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cultgambles · 3 years ago

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Yeah She Bad Ain’t She

Why would I wanna keep her to myself

Dabi x Reader x Hawks

Wrote this in Hawks’ POV bc try new things. Enjoy! Also got inspired by some audios on gwa lol but what’s new.

Voyeurism, exhibitionism, public, threesome, mutual masturbation, one (1) gay joke, they/them pronouns for reader, afab tho

WC: 1794

Masterlist | Requests? open

The first time you step into the dingy bar of the LOV, you scrunch your nose at the smell. Cough into your fist, and scan the room with careful eyes. You see Tomura Shigaraki nursing a whiskey at the bar, Kurogiri behind it, Spinner chatting up Twice. Dabi is laid back on the couch, his arm slung around someone you don’t recognize.

“Hawks, our newest member!” Shigaraki says to the team. “Give him every hospitality.”

“Hey-yo!” you say, saluting leisurely as a greeting. Shigaraki introduces everyone, as if you don’t already know who everyone is. Except one person, the one cozied up to Dabi. They introduce themselves as [Y/N]. Someone you’ll have to research on later before you report back to the commission, which makes you sigh silently.

“Come sit! You’re in luck because tonight is movie night!” Twice says.

“Just tonight?” you ask, watching the rest of the members find seats around the small TV.

“Every Thursday!”

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Catch Me If You Can! About that American con artist,” [Y/N] says. “Pass me that blanket, would you?”

“Sounds interesting. And sure,” you say, tossing the Christmas themed blanket at them. You watch as they fluff it out on themselves and Dabi. You push over one of those lounge chairs and flop onto it. Shigaraki queues up Netflix and hits the play button.

About thirty minutes in, you hear [Y/N]. “Dabi, stop,” they whisper, smacking him on the arm lightly.

“What, I’m not doing anything at all.”

“Don’t act all innocent.” Out of your peripheral vision, you swear you see Dabi’s hand move under the blanket, [Y/N]’s hand gripping his forearm.

“But don’t I make you feel good, baby?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. The problem is everyone is here.”

“Not like we haven’t done something like this before,” he scoffs. “Look, we even got an audience.”

Your face flushes as you listen to their conversation. You barely hear a low groan from [Y/N]’s lips.

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? I’m trying to see what Frank’s gonna do!” Shigaraki fumes, whipping around. A look at Dabi. “Oh.”

“C’mon, boss, don’t pay attention to us, watch the movie,” [Y/N] says.

“This is free entertainment right here.”

[Y/N]’s hips jolt upwards. “You perv.”

“More moaning my name, less talking,” Dabi growls, ripping the blanket off [Y/N]. [Y/N]’s wearing a yellow sundress, that by now, is hitched up above their hips. Their panties are pushed to the side, showing their glistening sex. Dabi’s middle finger and ring finger disappear inside of them, his palm pressing against the clit roughly as he fingers them.

“I-Is this a normal occurrence?” you stutter, face turning the same color as your wings.

“P-pretty normal, yeah, oh, Dabi, right there!” [Y/N] trails off, grinding up for more friction.

“What can we say, we like to have fun here.”

By now, the other league members have turned around, movie be damned.

“How are y’all so casual about this?!”

“Don’t be like that, you’re having a good time too, bird brain,” Dabi smirks, eyes drifting to your growing erection.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But he’s not wrong, both of them have got you so enamored. You hear the squelch and squeaks, the quickening of breaths.

“Dabi, I need you, need your cock,” you barely hear them whisper.

“Of course, doll. Lay down,” Dabi smiles softly, planting a kiss on their lips.

You don’t know if you’d rather be him or [Y/N].

[Y/N] slips down, horizontal on the couch. You eye Dabi as he stands straighter, nimble fingers unclasping his belt and pulling his cock out. It shimmers slightly in the TV light. He drags his cock along their folds, gathering wetness. He taps it against them. Without warning, he slams into them, both letting out a guttural sound at the sensation. His pace is slow, he’s gripping [Y/N]’s hips as a smack smack smack rings out as their bodies meet.

Somewhere behind you, you hear a zipper unzipping. You’re tempted to too, but would that be too soon? Must be, since this is basically your first official day here.

But you don’t deny how good [Y/N] looks taking Dabi’s cock. Hair splayed out, breasts moving under that sundress. You want to rip the dress off of them. Tt hold, knead at the flesh, and lick at the pert nipple. Your eyes travel down their body, where [Y/N] takes him in so nicely. How would they taste, you wonder.

And what about Dabi? Just the size of him could choke you out.

Dabi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “C’mon, man, if you’re just gonna stare at them, why don’t you play?”

“Nothin’ wrong with lookin,’” you trail off.

You so want to. Badly.

“Hawwwwkkks,” [Y/N] moans. “Let me taste you. Taste me. Whatever.”

“You heard them,” Dabi drawls.

One beat, and suddenly you’re up, fast as lightning. “[Y/N], let me take your dress off.”

“Okay,” [Y/N] lifts their arms as you pull the dress up over their head, revealing the tantalizing and smooth skin. You toss the dress somewhere to the side of you and rip off your gloves. You kneel beside them on the floor, slotting your mouth against theirs in an open mouthed kiss. Your hands sneak up, massaging their breasts and pinching the nipples.

You feel [Y/N]’s hand snake down your chest, and whimper as their hand grips your clothed cock. You pull away to bring it out. The tip is flushed red, a bead of precum forming at the slit. You stroke your hand down once, and move so your hips are flush with [Y/N]’s face.

“Nice dick,” [Y/N] and Dabi mutter at the same time.

“Jinx!” [Y/N] barks a laugh that soon turns into a moan at a particularly hard thrust.

[Y/N]’s tongue slides on the underside of your cock, massaging the vein there. Soon enough, it’s enveloped in their mouth and you fight to suppress a moan.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby.” [Y/N] hums, taking you in deeper. Their nose nuzzles the hair at the base of your dick slightly. They barely have to do any work as Dabi basically pushes them forward with each thrust. Dabi looks up at you with lazy eyes.

“Kiss me,” you plead, leaning in.

“That’s gay,” he says as he captures your lips with his.

You’ve never kissed a man before. He tastes like old cigarettes and mint. Your tongue slides against his teeth, and finally meets his tongue.

He’s got a tongue piercing.

How many piercings does this dude even have?

You jerk away without warning as [Y/N] does a particularly hard suck.

“Wanna feel their pussy?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Just because you’re new I’ll

let you.” Is this a trick?

You so want to.

[Y/N] pops off of you. “Dabs likes watching.”

“Does that even count since I’m also partaking?”

“I think so. Just get over here, I need your fat cock in my mouth. Not that yours wasn’t also good, Hawks. Just needs to be somewhere else,” [Y/N] says.

“Do it!” you hear.

Damn. You’re so wrapped up in these two, you forgot there was an audience. However, it seems that was the push you needed. You give the a-okay. Dabi nods, clearly pleased by your decision, and pulls out.

You trade places, [Y/N]’s hole flexing against nothing. You bring two fingers down to swipe at the wetness and run your tongue along the digits. You guide your cock in, letting out a satisfied moan at the warmth. [Y/N] squeezes your cock deliciously, and you almost want to come right then and there. You tell them so.

Your pace isn’t as brutal as Dabi’s but still elicits those sounds you're beginning to love out of [Y/N]’s mouth. A sick part of you hopes you’re better than Dabi, and that they will leave him for you.

Or maybe they’ll let you in again? How often do they do this sort of stuff, you wonder to yourself.

[Y/N] and Dabi are holding hands sweetly, their fingers brushing against his charred skin rhythmically.

Your hand moves to rub tight circles on their clit and you're squeezed impossibly tighter as a response.

“You gonna come, [Y/N]?” Dabi asks. “Getting sloppy there. Don’t bite, baby.”

“I’m so close,” [Y/N]’s voice dips off info nothingness at the end, mouth agape. They throw their head back as they move their hips against yours when your body meets theirs. “I want both of you to come inside of me.”

“Wasn’t gonna do it anywhere else,” Dabi chuckles.

“You want me to?” you ask.

“Yeah, fill me up good, Hawks.”

You glance at Dabi. He shrugs. Hope he doesn’t kill you for this.

“Oh shit,” you curse, feeling [Y/N] spasm around you and shudder.

You think Dabi comes at the same time you do. You slow to a languid pace, letting [Y/N]’s walls milk you.

“Good job, doll face,” you watch him lean down and peck [Y/N] on the forehead. “You too, bird brain.”

“Uh, thanks.” You pull out of [Y/N], and they wince at the loss. You tuck yourself back into your pants and [Y/N] wraps the blanket around their shoulders.

“Good show!” Twice says.

“Now let’s finish the movie,” Shigaraki huffs out.

“You have such a one track mind, Shiggy,” [Y/N] says, ruffling his hair.

“I’m just really invested.”

“Yeah, you were invested in us, too,” they say, looking down briefly.

“Oh shut up.” You catch a glimpse of his cock as he scurried to shove it back in his pants.

“See ya round, Hawks,” [Y/N] says, blowing you a kiss. They take Dabi’s hand in theirs and walk up the stairs at the back of the bar.

“Probably gonna fuck some more,” Spinner snickers.

You’re lucky your mic on the inside of your jacket just happened to die before you got up to some frisky business. This has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve been a part of: League of Villains just fuck as bonding activity.

Maybe you’ll keep this one to yourself. You wonder if they would ever invite you again.

#bnha #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x hawks #dabi x reader x hawks #lemon #smut #dabi x you #hawks x you #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #my writing

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ghostly-cabbage · 3 years ago

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Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)

It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!! Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together

Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. And it's just getting better and better. Why? Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.

Words: 6,233

Ao3

“I take back all my poor words. Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich When I close my eyes You grab my wrist, And pull me in to your cold dead lips”

So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay?

This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea.

Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class.

And it's just getting better and better.

Why?

Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle.

What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now?

Give him a fuckin’ break.

Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng.

Lighten up, bro, he’d said.

Yeah.

Sure.

The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer.

People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain.

A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes.

He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this?

He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can.

His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest.

He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.

Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can.

“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.

Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid?

“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.”

“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people.

Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when—

“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!”

Fucking hell.

He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny.

“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.”

Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again.

“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame.

Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”

Danny looks at him like a puzzle.

When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath.

He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell.

“I was being facetious, prick.”

Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.

“Right. So you are still mad?”

He pushes air through his teeth.

“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.”

Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks.

“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig.

Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.

“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.”

Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest.

