#he's going to tell my fucking mom meme

[ask-spamton-gpory-spamgon]

[p2ii]

bongworth

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

Genuinely amazed i didn't redraw this with yuriko earlier, it pretty much fits her to a T (then again, it's probably not that hard to find a meme that could relate to a weed-smoking dog owner)

Also WOOO i'm FINALLY acknowledging the fact that gambit exists through art and not just saying "oh yeah yuriko has a dog btw"

ORIGINAL UNDER THE CUT

[toddtakefive]

btw todd’s reluctance to join the dps because he doesn’t want to read (which is then accommodated for) and is scared to put himself out there (which is also worked through) being read as todd not wanting to go AT ALL, and thus neil making the proper accommodations (“todd anderson, who prefers not to read, will keep the minutes of the meetings”) and encouraging him to step out of the box that stifles him being seen as ‘forceful’ or like he can’t take no for an answer makes me insane with rage

[comix-dogwood]

TW: w33d

It’s a funny comic I promise

He got into his dad’s stash



[starkwlkr]

Oh my, imagine you and Hugh have a teen daughter who is like 16 or something, and she goes live and just keeps talking in brainrot terms while you don’t understand what she’s saying.😭😂

ps: love your writing💗

HOT TO GO! | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for this request, it was so fun to write!! love youuuu

“And there’s my mom . . .” Olivia had walked into your room where you were doing your makeup at your vanity. She held her phone in her hand pointing it at you. “‘Mother is mothering’ I know right? She’s out here serving cunt on a Tuesday afternoon.”

Serving cunt? Did you hear that right?

You stopped applying the red lipstick on your lips and looked at your daughter. “I’m a cunt?”

Immediately the teen bursted out laughing. “No, oh my god! I didn’t mean you. You look great, that’s what I meant.”

The comments on Olivia’s instagram live were going crazy. They found it funny that their favorite actress was clueless.

natsyelena y/n is so adorable 😭

y/nupdates please tell her she’s mother

“The comments are telling you that you’re mother.” Olivia said to you. Again, you were confused.

“I know.” You reply. “I have three kids.”

Olivia chuckled. She then set her phone against the vanity mirror and posed while you continued doing your makeup. It was date night and Hugh had gotten you tickets to see Stevie Nicks perform. Olivia was heartbroken she wouldn’t be able to see her favorite singer, but Hugh promised her they would go see her at her next show as a family.

“What does that mean?” You pointed at a comment that caught your eye.

y/nstyle donatella VERSACE 💜

Olivia looked at the comment and laughed. “It’s a meme, mom. Donatella commented that on Bella Hadid’s post.”

Another comment caught Olivia’s attention.

xmenarchive SHOW HER THE JOSH HUTCHERSON EDIT

Olivia gasped then grabbed your phone since hers was on live. She searched on YouTube for the specific video and showed it to her mom eager to see her reaction. As whistle played and pictures of Josh Hutcherson appeared, a smile formed on your face.

“It’s Josh! I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“Wait what?” Olivia paused the video.

“He visited Jennifer on the set of X-men when I was visiting your dad and we hung out. Your brothers were also there too.”

“And you never told me?!” Olivia yelled. “The mom lore is insane.”

After learning more about you, the comments wanted you to react to THE Pedro Pascal, Steve Harrington, and other specific edits. Olivia gladly showed them to you.

Once you saw the Pedro edit, you giggled. “I’m going to send that to Pedro.”

“Guys, hide the fanfics!” Olivia shouted at her phone.

After coming back from the corner store with snacks, Hugh walked into your room where Olivia was teaching you the HOT TO GO! dance. He looked so interested in what you two were doing.

“You can take me hot to go!” Olivia finished the dance. “Look, the comments are saying you ate that up.”

“What the fuck?” Hugh said when he heard that.

“Guys, don’t worry I’ll teach her everything,” Olivia took the phone from the vanity and saw her dad with snacks. Some comments had recognized Hugh’s voice so they demanded Olivia to show him. “After this I better be everyone’s favorite nepo baby.”

