#fuck put them into an empty bottle or some shit wtf are you doing just tossing it onto the ground i hate smokers so much

[femmesandhoney]

it should not only be punishable if they don't, but completely expected for any and all smokers to go outside when they smoke. idc if it's your house and you think the garage is "close enough" get the fuck outside and stop making the garage now just reek of smoke yall fucking suck lmao. smokers can freeze in a blizzard if they want to smoke that bad.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 ~

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; hyunjin x fem!reader, SMUT!! childhood!bestfriends, in vino veritas, sex under influence, summer!au, uni!au, drunken confession, (not really) mutual pining, explicit language, piv, unprotected sex (once again, a bad example! don’t forget the raincap in the storm), riding, kinda vanilla sex, uuuh,,, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), cum, muffled moaning? (that is not the correct term but lets go with that)

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 2.8 k 

𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 ; ye ye thank u anon!! <3

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦 ; lmao i know he has dark hair in the picture but just imagine that he’s blonde aight also damnit wtf happened to that edge of the header picture aaah,,, im no editor u guys- also once again, the fucking title has nothing to do with the story, i just felt like it

holy shit now i understand why i dont write vanilla sex or like slow stuff,,, because it pains me with cringe- or maybe i get flustered,,, 

29. “Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes” ; The 1975 - If you’re too shy (Let me know)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

Hwang Hyunjin.

You liked him in every type of way. You even liked the way his name rolled of your tongue like some kind of sweet mantra. You would have confessed if only he wasn’t your childhood best friend. 

“y/n! ready to parteeey?” he yelled across the crosswalk, holding up a slightly dirty tan canvas bag, the bottles of cold liquor clinking against each other as he moved, the green man lighting up on the red stoplight. His high platform sneakers moved swiftly against the white striped concrete, making his way over to you and stretching out his arms, catching you in an embrace when he finally crossed the road.

“i see you brought drinks even if it’s only a casual sleepover” you chuckled, patting him on the back as you pulled away, walking towards the direction of your house in the scorching summer evening. 

“of course, who said you couldn’t have a party with two people?” he answered back, slightly embarrassed by the way the bottles hit each other, causing other pedistrians to turn their heads. You shrugged your shoulders, looking at him as you walked closeby his side, admiring his profile and the way his blonde long locks were pushed behinds his ears, exposing his cute studded earrings. He turned his head, gazing at you to which you quickly diverted your eyes towards the ground below your feet, hearing Hyunjin giggle from your antics. 

“how’s your mom? she doing good?” he asked after walking a couple of meters, holding the bag in one hand and his phone in the other one. 

“yeah! but why do you ask? you literally messaged her yesterday” you smiled to which Hyunjin hummed, pouting and shrugging. 

“because she’s like my best friend,,, duh?” he chuckled, poking you playfully at the side of your tummy causing you to flinch away, you being rather ticklish. 

“hey! you can’t just make my mom your bestie, tsk,, stealing away my mom like that” you said, laughing in between words and noticing that the two of you were soon standing infront of your house door, the kitchen and living room window radiating warm yellow light and a silhouette moving behind the dark curtains. You retreived the keys that were in the pockets of your shorts, something you threw on quickly to go meet Hyunjin even though he knew the way to your house. It was just an excuse to be with him a bit longer. 

You put the keys in the lock, jumbling around as Hyunjin looked at you with glossy dark brown eyes, holding the bag with two hands in front of his knees. The door opened and the light shined on you, illuminating the front yard that was getting dark as the sun was setting. The two of you stepped in, removing your shoes and hearing Hyunjin place the bag down on the cold tile flooring moments before your mother walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. 

“Oh hello Hyunjin! How’s school?” She asked, placing 3 pieces of popcorn in her mouth and chewing, her jaw moving from side to side. 

“Uni is going great, stressful but y/n helps me,,, kinda” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head and looking down at the ground, you playfully hitting him on his upper arm. Your mom smiled at the two of you.

“Don’t stay up too late!” she yelled as she made her way to the living room where your dad was lounging on the sofa with a cold beer in his hands, watching a game of football. 

“We won’t mom!” you yelled back, grabbing Hyunjin’s bag and waving your hand, signaling for him to follow you to your bedroom. He tiptoed carefully, not wanting to knock something down even though he’s slept over at yours well over a thousand times since your early childhood but still, it was in Hyunjin’s nature to be gentle and timid at first glance, another reason as to why you liked him so much. 

Your bedroom was nothing out of the ordinary. White walls filled with various trinkets, family photos decorating them. Your bed was big enough to fit two but you had a sleeping bag in the corner of the room from just how often Hyunjin would crash at your place. There was not much more besides a cluttered desk, your single bed and a carpet along with a white drawer and a mirror. You plopped down on the bed, feeling the soft material against your exposed calfs. Hyunjin knew what to do, grabbing and unfolding the sleeping bag before emptying the contents of his beige bag, multiple bottles of beer and cider along with a small bottle of pure vodka.

“Why the fuck did you bring vodka? You know my parents are gonna kill me if they find this in my room” you sneered, rolling your eyes at the boy that was sitting on the bedroom floor, mischievously looking up at you. 

“y/n you’re in uni, what are they gonna do? ground you?” you shook your head. 

“Yeah? or kick me out of the house” you persisted, tilting your head as Hyunjin looked around the room in search for a bottle opener. 

“Says the girl that puked behind a slide” he laughed to which you kicked him, causing him to fall over and you getting the final laugh. 

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks and a bottle opener since you’re too weak to open them” you tsked, heading towards the door and turning the doorknob.

“ppft,,, too weak” you heard Hyunjin complain as you exited the room, small steps making their way to the kitchen. You flipped the light switch, the grey lamp hanging from the ceiling, you witnessing the messy dishes from dinner earlier. You opened the dark brown cabinet where you usually stored your snacks, grabbing two packets of crisps and rummaging through the smaller cabinet that was home for the multitude of kitchen supplies your dad and mom like to collect. You found one, decorated with some picture of a sea, probably from one of dads business trips you thought, closing the cabinets and turning off the light, stepping back to your bedroom. 

“Here” you said, throwing the metal opener towards the blonde boy that was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, lying sprawled out on the carpet. Hyunjin dramatically clutched his stomach, acting as if he’s been hit with a boulder to which you scoffed, sitting down next to him on the floor and opening the first bag of crisps and being once again disappointed by the air to chip ratio. 

Hyunjin opened two bottles of beer, handing one over to you which you happily received, putting the slightly cold edge against your hot lips and drinking the bitter liquid, feeling it burn a bit in your throat but soothe it in this summers heat. Your face contorted into disgust, looking on the rather dodgy blue lable that was peeling a bit on the edges. You looked over to Hyunjin that was making a similar expression to yours, his nose sqrunching in that cute manner it always did. 

“aren’t we both like,,, too easily influenced?” he said quietly as you stood up, retrieving your computer to put on a movie. You nodded, giggling when you sat back down and placed the computer on the floor, typing something on your computer and pointing towards the screen.

“this one or,,,, this one?” you said to which Hyunjin pointed at the latter, knowing he would pick the animated movie, him being childish as he is. 

An hour passed and at this point the two of you were tipsy, multiple bottles making their presence known by standing beside you, all emptied to the last drop. The alcohol was flushing Hyunjin’s cheeks, tinging them with a light red along with the tips of his ears, your hearts thumping from how dangerously close his hand was to yours. You were starting to get tired, probably drowsy from the alcohol you thought as you layed down to which Hyunjin reacted, patting his lap.

“Put your head here, why put it on the floor?” he chuckled, his words slurring slightly. You froze, comtemplating on whether or not you should do it or if your heart could even manage being in contact with him. You cleared your throat, trying to get back to your senses. He was your childhood best friend for fuck sake. Shyly you put your head on his thigh, still watching the movie and trying to focus on what was happening on the screen but being completely lost in your own lewd thoughts, wondering how his soft lips would feel brushing up against yours, ctaching you in a hasty kiss. You sighed as the end credits rolled, seeing Hyunjin’s angular face reflecting on the screen and his gaze catching yours on the reflective monitor. Both of you burst out in laughter, the substances intoxicaing you into a laughing fit. You sat up again, pushing him by the shoulder and causing him to fall over with his arms stretched out to the sides, you falling closely to him and using his forearm as a headrest. 

“y/n, have you ever liked me?”

You gulped. Was it that apparent? You shook your head, mumbling a quiet “no” to which Hyunjin giggled, his chest heaving up and down. He messed with his blonde hair, pushing it back and furrowing his eyesbrows before relaxing his facial features, closing his eyes softly.

“i like you but maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes”

You choked on your own spit, sitting up and patting yourself on the chest. It was unlike Hyunjin to speak this bluntly, especially about such suggesstive topics. He laughed at your reaction, acting as if he hadn’t just made you choke with only his words. After the initial shock set in you decided to play smart, if he was being oblivious so would you. You looked back at the blonde boy that still had his eyes closed, smirking and with a tone interlaced with pure erotic connotations you said;

“yeah? and if I did take off my clothes, what would you do?” you giggled back at him, feeling a warm flash of heat zap through your body and ultimately landing in your dripping core. Hyunjin’s eyes sprung open, the corners of his mouth curling upwards into a exuberant smirk. A million thoughts ran through Hyunjin’s mind. Should he continue the little game he had started or end it all now in order to save your friendship? But maybe ruining your friendship was exactly what he needed or more like what you needed.

The tall boy sat up, pulling you by your wrist and quickly pursing his cherry red lips, clashing them against the surface of your gently chapped pout. You thought you melted right then and there, taking in the scent of the boy you never invisioned yourself kissing but here you were, your lips pressed up against his. He grabbed your hand, encasing yours in his and feeling the warmth radiating from your nervous state. With a slight tilt of the head, Hyunjin could reach deeper inside your mouth, tracing his tongue over yours and pursing his lips causing a smooching sound to escape. Your felt his hot breath stroking your heated cheek, sending shivers down your spine. 

“a-are you ok, y/n? I’m s-sorry!” he said, pulling away and hiccuping after finishing his sentence. You shook your head, giggling which caught Hyunjin by surprise. You were ecstatic. 

“please kiss me Hyunjin, i’ve been wanting you so bad” you mumbled, Hyunjin’s jaw clenching in confusion. 

“me? i want you!” he said, laughing at your seriousness causing you to crack a smile, pushing him down on the floor and slamming the computer shut, the background track of the movie disappering. Now only the sound of the loud TV downstairs was heard along with your lips pecking Hyunjin’s. You hovered above the boy, your hands on either side of him. You felt your wet cunt aching for him, you wanted him inside of you and it seemed like you weren’t the only excited one, Hyunjin’s bulge growing bigger with every caress of his body. Your hands snaked down to the zipper of his ripped jeans, with a steady hand unzipping and unbuttoning, wanting to free him from his clothed prison that was keeping you from him. 

“Eager or something?” Hyunjin tsked, trailing kisses along your jawline and neck. You didn’t answer his stupid question. Of course you were eager, this was what you had dreamed of for years. This was what played out in every single wet dream you ever had. This was what occupied your mind when nothing else mattered. It was him. Hwang Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin bucked his hips upwards, granting you the honor to pull down his pants and boxers in a brisk motion which you happily took. His cock sprung free, leaking with precum embarrassingly enough causing you to snicker. Could the sight of his best friend make him this horny? You quickly moved aside from Hyunjin’s figure in order to free yourself from your shorts and white lace panties. The blonde boy was in a dilemma. He liked you,,, a lot, but you were his best friend. Was it worth risking a friendship for sex and maybe even something else?

Your answer was yes. Yes if it was Hyunjin. 

You straddled Hyunjin’s thigh, balancing on your knees and placing your hands firmly on his hard abdomen, positioning your hungry hole above his dick, the slit being decorated with a shining pearl of precum. Hyunjin’s eyes were closed in anticipation, his hands trying to grab onto the carpet on the floor, clawing at the material.

“you good? ready?” you asked in worry, thinking maybe he was uncomfortable. 

Hyunjin shook his head in agreement. He was nervous. If he opened his eyes he could cum by just the lewd sight of your pussy about to swallow his dick whole. He was adorable being this shy, always acting innocent but not really living up to that standard, at least not in this moment. You slowly sink down on his erect cock, Hyunjin letting out a hiss at the same time you gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth in order to not be too loud. The boy was stretching you out to the brink of completion, it was impossible to bottom out from the sheer size of his throbbing cock. Hyunjin turned his head side to side, his cheek coming in contact with the cold floor. He looked in pain, his forehead furrowing but he reassured you that it felt good, maybe even too good. Your gently bounced up and down his cock, with each thrust earning another groan from the panting boy. Seeing him lost in pleasure made your core burn with arousal, needing to chase your impending orgasm. The boy slowly opened his eyes, peeking at you rocking backwards and forwards on his cock, biting your lip and tracing your hands along his abdomen underneath his shirt. 

“d-does it feel good?” he asked in a dazed voice, striking a half smile as he moved his hands to your waist, simply resting them there. You nodded, lulling your head backwards, your tits bouncing underneath the fabric of your oversized t-shirt, hardened nipples poking through. Hyunjin drooled at the sight and the sensations. He had longed for this just as much as you had. Hyunjin’s hands trailed up your shirt, wrapping his hands around your boobs and harshly kneading them, the pads of his thumb gliding over your nipples. You shuddered, clenching around his cock, Hyunjin’s eyes shut tightly and his toes curling from the sensation of balancing on a pinnacle, tumbling into his orgasm. He couldn’t control his words, whispering your name out like a mantra along with the words “i love you”. Those were words you didn’t hear him say often. 

The feeling of his hot cum oozing between your velvety walls got you holding onto Hyunjin’s shirt for life, his hand gently placed over your parted lips that continusly spilled with whimpers and pleas. You looked at Hyunjin with lost eyes, your pace slowling down as you rode out your orgasm, thighs shaking involuntarily, giving up beneath you. Hyunjin lifted slightly by your hips, you pulling off him and with a thud rolled over on your back, laying next to him on the floor. The room filled with heavy breathing, sweaty bodies trying to find composure after the rather interesting orgasm. All your thoughts were in once big mush, hindering you from forming a sentence. 

“What now?” Hyunjin said in a sleepy manner, rolling over to his side and hugging you awkwardly. You didn’t know. All you knew that you wanted him. You were hoping he would become yours. More than once. 

[gaiuswrites]

Yoga!Din my beloved is that you? 😳 Lils, how in the ever loving fuck did I not see this??! God this just has ride me vibes written all over it—except he’s such a power bottom— stubborn as a fucking mule with pride to spare—he’d still do all the work.

For the record idk wtf this is. I wrote it on the mobile app. Idk. but pls have a yoga!Din drabble:

Just imagine, him sitting with his legs spread— relaxed, casual— back leaning against some dingy wall at some party neither of them were too keen on attending—

“But it’s Marissa’s thirty-fifth, baby— we have to go.”

“Wasn’t she thirty-five last year?”

“Yeah, well,” she did her best to hide the compromising smirk twisting her mouth awry, “best to keep that to yourself.”

Din snorted— a mirthed huff followed by a resolved sigh, resigned happily to his allotted fate.

Anything for his girl.

The party is a fucking bust. 

Pop music he doesn’t recognize pumps through the speakers, the occasional Queen or Rolling Stones single taking him aback every few songs. A dwindling fruit-ripe bowl of sangria, ladle floating lazy in the burgundied liquid, is stationed at the head of a table like a highly sought after guest, proudly put on display to ooh and ahh and fawn over. Marissa is a fucking vegan and the food is shit - “they’re not hot dogs, they’re not dogs!” - and Din has been nursing his second stale drink for the better part of the evening.

Anything for his girl.

Strangers mill around the backyard garden in tittering clumps and Din has neither the interest nor the energy to fake his way through stumbled conversation. He watches people’s profiles, how they curve and splinter gleefully, liquor loosening their lips. Bringing his beer to his own, he spies her across the way, weaving in and out of various groups, and his gaze trails along after her, sparkling and bright as she bounces to and fro.

As if she can feel the weight of his attention, like the ghost of a hand on her lower back, she glances towards him, offering a toothy grin that quirks up a corner of her cheek. Din’s mouth twitches, deviance streaking through the umber of his eye— a look she can spot even here in the dark, with nothing but moonglow and a strand of outdoor edison bulbs to lighten his harrowed features— and with his free hand, he taps the plat of his thigh twice. 

Come here.

She cocks her brow— because he’s being reckless and hungry and like a water-logged cloth, they’ve always wrung the blackest of depravity out of each other—and she can sense something infernal rile in her cunt like a storm brewing and churning and before she has the wherewithal to process the ramifications of her actions, she’s striding her willlowed legs over to where Din lounges, each footfall echoing like cardinal sin against high slung church rafters.

She hovers over him. He sips from his beer, finishing it.

“Not enjoying yourself?” she drawls, hair cascading in waterfalled sheets as she peers down at him.

Din sets his empty bottle aside, the glass clinking dully against the cement, before hooking two fingers into the waist of her jeans and dragging her closer. She’s nestled between the spread of his knees, brushing against the growing bulge that’s slowly draining the blood from his brain and redirecting it southbound to thrum at his center.

“Not really, no,” he murmurs, sweeping his tongue over his lush lip.

