#I’m crying vomiting going nuts about this

[hypster-weebster]

YES YES FINALLY LETS GO HYPSTERS

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic anime #hypmic rhyme anima+ #upcoming anime #season 2 #ichiro yamada #buster bros #samatoki aohitsugi #mad trigger crew #ramuda amemura #fling posse #jakurai jinguji #matenrou #kuko harai #badass temple #sasara nurude #dotsuitare hompo #BAT & DH ANIME DEBUT GUYS 😭😭🥺💗💗 #I’m crying vomiting going nuts about this #any thoughts about it? 👉🏻👈🏻

[arkhamsrevenge]

Lost and Resurrected Pt. 2

A little while later, Jason and I were still walking away from the house of Al Ghul.  

“Alive.” Jason finally whispered.  

“Yeah. Yeah, we both are.” I whispered back.  

“No, no, the Joker’s still alive. He killed me and he’s still alive to murder and maim and hurt others. Why didn’t Batman...why didn’t...” 

“Why didn’t Batman kill the Joker? He hasn’t any other time the Joker killed someone.” I said softly.  

“I’m different. I was Robin.” HOLD THE PHONE WHAT?!?! 

“You-I-UH what?” I stuttered. Jason stopped walking. “You’re..you were Robin so that means you personally knew Batman. And Batman is Bruce Wayne.” I can’t believe I didn't put that together sooner. Shit. Jason nodded slowly.  

“How’d you put that together?” 

“I know you’re the boy Jason Todd who died in a bombing in Ethiopia caused by The Joker.” I answered.  

“Who are you?” Jason asked. I blinked, realizing we never got far introduction wise.   

“Y/N L/N.” I answered.   “Wait. Elliots kid?” I nodded. “You’re the daughter of Thomas Elliot the world-famous doctor.?” I nodded again. “You’re supposed to be dead.” I smirked.   “So are you.” Jason shook his head.  

“Fuck. This is nuts. Do you remember what happened?”  

“Uh, no. I remember my dad calling to me and then nothing. I woke up in the pit, then I was next to you.” I lowered my eyes.  

“Huh.” Then Jason kept walking. I followed him, like a lost puppy. Where was I supposed to go? Suddenly Jason stopped and turned back around. “I have no idea how to even tell you this, but your father is dead. Shot by the Joker after he abused an Oprea.” Jason’s vomit left me speechless. How long have I been dead? My father’s now dead? Why wasn’t I crying or breaking down? What’s wrong with me? 

“How do you know?” I asked calmly. Jason’s eyes were burning into me waiting for a bigger reaction.  

“I-was there. Next to Bruce Wayne.” I blinked, hello? Why aren’t I sad? 

“They were childhood best friends.” I stated. Jason seemed to be waiting, for a tear, a sob, anything.  

“Yeah.” 

“Huh.” I mimicked Jason’s cool tone from earlier then started walking again. Jason soon followed behind me.  

“Where are we going?” Jason asked.  

“I don’t know to be honest.” I answered.  

“Are you ok?” Jason’s tone was odd, like he was sort of freaked out. I stopped to face him.  

“Uh, yeah. I’m...good.” I said smiling. I felt pretty good, free.  

“Really?” Jason grabbed my shoulders hard, bringing me close. “Because I just flat out told you that your father is dead and you’re smiling.” He said through his teeth. His grip was stronger than before and HURT. But still, I wasn't upset or felt scared. Just nothing. “Yeah. As I said, I’m good.” I blinked not knowing what else he wanted. Jason studied with me a bit more. “You’re gonna leave bruises.” I finally said after a couple of minutes of silence. Jason let go instantly. Like I was the one hurting him. 

“Sorry. I just...I’m angry right now.” I shrugged.  

“You have every right to be. Batman’s supposed to protect people. Protect you and when he didn’t. He could have at least killed the Joker. I mean, he killed you, his Robin.” Jason’s eyes met mine.  

“Batman never did care about his Robins anyway. I think I know why I was brought back.” I tilted my head. “I’m back to do what must be done. I’m going to kill Batman. I’m to kill the myth of him as well.” Jason growled.  

“Funny thing about a myth. It wasn’t real to begin with.” I said my eyes were brightening. Jason thought for a second, his brow furrowed. He swallowed and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but was hesitant.  

“I’d like to help.” I said, taking his anxiety away a bit. Jason relaxed his brow.  

“OK.” I smiled again.  

“OK.” I stretched out my hand to Jason. He took my hand into his. He’s still cold. His hands felt like ice.  

“OK Y/N, keep up. You’re in for a hell of a ride.”  

Jason took me back to Gotham City where he is currently in a ridiculous-looking black wet suit attaching a bomb to the Batmobile. I watched, ready with the detonator in hand. Jason was going to give a signal when he was all set and out of range.  He attached the bomb successfully and slunk away.  I watched him like a hawk. He perched himself a couple of feet away from my hiding spot. Batman appeared and got into his Batmobile. My thumb sat on the trigger; eyes focused on Jason. Waiting for him to give me the signal. My heart pounded in my ears, my lips were dry, and my eyes were starting to sting from not blinking. Afraid I’d miss the signal, but it never came. Jason just kept staring at the Batmobile. Eventually, it drove away.  I molded into the shadows as Jason made his way back over to me. Without a word he took the detonator and started walking away. I followed a few inches behind him.  Soon we entered our safe house. 2 bedrooms, one bath, and a small kitchen. All founded by Talia.   

“It’s not what you guys think.” Jason finally said his back hunched, hands gripping the sink. “I didn’t lose my nerve.” Talia appeared behind me, her eyes flickering to me and then back to Jason. “I just...it would have been too easy.” I breathed out a laugh.  

“You want more.” Jason faced Talila and me. “You want more, yes?” Jason closed his eyes and nodded. “So, let’s take more than just the myth. Let’s take the city, the wealth, the crime. EVERYTHING. Watch him watch his city turn on him, then end him. That part you do yourself of course.” I added. Jason opened his eyes and a ghost of a smirk appeared.  

“You’re nuts. But right. I want all that and more. Will you help me?” Jason asked.  

“Me or Talia?” I questioned. Jason paused for a moment.  

“Both.” I turned to Talia.  

“Of course,” she stated, lowering her eyes. I didn’t know it then, but she would tell me later that at that moment she realized she had released a curse upon this world.  

Talia paid for us to spend time with this German named Egon. He’s a hit make for hire with...side hustles let's say and drinks the same gross ass cherry energy drink all day. Wonder how this guy sleeps but anyway, he refused to teach me because I’m a woman but at night when everyone's asleep, Jason teaches me everything. I also...stole some books from Egon. He has a lot of books on the mystic arts. Heaven knows why but during the day when Jason is training, I teach myself magic. There’s some dark shit in here but hey, this will give us an advantage. So, I read practice, and learn all I can. I even wrote all my shit in code that only I read just in case some of Egon’s guys go snooping. One of them already tried something with me. It was late, Jason was asleep, just came back from getting x-rays of his ribs, they were broken but I fixed them. He just needed to sleep off the wave of exhaustion that took over him after he was finally not in pain, though he tried to hide it from me. I had walked to the bathroom, usually, Jason would have been with me as he insists on doing so, (I don’t know why concerning he doesn’t care if I die but whatever). Anyway, I was walking back when a man whistled at me. I ignored it when,  

“It’s not polite to ignore someone,” I remember picking up the pace a bit more annoyed if anything.  “Hey, bitch. I’m talking to you!” This guy roared and grabbed me by the throat, pinning me against the wall. “I haven’t been this close to a woman long.” His breath reeked of tobacco.   “And you won’t get this one.” I sneered, I raised my hand and grabbed the one holding my throat. It broke instantly. The man screamed in agony on his knees. I grabbed his jaw and snapped that too. “Now you can’t use this dirty mouth for a while.” And then I left him there, screaming. Jason had woken up from the noise, noticed I was gone, and met me just before I entered our room. He was about to yell at me when his eyes caught something on my neck. I bet that jackass left a mark. Oh well. “Yes?” I questioned. His eyes slowly looked back up at mine. He then moved aside and let me walk into our shared room. I was headed for my bed when Jason caught my wrist. He closed the door behind him and locked it. Jason’s hand moved from my wrist to the top of my back, the other clicked the light switch above us. He then slowly bent me backward; taking his free hand and placing it behind my head. I was confused at first but then realized he was trying to look at my neck more closely but didn’t want me to stain it by looking up. I didn’t dare move, but we stayed like that for a couple of seconds until he brought me back up again. My eyes never leaving him, I wondered what on earth was going through his head. Then, then, he did something even odder, he took the hand that was resting on the top of my back and started to trace all over my throat.  

“Does this hurt?” Jason’s voice was quiet. We’ve been here 3 months and never once had he acted like...this. Whatever this is. I stepped away from him slowly. Taking his hand in mine and placing it by his side.  

“No. I’m good. Go back to sleep, you had broken ribs today.” Jason was about to say something when I clicked the light back off. But that morning, Jason was Jason again. Scoffing at me reading all the “magic bullshit” books that LITERALLY healed his ribs not too long ago. He complained like always at the end of the day when I asked him to teach me everything, he learned that day. Even though Jason constantly told me I was a pain in his ass, he never went to sleep without knowing I mastered everything he had.   

“Hey, Princess,” Ah and yes Jason started calling me ‘Princess’ cause I’m cooped up all day reading like I’m locked in a tower. I closed my book and looked up at him.  

“Yeah?” I called back.  

“We gotta go.” I blinked  

“Why?”  

“Egon’s running a child trafficking ring and we gotta catch up to the truck he has with all the kids in it and then kill him.” Jason explained. I sat there for a second, then raised my hand, and instantly all our things were packed up.  

“OK, lead the way.”  

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason peter todd #red hood x y/n #jason todd x reader #red hood imagine

[sims-inmymouth]

Delilah Five - Ep. 4

Trigger Warnings: Violence (against zombies, pictured, described); death; blood (pictured, described); nausea and vomiting (described)

Jan 15, 20XX

Today… wasn’t a very good day. Where to begin with it all? I like to do things in order, so I’ll start in the very beginning.

Tamah must’ve been working during the night, because our chickens are gone and in their stead is a highland cow. We named her Gilead. I guess that makes us the Delilah Six now? I told Tamah this, and she said no, because six is a bad number. I tried to ask Theo what on earth that meant, and she didn’t know. Tamah’s kind of a God nut, I guess. I hung out with Theo for a while; we planted some mushrooms and harvested apples.

Everything felt so.. normal. I accidentally started a fire on the stove while making stew. It scared the hell out of me! Theo met a fox friend and fed him some of the burned scraps of fish from the stew I obliterated. I felt really, really sick from all the burning and the smell of that fish.

Then came the bad parts. Hard to find even worse parts after starting a fire and getting soot-caked, but fate just wanted to see me cry today! Tamah and I went out on a mission to find survivors. We went up north and found a big wooden house. It was rotten and just flooded with zombies. Now, I’ve seem zombies before. Kinda bluish-green-gray, smell absolutely awful, have a bit of a biting problem. But I’ve never fought one before. I was so excited! I wanted to be like Tamah. I’ve known her for a few months now, and I wanted to make her proud! 

There were about maybe twenty zombies. There was a girl, she had short brown hair. A thin jacket. She was really skinny. She said she had been hiding out by the house when it got swarmed by a horde.

Tamah got to work killing the things. It looked really easy. I pulled out my handgun and followed after her. The first zombie I ever killed was wearing a jersey and these nice mint-green pants. He.. he got back up after the first shot. But I got him again.

The girl stayed behind Tamah. A zombie snuck up behind her and bit her. I watched as she fell to the ground, and two of the things swarmed her and ate her flesh as she died. After a few moments, she stood up again. She was gray and moaning. She was right behind Tamah. I shot the zombie girl. It was a poor shot and clipped the neck of mint-pants, but it stunned her. I got up closer and shot her again. And then I shot mint-pants and two other creatures.

There was blood everywhere when all the zombies were gone. I remember as I keeled over and vomited. I couldn’t breathe through my mouth. My clothes were filthy, my shoes were all red. 

I went home and I showered. The water was cold. Hossannah cut up some melon for me to make me feel better. I guess it did. Tamah gave me a hug and told me I was very brave today.

Um, I never knew the name of the girl I killed. The zombie. It feels nicer to say zombie. Anyways, I want to call her something. It’s hard to remember that these are people in these hordes. Um, I think I’ll call her Abana. Seems like a nice name. Starts with A, not too long, not too short. I’m sorry for shooting you, Abana. I don’t know if zombies can feel pain or not, but I hope you’re somewhere better now. Did you have a favorite fruit? I’d like to plant a fruit tree for you. I’m sorry I hadn’t met you under different circumstances.

I miss meeting people in pleasant ways. I never thought I’d miss school or violin lessons. Maybe Abana could’ve been a college kid, the kind I’d look up at and think *damn, she’s tall*. I think she’d be sad to know a fourteen year old killed her. I’d be pretty sad too. Well, I guess, technically mint-pants killed her first. I just did it again.

Tomorrow, Tamah is going back to the wood house to collect spare timber and any belongings the zombies could’ve dropped. I’m not allowed to go, so I’ll be spending the day with Hossannah and Theodora. I’m a bit grateful for that. I’d like to get to know them better. Sometimes it feels like all they are are the fix-it gardener and Tamah’s personal secretary. And what does that make me? Her little apprentice? It makes me bad, I think. 

I can hear Hossannah and Theo talking as I write. They’re going to try to cheer me up tomorrow. I don’t want to spoil the surprise for them. They’re really determined on making things better. I hope they can. I hope they can.

x Ruth

#sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #my sims #delilahfive #simblr #simlit #sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 zombies #sims story

[improbable-implosions]

Pinned post time!

Tumblr lets you pin posts so I’m pinning my tag list and list of links you can find me other places because my stuff deserves EYES, gosh dang it!

Links first so you maybe can click them!

Twitter (@Glacier_Nester): https://twitter.com/Glacier_Nester 

Twitch (Glacier_Nester): https://www.twitch.tv/glacier_nester

(Live Friday nights for reading books aloud, and Tuesday nights for games, both tabletop and video!)

Youtube (Glacier Nester): www.YouTube.com/user/glaciernester  

(Where all the VODs go after I’m done streaming on twitch, and also other little stray video nonsense I put together!)

Discord server (For the igloo, my fan community): discord.gg/PBZNsjn 

My podcast, Paper Cuts, which is edited down versions of the Friday night books: papercutsbooks.libsyn.com

Last (But not least), my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glacier_Nester/

Now, tags!

Queue.Queue (Queued posts)

Texty Text (text post)

Static (audio post)

A Thousand Words (picture post)

Thousands of Words (video post)

Someone’s Speaking (quote post)

Linky Link (post has links)

Chaotic Conversations (chat post)

Rebagel (a reblogged post)

Kids in a garage (code lyoko)

Glacier’s blitherblather (me talking)

Word Vomit (my writing)

Aspen Forests, Opportune Castles, Razzberry Tart (Posts for specific people)

I’ve got my quarters (Ready player 1)

Doctor whyforhowcome (doctor who)

capture those flags (ingress)

gimme dat (giveaway posts)

send me mail (Ask games)

*wheezes* (I laughed)

I’m cry (sad post)

pitchforks (Activism whatnot)

spacebug (firefly)

ohgodopinions (opinions on things! oh no!)

too many warehouses (warehouse 13)

surelocked (sherlock)

stuck at home (in the trash)

warty hogs (harry potter, damn shame about what Rowling did, hm?)

puntastic (puns I wanna find again)

monsters in my pocket (pokemon)

the gamiest grumps you ever will see (game grumps)

asawow academeme (asagao)

boxing club is best club (asagao fight club)

in like flynn (tron)

Back in Time (back to the future)

glowing arby’s (night vale)

rushing to post (rush)

terrible phd (dr. horrible)

Blue corn chips (percy jackson)

schween:exit (dick:out meme)

glacier’s mailbag (I answered an ask)

legand of zeldo (zelda)

Macademia nut cookies (my hero academia)

beepleboople (synthwave/cyberpunk vibes)

best final fantasy (bravely default/second)

gay space rocks (steven universe)

dungeons AND dragons? that’s far too much!

