#for a fifth fuckin' time I feel stupid about that

[princesssmars]

a few ellie headcanons bc i like her c: sfw.

she is a backpack lesbian. always has a tiny backpack. they are always black or a dark green. will sometimes get a patterned one. maybe has bananas on it. wants to put stickers on basically all of them but won’t because she gets paranoid they’ll get ruined.

i can’t find the post and ong i don’t remember what type of snack girlie i said ellie was but yes. this bitch loves snacks. always snacking. had a four month long addiction to jello it was a little scary.

she can cook for herself! she can make a damn good burger. hates tomato’s because she’s a baby 👎🏽

feel like she likes the weirdest cereals ever…like bae why are you eating kit kat cereal

runs super cold and always has a blanket. lovesss those super thick fluffy blankets that make you wanna fall asleep immediately. begged joel for one of those full body blanket snuggie things and he kept forgetting so she bought a matching dinosaur set with jessie and she loves it.

despite running cold her bedroom fan has not turned off in thirty years.

loves trivia. likes to play are you smarter than a fifth grader because you are NOT gonna catch her fuckin lackin.

likes mixmatched socks. her dryer is always eating half of her pairs so she grows to like it.

calls things pretentious and overrated as a joke bc she is annoying. watching a popular movie? she hates it the author is trying too hard. if she has a letterboxd she is either giving the most in depth review you’ve ever seen or a five star rating with a “cool”.

super nervous at the start of relationship yo show affection but when she’s locked in she is always on you…cuddles all the time. if you’re getting up to do something she is gripping around your waist. it’s cute until you need to go to the bathroom and she is insistent on going with you. once when she was high she told you she’d get a second toilet so you could go together 🫤

playstation girl yawn. she was hyped for elden ring then got her ass beat and didn’t play for a month before randomly deciding to finish it in two weeks.

whoever said she loves spongebob first was right…binges regular show when high. loves breaking bad. will act like she doesn’t like romance shows but if you make her watch the first episode she hasssss to finish it she can’t help ittt… sorry not sorry i’m making her watch bridgerton.

secretly watches those family guy adhd tiktoks

has a habit of watching movies through tiktok

and those space tiktok’s… comparing the gravity of different planets, what’s it’s like to fall through jupiters atmosphere.

likes orcas… watches marine life documentaries and gets emotional.

would know ur birth chart. ever forget ur big three signs? she knows. kind of scary. weird talent. doesn’t believe in astronomy buts knows every basic fact about every sign?? 😭

has two instagrams. her main is for her art and to post pictures with her friends and you. second she posts anything. and i do mean anything. will go from an introspective into idk why hoodwinked is underrated to

loves green it’s literally her color. needs some green in her dorm/apartment. thinks about this ahead of time so when she’s in middle school she starts buying tiny plants to take care of. at the start they’d die in like a week but now she has a dozen and they’re all healthy <3

bunch of posters on her bedroom walls. hates bare walls.

likes to try new hobbies every so often! is lazy about working out but when she does she gets on the treadmill and doesn’t break a sweat no matter how fast. kind of scary.

likes to go on the most random dates. you’ll be sitting on the couch and she’ll show you some random restaurant she saw on like instagram and be like let’s go. right now.

likes when you touch her hair. rest her on top of you while watching a movie and run your fingers through her hair? she’s out like a light. if you want to try different styles on it at home she will let you. doesn’t care if she has stupid looking like stubs everywhere she’s like c:

jesse told her she had a fuck ass bob once and she almost hit him :c

such a bike girl omg. i know she used to put water bottles in the back to make it sound like a motorcycle.

who first came up with that she loves spongebob because you’re so right. tried to act like she’s grown out of it but when she’s high and you’re trying to go to bed she’ll whisper “twenty five” to herself and laugh for five minutes straight.

spider-man girl because she’s cool.

pretends to hate all the dumb nicknames you give her when she does stuff. she makes a pb&j? shes now 'ellie jellie' for the rest of the week. has a stomach ache? now she gets to hear 'ellie bellie' for a month.

links for palestine, sudan, drc

[hvnnibvnny]

Another quick write?

Maybe we meet at a club- packed with perpetually hypersexual adults, vibrant lights.

Its way too crowded to really do much, the smell of alcohol and sweat and a terrible mix of perfume and cologne - but a nice setting overall.

My friends have left me alone already, drifting off with the promise of a fun time, leaving me to sit nervously at the bar, stuttering over my words as I try to order myself a drink. I'm sure my cheeks are flushed now from embarrassment.

But then he comes, an older man, veey well dressed, sitting so close to me, eyes trailing over me before turning to the bartender with a easy grin, and without even asking, orders two drinks for us- something I've never heard of. He grabs the glass, sliding it over to me and I quickly grasp it, smiling and whispering out a soft "thank you".

He only smile down at me shrugging before asking " what brings me here?".

I take a sip of the drink - bitter- before telling him that I just came with some friends to have fun, celebrate our friendship or whatever, shit he really couldn't care less about as he nods along, smiling empathetically. It's only when I tell him that they went off with some newfound companionship does his eyes light up- interesting.

I take another sip, trying to pretend I like the drink out of appreciation- how cute. He leans closer, too close, when he asks if I have a boyfriend and when I shake my head no, he gives a low chuckle, stating that pretty little things like me should always have a man to please them before ordering me another drink.

I sit there dumbly, giggling uncomfortably before he's sliding me the next glass, and before long, the next.

At my fourth or fifth glass, I'm feeling dizzy and everything's too loud, too much. I cringe before standing up on shaky legs and looking around for my friends, but the man just grabs me, pulls me back down to my seat, asking where I'm going.

My head is swimming, but I tell him- I need to find my friends, I have to go.

I don't feel too well.

He only chuckles before moving closer, so that our stools are side by side as he runs my back soothingly, saying that I'll be fine- it's just the alcohol kicking in and that I'll be okay. He knows I will. I just nod stupidly, too out of it to even say anything as the hands that were just soothing rubbing up and down my back quickly snake down to my hips, squeezing tightly as I let out a weak gasp.

I hear him ask for the bill so he can pay off the tab.

He stands and pulls me up with him still holding onto me my waist , fingers digging in and he's practically dragging me along with him, through the crowd, towards the entrance. I push at him weakly- where are my friends? I mutter out slurred sentences, but he just ignores me, cooing softly, still dragging me out. I begin to panic now, breathing picking up as I try to pull away, ask for help, but he's way stronger, way bigger.

Tears prick at my eyes as we walk farther and farther away from the club. It becomes more and more secluded but we finally reach out destination- his car. I'm pushed against the the passenger door and held there by a harsh hand around my neck as he fumbles with his keys, unlocking the truck. When he finally does unlock it, he opens the back door and shoves me into the truck by my hair. I gasp and yelp in pain, tell him to stop- it hurts-

But he's amused, coming inside with me as he forces my onto my back on the seat.

" Stop? That's the magic fuckin' word, isn't it sweetheart?! You know what a dumb little bitch you are? You looked so fucking cute, so fucking stupid sitting there alone by yourself, struggling to order a simple drink."

Tears stream down my cheeks as I flail weakly. His hand is on my neck again, holding me down as he pulls up the short dress I'm wearing, stretching it as I whine.

" And look what you have on! Look at you, dressed like a little slut- fuck, you were practicing begging me to take you."

I shake my head no and he just ignores me, tugging at my dress until it's pushed up- right above my tits. He curses, hands moving to squeeze at them, pinch my nipples harshly and I squeal and squirm from the pain. He groans, leaning down to take one into his mouth and I let out a breathy gasp, back arching up at the feeling. One hand traces down my stomach to my panties before running a finger over it. I shudder and he pulls away grinning, telling me that I must like it because I'm so fucking wet. I only whine, head lolling to the side as he traces a finger up and down my clothed cunt.

When he decides he's has enough, he slips two fingers inside suddenly, setting a brutal pace from the start, and I moan, hands coming up to grab at the hand that has found it's way to my neck again. I squeal in pleasure, cunt clenching around his fingers as my hips shift for more of the feeling.

He just keeps going, calling me a whore, a dumb slut, a silly little bitch. I feel heat pool in my lower stomach and it's becomes too much, but he just goes faster.

It isn't long before the pressure snaps, my eyes rolling back and thighs shaking as I open my mouth in a silent scream, gushing around his fingers.

I'm so out of it, don't even notice him pull his cock out jerking it lazily, eyes locked on my glistening cunt. " I never caught your name, baby."

I only blink up at him stupidly, eyes furrowing as I try to focus, struggling against the effects of the drinks- I'm so out of it,

In irritation at my at my confusion and pathetic silence, he slaps me, my face snapping to the side. I let out a wail, hand coming up to soothe my reddening cheeks as he wraps his hand around my throat, tightening his grip as I struggle to breathe. * What's your name, princess?"

I stutter out my name as best as I can with my slurred speech, and he hums in acknowledgement." Pretty name for a pretty slut."

I mewl, legs trying to close instinct when I feel the head of his cock nudge against my slitz but he pushes my legs back apart, rutting against me before steadily sinking into me.

I flailed weakly, but he only pulled out again before slamming back in harshly again and again.

I finally lay there limply as he rambles on, fucking me in earnest.

" Fucking made to take cock."

" Such a pretty young thing, fuck, such a good pussy."

"Gonna come in this dirty fucking cunt- you'd like that, wouldn't you, you fucking whore."

I shake my head weakly, clenching around him at his words. It's too much and I'm already so sensitive from my first orgasm." N-no, s'too much-"

"What? No? Oh, baby....Im so sorry- is it too much? Hm? Answer me, Princess, wanna hear you."

He laughs when i suddenly tense, back arching as I come on his cock, squeezing around him.

He groans at the feeling," Fuck, s'good, fucking perfect- "

A few more brutal and desperate thrusts and he's coming, hot seed spilling into my messy cunt, pushing in as deep as he can. "Take it, take it. Good girl."

He waits, making sure not as single drop goes to waste before pulling out slowly, watching his cum spill out of my used pussy.

I lay there, a crying, twitching mess before he opens the door, pulling me out. I think that he's done, that he's just gonna throw me out, but then he's positioning me on my knees which are already bruising. He runs a soothing hand through my hair before gripping it tightly and holding his cock to my face, nudging the tip against my swollen lips.

"Open that pretty fucking mouth."

๑๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑⁠๑

Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I swear I went over it 100 times 😭 <3

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith stares.

Constantly.

He always has. Even at the Garrison, Lance can remember him just staring. Endlessly. Like he was looking right through you, or like he was staring straight into your soul. Sometimes both at once. He’d never spoken one word to Lance before they went to space, but Lance remembers that stare with complete clarity. (Probably because he was on the other end of it more than he’s willing to admit, with all his attempts to get Keith’s attention.)

The staring doesn’t stop when they get to space. It doesn’t stop when they accept their roles as teammates, when Keith finally starts participating in their (totally justified!) rivalry, when they begrudgingly decide that maybe they can peel back on the arguing, a little. When they realise how well they work together. When they start working together on purpose, and some of those stares come with a small smile, a quirk of the lips, really, that brightens indigo eyes and shows the tiniest peek of crooked incisors. (When tragedy strikes, and the stare is blank. After tragedy, when the stare only gets blanker, and they don’t talk about what happens next but when Lance comes into his room after days of no response, sits with him quietly, brushes the tangles out of his hair and reminds him there are still reasons for him to get up. When they really become a team, just the two of them, red and black and the leader and his right hand.)

When the stares only gets softer and softer, and when Lance is the subject of them more and more frequently.

“What?” Lance snaps one day, frustrated and embarrassed and tired of being the only one that Keith looks at so closely. “What are you even looking at? You’re always staring at me, man, like you’re trying to fuckin’ read my soul, or something. It’s weird.”

Lance feels bad as soon as he says it. It’s defensive and mean and he tenses, preparing for Keith’s upcoming scowl, the argument.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead Keith smiles. Not one of his quick ones, a barely-there quirk of the lips, but a real grin, wide enough to make his eyes squint and face brighten. The fondness bleeds from him; Lance couldn’t miss it if he was the densest person alive.

Slowly, like he’s given Lance time to back away, he reaches foreword and tucks Lance’s hair behind his ears, even though it’s too short for that and doesn’t do anything, even though it’s clearly all about the gesture, an excuse to touch Lance gently.

Lance’s breath stutters on his inhale. Keith doesn’t pull away, resting his hand on the side of Lance’s cheek, not quite cupping it but not quite not cupping it, either.

“God, I’m so lucky,” Keith murmurs, almost too quiet for Lance to hear. (But no. Not impossible. Keith could’ve said it at one decibel and Lance would have strained himself to injury trying to hear it.)

“What?” Lance asks hoarsely, well aware his face is flaming.

Keith only smiles wider. “How could I not stare at you?” he asks, like Lance isn’t losing his whole mind.

Lance clears his throat. Then again, and again. And a fourth and fifth time for good measure because what the fuck.

“Keith, what — what’s going on —”

“I am so lucky,” Keith repeats, firmer this time. He has the same stupid look on his face, like he cannot help but he besotted with Lance, somehow. He opens his mouth again and Lance knows that if he has to hear whatever mushy thing Keith has cooked up then he is going to melt into a puddle of flaming goo. Lance shoots out and slaps his hand over Keith’s mouth.

“Stop speaking,” he orders, face flaming. “Explain what the hell has gotten into you.”

“Those are opposite instructions,” Keith says, muffled, because he is a jerk. His eyes are sparkling in amusement.

“I am going to whoop your ass, Kogane.”

“Fine, fine.” He pulls Lance’s hand off his face and then links it in his, holding them in his lap. He rubs his thumb over Lance’s knuckles as he speaks. “You remember the mall food court? Two days ago?”

Lance tilts his head. “Yeah?” He doesn’t know what the hell that has to do with anything. They had a supply run a couple days ago, loading up on cleaning mods and food supplies and million other things, and he and Keith had stopped for lunch at the food court slash restaurant.

“You, uh, you remember that waiter?”

Lance frowns, trying to picture a waiter. All he can really remember is how Keith had laughed so hard at one of his jokes that soda had spewed out of his nose. He feels bad, but he can’t picture their waiter at all.

“No?”

Keith scowls. It’s such a stark difference from his sappy look before that it’s startling. “That weirdo, stuck up shithead who wouldn’t leave you alone. He called you pretty boy three separate times.”

Vaguely, Lance remembers some light flirting as the waiter set down the cheque. He can’t even picture the guy’s face.

“I mean, not really. I get called pretty boy a lot.”

He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but it makes Keith laugh. He looks relieved, like he’s been worrying about Lance and the waiter.

Like he’d been jealous.

The sappy look is back on his face. “Just made me think, is all.”

Lance’s throat is dry again. The air is charged, and Keith is staring again, eyes tracing every inch of Lance’s face.

Something is going to change tonight. He can feel it.

“Think about what?”

He’s leaned closer without realising. Keith smiles, noticing, and his hand comes back up to Lance’s cheek. This time he cups it blatantly, running the edge of a calloused thumb over Lance’s cheekbones.

“How lucky I am,” he murmurs, repeating his sentiment from earlier, “that we’ve got such a pretty boy on our team. On my team.”

