#but hes built like a mini tank

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 2

Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, car sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, light nipple play, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), cock riding, rough sex, creampie, joel once again being irresistible and disgustingly sweet, light sprinkle of fluff, porn with no plot (kinda) A/N: I have zero self-restraint and couldn't stop thinking about mechanic!joel soo... you could say, it was so nice she had to come twice ;)

PART 1 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

It wasn’t like you were actually planning on pulling off the highway to head toward that mechanic shop… except you totally were. Summer came and went, and after a few months spent in Tallahassee, it was time to go home. You weren’t in a rush this time, though, so you could afford a quick pit stop at a small mechanic shop. Nothing needed to be fixed in your car, but maybe you’d pop a screw loose just for the hell of it.

Pulling into the familiar garage, your heart thumped in your ears as you threw the car in park and nearly ran inside. The waiting room was disappointingly empty minus a handsome man standing behind the counter…one that wasn’t Joel.

His black curls were slicked back, and with just a white tank top and flannel on, you could tell he was built just like Joel. At your sudden entrance, he glanced your way, giving the cigarette in his hand a quick flick over the ashtray on the counter he leaned on.

“Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” He asked. He had that same drawl in his voice as Joel did.

Taming down your flyaways from the humidity, you walked over to the counter with a friendly smile. You didn’t miss how his eyes did a once-over on your body.

“I was just coming through town, thought I’d stop in to say hi to Joel,” you explained.

He took another drag of his cigarette, the cherry burning at the bottom. After a long inhale, he puffed out an air of smoke, filling the space with that stinging smell of nicotine. You weren’t completely opposed to the smell, and you most definitely appreciated him blowing it to the side so that it didn’t creep up into your nose.

“Joel’s just up at the mini-mart grabbin’ some beers. M’sure he’ll be back soon,” he shrugged. “I’m Tommy by the way, his brother.”

He extended his free hand, and you met him halfway to give him a friendly handshake, introducing yourself as well. Tommy donned that same lopsided grin as Joel; it must be that Southern charm and hospitality.

“So,” he drawled. “How y’know my brother?”

You shifted your weight between legs, trying to come up with some stupid lie to explain how you did know him. Short answer: he fixed your car. Long answer: he gave you the best orgasms of your life. 

“I, uh, came through town a few months ago to get my car fixed, and—.”

“Hey, Tommy! Come help me with the beers, man!” A voice shouted from the side door.

Tommy gave you an apologetic grin, rounding the corner to meet his brother outside. You leaned against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you waited for them to reemerge. Tommy was walking back through the door moments later, a six-pack of beers in hand and Joel in tow. 

“C’mon man, I told you no smokin’ in the damn shop,” Joel grumbled, smacking the back of Tommy’s head.

Tommy only laughed at his brother's annoyance, walking around the counter to give Joel a clear view of you standing there. As his eyes set on you, Joel stopped in his tracks, a wild grin splitting across his face.

“Well, would y’look at that,” he beamed. “If it ain’t my favorite customer.”

A warmth crept up your skin, your cheeks blushing at his words. He approached you, leaning against the counter to mimic your stance. He still wore that worn-down black t-shirt, the fabric thinned out and stretching over his muscles. You wondered how long those scratches stayed on the skin of his back after you both…

“Ohhhh,” Tommy interrupted, forcing your eyes to tear away from Joel’s. “You’re the girl that’s got my brother out $500!”

Snapping your head back to Joel, you smacked his bicep in embarrassment.

“You told him?!” You shrieked.

Joel doubled over in laughter, clutching the arm you had just whacked.

“Calm down, darlin’. I ain’t ever think I’d see you again! S’all in good fun.”

You buried your face in your hands, letting out a small groan. Of course, he’d tell his fucking brother about you; the girl that didn’t have any fucking money for a car and slept her way out of the debt. You could bet Tommy probably didn’t believe Joel when he told him the story, either.

“Aw, c’mon now babydoll,” Joel crooned, peeling your hands away from your face. “I ain’t meant no harm in tellin’ the story.”

“He hasn’t told another soul,” Tommy said. You glanced over to see him raise a hand in defense. “Scouts honor.”

You smack Joel again for good measure, eliciting a howling laugh from Tommy on the other side of the counter. 

“Tommy, I’ll close up the shop tonight,” Joel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Why don’t you head out and grab Sarah for me? M’sure I’ll be back in time for the game.”

“Fuckin’ better be,” Tommy tossed back. “Ain’t tryna lose my money to you again.”

“Seems like he needs that money,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.

This time Joel shoved at you playfully, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest. 

“Now she’s got jokes!” He teased. 

“Ha ha very funny,” Tommy said, scooping up the six-pack into his arms. “Nice meetin’ ya miss. Don’t run up your tab too high while you’re here.”

Tommy was just as good with the jabs as you were, so you threw him a quick smile and wave before he slid out the back door and disappeared. With only Joel and you left, that nervous feeling crept back in. 

“Got another tire blown out or did y’miss me?” Joel teased.

“Don’t let your ego get too big, cowboy,” you said. “I’m just rollin’ back through town.”

“Pretty sure I’m big everywhere, babydoll, but y’already know that.”

Joel took a step towards you, twisting a strand of your hair through his fingers. You could see the midday sun reflecting in his brown eyes, making them sparkle the longer he stared. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, that pouty bottom one quipped up into a slight grin. 

“You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You laughed.

“Sure enough to know that pretty pussy is just soakin’ your underwear right now,” he drawled. 

He grabbed your hips, pinning you to his chest with an arm braced around your back. Dipping his hand between your bodies, he slid a finger over the seam of your zipper, teasing your already throbbing clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-like touch of his finger, your body aching for him.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he whispered in your ear.

Your breath hitched as he popped open the button on your jeans and tugged down the zipper. Slipping two fingers between your skin and underwear, he drew lazy circles over your clit, watching you with rapt attention as you tried to stifle a moan.

“Mhmm,” he crooned. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout this pussy ever since you left town, darlin’.”

“Yeah?” you exhaled, rolling your hips against his fingers as they worked faster.

“Ain’t ever had my cock so wet.” Joel pressed a kiss against your neck as his fingers slid between your wet folds and teased your entrance. 

“Christ, Joel,” you exhaled. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

Joel glanced around the empty waiting room and shrugged.

“No one’s here, darlin’.”

“Your shop windows are glass,” you argued. “Anyone can see us if they drive by.”

Teasing your wet folds, Joel slid a finger inside you, slowly curling it in an attempt to shut you up—which did work, unfortunately. You leaned into his broad chest, your head resting on his sternum as he continued the movement in slow strokes. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“What, babydoll?” He asked innocently as if he didn’t fucking know what he was doing to you.

“Take me to the garage,” you breathed. “Please.”

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, darlin’.”

Pulling his hand out of your jeans, Joel bent to scoop you up, drawing your legs around his waist to carry you out of the waiting room. You wound your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to kiss along the stubble of his jawline. His hands squeezed your ass as he walked you both through the door to the garage, situating himself at the workbench. Still positioned in his lap, you wasted no time and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming up and down your body as you devoured one another. 

“Jesus, babydoll. Y’really did miss me, huh?” he muttered against your open mouth.

“Maybe I did, cowboy.”

Grinding your hips on his lap, you felt the strain of his cock beneath the worn-out fabric of his work jeans. Joel nipped at your bottom lip, groaning as you circled your hips harder. 

“Easy now, darlin’,” he warned. “Don’t wanna ruin my jeans like some middle school boy.”

You laughed and doubled down on your movements against his cock, each drag of your body forcing him to tense up. Joel’s hand came up to cup your breast through your bra, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper. 

“Y’gonna be a good girl for me, babydoll?” he questioned.

You snuck a glance at his face, seeing his pupils blown wide with lust. Nodding quietly, you stilled your movements and focused on the feel of his fingers pinching your hardened nipple through the fabric. Your jaw went slack as he toyed with you, coaxing humiliating sounds from your lips with each twist.

“Hmm,” he mused, leveling you with a dangerous stare. “That's how I get you to behave, huh?”

“Joel,” you whined breathlessly. 

“Use your words, babydoll.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.

“Where’s those manners, darlin’?” he taunted.

Giving him the biggest pouty face you could muster, you pushed your bottom lip out and sealed the deal by batting your eyelashes at him.

“Please, cowboy?” 

Joel rolled his eyes and chuckled, bringing his hand down on your ass to deliver a sharp slap. Hoisting you back up, Joel spun your body back against the wall of the garage, shoving your shirt up as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time in dragging down your bra, ravishing your skin with kisses and bites, leaving a trail of marks down your breast and sternum. You ran your hands through his curls, feeling the humidity of the air dampen them the longer you both stayed in the garage. Neither of you seemed to mind, though; you were so wrapped up in each other there was no telling of what was happening in the outside world. 

He took your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly and rewarding your behavior with another trail of kisses back up your chest and neck. He mumbled a slew of curses under his breath as you mewled against his touch, his mouth hot against the underside of your jaw.

“Quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” you teased. 

“Y’already know what this mouth can do, darlin’. Don’t tempt me.”

“Why don’t you remind me?” you asked, a smug grin teasing your lips.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he groaned.

Setting you back down on your feet, Joel nodded towards his black truck, silently instructing you to move. With the truck bed already down, you did a little hop and shimmy onto it, settling back against the warm metal. Joel grabbed a clean towel off his workbench and stalked towards you with a devilish grin.

“Afraid to get your truck messy?” You smirked.

“I already know you’re gonna have the entire bed of it soaked in damn near a minute,” he responded.

Letting impatience get the best of you, you worked yourself out of your jeans and underwear, slingshotting it directly at Joel’s chest as he neared the edge of the truck. Catching it with one hand, he pocketed the black lace effortlessly, offering you the towel to situate yourself onto. Sliding your body into the towel, you dropped your legs open, giving Joel a perfect view to ogle at.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” You giggled, trailing your fingers down your abdomen and towards the wetness between your thighs. 

“Damn right I do, darlin’.”

Joel pressed up against the truck bed, bending over to kiss down your stomach where your hand laid against your aching clit. He brushed his lips over your fingers before drawing them into his mouth, sucking on them gently. Your breath hitched as your eyes connected, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Joel pulled your fingers from his mouth and guided your hand through his hair.

“Give them curls a tug if y’need it, darlin’.”

Then his mouth was on you. Devouring you. Lapping at you. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves through your body, your veins coursing with an indescribable need to explode. Joel didn’t let up for a single second, his tongue and jaw working at you until your thighs quaked around his neck. He was pushing you closer and closer until that coil inside your stomach was ready to snap. You cried out as he flattened his tongue against your clit, putting pressure at just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Right there… oh my God, Joel,” you whispered, panting as you felt that build-up in your body begin.

With another long draw of his tongue and the brush of his nose against the sensitive bud of your clit, that coil snapped. Hot, warm liquid gushed out of you, covering the entirety of his open mouth and chin. Joel groaned as he continued lapping at you, the disgusting sound of your wet cunt drowning out the heartbeat thudding in your ears. Aftershocks of your orgasm coursed through you, your body pulsing with pleasure with each press of his mouth against you.

You tugged at his curls as he instructed, and Joel lifted his face to reveal what a dripping mess he had become. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of his hooded eyes and wild smile; the look of sheer bliss painting his features. Exhaling, you sagged against the metal of the truck, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain some semblance of control.

“God, I sure did miss this pussy,” Joel hummed, nudging his nose against your dripping cunt. 

You squirmed against his face, too afraid another orgasm would surge through you and drench him again—which he obviously wouldn’t be opposed to. But you needed his cock buried inside you, now.

“Joel, climb up here,” you said, patting the metal beside you.

“What if I ain’t ready yet?” he argued, kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Joel,” you demanded.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Don’t get all impatient on me now, darlin’.”

Hauling himself onto the truck bed, he crawled over your limp body, kissing up the side of your neck. Using what little strength you had left, you maneuvered yourself over him, flipping you both until you straddled his lap. Joel’s hands came up to your bare hips, his thick fingers squeezing and kneading the supple flesh as you rolled against his hardened cock.

“Gonna let me ride you, cowboy?” You asked.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back. “Boutta be the best ride of my goddamn life.”

Giving him a wink, you hurried to undo his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring free. Christ, you forgot how big it was. Joel chuckled at the way you stalled a moment, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you moving.

“Calm down, cowboy,” you warned. “I’m gettin’ there.”

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you positioned it at your entrance, slowly sinking down until your clit brushed against the curls at the base. Even dripping wet, you were forced to stretch around him, the fullness leaving you breathless for a moment. 

“Y’look so pretty like that, babydoll. S’fuckin full of me,” Joel hummed.

You whimpered at his words, moving your hips up and down finding the right tempo that sent you both into oblivion. The press of your knees against the metal wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but you could ignore it so long as he enjoyed himself. You picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down as you forced his cock deeper inside you. Joel’s jaw went slack as he watched you, enraptured with the way you moved above him. Your bodies slapped together with each drop of your hips, and his fingers flexed against your waist as he pushed and pulled your body until you were grinding against him. 

“There ya’ go, babydoll,” Joel murmured. “Feel how deep I am?”

You only gave him a pathetic moan, letting his hands guide your body as you pulsed around his cock. You were so fucking full, the tip of his cock spearing up into you with each drag of your hips. Snaking a hand down your body, your fingers found your clit, drawing desperate circles as you tried to chase the orgasm threading through your muscles. 

“Fuck,” Joel groaned. “You’re just desperate to cum again, huh?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whined, putting more pressure on your clit as he drove himself deeper.

“S’fuckin’ pretty like that,” Joel exhaled. “Gonna drench me again, huh? Let’s see it, babydoll, cover me with it.”

Your mouth opened with a soundless cry, your cunt flexing around his cock as another orgasm ruptured through you, soaking your thighs and seeping into his jeans. Hauling you down against his chest, Joel positioned his knees upward, pistoning his hips against yours at a violent pace. 

“Fuck!!” You sobbed as more liquid gushed out of you, the strength of your orgasm amplified at this angle.