Mai is bi and so am I (Mai asagaoacademy)

Red hood who? (teen titans)

sproutleboople (solarpunk)

potoo pavilion (owl house)

marvelling at detectives (comics, general)

young master old padawan (Star wars)

VHS deck full of eyes (magnus archives)

Everybody Votes Website (polls!)

Nesterian lifestylings (non content stuff I'm doing and decided to do a 4-H style writeup on for fun)

Also a general note: I started backtagging old posts, but I’m nowhere near done with that, so some of these posts that come up in these tags may be VERY OLD! Check the post dates, please!

#linky link #texty text #glacier's blitherblather

[seecarrun]

"Are you going to tell him?"

Richie startled, cursing as he dropped the knife, and spun on his heels to face Stanley and hopefully cover his carving at the same time. Stan furrowed his brow, but otherwise kept his expression unnervingly neutral.

"Jesus fuck, Stanley," Richie huffed. "You trying to give me a heart attack, dude?"

"Sorry," Stan apologized, not sounding sorry at all. He nodded towards the bridge. "So, are you?"

Richie scowled. "Am I what?" he bit out. Stan rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to tell Eddie you like him?"

Richie immediately bristled, his face flushing a dark red. "What the fuck?" he cried. "What are you talking about? I don't—! What—?! I'm not—! Are you fucking nuts, dude?"

Stan's expression remained unwaveringly stony. "Okay," he said simply. "Who's the E for?"

Richie bit his lip. "Eddie's mom?" he offered, pitifully, then groaned when Stan crossed his arms and leveled him with an unimpressed glare, deflating. "How did you know?" he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Stan dropped his arms to his sides and, shuffling over, his nose wrinkling in distaste at the dirt and gravel but gently sitting himself down on the ground directly to Richie's left anyway. "We don't know that many people who have names that start with E," he stated dryly.

Richie snorted, plopping himself unceremoniously down with him, his back thumping against the wood of the bridge. "How did you know I was here, dipshit," he clarified.

Stan smiled a little softly at that, shrugging one of his shoulders. "Just had a feeling."

They fell into a comfortable yet loaded silence after that, each waiting for the other to be the one to break, though Richie knew it wasn't a battle he, of all people, was likely to win. Finally, he bit his lip, focused his eyes on the top of a tree across the road, and broke the lull.

"I like him so much, Stan," he said softly. "I like him so fucking much."

Stan focused his eyes on the same tree across the road, humming once in acknowledgement. "It must be hard," he said honestly. Richie chuckled hollowly.

"It's torture," he agreed, and then, after a beat, added, "Literally. It's uh... It's what the clown used against me..."

Stan turned towards Richie, his eyes widening. "It was?"

Richie nodded. "At Neibolt. It turned into Eddie to lure me into a room alone. Then It uh," he cleared his throat, willing away the embarrassing urge to cry that the memory conjured, "It made it look like Eddie was, like, vomiting up this black sludge." He adjusted his glasses nervously. "Like I... Like I made him sick... Sick like me."

"You aren't sick, Richie," Stan said promptly and resolutely. "Don't get me wrong, you have horrible taste, Eddie is a nightmare, but then again so are you, so it figures, really. But you are not fucking sick."

Richie grinned at that, a real grin, and let himself tilt over until his head was resting on Stan's shoulder, the bandages he still wore around his face tickling Richie's forehead.

"Thanks, Stan the man," he mumbled, closing his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Stan simply smiled and allowed Richie to stay there as long as he needed. "No problem, Rich."

#reddie #richie tozier #stan uris #eddie kaspbrak #car’s fanfiction #Car?? writing what might be considered light angst?? #I’m just as surprised as you all are! #but I love best bros richie and stan and sometimes the boys just need to feel their feels man #reddie ficlet

[palaceofpassion]

Can we get some follow up for that one involving Jaune breeding Nuts and Dolts. Maybe either Ruby’s turn or the Bees getting bred while the three already breed ladies watch.

Part 2 to @dam1994s original ask!  This time its Ruby’s turn, also the reason I didn’t label the first as NTR.

“Ruby.”   

This didn’t feel right, it hadn’t felt right for a while now, but now that he actually got the chance to take a look at Ruby’s face he felt torn up about it.  “I’d let things get too far…”  

“Y...yes…”  

She couldn’t even look him in the eyes, staring lifelessly towards her sheets.  Patting the sheets in front of him he called his young friend over, “Come here.”  He’d have to fix this, “Sorry Penny, we’ll continue later if time allows it.”  He’d have to take control of the situation, things had gotten far too out of hand.  

“No problem, friend Jaune!  Come Ruby it's your turn!  Oh I can’t wait!  I can’t wait till we’re both big and pregnant!  Round bellies with wonderful life in them!”  

Jaune rolled his eyes, but left a pleasant smile on his face, that was till he saw how demure Ruby was.  The once adventurous team leader was disheartened, broken, just sad.  He felt like he’d kicked a puppy, though maybe it was better to say Weiss had.  Who was simply smiling at him, to which he shook his head in disappointment.  “Ruby, sit now.”  

 And like the broken puppy she was, she made her way over to him, slowly meandering forward until she was kneeling a foot away.  “Look at me.”  When she didn’t respond, he simply grasped the bottom of her chin, lifting it slightly so she could shift her gaze to match his.  “Ruby.”  

“I’m ready…”  

He could tell how unready she was, the dark bags under her eyes from crying or with how red her sclera was.  She wasn’t doing well at all.  “Ruby, you’re not, and you’re not okay.”  He took a deep breath as he brought his right hand to her cheek, gently sliding his thumb beneath her eye and clearing the falling tear.  “Ruby, if you didn’t want this, you should have said no.”  

It took her a moment to start speaking, her lip trembling as she did.  “But… but… I would have… everyone would have been disappointed in me.”  

“I would not have!”

Penny spoke up, dancing over next to them, thick droplets of semen dripping from her pussy as she landed next to Ruby.

“I wouldn’t have either.”  

It looked as if Ruby wanted to say something, but Jaune spoke before her.  “She really wouldn’t have.  Weiss is just a…”  He turned towards his wife, who simply smiled at him, like the princess she knew she was.  “A sadist, a very hardcore sadist.”  

“You know it~”  

“But… she said… and…”

“Ruby, if you didn’t want you or I to get pregnant you should have said something!”  

“But…”  

“Ruby, it's okay.  We can stop here, I...”  He scratched the back of his head as an uncomfortable silence followed.  “I’m sorry Ruby.  You shouldn’t be.  I should have noticed you weren’t feeling great.”  

“I should have more so.”  Penny once again chimed in.

“I just… I want Penny to be happy… but watching her being taken by you… and seeing her face… she was…”  

“Oh Ruby!  I’m sorry!  It was just my first experience with a cock and… and it FELT REALLY Good.”

“Penny not helping.”

“And Weiss was saying…”

“Sorry Ruby, I tend to get REALLY into it when Jaune starts to fuck other women.  I do care for you… but it's really hot.”  

Again he rolled his eyes at his wife.  “And… I don’t think you’d want to have sex with me.”  

“Wait no I-”

“HAH!  Jaune not wanting to have sex with you?!  Are you serious!?”

His face started to flash hot as a sudden realization began to dawn on him.  “Weiss, you better not.”  

However, that didn’t stop his wife.  “Ruby!  He’s had a HUGE crush on you for as long as you knew each other!  Did you think he just had a thing for Pyrrha and me?  Ohohohohoho!”  

“What?”  

Jaune felt his face flash really hot.  “Weiss, that's enough.”  

He tried to sound as threatening as he could, but Weiss was having none of it, instead she simply smirked and nodded, “Okay~”  He didn’t like the way she said that.  Either way this was a moment for Ruby, not for his wife, he’d get to dealing with her later… he hoped.

“Right, well… Ruby I think you’re insanely attractive, I actually thought I’d be having sex with you first.”  He couldn’t help but scratch the back of his head as Ruby turned her attention back to him, her eyes widening at the sudden realization.

Gone were her previous fears, the strange sensation she felt in her belly from watching her wife being bred by a man… by her best friend, instead a new strange flitty feeling filled her.  She felt a little woozy as she began to finally take in Jaune’s form for the first time.  She’d known he’d gotten rather muscular back during their adventures but… looking at him now well… she liked what she saw.  And when her eyes fell a little lower?  She found she REALLY liked what she saw.  So much so she had to fight back the urge that pulled her towards reaching out and stroking it, all on her own.  

“Jaune?”  

“Yeah?”  

“Can you… can you go slow?”  

Then he smiled at her, and this time, instead of the rotten feeling that had overwhelmed her earlier, she felt a genuine sense of warmth fill her.  

“Of course Crater Face.”  

“Hah, thanks Vomit Boy.”  

She allowed his fingers to run through her body, gently coasting down her back and curling at the soft swells of her rear.  A small shudder ran through her spine, and a soft gasp escaped through her lips.  A sudden lightness filled her as he drew close, the edge of his p...dick pressed against her already moist sex.  “You sure you want this?”  

“Ye...yes please.”  

“Alright.”  

Her lower body tensed as the sharp pain struck from her crotch, her tight slit began to unfold before the firm strength of his shaft pressing further inside of her.  “O...Oww…”  

“I can stop.”  

“N...no keep going…”  

She did her best to ignore the cheers coming from the side, Penny obviously fully in the mood.  Or the snide smile coming from Weiss as she watched her ‘man’ have his way with another woman.  She knew her friend meant well… but she wasn’t going to concentrate on her wife or Weiss at the moment.  

She wanted to concentrate on the fullness running through her.  Through his hands gently running against the back of her head, stroking through her dark locks.  She wanted to concentrate on the sudden bulge in her belly that slowly rose to the top of her stomach and the new sensation of the tip pushing against her cervix.  She felt fuller than she’d ever felt, her body, finally easing into a pleasurable sensation.  “Oooph~  Okay, I think… I think I’m good.”  

“You sure?”  

“Yeah.”  

She nodded back to Jaune, who pressed forward, his body suddenly towering on top of her.  Her body began to sink into her mattress as he applied all his weight down upon her.  Her legs pulled back as he shifted his thighs to pry them forward.  She… she’d looked it up before, but she realized this was a mating press.  “Sorry Rubes, I may get a little crazy but I re-”

“He wants to breed you so badly Ruby~  He wouldn’t shut up about it all the way here.”  

“Weiss!”  He hissed at his wife.

A fiery blush kissed Ruby’s cheeks as she realized both Weiss and Penny were now surrounding her.  “Nope~  I’m going to tell her all about it… besides, it's not like you can do anything, you’re cocks all nice and warm inside her tight little cunt, you probably don’t want to pull out huh?”  

She looked back upon him, her silver eyes scanning his suddenly reddening chest.  She felt a mighty feed of satisfaction fill her as he simply began to gyrate his hips, grinding their crotches together as he buried his cock deep inside of her tight little hole.  Her pussy tingled, the brustling of his pubic hairs scritching at her entrance was doing funny things to her, and she really liked it.

“Did you know Ruby?  That he used to have a crush on you at Beacon.”

“Wei-s.”  She felt him try to pull out, her body wanting more of him instinctively reached out, her arms wrapping around the tall of his back, her legs tightly winding around his hips pulling him down.  Besides… she kind of wanted to hear the story.  

“Well~  You see, he would tell me about what he thought about you… especially when you wore those cute little pajamas, the ones that hugged your tush.”  

“Wei-”  

Weiss ignored him,  “He’d tell me about how he used to imagine, pushing you down, taking you away, dragging you to some closet far away where Yang couldn’t get to you.  To pull your clothes down, sliding his big ol cock into your cute little slit.  How he wanted to breed that cute little pussy of yours, you REALLY turned him on, you know that?”  

“Re...Really?”  

“Ye...yes…”  She could tell he tried not to admit it, but the twitch inside of her sent little happy feelings through her.  

“Not… not Yang?”

“No…”  

“Yep~  He wanted YOU, wanted to breed you, to pump you full of his seed.  He’d tell me about how many times he just imagined putting a baby into lil old you back in Beacon.”  

“Weis-”  

“Tut tut tut~  Not done.”  

She felt a low growl erupting from within Jaune, his chest vibrating as he suddenly pulled up and then THUMP she felt the air knock from her lungs as he rose up and slammed his massive cock inside of her.  Her body suddenly aching for an all new reason as her insides were split apart, her womb shifting upwards against her stomach.  She felt him pull back again as he prepared to lunge back in once more.  

“You know~  He used to tell me, that when RNJR went out, you guys had food problems sometimes, and well you were a growing girl so-”

“Weiss stop!”  

“He would sometimes cum in your soup, you needed protein after all… that of course didn’t stop even as we went on… sometimes I would help pump his cock, make sure you had all the energy a growing girl needed.”  

She felt REALLY hot all of a sudden, all those tasty meals she had… that salty sweet flavor she used to love… it all made sense, and… and she tried to look back at Jaune, but then his chest pushed down on her, his hips reeled back and- THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP. 

Like a wild beast he’d lost control, his hips now jackhammering into her.  Any and all resistance proved futile against his powerful strikes, her rear bounced off the bed, as his heavy balls smashed right into her plump ass.  Her cheeks turned a bright red as the heavy set orbs smashed into her with every lunging thrust.

Her insides churned, and her womb began to beg for more!  A new experience began to overwhelm her.  His arms tightly wrapped around her back, draping downwards as his fingers sunk into her fatty ass.  She gasped again, biting into his musculature as he continued his relentless pace.  

She couldn’t keep a hold of herself anymore, even more so when Weiss began talking again.  “You remember how a few of your panties went missing?” 

 THUD

He slammed into her again forcing her further into her bed, his thrusts having enough force that she was afraid he’d break it!  Or worse, break her at this rate!  

“Well~  He has a collection at home, most of them were used of course.”  

THUD THUD THUD

“AAAAH!”  

She screamed out in pleasure, as he violated her insides, her cervix turning black and blue from the relentless beating he placed upon her.  His nails started to carve into the soft round curves of her bottom, digging into her fleshy exterior as he tried to practically fuse the two of them together.  

She wanted to cry out, a mixture of pleasured pain swirling inside of her.  She wanted to say something, but her throat burned, his aura seeping into her body sending violent chills throughout.  She received no warning as he pushed himself down, pressing ALL of his weight down on her small sleek figure.  She couldn’t tell what was happening at first, her pussy numbed from the sheer force of their sexual escapades, but when her womb began to fill her ovaries hungrily drinking the new found liquid spreading within her.  She knew he’d cum inside, that the reason he was clinging to her so tightly was to make sure that not. A . single. Drip. would. Spill. Out.

Her toes curled as SPLURT SPLURT SPLURT SPLURT SPLURT He unloaded gallons of spunk within her.  Her body shook to its core as a powerful orgasm filled her, the new sensation of being filled, the womanly parts of her finally over joyed to have fulfilled their mission.  She lost it.  “AaaHhHahaha!”  She held on, her fingers sinking into his back, clawing against the strong musculature, holding onto dear life all while her eyes rolled back, her tongue hung out and her everything started to collapse.  

“Oh dear~  She couldn’t handle it…”  

“Ah… dang… damn it Weiss why’d you have to say that.”  

“Oh please!  You WANTED to do that.”  

Jaune rolled his eyes again at his wife, though he didn’t deny her claim.

“Sorry Penny, we may have to wait ti-”

“Breed her more!”