“How many’ve you had?”

Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long.

“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.”

Wes slides a hand down his face.

Jesus Christ.

“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”

“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and—

Flirting?!

They weren’t fucking flirting.

What the fuck.

Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins.

Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach.

“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.

Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.

“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?”

Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows.

“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them.

The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh.

“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil.

“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks.

Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.”

God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up.

Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle.

“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks.

“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those.

“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.”

His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.

“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together.

How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?

But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him.

Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.

But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.

Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water.

What the hell was that?

“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.

“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.

“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup.

Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?”

“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back.

It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well.

It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm.

“Dude, maybe you should call it.”

“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right.

Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it.

“Nope. You two are done.”

“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.

The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.

Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says.

A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him.

He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable.

“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh.

Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.

“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey.

Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe.

His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it.

Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl.

Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault.

He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs.

“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says.

She gives him an annoyed look.

“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps.

“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen.

Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels.

Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face.

“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says.

Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup.

“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.”

Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless.

“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?”

“You just said this is your first time being drunk.”

Danny blows a raspberry.

Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash.

“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says.

He’s a few swigs into it when he stops.

“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature.

“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth.

At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out.

“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm.

“Ow, why are you hitting me?”

“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.”

Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles.

“What.”

“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.”

The ground feels like it opens up underneath him.

His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry.

It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him.

“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter.

Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer.

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?”

Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples.

Is he really about to do this?

“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.”

“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Heat flashes through him.

“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.”

Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up.

Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.

“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine.

“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.”

“You’re a bad liar, Wes.”

Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room.

“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.”

He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them.

“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines.

“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?”

“Dance with me, then.”

Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and…

He—

He blinks, shakes his head.

“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles.

“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says.

“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?”

“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.”

Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks.

“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says.

“Thanks?”

“Mmhm.”

God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like.

“Where are we going?” Danny asks.

“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.”

“Tha’s not vague.”

Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light.

The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine.

What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.”

And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him.

More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him.

They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.

“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.

“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs.

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?”

“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw.

Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him.

“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?”

Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over.

“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny.

Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.

“Oh come on, Wes,” he says.

“Quit messing around, dude.”

Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes.

“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?”

Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.”

Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.”

Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him.

“Would you just get up?”

“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.”

Wes kicks his leg.

“You can lay down in the room. Get up.”

Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes.

“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause.

“You okay?”

“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.

Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone—

Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm.

“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?”

Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.

They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room.

It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light.

He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over.

“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…”

Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him.

“Oh, just the last few, huh?”

“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles.

Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.”

It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.”

“I’m not going to throw up.”

“Famous last words, Fenton.”

“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet.

Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.

He’s not used to having… company.

Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s still hot,” he sighs.

“It’s the alcohol, dude.”

Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead.

“This is your bedroom, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.”

Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”

Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug.

“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!”

“I… don’t know what that means.”

“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back.

Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser.

“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp.

“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice.

Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again.

“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?”

Wes snorts.

“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.”

Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be.

Something in him loosens.

“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says.

“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other.

Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints.

“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?”

“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.”

“You’re full of jokes tonight.”

Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light.

Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.

It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand.

Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door.

“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that?

“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says.

Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.”

“Says the stalker.”

“I didn’t stalk you.”

Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything.

Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard.

“I was… investigating.”

Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.

They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs.

He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while.

He can’t focus.

Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep—

“Hey, Wes.”

He jumps. Just a little bit.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

He puts his phone down.

“...For what?”

“For making everyone think you were crazy.”

Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat.

“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks.

“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.”

He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place.

“Danny…”

Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels.

“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.”

“You didn’t know the whole situation.”

“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.”

It feels like glass coming up from his throat.

He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny.

“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.”

Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.”

Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.”

Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?”

Danny smiles wide and bright.

“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.”

Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”

“No kidding.”

Wes runs his palms over his jeans.

“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.”

“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.”

“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say?

His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy.

“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says.

“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.”

Danny laughs.

Wes leans over onto some of his pillows.

“How are you this okay after drinking all that?”

Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.”

“Right, makes sense.”

He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier.

“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that?

He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says.

They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.

Danny likes stars, doesn’t he?

When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know.

Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.”

Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.”

Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall.

At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is.

And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too.

—

Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.

He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell.

Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he—

He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks.

Water. He should get some water.

He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet.

Well.

Mostly.

He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be.

Kyle looks up at him as he walks in.

“Morning.”

He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack.

“Hangover?”

“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth.

He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump.

He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny.

“Awake?” he asks.

Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating.

He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.”

Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks.

He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later.

Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.”

“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.”

“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.”

“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.

“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?”

“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him.

Kyle gives him a look.

“How much.”

“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.”

“Twenty bucks.”

“Kyle.”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“‘This time?’ What happened last time?”

They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand.

“Holy shit,” Kyle says.

“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head.

Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on.

“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.”

Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.

He returns the look, just as lost.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.

It feels like for a second time stops—

Hooking up?

Hooking up?!

His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.

Danny looks like a deer in the headlights.

“Uh—”

The toaster pops.

“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—”

“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”

His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny.

“Who the hell told you that-that we—”

“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”

“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands.

This is it, this is how he’s going to die.

“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!”

“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.”

Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.”

“Cool. Now please leave.”

“What?”

Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.”

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.

Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!”

Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart.

Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery.

“Well…” Danny says from behind him.

He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too.

“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face.

“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.”

Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips.

Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night.

“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts.

“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.”

Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice.

“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.

Right. Right.

This was just getting better and better.

He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand.

“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury.

He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.

Wes swallows.

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror.

“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it.

They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say.

“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.”

Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

But Danny doesn't move.

He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay.

“Wes,” he says.

Wes looks at him.

He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him.

“Thanks. For last night.”

He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.”

Danny rolls his eyes.

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were pretty bad.”

“Not even.” Danny smiles.

And they’re close again, sharing each other's space.

“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.”

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.

“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?”

Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says.

“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.”

Danny glances away.

“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.”

Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage.

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them.

“It’s way more fun, bothering you.”

It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing.

“Well you’re an expert at it by now.”

Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—

“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.”

And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?

Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real.

Maybe it’s always been leading to this.

Maybe it’s fucked up.

Wes having the power to hurt him all over again.

“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper.

“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips.

Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.

“Prove it.”

#Unidentified Flying Ship #danny/wes #Danny Phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #my writing #DP Shiptember 2021 #drunk prompt #one-shot #wes weston #wesley weston

126 notes · View notes

i-dont-know-nor-care-go-away · 2 years ago

Text

my thoughts on 2022 DCI

I have not to much marching experience don't get mad at me

this is gonna be long af btw. I also wrote it as I watched it.

1 military

nothing to say

2 troopers

go watch it now

hduegwugjwfw7tjwbhw

how that cello work?? that not how you supposed to work

that should win. it has too

I cant word this is too good

3 colts

ewww

stop mashing together cultures

stereotypes

what's with the worms wait nvm

if they wanted to do silke road then they should have used harmonic minor scales for a middle eastern feel (still stereotype ish tho) and pentatonic scales for more Asian feels (still stereotypical tho)

bordering on offensive buddy but fir now it was just weird

Mandarins

no. 4

Weird name and color guard

hi we are the Cutie oranges

theme is other side??

steppy thing

music is 6/10

VISUALS 1010

seriously what's their color guard?

ok what is the theme?

what's the percussion doin with the uniforms?

ok steppy star things are cool

GUITAR??

ok color guard pop off to the guitar ig?

emerald iVyYY wrapped around mYyy skIn

what's with the singing tho? is that a thing?

he sings good tho

ooooOooooOOoh oOOOoioooOOoh

dramatic climb the stairs things

such passion tho

color. theory. pink and orange for color guard but black and blue for marchers?

0/10 for costumes

taKE MEE! TAKE ME! TAAaaAakke ME!TAKE ME TO THAT OTHER SIIiiiiIIIIDDEEEEE

California get yo act together

Phantom regiment

ok pop off with the name queens

look up Spartacus from them dang

oh it's from Illinois

no walk too far? Hercules vibes

also why does the announcer growl saying the name

JESUS? IS THAT YOU?

white carpet?

color guard is ehh

that marching tho>>

music 100/10

percussion slaps

marchers go 💫swirl💫

white carpet split apart

yeet(lift) the trombone girl on the air

her solo slaps tho

they moving the white carpet thing?t

trumpet boy doin gymnastics with color guard?

swanky tilts to the side

COLOR GUARD YEETING THE MARCHER

THEY SLAM HIS HEAD IN THE GROUND LIKE FOOTBALL?

MELLO SOLO

oh they dancin (color guard girl and marchers boy who fought)

nice ballad

what's with the purple fabric and arm grab?

color guard dresses eww

it's just not riveting tho

maybe it's the boring props

oh they put the stage/white carpet together again

marchers uniforms are just not it

why they cri?

Cavaliers

nice name

oooh stage prop?

why my sound go ppdhaya? :(

I cant see now

now I can

drum major have feather in their cap lol

jeuahfyhxdw costumes look like puke+psychedelic

theme?

music going good

trumpet go screeeee

cg visuals are great

time is now?

Ramp things?

spiny circle marching

march up the ramps

is that a clock?

camera tilts

that dude flopped dramatically

why the percussionist has a bowl cut?

look at hand lower hand

spinning

BILL BIARD THINGY FLIPPDD LIKE BILL BOARDS IN THE BIG CITIES

ballad is cool and leads to buildup

run little flag boy run

move the ramp

trumpet solo part go off

it's not over?

sign thingy flipped again

tiktok? what'd he say?

move the ramps WITH THE DRUM PEEPS ON IT?

welcome to the fiNaL strAww

Did he do a flip?

what are their costumes tho

lie down in the clock then

oh they are from Illinois

ITS STILL NOT DONE?

Ok byebye now

no 7

BLUE STARrrRRRzzz

where are they from again?

oh fancy dresses!!

accordians!!

props 10/10

Italian?

oh it's war and peace

fainting coach or hospital bed?

that Mello ♡

is that mellO?