Lance face flames. His first instinct is to deny it, vehemently, to ask Keith what the hell his deal is. Something ugly rears in his head, something hurt — how dare Keith make fun of him like that. How dare he mess with Lance about something he’s sensitive about.

But there’s not an ounce of meanness on Keith’s face. He’s looking at Lance in a way that can only be reverent, like Lance is the only person on the castle, the only person ever.

He remembers all of a sudden that Keith is the most honest person he knows. Keith, who can’t lie if he tries, who’s emotions are written all over his face all the time, who’s easy to rile up because he wears his heart on his sleeve, who puts every ounce of effort he has into everything he does. Who fights this war even though it’s hard for him because he loves everyone so much.

Lance blinks, and is more surprised than he should be to find his face wet. Keith’s face creases a little in concern, and he gently wipes the tears from Lance’s cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

Lance laughs wetly, more incredulous than anything.

“Mullet, if you don’t kiss me right this fucking second —”

Keith laughs. He doesn’t hesitate a second more, leaning in and pressing his lips to Lance’s, gently at first, then like he can’t get enough.

His eyes are closed, as he kisses.

Lance almost misses the staring.

[henneseyhoe]

The Return Of Killjoy.

Killmonger x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of death, gory descriptions, mentions of religion, possession, choking, rough s*x, cu*khold, !SLIGHT CNC!.

Ps. I’ll edit this fully later, so if y’all see random pov switches then ignore it really quick. I just wanted it out before Halloween was over Lmfao.

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“You sure you wanna watch this, Trey? I just feel iffy” She expressed to her boyfriend, fiddling with the frills on her socks. Her stomach felt queasy, and her nerves were higher than usual all that day. It could be because she knew that there were plans made to do something she had no instest in, plans to watch an old slasher film, but even before she knew it was this movie in particular, she had already felt a bad feeling come over her body.

“You need to calm down, baby. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and we both know this shit is fake” Trey brushes her off in a nonchalant way, putting the vhs tape into the tv.

“Trey, please. We can watch a classic! Friday 13th?” He ignores her again, playing with the buttons on the television. “This movie is like 80 years old, who knows what type of old ass voodoo is on it?! we needed a fuckin’ box tv to watch this shit, and everybody saying it’s cursed!” She continues to press him, hoping he’d realize how stupid the whole situation was. She was never the type to be scared of movies, but she heard around town about what people saw in the tapes, and she wasn’t trying to be added to the list of people who lost their minds after watching.

Some stories she heard included people gouging their own eyes out, projectile vomiting everywhere only five minutes into the film, some even lose consciousness. “Are you even listening? Trey!” She pushed him, the boy still seeking no interest in what she was saying. She was so convinced that she could change his mind and that she had time to all before, but obviously he was adamant on watching the movie to understand the hype and fear surrounding.

“…someone literally stopped talking for an entire week after watching it. If that ain’t enough proof for you, I dunno what is!” Crossing her arms, she huffs like an upset toddler, over him ignoring her for a ‘stupid little movie’.

“That was just a drawn out joke! Wasn’t shit wrong with that woman” He says, using the tv remote to navigate through the options to start the movie. There was no turning back now, the tape beginning to roll.

✮✮✮✮

Trey yawns for the fifth time that night. She couldn’t tell if he was tired of just wanted to pretend like the scenes wasn’t scary. The movie started out with a blood curdling scream that made both the young adults cover their ears, Trey attempting to turn it down with the remote, which didn’t work, but even when he put it on mute, the scream continued. After that was the most gruesome death scene either of them had ever seen in a movie that old. It was almost too real. The main character, or who they thought was the main character, was killed only five minutes into the film. The masked man had captured her in her own home and hung her upside down with chains wrapped around her ankles. She was completely undressed, naked glory there to gawk at. Y/N caught Trey doing exactly that for a moment before the woman was split in half completely from the top down with a seemingly dull machete.

Y/N gags strongly while clenching her thick thighs closed as she watched the woman rip in half, screaming in agony until she stopped before the man could even pull the blade all the way through her body. He hacked away multiple times before he had even reached the end of her, blood splattering all over the hardwood floor.

“Ewww!” Y/N let out a girlish squeal while kicking her feet up and covering her face. Trey shook his head. “This shit is not scary, you doin too much”

“Shut up! This shit is makin’ me sick, turn it off”

“Why? You scared?”

“Yes! Stop playin’ and turn it off”

Trey rolls his eyes and laughs, switching his position so he was kneeling in front of his fearsome girlfriend. “It’s not real” she shake her head, her face still scrunched with disgust while Trey laughs at herfit. “Lemme comfort my little cry baby” he teased and kisses her lips. She melted from his touch, feeling safer than before. Trey’s hands roam her body, going for her shirt to pull it right off her body. Y/N’s safe feeling didn’t last too long, a feeling in her stomach creeping up onto her, telling her to open her eyes, which she reluctantly complied to.

Watching the screen behind Trey, multiple pictures of gore flashed as the film continued, the next picture even more disturbing than the next until the screen flashed a picture that had her jumping out of her skin, goosebumps covering her body.

She pushes her boyfriend away with a scream. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” She panicked, tears welling in her eyes. “Damn, Y/N! You almost bit my fuckin’ tongue off!” Trey shouts, tasting blood in his mouth from the girl biting down on his lip. “What are you on about now?!” Trey glanced back at the screen, but it had changed to a normal part in the movie.

Y/N couldn’t even begin to explain the feeling in her chest. The picture she saw that flashed lastly was a picture of her. In that same spot. With Trey laying next to her, his face looking as if it was bludgeoned, features beyond recognition.

“STOP FUCKING WITH ME, TREY! IM SERIOUS! IT AINT FUNNY!” She freaked, her chest heaving as Trey looked at her in confusion.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. If you that scared then I’ll just turn it off, damn” he reaches for the remote and clicks the tv off, yet the screen went no where. Still playing the movie, Trey tried clicking the buttons on the TV to turn it off, but the film stayed put. He sighs. “Look, it’s an old tv, baby. We can smash this shit right after if it makes you happy” he said, turning back to her. Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her again, tasting salty tears on her lips. As she gave into his temptation, the kiss progressed to him laying her down and undressing them both fully.

Trey took it upon himself to pleasure her first, something he rarely did, but Y/N brushed it off as him trying to make her feel better. Spreading her legs out for him, Trey dove in, beginning to lap up her swelling clit as she used her hands to play in his hair.

They were cornrowed back, neatly placed in straight lines and she found herself tugging at the ends of them while he slurped her up. He uses her thigh as a headrest for him so he could eat without getting tired, but his patters were already sending the girl into overdrive.

“Yes, Trey” She calls out to him, her other hand gracing her wet lips. She sticks her tongue out and licks a long stripe along her pointer finger and thumb, using her own spit as lube to twist her nipples softly. Trey had suctioned his entire mouth around her clit, beginning to suck while his fingers dipped into her honeypot, giving her a reason for her eyes to be rolling backwards into her head like they were doing.

What was into him? She had never experienced this type of behavior. She couldn’t even remember the last time she came from head alone, but this time felt so different to her.

She had wondered when he had gotten so skilled at this..and when he got a tongue.. or when he got dreads.

Popping her head upwards, Y/N’s heart completely drops. The man that was between her legs was no longer her boyfriend, but the same psycho killer that shook her up just a few minutes ago. Her adrenaline rushes, her brown eyes becoming wide with her jaw being stuck hanging low like she had just been hit with a brick. “—oh fuck” She moans, the demon himself keeping himself latched on her clit, shaking his head from side to side. He rubs his plump lips against her clit while humming, vibrations spreading throughout the girls body before she came, a tongue being right there to catch all that she was giving before it was his turn to get his.

✮✮✮✮

“Like this, baby?” The man stared deep into her soul while stroking her, his callused hand wrapped tightly around her throat. Y/N shook with fear, but she couldn’t stop the moans falling from her lips. Turning towards the tv, she watched as Trey begged and pleaded on mute, slamming his hands against the windowed screen he was trapped in. Before a singular teardrop slipped from her eye, killjoy had already turned her head back towards him, giving her no permission to look at anything but him.

“Take it. Take it like a good fuckin’ girl” He grunts, gripping her thigh and pushing it back so far that she was basically folded in. It took strength to endure the beating he was putting on her, and the little bit she had left was gradually growing weaker. He was to blame for every reaction she was currently having, from the jagged breathing all the way down to the helpless whimpers. She thought he would have never stopped, until he did, his hips colliding with hers one last time before he stops, laying a smack on her thighs.

“Now, sit that ass on it” He demands. It was like she had no control over her own body, the real version of herself watching behind her eyes in utter shock. Flipping them both over, Killjoy does the honors of pushing himself back inside of her, Y/N using the strength of her calves to bounce on the tip of his dick. It was still so much for her, he was barely inside and she already felt so full. “I can’t-“ she chokes out as her legs shake, her body cowering on top of him. Killjoy grunts in annoyance, his patience running low for the girl. He was fed up. How was she gonna be a good host if she was a coward?

Giving her that jumpstart she needed, he lays three hard smacks on her ass, sending Y/N jumping forward with a yelp, landing right back on his dick. She slid down on his thick pole completely, her thighs closing together. “Unt-Unt. Open them legs, lemme see that pretty pussy” He says, completely disregarding her stiff movements and thrusting his hips upwards. She wasn’t even thinking straight at this point, she couldn’t have answered a question if you asked.

“I’m gonna cum!” She shouts, fisting his locs in her hand, a guttural groan escaping his mouth at the hair tugs. Only the lucky knew how he liked it rough, and not one of those lucky people were alive anymore to tell the story of how killjoy himself broke them in on Halloween night. Now, it was her turn.

“Cum on this dick, pretty girl. It’s yours” He taunts with a devilish smirk, but that only made Y/N teeter over the line of ecstasy and unconsciousness just a little more.

“I’m- im-“

“Uh-huh. Show yo’ man how a real nigga do it”

“FU-“

“Show him how a real nigga make you cum!”

“FUCK”

She stops bouncing, but killjoy kept his hips jack hammering up into her, his arms arms going around her waist to hold her in her spot as he fucked her pussy with no remorse. Y/N was praying to the heavens that it would stop and this would just be some crazy wet dream, but it kept going.

“No need to pray now. He can’t help you” Killjoy speaks into the girls ears, his voice echoing in her head like they were in an empty room.

She could hear her water splashing against him, and he had no means to stop just yet.

✮✮✮✮

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Our Own Holiday

masterlist

summary: tom can’t celebrate valentine’s day, you can’t celebrate halloween

paring: tom hanniger x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.7k

warnings: trauma (not specified) surrounding halloween, language, no spoilers

timeline: set before or after the movie, up to you

author’s note: happy halloween! 🎃👻 (this fic was queued so i’m still not active on tumblr. i’ll be back on my main to celebrate the fifth of november but i don’t think i’ll be uploading any fics until later in the month 💞)

October 31st was the one day a year you absolutely hated. You loved horror movies, autumn weather, and the general aesthetic that surrounded the whole month, but Halloween hadn’t been fun for you in years.

You were currently huddled up on your living room couch and watching Child’s Play when a knock came from your back door. There had been noise coming from your front door all night (understandably so) but the fact someone had climbed your fence was a little unsettling.

You walked through the kitchen and to your back door, smiling when you saw who was there.

“Tom? Oh my god!” you giggled a little after unlocking the door and letting him in.

“I know this night is tough for you so I figured you’d want some company.” He smiled, somewhat sadly, and held up a large bag of candy. “I would’ve been here about two hours ago but I had to find non-Halloween-themed candy and the Target around the corner was out. I had to go to the one on Washington Road.”

“Thank you, Tom,” you said, a smile now on your lips.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked. “Have you gotten many trick-or-treaters?”

“I’ve had a few knocks but I haven’t answered the door,” you said. He put his hands on your shoulders before he pulled you into a hug. “I feel like absolute shit,” you admitted.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“That’s okay. How ‘bout this; I’ll go put a bowl out for the trick-or-treaters and a sign that says not to knock or ring the bell, we can cuddle on the couch and watch movies. It’ll be like… Well, not Valentine’s Day cause I hate that. It’ll be our own holiday that we celebrate twice a year while the rest of the world is celebrating stupid Halloween or Valentine’s Day.”

“My god, what did I do to deserve you, Tom?” You looked up at him as you both pulled back from the hug and he shrugged a little.

“Well, last Valentine’s you did stay with me for the whole day and kept me distracted so I wouldn’t think about it.”

“So…is this the second time we’re celebrating this new holiday of ours, then?”

“You’re right! We need a name for it,” he said as you both walked to the couch before sitting down. You snuggled into his side as he put an arm around your shoulders.

“The Hanniger Holiday,” you suggested.

“Hmm,” he hummed beside you, as if in thought. “I was gonna say ‘we need to have your name in there somewhere’ but I guess Hanniger will be your name someday.”

“You really think?”

“No question, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek. “I love you, Y/n Hanniger.”

“I love you so much, Tom,” you mumbled, turning to place a kiss on his full lips.

“Love you more.” He smiled against your lips, moving his hand to your cheek as yours went into his hair.

“Not fuckin’ possible,” you said directly into his mouth.

“Definitely possible,” he retorted, “because it’s fuckin’ true.”

“Just shut up and kiss me some more,” you sighed.

A knock at the door and the faint sound of a few kids shouting “Trick-or-treat,” pulled you both out of the happy trance you’d been in.

“I’ll go shut ‘em up,” Tom said before kissing your cheek and standing up. “You stay here, maybe find us a different movie, and I’ll be back before you can say ‘Mr and Mrs Tom Hanniger’ three times fast.”

“But I love this movie,” you pouted, he rolled his eyes playfully before leaving to take care of the people at the door.

He handed out some candy (from another bag he’d bought, this one Halloween themed) before the kids all left. He then set the bag up on the front porch and quickly scribbled a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign that he then taped to the door.

He was back beside you within a couple minutes and, per his request, you’d set up a new movie for the two of you.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Tom exclaimed as the movie started.

[stevenose]

🖐🏼 i would like to talk about Steve mocking you and ur overstimulated clit

contains: reader with vagina, overstimulation, the slightest bit of humiliation, ruined cunt, oral (reader receiving), steve is like. kinda jerkin reader’s clit off lol. piv, cumming inside, reader goes a lil stupid from the pleasure, steve baby boy 🫶🏻 he cum in he pant 🫶🏻

ok. imagine.

steve has had you on your back with your legs spread for the last two hours. he’s made you cum four separate times so far, edging you before overstimulating you. his tongue lapping at your cunt, fucking into your hole - and then he’s sucking on your clit, quite nearly nipping at it. for a while. two of the four orgasms you’ve had were just from him abusing your it.

by now, your arousal has soaked the sheets - and mattress - below you. you’re equally hot and freezing, goosebumps on your flesh, nipples perked. you pant under steve, eyes glazed over and unfocused. he kisses you gently as you come down from your high, giving you a few minutes of gentle comfort before sinking back down to his position at the end of the bed. you’re sore, but steve’s hands knead at your flesh, trying to ease the pain that’ll be there in the morning. and you know it will.

the fifth time steve shimmies down the bed to your pussy, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. you’re fully aware that steve could go at this all night. and you’re equally aware that you can stop him at anytime with a single word. but you really don’t know if you want to. feeling so taken care of and so blissed out, so stupid on the pleasure, is really kind of nice. and steve’s been nice, too. up til this point.

he’s cooing. you don’t have the energy to tilt your head to look down at him. you feel his index and middle fingers come up to frame your clit, squeezing it, and you cry out. “st-eve!”