“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, c’mon,” Joel praised, his lips pressed against your ear. “Keep goin’, babydoll. I know y’can give me more.”

“I—I can’t!” You stammered.

Your orgasm wouldn’t let up, though. Joel’s cock drove into you with such force, that you continued soaking him over and over again despite your wailing protests. Joel continued praising you and talking you through each ripple of your orgasm, hushing you as you cried harder. 

“Just like that, babydoll. Shh… Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Joel kept a brutal pace, wrecking into you as he chased his own release. His hips snapped up one final time before he was spilling into you with a choked groan falling from his lips. 

Falling limp against his body, you stared at the sides of the truck bed with glazed eyes. Tremors still wracked through your body as you settled into his embrace, his hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulders. Craning his head to the side, Joel captured your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue dancing over yours slow and sweet. 

“Doin’ alright, babydoll?” he asked, breaking away from your lips.

You nodded mindlessly, too blissed out to form words. Nestled into his body, you let your fingers wander up his bicep and over his shoulder. Joel placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head, his muffled words lost in your hair.

“Hmm?” You asked.

“S’nothing,” he whispered. “Just enjoyed the ride, that’s all.”

You rested your head on his sternum, giving him a questioning look. 

“Sounded like you said something else,” you said, cocking a brow.

Joel huffed a laugh, his head falling back against the metal with a soft thud.

“I don’t know, darlin’. Guess I kinda like you.”

“Guess I kinda like you too, cowboy.”

Rolling off of him, you situated yourself against the side of the truck bed, resting your legs over his stomach. Joel’s hand kneaded into the tight muscles of your calves, working at the knots in your legs. His head leaned to the side to catch a glimpse at you, a smile breaking across his face.

“How long are y’staying in town?” he asked.

“I was only passing through,” you sighed.

His smile faltered a moment, that glimmer of hope flickering out in his eyes. Suddenly, the thought of leaving didn’t sound so nice.

“Why don’t y’stay the night?” he offered. “Got myself a big enough bed to sleep in, babydoll.”

“How much is it gonna cost me?” You teased, rubbing your foot over the softest part of his lower stomach.

“I’m thinkin’ a good blowjob,” he mused.

“Whatever you want, cowboy. Count me in.”

You spent a few moments in harmonious silence, basking in the circumstances’ simplicity. After a while, you found yourself climbing off the truck in search of your jeans and underwear. Joel worked his way down, too, stuffing his cock back into his pants and gathering the damp towel off the truck bed.

“You still have my underwear,” you grumbled, shaking out your jeans to slide into.

“And I’m gonna keep ‘em, darlin’,” Joel said, grabbing you by the waist to reel you in for a kiss. “Need me a lil’ souvenir.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled.

Foregoing underwear, you stuffed yourself back into your jeans and followed Joel to the passenger side of the truck, where he had the door already propped open for you. Helping you in, he reached over to secure your seatbelt, kissing your cheek softly before shutting the door and walking to the driver's side.

Turning the key in the ignition, Joel glanced over at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair and rosy cheeks. 

“Y’sure are beautiful, babydoll. Wish I could keep ya here,” he sighed.

You rested your chin in your hand, leaning over the center console. 

“I don’t know, cowboy. Your negotiating skills are pretty damn good. Might talk me into staying with all those sweet words.”

“Oh yeah?” he perked up. “Y’know you still got a hefty bill to pay off.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you agreed. “I might have to stay a while to settle that debt.”

Joel cracked a smile, lifting up the console to haul you closer to him. Backing out of the garage, he navigated the truck onto the main road and towards wherever home was for him. Settling into his side, your fingers danced over the zipper of his pants as you waged your brows at him.

“Think I should start paying off that debt now?” You asked.

“I ain’t arguing with that, babydoll,” Joel grinned.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #mechanic!joel #joel x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #one shot #joel miller pre-outbreak

[savkirschtein]

AOT character & their personal fashion styles

characters : Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, Marco Bodt

warning: all of these are just purely based off of my personal insight and views of the characters and how i think they’d dress today

🪩🥡🪐🎸🎧

Eren Jaeger: 🎱🌪️🩻⛓️

based off of season 4 Eren

i picture Eren in todays world really rocking with a minimalist street style

he’s all for comfort and breathability in his clothing and his style reflects that

a closet full of loose fitting boxy t-shirts

LOVES the cold months so he can layer his hoodies and leather jackets

while also sporting the slutty tightly fitted black shirt grey sweat pant combo every now and then

maybe even just walking out his apartment with a wife pleaser and baggy jeans on as a fit alone

all paired with sneakers, small silver hoops, and a chain of some sort

Mikasa Ackerman: 🍒💿📷🃏

we all know for a fact that Mikasa can DRESS

she just has an eye for fashion and has a unique style of her own

one that isn’t over the top, in terms of being a spectacle, but just well put together and tailored to HER. a girl you 110% give a second glance

she is a girlie who LOVES wearing any skirt whether it be long, midi, mini or knee length she LOVES them

most of her pieces are pretty free flowing with lots of different silhouettes

absolutely loves a good leather boot, pair of mary janes, or platform loafers

she literally could wear a trash bag and make it look like it’s the next trend

and has a huge collection of baggus

Armin Arlert: 🎧📘🍵☁️

Armin will literally never be free of the soft light academia aesthetic

the cable knit sweaters, soft cardigans, and sweater vests will forever have a hold on him

but what college boy Armin loves more than anything is a good quarter zip or quarter button up

or a nice casual white and blue striped button up

almost all of his clothing is soft and warm materials

definitely withholds the cute boy in the library title

Jean Kirschtein: 🪐👁️‍🗨️⚡️🌉

will live and die on the hill that Jean is a Carthartt guy

his look is a casual-relaxed but clean one

he’s all for clothing that is durable and will last him forever

Jean’s style is honestly super basic but NOT boring

although Jean’s style isn’t one that is made to make it hard to look away from its one that really just compliments him well

loves a good hefty Dickies or Carthartt jacket, basic white t-shirt, or a loose button up over a tank top

while wearing a variety of rings, with small hoops and a chain

his clothes compliment his strongly built and lengthy body well, which is why although they are basic, it isn’t boring

Connie Springer: 🎧💽☄️🩻

Connie is a literal fashionista

he probably is tiktok famous for his fit check videos and adventures at the thrift stores

the street style aesthetic was MADE for Connie

knows how to put pieces that may not look ideal together into a cohesive fit

LOVES JORTS and swears he made them trendy again

and wearing jerseys of teams he has no clue of , but it’s for the fit so who cares

Sasha Braus: 🍰🪩🗽🧸

the DEFINITION of downtown girl or coming of age movie in a city aesthetic

Sasha lives for the nostalgia of 90s pieces and it shows in her clothing

comfort is also a huge factor that plays into Sasha’s outfits

color is another component that makes Sasha’s outfits HER outfits

LOVES a good brown leather jacket

Sasha honestly though has a hard time sticking to just ONE specific style and will wear whatever feels good for her

Marco Bodt: 🍙🪴♠️🍊

Marco is a soft boy at heart but he’s traded in the traditional sweaters vests for hardy collared jackets

he absolutely LOVES PLAID

and loves layering his button ups with his worn out thrifted jackets

has a more warm palette in terms of colors and leans more towards earthy tones

super casual in his shoes though sticking to good tried and true high top converse, sambas, or loafers if he's feeling fancy

#eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #connie springer #jean kirstein #sasha braus #marco bodt #aot modern au #aot x reader #attack on titan headcanons #aot college au #Spotify

[robo-milky]

Of course whenever I promise something, I immediately work on a side thing and this is that… I give you crumbs of a Greaser AU! As fun as it would be to imagine everyone as greasers, I think it might make more sense or be interesting if I incorporate the different classes for different characters. I also think it’d be neat if I tweaked some things for a 60s vibe. Even now, Greaser! TWST still lives in my head rent free…

[Notes]

• I really wanted to give the Socs varsity jackets but noooo birthday union already has that, and I wanted this to be more “original” from the canon TWST outfits…

• C-Can you tell I was an “The Outsiders” kid???

• I did start this AU with thinking of Pomefiore first but I wanted to challenge myself and take it more seriously?? So I built up ADeuce. Still debating on what Grim’s role will be…

• Night Raven College is turned into a public school for the sake of this AU (but magic is still involved)

• For this particular AU, I envision Ace and Cloche to be childhood friends, comfortable enough to bicker (taking Grim’s place). How did Deuce get thrown into their little group? Cloche pitied Deuce and let him sit with her and Ace at lunch. Eventually, Ace got used to Deuce’ presence and started to help him out with fitting in with the other socs.

• Loved by the students and hated by the teachers? That’s Ace! With his brother being an alumni of Night Raven College, Ace didn’t have any troubles getting along with some of the older kids in the school. Of course his charisma and goofy personality isn’t something to be overlooked, either. Ace’ father wants him to get into an Ivy League Arcane Institution after high school, but Ace wants none of that. Sure, he could get good grades in school if he tried, but he has no interest. Maybe he should take his future seriously in a year or two, but for now, he just wants to have some fun.

• Deuce was never an official greaser during his middle school years, but more of an errand boy. …Don’t mind the fact he did get dragged into a couple of fights, has a half-used up tin of grease in the closet and his old leather jacket with recent rips. Look at the boy now and see how much he’s cleaned up over the years. Deuce’ tank tops evolved into button-ups, but he still feels uneasy with tight sleeves that cover his full arm. Deuce’ mom worked so hard to afford the school fees for Night Raven College, so he better pull his slack in turn,

• Cloche’ family owns a couple gas stations in Sage Island, allowing her easy access to cigarettes. Though she knows underage smoking (and smoking in general) is bad, she doesn’t care enough. With no allowance of her own, Cloche will gladly scrape however much she can get from willing customers who can pay up. Normally Cloche likes to stick her head out of conflicts between the different classes, but ever since she met a certain greaser— Cloche can’t help but carry a mini medkit at all times, in hopes to play his Nightingale.

#tbh Archie was used as a reference- #this is more of a fun side doodle thing #cat scratches 🌸 #oc: cloche🎊 #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst ocs #twst au #twisted wonderland au #greaser! twst #twst deuce #deuce spade #twst ace #ace trappola #twst fanart #twst art #twisted wonderland art #twisted wonderland fanart #adeuce #twst yuu #twst yuusona #yuusona

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

HIII, hi!

A lil mini request today!

What if MC had a Jellyfish Familiar?, but since it has to always be in a tank, they just wish they could find a way to always take it with them!

Seriously, how adorable would a Jellyfish familiar would be, look!

The Arcana Mini-HCs: MC with a jellyfish familiar

Julian: he loves marine life, and he's alarmingly chill with the idea of accidentally walking into a hovering jellyfish and getting stung

Asra: can and will give you a spell to make a little magic water balloon to float around next to you. will also make the water glittery

Nadia: will have a whole tank built along the wall of your room, if you promise to help her scare her sisters with it when they visit

Muriel: ... and where exactly are you going to find an ocean-like enclosure in the middle of the woods? (he'll build you one, dw)

Portia: keeps coming up with jelly-ish nicknames for it that are all food related. custard. jello. pudding. forbidden glass noodles - no?

Lucio: adores the fact that he can touch/poke/snuggle it with his metal arm without getting stung and gain Toughness Points for it

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[akaridream]

all the right buttons (college AU Goku & Vegeta x reader)

have y'all seen the figure from FuzzFeet Studios featuring our favorite boys gaming on the couch in the sluttiest little shorts? lemme say, i was feeling thirsty after I saw it for the first time. thus, this fic was born.

vegeta and goku both will get a part 2, choose your own adventure style (coming very soon!)

As you padded down the hall of Bulma’s apartment building, muffled male voices arguing rang through the walls. Your favorite chemistry study buddy had warned that her two roommates would be home while you did homework together, but you hoped the voices were from a neighboring unit. Your hopes were dashed when you stood in front of Bulma’s door and knocked, the voices now quite clear in the hallway.

“Hey! Pipe down you two! My friend is here and we need to get some work done!” Bulma’s voice interrupted. The door swung open with a whoosh, revealing the blue-haired bombshell. She rolled her eyes and shuffled you inside.

“Sorry about the boys, Goku found his old game system and they’ve been at it for a while,” she explained as you kicked off your shoes and dropped your backpack by the kitchenette table. “I was hoping they’d be wrapping it up by now but-”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” you said with a dismissive wave. “I grew up with two brothers, so they won’t bother me!"

Beyond the kitchen sat the infamous roommates, backs turned on the couch, facing a comically small CRT television in front of Bulma’s fancy flat screen. The tiny TV sat precariously on a mini fridge, and on the floor was the little gray console, one which you hadn’t seen in at least a decade. The chiptune soundtrack was nostalgic and familiar.

“Is that Tenkaichi Tournament 5?” you asked.

“Yeah!” came the chipper voice from the guy on the left, though his focus remained on the game. His black hair splayed in all directions and his blue tank barely covered his built shoulders.

Oh shit. These boys are fit, you thought.

The guy in blue’s arms were bulky and strong, intimidatingly so. And the blond guy was just as fine with a cut-up yellow racerback showing off the hard work he had put into his lats. With their backs turned, you shamelessly admired what you could see of them, salivating at the sight of their carved muscles.

Bulma elbowed you and lifted a brow, tilting her head in the direction of the guys. Your eyes grew large and you fanned your face, mouthing “Oh my god” to her. She grinned and nodded.

“This is my friend from chemistry I was telling you about!” Bulma yelled over the TV, hands on her hips.

The guy in blue paused their game and turned around, draping his arm over the back of the worn couch.

“Hi!” he said in a sweet voice, eyes bright and friendly behind a pair of black frames.

The blond gave him a dirty look for pausing the game. “Hello,” he offered over his shoulder.

“I’m Goku! Nice to meet you!” he said with a wave. “This is Vegeta. Sorry, he’s a little sour because he’s lost three rounds in a row!”

The blond scoffed. “I am not sour! You just keep spamming your super move and it’s fucking annoying!”