MUSICCCCHWYRJWYEWOJW

Canons too

color gaurd is ON POINTE WITH COSTUMES THIS TIME GO OFF

Visualsqajdjaahw

finally some good frinken uniforms (Gordon Ramsey voice)

square swirls

that choreography 😍

actin is so good

ballad is like 2ed best rn

THIS COLOR GUARD JD WADHWA

GO QUADS THATS HARD LOOKIN

SOO GOOD

getting world War vibes somehow

oh no this is the ballad

jazzy

this part is the victory?

trumpet solo part is good

matching at slide is so cool

starrrrr

drum major lo key looks like agent Piper from aos

cadets

my director was a drum major

Pennsylvania

dude from my high is there

uniforms look ehhh

toad travels

narrator

why the newbies vibes

I love the way they have a story teller every now and then

yeet the suitcase

the NYC formation sjsiadjsosheyge

jazzy trumpet with mute

Stomp Stomp Stomp

is that mello Peeta? he looks like him

music is good ig

it's.. goodbye

you have to .. leave it all.. in the rear view mirror

Vanguard

Santa Clara

props are cool

not the announcer mispronouncing a white name

nice costumes, very uniform

that opener is startling

darker tone, I like it

so they climb the ladder things? huh it's cool ig

cg uniforms are pretty ok

cool music and props

great choreography

DAMN SHE A QUEEN

SHE FLOAT?

Carolina Crowns

dope name

purple

what's the orange noodle thingy

self advertising

heuryqiwj

boom boom clap

crowd interactive is so cool

noodle thing moved!!

was that a heart?

guitar is there

am I going crazy or did that trumpet soloist (1st ine) look like leo fitz

it's a seA iwhiage pretty

it looks so fun

blue coats

l- who's that guy?

what is that uniform

handstand?

weird narrated story

trippy

pop those hips ig?

RUN EM OVER WITH THE WHEEL

keyboard is cool

did this man do drugs? is this story his acid trip?

wasn't the keyboard black?

Boston crusaders

wicked games 2017

ooohhhh it's a..smth?

costumes are soo cool

why are the guys shirtless tho? they are gonna be cold

nice save with the dropped Saber

the drum line is, as the youngins would say, "dripped out"

what r u doing with the cones?

climbing them i guess

so it's a tango

well tangos slap, this one's a banger

ok I'll stop

the trombones about to behead each other

the emotion in the dude that's being dragged around eyes bro

blue devils

the propsssssss

those costumes

you tread on my dreams - wh-what I'm scared

they MOVE THE STAIRS?

that guitar

I'm impartial to the music

ofc the blue devils won screaming crying throwing up. their show was souless.

#dci #dci 2022

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humankoalaa · 2 years ago

Text

P VALLEY!! 2X07

*SPOILERS*

been a minute since i did one of these!

LORETAAAA U BETTA SAAANGGGGGGG.

not this wig. p valley…. y’all know damn well wigs in the 60’s ain’t look like this.

baby clifford 😭 i needs to know how the “uncle” came to be.

UNT UNT. absolutely not. heaven can wait. not my graynmuva. bye.

timeout.. you can show all this cleavage in heaven? i ain never seen no angel let me stop playing.

you not offering me shit in joe dirts wig. absolutely not. im just not doing that. talm bout come home 🤣

ion wanna go where they’re letting her do the lords work in that wig cause that alone tells me they fake.

they got earnestine at the pynk in pajamas, bed slippers and a feather boa 😭 JAIL.

ONE TWO BREAK EM’

this the coldest theme song since

golden girls and the proud family. no debate. argue with your breakfast.

🎶 DEE NIGGAS GRAN HARD BUT DEE BITCHES GRAN HAHDUH 🎶

“grandaddy honeycomb” 😂

one thing about autumn knight ne lakeisha savage ne hailey colton.. she gon get cussed tf out deservingly and still be on some fuck shit.

UNT UNT not earnestine. talm bout 6 feet. .6 feet where? in the ground? because when and where 😒 alexa, play crime mob, knuck if you buck.

“what you not gon do is piss in my mouth and call it kool-aid” 😭😭 THE WAAAAAYYYYYY i hollered.

why they got hailey in earnestines wig from the 60’s 😫 JAIL!

OOP.

brandee evans is just 😍

not maybe paint my room.

terricka… you not that damn pregnant.

terricka: “can i drive?”

mercedes: “absolutely the hell not” 🤣

can’t believe teak gone 😭 lawd these flashbacks worst the second time.

“that chicken and dressing clifford made gon take me before that rona do” 😭

“okay chef negro dee” 😫💀 alexa, did we ever figure out if heaven got a ghetto because the waaaaaayyyyyy im on my way.

OOP.

smh.

keyshawn. sweetie.i know it’s hard… but the mf gotta shower at some point ANDDDDT i KNOW you’ve seen diary of a mad black woman and i KNOW you got baby oil. IYKYK.

“lil homicide” 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️

WAIT HOW DID I MISS THIS THE FRIST TIME 😭 “what if it’s a carbon peroxide leak” unc, please 😂

the chucalissa strangler 🤣

“lil calculator” 😭

cliff: “i thought you said you choose the money over love” oop.

lil murda: “i said i usually do” OOP. listen to these wedding vows. your faves could never.

“im scraight” lie.

cedes: “i know w you ain’t talm bout no weak pull out game in your condition” 😂

terricka: “well how do you think i

got in this condition” 😫💀

not mercedes asking tarricka if she gon make up her mind about keeping this child at the baby preschool graduation 😭

terricka: “well julissa said that taylor said that her mama said that getting an a portion gives you cancer”

Mercedes’: “well julissa, taylor, and her bald headed hoe mama ain’t got two brain cells between the three of them” 😭😭😭😭 the way she put her hand on her hip 😭 katori hall need to be locked up for that line. im crying 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣💀🤦🏾‍♀️

this episode is hell 😭

cliff ain’t no reason you being this loud.

“nigga you lready here ain’t it” OOP.

“this gucci 234 B.C.?” 💀 ima fight katori.

ive never seen black men let alone black men in a queen storyline written this well 😭

katori hall really said i know im straight and over qualified HOWEVER,i am a writer so writers, SPECIFICALLY AND ESPECIALLY queer writers im available 5 days a week from 9-5 since yall have no idea what you’re doing. argue with a pamper.

ernestine where in the hell you going.

uncle clifford running 🤣🤣

murda correcting the paramedics 😭😭😭😭 your faves could never!

“whatchu lookin at r. kelly” 😭😭

cedes don’t do this to yourself 😭 you are not patrice 🥺

terricka… 🤦🏾‍♀️ ugh i hate it here.

“cause im ya mama” 😭

mf’s don’t ever use soap in tv showers.

lamarcus please 🤣

besides… i want to.. feel yo..🫢

this sex scene 🫢🫣 your faves could never.

fill me who?! LAMARCUS 🤭

coach somewhere like damn.... pitter patter.

😭😭😭😭 they’re so in love i can’t.

ion know if patrice a preacher or ms cleo.

ion have a clue in hell what autumn is talking about.

same keyshawn.

watched it for a third time and now i get it…. hopefully she don’t pull that you owe me shit on keyshawn.

#p valley #uncle clifford #lil murda #nicco annan #brandee evans #the pynk #keyshawn #p valley spoilers #shannon thornton

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magicalboycupid · 3 years ago

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Before I go to bed have these psychonautsona sketches + altered enemy designs for their mind

v more about them v

(their mind is structured in a way to represent self harm + self destructive tendencies, it’s abstract but I’m warning for it anyways)

when getting into psychonauts the idea that you can represent mental issues without having to directly address them interested me a lot, especially as someone who desperately wants good and thoughtful representation of self harm in media, so I’ve been obsessed with the concept of self harm as a level theme.

It still needs some work but here are my custom enemy designs + explanations of why they’re like that

for the censors I wanted them to be very weak and scarce, representing how hard it is to control and disregard intrusive and self destructive thoughts.

I wanted the bad ideas to be big, really bad ideas, these are self destructive thoughts after all. The lightbulbs vary in size and their mouths are massive (a design trait I admit was inspired by Baku from Yo-Kai Watch)

these deep regrets are dressed up in suits because it matches the censors and the personal demons, their hair also resembles Cupid’s but sharper. I have a lotta regrets and I need some sharp lookin guys to carry them around.

personal demons are notable being only in the original Psychonauts, but I got these fuckers in my mind, so they’re returning once again. They have more heads now, and are generally bigger and more imposing (probably about the height of Raz rather than shorter).

Psychonaut Cupid themself is a guy who likes staying in the background on missions but loves being the life of the party among friends. Their openness and over-affectionate nature caused a lot of issues in their personal life so they started walling themself off, this ended up resulting in a really good mental shield

#my art #psychonautsona #psychonauts #psychonaut Cupid #self harm mention #self harm ment #self harm implied

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honoredbastard · 3 years ago

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ෆ self indulgent and entilted

characters — bonten!rindou haitani + *yakuro nanami (oc) .

content and warnings — mentions of drugs ( yo sanzu ), clubbing, stalker mention, mention(s) of drugging, yelling, angst(?), swearing, and so on.

note — sorry for the dark content hhhhh, it came with the idea of ackerman being a yakuza that hated bonten and wanted yakuro gone. it may actually be apart of the fic i’m outlining..... these men hold my heart and WILL NOT LET GO OF IT. also they just like dive into my brain 24/7. help i had a fit over what looked best for three hours- at this point i’mma probably make a lil sum’ for sanzu. i love this man and i can’t stop having him appear in my stories that involve bonten. like this guy is 24/7 in the back of my mind.

*Yakuro Nanami. he/they/bun!

Now playing ayanami — by satin

rindou woke up first to yakuro wearing his bunny ears and a bunny pajama set that he seemed to just slip on before marching into bed. it was cute, but there was still smudges of makeup on his face and the dark circles of terrible inconsistent sleep. rindou sighed, brushing away blonde parts of hair that yakuro was chewing on.

“yakuro.” rindou lightly pushed yakuro’s shoulder, trying to wake the boy in his semi bunny work attire. “rindou? rindou....” yakuro groaned, his head searched for rindou’s lap or hand that he could lean into. just exist near, to feel his skin and be aware of his warmth, that he was alive and not dead. that he stayed the whole night. “morning doll.” rindou smiled quietly, brushing his fingers over the boy’s hair.

there was a knock on the door, “come in” as if that was a full offer to entangle himself with the couple he busted through the door and made a running start to jump onto the couple. “HI!” “i don’t do the touching, i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny.”

yakuro stated as if he was at work. it was grilled into his brain and always had to repeat it infront of new clients. working at a bunny suit club was not it, almost rolling over onto sanzu. “bad work day?” “bad work day.” rindou confirmed sanzu’s suspicions with three simple words. “yaku..” “no.” “yakuuu.” sanzu scooted in between the two, poking yakuro’s cheeks aggressively. he seemed sober, thank god.

rindou shrugged the mans presence off and trudged to the bathroom to wash and whatnot. “you have another shift, ran told me to wake you up. “that’s not my problem. tell my boss to go fuck himself with a dildo filled with nails.” sanzu’s eyes widened, that was aggressive. although at the same time sorta funny?