“But sh-”

“She’s stuck to you!  Make sure she’s all nice and knocked up!  Do it!  Do it!”  

Jaune felt a new found fear for the plucky Orangette… maybe there was something up with the color Orange.  

“Fine.”  

Well, he felt bad for Ruby, but he DID have a job to do.  “I’ll go again.”  

THUD THUD THUD 

And so he refused to let up, even as Ruby hung tightly to him on nothing but instinct, her senses frayed and broken.  He’d have to make sure she was nice and knocked up, after all an Arc always kept their promises.

#Ruby Rose #Penny Polendina #Jaune Arc #Weiss Schnee #notdoingthebees

[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not—" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

#aot #snk #eren jaeger #eren x reader #aot smut #snk smut #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger smut #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #tw. toxic relationship #tw. manipulation #tw. abuse

[le-chat-sofi]

MC: Let’s go to the haunted house!!!!!!!!!!!

Mitsunari: Are you sure? There are a lot of nicest places to go and play… how about the carousel?

Masamune: Don’t tell me you are afraid of some toys, Mitsunari

Ieyasu: It’s better that way… he doesn’t need to go

Hideyoshi: Of course he will go! That’s just a game….

Nobunaga: Let’s go!!!!!! I’ll burn this house down and make it mine

Yukimura: What?? Is he drunk??

Kenshin: Let’s go!!!!!!!! Before him!!!!!! This house will fear seeing my sword cutting every part of…

Shingen: Okay, okay! Let’s breath now…. What if we a see a goddess there?! I will fight for her life!!

Mitsuhide: Hahahahahaha you’re all so worked up…

MC: That’s enough!! Go, go, go!!!

They get inside the haunted house

Nobunaga and Masamune: Come, monsters!! Coooome, ghosts, vampires….. I’ll cut you all

Kenshin already punching a guy costumed as a ghost

Guy costumed as a ghost: What the f***, who are you??

＼(º □ º l|l)/

Mitsunari: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH *grabbing Ieyasu*

Ieyasu: Get away from me, idiot… get away!! ٩(ఠ益ఠ)۶

Yukimura: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Shingen: Don’t worry, Yuki… they are just…. AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sasuke: What happened??

Shingen: There is no goddess here, I didn’t find her… Where are you, my princess?? I’m in a horrible place…

MC: Everyone is so worked up… this is just a haunted hoooooouuuuusssseeee

Mitsuhide: hahahaha you’re so easy to scare….

MC: Mitsuhide!!! Stop it!!

Hideyoshi: That is no very mature of you, you should just enjoy and… where is Lord Nobunaga??

Mitsunari: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ieyasu: THAT’S ENOUGH… I’m out! *kicks Mitsunari*

Mitsunari: Where… are… you… going, lord Ieyasu?? Do you know the exit??

Ieyasu: Anywhere is better than being with you (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Yukimura: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sasuke: Stop screaming, Yuki! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Shingen: hhaahhahahhahahaha kids…

Mitsuhide: I see you got the way of doing things, Shingen…

Shingen: If I don’t find the woman of my life here, there is no fun, so YUKI!!!!!!

Meanwhile…

Nobunaga staring at a guy costumed as a vampire: Choose well your last words, blood sucker!!!

Masamune staring at a guy costumed as a pirate: Get your sword, let’s fight!!

Both guys with costumes: _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

MC: ohhh it’s almost the end…. So soon!!!

Mitsunari and Yukimura in the last corner of the haunted house: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH *faint*

Ieyasu: WHAT??? Now I have to move “it” from the floor!!! *start crying with an angry face*

Shingen: Nothing funny, didn’t find the goddess, Yuki fainted, Sasuke is looking at the lights to understand how it works and Kenshin…. Where is Kenshin?? (눈_눈)

Hideyoshi: Lord Nobunaga??? Where are you?? *kicks a vampire in the hurry* Get away!!!

Finally, the warlords get out of the haunted house

Mitsunari vomiting: I’ll…never…go…again…to…a…place…

Ieyasu: Shut up, shut up!!!! AAAAHHHHH my clothes…. I’ll kill you, stupid idiot

Yukimura: Lord Shingen?? What happened?? I think I saw a cursed boar…

MC: (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Mitsuhide: Well, it was over!!! Poor employees hahahaha

Hideyoshi: What?? Where is Lord Nobunaga?? I thought he was here…

Suddenly a scream and a lot of costumed guys are running from the haunted house *the costumes were all torn*

Kenshin: Come fight with me!!! I didn’t even start!! Sasuke help me here… get them all!!!

Sasuke: My apologies, lord Kenshin, nut, actually, I saw a candy store there and….

Kenshin: CCCCCOOOOOMMMMMEEEE!!!!

Nobunaga and Masamune leave the haunted house

Masamune: Not so funny… the don’t like to fight

Nobunaga: Amateurs….

Kenshin: Right?? You see, I am right!!! Let’s get them!!!

Guys with the costumes: I quit, I quit!!! They are insane, they will kill us AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Mitsuhide: My lord, it seems you created the perfect haunted house…

…

Yoshimoto who was left behind in the beginning of the game

Yoshimoto: Such an interesting outfit, so much work and details…. Can you tell me how did….

All at the haunted house: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

#otome game #otome fandom #otome fanfic #otome romance #cybird ikemen #ikemen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #ikesen masamune #ikesen kenshin #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen yukimura #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen shingen #ikemen sasuke #ikesen ieyasu #halloween #haunted house #ikesen hideyoshi

[rpmemestorehouse]

2010′s Internet Memes Starters

Change wording as needed

“Are you frustrated?”

“What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I-”

“Let me tell you why that’s bullshit.”

“Oh stop it, you.”

“Aww yiss.”

“France is bacon.”

“That’s cute.”

“Lie down. Try not to cry. Cry a lot.”

“Has science gone too far?”

“...said no-one ever.”

“We need to go deeper.”

“Do you think this is a motherfucking game?”

“NOPE.”

“Oh baby, a triple!”

“Brushie brushie brushie~”

“Spooky scary skeletons!”

“FUCK YEA.”

“You could stop at five or six stores, or, just ONE.”

“You hear about video games?”

“Release the kraken!”

“Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?”

“ ‘It will be FUN’, they said!”

“You’ve been GNOMED!”

“Deal with it.”

“And not a single fuck was given that day.”

“It’s a double rainbow!”

“The rent is too damn high!”

“You jelly?”

“Challenge accepted.”

“Come at me bro!”

“Pootis!”

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“Are you a wizard?”

“Bitch please!”

“I know that feel bro.”

“Shut up and take my money!”

“I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

“NO.”

“I hope you step on a LEGO.”

“That really rustled my jimmies.”

“And then a skeleton popped out!”

“I’ve seen some shit.”

“gEnIuS!”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

“This isn’t even my final form!”

“You had one job.”

“Kill me.”

“Majestic as FUCK.”

“Excuse me sir, do you have a moment to talk about [insert]?”

“I swear on me mum...”

“You have no power here!”

“REKT!”

“What a time to be alive.”

“If I pull that off, will you die?”

“It will be extremely painful...for you.”

“FUCK THIS GAY EARTH!”

“Hide the pain Harold.”

“Local man ruins everything.”

“Mom, get the camera!”

“I cri evrytiem.”

“The struggle is real.”

“I am the one who knocks!”

“Perfection.”

“This is the darkest timeline.”

“I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”

“I regret nothing!!!”

“I lied.”

“I’ve seen enough [insert] to know where THIS is going.”

“Oh god why-”

“Everyday I’m shufflin’-”

“You wot mate?”

“Everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked...”

“Man door hand hook car door-”

“Palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy, vomit on my sweater already, Mom's spaghetti-”

“Oppa Gangnam style!”

“When [place] is ashes, you have my permission to die.”

“I only cried for 20 minutes.”

“Pepperidge Farm remembers.”

“Go home, [Name], you’re drunk.”

“Fuck me, right?”

“I should buy a boat.”

“2deep4you”

“Apply cold water to that burn.”

“420 blaze it!”

“That’s a nice new [insert]. It would be a shame if something happened to it...”

“I too, like to live dangerously.”

“You know nothing, [Name].”

“I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“Does this look like the face of mercy?”

“It was me, [OWN NAME]!”

“Stop trying to make [insert] happen! It’s not going to happen!”

“You merely adopted the darkness.”

“See? Nobody cares.”

“I will find you, and I will kill you.”

“I understood that reference!”

“Listen here, you little shit-”

“It’s an older meme, sir, but it checks out.”

“Ravioli, ravioli, give me the formuoli.”

“How do you do, fellow kids?”

“Ow, the edge!”

“*teleports behind you* Nothing personal, kid.”

“Pee is stored in the balls.”

“We have food at home.”

“You must be new here.”

“Goats are like mushrooms, if you shoot a duck, I'm scared of toasters.”

“ERMAHGERD BERKS-”

“That’s the evilest thing I can imagine!”

“Dammit Moon Moon!”

“When u mom com home and make hte spagheti-“

“When will you learn? When will you learn?! THAT YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES?!”

“helo would u like some of this hot choclety milk?”

“Be strong, [Name]. Be strong for Mother.”

“Ayy LMAO.”

“Surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”

“Shrek is love, Shrek is life.”

“Heard you were talking shit!”

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

“Look at me. I’m the captain now.”

“This could be us, but you playing.”

“They played us like a damn fiddle!”

“I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

“I’m in me mum’s car, broom broom!”

“Hand me the aux cord.”

“Press F to pay respects.”

“Trust nobody, not even yourself.”

“Anime was a mistake.”

“It’s just a prank, bro!”

“Don’t talk to me or my son ever again.”

“Are ya winning, son?”

“Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.”

“I lived bitch!”

“You just have to say that you're fine, when you're not really fine, but you just can't get into it because they would never understand.”

“*chuckles* I’m in danger.”

“That wasn’t very cash money of you.”

“They had us in the first half, not gonna lie.”

“DEEZ NUTS-”

“Alone on a Friday night? God, you’re pathetic.”

“Why the fuck you lyin’? Why you always lyin’? Mmmm oh my GOD, stop fuckin’ lyin’~”

“You’re gonna have a bad time.”

“I’m at soup!”

“IT’S TIME TO STOP!”

“Congratulations, you played yourself.”

“I’m you, but stronger.”

“This is fine.”

“Hello darkness my old friend~”

“Sosig.”

“Jesus Christ, it’s Jason Bourne!”

“I have crippling depression!”

“WE ARE NUMBER ONE!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kiddo.”

“Take a fucking sip, babes.”

“Brother, may I have some oats?”

“God I wish that were me.”

“Ah, I see you’re a man of culture as well.”

“Oh, worm?”

“Hewwo!”

“Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?”

“Am I a joke to you?”

“Let me in. LET ME IIIIIINNNNN!!!!!”

“You know I had to do it to ‘em.”

“Why is the FBI here?”

“Oh no baby what is you doin’???”

“Hey man, you see that guy over there?”

“Buenos días, [Name]!”

“Hey there demons, it’s me, ya boy.”

“Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.”

“Then perish.”

“Somebody toucha my spaghet!”

“My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined.”

“Weird flex, but okay.”

“I’m baby.”

“STONKS!”

“OK, boomer.”

“Yep, this one’s going in my cringe compilation.”

“This is so sad. Alexa, play Despacito.”

“Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.”

“All right then, keep your secrets.”

“They did surgery on a grape.”

“It ain’t much, but it’s honest work.”

“Look how they massacred my boy!”

“Bro! You just posted cringe! You are going to lose subscriber.”

“Wait, that’s illegal.”

“Bro, I’m straight-up not having a good time.”

“Gonna cry? Gonna piss your pants maybe?”

“I’m gonna do what’s called a pro gamer move.”

“Say sike right now.”

#ask meme #ask starter #sentence meme #sentence starter #original memes #inbox meme #inbox starters #rp meme #rp prompts #rp starter #Author's note: I'm so exhausted after making this. There are too many memes. #Anyway see you in like ten years when I make one for the memes of the 2020's

[tsukidrama]

i beat re:7 and also the Not A Hero dlc HELL YES

genuinely so sad and crying over the Baker family?? lucas is cookoo banana crazy (more thots on that later) but i genuinely love everyone else INCLUDING THE GRAMMA WHO IM NOW TERRIFIED OF HOLY SHIT THAT WAS GOOD. FUCK. i feel so bad for the Baker family in the end but they're the most interesting video game characters ive come across thus far.

marguerite baker my beloved okay i'm sorry but i don't get why ppl haven't gone nuts over her as well. she may not be sexy like dimitrescu but she's a milf too i said what i said and i fucking meant it! is it the bugs?? the final form? cowards, all of you. cowards i say!

jack baker i love you. favorite video game boss of all time. i love all the movie references and his shovel and his accent and everything about him. wanted to curl up into a ball and cry for him when he told Ethan "save my family" like bitch i'm sobbing. i'm so emo over the baker family and who they used to be before the mold took over 💔

i just straight up feel like shit every time I think about Zoe. i felt like a monster after she yelled at me for choosing Mia but what happens if you choose Zoe is SO MUCH WORSE! fuck oh my god. i need to watch end of zoe cries im afraid it's going to make me even sadder than i already am over her

lucas... i was so thrown that he wasn't affected by eveline wtf but then that's worse? that means he did the happy birthday thing and the murdering people bit and built a fun house of death just because he's insane and sadistic?? YIKES but also i kind of love him at the same time ajdkskfjdk what a crazy motherfucker. loved loved LOVED the scene in the Not A Hero dlc where he transformed and was like "so this is what it feels like" YAASSSS IVE BEEN WAITED TO SEE MUTATED LUCAS FOR SO LONG but also 😷🤮

it was so fun to play as chris and the whole time my brother was yelling (encouragingly) in the background "STOP RUNNING FROM THE MOLDED you are not pussy ass ethan winters anymore you are chris motherfucking redfield and you can punch their heads off stop wasting your bullets" anyway i wasted my bullets 😭

the gore and the vomiting mold, etc... fucking yuck but overall 11/10 i fucking love resident evil so much

#gonna BUG my wife (hehe) until she agrees to do a cosplay of marguerite so i can be jack lmao that would be so fuckin funny #also kinda want to play the games from the beginning but moneyyyy and also time???? is it worth it or can someone just tell me which games #are most worth it. ive heard 4 is a favorite #resident evil #re:7 #lucas baker #marguerite baker #jack baker #zoe baker #ethan winters #mia winters #chris redfield #tsuki speaks

[neonponders]

Oh lord, here we go. Don’t be surprised if my sugardaddy!Billy and couture Steve turns into five parts orz for now, here’s part 3!

This is originally a birthday gift for @lazybakerart 💋and @edith-moonshadow enabled me to keep going with this with their Harringrove for Palestine donation🙏🏻.

Part 1 here ~ Part 2 here ~ read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

A week passed.

Billy didn’t leave a number for Steve to call, and when he tried to phone Billy’s secretary, she gave him a bullshit lie about international calls needing to occur within a certain timeframe, etc. Steve understood he was butting into Billy’s goings-on, during an hour he couldn’t play civilian.

That was another aspect of their relationship they kept dodging.

Steve did not consider white-collar crime unfamiliar. In fact, it’s wildly rampant in society; it just takes the right lawyers and judges to keep things swept under the rug.

Maybe Billy didn’t talk about it for the same reason Steve didn’t open up about his fears of being disposable. When they managed a safe little time capsule where underlying circumstances didn’t exist, things went great. Splendid, even.

But time capsules have to open at some point.

Billy called Steve.

“Hello?” he said to the unfamiliar number. If he sounded a little miffed, it’s because he’d taken more spam calls than genuine correspondences this past week, having not known what Billy’s international number was—

“Steve.”

That sounded…wrong.

“Billy?”