“You’re not even my favorite nepo baby.” Hugh teased. Olivia then showed Hugh waving hello to the live.

“The viewers want me to teach you the hot to go dance.” She read some of the comments.

“No.”

“Oh ok so you hate happiness in others? I see the type of person that you are, Huge Ackman!” Olivia left her parents’ room to go continue her instagram live in her room.

Hugh stood beside you confused. “How did we raise completely different kids?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know, but I learned so many things today.”

[boosheetghostboo]

til my dog can tell when im high

smoked earlier and he was freaking tf out

sitting at my feet and whining until i picked him up so he could examine my face

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Why would you be scared of me?

Ooc Intro

My name's Lilly Darhk. I'm a daughter of Poseidon, adopted daughter of Odysseus, Penelope, and Hector anddddd Legacy of Styx(just don't ask). I'm a ✧female✧.My pronouns are she/her, fuck if I know my sexuality. I'm currently possessed by Nyx, Scylla, Styx, and Hera(how am I alive? We'll never know). A Champion of Athena(my dad's proud of me for thattt) and Achilles.

Reside in Itacha now! I used to live at Camp Half-blood though. I still go to Camp pretty often. Usually I train the newbies. More often, I just kick them down on their ass.

Keep the hellhounds away from me, or I swear to Hades, I will kill them. Sorry, the only hellhound I'm okay with is Mrs. O'Leary and I prefer staying away from her too.

Currently on a self appointed quest of getting as many bows from as many gods as I can so if you're a god or if you know a god who can give me a bow tell me please- gimmeeee.

My fatal flaw? I've been told it's my pride. I can't imagine why.

For weapons, I got two bracelets. Ones for my daggers, the other for my bows. There's a full quiver on there, too. Just flick, and there in my hand. Pretty neat.

My kill count? Monsters or mortals? Do you really want to know? Next is death count. Haven't died yet miraculously. How many times I've almost died is a whole other thing.

Key:

Nyx(purple, bold) Scylla(blue,bold) Styx(red,italic) Hera(orange,italic)

Lilly(normal)

Face Claim:

The peeps I knoww:

They, like, possess me: @primordialgoddessofnight , @werelonelydemonsfromhell , @heraaaaaaaa

Champions of: @achilles-the-greatest

My bio dad: @that-little-fucking-shit

Dad, who adopted me: @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost

Another version of the dad that adopted me that I don't like as much: @odysseus-reigning-king-of-ithaca

Other dad who looked at me and was like 'That one' (he regrets it every day): @paris-you-idiot

My mom, who was completely okay with ody adopting me and didn't question it at all(which i still find kinda weird): @penelope-is-waiting

My sister from Poseidon: @daonedaonlyskh

My other sister from Odysseus: @reigningprincesstofithaca

My psychotic adoptive brother: @reigningprinceofithaca

Other version of my brother, less insane more sad: @telemachus-of-ithaca

Other other version of my brother, but he's 12 and adorable! (And if anyone hurts him... you better hope you die before I get to you) @telemachus-is-lost

Other other other versions of my brother are 10 noww: @young-telemachus

Other other other other version of my brother and he has horrid taste in men: @the-prince-telemachus

Other other other other other version of my brother who thinks he's Shakespeare or that arrow Apollo dealt with: @ithacas-prince

Other other other other other other version of my brother except Poseidon took him or something: @taken-by-the-seas

Other other other other other other other version of my brother who..wait that isn't right... Not traumatised???? I don't know how this is possible: @youre-fatherless-im-not-hehe

Other other other other other other other other version of my brother who's 15 and just...i don't know how to feel about him if I had to kill a Tele I'd probably kill him: @another-telemachus-wont-hurt

My brother from Poseidon, who's an idiot: @forbiddensonoftheseagod

My cyclops brother, very tall, very blind and does not know what small talk is: @my-baseballs-are-humans