“he said he’d cut off your shift times and cut back on how much money you make plus tips.” sanzu repeated what ran had informed him of, with a quite frustrated appearance. “THAT FUCKER WILL NOT!” raising up from his laying position, yakuro ran into the hallway stumbling here and there from improper pace.

“i’d love to see him try i swear if he even tries reducing my pay i’ll quit the whole fucking job how about that? i never liked this bullshit bunny shit anyways, it’s annoying when the customers try to touch and then you get stalkers.” yaku was mumbling to hell and back from his bosses call, waving to ran who nodded. making himself a bento before heading off on a small mission.

yaku threw open the washroom door and started searching for his bunny suit attire. the club’s theme was rainbow today so he washed a deep red suit with a black add-on tail and clip on black ears (which were foldable too. yakuro always folds one ear.) when yakuro made it back to his room, sanzu was gone and rindou was crouching near the bottom drawer.

“whatcha lookin for?” yakuro asked curiously, sitting beside the man who made a mess beside him “looking for a red suit now, i’m trying to match with you subtly.” cute- that was the only thinking yaku could think of this man who is a part of a criminal organization/gang. who woulda thought?

“i think you might be better with either a red with black tie or a deeper red of a suit.” yakuro suggested, getting up from his sitting position, joints cracking. “or black would go well, after all i’m only wearing red heel, a red body suit, and red makeup. the rest is black!” yakuro called out to rindou who was still crouched as he exited the room. taking into account his suggestions, he went with a more black with red accents attire.

ާlocation, bunny palace! ෆ late night, 11pm.

“here in bunny palace we have many bunnies to suit your taste! male, female, and even those who do not define themselves! run and created by the ackermans.” bunny palace is under the hands of those with the ackerman name. mikasa, the current owner, is softer on us than many. although the music blaring is not something you can get used to.

“hello! i’m moonie! it’s so good to meet you, are you new here?” yakuro was tired, it was about 4 more hours until he shift ended and he was already hungry again. salad’s really don’t fill you up especially when you wolf them down. his feet ached and cried out each time he took another step, he wanted to lay down and use rindou as his personal body pillow.... rindou! ‘i hope he’s okay.’ he thought, placing himself beside the very important client his boss claimed. “oh i am! it’s nice too meet you moonie.”

“it’s so good to meet you too! we have a few rules here that our bunnies tell each new client: i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny. please keep touching to a minimal. do not force your bunny drinks or food. respect your bunny. is that doable?” yakuro asked with big puppy eyes, a big smile, and high pitched voice. “of course!” the customer happily said, hand already on his thigh.

i am SO uncomfortable was all that yaku could think about, his eyes flicking between the customer and each place his gross hands laid upon. squeezing every-so often like it was a pleasuring act for yaku. before he removed the man’s hand, he restrained himself. drawing a large breath before responding to the customer. “i’m so sorry sir! shall i get you something to drink?” yaku pouted, “if you’d like, moonie!” i’m saved.

yakuro smiled and stood up, “why of course! i’ll be right back!” like a breath of relief, he rushed to the staff room. he waved to some girls, “not on stage today moonie?” one asked, a baby stripper new to the bunny palace club. “yeah! boss was all: ‘act cutesy, be close, allow touching this once. there are really important customers here today.’ like thanks for threatening my paycheck and then saying that!”

“oh my, that’s rough babe. ackerman is always like that, it’s like she has a stick up her ass.” one of the older strippers that had been with yakuro since he started chimed in, “you’re right!” yaku chuckled, leaning closer into his vanity mirror to adjust his lipstick and have a chance to message rindou.

40 missed messages. “i’m so fucked.” “why’s that babe?” “i may have forgot to message rindou telling him ackerman added hours onto my shift.” the room grew tense, “that’s awful? read his messages.” sei suggested, “might cool him off if he’s angry.

“alright!” yaku sighed with a smile, opening the messages. to his surprise, rindou wasn’t angry but instead worried that a client had gotten too touchy and triggered yakuro. after all, ran did inform rindou about the bits and pieces that sanzu did not tell yaku. “whew, i’m good! i’m safe. he’s just worried....” sei and bab took a loud sigh and began laughing. “BUT I’M FUCKED.” “really? that’s great! now go out! your client must be waiting.”

yup the girls took it that way. “i will! don’t worry don’t worry. i just hope sanzu doesn’t buy the whole club.” “he won’t now go!” sei pushed out yaku who glanced over at the client who finished the previous bottle. his nose was red and was slightly swaying back and forth.

walking up to the bar, yakuro ran into polaris. “polar!” “moonie.” “can you get something for my client? he seems to be a lightweight.” “sure, i’m sure he wouldn’t mind beer.” polar sat down the cup he was wiping back and forth to keep busy.

“the bar isn’t very busy huh?” “oh no, it’s just we got our best girls today dancing and the waitresses and working ten times harder. it works out for both of them and neither of them have to fight each other about unfair pay. tomorrow you’ll be our best so good luck.” polar smiled earnestly to add to the words of encouragement, sliding over the foaming beer over the black marbled counter.

“thanks! i’ll need it.” turning with the drink in hand, yaku noticed the man’s disgruntled face. he looked as if the whole world was going to blow up and he was watching the countdown. ‘act cutesy, act cutesy, act cutesy.’ it was a constant mantra in his head before he sat down and opened his mouth.

“what could be wrong sir?” yaku felt like rolling his eyes into oblivion, he could care less. “oh it’s just something wrong with the gang.” “oh my, a yakuza?” boring, yaku fake gasped handing over the bear to the angered man. “yeah!” he said pridefully with a chuckle, gulping the drink down and slamming it down. “something about bonten this and that and one of our men died.”

now that’s interesting. yaku felt like walking out to just go see sanzu, it felt like everything was reminding yakuro of him. hell even the purple lights were. but alas he was stuck eyeing the entrance while the man babbled on and on about this whole yakuza shin-dig he was in. he decided to slip off his shoes because the waitresses’ assured the man that they would handle getting drinks.

it felt like hours, drink after drink the world became more hazy. yakuro grew a high tolerance because of his job but he seemed to be losing himself while the client seemed more than sober. “you.. slipped somethin, huh?” the client beside him flinched, clenching onto his bag. “w-what? are you sure you don’t have a low tolerance m-mr. moonie?” the man stammered, through gritted teeth yaku managed to huff out a ‘whatever’.

“miss. ackerman set you up? thought so, the bitch never liked me because i have a bonten member for a partner. guess i’m finally leaving this hellhole. send her my best regards, yeah?” he asked with a agitated tone. his words were laced with threats, raising slowly. “mr. moonie?” “i’m leaving, i want to leave. i have to go see rindou.” he dug the acrylic nails that were done just recently into his thigh. fuck the shoes.

whatever was in the drink didn’t seem strong but it had yakuro in and out of conscience. the man who was once his client seemed nowhere to be found, leaving a stumbling yaku to himself. sei noticed this and dropped her waiters plate, running over to the bunny who was just about to fall. “MOONIE!”

ާlocation, the bonten loft. early morning, 3am.

blue eyes fluttered open, fighting the urge to close once more. “they’re awake! rindou, they’re all good!” a familiar voice echoed throughout yakuro’s head. his body felt numb, in an attempt to speak he noticed his voice was gone. every one of his senses felt like they were being drowned under water. his eyesight was the only thing that was significantly normal.

though his contacts seemed to be taken off, leaving the blue and purple hues of yaku’s true eye colour roaming free. rindou’s footsteps were heavy and had a quick pace, the vibrations went through the bed. “yaku?” his usual docile purple eyes were filled with worry and anger mixed together, forever burning until yakuro got better.

all the man managed to do was a weak smile, his eyes blinked slowly while he stared at rindou. the two conversed, rindou’s agitation growing as his jaw clenched harder with every muffled word sanzu spoke. “i am very upset sanzu, yakuro was drugged. AGAIN!” “we can’t do anything but sit it out! we don’t even know who it was. rindou you need to calm down.” sanzu too was frustrated beyong belief.

the whole loft was filled with tension that was denser than a brick wall. everyone considered yakuro a part of bonten after two years. he even got a bonten tattoo per mikey’s request. it lays on his right shoulder which he covers up during his job with makeup despite his hatred, it was the only condition ackerman gave him before he could work at bunny palace. ackerman and bonten hated each other, seeing a bonten tattoo at the ackermans would start a war.

“he’s quitting that job and working at our club. this is the last time i’ll EVER see him like this again.” this wasn’t the first time rindou raised his voice when he was angered by the way yakuro looked in this condition. unable to move, speak, only look plainly at the wall with a weak smile here and there.

it tore him apart from the inside out each time, it did every member living in the loft. finally after whatever happened between those two. sanzu left, rindou left as well but returned with water and began to cuddle the numb and quiet yakuro.

#toyko revengers #tokyorev #tokyorev imagine #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindo haitani #x oc #fanfiction #tokyorev fanfiction #tokyo revengers fanfiction #bonten #tokyorev bonten #ran haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #angst #soft ending #angst with a hopeful ending #𝄖entiwrites

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kirishimabestcharacter · 4 years ago

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snap! mha boys

oneshots in which y/n snaps at girls feeling up on her mans, feat. izuku midoriya and bakugou katsuki

BAKUGO KATSUKI 💥

today, you and katsu went out to eat

you both are in your third year at UA

the waitress was being subtly flirty with bakugo, and he seemed annoyed but you both ignored it

‘‘how about we eat here, y/n?’‘ ‘‘sounds good to me, katsu.’‘ you both walked in and were greeted by the host, who led you to a table of two. the table was farther in the back of the restaurant.