“jesus,” he whispers, giving it another tug. “she’s so fuckin’ hard, baby. looks ruined. all puffy -“ and then he’s tugging and tugging and tugging, his fingers pulling back and forth on your poor little clit. “christ. shit. ‘s like i’m jerking it off.”

you wail, trying to kick him in retaliation, because that’s not funny. it’s hot, it’s got your stomach tightening, but it’s not funny. neither is the pain-pleasure shooting through your nub as he continues the assault, watching in awe as slick drips out of you. “think you like that, huh? like havin’ a ruined pussy. ‘n she’s all for me, right? all mine to jerk off and taste? she tastes so good, baby, she loves this.”

“i can’t!” you cry, trying to squeeze your legs shut. but your safe word isn’t “i can’t”. you both know that. and steve can’t help but to smirk, tugs on your clit a little more before enveloping it with his hot mouth again. it’s an instant relief, then torture as he sucks on it. “steve!”

and steve’s all cocky, because he did this to you. he’s made you cum four times. he’s made your clit erect and hard. he’s made your cunt all red and sensitive with just his mouth. and he’s gonna make you cum again, just one last time - wants to make you truly dumb and speechless, and then he’ll clean you up and hold you. tell you dumb jokes while you punch his arm and he’ll tell you how much he loves you til you’re both asleep. (p.s - he’s already cum in his pants.)

two fingers slide into you, pressing right up against your sweet spot, and the torture on your bundle of nerves is eased by the blinding, white hot pleasure of the pads of steve’s fingers. his cheeks are so warm on your inner thighs and he’s making these lewd sucking and slurping noises that shouldn’t be so fucking hot. his warm brown eyes flick up to watch your face as you writhe. his free hand pins your hips down to the bed, but it’s really not enough.

“i - c - c -“

“you can,” steve whispers, right against your clit that’s somehow even more pathetic looking than a minute ago.

you wail in protest, fisting at his hair, trying to get him away from you. and when he does move away, getting concerned, you pull him right back in, making him let out a shocked chuckle. he’s never seen you so fucked up. why did he ever give that camera to byers? should have kept it for himself.

he’s so lost in your expression that he nearly misses when your back arches and twists off the bed. he laps at your clit, breathing heavy against it, fingers pressing right where you need them - and then you’re screaming without humility up at the ceiling. your body quakes and quivers and jerks and steve does his absolute best to keep you still, helping you ride it out on his tongue and fingers. you’re creaming on them, he can feel the burst of liquid - and oh, god, he might just cum in his fucking pants again.

you’re really fucked stupid now. steve pulls back as slow as he can, trying not to jolt you. he can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but the look on your face says a lot. he’s startled at the tears streaming down your cheeks, pausing to press some kisses into your thighs before gently pulling his fingers out of you. “i’m done, baby, i swear.”

and then you’re crying harder. making these grabby hands at him. trying so weakly to pull him up by the hair. he works his way back up to your face, his chin and lips as shiny as your eyes. “what is it? huh? i’m so sorry, baby, think i went too far -“

“get off,” you moan, and steve, hit with regret, pulls back - but you’re pulling him right back in, glaring at him. “on me.”

“oh,” he says. “i - i don’t need anything, peach. think if i touch your cunt again you’ll kill me. or i’ll kill you.”

“sh-up,” you mumble, hands reaching for his ruined jeans. “need to feel full.”

steve knows you can’t take that. his eyes move back down to your clit, still swollen and red and pronounced. if even a single hair touches it you’re gonna launch into space. and this really isn’t about him. “sweetheart -“

you move your knee to brush against the wet spot on his jeans, and even though you’re more than fucked out, you smile at the dampness. steve clenches his jaw and thinks of anything other than your pussy. because yes, he wants to fuck you. god, he really does. wants to see exactly where the line is with you. wants to feel that loose, relaxed cunt take him to the hilt after hours of hard work. and he, himself, in similar fashion to your clit, is extremely hard. your knee is still pressing into him, into the cum spilled in his jeans, and with a loud groan he starts to unbutton them.

“you’re sure?” he asks. “i’ll be careful with your clit. won’t even last long, baby, just gotta feel you.”

you nod, tears finally subsiding, hands moving up to play absentmindedly with your nipples. steve’s eyes roll back in his head at the sight as he pumps himself a few times before lining up with your entrance.

it’s a single push. easiest you’ve ever taken him. so slick and plush and sticky and steve lets out such a pathetic groan. he’s careful to angle himself away from reaching your clit, but the contortion of your face points to you still feeling it. still, you let him, watching as he pushes in and out of you with such ease. more perverted noises coming from down there.

“f…fuck, peach,” steve rasps, hips moving slow, heart rate picking up. “never felt somethin’ so fuckin’ good.”

in your blank headed state, you wish you could get him back for the last few hours. get him right on the edge and then pull back. watch him cry and wail and short circuit when you finally let him cum somewhere boring and pointless - into his own hand, maybe. getting him all fucked up before taking pity on him. but right now, your head is filled with the need to feel steve’s warm cum filling you up and easing the pain.

“inside,” you whimper, reaching for his hands and letting him hold yours into the bed.

his eyes roll back again and his cock kicks. “sure?”

you nod again, fluttering your walls around him, and with a low and soft growl he cums, finally filling your pussy up. the look of ecstasy on your face just from him cumming inside of you almost has him going for another round, but he pulls out nice and slow again before peppering your face with kisses. “so perfect, so pretty, there ya go. so nice for me. love you so much, baby, i really do.”

neither of you know how you’re gonna get to the bathroom after this.

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister CH13

Chapter 13: "Celebrating Life Is Stupid”

Summary: After reuniting and growing closer, Dazai and Oda’s sister truly realize the value of each other and the sad bandaged boy falls deeper into the dangerous fascination and infatuation that is Odasaku’s little sister.

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old Dazai, pm! sixteen year old chuuya, ginger is very angry, Suicide mentions, guns, manipulation on both sides, Odasaku death mentions, Dazai being a Simp, Dazai being the demon prodigy but also baby at the same time.

(This is chapter thirteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro (Broken up because the first ch is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 6k total

—-

Tapping his feet in already brewing annoyance, Chuuya pushed his phone closer to his ear as each ear grating ring pissed him off by the second. And honestly, by the third one he debated throwing the entire object into the wall next to him in a fit of frustration.

He knew that little mackerel was doing this on purpose, sending his calls to voicemail over and over again. That guy never had anything notable going on and he knew the boss was gonna have his ass if he didn’t get in contact with that little shit.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, the line picked up on the fifth ring only to hear that same happy go lucky, irritating sing-song tone he alway seemed to use.

He hated that sound more than anything, mostly because the ginger he was about to be made fun of. “Oh Chuuuuuya, what an impatient little dog you are, blowing up my phone like this. Can't get enough of me I see.”

Gritting his teeth to hold his outburst, Chuuya simply scoffed. “Shut up, it's your own damn fault for not picking up. I know you are doing it on purpose, you shitty little mackerel.”

The voice on the other hands only hummed though, obviously unbothered. “So rude, Chuuuya, assuming such things. I am actually very busy right now. Which is why your interruption is way less pleasant than usual. And that’s saying something, considering your presence is never pleasant.”

Chuuya knew better though. “Bullshit, you’re never busy. You’re probably just fucking around somewhere.”

Just then, he heard a fake ass gasp on the side of the phone only for Dazai to answer straightforwardly. “If you call “fucking around” me currently pinning down a beautiful woman then I suppose you're right about that. Isn’t that right, love?”

Almost immediately, the ginger felt bile work its way into his throat, shoving the feeling down before shouting back roughly. “Ah, you’re so fucking disgusting! I don’t wanna know about that shit.”

Oh my god, why did he have to bring up that kind of stuff?! The last thing he wanted to do was picture shitty stupid Dazai like that, especially with some nonamed whore or brain dead manipulated bitch.

That poor soul that was with him right now, the one Dazai just called love, he pitied her, whoever she was.

Forcing the idea from his mind, Chuuya then shook his head before adding. “Listen, the boss gave us another mission in a couple days and I wanna make sure you don’t try to ditch again or else I’m gonna kill you for real, got that?!”

He knew the kid’s pattern after all, Chuuya knew how flighty and unreliable that stupid mackerel really was and he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to get dragged into that again. The first time he flaked was bad enough.

But as expected, Dazai didn’t sound serious, he didn’t even sound remotely interested in his threats as the boy simply waved the question away. “Don’t worry slug, I’ll be there. Can’t have my dog getting lonely, now can I?”

At that name, Chuuya felt his anger spike, the boy unable to stop his outburst. What was his damn problem?! “You fuckin…I’m not a dog!!’

Dazai’s voice only came back confused though, his voice just as annoying, cheerful and mocking as usual. “How strange, all I can hear is woof woof woof so I’m gonna hang up now! See ya, Chibi.”

And just like that, the line turned dead, causing the ginger’s eye to twitch before tightening his hold on his phone before giving into the impulse and throwing the object against the wall next to him.

Watching the phone shatter to prices before his eyes, Chuuya then shook his head before grumbling out his frustrations to absolutely no one.

“I’m gonna kill him..”

——-

Closing his flip phone absentmindedly, Dazai simply smiled to himself before placing the object back into his pants pocket only to hear the voice underneath him speak out hopefully. “Was that Chuuya?”

The boy only shook his head though, pushing his foot further into the speakers chest in order to shove his enemy further into the ground roughly. “Don’t sound so happy about it. That slug shouldn’t gain such a reaction.”

His opponent only put her hands out in defense though, turning her head curiously to the side with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Dazai expected that kind of response though, his eyes moving up in order to glance around the familiar port mafia owned warehouse that they had spent the last hour or so before she spoke again.

And this time, it was far more pushy than before. “Sooo, what did he say?”

Already feeling his lips twist into a bitter smirk, Dazai’s foot then pushed deeper into her chest, exulting double the amount of force in order for her to stop speaking. “Those aren’t the kinds of things you should be worried about, Asa-chan, considering the position you're in right now..”

Which was something that Asagao seemed to be missing in her tiny little brain considering he was currently pinning her down to the dirty and dusty warehouse floor by his foot. He clearly had the upper hand here so there was no reason for her to speak so casually.

That, and the fact that she was asking about Chuuya of all people in this sort of dangerous position caused Dazai’s sick and twisted port mafia heart to darken with malice. He was the one she was supposed to be focusing on, not that glorified hat rack.

She was at the mercy of the demon prodigy and she was acting like they were talking about the weather. He wanted her to regret ever asking about that hat rack in the first place, to apologize between his fingers for not taking his presence seriously and speaking of another so foolishly.

Then to prove his point, the boy reached into his pocket before taking out his gun in order to point the barrel straight at her head with silent warning.

It was a move that would make any one shutter and cower immediately. In fact, it was something he used a million times before to intimate each and everyone of his enemies.

But he had already learned that Asagao didn’t play by the rules of his other opponents.

Turning her head in confusion, the girl simply looked at the foot that was constricting her breathing before returning to the demon with a gentle smile of unbothered idiocy. “Oh, I’m not worried.”

And for a moment, Dazai paused, playing her game. “And why’s that, love?”

He wanted to see what she’d say, how she would justify her calm and collected behavior even though she was staring down the barrel of his gun. Yes, Asagao had outwardly said that she wasn’t afraid of dying by his hand but she wasn’t even trying to get out of it.

And he knew she could, he knew that the hellhound could fight back him if she so chose, so the fact that she was allowing Dazai to pin her down like this was interesting to say the least.

This girl, she was seconds from death and still her eyes held not one bit of urgency.

A moment later, Asagao spoke, her voice full of nostalgic memory as she reached forward in order to pull the barrel closer to her chest. “Because this is how we met, remember?”

Almost immediately, Dazai’s mind seemed to snap back to their first encounter almost an entire year ago. Huh, she was right. They had been in this position before, hadn’t they?

Back when the boy was drowning in his grief, back when he found an intruder in his friend's old place and threatened them in the same exact manner.

If only he knew how utterly life changing that little meeting had been, what kind of storm erupted from the moment he tore that hoodie off her head and looked into her Odasaku eyes.

And it was the same now, the boy looking down at her glasses free expression in order to catalog and trace the iris silently to himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately, getting lost in the emptiness as it swallowed him whole each and every time.

He was grateful for it also, knowing that the dullness of her eyes was way more welcoming then the darkness of his own soul, that by having her here he had switched the method of his demise.

Yes, drowning in Asagao was much more tolerant than drowning in his grief.

A sweeter way to die indeed, a more pleasant experience than what he ever deserved, and yet Dazai couldn’t stop himself from staring even so.

So much so, Dazai felt his lips twist upwards in familiar memory before his finger carefully cocked the gun with a dark chuckle. “Oops. You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s continue where we left off then, hmm?”

Then without a second thought, the executive pulled the trigger as a loud shot echoed through the warehouse. And most people would’ve been horrified by such a reaction, they would have regretted aiming at something he just so clearly said that he admired.

But you see, Dazai didn’t underestimate his girlfriend, not one bit.

Casually putting his hand down on his side, the mafioso then smirked to himself before turning around only to find his enemy a couple feet away, her hands on her hips. “Damn, you really tried to shoot me. I’m surprised and a little impressed, demon prodigy.”

Dazai only shrugged his shoulders though, unbothered. “Well, you told me to look at you as a threat, did you not, Asa-chan?”

It was conversation that was very prevalent in his mind, even today. Sure, the boy should’ve taken their fights easy, he should’ve sparred in a way that made sure Oda’s sister was safe but that wasn’t his style, and neither was hers.

No, Dazai treated her like a real threat, just like she deserved, he trusted that she was smart enough to anticipate his moves and counteract, like just right now.

And the fact that she had done just that also proved his theory that she could’ve gotten out his hold at any time.

What a sneaky shady little hellhound she was. He was onto her big time.

Then as if to prove his internal analysis, he watched Asagao’s face twist into that same twisted, psychotic and giddy smile that enticed him time and time again before watching her fingers twitch in unkept adrenaline just by that simple phrase.

And Dazai would never understand the power his acknowledgment had on her. That just by giving her his entire strength she was already antsy to match it. The hellhound training that had been embedded into her since she was a child, it coated and clouded every other single thought in her brain.

Pushing her fingers up to the ponytail that held her unruly crimson mane in place, Asagao then chuckled darkly before practically ripping the restraint in order to let her hair free.

And with that simple move, she had also ripped down the chains that held the monstrous creature beneath the surface, unafraid of the response it would give. “Oh Samu, you know just how to rile a girl up, don’t you? You’re right about that one, I am a threat. Now allow me to live up to your potential of me and show you how..”