Ma boyfriend, who's very awesome, and if anyone hurts him, I will make sure you die a very slow death. :D @madson-of-hermes-notluke

My boyfriend's half sister(who's also my friend ig): @hispanic-child-of-hermes

Richbitches4lifeee: @if-chaos-was-a-boy

Nyx possesses this dude, too. Oh, and there's also his husband: @idontloveanybodythatsmypower

Some dude who sent me a meme to be my friend and then wrote me a song: @clown-energy-skyrocketing

Fellow Luke defender😌 @childofthewargod

There's more people I know-

Cool art of meh :3

Stuff about Lilly... (1)

Moodboard...

~~~

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth...

Something about me...

~~~

No NSFW. DNI if you're zionist, transphobic, homophobic, racist, sexist, a nazi, xenophobic, or otherwise

[redroseworks]

Shinazugawa-sensei is homophobic

(I wrote this to be silly so it's just a quick thing with little substance. Set in the Kimetsu academy au)

Genya awkwardly looked up from his homework at Sanemi. He was waiting for Sanemi to be finished with some paperwork before they went home. “I'm dating someone.” He said.

Sanemi glared at him over his paperwork. “So?”

“His name is Tanjiro Kamado.” Genya said. He knew his brother didn't like Tanjiro but his brother didn't like most people.

Sanemi sneered. “I don't want to hear about that. That's fucking gross. Keep that shit to yourself.”

Genya rolled his eyes. He knew that Sanemi wouldn't be happy to hear he was dating Tanjiro. “You're such a homophobic jerk.” Genya said, jokingly.

“Yeah. I hate gay people. They're shitty.” Sanemi said, rolling his eyes. “And I don't want to hear about your stupid so called boyfriend.”

Genya laughed quietly. Sanemi was gay himself and definitely not homophobic. “So you hate me!? Your own brother!?” He asked with an overly dramatic tone.

“Yes. Get back to doing your damn homework you stupid faggot.”

Unknown to the two eldest Shinazugawa brothers, a student (*cough* Murata *cough*) had been coming by to ask Sanemi a math related question and had overheard the two brothers' conversation.

And now said student was not a gossip but he did tell a few people about how he felt bad for Genya and word spread over the weekend that Genya was stuck with a homophobic older brother.

Granted, most people already felt bad for Genya because he was related to Sanemi. But to know that Sanemi was homophobic and Genya was gay? It was… well surprising? People weren't sure but it was fun to gossip.

On Monday, Genya couldn't help but to feel like people were looking at him. He liked to believe it was because he was holding Tanjiro's hand that morning but he had been doing it everyday last week.

Plus they were looking at him like they felt bad. It was like the archery award thing again.

By lunch it was Zenitsu who finally revealed what was going on.

“Genya, I knew your brother was a jerk but I never thought he would be homophobic.” Zenitsu said as he sat down next to Inosuke.

“Huh?” Genya looked at him, confused.

“What are you talking about?” Tanjiro asked.

“Why is the evil math teacher scared of homes?” Inosuke commented.

“I guess someone overheard your brother being homophobic towards you for dating Tanjiro. That he even called you the f word. The whole school's been talking about it.” Zenitsu explained as he started to eat.

Genya's face paled. “The whole school..?”

Zenitsu nodded. “Yeah. Did he really call you the f word?” He asked.

“Uh…” Genya was quiet for a moment. “Well… yes? But that's normal.”

“Genya, your brother shouldn't be calling you that.” Tanjiro huffed. “That's not okay!”

“For real. I know he's dick but I think there's a line.” Zenitsu agreed.

Genya sighed. “He's not homophobic. He's literally gay.”

“You can be gay and homophobic though. I've seen the memes.” Inosuke said.

Genya snorted. “But he's not. Someone probably overheard us being us and assumed the worst.”

“Oh. Good.” Tanjiro said with a smile. “I would have fought Shinazugawa-sensei if he was actually homophobic. And now that you mention it, I'm not surprised he's queer.”