‘‘we’ll have a waiter out to you two in a few minutes! please, enjoy.’‘

‘‘thank you!’‘ you exclaimed. katsuki thanked the waiter as well.

you and katsuki were talking about nonsense and playfully bickering for a few minutes until a waitress came to serve you two. ‘’hi, welcome to (insert restaurant here cause idk what to call it). can i get you two started on any appetizers or drinks?’’ you noticed she was eyeing bakugo the whole time she was speaking. yeah, it was no secret bakugo was handsome, but she could clearly see the two of you were together. ‘’uh.. hi, yeah, i’ll just have a water for now..’’ the waitress turns to you and immediately changes her facial expression to something of disgust. ‘’okay, i’ll get that out for you. and what may you have?’’ she turns to bakugo with a smirk on her face. you felt your cheeks heating up out of anger, but you restrained yourself. ‘’yeah, i’ll have a water as well.’’ katsuki sensed your discomfort. ‘’two waters.. i’ll have that out asap!’’ when she walked away, katsuki asked you whats wrong. ‘’whats up with you babe?’’ ‘’i don’t like the way she was looking at you, katsuki.’’ ‘’don’t overreact y/n. you know i wouldn’t leave you for anyone else.’’ ‘’ yeah yeah, i know.’’ ‘’i’m going to the restroom, okay?’’ ‘’okay.’’ as you watched him walk to the restroom, you saw the waitress look at him and start to follow behind. ‘’oh hell no,’’ you said to yourself.

‘‘uh, hi?’‘ bakugo looked at the waitress with puzzled look on his face. why the hell is she following me? he thought. the waitress took her fingers and traced them up and down his arm. ‘‘well.. i just thought... you’d want someone prettier. better. i could probably make you feel so much better than that whore over there... what do you say, hot stuff? me and yo-’‘ ‘‘OH ABSOLUTELY NOT BITCH. THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?’‘ you came up behind her and pushed her. ‘‘you heard me,’‘ the waitress retorted. ‘‘listen up, you cockeyed bearded dragon lookin ass bitch. me and the man you just called hot stuff are dating, so i would advise that you walk away and get us our damn drinks before i call management on your skimpy ass.’‘ ‘‘i-’‘ ‘‘did i stutter? why are you still in my face?’‘ the waitress walked away quickly and placed your drinks on your table. ‘‘that’s my girl!-’’ ‘’shut the fuck up.’’

IZUKU MIDORIYA 🥦

you and izuku decided to go to a hero convention today

you two are also in your third year at UA

you went to go get all might themed candy apples, but you came back and midoriya seemed scared

‘‘i’m so excited!!’‘ izuku almost yelled. ‘‘me too! i can’t wait to see mirko.’‘ ‘’i’m gonna get so many t shirts and posters...’’ he mumbled. you just smiled at the sight of how cute he was.

‘‘woahhh, zuku, this place is way bigger than i thought it would be!!” ‘‘yeah.. its huge...’‘ ‘‘OH MY GOD THERE’S A MIRKO STAND!!!’‘ ‘‘WAIT Y/N DON’T RUN OFF-’‘ the day consisted of you two going around the convention, meeting heroes, and buying merchandise.

‘‘ugh, i love mirko so much. her panel was so good! don’t you think, izuku?’’ ‘’yeah y/n, i think she said a lot of good stuff... i see why you look up to her now.’’ ‘’yea- ZUKU!! ALL MIGHT CANDY APPLES!! I’LL GO GET SOME, STAY HERE-’’ ‘’Y/N- sheesh.’’ what you didn’t notice is that since you two walked out of the panel, a girl had been checking midoriya out. she walked over to him.

‘’hey there.. how about i get your number?’’ izuku was terrified. what if you came back and thought he was cheating, then you got mad and dumped him? his face was frozen in fear. ‘’ i uh- i- i uh-’’ ‘’ohh come on...’’ the girl started. ‘’better idea,’’ she leaned into his ear. ‘’how about we ditch the bitch over there and grab something to eat?’’ izuku stepped back. ‘’i um- i’m good..’’ ‘’pleaseeee-’’ she took his scarred hand. ‘’oh wow, these scars are so cool, how did you get them?’’ you saw the look on midoriya’s face and the girl who was touching him. ‘’oh god,’’ you said. you sped walked over to them. ‘’whats going on here?’’ midoriya had never been happier. ‘’oh thank god, you’re back-’’ ‘’um, who are you?’’ the girl said. ‘’i’m his girlfriend, who are you?’’ the girl smirked. ‘’you might just be the side hoe after this, love..’’ ‘’the fuck did you just say to me?’’ you handed the candy apples to izuku and walked up to her. ‘’you low down, dirty, musty, crusty ass bitch. how the hell you gon come up here and try to holla at my man when yo breath smells like ten pounds of bounce that ass? bitch, you deadass built like the alligator from princess and the frog and yo forehead on swole mode. and you smell like fish. go brush your fuckin tongue before you open that nasty ass mouth of yours. like damn, pick a struggle.’’ her cheeks had reddened up in embarrassment and people had stopped by to laugh at her. after she ran away, you turned back to izuku. ‘’i fuckin hate people like her. anyway, look at these apples!! they look just like all might, don’t they?’’

‘’uh... ye- yeah... they do...’’

this was so fun to write

#mha #bhna #bhna x black!reader #mha x black!reader #bhna x poc!reader #mha x poc!reader #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bhna x reader #bhna x you #izuku midoriya #bhna deku #mha deku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bhna bakugou

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years ago

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Entitlement

Yandere!Hawks x fem!reader

Warnings: yandere, yellow sour fruit, dark themes, semi dubious consent, swearing

A/N: I started this before Halloween and just never fucking finished it but I figured that if I got one post out, might as well follow up with another. It was a bit rushed and the smut is short because it’s my bedtime but HEY! I’m DOING things!

Your keys clanked inside the glass bowl you threw them in as you sighed and walked into your apartment, holding dirtied white heels in hand and wearing disappointment across your face. The night’s events hung heavy on your shoulders which you tried to rub away while flopping down on your living room couch, but the tension was persistent. You had decided to go out, how very unlike you, but seeing as it was Halloween and it had been ages since you’d even spoken to your friends, you had figured that it might’ve been good to at least socialize a tiny bit. They took you to a party at some venue you’d never heard of, in a neighborhood you’d never been to, and the moment the crowd of costumed drunkards swallowed your friends was the moment you knew you wouldn’t be seeing them again.

You’d been left so alone, so exposed in your short white dress you’d thrown on just to look cute, the one you thought only your friends would see before they told you about the party. A sinful angel was the joke you were going for, but your joke had grabbed the attention of a few too many people and you were left to be incredibly uncomfortable. Friendlier celebrators were too touchy, brushing up against your exposed shoulders and offering you knowing smiles, as if you and any lingering stranger shared some sort of secret. One of your secrets was that you were distressed and didn’t want anyone you didn’t know to even look at you, your heels hurt, and the beer stench wafting through the air was giving you a headache. You really had to give yourself credit for how long you stuck around even though none of your friends were there to bear witness, but now you had to pay for persevering with sore feet and the feeling of being, well, lonely.

Lonely. You snorted. How you could feel isolated after receiving, what, attention?, was laughable. It was that sort of feeling that got you glancing at your window, waiting for movement. It wasn’t all the time you’d spot him, or maybe you’d gotten used to your outside disturbances, but ninety-nine out of a hundred times you did see something, you’d immediately pull your curtains together, however you thought that… perhaps… had you seen movement, you’d leave your curtains drawn apart.

Movement, however, didn’t come. That wasn’t uncommon. Your stalker, if that was what you could call him, was a very busy man, and on a night like tonight, it would be likely that he was on duty. It was either that, or he finally gave up on you, which would be a win for you for sure, but that didn’t stop you from walking to your balcony door, standing there for a moment, and sliding the glass open.

Cool air enveloped you as you walked barefoot onto your patio. You traced your fingers along the metal railing that kept you safe at ten stories high and glowered down at the busy street filled with teetering, costumed night crawlers. You glanced back inside to the empty loveseat that was practically calling your name. What was a lonely night if not one that involved relaxing indoors with a cool breeze blowing in while you had a nice drink in hand. Rubbing at your shoulders once more, you turned back inside. You told yourself close the door behind you, close the door behind you, but you gilded into your kitchen without touching the glass panel, leaving your unspoken invitation open.

Swiftly you poured yourself a glass, grinning stupidly at yourself for using something expensive. It was a ‘treat yo-self’ kinda night, wasn’t it? You adjusted the elastic straps that kept the white feathers strapped to your back and danced back into your living room, humming slightly as you took your seat.

You curled your toes around your soft throw and lightly dipped at your beverage as goosebumps appeared on your exposed legs. It took less than two minutes for a loud thud! to break your peace, although that wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“You’ll catch a cold if you leave your windows open all night long.” The upbeat voice rang out from your patio and a second wave of goosebumps met your skin— that wasn’t from the cold. Boots sounded off the approach of your intruder, and you pulled your throw farther up your legs, already second guessing yourself. Hell, you knew it was bad having him here, you knew he was sick, and you knew that letting him keep you company wasn’t helping him in the slightest… but the other secret you’d kept to yourself at the party was that even though you were vastly uncomfortable, you wanted the attention, you wanted to be touched, you wanted to feel good, but you just didn’t want to be around people you didn’t know. Hawks knew you, at least, Hawks was familiar to you. As horrendous as it was, he was the easy route. He’d provide you with anything you would ask for if that meant that he could be near you, and sometimes you couldn’t help but take advantage of that, especially when you were feeling vulnerable.

Hawks’ head appeared out from the dark, a grin already playing at the corner of his mouth. Once he was inside, his crimson feathers ruffled, twitching off the residual cold of the night. His face was flushed, whether that was because he’d been flying in such brisk weather or because of the circumstances playing in his favor, you didn’t care.

“But that was intentional, wasn’t it?”

You sipped your beverage, not bothering him with a reply. You could tell by the look on his face that he already knew, and even if he tried to hide it, his excitement was strongly apparent. He pushed his visor off his head and placed it on your shelf, already making himself comfortable.

“Do you want me to make you a drink?” You offered, staring down into your glass. You shifted in your seat, noting the sudden warmth that flooded your body. God, you were a disaster.

“Do you want to make me a drink?” He asked as he shrugged off his coat and crept closer to your couch. You looked up to him, at his stupidly handsome face, noting how big his wings made him look to you even though he had a smaller, unintimidating frame. You shook your head. “Then I don’t want a drink.”

How he could still be there with you when you were showing the least bit of hospitality baffled you. Even still, letting him in was better treatment than how you’d handled him in the past. You’d screamed at him, threatened to out his behavior to the world, and continuously shot him down, but of course, he’d always look forward to these one percent days.

“No plans tonight?” You pulled your legs inward to make room on the couch. “You’re not dressed up.”

“Nah, I’ve just been out and about. Lookin’ for trouble,” he said as he folded his wings in and plopped down beside you, his knee brushing up against your foot. “I was at a little club earlier this evening. What was it— The Cove?”

