#about how he had to get sober a few times and about the punk shows he went to and how he's punched misogynistic pricks

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Husk with gender-neutral!reader relationship headcanons

Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @nixie-writes, and a few other writers in the Hazbin Hotel community for helping me create a piece for one of my favorite characters from the 2019 pilot episode, Husk! :)

Warning: Husk's potty mouth and this is Hell, so indecent things are bound to happen but nothing to imply NSFW content.

Husk gave up on the idea of love years ago, preferring to drown himself in cheap booze and try his luck at the casino before Alastor pulls him away to do a job for him or some other shit because of his contract with the fucking asshole. Why else would he and Nifty be wastin’ time slaving away in a hotel that’s supposed to rehabilitate sinners? Least the pipsqueak gets to clean this place from top to bottom and away from the clients, and he’s stuck handling their drunk asses in the lobby bar.

Angel Dust has been the one who’s been trying to get into his pants since day one, but that’s a different story entirely. He’s persistent, Husk will give the prissy punk that much credit.

Though…he supposed it isn’t all too bad being here. Least since Vaggie hired you. Initially, the job offer she and Charlie had posted online was to manage the front desk, handle phone calls, and all of the other tasks required to be the hotel’s conceirge. However, since there still wasn’t enough staff to do everything, he would see flitting about carrying baskets of clean linens or giving tours around the hotel to potential clients, helping Vaggie with organizing meetings with the press, and so on.

He might be a drunk asshole, but if there’s one part in his body that’s still functioning besides his dick, it's his hearing.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s heard a snide remark from potential or current clients about your polite demeanor, if you’re actually a freak in bed, and a whole lotta other bullshit he did not want to hear when he’s still sober. He didn’t want to care but god fucking dammit it made his skin crawl at the idea of some asshole thinking they had a chance with you. You, who never seemed to lose your smile and would go out of your way to make Nifty’s day by belting out Broadway songs on top of the banister, completely lost in the character you were playing and not giving a shit about anything else.

Not gonna deny it, you had one hell of a voice. You could change the pitch of it so easily. From a high tone all the way down a low, smooth baritone that almost sounded like a siren’s song luring sailors to a watery grave.

When he actually musters the fucking courage (thanks to a lot of booze from earlier in the day) to ask if you’d like to go to a bar or even the casino, Husk thought you would reject him. After all, why would a someone like you would even want to hang around an old fucker like him?

But when he saw your face turn as red as a certain deer bastard’s suit and sputtered that you weren’t very good at the slots, though you were willingly to try your luck at the blackjack table as long it wasn’t a high stake one, Husk thought he had actually achieved the state of inebriation to where he was hallucinating.

However, he was proven wrong when you told him that you’ll be ready by seven to go to the casino. Since he’d been on good behavior and Charlie never had any issues with you as of late, the princess wouldn’t mind the two of you being out for a couple of hours as long as you kept your phones on you in case anything happened.

Alastor could care less since watching a tormented, loveless war veteran being bewitched by a beguiling songstress provided him with much needed entertainment~.

Upon arriving at the casino, Husk pulled you over to the slot machines. He showed you how they worked and how much money you should put in them, so you don’t lose all of it in under an hour. The old-fashioned ones with the levers weren’t so bad, though the rounds would go pretty quick if you weren’t paying attention to the denominations; same thing applied to the new tech ones, betting could go from 88 cents to up to two dollars.

In the end, you quit after trying three different machines and went to go find the restroom. Husk decided to go find a bar and order a couple of drinks. One for himself, and one for you. A couple of fellas, hellhounds by the look of ‘em, asked him if the ‘pretty little thing’ he was with earlier is with him or if you were single.

“They’re with me, so fuck off.” He grumbled.

“Ya sure about that, old man?”

Husker growled, feeling his hackles rise at the provocation, half of it he blamed on the booze. As much as he wanted to teach these punks a thing or two about showin’ respect….they weren’t worth ruinin’ his first date with you. First impressions made all the difference, least when he’d been alive. So he made a rude hand gesture and sat at the bar until he heard you call out to him.

“Everything all right, Husk? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything between you and your friends. The guys you were talkin’ to before they took off.”

He smirked. “Nah. If I knew them, they’d know how to play poker.” He stood up and grabbed his drink, handing over yours. “C’mon, let’s hit the blackjack tables and see how good you really are.” He said, leading you to your next stop for the night.

Turned out that you weren’t all talk. You were able to win five out of seven rounds, never showing any anxiety or indication that your hand was either good or bad. For kicks, Husk asked if you wanted to try the poker table. You agreed, but just to two rounds. If you weren’t comfortable continuing to play, please allow you to walk away. Husk agreed, opting to watch you from the sidelines as moral support instead of joining you at the table.

Three words could only describe what he saw next: holy fucking shit.

All you could do was smile sheepishly at him when he asked how the ever living fuck were you this good at gambling and didn’t say anything as the two of you left the casino with a hefty sum of cash.

“Would you believe me if I said I’d gotten banned from more than one casino when I was alive because I was just good at card counting?”

He stared at you for a long moment before he grinned widely, clapping you on the back. “I knew I had my eye on ya for a reason!”

‘Course, you’d never know that he wanted to show you that he’s one hell of a gambler at the casino instead of the other way ‘round. How he knew to play his cards right and treat you to something nice, show those little shitheads that a real gentleman knows how to win the game and a good-lookin’ partner all in the same night.

Still…gettin’ spoiled at a nice restaurant for a change wasn’t too bad…so long as no one from the hotel saw them. Especially Alastor.

And that was how your first date went. Nothing too crazy, least the two of you didn’t run into any trouble on the way back to the hotel. Husk walked you to your room, wished you good-night, and went to drink a little more before passing out in his own room.

Husk hasn’t been with anyone in an incredibly long time. There will be moments when he might seem harsher than usual towards you and tries to brush everything off, or chug it down with alcohol. He struggles to communicate with his feelings to someone else, so patience and respect for boundaries is key.

He does not tolerate any disrespect towards you, even if you try to tell him to ignore the sinner who is catcalling after you when the two of you are walking through the Pride Ring to pick up stuff for the hotel. If it happened at a bar while you’re on a date? Be prepared to have chairs go flying or Husk tearing a new hole in the poor bastard who pissed him off.

He is not a fan of PDA. He has a reputation to uphold in the hotel and on the streets. Behind closed doors, however, he will be more lenient. Cuddles and midday naps are exceptional, with him pressing against your body with his tail loosely coiled around your thigh and one of his wings acting as a shield or even a blanket.

Speaking of feathers and fur, he does need to groom himself periodically, especially when it's molting season. You need to be gentle if you want to help him since his skin can be especially sensitive around this time of the year.

Actions speak a lot louder to him than pretty words. If you show him that you do care for him and will never betray his trust or loyalty, he will return it tenfold. He will do everything in his power to make you as happy as you have made him in this shithole.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@selineram3421

@nixie-writes

@dragonempress18

@ceoofdabicorpsensfw

@lbcreations-blog

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

#an idyllic novelist #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel 2019 #gn!reader #x reader headcanons #x reader

[jacktorrancekinny]

Disco Elysium Swap AU Headcanons!

I wanted to think of a swap Disco Elysium AU that was still sensitive to the themes of the game, and thus preserved the racial bias that Kim faces in the police force. He would not be able to get away with as much as Harry did, because of course, Harry is white.

KIM

Kim’s breakdown began with the death of Eyes, his partner, obviously. Eyes, however, had been his shield from the rest of the 57th. Eyes was his Jean, but he was also Eyes’ Jean. They both supported each other through shitty times. Eyes was the one most likely to get promoted, and if he was promoted, it forced the Captain to promote Kim too because Kim was the competent of the two of them, and not promoting Kim as well would show his racial bias. Kim, treated as an outsider, was able to glimpse the world through Eyes, figuratively and literally, which is why Kim’s Esprit De Corps equivalent is called ‘Eyes’.

When Eyes died, Kim was not assigned to a new partner, and is still waiting for a new one, because they were preparing to get rid of him. That is the reason why Kim is sent to Martinaise in this AU, because the 57th expects him to fail, and are going to use the opportunity to demote him or dishonorably discharge him from the RCM. Depending on the ending in this Swap Game, Kim can absolutely be forced to leave the RCM if Harry does not ask him to join the 41st.

Kim’s breakdown is not at all like Harry’s. He’s come into work late a few times and his solve rate is not as good as it was. He has started drinking and doing more drugs, and this is eating into his savings, meaning he’s no longer able to care for himself as he once was able to. His appearance has degraded as a result. He’s a bit scruffier, less well groomed, he cuts his own hair because he can’t afford the barber. Because he is no longer ‘model’, he is seen as a delinquent foreigner, and perceived as a troublemaker in his precinct, despite no real evidence for it. He’s also more involved in the punk scene in his free time. (His Superstar Cop equivalent is Punk or ACAB Cop.)

Kim’s signature is still Authority, but it comes from a different place. Original Kim’s authority comes from his composure, poise, and self-assurity. This Kim’s Authority comes from a place like Half-Light. He appears like a man with nothing left to lose, so if you don’t obey him, who knows what will happen?

Kim’s amnesia can either come from a head injury (most likely) or an excessive drug binge (least likely) or some other medical event. Kim doesn’t have objects talk to him or anything like that, but he does get uncanny ‘hunches’ that are usually right.

HARRY

I read Harry in canon as being OSDD/DID(?), ADHD, and BPD coded, so my interpretation of Swap Harry comes from a place like that, but can be interpreted without that.

Specifically, the OSDD comes into play where the old host was starting to become too self-destructive about Dora, so, only a year into this Harry’s breakdown, the system split a new host, and the old host fused with Half-Light, who holds all the Dora sad. This means there is also some layer of amnesia, but that’s normal OSDD stuff.

Otherwise, Harry responded to his breakup with Dora, instead of begging her to come back, to prove her wrong or prove himself better than her, or at least appear better than her, so she’d eventually come back and see how wrong she’d been (it hasn’t happened yet.) It’s not that he is fully sober or anything like that, but he’s just better at containing and managing, and especially hiding his drug habits. He is a chronic liar, and extremely good at reading people and telling them what they want to hear.

He’s a can-opener not because of amazing insight, but because he’s able to bullshit his way through any conversation.

It’s a point that Harry has absolutely done way worse than Kim at work and is still considered to be fascinatingly competent. Functioning at ALL makes him seem amazing. His legend has not been diminished by any habits, and his cases solved are more around 215 when the game starts. He wants to get 500 before retirement. He’s actually reached the never-before-seen status of Triple-yfreitor, and is very proud of it. He is also far more condescending to Jean and is way more in control of the 41st than in canon.

He’s kind of oblivious to social problems, and starts the game as a centrist, but can be guided to the left or the right by the player. He would say that Kim isn’t trying hard enough to be accepted by his precinct, and that they just need to have the right conversation, but if he bonds enough to Kim, he will ask him to join the 41st. Without Harry singing his praises to the rooftops, Kim will not remain in the RCM.

Overall, Swap Harry Du Bois is morally dubious because he is far more prideful and far surer in his abilities. He kind of still talks like a gym teacher and is a little condescending to Kim, but is willing to stick anything out, because of his ‘Yes, and’ attitude from a Drama signature. He does not talk about the Skills to anyone although he desperately needs therapy. feel free to add to this and if this gets popular, I might draw art/comics for this au.

#disco elysium #disco elysium au #de swap au #disco elysium skills #disco elysium swap au #disco elysium swap #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #harry dubois #harrier du bois #disco elysium headcanon

[invisibleraven]

Compliments! "You're just so talented!" + Sweet Tarts?

Carrie preened in front of the mirror, smoothing put her performance dress. She knew her song and dance backwards and forwards, so all she could really control was how she looked. Which was amazing, if she said so herself.

“You ready Carrie?” her accompanist asked. Reggie had come highly recommend by her friend Julie, since Julie herself wasn’t able to play for her. They had gone through her numbers numerous times, so she knew he was more than competent. She just wanted this part to be over.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, plastering her show smile on her face and walking out to the stage, head held high.

She goes through the motions of the audition, giving it her all, but she's so in the zone that before she knows it the judges are giving her kind smiles and promising to be in touch.

"Great job Carrie!" Reggie says, offering her a friendly hug, which she graciously accepts. They hadn't exactly become friends over the past few weeks, but Reggie was a genuinely nice guy and his playing elevated her performance more than a recording would have.

"Thanks. Listen, you've been so great with helping me-could I thank you with some lunch?" Carrie offered. "Or even just a coffee?"

"Umm, I actually have my own audition next, so after that?" Reggie said shyly.

Carrie was a little gobsmacked, watching Reggie walk out on the stage and introduce himself, picking up a shiny red bass to do a song he had written himself. She didn't even know he could play another instrument aside from piano! And he had devoted so much time to help her, he couldn't have spared some for himself?

Carrie's admiration of him grew exponentially, especially when he started to play. The song was a sweet love ballad with a punk edge, and some country sensibilities. She knew she'd be humming it later that day for sure. She was also sure she applauded louder than the judges when Reggie finished, but when he turned and smiled at her, the pink of his cheeks making him glow, she knew he appreciated it.

"Reggie!" she cried as they exited the auditorium. "You didn't tell me you could.... wow!"

"Shucks, thanks," Reggie replied, running his fingers through his hair. "Honestly bass is my primary instrument, I only really do the piano for school since there's no real guitar and bass centred course."

"I'm jealous," Carrie remarked. "I can't play any instruments and here you are shredding on two."

"More like four," Reggie mumbled, blushing bright.

"Four?"

"Piano, bass, banjo, and I'm pretty decent on acoustic guitar," Reggie admitted. "I'd like to learn fiddle too, since Julie started learning it and is loving it."

"You're just so talented!" Carrie exclaimed, then sobered. "I feel so... less compared to you. You'll definitely get the spot."

"Hey no," Reggie said, taking her hands into his. "Your song blew me away, and your dancing is top notch. I could never move like that. The spot is totally yours."

"Well thank you," Carrie replied, not pulling her hands away. "So to celebrate us both being uber talented and totally getting in, how about that lunch I promised you?"

"Sounds like a perfect first date," Reggie replied with a grin. "Since we're totally going to be the power couple at that school."

Carrie snorted, swinging their hands between them. "We'll see."

But in the end? Reggie was right, and Carrie was thankful every day for her super talented boyfriend.

Especially because when they were together? They made the sweetest music-in every sense of the word.

#filled prompts #ficlet #jatp sweet tarts #julie and the phantoms

[mandowifey]

Hey! School has been really getting me down. I'm taking short winter courses so all the work is compiled into 5 grueling weeks. When I'm not bogged down by school, I love making super specific playlists, reading books and writing down beautiful quotes, going to local punk shows with friends, using fashion to reinvent myself everyday, and seeing movies in theaters (crying in a movie theater is one of my favorite activities haha.) My pronouns are she/her :-)

Feel free to write anything! Love your work <3

I'm so sorry to hear you are down from school! (Also thank you for the sweet compliment!)

I assign you; James Sandin.

Note; This is SFW, and unedited. It was meant to be a short drabble!

X x X x X x

"Are you sure you don't want us to wait for your Uber to get here?"

Rubbing your hands together as you shivered, your eyes sparkle as you look at your friends. All of you dressed well for the show you'd attended. You had anticipated drinking and in foresight opted to get a ride there. Now sober and cold, you regretted the attempt of being responsible.

"Nah, you guys go ahead! It said twenty minutes, I'll be fine." You shudder and tighten your coat around you.

One of your friends hugs you before parting ways. Time was flying by and going slow so often these days with your busy schedule and limited free time. While exhausted regularly, you still tried to indulge in the things that brought you joy.