“Hmm,” she purrs, bending at the waist to pitch herself nearer, breath mingling as the distance between them siphons to negligence, to atoms. “What a pity.”

She seals her mouth over his, tasting the alcohol and boredom and heady lust lingering heavy on his tongue, and she swallows the moan he warbles free when she nips at him, tugging at his lip between her teeth. They’re handsy and teenaged and suddenly desperate and there’s a small prudent vestige of her mind that considers perhaps we shouldn’t do this here, but the concern is quickly snuffed out as Din grapples with her hips, squeezing and kneading and molten all over.

“M’gonna fuck you,” Din growls, between bites and wet kisses—voice sinewy and debauched and drenched with untamed want—his large hands pawing her ass by the fistful. “M’gonna fuck you so fucking hard when we get home, baby— Christ.”

She breaks away, breathless and aching, and bores into him—pupils blown wide, eclipsing the color there—  and says, simply, “then let’s go home.”

In an uncharacteristic show of confusion, Din can’t suppress the look of surprise that splashes over his expression, a question ticking lines into his forehead. “But I thought—”

“Oh screw it,” she heaves, pulling Din up hastily by the collar of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. “She’s been thirty-five before. She’ll live.”

/

tagging some yogis hehe (sorry it’s been a while) (i suck hehe)

@uncle-kenobi @helmet-comes-off @javierpcna @javier-pena @pedros-mustache @djarinsbeskar @radiowallet @magpie-to-the-morning @krissology @chasingdreamer

[undermattsun-archive]

mouth

(skate rat) kunimi x reader | word count: 1.8k

a/n: i said i was writing a drabble, a simple short slice,, wtf happened?? anyway ty @bakatenshii​ for putting up w my spam about this <3

18+ university age | pls read all warnings

warnings: drug use (weed), bad words, bad (slightly toxic) behavior, toxic relationships, a bit of blood

now with its sequels taste + savor

Oikawa’s parties were never really your scene, considering the amount of greasy touch-starved skaters that were crawling around and all the bad decisions you’ve made with them in the past, you really should’ve tried your best to avoid any function thrown by him. But the promise of some mindless fun after a grueling week of finals made it worth swinging by, even for an hour or so.

You’re seated on the arm of the beat-up old couch near the front door, giving you the perfect seat to watch various people of differing sobriety fall in and out of the party.

Just as the desperate scene of Matsukawa coming on to the fourth girl of the night unfolds before you, there’s the familiar burn of eyes boring into you, acutely aware of who it might be. 

For a moment you wonder if standing your ground would be better, thwarted by your own body moving without a second thought and making a desperate attempt to avoid simple eye contact, you sacrifice your perch,  hoping to find someone that you didn’t have a complicated history with.

“Trying to run?” Cool fingers wrap around your wrist, forcing a groan to escape your lips. It was a mystery how someone who was high most of the time and never wanted to expend any energy could move that quickly across a room.

“Running implies I’m scared, avoiding would be the better term,” you try to pull away from his grip, only to have him tighten his hold forcing you to turn and glare into his hooded eyes, “what do you want?”

“A hello maybe, not nice to ignore me.” He relents his hold and you roll your eyes, he looks deceptively good tonight. You can’t help but take in his appearance, grimacing when you notice he’s wearing the oversized black Champion hoodie you’d given him for his birthday, when you were still on semi-decent terms.

“Yeah about that, I only say hi to people who don’t fuck me over.” You try to move away from him but he quickly crowds into your space, focusing a calculating look on you.

“Fuck you over how?” His expression shifts, he’s giving you that look, the one he gives whenever he has you pinned against a surface and taking everything he wants from you. 

The look he gives before you can’t help but surrender completely to him.

“Forget it, just leave me alone.” You try to look around him, trying to find a familiar face, someone you could cling onto to avoid this uncomfortable confrontation and your inevitable downfall right into his hands.

You shove at his chest and slip by him, deciding that leaving completely would be the best option, only to have hands grip at your waist and pull you back harshly. You land on the couch with a soft thump about to send another scathing comment his way when you notice him reaching behind the couch, pulling out a clear glass bong with a skull engraved on it.

The sight of it fills you with another wave of irritation and nostalgia, another present from you to him, another instance of you practically on your knees begging for his attention. You know this is your real cue to leave, that the second you start smoking with him you’ll truly be putty in his hands.

“Just one or two hits,” he hums, already sensing your hesitation, he pulls out a half empty plastic water bottle and a dime bag, “I'm sure you stressed yourself out this week.”

“Mm how considerate of you.” You shift slightly in your seat, positioning yourself better in case you decide to really escape this time.

“You look good.” It’s nonchalant and almost half-hearted but it still causes a slight tingle to run down your spine. You hate the way his feigned disinterest always has you wanting more, all the times he’s looked at you with rapt attention only to coat it with impassivity a moment later making you crave more and more of him. The imagery fills your head and makes your mouth dry. You push the thoughts away, you’re here to smoke some of his weed, and then leave nothing more.

“Don’t,” he looks up from his ministrations to raise a brow at you, “‘m not playing your games tonight.”

“Fine, you look like shit.'' He hands you the bong and you consider smashing it, but it’d only be a waste of your money and good weed.

“Lighter.” You touch the mouthpiece to your bottom lip and stare at him expectantly. He shakes his head and twirls the lighter in his fingers.

“Payment.” A smug look crosses his features and the temptation to throw the bong itches at your hands again.

“I hate you.” It’s under your breath and both of you know that despite how irritated you are with him, you don’t mean it in the slightest, you never do. You hook your finger onto the collar of his hoodie and tug him forward, slamming your lips together in a chaste kiss, the moment his lips part against yours has you pulling away.  

“Hm? That was too short and sweet for you,” you snort at the comment and try to take the lighter from him, he shakes his head and turns the bong so the bowl is facing him, “you’re just gonna fuck it up and hurt yourself let me.”

“Whatever.” You fix your lips properly, holding eye contact with him as he lights the bowl, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke crawl down your throat and invade your lungs. He grins at you as he pulls the bowl from it, letting you clear it out.

You hold the smoke for a moment, and just as you’re about to blow it out, Kunimi snatches the bong from you and sets it down by the couch, surging forward and capturing your lips. His hand flies up and squeezes at your cheeks as he licks into your mouth, forcing your jaw to drop. His other arm curls around your waist, not bothering to put up a fight as he maneuvers you onto his lap.

Your hands press against him and you finally exhale slowly into his mouth, feeling his chest swell slowly beneath your palms. There’s a pause in his movements, leaving you to think he’ll pull away, only for him to continue his greedy exploration with his villainous tongue. 

Though you’d never say it out loud, you’ve always been impressed by his lungs but the lack of oxygen begins to make your chest tighten and your head feel a little too light.

“Fuck wait.” You gasp, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. His hand drops from your face and slips under the hem of your shirt letting his fingers dance across the small of your back.

“For what?” He nips at your bottom lip, trying to get you to retaliate but you narrow your eyes at him.

“Apologize first.” You drive your index finger into his chest and he scoffs.

“I don't do that,” he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your neck, making you yelp out, you hiss as he pulls off and licks at the raw skin, “take me or leave me.”

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You tangle your fingers in his hair and yank harshly, pulling him into a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything. You feel his fingers continue to massage your back while his other hand runs up and down your thigh.

If you aren’t going to get an apology, you figure there’s other ways to get a bit of retribution. You dig your teeth into his bottom lip, grinning against him when you feel the taste of iron spread across your tongue. his hand on your thigh squeezes tightly making you gasp, only allowing him to delve his tongue further into your mouth, acting as though he has a right to it. 

“Bong.” He rasps as he pulls away from you, you take a moment to admire the crimson staining his lips. Reaching down you swipe up the bong, handing it to him and scooting back to avoid being burnt. Watching quietly as he fixes it against his mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag.

It was disgusting really, he always looked  good like this, the only thing rivaling this expression was that faintly proud look he got in his eyes whenever he landed a trick. He pulls the bong away and holds it to the side, looking up at you and tilting his head. 

“What?” You frown as you watch his eyes flicker to your mouth, his message loud and clear. with a sigh you inch forward, letting your lips part, you jump slightly when he surges forward to slot his mouth against yours. You inhale slowly as he exhales, reveling in the taste of the weed and his tongue moving across yours.

“You two sure know how to make it seem like you’re the only ones in the room,” you pull away once more, the two of you turning to look at Iwaizumi settling on the couch beside you, “just wanted to warn you that Mattsun is threatening to come join you two.”

“Tch like hell he is.” Kunimi pulls you closer against his body, only making you groan at the sudden wave of possessiveness.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” You really have no interest in letting Mattsun’s slimy fingers and dirty dick anywhere near you, but skipping out on the opportunity to piss Kunimi off, even just a little, would be a waste. you raise a brow as his head falls back against the couch, reddening eyes observing you lazily.

“You want me to be or something?” You ignore the snicker that falls from Iwaizumi beside you two and narrow your eyes at the man underneath you.

“So you can fuck off and forget i exist for another month again? Yeah right.” The flash of anger fades quickly when you start to feel the headiness that comes with your high swirl through you. 

“I'll make it up to you,” the statement punctuated with both of his hands sliding further up your shirt, “mouth.”

“Kunimi.”

“Mouth.” you swipe your tongue over your lips before relenting, letting your jaw drop and your tongue loll out a bit. He swipes his tongue against yours before sucking it into his mouth. He lets out a low groan as you grind down against him and throw your arms around his neck desperately trying to deepen the kiss.

“Don’t fuck down here again, Oikawa’s room should still be open, he keeps striking out anyway.” You kick your leg blindly, satisfied when you feel your foot make contact and hearing Iwaizumi letting out a curse. 

“Oikawa’s?” Kunimi mutters against your lip, and you hum in agreement, sliding off his lap and pulling him along with you. 

“I better not be able to walk tomorrow or I’m never talking to you again.”

[sleepysnk]

have fun ;)

Team Player: Chapter Nine

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive content

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Eren sat next to (Y/N) in the class they shared together. It was an early morning and the two both felt exhausted. The two planned overnight on what they were going to practice at the field, Eren had access since he was an athlete, but the two had to be quick. Campus security was strict on any students out past curfew. 

"So what time again?" Eren asked, looking over at her. 

Her eyes averted towards his. "I have class until 7, so I can go right after." she replied.

He nodded. "Sounds good.. come by my dorm and I'll give you a ball and we can practice," he said, a small smile growing on his face as his mind flashed images of the two playing catch. 

"Ugh! What if I suck? I guarantee I can barely throw a football," she said, rolling her eyes. 

He put his hand on her shoulder. "You got this! I believe in you (Y/N),"

Her cheeks grew hot from his touch and his words. Eren had an odd way of making her feel flustered. 

"I'll try my best to believe that.." she mumbled before looking up at the front of the class where Professor Ackerman stood. 

"Good morning.. today is going to be a pretty short lesson. I'll be releasing you all early today, so I hope you cooperate for this to go smoothly." he said, eyes roaming among the students. 

(Y/N) sighed, taking out her laptop to take notes. Eren did the same, he watched as she chewed her lip. For some reason, he always liked when she bit her lip, it was something he found.. attractive? 

"Eren." 

His eyes looked towards the front of the class where Professor Ackerman was staring at him. 

"U-Uh.. yes?" he asked, nodding his head. 

The stoic man sighed. "I get you think (Y/N) is cute, but please pay attention." he replied, turning back towards the board. 

Eren's face grew pink as he felt many eyes staring at him, (Y/N)'s being one of them. 

"Yeah Eren.." she whispered, giggling a bit at his cuteness. 

He rolled his eyes before elbowing her side, causing a small yelp to escape her lips. She glared at him and returned back to her notes, a wide grin appearing on his features. He just loved messing with her. 

Eren ended up zoning out while taking notes. His mind wandered to other things like football, sleep, (Y/N), wait what?

"Eren!" 

He turned his head to meet her gaze, she was putting her stuff away. "Class is over, come on," she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

He blinked for a moment before putting his stuff into his bag. 30 minutes really flashed like that? 

"I barely paid attention to what he was saying.." Eren said, rubbing his tired eyes. 

She exited the classroom with him by her side. "Trust me.. I don't understand Ackerman much either. Sasha had him and almost failed his class," she replied, nudging his arm a bit. 

A smile grew onto his lips. "Yeah I guess he is…" he said, turning his head to look at her. 

There was that stare again.

His eyes wandered to the small features of her face, (Y/N) was so pretty to him. 

"Do you wanna head to your dorm? You know.. to pick up the football?" she asked, breaking his thoughts. 

"Y-Yeah! Let's go," he replied, heading towards the exit of the campus building. 

She followed him to his residence hall. Eren was walking pretty quickly, curse him and his long legs. (Y/N) slowly caught up, grabbing his arm in the process. 

"Slow down! I almost lost you there," she said, trying to catch her breath. 

Pink dusted onto his cheeks. "My bad! I'll slow down.." he muttered before opening the door to his building.

She rolled her eyes before following him down the hall to his dorm, she had only been to his dorm about once. The one time she helped him clean it. She silently prayed she wasn't this gross guy who just dirtied his room after cleaning it, that would for sure disappoint her. 

He opened it and ushered her inside, her eyes scanned the room. He still kept it neat, surprisingly.

"I should have one around here somewhere," Eren said, opening his drawer. He dug around the dresser for a moment before pulling out the football. "Here ya go!"

He tossed it to her, she caught it and eyed the ball. She hadn't touched one in a pretty long time. 

"So 7:30 right?" she said, looking at him. 

He smiled, "Yeah for sure! I'll text you when I'm on my way," he replied. 

She nodded, "Sounds good! I'll see you then. I gotta head to my next class.. so uh, I'll text you!" she said before heading towards the door. 

He waved, "See you later!" 

She made her way out of his dorm. Eren smiled to himself, (Y/N) was such a cute idiot. He couldn't get over it, the way she eyed the football made him happy, she looked so cute. 

Maybe tonight would go well… maybe, just maybe, Eren could see her as more than a friend. 

-

Eren was awoken in his dorm by his phone going off. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was dark out. He could faintly see the lights from the campus shining into his room, lighting up the walls.

A groan escaped his mouth as he grabbed his phone, Jean was calling him for some reason. 

"Hello?" Eren said, his voice deep and groggy from sleep. 

"Finally! Dude I've called you like four times! Were you sleeping?" Jean asked over the phone. 

He rubbed his tired eyes, "Yeah I was.. what do you want though? Where are you?" he asked. He could faintly hear some background noise.

"I'm at Connie's frat right now! You should come by! This party is getting pretty lit, plus you have been laying low on partying anyway," Jean replied. 

Eren looked at the time on his phone, it read 7:00. 

He contemplated for a moment, would going out partying even be worth it? He had been kind of low on the party scene lately, it may help him feel a bit better. 

"Fine… I'll be there in 10," he replied, sitting up on his bed. 

"Sick! I'll see you then!" Jean replied before hanging up the phone with a click. 

Eren sighed, he stood up and turned on the light to his room. He put on a black zip up hoodie and some grey sweatpants, he wasn't exactly looking to impress and do much. Maybe a few shots and that's all? Plus it was a Wednesday night. 

As Eren exited his dorm, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. Did he have assignments? No. Practice? No. He wasn't exactly sure what was missing, he just shrugged it off and made his way to the frat house. 

Little did he know… he was forgetting something.

-

Eren downed his third shot that night, the burning of the alcohol went down his throat and to his stomach. He placed the glass onto the table, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. 

"You want another?" Connie asked, holding the bottle towards him. 

Eren shook his head, "Nah.. I'm good."

He felt a weight next to him, Jean was sitting next to him now. His face was lightly pink from the alcohol he consumed earlier, Jean was such a lightweight drunk. 

"So Jaeger when are you even coming back on the team? You've been benched for weeks," he asked, looking at him.

Eren sighed, "I dunno.. maybe if coach actually listened to me." he replied with a shrug. 

Jean slung his arm around his shoulder, "You got this! I think you'll be back soon," he slurred. 

Eren pushed Jean off of him, "You smell like beer dude, go somewhere else." 

He furrowed his brows, "Shut it! You seem grumpy.. did (Y/N) stop letting you hit or something?" Jean asked, crossing his arms. 

Eren's eyes grew wide at Jean's words.

Shit!

"Oh shit.. fuck! (Y/N)!" Eren yelled.

"Huh? Is everything okay Eren?" Connie asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He fumbled for his phone, the time read 8:20. It all hit him at once. Eren was supposed to be at the field practicing with her, it totally slipped his mind! He also noticed the missed texts and phone calls he had from her. 

(Y/N): 9 missed calls

7:02 <-(Y/N): hey i'm done with class!

7:10 <-(Y/N): uh hello? did you fall asleep?

7:19 <-(Y/N): Eren??? dude i'm at the field

7:21 <-(Y/N): dude seriously, where are you?

7:32 <-(Y/N): Eren, i'm not playing anymore. where are you??? you were supposed to be here.

7:41 <-(Y/N): wtf dude?? are you seriously ditching me?? this isn't funny Eren.

7:49 <-(Y/N): i'm giving you 15 more minutes if you're not gonna show up, i'm leaving.