Genya blushed. “Uh…” He had no idea how to respond to such a weirdly sweet and scary comment.

“Stop being gay right in front of my salad.” Zenitsu said. “...wait Shinazugawa-sensei is gay?? I thought him and Kocho-sensei were a thing?!”

“No. Well, they dated when they were in high school for like a month. I have the trauma of seeing them in the middle of fooling around one day when my mom and I took my younger siblings to the park and I forgot my phone…” Genya blushed at the memory. It was so embarrassing to think about. Him and Sanemi shared a room at the time so that was where his phone had been.

Zenitsu's face perked up. “You've seen Kocho-sensei's..”

“Finish that sentence and I'll kill you, Agatsuma.” Shinobu appeared almost as if out of nowhere.

Zenitsu nodded silently.

Shinobu looked at Genya with a smirk. “Heard that your brother was homophobic. Makes sense that he hates himself.” She said.

Genya laughed. “Wasn't it your sister that caused him to turn gay?” He sneered. Were he and Shinobu friends? Maybe. Did they share the bond of being witnesses to the weirdness that was Sanemi dating Kanae? Yes.

“At least she never fooled around with Tomika-sensei.” Shinobu said.

Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke all looked shocked by the words out of their upper classmate's mouth.

Genya nodded. “Fair enough. You got him there.”

“Tomioka and Shinazugawa..?” Tanjiro questioned.

Genya smiled at Tanjiro. “You'd find out sooner or later but yeah. They've been dating for about a year now.”

“Huh.” Tanjiro said, clearly processing it.

“Yet they still make out in empty classrooms like teenagers. Too bad someone told Murata to take some papers to Kocho-sensei in that very room.” Shinobu said with a chuckle.

“You're evil. When Sanemi finds out you're behind it, you're dead.” Genya said.

Shinobu shrugged. “Oh I doubt he'd be able to catch me.”

[willowser]

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

[lecsainz]

anything with Trevor Zegras I’m begging girl!

˒ ⌕ HOCKEY BOYFRIEND

parings: trevor zegras x hughes!reader

summary: that one where you're jack hughes' twin sister and post about your relationship with trevor on insta.

an: I've been working on this smau for TWO days because tumblr kept deleting everything I wrote when I hit return? I have no idea what was going on.

( last work || go to main masterlist )

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ynhughes I say yes, obviously 🙄

56 comments

trevorzegras fuck , I'm so in love with you.

yourbestie wait WHATS THAT??!??

⤷ ynhughes u already know luv

⤷ yourcollegebestie you didn't tell us, you sneaky!

⤷ ynhughes I did tell you! I called you seconds after we had our first kiss.

⤷ jackhughes WHAT?

⤷ lhughes_06 It's been a while, jack, relax.

⤷ jackhughes how did you know and I didn't??? I'm her twin!

⤷ lhughes_06 I'm the favorite brother 🤩.

⤷ ynhughes actually, it's quinn.

⤷_quinnhughes I KNEW IT.

trevorzegras OMG, you're my girl.

⤷ ynhughes and you're my hockey player.

⤷ jackhughes stop with this sweetness. ynhughes stop being bitter, jack.

jackhughes can’t believe that u aren’t single anymore.

⤷_quinnhughes me too.

⤷ lhughes_06 same.

⤷ ynhughes you guys are jealous 😤

yourcollegebestie your ex liking the post 😅

⤷ yourbestie lol 😂

⤷ ynhughes going to block him now, I forgot about him 🥴

⤷ yourbestie he's going to want to fight trevor.

⤷ yourcollegebestie he's calling the UMICH football team to help.

⤷ yourbestie 'cause no UMICH guy can date you now that you were my exgirlfriend.'

⤷ lhughes_06 that guy was a suck, I warned you.

⤷ ynhughes well, that's why he's an ex.

edwards.73 now it all makes sense why she didn't want to hang out with us anymore, ditching friends and parties for a MAN.