At this time of evening, the streets were quiet and foot traffic was liminal. Your phone pinged and you checked it, hoping the alert meant Joseph, your uber driver, was approaching.

'Car accident on 14th, gonna be an extra 15 minutes.'

Groaning, you rub your arms before looking around. You spot a little bar with a bright neon sign telling you it was open. Now that you had 30 minutes, you jog across the street and shuffle into the bar. The warmth inside made you groan with relief. A few patrons regard you before returning to their conversations, mostly white noise to your ears as it mingled with the soft alt-rock music playing from ceiling speakers.

Once you sat at the bar, an older woman behind the counter approaches you and smiles.

"What can I get you?"

"I'll take a coke with ice."

The woman seemed confused, but obliges you. You trade the glass for 3$ in cash and take your phone out once she stepped away.

"And how about for you, handsome?"

You had been flicking through a couple of social media apps when you heard a husky rumble to your right. Looking up, you spot a handsome gentleman in a nice suit about two chairs down from you. His cheekbones were prominent and caused a gaunt appearance to his face. He was much older than you, and you could not help but linger as you watched him speak.

"Rum and Coke, on the rocks."

His hand reached up to remove the Bluetooth from his ear and put it in his suit. You must have been gawking because his head turned in your direction and he smiled. The lopsided smirk tugged something within you.

"Hey, were you just at Hell’s Nova?" He took cash out to pay the woman as she brought his drink.

You realize he was speaking to you.

"Oh-uh. Yeah, actually how did-"

The man lifted his hand and tapped a finger to his wrist, which prompted you to look at your own. A dark purple wristband with 'WELCOME TO HELL' scrawled in red clung loosely around you. Your face burns immediately.

"Duh." You laugh.

"I actually had a meeting nearby. Client's daughter performs there. Sorry, rude of me to run my mouth before introducing myself. I'm James."

The lights above the bar catch his beryl orbs and fill them with glistening specks. You were lost within them, even from a distance.

"I'm Y/N." Your face hurt from the blush spreading over them.

Grabbing his briefcase and drink, James moved another seat down so only one separated you. Your heart thunders as you catch a whiff of his cologne, no doubt as expensive as his suit.

James exudes a sort of calm you'd only read about. The man was like a tempered river, peaceful and comforting. He smiles again as he gets situated in his new seat. Sipping his drink, you smile and fidget, feeling like you needed to fill the silence.

"So you-

"Do -"

You both stop, having nearly spoken over eachother. After he apologized and laughed, you conceed to let him go first.

"So what do you do?"

You fiddle with your phone and smile. You explain how you mostly are focused on classes and your education. Then segway into explaining your love of poetry and how you'd found time to see the show with friends. James smiles the whole time, those peircing eyes of his not once leaving yours.

"And where do you see yourself going after all this schooling?"

That was not as easily answered. You try to think on the fly but can only let out a soft laugh and shrug. He smiles at that too. When you ask about what he does, James explains his work in loose details, while ordering another drink.

In his company, you lost track of time completely.

You learned he also took poetry classes, and he could even recite passages from some of your favorites. He additionally revealed he has two lovely children, and that while his marriage was coming to an end, he still cared for his soon-to-be Ex wife and had nothing but good things to say about her.

When your phone buzzed, it tugged you out of the warm embrace of a comfortable conversation and you gasped.

"Shit! My rides here."

James' smile lost some of its spark.

"Well, it was great getting to meet you, Y/N." He smiled and reached inside his jacket as you moved and gathered your things.

Blushing, you smile at him and were about to agree when he held a card out to you. Pausing, you gently take it and realize it's his personal business card, including a work and cell number.

"What-"

"I'd really like to hear from you again." He smiles, unaware of the pounding in your chest. "And whenever you are done with schooling, I'd be happy to hook you up with work."

Your smile was nearly painful. It took everything to not lunge and hug him. "Thank you, James. You'll be hearing from me." You promise. He gives you one last smile and watches as you hurry out the door.

The entire ride home, you rub your thumb along the business card, giddy for the possibilities it gave you.

#ethan hawke #james sandin headcannon #james sandin headcannons #james sandin x you #james sandin x reader #james sandin #the purge #x reader

[neon-pink-witch]

Remember I said I had a surprise?

Ever wonder who and why someone hired V to klep Kerry's guitar? I'll give you one guess between 6 and 8.

The smell of smoke always lingered in Seven's apartment. Cigarettes, SynthWeed and some cheap incense she'd bought to cover up the other two. Smoke always clinged to Seven, or the by-products of it. Depending on what she was wearing, Seven had a strange scent of pyrotechnic gear that stuck to her. Flash powder, gunpowder and a few other fuel sources that Molly couldn't name off hand. Some of Seven's clothes smelled of it stronger than others. Difficult scents to get out.

Her clothes today looked new. Molly couldn't smell any smoke at all when Seven hugged her. They made a nice cut from their last performance and it was clear Seven had gone shopping. It was a cute outfit but Molly lost focus on Seven's pink wardrobe when she noticed a new addition to her friend's wall.

Do not copy, repost or otherwise remove my writing from tumblr

"What is that?" Molly broke the embrace to point at the guitar hanging on Seven's wall near the door.

Seven set her bag down by the door. She pulled a cigarette out her back pocket and lit it. 

"That's what happens if you don't pay your pyro-tech," Seven smiled almost dream-like at it. Stars somewhere in her grey eyes.

Molly folded her arms, half wondering if she should leave Seven and this guitar alone. 

"What are you talking about? I pay you," Molly's comment broke Seven's trance. She blinked and returned her attention back to the redhead.

"No, not you," Seven ashed her cigarette, not caring fully if the ashes hit the floor. That's what the building owners get for leaving mold on the bathroom ceiling.

"Better question," Molly unfolded her arms only to put both her hands on her hips. "Why have a guitar? The only instrument you can play well is fire." 

"Technically it's not mine," Seven did make sure to butt the cigarette out in the ashtray. She'd left enough burn holes around the place. "It's Kerry Eurodyne's"

Molly winced and rubbed her temples, "Christ, why do you have that?"

"I didn't break into his house if that's what you're wondering," Seven's tone was flat but dripping with a sarcastic undertone. 

"Okay," Molly couldn't be mad. Seven looked too proud, too happy to have it. "Good. How did you get it?"

"The last Gig I did free-lance was for a shitty wanna-be Samurai group who thought it was 'punk rock' to not pay me," Seven explained. "Every single one was tone death and drunk." Even the memory was pissing her off.

"I thought your client contract says everyone  must be sober on stage? Or at least sober enough they won't catch themselves on fire?" Molly remembered having to sign one for legal reasons. She didn't drink or smoke but Seven took her work seriously and Molly respected that.

"Yup, they weren't. Not only even close. I had to cut a third of my pyro because they would have gotten hurt," Seven scoffed, "Maybe I shouldn't have."

"What does this have to do with Kerry Eurodyne's guitar?" Molly questioned.

"Before the show one of them went on and on about his massive Samurai collection," The small ping of pain was in her words. Seven's own collection had been sold off by her parents after she left boarding school. Seven had come home to find her room bare and painted white.

"One thing he bragged about was this shrine room behind glass where he has instruments of every member. His prize piece being," Seven made a gun with fingers and lazily pointed towards the guitar, "that."

"You hired someone to klep it for revenge?" Molly relaxed. The situation was too funny for her to be tense.

Seven shrugged, "Revenge, payment, whatever."

Molly motioned for Seven to pick her things up, they were already late to meet Terry and Cait. Seven did, letting Molly step out first before locking the door behind them.

"Honestly the worst part was when he tried to give me his number," Seven stepped into the elevator, missing the glare on Molly's face. By the time Seven had hit the button for the ground floor, Molly had replaced her glare with a confused look.

"Did you take it?" Her mouth fell open when Seven nodded.

"Yeah but for not for he wanted,* The elevator rocked and Seven tried to not show that she was ready to bend the metal of the support bars with her metal fingers. "After I got the guitar, I used his phone number to hack into the subroutine of his building and fired every electronic in the place that wasn't Samurai."

Impressed with Seven's netruning, Molly eyes widen, "Remind me to never piss you off."

"Nothing you do could ever piss me off that bad,"  Seven was testing the waters. Putting too much affection, too much sentiment in her voice. It wasn't a statement that needed eye contact but Seven would take any reason to look into Molly's eyes. Dark green, untouched by any cyberwear or optics.  

Molly froze in that water, unable to say anything back without knowing why. Her only response was to give a slightly lopsided smile while her heart pounded in her ears.

The elevator stopped harshly, Seven yelled at the motion. Molly rolled her eyes and drug Seven out by her wrist. It was the closest to holding her hand that Molly's nervousness allowed her to do.

#cyberpunk 2077 #seven darklite #molly hart #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic

[scotianostra]

Happy 60th Birthday Scottish TV host, actor and entertainer Craig Ferguson.

Ferguson was born in Stobhill Hospital on May 17, 1962 and brought up not far from where I now live in nearby Cumbernauld. He admits to growing up “chubby and bullied” At age sixteen hen left Cumbernauld High School and began an apprenticeship to be an electronics technician at a local factory of American company Burroughs Corporation.

In the early 1980s, Ferguson drummed in punk bands for a few years before working as a bartender led him to Michael Boyd, the artistic director of Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. Boyd talked Ferguson into giving acting a shot, which Ferguson soon did, finding the comedy prong of the art too compelling to ignore. Ferguson soon created an outrageous—and successful—stage character called Bing Hitler. On top of the local success he was experiencing, Ferguson used the experience as a backdrop from which to move into mainstream acting roles.

Craig’s first TV appearance came on an episode of the sci-fi sitcom Red Dwarf in 1988, and it was enough to get him to head overseas to the United States for his first role on American TV. The part was playing a teacher in the pilot episode of High, which starred Gwyneth Paltrow and Zach Braff. The pilot wasn’t picked up, though, and Ferguson headed back to Scotland.

Once back home Ferguson found that roles came sporadically before he landed his own BBC show The Ferguson Theory in 1994 While the sketch comedy show put the funnyman front and centre, it only lasted five episodes.

When Theory was no more, Ferguson packed his bags once again for America. But this time he’d find a lot more success waiting for him than he did years before. When Ferguson joined The Drew Carey Show as Nigel Wick in 1996, his run lasted several seasons and led to the actor becoming a known quantity in the world of U.S. television.

Ferguson’s busy life on TV and the big screen got a lot busier in January 2005, when he took over the late-night comedy series The Late Late Show. Once it found its footing, Ferguson’s show was another hit, earning its first Emmy nomination a year into its run. Mixed in with his work on the show were several high-profile big-screen roles, often voice-over work, in movies like How to Train Your Dragon, Winnie the Pooh and Brave.

Ferguson, who became an American citizen in 2008, is also an author, publishing Between the Bridge and the River American on Purpose and  Riding the Elephant: A Memoir of Altercations, Humiliations, Hallucinations, and Observations..

In April 2014, Ferguson announced he would be leaving The Late Late Show at the end of 2014, with the final episode aired 19 December, Craig  went on to win two Emmys with his new game-show for the same network.

Craig returned to Scotland in 2019, his younger son goes to school in Glasgow and he said in an interview a couple of years ago that he caught Megan, his Vermont-born wife saying “umnae”, for those non-Scots amongst us it means am not! 

In his memoir Riding the Elephant, Ferguson writes candidly about his alcoholism, how his toxic drinking nearly derailed his early career – and is honest enough to take the reader beyond the “happy ever after” moment to set out the challenges of living life in recovery. He has been sober for over 27 years now, and openly admits at his lowest ebb he contemplated taking his own life.

Craig was back in the stand up at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2019. While many Scots might knock Craig Ferguson for what they perceive to be him selling out with his time in the US I personally like the guy and his attitude, as he says:

‘My only ambition is to be authentic, not pandering to someone else’s idea’

Quite right Craig, be your own man. In 2018 he had a guest role in Still Game, in which he played a suave stuntman, he recalls meeting the sitcom’s creators Greg Hemphill and Ford Kiernan in Los Angeles and asking them to write a character for him, he later said;

'And they wrote the part of a phoney prick who comes back from California!’ 

He took that on the chin as he should.

When James Corden revealed that his own tenure on The Late Late Show would end in 2023, Twitter was awash with suggestions that Ferguson come back. Craig took to twitter and said 

Congratulations to @JKCorden on a spectacular run.  Outstanding job! Retirement is awesome.  See you at the bingo. Well done my friend. Xx

I follow him on twitter and liked his reply to  Radio Personality Shorty 

We really need to bring back the Craig Ferguson Show on CBS. @CraigyFerg.

His reply, 

Craig's more recent work includes appearances in the shows Urban Myths and The Hustler, a wee fact you might not know about oor birthday boy is that he was one of the writers of the ITV show Doc Martin, writing 12 episodes for them.

#Scotland #scottish #comedian #actor #entertainer. #tv host #happy birhtday

[silvanoir]

The Situation

Off to MRI #2 in a few minutes, this time on my neck. I hope they find the source of the pain in my head/body, because its been getting worse.

Also, the other "SITUATION" has gotten worse (I said I'd post about it when it resolved, it hasn't resolved, but it's getting to a breaking point. literally)

I've told you before that Work Friend is in a really rotten living setup. but after getting sober (mismanaging things when he was drinking, plus a bad case of multiple someones using his cards putting him in debt) all he can really afford is this horrible dark basement apartment.... no not even that, it's a lumpy couch with a tiny kitchen and a bathroom where the hot water doesn't really work most of the time. And so, so many spiders.

And the landlady from hell. A pill addict that screams and stomps around and occasionally bursts in and takes or breaks his stuff. Including HIS medications (I bought him a little safe to keep them in). In February she was particularly high and drunk and stomped down and screamed at him, tried to break his keyboards (he used to play bass in metal and punk bands but he's trying to get away from that because that scene has alcohol ... he can't play in bars and dark clubs anymore... ) and he was practicing his music with headphone so he didn't bother anyone (and of that he was teaching himself oldies and church music). Not good enough! She also took a bottle of gingerale, poured it all over his bible and other stuff and ridiculed him for being sober now.

That tipped him right into being suicidal. It was bad. I (and his therapist) helped get him through it but it was BAD.

He also named me his official new sponsor (aka the person he talks to to make sure he STAYS sober) because the one he had wasn't working out.... he didn't ask me if I was ok with this, but I wasn't going to refuse either. It seems like I might be one of the few people on the planet who actually cares about his wellbeing.

It's all backwards! He's trying to be good now and those around him are treating him like a criminal or something! When they are the crazy/violent/drunk/high ones!

He already has PTSD because of multiple awful things that happened to him in his past (can't type up any of that) and anxiety, how can he heal in an environment like that? The reason why his drinking got so bad, bad enough it nearly killed him a few years ago, was the stress of everything.

He came to work today with a bloody nose because the landlady's daughter clocked him with his phone (the phone I gave him after his flip phone died... the phone he has now was one of my dads old phones that we call the brick phone because it is a 4g pay-as-you-go cellphone that is the size shape and weight of a small brick.... but its an old style that still has buttons, which he likes).

I knew! I knew things would go from emotionally abusive to physically abusive! Breaking his things to breaking him! (Landlady's husband has also broken most of his tools... makes it hard for him to do his side-gig as a handyman).

I tried to warn him but he said it wasn't bad as all that when I did.... well it's as bad as all that. Of course, he's strong and over 6 ft tall and could easily pulverize them both, but he's a middle-aged man and they are women and an old man and if the cops show up he's the one who'll be hauled off to jail.

Me and other coworkers are trying to figure out a way to get him out of there. It's tough because he lives week-to-week and has ruined credit.... where else is he going to rent....

if i didn't have my elderly dad with me I'd give him my guestroom.

#personal #work friend

[519magazine]

[soulsunforgiven]

finally home. that was... nice. i needed a nice day.