8:01<-(Y/N): okay cool. ignore me, thanks for being an asshole. i thought you were cool but i guess people never change huh? don't even bother coming.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I gotta go, see you guys later." Eren said before rushing up the stairs out of the basement. 

Eren rushed out of the frat house, he pushed past a few people and got outside. The wind picked up as he rushed towards the campus, he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing that he forgot. He felt so guilty, that was fucked up for him to do. 

In the distance storm clouds brewed, lightning flared in the sky lighting up the darkening clouds. Thunder boomed in the horizon as the wind began to blow around the fall leaves. 

Just what I need, a fucking storm Eren thought as he rushed to the practice fields. 

The bright lights were still on, unfortunately Eren didn't see (Y/N). He looked around the field, maybe she was in her car? 

Eren fished for his phone to call her. "Come on pick up.." he groaned, looking around the empty field. The wind blowing in his hair. 

"So.. you finally decided to show up."

He turned to see (Y/N) leaning against the small bench, her arms crossed. 

"(Y/N)! I-I'm.. I didn't mean-"

"Just save it. I don't wanna hear your excuses," she cut him off. 

Eren tried coming towards her, "I'm sorry! I didn't get your texts and everything slipped my mind!" 

She rolled her eyes, "You left me here for an hour! I genuinely thought you were a nice guy.. but I guess some people never change. Just do this all yourself." she replied, tossing the football at him. 

He watched as she began to walk away, the storm in the distance beginning to get closer. He ran towards her, grabbing her forearm. 

"(Y/N).. please don't go, there is a storm right now and I don't want you walking by yourself." he said, looking at her with concern in his eyes. 

She tried pulling away from him, "Eren just go! You clearly don't give a shit, just go back to your stupid party. I could care less.." she mumbled. 

The crash of the thunder made him look up at the sky, "(Y/N)! I'm being serious! We need to go inside, just come with me okay!?" he yelled. 

She scoffed, "Just fuck off dude! Let me go back to my dorm!" she argued back. 

Eren was beginning to get frustrated with her, "I already explained! I get what I did wasn't cool! Just stop fucking around and let's go! The dorms are so far and you'll be walking in the rain, just come with me already!" he replied. 

Droplets of water began to fall from the sky, darkening the material of Eren's clothes. Lightning flashed along the sky and thunder followed soon after, booming and rumbling making the ground slightly shake. 

"No! Just let me go back by myself, I don't need your fucking help. You're such an ass! I wish I never helped you, God, I was so dumb to even think you changed!" she yelled as the rain pelted down on them. 

He stayed silent, the rain hitting his head and making his hair wet. It soon began to fall at a quicker pace. 

"I'm leaving.." she mumbled before starting to turn away. 

Suddenly, Eren grabbed her arm and put his hand behind her head, pulling her into a kiss. At first she didn't move, then her lips suddenly began to move against his. Her arms went to his neck. 

The rain fell onto them, soaking their clothes and making the ground below them wet. The kiss they shared was raw, passionate, and it broke the tension they've been having for the past two weeks. 

"Just shut up (Y/N).." he said before pressing his lips back onto hers. 

His arms snaked around her waist, bringing her closer to his skin. She shivered a bit as the wind blew against her wet flesh. 

"E-Eren.." she said, breaking the kiss between them. Her lips puffy. 

He looked up at the sky, "Let's go.. we're gonna get sick," he said. 

He took her hand into his, her cheeks growing hot as he guided her through the wet field and towards the locker rooms. Eren had snuck a key and he always kept it on him just in case he ever needed a way back into school, he silently hoped (Y/N) wouldn't tell anyone. 

He slid the key inside of the lock and turned it a few times, he felt the click of the lock and pulled the door open so she could step inside the locker room. Nobody would be around at this hour so nobody would catch them.

(Y/N) shivered entering the locker room, both of their clothes were soaking wet; the cooler air made goosebumps form onto Eren's skin. 

"Just sit right here," Eren said, pointing at a spot in front of his locker. 

(Y/N) plopped down, the sound of her wet leggings hitting the surface of the bench. Her hair was soaking, so was her outfit, she had no idea how she was going to explain this to Sasha. 

Eren walked into the showers, his eyes scanning for the towels they kept for the players. He opened the door to the closet and grabbed two of the white ones, he hoped nobody would notice they were missing since his coach kept count of all that shit. 

The squelching of Eren's shoes made (Y/N) look up, he tossed her the towel before sitting down next to her. 

"I'm sorry again.. if you don't want to help anymore, you don't have to." he said, looking at her. 

She rubbed the material along her face and through her hair. A sigh escaping her lips before she spoke, "I'm not gonna stop helping you.. that's not who I am, but I wish I got some kind of heads up." 

Eren nodded, wiping some water off his face. "That's my fault and I'm sorry for that," he replied. 

She looked at the ground. "You're forgiven.. but Eren," she said, looking at him. 

His eyes averted towards her, his head nodding to the side. "Hm?" he asked.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Why did you kiss me?"

Eren let out air through his nose, he leaned against the lockers behind him. His back pressing against a lock, why did he kiss her? Was it just the heat of the moment? Did he want to release the tension they had? 

He clicked his tongue, "Being honest.. I don't know. I guess in a way.. I like you, I hate to admit it but I do," he said. 

Her eyes widened a little, Eren Jaeger liked her? She wasn't exactly upset.. she felt the same way and it was blatantly obvious at that point since she did lean into the kiss and she could feel the tension between them the last few weeks. 

"E-Eren.." she whispered. 

He looked at her, "What? I know you don't like me back," he mumbled.

She stuck out her hand to touch his face which was now dry, her fingers ran along his skin. "I do like you.." 

He froze for a second, she was never one to tell a lie and by the way she spoke he could tell she was being truthful with him. 

He turned his body to face her, their knees were now touching and tingles came from the touch. Eren's hand found its way to her cheek, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain drops that laid on her skin. 

Their faces leaned into one another, their lips connecting into a kiss. 

Her hands found their way into Eren's damp brunette locks, pulling him down closer to her. Eren's hand found its way to her waist where he squeezed the flesh, some of the material of her shirt was damp and it made his hands wet. 

"I want you.." Eren whispered, his breath uneven. 

She looked into his eyes. "I want you more.." 

His hands went towards her thighs, his fingers rubbing circles on the skin; it made her jolt a bit. 

"You like that huh..?" he asked with a smirk forming on his features. 

She playfully smacked his arm. "Oh shut up," she replied, her eyes rolling. 

He smirked before moving his head to her neck, he pressed his lips against her skin; his lips were hot, almost feverish. They attacked her neck making her skin feel warm. 

A soft moan escaped her mouth feeling his tongue glide against her sweet spot, he was about to bite down when a buzzing broke him out of his thoughts. 

(Y/N) slightly groaned when she reached in her pocket for her phone. Eren leaned away and furrowed his brows, pondering as to who could be calling right now. 

"Hello?" she said, chewing her bottom lip. 

"(Y/N)!? Hello!? Dude I've been texting you for an hour! Where are you? It's storming like crazy outside and I knew you were out with Eren, is everything okay?" 

She instantly knew it was Sasha. 

She sighed, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine Sasha. Eren took me to his dorm, we actually got rained on. I'll be back soon," she replied, her eyes wandering towards Eren who seemed unfazed. 

She could hear Sasha chewing on food. "Okay! Have fun! I'll see you soon," she said. 

(Y/N) hung up and placed her phone down next to her leg. "Sorry about that," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. 

Eren chuckled, "You're fine.. I think we should get back anyway, I don't want the janitor to come and find us here," he replied before standing up. 

He held out his hand for her and she took it with a smile on her face, she shivered a bit since her clothes were still somewhat wet from being outside in the rain. Eren took notice of this and went to his locker.

"Hold on a sec," he said, making (Y/N) stop in her tracks. 

She nodded as she watched him unlock his locker, he grabbed what seemed to be a hoodie. It had the University colors on it. He slammed his locker before locking it up and turning towards her. 

"You should take this.. it's really cold and I don't want you getting sick," he said, holding out the fabric for her. 

Her cheeks grew hot, but she just took the sweater from him. "Thank you.." she said, holding it close to her chest. 

He smiled, "Of course! Now let me take you back to the dorms, it's the least I can do." 

She smiled before following Eren out of the locker room. 

-

The long walk back to (Y/N)'s dorm was quite fun, the two had encountered a few professors along the way and they had to hide in bathrooms to make sure they wouldn't get caught. 

It was something (Y/N) wasn't used to, she was always staying out of trouble and she was seen as a good girl most of the time. Eren found that to be quite amusing, regarding the circumstances anyway. 

He leaned against the wall that was next to her dorm door. "So uh.. tonight was something," he said, chuckling a bit.

(Y/N) giggled, "It definitely was.. but I had a lot of fun. Even if I'm freezing right now," she replied. 

Eren looked at her, "I- uh.. I hope you know I meant what I said about liking you.. I really do and I want to be more than just a friend to you," he said, his cheeks slightly pink. 

She looked at the ground before looking back up at Eren. "I meant what I said too.. I do like you, Eren."

"I mean.. by the way you moaned earlier.." he smirked. 

She smacked his arm again. "Oh shut it! I'll kick your ass, but anyway.. I do want to have something more," she said, rocking on her heels. 

Eren smiled, "Sounds good.. can I kiss you again?" he asked. 

She nodded her head before leaning into his face again, Eren put his hands onto her shoulders giving them a small squeeze before pulling away. 

"Kissing you hits different," he whispered before kissing her cheek. 

Her cheeks were hot, "You're such a dork.. goodnight Eren!" she said, putting her hand on the knob of the door. 

He chuckled, "Goodnight (Y/N)."

Eren walked back to his dorm with a giant grin on his face, he felt like he just won a game just now; but this time.. he won something special. (Y/N).

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @erensapologist @luvrboykento @callmepromise @katsuhera @moomii-hime @flam3bird @thicmitten @daughter-of-the-stars11 @just-a-little-sad @lunamoonawatcher @sofi-yeager @ryan249057 @chayauwu @bell0214 @jaegercult

[autumnsart22]

A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 2/2

Part 2 of the fanfic my friend wrote! 

Warning: SMUT 🔥

Dabi strode off down the hall and you started to work on putting the rest of the groceries away, and cleaning some dishes in the sink. Shigaraki stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen. He looked around before looking at you, raising the empty beer bottle. You opened the drawer that held the trash and recycling and he threw it in with a loud clunk. He stood there in the middle of the kitchen for a little while before you finally asked,

“Can I help you?” 

“You’re standing in front of the fridge.” he states plainly.  You roll your eyes and move out of the way as he grabs another beer. He makes his way back to the table and sits down.

 You both pass the time in silence as he sips on his beer and you finish cleaning the kitchen. At some point Dabi comes out of the bathroom still drying his hair with a towel wearing nothing but your brother's old pair of black joggers that look slightly too big but the strings in the front were tied tight preventing them from falling any lower. Dear god what have you done to deserve this? He switched with Shigaraki who took his turn in the bathroom while you scoured the apartment for extra blankets and pillows and threw them on the couch. When Shigaraki was done in the shower he came out in a long sleeve white shirt and your ex-boyfriend's old pair of grey sweatpants. He joined Dabi who had heated up one of the soba cups from the store. 

“Okay I’m gonna go shower, you can just...yea” you spoke out loud trailing off as neither of them paid you any attention, and you left to go to the bathroom. You peeled off your work clothes, just some black jeans and a black blouse, throwing them into the same pile of clothes as Dabi and Shigaraki’s. You took your time washing your hair and and shaving your legs feeling like you deserved to pamper yourself a little given your night. You weren’t that tired given that you basically turned nocturnal since working at the bar. When you felt fresh and clean you dried off and wrapped yourself up in a towel to head to your room. Once you changed into some sweats and a tank top you made your way back out to the living room to find Dabi, now wearing a black t-shirt, and Shigaraki on the couch both nursing another beer while talking in hushed tones which again halted the moment they saw you. They both looked at you. 

“What?” You said confused on why they were both staring at you. 

“I have more questions,” Shigaraki stated, finally averting his gaze away from you, although it seemed reluctant. 

“Okay...shoot” you said walking into the kitchen for a glass of water then plopping onto the middle section of the couch in between them. If there was one piece of furniture you splurged on it was this couch. It was a huge ‘U’ shape and could fit up to 10 people if they squished side by side. Shigaraki and Dabi were both sprawled on the two sides of the couch with you sitting in the bottom of the U. 

“What sort of art or shit do people create about us?” 

You almost choke on your water. That was not the sort of question you were expecting. 

“Why?” you said suspiciously.

“You mentioned it earlier and I’m curious,” Shigaraki said, making large hand gestures swinging his beer bottle around. He must be getting kinda tipsy. 

“Fine but if I’m answering these questions. I’m gonna need a stronger drink” 

“All out here princess” Shigaraki says, taking the last gulp of his beer and waving it towards you. 

“Same here.” Dabi says holding his beer bottle up, as though expecting you to take it. You stand up and grab both bottles and chuck them into the recycling, then grabbing a bottle of rum from the back of your cabinet. You make your way back to the couch and take a large swig shuddering as it goes down. Shigaraki motions for the bottle and you hand it over passing it to Dabi afterwards. 

“Okay so back to my question” 

“Well people write and draw all kinds of shit. Everything from just realistic art or funny art to overtly sexual” Shigaraki raises an eyebrow at this. 

“What you don’t believe me?” You ask laughing slightly cause if only they knew. 

“People think of crusty in that way?” Dabi laughs. 

“Hey like you’re any better staples. Y/N who do people like more?” Shigaraki shoots. 

“That’s gotta be Dabi. He’s pretty well known as being attractive” 

“Fuck you” Shigaraki pouts and Dabi smirks to himself. 

“Hey it’s not my fault, and trust me there’s still a ton of shit about you. And some of both of you” You said this last part quickly while taking another large swallow of rum. You couldn’t help yourself. 

“What do you mean the both of us?” Dabi and Shigaraki looked at you hesitantly.

“Well people like to put you two together. It’s called shipping, or they just pair you together as like a duo in fanfiction” 

Both of their reactions looked like they were about to gag and murder the other at just the thought of what people had had them do to eachother. 

“Okay that’s the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life” Dabi says reaching for the bottle which you hand over willingly. 

“Moving on from that,” Shigaraki says, shaking his head as though to physically erase his mind. “So Y/N you’re obviously a fan. Who are your favorites?”  

“I don’t know. I have a lot of people I like and don’t like. It depends.” At this point your brain was becoming warm and fuzzy but you didn’t want to let anything slip out that could be potentially embarrassing or would make the two men turn against you. 

“Bullshit. Spill” 

“I told you it depends” 

“On what?”  he said this with a sneer. 

“I don’t know” You said exasperatedly.  “my mood, who’s been most present in the media. It just depends on what I’m looking for.”

“What you’re looking for?” Dabi repeated confusedly. 

“Next question” You state simply. 

The two villains raise their eyebrows at you, curious at your evasion of the question, but your lips stay shut. 

“Fine we’ll come back to that one Princess.” Shigaraki complies.“What do we look like in the show? I mean do we look different in real life?” 

“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out how to get you guys back?” you ask. 

“Not much we can do about it. I’m sure the rest of the league and Kurogiri are tracking down those thugs right now, so answer my question” 

“I don’t know. I guess you look kinda different, but I can still recognize you. I can show you if you want?” Shigaraki looks at you with affirmation. You get up to get your computer which you hook up to the tv screen in front of the couch. Dabi and Shigaraki turn so they can see the television, both laying down on their backs. You open your laptop (sorry I am basing it off my computer) and type in your password. 

“Is that Shoto?” Dabi says disgustedly. There was in fact a fanart picture of Todoroki amongst the collage that was your background screen. 

“Oh yeah. He would be in the it depends list” you say timidly quickly opening up the browser to cover up the background. 

“Why the fuck did he look like some 20 year old model?” 

“I told you, it’s fanart. People draw characters the way they see them or want to see them. Shoto is also really popular amongst fans if not the most I would say” 

Dabi makes a noise of revulsion. You turn back to start typing in Shigaraki’s name into the browser and instantly images pop up as well as the fandom wiki and regular wiki articles. You click on images and start to scroll through. 

“This is weird” Shigaraki says slightly in awe but disturbed at seeing this world's visions of his life. “Here give me that” he says gesturing towards your computer. You hand it over reluctantly. 

“Seriously?!” he says grabbing the laptop. 

“What?” you say hesitantly. Did you forget to close out of something?

He lifts the computer for Dabi to also see the two stickers on the sides of your trackpad. 

“The anger explosion boy and pro eraserhead?” Dabi said, judgement was obvious in his tone. 

“What?” you said defensively. 

“Nothing I just thought you’d be a villain girl and all” 

WTF, you think. What was that supposed to mean?

“Why do you think that? And who says I’m not?” 

Dabi raised an eyebrow in interest but didn't answer your taunts, instead turning back to the screen. Shigaraki has been scrolling through and tapping on pictures of himself making little noises and reactions. 

“This is fucking weird” He states again, the screen was stopped on a very sultry piece of fanart of Shigaraki. 