He could hear the man’s breath on the receiver. Heavier than it should have been. “I know you don’t like this. But I need you to come here.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Stupid question. Billy sounded half the man he was. Steve wanted to know what happened to the other half.

“I’m injured. I’ll be fine—”

“Define ‘injured.’”

“Steve,” Billy huffed like a laugh, but Steve could hear it stick in his throat. He hovered in the middle of his apartment, helpless to do anything but hold the phone to his ear. “I’m not arguing right now. Could you just…get in the car that comes to pick you up?”

“A car? What kind of car?”

“The driver will use the buzzer of your building. They won’t come up. Just get in the car and then the plane—”

“Plane? Billy, where did you go?”

He laughed again, a little of his voice leaking into it. “Steve, please. Can I see you or not?”

Steve croaked into the receiver, revolving listlessly in his apartment while his brain failed to keep up. “I-I—wha—um.”

Except, despite everything, like how very likely he would come back to only one or no jobs, it really wasn’t a choice for Steve. His chest ached for Billy. He missed the bastard’s smug smiles and longed for the animation he let fill his face when he relaxed with Steve.

And he felt the itch of being wanted. His ingrained eagerness to be with the person who needed him.

All of it scrambled in his brain so Steve wound up raising his voice while fisting his hair, “A plane? I have to pack! What do I pack?”

Billy’s voice came out breathily on the phone, like he filled it with relief. “You don’t need to pack anything—”

“I NEED PANTS, BILLY!”

Steve got in the car.

Steve got on the plane.

The stupid private jet in which Steve could have his own disco if he wanted because it seemed like only he and the pilot were on the damn thing. He brought the book Billy had gifted him about The New Yorker for something to distract himself, even though he mostly stared blankly at the pages while he waited for the plane to land.

A part of him expected to arrive in the middle of nowhere. Which, to be fair, they had to land in a private hanger outside of the city. But then the next car took him amongst grand buildings and turned into a narrow side street only residents would use. Steve burst upon the sidewalk, only hindered briefly by the receiving of a hotel key and the remark, “Room 532.”

Steve skipped the elevator. He wore heels in his spare time; he would’ve beaten the lift anyway.

As with any hotel, the key took some figuring out, but when he managed, he stepped into the suite. “Billy?”

It smelled like any other nice hotel. Cream carpets and matching walls. A splash of color on the rumpled bedspread amongst Billy’s clutter. Steve followed the floor plan of the sitting room to the bedroom and then the bathroom, where he heard the shower running. He knocked on the door, “Billy?”

And then louder, “Billy?”

“Come in.”

Steve carefully pushed into the room, unsure what he’d find…

What looked like two open first aid kits sat on the counter. Steve couldn’t read anything from those alone, but he didn’t have to because the shower was a large, glass cubicle. It stood big enough for four people. Billy sat on the floor, his chest wrapped in sodden cotton and gauze; barefoot underneath his black slacks. Steve opened the glass door as Billy lifted his head—

He knelt on the hard tiles, putting his arms around Billy’s neck to greet him, to hold him. Cool tendrils seeped through Steve’s hair, soft claws over his scalp until the water properly soaked his strands.

“Steve, your clothes.”

Instead of answering, he looked at the shower knobs and turned the hot water up. As soon as heat seeped over them, Billy melted against him. His head fell easily where Steve pulled him into the bend of his neck. Billy’s hands fumbled a little to find him, but all he could do was grasp onto him to avoid bending or twisting his injured torso.

Steve remained kneeling over him long past being soaked through.

He did not cry until Steve undressed, leaving his sodden raiment on the shower floor to retrieve the scissors from the first aid kits. He carefully snipped through the ruined gauze and medical tape. Soon a pile of white, and diluted pinkish-orange blood also sat on the floor. Whoever had stitched up Billy’s sides had done a good job, but Steve had to dry him off and rebind him.

After the first wince, Billy came undone. Steve wished he could say something to make it easier, but all he had were small reassurances and quietly given orders.

“Can you hold this here?”

“Lift your arm up.”

“Hang on. Almost done.”

An odd talent of Steve’s: tolerating pain with silent grace. A skill which Billy ironically lacked. But where Steve withheld, Billy knew how to release. Perhaps here was one of their bridges.

“Put your arm around me. Lift with your legs.”

The towels Steve put over their shoulders helped them grip one another. Once standing, Billy halted, “Wait. Take these off.”

To each of their credit, neither made a joke as Billy’s trousers and underwear landed with a wet slosh next to Steve’s pile. Steve wrapped his towel around his waist once Billy sat on the bed. With his hands freed, he went about drying Billy’s hair with his towel and opening the bed for Billy to fall into.

“Have you taken any meds?”

“Nothing spectacular.”

His head sagged on the pillow, following Steve to the bathroom, where he found an ibuprofen bottle and shook out two tablets. His eyes followed Steve’s hand raking his hair off his face, and the movement of his throat around a swallow. The filling of a glass at one of the sinks.

Billy let him wrangle a pillow underneath his body so he could swallow the pills with ease. Before he did so, Billy informed, “The blue pill bottle is sleeping meds.”

Steve went and read the label, even peeling the thing off to read the lengthy underside. “When did you last eat?”

“I’ll eat tomorrow. I need to rest now.”

But Steve went into the living room and pilfered through the mini fridge. He returned with apple juice and a granola bar. “If you take this on an empty stomach, you might vomit. I’m not letting you suffocate in your sleep.”

“They put that on there to avoid lawsuits,” Billy complained even while he accepted the juice bottle. He munched slowly, almost carefully on the sugar-glazed nuts of the granola bar while…

Steve got dressed. In Billy’s clothes.

He crouched right in between Billy’s suitcase and the open wardrobe to select one of his long-sleeves and boxer briefs. Billy blinked softly, feeling warmth blossom through his chest and sink through his belly.

Regardless, he sassed, “You’re not gonna sleep naked with me?”

Steve climbed next to him, facing him as if he intended to get up again soon. He tore into his own granola bar. “I don’t know what to expect with you. I’d rather not be forced out of the building naked.”

Billy’s hand touched his leg as he bit into the bar. “Nothing’s going to happen. There’s a menu on the table out there. Order room service.”

“Tomorrow,” Steve refused with a cheek full of almonds. “We’ll eat tomorrow. Or…when the sun’s up in two hours.”

Billy didn’t ask him to, but Steve stroked fingers through his hair after Billy took his sleeping medicine. “Don’t leave,” he moaned tiredly, the force of the little pill dragging him under.

“I’m not leaving. But you can’t octopus me in your sleep.”

Billy sighed, intending for more words to come out than the ones that did. “…test me…”

When his breaths came and went like the heavy sway of the ocean, Steve kept petting through his hair. Even though Billy couldn’t hear him anymore, Steve sighed, “Scared the shit out of me, idiot. I missed you. Don’t do that.”

Billy hummed in his sleep as if he heard him. Even drugged unconscious, the man tried to retort.

Steve leaned down to kiss his temple and tucked him in to keep him warm. When a knock on the door sounded, Steve donned one of the bathrobes and held a shoehorn behind the door as he answered. The shoehorn was a ridiculous ornate thing from the wardrobe; more like a walking stick than a device to help a heel slip into a boot.

The woman on the other side of the door dressed as expensively as Billy and appeared just as austere. Steve had never seen her before even though she acted like she knew him. “Is he well?”

“He’s asleep. What do you need?”

“To go over his intended schedule for today.”

“Reschedule it. He isn’t doing anything for at least two days.”

She did not look anxious. Merely…disappointed? “That will be…difficult.”

“He’s a difficult man,” Steve sighed, his posture tilting back into the room and warranting an end to this discussion. “Whoever expects to see him likely knows that.”

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington,” she dismissed.

“What is your name?” he halted.

“Elena Varma. Hargrove knows me as Elicit Vagina.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, and if she were anyone other than Billy’s secretary and personal guard, now would be the time to take his head off. Instead, she elaborated, “I’m a lesbian.”

“Right,” he nodded dazedly. “Are you single? I know somebody.”

Her dark eyes narrowed at him, but her mouth and brows moved with amusement. Like a test, she inquired, “Are they butch?”

“No,” he said a bit perplexedly, thinking of Robin’s amber blond bob and all of her many-colored Converse on which she doodled.

A pause. Then, “Does she have bad taste?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’ll be in touch.”

Steve exhaled, “Great,” under his breath as he shut the door. Crossing over to the living room, he set the shoehorn down and picked up the room service menu.

When Billy’s eyes next opened, it was to the beckoning of dishware clatter and summons of browned butter and tangy, aromatic cheese.

Steve sat much as he last remembered, sitting facing Billy while a tray sat where his pillows ought to be. A cart of more food stood by the food of the bed. Billy’s blurry gaze traveled back to Steve, who chewed on a croissant with a newspaper, of all things, in his hand.

It was perfect.

Minus the abhorrent headache and parchedness of his throat.

“Coffee.”

Billy couldn’t not smile at the wide eyes that lifted up to him. Steve rushed to swallow the lump in his cheek and handed him his glass of water from the tray. Billy shook his head. “No. Coffee.”

“Water first.”

Billy sighed and leaned over as much as his injured side allowed him to. He drained the glass. And he never got his coffee. Steve made him drink a strong cup of tea, as if that would replace Billy’s usual espresso in the morning.

“Your, um, personal assistant came by. She knows to reschedule all of your—whatever you do. I said you need two days.”

“Two days?” Billy chirped in the middle of grumbling over his tea. “That’s a vacation.”

Steve huffed a sound, but looked toward the window and it’s sheer, white curtains. “What street are we on?”

“What was that sound?” Billy diverted.

Steve looked at him. “What sound?”

“The sound you just made.”

“You mean the sound of you complaining that I work too much but consider two days a vacation. That sound?”

“Yeah, that sound,” he remarked. “I stand by what I said. You don’t need two jobs.”

“Billy, you got stabbed yesterday. Twice. Or whatever the hell happened to you.”

“I’ll have you know I was only stabbed once. The side mirror of a moving car clipped my other side.”

Whatever mirth he intended to be in that statement wilted in the face of Steve’s glare. Billy took the silent admonishment with grace and, after a moment, said, “I’m not the criminal you think I am.”

“I never said you were one.”

“Walking around with a stab wound and clear assault damage isn’t helping my case,” he responded with another unhappy sip of his tea. At least Steve put milk and sugar in it. Dessert for breakfast.

“Long story short: I got a job and the old man CEO noticed me. He liked me a lot. I was the one male secretary in the place; it was easy to notice me. The women liked me—”

“Women have always liked you,” Steve retorted quietly. But he set his things on the tray and laid across the bed to pillow his head on Billy’s thigh.

He gazed up at him while Billy continued, “It was easy. If the head of a building likes you, job promotions come fast. Training happens in the boss’s own office. Then the asshole died and both his heir, and the board, did not take it well to my name being in the will. I’ve been cleaning up a lot of their mess.”

Steve listened and processed, “This heir was driving the car?”

Billy snorted and instantly grimaced for the pain it caused him. Steve began to get up for the painkillers, but Billy’s fingers plunged into his hair; not gripping him, but softly holding his head. “Stay. I’m fine. No, I doubt the idiot even has a license. He can’t aim a blade, either. He’s running out of money, that’s why he’s so desperate.”

“Where is he now?”

Billy’s head tilted almost piteously at him. “Do you really want to know that?”

“Well I can’t decide which is more romantic: inviting me into a shit storm, or making sure I’m safe first.”

He could see some of the tension leave Billy’s face and shoulders as he reached for Steve’s tray and took his other croissant. “He’s in the hospital. But I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Steve could read between the lines. “Us trust fund kids. We’re not built for street fighting.”

That earned an animated frown from Billy, who spoke regardless of his full mouth. “You gave me a hell of a wallop once.”

“I lost that fight.”

“You didn’t have a homophobic, retired veteran waiting for you to bring your sister home. And this guy clearly doesn’t have a pretty boy waiting for him or he might’ve won.”

Steve laughed but it faded as he just…marveled at Billy. They had never talked this openly before. However proud of Billy he felt, though, the nagging dark corner of his brain turned his thoughts onto himself. He let slip:

“You work so much harder than me.”

Billy immediately wasn’t having it. His head tilted again but instead of pity, it was chastisement. “Steve.”

“No, no—I just mean I’m proud of you.”

“You can be proud of me without sounding like I’m about to toss you out onto the curb. I just told you the very idea of you helped keep me alive.”

“And I abandoned two jobs and an overpriced apartment to be here, so I hope you mean it. You might be keeping both of us alive for a while—Hey.”

In between thrown bits of croissant and grapes, Billy chided, “I’ve been. Trying. To convince you. That I mean it. And it takes a drive-by to. Get. Your. Attention.”

“Okay! Okay—this is disgusting. Stop it!”

Steve reared up only to be ensnared by Billy’s overstretched arms. Steve caught himself on Billy’s collarbones so he did not press on his chest, tugging the skin on his sides. “B! Be careful.”

A hand cradled the side of Steve’s head as a soft smirk lifted Billy’s mouth. “Let me kiss you.”

Steve, defiant till the last, pushed him down so he didn’t exert himself. Then he kissed Billy slowly, reverently. He liked kissing Billy a whole lot. Loved it. He liked Billy’s taste and the sound of their lips parting before meeting for more. He liked the puffs of Billy’s breath across his cheek and his hands reaching for Steve. Finding him. Holding him.

Eventually, though, Billy whispered against his lips, “Why did you ask what street we’re on?”

Steve rolled his lips together, perhaps seeking a balm for being chapped from kissing, or nerves. “It’s fashion week. We might be able to see stuff from the window.”

Billy claimed one more kiss and then released him to clean up the bed and scout the street below. Billy managed to reach the bathroom on his own, where he took another pair of meds and readied for a day in. With Steve.

Steve, who insisted he stay in bed.

Steve, who found a full-length mirror in the wardrobe and held it half out the window so Billy could see the horizon of the street reflected from his place on the bed. He watched Steve more than anything. His giggles at how ridiculous it was to hold a mirror out the window. When his features relaxed as he watched the traffic and people arriving to a place a few blocks down. When he asked Billy if

“Can you see the red coat? That thing’s massive.”

And, “Somebody famous just got there. The paparazzi are going nuts.”

Steve really should have expected the events of the next day, but Billy still faced the stern glare and long blinks when he sighed. “B, you’ve only rested a day. Your stitches could still tear.”

“One runway isn’t going to kill me. We’ll pop in and not attend the after party. Elicit’s already managed to get tickets—”

“Her name’s Elena,” Steve frowned with his hands on his hips.

“No, it isn’t,” Billy scoffed, and went to dissect Steve’s luggage himself...

He grasped the linen shoe bag, recognizing the shape inside. He lifted one of the Hot Chick 100s. “You took packing seriously, huh?”

Steve seemed to be really grappling with patience. “I didn’t know what you needed. A nurse or a kinky leg to hold onto.”

“So I got both,” he grinned.

A reluctant, little smile pulled at Steve’s face. “I’m not wearing those out.”

Billy had already set the pair on the living room table when he grimaced, “What? Why not?”

Steve glanced at the windows like they might hold an answer. “Because I’ll be giant and make more noise than anyone else in heels.”

Billy wasn’t buying it. He held onto the back of the couch to help himself stand and then made his way to his own clothes. “If there’s any time to wear what you want and get away with it, it’s fashion week. Come here, no one’s going to let you wear jeans beside a runway.”

Billy had way too much fun dressing him. A quiet little warning bell went off in Steve’s head over this, but he couldn’t listen to it without also admitting that he enjoyed himself. One of Billy’s silk button-ups around his body felt nice.

Intimate.

A black suit jacket over it made Steve feel chic and professional. And when Billy asked him to lift his foot onto the bed, Billy double wrapped the chain of his pendant around Steve’s ankle. Amber and opals on one side, and a golden saint on the other.