“Have you tried countering him with a block?” you asked. That got the blond’s full attention and he turned around to you with an incredulous expression.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

With a look at both of their faces, you weren’t sure who was more handsome. Goku had boyish good looks and a natural charm, complimented by his endearingly wild hair. Vegeta resembled a model with smoldering eyes and immaculately styled hair sweeping upward. It was like comparing a golden retriever and a wolf: both were beautiful in their own ways. Had you known her roommates were perfect 10s, you would have opted for an outfit more put-together than your cotton booty shorts and oversized tee…

You swallowed, suddenly nervous under the gaze of two gorgeous men. “Um, if you hold down or back when he tries to hit you with a super move, you’ll block half the damage. But you have to get the timing just right,” you explained.

Vegeta pouted his lips and turned to Goku. “You didn’t tell me that, Kakarot!”

Goku laughed and shrugged. “I thought you knew how to block!”

“So you’ve been winning because you haven’t told me all the rules! New match, come on!” Vegeta shouted.

“It’s not really a rule,” Goku murmured with a glance to you and a smile. You smirked back as he turned towards their game once again.

“Try to keep it at a reasonable level guys, please. We have an exam next week and I am not letting my A slip to an A-minus because of this stupid game!” Bulma warned and led you to the round table in the kitchen. You extracted your laptop and a notebook from your backpack and opened up to your most recent homework.

From your seat in the kitchen, you could see directly between the pair of gentlemen, straight to the tiny TV. You couldn’t help but watch as Vegeta’s character desperately tried to master the block timing, barely eeking out a victory.

“HA!” Vegeta celebrated. “In your face! See, all I needed was to actually know all there is to the game to beat you!”

“Oh whatever Vegeta! Bet you can’t do it twice in a row!”

Bulma tapped a manicured finger on your laptop. “Um helloooo? Are you with me?” she asked.

You blushed and turned in your chair towards her. “Yes, I’m sorry! My brothers and I used to play that game together all the time, it’s been a while since I last saw it.”

She smiled at you knowingly. “Or are you just enjoying the eye candy?”

You sucked on your lips and shrugged. “Well… I’m not not enjoying it.”

The two of you snickered quietly at the table.

“I’ve heard that ladies find them attractive, but I’ve known them both since we were little kids. I just can’t see them that way, you know?” she said.

You nodded and glanced over at them, making sure they weren’t listening in. “So you’ve never dated either of them?”

“Goku, never. There was a very brief time in middle school where Vegeta and I went out but it just got weird and… Ugh, I don’t even know how to explain it. But that was ages ago. And both of them are single now,” she offered, brow raised.

You tapped your pencil to your lips. “Hm. Good to know…”

Despite the looming chemistry exam, between the noisy video game and the attractive boys playing it, your focus was gone. As the evening glow began to darken, every few minutes you glanced over between the muscular shoulders on display to see who was in the lead. They were quite evenly matched, trading wins without any notable streaks for either.

After having to steal your attention back several times, Bulma snapped her laptop shut and shook her head.

“We aren’t getting anything done tonight, are we?” she asked.

You turned fully towards her. “Geez, I’m sorry Bulma. I know you wanted to have this assignment finished up but-”

She chuckled and waved her hand. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Like I said, we both have solid A’s and the exam isn’t ‘til next week. We’ve got plenty of time. Go see if they’ll let you play a round!”

“You really don’t mind?” you asked, glancing over the back of the couch once more.

“No, we’ll finish up later. Go have some fun!” she insisted.

You grinned and stuffed your belongings back into your backpack and set it by the front door. “Thanks!”

Just as you approached the living area, Goku rose from the couch and stretched, his skimpy tank top rising to show his midriff. It was just as toned and hard as his arms. The tiny gray shorts he wore left little to the imagination, in both the bulk of his thighs and the size of his package. Oh Christ, you though. The room suddenly felt intensely hot.

“Done already?” you asked, trying not to drool.

Goku smiled. “Nah, I’m just taking a quick water break. You want anything?” he asked.

“Not to drink, but I wouldn’t mind going a round or two at Tenkaichi,” you said.

“Sure!” Goku said. He walked around the couch and handed you the controller on the way to the kitchen. “Kick his ass!”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and looked at you over his shoulder. “Hm. Bring it on.”

As you walked around and plopped on the couch next to Vegeta, you got a better look at him. Significantly smaller in stature than Goku but just as built, he sat at the edge of the cushion with his elbows on his knees. You chuckled internally, recognizing it as the ‘serious’ pose your oldest brother took when playing video games. His gym shorts fit too small, his muscular legs pulling the fabric tight in places. The cut-off tank he wore displayed his fine musculature in a way that made your heart stutter.

Fuck’s sake, he is unbelievably hot, you thought.

Finally tearing your hungry gaze away, you selected the only female character in the game, earning a sideways smirk from your opponent.

“No way you’ll win with her,” he boasted as the game loaded.

“We’ll see,” you contested.

You took a few moments to refamiliarize yourself with the controls, but held your own against Vegeta. He had quickly mastered the block, but the timing came back to you like an old friend. The match was close the entire time until Vegeta managed to pull off a super move while you were in the air, catching you off guard. He smiled.

“A valiant effort,” he offered. “Best two out of three?”

“Of course!”

You fought again, but this time, you managed to recall a hidden combo you had memorized way back in the day. It took your opponent by complete surprise, depleting his health significantly before you moved in to finish the job for an easy win.

“What the hell was that?” he barked.

You grew shy and shrunk into the couch. “Just some muscle memory coming back to me. I’m guessing Goku didn’t tell you about hidden moves either, then?”

Vegeta turned towards you wearing a curious expression.

“Of course he didn’t. There are hidden moves?”

You pulled out your phone and furiously typed away. “Yeah! Each character has a combo that isn’t listed in the actual game anywhere, but they’re the strongest moves there are. My brothers and I used to play this all the time back in the day, but I only know Chacha’s combo. I’m looking up the combo for Prince Monkey so you can try it.”

He eyed you up and down as you searched, admiring the fact that you needed no makeup to look cute. Your features were soft and feminine, your smile lighting up your entire face. His cheeks grew warm when you scooted closer to him on the couch, showing him your phone.

“Here’s the button input. Give it a try!” you encouraged, leaning forward into your own ‘serious’ gaming pose, knee touching his.

He did as you suggested, but struggled with the combo at first. You eased back in the fight, allowing him time to figure it out before he finally blasted you away, winning the match by a hair.

“Nice! You did it!” you praised.

“It’ll be interesting to use that move against Kakarot,” he mused with a smirk.

“Kakarot? I thought his name was Goku,” you said.

“Kakarot is my first name, but I always go by my middle name,” Goku explained as he returned. “He just calls me that because he’s an ass.”

Goku held a dripping bottle of water against the back of Vegeta’s neck, making him recoil and snatch the bottle away.

“So who won?” Goku asked, taking a seat on your left and sandwiching you between two chiseled thighs.

“That would be Prince Monkey,” you admitted. “I took one round though.”

“You held your own well against me,” Vegeta said, giving a tiny hint of a smile. “It was an admirable effort.”

You nodded in appreciation and handed the controller back to Goku, but he waved you off and took a swig of water from his bottle.

“Keep playing as long as you want!” he said.

And so you did, managing to beat Vegeta in the next round thanks to your mastery over the hidden combo. Goku was flabbergasted when he saw the wildly powerful moves for the first time.

“Whoa! What the heck are those?”

"Hidden combos. You’ll have to figure it out on your own, Kakarot!” Vegeta sneered, his knee bumping into yours, then his elbow.

“Hey!” you chuckled, elbowing him back. “Quit trying to throw me off!”

“What are you talking about?” Vegeta rebutted. “I’m not doing anything!” He leaned against you and jostled your arm with his elbow.

“No fair!” you cried. You still managed to win the match, making Vegeta huff in annoyance.

Goku laughed. “Damn, she’s good!”

You shoved Vegeta playfully as he leaned for his bottle of water on the floor. You caught a glint of flirty eye contact as he did, making you want to kick your feet.

“That’s two to two,” Vegeta said. “One more to break the tie?”

“Absolutely. But I do want to change characters,” you said, inputting a code on the character select screen.

“King Monkey?” Goku asked after a new selection appeared.

“Wait, there’s another character?” Vegeta squawked. You nodded proudly.

“Yep. I know all the secrets to this game! Let’s see who will come out on top now!”

King Monkey, a larger and stronger version of his son, quickly dominated with a combo that devastated Vegeta. Despite his best efforts, he struggled to damage you, letting you come out on top without much trouble. Vegeta tossed his head and leaned back on the couch with an irritated grumble.

“Oh man!” Goku said. “That was really one-sided!”

You shrugged and laughed. “Well, King Monkey is a boss character so he’s not exactly fair. But I had to get him back for fighting dirty!”

“Tch, whatever,” Vegeta pouted, handing his controller off to Goku. “I have to get going anyway.”

You frowned and watched him get off the couch and head towards his bedroom down the hall. “Aw, bummer. Where you off to?”

“Astronomy lab,” he said over his shoulder.

Bulma called from the kitchen. “Oh, that’s finally happening?”

“Yes, finally,” Vegeta yelled down the hall, then reappeared with his backpack. “First clear evening in weeks. Cloud cover has been a pain in the ass all semester.”

“Sounds super interesting,” you said. “Well, it was really nice meeting you Vegeta!”

He gave a small smile and wave as he headed out the door. “Yeah. Been fun. See you around.”

“See ya, Jeeta!” Goku called from the couch.

As the door shut behind him, you blushed at the sweet, barely-there smile that had formed on his lips as he said goodbye. Intrigued by his stony, competitive personality, you wondered how Bulma would feel about you asking for his number…

“So he’s an astronomy major?” you asked. Bulma padded over and sat on the arm of the couch.

“Astrophysics, actually,” she explained.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. Didn’t take him for such an academic.”

Bulma snorted. “I know, right? Seems like more of a meathead like Goku.”

Expecting a retort for the insult, you turned towards him, but Goku was unperturbed.

“You gonna let her call you a meathead?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Well, I’m a kinesiology major, so I kind of am!”

You nodded. “Ah, I see. So you wanna be a physical therapist then?”

“I could do that,” he said, leaned his head from side to side. “But I also think running my own gym would be fun. Haven’t decided yet though.”

Quintessential himbo, you thought to yourself, smiling. Bulma’s roommates sure were interesting, to say the least. “Well, you certainly have the physique for it!”

“Thanks!” Goku said with pride. “Vegeta and I lift together all the time. Even though he’s really hard-working on his studies, he works just as hard in the gym. You should see all the other astro nerds, they’re like half his size! Well, in the muscle department at least.” Bulma laughed.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of the pint-sized yet built Vegeta sitting in class with a bunch of pale, scrawny bookworms he could tear in half.

“So are you a chem major like Bulma?” Goku asked.

“Oh gosh, I could never do chemical engineering like her!” you said. “I’m just a regular chemistry major. She’s way smarter than me, plus I don’t really like math all that much.”

“Ugh, me neither!” Goku said, selecting Master Turtle as his character to fight you. “I barely scraped by the general math class, and that was all thanks to Bulma and Vegeta! I’d be stuck in there forever if it wasn’t for them!”

You fought round after round, not even noticing when Bulma slipped away to her bedroom. Conversation flowed easily with the amicable Goku. He had a way of making you feel comfortable even in the silence. He asked about your brothers, told you that he had an older brother but Vegeta was more like a brother to him. As you got to know each other, the twilight faded into darkness, the only light in the living room coming from the tiny TV.

“I need a break, my thumbs are killing me,” you said, rolling your wrists.

“Can I try out that hidden character you had earlier?” Goku asked.

You took his controller and punched in the secret code for him. As you handed it back, your fingers brushed his for an instant. You made brief eye contact, his handsome features illuminated by the TV. He couldn't help but smile at the dusting of blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Your long lashes framed your pretty eyes perfectly, he thought, and your bright smile made his stomach feel lighter than air. Neither of you had noticed that you had migrated towards the center of the couch, only separated by an inch between your thighs.

You watched Goku figure out the new character, following his expressive brown eyes dancing across the screen. You hoped he couldn’t tell how hard you were staring at him from the corner of your eye. He was too damn handsome to take your eyes off of for long. And his pecs looked like they’d make a perfect pillow…

As Goku fought against the computer-controlled Prince Monkey, a twinge of conflict made you bite your lip.

Shit, you thought. I have no idea which of these guys I like better! Surely you couldn’t ask Bulma for both of their numbers, that would just be greedy. But you had to get one of them. No way could you pass up the opportunity. They were far too fine.

As if she could sense your dilemma, Bulma emerged from her bedroom and came back into the living area.

“I cannot believe how long you have been playing that damn game, Goku,” she laughed.

He grinned. “I’m just glad my old TV still works! Wish we could hook it up to the big screen though.”

As he continued to play, you stood from the couch and motioned for Bulma to join you in the kitchen.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I have a question,” you whispered, looking over your shoulder to make sure Goku was distracted by the game.

Bulma got the hint and lowered her voice. “Sure.”

“How would you feel…” you hesitated. “If I wanted one of your roommate’s numbers?”

She grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I freaking knew it. Which one though?”

You crossed your arms. “That’s the problem. I can’t decide!”

Bulma put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Are you for real?”

You nodded and smooshed your cheeks in your hands. “They’re both so hot!”

Bulma thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “Ooh! I have an idea! Let me ask them how they felt about you, try to get a feel for which of them vibed with you the best.”

“Oh gosh, are you sure?” you asked. “Don’t make it too obvious though.”

Bulma smirked. “Please. I know the art of subtlety, my dear. I’ve got you covered.”

You bounced with glee. “You’re the best!”

“I know!” Bulma said with a shrug and proud smile.

After your nightly shower and bedtime routine, you climbed into bed to see your phone lit up with a new message.

BULMA: soooo i talked to the boys about you

YOU: ahhh

YOU: i’m gonna puke

BULMA: one of them actually asked about you before i got the chance to ;)

YOU: omg fr shut up

BULMA: wanna guess which one???