⤷ markestapa what a letdown y/n/n 🤧

⤷ ynhughes he's not just any man, he's MY MAN.

⤷ lhughes_06 what do you mean you guys hang out without me and with my sister?

⤷ lucca.fantilli she's cooler than you.

⤷ lhughes_06 NO SHE AREN’T.

⤷ rutgermcgroarty yes, she is!

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ynhughes weekend at the lake house with the ice boys.

67 comments

rutgermcgroarty jack having more photos than her boyfriend 🤣.

⤷ ynhughes he's the favorite brother of the week.

⤷ lhughes_06 u said that I was.

⤷ ynhughes that was before you ate all of my chocolate stash.

yourbestie and no photos for us to make memes of them?

⤷ ynhughes unfortunately, none.

trevorzegras 7 million smiles, and yours is my favorite.

⤷ ynhughes I love you, ice man 🩵

jackhughes I want a credit for the photo I took.

⤷ ynhughes I want credit for all the non-hockey photos you post then 😙

yourbestie miss you girls 🤧

⤷ yourcollegebestie you should have come too 🥺

⤷ ynhughes let's go out just us next summer 💃💃💃

markestapa you don't post a picture with us.

⤷_quinnhughes we're more important 😎

edwards.73 are you holding a hamster?

⤷ ynhughes yessss, his name was mr. bernard.

⤷ rutgermcgroarty aww, how cute.

⤷ lhughes_06 what an ugly name.

⤷ jackhughes ugly guy is you, not the mr. bernard

⤷ ynhughes and that's why my favorite brother is jack, not you, luke.

⤷ jackhughes thanks sis love you too, y/n/n.

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ynhughes missing hawaii and my boy who's now all about hockey. why did I start dating a hockey player anyway?

82 comments

trevorzegras cause you love me.

yourroommate still can't believe you guys traveled in secret.

jackhughes stop kissing my twin sister.

⤷ trevorzegras sorry, jack, but NO.

_quinnhughes mom sends kisses and asks how's college.

⤷ ynhughes sent a thousand back to her and tell her that college is amazing (I cry every night 😅

yourbestie how is it possible you don't look bad in ANY photo??

⤷ ynhughes LOOK WHO'S TALKING, I've never seen a bad shot of you.

lhughes_06 stop making me feel alone 😭

trevorzegras missing those vacations too

⤷ ynhughes i missing you more 😕

yourcollegebestie stop stalling and let's go out now, we're already late for the party, pretty!

⤷ ynhughes putting on my heels now!

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thehughesgirl at least he plays against my brothers, but that's the least of it.

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trevorzegras you are art, you are the stars and the sky, you are everything.

⤷ thehughesgirl I’m so in love with you.

[meguchi512]

assigning behaviors I've noticed in people to pjsk characters:

tsukasa: writes his name EVERYWHERE. his desk at school has "tsukasa" "tsukasa" "tsukasa" "tsukasa" written all over it, his notebooks too and even his classmates' notebooks (from a classmate)

shizuku: says "oh, madonna!" instead of "oh god" (from my italian grandpa)

saki: tsukasa rides a bike and saki sits on the handlebar & every time they have to stop they fall off but they just get up and go on like nothing's happened (from an old friend)

mizuki: accidentally sends "penis shaped messages" and immediately points it out (me)

ena: is so fucking done with mizuki's penis messages (my friends)

kanade: "uhh i think I'm forgetting something? oh well it probably wasn't important" hasn't drank water since yesterday (me again)

rui: extremely verbose, to the point where everyone around him thinks he's some sort of philosophical genius but in reality he's just saying dumb shit and articulating it intelligently (my italian grandpa again so sorry)

an: sends her friends "hot milfs in your area" messages pretending to be a bot because silly and immediately gets banned ( @robinoullea literally)

airi: wants to be supportive but types way too quickly ( @robinoullea trying to say "10/10")