And Dazai loved it, he loved that crazed beast-like look more than anything, his stance grounding itself immediately only to find that his enemy had disappeared in front of his eyes. Ah, she was using her time stopping ability. How cute.

Turning the safety off his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before sensing a change of wind to the right in order to let off three more shots just as Asagao reappeared millimeters from his face.

She seemed to register the bullets just in time, her body rolling to the ground in order to just miss the dangerous attacks as Dazai smirked in admiration.

And let’s be honest, should he have been pointing that gun at her like this? No. Should he have been directing his shots with the intent to kill. Also no. It was insanely risky and if she was even second too late then he would have the blood of another Oda on his hands.

Which was something the boy wrestled with internally but it seemed like his port mafia blood craved the opposite, to see just what amazing and enticing ways she could get out each deadly situation he threw at her.

And that desire, that allure was stronger than his fear to keep her locked away forever. No, she had a power, and it was too enticing to ignore, especially for the twisted mafioso who was looking for something entertaining.

He was then taken out of his thoughts as a rough hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun in order to pull it forward without fear as Asagao smirked in victory.

It didn’t matter that the chamber was loaded, it didn’t matter that his fingers were on the trigger and any slight movement could cause the end of her life.

Asa’s grip remained firm, her leg barreling into his side in order for Dazai's muscles to jump and his finger to loosen from the trigger just as she pulled it into her line of sight.

And once the cool metal was in her hands, Dazai wondered what she’d do with it, his senses on high alert only to watch the girl simply empty out the chamber of bullets with one hand, the quiet clinking of metal catching his attention immediately.

How dare she, she had the shot and didn’t take it.

Unsatisfied by her actions, the mafioso then darkened before the boy predicted her next strike in order to grab onto her fist roughly and twist it unnaturally behind her back with a huff.

No, she needed to know that she wasn’t as sly as she thought. That he was onto her little game. “Since you’re all riled up, does that mean you’ll stop holding back now too?”

He wondered how she would react to that, if she would lie about his little discovery or own up to her hypocrisy wholeheartedly? Either could be possible, considering she hadn’t disclosed to him outwardly about her watered down battles.

Asagao told him herself back in Bar Lupin that she was a prodigy just like him, that she could murder like a high level assassin and kill with the quickest of hands.

But if that was true then why hadn’t she tried that with him yet? Why hadn’t Asa displayed intent to kill with Dazai if she was so strongly in favor for believable fights?

It didn’t make sense, and he wanted to know why.

And for a moment, she felt her body still underneath his rough touch, as if she really had to think about his words. He seemed to have broken into something personal for her.

Interesting, she wasn’t denying it. But hold on, was she saying that he couldn’t handle her full hellhound side? That he was some kind of fragile little boy who wouldn't stand a chance? Did she forget that he was in the mafia, the youngest executive in the history of the organization?

She didn’t need to worry about such a thing, besides if that was the result Dazai knew he wouldn’t have opposed. So instead, he coaxed her some more. “Come on, Asa-channn. You’re no fair. I wanna die, remember?”

But even still, Asagao didn’t seem convinced, her body unmoving and eyes closing before he felt her physically shiver underneath his touch, almost like she was reliving some kind of unpleasant memory.

Something scared her, enough to cause such a visceral reaction.

Then Dazai watched as Asagao’s head slumped down into herself, her voice strained and bitter, a tone that the boy had never heard from her before. “I don’t kill anymore, I don’t want to be that person again..

Those words, they felt big, like a massive weight had just fallen on both of their shoulders. But why? What did they mean? What kind of person was she when she killed? What was she like when she truly allowed the hellhound side to fully overtake her? He wanted to ask her.

Yet before he could process that sentence, Asa used his apprehension in order to kick his shin and shift her body around, grabbing onto his forearm before flipping the skinny thin boy backwards over her shoulder.

Feeling his body slam against the ground, the girl then moved on top of him, reversing their previous position with a wave of her finger. “Besides that would be a pretty painful way to go, don’t you think?.”

His entire head began to spin instantly, both from the hit and from her change in attitude. Now she was happy, playful and just as carefree as before. There was no sign of that bitter suffocation that he had heard at all.

Which meant only one thing, she was covering it up.

But to be completely honest, every single thought he had seemed to drown out completely as he looked up at the towering force above him.

Her long messy hair was blanketed over her, shielding the two of them in a cave of her own design as she stared down with that same alluring dead eyed stare that he had admired before.

And not only that, the dim, dingy warehouse lights behind her seemed to melt around her head, bathing her in an ethereal light of some kind, something that made the boy’s heart flip unexpectedly and without warning.

God, she looked like an angel like this, so perfect, so heavenly.

Yet whether she resembled an angel of life or death was to be decided. Perhaps this was a sign from some unknown force, telling him that Oda Asagao would either be the beginning or the end of him.

Perhaps she would be the last thing he would see before leaving this world peacefully or perhaps she would carry him to the afterlife and into the pits of hell with her siren song and her dangerous words. He didn’t know.

He was playing with fire after all, selfish by staying by her side even though he shouldn’t have been allowed to. He was clouding her white light, binding her wings and making her fall to meet his level just because he couldn’t bear to be lonely.

How cruel he truly was, to not have the heart to set her free. It was too late now, the demon and the fallen angel, their fates had been sealed whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his fingers up, Dazai then ghosted across a strand of her falling hair before turning his head in curiosity. “Touché. Well, since you know so much let me ask you, love. What do you think is the most beautiful way to die?”

He wanted to know her answer, more than anyone before. Because he knew that she would answer honestly. She wouldn’t brush it off or disregard the meaning like everyone else.

Dying was a touchy subject it seemed, because although the boy craved it more than anything, it seemed whenever he brought up his little sad goal, no one ever gave him the answer he was looking for.

He didn’t want to be comforted or to hear that there was no beautiful way of death. No, he wanted perspective, real and true perspective. To see what constituted beauty for others, what that meant in terms of what he was searching for.

Because as much as he wished for peace and beauty in death, the boy didn’t know exactly what that meant. How strange it always was, searching for something so desperately even though he didn’t know the true extent of the meaning.

Waiting with bated breath, Dazai allowed her to silently think before the girl put a finger with a quiet and pensive hum. ““Hmmm, that’s a tough one..”

Then she closed her eyes before her lips curved into a confident beam of light. “I guess I would have to say a lovers suicide!”

And that light was blinding, mixing in with the makeshift halo behind her in order for Dazai to turn his head in confusion.He had never thought about that before. Hell, he didn’t even know the term. How curious. “Lovers suicide?”

Nodding to herself, Asa then lifted her pinky finger out in explanation. “Yeah, like a double suicide, you know? Because even if you deemed that the world was awful, you would still have to admit that there was at least one person that made the experience worth it, enough to want to follow them all the way to the afterlife.”

Then to prove her point, the girl simply reached down before interlocked Dazai’s pinky finger with her own, a small smile of her lips as the boy gazed at the sight in awestruck wonder.

Of course she would say something like that. Only Asagao could answer a question about death so hopefully and tragically captivating. Her desire to see the good, to twist the narrative into a positive one, they were extremely prevalent here.

But for once, Dazai didn’t mind it, he liked the idea of having someone to die with. The thought had never crossed his mind before, to have someone to treasure you enough to want to follow you until the very end. It sounded nice. Almost beautiful even, just like he wanted.

Testing out the words on his tongue, the boy whispered. “A double suicide..”

Nodding once, Asa pulled their interlocked pinkies towards her heart in reply. “Yeah! It’s romantically tragic in its own right, don’t you think?”

It was, it really was. In fact, it was so tragically perfect that Dazai knew he would’ve never had thought of such a thing himself. Simply because he wouldn't have allowed himself to think of something so nice and positive.

But now that it was spoken into the world, it couldn’t be forgotten. “I’ve never thought about that before. Do you really think someone would want to do that with me?”

Could it be, could someone really dedicate themselves to him to that extent, enough to give up everything, to walk hand and hand with him to the end of the line? No, that was impossible, no one wanted him, especially in that way.

Asa only shrugged her shoulders though. “You never know! Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Then all at once, clarity seemed to flash in his eyes. “You’re right..”

That’s it, he just had to ask every woman he saw, then maybe one day he’d get lucky.

Reaching forward, Dazai then shifted his hands in order to grasp onto her wrist before meeting her eyes with a hopeful smile. “Hey Asa-chan! Do you wanna..”

Yet Asagao seemed to already know where he was going with his question, her hand immediately unlatching from his in order to playfully shove her palm into his face and push him back onto the ground. “Sorry Osu, I would do a lot of things for you but killing myself won’t bring me closer to my brother. The only death I’ll accept is one by your hand.”

Damn it, she had said that before, hadn’t she? Ah well, worth a shot.

Throwing his arms out with a child-ish whine, Dazai then pouted his lips at the rejection. “Boo, you give me such a good idea and then turn me down? That’s not very nice. I’m sad now.”

Asagao only laughed though, her tiny giggles taking up the space of his question before pointing a finger out in an offer of her own. “Well, we can’t have that. Oh, I know. How about we stop by the shop on the way home and I’ll buy you some canned crab to make up for it?”

And although it wasn’t what he wanted, her offer enticed him just as much, the boy’s eyes sparkling with pure joy in order to nod his head excitedly.

“Deal!”

——

Stepping through the door of Odasaku’s apartment, Asagao happily turned on the light, the plastic bag full of canned crab clinking together as she moved, only for Dazai to quickly take off his black mafia jacket and throw it on the ground.

And in the past couple weeks of them reuniting, the girl noticed Osamu's childish traits more and more, an action that made her strangely happy. Sure, she still wasn’t sure if he was being completely authentic but she couldn't deny that he at least looked more free when he did them.

In fact, their relationship had grown exponentially since the night Asa cared for him and took off his bandages. She was worried that by pushing that much she would’ve scared him away but it seemed to be the opposite, and for that she was grateful.

Now he came over whenever he pleased, without excuse, and without worry. She would make sure he ate and they would watch TV together and sometimes they would go out to spar like tonight. If anything, the two had definitely moved past the term strangers and into more of a friendship based relationship.

They understood each other, most of the time without words, and that was refreshing to both of them, considering no one else could do such an impossible thing. They were alike and yet so different depending on the circumstance. It was almost fascinating to think about.

She had never had that before, someone that understood so much with so little.

And where most people would call it invasive, Asagao saw his nosey and deductive attitude as a marvel. Although, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, considering she stepped out of boundaries before.

But those days seemed long gone as the girl turned back to Osamu only to pause when she noticed discolored tan stains on the bandages around his arms. Well, that was weird.

Reaching her hand up, Asagao then lightly touched his forearm, careful to keep her touch on the gauze as she inspected the source. “What is this?”

Although all she received was a boy-ish smile, filled with fake innocence. “Coffee?”

Almost immediately, something about his sentence seemed off, causing Asa to cock an eye with suspicion. “I didn’t even know you drank coffee..”

Then all at once, the boy nodded his head erratically, his lips moving at a mile a minute in order to give an over the top laugh. “Oh, yeah! I love it, I can’t get enough of it. That’s why I spilled some on me this morning. Oops, I’m so clumsy, aren’t I? Didn’t even notice it till now.”

Pouting his lips all at once, Dazai then whined to himself dramatically. “But now that you mention it, it feels really gross, like super uncomfortable. Asa-chan, you gotta save me! I don't know how I can go on like this..!”

His story was strange, considering she had never heard him speak about liking coffee before, nor did he ever choose that as his drink of choice. Usually it was just whiskey and any other alcohol he could get his hands on.

And what Asagao didn’t know was that she was completely right. In fact, Dazai had never touched the stuff before this morning. He didn’t love coffee, but the reason he had bathed himself in it was purposeful.

You see, ever since the first night Asagao changed his bandages, Dazai couldn’t get enough. He wanted that feeling back, the one that made him feel so safe and cared for. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and trust me, he had tried.

Which led him to taking matters into his own hands, aka finding ways to dirty his bandages so that he would have an excuse to give Asagao the next time he saw her.

At first it started with blood, making sure to purposely hurt his enemies in the most messy way possible in order to soil the white gauze, but then it moved to other things such as alcohol, and rolling around in dirt or dunking himself in nearby rivers.

And today’s plan involved coffee. He had gotten the idea when he saw one of his subordinates walk around the corner with one. So naturally, he ordered the guy to give it up in order to pour the lukewarm liquid on his arms with delightful glee.

Anything to get Asa to touch him like that again, to feel so important and special again. Was it underhanded? Possibly, but the boy knew he couldn’t just come out and ask for such an embarrassing thing.

Staying silent for a moment, he then watched as Asagao seemed to turn his wrist, examining the sight before she let him go with a smile. “I’ll go get the bandages. Meet you on the couch.”

And just like that, he had won yet again, causing the boy to practically skip to the plush cushions of the sofa, unable to hide his delight in song as he watched her go into Oda’s bedroom to receive the first aid kit. “Yay! Asa-chan is gonna help me, she’s gonna help me, yeah! Asa-chan is the best, she’s the very best, yeah!”

Once she turned the corner though, Asagao couldn’t help but close her eyes, already sensing his deceptive demeanor. No one spilled things that clumsily, especially Dazai. Which meant that it was for a purpose.

But because his actions didn’t seem self destructive, the girl chose to ignore them. It’s not like she minded changing out his bandages time and time again. In fact, she loved doing it, it made her feel closer to him.

Returning to the sofa, Asagao then placed herself beside him before placing the gauze on the table only for Dazai to immediately loosen his port mafia tie from his neck with one hand. “Lean closer, darling.”

So she did, the girl pushed her head closer to him so that he could slip off her glasses before unraveling the tie as she averted her gaze from his in silent wait.

Back in the warehouse she may have been able to look at him without her blurry barriers but now that she wasn’t distracted by the fight everything seemed way harder. She still couldn’t look at him head on like this, no matter how much she tried.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind though, his fingers only focused on securing the black tie around her eyes and into a firm knot as Asagao felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

So much better.

Then once her view was obstructed, Dazai couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her instant compliance each and every time.

He loved how she never protested to such a strange request, how she never judged him for not being able to do this without the blindfold. No, she knew that he needed this to continue and Dazai was grateful for that.

Once it was done, Asagao moved her fingers towards the coffee stained coverings before slowly undoing each bind as Dazai felt his breath hitch inside his throat at the emotionally intimate contact.

And even though they had done this exchange about a dozen times, each one felt like the very first. It never got easier, it never made his ears stop ringing and his skin stop shivering.

But like some psychotic masochistic man, Dazai never pulled away, his eyes always entranced with her careful and respectful moves, each calculated, each with a certain intent.

He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the way she cherished him.

Because as scary as it was, her gentle non judgemental fingers gave him a sense of calm along with the chaos. They terrified him and yet they always soothed him in every kind of mitch matched way.

They reached down to the deepest part of his soul, the one he didn’t know existed and embraced it in a warm and welcoming hug. And though the warmth was uncomfortable and foreign, he didn’t outright hate it anymore.

In fact it was quite the opposite, the boy wanted to run to it, he wanted to jump head first into that dangerous and vulnerable place and never return. He was addicted in every possible way, addicted to the idea of being held by her forever.