#the man without a plan {miscellaneous | ooc} #i thought we were just picking up a bookshelf from home but like #skip managed to fit the chair and the mirror into the car too #all that's left is the steamer trunk and some bits and bobs now #he helped me out a lot and on the drive there and then to coffee and then back from coffee he told me a lot about his life #about how he had to get sober a few times and about the punk shows he went to and how he's punched misogynistic pricks #in mosh pits before or just peopel being assholes in general or dragged them away and told them off #and had these guys twice his size just fu cking cower back and apologise because skip can be fucking terrifying if he wants to be #he's not much taller than me; maybe a few inches taller and thin as a twig but holy shit that guy has #monumental energy and he's a scrappy motherfucker you can tell so i whoelheartedly believe people will back off when he says #he saw a post i made on facebook lsat night about being trans and spent a while talking to me about that and like #i didn't realise how much i needed an older as-far-as-i-know non-queer person to affirm me but i did #he told me about a song on the ride to the apartment that he shared with me to help with my feelings about being trans #and didn't talk more about it til our ride home when we were both a lil more talkative about personal things #i told him how long it's taken for my mum to accept that i was trans and that she could have told me ages ago bc she saw the signs #she just didn't wanna admit it - and he just sort of exhaled a lil laugh and said 'theres nothing wrong with it' #and i laughed kinda bitter and said that mos tpeople don't agree with that statement and i was driving #but i could kinda feel his eyes on me as he glanced my way and then he repeated in a quieter more insistent voice: #'there is nothing wrong with it' #anyway he's wonderful and said that my 'hands gave it away' to him at first that i was trans but i 'have the looks' and not to worry and tha #t he's thinking of telling his girlfriend's daughter - a lesbian - to come to me for fashion tips since she's having trouble shopping for #mens' clothing and i asked if he's okay with hugs and he hugged me super tight and said he is and that he also tells his friends he loves th #em and basically it was a super great day and he's a wonderful friend and he makes me smile and laugh and really that's what matters and imm #gonna go eat and shut up now see you all later

[live-the-fangirl-life]

It's Only Temporary

Feyre Archeron x Rhys - Tattoo Artist Oneshot

After losing a bet, Rhys gets a new tattoo

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, Tattoos

2492 words

*******

“Fey!” Cassian’s voice boomed through the glass door as he grinned and waved to get her attention.

Looking up from her sketchbook, Feyre watched as Cassian tried to open the locked door again, shaking the wood so hard the bell hanging above it started chiming frantically.

She rolled her eyes and walked out from behind the counter she’d been working at, quickly getting to the door before his enthusiasm ripped it from its hinges. Feyre had barely flipped the lock when Cassian swung it open and immediately wrapped her in a bone crushing hug, lifting her off the ground as she laughed before setting her back down and ruffling her hair. Then he strutted through the dim lobby of her tattoo parlor taking his time to survey the walls of designs, the colorful crushed velvet couches, and the small rack of t-shirts and stickers she had for sale with the shop’s logo printed on them.

The Rainbow was Feyre’s baby. She’d saved almost every penny from the time she’d gotten her first job in order to afford her shop. After studying art in school and apprenticing for a few years, she’d finally been able to buy a small storefront in Velaris and built her business from the ground up.

It didn’t hurt that most of her friends liked tattoos and were always happy to be her canvases and subsequent advertising.

Shaking her head at Cassian who’d made himself at home near her front counter, Feyre returned to her spot with her sketchbook, now open to display a howling water wolf, and raised a brow, “Can’t you read? I’m closed.”

He scoffed, grinning, and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Not for me, Archeron.”

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help her smirk when she told him, “It late and I’m busy. Care to tell me why you’re here?” Feyre looked at him expectantly.

Cassian just grinned. “Do I need a reason to visit my very successful, very talented friend?”

“Wow, such flattery, Cassian. What exactly are you trying to get me to agree to?” She raised an eyebrow, trying to reign in a smirk.

He flashed her a wolfish grin. “Convince your sister to go out with me.”

Feyre snorted. “I don’t think you’re Elain’s type.”

“You’re hilarious, Archeron.” Cassian deadpanned and rolled his eyes, “Come on, Fey. Talk me up to Nesta.”

Feyre sighed, closing her sketchbook, and resigning herself to not getting anymore work done tonight. “Cass, I’ve done all I can on that front, believe me. You’ll have to win her over all on your own.”

“Been trying that for years.” He grumbled then ran a hand through his hair.

“I know that isn’t why you’re here,” Feyre insisted, “you ask me to do that literally every time you see me, so I know you didn’t seek me out for that. What’s up?”

He shot her a grin that made his single dimple stand out as he glanced at the door to the parlor. “Az is on his way over with Rhys and we were hoping you would do us a favor.”

“A favor?” she asked skeptically.

Cassian kept grinning. “You see, baby Arche,” Feyre snorted at the nickname. “your idiot boyfriend made a bet that he never stood a chance of winning, and he lost. Horribly.”

“Okay…” she rubbed at her face, trying to steel herself for whatever she was about to hear. Cassian’s shit-eating grin wasn’t making Feyre feel any better.

“Az and I want you to tattoo a little something special on Rhys for us.”

She paused, halting her shuffling of her sketches and furrowed her brows. “You want me to tattoo something on Rhys…because he lost a bet?”

“Yes.”

“Does Rhys know this?”

A slow smirk spread across Cass’s face, “He knows he’s coming to see you.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Cassian, why would I agree to tattoo something—you haven’t even said what it is, by the way—onto my boyfriend when he obviously doesn’t even know what’s happening?”

“Well,” Cass pointed out, “I’d hope he’d realize what was happening once you sat him in the chair and got your needles and ink out.”

She snorted, “You know what I mean.”

“Because, Fey,” He sighed dramatically, “Little Rhysie is a punk and lost a bet so now he has to get a tattoo of our choice. And who better to do it, than his wonderful tattoo artist of a girlfriend?” his grin came back, wider than before.

Feyre said nothing for a moment as she stared Cassian down. Then she asked, “How drunk is he?”

Cassian chuckled, “Very.”

Feyre smiled slowly, “And how drunk are you?”

He narrowed his eyes at her but lifted his fingers to show a small space between his thumb and pointer finger. “Just a little bit.”

“So, a lot.” Feyre corrected

Cassian was silent a moment before grinning, “Rhys bet that he could outdrink me.”

Feyre blinked, then clutched the counter as she bent over laughing. She heard Cassian’s loud chortles next to her a moment later. When she stood back up, she wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head.

“Oh, my gods,” She was still chuckling, trying to picture Rhys go shot for shot with the mass of a man standing in front of her. “I love him, but sometimes he’s such an idiot.”

“I think you mean all the time.”

Just then, the bell on the door jingled again and Azriel held it open with one arm as he gripped a stumbling Rhys with the other.

“Hi, Feyre.” Azriel nodded at her as the door shut behind him.

“Hey, Az” She chuckled and walked towards the pair. “Can you lock that? Thanks.”

“Feyre, darling!” Rhys suddenly beamed and stumbled towards her, stepping close enough that she could smell every shot he’d taken on his breath. He used both hands to gently cup her face, squishing her cheeks in little and pressing a sloppy but sweet kiss to her lips. “I missed you.”

She smiled at him but stepped back to avoid his breath. “I saw you a few hours ago.”

He pouted, “That’s too long. I’ve had to look at those two ugly faces all night when I could’ve been looking at your dazzling one.”

“Why does he have to insult us when he compliments her?” Cass grumbled to Azriel who looked mildly amused.

He snorted. “Perspective.”

Feyre removed herself from Rhys’ grip only for him to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side. She leaned into his touch, and helped keep him standing, as she rested her head on his shoulder as she faced Azriel.

“Az, can you fill me in? Cassian tried, but I don’t know how much I trust his story.”

Cassian feigned hurt and shook his head. “Fey, I am wounded that you doubt me.”

Azriel’s explanation had been essentially the same as Cassian’s with a few more details and a little less slurring of words. She’d rolled her eyes but told them to wait in the lobby while she took Rhys back to her studio.

Feyre had no intention of actually tattooing her very intoxicated boyfriend just because he and his brothers had made a stupid bet. He’d have to be completely sober before she agreed to that.

Guiding Rhys into her back room, she waited until he was sitting on the edge of her large, leather chair before moving to stand between his spread legs. His hands instantly found her waist and she rested her palms on his thighs.

Quirking a brow at her boyfriend, Feyre asked, “Did you actually think you could out drink Cassian?”

Rhys scoffed, “I’m just as big as he is, why shouldn’t I have been able to do it?”

Feyre smirked as Rhys pouted. “Babe, you may be fit,” she huffed a laugh at his raised brow, “okay, fine, extremely fit, but Cass is a tank. And he’s a bartender. There’s no possible way you could’ve won that bet.”

Rhys kept pouting, flexing his fingers over her hips, “You’re supposed to be on my side, Darling.”

She laughed and pecked him on the cheek. “I am, always.” She kissed his lips for good measure. “But I’m going to tease you when you’re being an idiot.”

He used his grip on her hips to pull her towards him for an actual kiss. Feyre stayed wrapped in his arms for as long as she could stand his horrid tequila-drenched breath. Letting her arms loop around his neck and her fingers tangle in his hair, Feyre pulled back.

Rhys let his forehead droop onto her chest and Feyre had the distinct feeling that it was less about the warm comfort of her skin and more about an excuse for Rhys to press his face into her breasts.

“I don’t hear any needles buzzing back there, Fey!” Cassian bellowed from the lobby area. She snorted at the clear sound of a hand hitting someone’s head and the following curse.

She rolled her eyes but kept playing with Rhys’ hair as he mumbled something too muffled for her to understand.

“What was that?” she asked.

Raising his face, he looked at her and winced. “Are you actually going to tattoo me?”

She snickered at the disdain on his features.

“Maybe I should,” she teased, “to teach you a lesson making ridiculous bets.”

Rhys winked. “you can teach me a lesson anytime, Darling.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and was about to retort back when Cassian yelled again, “Baby Arche! We’re not paying you to make out back there!”

She snorted and hollered, “You’re not paying me at all! I’m getting there, don’t rush me.”

Azriel’s voice came next, “We didn’t bring your intoxicated man-child here so the two of you could get it on in the back parlor.”

Rhys snorted and replied back, “You say that like it’s never happened.”

“Rhys.” She hissed, smacking his arm as he chuckled.

“Gross,” two voices audibly gagged from the other room. “You’d better sanitize back there!”

A pause, then a disgusted Cassian said, “You’ve tattooed me on that chair, I don’t want to know what you sickos have done to it.”

Feyre and Rhys snickered before she said, “You might want to avoid the front couch then, too.”

Rhys, still grinning, added, “And the check-out counter—”

“—and the bathroom sink!” Feyre finished.

“Heathens.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys and Feyre laughed at their friends’ obvious disgust.

“I don’t need to hear any more of this,” Cassian insisted. “Ever.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and turned on her machine, allowing the steady buzz of the needle to flow into the waiting area; Cassian’s loud whoop telling her the sound was loud enough.

She carefully set the device on her counter and let the buzz echo through the room as she turned towards a small drawer and pulled out a colorful packet.

Rhys raised an eyebrow at the needle she clearly wasn’t prepping to use on him and watched as she flipped through the pages of whatever she was holding.

She paused on a page and grinned, flipping it around for him to see.

“Do you want a flying bat or one that’s hanging upside down?”

Rhys blinked. Twice. He slowly grinned back at his clever girlfriend as she handed him the sheet of temporary, press-on tattoos.

They were cartoonish-looking designs; the ones made for children that you could use a wet cloth to press onto your skin. He flipped through the rest of the pages to see a variety of other animals and plants, all ready to be cut out and used.

“Is my only choice a bat?” He grinned, looking back up at Feyre to see her already grabbing a scissor and paper towel.

She snorted. “That was what your brothers insisted on.” She took back the packet and carefully cut out the two bats. “They may be drunk enough to think a press-on is a real tattoo, but I don’t know if they’d accept anything else.”

When she held up both bat options for him, he nodded towards the one with outstretched wings. Feyre wet the paper towels and pushed his sleeve up to reveal his toned forearm. After making sure his skin was clean and dry, she gently pressed the bat onto his skin and covered the design with the wet paper towel, allying pressure to keep the image steady.

Rhys reached over with his free hand and grabbed the packet again. “Why do you have these? Besides for saving your boyfriend from a stupid bet?” he finished with a wide grin.

She laughed, still pressing firmly on the tattoo. “I keep them for the kids.”

At his raised brow she rolled her eyes. “Sometimes my clients can’t help but have their kids with them, so I keep the press-ons for those who see their parents and insist they get a tattoo, too.” She snorted at some memory. “I used to have washable markers for them to use but then a few of them would walk out of here looking like some avant-garde painting, so I switched to these. It’s adorable when they hold their cartoon dragon next to their parent’s actual ink.”

Rhys chuckled and Feyre lifted her hand, slowly peeling back the sticky paper to reveal a cute, flying bat.

He flexed his arm, grinning as the movement made the bat’s wings look as if they were flying. “How do I look?”

She leaned in to inspect the bat, making a show of darting between the cartoon and his real tattoos trailing down his arm. “Hmm, I think maybe when you’re sober, I should actually ink this onto you.”

Her grin made him laugh. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss next to the bat, careful not to brush it, and he smiled as she looked back at him.

“How’s it going?” Az’s low voice carried from the front room, making Feyre chuckle and Rhys huff.

She leaned over and expertly turned off the still-buzzing needle before calling back, “Just finished!”

Rhys brought his arm up and laughed again at the small, cheery bat placed between his darker swirls of years-old markings. He locked eyes with Feyre again as she put her supplies away and moved to stand once again between his legs. “You think they’ll buy it?”

She snorted, “Probably not.” She laughed again at his sullen expression. “But I don’t think the bet ever specified the tattoo having to be real.”

Rhys’ grin returned in full force as he brought his hands to Feyre’s face and guided her lips towards his. “You, Darling, are spectacular.”

Laughing again, Feyre leaned out of his reach. “And you, babe, still have horrible breath.”

Rhys rolled his eyes but loosened his grip as she stepped out of his arms, taking her hand as she led them back towards the front lobby.

“Come on,” she said over her shoulder, winking, “let’s show them your new tattoo.”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @angelic-voice-1997 @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash

#feysand #feyre #rhys #rhysand #rhys x feyre #feyre x rhysand #feyre and rhysand #rhysand and feyre #feysand au #feysand fic #feysand fluff #rhys and feyre #feyre and Rhys #acotar #cassian #azriel #tattoo shop #fake tattoo #feyre archeron #a court of thrones and roses #feyre x rhys

[storiesforallfandoms]

pushing buttons ~ eminem

word count: 1912

request?: yes!

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings “Hi me again I literally love your writing so much omg I was wondering if you could once again indulge my Eminem obsession cuz my baby don’t get enough love🥺🥺 I was thinking like a angst/fluff where MGK tries to hit on the reader even though he’s with Meg Fox now and Em loses it and dr Dre and Paul try to call him down but it doesn’t really work and the reader has to chill him out. I love you I love your writing and I love you bye!🥰☺️❤️❤️”

description: in which his enemy tries to push his buttons by flirting with his girl

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warning: swearing

masterlist

“What the fuck is that prick doing here?”

Marshall glared at the tall blonde standing across the room with his arm around a familiar actress. It was the night of his launch party for his new album, and he thought it was just supposed to be personal friends of his as well as his friends from the industry. However, a few others from the industry had arrived as well, including the infamous Machine Gun Kelly.

“Paul invited him,” Marshall’s girlfriend, (Y/N) responded. “Said you two should try and squash the beef. Fans are getting tired of it.”