“Take that down you freak. No one needs to see your crusty dusty body like that. Hand it over.” Dabi tells Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki passes the computer over and Dabi searches his own name seeing all the pictures of him, although significantly more fanart pops up for him. He scrolls for a little bit but becomes weirded out or downright just bored at the photos of him. He then goes back to the wikipedia page and starts to read. While the two men continue to look at the screen and read information about their show, you stand up and head to the kitchen feeling peckish. You wander through the kitchen opening and closing all the cabinets waiting for something to catch your eye. You open the fridge and close it moving onto the freezer. Your eyes scan the contents when you spot the pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. You take it out and grab a spoon making your way back to the couch. When you get to the couch both Shigaraki and Dabi are staring at you again with intensity and amusement. 

“What?” you say, plopping back into your spot, struggling to tear open the plastic and resorting to using your teeth. With both of them still staring at you as though waiting for something, you look at the screen and see that your messages are open. You take a second to read the new text from your friend. 

‘Dude have you read this Shiggy Dabs fanfic? It made me 🤤🥵’

‘This ones similar to the last one you sent me, so be prepared⛓️😂’ 

Your heart sank as you saw the familiar logo of Ao3 underneath those texts. 

“What were you saying about being a villain girl?” Dabi said, smirking. 

“I––” You had no idea what to say. 

“Aww is the Princess embarrassed” Shigaraki says teasingly. 

You try to get up to leave but a hand roughly pulls you back down and you hide behind your hands refusing to look at the two villains. This was so embarrassing. What were you going to do? Now they knew that you liked them. That you were like the other people in this world that they had been disgusted by all night. They weren’t likely to just let this go. If only you could get to your room and lock the door maybe they would just leave. 

“Come on don’t be shy. Are we on your depends list?” 

They take your silence and continued evasion as an affirmation. 

“Hmm…” You hear Dabi hum lowly. “What exactly are we dependent on? What are you looking for when you search for us?” Dabi asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Come on tell us” Shigaraki coos. You shake your head. You could feel both of the boys drawing closer to you like school bullies cornering you in the bathroom,  but you didn’t dare look up at them, too embarrassed. That’s when you heard typing. Your head whips up to see Dabi replying to your friend. 

‘What exactly do you mean by similar?’

By the time you read what he wrote they were already responding. 

‘You know 😂  the usual non-con threesome with you and dabs and shigs. Kidnapping, ropes, degradation, similar to all the other fanfics 😋 tho in this one you cum four times and each a dif way😳 ’

If your stomach dropped even more. It would have touched the ground. 

“So not only are you a villain’s girl but you’re a kinky little slut too?” Dabi says chuckling. He was practically next to you staring at your frozen figure as you looked at the screen. 

“I should have known when you walked out here with these cute little things poking out” He reached over and pinched your nipple tugging on the metal barbell through it. You squealed instinctually pulling away but he caught the top of your tank top effectively pulling it down revealing your breasts, each decorated with a metal piercing. 

You motion to cover them, but your hands are once again forced behind your back, however this time Shigaraki had the pleasure of restraining you. 

“Let go of me!” you yelped at the humiliating assault. 

“I thought you liked this?” Dabi said in mock sympathy. “Just how many times have you gotten off to us?” 

You were squirming trying to remove yourself from Shigaraki’s grip. 

“Answer the question” Dabi said, pinching your nipple again. You yelped in pain but you could feel the slick starting to build between your legs. 

“A lot okay. Now let go!” 

Dabi and Shigaraki complied surprisingly. You regained your breath and pulled your tank top back up. The next few minutes passed in silence as Shigaraki took another swig of rum and Dabi continued to scroll through the different My Hero wikipedia pages. You got up still in shock taking your forgotten ice cream back to the freezer. You had lost your appetite. 

What were you supposed to do now? You were still slightly scared of them after what just happened but you couldn’t ignore the arousal that had been sparked deep within you. You had dreamt of this many times. This wasn’t much different than the different fanfiction you had read, and honestly this would be on the tamer end, but that was just fiction. But were you really going to pass up this chance? How could you? Yet why’d they stop? You were surprised and honestly kinda disappointed they had now that you were standing in the kitchen. And with that you had made up your mind. You are not going to pass up this chance you could never forgive yourself. 

You made your way back over to the couch but didn’t sit down. You stood in front of them silent staring at your feet, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. 

“What?” Dabi said as though nothing had happened. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked timidly. 

“Hmm? Because you said so.” Dabi said as though this was an obvious answer to a stupid question. 

You looked at him surprised.

“Don’t believe me?” He said with a small chuckle. 

When you didn’t seem to get any less anxious he continued with a sigh.

“Look Princess, I may be a bastard and sadistic villain but I don’t go wishing pain on everyone, especially ones with cute tits. Of course if they’re into that then I’m down” He said this so casually it seemed almost wrong, all while he continued to watch your computer screen. You assumed it was in part due to the alcohol, but still. 

“you’re blocking the screen,” Shigaraki said annoyed. 

“Was that all princess?” Dabi said mockingly

 “Well….” 

“What?” Shigaraki spat. 

“Hurry up,” Dabi said flatly. 

“What if I wanted to continue?” You said finally looking up at them. They both looked at you intently, then gave each other a look and were smiling when their eyes fell back to you. 

“Our little Princess wants to live out her dirty villainous fantasies...huh?”

You nod. Wait did they just say our?

“Come on tell us what you’ve dreamt about?” Dabi says beckoning you over to him with one finger.

Once you’re in front of him, he pulls you down onto his lap so you're facing him. You look at him hesitantly biting your lip.

“You’re the expert of these little situations, Princess” he says holding his hands up for you to guide them. You take his hands slowly, unsure of your actions and guide them back to your breasts. He gives you a smirk and gives you a good squeeze, causing a small moan to escape your throat. You instinctually grind down into his lap feeling his member start to harden beneath you. You lean your head back as Dabi pulls your tank top over your head. You look over at Shigaraki who’s staring at you starting to palm himself through the sweats. 

“Him too princess?” Dabi asks you, giving your nipples a pinch causing you to moan all the while still staring at Shigaraki “Mmmhmmm” 

This was enough for Shigaraki to slide down the couch to where the two of you were. 

“Tell him where you want him, otherwise he won’t know what to do, I can’t imagine he’s done this before” Dabi encourages.

“Oh shut up” Shigaraki hisses, but he focuses back on you when you grab his hand and bring it to your neck. He insticutally keeps one finger raised, but you push that finger down with the rest deep into the side of your neck limiting the oxygen flowing to your brain, enough to give you that high. Flooded with pleasure you grind down again into Dabi feeling your underwear starting to become uncomfortably wet. 

Looking into Shigaraki’s crimson eyes, you could feel them boring into you just as hungry as you felt. He leans in close, lips barely ghosting over your own. You could feel both of your breaths mixing in the millimeters between you two when Dabi gives a harsh tug to both your nipples causing you to gasp. Shigaraki seized this opportunity to violently smash your lips together. Your hand reaches into his hair, gripping for support as the initial ferver and clash of teeth dies down into long passionate tangling of tongues as you explore each other's mouth. His rough lips scratching into your’s was a sensation you’ve imagined many times but none of it lived up to reality. He nipped lightly on your bottom lip making you lean into him more. 

Dabi’s hands continued their exploration of your torso, moving down your sides to your hips and around to your ass. He squeezed and kneaded them with his strong fingers. Shigaraki squeezed your neck again sending another rush of euphoria to your head making you moan into his mouth before he pulled away to attack your neck and take over teasing your breasts. You look back at Dabi with hunger in your eyes.

“What now princess? What do you want?” He says with a devilish grin. 

You grind down into his cock again which is now hard as ever. 

“Uh-uh. Use your words.” he says giving your ass a squeeze. 

Shigaraki rolls your nipples in between his harsh fingers sending waves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, causing you to roll your head again and let out a short moan. When you look back at Dabi, you speak in a low breathy tone, almost a whisper. 

“Abuse me” 

With those few words, Dabi smirks and slips his hands underneath the waistband of your sweats. “As you wish” 

Shigaraki continues his attack to your neck sucking and biting, leaving red and darkened patches curving down your shoulder and back. Dabi continued his groping, and you could feel the rough staples scratching at your flesh and his nails digging in harsher than before. His hands slide down the curve of your ass tugging your soiled underwear to the side. 

“Hmmm you’re so wet.” Dabi said, ghosting his fingers over your dripping entrance.

“You little whore. Getting so wet for a couple of villains” You shiver at the sensitive touch and degrading words. Gripping to Shigaraki’s shirt and grinding down trying to gain friction, you notice Shigaraki palming himself again. You replace his hand with your own, wrapping your fingers around his clothed cock, squeezing lightly. Shigaraki groaned deeply in your ear, sending vibrations straight to your core while Dabi’s fingers dip slightly into your needy hole but only enough to tease more juices and whimpers out of you. You try to push down onto them only for him to retreat. 

“Please...stop teasing” you whine.

“So needy Princess huh? You want my fingers in that little cunt of yours?” 

“Yes. Dabi. Please” you didn't care at this point how pathetic you sounded. The pressure in your core was building and you needed to be pushed over the edge. 

“Go on...make yourself cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it,” Dabi said sneering at how desperate you looked. He finally allowed two fingers to sink into you as you lowered your hips again. You were always amazed at how much deeper fingers other than your own could reach, and Dabi’s in particular could reach places you could never dream of finding on your own. 

The effect was immediate. You started to roll your hips, bouncing slightly on Dabi’s fingers. You’re grip on Shigarak’s member stalls as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. Shigaraki, displeased by this fact, guides you inside his sweats, pumping himself with your hand. You could feel the precum leaking from his slit as your fingers smear it up and down his shaft. Shigaraki continued his abuse of your flesh, moving down biting and sucking till his teeth latched onto your sensitive nipple. You whine as Dabi’s other hand had found your clit. He twirled it between his fingers letting his nail drag over it. This added stimulation drove you closer sending shivers up your spine. 

“Mm close” you whimper as your movements on Dabi’s fingers become sloppy. 

“Come on princess. Make yourself cum, make a pretty little mess all over my fingers” 

Dabi presses into your clit and you grind down hard again. Dabi wickedly curls his fingers pressing into that soft spot inside you releasing the knot of pressure that had been building in your core.Your legs shake and you clamp down hard onto his fingers which are still moving in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm. 

You weakly fall forward onto Dabi’s chest as Shigaraki releases your hand from his dick. You can feel Dabi’s fingers pull out of you and when you open your eyes you see him playing with your sticky release coating his fingers. You watch as Dabi brings his fingers to his mouth, smearing some on his lip and licking it before taking them into his mouth, sucking and cleaning yourself off of him. 

“Princess you’re delicious” He says smiling down at you making you blush at the crude compliment. 

“My turn to taste'' Shigaraki said, pulling you off Dabi’s lap. He positioned you on your back, your head resting on Dabi’s thigh. As Shigaraki did away with your sweats and underwear, you pulled Dabi’s mismatched lips to yours. The feeling was heavenly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth. You tugged needily at Dabi’s shirt and he pulled it off only breaking the kiss for a brief moment. 

You savored the wet and slow pace opposite to Shigaraki’s fast and rough, both pleasure in their own ways. You’re breath hitched and you moaned deeply when you felt Shigaraki’s wet tongue lick the length of your core, swiping up the sticky left overs from your previous release. 

You look down at Shigaraki. He had positioned himself between your thighs, knees slumped over his shoulders. He was staring up at you licking his lips before attaching himself to your clit sucking at it harshly. You could feel that ball of pressure tighten again in your stomach and you let your head fall back to Dabi’s thigh, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of the hot wet mouth working at your sex. You’re hand threaded its way into Shigaraki’s silky blue hair, tugging lightly, only making him suck harder. 

You felt Dabi’s hand on your cheek and you opened your eyes looking up into his sapphire eyes before he turned your head. You were met with Dabi’s unclothed cock. Your eyes followed the Jacobs ladder of staples up his shaft to the head where you could see a bead of precum sitting at the slit. You smile thinking how in the hell fanfic got this detail right. 

“What’re you smiling at? Impressed?”

“Hmm...No piercing, huh? Guess they got that part wrong” 

“You people are sick” he says chuckling before directing his dick into your mouth. 

You take it gladly bobbing your head down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks before sliding back up, letting your tongue catch on each of the staples. Dabi let out a low groan, putting his hand in your hair to keep it away from your face. 

You continue to work your mouth on Dabi’s cock while Shigaraki continues to swipe his tongue through your sensitive folds. You moan around Dabi’s length when Shigaraki slips a finger inside, causing you to buck your hips, pushing his tongue deeper into you. 

The vibrations from your tight throat had Dabi pushing your head down taking his entire length. You gagged around his cock, choking for air but that only drove you further into your pleasure. Shigaraki added another finger and started pistoning into you violently while sucking at your clit once again. You moaned, tugging at Shigaraki’s hair, signaling you were close. You could tell Dabi was close too as he took control and started face fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. 

Shigaraki added a third finger stretching you wider and driving you over the edge for the second time as you gasped around Dabi’s cock, legs squeezing around Shigaraki. Your orgasm drove Dabi to the edge as he thrust into you again and kept your head down as your throat tightened around his length. Thick ropes of cum shot from the tip and slid down the back of your throat. You took it all swallowing until you couldn’t breathe anymore pushing Dabi away. You’re head lolled on Dabi’s lap as you recovered from your high. 

Dabi was leaning back breathing deeply with his eyes closed. Your brain was still foggy but it wasn’t long until you felt something back against your sex. Looking down you see Shigaraki lining himself up with your entrance, coating his cock in your juices. Your eyes widen at seeing his length out in the open. It was not as decorated as Dabi’s but it held the same presence, being about an inch longer although not as thick as Dabi’s. Shigaraki looks up at you when he lines himself up, the tip merely resting against you, and sees your nervous expression. 

“Huh didn’t think I was getting you this wet for nothing. I ain’t wasting a drop of this pussy” 

He stared into your eyes as he steadily pushed into you. The stretch was almost unbearable. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to make it through the burning stretch. 

“Shit you’re tight. Feels like my dick is in a vice... fuuuuuck… relax” Shigaraki hissed. 

You could barely register his voice let alone his request. You could barely breath focusing only on the pain as Shigaraki continued to push against your walls. 

“Hey patchwork stop sleeping and get her to breathe” 

Dabi shifts underneath you and you feel his hands run down your sides outlining your torso. Even though he didn’t have his quirk, his hands were hot and soothing as they rubbed against your skin. 

“Come on Princess.” You open your eyes slightly to see Dabi looking down at you patronizingly. 

“You’ve been doing so well,” He said brushing your jaw with the back of his hand. “And you wanna feel good right?” 

You nod meekly. 

Dabi leans down so his lips are hovering centimeters over yours. The smell of alcohol on his breath tantalizing and his minty scent making your head spin. 

“Breathe Princess. Just focus on me” He whispers before putting his lips on yours. You melt into the kiss doing exactly what Dabi says, exhaling through your nose and focusing on the way his cold staples scratch against your skin while his soft tongue dances with your own.  

When you break the kiss for air it’s only because Shigaraki has managed to bury himself to the hilt. You can feel him pressing against your cervix deep inside you. You look  at him again and find him head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in the feeling of you pulsing around him. Even though you know it’s not out of consideration but pure self indulgence, you're glad that he hasn’t started moving yet as you adjust to his length. Eventually it seems the lust of needing to rearrange your insides trumped being his own personal cockwarmer. His eyes fell on you again as you pulled out till only the tip was inside before bottoming out once again. Each time slowly pulling out only to thrust back in at full force.

You were still adjusting to his length, but soon the burning sensation of being stretched and pounded turned into addicting pleasure. You resumed your kiss with Dabi whose hands had found their way to your breast as Shigaraki increased his pace. Soon you were being knocked senseless by Shigaraki’s ruthless pace. He always has been fast on screen, so why did you think he’d be any different here. Moans and gasps escaped your mouth as the tip of Shigaraki’s cock hit your cervix. Once again the pressure began to build in your core. You began to whimper as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuckkk I’m close. It’s like you're pulling me deeper. So fucking good” Shigaraki panted out falling to his hands on either side of your hips for support. You whimper again and claw at the couch cushions as you could feel yourself just on the brink when Dabi’s hand slides down your stomach and begins rubbing at your clit. You cry out and clamp down hard on Shigaraki legs shaking and eyes rolling back as Dabi’s ministrations send you through your third orgasm of the night.

You feel Shigaraki thrust once more hard and then hot thick jets of white paint your walls. You shudder at the feeling of being pumped full, your sex still milking him of everylast drop. Shigaraki finally pulls out of you and lays back on the couch catching his breath savoring the last waves of his high falling down. 

You too were recuperating and limp, unable to move. Your mind was hazy from the alcohol and the relentless stimulation.  You were so tired that you didn’t even care about cleaning up but rather drifting off to sleep right there. However you were jostled from these thoughts as Dabi had rolled you off his lap and onto your stomach. You could hardly keep up with his movements as he stood and walked around you. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of hands lifting your hips that you looked back to see Dabi fisting is dick that looked painfully hard. You couldn’t fathom another round right now but you were still so weak from your last high that you didn’t have time to prepare before Dabi thrusted into your already abused hole. 

He sighed once he was buried inside you. He leaned down so his chest was hovering above your back the heat making your skin prickle. He leaned down till his breath could be felt on the back of your neck. 