“If you’re tired or hurt at any point, tell me,” Steve lectured in the car.

“Yes, dear.”

“I mean it,” he insisted, but Billy’s hand on his thigh tightened.

“I know, baby. I’m okay. The show’s not even two hours long. Try to relax. You look real hot.”

Steve snorted and rubbed the silk of his shirt between his fingers. “Is this shirt new?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’ve never seen you wear it. And it would’ve matched my green shoes,” he added with slanted eyes at him.

“So what if I wanted to match my partner? Try and sue me.”

Partner. Steve caught his face in his hand, eyes aching with the moisture overflowing from his heart.

The car pulled up alongside a bustling street. Elena Varma accompanied them through the open double doors, but she kept to herself. She sheltered Billy’s other side while Steve slid an arm over Billy’s shoulders and held onto him. If a pair of eyes scrutinized them, Billy was hardly the only rich man with a pretty thing in heels on his arm. And people only had compliments for Steve’s classic choice in shoe.

The off-duty models sitting around them in the chairs along the runway were very sweet. Steve and Billy kindly refused their inquiries over attending the later afternoon events, but gratefully accepted their information about the show.

Models talk. And in this world where everyone knows someone who knows everyone, the models explained the architecture of the runway, the designer’s vision, the gossip about the model opening the show, and the model closing the show, etc.

“I like the butterflies,” Steve said, pointing to the ceiling, where a myriad of paper butterflies on wires fluttered with the air conditioning ventilation.

“I like you.”

Steve pointed flustered but narrowed eyes on him. “Are you even paying attention?”

“To the important things,” Billy replied, leaning back with an arm over the back of Steve’s chair. He did contribute, “I like the columns. The effect of the eroded marble and gold filigree is interesting. I enjoy looking at it.”

Steve leaned into him, resting a hand on Billy’s thigh as the lighting changed and the show began. The fashion proved largely sculptural instead of practical, but Steve pointed as models went by.

“My mom would know what that means.”

“If the designer was inspired by Greece, then it’s something mythological. Greece seems to be very in right now.”

“You read my magazines,” Steve accused with a smile.

“I smell the colognes.”

That earned Billy a soft nudge before Steve’s jaw relaxed in sight of a male model striding past them. “You’d look really good in that.”

“The gold speedo?”

“No,” he lightly slapped Billy’s knee. “The shirt.”

“I don’t really go for pastels.”

Steve turned soft eyes on him. He touched the underside of Billy’s chin with a fond knuckle. “You and your jewel tones.”

Then a model turned onto the stage wearing a sweatshirt totally encrusted with jewels. Steve and Billy exchanged looks, which ended with Steve covering his laughter and Billy pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve and Billy left the show with at least one pocket full of models’ agents’ business cards. Steve had taken the time to write the models’ names on each card along with a descriptor, as if they actually intended to remember and reach out to them later that night, should their plans change.

Their plan did not change.

If anything, Steve and Billy only more firmly wanted to retire to their hotel room after they ordered coffees—and Steve nearly broke his ankle stepping off the pavement.

“The puddle lied! The water lied to me,” he lamented through laughter, having thought that the water was far shallower than it actually proved to be. He powered through their venture in the coffee shop, but as soon as they were in the car, Billy pulled his leg up to inspect his ankle and Steve held up one of the shoes.

“Holy shit. Look at that.” The flat of the heel now had a harsh angle to it, as if he’d worn these shoes for a decade instead of thrown off his stride by a waterlogged pothole. Both shoes had water and grit on the insides too.

“I’m sorry, B. These might need some work—Oo!”

Billy had touched his ice coffee to Steve’s ankle. “Don’t worry about it. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” he said on a lighter note. “The ladies we sat with were really nice.”

“What about the show?”

That gave Steve pause. “Um. Honestly? They all walked too fast for me to really see much.”

Billy laughed so hard his stitches made him stop.

#harringrove #deeper than skin #neonponders #pondermoniums

[bloomyn]

phonetics ; kagami taiga

pairing: kagami taiga x f!reader

wc: 2.2k

synopsis: there’s something about three syllable sentences that worm their way into your heart.

featuring; minor unrequited love, grammar, other girls that aren’t you, bad characterization, a whole lot of being dumb, and a happy ending

-> i wrote this in two hours during my peer tutoring class please don’t murder me; i saw .5 seconds of him during the netflix trailer and busted the phattest emotional nut

This is how your story begins

You’re five and on the top of a slide, it’s sticky with sweat and electric on your skin but you can’t go down, not yet. There is no way you’re going to give the kid behind you the satisfaction, not until he says please. 

“Say. it.” you demand, your hands gripping the side of the slide tighter. the space between his eyebrows scrunch together, like an inchworm, the type you learned about in class only a few days ago. “just say it. it’s not that hard. only one syllable.”

Your mother would scold you for that sass, but she’s too far away to hear and quite frankly too far to see your current predicament. 

“No. see, that’s one syllable.”

And yes you know that violence is never the way, (that’s also what you learned about at your school, the same day as the inchworms), and that maybe there is a verbal way to resolve this agreement, but the thing is, your five year old brain is tired of using words. and so this is the part where you resort to fists, tiny fingers that gripped the side of the slide ball up slowly and then.

The sky is down. down? and no your hands aren’t on the slide they’re trying to brace your fall from down the slide and all you can see is a muddled red face before you hit the ground crying. 

→ 

Here’s the thing about parks, technically, technically, their public property. So that means, technically, technically, just about anyone can show up and play. It’s terrible. It’s especially terrible when the only person on the playground to play with is also the one that pushed down the slide (quite aggressively! you might add) only a week ago. If there was ever any violent tendencies that lay dormant in those tiny hands of yours they might as well have been awakened. 

But instead of fighting, or attempting to fight, someone who looks like they could be the kids mother ushers said kid in your direction. 

and instead of a “No.” being spit in your direction you get an, 

“I’m sorry. Three syllables, see. I said it.”

and a hesitant hug, awkward and gangly.

And so it begins. 

→ 

“If you’re going to be stupid like this I’m going to stop showing up.” you sigh, taking a seat on the bench, cringing at the scent of sweat and rubber. Beside you, a messy bundle of red hair lays splayed on the hard metal, a rough hand wiping the sweat out of his face. “Hello, is Kagami home? Or do I really have to stop showing up till you remember you need me. ”

A groan leaves his chapped lips and an arm extends across your lap. “ Did you bring it at least?”

You surrender the plastic bag, watching the steam rising from his body melt the ice. It’s disgustingly sensual and for a split second you can almost imagine what the girls interested in him think. Unfortunately they’ve never seen him like you have, bloody noses and sweat, black stains from the court staining his dirty clothes, and just going through middle school in general. It sends shivers up your arms. Gross. He pushes himself backwards, lifting his head up onto the hem of your skirt.

“You’re just so sweaty, all the time.” you sigh, wiping a handkerchief across his forehead.

The sight of the two of you is one to behold. 

It’s always been to Kagami at least, which is a surprise considering that the only things he really cares to look at anymore is game highlights and illicit magazines that he really only gets away with buying because of his height. To be fair it’s not like he really reads the magazines anyway, not without getting distracted, not without the guilt that comes with thinking of you, during, ah, certain periods of time. He’s gross, he knows, and here you are, walking a mile in the summer heat because his ankle was too dead to get ice and there’s no one to watch #2 if he leaves. (fucking Kuroko he swears)

He can see the soft outline of your jaw like this, laying down. He can see the way your tongue casually glosses over your lips and and the way it seems like you're blinking in slow motion, he can see your lashes gently brush your face when you blink. It’s a goddamn sickness. 

Now usually, when this happens, when this wave of amorous nausea fills his head he does what he’s best at, absolutely destroying the court. But in the few steam filled moments between his attempt to get up and realizing he has to get up or he might vomit hearts all over the floor, you’ve already pressed the palm of your hand into his shoulder.

“Don’t think you can get up, stupid. Your ankle looks like a purple yam for goodness sakes. Gross. ”

He’ll hold onto the spare bit of affection in your words till you give him more, which you will, because you’re like this. Stubborn and loving, and always seemingly annoyed with him. He won’t mind, he never does. 

→ 

It’s not until the end of third year that he realizes he does, he does mind. He minds all the damn time now. 

“Don’t complain now that I’m not giving you all my attention,” you had scolded, “You’re the one with a girlfriend Ka-chan.”

“You don’t even bring me ice anymore!”

A shitty retort indeed but, true nonetheless.

“Kagami,” you had warned, “It might not be a great idea for me to bring you stuff anymore. Think about your girlfriend! How is she going to feel, another woman bringing her boyfriend what he needs.”

There was no response back this time. In his defense, Lisa hated the smell of basketball, “it sticks to you!”

Which he thought she might’ve considered before confessing but, semantics. There was nothing wrong with Lisa, she might’ve been everything he looked for in a woman. Hot, decently smart, very, very good looking on his arm, and she loved the attention too. Except her lips were too sticky, and she hated the smell of the gym, and he could go on and on making up petty excuses because she wasn’t the one who demanded that he say “please” on the playground. 

(He’s just picky!) His brain argues!

It takes three more girls until he realizes they’re not you. 

→ 

There is a brief moment in time where you fall for Kagami Taiga. There is a moment so small it slivers past you in the form of iced plastic bags and steaming windows in the gym. But the moment isn’t so small that no one around you notices. It isn’t so small when your best friend goes through three different girlfriends in a moment that doesn’t even make it through a set of nails. Not one nail chips.

It’s an odd moment. Only, at the end of this moment, there is no return to normalcy, there is no getting over it, there is another one waiting for you to leave those chipped nails and iced plastic bags behind.

It starts with praise and glimmer pop of jealousy.

→

“Absolutely not.”

“ You can’t argue an opinion you can’t even have, Taiga.” It comes out nastier than you want and you kick yourself for it. He catches it, the grimace waiting on your face and the quiver in your eye. The two of you are waning, stuck to your respective places in his living room, movie paused. There is a chance you will cry, but a more realistic chance that this will end in useless fight, that the aching silence between the two of you will become your shield against a barrage of his angry glares. 

This might be the only chance you ever feel what it’s like when he’s in the zone, except you're not a five man team (with subs) , you’re a teenage girl with goddamn feelings. It’s the playground all over again, but this time you won’t be pushed.

“He’s a fucking player.” his voice raises at the end and the tense in your calf sharpens. “He’s a disgusting shitty haired player, how are you being so stupid right now?”

By the time he’s done he’s yelling. The two of you have argued sure, but never... not like this. 

“I’m allowed to be dumb sometimes!” you breathe, “ Look at you Taiga, how you are not the same as him? It takes you weeks, days, to get a new girl. How in the world are you even qualified to be talking to me about this.”

It takes half a second for his eyes to narrow, sharper than his looks and for a moment you stagger back. It takes even less time for you to grab your bag and leave. 

You’re not angry, not for the right reason. This boyfriend is going to end in heartbreak, it’s a given, even Kagami knows this. But you can’t help yourself, this might only be a blip in time, it won’t matter in a year right? It won’t matter when Kagami finds himself wrapped around another girl, too busy to even remember what day of the week it is. 

And it kills you. 

You’re killing him. 

There is never a moment where everything is clear, unless he’s playing one on one, but this isn’t him versus you. This is him versus himself, a freaky nightmare he only dreamt about in middle school; and you’re not someone he wins by dunking on. It’s the type of win where he has to lose a little bit of something too. The type of win that he’s been avoiding. 

→ 

Your house has been the same for years, flower boxes on the front porch, a few twigs on the lawn, less than a thousand steps from his own place, somewhere he could sleep walk to. It’s never bothered you, he was your best friend, how could you complain about living so close?

Well, you’re complaining now. 

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes are drilling into the ground, fingers fidgeting like a boy, like a child who’s never had to say sorry before. Even so, you love him, so you relent, allowing yourself to lean on the doorway, absolutely oozing casually (ty?) (ness?) You can’t think.

“Three syllables. Thanks.”

The visible sigh of relief warms your achy breaky heart and absolutely tears into your soul. The grip on your heart he holds falls loose, unveiling the mismatched pieces that you’ve been forcing together for years. And for a moment you feel weak to it. 

“ You should,” he starts, gnawing on his bottom lips this time, “be with who you want. So, I’m sorry.”

It’s exasperating, but even if it is, Kagami Taiga is the most stubborn man you know so these words no doubt are being pulled out like teeth and you love him all the same. 

→

To Kagami’s surprise (and disappointment), a year later you are still quite in love with the man you call your boyfriend. But to his own sick delight, the two of you are fighting (again).  

“So you’re here.”

You nod, pushing the door to his bedroom open and slipping yourself under his covers. If he was anyone but himself he might’ve looked down, seen what was going on and promptly collapsed onto his knees. But, willpower is a strong suite of his (thank god), so he takes a seat on the foot of the bed.

“ Kagami, you can say it.” you mumble from beneath his covers. At your words his eyebrows scrunch and his knuckles tighten around the blanket. You’re not provoking him, just asking for the honesty he carries on his shoulders. 

“Ah, well.”

You shift the blanket off, propping yourself against the headboard. It’s only then that he can see the old tear tracks down your face.

“ I’m glad you’re here ya know. With me. Here.”

The last part is a whisper, one you catch. 

One you can only sigh with.

“ You can’t say that Kagami.”

“It’s true.”

It feels like a lifetime has passed by the time you gather the courage to look up at him, up at those deep red eyes that give away every emotion that passes through him. You don’t think can hurt you, not anymore than he has. Not with the hands that have held you up and stuck bandages on your knees and not with the heart that cared for you so deeply. He wouldn’t dare. 

But the sun is setting between the two of you, and the radiant glow only illuminates your features. You have to remember that he is only man, only human, and humans are easily seduced into stupid things by the sun.

“ I love you.” 

The delicate words aren’t voluntary, nor are they forced. It’s the space inbetween that pushes someone in the right direction, whether they know it or not. 

“ Three syllables Taiga.”

He watches you untangle yourself from the bed and take your place beside him. Carefully, he drops his hand in your lap, palms up and clammy. Slowly, you place your hand in his, taking up the space between his fingers. 

“Four syllables. That’s what you get.” you shake, squeezing his fingers. 

It takes him about two seconds to understand what you mean.

And he does.

→ 

#knb x reader #kagami x reader #kagami taiga x reader #kagami taiga scenario #kagami scenario #taiga x reader #did u miss me #knb scenarios #knb fic #knb fluff

[mizunetzu]

Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault

⚠️warnings - mean, probably ooc kuroo, none

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) had throughout his childhood. After running you feel out of breath, kicking a ball around just hurts your foot, and there’s no real merit to playing. At all. It’s just a waste of your time.

“What’s your name?” A boy with black hair and piercing yellow eyes looked up from his Ds. (E/c) eyes gleamed at the gradeschooler, making him look away shyly.

“Kozume...kenma...”

“Ah! Cool name! I’m (L/n) (y/n)!” The schoolboy waved his hands around excitedly. “Do you wanna be friends?”

“...sure.” Despite (y/n’s) energetic persona, he was taken aback by his new friends answer. He wiped the shocked look off his face and pumped his fist in the air.

“Really? Awesome! I’ve never had a friend before! No one really wants to be friends with the new person.”

Kenma looked at the boy. He had (h/c) hair, and had a smile that never seemed to waver. He was also built quite athletic-ly for a gradeschooler, with thick set legs and arms.

“Do you play sports?”

(Y/n) gave him a jokingly disgusted look. “No, but I get that question a lot. I don’t see the point of playing sports. It just makes you tired.”

“Yeah, your right.”

————

“I don’t think your friend likes me very much...”

(Y/n) subtly pointed his finger at a boy with black hair that stuck up in all places, glaring at him like he was the scum of the earth. Kenma sighed, placing his free hand on the grass while gripping his ds in the other.