This was all her fault, how could she? Making him experience such a life changing feeling, he knew this would happen, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist this once he had it. How dare she, how dare she make him feel such weak and fragile emotions again.

How dare she coax him into thinking he deserved such a wonderful experience like this?

Those thoughts made him want to be protected by her hands forever, and with the low murmur of the TV in the background and the sickeningly sweet sound of Asagao’s hum to break through the noise, Osamu did feel exactly that.

Protected.

Slowly and without words, Asagao then hummed to herself in order to wrap the fresh clean bandages around his arms before securing the sight and pulling down her blindfold. “Do you feel better now?”

He simply nodded, still in a daze as Asagao smiled softly in return before replacing her glasses. “Good, I’m glad.”

A soft silence appeared then as the two kids allowed it to fill the room in order to turn their attention to the screen that was playing the latest anime episode of the show that they had been interested in lately.

This was nice, just being with him, relaxing without a care in the world. It made the foreign walls of her brother’s apartment feel more personal and belonging. Hopefully it was the same for Osamu also.

Just then, the sounds from the TV snapped her back to reality, watching as the the main character clapped excitedly as the room around her revealed her friends and family, all of them wishing her a happy birthday in joyish surprise. Aw, how cute. They planned all that out for her.

The sight couldn’t help make Asagao pause though, realizing something almost immediately. “Hey, Samu. Now that I think about it, when is your birthday? My brother never said in his letters and I’ve always been curious.”

Yet that’s when she watched Dazai pause, his voice rather dead and monotone, as if he was mentally waving the question away. “Oh, it was five months ago.”

Feeling her face fell in horror, Asa shook her head in denial. “W-Wait..I missed it..?”

No, that couldn’t be. That meant that during the time they were apart he celebrated his birthday by himself? How sad. No one even knew and he just let it pass like nothing, didn’t he?

Wait. That meant that Dazai was now sixteen, didn't it? She didn’t even realize.

It didn’t matter that he never mentioned it until now, how could possibly let such a thing pass so quietly without a word? Now she felt awful. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Samu! What kind of fake girlfriend am I? I didn’t even say happy birthday to you. What is wrong with me, I should've asked sooner, I should’ve..”

Yet the boy only cut her off though, his tone clearly dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. Celebrating life is stupid anyways.”

But how could she not worry about it? That was an impossible task, one that she knew she couldn't complete “B-But..I..”

Dazai only pushed a finger to her lips though, stopping any sense of self hatred she was about to utter before shaking his head.“I already said don’t worry your pretty little head, love. Now, stop that frown or else you’ll turn ugly like Chuuya.”

Then the boy simply smiled before flopping his head onto her lap comfortably in order to turn towards the TV and ignore the conversation completely. “Now, shush, pillows aren’t supposed to be noisy.”

And when the air turned silent once more, it was far more solemn as Asagao absently moved her hand to his hair with an unsatisfied sigh.

But for Dazai, the topic had already left his mind as the soothing feeling of her hand on his hair caused his eyes to grow heavier and heavier with bliss, immediately getting lost in the soft caresses and lulling touch.

How could he think about anything when her magic had already utterly captivated him?

Feeling Osamu’s head sink further into the safety of her lap, Asagao felt her eyes soften at the sleeping boy before thinking back to her previous question.

And though Dazai seemed to forget about it, she could not, his sad little words consuming her mind all at once.

Celebrating life is stupid anyways

Closing her eyes with dissatisfaction, Asagao then shook her head, not liking the implications of his words as she wished to change them even so.

And she would change them, she had to.

“But it’s not just any life, it’s your life. ”

[marmotsomsierost]

I have been sick since fuckin. What day. The fuckin 16th of december is when this bullshit started. It is JANUARY FUCKIN FIFTH. That saturday i woke up, coughed (not super unusual with this persistent stupid postnasal drip crap) so hard i puked all of the little i had in my stomach out (super unusual) and had a scratchy throat for the rest of the day. Didn't think anything of it. Was feeling kind of but not really better towards evening. Then, decorating the tree, cough drop in mouth, i go to fling a string of lights up and inhale said cough drop, which lodges just below my thyroid.

I do not die. The dog and the husband are not convinced. I use actual words to mention the not dying thing. They are...slightly more convinced.

Sunday i wake up with sensation in throat, not like pain, not raw, just like...there's something there that isn't normally there. Have minor cough and very raspy voice. Sinuses mostly clear. I wake up on the 20th and have literally no voice. I need my voice to be able to triage people. I call out sick. I go back the next day, it's fine. Still little cough, mostly clear sinuses, just suddenly a tenor. This continues until the 25th.

Dinner on christmas i find annoying to eat. It's like my throat has decided it's full and the stomach goes 'eh okay sure let's stop' in weird agreement. I go to work the next day.

I have turned into the crotchety old man you never see out of scooterdress with snus in his lip and a suspicious possibly-sentient coffee mug in one hand and the other hand tucked into the front of his bibbed pants. Basically Bjørn Sundquist. Anyway.

I now have a coughing wheezy rasp where by the end of the night i will cough all the air out of my lungs, die, gasp in air, cough that out, die again, then am able to breathe again. Unfortunately not shiny and chrome. Still. I call out the next morning, have a video visit, get some antibiotics and an inhaler, we're good to go right.

Wrong. Turns out pretending really really hard that you don't have a fever does not actually get rid of said fever. I call out again. I'm off work the next three days anyway, that gives me a nice block of time to finish my antibiotics and get back to normal.

There's no tech for the two days before new year's day so when i show up despite sounding like a zombie everyone is all 'oh thank god you're here' and 'we have a tech?? We have TWO TECHS?? Yeah!' But about four hours in i keep getting the concerned face and side-eye of concern and avaunt foul beast from the rest of the ED. The doctor tells me i sound worse than half of the patients. The PA listens to my lungs and says something like 'wow with that cough i figured your lungs would be shit but they're actually really clear'. The loud triage nurse says 'well hell marmot's been coughing for weeks and she's still here' loudly several times in earshot of patients whose chief complaint is 'cough since this morning' and the night shift triage nurse tells the charge nurse that i can stay in the back, he wants to keep the front plague-free.

I almost call out yesterday. I had the phone in my hand but an alert went out that the evening tech called out and wednesday was a shitshow so i was like okay, i'm not that bad, i'll go in.

I should have called out. I have alarms set for when to take the sudafed and the cough medicine and the inhaler because time is fake at the best of times and this ain't the best of times. I survive to the end of the shift. I blow my nose before i leave and my ears pop- the right clears fast, the left clears by the time i get home.

I'm off today. Cough is demonstrably better in frequency if nothing else, even without regular doses of medicine. I get home from dropping samus at the vet (she's fine) and blow my nose again, and ears pop. Left ear won't clear. It doesn't hurt but it is driving me absolutely batshit insane. It's like juuuust on the edge of fucking with my equilibrium. I've tried gum. Decongestant. Antihistamines. Soak in hot bath in our dwarf-ass tub as best i can. Am about to try broiling in a shower.

I'm so tired of this crap. Where is bones with a magic lung-fixing ear-clearing pill when you need him.

[84t8r41n2]

When Natalie comes to her realization, she’s with Misty cleaning up Shauna’s mess.

Said realization is that she may be falling in love with Misty fucking Quigley. The same Misty Quigley who stalked her, put a camera in her room, and wasted $300 of coke trying to stop nat from relapsing.

The Misty who has always stuck by Nat even when she pushed her away and hurt her in so many ways.

Natalie starts to feel guilty as she watches Misty move Adams body.

Why does misty do so much for this broken team when its so clear nobody enjoys her presence. Natalie, for the second time today comes to the realization that misty loves to try and mend broken things. That misty has this fucked up sense that she needs to be a savior to any and all people she can.

And Natalie for a brief second wants Misty to be her savior. Wants Misty to try and put her back together, but that thought is quickly pushed away.

She knows that letting her live out the delusion that she can fix Natalie wouldn’t be good for either of them. Only Natalie can fix herself and maybe she’d like the company of misty while she does, just as a friend or something more. Not as a savior.

Natalie is then jolted from her inner monolog by the very person she was monologging about.

“Nat? Natalie? Are you going to help me or just stand there.” Misty says with a slight smile.

Suddenly remembering what she’s here to do. “Huh? Oh fuck, yeah sorry.”

Natalie isn’t one to become nervous around women. But sitting on the floor and scrubbing blood off of it with Misty, she is. Nervous that they might get caught covering up a murder.

And nervous that after cleaning up this body, misty will go back to ignoring her. Something Natalie unexpectedly hates thinking about.

Yes misty is annoying, and way to cheerful about cleaning up a body, but Natalie, as she hates to admit. Likes having misty around. Though she’d never tell Misty that.

Something about Misty’s stupid laugh and weird interests endears Natalie. The way misty is always so excited to see Natalie. Not to mention Misty isnt ugly, she’s very pretty actually.

Natalie sneaks a glance at misty’s face and she feels a ping of want in her heart, and she now realizes something for the fifth time today, she is about to make a mistake.

She clears her throat, which draws Misty’s attention.

“Uhm Im sorry. About being such a dick to you. Don’t fucking say anything stupid about it or I’ll take it back.” She mostly adds that last part because she feels, weird. About this thing she’s trying to do right now.

“Mm, its okay! I know its mostly because of some unresolved trauma or whatever, and what happened out there! I never hold it against you.” Misty says back still scrubbing the floor.

And Nat hates, how misty can just brush it off, not care about how horrible Natalie has treated her. She also hates that Misty called her out, because she’s right. It is unresolved trauma. But she stops herself before she can get to deep into such a depressing thought.

“Right. So i was, wondering is you wanted to hang out or whatever after we get this done..?”

Surely misty would jump at this chance so she doesn’t understand why she’s so nervous.

Sure enough misty does jump at the chance. Literally.

She gets off her knees and starts jumping in place.

“Really? Okay okay, uhm how about going for coffee? No, to conventional. Theme park? No you definitely wouldn’t like that…”

Misty starts to ramble, and Natalie begins to regret it but pushes that down. Misty deserves to be treated well after how Natalie treated her.

“Just fuckin pick something please.”

“Sleepover!” Misty squeals like she’s 17 again.

Natalie figures she never got to have a sleepover so she just nods and they finish doing their part of the Adam situation.

.

.

.

.

Natalie pulls up on the beat up motorcycle she bought after she sold her car.

She figures she could’ve walked to misty’s house but she does still like her, so she might as well try to impress her a bit.

Natalie can see misty looking outside, probably waiting for her. She smiles a bit thinking about Misty setting up and eagerly waiting for her arrival.

She walks up and doesnt even have to knock on the door before it opens.

“Hi Natalie! Cool bike by the way!”

Misty is practically jumping for joy.

Natalie gives a hum in response.

“Can i come in?”

Misty steps aside, signaling for her to come in. She can see that misty has cooked dinner, and has netflix pulled up on the tv.

“You really prepared for this huh?” Only slightly teasing.

“Well its not everyday Natalie Scatorccio says yes to a sleepover.” She can see misty has a smirk on her face. Natalie thinks its not the most unpleasant thing she’s seen.

“So uh, what are the plans then?”

“Okay so first dinner, obviously. Then if you want theres ice cream for dessert. Then i figured we’d watch a movie? Then bed and i’ll make breakfast in the morning?”

This actually isn’t such a bad plan. Natalie nods.

“So whats for dinner?”

“Spaghetti.” Misty smiles that Misty smile and leads her to the dining room.

.

.

.

After they’re done eating Misty brings out the ice cream. It is a huge pint and, mainly strawberry. Natalie’s favorite flavor.

“Did you do this on purpose?”

“What ever do you mean?”

“..Dont play dumb.”

She’s looking at Misty and with the way she’s smiling at Natalie she definitely knew this was her favorite flavor, but then again misty might know Natalie better then she knows herself so she’s not surprised.

“Okay yes, now cmon.”

Misty grabs nat’s wrist and leads her to the couch, just like she did leading her to the dining room. Misty lets go when they get to the couch and Natalie finds herself missing the contact. She doesn’t say that though.

She sits close to misty. Trying to close the gap just a bit before they choose a movie.

Misty, to engrossed in trying to pick a movie they’d both like, doesn’t notice.

Natalie sees an opening and stares at Misty. Admiring her features, how her hair falls around her face, how her nose curves, how soft her lips look. She wonders if misty wears lip balm, wonders if her lips have a faint fruity taste.

Natalie has to stop herself from finding out on her own.

She shakes that thought and focuses on choosing a movie that would scare Misty.

“Lets watch Texas chainsaw massacre.” She says

“Mm i’ve never seen it!”

She watches misty search it up and press play.

Her plan was for Misty to get scared and for Natalie to comfort her, but she should’ve known better. She’s misty.

She’s staring at the screen while putting a scoop of ice cream in her mouth once and a while. Not scared at all, more interested in the plot then anything.

So her only plan failed. She figures its best to just let the night play out then.

.

.

.

The movie finishes and they get up, but not before misty grabs Natalie’s wrist again.

Natalie’s whole body becomes warm at her touch. She figures misty is only holding her wrist to lead her to the bedroom.

She heats up a bit more thinking about what this could be seen as. She likes the thought of misty leading her to bed, just to tear her to pieces and put her together again. To touch her in ways Natalie has touched herself.

She shakes the thought. Not the time.

.

.

.

“Alright bedtime!” Misty had led her to the bedroom like Natalie thought she would.

As she watches misty get ready for bed she realizes she didn’t bring any clothes to sleep in.

“Misty?”

“Hm?”

“I forgot clothes.”

Misty giggles and Natalie feels a bit embarrassed.

“Hold on, i’ll find you something!”

Nat watches as misty rummages through her drawers until she finds a plain black shirt and some pink shorts.

“Here ya go! I figured you wouldn’t want a sweater or a cat shirt or anything.”

Well misty was right, she would’ve hated a sweater.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

Then misty pulls her shirt over her head and turns around to find a shirt to sleep in.

But Natalie freezes, and she stares at Misty’s back. Of course misty isn’t shy to show her body, but it drives Nat a little crazy. Seeing how Misty’s body curves, how smooth her skin is.

And Natalie for the second time tonight, wants to touch her, to caress her waist, hold her close to her own body. To hold her hips down while Misty is in a compromising position.

She wants to fantasize more but the thoughts are interrupted.

“Stop staring.”

Misty has that smirk she had earlier tonight, like she knows what she’s doing to her. She slips a shirt on.

Natalie scoffs to act like she wasn’t gawking and imagining eating Misty out.

“Like i ever would.”

Natalie changes quickly to avoid embarrassment and awkwardness, all while Misty giggles.

“Where am i sleeping?”

“In the bed with me?”

Oh.

Natalie hadn’t considered this is what they’d be doing.

“Right, right. Okay.”

She hesitantly climbs into Misty’s bed. While misty climbs in after her.

“Goodnight!”

.

.

.

Natalie is sleeping when Misty wakes her up.

“Nat? Hey? Can you, hold me?”

Natalie hums in response and turns to face her. She’s to tired to refuse and its not like she would have anyway.