“Mhmm… ’m so close already and you’re gonna let me pump you full, aren’t you princess”

You couldn’t respond because your overly sensitive body was already reacting to Dabi's hard cock pressing into you, stretching you wider around his girth. Even though your mind was fading in and out, you involuntarily pressed your hips back to make him go deeper, seeking out the friction your body needed to overdose on. 

Dabi was the exact opposite of Shigaraki. He took his time, thrusting in and out, making sure you felt every staple and ridge of his cock dragging against your walls savoring the way they pulled him in. Overstimulation caused tears to form in the corners of your eyes only soft whimpers escaping your mouth. Dabi continued slow and deliberate, letting out low breathy grunts with every thrust. On the edge once more, never fully recovering from before, you were longing to be undone one last time.

“Please Dabi” you mewl.

Dabi snickered in your ear before snaking his hand under you and pressing his fingers to your clit which was all the stimulation you needed to moan out and squeeze around Dabi who came at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around his pulsing length. You felt his seed fill you up and mix with Shigaraki’s inside you. Dabi dropped down next to you, rolling you onto your side so you were effectively spooning with his cock still inside you. You could hear movement apart from you and Dabi, and in opening your eyes you saw Shigaraki standing pulling up the sweats that were bunched at his thighs. He noticed you staring at him. 

“Tch. I don’t cuddle Princess and I gotta piss” His tone was crude but laced with content from having a good fuck. “Don’t let a single drop out Dabi” Shigaraki stated before walking down the hall. 

Dabi didn’t respond but seemed to have no intent on moving as you felt his member begin to soften inside you. You couldn’t be more concerned about the implications behind Shigaraki’s comment or the fact that you still had a dick inside you. You were just tired and groggy from the night's events and thankful that you were finally able to be comfortable and close your eyes. You didn’t think Dabi was really a cuddle after sex with a stranger kinda guy but you weren’t complaining. He was warm and made you feel safe despite knowing he would most likely kill you in any other context. You let your eyes close again, head falling onto Dabi’s arm, giving into the waves of exhaustion coming over you. 

When Shigaraki came back from the bathroom he found you and Dabi still in the exact same position he left you in. Dabi opened his eyes when he heard Shigaraki come back into the room. 

“Is she out?” Shigaraki asked. 

“Think so,” Dabi said, finally pulling out of you and tugging the joggers back up to his hips. He slides out from behind you, but you don’t even realize, body only curling inwards at the loss of heat. Dabi stands and looks down at you with Shigaraki. You look so worn out and peaceful. Your body exposed for them, hickeys and bruises forming where Shigaraki ravaged your neck. Your ass is still red from the pounding, and welts forming where Dabi’s strong fingers dug into you. However the best part was probably the shine of slick spread on the inside of your thighs as a stream white cum dribbled from your used hole. 

Shigaraki notices this and sits down by your feet.

“What’re you doing?” 

“I told you I don’t want any of it out. Got a problem with that?” 

“Nope.” Dabi said rolling his eyes and walking away. “I’ve learned to not try and figure out your sick mind”  

Shigaraki looked back down at you. 

“Good. I have plans for her.” Dabi rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Shigaraki ran a hand up your thigh and you flexed at his touch, still unconscious. Shigaraki ran his fingers down the length of your core smearing the juices there before scooping up the stream of cum still leaking out of you and pushing it back inside you. His two fingers easily slipped into your stretched whole, but that didn’t stop a small whine from slipping from your throat. Shigaraki moved his fingers lazily in and out of you pushing the cum deeper. His eyes shot to your face when your hips bucked instinctively against him, your face was scrunched and staggered breaths and sniffs escaping your slightly parted lips, but you were still out, lost in whatever continued fantasy your fatigued brain was conjuring. 

Shigaraki pushed into you a few more times selfishly pressing into the soft spot inside you that had you clamp down onto his fingers one last time. You gasped and curled further into a ball. When Shigaraki pulled his fingers out you hummed, face still scrunched, but he got up and left to the kitchen to wash off his hands. 

When Dabi came back he met Shigaraki in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water and leaning against the counter. 

“What do we do now?” Dabi asked casually.

“Well I don’t know ‘bout you but I’m fucking exhausted” 

“Do you really think the rest of the league will be able to figure this out?” 

“Kurogiri is smart enough, even if the rest of the league is useless with this sort of thing. However I am curious what this sick twisted universe has to offer us” 

“Whatever you say” Dabi says walking back to the couch, and lifting you bridal style. You lean into his warmth as he carries you to your bedroom plopping you down on your bed and closing the door. 

When you open your eyes the next morning, you feel your head throbbing against your skull. The bright light streaming in through your window was enough to make you want to stab the sun till it was nothing more than an ember. You closed your eyes again trying to remember the dream you were having but as you searched your brain, pieces of your dream seemed to turn into memories. You shot your eyes open and sat up. It was just a dream right? Realizing you were naked and that your skin felt sticky and dirty was enough to make your head pound harder than before. Wasn’t the fact you were hungover proof enough that last night events had taken place? No, there was still a chance you had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but you had to be sure. You sprang out of bed and pulled on some loose shorts and a shirt, impatiently throwing open the door and speeding down the hall to where the proof you needed would be.

The living room was lit by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. The golden rays illuminated messy blankets and pillows strewn across the couch, an empty rum bottle, a pair of your sweats and tank top buried on the floor, but no one was there. You felt nauseous trying to piece everything together along with the aftermath of the alcohol. You rush to the sink in the kitchen and puke up the contents of your stomach. You grip the counter and close your eyes until you felt more confident in your body's ability to keep everything inside. You slowly open your eyes and look around, mind going back to what happened last night. However you get sidetracked by a bright blue sticky note sticking up from your countertop. Walking over to it you read. 

“Kurogiri is a smart man. We’ll be back Princess.  PS I want the blood out of my pants.” 

[jujutsu-headcanons]

The Epic Battle of Tokyo Metropolitan Magic Technical School 

(ft. Team Tokyo Years 1 & 2, Sukuna & Gojo)

This ordeal started because Yuji and Toge are immature idiots that don't know how to behave

Yuji was in a big meme mood and randomly called Toge an "undignified twink" in the group chat

Toge didn't appreciate this

Yuji keeps the door to his dorm open throughout the day, so Toge had no problems bursting into the room

Toge wanted to say something along the lines of "eat shit" or "go fuck yourself", you know, like people do in memes, but he felt using cursed speech was a little too much given the circumstances

So he picked up the nearest weapon, a Nerf gun that was loaded for some reason just inside the door, and went ham

He got Yuji dead square between the eyes several times

Yuji retaliated by pulling out a larger Nerf gun, that he keeps wedged between his bed and wall, and fired back

This started angrily but ended up being silly nonsense. When they ran out of Nerf bullets, they started throwing pillows and empty water bottles

Megumi, who sadly lives next door, gets pissed

He's trying to watch a documentary on the Mothman why are you guys so fucking loUD

What do two teenage boys have to even scream and giggle about are the Jonas Brothers getting back together or smthn

He, too, bursts into Yuji's room

He gets a pair of boxers to the face

Now, it's important to mention they were clean because Yuji is just too lazy to put his laundry away

But Megumi didn't know that

Megumi Fushiguro goes feral

Megumi happens to know that Yuji keeps Nerf guns hidden, not only around his room, but around the whole dorm

This is because Yuji genuinely believes Nerf guns will protect him during a zombie apocalypse

So Megumi pelts both Toge and Yuji with Nerf bullets because APPARENTLY summoning shadow dogs is too mean

Somehow this gets brought outside in the courtyard

Sukuna wakes up and is like "wtf is happening" and opens up his left eye to get a peak

Sukuna gets hit in the eye. Shit REALLY goes down.

Sukuna starts throwing the GUN at people because he has no idea how to work the damn thing

Rocks get thrown too it's a mess

Nobara and Maki are brought out due to the commotion

Maki quickly understands what's going on because something similar to this happened last year

....except it was summer and they were using water guns and everyone was having a good time. This seemed to be an outright brawl

So she decided to get the largest Super Soaker out of storage and fill'r up

Apparently, Sukuna hates water. He's like a cat. Yuji comes back

The boys have to explain themselves because Maki is kinda scary armed with like five water pistols 

Maki thinks Toge is 100% in the right because, even though he's the same age as her, he's kinda her weird son

But Nobara thinks Toge needs to stop being a baby because Yuji is kinda her weird son too

Megumi takes Nobara's side because he didn't read the texts (he has the group on dnd) and thinks all of this was unprovoked 

Maki still yells at Yuji

Nobara yells at Maki

Nobara actually disarms Maki in what could be considered the sexiest way possible

It is now officially the First Years vs Second Years

Well, more so girl vs girl with the others playing support

Somehow no one has run out of ammo or water yet it's crazy

Now you're probably wondering where Panda gets involved with all of this

See Panda doesn't normally get involved in scenarios like this

But he doesn't mind contributing to the chaos SO

With his big meaty panda claws, he manages to fill almost a thousand water balloons

Don't ask 1) how he managed 2) why he has so many water balloons and 3) how he did it in such a short amount of time

ALSO, it's important to mention...

Toward the end Panda got bored

So about 200 are filled with water and glitter

About 50-100 are filled with shaving cream

And about 100 are filled with paint

He announces his presence by pushing a gigantic crate of water balloons into the middle of the courtyard 

Guns get chucked everywhere and now it's water balloon time

It takes forever before they get to the glitter and paint balloons

Megumi gets the first glitter bomb

Megumi goes feral pt. 2

You'll never guess who gets the first paint bomb

Remember that ridiculously expensive shirt the kids ruined with tea

Well Gojo still wears it, yea, but he wanted a plain white shirt so he bought a replacement

And he wore it home

Neon green, right to the stomach

It. Is. On.

Cursed techniques get involved

The only one at a disadvantage is Maki, who makes up for it with stealth, and Yuji, who makes up for it with speed

Megumi summons his bunnies to cause a distraction

Nobara is catching balloons mid-air with her nails and making them explode

Toge is making anyone he can catch freeze in place and slapping balloons in their face (he takes a liking to the shaving cream balloons because of this)

Gojo is throwing Red and Purple around like it's nothing he isn't even angry he's just having fun

Shoko walks in on the scene

Shoko immediately walks out of the scene

Finally, Principal Yaga arrives on the scene

This is his "I'm not happy face" :|

This face signals danger and invokes the fear of god in the children

Even Gojo kowtows with the kids

The kids are forced to 1) throw away every single Nerf gun and bullet 2) scrub the walls with their own toothbrushes until all the paint and glitter is gone and 3) are all grounded for three months

Yuji no longer calls Toge an undignified twink.

tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[artxyra]

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 2

Part 2 – DuPont believe anything they say

Part 1

Marinette was ready for anything they could throw at her because now she can bring them all down at once. Today was the start of her first time as a spy student for the School board and splitting her time between two classes. The first half of the day would be spent with Mlle. Bustier and the second half as a TA for a new teacher that recently just began over the summer.

“Are you ready, Buggy?” She heard Adrien ask her from behind.

“Buggy? That’s a new one, Kitten, and yeah I'm ready. Just one more school year with Lila and her mindless followers.” Marinette answers, absently playing with the ends of her blouse. Adrien feeling a shift in the air, grips her hand and gives the one person he sees as a sister the biggest reassuring smile he could muster.

“C’mon losers, I only have so many fucks to give out and I don’t want to blow it in the first half of class.” They heard Chloe call out behind them wearing sunglasses indoors that clashed with her golden outfit. Marinette had to prevent herself from scoffing at the fashion choice the blonde teen had made. It was a crime against fashion and the girl is the daughter of a fashion icon.

“Chloe, you know I love you, but what in the world prompted you to wear sunglasses indoors?” Marinette somehow managed not to raise her voice at a person she claims as a sister.

“Oh hush, Manette. I’m doing this to prevent future murders on my hands.” Chloe responded as Adrien and Marinette look at each other communicating with slight head shakes and hand gestures that went from them to Chloe and back to them.

“That makes no sense, Bee, and I’m afraid to know what you meant. Should I message Tim to get a lawyer on hand or just pretend that I didn’t hear anything and go on into the nightmare that we call class.” It was Marinette that took the charge like she always does in these situations where she and Adrien are at a loss when it comes to Chloe’s hidden mindset.

All Chloe gives them is a mischief smirk causing the two friends to fear what is to come.

~*~

“Good morning, class. Today I have exciting news!” The teacher, Mlle. Bustier, announces as she setting her things down and turning to the chalkboard.

The trio never would have thought they would be stuck with Caline Bustier since the beginning of their collége years to the end of their lycée years. The only reason why this is a fact is that many of the teachers in the surrounding Paris area moved out once Hawkmoth’s akuma attacks began to become more vicious. They didn’t want to teach in an area that could lead to death or effect their trauma even more. This caused the school board committee for all of Paris to let the teachers teach their current class up until graduation with only the senior teachers teaching two sets of classes which meant teaching a younger generation outside of their grade group. So far, the change has been going well with minimum out rejection.

For Mlle. Bustier’s class, it was the best transition ever; however, it only solidifies their downfall and future in the real world. Caline, a generous carrying teacher, has little to none of a backbone. Her teaching methods are questionable especially when it comes to her classes' growth, which is why the school board's deal to Marinette was to become a student spy rather than letting her go free once she passed the Baccalauréat.

Caline turns around to view her students. She’s happy to see every single one of them, but her inner smile fades away once she caught sight of Marinette. The girl had so much potential in the teacher’s eyes and it was a shame to see it go to waste. She tried to get Marinette to be an example for her peers, but the girl did nothing but cause a rift in the classroom.

“I have some amazing news. Starting today up until our class exchange program, each and every one of you will be working on a presentation choosing an infamous city in the United States. You can work in pairs no bigger than three for this assignment.” Caline began before going into detail regarding the largest project of their senior year.

The trio already knew what city they were going to pick; however, for Marinette, she was slightly wary. This assignment has little to with her problems, but she had forgotten about the exchange program that the class was selected last year to go on for this year.

Every year a certain senior class is chosen to go on an exchange to one of the partner schools in the United States. When Marinette graduated, she had forgotten that her class was chosen, so now she needs to find out how that will change her teaching assistant job plans and how she and the principal will overcome this.

“Ooh, we should Gotham! I personally know the Waynes. They are a nice family. You know?” Of course, it had to be Lila to ruin a good mood. The trio could feel the liar’s gaze lingering on them as they mentally plain on what to do. “You know Adrien, you could join my group and we’ll get an ‘A’.” Lila begins to sweet-talk her way through Adrien, ignoring the heavily implied discomfort the model was giving her.

“Huh, Lie-la, I’m actually planning on working with Chloe and Mari for this one. I’m sure Alya and Nino would love to be a part of your group.” Adrien speaks up as he repeatedly tapes the desk for help from his two surrogate sisters.

Lila huffs putting on the waterworks, like always does when she didn’t get her way.

“Adrien? C’mon sunshine, can’t you just work with Lila. She was really looking forward to doing the project with you. Nino and I decided to be a duo, anyway. I’m sure Chloe and Marinette can handle it on their own.” Alya may not be physically violent towards anyone, but she did know how to pressure someone into doing something.

Adrien shakes his head and decides that it was best to stay close to Chloe and Marinette in case something goes sideways.

Feeling the attention away from her, Lila knew she had to come up with something spectacular. However, it would be unfortunate for Marinette who decided to take a drink from her water bottle. “I know I shouldn't say anything, but I’m dating Damian Wayne.” Immediately the loyalist of flies surrounds the liar gushing about the latest news.

Marinette, on the other hand, chokes on her water creating a coughing fit. She stares aghast at the liar once the coughing died down. Chloe and Adrien couldn't help but laugh at this.

“Calm down, calm down, class. I still have much to discuss with you including the trip.” Mlle. Bustier states trying to reel on her students as the talking increases in volume.

Fading out of the class the trio opens their group chat. Marinette looks up every so often to make sure that their teacher was paying them no attention.

Queen Bee: Our class is filled with idiots. [insert screaming GIF]

Katana’s Bitch: Uh, Bee what happened?

My Voice is Music: Aren’t you like in class?

Gotham’s Princess: Yes, but that is not the point. Besides, I already did all this shit and just in class for "fun".

R U Kitten Me:  Luka, my love, I’m gonna need loads of therapy?

My Voice is Music: Liar?

Katana’s Bitch: Liar?

Queen Bee: She tried to guilt Kitten into being her partner for this large assignment. Ooh, how I can’t wait until he comes out of the closet.

Gotham’s Princess:  It will be something like this: [insert a WTF GIF]

R U Kitten Me: Ooh that’s a good one Mars.

Gotham’s Princess: [insert bowing GIF] Thank you.

Queen Bee: 10 o clock, Bustier’s looking right at us

Marinette looks away from her phone to be greeted by Mlle. Bustier stern facials. She sheepishly smiles at the teacher and begins to write in her notebook, but the content had nothing to do with what Mlle. Bustier was teaching.

A grueling class period later, Marinette rushes over to the other side of the building. She sets up the classroom for the teacher and waits for the students to arrive.

While Marinette becomes the TA for a different class, Chloe and Adrien are forced to deal with the idiocy of their classmates alone.