emu: says the most deranged things in roblox chats and manages to not get censored while her friend (nene) can't even go one sentence without "########" ( @harukaisu )

nene, trying to tell tsukasa to reset his roblox avatar because he got stuck: uhhh kill yourself (me) (I'M SO SORRY)

minori: tries to download a pin and accidentally sends it to a random person and dies of embarrassment (everyone. no one is safe from Pinterest's AWFUL interface)

ichika: goes into a store. gets an ingredient. goes back home. goes back. gets an ingredient. goes back home. repeat until she's got everything to make dinner when it's already 11pm (my forgetful mom)

mafuyu: has the most DERANGED dreams I'm not even kidding ( @robinoullea when he had that one dream where he sent me a tiktok meme of Richard Watterson saying the names of popular pornstars with them flashing on screen for a second each. I've cried real tears about this btw)

kohane: has a chicken farm in minecraft but she's so attached to them that she can't kill any of them for food so they just keep reproducing and in turn the server keeps getting laggier. eventually a creeper explodes right next to it and she throws herself off a mountain (me)

haruka: uses the default pfp which is also the pfp that shows when you get blocked by someone. she also turns her phone off often (which causes messages to not get sent until it's on) so minori always panics and sends her messages to make sure she's not blocked (classmate)

akito: makes gagging noises on purpose because it makes ena gag too and get VERY annoyed and he finds it funny (classmate)

toya: unintentionally causes a lot of fights in vbs regarding what the best way to make coffee is (my whole friend group) (except me i do it on purpose)

honami: whenever someone tags her in l/n's group chat she heroically says "who calls for my help?" ( @robinoullea )

shiho: doesn't have the heart to tell honami how funny it is when she does that (not me i always make sure to mention it)

[c-kiddo]

tmn redraws of 2 legendary comics . i was so tired when i drew thesee that it felt like my arms were falling off

[ID: two crudely drawn digital comics based on meme ones but with Critical Role chracters. first image, first panel, is Fjord saying to Nott, who is drawing herself as a anthro mouse, "what is that? is that your fucking fursona. thats cringe". second panel is her yelling "you're cringe". third panel is fjord looking sad as nott continues drawing. fourth panel is fjord crying in a bathroom. the second image is a four panel comic of stick-figure Caduceus smoking a bong with Sprinkle in the room, then Sprinkle walking out and then down the stairs. in the last panel caduceus has red eyes and is saying "he is going to tell my fucking mom". end ID.]

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

[punkeropercyjackson]

My audhd brain won't stop telling me to do a full breakdown of the parallels between Percy and Hobie so i will.Alright,let's do this one last time!

Troubled but good kids

Afro-dominican New Yorker/Jamaican-English(NY and England are where punk first started)

Anarchists,proffessional instigators,always helping out around communities(it's implied Percy participated in Rachel's protests and charities with her)and looking out for the little guy

So they're actual punks instead of just EdgyTM douchebags because they wanna do the right thing no matter what

No masking game autistics

Trans femmes who come across as masc only to normies

Chillaxed and super kind and love cute shit and people but also have major street credit,a huge edge and strong as fuck backbones and the reason they're so kind is that their childhood was beyond brutal so as they grew up they decided to be the positive older figure in younger people's lives they didn't take to have to the point they turned into Team Dad's

The EXACT same sense of humor

Blue-coded

Alt music lovers

Expressions are always either super intimidating or meme worthy goofy

Pet supernatural dog(Spidermutt and Mrs O'Leary)

Widely regarded as the coolest ever in-universe and correctly so but they're huge dorks when you get down to it but that only makes them even cooler-They were this cool the whole time

6'something with guitarist hands and described as so attractive it's shocking

Go by a nickname instead of their full name and have a common black surname

Oldest and most experienced heroes in their main casts

Hobie's dad is a deadbeat who left him as a baby to do supernatural shit

'I'm not a role model' 'I hate the a.m,i hate the p.m,i hate labels' 'I don't believe in consistency' / 'Was i a troubled kid?Yeah,you could say that' 'I AM impertenent' 'The sea does not like to be restrained'

'Calling yourself a hero makes you self-mythologizing'Hello???????????