She grabs Misty’s waist and pulls her to her chest. She can feel misty snake her arms around her.

“Whats this about?”

“Im not sure. Having you here, in the same bed as me, near me. It reminds me of the cabin. How close we all slept together.”

Now Misty brings it up she feels the same. Its not the most pleasent memory to go back to. So she understands why misty wants to be held.

Natalie hums again. Understanding how Misty feels.

“Im sorry i woke you.”

“Im glad you did. If you’re having bad memories, i’d prefer you let me go through it with you.”

And at that she hears misty giggle into her chest.

“Its just, back then we were all so broken. I think maybe we still are but it was so much worse back then. Having to watch our friends die. Eating them”

Natalie stiffens at the eating bit, remembering how she tore into Javi, how she cried and screamed trying to save him. And how misty held her back, saving her.

“I can barely eat beef anymore. Its to similar.”

Natalie relates to that. She’s stopped eating meat all together. Hating how similar the texture and taste was.

“I get it, you aren’t alone in that.”

“I know. Thank you for agreeing to this sleepover, you made me really happy tonight.”

Nat squeezes Misty a bit, letting her know its not a big deal.

“You ready to go to bed?”

“Can we stay like this?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

Natalie hesitates but plants a small kiss on Misty’s forehead.

“Goodnight.”

She waits till she feels Misty’s breath become slow and shallow before she sleeps.

Yeah, Natalie definitely loves Misty Quigley.

[valeffelees]

@youarenevertooold OMG HEY, YEAH, you may absoLUTELY see the potato frittata scene. 😄🖤 ok so, this comes from a zero draft of mine called The Malaise of Jealous Men and it is one of my absolute favourites, the writing is kind of rough 'cause again: zero draft, and the actual plot of this fic is a lot to explain, but the need-to-know leading up to this scene is just that at the beginning of eighth year Simon and Niall get assigned a project together and end up inadvertently becoming friends.

"Who was that?" "My sister." "You have a sister?" The corners of Niall's eyes crease—brown today, natural. Large and dark on his face, honeyed at the edges by the lights in the dining hall. "I have a twin, Simon." "You what?" "We're not close," he says, flapping his hand. Dismissive. Like Niall not being close to his sister explains how Simon could've missed the fact that this boy he's known for almost seven years has a twin he didn't know about. Simon asks, "Does she avoid you or something?” Then realises how shit that sounds and adds, “I mean, just. You know.” He shrugs. “I never see her in class with us." Niall pulls his wand from his sleeve and spells away the mess on the table. An ice-cold breeze bites through the room with it, the smell of salt and cold water, river weeds, ocean air. "We pick our schedules accordingly,” he says. “Signe was in all our first year classes with us but you were prob'ly too busy trying to tie Basil's shoelaces together to notice." Simon folds his arms. "We aren’t that bad." Niall quirks both of his eyebrows up. "I mean,” Simon says, “not first year." "You sure as shit were," he snorts, and his smile is back. Long and narrow, sharp enough to cut glass. "First year was the worst—no, wait. I take that back. Fifth was fucking awful. You’re a loon, by the way." "Oh fuck off, mate, Baz is the one who—" Dev slams his tray down on the table. An apple bounces off the corner. It rolls forward, slowly. Bumps up against the side of Simon’s teacup, then sits and wobbles there for what feels like an impossibly (and, frankly, unnecessarily) long time before Niall reaches over and sets his hand on it. His fingers curl a ghostly shade of pink around all that bright green skin. Simon lifts his gaze, moving joint by joint from Niall’s wrist to his elbow, from his elbow to his shoulder, from his shoulder to his face. He’s grinning at Dev like a cobra, that razor-blade mouth of his turned downright feral. “Oi,” he chirps. “Fuckin’ cat drag you in or what?” Dev doesn’t look like Baz much. They’re cousins—or, Simon’s pretty sure they’re cousins. Cousin-adjacent, maybe. Probably something stupid like fourth cousins twice removed with two sugar and chips on the side or however the fuck families work when you’re rich and posh. But where Baz is all sharp and tall and cold, Dev is... just, not. He looks like Baz with a tablespoon of honey and splash of milk stirred in. Short and bird-like, warm. His hair is a dark shock of feathery brown and his skin is the deep, blushless golden tone of a dry grassland. He’s glaring across the table at Simon from beneath heavy, black eyebrows like he wants to shove him down a flight of stairs. (That might be the one thing he and Baz do have in common.) "Hi," Simon says, awkwardly. Dev sneers. (Make that two things.) "Look," he hisses, pulling out his chair. He sits with his elbows spread to the sides of his tray, leaning forward on them, "this is weird and I hate it, but I'm not sitting across the dining hall alone while you two cunts cuddle up over fucking tea and biscuits or whatever the fuck this is, so let's just skip the part where we make a big deal out of it." Simon looks down at his plate with a confused frown. “This is potato frittata.” Dev’s face does something funny. Twists a bit, like he's in pain. Or smells something rotten. Or like he's in pain while smelling something rotten. He says, “Niall.” “Well,” Niall replies, and takes a loud, crisp bite of Dev’s apple, “he’s not wrong.” “Niall.” “Are there biscuits?” Simon asks, glancing over at the serving station. He stands up. “I didn’t see any biscuits.” Niall nudges his shin under the table. “Sit,” he says. “There ‘re no biscuits.” Simon does. “Niall!” “He does this sometimes,” Niall tells him. “Just give 'im a sec, he'll get over it.”

[dejwrites]

MUSE, CHAPTER 15 (PRESENT)

— warning: profanity, mentions of infidelity, mature scenes included, smut is included in this, chapters jumps from past to present, college au (past), luxury rich adults (present), intercourse in a car, usage of spit, gagging, slight praise kink, angst, this chapter lowkey setting up for the messiness, reader implied to be black, kinda like a hbo sitcom in my head — chapter summary: the journey of nanami gaining y/n's trust back starts right now.

— previous chapter. masterlist. taglist. ao3

NANAMI KENTO WAS ALWAYS A FAMILY MAN. His family was quite known in Japan. With his mother being a well-known jeweler and his father being an established lawyer, the bloodline was as successful as it can get. He understood that his family strived for the best and they weren’t expecting anything but the best. The outrageous idea of him being an artist nearly put both his parents into a retirement home early. They expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a lawyer, but he just couldn’t. With being one of the most successful artists in the world, they managed to finally let go of the disappointment of him being an artist. However, they still wanted control of his life by choosing who he will be married to—which blew up in their face and is the reason why he was meeting with them in the first place.

As he made his way through the restaurant, following behind the hostess as they led him to a table in a secluded area for privacy—the artist was not only met with his parents but his grandfather Karou also. His grandfather was old, very old—but he still had a mouth on him that caused Nanami to sulk into his seat in embarrassment. “Good Afternoon,” Nanami exclaimed as he took the seat across from his mom and next to his grandfather. 

“We heard the news. I can’t believe we didn’t know, we thought we did so much research on that woman and her family,  sweetie.” His mother rubbed at her temple in shame. “I’m so sorry sweetie, I can only imagine how you feel having to fall out of love with her due to this.” She sighs.

The thing is, Nanami fell out of love with Serena (or should he say Lana) a long time ago. He felt stupid that he didn’t listen to his heart to break it off. Only thinking about disappointing his parents if he broke off the engagement and how horrible of a PR disaster that would be, now knowing that Lana was a con artist. Deep down Nanami knew that Lana knew he was never in love with her. He just didn’t know how long. 

“Give me a fuckin’ break Kento!” Serena yelled as she was sipping from the bottle of wine. “You’re still in love with that woman.” 

Nanami had his back turned away from her as he was washing dishes. He knew that she was just drunk, on her fifth glass of wine for the evening. He had an important meeting in the morning and he didn’t have time to indulge in any arguments with her tonight. 

“I’m engaged to you, not her!” Nanami finally spoke up. 

“It doesn’t seem like it. Ever since your gala, you have just been acting differently.” Serena argued back as she placed the bottle down on the marble counter. 

Nanami knew that was true. Y/N and him slept together here in this house before Serena and himself moved into it. Afterward, all he could see was her. Y/N L/N. When he had sex with Serena, that’s all he saw was Y/N. The mere memory of them having sex as if they were back in college swirled around his mind. Serena just wasn’t like Y/N. While Y/N was this genuine and kind person, Serena was the complete opposite of that. 

Nanami turned around to look at Serena—meeting the glare she was giving him. He dried his hands using the dish towel and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then leave, Serena. If you’re so sure about this. Leave.”

Nanami should have known right there that Serena was only there for his money. What type of woman knowingly stays in an engagement when their fiancé is in love with someone else? Then again what type of man stays in an engagement when he’s in love with someone else? Nanami couldn’t put the full blame for the situation on his parents or Serena, he had to take the blame also. For lying to Y/N to even pretending to be in love with someone like Serena. He couldn’t even forgive himself for his actions, so he highly doubts Y/N would. 

“We would like to apologize, son,” His father spoke up, completely interrupting Nanami’s thoughts.

“As you should. You both should be ashamed of yourself for even trying to dictate his life.” Karou spoke up.

“Dad.” Nanami’s mom spoke firmly. “Please don’t start.” 

“It’s true. We wouldn’t have to worry about the PR disaster to come if you guys just let the kid do what he wants,” Karou explained. He nudged his grandson’s side and gave him that grin he always gave him. “You trusted him to major in what he wanted to do despite not agreeing with it—and you see where that got him.” 

Nanami could always count on his grandfather to be the voice of reason in the situation. He watched as his parents shared a look before excusing themselves from the table. They probably had to talk about what to do in a situation like this. After all, they did help create it. Nanami leaned back into his seat before Karou broke the silence. 

“Ken, do you still keep in contact with that one girl?” Karou asked as he looked at him. 

“What girl, grandpa?” Nanami asked.

“Don’t act so stupid, that pretty one. She always had such a bright smile when guys would take me to my doctor’s appointment together when you were in college.” 

Nanami chuckles at his statement, “You mean when you would not go to your doctor’s appointment unless I brought her with me.” 

“It’s nothing wrong with that,” Karou answered slowly. “I think you should contact her again, when you’re ready, of course.” 

Nanami sighed. “It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand,” He adds. “I think I messed that up a long time ago.” 

“Of course, ‘cause you’re stupid and spend too much time kissing your parents' ass.” 

“Grandpa!” 

“It’s the truth.” Karou took a sip of his water. 

Nanami watched as his hand shook while he lifted the glass. He knew not to help his grandfather do such a task simply because he would only complain. “She was caught in the crossfire of this Serena situation and I may have burnt my bridges with her badly.” 

“Okay? So rebuild these bridges.” Karou said just as Nanami’s parents returned to the table.

He watched as his parents shared a look before his father was speaking. “We are so sorry son. We take full responsibility for trying to control your life so much. Now you have to worry about this woman possibly ruining your reputation.” 

“There’s proof of her being a con artist, she most likely went along to con someone else. I just want to move on from this.” Nanami responded. “I can’t fully blame you guys since you were just trying to do what was best for me. However, for now—I have to go rebuild some bridges I burnt down with somebody..so excuse me.” He stood up from the table and walked away.

Before he got further away from the table, he turned to see his grandfather giving him a thumbs up and poorly executed wink. Nanami chuckles before heading out of the restaurant. He had to make amends with Y/N and he would do anything to do that. Even if there is a possibility that she didn’t even want anything to do with Nanami, he still hopes that she would forgive him at least. He couldn’t live a life where the one girl he cared about didn’t at least know how sorry he was. He could live without the two of them not being as close as they used to, but—he couldn’t live with the thought of Y/N not hearing him apologize. 

As soon as he got into his car, he zoomed to Y/N’s office as if his life depended on it. His mind raced with what he would say to her. Well, he should start with sorry. Yeah, he’ll start with that and just go from there. The insane thing about all of this is that Nanami still kept in contact with Mariah. Mariah still emailed him about ideas for the collaboration with himself and Y/N, which he had to admit the young fashion designer had some amazing ideas. He still thought the idea of combining his art and Y/N’s fashion could be good for both of them. It could open up their career to so many different things. 

When Nanami arrived at Y/N’s office, Mariah who was at her desk eyes bulged out her head seeing Nanami. She quickly stood up trying to catch up with his prideful strides. “Uh, what are you doing here?” Mariah asked.

“I’m here to apologize to Y/N. I know I don’t have any flowers or anything, but I need her to know that I’m sorry.” Nanami looked at Mariah with the most heartbreaking eyes.

She felt like if she were to utter Y/N’s name, the man in front of her would break down crying. Mariah would shake her head, “No, this isn’t a good time.” She exclaims.

“Is she in a meeting right now? I can wait.” Nanami said.

“No.”

“Zoom call?” 

“No.” 

“Designing something. I know she hates when people interrupt her doing that.” Nanami admits. 

“No.” 

“Then what?” Nanami asked.

“I know about your fiancé being exposed and the quite interesting cabin trip, but I think she and Toji broke up. I mean they technically weren’t dating—but it really hit her. She just doesn't want to be bothered right now.” Mariah says. “She’s been in her office crying here and there.” 

Nanami’s lips formed a straight line. He didn’t expect Toji and her to call it quits, again. It felt like college all over again. Nanami was a little too familiar with a situation like this. So, he knew exactly how to chair the woman up. “Do you have a vending machine here by chance?” He asked.

Mariah’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. She would nod her head. “It’s down the hall to the left. Right next to the break room.” She admits and Nanami nods, not saying a word to Mariah, and walks down to the hall. 

When he found the vending machine, his chocolate brown hues scanned over the variety of things in it. He figured she would have this specific snack in it considering how she loved them so much. He pulled out his wallet to grab the yen bills to pay for them. As he watch the snack and the drink he paid for drop down to the slot, his mind was racing about what he was going to say. Maybe it was because this time it was so different. In college, they were always on good terms when he consoled her. Now, he felt like it was a bit hypocritical for him to attempt to give her some advice to make her feel better—when he knew he was most likely the reason why she and Toji fell apart in the first place.

When he returned to Mariah, she glanced at the snacks in Nanami’s hand. Her brain couldn’t comprehend what he had planned considering that she had attempted to use food to make the woman feel better also. She even went to that pizza place that sells this pizza Y/N loved. However, last time she checked Y/N had let the pizza grow cold before asking Mariah to put it in the break room fridge as she was attempting to color something in her book. 

“Are you sure about this?” Mariah asked. “I just feel like you’re the last person she wants to see, after Toji.” 

“I’ll be okay. I just think she needs to let out the frustration she has inside of her. If I have to be the one to receive the harsh blows, I’m okay with that.” 

The grasp Mariah had on Nanami’s sleeve loosened as she would step back. Her lips curled in a sly smile—hoping that her boss would at least open up. Even if that meant receiving the harshness first. Nanami had knocked on the office door twice. He didn’t even hear a come in or go away, so he slid into the office and glanced around his surroundings. Y/N was tapping away on her computer, her eyes never leaving the screen and you could hear her faint sniffles from crying previously. Nanami took a couple of steps forward towards her dress—the woman in front of him was so into what was on the computer screen, she didn’t even notice that he had walked in. His lips parted to greet her but when her eyes landed on his, those eyes that once lit up like the brightest stars at night when she saw him, started to water. Her lip gloss-covered lips began to quiver and soon she’s burning her head in her arms on her desk and back to crying. 