Chloe nearly got into a yelling match with Lila and Alya about Marinette’s whereabouts as everything soon became aware that the fashion designer was missing for the second half of the school day.

Lila, once again, tried to dig her nails into the model to be her partner for the presentation project, she even tried to pull the daddy card over the blonde not knowing that Gabriel has little power over him since he unofficially moved in with the Dupain-Cheng home and rarely makes an appearance at the Agreste home unless it was dire.

“I can’t believe how selfish you are?” Alya attempts to scream into Adrien’s face but is pulled away by Nino, once the DJ realizes what was going on. He even mouths his apologies to his friend as he pulls Alya to comfort Lila, who was making a big hissy fit.

“I just wanted him to have a good grade on this project. My Damiboo would have been a large help when we choice Gotham.” Lila sniffles in her limp hand as if she was the victim of a major crime. Chloe and Adrien just roll their eyes and continue to ignore their classmates as the second half begins.

~*~

Marinette laughs at the messages on her phone about the class before walking into Principal De La Fontaine's offices. Due to the constant attacks and akuma victim from Dupont, the Paris school board officials declared Principal Damocles unfit to be a principal and opted for De La Fontaine to oversee college and lycée of the Dupont schools seeing as they are short-staffed.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, you needed to see me?”

“Good evening, Principal De La Fontaine, and yes I do. It’s about the exchange program. The class that I’m spying for was selected to go last year and I was wondering how that will affect my teaching assistant job?” She asks taking an empty seat opposite from the Principal.

“Why yes, we probably should discuss this before you go. This might be the last piece for the school board in regards to Caline’s teaching habits. I have already discussed it with Mme. Margaux about your month's departure.”

A sigh of relief escapes Marinette’s lips. The feeling of knowing nothing will happen to her job on the school grounds with her being gone for a month.

“Merci.” She says once their conversations end and as she walks out of the office.

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Guess who’s returning to Gotham for a month?? This fille right here!! [insert a Dottie screaming & kicking her feet GIF]

Immediately, the tweet receives dozens of replies, all ranging from screeches of who is she to can’t wait to play “Spot the Nette game” on twitter. Marinette couldn’t help up chuckle as the replies from her extended family proceeds to enter the replies.

Maybe the trip wouldn’t be so bad?

Yeah, that was a lie. Before the trip started, Lila made a tearful excuse about the presentation project then saying that Marinette and her group stole the presentation from her as their city was the same, Gotham, New Jersy. That ended up becoming a large battle about right and wrong, to which Chloe and Adrien won because they did most of the project.

The moment before the trio stepped into the airport, saying their goodbyes to Kagami, Luka, and closet family members was just as emotional. Adrien tried his hardest not to breakdown in Luka’s arms but the reminder of seeing Jon made him excited. Chloe was a weeping mess saying goodbye to her girlfriend, who promise to send messages every day to keep the bee miraculous holder sane. For Marinette, she knew that Paris was in good hands and always having Kaalki on hand has been a huge help when traveling between the two cities.

Upon entering the airplane, there wasn’t a single moment that Lila didn’t lie about her experience in Gotham. She somehow managed to get every Wayne boys' name wrong except for Damian’s and Bruce’s. Like whom the hell is Tom Grayson and Drake Todd. It took every bone in the trio’s body not to breakdown laughing and cursing at the liar for such ludicrous names. Though parts of her conversation went into the ultimate group chat where everyone from Gotham to Paris is on. Let’s just say Jason was craving for a bullet to hit the liar in an “accidental” way.

Part 3 >>

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[copias-thrall]

Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his  casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a…waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

[myvirtuesuncounted]

Okay so I've always had a vendetta for sports of all kind. If sports have 1000 haters I am one of them if sports have 1 hater I am them etc etc. And I know it's oh so predictable that the scrawny weak weird girl in your grade 3 glass can't boot a leather ball the size of her head across a 100m wide oval for some reason but when you're forced onto an empty block of grass into the middle of the Australian summer with no sunscreen or protection whatsoever and told to run because some sadistic phys ed teacher gets joy in watching some 9 year old almost kill themselves then uh I forgot where this sentence was going but like I really fucking hate sports. Also all of my sport teachers didn't let us take our hats or even our water bottles with us and I'm pretty sure they made this one kid with asthma leave their inhaler all the way on the opposite side of the field so don't ask me wtf I'm supposed to learning here. Child slavery simulator irl???? Anyway. So yeah you can tell I wasn't the most enthusiastic about sport. But my brother, on the other hand, was a fucking weirdo who played sport and actually had fun doing it. Gross. So he was on this team when we were both young where they had AFL training 2 nights a week and played a game versing other clubs on the weekends. Fucking ew imagine giving up your weekend time doing that instead of staying inside and making your SIMS kill each other lmao losers. And they always got trophies at the end of the year and whatnot for their effort and shit. So my brother always used to tease me and go "haha I've got a trophy and you've got nothing" but no way was I gonna let this glasses-wearing white boy trash talk ME of all ppl. So I went up to my mother and said "birth giver. I would like to join....... The AFL club..." And she was understandably shocked but let me play nonetheless. And bestie let me tell you it looked real easy watching a bunch of 9 year olds pass a football back and forth and get bitten by mosquitoes twice a week but once I actually got there it was NOT. I was getting thrown to the ground and knocked in the back of the head and tackled by people twice my size and part of me wondered if these children actually enjoyed football or if they just wanted a legal way to fill out their murderous urges cuz this shit was TOUGH. More often than not I went home with a nosebleed or a bent finger or some other injury. I can't believe those buff men on TV made it look so easy what. But anyway, I keep this up for the sole purpose of rubbing it in my brother's face. Every night as I was putting on my shoes with the stupid grass spikes at the bottom to be used as another weapon against myself I was thinking "this is tough but at least.... I can make my brother stfu and I can get bragging rights for life." (Part 1)

omg you actually joined an AFL team to get bragging rights over your brother, that is some serious dedication.

[sailorhyunjinz]

How do you think would skz be in a home party?🥰 love your writing~

OOOH this is fun heh LEZ GO THEM SKZ HOME PARTY HEADCANONS

also ah thank you <33 >//<

warnings; homeparty, alcohol consumption, puking other,,, drugs,,, mentions of sex under the influence, blowjobs. 

Bangchan;

ah finally some good as stress relief

chan definitely has a secret party animal hidden inside of him

he’s just so hot?!?!? like wearing ripped black jeans and those mf tanktops that show his entire ribcage from the side

~grinding~

but then he’s a total dork doing moves like the sprinkler HASHAHSAH

LOWKEY DAD MOVES

likes the really intense music, like he gets high off just music

all sweaty and UGHHDSKAJ SO HOT SO FUCKING HOT

attracts everyone at the party cause he’s just that hot

omg the arm wrestles 

the more drunk he is, the more aussie he becomes

IMAGINE HIM JUST SPEAKING IN A THICK AUSSIE ACCENT WHEN HE’S DRUNK AS A FUCKING BOAT

likes beer,,,, or like straight up soju

from the bottle ahsahsa

Minho;

will 100% trick somebody into doing drugs 

I KNOW THAT SOUNDS BAD BUT NOT LIKE ANYTHING REALLY HARDCORE 

he’d say its candy or smth (i feel like the person that would fall victim to this is drunk jeongin ahsahsah)

~grinding pt2~

its them dancer hips 😔 

he walks around this party like he owns the place (he probably does)

says the cockiest shit - “what’s up, babygirl” I FUCKING CANT-

i mean kudos to him, everybody wants to suck him off

drinking games that involve pain HASHAHAS

like slapping the person that loses the count in some sort of number game or smth

this has nothing to do with the games but just eats the ice in drinks

“it tastes yummy” and he’s like “IT ACTUALLY TASTES” you’re like wtf you stupid ass its frozen water

“oooooh,,,,”

becomes dumber as he gets drunk like,,, real dumb

will call his ex

Changbin;

i feel like he just zones out

and then starts dancing all of a sudden ahsahsha

complaining over the music

very quick in and out of emotions??

is the member that would most likely fight someone

also likes drinking a lot 

and making out

just very wild,,, and then not HAHSAHS I- 

his ego increases by like tenfolds when he’s around that many people

striking up conversations from left to right

most of his friends are people that he got to know at parties,,, or made out with

why does his voice get lower when he’s drunk??

also has a weird habit of undressing

NOT LIKE IN A SEXUAL WAY

he just starts feeling hot and doesnt even mind that there are people there

somebody fucking stop him- 

Hyunjin;

the loudest mf you will ever meet

he’s screaming for no reason at all

he’s just too excited (and if jisung is there then fucking expect to not have eardrums after the party is over)

his camera roll is just drunk party photos 

most of which are so blurry you can barely see what its supposed to be LMAO

also the mf that sings along to lyrics ITS LIKE CAN YOU STFU

before he gets too drunk he likes to make cocktails ahsahs

like mixing ice lollies with vodka 

lowkey comes up with some new type of alcohol 

total slut when he’s drunk

will let anyone fuck him

just does the sluttiest shit

licks everyone

moans in other peoples ears (a joke or not?? we shall never know)

just ugh,,, himbo material

Jisung;

BEEP BOOP BEEP BOOP FUCKBOY ALERT

no legit trying to hit up every girl and guy he sees

never goes home without sum pussy/dick

actually likes to drink?? surprisingly?? or maybe not really lmao

cannot control his limits

“i’ll just drink this and then im done”

30 minutes later homeboy is bent over the fucking toilet

also becomes the biggest baby

like after his hormones subside he just cuddles,,, 

goes over to chan to ask him to hold him

and chan is like; BITCH IM TRYING TO RELAX SHO

i also feel like he cries a lot

just gets kinda,,,, empty??

like sure, it’s fun,,, but why was he here?? what is the purpose of his life??

and then he pukes again HASHSA IM-

also,,, bong rip HASHAS IM SORRY IM SO SORRY

Felix;

loves loves loves playing games

spin the motherfucking bottle (or 7 minutes in heaven)

its all fun and games until he’s the one that gets the bottle at him

very very veeeeery giggly and just laughing at everything

muzzing NO IM JOKING IM JOKING

makes a shit ton of pot brownies and then gets too high

doesnt even recognise where he is

just staring at a mirror and then bursting out in laughter

throws it back

like its tiktok dances to the max

loves the attention he gets in like dance battles and such

LIKE LOWKEY HIS FAVORITE THING EVER

because he always wins

GO FELIX GO FELIX GO FELIX 

Seungmin;

responsible puppy

it doesnt mean that he’s boring, it just means that he doesnt want anyone in the ER

but eventually he’s drunk himself ahshash

he gets sleepy when drunk so the odds of finding him passed out in the bathroom is pretty large

when he dances he does like a little two step AHSHAHA PLEASE ITS SO ADORABLE-

he becomes like kinda awkward ahshash and its like what are you doing over in the corner??

munches all the snacks

accidentally eats felix’s pot brownies

UH OH.... he might be the one in the ER if im being frank

he thinks he’s about to pass out HSHAHSA 

will beat the shit out of felix the next day for putting the pot brownies next to the real brownies

doesnt like the taste of beer 

Jeongin;

i have a feeling he would go a bit too hard 

because he’s never really partied before and so he wants to try EVERYTHING

gets a bit too drunk OOPS-

but he’s very cute when he’s drunk so the others dont really mind

he’s like rubbing up on the others and giggling a lot with his face all flushed

would be a bit too shaky from all the substances he’s been putting into his body THAT SOUNDS REALLY BAD UH,,, I MEAN LIKE,, sugar and shit like that

he hates the taste of alcohol but pretends to like it so he fits in aASHSHA POOR BABYYYY

easily pressured into things

might actually get his first fuck while drunk just saying,,,,

everything becomes like x1000 times more interesting

balloons on the walls? i wonder what happens if i try to bite it

PROTECC

[derivativealigner]

Well, I’m done rewatching season 2 of south park and I’ve taken plenty of notes and screenshots to document all the facts and tidbits I thought were interesting or just funny. Under the cut is a collection of notes where I progressively start caring more and more about fake children

Kenny’s house is full of empty bottles, his family eats frozen waffles for dinner, and his dad is drinking at the dinner table

Kenny’s and Kyle’s dads have some history. They were best friends as teenagers

Kenny’s dad is kind of anti-Semitic, he says Kyle’s dad was successful because he’s Jewish

Cartman kind of expresses agreement with Stuart’s anti-Semitism, which I think is the first time Cartman’s been clearly anti-Semitic

Kenny’s house has rats, but his room has lights that shut off when you clap twice

WOW KYLE wtf he says “Kenny's not really my friend, Ma. I don't give a rat's ass about him.” FUCKING RUDE

Kyle and Kenny have a fun little sleepover where they play “ookie mouth”, a game where they take turn spitting in each other’s mouths. This episode (S02E10 Chickenpox) is great for fans of K2 despite how absolutely disgusting ookie mouth is

The McCormick house was something Stuart and Gerald built as teenagers. A fort in Stuart’s mom’s backyard

Gerald went to community college

Gerald and Stuart have a fun fist fight by a pond

Kyle makes a haiku: Fatass Cartman was / not on the school bus today. / What a big, fat turd.

Kenny makes a haiku: When you rub your dick, / you might find a discharge that / winds up on the floor.

Kyle makes another: Ass full of pork fat / jiggles like a Jello mold. / Mouth is flapping, too.

And another by Kyle: I bet you don't win. / They don't let big fat asses / perform on TV.

Cartman responds: Shut your God-damned mouth / or else I'm... gonna... kick you / square in the balls... asshole

I spy with my desperate eye the beginnings of Craig’s gang, featuring Kenny with wonky eyes

Bebe thinks Kyle has a hot ass and she’s not shy about saying it

Bebe writes a note to Kyle, and Stan tries to pass it on but Mr. Garrison thinks it’s Stan’s note for Kyle and makes him read it out loud. So he reads: “Dear Kyle. You have got such a great ass. I could sleep for days on those perked cheeks, let me tell you. I'd like to live with you and wear your ass as a hat for all eternity.” (If that happened to me I’d be embarrassed forever)

POV: You’re Stan and you just said you love Kyle’s juicy ass in front of the whole 3rd grade class

The first time Stan’s mom and dad get a divorce is in S02E12, way sooner than I remembered

Bebe kisses Kyle when they’re playing truth or dare in their clubhouse, probably Kyle’s first kiss. Kyle thinks it’s disgusting (despite having played ookie mouth with Kenny which is arguably more disgusting)

Bebe breaks up with Kyle and goes off with Clyde, who says “Bitchin’ 😎”. Later Clyde is with Bebe, Stan, and Wendy at the club house

Cartman and Kyle have a fist fight once again. Kyle hated Cartman way more than Stan did very early on, kind of all along really, they truly were destined to be arch enemies

Kenny has food stamps

Oh, and Cartman’s made poor jokes about Kenny and twice (I think) Kenny has punched him in retaliation in the past 2 seasons. Kenny’s family is probably a bad and violent example for him

By the way, if you’ve ever wondered what Kenny says in the theme song but never looked it up, in seasons 1-2 he sings “I like girls with big fat titties, I like girls with deep vaginas” but in the remastered versions of seasons 1-2 (which is the version I’m watching) they changed it to the season 3-5 lyrics: “I have got a ten-inch penis, use you mouth if you wanna clean it”.

When an evil twin version of Cartman says nice things, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny stare at him in horror. Stan says, “Dude, this is creepy.”

Also, the boys say dude a lot. At least Stan, Kyle, and Kenny do, Cartman not as much

Kenny’s mom hits him when he’s hogging the blanket from his brother. Kenny makes a sad face and it made me feel bad :(

When evil twin Cartman comes to give the McCormicks some supplies, Kenny’s dad asks if that was his “fat, racist, foul-mouthed friend” so Cartman clearly has a reputation

When Stan gets scared of his evil fish, he wakes Shelly up and she slaps him. Their mom sees it and says nothing

But on the other hand his mom buries a body that Stan’s fish killed because she thinks he killed it so I guess she’s not entirely a bad mom

Kenny was supposed to buy a pumpkin for Halloween but he could only afford a squash and his friends are really mean about it. The more I watch the more I feel bad for Kenny (and Stan)

Cartman kind of has a shitty friendship with Kenny. He says “I hate you Kenny” because of the squash

Kyle is really annoyed by Cartman saying “hella” all the time, nobody else is as annoyed

Evil Cartman sings a cute little song while wielding a knife: You guys / are my best friends, / through thick and thin, / we've always been together! / We're four of a kind, / having fun all day, / palling around and laughing away. / Just best friends, / best friends are we!

Stan still has his dog, Sparky, in season 2

After Stan’s fish kills Kenny, Kenny’s mom comes over to ask about her son and she’s drunk and upset. Honestly seeing Kenny die all the time makes me kind of sad

Stan says Kenny’s squash isn’t a bad little squash. Very heartwarming. The squash gets first prize at the pumpkin carving contest :)

Cartman’s grandma and extended family live in Nebraska

When the boys go to Cartman’s family to have Christmas dinner, Kenny’s dad tells him to take any leftovers and bring them back home (he does it very gently and Kenny just says “okay” and why do I care that this fake child dies all the time and barely has food at home, like why the fuck do I care so much???)