“Squashing the beef and becoming friends with the enemy are two totally different things,” Marshall hissed.

“You don’t have to be friends,” (Y/N) told him. “Just...shake his hand, look friendly for the pictures, end the beef.”

Marshall rolled his eyes as (Y/N) wrapped an arm around his waist and gave him a slight squeeze. “I know, I tried to tell Paul he should run this past you first. But him and MGK’s manager think it’s best for both of you to end the beef. He wants to move on with his new punk pop genre, you should move on too considering the fact that you absolutely destroyed him.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper for that last part, causing Marshall to smirk.

“This is gonna push me to drink,” he muttered as he noticed Kells approaching him.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” (Y/N) hissed. “If you break your sobriety, I will be your worst nightmare.”

Marshall smiled at her before dropping it to glare at Kells.

“Hey man,” Kells started. “Listen, thanks for the invitation. I know things have been rocky between us, but I hope you know I never meant any harm by my tweet about Hailie, and I still view you as a massive inspiration to me. I just thought...maybe I’d get more recognition with the diss, and it worked. It just sort of fucked up my rap career in the process.”

(Y/N) gave Marshall a quick look before sipping on the drink she had in her hand. They were both shocked by such a mature response from Kells, especially after the stuff Kells said about Marshall following the drop of Not Alike and Killshot.

She was watching her boyfriend expectantly as he processed what had been said to him. He glanced back at (Y/N) finally before saying, “No hard feelings, man. Tensions ran high, we both said some shit, I think it’s time we get past it.”

Kells smiled and offered a hand to Marshall. Although reluctant at first, Marshall took it and shook his hand. Kells soon left and went back to his girlfriend, knowing not to overstay his welcome.

“Was that so hard?” (Y/N) asked. “At least he’s being mature about it, too.”

“A little too mature,” Marshall said.