Gwen is the Hazel to Hobie's Percy.She's a younger trans girl with a ghost motif who's a pastel ray of sunshine and runs her mouth as much as they do and has a dead mom,an abusive corrupted figure dad and their own impressive experiences in heroism before meeting them

Nico is another teen Ghostkid who Percy gifted a Ramones shirt and gave shelter to multiple times when he was homeless because Hades/Pluto is as much of a fucking cunt as George Stacy is.Nico is also a Miles kinnie because he's an optimistic softboy who's nerdy,a fast food lover and a lot stronger than he gives himself credit for and Percy is the big brother mentor to him the fandom thinks Hobie is to Miles(Nah fr Hobie and Miles are ambigious but Percy's canonically a grown ass man and Nico's Miles' age,P*rcicos pack it up and get over that your ship only works for transfem Percy proof)

Karl=Jason(the cooler St*ve R*gers,the actual voice of reason on the team but just as unhinged as the rest of them,very nice guy vibes and Hobie's righthand),Riri=Annabeth(Black girl genius who takes no shit but is still written as a person instead of a stereotype)and Mattea=Clarisse(red-coded,rowdy tomboy and war paint)

Mayday and Margo are basically just Estelle and Rachel,Jessica makes a pretty convincing Sally and Miguel reminds me of Poseidon but especially when he's interacting with Hobie

Sarcastic troublemaker smiles i've always found endearing(Rip to Annabeth but i'm different)(Also for Hobie i mean this platonically)

Immaculate rizz that's mostly unintentional but reaches critical levels when on purpose

Cocky asf and self-loathing at the same time

That one scene of Hobie leaving Gwen a Watch with the 'In case it don't work out' note with a lil doodle of him on it after getting her dad's ass/Percy sending the Olympians Medusa's head in a box after slaying her with a note saying 'Best wishes' to spite them

Goofy ahh who are nonetheless taken seriously cause Watch Out

They even both have terrible singing voices

And technically not the same thing but Hobie's also pink-coded so they're cotton candy colors and with Percy's white streak they can be the trans flag too!!

[babybluebex]

my latest dom “fantasy,” whatever you wanna call it, has been ur the actor who plays niece elise in the holdovers and you two like each other when filming but since your part is small you don’t see each other till a streaming of the movie when you reconnect. 🤗

oh my god stop the presses this is CUTE

you're kinda joking together and laughing inbetween takes, but you're both nervous because you have to kiss and neither of you have ever done that before (kissed other people, yes, but on screen, for the whole world to see, never) but dom's a sweetheart and you do the scene and it goes off without a hitch, and you're maybe a little disappointed when alexander payne says they got the shot they needed and that you don't need to do it again

and like yeah, you're only on set for like 1 day, and you managed to follow dom on instagram but like sorta forgot about him inbetween filming and release time?? like you both got busy and just, whatever, but then the movie comes out and at first seems like it's just gonna be any other movie, you still post pictures from set on your instagram and celebrate it, and, for the first time since meeting him, dom comments on your post "so much fun, if you're ever around my way, text me" and you're like ⁉️

and you shoot off a dm at him, sorta like "hey i was finally able to watch the whole movie and you did really good" and he texts back like "aw thanks, that's really sweet" and you ask "back then, you lived in massachusetts, where are you now?" and he says "i'm in philly right now for school, but i'm taking spring semester off, so i'll probably go back to jersey with my mom"

and you start talking like every day then, now that the door is open you can't stop, he's always sending you memes and telling stories, and you send him memes about HIM as you watch him become the new it boy (and maybe you're a little jealous bc he was YOUR boy first, he was YOUR little secret, but not so much anymore), and THEN the movie starts to get acclaim?? and it looks like it might be something more than some movie you made a few years ago for a single day?? it's turning into something bigger than that?? all your friends at uni knew that you were in the movie and had gone and seen it and teased you about the kiss, but now you're getting stopped by strangers on the way to lecture and asked about the movie?? like wtf!!