“Yeah. He doesn’t like it when I play on my ds when I could be doing volleyball stuff with him.”

“You play volleyball?” (Y/n) tore his eyes off kenmas ds screen, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah. He forces me to.” They both flicked their eyes over to the glaring boy, holding a volleyball.

“I...should go. Wouldn’t wanna keep your friend waiting. See you tomorrow at school Kenma!” (Y/n) stood up, dusted stray grass off from his behind, and scurried off into the playground. Once out of sight, he hoisted himself up the playground ladder and hid behind a pair of plastic bars.

He, admittedly, felt guilty about watching his friend talk to his other companions, but it’s not like he was doing anything harmful. Besides, he wasn’t in earshot, so it’s not like he’s eavesdropping.

The bedheaded kid sighed exasperatedly while jogging up to Kenma. He started yammering on about something, pointing between Kenmas ds, his volleyball, and where (y/n) had run off to. Kenma eventually sat up and started tossing around the ball with the boy, talking about something (y/n) couldn’t hear.

The taller boy looked less intimidating when he was playing. He was smiling so genuinely, contrasting the disgusting glare he gives whenever he sees him around Kenma, talking about video games and such.

A revelation came to mind. (Y/n) wanted to be friends with that kid, even though he wanted nothing to do with him. But now that he thought about it, everytime he shot (y/n) a dirty look, it was when they were on their butts, being lazy and laughing over the ds. Yet when he’s tossing the ball, he looks happy.

Is it because he’s one of those sport nuts?

“Oi.” A voice (y/n) didn’t recognize brought him out of his trance. It was the boy with the rooster hair. He was holding his ball, with Kenma not too far behind him. The bed headed kid leaned on the playground bar.

“Kenma said I should stop glaring at you...and try being your friend.” The boy said, begrudgingly.

(Y/n’s) eyes lit up. He opened his mouth to thank him but was cut off by his voice once more.

“On one condition.” The boy, who he learned was named ‘Kuroo’, held up his volleyball with a smirk.

(Y/n) hated sports. He always will. But if this was the price for friendship, he’d gladly learn how to play volleyball.

———

(Y/n) wasn’t going to lie. In all the years of their trio friendship, he found himself gazing at Kuroo just a bit longer than he should. He felt his face heat up when he graced his ears with his creamy laugh, and his hair was so stupid it was cute.

Too bad it was ruined with stupid volleyball.

He was so passionate about something so trivial, it almost hurt. The only thing Kuroo would talk about to him was volleyball this, Nekoma that, it was tiring. But not as tiring as practice.

Oh god, practice. Every morning and every night, everyday for the whole school year. You ran laps around the gym just to ‘warm up’ and smacked balls at eachother for ‘fun’. (Y/n’s) arms hurt, he was constantly out of breath, and his muscles ached with each step he took.

He wanted so badly to stop, to quit, to do what he really wanted to do, but one look at Kuroos beautiful smile, and his mind went blank.

He wished that he would talk about something else but volleyball. Well-he did, just to other people. For some reason, it felt strictly professional with (y/n). It sucks. Maybe he just needed to work harder. It’s Kuroos second year, and (y/n’s) (and Kenmas) first, so he had plenty of time to improve right?

You have to work for the things you want, and he’s got one foot in the door. Toe by toe, he’ll earn his respect no matter what.

————

This didn’t go as planned.

Here he was, a first year and Nekomas new regular setter. He, apparently, was better than their third year setter, so he got switched in. Not exactly what (y/n) planned. He was content being on the bench, throwing fake praise and “one more point’s!”

“Good job earning your spot, man!” (y/n) felt a hand smack him on the back. Kuroo gave a heartwarming smile. (Y/n’s) chest tightened and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Be sure to give me some good ass tosses you hear me?”

Kuroos chuckle went over (y/n’s) head as his eyes lingered on his closed eyes. Whenever he laughed, there was one crinkle near his left eye, and a dimple on the right side of his cheek. His teeth were perfectly straight, and his nose was hooked and planted in the center of his face. He had unusually long eyelashes, pointing down, making him look like he was always holding a smug expression, when really it was his resting face.

He never noticed it before, maybe because he’s never been so close. He never complimented him so...earnestly and gotten so near to the point he could reach out and pet his untamed hair with no effort. It was tantalizing, hypnotizing, even.

It was moments like these that made him forget why he hated sports so much.

————

Was it a crime to try and get close to the ones you love?

If anything, that was something Kuroo taught him. To work hard and never give up. Wasn’t that something he strived for?

Ever since that encounter, (y/n) made even more of an effort to coerce the spiker. He’d walk him to his classes, text him frequently, sometimes he’d even buy him lunch. And every time before a game, he’d pat him on the shoulder and tell him to do his best. Completely harmless. Was that wrong of him?

It was to Kuroo. He was getting annoying, more so then when they were children. He told him to learn how to play volleyball because he thought he would give up. Since he was so lazy and hated sports. Who hates sports? It was people like that Kuroo didn’t bother to understand. It just rubbed him the wrong way.

And there was no reason to hate (y/n) right now. He was on top of his grades, he was someone Kenma doesn’t shy away to, he’s the perfect setter, and he’s pretty good looking as well. The perfect human.

Maybe he couldn’t get over the fact that he originally didn’t like sports. He liked them now, there was no problem, so why does he still dislike him? There’s absolutely no reason to hate him, but he got on his nerves every single day. He didn’t know what the emotion was. Some days he would be sure it was hatred and annoyance, but sometimes he would see him smile so alluringly, and he would feel like melting.

It was infuriating. Watching him buy his favorite drink from the vending machine to ofter to him was a harmless, kind task yet it felt like he was buying milk to pour over his head and call him a bitch.

Of course he’d never be upfront about his feelings. He needed to uphold his reputation. If he was going to be captain of Nekoma in his third year, he needed to make the best impression to be picked as. So he’d just deal with it, and move on.

That’s what he told himself at least.

It’s already been a tiring day, and he needed to be his best at the match about to happen right now. He wanted to focus, and it was hard to when everyone was talking and changing in the locker room. It was loud, and the ringing in his ears wouldn’t stop, and-

“Do your best, Kuroo-kun!”

A nimble thread snapped inside him. His voice was so tauntingly sweet, his arm on his shoulder seemed to burn and sizzle on his jersey and his smile made him want to bash his head in with a volleyball.

“Would you just SHUT UP FOR ONCE?”

Words flew out of of his mouth like vomit. He stood up abruptly, knocking (y/n) back slightly and making him stumble onto the floor. He didn’t care, though. All he saw was red.

“You’re always bothering me, and acting so fucking ‘sweet’! it’s tiring! You’re tiring!” Kuroo was seething, so much that he couldn’t see the confused and hurt expression on (y/n’s) face. Still, he tried to salvage it by weakly smiling and running cold, shaky fingers through his hair.

“Kuroo, wha-“

“Don’t ‘Kuroo’ me! Can’t you ever take a hint? Why do you think I never talk to you unless it’s at practice or when you’re nagging my ear off! I don’t want anything to do with you! I never did! So just SHUT UP!”

Silence consumed the room whole. Kuroos bipolar mentality shocked everyone to the core. All eyes were on (y/n), who looked like a dear in the headlights. All the attention on him was making (y/n) feel even worse. It took him all his might not to cry. It sucked. This sucked. He sucked.

“I’m...I’m sorry” (y/n) said, between concentrated breaths. If the room hadn’t been dead silent, you would’ve missed it with how softly his words came out.

Kuroo didn’t say anything, too caught up in his anger, and just sat back down, facing away to concentrate. No one had the guts to confront Kuroo, nor to help (y/n), who fumbled onto the ground, staring at the ceiling with a traumatized, betrayed expression.

Everything felt fake. The whole world he built up on his back, felt fake. Everything he worked for, every piece of yen he spent on snacks and gifts, all the bruises and floor burns he got from a stupid sport he never liked, it was all for nothing. It was for a friendship that didn’t exist. And he still had to go out there and play for said sport with a plastic smile on his face.

“(Y/n)...are you...good...?” Yamamoto was the first to break the silence, as some awkwardly went back to changing or exited the locker room to wait at the courts.

Kuroo had long left the room, leaving only (y/n), Yaku, and Yamamoto. They were towering over the boy staring blankly at the ceiling, with worried expressions.

“I swear I’m gonna KILL that stupid rooster-“

“Don’t.” (Y/n) voice came out as a hoarse whisper. Yaku and Yamamoto looked back down to see (y/n) sitting up, holding the same blank, shocked expression. He was looking at his own hands, shaking and occasionally twitching.

“Mm, you know I can’t focus well when my hands are shaky? Makes me all nervous and I miss my tosses.”

(Y/n) upturned his lips into what was supposed to be a smile, but ended up just looking forced and rather scary. “Anyway, we should go. The official warmups starting.”

(Y/n’s) voice was quiet, barely audible if the room had not been empty and silent. He brought himself up to his feet and stumbled out the door, not looking at the two boys behind him once.

————

(Y/n) was right when he said he didn’t do well under pressure.

When the game started, the starting whistle droned louder than usual, leaving a ringing noise in his ears. He couldn’t seem to jump as high, or set the ball just right. All his blocks got broken through, and his spikes were blocked ever so easily. Every point lost sent a glare from Kuroo, which made it even worse.

Just as match was about to start up again, the whistle returned. (Y/n) turned his head to see Kenma, holding up a sign with his number on it.

They were switching setters.

He felt embarrassed. He had one job to do, to set the ball to the spiker, yet he failed. His stupid nonsensical emotions clung to him on court, messing up his ‘perfect setter’ persona. He probably looked like an idiot fumbling with the ball. A total amateur. He embarrassed himself in front of everyone to see.

(Y/n) grabbed the sign devastatedly, before taking his spot back on the sidelines. He failed. He was benchwarming again. He usually would’ve been happy to be off the court, but seeing Kuroos big smile when Kenma entered the court drove the nail into the coffin.

Their bond was inseparable, (y/n) had only been a third wheel to a duos friendship, having a sick, twisted fantasy of friendship plaguing his mind for years. He watched as Kenma effortlessly set the ball to Kuroo, who slammed it down and high-fived Kenma. Whenever (y/n) set the ball to him, all he got was a “nice point” or a half assed smile.

As much as he should’ve been watching the game intently, cheering on his teammates and studying the match, he couldn’t bring his gaze up from the floor. He searched and scanned his memories for a single time Kuroo was genuinely happy (y/n) was there, but he found none. Every time he thought they had a connection, there was none. There was nothing there. He was blinded by the need for his validation, that he wastes his whole life doing something he hated.

Being benched was supposed to be a good thing, but right now, it felt like the worst thing imaginable.

————

They won the game, with three sets in total. It didn’t matter to (y/n), though. It was all gibberish to him. Everyone was cheering, everyone was happy, and (y/n) did his best to smile. He didn’t wanna damper everyone’s victory for his measly boy problems. Everyone seemed to forget about the fight in the locker room now that they were on the bus, buzzing about their victory.

(Y/n) sat in the very front. Everyone gravitates towards the back of the bus, so he was left relatively alone with his thoughts.

He didn’t want to play. Like Kenma, he did it only because he’d been playing so long, and because without it, Kuroo wouldn’t bat an eyelash at him.

Kuroo looked like this perfect leader, perfect friend, perfect everything. That’s why (y/n) thought he was his friend, maybe something more. But now he just feels embarrassed.

Embarrassed he let himself fall for that delusion. Embarrassed he spent his whole life feeding into a false friendship. Embarrassed he got his ear chewed off about his abundant clinginess in the locker room, infront of everyone.

it was just when he was warming up to the sport too. He was beginning to get used to the warmup sprints, the feeling of the ball slamming down on his hand, the stinging feeling he gets when he receives or spikes. But it was all wasted once he learned it was all for nothing.

———

Maybe it won’t be for nothing, though.

He had moved to the miyagi prefecture on impulse, only days after his big embarrassment. It was practically already the end of the school year, so he finished up his first year online and enrolled in a new school for his second year. It was taking the phrase “running away from your problems” quite too literally. He lived alone, so it was fine.

He stared up at the gates of his new school. His new start. No more volleyball. No more Kuroo, or Kenma. No more lies. And even if Kenma did nothing wrong, he didn’t want him to try and fix their ‘friendship’. So he cut off ties.

Here he could lead a life of his own. Do what he really wanted to do-writing. He wanted to become a writer, but volleyball came into his tracks and he gave up his dream to learn how to bounce a ball in between his hands. But not anymore.

“Karasuno, huh?” He had heard that they were the ‘fallen crows of volleyball’ so he didn’t need to worry about energetic meat heads banging their heads together and talking about correct ways to receive. He took a deep breath, and walked inside.

Goodbye, Nekoma.

——————

Pst pssst parts 2 and 3 can be found on my masterlist!

#hq x male reader #hq fics #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo testuro #tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo x you

[blossom-hwa]

fashion major!kevin

ANYWAY THERE WAS LIKE ONE PERSON WHO CALLED FOR A FASHION MAJOR KEVIN SPINOFF OF THE COLLEGE MODEL JUYEON AU I JUST POSTED (linked below) anyway! hope you enjoy, please reblog if you did, and check out my other dumb overly long blurbs in the stream of idiocy tag on my blog <3

pairing: kevin x gender neutral!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

college model!juyeon

TBZ Scenarios Masterlist | TBZ Drabbles Masterlist

kevin moon is known on campus for two things: 1. his bright personality literally everyone loves him and if you don’t you’re jealous of him like sorry not sorry i don’t make the rules you know i’m right and 2. his.... unorthodox fashion sense. like eric thought his snake patterned shit was weird as hell?? but there are weirder things in kevin’s closet i swear to you. anyway this unorthodox style is what got him accepted into the fashion program at the university and even though there are a few assholes who stick their noses up at kevin’s work the vast majority of people are cool w his outfits even if they personally wouldn’t wear them and kevin is v well-liked in his major and on campus in general bc he knows everyone and is nice and polite and really a v cool person to be around when he’s not being a fucking idiot

and on campus there are fashion shows a few times every semester to show off the fashion majors’ work, and let’s just say that this university if p well know for its fashion major so some famous people sometimes come along to these events so EVERY TIME a fashion show rolls around the fashion majors get nervous as FUCK and there’s a lot of speculation on who will get noticed and whatever and everyone is secretive about what they’re working on and just. everyone goes fucking haywire and kevin is always v happy when the stress winds down after a show

(no one knows it but kevin has gotten offers from several companies to work with them after he graduates. he hasn’t told anyone except a few friends like juyeon/jacob and his family)

anyway you are also a fashion major who secretly really admires kevin’s stuff?? like you just think he’s so daring and creative and all of his work is absolutely amazing even if it’s a little weird and honestly you don’t even feel overshadowed by his talent and hard work you just feel in awe that you can be in his presence at all. you’re p sure kevin has no idea who you are bc even though you have a lot of the same classes you’re always too shy to sit or work near him bc even though he seems so nice and approachable he’s also just.... god he’s so good