“Stop it, you just don’t like him. Let’s get a non-alcoholic beverage.”

~~~~~~

As the night continued, Marshall was pulled from (Y/N) as people kept coming and congratulating him on the album. She wasn’t too shocked, it was a normal occurrence. Luckily enough, she had come to know most of the people at the party through Marshall, so it wasn’t like she was awkwardly standing around for any amount of time.

She was at the snack table when a tall stature came to stand next to her.

“You lost your boyfriend, huh?’

(Y/N) looked up to see Kells stood next to her, a friendly smile on her face.

Despite the feud between the two, (Y/N) never had any sort of opinion on Kells. She hadn’t listened to his music - besides that one song with Camilla Cabello that blew up - and she didn’t want to form an opinion based on a beef she wasn’t even a part of. So, him standing next to her didn’t make her as angry as it had made Marshall earlier. Instead, she smiled back at him.

“Yeah,” she said. “Nothing new of course. Everyone congratulating him on the album and whatnot.”

“Seems like a lot of people just trying to kiss his ass.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “That may be true in some cases. Most of the people here who have already worked with him and known him for so long know better against that. Maybe it’s because they’ve already worked with him though, who knows. Where’s Megan?”

Kells gestured aimlessly into the crowd. “Also pulled away from me. Talking to...someone I guess.”

He didn’t sound too concerned over it, although maybe it was just the same situation (Y/N) was in. Megan was pretty popular as an actress, this was probably nothing new for Kells either.

“So, how did you and Em meet?” he asked, offering her one of the two red cups he had in his hand. (Y/N) didn’t think much of it at first. She figured he had probably gotten a drink for Megan then realized he had lost her in the crowd.

“We met through a mutual friend, actually. One from back in Detroit,” she explained. “I knew who Marshall was, obviously, but I was never really a hip hop fan. We got to talking and before I knew it, he was asking me out on a date. We were official within a month, and we’ve been together ever since. That was like...three years ago now, I think.”

She took a sip from the drink Kells had given her and cringed at the strong taste of alcohol in the cup. Noticing this, Kells asked, “Too strong?”

“Just not used to alcohol,” she explained. “I’ve mostly given it up in solidarity with Marshall. I’m proud of his sobriety, even if I’ve only been here for the tail end of it.”

“That’s lame,” Kells scoffed. “The old man shouldn’t hold you back from doing some fun shit.”

The tone of his voice plus the subtle diss caused a slight feeling of annoyance in her, but she pushed it down. Be the bigger person, she had been telling Marshall all night. She couldn’t go against that.

“He’s not holding me back from anything,” she responded. “I chose to do it. I just know it sucks to have to be sober when everyone around you is drunk or high. I want to be that one person he can confide in in those situations, you know?”

“You’re too good for him, man,” Kells said. “For real, you have a heart of gold and the body of a smoke show. You shouldn’t be wasting it all on that fucker. You should be getting with a real man.”

(Y/N) shuffled uncomfortably, now putting her cup down on the snack table. “I’m perfectly happy with Marshall, thank you. Besides, you have a girlfriend. One who is literally at this very party right now.”

He waved off the comment, as if it weren’t a real concern. (Y/N) looked around the room, desperate to find someone she knew who could save her from that situation.

Across the room, Marshall was glaring daggers into the back of Kells’ head. He could see the uncomfortable look on (Y/N)’s face, and saw the drink she had just discarded on the table. He knew something was happening, something he didn’t like.

“Why the fuck did you invite him?” he asked Paul. “Why didn’t you warn me first?”

“It needed to be an authentic meet up to end the beef,” Paul responded. “After tonight you won’t see or hear from him ever again.”

“You bet I won’t, because I’ll have him six feet under the fucking ground if he doesn’t get away from (Y/N).”

Paul looked over at the two. His face grew concerned upon seeing (Y/N)’s. “It can’t be anything too serious. He’s here with Megan, remember?”

“Do you see Megan anywhere around here, Paul?” Marshall asked.

He was so furious you could almost see the cartoon smoke coming from his ears. He was clutching his plastic cup so hard that it would’ve shattered into a million pieces if it was glass. It dropped from his hand suddenly when he saw Kells grab (Y/N)’s waist, trying to pull her closer to him. Both Paul and Dre had to grab him to stop him from going over and beating the shit out of Kells right then and there.

“Calm down, man,” Dre told him.

“He’s fucking touching her, Dre!” Marshall snapped. “She’s obviously uncomfortable, let me go over there and beat the shit out of him!”

“Not here,” Paul said. “Not in front of all these people. Go over and get her - peacefully - then you guys can just leave. This was a stupid idea from me.”

“Really fucking stupid,” Marshall hissed as he pulled away from the two. He tried to keep his anger at bay as he went over and wrapped an arm around (Y/N), effectively pulling her from Kells’ grasp. “Come on, babe, let’s go home.”

“What’s wrong, Marshall? Don’t like another man talking to your girl?” Kells challenged.

“I don’t like other men grabbing my girl when she’s obviously uncomfortable, no,” Marshall responded.

“Sounds a little insecure to me. Maybe you should work on that, man. You’ll be able to keep up with this absolute bombshell when you’re not so over jealous of her.”

Marshall’s grip on (Y/N)’s waist tightened. She tried to calm him down, but it was obvious he was past the point of no return.

“Fuck you,” he snapped. “Man, I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but you’re the one who started all of this shit. Now you’re coming here, to my launch party, trying to flirt with my girl, and now you’re insulting me?! Must be a sad existence you live, Kelly, when you can’t even be happy with your own success.  You have to keep trashing on someone else who’s doing much better than you.”

Kells’ cheeks were tinted pink with anger as he glared at the two of them.

“I suggest going to find your girlfriend while you still have one,” (Y/N) told him. “Because I will be telling her about this whole...incident between us.”

Before any other words could be said, Marshall took (Y/N) and guided her out of the building. When they got to the car, he sat in the driver’s seat for just a second, trying to make himself calm down.

“I should go back in there and fucking kill him,” he said, more to himself than to (Y/N).

“No you shouldn’t,” she told him. “He was just trying to push your buttons. He seems very happy with Megan, and there were so many other girls at that party he could’ve flirted with if he just wanted to be a scumbag. He only chose me because he knew it would get to you.”

She reached over and put a hand over one of Marshall’s that was clutching the steering wheel. On contact, he loosened his grip and realized how much his hands hurt from holding the wheel too tightly.

“Whatever his intentions were, they don’t matter,” she assured him. “I love you, Marshall, and only you. No other asshole will ever come in and swoop me away from you.”

He chuckled at her slight insult, their own way of flirting with one another. He leaned across and kissed her gently on the lips before finally starting the car.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[sinner-as-saint]

You Were Made To Be Mine - 1.

Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader

Part 1 of this series.

Run-through: Bucky is one of the greatest pirates ever known. Living peacefully in his vast and flourishing archipelago; filthy rich and respected by all those around him. He is the leader of his people and his massive fleet, and is viewed as no less than a king by his crew and the people on his lands. He, however, has a secret that he keeps from everyone. The infamous and brawny pirate has lost his heart to one of the most beautiful creations he’s ever seen – you. Ever since the moment he saw you, he knew that you were meant to be his. But he belonged to the earth, you to the ocean. Could love and resilience somehow find a way to unite two worlds?

Themes: mermaid!reader, mythological elements, pirate!bucky, fluff, slight angst

Bucky looked around in triumph and pride as he raised his goblet of ale to join the others for the toast they were making. 

Today had been an exceptionally fruitful. Good loot, good day. So they got together for a feast, to celebrate like they always did. They were quite a large mass of people, but the main hall of Bucky’s very grand fortress accommodated them all comfortably. Bucky’s home, more like his own personal castle, was situated on the main, and largest island in the middle of the archipelago he owned and ruled peacefully alongside his people.

The world called Bucky and his people thieves and looters, but really they were just doing what they had to do to support themselves and their families. Sure, along with that came a lot more money than they could ever need but that was secondary. Bucky made sure that his people knew that family and friends came first in life.

At the current feast, people cheered; some already more drunk than others. Torches lit the room beautifully, food pilled on the tables, happy faces around him, gold from his recent loot were being passed around in abundance and everyone chanted his name and told him how great he was – life couldn’t have been better. Although, as Bucky looked at the empty seat beside him, he felt a pang of heartache in his chest.

He had everything; loyalty and trust of the people he led, a massive fleet of ships ready for whenever, money, chests and chests of treasure – almost everything a man like him could ever want and need. All he lacked was you, physically, by his side. Sure, you were there in his mind like always. You were there in his heart, always.

But he craved nothing more than to just be able to hold your hand as you sat beside him, partaking in the celebration of his newest victory. He wanted to have you in his arms at all times, and show you off and shower you with love and affection. But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because while he walked the earth, you roamed the deep waters of the ocean. And you were a secret of his, one which he intended on safeguarding for a while longer. Most people around him didn’t believe that your kind existed. Even he thought the same, until the day he met you.

Bucky caught himself smiling at the thought of the day you two first met…

-flashback-

It was a September evening, and Bucky and his men were near their harbor, exploring the new ship they had just gotten made. Another addition to their ever growing fleet. And as a way to make the new ship truly ‘their own’ and following a makeshift tradition of theirs, the men decided to have a friendly swords fight. The rules were simple, first to disarm their opponent wins.

So the men began. And the shouts and the cheer and the applause and all the clanging of the metal caught your attention as you were swimming by there. Cautiously, you surfaced to find a ship filled with people. You swam closer, and hid behind a rock and peeped at them. You recognized them and their ship, they were the pirates who lived nearby. You saw two men fighting on the deck of the anchored ship. One with slightly blond hair, and the other with luscious dark brown hair. The kind that blew with the wind majestically. The kind that made you swim just a little closer. The man turned, and you got a good look at his face and something inside you fluttered instantly. And there was this pressing need to swim closer and get a good look at the handsome, muscular human.

The night was getting dark so you knew none of the men would see you anyways. The sounds of the cheer got louder and louder until it broke into a loud roar. And given you had sensitive hearing, it made you wince just a little. You assumed that one of the men must’ve won, judging by the applause and the noise.

But then you also heard something drop into the water. You quickly got beneath the surface to check, and indeed saw that a metal sword was making it’s descend in the deep water. You swam to the surface just in time to see who it belonged to.

“…what you did, you punk! Now my new sword’s gone!” the one with dark brown hair complained to his friend and smacked him on the shoulder.

The one with blond hair clutched his chest and laughed out loud, joined by the other men. You read the situation quickly and concluded that the blond must’ve disarmed his dark haired friend and the latter was upset over his new sword being lost forever in the deep waters.

Hmm, surely there was something you could do…

-

“Come on, stop sulking over a sword. You have around a hundred of those in that fortress you call a home.” Steve threw his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and walked him towards the deck again. “Tonight, we feast in celebration of the new addition to our fleet!” Steve’s words earned a round of cheers and applause and roars.

Bucky eventually joined in. He congratulated his men and promised them many more ships in exchange for their fidelity. The men celebrated in the ship that night; getting drunk as usual. And Bucky had some ale but he made sure he didn’t get too drunk because his men’s safety was his responsibility and he figured he should at least stay sober and make sure everyone is alive and well till the next morning. Everyone eventually passed out in an ale coma. And Bucky was left alone. So he reached the top deck and leaned over the side of the ship and admired the shimmery water, illuminated by moonlight. It was peaceful. And beautiful. The sea had been Bucky’s first true love. He loved everything about it. The calm waves, the rough seas, the world unexplored world underneath--

“Psst!”

He heard a voice. And his flow of thoughts stopped immediately. Bucky looked around, all of his men and Steve included, were all passed out on the deck. Someone was even somehow in the empty barrel of ale. Surely no one on the ship ‘psst’ at him.

But then he heard it again.

“Psst!” followed by a loud splash of water and something shiny moving right below the ship. Bucky looked down to find a moving figure. A large fish? He was confused.

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself and went to grab a nearby burning torch, hoping it would provide at least some help, aiding him to see what was going on.

-

You heard his sharp intake of breath as soon as the golden light illuminated the part of the water where you were swimming. Not knowing what to say, you let him look down at you, hoping he’s see that you were harmless.

“Sir, I mean no harm.” You said after noticing that his eyes were getting wider and wider. And he leaned on the side of the ship so much you feared he might just fall. “Your sword, it fell earlier. I’ve come to return it.”

He gasped again when he heard your voice. Then he left the side of the ship and disappeared.

Oh well, you sighed. You waited for a few seconds but you didn’t see him. So you began swimming away, his sword still in your hand. You made up your mind that you’d keep it as a souvenir of having witnessed the existence of such a fine specimen of the human male specie. You hoped he hadn’t gone mad after seeing a mermaid, because most tend to-

Your thoughts were interrupted just about when you reached the large rock. You heard the sound of something in the water and out of instinct, you went and hid behind to rock. You clutched the handsome man’s sword to your chest and waited.

“Hello?” you heard a voice. A velvety, smooth and deep voice. You figured it must be the owner of the sword, but you were shy so you stayed hidden behind the rock, lowering gradually into the water; hiding.

Bucky had placed the burning torch at the front of the rowing boat, another sword by his side just in case, as he rowed closer and closer to the large groups of rock not far from his ship. He could feel someone’s presence and the voice in his head screamed what it was but he refused to believe it until he saw it for himself.

The closer he got, the louder he heard the sound of your nervous breaths. You were just as scared of him as he was of you. Yet, he was fascinated. And he sure as hell wouldn’t leave until he talked to you.

“I… I mean no harm either.” He spoke as he stopped right at the rock behind which you hid. He heard the splash of water again and then his breath hitched in his throat as you slowly emerged from behind the rock.

It felt to him like the most beautiful secret of the universe was unravelling right in front of his eyes. The moonlight and the golden light from the torch made you look ethereal, angelic almost like a goddess. You were easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And he was speechless once face to face with you. And so far he had only seen half of you.

He was glad your hair covered your chest because he wouldn’t want to come off as inappropriate by staring at your chest. Which would be hard even if you didn’t have long hair which covered your breasts because even now he was having trouble moving his eyes away from your face.

Something inside him fluttered as you cautiously swam closer to his boat. He couldn’t believe it. He wondered, is this what love at first sight feels like?

“I… uh, you… you’re beautiful.” He managed to whisper, which earned him a little smile from you. You felt your face heat up. Then you remembered why you were here face to face with a human in the first place.

Oh he was beautiful as well. Long hair, rough stubble, strong built and pretty eyes.

You swam closer to the rowing boat and carefully slid his shiny sword beside him inside the boat and you moved back a couple inches. You wouldn’t lie, his gaze was making you a little nervous. But Bucky was nervous too, being so close to something so beautiful and rare was making him lose his mind.

It got a little too quiet so you began moving away more and more, and Bucky noticed. “No wait!” he called out, stopping you from swimming away.

You stopped. “Yes?”

“I… uh,” he stammered. “Can you stay for a little while?”

 And that’s how it all began that night. After he asked you to stay for a while, you smiled and nodded. Truth is, you wanted to be in his company for a while longer as well. Bucky sat in the boat and you swam beside the boat, and the two of you talked for hours. He had countless questions, to which you had answers and vice versa.

He was a little awkward, which was understandable because he had met a mermaid for the first time. At some point, you noticed he was hesitating to ask you something.

“What is it?” you asked gently, tilting your head to the side a little. He chuckled nervously.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too weird. I’m sorry if it does but… can I see your tail?” he had to ask, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He hoped he hadn’t offended you but judging by the smile on your face, he confirmed that he hadn’t.

“Oh, of course!” you beamed at him and excitedly took a dive, making sure your tail shows above the surface. You liked showing it off, it was your favorite thing about yourself.

Bucky watched in awe how you showed off your tail. It was breathtakingly beautiful; the scales were as shiny as the jewels he often found in his treasure chests. Your tail was a mixture of royal blue, azure and lilac – almost like it were the vibrant work of art of a god. The moonlight and the light from the burning torch made it glow and your fins were large and looked shiny and silky and almost luminescent.

Your upper body surfaced again, with a smile on your face. “How’d you like it?” you asked playfully.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” he stated with excitement like a kid. And you two shared a laugh over how he was amazed by how pretty your tail was.

He was funny, he made you laugh a lot that night. And each time you would give him a piece of information about your world, he’d listen attentively. That night was magical, it was pure bliss for both of you. Then the sky began getting brighter and both of you realized that you had in fact spent the entire night talking.

He asked you about where you lived, and you told him that there were underwater caves under the little isles; not far from the larger islands he lived on, and that was your home. He was blown away by how you lived quite close by but he had never seen you. Or any of your kind.

“Merpeople are good at hiding.” You replied. He smiled down at you softly.

“Well, I hope you won’t hide from me anymore.”

You talked for a while longer, then the sun began to rise on the horizon. “I should go.” You said, really not wanting to.

Bucky wanted to spend more time with you. “We will meet again, won’t we?” he asked, voice laced with hope and chagrin already because you were leaving.

“Sure. We will.”

“How will I find you again?” he asked, worried that this might be the first and last time you met. And he knew he had to see you again because he won’t be able to stay away for too long.

You answered before you swam away. “Come by the isles at nightfall whenever you want. And call out my name, I’ll be there.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you swim away, knowing that he was already whipped and catching feelings.

-

Heeding your words, two days later Bucky found himself rowing to the isles, where you said you’d show up if he called out your name. He did, and a few seconds later, he heard the splashing of water and within the next second or two; you swam towards him.

“Hi! I didn’t think you’d come back again.” you smiled as you approached his boat again. He smiled brightly as soon as he saw you.

“I had to. I needed to see you again.”

You two ended up sitting on the rock, by the shore of one of the smaller isles and you talked again; after Bucky managed to take his eyes off you. You found his amazement rather adorable.

“I heard humans say that staring was rude.” You teased softly.

He chuckled and looked down at his feet dipped in water, right beside your beautiful fins. “Sorry, you’re too pretty.”

Something inside you fluttered again. And it did so each time he rowed towards the isles to come and meet you.

And as time went by, he came by more and more frequently. And you found yourself rejoicing each moment spent with him.

He did the same. Making his way to the isles and meeting you became his favorite thing to do. And each time, you would share more and more about your life with him, and he did the same. Your conversations would get deep and intimate and personal often. Over the first few weeks, he learnt more about your family. How you didn’t have parents, and most of your siblings and friends had migrated elsewhere. And you learnt about how he grew up with his best friend Steve’s family, and he had never met his own parents.