and you and dom are steady texting every day like "DUDE" "DUDE I KNOW", and it starts getting awards buzz, all the best actor and best supporting actress and breakthrough actor and everything is WILD, and you're always texting him to congratulate him winning this award or that award, and you slowly start to realize. oh shit i have a crush on him. oh fuck i'm whipped for this guy.

and the day the oscars nominees are announced, you're in lecture, and your phone starts ringing and yelling at you, and your lecturer is like "do you need to take that?" and you sorta laugh "no, whatever it is, it can wait..." and you finally dig your phone out of your bag and see it's dom wanting to video call?? which doesn't happen often, for as famous of an actor as he is now, he hates seeing himself on camera and even if you do video call, his camera is off most the time, so for HIM to initiate a video call is VERY bizarre "... actually, sir, i do need to take this, i'm sorry"

and you go in the hall and answer the call, and dom is yknow DOM, messy frizzy hair and his shirt on backwards and he's frantic, and you're like "did you just wake up, what's going on??" and he says "have you seen yet?!" "seen what??" "jesus christ, i can't fucking believe this—" "dominic, what's going on?" "holdovers has been nominated for best picture at the oscars"

and you black out for a second and snap back in and you're like "we're WHAT"

and dom says "what're you doing on march 10th?? can you come to the oscars?? do you even want to??" "yeah i'd love to, but i-i need to get to LA, and i need a dress, and i need a date—" "how about me? i'll take you"

and when you reunite in los angeles for the oscars, it's the first time you've seen him in the flesh in like nearly 2 years, but you run to him and hug him, and he hugs you back, and it's such a happy moment and you can't believe that this is your life

and all night, people are complimenting your dress and your hair and makeup, and dom won't stop trying to get people to pay attention to you, he's in a little interview on the carpet and he's asked who his date is, and he grabs you by the hips "my wonderful costar, she played elise in the movie" and everybody has the same reaction, they hear your character's name and then stare at you for a second until it clicks "oh! you did so good in the movie!!"

and dom is so nervous and anxious all night, he sorta joked "i know we won't win, there's no shot in hell, oppenheimer's gonna win, so why am i nervous??" and you hold his shaking hands in yours and try to calm him as much as possible, but cameras catch you holding hands and the way he whispers in your ear to talk to you, and like HALFWAY through the show, your friends sends you a link to a variety article that mentions the best dressed at the awards, and dom is on there, and the little text blurb under his picture says "sessa is attending the show with his girlfriend and costar" and your friend is like "GIRLFRIEND??" and you're like "wait" and apparently everybody online has mistaken your physical closeness for a relationship, and you show dom during a commercial break just to be like "oh haha look at this, they think we're dating"

and he hits you with the "are we not?" "what do you mean 'are we not'?" "i mean, i thought... i thought we've been dating for a while. i've been telling people all night that you're my girl" and you shiver with delight at how casually he says his girl, but like "you thought... well, when would we have started dating?" "you remember a few months ago, the conversation we had about how, like, i'm bad at relationships and you don't like commitment, and i said i'd try to be better and you said you'd try to commit to someone? i thought that was us agreeing to start dating"

and like shit yeah you DO remember that conversation, it was like 3am and you were on facetime for HOURS that night and you're like "oh! well... yeah, that can be it." and dom's like "sooo.... does that mean i can kiss you?" and it's a gentle, soft kiss, just like your first one so long ago

and that night, you reunite with paul and da'vine (who you had met in passing on set), and towards the end of the night, da'vine sends you a photo she took on her phone of you and dom, holding each other, foreheads touching, giggling together, and you hard launch your shit on instagram with that picture "we may not have won best picture, but i won best boyfriend <3"