Part 2: Goku

Part 2: Vegeta coming soon!

dbz masterlist

tags: @artof-aristocracy

#dbz x reader #vegeta x reader #goku x reader #vegeta x you #goku x you #dragon ball z #dragon ball #son goku #prince vegeta #fuzzfeet #fuzzfeet figure #all the right buttons

[drewsbuzzcut]

Body Electric

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: SMUT AND ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION

You watch, almost completely hypnotized by the guy on stage playing guitar. His hair is long and he’s built like a god. His muscles flex with each guitar string being pulled, and you can feel the fluttering sensation in your stomach while heat rises to your cheeks. His hands are big and he’s got a cute smile. You’ve had too much alcohol.

You down the rest of your drink, fixing to walk away to the restroom, but not before sparing one last look at the man with the boyish grin. You swear that you both make eye contact, making your cheeks redden and your breath catch. You just about stumble into everything on your way to the restroom.

You spend almost half an hour in the restroom, fixing your appearance more than actually using the restroom. You mess your hair up to make it appear windblown, you reapply your lipgloss, and wipe away the smudged mascara under your eyes. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you adjust your lucky brand mini skirt and your black tank top that shows the perfect amount of cleavage. Your heels are killing your feet, but you ignore the ache and walk your way out into the hallway as if you were on the runway. The same moment you’re checking a notification that popped up on your phone, you bump into someone’s very sturdy physique. Looking up, you gulp, throat suddenly dry and eyes wide as you look up at the man in front of you.

There he goes, sporting that sexy grin, looking like he owns the damn place.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks and you immediately nod your head.

Grasping your hand, he leads you to the bar, letting you take a seat on the lone bar stool.

“Two whiskeys, please,” he requested.

After receiving both your drinks, you eventually move off the stool, preferring to be closer to the man. You’re both staring at each other, almost daring the other to make the next move. Although the bar is loud, you can only hear your heart pounding. His eyes are sparkling as they explore your face, taking their time to memorize the perfect curve of your lips and the way your eyelashes flutter so flirtatiously. His eyes linger on your chest, your glowing skin calls out to him; the way your collarbones are begging to be bitten, and the way your chest moves up and down with each breath you take.

“Why’d you put on more lipgloss?” He asks, gliding his thumb along your bottom lip. You resist the urge to suck it into your mouth.

“I think it’d look good smeared all over you,” you tease, finishing off the last of your drink. A drop slips down the side of your mouth, he reaches out to wipe it away before sucking it off his finger.

A flare ignites in your eyes, licking your lips you smirk up at the man. His thick fingers hook onto the loops on your mini denim skirt, pulling your body closer to his. He takes a peek at the sliver of your revealed skin, the slopes of your baby abs enticing him. He lets his fingers trace the exposed area, grinning when your skin breaks out in goosebumps. The air around the both of you is thick and tension filled. There’s electricity in the pads of your fingers, snapping against each other’s skin with each small touch.

You get tired of the anticipation, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into your body. You don’t need to lean on your tiptoes as you’re wearing heels, so kissing him is easy.

“Maty, I want you,” you whisper hotly.

“Fuck let’s go home,” he says, breaking the act of you both pretending you weren’t already in a relationship, and meeting for the first time.

“No, too far. I want you now,” you respond, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the restroom.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans, head tipping back.

Arriving at your destination: the men’s restroom, you let your back rest against the door while Mat presses into you, littering your chest with kisses.

You card your fingers through his long hair, loving that it’s long because that means you can pull on it when he unravels you with his tongue or fingers. You let your senses pick up his cologne, one that you’re absolutely in love with. He wears it, knowing you’re down on your knees the second you smell it. Your hands travel their way up his shirt, feeling the muscles on his back. You have to stop the moan that wants to claw out of your throat when he bites on the skin of your collarbone; you’re not exactly in private yet.

You reach a hand behind you, opening the door to the seemingly vacant restroom, and you pull yourself away from Mat. You enjoy the blissed out look on his face, knowing that he loves touching you in any way he can- especially if it makes you moan. His eyes are glazed over, lips swollen, and hands antsy to hold onto you.

You smirk at him, pulling on the silver chain he wears everyday and pull him all the way into the restroom and into the stall. You connect your lips with his, sucking and biting on his bottom lip while his hands pull up your tank top to expose your boobs. He pulls your face impossibly closer to his with a hand on your neck, and sucks on your tongue. You swear that if you weren’t holding onto him, your knees would’ve buckled and you’d be on the floor. Moving away from your face, despite your pout, he attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and pulling on the bud. You hold his face there, not wanting him to stop. You can feel your heat pulsing and the wetness gathering. Too bad the stall is too small for him to eat you out in. Although knowing your husband, he’d make it possible. He’d probably lift you up so that your legs are resting on his shoulders, your pussy right in front of his face and he’d feast as if he were a starving man. The more you think about it, the more your hips start to grind into his own.

“Barzy, fuck me,” you whisper in a whine.

“You’re insatiable, baby. I want to taste you first,” he says and you shake your head, too impatient to wait to feel him inside you.

“No. Need you now. I want to feel you deep inside of me,” you say back.

He nods his head in agreement.

“Lucky me,” he muses, looking at the ‘lucky you’ tag inside the zipper of your mini skirt.

Before you can respond he’s pushing your skirt up and ripping your panties apart, leaving you a shocked mess. He gives you a wink when he shoves your panties in the pocket of your skirt. Lifting you up so you wrap your legs around his waist, he gives you a chaste kiss, quieting your rushed demands for him to hurry up.

Not even realizing that he had already pulled his pants down, he lets his cock slide between your folds, getting coated in your juices. You squeeze around him when he first sinks into you, you fist his shirt in your hands. He relishes in the feeling. You can feel him shudder against you as his head rests in your neck.

He whimpers whenever your heat clenches around his length, providing you with the insane urge to claw your nails down his back. He can feel your wetness dripping in between the both of you, making his movements falter a bit. He’s a weak man when it comes to you.

“I’m going to need a plan-b,” you moan.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t get pregnant again,” you warn him.

He only grunts in response, pulling your tank top all the way off and pressing dozens of kisses on your “13” tattoo on the swell of your boob. He loves that tattoo. He ends up leaving a very red bruise, but you couldn't care less.

You can feel the restroom starting to become hot and sticky, but you feel too good to care. You don’t even care about the possibility of you both being so loud, anyone outside can hear you.

The knot in your tummy is starting to tighten and you can feel Mat’s cock start to twitch. Your heart is beating so fast, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear it. Your fist is still wrapped tightly in the material of his shirt, and his movements are too slow for your liking.

You shift your hips up to meet his thrusts, hoping that he speeds up. He does speed up. His pace is rapid, practically pounding you into the door against your back and he holds onto the top of the stall door with a death grip. Your legs that are wrapped around his waist, pull him flush against you and your moan is so pornographic whenever you feel him so far deep inside of you. Sweat drips down his forehead but he couldn’t look any more beautiful.

Every time you lift your hips, you clit grazes against him, spending you higher and higher. Hands moving to his face, so that he’s looking right at you, watching the way your eyes shut close and mouth drops open.

“C’mon, baby. I need you to cum for me,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, sucking on your earlobe for good measure.

You moan out, head tilting back and your cunt squeezing him as that knot finally explodes. Your vision goes white and you swear you’ve never felt something so euphoric.

Desperate to reach his orgasm, his thrusts become frantic but prominent, his cock filling you completely. Your g-spot is getting hit again and again, and you know he’s watching the way your pussy contracts around him. You shriek at the overstimulation, feeling another orgasm taking over.

He moves to hold you up against the stall door, arms under the backs of your knees to secure your body from falling in exhaustion.

You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock drag against your slick walls. His finger starts to rub circles on your clit, sending your body arching into his. You wrap your arms around the broad expanse of his shoulders, nipping and sucking at his neck and lips. Your lipgloss all over his face. Of course, not hard enough to leave a noticeable mark, but enough to make his pace unforgiving.

“Maty, please cum in me. I need it so bad, baby,” you whine.

He continues to fuck into you, harder and harder, hands gripping your hips tightly and pounding you on his dick. He has you crying out in pleasure until he’s painting your pussy with his hot cum. His release triggers your second, making you milk him for everything he has.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says, groaning at the end as you clench around him teasingly.

“I know,” you smirk before whimpering as he flicks your clit, knowing you’re extra sensitive.

You both take a few minutes in your same position, feeling the mixture of both of your cum drip from you and down his shaft. It’s erotic and so hot.

“We should probably go back out there before someone sends a search party,” you say softly.

“No. I want to stay here, inside of you and feel your warmth. I could live here forever,” he sighs out.

“I know, baby. Which is exactly why we need to start using condoms again, or get you snipped,” you respond, fixing his hair that’s a mess all over his forehead.

He just sighs, gently setting you down on your feet, and readjusts your clothing.

You pull out the torn fabric that was your underwear and dangle it in front of his face, watching him smirk and lick his lips.

“I think this belongs to you,” you muse, stuffing it in the back pocket of his pants.

You lean up, pressing a chaste kiss to your husband’s lips and walk out to the mirror- sans your top.

You fix your very smudged makeup and tame your hair all while Mat is glued to your back, and his hands are glued to your boobs. He’s always clingy after sex, so you don’t pay any mind as he kisses along the tops of your shoulders and the side of your neck.

“You gonna let go, or am I going to have to walk out there shirtless?” You tease, knowing all too well that he’d never want anyone to see you bare. It’s for his eyes only.

He easily hands you back your top and you smirk in response.

“Buy me a drink?” You ask, arms thrown around his neck.

“Only if you let me eat you out tonight,” he proposes, hands now glued on your ass.

“You can eat me out as many times as you want,” you say in a sultry tone, kissing your man in an obscene way once more before returning to the public eye.

y/nbarzal

liked by bblount, barzysworld, and 87,636,627 others

y/nbarzal Finally got to live out my fantasy of being a rockstar’s girlfriend (wife)

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barzal97 You are the rockstar

y/nscloset I need to see the full fit please!

sydneyemartin Hottie

lianabarzal Please Mat is not a rockstar😭

barzal97

liked by thebarzalsupdates, titobeauvi91, and 56,892,711 others

barzal97 She couldn’t handle it

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y/nbarzal After I called you a rockstar, you out me like this!

y/nbarzal I see how it is

titobeauvi91 Next time I’ll be the one to support you

y/nbarzal I hate you

barzysworld This is actually blowing my mind

matfan Who would’ve thought Mat was talented with the guitar

a/n: THIS ISNT EXACTLY MY FAVORITE BUT I HOPE YALL ENJOY IT!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal smut #mat barzal angst #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

[dreadsuitsamus]

Can i request sfw prompt 1 with vegeta. But instead of it being vegeta's shirt can it be s/o's baggy hoodie that vegeta borrows?

#1- "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?"

author's note: i love vegeta in casual clothes. i want nothing more than to see him in a henley shirt 🤤

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, vegeta being a lil shit

Getting Vegeta out of his armor and into casual clothes was a gradual thing. Despite it being the uniform of his past as a slave and the reminder of his genocidal deeds, it was comforting for him as the only constant he'd ever had his entire life. At any moment he'd be ready to fight, and that damn standard issue Frieza Force fit could handle it, with its ability to stretch at any size and to a certain extent, it could tank most hits without damage.

But sometimes it's laundry day, and it's not like he's got many pairs of armor tucked away. And as proud as he is of his body, he's humble enough to not walk around Bulma's place in the nude.

He's not above stealing, however.

You hum softly as you pull your laundry out of the dryer, rubbing your fingers and thumb together through Vegeta's skin-tight Saiyan suit. It's been hanging to dry since your clothes finished washing, and you've begun a routine of washing Vegeta's clothes with yours. It isn't like he's got much to make a full load anyway, and you can't recall ever seeing your sister do her own laundry.

With another hum, you drape his armor over your basket of clothes and begin the trek upstairs. Your room is right across the hall from the Saiyan's, so you simply hang the suit on the door and knock before stepping into your bedroom. With a sigh and a heave of the basket, you look at the arduous task for several minutes before starting.

Folding. Fuck folding.

"Bulma! Vegeta!" You shout through cupped hands. "Dinner's ready!" Bulma's door opens quickly with your older, adoptive sister practically jumping down the stairway.

"Thank god, I'm starving. Smells like steak?"

"Surf 'n turf." You nod, glancing back in the direction of the stairs. "He better hurry, 'cuz he's gonna be mad if he misses this, with all the meat I made."

"His loss!" Bulma shrugs, piling the delicious meal you've prepped onto her plate, her hip propped to the countertop as she starts eating. Despite Bulma's uncaring attitude, after your plate is fixed up you set aside the rest for Vegeta. It's a hefty portion, and after living with him for a year, you've figured out the sweet spot for the prince's hunger; any less than the three steaks, two bags worth of shrimp, plus the rest of the fixins and Vegeta would have a pouty, princely tantrum.

"You baby him, y'know." Bulma says before biting into her steak.

Your eyes cut at her sharply, annoyed as you sip on your tea. "You built him a special training room."

"You cook for him!"

"I cook for you!"

"You do his laundry!"

"You bought him the clothes I wash!"

"He's wearing your hoodie!"

"You- He what."

Bulma smirks, lazily flicking her fork in the incoming prince's direction. Sure enough, he's wearing your favorite hoodie as he strides to the kitchen. It's an old one from your teenage years with a worn Nirvana logo on it. The thing has always been like a safety net; its large size has allowed you to sort of "hide" whenever your nerves have gotten to you.

But on Vegeta, it's perfect. He fills it out how it's meant to, the black fabric making him look so snugly. It's odd, seeing him so… Soft? His rippling muscles are entirely covered, and his sharply narrowed eyes lose their bite. You point to the leftover platter, pleased with his nod of thanks. Bulma hides a giggle behind her palm, eyes openly ogling Vegeta's ass in those jeans while he walks the platter to the table.

"Stop that!" You whisper, throwing the salt shaker at her. It doesn't dissuade your sister, however, and she merely throws the shaker right back. You catch it, sticking your tongue out and looking to Vegeta as he tears into his mini feast.