You laid your head on his shoulder the night he told you all about his childhood and how he missed his parents. Bucky circled an arm around you and pressed his cheek to the top of your damp hair. You grabbed his hand and held it in between yours.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Your words meant so much to him. It made him feel warm and complete. He had never felt this way before, definitely never felt this way for anyone else.

-

The night he first kissed you was just as emotional and raw.

“Must be so beautiful down there.” He said in awe, referring to your life underwater. You smiled.

“It is. Very beautiful, but it’s also lonely.” You replied.

“Why so?”

You then explained to him how it all worked down there. Merpeople was slightly different than humans when it came to choosing a partner and settling down. Most merpeople found their partners at an early age and over time their bond grows stronger and stronger until they’re grown adults and are able to migrate wherever they wish to go and have families of their own.

You continued, “Almost everyone I know have found their mate, and it won’t be long until they all leave to live their lives and have families. And I’ll be left here alone because I haven’t found my one.” you sounded so upset that Bucky felt as though someone had pierced a dagger through his heart.

He reached out and held your chin and turned your head towards his. He admired your face, and your features. “Perhaps you’ve been looking in the wrong places.” He whispered, enchanted by the look in your glossy eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity. “Perhaps I have.” You whispered back and before you could think of anything else, his lips were on yours.

He poured everything he felt into that first kiss. His adoration, his warmth and his feelings – you could feel it all. His soft lips brushed against your own as he gently cupped your face and deepened the kiss. His tongue slipping into your mouth and stroking the top of your mouth gently. He bit your lip and made you smile through the kiss. He pulled away to allow you sometime to breathe, he rested his forehead against yours and kept his eyes closed as he relished the feeling of you being in his arms.

“I am hopelessly falling in love with you.” he whispered after he recovered from the kiss. It was true because he had never felt this way with anyone before. Being with you brought him comfort and warmth and he never knew he could love someone this much.

You smiled and pulled away to look into his shiny, ocean blue eyes. “I think I am falling for you as well.”

 From then on, your love only grow more and more and it solidified as it went.

-end of flashback-

 “Buck! Where are you going? You can’t leave yet, we’ve barely begun!” a tipsy Steve called out after Bucky as he tried to get away from the feast as sneakily as possible because he was already late for his rendezvous with you.

“I…uh, there’s something I need to take care of. Be right back!” he shouted at his friend over the noise of the celebration. He lied, Bucky knew he would be with you on the rocks by the shore of the isle at least until sunrise.

He got to the harbor and took a rowing boat and hurried over to you. He knew you’d be waiting, as always.

Bucky smiled as he got closer and closer to the isle. And despite having done this almost each night for the past many months, he could still never get used to the sight of you sat there waiting for him. On the highest rock by the shore, you smiled as you saw his boat approaching. Bucky could never get over how pretty you looked, with your long, damp hair down and your shiny tail. You looked no less than a goddess when the moonlight shone down on you.

Bucky always found it adorable how your fins would flutter quicker and quicker against the rock in excitement as he got closer and closer to you. He left the boat on the shore then hurried his way over to you on top of the rock, engulfing you in his strong arms immediately.

You wrapped your arms around him at once, embracing his warmth as he embraced the cold droplets of water on your skin. He kissed your forehead and you looked up and he whispered, “Hello, my love.” and he bent down to kiss your lips.

You kissed him back and pulled away to look at him. Just the sight of his face filled your heart with warmth. “I’ve missed you.” you said as he made himself comfortable beside you and scooted closer to you.

He smiled and reached up to stroke your cheek with his warm hand. “I know,” he cooed and lazily caressed your damp skin, “I was at the feast and they wouldn’t let me leave early.” He explained and you seemed all excited at the sound of the feast.

“Tell me all about it!” you placed your head on his shoulder as he told you all about how they were celebrating yet another victory of theirs. You could listen to his voice forever; it was calming almost like a lullaby.

When he finished giving you all the details, you sighed and mumbled, “I wish I could be there.”

He sensed the sadness in your voice. “I wish so too, sweetheart.” He tightened his grip around you, letting you know that no matter what barrier there was, he was here with you.

You pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. “I went looking again today. But…” you sighed again, closing your eyes briefly. “I won’t give up, Buck.”

Bucky knew what you were talking about. “Sweetheart, it could be a myth. I don’t want you to risk your safety and all that you have while looking for something that may not exist at all.” He reasoned.

You shook your head, a little stubborn as always. “No, you’re all I have. I want to be with you in the long run. And I’m not giving up on it.”

What you were talking about was a story that you had heard since you were a kid. Amongst merpeople, there was a legend that stated that in the depths of the ocean, somewhere in a deep cave lied a magical potion which could give merpeople the ability to walk the lands. The story goes that long, long ago, some of the first merpeople created said potion using ancient magic as a means to protect their kind from extinction. Should the oceans get too dangerous and inhabitable one day, merpeople could then move on land and continue existing in human form.

You had heard the story countless times, and no one ever really believed it just like most beings don’t believe in myths. But now, now that you had met Bucky and fallen in love with him, you wished with all your heart that the legend was indeed true and that you could find the potion one day, and hopefully share your life properly with Bucky. And for a while now, you’ve been obsessively looking for it.

When Bucky first heard you talking about it, he was thrilled. Then, he began thinking; was he being selfish by helping you nourish this hope? What if it was indeed a myth, and didn’t exist? Was he being selfish by encouraging this desire of yours to walk on land, when you belonged to the ocean?

“You’re awfully quiet today.” You pointed out when you noticed that he seemed deep in thought.

He voiced out his concerns regarding you finding that potion. “I mean, I can’t help but feel as though I’m asking for too much. You were born here, and I’ll be asking you to leave it all behind. For me. It makes me feel selfish.”

You sighed and laced your fingers with his. “What if the situation was reversed? And you somehow find out that there’s a way for you to come and live with me in my world. Would you do the same for me?” you asked.

He was quick to reply. “In a heartbeat.” He lifted your intertwined hands and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. “You know I would do anything for you.”

You smiled at him. “It’s the same for me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Just trust me on this, it’s only a matter of time before I find it. And then we can be together, actually together. And you can show me around your home.”

Bucky wanted that as well. He would give up anything and everything just to have you beside him all the time, to bring you home and share his life with you. But he was worried. The ocean, as beautiful as it was, it was also unpredictable and dangerous. And the thought of losing you because you went after this potion was scary, and he was sure that if something ever happened to you while you went looking for this potion, the guilt would kill him in no time.

He wasn’t too much of a fan of your obsession with finding that potion. If it truly existed, if, then it was said that the path which led to it was dark and dangerous. Deep waters where supposedly monsters lurked around, protecting the potion from getting in the hands of wrong merpeople. The thought of you getting hurt down there where he couldn’t reach nor help you made Bucky tremble in fear.

“Just be careful, alright. I can’t lose you sweetheart, I just can’t. Okay?” he made sure you understood how serious he was regarding your safety.

You nodded smiling, and leaned in for a kiss.

 Bucky got back on his boat to leave just before the crack of dawn. And as usual you swam alongside his boat till you could, seeing him off as he went away for the day. Then you would always part with a sweet kiss.

Bucky held your chin gently as he leaned down for a kiss. You remained by the side of his boat for a while longer. And then he saw your eyes getting glossy again. He reached out to stroke your cheek, “You always get teary when we get here.” He pointed to the shallow water.

You sniffled. “I just wish that one day, I can go further than this. With you.”

Bucky sighed as your reply. He didn’t like how you often blamed yourself for the barrier that was there, naturally, between the two of you. “Hey,” he tilted your head up slightly. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead again. “Now go and get some sleep. And don’t go wandering off too far.” He always told you that, fearing that one day you might swim too far and won’t be able to find your way back to him.

That fear of his formed on the day you told him that once when you were a kid, you wandered off too far from home and got lost and couldn’t find your way back until one of your older siblings came to find you. The mere thought of you lost and alone in unknown waters and the idea of never seeing you again sent unpleasant chills down his spine.

You giggled at his warning and swam away. He watched you as you went, heard the splashes of water as you swam further away. Then it all stopped, meaning you were in deeper water, on your way home.

Bucky cared a lot about you and he didn’t want you to be heartbroken over not being able to find that potion. Yet at the same time he wanted you to find it so you two could be together forever. But then he was always filled with the guilt of being selfish for even thinking so.

He didn’t want you to change, despite how much you wanted to do so, just to be with him. Yet, the thought of letting you go was next to impossible. Bucky was conflicted, and so were you sometimes. But the one thing you were dead sure about was one another and both of you were willing to do whatever it takes to preserve your love. Bucky just hoped that it doesn’t get to a point where the only option would be letting you go for your own well-being.

Then again, no love story came without challenges and tragedies…

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #pirate!bucky #mermaid!reader

[foulcrownkryptonite]

Tracing Constellations

A storm rages through the 104th's wooded training quarters, leaving a long hike for Jean and Marco to fix a water-logged issue... the time alone making for some unexpected discoveries.

(for the sake of the fic + levels of maturity I am achieving with this story, everyone will be legal adults!)

Chapter One: An Obscurity.

“I’ll kill them all! Just you wait and see!!” The dining hall had been relatively calm, the tranquil buzz of steady conversation and cutlery clinking against plates mixed to create a pleasant hum. It was one of those rare nights their usual starchy glop was exchanged for a more sustainable, hearty potato soup, paired with a cheap but effective booze. A good night to say the least. A good night until Eren (Dumbass) Jaeger opened his obnoxious mouth. The young man’s tired phrase reverberated throughout the hall, pitching obnoxiously off the high ember ceiling. God, I’m too sober for this…

Eren’s endless prattling of ‘I’ll save the world’ or ‘I have more passion than anyone here’ had gotten old fast. It bugged the ever-loving shit out of him, and with the current daggers-for-eyes and under-the-breath-scoffs Jaeger was getting, the sentiment was well shared.

“Don’t give me that Mikasa, I mean it! I’m going to kill every last one of those-'' Eren was promptly cut off by Jean’s hands smacking the table in front of him, causing a nearby fork to clink to the ground. Jean rose from his seat with an overly dramatic flare, making a show out of swooping his hair back. If the entire dining hall weren’t already watching the pair with dreadful, tired looks, they certainly were now. Some hushed whispers and exasperated groans sprinkled about the room as Jean assumed his stance towering over Eren.

“Well, all hail King Jaeger, eh? Oh don’t worry my friends, the man who can’t balance on his ODM gear will stop the incoming apocalypse!” he taunted, voice oozing with that special kind of ridicule Jean knew got Eren’s blood boiling. He was up and out of his seat before Mikasa had a chance to pull him back. Jean snorted loudly.

“Eager are we? Well then Jaeger, fight me like the man you’re always claiming to be.”

“Says the fucking horse face”

“Oh how original”

“Foal!”

“Jackass!”

The surrounding cadets watched with jaded faces, sighing at the scene unfolding for at least the third time that week. It was no longer entertaining, or really worth wasting any time or energy on, so they returned their attention to their much more exciting dinners and side banters.

The ever arrogant duo stepped to the center of the room, assuming, of course, all focus to be on them. Sharing dissent and ill-bred sneers, they theatrically assumed their fighting position. Guess I’ll just have to put him back in his pla-

“Nope. Okay-hah, we’re done here.” Marco interrupted, their foolish behavior striking his last nerve, the last nerve of the entire collective dining hall for that matter. Sighs of relief and annoyance sounded around them as Marco marched over and grabbed at Jean’s jacket, pulling him out from the table and towards the door.

“‘Ey, what’re you doin-” Marco wordlessly dragged the half pissed, half confused and positively tipsy Jean across the room, the grip on his jacket unwavering. A small chuckle escaped Jean’s mouth at Marco's unexpectedly forceful behavior. Damn, those muscles aren’t just for show, huh?

Marco sighed as he led him towards the door, a poorly concealed smile creeping its way onto his features. “Bedtime.” Marco concluded, biting back his smile in need of a more threatening look. Jean didn’t fight it. Instead, he bristled as he caught Conny’s snide face before the door to the dining hall was shut by Marco’s boot. The low lit lantern illuminated the two in a soft orange glow and the thick wooden door effectively drowned out the murmurs coming from behind it.

The change in air was drastic, shifting from a crowded and loud mess hall to the peaceful sounds of an autumn night and Marco’s freckled face incandescent under that old lantern. Marco’s hand remained firm in the layers of his jacket yet neither made motions to move. Jean was in a weird sort of trance and yeah he should move and unblock the way for Marco but for some reason he didn't. It wasn’t as if the other had really given him a chance to, what with him still holding onto the front of Jean’s coat.. A couple still moments passed and Marco had a strange, almost calculating look on his face.

Jean couldn't remember how long he had been standing there, the alcohol starting to intoxicate his body and the sheer closeness of Marco starting to intoxicate his brain. But if the loosening grip on his chest and Marco’s suddenly flushing face said anything, whatever this was had gone on a bit too long. The last thing Jean wanted was to make his good friend uncomfortable- No matter how nice just standing there in the cool breeze with Marco’s hand on his chest… Nope. Backtrack on that line of thinking. Immediately.

Things were getting awkward fast and Marco looked like he was going to say something and shit he probably shouldn’t have chugged that last bit of his drink, huh? To clear the sudden tension caused by his inability not to fucking gawk at Marco, Jean did the only thing his dumb tipsy brain could think of: make a drunken escape.

“Betcha can’t catch me.” he blurted before breaking out of Marco’s loose hold, running towards their quarters in a less than put together fashion. Was Jean literally running away from whatever moment just passed between the two? Why yes, indeed he was. But Marco’s eventual breathy laugh and quickening footsteps enclosing in on him told Jean everything was fine. Well consider that a job well done.

The two then stupidly ran around the camp, Jean hiding behind every tree and supply wagon trying to scare Marco, and Marco doing everything in his power to tackle the other. After a particularly bone crushing embrace and a loud laughing fit quickly admonished by Shadis, the inebriated pair walked the rest of the way to their dorm, the air around them now whimsy and casual.

They trudged through the wooded path, torches lighting the ground every few yards. They sprung into sporadic fits of giggles over absolutely nothing, both of the men now feeling the full effects of dinner’ mead, and Marco no longer playing the role of the responsible sober friend.

The cadets had been training in the woods for a week now, the goal being to get them used to ODM gear and combat in a dense forest. It was a welcome change of scenery from the usual parching desert and brutal heat. Being surrounded by rich greens and active rivers somehow made the strenuous drilling and long hours somewhat enjoyable.

Though navigating the dark forested path whilst drunk proved to be more than a little difficult. His attempts at walking straight in the dense woods were apparently remarkably entertaining, as when Jean confidently waltzed straight into a tree the slightly less drunk Marco lost his absolute mind, laughing himself into a puddle on the ground.

With minimal bumps and bruises, they eventually made it to their quarters. Marco plopped himself dramatically onto an old shipping barrel and started to squirm his way out of his jacket. Ok, perhaps the other was drunker than Jean thought.

Chuckling to himself, he walked over to help his struggling friend out of the confines of the fabric. Marco stopped squirming and tried to accommodate for Jeans helping hands, flushing slightly when his eyes met Jeans. He quickly averted his gaze, turning to eye the door as Jean finished struggling with the last button.

With the jacket discarded, Marco straightened his gaze to look up at Jean, who seemed to tower over him. A couple heated seconds passed in silence until Marco started… shaking? Before concern could settle in, sporadic chuckles started to escape from the man underneath him, evolving into a full on belly laugh. Jean took a small step back and looked down at him in bewilderment but Marco just shook his head, words be damned in his current state.

“Sorry, I just-” he began to topple over himself, a fit of laughter bubbling in his stomach. “I don’t know why I’m laughing honestly-” he spat out through giggles. He was fluctuating between attempting to catch his breath and then losing it all over again. It was utterly ridiculous, but Jean couldn’t hold back his own ugly laugh at the scene. Every couple of seconds Marco would try to stop and speak through the laughter but to no avail, making Jean slump to the ground in front of Marco, clutching his stomach as his body heaved with mirth.

Marco was snorting at that point and on anyone else he would’ve been annoyed at the sheer volume. Say, if Eren was sitting on that barrel losing his damn mind over nothing at all he would’ve slapped the sense back into him. But something about Marco’s water filled eyes and big loud smile just made him feel warm. Or.. perhaps that was just the alcohol.

He grinned as he looked only at the mad man sitting in front of him. From this distance he could see each little freckle adorning his nose and cheeks and the way his nose would scrunch in between sets of giggles. It was an endearing sight, cute even, though Jean would never admit that aloud.

Too caught up in their snickering, the two almost didn’t notice their comrades briskly stumbling in, Ymir being the one who pushed the two large wooden doors hurriedly. “In.” she commanded, and stepped back as everyone else dashed inside. Jean startled and Marco’s laughter alleviated as Ymir eyed them, her face contorted so it was impressively indecipherable. She had quite the poker face, though some general annoyance seemed to seep out as usual.

“What’s the damn ruckus about?” Jean demanded more than he asked, his filter coming back down hard now that more people were around. Ymir looked at Jean with a face that basically read as, ‘Shut the fuck up you’re the one making a dopey ruckus.’ Instead of voicing any of that though, she shut and locked the door as the final cadets made their way inside.

“Massive storm coming in, it’ll do some damage” she stated plainly before her eyes went back to Marco. “Maybe you two lovebirds would’ve noticed if you weren’t screaming like damn hyenas.” she joked dryly, her arms coming to a close across her chest. Marco snorted slightly at the tease but Jean stood up defensively, though perhaps a bit wobbly.

Before he could say a word, Ymir cut in with a raised brow. “Whoaaa relax there horsey, I’m kidding. Mostly. Just go lock the windows in the other rooms before they blow out in the middle of the night.” he nodded hesitantly in response and gave Marco a floppy wave of sorts. He still looked like he was glowing, as if somehow the light from the torches outside still reflected in his pale brown eyes. A sneer from Ymir brought his attention back to… what exactly? Oh right, the windows. Jean quickly left without another word, cursing the alcohol slightly under his breath. The rest of the cadets shuffled about, fulfilling whatever it was their makeshift Captain Ymir ordered.

Not without a scoff and an eye roll, she turned back to Marco. “Just us,” she demanded. “Help me with the rest of the rooms.”

__________

(MARCO POV)

After a solid half hour of flood-proofing the place to the best of their ability, as well as general clean up, Ymir poured the two of them a small whisky to top off the night. Marco relaxed into the sole couch of the common room and Ymir slumped herself into a chair by the window.

The living space was dusky and growing winds pounded the windows, putting them slightly on edge. Nevertheless, Ymir seemed to have something to say to him. She gulped down her drink and tossed the empty glass onto the ground, Marco’s eyes widening in both awe and intimidation. He steeled his nerves as he prepared for whatever it was Ymir needed out of him.

She looked at him like a scientist to a specimen, searching for something upon Marco’s features. Marco squirmed under the intense stare, and it was then that Ymir asked the burning question, cutting right to the chase.