You gulped, damning him and cursing yourself. That was the name of the party’s venue. “Hawks, you can’t keep doing this.”

“Hm? Doing what? Making sure you’re safe?” He lazily rolled his head at you, chocolate eyes scanning your form. You inhaled deeply and pushed your legs into his lap, your throw falling to the floor. “Making sure nobody touches-“ he grinned “-my little angel?”

You sighed as gloved hands founds your knees and his thumbs began tracing gentle circles into your skin. There was no use arguing with him, you’d done so countless times before and that was when you weren’t in need of some company.

“I love the costume, by the way,” he said, reaching up to touch your phony feathers. “I’m kinda honored by it.”

You scoffed at that, though it was fervently ignored.

“-but if you wanted to fly, you know I’m always here for you.”

His hand trailed down to your shoulder and up to your neck. You winced before leaning into him, into his touch, the tension in your back only growing more obtrusive. You closed your eyes and rubbed your shoulders.

“You okay?” His hand met the back of your head and tugged on your kicks like he knows you liked.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

“Stop.” You groaned and pushed his hand away.

“Do you want me to stop?” Hawks brought his hand to his mouth and bit his fingertip, pulling his glove off. “Or do you want me to give you a massage?”

You furrowed your brows. That sounded so nice and by the dreamy look in Hawks’ half-lidded eyes, you could tell, he was not going to take no for an answer. “Let me take care of you, hmm?”

You let up, reaching for the uncomfortable straps for your wings, but Hawks worked his hands faster, hooking his fingers around the elastic and pulling down your shoulders slowly, taking the time to run his thumb down your arm, relishing the prickling goosebumps you were unwillingly giving out at his contact. You were touch starved and he knew it.

The cheap wings were discarded to the floor and Hawks made a circular movement with his hands, ushering you to turn over for him. He pulled your legs out and sat on your ass, brushing his hands across your back.

“The lotion is-“

“-in the bathroom cabinet. I know.” Hawks wasted no time clambering to and from your restroom and soon he was back to the best seat in the house. Shamelessly, he unzipped the dress, taking his time to admire your back, bare and beautiful to him. Cool, lotioned up hands pressed into you and you couldn’t help but let out a low groan at the contact you hadn’t known how much you yearned for. He hummed in approval as he covered your back, making sure to smooth his palms over your pressure points. His hands cleared up to your shoulder, eliciting a moan from your as he palmed that area you were keeping your troubles.

“So tense, angel,” he mused, pushing down harder on you, “you should really let me do this more often.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, though your voice was muffled by a couch pillow. He snickered and rubbed you down, stopping right above your ass to massage circles into the sides of your tailbone.

Hawks touched you with languid pleasure, lingering on places you gave him more of a reaction. At the pace he was going, you were sure you could have fallen asleep while he touched you, and maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, but that would be impossible when your stalker had a one-track mind.

Hawks gripped hard onto your sides and pulled you up to press his bulge into your ass. Beside yourself, you rolled your hips to you rubbed against it, prompting Hawks to let out a groan.

“God, that’s hot,” he breathed, lifting your dress so your ass was on full display to him. He gave it a slap, compelling you to yelp out to him. He chuckled and squeezed your cheek, grinding against you. “You want more, baby?”

“Don’t call me baby-!” That rewarded you with another spank, causing your body to tremble against him.

“Aangeeel,” he drawled, stroking your pussy through the dampened material of your briefs. “You want me touch you?”

He hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulled down, sighing at the sight of his ultimate pleasure. Fingertips slid up and down your glistening folds, making you twitch before he baited your entrance.

“Hawks,” you whined, dipping your hips to try to catch your desire, “don’t tease.”

“Tease?” He swiped right past your clit, snickering when you hissed. “I’d never.”

Both of his hands brushed down to you thighs while he rubbed his scruffy beard against your cheek, humming as if he was doing nothing, as if you weren’t wet and waiting for his tongue, his touch, his anything.

“Tell me you missed me, baby,” he purred against your slit. You moved to to catch his tongue, but he only snickered at your lame attempt, squeezing your thighs and clicking his tongue. “Ah, you give a little, you get a little amiright?”

He raked his nails across your skin, enjoying the sight of your fragile flesh reacting to him. “So go on. Why don’t you tell me how badly you’ve craved me since I’ve been away?”

“That suggests that you’ve been away,” you growled into the pillow in sheer defiance. You knew, you knew what game he was playing. He was going to taunt you until you were so desperate, so needy for him, until you were sopping wet without him even touching you. It’d happen plenty of times in the past, and you were already letting him do that now. You couldn’t let that happen. You didn’t care. Nothing was going to change the way he felt about you, nor you him.

You hoped he couldn’t hear the roll of your eyes as you finally muttered, “I missed you. I craved you.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your lack of enthusiasm and you felt the heat of his presence disappear. Fuck.

You turned to see him leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, arms crossed, waiting for your attention.

“Hawks?” It was stupid, it was childish, but you knew he had a point when he said ‘you give a little, you get a little.’ He did give you a back massage… and he didn’t even have to come in the first place! God, he was playing brat and you were letting him get inside your head. If you weren’t so needy…

You found yourself crawling over to him. It was exactly what he wanted; you giving him a pathetic and desperate display and though you hated yourself for it, you could drink about it later. You ran your hands up his chest, leaning against his neck as you say, “I meant it.”

You nuzzled yourself within the crook of his neck, peppering him with kisses. “I missed you. I really did, Hawks. And now, I want you so badly that it hurts. Please touch me.”

“You don’t mean it,” he said, though his hands caressed your back. “You’d rather me leave.”

“Hawks.” You brought your hand up to his face to turn him towards you. You gave him a light kiss, but he didn’t return it, still his hands ran across your body. It was a facade, he was playing you, and you were letting him. Your hand slid down his torso towards his trousers, not surprised to find his hardened erection poking out a tent in them, you began to stroke. “Keigo… please.”

A grin struck his face. Bastard. Finally, he leaned into your kiss, and you let his tongue explore your mouth while he undid his belt. You pushed your hands past his boxers and firmly grasped his cock. Hawks cooed. Like an actual coo, just how birds do. You could laugh if you didn’t actually get turned on by it.

You pressed into a more deeper kiss, gasping when he seized the back of your head. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling away and saying, “then show me, angel. Show me just how much you want me.”

He looked to your lips then down to his cock. You pouted. He smirked. “I can just leave.”

Yeah. You could. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him to fuck you. Beside yourself, you slid off the couch and took a position between his legs. You kissed his thighs, and using your tongue, you ran a hot strip up to his shaft. His wings bristled at the contact, encouraging you to lay your lips over the head of his cock. You lulled your tongue over him, enjoying the sight of his chest rising as you took your time pleasing him. His hands went to your head and he tried to push you down, but you sent him a death glare, opting to lap at his head before taking him in on your own accord.

“Mmmmm, you know exactly how to suck a cock.” He sighed as he gently massaged your scalp, while your tongue swirled around him. “Such a dirty girl, ready to please me when I give her a simple nod, isn’t that right?”

You hummed at the praise, not even minding the degradation. You dug your fingernails into his thighs and bobbed your head up and down his length, his subtle groans egging you on to take him in deeper.

“That’s right, you’re a good little slut for me.”

You moaned, the vibrations of your voice making your job all the more pleasurable for him. He weaved his fingers through your hair, hissing as you picked up the pace. He continued to curse at you, to dirty your name while you opened your throat up to him, taking him in completion.

“Fuck,” he growled, “waitwaitwait, ahah…” He pulled you off of him by a fistful of your hair and you scowled in disbelief back at him.

“What?”

“Come here.” He pulled you into his lap and forced his lips onto yours. He kissed you with fearless passion, lips molding to lips, teeth colliding with teeth. You tried to share you voice, to ask why he stopped you, but your words are lost to him. You felt his cockhead rub against your slit, and you know— he didn’t want his influence anywhere but inside your heat.

You dipped your hips and broke your kiss by moaning at his swollen member pressing into you.

“Oh fuck yeah, that’s my good girl. You know how great that feels? How tight you are for me? God, I missed this, babygirl.”

You rolled your hips, grinding into him, your pussy squeezing his cock with every word he spat in your direction. He felt incredible and you felt so hot while riding him, that you couldn’t help but laugh while wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Look at you enjoying yourself. I love seeing my angel happy. You know this could happen more often, if only you’d let me in.”

You had to remind yourself: Hawks was dangerous. His feelings for you were dangerous. Every time you let him into your home, into your body, you were allowing his delusions to grow to something more profound than they already were. You panted and stilled, raring yourself to pull off of him, but he grabbed you by your hips.

“Hawks,” you warned, scared he’d see both the reason and the fear in your eyes.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.” His tone took a darker timbre, his eyes growing wicked. The corners of his lips twitched up, his canine teeth appearing to be sharper, more sinister than usual. Slowly he leaned towards your ear, his hot breath sending a shudder down your spine as we ever so calmly whispered, “you’re mine, do you hear me?”

In one swift movement, Hawks picked you up and threw you to the opposite side of the couch, climbing on top of you before you could even think to move, caging you in by not only his arms, but his wings as well. His lips latched into your neck, his cock pressing right back into you as he sucked a red hot mark into your flesh. “Mine.”

You moaned and pulled at his feathers when he began pounding into you. He looked at you, drinking in your conflicted expression and returning it with one of sheer adoration, affirming you with sweet words as he completely ruined you.

“You’ll always be my girl,” he growled, his cock stretching you out while his thrusts grew more violent. Besides your knowing fear, beside the pain you felt as he slammed into you, you felt your stomach grow tense, you felt pleasure building up, and you couldn’t hide how great you felt because of it when you allowed yourself to whimper for him, displaying your dishonorable satisfaction by incomprehensible blurbles. “Say it, angel.”

“Yes, hah~hah~ baby.” You mustered out, not following his demand. He chuckled at your pitiful attempt and reached up to squeeze your mouth between his hand.

“Say that you’re mine, sweetheart. Say it and I’ll be good to you.”

“Mmmmpph Hawks~!”

Hawks grinned and shoved his tongue into your mouth, reaching down to cup your sweat-covered breast. He bit your bottom lip with bruising force—you might’ve even tasted blood— and pulled back. “Baby, my name tastes so good on your tongue, but that’s not wanna hear right now.”

“Hawks!” your cunt pulsated around him, massaging his ruthless cock. God, you were close, so close you were practically writhing underneath him, and all you had to do was say one little thing. You’d let him win once already tonight, a second time couldn’t be too harmful. “I’m yours, baby. Yours. I belong to you. Nobody can make me feel like this. It’s like we were… made for each other.”