BUT THEN. one of your professors announces that for the next fashion show they’ll be modeling projects that he’s assigning right now. which is weird asf bc usually you’ll all take your best clothing and like fix it or tweak it for the next show, like sometimes people will make something completely from scratch but that’s nerve-wracking and not many people do it unless they’re in a real pinch but it gets even WEIRDER bc this is not a regularly scheduled fashion event?? it’s like a smaller event apparently that they’ve organized just for this project AND THE WEIRDNESS TAKES THE CAKE when your professor says that YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE MODELS. YOU ALL ARE GOING TO PICK SOMEONE IN THE CLASS TO MAKE CLOTHES FOR AND THEY WILL MODEL YOUR OUTFIT

and this SENDS EVERYONE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT??? bc oh god you can’t rely on the models you’ve been using all semester now??? and you have to make flattering clothes for someone you might not even know v well and it’s just. holy fuck holy fuck holy FUCK

meanwhile you already know who you want to create for (/ahem kevin moon/) but you’re also chicken so like??? you’re just sitting in your seat looking over at him but not saying anything until your friend chanhee just pushes you out of your seat in kevin’s direction and is like GO ASK HIM BEFORE YOU LOSE THIS CHANCE and you’re like JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHANHEE but kevin’s noticed your movement and he’s looking over with a smile on his face and you’re like jfc i can’t do this but chanhee shoves you again and so you kinda smile (you really hope it looks like a smile) and your voice is LITERALLY shaking when you go over and ask if it would be ok to use him as a model for this assignment and he’s like.... oh my god yes

because what YOU don’t know is that kevin has been ogling your designs all year?? like he enjoys his own style and is comfortable in it but he loves your work as in LOVES IT. he thinks your designs are absolutely flawless and original and you combine styles so effortlessly that he just wants to look into your brain when you come up with ideas bc what the fuck?? you may have different styles but kevin knows how to admire art AND YOUR DESIGNS ARE ART. 

so you’re reeling a day later bc now you have kevin moon’s number and he has yours and he’s now texting you on when you think you’ll have the first preliminary designs ready and when you can meet up so you can get each other’s measurements and all that and when you eventually meet up your hands are shaking so much that you can barely take his measurements and kevin is screeching in his mind as well bc oh my god you’re going to model his clothes YOU’RE GOING TO MODEL HIS CLOTHES

most people are again being secretive about their designs and even though someone in their class is modeling for them this time so there’s a bit less secrecy they’re still working alone so you get a shock when kevin asks if you want to coordinate your outfits. like work on designs together and maybe make something that matches a little though ofc retaining your own styles and you just shriek when you get the text and poor childhood best friend younghoon spills his coffee (you have been friends since basically birth and there are no romantic feelings whatsoever ok it’s strictly platonic like you watched younghoon vomit after eating too much bread when you were like 10 and he watched you get tangled up in a soccer net when you were 13 there are no romantic feelings stemming from any of that)

needless to say you reply yes yes ye sYES and kevin is grinning so wide on the other end that juyeon wonders if he’s gone slightly insane (which he has but we’re not gonna dwell on that) and both of you show up to the work rooms nervous as all hell (i’m not a fashion major i have no fashion sense i still think t-shirts/leggings are the way to go so idk how any of this works do not sue me) but kevin has a natural ability to defuse any tension in the room so within minutes you’re comfortable and laughing with him and wondering why you were so scared to approach him before and THEN YOU’RE REMINDED WHY when he shows you his design for you because... oh god.... it’s unbelievable. like it has a distinctly kevin feel to it but he’s clearly been paying attention to what you wear and what you design because it’s something you would like to wear and something you even think you could look good in. holy shit

and you just blurt out like kevin what the fuck this is so good did you like stalk my designs or some shit?? and you mean it as a joke ofc but kevin just goes beet red and mumbles something about how he really likes your work and how it’s so sharply elegant but also insanely creative and you’re just. open-mouthed like. dude i’m in love with your work too oh my god i’m gonna cry my fashion idol just said he likes my designs i’m gonna screaM

kevin stops you from screaming though even though he also feels like he’s gonna scream and this is the start of a very productive partnership between the two of you like most of the fashion majors are friendly despite the competition but you and kevin are on a whole other level?? and you start hanging out more and more often even when you’ve finished designing and are actually sewing (you ask him if this part can be secret bc you want to add a few things as a surprise - he ofc says yes and winks and tells you he has things he wants to add too which just makes you want to scream out of excitement)

and it’s a week before fashion show day and you and kevin are finished with putting together the designs and you’re excited as all hell and kevin is literally about to burst from his own skin and you insist that he goes first and when he pulls the outfit from the bag you’re just. in absolute awe. the colors match the design you made, it looks like it’ll fit, and even though it screams kevin moon it also has a distinct vibe from your own fashion style and you just yell KEVIN MOON YOU GENIUS as you snatch it from him and go change

(you don’t know obviously but kevin is blushing like a tomato while waiting for you to finish changing)

it fits almost perfectly, kevin marks a few places to fix and is debating whether or not to compliment you bc??? that sounds like he’s complimenting his own work and that’s egocentric as hell but then you say something like does it look fine and he just blurts out more than fine. you look great

AND YOU’RE SO FLUSTERED THAT YOU ALL BUT THROW YOUR OWN BAG AT KEVIN and are like GO CHANGE 

so he takes out the clothes and goes silent and you’re like.... oh my god does he hate it i mean we worked on the designs together and he said he liked it then but what if he changed his mind but then he looks at you and his eyes are sparkling and he’s like y/n this is perfect. literally perfect and he rushes to go get changed and when he comes out your eyes are bugging out of your head bc holy hell you pictured kevin in these clothes obviously since they were made for him but he looks so much better than you ever imagined

and then you blurt out something like holy shit you look beautiful

and kevin blushes again

anyway you both take your measurements and run out and then the day of the fashion show rolls around and both of you are freaking out backstage but the instant you two go on it’s like you both are literal gods bc you feel so confident in each other’s clothing and the crowd can feel it THEY CAN FUCKING FEEL IT and they go nuts when you two walk out!!! and even though it isn’t like a huge major fashion show, it’s just for this one project that your professors cooked up, you and kevin are both beaming like the sun when it’s over despite the fact that it wasn’t an important event bc holy shit you two had fun and everyone’s complimenting your clothing and it’s great it’s just great

finally all the chaos is over and the clothes have been put away and the makeup removed and you and kevin are now standing outside the venue in a kind of stunned silence that all of it’s over. it’s all over. and then you suddenly thrust out the clothes you made that kevin wore and tell him to keep it. it’s a present. and kevin takes it but he also forces you to take the outfit he made for you. and then there’s silence again

but if there’s anything you’ve gained over the past few weeks it’s a bit of courage. courage that let you talk to kevin, courage that let you design clothes for him, courage that let you become friends (and maybe something more) with him. you’ve also learned that kevin is a massive dork and a lovely human being and you’d really love to at least stay in contact so in that the moment you smile and say ‘if i asked you on a date, would you wear that outfit?’

poor kevin looks like he’s about to have a fucking aneurysm and you start to lose confidence but then he’s nodding like there’s no tomorrow like yes ye sYE S OH MY GOD YE S and omg you now have a boyfriend whom you like very very much and kevin has a partner whom he likes very very much

you two may not be a pda couple but you ARE that couple that matches every outfit they wear, you make jewelry and accessories for each other and also make each other clothes every so often. everyone is jealous of your combined fashion sense bc even though the outfits might look outrageous, you two both manage to pull them off and look fabulous at it, but also they can’t even be that jealous bc you two are the sweetest couple and are absolutely lovely 

both of you do wear the outfits you made for that show on your first date which is to like a musical or smth bc theatre kid kevin is something you can pry out of my cold dead hands and everyone’s staring but you two are in your own little world and it’s amazing

kevin admits at one point that he was afraid to ask you out bc he thought younghoon was your boyfriend and you just snort and tell him everything stupid younghoon’s done and by the end younghoon is done with you, kevin is about to vomit he’s laughing so hard, and you are smirking like no tomorrow

for the end of year fashion show you and kevin fix up and accessorize the outfits you two made for the show that brought you two together and there is absolutely no surprise that several different fashion companies scout both of you (and a couple modeling agencies too since you and kevin decided to model your own clothing again - younghoon whines that you’ve replaced him but you shut him up with chocolate bread)

kevin’s a sucker for romance (you CANNOT tell me this isn't true) so your first kiss is on the roof of the fashion building at sunset when kevin does the cheesy thing where he says you look more beautiful the view and you almost slap him but you’re laughing so hard and kevin’s cackling and somehow it turns into a kiss

you are a dork and kevin is even more of a dork and it just works out beautifully bc you’re so absolutely in love that it makes people fake vomit from the sides (looking at chanhee right here) but it’s also really sweet in that you two trust each other completely and would do absolutely anything for the other except murder. kevin made that v clear but really only bc blood would stain his clothing and he doesn’t need that. you agree wholeheartedly (younghoon/juyeon are looking from the sides like what the fuck is this couple do they need help and you two are like just go away and let us be the weird couple we are ok). the conversation ends in a v soft v sweet kiss and just. ik i said it with juyeon but kevin moon is also best bf ever ok you cannot convince me otherwise. 

and that’s how it goes :)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this weird-ass couple)

#destinyverse #kpopscape #tbznetwork #the boyz #tbz #the boyz kevin #tbz kevin #kevin moon #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz kevin scenarios #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz kevin x reader #tbz kevin x reader #kevin moon x reader #kevin #drabble #fluff #tw cursing #university!au #stream of idiocy #scriptura-delirus

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairings: Finn Collins/reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings:Mentions of vomiting, blood, and eye injury.

Chapter: 1.08

"I... It was an accident! It was me who spacewalked and Finn took the blame."

You felt your blood boil as you listened to Raven explain what happened. Finn had taken the blame for her. Your best friend was gone and you’d never get to see him again. Fed up with listening to Raven, you turned to walk away when she grabbed your wrist.

"Wait, I need to know if you’re going to tell anyone?" She asked.

You finally looked at her in the face to see tears rolling down her cheeks. Good. You wanted her to feel guilty. It was all her fault.

Snapping your wrist back from Raven, you ignored her question and left her alone in the room. Walking down the hallway, you could hear her footsteps catching up with your own.

"Leave me alone!"

You could hear Raven let out a mixture of muffled sobs and apologies. It was late at night, and you were sure the guards would give you both a warning for wondering, but you didn’t care. Regardless of not caring, you noticed the hall was empty apart from a knocked over bucket and mop. You thought it was strange that a janitor just left it lying out, but you had other things to worry about. "Daisy, are you even listening to me?" The sudden rise in the brunette's voice took you by surprise. Raven was still crying. "Please, just tell me what you're going to do."

The feeling of her hand on your elbow caused you to turn back and not pay attention to where you were walking. Before you knew what was happening, you slipped and landed on the ground with a thud. At first, you didn’t register the pain until you felt the throbbing sensation kick in. You let out a loud scream of agony that alerted the guards and other nearby adults to your location.

Raven gasped before kneeling down beside you. The horrified look on her face made you realize it was bad. "Oh my god Daisy, your eye."

You reached for your bleeding eye to realize a piece of broken off plastic had been embedded in your skin.

"So they arrested me as soon as I came out of medical. It was my own fault. It was the fourth time that month I’d broken curfew."

Finn squeezed your hand. "I’m so sorry Daisy. I feel responsible for all of this. I never meant to hurt-"

You shake your head. "Don’t, okay? Don’t feel bad about choosing Raven. You love me in a friend way, and you are in love with her I get it. Just please don’t ever feel bad about that."

Finn brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You relished the feeling of knowing it would be the last time you felt his touch. "Are we best friends again?" You nodded. "Good, because I have a problem-"

Monty barged into the tent. "Is the moon here? I can't change the tide if the moon won't cooperate! It's basic physics."

You and Finn shared a confused look as Monty turned and left after his bizarre comment. You had to follow him to know what was going on.

—

Stepping out of the tent, you saw the rest of the delinquents acting crazy. None of them were making sense.

Noticing two of your friends who seemed seminormal, you walked towards them while Finn went to check on Raven. "I love you and I just want you to know this. We're all gonna die soon, okay? I love you."

Your eyes widened at what Jasper had just said to Octavia. She caught you staring and offered you a pleading look for help. You stepped forward, "hey guys."

"Jasper is bombed. All he had eaten today were these nuts." Octavia opened her hand to show you. "Have you eaten any of them?"

You nodded. "Yeah, Monty gave me some earlier, but I feel fine."

Octavia tilted her head to the side and gave you an unconvinced look. "I’m going to go check on the others. You should stay and keep an eye on these guys until the nuts kick in."

—

Just as Octavia said, the nuts started to kick in. At first, you didn’t feel any different until a numbness started to take over and a funny feeling took over. You sat laughing for twenty minutes after Monty told you he ate a pine cone.

You are currently walking barefoot outside the camp. The feeling of the grass between your toes made you giggle, as you twirled, feeling the wind brush through your hair. Did it always feel this good? A gruff voice said from behind you caused you to smile wildly. Bellamy. It surprisingly made you extremely happy to watch him walk towards you.

"What the hell are you doing out here? It’s dangerous-" Closing your eyes, you cut his words off by pressing your lips against his. He seemed hesitant for the first few seconds before embracing you. "Daisy..."

You opened your eyes to see a pair of brown eyes staring back at you, except it was Bellamy Blake. It was Finn.

The fuzzy feeling left your body, and left behind a horrible feeling of guilt instead. God, what have you done? You blame it on the nuts. Finn would most likely be mad because you kissed him, after what you said in the tent. You needed to apologize.

"I need to tell you something." You gulped down hearing the tone in his voice. "Me and Raven slept together before I came to your tent."

You sighed, knowing the answer to the question you were about to ask. "Is that what you wanted to talk about before?"

Finn nodded. "I... I felt nothing. I thought I’d get the spark that I used to have, but it’s gone." Not knowing what to say, you stood awkwardly waiting for Finn to continue. "I don’t want to hurt anyone, Daze. I need to talk to Raven and tell her how I feel, but I’m scared of how she will react. She has nobody else. I’m all she’s got."

Oh no. You weren’t sure if it was the feeling of being high for the first time, hallucinating you kissed Bellamy, or the conversation with Finn, but something didn’t feel right. Clenching at your stomach, feeling it tighten into a tight knot. The nausea takes over you like a toxic wave. Instead of opening your mouth to offer Finn advice, you threw up the entire contents of your stomach just as Clarke and Bellamy walked towards you. Great.

You really wish you hadn't eaten the nuts.

Season one

#the 100 #finn collins #the 100 fandom #bellamy blake #the 100 fanfiction #finn collins/oc #finn collins/reader #finn collins x reader #slow romance #slow burn #the 100 x oc #the 100 imagine #Raven Reyes #monty green #Octavia Blake #jasper jordan #grounders

[builder051]

The talk

Chasing Ghosts

(I generally do not play in this arena; DO NOT ask for other stories with PMS, etc., as illness features. I do loosely plan to continue this thread, though. Or @mohini-musing might pick up for me.)

Warnings: weight (though not ED context), SA inc. prostitution, blood, emeto

____________________________

Tasha comes down the hall and stands like a ghost behind the sofa.

James is in the recliner across the living room, and he barely looks up from the textbook he's pretending to peruse. The quiet music he's had playing in one ear has long since captured his attention more than the multiplication of matrices. He's fairly sure he'll never use the skill lest he become a software engineer post-graduation, and the prospect of that's looking pretty slim.

He sees Tasha out of his peripheral vision, but doesn't move his head or lift his eyes for acknowledgment. She's probably drifted down from her weekend high, realized it's Sunday night, and gotten up for a Gatorade and maybe a glance at her homework.

Steve, though, who's lying on his stomach and taking up the whole of the couch, practically jumps to attention. He stands, scoots, and sits again in the amount of time it takes James to blink and make the first inhalation of a laugh.

"Sorry," Steve says, as if he's personally offended Tasha and just been called out. "I didn't mean... I was just, like, studying..."

Tasha shrugs. "Didn't come to sit with you," she says, in a voice that recalls the 'boys are gross' tone of young teenagerhood.

"What's up, then?" James asks, trying to bring back the balance of the room's atmosphere.

Tasha makes an ugly face. She opens her mouth, then shuts it. "Can I talk to you alone?"

James scoffs. "You think there's privacy in this apartment?"

"I can go, I don't know--" Steve looks around.