“Do you like Jean?” she probed. Marco sucked in a quick breath at this question. The answer was yes, but why was she asking in the first place? Not knowing exactly what angle she was getting at, he tried to answer in the simplest, most non revealing way.

“Yeah I mean we’re definitely good friends.” he said apprehensively. Not wanting to look Ymir in the eyes, his gaze fell back to the rather pretty glass in his hands, thumbs tracing the engraved pattern.

Ymir smirked at this reaction and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees in a carefree ‘Ymir’ kinda way. “Marco. You know what I'm asking.” her voice was laced with mirth and her sneering face told him she probably already knew his answer. Damn her perceptiveness. Marco had hoped he wasn’t too obvious in his… feelings. But he supposes after tonight's less than subtle antics, e.g., grabbing a laughing Jean into an animalistic embrace and holding it for much longer than necessary, people would start suspecting something.

His eyes still didn’t meet hers as he sighed shakily, knowing there was little to no backing away from this conversation. “Please just… Don’t tell him?” he pleaded, looking back to the girl sitting across from him. Her previous visible mockery and inevitable taunt had faded, her features setting into something akin to understanding.

“Sure, you can trust me.” she said casually, taking a swig of the remaining whisky straight from the bottle. “We’re the same in that way if ya catch my drift.” Although compared to, say Christa, Ymir’s words would seem invasive and rude, they were sweet in their own way. And although Marco wouldn’t say this wasn’t invasive, he appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

Regardless, Marco definitely “caught her drift”. He looked at her with a sort of twinkle in his eyes, pleased to know there was at least one other person in the 104th that wasn’t straight. He chuckled, still embarrassed despite the genuinely accepting nature of their conversation thus far. “God, what gave it away?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she sighed dramatically, “Maybe the way he was looking at you. Maybe the way you were looking at him… Or maybe just a hunch I happened to get right.” Marco laughed at the sentiment before a frown crept onto his face. “Does anyone else…”

“Know?” she finished. Marco nodded. “No, they don’t. It seems only I had the misfortune of seeing you two ogle each other all the damn time. Awful luck on my part. But don’t ya worry, your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

He snickered as he raised his glass to his lips, downing the rest of the liquid inside. Ymir gave him a curious glance, and Marco softly set the drink down to his side, hands reaching up to grab at his warming face.

“God, what do I even do about it?” he mumbled through the palms of his hands, and Ymir could taste the desperation from where she sat.

Resting her chin between her fingers, she spoke. “Look, hear me out before you interrupt and tell me I’m wrong - but he likes you too.” Marco lifted his head to speak but Ymir cut him off with a glance. “I said, listen. I see the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you tonight. He wasn’t just glancing at his friend… He was admiring you, Marco, your features. Now to me, that’s pretty telling.” Marco contemplated what she was saying, tried to really think about it before he shot it down entirely.

Is that really true? Is it even possible that the oh so straight Mr. ladies man Jean could… Feel the same way about him? It’s true they had some… moments tonight. Hell they’ve been having “moments” for as long as they've known each other. Though Jean did end up speeding away from one of those so called moments just over an hour ago… Was he being too hopeful? Oh god was he coming on too strong?

Ymir groaned at Marco's crestfallen face and stood up, closing the distance between the seats and plopping herself next to Marco. He gave her a curious glance, and in turn she gave a patient smile, well it was really closer to a grimace but still, it was the principle of it all.

He sat quietly, picking his lips with his bottom teeth. Ymir let him wallow in his worry for a whopping three seconds before kicking his ankle with her boot.

“Ow!” Marco pouted. An unspoken question of ‘The hell was that for?’ being shut down before it could be voiced.

“Oh shut it you were visibly spiraling.”

Ymir sunk into the back of the couch, pondering a moment before speaking again.

“You know, Jean isn’t going to initiate anything. Seeing as you’re more in tune with your emotions than that knucklehead is, you need to drop your damn balls and make a move.” Marco scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smile at Ymir’s bluntness.

“I know, I know… You’re right.” Marco finally begrudged, causing Ymir’s ‘Of course I'm right’ smile to appear. “But we never get alone time - we’re always interrupted before he can fully open up to me…”

“Yes!” Ymir exclaimed. “You see it now. Sure it might seem tricky, but if Christa and I can find a way, you can too.” she winked and Marco damn near choked.

“You- and- I had no idea I mean-“ he stuttered before she kicked him again.

“Shut up. And don’t tell a soul.” She smiled cheekily. He nodded intently.

“Course, Ymir.” She playfully punched him, standing up from the sunken couch.

“Good luck, Marco.” she whispered.

He beamed, his chest gleaming with a soft gratitude. “Thank you.”

When Marco turned in for the night, his mind raced with endless possibilities, ranging from transcendent to nightmarish. Wishful thoughts flashed through his mind; Jean getting impossibly close, feather light touches of hands, his head resting in the crook of Jean’s neck, Marco being told he was wanted, telling Jean he wanted him. He bit his cheek, smiling stupidly at the fantasies before he felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jean could easily not feel the same. Jean could easily have never entertained the same idyllic fantasies as Marco was now.

Great, now it hurt.

Plagued with a new sense of guilt, he tossed and turned in the seasoned cot, praying for sleep to take him away from the build up of emotions in his chest. He pondered the possibility of similar thoughts dancing in Jean’s mind…

__________

(Jean POV)

Jean didn’t “wake up”, he just was up. That damned storm last night had kept him awake practically all night. What first was an occasional gust quickly turned into a rampaging wind-demon set out to prevent him and apparently only him from sleeping soundly. Someone had cursed him. Probably that damn Jaeger out for revenge due to Jean always winning their feuds. Typical.

The little sleep he did get consisted of repeated unsolicited scenarios about… Well that didn’t matter now.

It was the morning after a ferocious storm and he was reluctant to see the wreckage he knew he had to help out with. He groaned, rolling out of his bed in an overly dramatic pout. Sure he was acting a bit like a child but right now he just needed sleep so damn everything else, he’s going to throw his little fit. He caught Marco looking at him out of the corner of his eye, his hair ruffled and looking extra fluffy. He was giggling at Jean’s stubborn theatrics, a sweater-hooded hand loosely covering his mouth. Cute. Jean felt a bit more energized after that and he didn't bother to question why.

Once dressed, he headed out to meet the rest of the trainees outside the sleeping quarters. Holy hell, the damage was bad: shingles of the roof scattered the grass, trash was knocked down, even some large trees had fallen in the distance.

Eren rolled his eyes before their commander could even step close. “God, can’t we make someone else clea-” the brat began before getting hit softly by Armin.

“Eren! One day of cleanup doesn’t equate to the fall of humanity.” he sharply retorted. Jean chuckled at this exchange, overjoyed to see the prick put in his place by his own best friend. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to spot Marco…

“ATTENTION CADETS.” their Commander roared as he marched toward the gathered crowd.

“YES SIR!” They yelled back in unison, fists crossing chests in an assertive salute.

“Deep woods ODM training is put on hold for today due to the storm. I will be assigning you each in groups of two or three to aid in cleaning this mess.” Jean scanned the surrounding area nervously, where was Marco? “Proceed to the front to get your duty from me before you grab a cold meal.” the Commander directed. Pairs of people made their way to get their job of the day, but Jean stayed behind, unable to spot Marco. Nerves crept up his spine as the line got shorter, indicating he would have to grab a job with someone he possibly couldn’t stand - especially after such a shitty sleep.

A few moments later and the remaining crowd was scant, still no Marco to be seen. “Jean, you’re on running water. I need you to go up to the creek and find the source stopping the water from running back to us. We have enough for the day, but this cannot go on. You will need a partner…” Shadis trailed off, finding only Annie and some guy Jean barely could remember the name of. Tomas? Tobiaus? Timothious?

He sighed, knowing nothing but complaints would come from either cadets if forced to spend an entire day with him. Jean crossed his arms, awaiting a choice of partner from his boss while he dreaded the inevitably long journey stuck with either insufferable silence or annoying small talk.

“Commander sir, I can go with Jean.” A pleasant voice chirped in from behind. And with those few words: salvation. Jean subconsciously uncrossed his arms and smirked as the Commander let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Marco approach.

“Thank Heavens, the one person who can stand him.” he murmured, Marco frowning at the not so quiet comment as he walked up to Jean's side. “That is fine, pack plentiful in case you get stuck for a night, we are not sure how much wreckage is up there, nor how long the journey on foot will take. There’s a shed around there you could set up in for the night. Do not come back today if you do not have ample time before sundown. Now get moving!” he ordered, his last words reverberating in a loud squawk.

“Yes sir!” They saluted before Jean met eyes with Marco. “Where the hell were you?” he questioned. Marco playfully rolled his eyes.

“Worried, hmm?” he chuckled, “Don’t worry, I was just helping Ymir with something.” he replied brightly. Ymir? That seems random… But he decided to not question it.

The two went back to their rooms to pack for their lengthy and no doubt strenuous trip up the mountain. Jean found himself not only not dreading the excursion, but actively looking forward to it. He felt a bit like a hyperactive kid as genuine excitement coursed through his veins. Should he bring his comb? Nah he probably won't need it. But what if they do end up having to spend the night and Jean turns too much in his sleep and his hair gets all messy and floofy and Marco looks at him with damned bed head and then probably giggles to himself and makes a dumb but cute comment about it because its Marco and somehow he always manages to make what Jean is insecure about into something he can actually like about himself just like when he’d said Jean’s eyes were pretty like a brown hibiscus and he stopped hating the way his eyes looked when he saw his reflection looking back at him and- Jean grabbed the stupid hairbrush and threw it into his bag.

Once sufficiently supplied, they scarfed a crummy cold meal before heading out as quickly they could manage.

Marco seemed awfully giddy as they started down a gravely path lined with fern. Though cheerful he often was, Marco was struggling to hide a smile. It wasn’t a bad sight at all, though Jean was curious. “What’s got you so damn happy today?” he questioned. Marco shrugged.

“I think I made a new friend - always a nice feeling, yknow?” Jean would say he’s surprised, but everyone in the 104th loved Marco, even the stoic ones, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who exactly his new friend was.

“Ymir?” he asked plainly. Marco nodded, a soft smile finding its way onto his face.

“Yeah. Y’know, she may seem edgy but she can be really kind.” he expressed, eyes a bit starry and thoughtful. He clearly didn’t hear how the words sounded to Jean.

Jean bit back the bitter remark already forming as envy crept its way into his mind. Why was it bothering him? He’s still his friend. His best friend even. Gah, not a big deal, keep it together. He told himself before rephrasing whatever edgy comment he was going to sneer into a hopefully harmless question.

“You like her?” he ended up asking, false humor falling from his tongue.

Marco looked visibly confused. “What? No I’m- not my type. She just has a good head on her.” he surmised. Why won’t Marco ever admit attraction? Does he not trust Jean? Jean had no problem divulging about those he found hot, so why wouldn’t Marco do the same?

The next few hours were spent bullshitting around as they walked; sharing stupid jokes about who in their class was most likely to get kicked out, a stupid conversation about Ymir that probably shouldn’t have peeved him so much, Jean going on a long winded rant about how justified he is in smacking Eren atop the head, Marco stopping to pick up random bird feathers exclaiming each time that, “No Jean, you don’t get it, this one is rare.” and eventually, as the sun started its descent towards the horizon, their casual banter shifted into their hopes for the future.

“Eh, I don’t wanna get married. Who wants to be stuck with a chick forever?!” Jean quipped. At his words Marco chuckled nervously, his gaze diverting to the coarse dirt beneath him.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t wanna get married. I’m fine living a life alone with me and my hobbies.” he said flippantly, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. Jean found the tone of his voice had changed into something more sullen and somber, and a glance over at his friend did not yield him any better results. Jean must do something about this.

He lightly elbowed his friend. “Well, if ya change your mind, I think you’d make a great husband some day.” Jean said honestly, no lick of sarcasm to his voice. Marco’s knees wobbled for a moment before he corrected them, clearing his throat to cover his obvious nerves.

“Thanks, Jean. You too.” he replied, biting his cheek. Another glance towards his friend showed a soft smile and a flushed face. Jean succeeded. Though now he too felt a bit hot in the face. He once again decided not to unpack that.

As they hiked, they spotted a would-be stream leading down to their base. Taking note of the lack of obvious running water, they were certain something rather large had blocked it. “Guess it’ll be a chore huh.” Marco pointed out. Jean began flexing dramatically, his tight muscles showing slightly through the thin white tunic.

“Pfft, your ol’ buddy Jean here will fix it right up for us, eh?” he joked, Marco eyeing him with a raised eyebrow followed with a hearty laugh. Sure, he wasn’t helping Jean’s ego, but he didn’t care.

The more they conversed alone, the more Jean felt his social facade fade, ending up losing whatever filter he had in place for other people all together. He wasn’t sure why this was the case, only knew that it made him feel relaxed and just genuinely, all around good. Perhaps it was the lack of a crowd - or Eren Jaeger. Either way, he was loosening up and took joy in seeing Marco enjoy himself on this trip as well.

“This is nice,” Jean said, smiling at the open air and lack of obvious walls. It felt open here, almost free. Hell, for the most part, they’ve forgotten completely about life inside the walls. Marco looked over and followed his friend's gaze to the sky, basking in the comfortable feeling.

“It is…” he began, sneaking another glance at Jean. “Really nice.”.

PART 2!!! 

https://foulcrownkryptonite.tumblr.com/post/663166809268224000/tracing-constellations-pt2

#JeanMarco #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein fanfiction #marco bott #marco bodt #jean x marco #fluff #kissing #making out #spicy #marco x jean #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #our second fic ever #please be nice #and gentle #slow burn #slow build #cute

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter three -  THAT MOTHER FUCKER TRIED TO GRAB US!

Summary: Popular punk band, Skull crusher, had to find a new drummer due to the sudden disappearance of the last one. As band manager and lead singer, Semi Eita’s girlfriend, Y/l/n Y/n brings Kyotani, a rising internet drummer they found online into the picture. Everything was great at first, then Kuroo, the lead guitarist, started getting creepy messages and presents. Y/n is determined to find out who is trying to sabotage the band when things only take a turn for the absolute worst. Who could be the mysterious stalker really be? Is it their new band mate? Or could it be a close friend of one of the members?

TW: Swearing, barking, name calling, drinking, drunk mentions, mentions of used sex toys, stalking, breaking and entering, underwear mentions, threats 

Taglist: Open! Send an ask or dm to be added! 

Word count; 1.5k 

________________________________________________________________

Third person Pov 

Y/n ran into the side door as she showed her pass. She ran straight to the backstage area as she climbed up the stairs.

“KYOTANI KENTARO!” She yelled as she spotted him.  She began to charge at him as Matsukawa reached out and wrapped his arms around her, slamming Y/n into his chest. 

“Woah calm down there Demon.” He said with a laugh. 

“WHY IN THE GREAT HELL ARE YOU BARKING AT OUR FANS YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” She yelled as she swung her arms at him. 

Semi and Yukie arrived in the hall just to see this as they climbed up on the stage. 

“THAT MOTHER FUCKER TRIED TO GRAB US!” He said. 

“KYOTANI YOU CAN’T JUST BARK AT PEOPLE YOU FUCK!”

“If I apologize during the concert will you forgive me?” He asked annoyed. 

“Yes.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Fine, I will fucking apoligise then.” Y/n looked at Semi as he gave her his signature Don’t say it look. She turned back to Kyotani as Matsukawa released her.  

 “Good doggy.” She said as she walked over to Yukie. Kyotani could be heard lowley growling at her. 

“Can we all just do a sound check now that I am here?” Semi asked. 

“Can we please?” Akaashi sighed as he picked up his electric Guitar.

Y/n walked back and made sure everything was set up and perfect with the stage crew. 

“Who are you?” She stopped one girl as she walked by her. 

“Oh sorry I am a new stagehand. My name is Nametsu Mai.” She smiled up at y/n. 

“Nice to meet you. I am the band’s manager.” Y/n said as she began to walk away. 

“Do you know all the stage crew by name?” Yukie asked.

“Yes. I don’t trust anyone that’s not on our team you know? Shit can get pretty fucked with fans sometimes. I will have to ask Konoha about her.” 

Yukie followed Y/n close behind before Y/n dismissed her to take pictures. Y/n made sure everything was ready to go behind as Yukie did her thing. After she was finished, Y/n sat down in the front row seats holding a microphone.

“Okay bitches, what are we eating tonight?” She asked into the mic. 

“Can we get some motherfucking sushi in the club?” Matsukawa asked. 

Y/n gave him a thumbs up as did the rest of the band as she and Yukie sent in a huge order for a pre show snack. Everything arrived quickly. They all sat down to eat as Yukie whispered to you.

“Can you give gifts to the guys?” 

“Yeah we have a fan box by the door I will check over after we head back to Mine and Eita’s after the show.” Yukie smiled at her words. After they cleaned up the food mess Yukie ran over and tossed the letter in a box. 

Kiyoko texted the group chat letting yukie and Y/n know they had arrived. You walked to the main door as you let them in. 

“We have to get upstairs quickly. It’s already 7:45 so they will be letting everyone in at 8pm.” Y/n said as she rushed them up the stairs near the entrance. 

“Hello Mrs. y/l/n.” said one of the security guards. Y/n turned to him. 

“Oh shit, what’s up Ukai!” 

“Sorry about earlier. I wasn’t scheduled till 7pm so the guy running the show now is a complete idiot.” He said. 

“It’s already man, You are protecting the upstairs?” 

“For now down here, till the show starts. I am heading up to the front of the stage after.” 

“If you see the new stagehand do anything weird, shoot me a text please.” 

“Is she acting weird?” He asked, concerned in his voice. 

“Yeah I don’t like how she was watching the band. Remember what happened with the last newbie 2 years ago? I don’t trust anyone I haven’t known for a long time.” 

“Me either. Well enjoy the show Y/l/n.” He said as he moved for them to go up. She smiled at him. 

“How come you are sitting with us?” Yachi asked. 

“Eita told me to enjoy myself tonight, drink a few before the after party we always have.” 

“Awww he’s so sweet to you!!” Yachi said. 

The four girls headed to the bar as they ordered their first round of drinks for the night. 

“Let’s take some pics with us and the drinks now for twitter.” Yukie spoke up. 

“That’s a good idea.” Kiyoko said smiling. 

The concert was in full swing now, it was about the middle of the show as Semi stopped playing for a second. 

“HEY GUYS WE GOT A COUPLE ANNOUNCEMENTS TO MAKE BEFORE THE REST OF THE SHOW!” He shouted into the mic. The crowd quieted down to hear them speak. 

“First, let’s hear it for ourt new sick ass mother fucking drummer!” The audience went nuts as Kyotani stepped up to the mic. 

“What’s up.” He said. Soon a few pairs of underwear and bras could be seen flying up on the stage. “Sorry for barking at you mother fuckers outside.” Y/n turned to her friends. 

“This guy is already giving me stress with his fucking actual barks.” She said. They laughed and turned back to see the rest of the announcements. Semi took back the microphone. 

“Next, we have another concert here in two days from now cause we sold the fuck out!! Tickets will be sold starting now in the back and on our website!” The fans began to cheer again super loud. 

“And lastly, but certainly not least. Y/n! Where are you Babe?” He asked into the microphone. He looked till he saw her wave at him. “Ah there you are! I have a question for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Y/n’s friends began to freak out. “These last five years have been fucking amazing babe. Will you marry me?” The crowd began to go wild. 

Y/n cupped her hands around her mouth, she already was not sober, but not quite drunk. 

“FUCK YEAH SEMI EITA I’LL MARRY YOU I LOVE YOU MOTHER FUCKER WOAHHH” 

The crowd had some laughs and chearring go on as the band went back to the show. 

Before they knew it the show was over and the girls were all headed backstage to go to the “after party” at Y/n and Semi’s house. Y/n ran as soon as she saw Semi. She tackled him in a huge hug as he began to laugh. 

“HOLY SHIT I LOVE YOU EITA!” She yelled kissing his face multiple times. 

“I love you too Y/n. Now come on let’s go back to the house.” 

The box was collected from the front of the room as it was moved to the band's van. Semi and the four girls climbed into his car, all intoxicated at this point. 