“You got that fuckin’ right.” He reached down to rub furious circles around your swollen clit and that was your tipping point. Electricity seemed to shoot up from your toes and flare over your core, waves of pleasure dancing out from there. You cried out for Hawks not to stop and he obliged, making sure to swallow your mewls, placing sloppy open mouth kisses over yours.

He chased your orgasm with his own, but not before you begged him not to do it inside you. He groaned, but respecting your wishes, he pulled out at the last second, spilling his white hot seed onto your chest, hissing as he did so. He vocally panted as he took in his handy work, wiping the sweat off his forehead, grinning wickedly down at you.

His body fell on top of you, mushing the mess between your shared embrace. It was nasty. It was hot. It was trouble.

His fingers tip-toed across your arm before reaching behind your back to push room for him to climb behind you. He held you close, whispering in your ears sweet, delightful, dangerous things, praising you, loving you, owning you.

It was the bitter truth; you’d always be his. Since you finally admitted to it, he wasn’t ever going to let you go.

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING: @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter@unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @rubycubix @smbody-stole-mycar-radio@zellllyyyy @sarcastictextstuck @kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen@psionicsnow @wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn @im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai @eggpienutbuttercroissant@usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello

#hawks x reader #tw yandere #tw dubcon #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #yandere!au #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #Yandere!hawks #Yandere!hawks x reader #bnha #mha #reader insert #bnha reader insert #kiego takami #kiego takami x reader #yandere bnha

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serialreblogger · 4 years ago

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Hey! I'm thinking of reading Dracula, and knowing that's your eternal hyperfixation, I wanted to ask your thoughts, if you had any comments, suggestions, ect.

HEY WHY DIDN’T I SEE THIS SOONER I’M SO SORRY FRIEND

okay okay okay okay (...several people are typing...) SO

the first thing you should be aware of when reading Dracula is that it’s quite Victorian, so you might find it easier, especially on a first read, to get an annotated version (the Norton Critical Edition version is quite good) that puts footnotes in to explain all the outdated references to like, London penny-meat merchants and stuff. I would say it’s significantly easier to read than Lord of the Rings, but because it was written 200 years ago the difference in language means it’s not a simple read. (However, if you have absolutely any attraction to the Gothic aesthetic, Dracula is so very much worth the brainpower to slog through the rougher sentences. Like. “...the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the moonlit sky.” The whole book is like that. A bit stilted to contemporary readers, but also breathtakingly spot-on in its Spooky Factor.)

the second thing you should be aware of is that Dracula is extremely gay, but in a Tormented Victorian Closeted way. There’s a part where Jonathan climbs out a window that just. It’s uh. The descriptions are very,, metaphorical-sounding. Again, the whole book is like that, and sometimes it’s very fun and sometimes (lookin at Lucy’s whole thing) it’s significantly more unsettling if you pay attention to the weirdly sexy descriptions of how the protagonists interact with the vampires, but I think that’s part of what I find so fascinating about Dracula--it’s unsettling and strange and the pieces don’t fit together clearly, and I still don’t know quite what to make of it, but all the same the feeling of what Stoker’s saying comes through quite clearly. There’s a reason why so many Dracula adaptations have this narrative of a protagonist falling in forbidden love with the tormented Vampyre, yknow? There’s something so unmistakeably sympathetic about the character of Dracula, even when the narrative of the story goes out of its way to establish that he has no redeeming qualities or even proper personhood, that he’s just a monster. Because there’s something about the story (even without getting into the whole “Mina and Jon murked their boss” thing) that makes a reader wonder if that’s really the whole truth. If there isn’t something tragic about Dracula. If there isn’t something in him, if not of goodness, then at least of sorrow, instead of only fear.

Anyway I digress but I think we all knew that was gonna happen; point is: Jonathan and Dracula definitely had sex, Mina and Lucy were definitely in love, Seward’s got something weird goin on with the old professor (and also he’s just very weird, full stop. sir. sir please stop experimenting on your asylum inmates. sir i know this is victorian england but please Do Not), and Quincey, well, Quincey is an American cowboy with a bowie knife, and I think that’s all we really need to know.

ok and! the third thing you should be aware of is The Racism. Imperialist Britain, yo. Bram Stoker was Irish so like, it isn’t half as bad as some other authors of his time period (Rudyard Kipling anyone), but the racism is real and I don’t wanna gloss over that. The g**sy slur is used with abandon for a huge assortment of people groups, there’s a tacit as well as overt acceptance of the idea that West is superior to East, and because the educational system where I grew up is a joke and I can only learn things if I accidentally fall down the wikipedia hole of researching the insect genus hemiptera, i genuinely still don’t know how accurate the extensive history of Romania recounted in the first third of the book actually is. Oh also casual and blatant anti-blackness is verbalized by a character at least once. I’m pretty sure the racism has a metaphorical place in the framework of Dracula’s storytelling, but I couldn’t tell you what it is because I am not going to bother putting myself in the mindset of a racist white Victorian man. This is the mindset I am trying to unlearn. So: read with caution, critical thinking, and the double knowledge that even as the narrators are meant to be unreliable, so too is the author himself.

Finally, regarding interpretation: so personally I’m running with the opinion that Dracula is, at least partly, a metaphor for Stoker’s own queerness and internal conflict re: being queer, being closeted, and watching the torture his friend Wilde went through when the wealthy father of Wilde’s lover set out to ruin his life for daring to love his son. Whether this is true or not (I think it’s true, but hey, that’s analysis, baby), you can’t understand Dracula without knowing the social context for it (as with all literature--the author isn’t dead, not if you want to know what they were saying), and the social context for it is:

- Stoker was friends with Wilde, growing only closer after Wilde was outed

- Wilde was outed, as I said, because the father of his lover was wealthy and powerful and full of the most virulent kind of hatred. This is especially interesting because of how many rich, powerful parents just straight up die in Dracula and leave the main characters with no legal issues and a ridiculous amount of money, which is the diametrical opposite of what happened to Wilde

- Stoker idolized his mentor Henry Irving. Irving was a paradigm of unconventional relationships and self-built family, in a world where divorcees and children born out of wedlock were things to be whispered about in scandalized tones, not people to love and embrace. Irving was also famous for thriving off of manipulating those close to him and pitting friends against each other. Given the painstakingly vivid description Stoker provides for his titular vampire and how closely it matches Irving’s own appearance and demeanor, Irving was widely understood even at the time of writing to be the chief inspiration for the character of Dracula

- the book is dedicated to Stoker’s close friend, Hall Caine, a fellow writer whose stories centered around love triangles and accumulation of sins which threaten to ruin everything, only to be redeemed by the simple act of human goodness

- Stoker was Irish, but not Catholic (he was a Protestant of the Church of Ireland, a division of the Anglican Church). This may come as a surprise when you read the book and see All The Catholicism, Just Everywhere. Religion is actually a key theme in Dracula--most of the main characters start out your typical Good Victorian Anglican Skeptics, and need to learn through a trial-by-fire to trust in the rituals and relics of the Catholic Church to save them from Dracula’s evilness. Which is interesting. Because not only do these characters start off as dismissive towards these “superstitions” (in the same way they dismiss the “superstitions” of the peasant class on the outskirts of Dracula’s domain), but the narrative telling us “these superstitions are actually true!” cannot be trusted, when you know the author’s own beliefs.

(Bram Stoker is not saying what his characters are saying. This is the first and most important rule to remember, if you want to figure out Dracula.)

- The second-most famous character in the novel, after Dracula himself, is Van Helsing, whose first name is Abraham. Note that “Bram” is a declension of Abraham. What does this mean? I legitimately have no idea. But it’d be a weird coincidence, right? Like what even is the thought process there? “Oh, yeah, what should I name this character that comes in, makes overtly homoerotic statements willy nilly, and encourages everyone to throw rationality out the window and stake some vampires using the Eucharist? hmmmm how about ‘Me’”

ok wait FINAL final note: you legitimately do not have to care about any of this. I love Dracula because it has gay vibes and I love trying to figure it out, like an archaeologist sifting through sentence structure to find fragments that match the patterns I already know from historical research; but that’s not why you should love Dracula. The book itself is just straight up fun to read. Like I said, Stoker absolutely nails the exact vibe of spookiness that I love, the eerieness and elegance and vague but vivid fear of a full moon crossed by clouds at midnight. The characters are intriguing, especially Quincey gosh I love Quincey Morris but they’re very,, sweet? if i can say that about people i, personally, suspect of murder? They come together and protect each other against the terrible threat that is Dracula, and you don’t get that half as often as I’d like in horror media. I don’t even know if Dracula could qualify as “horror” proper, because it’s not about the squeamish creeping discomfort that “horror” is meant to evoke, it’s not the appeal of staring at a train wreck--it’s not horrifying. It’s eerie. It’s Gothic. It has spires and vampires and found family and cowboys, and to be honest, I don’t know what could be better than that.

#dracula #linden writes an essay #linden's originals #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK FRIEND I WILL ALWAYS WANT TO INFODUMP ABOUT DRACULA #ask linden

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the-genesis-caveat · 3 years ago

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Yo! I suck at asking questions, but I'd love to hear you infodump about your OCs! They both look super cool :D

~ Colby

:D yay hehe (under the cut because it’s long)

mkay mkay so as i said in the drawing posts, they're two of my very first ocs that i made in third grade. jj was a character i'd roleplay as during recess long before i knew what rp was, which i find hilarious. i don't remember exactly what their names originally were, but for the sake of the redesign/revamp jj's full name is jordan hawkins jr and red's full name is probably something pretentious like alistair redmond (they prefer to go by redmond or red)

in the context of creaturae, they likely live in the city somewhere, or on one of the more corrupt city-fragments that orbit the main planet. they're something between vigilantes and supervillains, causing minor troubles but never actually endangering anyone seriously, and often do more good than harm. but they're WAY outside any form of law and will continue to operate as such.

in the original group back when i created it, there were two more characters. keeping with the color themes they were named "white" and "black", which matched both their uniform color and their skin colors. which. rip my third grade self but i did have jj set off explosives at his school to get out of class in his very first backstory so. yeah. anyway, those two characters are scrapped as of now, but i might rework them into the story as red's civilian friends

age-wise jj and red are both adults, though i'm not sure exactly how old? early twenties at the oldest. they're renting a place together and try to keep a low profile as civilians so they can do whatever as vigilantes. they're also probably dating but i haven't thought about that too much.

their theme song is bus money by the chats (if you wanna listen, tw for drugs/alcohol/smoking mentions) and i'd say it fits their general vibe pretty well XD

jj is chaotic as fuck and probably would go completely off the rails and get arrested if red wasn't there to keep him in line. they're both the brains of the operation, but red has more patience and all the self-control of the duo.

i haven't thought of proper aliases for them yet, since jj's original alias 'bluejay/jay' is being used by my current main oc(s), and red's just became his nickname. i did give them a logo though! it's the bird-lookin thing on the chest of their uniforms

uhhh that's about all i can think of at the moment, thanks for listening heh

#creaturae #oc #ocs #drug mention #alcohol mention #smoking mention #<briefly #long post

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frankpanioncube · 3 years ago

Text

Accidental Drunken Marriage Proposal

I like Mammon and Winter together. They’re ‘Just Friends’.