"Is that my hoodie?"

"I dunno." Vegeta shrugs. You blink slowly, glancing at your sister and then back to the Saiyan prince.

"Where did you even get it from?" You swear it was-

"In your closet."

b r u h

"Then… It would be mine."

"Hm." Vegeta finishes his food, politely moving the dishes into the sink and washing his hands. "I'll be training."

His knuckles ghost over your knee as he leaves, a thrill of warmth sent up all the way to your neck. Bulma, at the very least, has the courtesy to wait for Vegeta's footsteps to recede upstairs before laughing loudly at you.

"You so have a thing for him!"

"Shut UP, Bulma!" Jaw tightened and brows furrowed, a dish towel's suddenly in her face while you stomp upstairs. Embarrassment ebbs at your skin, cheeks hot and flustered goosebumps littering your arms and legs. Of course you're interested in Vegeta; a strong, handsome man in your home?? That you take care of?? You'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not take interest.

You're suddenly met with a brick wall, though when you see that bright blue another wave of embarrassment showers over you. Naturally you'd run directly into your crush at a time like this.

How is he so SOLID-

"Here." Vegeta murmurs, looking into your eyes so directly he can probably see your brain short out and stop working. If he did, though, he doesn't indicate it and gently drapes the folded hoodie over your shoulder, his knuckles brushing your skin again.

Without another word, Vegeta departs for his training session. You gnaw on your lip and carefully hold the sweatshirt, the scent of his body wash lingering on it. You hold it to your nose and quickly scurry into your bedroom before Bulma catches you.

"WHY IS IT SO FUCKING COLD?!"

You flinch, side-eyeing your shivering sister with a look that could kill and pass her a cup of hot cocoa. "Because it's the dead of winter, eleven at night, and you broke the goddamn heater. I can't believe you don't know anything HVAC related, and more than that, I can't believe you fucked with it not knowing what to do!"

"Oh, you can bet your ass I'm gonna be an expert by the end of the week! And excuse me for trying to make it work in my bedroom!"

All you can muster is an eye roll, tuning out Bulma's incessant blabbering and shiver as you prepare your own cocoa. Your sleeves are long, but the thin fabric wasn't doing you any favors. Bulma, all bundled up and even sporting an orange beanie with a blue pom on top, tugs at your thin top. "You're gonna freeze, girl."

"I can't find my hoodie." Your fingers twirl a spoon between them as the marshmallows melt in the cocoa.

"You have more." Bulma narrows her blue eyes suspiciously.

"That one's my favorite. It's big and warm and soft." Your lips curl into a pout.

"Mhm, sure. Or is it that it's been occupied by a sexy-"

"Who the hell turned the air on?" Vegeta asks as he strides into the kitchen, in dark sweatpants and wearing your hoodie once again. Sometimes it feels like this is the only room you see him in.

"Bulma broke the furnace." You cut your eyes to her again, sticking your tongue out when she flips up her middle finger at you.

"Of course." Vegeta rolls his eyes, accepting the cup of cocoa you quickly make up for him. His fingers graze yours, but he's frowning and seems not to notice the action. "You have goosebumps."

"Ah, it's cold?"

"Where's your jacket?"

"Where's my jacket?"

"You deaf?"

"I- No."

"Hm. Here." Vegeta pulls off your hoodie, and the chill in the house dispels in an instant.

Your sister's eyes damn near bulge out of her head at Vegeta's naked torso. While her face slowly turns red, Vegeta opens up the hoodie and pulls it over your head and tugs it down, quieting your worries down before you can voice them. "Saiyans are more hot-blooded than humans; I'll be fine."

Your mouth is bone-dry and you probably haven't blinked since the second that hem started going up. "Uh… I, ah… T-Thanks."

Vegeta takes a step back, picking up his mug and looking directly into your eyes while he takes a sip. "Mhm."

What the fuck. Why is he so hot.

Bulma's baby blues flick between you and Vegeta, her mouth parted enough to catch flies. "What the hell is going on here."

"Stay warm tonight." Vegeta keeps his eyes trained on you, shifting away before pausing his movements. "Make those hashbrowns with the eggs and bacon in the morning."

"Yes sir." You nod dumbly, eyes burning from the lack of blinking. What the hell was that about??

"G'night, ladies." Vegeta murmurs before strutting back out, a satisfied smirk on his lips when he feels two pairs of eyes on his toned back.

"If you don't get a piece of that when he's literally putting himself on a platter…" Bulma warns lowly, already thinking of potential baby names. "I fucking will."

You scoff and dump what remains in your mug, "Shut up. He's just after food."

"You are so dumb." Bulma pulls off her beanie and fans herself. "He's been giving you fuck-me eyes for months and I am siiiiiiiick of it."

"I-" You cheeks heat up and you pull your hood up, hiding your face in it.

"Uh-uh! Own it! Hot space alien has the hots for you!"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do. He wants you to stay warm in his-"

"Bulma Briefs!"

Your sister leaves the room after a quick kiss to your temple, cackling all the way upstairs while you childishly rub the smooch away. Your thoughts wander while you do an inventory of the fridge, wondering if Bulma's words really do hold any weight to them. Yes, Vegeta has been… Bold. His smoldering gaze sets you ablaze every time he looks your way, and more and more you're noticing him looking at you, touching you…

Wearing your hoodie whenever he feels like it.

Perhaps she's onto something, but that'll be dealt with later, as it's midnight and he's already said his goodnights. But as you set your hand on the doorknob to your room, Vegeta's door opens up. Cursing softly, you turn your head to give him one more goodnight.

There's a pause, your eyes locked and the tension becoming more charged with each passing second. He's thrown on a dark Henley since going back to his bedroom, and it is entirely unfair for half-covered forearms to look so damn good. "Um… You're up late." You grimace at yourself for the lame conversation starter, though Vegeta seems not to care.

"Training room is broken."

"Bulma's gonna tear you a new one."

"And all I have to do is take off my shirt and she'll shut up."

Devious bastard.

"Good… Good point." You bite into your lip and curl your hand around the fabric of your sleeve, pulling it to your lip while cutting eye contact with the handsome prince.

"Do I make you nervous?"

"... A little bit."

Those bulky arms cross over his muscled chest and he smirks at you like he's gotten prey in his cross hairs. "I suppose it makes sense." He leans in closely to you, your chin soon between his fingers so he can make you look at him. A soft, sharp inhale sucks in between your lips, Vegeta's smirk widening. "A bad man living right across the hall… That'd make anyone nervous. But that's not why you're nervous."

"Vegeta…"

His arms box you in, hands firmly planted on the painted wall and leaving you with no escape. "Ever had a man this close?"

"... No." The air is heavy around you, so thick you could cut through it with an eyelash curler. Vegeta's dark eyes flick down and then back at your eyes, and you could swear he looked at your lips. He inches even closer, his lips a whisper on your cheek before they meet your ear, his voice causing an involuntary shudder throughout your entire body; even your goosebumps get goosebumps.

"How long are you going to ignore me?"

"Vegeta?"

"Way I see it, you've got two choices. You can acknowledge me, let me down easy if you gotta, or…" He thumbs the hem of your sweatshirt. "You give this back."

"It's my hoodie!" You squeak. He's so close that when you turn your head, your nose bumps his. He's right there!

"You mean our hoodie?"

"I- You- We- Huh??"

"We're sharing it. End of."

"Well, what're you sharing with me?" Your lips curl into an adorable pout and you cross your arms with an annoyed eyebrow raised. Who the hell was he to make demands from you?? He was in your house you shared with Bulma, eating your food and living off of you and your sister entirely for free! Not to mention he'd tried to kill all of your friends!!!

"The hoodie."

"Of yours." You started rolling your eyes entirely too often when Bulma allowed him to stay here.

Vegeta smirks. "I have one thing in mind."

His lips are on yours, and in the morning when you're cooking his breakfast, he struts into the kitchen with a satisfied smirk and your old hoodie on once again. Bulma eyes you incredulously as she walks in, noticing how his hand rubs up the curve of your spine before running back down and gripping your rear.

"I told you so!"

#vegeta x reader #vegeta x you #vegeta #db #dbz #dbs #fic #requests #anon

[watermelonsugacry]

i would adore to learn how/when y/n meet mitch! your posts make me so happy!

Choose Your Words

A/N: in celebration of SINCE 2010 turning 1 on Tumblr, here's how the two best guitarists in the world met! 💚

SUMMARY: After almost a year into One Direction's hiatus, Harry craves being in the studio again to make some music. After inviting his best friend and former band member, YN, onto his team, they spend the next two months in Jamaica as they make an album, uncover hidden feelings, and explore uncharted territories. (3.5k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // Jamaica series // Previous song here! 🌵

SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl

“So what did you say his name was again?” 

Today marks the first day of the official writing session for Harry’s new album. The last of the team had just finished flying in the day before and settling into their new home for the next two months. 

Much like her time in the band, YN being the only female in this team was given her own room to stay in for their stay in Jamaica. With only a couple of hours in the land of paradise, she’s already traded in her skinny jeans for shorts and her leather jackets for open button-up shirts with tank tops underneath. 

Harry is just too excited to wait any longer. YN could tell how much he’s been holding it in and he has been itching to be back in the studio to make some music. After everyone’s taken naps to overcome the jet lag, it was time to get into the home studio to bring Harry’s ideas to fruition. 

The two of them haven’t experienced writing an album like this before. They were always on the road whenever they recorded, putting down some vocals here and there in a mini van minutes before going on stage to perform to a stadium full of people. They’ve never had the chance to set a month or two aside to solely focus on creating such a magic piece of art. Despite already getting in the studio to get started working on the album, it already feels like a vacation.

But before they could even get started, she had to ask about the last member of Harry’s team that she wasn’t able to meet before making the trip overseas. 

“Mitch. Mitch Rowland. He was Ryan’s roommate.” Harry answers as YN takes a sip of her smoothie she made earlier that morning. Her and Harry walk side by side down the hallway on their way to the built-in home studio. The house they were staying in was absolutely beautiful. It was just sitting off the coast so almost every window in the house had a view of the beach. It has a lot of open space in each room, a spacious backyard and a patio area for get-togethers, but YN’s favorite part of the house is the home studio. She can’t wait until hers gets done by the time they get back from their trip. 

“Wait, what happened to the other bloke that was supposed to come in?” 

Harry takes the cup from her hand and takes a sip for himself, “He bailed.”

“Just like that?” YN raises her eyebrows in surprise as he nods around the cup. “Well shit. Is this new guy legit then?” 

“Ryan said Mitch has been working at a pizza shop for the last couple of years and that they’re pretty good friends.” She nods along before being handed back her cup. “Met him about a week before we came out here and he’s pretty fucking wicked at the guitar. He’s pretty stiff competition compared to you.” 

“Har, har,” YN playfully rolls her eyes at his teasing but the compliment simultaneously inflates her ego and gives her tummy butterflies at the same time. The feeling in her stomach only increases as she watches Harry rake a hand through his new haircut.

Only a week before they need to take off to Jamaica, YN and Harry take the trip back to Holmes Chapel to a very excited Anne. The woman never fails to extend a warm welcome—especially towards the young lady who her son’s been secretly in love with since he was a teenager.

They stay by the doorframe of Anne’s small kitchen and (despite YN’s few attempts to talk him out of it) watch as Harry gets ready for his first haircut in almost two years. He takes off his shirt since he doesn’t feel like plucking the hair off of the fabric, leaving him in his pajama pants. The two women watch as he gets his long locks tied back in a low ponytail and YN can’t help the giggle that tumbles out of her lips.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry can’t help but chuckle as well. As much as this transformation is needed in order to transition into this new chapter in his life, there’s no denying that he’s feeling anxious as well.

“M’nervous! I can’t help it,” YN beams, tightly linking her arm with Anne’s.

“You want to cut a bit of it off?” Harry offers.

“Like hell m’gonna to be partly responsible for this crime being committed in front of me eyes.”

The people in the room laugh at her playfully offended tone and Anne pats her hand reassuringly to the young woman’s arm. YN’s had her fair share of hair transformations over the years. For Harry, his long hair has always been her favorite. She remembers the day he told her he planned on growing it out with the intention of donating it and the day he asked her about some ways he could keep his hair out of his eyes—introducing his love for headscarves and small clips. She remembers when she had a real shitty day and he let her braid his long hair to cheer her up...only for him to keep them on for the show they had later that night. She loved to card her fingers through his hair and watch his eyes fight to stay open.

Right as the hairdresser begins to grab at the low ponytail and brings the blades of the scissors to his hair, YN playfully covers her eyes and digs her face into Anne’s arm, “I can’t watch!”

“I was the one with the long hair. I’ve had it for so much of One Direction that cutting it off just felt like starting afresh.”

YN’s eyes peek through the gap in between her fingers as she watches the deed be done. Harry also has a hand over his eyes and playfully groans out in pain. 

She snaps a couple of pictures of him initially getting his hair trimmed before leaving to the living room to let him have his haircut in peace and have a chat with Anne. And once it was officially over, Harry only adds to the anticipation of his new haircut reveal when he tells her to cover her eyes.

“Hurry up, H. M’already all worked up.”

“Okay, okay,” She hears the sound of wood—presumingly the coffee table—scraping against the floor before he takes a take on it to be in front of her. “Open your eyes, love.” 

Her eyes make their way up from the two birds on his chest up to his head.

“Huh,” She smiles contently at the sight in front of her. Harry’s hair no longer reaches below his shoulders. The curly curtains that once framed his face have been removed. His newly short locks don’t seem as curly as it used to be but they both know it’s still there. Harry’s hair is styled in an upward motion and all she wants to do is run her fingers through it.

So she brings a hand up to do just that. She combs her fingers through the top of his hair and she’s slightly surprised that his hair is not long enough for the action to last longer. Her gaze moves down to his eyes and sees him waiting for her approval. 

“Is that a good ‘huh’?” He asks when she hasn’t said another word.