When they pulled up to the house everyone piled out of both cars. Matsukawa grabbed the fan box and carried it inside. They all opened a bottle of something as y/n sat down on the couch with the box in front of her. 

“Alright, let’s see what we got tonight guys.” She reached in and pulled out a semi large box. She opened it with clear caution. “Oh, Matsukawa you got another dildo.” 

“Ooo what color is this one?” 

“Pink and oH GOSH IT'S USED.” She tossed the box onto the table. “Moving on,” She dug through the box for quite some time until she got down to the letters. She pulled one out with a pink envelope. It smelled like Yukie’s perfume when she opened it. She glanced over to Yukie but she was too busy staring down Kuroo at the time to notice. 

“Alright let’s see what this one says.” She began to read the letter to herself as her eyes grew large. 

“What’s wrong Y/n?” Semi spoke up. The room grew quiet. Everyone was now looking towards Y/n. 

“Well, Kuroo I think you may have a creepy fan. And you may want to move.” 

“What why?” He asked as he walked over to her. She passed him pictures of his bedroom floor and his underpants laying around. “What the fuck?? This is my apartment??” 

“It says here that they have been inside a few times and uh here.” She passed him the last picture which was him sleeping through the window in nothing but his boxers. 

“Holy fuck. Let me read this.” He said. 

“Are you sure?” She asked. He shook his head as he took it. She watched his face grow more disturbed.  

“Holy shit. Can I stay here for a few nights?” He asked Semi as he agreed now reading the letter. 

It was the last line that stuck out the most to them all;  

Don’t try to run from me either or you will regret it, just like Daichi. 

Love,

Your Secret Admirer.

______________________________________________________________

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Taglist: @satan-ruler-of-hells @elianetsantana @elephantloser @putmeinyourdeathnote @levithansbabygirl @megumitodoroki @idontknow-whatto-callthis @jellyfishsart @freakydeaky226 @atria-avior @doodletingz​ @kac-chowsballs @twistedvalkyrie @ranu-chan @noahmanz

#haikyuu horror #tw stalking #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu horror smau #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #semi x you #semi smau #kuroo smau #haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu

[chiwhorei]

rings

pairing: a. azumane x fem!punk!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 1.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, oral (male receiving), reader has piercings

a/n: woof, this one got a little out of hand and might not be that great, but asahi deserves more content damnit. anyway, day 2 is coming out late but it’s still oct. 2 so i am taking that as a win.

hymn: end up here by 5sos okay i’m not sorry

kinktober 2020 - piercings

“Suga. Who the fuck is that?” You throw your hand to the gray-haired man’s chest and he scoffs at the dramatics. “That’s a friend of mine and Daichi’s. He’s kinda shy so don’t scare him. He’s not used to you like the rest of us are.”

“Scare him?” You scoff, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hands, “I’m going to eat him alive.”

The rhythmic thumping of music mixes with Asahi’s unsteady heartbeat. His large hand in yours shaking slighting from the buzz of adrenaline. Stone sober in a sea of drunken, sweaty bodies but Asahi feels the most intoxicated he’s ever been.

He can’t remember how the night’s events took this turn. You two had been suffocating in sexual tension for hours, inching your bodies closer together. Every sparring look or fleeting touch pulled him in until Suga looked at you over the rim of his red solo cup.

“Jesus, can you two get a room?”

Asahi tried to laugh off his friend's intonation, as you had just met, but you simply stood from your spot next to him and held out your hand. He’s never been one to act so reckless, but something about you made him follow. Was it the way your laugh could pull his attention from a wildfire? Was it your head rolling to the side and resting on his shoulder like you had known each other for years?

Or was it the shiny, silver lip ring you pull between your teeth?

You walk in front with a kind of confidence that is both welcoming and eclipsing, leading him through a maze of hallways as he stumbles to keep up. You seem to contemplate every door before stopping in your tracks, turning around in a flash to pull him inside an empty bedroom.

“Finally,” you groan in relief, “it was getting a little crowded out there, don’t you think?” The tone of your voice is sticky around the edges, dripping past your lips as you stroll towards him. Asahi’s back presses against the closed door, trapped between it and your body. You lift up to your toes to meet his face as best you can, snaking your hands around his neck to pull him down. With a tall, muscular frame and rough features, anyone would assume that Asahi is the predator. They would be sorely mistaken. In this little dance, he is your prey.

Your face inches towards his, the scent of cherry chapstick and minty gum filling the closing space between lips. Since you came into view earlier in the night, Asahi has only been able to think of the cool metal pierced in your lip against his own.

“Do you like what you see, Azumane?” you flick the lip ring with the tip of your tongue, eliciting a whimper from the brunette. As your mouth curls around his family name, he sees the tiny silver ball in the middle of your tongue.

“I, um, Asahi, call me Asahi.” He tries to steady himself but all reason is escaping him. You’re so close now, he can practically taste you. He can’t help the begging in his eyes, he needs you to do something, anything.

Leaning into his toned chest, breasts pressed to his muscle, he thinks that you are finally going to kiss him. But you’re not done having your fun.

You take his quivering bottom lip between your teeth and tug lightly with a devious growl before pulling him down to you by his hair. His lips work on their own, needing to kiss you like it’s air to breathe. Needing to feel the cool metal dangling in front of him like a carrot on a string.

His hands find purchase at your hips, legs feeling weaker as moments pass and lust consumes him. Your tongue drags across his, the ring in your mouth a new, welcome sensation.

“You’re an eager one, huh? I like it.” You pull your handsome new friend to the awaiting bed, sitting him down on the edge and wasting no time crawling on top of his built thighs.

You meet his lips again, and this time Asahi is far less careful. He’s drunk off of your energy, bathing in the feeling you’re giving him. His hands explore your body, gripping your ass with hardened resolve when you squeal in pleasure. Asahi feels the silver ring pressing against his hot neck as open mouth kisses trail down to his collarbone.

You lean back in his hold, strong hands keeping you balanced while your fingers find the hem of your shirt. Asahi watches dumbly as you peel off your shirt to expose a sweet, pink bra.

The delicate lace on the cups is gorgeous on your skin, breasts pressed high at the top of the fabric. Asahi marvels at how beautiful you are above him, angelic almost. That is, until you rid yourself of the offending article and a devilish surprise is waiting for him in the form of two metal bars. He can feel himself salivating, calloused digits wandering up to palm your tits. Your back arches at his administrations, spurring him to roll a pert, sensitive nipple between his fingers, eyes flicking up to take in your reaction. Your head falls back at the sensation, bringing your hips to grind down harshly on his crotch.

The feeling of his clothed cock at your pussy is what you had been craving since Suga introduced you two at the beginning of the night, but you want more. Asahi seems keenly interested in your pierced tongue twisting with his. It’s high time you show him exactly what your mouth can do.

Your feet scramble for purchase on the hardwood only to drop to your knees in front of Asahi’s parted legs. You run your hands across his thighs, tracing the muscles up to where his hard on is straining against the denim.

“Y-you don’t have to do that. I’m okay with just-” He’s well aware of how desperate he sounds, hips bucking to meet your palm.

“Do you want me to stop?” You quirk an eyebrow, deft fingers tracing his zipper and punching down his boxers. No, the answer is, and always will be, no. He never wants you to stop. Conceding, he nods for you to continue, no longer trusting his own voice and you pop open his jeans. Your hand is slightly cold on his cock, and the feeling of your skin on his thick shaft makes him fist the sheets below him desperately.

His size is impressive, heavy in your hand and long. You run your hand up and down lightly, smirking when his hips raise to meet the slow pump of your hand. Soft, wet lips meet his head and a moan rips from deep within his throat. You take his cock in slowly, watching his expression as you sink down and trace your tongue around the vein at the base. The party is still in full swing ten feet away, the pounding bass vibrating around both of you, but all Asahi knows at this point is your tongue ring swirling around his cock.

Your mouth is hot on his aching dick, lewd slurping and gagging rings in his ears and pushes him farther into a foggy bliss. He doesn’t realize that his hand has a hold of your hair until your groaning around him. It’s all so salacious, having you in between his legs after being complete strangers only a few hours ago. The way your pierced lip is pressed snugly around his cock, the feeling of the metal bar in your tongue caressing him.

“Wait, please.” His voice is pathetic in his ears as he pulls you off of him, “I don’t want to cum yet, please just.. kiss me.” He’s begging but he can’t get himself to care. You wipe your mouth off on the back of your hand and let Asahi pull you back into his lap. He pulls your face back to his. Every moment in life feels a certain type of meaningless now that he knows how you feel.

“Don’t worry. We’re not nearly finished. I still have one more piercing to show you.”

Taglist: @stupid-for-passion @thirsthourdemon @bakubae-boom

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#saint dymphna’s kinktober #kinktober 2020 #asahi azumane #asahi x reader #haikyuu x reader #asahi smut

[hexpea]

Ch. 18 - Alone

You lied awake for what seemed like hours with racing thoughts. You wondered how Choso was taking the news, worried for his well-being. You still wondered if he was being serious about what he said.  You spent the morning as you readied for the day calling and texting him to no avail. You knew he had his phone. It was more than likely that it was charged. He's purposefully ignoring me... you thought.

The real question was "what do I do the day after my step-brother dies?" You weren't sure if you needed to show up at the hospital. You had no idea of any funeral plans. You were caught in this strange state of limbo and despair.  You decided then to begin packing as it was the only thing you could do to occupy your time. You had also realized that Akira was an option after originally thinking you'd need to do this on your own. She didn't hesitate to text back when you asked her. Anything to get out of this house...

It didn't take long for a few days to pass by. You had settled into the third bedroom of the apartment you now shared with Akira and her roommate, another girl named Utahime. Your mother was glad you were adjusting okay and often shared the chaos that had started going on back at home since Noritoshi let his estranged son back in the house. There were allegedly a few angry incidents between Choso and his father where the authorities needed to be called. Eventually Choso packed his own things up and left permanently, his whereabouts unknown though you knew it was likely he was just at the Gojo's.

The next time you were able to see him was for the wake back at the house. He was slunked in the corner in a black suit. He held a glass of whiskey and was very visibly high off his ass. You felt nervous to approach him, but knew it had to be done.  The rest of the room spoke lowly out of respect, nearly every guest in some shade of black. Your mind still couldn't wrap around the idea that the little, green-haired punk was gone - the boy you thought of as an annoying little brother though only for a short while.

Choso's head hung low as he leaned against the wall in the corner. He hadn't moved for what seemed like a long time. Now that you were close, you really could see just how clammy his skin looked. The bags under his eyes were a dark shade of purple, almost even darker than when you had first met. His eyes themselves were bloodshot, pupils small as can be, and trying hard to keep focused.

"Choso..." you said lowly, his name melting like butter on your tongue. You had missed saying it, strangely enough.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a slow, crooked smile. "Long time, no see."

"It's only been a few days," you muttered, and looked away from him for a moment "how are you doing?"

"Fabulously," he tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. "I bet I'm next," he pressed his thumb to his chest with a jolly tone. "Whether Daddy dearest does it for me or I do it." He chuckled as you gave him a grotesque expression.

"Don't speak like that," you scolded. You had to resist the urge to slap him right then and there. "How much have you taken today?"

"What?" He asked stupidly. You didn't dare repeat yourself. You knew that he understood.

"He hasn't been sober since the day Kechizu died," Satoru walked up to you, Geto and Shoko behind him with somber expressions. "He's only taken one at a time since I've been monitoring him. As soon as it starts to wear off, he takes another."

"Why aren't you stopping him? Aren't you supposed to be his friends?" You looked at each one of them. Geto and Shoko refused eye contact while Satoru just sighed.

"I'm not going to stop him," Satoru explained with an annoyed tone as if he knew what he was doing was wrong, "he's lost so many brothers at this point. I don't think he can mentally take much more. If this keeps him happy and here, I have to allow it."

"He can still die," you nearly interrupted the end of his sentence, "fentanyl is easy to die on. I'm surprised he hasn't yet."

"I know," Satoru choked on his words a bit before walking away, leaving you with a swaying Choso who was trying not to miss his mouth with his glass.

"So you've been staying with Satoru," you tried to continue the conversation, feeling that talking to him would help sober him up.

"Yep," his mouth popped on the letter P. His grin curled up at its edges which made you shutter. Your body filled with painful sympathy as you watched him struggle to stay conscious.

"I miss you," you dared to utter despite your frustration toward him. He blinked hard at your sentence.

"Don't," he stood up a bit more straight, "don't you say that."

"Why not?" You crossed your arms and leaned on one leg. "I love you. I'm going to miss you...even if you're being an asshole."

"You don't love me," Choso shook his head, struggling to maintain that straightened posture. "Where's Mahito?"

"He's not here...I...broke up with him officially the day after Kechizu died." This was a lie. You hadn't been in contact with Mahito very much as he wanted to give you space to mourn. You also hadn't told Mahito that you knew he was a cheater, the idea of that baffling you after he swore he was head over heels for you. That was a discussion that had to wait. You said this because you wanted to see how Choso would react, but it wasn't up to your expectations.

"That was dumb," he scoffed. You narrowed your eyes at him out of continued annoyance.

"You know, I don't think you were lying when you said you loved me, even though you said it was a lie. And if you still want me...I'm staying at Akira's," you sighed sadly and began to walk away.

"It was a lie," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. The pain struck you like a knife.

Time continued to pass and you hadn't heard from Choso for weeks. The fall and final semester of your academic career had arrived and you were well into the beginning of your studies. From what you understood after reaching out to Satoru was that he was just doing the same routine each day. He wallowed in sadness, high out of his mind. He had also withdrawn from his studies, no longer attending university despite being so close to the end. It made you choke up...the thought of him...but you couldn't let it. Things carried on somewhat normally though the house felt more empty without Kechizu when you'd visit. You figured that Eso probably felt weird, and possibly in danger, being the only son left in the house.

While you had made it a goal to keep Choso out of your mind, as time went on it became increasingly difficult. You figured that you were annoying Satoru, begging for so many updates though they were all the same. You determined that a visit was in order. If anything, you wanted him to reenroll in his studies so he could accomplish his goal.

You stood outside of the Gojo household. You wore a light jacket seeing as September had arrived, bringing a slight chill to the weather. You were hesitant but still knocked on the large door.

"Hey, Y/N," Satoru answered with a slight smile, "are you here for you know who?" You nodded as his expression changed. "I think he's sleeping...I haven't heard from him in a bit, but you can come in. He's been staying in the den." He motioned toward the room with a closed door before going about his own routine.

"Thanks," you answered him before walking to the door. You took a deep breath to calm any nerves. You knocked on the door but received no response. Instead of turning away, you took the reins and opened the door.

Choso was sitting on the edge of the sofa with his head facing the ground. His body was swaying back and forth, the glow on the television the only thing illuminating him - not to mention the TV was only static, no connection whatsoever. He was making a low moaning sound which caused you to worry. You quickly sat down beside him and lifted his chin to face you. His eyes were barely open, irises rolling about and unable to focus.

"How many of these did you have?" You grabbed the bottle from the end table, reaching over his limp body. There was no way for you to know, however his demeanor told you that he took multiple.

"Two," he somehow managed to get out before bubbling into laughter, holding up four fingers as his neck rolled backward - his body struggling to stay conscious. Eventually, his top heavy body fell onto your chest - his head landing on your breasts. His body pressure had also forced you against the cushion.

You sighed and slightly adjusted yourself so that you were properly sitting. Choso also adjusted his body, slowly curling until he was against you. You carefully wrapped your arms around him.  You noticed how warm his body was, a slight sheen on any exposed skin. It pained you to see him in such a state, his muscles tensing every few minutes as his body burned off the toxin.  You rested your chin on his head, feeling his breathing from under your grasp.

It didn't take very long for you to fall asleep, head rolling onto the back cushion while still holding Choso who had also fallen asleep. You had wanted to stay up just to make sure he was okay, but you couldn't help how exhausted you were from everything that was going down.

It was about a two hour nap before you woke up. You stretched out your body, feeling Choso's heavy weight across your lap. His head had fallen there.

"Wake up, Choso," you shook him slightly, your body still a bit fatigued from just waking up. "Choso..." you repeated when he didn't respond. He didn't even stir. You paused for a moment only to realize that his breathing had stopped. "Fuck..." you began panicking, "Shit! Satoru!!!" You began screaming, jumping from the sofa and resting Choso's limp body against the couch.

His skin was incredibly pale, his lips a light shade of blue. Eventually he took a breath. It filled his chest cavity deeply and a rattling sound came from far within. He didn't breath for another good twenty seconds, the same rattling sound coming out.

"What's going on?!" Satoru burst into the room and immediately laid eyes on his overdosing friend. "Shit..." he hissed, darting to his friend and shaking him roughly. He didn't stir and another noisy breath came out.

Satoru left him be for just a moment, rushing out of the room and returning with a strange looking bottle. He held it underneath Choso's nostrils, using one hand to close one of them and the other to squeeze the bottle.

"C'mon, man..." he silently encouraged as you stood there frozen. "Call an ambulance, will ya'?" He asked with a slightly angry tone.

"Right!" You snapped out of your trance and pulled out your cell phone. You gave all of the necessary information through shaky breaths. Satoru tried to spray more of the medication into Choso's nose but he still wasn't coming to. "They're coming." You said quickly, rushing to Choso's side as Gojo continued his attempts.

"Hnn..." Choso finally made a noise though his eyes weren't opening. His breathing began to return to a more frequent pace, the rattling stopping.

"That's it, c'mon..." Satoru continued encouraging as you took Choso's hand in yours and began squeezing tight.

"The...fuck..." Choso tried to sit up but his friend quickly pushed him back down and told him to rest. As he got the words out, he went into a coughing fit - getting out all of the phlegm that caused the death rattle a few moments earlier.

"Are you alright?" You fell to his side, kneeling on the floor next to the sofa. "How many did you take?" You asked this again, now not believing his original answer.

"Two," he groaned, putting a hand to his forehead as Satoru answered the door for the paramedics. "times two." He smirked through the pain, indicating four on his hand that was draped over his brow.

"Jesus, Choso..." you whispered through the pain in your throat. "You were trying to do this on purpose weren't you?" He stayed silent, sloppy smile fading as he removed his arm.

The paramedics had rushed in at this point which stopped your conversation. You hesitantly backed away from him, getting to your feet and watching as the medics took vitals and whatnot. Considering the naloxone wasn't something that guaranteed long-term help, the medics loaded him into the ambulance and dragged him to the ER despite his protests. The medics had given you the hospital information so you could travel there after the fact.

You quickly went to the train station, leaving Satoru behind as he knew he could trust you with Choso. The train ride seemed so much longer than it actually was thanks to your impatience.  When you arrived and finally found the room, you pulled back the curtain to see him casually sitting on his phone hooked up to an IV as if he wasn't nearly dead almost an hour ago. He looked up at you. You were expecting his usual cocky smile, but instead he gave you a tight frown.

"You need to leave."

#choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso x you #choso smut #choso fluff #choso lemon #choso kamo #kamo choso #jjk #jujutsu kaisen