Nanami placed the juice box and box of pocky sticks on the desk in front of Y/N. Her head was buried in her arms as she was mumbling something in German, which he was sure was some random profanity word he taught her when she found out he knew German. He could hear her mumbling something, but couldn’t quite understand her. However, her hand did reach in front of her grabbing the juice box he placed in front of her. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but you haven’t kicked me out yet or yelled at me—so maybe I can help you feel better.” Nanami adjusted himself in the seat in front of her desk. “So, I shall wait here until you’re ready to talk..just like old times” He adds.

The memory of sitting in her room listening to her color in some design she had to redo for class in a frustrated manner after her professor had made her redo it. Or when she got into an argument with her parents and gave everyone the silent treatment. Nanami always patiently waited for her to open up to him because he knew she would do the same for him in the roles were reversed. 

So he was sitting in front of her desk flipping through a fashion magazine as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The sound of the miniature desk clock on her desk ticked with each passing minute while the two of them sat in silence. A silence both of them were deeply familiar with. That was between soft swallows from the juice box, and Y/N finally decided to speak. “Why are you here? I’m still mad at you.” 

“I know and that’s not stopping me from leaving,” Nanami responded while his brown-colored eyes never left the magazine he was reading. 

He heard her let out an annoyed sigh before she’s typing away on her computer once again. Occasionally he could hear her munching on the pocky sticks he brought. “So you’re not leaving?” She asks.

“Nope. I met with my parents and grandfather before coming here.” Nanami says. “They apologized for their trouble, but I can’t fully blame them or Serena for the situation. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

Y/N sipped from the juice box and leaned back in her seat. Her eyes finally met with Nanami’s. “Okay and?” She carelessly asked. Her shoulders sluggishly slouch as she leans her head back to be met with the headrest of her chair. 

“It’s going to take more than a lousy sorry for me to forgive you. What you did hurt me and caused a drift in not only our friendship but the friend group as a whole. All of you knew about it except Mei, but no one told me. No one! You guys let me continue to be so dumb when you had Serena all along. So, I can’t accept your apology, not right now.” She pauses to let out a weary sigh before continuing. “But I hate myself because I messed up something that could have been so good for me because deep down you oddly have a place in my heart.” 

Nanami was taken aback by the words that left Y/N’s mouth. His lips parted to speak, but the sound of her phone interrupted the two. He leaned back in his seat as he heard the familiar voice of her former mentor from college Ari Aiko. Ari Aiko was facetiming one of her former mentees with a huge deal for her.

“My love it looks like you have been crying. Have you been crying?” Ari’s voice chirped through the phone. 

Despite the woman being in her fifties, she still had the voice of bright sunshine. Every person in the fashion industry knew who she was. With her vibrant fashion, various fashion shows, and even brighter personality. It is important to note that she wasn’t always like that—Y/N practically changed the woman during college when she was mentoring under her. 

“I’m okay. I just had a rough morning.” Y/N sighs, her eyes darting to Nanami wondering why he was still sitting in her office intruding on her phone call.

Nanami who caught the dangering stare would begin to stand up but Ari’s words stopped him immediately.

“Well, I hope the news I’m about to tell you—stop those dreadful tears. I was rereading over your pitch your assistant sent me weeks ago. You know the collaboration with that handsome artist Nanami Kento. I love the idea of it and hosting it in Paris. I’m hoping you two are still working on that. Although, the gossip has spread around quite quickly that his engagement is off the tables.” Ari was blabbering on nonsense. 

“Uh—I don’t think—” Y/N’s words were cut off by Ari.

“I am willing to sponsor it.” Ari immediately says.

“What?” Y/N asked in shock.

“I would sponsor it. I’m extremely grateful that your assistant didn’t pitch the idea to that lady over at America’s Vogue. It’ll be a good look for you, him, and me. Plus, it will be such an amazing thing in the fashion and art industry.” Ari explained. 

“Okay, but define sponsor? Everyone has different definitions when it comes to investing their money into something.” Y/N’s eyes glance at Nanami who had taken the seat once again and eagerly was listening.

“You’re still as stubborn as can be my love. Just please let me sponsor everything. You two focus on making sure you have models at the show, actual fashion and art to display, a very nice guest list, and a good ass afterparty.” Ari admits. 

Nanami glanced at Y/N. He’s quickly grabbing a sticky note and pen that was on her desk and writing on it. The note stated that, if she didn’t feel comfortable taking the deal—don’t do it. However, the look in Y/N’s eyes was the same look he saw when she hosted her very first fashion show for Paris Fashion Week. It was a look of drive. A quite attractive look to him. 

“Fine. You want to sponsor it, I’m not going to decline that.” Y/N says. “I’ll have my assistant contact your assistant to set up a meeting sometime next week.” 

“Of course. Hugs and kisses.” Ari blew a quick kiss at the camera. “Also be sure to bring the artist with you—after all, it is his artwork that will be on some of your clothes and being displayed.” 

“I’ll let him know. Have a good day Ari.” 

With that Y/N ends the FaceTime call and tosses her phone on the desk. She leans back in her seat and forced a smile on her face. 

“Well Kento, I guess you can use this time to work for my forgiveness.” 

“I was planning on doing that anyway.” Nanami bluntly admitted. 

During that moment of them being boxed in her office, she gave him a sly grin before rolling her eyes and muttering something in German before going back to what she was doing on her computer. Occasionally, picking up pocky sticks to nibble on and not realizing that Nanami was deeply serious about the newest tasks in front of him. That was work for her to trust him again and come up with ideas for their collaboration. 

This was his time to redeem himself and fix something he had broken. 

TAGS — @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @cloudsinthecosmos @woahhajime @sawamurawife @po3ticb3auty @daichisbunny @heyitsiyanas @pulchritxde @classic-les @jazzyangel242 @kunaigirlx44 @savantsoulfinder @protectpancakes @littlemochi @astennu @keke97 @r-xochitl @cosmiic-7

[pancakehouse]

10 !!

hi hi darling, hope you enjoy!! also my lovely @gemmiebear sent this number as well. for both of you.... xoxoxo

10. i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything.

Just past midnight, and the party is in full swing. The common room is packed with sweaty bodies, music blaring - The Clash - from someone’s muggle speakers brought from home. Sirius shakes his hips in the centre of the room, Mary pressed to his back, Marlene to his front, their laughter and off-key singing shouted in his ears. 

Sirius pretends to glance around the room, steals a plastic cup from a passing fifth year, and drinks it all in one go. Alcohol buzzes his mouth, his fingertips, and he feels restless with want. Another three seconds, then he finally lets himself look.

Across the room, Remus’ eyes are already on him. The slant of his mouth - lips parted, shiny and pink - sends a spark straight through Sirius’ gut.

The music thrums (it’s always tease, tease tease / you’re happy when I’m on my knees) and Sirius smirks, watching as a grin - crooked and syrup-sweet - spreads across Remus’ face.

His stomach feels warm, heavy. Drowsy with alcohol and the sure curl of Remus’ fingers around a firewhiskey bottle, at the long column of his throat put on display, Adam’s apple bobbing, when he throws back a shot. Sirius watches, throat dry.

He detangles himself from the girls, and crosses the room. Remus is leaning against the window (cracked-open), a light breeze ruffling his curls. He lifts the bottle as Sirius approaches, takes two more quick swigs.

“Hi,” Sirius says. He steals the drink from Remus, their fingers brushing, and takes one gulp, then another. “Agh-” he winces, wipes his mouth. “Fuckin’ disgusting.” 

“Mm.” Remus just looks at him. The tops of his cheeks are pink, and there’s a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his neck. The sleeves of his jumper (a hideous thing - green with splotchy red and yellow) are pushed to his elbows. Moonlight spills through the window, dances along his skin, the criss-cross of scars covering his forearms, bony wrists, knuckles. “Yeah, it is.” 

It’s been months of this thing between them, and it’s eating Sirius from the inside out. He can barely sleep, barely eat, and his already questionable penchant for completing homework has been thrown to the (ha) wolves. The only things that seem to matter anymore are Remus’ fingers in his hair, and running across his skin. Remus in his bed, their ankles nudging under the table at breakfast, hot breaths and fumbling hands in a bathroom stall between classes. 

It’s now and first thing in the morning and always, always, always. Pushing against Sirius’ ribs, aching fucking want.

Sirius leans next to Remus, brushes their knuckles together. Thinks about the idea he had for next summer: them sharing a tiny flat, a closet, a bathroom sink. All the time they could ever want. He grins at Remus’ chewed-up cuticles, the raw bitten buds.

When he looks up, Remus is watching him curiously. He raises a brow. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, knocks their elbows, and the rest of the room fades. 

Sirius tilts his head against the wall, closes his eyes. .“Oh, you know, just…” You, he thinks. The freckle above your lip, and the one on your jaw. The sound you make when I kiss them. The way your nose scrunches when you yawn and the line that’s creases your forehead when you’re focused. Just…just that. Always that, always you. You, you, you… “Just-” he opens his eyes, murmurs, “-something stupid.”

“Mm.” Remus nods, lips quirking. The peek of a half-formed dimple. “So, the usual, then?” 

A stray curl falls into Remus’ eyes, and Sirius reaches out to smooth it away. He keeps his hand there, cups his cheek, thumb brushing that freckle on his jaw, then the one on his lip. Warm breath hits his skin, and Remus looks at him and looks and looks. “Yeah,” says Sirius. He drags their mouths together, grins into it. “Yeah, the usual.”

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.14 - Everlasting Lover

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Simon tends to Kiera.

The drive back to Kiera's house was quiet. Lawson was the only one sober enough to get them back safely. If it were up to Simon, he would've driven, but he wasn't confident in getting everyone back in one piece as he truly had no idea where the fuck he'd be going. 

Roughly a half-hour later, the truck began rumbling as it transitioned onto the gravel driveway leading to the ranch, the lights from the main lodge catching Simon's attention. He still yet waited to meet her parents, but that was a terrifying thought to him. 

Lawson parked the truck outside Kiera's house, tossing the keys to Simon as he and Lawson helped Kiera get out of the passenger seat. She slung her purse over her shoulder as it was clear she was tipsy, but still aware of her surroundings. "Thanks, kid," She said to Lawson, taking the keys from Simon and putting them in her purse. "I may need to head out somewhere." She said to him, referring to making a sudden trip. 

"Not tonight, you're not." 

"Sun-fucker!" 

"What?" He held in a chuckle. 

"You heard what I said." 

"You're right, I heard what you said, but I don't understand what the fuck that means." 

"Fun-sucker," She corrected, removing her vape pen from her Carhartt shirt pocket, taking a long drag. "That's what I meant to say." 

Simon shook his head, "Fucking hell, let's get you inside." 

"I know where I'm going." She said, nearly stumbling on one of the larger gravels in her driveway. 

"You sure about that?" He chuckled. "You're about to fall over, love." 

"Nope. Got two feet under me." 

"Two left feet." He said. 

Both Lawson and Frankie began laughing, "Well, just make sure she doesn't kill herself. We're gonna head back down to the bunkhouse." 

"I can hear you, ass-hat." Kiera scoffed at her cousin, taking another long drag from the vape pen, feeling the rush of a nicotine high. It wasn't a good combination: liquor, beer, an empty stomach, and nicotine with an ounce of adrenaline. You stupid bitch, just wait to throw up when you get to your room, she cursed to herself as she began walking towards the front door, Simon following closely behind, chuckling at her behavior. "I'm sorry, Simon. I just have a headache. I drank too much." 

"You're not telling me anything new," He smirked. "I'm sure it took the edge off. Now you can sleep it off." 

"Aye, Captain." 

"Lieutenant." He corrected. 

"Right, sorry. I guess you're still in military mode." 

"I never come out of it, Officer." He replied, knowing she didn't like to be acknowledged as an officer unless she was on duty, just like he didn't like to be called anything other than Lieutenant when it came to titles. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, pulling out her keys from her purse to unlock the front door, snickering as she felt along the wall for the lightswitch as the faint blue light from her vape pen engaging with another puff gave her enough light to see where she was putting her hand. "Okay, I'm going to bed." 

"I was hoping you would," He shook his head. "Do you need anything?" 

"A million fuckin' bucks and another vape." 

"Give me that," He said, watching her take another drag from it. "That's the fifth time in two minutes you've taken a drag off of that bloody thing. Give it a rest." 

"You referred to it as a pacifier," She scoffed, frowning as he took it from her grasp. "I need it."

"What you need is to go to bed. Sleep off all that liquor that you clearly can't take." He poked, loving her reaction. 

"I beg your damn pardon?" 

"You heard that, didn't you?" 

"Loud and fucking clear, Lieutenant. I can handle my liquor." 

"Yeah, it shows." He scoffed. 

"I can't with you." 

"No, you can't, that's why you're going to bed." 

"Oh, I can, I'll go get more right now if it means proving a point." 

"I'll pour it out." 

"You wouldn't dare." 

Simon raised his brows. He didn't know where she kept the whiskey, but he knew he could easily toy with her in this state. And he was taking advantage of it. He liked winding her up. It was a release for him as he couldn't recall thinking about anything military-wise while poking at her. "You clearly don't know me, then." 

"And you clearly don't know me." 

"You're right, I don't, but what I do know is that you can't handle your liquor."

She scoffed, "Such a jackass." 

"You're going to take the biscuit, love." 

"Who the fuck started talking about biscuits?" She furrowed her brows and opened her arms. 

"It means you're starting to push your luck, darling." 

"Well, now I'm hungry for biscuits." 

"Go to bed," He breathed a laugh. "I'll go get you a water." 

"Aren't you a gentleman." 

"Don't get used to it." He poked, although he was lying. 

He watched her walk towards her bedroom, leaving the door open as she set down her purse before turning the corner that led to her bathroom. He searched the kitchen for a bottle of water, finding one in the fridge before hearing gagging sounds. Bloody fucking hell. 

He walked into her bedroom, which was definitely uncharted territory for him, but he didn't care. She sat on the wood floor of her bathroom, hunched over the toilet as the night's activities took their toll on her. "Least you waited until you got home." He commented. 

"Yeah, I'm just trained to throw up on command." She scoffed, fighting the urge to throw up again. The smell was sour and mostly liquid - looking more like stomach bile. 

"Rough combination, love, but I'll have to give it to you - you took it like a bloke."

"Simon, speak fucking English." She sighed. 

He chuckled. 

"Sorry, let me translate for you: you took it like a champ. That better?" He poked, reaching over her to the cabinet that housed the washcloths and wetting it in the sink. 

"No, because I hate feeling like this." 

"Then don't try to have a drink-off with some stranger at a bar with whiskey. It'll fuck you up every time." He replied, stepping over her ankles to the other side where the bathtub was. 

"If anyone took it like a champ, it's you. You haven't shown one sign of being drunk." 

"Because I know when to stop myself." He replied, making the move to pull her hair behind her shoulders, holding it for her before she regurgitated again. 