“It’s a good ‘huh.’” She tilts her head to the side as she continues to stare at him and a smile of his own creeps onto his face. She’s definitely going to miss his long hair, but on the other hand, she thinks his new look suits him as he starts a new chapter in life. And if she’s being completely honest with herself, he looks so fucking handsome.

When he sees her eyes continuing to bounce around the top of his head and around the rest of his face, he playfully pushes at her knee, “Stop or else I’ll get conceded.”

His chest swells when he sees that gorgeous smile of hers only become that much brighter, “Oh I think you’re way past that.” 

“I was about to personify my hair but I decided not to,” Harry huffs out a smirk from his seat in front of his interview chair. 

“M’excited for you to meet him though,” Harry says, rubbing his hands together. “Getting a lead guitarist is just the beginning for all this, y’know? Like it makes this that much more real.”

It’s really exciting to see Harry so excited about his music. Going from being in the band for five years and putting out an album a year was tiring to say the least but the fact that they were making music that they loved balanced out some of the stress. Now as an upcoming solo artist, it was inspiring to see him as passionate about music as he was when she first met him all those years ago.

“Well let’s stop wasting time then and let me go see how wicked this guy really is.” YN smiles and reaches for the door handle but before she can touch it, his hand covers hers. She blinks up at him as he brings their joined hands to his chest.

“You think talking to me is a waste of time, lovie?” Whether it was the teasing look in his eye or the way he smirks at her with his dimpled cheeks, but it has her mind going blank without a witty comment to fire back. Yet this is how they’ve been for years: making jokes that were borderline flirty, causing the other person to smirk or playfully roll their eyes in fake annoyance, acting like one another’s actions didn’t have an effect on them when it utterly and wholeheartedly did. Since they couldn’t do anything about it with the strict restrictions of the no-dating rule in the band, there was no harm or foul with these kinds of conversations.

Now everything is different.

They aren’t in the band anymore.

These stubble comments and questions left them searching for the truth behind each word that pushed past the other’s lips. Did the other person actually mean what they said or was it just them being how they always are? 

At a loss for words, she furrows her brows with a rigid shake of her head, “N-no, I-I mean—”

“M’joking darling,” An amused smile graces his face from seeing her all flustered and tongue-tied. It’s a rare sight so whenever he’s able to catch her off guard in this way, he relishes in it.

YN pulls her hand away from Harry’s with an eye roll and a scoff, trying her best to play off a cool demeanor, “I know tha’.” 

Despite her efforts, he continues to smirk down at her before twisting the door handle and pushing the door open. 

“After you,” Harry extends a hand out towards the room. With one last look at him, she enters the room with the rim of the cup to her lips to hide the heat creeping its way up to her cheeks. She sees two of the producers, Tyler and Alex, messing around with the buttons on the panel and in a light discussion. 

She also sees a guy in the recording room through the window above the huge studio console. His long hair covers his face as he looks down to tune his guitar.

“Is this him?” She asks, feeling Harry behind her. 

Tyler turns around and gives a quick nod, “Should we let him know we’re ready for him?”

YN cocks up an eyebrow with a hand lazily resting on her hip, “Let’s see what he’s got.”

Given the good girl persona that One Direction’s management forced upon her during the majority of her career, no one would really expect her to look so intimidating. Sure, there’s always going to be some slight intimidation for the fact that she’s a member of one of the most famous bands in the world, making music that quickly lands them at the top of the charts, putting out new music, and performing to sold-out stadiums almost every night—but she’s been so prim and proper externally that some people wouldn’t think twice to write her off as anything else.

As the last year of the band progressed, more and more of her personality began to shine through to the outside world. She’s a harsh critic and doesn’t like to sugar coat shit—especially if it comes to a big project like this for one of the most important people in her life.

So as she takes a seat on the leather sofa chair with Harry sitting on the arm rest, she puts one leg over the other and crosses her arms over her chest with a neutral expression on her face. Harry might say that this hippie looking guy is a good guitarist, but YN needs to see that for herself.

“I was a bit skeptical about Mitch at first, m’not gonna lie,” YN lightly laughs in her interview chair. “I mean, v’seen a lot of talented guitarists so far during my music career so I was mainly looking to see like, ‘what’s so different about this guy?’” 

From the first note that the guy behind the glass riffs—as cool as it was—she keeps from showing her thoughts and brings her cup to her lips. Harry pinches at his bottom lips as he watches for her reactions; needing her approval for something as vital as this racks his nerves like no other. 

As Mitch continues to play, Harry sees the way YN begins to slowly move her head to the pretty melody. Her eyes scan the spot on the floor in front of her as she listens closely to what’s being played and the infamous crease in between her eyebrows appears.

“But the moment he started playing, he just...” She shakes her head with a smirk. “...he blew me fookin’ socks off.”

Mitch does a really cool riff on the guitar that has the four of them in the room whoop and shout in amazement.

“Woah!” Harry stands up from his seat and lifts his arms in the air. 

“Holy shit!” YN lets out a laugh, putting her hands to her temple in disbelief. “Are yeh fookin’ kidding me?”

The next thing she knows, Harry’s removing his pink button up, crossing his arms across his torso and removing his shirt to place it onto her lap behind him. The two producers in the room soon catch on and start laughing hysterically at the sight before them.

Harry then proceeds to shimmy out of his tight, black jeans, leaving him in his tiny briefs, and sticks his arms in the air. YN places her index fingers in the corners of her mouth and blows out a loud whistle both for Mitch's guitar skills and Harry's undressing.

The two of them don’t waste another second as Harry takes her inside the recording room to formally introduce her to the newest member of the team.

“Mitch, this is my best friend YN. YN, this is—”

“Mitch fookin’ Rowland,” YN smirks, taking his outreached hand. “S’nice to meet yeh, mate.”

“Thanks, same here,” Mitch gives her a shy smile. “Harry’s told me a lot about you. He told me you’re a musician too?” 

Trying not to be thrown off by his innocent tone, YN glances at Harry at Mitch’s unexpected comment but she’s quick to bounce back, “I am, yeah. Nothing too major though. Play a bit of guitar as well.”

“Yeah, and by ‘a bit,’” Harry throws a hand on her shoulder. “She means she’s practically married to it.”

“You have to show me some of your secrets then,” Mitch motions to the guitar that’s still pressed against himself.

“Sure, but before that, you gotta show me how you did that one riff earlier,” YN says as she’s already reaching for one of the guitars she’s brought for the trip and throwing the thick strap over her shoulder.

It’s strange to meet someone who hasn’t known their band. YN can’t remember the last time she met someone where they didn’t know her name and her success prior to being formally introduced. Since she was sixteen years old, she began to feel like everyone knew everything about her: her feelings, her background, what she was fucking thinking just because they read something in some sleazy, tabloid article. People had preconceived notions about her but with Mitch, it’s the complete opposite. It was an uncomfortable experience at first, but then YN fookin’ loves it.

“The thing with Mitch is that since he had no experience with being in a recording studio and YN having the same, if not more, experience with songwriting and that sort of thing, it really connected us in a way where the three of us sort of, balanced each other out,” Harry explains, before pitching at his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger. “We had each other to lean on and work this out together and the three of us wrote the majority of the album together.”

“The first song we wrote together was Ever Since New York,” YN recalls as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Knowing from personal experience, the best form of therapy and venting out yeh feelings is in songwriting so...that song was just waiting to come out of Harry.”

A major part of creating music is being vulnerable. It’s an intimate experience to write songs, especially with other people, in letting other people see your hurts, your feelings, and the kinds of thoughts that can keep you up late at night. It’s one of the reasons why YN and Harry are as close as they are. It took some time to get used to it at the beginning of their careers together, but they let each other see the deepest parts of themselves. They tell each other things that they’d be embarrassed to tell anyone else with no fear of judgment; they’ve created a safe space in one another...well, as safe as one can feel when they’re secret, deeper feelings for their best friend.

Ever Since New York came to life fairly easily; songwriting can be that way when writing from life experiences. After finalizing some of the lyrics about Harry’s sick father with YN and working out the chords with Mitch, the next they knew he was laying down the vocals for the song. 

As everyone gets to work in the studio, YN finds herself reverting back to her old demeanor in the band: sitting in the corner of the room watching as the four male producers work their magic in front of the huge console of buttons and sliders. Not that she minded all that much since she was hired as a songwriter, there was nothing in that kind of job description for her to be with the other men producing Harry’s songs.

She knew her place without being told and she’s had years of experience in learning how to be okay with that...but that didn’t stop her mind from dreaming about being up there, moving various sliders, typing away at the desktop computer, and helping fix vocals as they appear in their zigzag form on the screen.

As if hearing her thoughts behind him, YN’s head perks up when Tom—better known as Kid Harpoon—spins around in his seat and beckons her over with a nod of his head.

When Harry comes out of the recording booth, a smile spreads across his face when he sees YN sitting in a swiveling chair with everyone else, clicking away at the desktop mouse as Kid points to the screen. She nods to whatever he’s saying and highlights the recorded vocals to make the needed adjustments.

When Kid sees Harry come up to them, he pipes up, “H, you didn’t tell me we got another producer on our team.”

“Oh, no s’nothing—” 

“I thought you knew,” Harry says in-matter of fact, interrupting YN before she can finish. When she blinks up at him, he nods over to the computer screen. “Wanna show me what you’ve got so far?”

She gives him that smile that has been making his knees weak since he was sixteen years old. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Um, so here’s a bit from the first verse you did earlier...”

As she shows him the work she’s done, it takes him a second to make his eyes stop bouncing around her profile. She speaks so passionately about her work, her eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. The way her plushy lips push and pull with each word has him wanting to reach out to run his thumb over her bottom lip.

After all these years, how has his feelings for her not gone away? 

He thought maybe this time it would be different. They’re not in the band anymore...but with her being hired on as a member of his album-making team, they’re practically co-workers once again. 

Harry pulls his eyes away from her face and looks at the computer screen in hopes to drown out those intrusive thoughts. He just hopes this doesn’t affect their work...shit.

Next Song Here! 👻

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305 @tiaamberxx

#jamaica series #1dbandmember!yn #harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #1yr since since 2010 #harry styles and reader #harry styles writing #harry styles and you #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and famous reader #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x singer!reader #and harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #harry styles masterlist #harry styles concept #harry styles soft #harry styles behind the album

[bnomiko]

Figure collecting: Alucard and the dolls of depression

I was pretty hyped for the Alucard Nendoroid until I saw what accessories he came with…or more importantly, what he didn't come with:

- Heirloom sword - necessary, check - Alucard shield - this is clearly S4 Alucard (who finally got tired of tanking hits with his face), so check - And… a stick! … A stick?! -_- The same plain Jane stick that was used for something like 5 seconds in S2? Whyyy?

Just say no to stick : (

… Where's his depression dolls - the breakout stars of S3!? This is a LONELY man, he needs his dolls damn it! So I decided to remedy that.

** So... presenting my mini Trevor and mini Sypha dolls! **

(Yes the cake reads ALONE - yeah I went there!)

These dolls sit at about ¾" tall. I would've liked them smaller since they're out of scale with the Nendo, but even at this size they were already hard enough to make.

The heads are ¼" diameter wood beads, with nail polish eyes (for a shiny plastic button look), colored pencil details, and embroidery thread hair. The bodies are scrap fabric and embroidery thread, built on half of a box clasp (I really wanted to stuff and sew tiny bodies, but it was impossible because the fabric kept unraveling - the clasp helped provide the structure to stitch the fabric around, plus provided holes to hinge the legs off of). Arms and legs are 18 ga aluminum wire, hammered into tiny "spoons" and "ladles" (which came out more like skimmers or potato mashers).

They're nowhere near perfect but they don't need to be. After all the originals were obviously crafted from scraps as well : )

And since I've seen some cute fanart of Alucard in wolf form carrying the dolls, a bonus! This is actually about the right scale : )

(Le wolf is not Alucard, le wolf is Toriko's Terry Cloth : p Close enough?)

***

BONUS: here's my fanart take on Alucard receiving his dolls : )

#castlevania #alucard castlevania #castlevania netflix #alucard #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #nendoroid #action figures

[minnesota-fats]

I was rereading a Dead Marvel x Danny Phantom crossover ( last updated in 2014, RIP ) called Marvel Phantom by Slayer Anderson, and here is the Summary.

So...the Fentons punch a hole through to the afterlife in their basement, and develop unparalleled hover technology and...they're crackpots?

In that fic, that gets played seriously because they showed their tech and a brief glimpse of the Ghost Zone to the News for an interview on their studies and everyone on the planet, from Companies to the Military, wants their tech.

Like they made a physic cancelers shd gravity inverters for their hover machines to study ghosts, not knowing that what they did went beyond groundbreaking and make every technology look like it came from the stone age.

That they are actually geniuses that do genius things despite being 'kooky.'

And you know what, that author is right. Are there any other stories out there where someone stops and says 'You built a what in your basement that did what?!

Sure, Amity is Amity which deals with weird supernatural shit, so they get a pass on not actually stopping and thinking that, but what's everyone else excuse?

Suddenly imagine everyone knows about FentonTech and what they can do.

Remember the Fenton Crammer that can shrink humans and inanimate objects? And if a ghost gets shrunk, their powers get weaker? That can be very useful to transport stuff that would had taken time and money.

Or how they have a what's basically a futuristic tank for a RV that has a lot of space?

Or that they have an Emergency Ops Center on their home that can turn into a hover vehicle.

All of the anti-ghost weapons.

I can go on and on, but things can get funny/ hairy real fast.

Wayne Ent, Lex Corp, Cadmus, every military will want a generous piece of that Fenton Pie, with the Fentons going, what's the big deal? We only made this for ghosts and shit. Whatever happened because of that was a happy accident.

Also imagine Lex Luthor about to pop a blood vessel, and holding himself back from throttling Jack during a talk .

Lex: 'Let me get this straight. You built a pocket-sized mini nuclear reactor that can power the US for six generations at full capacity and still have the juice to power an extra two, and instead of using that to for the betterment of mankind and showing those aliens ( cough Superman cough ) their place, you use it to power a pastry machine homemade peanut butter FUDGE!?'