Cartman’s mom is wearing glasses when she drives. She doesn’t do it in the later seasons but maybe she has contacts

Cartman and his mom sing a road trip song for 4 hours. Kyle says “please stop” but when they ignore him, he kicks Cartman’s seat and makes Cartman hit his head

Stan has a complicated relationship with his family, he says they’re dead to him because they didn’t want him to go on a road trip to Nebraska so Stan went without telling them

Kenny doesn’t eat at the dinner table with Cartman’s family, he just shoves the food in a bag :( I feel so bad for him

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all hit Cartman after they wake in the night to make sure they’re not dreaming

Under his coat, Cartman wears a pink tank top that says BEEFCAKE. He wore it in S1E02 Weight Gain 2000

Charles Manson invites Kenny to go to a more secluded location and Kenny just says okay and goes, but honestly he should know better since he’s aware that he keeps dying

Cartman bonks his cousin Elvin on the head and gives him brain damage. Elvin gets better though

THE NEXT EPISODE IS GNOMES!!! TWEEEEEK!!!!

Token gets named when he’s put in a group with Wendy, Bebe, Clyde, and Pip. Craig’s gang is getting closer to becoming a thing!!

IT’S OUR FUCKING BOY TWEEK TWEAK BITCH YEEEEAAAH

Tweek says he’s awake at 3:30am because he can’t sleep, ever

Jesus, Tweek’s dad kind of sucks immediately. He says he might have to sell Tweek to slavery if his coffee shop goes out of business

Cartman says Kenny’s family is happy being poor and on welfare, “right, Kenny?” and Kenny says “fuck you” which is completely justified

When the underpants gnomes don’t appear, Tweek is worried he’s going insane and pulls on his hair

His parents say Tweek is jittery and anxious just because he has ADD (but the kind of severe jitteriness and anxiety Tweek has isn’t a symptom of primarily inattentive ADHD, even though people with ADHD do experience restlessness and can even have some tics and are more likely to have anxiety as a comorbid disorder than a neurotypical person is, but I mean come on, we all know Tweek’s slurping way too much coffee so even if he has ADHD beneath all that, his parents should stop giving him coffee and they definitely should not start lacing it with meth. Basically what I’m saying is that Tweek’s parents are full of shit)

Actually Tweek’s mom is kind of okay. She tells Tweek’s dad that he’s being shitty for using kids to advance his agenda. But… the agenda is against big corporations and I hate to say it but Tweek’s dad kind of has a point

Ew, the boys are giving a pro big corporations speech. That aged really poorly considering how shitty billionaires are

Aww, look at Kenny! He got scared of a crocodile that Steve Irwin is about to bother by jamming his thumb up its butthole

The boys are really excited about Steve Irwin jamming his thumb up a crocodile’s butthole

Oh my God, Kyle calls Cartman a fatass penis

Kenny is a mediator between Stan and Kyle. They ask him which one found this ice man in a cave first, but Kenny just deflects and agrees with Kyle’s name suggestion (Steve) for the ice man

I kind of like Dr. Mephesto. I’m glad he came back for Fractured But Whole

Stan and Kyle are having a terrible fight about who found the ice man. Kyle says they’re not best friends anymore and that Cartman is his new best friend and Cartman says “Sweet!”, then Stan claims Cartman as his new best friend and Cartman says “Killer!”

This prehistoric ice man episode is actually funny, I love it

Stan and Kyle are having a fight to the death

They reconcile and become best friends again. They both agree that Cartman’s a sucky best friend

Well, that was the last episode of the season. This was fun. South Park is actually a fun show

Kenny deaths:

S02E10 Kenny is in the hospital because of chicken pox. He laughs at Cartman’s joke so hard that his heart flatlines like beeeeeeeeeeeeeep

S02E11 Kenny’s head explodes after Stan and Kyle make him watch planetarium lights at a high intensity

S02E12 Kenny gets trampled in a mosh pit

S02E13 A cow impales Kenny’s head with its horn

S02E14 Ozzy Osbourne bites Kenny’s head off

S02E15 Kenny is killed by Stan’s evil fish, he gets spun in the fish tank until the water’s red

S02E16 The police shoot Kenny who came outside with a white flag during a hostage situation, then the police hit his dead body with a baton and handcuff him

S02E17 Kenny gets crushed by the underpants gnomes’ mine cart. The gnomes are horrified but Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Tweek are kinda like whatever

S02E18 Kenny gets squished underneath a conveyer belt

Onto the next season I go. I’ll watch the movie too since it was released around halfway through season 3

[mjsarcastic]

SPOILERS FOR SHAMELESS

I watch the finale of Shameless, and damn it, I'm pissed off. WTF kind of ending was that???

Where was the resolution? Why were there so many random subplots thrown in literally twenty minutes into the episode? Why is Ian and Mickey and Kev and V the only two good pairings left on the show? Are you really trying to convince me that Tami, after spending literally the ENTIRE season telling Lip they had to move out of the Gallagher house, suddenly decided it was fine if they stayed and raised a possible second baby? Did anyone even find out about Frank dying? Did they really end this amazing show slowly gone down hill by basically leaving the entire cast singing fucking Kumbaya and pretending like they weren't all about to go through a bunch of shit? What the hell kind of writing went into this episode?

Sorry about the rant, I'm just upset that this was how this show I loved so much ended. I love the cast, I love the characters (besides Tami. I want Mandy or even Sierra back,) and I love this show. But come on! I can't be the only one who agrees that this was a terrible ending to a truly amazing show.

So, to make up for it, here's my alternative:

We start out in the morgue of a hospital, where Frank lays dead on a table, and when a nearby physician asks if he had any other family, Fiona is revealed to be standing there with a frown as she replies that he did (my mom pointed out that she was probably still his emergency contact even after Fiona left, and I agree.) Later, at Frank's wake, and after a reunion between Fiona and her siblings where she has to reveal the news, there's a small get together at the Alibi where Frank had been cremated and put in an empty bottle of whiskey that sits on a little table, and all the Gallagher's are there and give small speeches.

Liam is the most distraught out of all of them, and he finally stands up for himself and tells the gang that Frank cared for him more then they ever had, and he announces he had been accepted into a STEM school in, like, California or something and heads off because this kid deserves better, but of course he makes up with his family then heads off using his cut of the house money made from selling the house.

Speaking of, Lip stills manages to sell the house to that Shelby guy and invests in opening a bike shop with Brad and some of their old coworkers, and there happens to be an apartment for rent above said garage he rents out with the promise to Tami that she, him, Fred, and their possible new baby would be in a nice house by the end of the year. Yada, yada, I hate the pairing but it's pretty much too late to change it, so go with it.

Debbie, unfortunately, doesn't realize that her new girlfriend what's-her-name is basically her Jimmy-Steve and goes to El Paso with her, bringing Franny along, which is pretty unfortunate but there isn't enough room in the episode for Debbie to realize she jumped back into a relationship way too soon.

Ian and Mickey, my favorite pairing on the show, pretty much have the same storyline as in the episode with the discussion of kids and such included. I moved their anniversary up to a bit later, since my idea includes a short few month time skip, so bare with me here. Just know that they still had the anniversary party in the Alibi.

Carl decided to buy the Alibi as suggested in the show, and a few months later, there's a reopening where everyone attends including Fiona, who stayed to help, and Kev and V, who had flown back with their girls to attend the reopening before they officially moved to Kentucky and never looked back. Debbie isn't there, I honestly wouldn't expect her to be, but Liam is and so is Lip and Tami, and due to the success of Lip and Brad's bike shop, the pair were planning on renting a house soon where they could raise Fred AND their new baby...sarcastic yaaay. Fiona plans to go back on her travels later that night, Liam and Kev and V plan to leave to their seperate places the next day, as do Lip and Tami, while Carl stays and acts as a cop and a bar owner. There's a painting of Frank with a glass of beer raised and a smile on his face that Carl had commissioned.

And as the camera zooms away from the bar, as the Gallagher's all pour out and begin to go their seperate ways while a recording of them singing the same song in the real finale plays, the new name of the Alibi is revealed to be called "Frank's."

Finally, at the end, Frank stands on the beach in front of a barrel fire like how the series started, and he says the same thing he said in the real finale before he drinks from a bottle of beer, makes a toast to the audience by saying, "And to, you glorious bastards, for watching the Gallagher's suffer for your amusement for the past ten years. Here's to you, you motherfuckers!" And the camera zooms out away from him as the song finishes, and the credits roll for the last time.

Bonus credits scene: Tommy and Kermit sit at the new Alibi and stare at the painting of Frank as Kermit asks if the painting would follow him like the Mona Lisa, and when he tests it out, the whiskey bottle full of Frank's ashes that sits on a shelf under the painting falls and breaks into pieces, and Tommy and Kermit look at each other with the thought that Frank now haunted the place, and then, it cuts to black.

There it is; my alternate plot. Don't like it? Well, it's not canon, so move on with your life and deal with the real ending like the rest of us have to.

GOODBYE SHAMELESS. THANKS FOR ALL THE GOOD TIMES, AND THE BAD TIMES!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤

[well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now]

"Chasing Stars" fic?

TW: BODY HORROR (sorry anon but it's like really fluffy if you just ignore the demons looking demonic part)

Different first meeting AU! The Fall happens later while MC is already alive AU!

LONG POST!

MC is studying to be a professional (wildlife) photographer (I've explained why this is my hc before) and as part of a project they are staying at a friend's cottage in the middle of the countryside for a week or two during their break.

One night they see a shooting star, its exact path is followed just a bit later by another (they seem extremely close to earth), then there's two more, almost next to each other, going in a different direction. Two more going in two seperate directions and they're sure there weren't any reports of a meteor shower... The last one is so close that they actually yelp and try to duck back inside when it passes, burning a fiery trail. They feel the impact on the ground when it hits the earth, somewhere in the woods.

And then they're running towards it, their curiosity has always been their biggest weakness. They're running towards a big crater at the centre of a clearing, only a small part in the back of their brain notices the burnt feathers on the ground and the smell of charred flesh. It's only when they get to the edge of the crater do they realise whatever is in there is definitely not a rock.

Rather it's some creature. And their heart is pounding and they're pretty sure they're hallucinating and the smell of burnt flesh is now pretty hard to ignore.

It's vaguely human shaped but much larger. Its feet are sharp bird like talons, its legs are bent in such a way that it would not be possible for it to stand up straight without hunching and its hands are spindly and tipped with long white claws. It's got a pair of large, mangled, burnt wings with only a few white feathers clinging desperately to them. Its skin is burnt to the point of being a pitch black and they can see more burnt feathers along its shoulders, there also seem to be smoldering vacant holes along its sides and back. Its hair seems to be the same grey-white downy fluff of a baby bird and its body is covered in splashes of some sort of thick glittery gold substance.

It's facing away from them making a loud keening sound and trying to curl itself into a tighter ball. They take a step back, maybe to run screaming, maybe to check themself into a hospital, maybe to gather their wits before they lowered themself into the crater.

Whatever it is the creature stiffens at whatever noise imperceptible to the human ear that their step made. It slowly turns towards them. The flesh on the lower part of its face is burnt off showing a full mouth of long gleaming fang like teeth. But that's not what catches their attention. Instead it's the eyes, surrounded by what looks like undamaged human skin. Even with the slitted pupils they look painfully human and terrified.

The creature growls when it sees them, low in its chest as its back tenses as if it was seconds away from darting (not that they think it can). 

And instead of running for their goddamned life like any rational human would MC is slowly lowering themself to their knees at the edge of the crater. Talking to it in a soft gentle voice, like they would a stray cat or rabbit that had been hurt/spooked.

"It's okay...look I'm not going to hurt you,,,,I'm going to - fuck what am i doing- I'm going to help you okay? I'm going to - going to go get my truck and some water and rags and we'll get you cleaned up okay,,,,,just please wait here I'll be right back"

Whatever it -he?- is it's definitely intelligent. It's still slightly snarling but they're almost sure it understood them. So they get up and slowly back away and then they're turning and sprinting. Loading the back of their pick up with blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest and grabbing their first aid kit and opting out of taking actual water they instead take wet wipes and food, a proper lamp and a bottle of water.

Then while driving (as we've established MC is v stupid pls don't ever do this) they frantically Google up how to fix broken wings and treat burn wounds also can birds grow up to be 8 feet? How big is an ostrich? What are the odds of an ostrich falling out of the sky?

When they get back to the clearing, the thing is still there and curls up into a tighter ball when it sees them and it watches them with suspicious eyes but it doesn't growl.

Grabbing some of their supplies they sit back on the edge of the crater and ask whether they can come closer. It growls. They sit back down and talk to it - him? - softly. They tell their name and ask for his. They tell him what they are doing here and asks what he is doing here. They tell him they don't have any living family and ask if there's someone out there looking for him. He keens at this and they immediately apologise. They tell him about the photos they have taken and roll the water bottle towards him. They are not sure what they expect but when he (despite struggling with his long claws) opens it with a practiced movement they aren't surprised.

They ask him if they can come closer, he growls and they apologise and sit back down. They talk about more things, stories and movies. They trace the stars and tell him any stories they know about them. They ask him if he's an ostrich. He growls. They laugh.

While their eyes are on the sky he slowly drags himself up from the crater towards them, they don't hear him despite how big he is but they do notice him out of the corner of their eyes. He sits by them and they keep talking, ignoring the heat radiating off him. 

Softly he coos before placing his fuzzy head on their lap and for a minute they're frozen in place before he growls and shifts more until they start running their hand through his hair. They feel two bumps on the top of his head and wonder if he had hit his head on the way down.

Eventually with the sun just starting to peak out they manage to get him standing up, sliding their shoulder under one of his arms and hobbling over to the pick up. He's a lot lighter than he looks. They get him settled in the back and cover him with blankets and drive back to their cottage thankful that the small town centre is a bit away from them. They talk loud enough that he'd hear them the whole time

There's a bit of a struggle getting him through the door and when they (stupidly) go to fold his wings which he hasn't been moving much he rounds on them, teeth bared and arm up to strike. They both end up flinching and then he's ducking his head and not meeting their eyes and they talk him through it as they fold his wings, and wince at the pained whining sounds

They move all the furniture in the living room to the sides and put down two of the blankets and get him sitting in the middle.

They aren't sure what to do about the burnt skin, it looks beyond repair and somehow like any rawness from when they first saw him had healed into a hard thick layer, he also didn't seem to mind when they touched him. So again walking him through their steps out loud, they dip a rag in a bowl of cool water and work it along his body. The gold substance has dried a bit and flakes off when they wet it, it reminds them a bit of dried blood but there are no visible wounds/scars/damage underneath it.Whatever it came from, whoever bled gold, it wasn't him.

The holes along his body look worryingly like what they'd imagine empty eye sockets would look.

They card their fingers through his feathers, gently plucking out anything that's loose (it's most of them). After that they rub an aloe vera ointment on the places where the burns seem the worse. While they do all this he watches them as much as possible, but immediately turns around if they catch his eye.

The wings. The wings are a problem. They are frantically scrolling through their phone reading articles while a YouTube video about splinting a wing plays on their laptop but they have no idea where to start or how to splint it or with what for that matter and whether he'd accidentally rip them to shreds if they tried to and actually they're pretty sure he's watching the video on their laptop and huh. So they talk to him, they tell him the problem and they ask him if it would just heal like his burns did if they set the bone (maybe it won't heal properly but maybe at least it won't cause him pain - they tell him this too) and he's watching them with bright, considering eyes and they're spiraling a bit and rambling and then he's nodding his head and rolling his eyes and turning his back to them. 

They set the bones and wrap them up as tightly as they can, he whimpers and whines and squirms but he digs his claws into the pillows instead of into them

Once they are done they bring the rest of the blankets and pillows to the floor (with his wings he'd be too big for the bed), giving him water and food (all they have is cup noodles but he doesn't seem to mind). After instructing him to sleep on his front they go flop on their bed and immediately lose consciousness.

Hours later (in the evening) they wake up and walk into their living room and SCREAM BECAUSE HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK THAT WASN’T A DREAM WTF WTF WTF WHY IS HE SCREAMING TOO

After their inevitable breakdown which isn't made any better because it happens simultaneously with his inevitable breakdown. They decide (the next day morning and fuck their sleep schedule is fucked) to deal with things one day at a time. 

The next week is all about cute bonding and shenanigans.

Healing is an accelerated process that only takes a few days but it's not a complete job.

The burnt skin heals into a pitch black shiny sort of leathery skin, with the skin healed they can see white markings along his front and back.

The last of the feathers fall out and new ones start growing back in. Unlike the previous ones these are a shiny black and remind them of crow feathers, they come up all through his legs, at the base of his wings, and a few along his shoulders/arms. To stop him from scratching at them they use a warm damp cloth to ease the irritation (when they'd initially just given him the cloth it had resulted with a lot of grumbling and huffing on his part until they'd taken the cloth with a roll of their eyes and swatted at his head - they'd immediately frozen because wtf was that he could probably realistically eat them but he'd only responded with a playful shove).

The bumps on his head turn out to be horns, that he's constantly trying to get them to scratch at.

The sockets and the missing skin on the lower half of his face don't heal & they should probably be more disturbed by it but for some reason they don't see it as anything too strange, it's just another part of their odd impromptu roommate.

The wings take the longest to heal and their bare skeletal form now looks more like bat wings than bird wings.