"You don't have to be here at my whim. It's my fault. I don't want you to see me like this-"

"Let it all out. You'll feel better." He said, ignoring her statement. He wanted to be there. 

She relaxed after the next round of unmerciful bile, sitting down completely on the floor as she reached up to flush the empty remains of her stomach. Simon sat on the edge of the bathtub as he watched her skin flush to white. He handed her the washcloth, watching her press it against her forehead. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it. Here," He said, picking up the water bottle from the floor. "Don't drink it too fast or you'll be here all night." 

"Thanks for the tip." 

He breathed a chuckle, keeping his gaze on her as she looked to be searching for something. "What're you looking for?" 

"My nic-stick." 

"The fuck is that?" 

"My alternative to a Ciggie." She retorted, using his British slang on him by saying the term in a British accent. 

He patted the pocket on his jacket, "I don't think so. You're cut off." 

She scoffed, "It's mine. I paid for it." 

"You sure are paying the price for it right now, huh?" 

"God, I can't stand you." 

"You can't. That's why you're sitting." He poked. 

"Simon, I swear to God, if you don't shut up, I'll hit you right where it hurts." She warned, shaking her head as she noticed he sat with his knees apart as it was a comfortable position for him. 

"Big words," He mocked, standing to his feet and offering his hand to her. She hesitated before grabbing it. "Let's go to bed." 

She tilted her head, "Wait, are-are you insinuating on going to bed with...me?" 

"I meant it as in getting you to bed." He corrected, even though he said it comfortably as he truly wanted to go to bed with her. He longed for it. 

"Oh, well, I mean, if you wanted to, I got a nice King-sized bed in there..." She trailed off in a goofy tone, looking around playfully as if she were asking, but not asking directly. 

"I'll keep you up." He replied, not giving her a direct answer, hoping his warning of keeping her awake was enough. 

"I doubt that. I sleep like a rock." 

"Rocks don't sleep?" 

"It's a metaphor, Simon. Christ." 

"You still didn't answer my question." She cocked her head at him. 

"I don't know. I- you'll be awake all night." 

"Yes or no, Simon. Thought you were simpler than that." 

Take your fucking shot, Simon. Take it. Embrace her and protect her from her dreams. All you'll be doing is sleeping. There's no harm in that.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" 

A brief pause. 

"Yes." 

"I'll meet you there." He said, ensuring she made it back into the bedroom before he did, watching her sit on the bed as he walked by, the smell of his cologne lingering in the room. It was a welcoming scent for her, which enticed her further. She grabbed a change of clothing from her jeans to her cuffed pajama pants and a loose t-shirt that once belonged to her father after brushing her teeth from the rancid and acidic aftertaste of her stomach bile. Looking at herself in the mirror, she used her reflection to pull her hair up into a messy bun before entering her bedroom, plugging her phone in on the table before putting herself under the comforter, growing more and more nervous as she heard Simon's footsteps approaching, the wood floor creaking under his weight. 

She played on her phone, the TikTok app being her kryptonite as it distracted her from her racing adrenaline. She giggled at one of the many funny videos, watching Simon walk around the bed and sit on the edge. "Now you're hyper." He commented. 

"No. I feel better, though, but my head hurts. Now's the time to hand me back my nic-stick."

"Not a chance. You're cut off."

She rolled her eyes playfully before setting her phone aside and turning off the lamp, leaving the two in complete darkness. "Good-damn-night." 

She felt the bed rumble from his chuckle lodged in his throat. She loved it when he opened up to her like this by poking and prodding and he loved getting a reaction out of her, knowing that she wasn't taking him seriously through his demeanor. 

He lay as stiff as a board on the bed. One arm was behind his head and the other draped over his stomach as he had brought the iPod along with him, knowing he wouldn't be getting any sleep due to his nervousness around her. He shuffled her playlist, Living on the Sand by Colter Wall playing through the headphones he had found in the drawer of his loaned room. He looked up at the ceiling, listening to each lyric as he imagined the song was about him. 

"Keep that gun locked away, locked away, boy; Well, you know you're an angry young man; Going in town with six rounds you're sure to be Hell-bound; That house you've got is built on the sand..." 

He then began to wonder where Kiera's mind would go when she listened to this type of music. Wondering how her energy matched with the genre. Perhaps it was the heavy strums of Colter's guitar, or Tyler Childers' raspy Appalachian voice, or Whiskey Myers' guttural lyrics - he liked it all, but it all held a darkness to it that held a lot of meaning and emotion. 

As the song ended, he kept his gaze on the rotating ceiling fan as a soft strum of a guitar played on the next song - Everlasting Lover by 49 Winchester began playing. He hadn't heard the song before, but he certainly was going to listen to it. 

It enticed him as much as she did. 

"Everlasting lover; Oh, how I owe you my gratitude; You were the first to make me feel like I ain't just some dude; Everlasting lover, baby, you've got the kindest eyes; And when mine are red and I look half dead you can't even realize; When I get stoned and feel rejected; weary from the road and half beaten down; you come off of your throne and I feel protected; Oh, and even from the bottom of the bottle I know you won't let me drown." 

[jacksothereye]

OC Interview Questions

So @kemendin​  tagged me for this and I’m doin’ it. Real talk I don’t know lot of tumblr people but I’m taggin’ @biiigwinged and @chibikinesis and @a-pirate and @yourblues and @smilepal and @some27-url just because I like lookin at your blogs/characters. Feel free to tag me back if you wind up doin’ it!  I was torn on whether to go Cyberpunk or Fallout for this but Bastard Classic won out so here we go!

----

Name?  Muds. Yes. Really. 

Are you single?  And happy for it. Something something that song ain’t so very far from wrong or however it goes. 

Are you happy?  I have my moments. 

Are you angry? Every damn day. 

Are your parents still married? Sorry, I don’t believe in parents.  

=NINE FACTS=

Birth place? Boston. Technically. I guess. 

Hair color? Uh. Dark. 

Eye color? Also dark. Look it’s not like I lie awake staring into them lovingly or anything. 

Birthday? Why, you gonna buy me a drink?

Mood? Gently violent. You know. Just. Gently. Softly. Benignly violent. Sit back down, you’re fine. 

Gender? Shit which one do you mean by that? It’s the one where I have a dick and I’m totally good with it. 

Summer or winter? If I gotta hide a body? Summer. If I gotta do anything else… eh, fuck it, also Summer. I like the heat. 

Morning or afternoon? *Are* we talkin’ about hiding bodies? I feel like we’re not talkin’ about hiding bodies. Because if we’re hiding bodies, really you wanna do that shit at *night*, or at least early early morning, but - that wasn’t the question. What was the question? I’m takin’ the fifth. 

=EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE=

Are you in love? Don’t be stupid.

Do you believe in love at first sight? I believe in bad decisions. 

Who ended your last relationship? God. He said it was personal. 

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? I mean it’s on them if they were that invested. 

Are you afraid of commitments? Afraid? No. Avoidant? ...Sure. 

Have you hugged someone within the last week? Oooooh pfshhhh nnnnooo. Actually I just hit 1,000 days hug free and I’m really trying to stay on the wagon this time. 

Have you ever had a secret admirer? Maybe, but the problem is I tend to shoot first and ask questions later.

Have you ever broken your own heart? I mean it’s on me if I was that invested. 

=SIX CHOICES=

Love or lust? Oh, well Lust is one of those big sins - you can’t really beat out on that. 

Lemonade or iced tea? Mix em together for science. 

Cats or dogs? Both useless. Unless it’s my dog. My dog’s better than those other dogs. 

A few best friends or many regular friends?  Many, many unapologetic criminals. 

Wild night out or romantic night in? Darlin’ if it ain’t wild either way what’s even the point?  

Day or night?  Depends on what I’m doin’ - don’t make me bring up the body thing again. 

=FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS=

Been caught sneaking out? Four. Times. And let me tell you how much that cost me. 

Fallen down/up the stairs? Definitely up, that’s how you know the Daytripper’s workin’. 

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? Does ‘wanting something so badly I hurt someone’ count? 

Wanted to disappear? Please, if I’m doing my job right, you’ll never see me comin’ to begin with. 

=FOUR PREFERENCES=

Smile or eyes? Oh always the eyes, that’s the big tell - people who can’t lie for shit? Look at their eyes. It’ll give it away every time. 

Shorter or taller?  Short of a super mutant I don’t see anyone bein’ taller than me. Hold it, what are we even talking about here?

Intelligence or attraction? Well, nine times outta ten being attractive isn’t gonna save your ass so I’d rather whoever this is not be an idiot. 

Hook-up or relationship? Whichever one doesn’t get me shot the next morning.  

=FAMILY=

Do you and your family get along? Sure but I think it helps that we do a lot of drinking and none of us are related.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”? No I’d say it’s pretty standard fuckin’ fare for the Commonwealth. 

Have you ever run away from home? Ohhh - ohohoh yeah. Yeah. Trust me. I’m the fuckin’ *best* at runnin’ away from home. 

Have you ever gotten kicked out? I kicked myself out, it was better that way. 

=FRIENDS=

Do you secretly hate one of your friends? I mean I hate all of them a little bit. I actually hate *everyone* a little bit. I feel like if I didn’t that’d probably be a sign that there’s something wrong with them. 

Do you consider all of your friends good friends?  No I consider all of them right bastards. 

Who is your best friend?  The rightest bastard of them all. See, he was like, best-friend-orphaned back in the day, so I adopted him as my best friend, cleaned him up, made him less sad and pathetic. It took a *lottttta* work teaching him how to re-socialize, but I think we’re makin’ real progress. I can almost go out in public with him and everything. 

Who knows everything about you? Fella. if I thought anyone was even gettin’ close, they’d be dead. That in mind, I’d watch how many more questions you ask. 

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

My first thoughts on Bendy and the Dark Revival

Bendy and the Dark Revival is in a way, everything I wanted from the first game. It delivers and improves on what bothered me about the first. It is in a sense, the Bendy game I wanted with some surprises.

Because HOLY SHIT. And I am only on chapter four.

I stopped there and...the funny thing is...when I got on chapter three, I didn’t even realize it. I was playing this game for 3.5 hours ago...I haven’t even completed the game. But oh my God, I love it. I fuckin love it. 

A weird comparison or the difference between the original game and this one.

The first game is how I would strangely describe it. A fun little survival horror game. But it at times feels a bit simple. But I understand that it was a game released episodically. I want to compare the game to horror games you would see on something like fifth and sixth generation consoles. Which sounds really weird because things like earlier Resident Evil games were more complex. And I really shouldn’t compare the game to something like those.

While Bendy and the Ink Machine was a nice start. Bendy and the Dark Revival is basically like even more of a legit survival horror game. Especially in modern time like...seventh and eighth generation horror games. There’s so much improvement and maybe I’m overreacting. But holy crap...I was just in the experience. I’m so grateful this game is a full release.

I am not going to spoil anything, but holy crap. I don’t even know how many chapters there are this time. I’m hoping to God it’s not five chapters because I’m in awe of this game. There’s a huge difference between this and the first. This isn’t just an amazing sequel. It’s a downright successor.

Down below are some screenshots I took. Only three and again, nothing hugely spoilerish.

-

Other things that happened during my first playthrough...I only died four times. The first was a stupid mistake when I tried to use a new ability of mine and fell down a gap. The second was by the Ink Demon (Who I question is maybe worse or so this time around and I mean that in a scary way. Not the way he plays), the third was by some...crawling things you’ll see...they’re like spiders. And the fourth was by the Ink Demon when I thought I was safe.

Dude, I’m so happy, and like...I genuinely like the first game and Boris and the Dark Survival. The wait was worth it after all these years, I shit you not.

I only took three screenshots. Nothing hugely spoilerish. But some stuff I like.

A new logo.

The menu.

The visuals holy crap, even from just the menu and continuing on. This here isn’t huge or anything. But it hints at certain stuff or so.

Edit update I forgot to mention one thing. There’s a certain “Fourth member” I really hate because holy shit. The number of times she scared me just God damn. I hate her because of that. 

[wontgodowninhistory]

                    ❛   oh   ,   he’ll   have   no   fuckin’   clue .     and   ,   he   won’t   be   able   t’   call   back   either .   ❜    she   states   with   confidence   as   she   opens   a   window   and   lights   a   cigarette .     the   nifty   little   code   she’d   punched   in   before   the   number   made   sure   of   that .     the   truth   of   the   matter   is   that   jamie   actually   doesn’t   like   the   boy   they’ve   just   prank   called   at   all .     she’d   wanted   to   be   a   menace   ,   as   per   usual    ―    wanted   to   piss   him   off .     she   hopes   that   she   succeeded   and   ,   while   she   isn’t   a   fly   on   the   wall   for   his   reaction   ,   she   hopes   he’s   red   in   the   face   and   annoyed   as   all   hell .     giggling   ,   she   shakes   her   head   in   the   negative   to   robin’s   question   and   waves   a   hand   dismissively   as   if   to   say   ‘nah’   as   she   gives   her   dark   eyes   a   playful   roll   ,    ❛   oh   ,   please   ,   i   hate   his   fuckin’   guts .   ❜    states   the   middle   byers   sibling   with   a   smile   as   she   bumps   her   shoulder   against   robin’s .     she   wants   to   say   that   robin   shouldn’t   worry   ,   that   there’s   nothing   to   worry   about .     but   ,   she   isn’t   ready   to   let   her   own   crush   be   known   yet .     it   kind   of   makes   her   sad   ,   in   all   honesty   ,   but   that’s   a   feeling   for   another   time .     jamie   doesn’t   want   to   focus   on   that   when   she’s   here   ,   spending   time   with   robin .

🌈 : @araneorum

it was a good thing that the boy couldn’t call back. if there was even a chance that he could and did, rule abider buckley would come out and she'd lose any of the very little chill she did have. she'd absolutely crack. prank calling was probably illegal on some level and rather than letting jamie get in trouble, she’d just blurt out that it was her fault and that she was so so sorry. there would definitely be some tears in there as well. the added measure of protection with those few dialed numbers was enough to pacify her fears. even if it was coming from jamie byers. she should be more skeptical but since the phone didn’t ring back she was sure that she hadn’t been led astray. still, robin didn’t want to prank call him anymore - she’d surely shut that down if it was even suggested. that would be illegal and bordering on harassment. robin was not up for breaking a law on that level. a minor infraction was already more than enough for her. robin hated that boy already and she inwardly hoped it ruined his day. she disliked him even more now that she thought there was a chance that jamie liked him! “i hate him too. he told everyone that i’m a drunk like my father and that they should give me a breathalyzer just for riding my bike.” she shot out in relief. needless to say, kenny rudney - what a stupid last name - sucked. “no one ever talks about the time he peed his pants on that class trip in fifth grade anymore now that he’s a star on the stupid football team.” she could never outlive the reputation her father created for her. yet, oh how easily things like pissing one's pants on a field trip could be dismissed in the name of a stupid winning sports team. “football sucks and so does he.” robin watched jamie light up a cigarette. how was she even beautiful doing such a vile thing like smoking? it wasn’t fair and it just made robin’s crush on her that much stronger. she wrinkled her nose as she always did when a cigarette was lit up around her but then she found herself looking at the middle byers girl in an almost dreamy way.