Jack: Gourmet peanut butter fudge! :D it even makes pies and cookies. That nice Superhero with that A on his chest sure loved the Apple Pie it made!

Luthor: *collaspes and start to foam at the mouth out of rage, shock and disbelief*

Vlad that was sitting at a corner: *Sniff*. 'Welcome to my world.'

Bro this is HILARIOUS!!!!

This is the type of chaos I LIVE FOR!

I know little to nothing of Alex Luther other than the fact that he is a xenophobe…. And that he got cancer from being a xenophobe. (Ha! that’s how it should be for racists and such(jk cancer is actually really bad and not a joke))

He would just be MAD that these social idiots would have been able to go all of this with NO FUNDING!

Like seriously where did they get the money to do this crap????

Also Vlad crying in the corner is so funny to me, the grown ass man being a pouty bitch cuz he can’t have a woman he simpped for for 20 plus years!

Wish I could add more but I can’t possibly think of what else to add other than this.

#dc x dp #dc x dp fic ideas #lex luthor #bruce wayne #cadmius project #fenton parents #jack and maddie fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #they are mad scientist #also #they are mad for each other #hehe #cute #fun #:3 #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc au #marvel #marvel x dp #not my fave but you know #because yes #batman #Superman

[stealingyourbones]

Can we talk about how if jason and jazz got married and had a family (most of their kids would prolly be adopted), jazz would be the super successful breadwinner of the family and jason would perfectly fill the role of domestic housewife. He would mother hen SO HARD and he would love every minute of it. Three of his kids would climb him like a jungle gym while he did house chores like vacuuming and dishes and he would unironically drive a minivan everywhere. Jason = ideal housewife plz and ty

Jason? Housewife? I mean I can tell where you’re coming from fanon version of the guy but if you wanna do comic version of Jason, the dude would rather help Bruce on a mission than stay at home all day. Let me see what I can do because I mostly know Jason from when he was straight up a villain in comics.

Ok so he never really had a good father figure that shows what a dads meant to do. All of the stuff he knows is from asking friends on what to do, parenting books, Alfred, and books he’s read as a kid. Jason would be positively floundering with raising a bunch of kids at first. He’s good with kids so he does that just fine but dealing with kids for a long period of time? That takes some work. He doesn’t know what a normal kid is meant to do and what he can tell them. He grew up on Crime Alley and then became a billionaires ward. That’s quite the wild childhood living situation. What age do kids normally learn how to cook? How to lie? How to defend themselves? What are normal hobbies people have? All of these questions just swirl in Jason’s brain as he does his best to give his kids a normal life.

Jazz is the breadwinner while Jason is getting a solid 40% cut from mobs in his territory? I’d love a job that pays that much. I don’t think she’d be the breadwinner but Jazz definitely does a normal 9-5 job while Jason does stuff more at night. Jason staying with their kids during the day while Jazz is out of the house makes sense in that case. He spoils the hell out of his kids. He’s a massive pushover and does everything be can to prevent his kids from turning out like him.

He absolutely wouldn’t fit into your stereotypical role of housewife stuff. Still, imagining a 6ft tall 225lbs man of pure muscle and scars taking his kids to a local park and sitting on a park bench watching his kids run around and play while absentmindedly flipping a butterfly knife open and closed at incredible speed. Or threatening a kid who’s bullying his child with a whole ass Glock and then instantly switching to caring for his kid who got punched and checking them for injuries is some lovely mental imagery.

Additionally: Jason going to parent teacher conferences and forcing the school to implement disability accommodations classes for the teachers because one of his kids slightly mentioned that his teacher didn’t let him have extra time to work on his test like they should have. Casually cleaning his teeth with one of the scariest fucking knives you’ve ever seen while meeting with one of his kids friends parents. Bullying the principal to invite a mystery guest speaker to his kids schools for an Anti Drug PSA and low and behold, Red Hood walks into the school gymnasium and does a fucking incredible one man play and an almost poetic speech on the effects of drugs and how it can impact your families.

When his kids realize that they can simply climb on him and he doesn’t mind their weight they start doing it constantly. They scramble up his legs onto his shoulders and just sit there while Jason cooks dinner. The only sign that Jason acknowledges the kids presence is to warn them to not put their feet near the stove and to ruffle their hair when they get settled on his shoulders.

Jason not only has a mini van, it’s one of the most decked out mini vans to ever exist. This thing is built like a covert batmobile. You could take on an army of tanks with this car but he simply uses it to weave around traffic like a madman driving his kid to ice skating school.

Jason absolutely isn’t the ideal housewife but he’s a housewife that you Do Not wish to fuck with. You touch his kids and that’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #dc #dp x dc #writing prompts #prompts #dp x dc prompt #Jason Todd #bones replies #anon #Jason is the housewife with around 30 hidden weapons on his person #Jason is the most intimidating caretaker you’ll ever see

[noorpersona]

Broken Telephone Pt. 2

It’s been a couple of days since your chat with Kugisaki, and it was safe to say it was the absolute last thing on your mind. Right now, much more important tasks are taking up your thoughts.

“Oi, Itadori, how big is the difference between oranges and clementines?” The grocery store light flickers slightly above you, but it doesn’t take your focus off the shelf of ingredients. You hear his heavy sigh fill the aisle, breaking the serene music playing through the speakers of the store.

“How should I know?” His voice sounded tired, but maybe it’s because you dragged him grocery shopping at ten PM.

In your defence, you hadn’t realized how barren your mini fridge and shelf were until nine.

You make a sound of agreement. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have expected an answer from someone like you.” Itadori makes an offended noise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stand up straight, ignoring his question. “I’ll just get both then.” You say to yourself, taking a small bag of both fruits and putting them in the basket Itadori was holding, full of an assortment of other products. You see him narrow his eyes at you.

“Why did you bring me out here again?” He asks, following you to the checkout counter. “Is it not obvious? I needed someone to hold my stuff.” You start taking stuff out of the basket, handing them to the tired-looking clerk, who was looking at the two of you with eyes of distaste, clearly upset for making them have to work.

“You realize I’m not your butler right?” You don’t answer right away, giving the money to the clerk and taking the bags of your groceries in turn, passing a few to Itadori, which he takes, despite his previous statement. It makes you smile slightly, eyes turning to tease.

“Oh, are you sure? I was going to bake you a cake as thanks later…” While it sounded like a jest, you were being completely truthful. Baking had become somewhat of a hobby lately. It brought a calm to you, and in the life that you’re in, it was definitely a welcomed feeling.

The doors of the grocery store open automatically, making a little noise as you walk past the sensor, and onto the clear street. Moon shining brightly on the street, the night sky clear without a cloud in sight.

“I don’t think I want a cake from someone who doesn’t even know the difference between basic fruits…” You laugh a little, nudging him playfully, and he just gives you a warm smile in return. You both start your somewhat long walk back to the school in silence, with you basking in the serenity of the night, making your chest warm in comfort.

“Hey…” Itadori starts, and you hum.

“Do you really find Fushiguro more attractive than me?”

The nice feeling in your chest you’d felt was gone in an instant. You’ve stopped walking and whipped your head to Itadori, face a little more flushed than you would’ve thought. Itadori’s face is impressively passive for the question he just asked. It makes you all that more flustered.

“W-what?! Where the hell did that come from?”

“Kugisaki told me.” His short reply caused you to grit your teeth and clench your fists, the plastic bags in your grasp stretching from the tension. Now would be a good example of when your shamelessness was a bad thing.

Damn it all.

“I swear to-“

“She meant it as an insult, but I don’t really mind it. You were never my type either.” He cuts you off, “Though I never would’ve thought you’d like someone like Fushiguro…” Your face flushes harder.

“What’s that supposed to-“

“But I really need to know,” Itadori interjects again, looking away and putting his hand on his chin, the groceries in his hand swaying from the movement. “Did you really tell Kugisaki that you wouldn’t mind being fucked seven ways to Sunday by Fushi-“

You knew that Itadori was built like a tank, and even without cursed energy, he was a beast. So realistically, nothing would’ve happened if you whipped him with your boatload of groceries.

Which is why you put a little bit of cursed energy into it.

The result led him to pause and let out a gruntled noise, clutching his stomach in somewhat agony. Had he known it was coming, it probably wouldn’t have done anything.

But the element of surprise is incredibly deadly.

“What sack load of shit are you spewing? I never said any of that!” You couldn’t look at him, far too mortified at the words he’d said. Fucked seven ways to Sunday… Are you kidding me Kugisaki?

You’d never admit that those words sounded somewhat appealing though.

“So you don’t like Fushiguro then?” Itadori appears at your side, fully recovered like ten seconds ago didn’t happen. Damn his resilience…

“I-“ You hesitate, trying to figure a way out of this situation. His observing eyes weren’t helping either. By the time fifteen seconds went by, you realized that you’d taken too long to answer the question, and therefore already giving him the answer he asked for.

But you’ll be damned if you didn’t try to dig yourself out of the hole you’re in.

“I like him a normal amount. And you’re allowed to find people attractive without having feelings for them.” You clear your throat, finally resuming the path to the school. “Come on, we’re already late.” You fail to see the sly smile form on Itadori’s face as he catches up with you, deciding to let the subject rest for now.

Not without one last jest though.

“If it makes you feel any better, Kugisaki and I think you’d be good together. You’d have very antisocial children though.” He didn’t need to see your face to know that you were blushing. You push him away from you, causing him to laugh a little. You huff at his antics.

“Shut up. You’re not allowed to joke with me like this. You lost that privilege after you ‘died’.”

“Huh?! Are you still not over that?” His voice turns whiny. You hold your annoyance firm.

“I hold grudges when it benefits me.” Itadori clicks his tongue.

“You’re mean like Fushiguro too. You’re practically made for each other.” You hear Itadori mutter that last bit, and you keep your face forward to try and make it seem like you’ve already gotten over the extremely embarrassing moment.

“Shut the hell up or you’ll be carrying all my groceries.” He laughs out loud again, cutting into the silence of the streets. During the whole way back you still hear him snicker now and then.

Oh, Kugisaki is going to pay for this.

#jujutsu kaisen #writing #fanfic #drabble #jjk x y/n #megumi x reader #itadori x reader #jjk x reader #humour #lol

[inbabylontheywept]

Hold Your Breath and Burn

Seventeen hours.

Seventeen hours of sitting in his ruined craft, waiting for the carrier to send someone out to save his sorry ass. Seventeen hours of praying that he’d get out before the waste heat from his scrammed piece of shit reactor officially crossed the line from wring-out-your-underwear to meat-falls-off-the-bone. Seventeen hours of praying he was gonna make it.

And now with one blip of radio noise he knew he was gonna die.

Honestly, it was almost a relief.

He punched in a message through the QRAM system.

Hunter-Seeker nearby. Just caught an IFF ping. Being used as bait. Abort rescue.

A drop of sweat rolled down his nose as he waited for a response. He considered letting it drop to the floor. No need to draw this out any more than he already had.

The computer chirped at him. He almost hadn’t expected a response. Any time spent on him would essentially be wasted.

It was oddly comforting to know that they were willing to waste time on a dead man. Helped him feel less like a casualty on a spreadsheet. There was something human about knowing that someone would waste time on you.

He checked the message.

I’m sorry.

He shrugged. What else could be said? He was sorry too. Dying sucked. He’d bitched a lot about living, but honestly, it was starting to look like a pretty great deal.

He cut his self-pity short before it could even grow roots.

He leaned over the QRAM, suddenly tired.

Now what?

There was a longer pause. No sweat dribbled down his nose. He was glad for the reprieve, even if he knew what it signaled.

Hunt-Seekers are dangerous threats.

An obvious statement. Borderline cagey. Something about it made his hackles rise. He waited to see if another message would arrive.

One did.

Would you be willing to make one more sacrifice for mankind?

Ah.

He mulled the question over. Considered every reason he should say no. Considered every way to say no.

Will it hurt?

There was no pause in the response to this. The immediacy was frightening. He’d hoped there’d be something couched in there, but the straightforwardness moved him.

Yes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He wasn’t dead yet.

So be it.

---

The plan was surprisingly simple. Completely unsurvivable, but simple.

First, he would vent the cabin. He had an emergency O2 tank that would last for approximately three minutes. The safest speed that the cabin could be vented at was a little under fifteen minutes. That wasn’t possible, so they’d have to rush the job and see how he made it. The goal was to take exactly as long as the tank would last, and then hold his breath for the last part, because it would, in theory, be very short.

Step two would be overriding the reactor scram. The boric acid would be pumped directly into space, and the reactor would flair up to 1200 F. That was actually the primary reason they needed to vent the atmosphere first: To cool the interior cabin enough that the reactor wouldn’t simply incinerate him in the first five seconds.

Lastly, he would activate a mini-jump. If he was lucky, the Hunter-Seeker would only detect the exit blast, and warp to the end of his FTL cone. It would then drift through space, lost and confused, for at least several seconds. He’d use those last few moments to consider his life up to that point. Then, the reactor would run out of built up xenon.

The rest would be physics.

Are you ready?

The operator's final message hung in the air. Was he ready? Could anyone be ready for this?

Yes.

Pull the trigger. I'm gonna be the first person in two-hundred years to give Oppenheimer a hug on my first day in hell.

---

Another blossom of crimson splattered across his vision as the pressure gauge crept below zero point two atmospheres. He had no idea what the depressurization was doing to his body, but it hurt like hell. The vac-suit was clinging to his body like saran wrap now, damn near tight enough to break a rib, and it still wasn’t done.

He snuck another peek at the pressure gauge.

Zero point zero five.

He went to suck another shaky breath from the tank and found nothing left. His vision was already fading in at the corners. This was even harder than he’d thought.

He stared at the gauge and willed the last bit of air away.

Zero.

Finally.

He leaned across the console and hit the override on the reactor core.

---

The reactor did not roar to life. There was no air to carry the sound, no messenger in this void save light. And the message that light carried was not thunder, no roaring in the canyons, but heat and pain. The energy didn’t flow out of the reactor like it did in air, it was an immediate, searing, flash of agony.