"Just talk," James says. He almost rolls his eyes, but the undercurrent of Tasha's affect seems to hold an air of seriousness. If there's something she needs to confess or ask for help with, he doesn't want her to feel less than secure.

Tasha lets out a breathy sort of sigh. "Blood," she says. "There's blood."

"Huh?" Steve responds first. "Where?"

James takes a little longer to contemplate the admission. Has she cut herself? There's no visible damage; Tasha's not holding an injury or howling in pain. Bloody vomit? That's nothing new, really, and even with vampire-red teeth, which she doesn't have, Tasha probably wouldn't come crying to him.

James is still thinking when Tasha points vaguely down the hall and to the left, which is, technically speaking, her side of the apartment. Or at least the bedroom and bathroom they'd parceled out for her when they'd unofficially moved her out of her dreary campus housing.

"What, in your room?" Steve asks.

"No." Tasha screws up her eyes. "I mean... I'm bleeding."

The cogs continue to turn in James's head, and just as he lands on an answer, Steve gives up, shaking his head and saying, "I don't get it."

"Fuck you," Tasha mumbles. "Both of you." She turns and starts to head back down the hallway.

"Tash." James jumps to his feet, his algebra book falling to the floor.

"You guys are fucking gay..."

"Hey!" Steve interjects.

James flaps his hand at Steve to shut him up. "Maybe we're gay, but I'm your big brother." He shoots a quick glance at Steve, hoping this won't surpass his no privacy promise. They've done some pretty wild stuff together: partying, puking, cleaning the carpet... Period talk shouldn't be too far out of their wheelhouse. At least, not if Tasha wants to talk about it.

Tasha huffs and rounds the edge of the sofa. She stands beside the arm, leaning her hip against it for a moment, before finally deciding to sit down, as far away from Steve as possible.

"I..." James starts, assuming it's his responsibility to keep the conversation going. "I assumed you hadn't been, um. You know."

Tasha's 100 pounds soaking wet. In her usual cutoff shorts and tank tops, he'd give her 95. Maybe 92 if she's detoxing. James assumes she has something like female athlete triad going on, except without the athlete. He doesn't like to think she's just too skinny to go through... normal biological processes. If he blames the drugs, sees them as wrecking her body instead of bringing her solace, then he'll have to turn eyes on himself, and there's no way in hell he wants to do that.

"Smart one," Tasha says. "And exactly how much thought do you give to the functioning of my uterus?"

Steve gives an 'oh shit' face, looking from James to Tasha and back again as if wondering how he's been so thick headed. James agrees, but is also relieved, in a way, that his boyfriend hasn't been thinking about his sister in, well, that way.

"Seeing as I have, more than once, pulled you out of an R-rated situation with iffy consent, and you have yet to become pregnant--" James starts.

"Yeah, ok, you don't have to..." Tasha shakes her head.

James decides not to stop his momentum. "Do you know how much sex you're having? How often you're using protection?"

"I said, you don't have to." Tasha glares at him. "I don't have one. A cycle, or whatever. I can't get knocked up."

"Well, I figured that, but you can still get an STD--

"I don't think you're hearing me," Tasha says. "I don't have one. I haven't. Like, ever."

"But--what?" James squints and cocks his head. "What about, what was it? Cheerleading camp?"

"That stupid summer program when I was 16?" Tasha bites her lip. "Yeah, that was a lie."

"You're losing me." Steve reminds them he's part of the conversation as well.

"What, didn't your mom send you to cheerleading camp when you were a sullen teen?" Tasha asks him, seemingly in all seriousness.

"Um. No." Steve withers a little under her stare. "There was a threat to beat it out of me with a bible when I was that age, but that never came to fruition."

"Mm. Fun times." Tasha scrubs her hair back from her face. "I told mom of the moment I started at camp, so then she couldn't go nuts about the moment I 'became a woman,' or whatever."

Tasha has always seemed like a little kid to James. Her stint at camp had only taken place... he quickly calculates... 3ish years ago. Tasha is a kid. She hasn't busted 20 years old yet. But, for the first time James wonders if other, more metaphorical factors are at play.

The idea quickly fades, though, when he remembers the actual topic at hand. "Ok, but Tash," James says. "What's actually going on right now?"

Tasha practically sinks into the couch cushions. She wraps both arms around her abdomen. "Blood," she says. "Kinda...everywhere."

"We'll clean the bathroom later," James says dismissively.

"And I'll do laundry," Steve offers. "I used to be the scrawny kid who got beat up a lot. I can do bloodstains."

"Not helping, babe," James tells him before Tasha can get a word in.

"Feel sick," Tasha admits, rather suddenly.

"Bathroom it is, then," James decides. "But, let's use mine."

Tasha seems to have turned into a shapeless blob on the corner of the couch, her chest meeting her thighs with her arms still wrapped around her stomach. Her face is in her knees, which James has to admit, would be easier to clean than the carpet.

"Come on," he says gently, taking Tasha's shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, don't do it here, please."

"But I already diiiiid," Tasha complains, drawing out the last word and adding the hiccup of a fake crying fit.

"Sorry." James hooks his flesh arm across Tasha's chest and lets her cling to him down the hall. He takes her into his and Steve's disorganized yet bleach-shined bathroom. Cleaning was practically Steve's hobby. Yet keeping down the clutter? Not his strong suit.

Unsure of exactly what kind of sick his sister intends to be, he sets her down, fully clothed, on the toilet, which, of course, has the seat up. Then he dives for the trash can and shoves it into Tasha's chest.

She gives James an appreciative glare, then sets her chin on the edge of the trash can, ostensibly to wait for an upcoming retch. James can practically see it, rising from the bottom of her spine, up her back, to her neck and throat before finally pushing a pitiful amount of spit and bile out of her mouth.

"Ok..." James sighs. If she's down to just that, she's been at it a while. Lost a lot of fluids already.

"Gatorade?" Steve asks in a chipper tone, putting voice to what James is thinking without a trace of delicacy.

"Hmph." Tasha spits. "If it'll... make it stop burning..."

"Lemme guess, vodka last night?" James tries to make her laugh. Maybe cough.

"Fuck you."

"Eh, we'll talk about that later," James says, hoping he doesn't sound threatening. "For now, how about I go with you?" James pulls on Steve's arm and heads for the bathroom door.

"Hey, you said no privacy here..." Tasha's irritated and sickly voice trails after them.

"Yeah, well, puking people aren't allowed to leave the bathroom," James says. "That's the house rule that trumps all the others."

"But I puke on the couch all the time--"

"That's because it's too hard to get your fucking limp-ass octopus body into the bathroom in the first place." James rolls his eyes. "Just sit tight."

He quickly drags Steve into the kitchen. "Ok," he says. "You have to know about this stuff. You took health class in high school, right?"

"I've lived with a woman," Steve reminds James, a little shamefully. "But Peggy was super private. You know, like inhibited, about, like, um..."

"Yeah, I get it." James shrugs. Then, "Did you know you can stem a nosebleed with a tampon?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know..." James shakes his head.

"Why do you?" Steve looks a little take aback now.

"The field. Desert air's pretty damn dry."

"Ah. Ok."

"We'd get donations of shit from the states. Care packages, Costco overstock, you know. Just, whatever. When we got pads and stuff, whoever was unloading the box would just hold them over their head and yell 'who needs them?'"

"And I'm assuming people would just raise their hands?" Steve postulates.

"Yup." James pops the P. "No privacy. Everyone knows everyone else's bathroom habits. When you're deep in the field, there's no men's and women's facilities. Half the time the privies don't even have doors."

"Ok." Steve nods. "Experience, then. You have lots of experience."

James shrugs again. "You have to be chill, ok?" He opens the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Gatorade. He holds one to either side of Steve's neck, as if to physically cool him. "This is, like, super weird and awkward for her. She's really scared, I think, and her brave face just looks...jerk-ish."

"Yeah." Steve takes the Gatorade. "I can be good with this. I really care about her, even if she doesn't think I do."

"I know you do," James says. "It's all in the presentation right now, though. She's skittish. But, also, for some reason, willing to talk. We have to tease it out. And you can't ruin it, ok?"

"Ok, ok." Steve seems to understand, even if he doesn't appreciate the words.

They head back to the bathroom, where Tasha has, for whatever reason, decided to heave into the toilet instead of the trash. She squats awkwardly, sitting on one heel. From the angle he's at, James can see a spreading stain on the back of Tasha's shorts, which has made an imprint on her ankle and the bottom of her foot.

"Don't move," James says, reaching for a towel.

"The fuck would I?" Tasha coughs, holding her stomach and moaning.

"Well, when you're done, stand up slowly and wipe your feet."

"...Shit..." Tasha spits. "Like I said. It's fucking everywhere."

"Yeah..." Menstrual blood, James has no experience with. But blood in general, yeah. It does get fucking everywhere. There's that first moment when the entire body and all its systems are still in shock, like when the arm is first blown off, and then all he can see is red. Even the bone that was white just a second ago is lost in a sea of scarlet--

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Steve says with a grin, clearly trying to be friendly, but missing out on one, or more, of the points. "You're not pregnant."

"Well, of course I'm not, you dingbat," Tasha replies, rolling her eyes so hard that James is sure it must give her a headache. If she doesn't already have one. "And besides. He used a condom."

"Wait," James says. He's been preoccupied by not looking at Steve. "You know that?" he pokes cautiously. "For sure?"

"...Yeah..."

"Every time?"

"To be honest," Tasha starts, spitting and pushing herself away from the toilet. She crab-walks to the towel, wipes her feet, then sits on it, criss-cross like a little kid. "I don't know if he actually gets off every time." She draws her mouth into a straight, defensive line.

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?" James asks.

Steve looks very much like he wants to get the bleach from the cabinet under the sink, pour it into one ear, tip his head, and see if it comes out the other.

"He pulls out," Tasha says bluntly. "And there's never any, you know. Gunk."

"Wait, he does both?" Steve's eyebrows disappear into his hair. "A condom and--"

"Ok, ok." James puts up his hands to shush them both. "And this is, what, this is your dealer we're talking about?"

"Yeah, I guess, if you want to call him that," Tasha says with a shrug.

"What else would we call him?" Steve now looks disgusted. "That'd be stupid to let him just, like, defile you every week."

"He doesn't--" Tasha starts, but then she hiccups, and maybe thinks better of what she was going to say. She still stares Steve down, though, then looks to James as if grasping at straws of support.

"He's, like, a manufacturer?" Tasha turns her gaze sideways.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." James puts his hand over his face. He'd assumed Tasha was getting her stuff on the street, through a framework of various interlopers. Now he's getting news that his kid sister is taking substances thrown together in some coed's bathtub? This is too much.

"Tash--" James starts, trying hard to keep his bubbling anger and concern from spilling over.

"He's a PhD candidate," Tasha says defensively. In Chemistry. And--" her eyes flicker from side to side as she seems to wonder what's appropriate to spill. "I won't tell you his name. But... I'll tell you that he got kicked off the football team for being too violent, but he still wears his green jersey all the time to prove how much better and calmer he's become since that happened, which was only in the freshman year of his undergrad..." Tasha babbles on.

The more she defends the guy, the more James hates him. He feels bad for him a little, slinging synthesized crack to get by. He feels better for Tasha, knowing that what she's taking is most probably pure. But the sex thing is--

"It's kinda creepy," Steve says, taking the words right from James's mouth. "Like, how much older than you is he?"

"I don't know." Tasha shrugs. "Not that much, I don't think. Started school early, finished fast. And I'm not sure this is his first post-graduate program..."

"Maybe shouldn't've added that last part," James says, screwing up his eyes. "So he's had, like, however long to prey on girls who are barely legal. Who might not even be legal..."

"Well, I'm legal, and I can do what I want." Tasha crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah," James sighs. "Unfortunately."

"But what about the thing with the handcuffs? The gang rape? Losing your bra?" Steve blurts out.

"Wait, you..." Tasha's eyes flash with anger. "You told him?"

"What did I say about privacy?" James quickly reminds her. "The non-puking kind? And, um," He looks to Steve. "Maybe a little respect?"

"Sorry," Steve mutters. "But--I really do--"

"I don't really remember that stuff," Tasha says.

James studies her face, but he can't tell if she's lying.

"Probably just party stuff that got out of hand."

'You mean you were too stoned to know the difference between your regular and some random dude off the street,' James thinks. 'What do you do at parties? And how the fuck do you slip past me?'

"He's your pimp, too, isn't he?" Steve asks, pointing at Tasha rather accusatorially, in James's opinion.

"No!" Tasha leans forward and brings her arms down to cover her clearly still sore abdomen. "Bruce wouldn't--" She swallows. "I didn't-- You didn't hear--"

James hasn't been a student long enough to know who was on the football team 4, 5, 6-odd years ago. He supposes he could look it up, crossing the name with accounts of any violent incident that amount of time ago. He's not sure he wants to, though he'll probably wind up looking it up later. Either that, or Steve will. James still has his ex-mil connections, a few of which were absorbed into the local police force. Steve, on the other hand, is better with social media and navigating the niceties of such mysteries as SnapChat and TikTok.

"Ok, fine," James says, just ameliorate his sister's panic.

"He doesn't even drug me at parties," Tasha goes on, probably unaware of how terribly young and desperate she sounds, making lame-ass excuses so she can keep her boy toy.

"And you've had other guys who did?" Steve asks incredulously, even though James shakes his head frantically at him to try to get him to shut up.

"You know Rumlow?" Tasha asks, since apparently she's now all about spilling names.

James shakes his head, but Steve screws up his eyes and says in a disgusted voice, "him?"

"Yeah..." Tasha sighs and looks down at her fingernails, which are stained rust-red at the root. "Remember the night I didn't come home?"

"Yeah, and scared the living shit out of us because your phone was off," James fills in the blanks.

"Well, I didn't turn it off."

"You mean that asshole kept you overnight without any means of getting yourself out of there?" Steve looks downright sick. "I mean, I know he looks slimy, but that?"

"I think Maria accidentally slept on the couch and found me at, like, 6am trying to stick my head in the linen closet because I couldn't find the bathroom." Tasha laughs, though the situation is anything bur funny.

"And I was so pissed at her for having you out all night..." James trails off.

"Yeah, maybe respect my choices a little more?" Tasha glares at him. "I mean, Maria's studying to become an EMT now. You can't think that badly of her."

'Great,' James thinks. 'Someone who'll drug Tasha to the gills every weekend.' She'll be less likely to overdose, but James has seen it all too often in the field. Newly minted medical personnel eager to sow off their skills and rushing into action.

"Yeah," James says, trying not to smirk. "So you got a girlfriend and a boyfriend now?"

"Ew, no," Tasha replies. "Friends with...benefits, I guess. If you even want to call it that. Folks who look out for each other, using a barter system?"

"Did you recently take World History?" James can't help but poking at her vocabulary.

"Fucking-a, I don't know. Once I pass, it's in my past."

"That's actually a good motto," Steve points out.

"Anyway," James says, bringing the conversation back to topic. "None of your...friends... are invited to this house."

"It's not like I want to bring them over for dinner," Tasha replies. "I guess drop off and pickup might happen, since, well, you know now, and I don't have a car." She shrugs. "Cool?"

James hates the idea of someone inebriated driving a car in which his sister is a passenger, despite the fact that he's done it before. Regularly, actually. Maybe he just hates the idea of the driver being someone who Tasha just fucked. The air might be heavy between them. They might smell like each other's deodorant and musk. They might kiss each other good bye. The thought makes James's stomach turn.

But, "sure," he says. "That's fine.” At least she'll come home.

James shares a glance with Steve, which seems to confirm the same sentiments, "Yeah," Steve echoes, as if his opinion counts for anything. "Fine."

#marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #chasing ghosts #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #sickfic #hurt/comfort #blood #emeto #endometriosis #female athlete triad #ED tw #weight tw #drug use #alcohol use #sa tw