By the third day the tips of his horns are poking through his head and they distantly wondered while scratching around them if he was one of those mix & match animals from Australia like the platypus. Part gazelle, part bat, part crow and part human.

Once he heals he has boundless restless energy and is always skittering around the cottage, knocking things over like some large cat. (Part tiger?)

They have to convince him to let them file his nails so that the floor doesn't get scraped up

He's always talking. Even if they don't understand him and his words sound more like bird noises it's still him talking. If they don't listen or look distracted he'll caw at them loud and angrily.

He's very clingy and very warm. By the end of the week they find themself spending more time in the nest in their living room than in their own bed.

They don't even notice that stuff has been going missing until they one day go to kick some of the blankets outta the way and end up stubbing their toe on something hard. Underneath the blanket is a little treasure trove of shiny things from coins to the caps of pens.

He comes along with them whenever they go out to the woods with their cameras.

He seems determined to survive on cup noodles alone and honestly personality wise they're pretty sure he'd pass for one of the guys at their college.

They're pretty sure they walked into him crying while watching Cinderella, cuddled up under the blankets.

Wherever he's from they had technology because they once spent a whole hour staring at him and feeling like they were living through a fever dream while he hunched over their laptop and tapped away at it. He got caught to many many scams and they ended up getting a virus but it was worth it for that single image.

They're pretty sure he has some kind of system with the crows because suddenly there's a whole flock of them visiting the cottage and sitting around it and leaving more shiny things for him to add to his collection. They feed them just to be on the safe side.

He has nightmares. Things that leave him shrieking and growling and sobbing. They press as much of him as they can into their chest and vow to protect this monstrous creature from anything, even God himself

They sometimes catch him staring at the stars. They wonder if he misses whatever home he came from.

He avoids mirrors or any reflective surfaces. Goes so far as to flinch away from them. They preen his feathers and call him 'Pretty Bird', he grumbles and huffs and mumbles something that they think probably means 'Not a bird!' they cackle and tell him he's the prettiest ostrich they've ever seen, he shoves them and they shove back and soon they're playfully wrestling on the ground. He makes sure to be careful of his claws/talons

The first time they realise his marks glow in the dark they nearly have a stroke

He ignores them for a whole hour when they laugh after finding out he is afraid of horror movies. 

Their hands are running through his hair and scratching at the base of his horns while he is curled up around them, his tail (something which like his horns hadn't been there when they first met him and honestly they feel like they're missing some sort of symbolism here) wrapped around the calf of their leg. At first they think he is growling but have to stifle a laugh, lest he ignore them again, once they realise he is purring.

They call him Star purely because that's what they thought he was and he acts like he hates it but they've seen that small stretch of human skin on his face flush at it.

No one in town saw a meteor shower.

They're not sure what they are gonna do with him, not after their two weeks end but they know for a fact they're not leaving him

Both MC & Mammon are dumb af and don't realise how dangerous the other technically could be to them

One and a half weeks later there's a knock on their door and they're pushing him towards the back of the house before they go to open it.

There's probably the most beautiful man they've ever seen at the door and they're blushing because wtf.

He's dressed incredibly well and they're pretty sure they've never seen him at the town, they take a peak over his shoulder and there's no vehicle behind him. Looking closer at him, he looks tired with bags under his eyes.

"I'm looking for my brother" he says and they're blinking because they have no idea what to say to that. The guy almost looks expectant like they're supposed to come out and say that yeah actually they know exactly where his brother is. And they're opening their mouth to actually apologise to him when there's a loud noise behind them and the man's eyes drift past them and widen.

They're panicking 'cause they know exactly what they'll see when they turn around and when they do turn he's charging towards them and the stranger and they're yelping and jumping out of the way while screaming at him not to attack the guy wtf wtf wtf.

His body collides with the guy's and they both stumble out of the door frame at the impact and they are scrambling after the two of them expecting blood and guts. But instead their shooting star is purring loudly, tail wagging, clinging on to the stranger with a death grip and his face buried in the man's neck.

The guy is somehow managing to carry the whole weight of him and is clutching at the feathers on his back with just as much of a death grip.

Maybe one of them's adopted?

The man catches their eyes and his eyes glint red and his mouth twists in the beginning of a snarl but then their roommate is shifting in his grip and murmuring something and the guy's face is softening for a split second before it hardens again and he whacks the other over the head.

The two speak in soft murmurs but they catch parts of the man's words "Father", " Diavolo", "Lilith", "worried", "human body", "Wrath", " family", "Mammon"

He's nodding his head at the man then before disentangling himself from his (older?) brother and turning to them. He takes a few steps towards them and the man says in a warning tone, "Mammon".

He ignores his brother and walks up to them

"Guess your name's Mammon, huh?"

His eyes scrunch up in a way they know means he's smiling. 

"It's cute. Suits you."

And he's blushing and huffing and they're looking at his eyes that are still so human and suddenly they're hugging him tightly and he's hugging them back and they're squeezing their eyes shut and burying their face in the soft feathers at his shoulder.

"I'll miss you, try to stay out of trouble"

He huffs again and squeezes them gently.

They open their eyes wondering what the hell they're doing standing outside in the cold morning in just their pyjamas.

They walk back inside the cottage which for some reason seems much larger and emptier than it was earlier. There's a large bundle of blankets and pillows in the middle of the living room and they have no idea when they did that, they try to kick some of it away and end up stubbing their toe. Under the blankets is a large shiny pile of junk. Were they drunk last night?

They finish the rest of their two weeks at the cottage. They clean up the blankets and spend the nights in a bed that remains freezing even when they turn up the heater.

They go through the pictures they took over the last week and a half. There's some good ones but none that stand out. Nothing interesting or special

They feed the crows that frequently come to their window. 

When it's time to leave they get the biggest box they can and fill it with all the junk that they'd found under the blankets. The box sits at the back of their closet when they go back home

They manage to finish all of their studies during the next couple of years and somehow manage to cover all their student debt without any problems (their friends insist that they must have made a deal with the devil to achieve it).

They take freelance jobs as a professional photographer while they work retail part time. Somehow they always seem to have enough money to eat more than just cup noodles and they live in a pretty ok apartment.

They've also taken up driving away from the city to watch the stars during the weekends

Life is good. Normal. 

And then one day they're falling, ass first, into another world and meeting the most beautiful man they have ever seen.

His eyes widen a bit in something like surprise when he sees them but it's gone in a second and then he's telling them they're going to be part of an exchange program between three different realms and he's hoisting them on his brother.

And then they're begging him - Lucifer, that's his name, Lucifer - they're begging Lucifer to take them instead because one phone call with this Mammon guy and he sounds like a dick.

But Lucifer's shaking his head and he looks way too amused.

Then a loud is voice is coming from behind them, complaining about being lumped with a human.

And they're turning around to get a look at the asshole who was now responsible for their life and he screeches to a stop in front of them.

Eyes -familiar eyes, so very familiar- wide and surprised and confused, the anger dissolving from his face as his mouth opens and closes soundlessly.

And then he's saying their name, softly, softer than anyone has ever said it before.

This is posted on AO3 along with the other fake fic outlines/summaries! The link to it is pinned on my blog, feel free to leave a comment cause I feed off that shit :D

[resilientdolan]

Drown (G.D) - part 11

A/N: wtf i hate this. i picture it perfectly but my writing skill do be saying “SIKEEE”

Word-count: 1.9k

Summary: Grayson finally grew Bianca’s trust back and he got to see the secret she’s been keeping from everyone all this time. One thing he knew; he’s not even ready for it.

T/W: violence, abuse

Tags: @bingexdolan @grantsairforce @prettyboydolan @kyaaawritings @3ooda97 @baby-grayson @ryxgrantdolan @foxglovedolan @evergreendolan @goldenndolan @nikesbailey @soledadgray @sosweetgrethan @twinfinitydolan @333dolans

———————————————————————

Grayson shoves his drinking bottle into his gym bag and waves his hand at the man with the blue cap, standing three feet away from him.

“Good game today, Dolan! See you on Thursday!,” Coach Martin waves his hand back at him. It’s Monday afternoon and Grayson just finished his lacrosse game with his team. The other team mates have already left, and Ethan couldn’t join today’s game because he has a project to do for his English class, so Grayson is the last team member to leave. He had to do a little discussion about the game with Coach Martin.

He walks back into the school building to grab some books that he left in his locker. There will be a physics exam the day after tomorrow, so he needs to study. Not on his own, but of course with a little magic from his little helper, Bianca.

Talking about Bianca, he still wonders about what is wrong with her; why she looked so scared while talking to him. He swears he could see the fright in her eyes that day. There must be a reason behind it. Did Declan forbid her to talk to him? Or was there something wrong with what he said? Grayson never knows.

The hallway’s completely empty. No wonder, it’s nearly 6 pm. Grayson quickly grabs his books that he needs from his locker, and that’s exactly when he hears someone screaming.

“Nooo! Help!,” again, that voice echoes.

Grayson looks around him to find the source of the voice, but there’s no one in the hallway. He thought he’s the only one walking around, but he’s wrong. Out of nowhere, he feels a pair of hands gripping onto his arm tightly.

“Can you please help— wait, Gray?”

“Bianca? What are you doing here?,” his eyes go wide as he finds her running down the hallway.

Was it her?

She shakes her head as she looks around once again, like she’s looking for someone else other than them walking around the school.

“Bianca, the screaming— was it you?,” Grayson tries to guess.

Bianca quickly turns around to face him, looking up at him with teary eyes as she speaks. “G—Gray, can we leave?,” she sniffles.

“No, you’re not leaving!,” there comes another voice from the end of the hallway.

Declan Hayes.

“Declan, leave me alone, please,” Bianca sobs as she tugs onto Grayson’s arm a little tighter. “I don’t want to,” she screams, hiding behind Grayson.

“You heard her,” Grayson adds.

“Dolan, stay away. I’m talking to my girlfriend,” Declan tries to shove him off, but Grayson drops his gym bag and quickly tackles him onto the floor.

“She said no, fuck—,” Grayson yells, but Declan cuts him off with a punch right on Grayson’s cheek.

“I said, I’m talking to my girlfriend,” Declan yells back in return.

This man is really pissing Grayson off. His girlfriend clearly said no to whatever they’re talking about, and he’s still forcing her? And the fact that the girl is Bianca, his bestfriend— also his crush, makes him furious that he slams his fist onto Declan’s nose.

“Grayson!,” Bianca kneels down to wrap her arms around her bestfriend’s torso, trying to pull Grayson back, but she’s too weak to stop him from attacking Declan. Grayson continues to hit Declan mercilessly. “Gray, stop!,” she speaks between her sobs. But the time Grayson stops, Declan hits him back.

“D—Declan, I—I’m breaking up with you,” Bianca sobs as she tries to pull Grayson away once again. She just wants to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re not breaking up with me, bitch!,” Declan yells. Grayson turns his gaze back to Declan once again, shooting him with an angry glare.

What kind of boyfriend would call his girl a bitch?

He remembers that night when he called her bitch. He fucked up; he knows she ain’t one. She’s just a sweet little Bianca. But this man— her boyfriend really had the audacity to call her so?

“No one’s calling Bianca a bitch,” with that, Grayson slams another punch onto Declan’s face before he gets up. “You heard her. She’s no longer your girlfriend,” Grayson yells one more time before he makes his way towards Bianca.

Bianca, who remains silent as she stands there, shifts her gaze from Declan, to Grayson. Her hands are tugging on the edge of her cardigan. Grayson picks his gym bag up from the floor and wraps an arm around her shoulders to bring her close to him. In instance, Bianca wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest.

“Shh, let’s go home, yeah?,” he coos. He can never explain how much it breaks his heart to see her like this; crying, looking completely lost, and scared as hell. Bianca nods her head slowly.

“Can you walk?,” he asks her. He surely noticed that she walked with a limp earlier when she tried to stop him from beating the shit out of Declan.

“It k—kinda hurts,” she whines.

Without talking much, Grayson carefully scoops her into his arms, picking her up bridal style before he walks out to the parking lot with Bianca crying in his arms. He carefully sits her on the passenger seat before he runs to the other side to hop into the driver seat.

Bianca continues to cry as Grayson puts her seatbelt on, so he takes her hand in his. His other arm is wrapped around her shoulders. He leans in closer to press a gentle kiss onto her temple as he coos, “Bianca, hey, you’re safe with me. It’s okay, Bumblebee. It’s okay.”

It’s been a quite long time ever since he called her so. Bumblebee was a nickname that Grayson gave her back when they were younger. And only Grayson called her that. No one else, not even his twin brother.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Bumblebee,” he continues to comfort her, this time, he’s pulling her into a hug. “I’m staying with you, shall we go home now? You can talk to me at home, yeah?,” Grayson suggests, which replied with a slight nod from Bianca.

So he quickly starts his Porsche, and speeds to her place right away. He keeps her hand in his as he drives only to make sure that she’s okay. Sometimes, he takes a quick glance at her to check on her, only to find her sitting in silence— sniffling sometimes, while looking out of the window.

His heart hurts for his Bumblebee.

———————————————————————

“Oh my God, Bianca, what happened?!,” she nearly screams as she watches Grayson walking into the house, carrying Bianca, who looks like a complete mess, im his arms. She quickly makes her way to see her daughter, only to make sure she’s okay. Grayson remains silent, not really sure about what to tell.

Bianca gives her a weak smile as she shakes her head, “Mom, I’m okay, I fell off the stairs and sprained my ankle,” she lies. “Thank God Grayson was there,” Bianca adds.

“Oh my, Grayson, thank you!,” Bianca’s mom sighs in deep relief, and gives Grayson a little pat on his arm. Grayson nods his head awkwardly.

“I’ll be okay... I just need to rest, okay?,” Bianca convinces her mom. She gives her a quick nod and Grayson carefully heads upstairs, making his way to her bedroom.

He kicks the door open slowly, and carefully lays her down on the bed. Bianca remains silent, but she gently grabs his wrist as she looks up at him.

“Gray?,” she calls for him weakly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?,” he coos softly as he looks back at her.

Bianca motions her head towards the open door as she mumbles, “Please stay with me? But first, can you please shut the door?”

“I’m staying with you, Bi, don’t worry,” he answers as he shuts the door close behind him. “What’s wrong?,” he sits right on the edge of her bed, eyes never leaving her.

Bianca keeps her mouth shut as she slowly unbuttons her cardigan. Once it’s completely unbuttoned, she tosses it onto the floor, leaving her in her floral-print mini summer dress.

“Bianca?,” he frowns as he removes his gaze from her features to the cardigan on the floor.

But she remains silent, and turns to her side, so she has Grayson facing her back. His mind’s going crazy, completely has no idea what’s going on inside her head.

“Unzip it, Gray,” she turns a bit to get a better view of his face.

“Bianca, w—what do you mean?,” he stutters.

“I said unzip it,”

“Bianca, I’m not—“

She gently grabs his hand and leads it to the zipper on her back. “Grayson, please,” she begs.

He has no choice, though he’a completely lost. So he tugs on the zipper and pulls it down slowly, just as she wished for. His eyes go wide at the view served in front of him.

Bruises all over her back. Some on her upper arms, and even her sides.

“Bianca... what the hell?,” he responds absent-mindedly.

Again, she turns a bit just so she can his face as she talks. She trembles a bit as she answers, “H—he did that, Gray...,” she stutters as hey eyes begin to water.

“Bianca, who did this?,” Grayson clenches his jaws as he shoot her an angry glare.

“He did it, Gray,” she sighs.

“Declan fucking Hayes did this?!,” he yells. Bianca scoots away for a bit, completely unprepared for Grayson’s rage. “He fucking beat you?!,” he repeats once again.

Bianca sighs. She just nods her head, as tears continue to stream down her cheeks.

“E—everytime, Gray. He wants to do it, a—and I’m not even sure. I always said no, and it t—triggered him,” she cries, burying her face in her palms. Grayson carefully wraps his arm around her, not wanting to hurt her.

“I—I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Bi,” he sighs.

“I should’ve listened!,” she groans. “I should’ve just listened to you, Gray,” she sobs, wrapping her arms around his torso as she buries her face into his chest.

“Shh, hey, hey, it’s okay, Bi. It’s okay. You didn’t know that it might happen,” he coos into her ear, moving his hand up and down her back to calm her down.

“I’m sorry, Gray...”

“No, shh, don’t be.”

“Gray—“

And he quickly cuts her off, by pressing his warm lips onto hers; once again. Another kiss they share after that night at the beach, where they confessed their feelings for each other. The kiss isn’t one kind of filled with lust, more like one intimate kiss. He even moves his hands up to cup her cheeks as they kiss.

“Bianca?,” he mumbles as soon as he disconnects his lips from her. The girl that he called looks up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Listen to me,” he clears his throat, gently brushing the pad of his thumb across her pinkish cheek as he speaks.

“What is it, Gray?”

“I feel like the biggest dumbfuck for leaving you all this time, though i know that’s what you asked. I know you’d be safe if I didn’t walk away that easy after you left me that night,”

Nothing comes out of her mouth. Grayson gently takes her hand in his as he continues.

“So, Bianca Reine, here’s my pledge; I’ll keep you safe from now on, Bumblebee. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”

And that’s exactly what she needs after all this time; someone to keep her safe.