He couldn’t tell if the vacsuit was melting into his skin, or if his skin was melting into the suit, but he could feel a dreadful wetness across his back, the one part of his body exposed to the war god slinging him through space. He barely noticed the sensation of warping, barely noticed the first hesitant blip that appeared on his LADAR screen.

But barely was still enough.

It worked. The stupid son-of-a-bitch had fallen for it. The Hunter-Seeker set a destination at the end of his warp cone and jumped blind. It was catastrophically lazy, and even as his lungs burned from lack of air, even as his back burned with the blowtorch heat of a dying reactor, he knew that he’d won. There was nothing left to do now but wait.

He looked through the display that pretended to be a window to the outside. Imagined the stars, beautiful and gleaming, suspended over the vastness of space. He saw the faint white shine of the reactor reflected across that glossy screen, felt that half numb pain of fire across his entire back, and imagined that last bit of xenon trapped inside, fading away, lost in the sea of neutrons. Fading, fading… gone.

He could almost swear that the flash of light began right there, right as he imagined it would. He died then, ripped apart on a level that few can scarcely imagine, but for one brief moment before death took him, his underwear was dry in the same elegantly understated sense that space is cold and stars are warm. Four hundred kilograms of highly enriched uranium going supercritical is a magical thing.

The Hunter-Seeker never had its moment to look death in the face. All it knew was that in the space where a carrier should have been, it was alone. And then it too was gone. In the space where it used to be, where it had been, there was little more than echoes of fire and heat.

And then those too faded to black.

#humanity fuck yeah #hfy #science fiction #humans are space orcs #see you in hell

[f10werfae]

A Week in the life of THE EVANS

Pairing: Husband! Chris Evans × Gothic! Reader

Word count: 1,729

Summary: Y/n and Chris show off their new marriage, the only way they know how, via youtube

Warnings: none

———

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

———-

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“Hi babies, this week is a very special week, because I know you guys have been very excited for this!” I smiled holding up my vlogging camera, my jet black hair and visible piercings shining in the light.

“So as you know, Chris and I just got married a few months ago, and there have been soooooo many comments asking about the differences in our aesthetics and how we make it work”

Walking over to Chris who was sitting on our bed, I put my cheek to his as I squeezed him tightly squealing in the process. His arms going around my waist to catch me.

“Chris and I are going to show you part of our week, well just the interesting parts anyway, SO STAY TUNED BABIES!!” With Chris and I both waving into the camera, I shut it off, feeling Chris relax and pull me closer so I was on his lap.

(DAY 1 - HUSBAND PICKS MY CLOTHES?!)

“Hey guys so today, i’m on the way to the mall to go see Chris because he said something urgent came up” I said to the camera as I walked to the mall after locking my car, obviously getting strange looks from randomers around me.

“Now where is this hunk of a man… AH THERE HE IS” I flipped the camera to show Chris standing by a clothes shop, waving frantically at me in his stupid disguise of a hat and sunglasses.

“Awk isn’t he just adorable?” I pouted, walking over to him, the camera on my face.

“Hey baby, what’d you need me for” Chris' arms pulled me in for a hug, his lips going to their usual place on my temple.

“Well, I found some of these clothes, thought they’d look nice on ya”

He said excitedly, bringing me to the back of the store, collecting the garments he had hidden behind other clothes.

“You’re such a sneak baby, hiding those clothes for me?”

“Of course, can’t let anyone steal 'em off ya”

“Okay hold on to the camera while I go try these on ok?”

“Gotcha” With a quick kiss, Chris had now turned into the vlogger, the camera at a weird angle as he figured out how to flip the camera

“Ah there we go, now you can see me”

Trying on the first black mini tennis skirt, it already had a thick built in belt which had a buckle, the thick denim fitting snug around my waist accentuating my body's curves.

“Alright you ready hun?” I asked through the changin room curtains

“As ready as I’ll ever be”

Stepping out of the changing room, I did a half twirl to show him the back of the skirt, his jaw dropping as the camera dropped to his side.

“Now you are one hot chick”

“CHRIS!”

“Am not lyin babe, those would look great with the boots I got you from Dollskill”

“You are so right”

“Bend over though, let me see if it’s too short” He smirked at me

“You are such an ass, don’t forget we’re still filming by the way hun”

Comments:

Chrisevansleftboob: Get yourself a man that SHOPS FOR YOU 😭😭

Marvelgal681: How can I have such a big crush on two people

Y/nsteponme: NAH BECAUSE THAT COULDA BEEN ME!!

Captaingothchick: Are we all thinkin the same thing as to how the video ended 😃😏

(DAY 2- OUR EXPERIENCE WITH PIERCINGS)

(Chris' P.O.V)

“Hey guys Chris Evans here, now I am so thankful for such an amazing outcome for Y/n's first vlog with us. So today I wanted to be in charge, so come with me as we go annoy Y/n”

Walking towards the bathroom, I saw my gorgeous wife, adorning a black tank top and the black mini skirt from yesterday. It was taking me everything in my system to not lay a hand on that ass, my gosh.

“Chris are you filming?” Y/n asked looking at me in the camera, one soapy eye open as she was taking off her makeup.

“Yes bub, thought I’d film our routine that we do every first Tuesday of the month”

“hmm alright, do you wanna get the saline solution out”

Once I set the camera up on the tripod, I walked to our drawers and pulled out the saline solution and tissues, laying them out nicely on the counter.

“Okay baby, you ready” I asked looking down as I stood behind her, my hands settled on her waist.

“Mhm, you know what ones to do right?”

“Yes ma'am”

Turning her towards me, I lifted her tank top up to her breast, revealing her white belly button piercing.

Getting down onto my knees, I kissed her stomach softly, before unscrewing the ball and removing the bar; putting it onto the widespread tissue.

“1 Down, lots to go” I whispered to myself

Standing up to face her again, she smiled up at me adorably, my next point of action was her nose ring. Kissing her nose cutely, I manoeuvred the ring out and took the stud out that was on the other side.

“Ok hair up baby” After she had pulled her hair into a makeshift ponytail, I skilfully removed her industrial, helix and earlobe piercings. As the sound of metal clanking filled the room along with my random kisses

I just can’t control myself when it comes to her.

“Alright guys, that’s all we can show on camera, but her nipples and Christina are next on the list”

“CHRIS YOU CANT SAY THAT”

With a wink I shut off the camera, already seeing my wife revealing her breasts to me to take out her bars.

“Hell I love you” I growled pulling her in

Comments:

Rabbit991: YALL THE CHRISTINA PIERCING IS LIT A PIERCING ON HER COOCHIE? I KNEW THIS COUPLE WAS SPICY AS HELL

Y/nfangirl: Okay but where did she find a guy that is willingly to do stuff like this?

ScottyEvans: You guys gross me out, KEEP IT TO THE BEDROOM COME ON😝

-> Y/nEvans: Dont worry dear brother, we did eventually 🦇

——> Marvelgal681: IM CHOKING RIGHT NOW

(DAY 3- ALL TATTED UP)

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“Hey my babies, today i’m at my friend Stacy's tattoo parlour because newsflash i’m getting a new tat”

“ what about this one?” Chris said off to the side, he was helping me choose the design

“Actually baby, I was hoping you’d design my tat”

“WAIT WHAT” Chris said now appearing in frame, his face paralysed in shock.

“Yeah here’s the drawing pad, just get to it man” Stacy smiles handing over her pad and pen, Chris' shaking hands taking them in

“Ok but the catch is bub, I don’t see it until it’s done” I smiled devilishly, his mouth dropping even further.

“I can’t believe this, i didn’t know this marriage would be so short lived” Chris chuckled turning his back to me as her started scribbling, deciding to leave him to it I just started updating the camera on my future streaming and video schedules

(A Few hours later)

“Ok bub i’m ready to see it”

“Listen before we do this, know that I love you very much and there’s a reason that I didn’t go to art school” Chris said nuzzling his head into my neck, careful to avoid the new tat on my ribcage directly underneath my breast

“i’ll love it either way hun, believe me” Cupping his face in my hands I kissed his nose before turning to the side.

Chris' hands went to pull the bandage off and once I saw what had been put on me, I just burst into tears

“Wait are you crying, baby i’m so sorry it was stupid i know” Chris rushed out, pulling my head to his chest as I let out tiny cries.

“I l-love it” I sniffled peering up at him, knowing damn well my eyeliner was probably halfway down my face.

The tattoo was the perfect size, a tiny cartoon version of dodger in a ghost costume.

Comments:

Monkeynuts26: Ok but that tattoo is actually amazing, looks like he can draw

Evansfam123: I SWEAR DODGER IS LIKE THEIR SON ITS TOO MUCH FOR MY HEART 😭

Jessicaburns_: Ok maybe I can let go of my crush for chris evans. JUST FOR HER

tigerstrip: NO BUT IMAGINE HOW THEIR BABY ROOM WOULD TURN OUT AND THE BABYS CLOTHES

—-> Y/nlovesbats: I NEED TO SEE THAT ASAP

(DAY 4- DYE OR DIE)

“Hey babies, today i’m dying my hair to a cotton candy pin-“

“Hey I thought I was doing it” Chris pouted, already mixing the chemicals behind me, blue latex gloves struggling to hold themselves together around his hands.

“Yes baby you are don’t worry” I reassured tilting my head back, tapping my fingers lightly on the bathroom counter

“Okay get your towel around you honey, and let me get into the zone”

“You do know what you’re doing hub right?”

“Of course baby, did you not see how I cut Scott's hair last time?” He said acting offended

“Sorry sorry, I love you” I sneaked out watching as cheeses out a smile but still trying to hold together his poker face.

“oo thats cold” I shivered, the first slap of dye being combed and brushed through my hair, at the sound of my complaint, Chris' free warm hand instantly rubbed up and down comfortingly creating heat.

“Ok now that i’ve covered your hair in it, how long do we wait?”

“I’ll jus let you know baby, I know you’re DYING to get back to your football” Laughing out from my pun, I stood up to press a hot kiss to his lips only to hear him groan when he realised some of the dye had transformed to him

“You’re lucky I love your sweet ass”

Comments:

Buckyforme: DID NO ONE ELSE PEEP THE PREGNANCY TEST BOX IN THE TRASH? DO WE HAVE AN EVANS BABY?

-> Diamondssky: YOO I WAS THINKING THAT TOO, IT SEEMS PRETTY RECENT SINCE ITS AT THE TOP

Evansfam123: Ok but get you someone that looks at you the way they look at each other, they’re for real soulmates

Feverrush: anyone else remember when Chris turned up to Kimmel with painted nail extensions BECAUSE HE LET Y/N PRACTICE ON HIS ASS

Tubbishlove: Ok but that pregnancy test is STARING AT US IN THE EYES

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #romance #chris evans #chris evans oneshot

[wyrddogs]

I'll make a separate post for my show complaints so I don't take away from the boys' accomplishments.

Complaint #1: The club did not hire ring stewards. I'm not sure what was going through their heads. So my friends and I stepped in, and instead of getting to hang out and enjoy not working for once, we worked all day. We also trained club members on how to ring steward, since no one knew how. The club did not offer us discounts; we paid full price. They did give us a slice of pizza each and a slice of cheesecake, so that's better than nothing.

Complaint #2: I'm officially tired of having negative experiences with dachshund people. The instant I stepped out of the ring with Kermit, the owner of the class bitch (a mini wirehair) walked up to me and said, "Nice dog, he's fat though." I was taken aback, and explained that he is not, in fact, fat, he's just built like a tank, but you can still feel his ribs. Kermit was in my arms at the time, and she reached over and grabbed the skin of his waist and said, "I can tell he's fat! Right here!"

She's lucky neither of us bit her. I finally just walked away so I didn't do something I'd regret. I demanded one of my friends give their honest opinion on his body condition and they agreed with me that Kermit is just a very stocky, compact dog without much loin and with very broad shoulders and barrel ribs. He is not fat.

#sportsmanship #my angry tag

[jojotichakorn]

archer rewatches nlmg: episode 11

i kinda love that palm came so close to considering killing tanya. there is something very meaty, very juicy there.

hey, we're not catholic here. thinking about doing something and doing it are very different things.

absolutely insane and diabolical, i love it

literally one of my favourite mini-eras of their relationship. palm as an official personal bodyguard. they also look sooooooo fucking hot, just look at them!!!

i desperately want to analyse their fashion sense in-depth because i am obsessed with it. and it feels intentional. palm is genuinely stylish. his current change in status just built off of what he always wears, so he simply has a jacket on top of his standard tasteful hawaiian shirt and white low cut tank-top, he always accessorises and has a variety of bracelets and necklaces he wears as well. meanwhile, nueng is very much "i know which items of clothing i should wear for which occasion and... that's it", so he goes for a regular short-sleeved top + shorts pairing on the island and now wears a very straightforward suit and tie combo, and it all very much gives off a "someone else bought all these clothes for me and i'm just throwing together whatever my eyes fall on first" vibe.

well, i have good news for you, kit. a little while longer and you won't have to imagine what it's like when you son sends you to rot and die in prison :)

don't mind me, i'm just trying to figure out how short i am in comparison to pond (results: devastating)

and thank gods for that

gjdflkgjkdf friend? they su[gunshot]

speaking of fashion, chopper's looks are also very stylish and very intentional like!! idk, i wanna talk to the costume designers of this thing asap.

*chanting* PAT-RI-CIDE PAT-RI-CIDE PAT-RI-CIDE

PERTH IS SO FUCKING GOOD I SWEAR TO GODS

look at him, gushing to his mom about his boyfriend, he is so happy with palm and so in love with him 🥹

babe, i know you're insane, but everything should have limits. you are staying together forever or else. this is a threat.

thinking of palm daydreaming about dancing with nueng, when they were dancing with other people. thinking of palm dancing with nueng, when he was drunk and grieving his mom and about to lose nueng. seeing them finally dancing together happily, making plans for the future, promising to never leave each other again.

again, when is it my turn

i'm obsessed with nueng's personality growth btw. babygirl is literally being held hostage and he is laughing in kit's face lmao.

#never let me go #archer rewatches nlmg: ep 11 #long post