Winter sat at the table, staring at the glass half full...empty...of whiskey, or rather, past it. It was her second...or maybe third. The food was pretty good. The music was good. The human exchange student had come up with the theme and normally Winter could get behind some human world revelry. Yeah she could get why demons did this.

The fact of the matter was that she wasn’t in very much of a party mood. Maybe those around sensed it as she’d been given a wide berth.

Maybe it was the fact she reeked of alcohol.

Maybe it was definitely the fact she felt a little jilted given that the subject of her affections - one sports captain and Avatar of Gluttony was very obviously interested in someone else and she was definitely drinking away any temptation to be too envious.

“Hey hey, what the hell? I been lookin’ for ya. S’party time…? Hey? Devildom to Winter? Second Circle of Hell cause soooomeone’s lookin’ mightly lustful Better look out for Asmo! Oh no yer sad. Sad Winter.”

“Huh?” A sort of faintly blurry brown skinned hand swam into view, waving in front of her face. “Oh...Mammon.”

The table rocked a bit as he pulled out a chair and slid into it. “Geez. I thought you’d be up for some fun at a ball, but I don’t think you can dance without falling over. So what’s eating you?”

Winter’s lip trembled.

“So what’s NOT eating yo--”

“Y’ever think...you’re going to…” Winter struggled to remember what she was saying. Whatever the blur was saying seemed unimportant. “Um…never...be with...anyone?”

Mammon shook his head. “Ohhhhkay someone’s pretty drunk. So.. Time to get ya outta here.”

“If...if I...dun...dun...uh...have a’yone else….we should get married.”

Mammon stumbled in the middle of hoisting her up and almost dropped her. Or maybe she’d stumbled.

“Wit’ a biiiiig party…like this one. But better.”

Mammon paused mid eye roll. “And presents.” he mused.

“An’ lots of pres’nts.”

***

Winter awoke, her head screaming pain. Even an angel couldn’t shake off the amount of alcohol she’d consumed last night.

This was her punishment for her indulgence. She brought a hand to her head, only to feel...fabric?

She looked at her hand. Why exactly was she wearing gold gloves?

Hopping up from the bed with confusion overriding her headache, she took a glance at herself in the mirror of her unfamiliar surroundings. A very...gaudy hotel room if she had to guess, but the full length gold ball gown and matching gloves and veil sat haphazard on her head offered her no clues as to what had happened.

Her DDD was in fact there, threatening to vibrate off the night stand. Maybe it could give some insight as to what had gone on and perhaps where the corpses of the award statues that had been skinned to make this dress were buried.

She nearly tripped over a discarded pair of gold heels - clearly some kind of theme here.

There were hundreds of messages. And that was no exaggeration.

Lucifer: I must say I am not sure whether to refer you to a psychotherapist or to thank you for taking this burden off my hands. Rest assured I will not be providing any tacky or extravagant gifts. Weird. Lucifer offering gifts? What...burden had she lifted from him? They barely spoke and...her birthday wasn’t for months! Okay, maybe another one would offer more insight.

Winter scrolled randomly to the middle of the pile

Asmobaby: I would have loved to dressed you darling, but if that’s what you two wanted, I will respect that. And you looked lovely dear. You will have to tell me every detail of your night! I must know everything!

...so apparently she had WANTED to look like this. Her eyes zeroed in on the ‘two’.

Sorry Asmo, I’m as in the dark as you are.

Beezleburger: I was surprised. If you want some time away from the team I understand. Congrats.

Time off the team for...OH….she’d been upset about Beel liking….but she hadn’t SAID anything. Not to mention if she had, he wouldn’t be congratulating her OR asking her if she’d like to take off time from the team. For WHAT? Couldn’t someone just tell her WHAT she had done?

Heavenly Father, this really was a punishment.

Belphie: Hey sorry we didn’t get you were depressed but there’s no reason to do something like that.

So. This was getting her nowhere fast.

She dropped the DDD into her skirts and sighed, but at that moment the door handle chose to turn.

It opened surprisingly slowly to reveal…

“Hey hey! You’re up!”

Mammon abandoned the door to slam, but he had a bucket of ice and right now she’d never been so happy to see anyone.

“Oh thank goodness.”

“What ya think I’d just leave ya here? Geez, that ain’t no way to speak of yer husband. What kinda demon do ya think I am?!”

“Shh, Mammon. Please, not so loud. I know you wouldn’t...I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

“What kinda--”

“No the...husband?”

“I mean after the workout you gave Goldie last night, I gotta say I better damn well be yer husband.”

“We…” And it was starting to come back. Mammon dragging her onto the table and yelling at the crowd. Stumbling with him into the limousine. The dress and the cake and all the champagne and the… “...top floor penthouse.” she finished. “That’s….all we did, right?”

She’d still looked very much like herself when she’d been looking in the mirror, but that dress was um...eye-catching. She put her hands in her hair as though to look for horns instead of a halo.

“Whaddya mean ‘that’s all’? That was like a threeway and everything was complete--oh US. Not a chance. You were very, very drunk Winter. I wouldn’t do that.”

Winter sighed and sagged against him. “I know. I’m sorry, Mammon. I wish I remembered more of this...but headache aside, this is nice. More than nice.” It was too. Even the silly dress and well, if no one else appreciated Mammon, she always did. He was impulsive and a demon and The Avatar of Greed - one of the mortal sins, but he was her friend and he obviously wanted to be with her. “Thanks. Can I just rest properly...for a bit?”

He let her inch closer to him and she sighed, just a little. Normally it was the other way around wasn’t it?

“Oi, don’t nap for too long...I can’t wait to get started.”

“S’alright…” As she drifted off, her last thought was “...for what?”

Winter woke up feeling much better. The dress and gloves had been discarded and Mammon had helped her into a shirt over the slip she had worn under the dress. The demon himself was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a mess of boxes and tissue paper.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped and grabbed for a few things before relaxing. “Sorry I started without ya, but you weren’t wakin’ up.”

“Started what?”

He smirked. “Opening all the presents of course! I mean, like ya said last night. Big wedding, lotsa presents.” He jerked a thumb over at the wrapping paper and boxes.

The words hit Winter like a slap to the face. This wasn’t about her friend wanting to be with HER and indeed it never had been. And they called Mammon a fool.

“Whatchya lookin’’ like that for? I mean, Marigold yellow I know, right, but ya don’t have to make such a scary face over a blender…”

“This was all about the gifts. Just that.”

“Was gonna share of course. I mean, it was your idea and it was a damn good one. C’mon…Plus I bought ya that dress, the party, the hotel room…”

“You have signed the bill “IOU ONE GOLD HEAVEN PAVEMENT - GOD.”

Mammon shrugged. “Hey’s custom fer yer dad ta pay fer half the wedding right?”

“That’s besides the point!” Winter hadn’t realized she had started to cry.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hey, stop...i mean don’t…”

“You are...a CRUEL demon and an absolutely MISERABLE excuse for a friend!” And Winter hauled her fist back and let fly, feeling the blow connect, but unable to see where through her tears and not caring to as she went racing from the room, out through the front and into the first taxi she’d seen, seeking out the one place she had for sanctuary in the entirety of the Devildom.

The women’s locker room behind the stadium. Winter wasn’t JUST the only angel on the team, she happened to be the only female as well and so the women’s locker room was one spot she was guaranteed to never be bothered.

Mammon knew he’d done Winter dirty. The angel had always defended him, always had been kind. The blow she’d landed hadn’t even been hard but those words had hurt. He managed to check out, asking for the things in the room to be delivered to the House of Lamentation and set off for Purgatory Hall.

He steeled himself and knocked at the front door. Who knew what you were gonna get in this den.

“Mammon.Are you looking for Winter? I would have thought she would be with you. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Ugh, that’s just it. I uh...I kinda...messed up.” he muttered. “I wanna find her. I mean. I know I gotta apologize for somethin’ but I ain’t even sure what it is. But she’s the only one of ya I can stand and so I gotta figure it out. Cause like, she’s...my friend. But she was the one who wanted ta get married and get tons of presents an’ I gave her a great wedding.”

“She didn’t want to get married to you just for presents. Now I recognize she was intoxicated to the teeth but...I know something about having a best mate in the world whom you come to love.” Siemon’s expression was inscrutable. “And something about making a mistake with them. The longer you allow this to fester, the harder it will be to fix. So, I think you should try the ladies’ locker room at the stadium.”

“I can’t go into a ladies toilet!”

“I think this time you should be allowed.”

And with that Siemon closed the door, leaving Mammon to his decision.

The demon went.

***

Winter deleted all the well wishes from her DDD, which had taken her mind off things for a while. The bench wasn’t comfortable but the silence of the space was nice.

Until….Did the door just open?

“Winter? Okay. Before you tell me ta ‘go away’ just listen. I did think ya just wanted...presents. An’ a party. But I…” Mammon sighed. “Alright look. I didn’t need presents or a party to want ta be with ya. I kinda like ‘husband’ actually. Means you’re mine ya know? “

Winter looked at him, sniffling a bit again.

“I’m that bad at this? Geez..”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just...do you mean it?”

“Swear it on Goldie.”

The angel got up. “Maybe we could have a small party. With not a ton of alcohol or grand extravagant gestures.”

“That’d be nice. An’ ya know I’m not the only one who's bad at this. I mean your first proposal was drunk and your second was in a ladies’ toilet.”

“...well I suppose then you’ll have to make the next one. Perhaps in a moderately priced private hotel room.”

@beels-burger-babe

#frankpanioncube writes #obey me #fanfiction #mammon #mammon x oc #mentions of alcohol

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