#fucking matryoshka looking ass
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My Tikhonov
Spartak made a video of this title for Tikhonov's 50th anniversary and invited a bunch of old men to lick his balls.
At the beginning, Spartak's former head coach Oleg Romantsev, who fucked all his players because that's what all coaches do, notices Andrey doesn't look 50 and says he looks good, sporty.
"Andrey himself is a physically tough guy, he has charisma and power" — in his strong hands you no longer wanna be Spartak's captain, you wanna be the little forest creature you are.
"If he had an offer from England (and maybe he did: no one knows), he would have tried his hand there. I regret Andrey didn't manage to play abroad" — old man still can't come to terms with the fact Mourinho didn't take his 32-year-old ass to Chelsea. On a cold night, he dreams of Andrey Tikhonov fucking him on the grass of Stamford Bridge.
"Reliable, you can always rely on him. No matter what my wish is, he will always fulfill it. This tells a lot about his human qualities" — did he agree to have a threesome with your brother?
"We were three midfielders, that's why we communicated so closely. And you correctly noted that when I left, Andrey Tikhonov probably felt sad, so he had a desire to immediately replace me with someone. That's why he has such a friendship with Egor" — I thought in your trio you were always fucked, and Tikhonov and Titov both fucked you. So how can Egor fully replace you? But if we recall that photo of Tikhonov behind a row of matryoshkas, where your matryoshka can fit in his, and Titov's one in yours... It definitely adds some colours to the picture.
"We mostly travelled around Europe together. But I'll reveal the secret we're planning to go to South Africa, Tanzania this year in December. And I hope if no epidemic reaches us, the three of us will fly there" — without your three wives, five(?) sons and three daughters, just the three of you? What were you gonna do there? Develop South African football? Play tennis?
"Andrey really likes to smoke hookah. Now he's allowed to do this because he doesn't have to play football the next day. So his love for hookah, of course, surprises me a bit. When we're on vacation together in Europe and Andrey is looking for a place to eat, he will definitely choose a place that has hookah. Although he once offered me to smoke a hookah and I didn't like it. Yeah, I did not share his passion, and he knows it" — do you like to smoke only his cock? Or was hookah actually a euphemism all the way, and you meant you don't like sucking, but Andrey does?
"There's nothing to hide. We could go to the casino to switch our focus after the games, relax with a glass of wine or beer. We could also play cards without bigotry. Who was the most successful player? I think I was" — I'm not sure that being stripped and fucked on the table means you were successful at playing cards.
"I have one birthday wish for Andrey, I wish him to leave television as soon as possible and run some football team. I will tell him this personally on the 16th" — I hope Tisha answered you with a mirror wish. Your squishy cheeks, tits and belly should be squeezed by your own footballers.
#dmitri alenichev#andrey tikhonov#argh i hate the person who edited the original video#who made them cut off the last syllables of words?#dmitri anatolyevich didn't put on a wedding ring to talk about andrey tikhonov#i'm wondering if daler will give the same interview about mosto in 20 years#will mosto become the living legend of zenit#<- sudden splash of blue lagoon into a rare pork steak#why shouldn't i post cringe
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Accession BO 3 review
Pros:
+map layout and flow is amazing I love it
+Gersch Device is an awesome tactical weapon and looks very pretty
+Once the power is on the map is so stunning and vibrant
+Forgot to mention it in my kino review but the thunder gun is goated for the most part
+One of the best training spots ever in zombies
+Easter egg song is s tier
Cons:
-space monkeys fucking suck ass on solo
-easter egg requires way too much rng without gobble gums this would be brutal
-the desaturated look before you turn on the power makes me sick
-map feels like it's made for multiplayer not solo
-matryoshka dolls kinda suck
-have to mod the game to do easter egg on solo
Overall I think this map is very overrated but enjoyable but could easily be improved if they ever remade it and improved on what makes it annoying as fuck on solo
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domestic shiratorizawa
⊹summary; the life inside the dorms of shiratorizawa
⊹pilots; gn![y/n], ushijima, tendou, semi, yamagata, reon, kawanishi, shirabu, goshiki (pairings showed; yamagata x reader, goshiki x reader)
⊹genre; fluff, crack and some cursings (no proofread)
⊹flight details; i've once made a domestic imagines in my old blog so imma make a small reboot of it <3
random shopping
normal day, normal life. you could've seen yourself laying or even napping in your room while a compilation of minecraft songs plays in the background. but no. instead, you're inside an antique shop with Yamagata, Ushijima and Tendou.
you have no idea when, or how did the process happened but you surely is done with getting dragged inside the shop by Tendou and Yamagata.
while Ushijima's stuck on a section, you don't know where, but he's definitely stuck there, "[y/n]! look at what i found,"
Yamagata called you as you turned around to see him holding up a pretty heavy doll. you raise your brow, "what the hell is that?" walking towards him and taking a closer look at the object in hand,
"i think it's a, um, i think a matryoska doll? matroyska? is that how you say it?" "why're you asking me, i don't know jack shit about russian stuff,"
"ah you mean, matryoshka doll?" Tendou butted in, startling you two, "it's also called a 'nesting doll' and did you actually know that it was actually originated from china?"
Yamagata's eyes practically sparkled at that with a surprised look, "from china? really?"
you can only roll your eyes, "and how can you even know all that?" Tendou snickered and put on a smug face, "i'm actually very smart, y'know. ya'll just don't know about it," "says the person in class 2,"
"i blame the mathematic old hags for adding letters in math, and the apple that fucking hit my man Isaac," you tsk'ed and walk towards the next section. Yamagata passive aggressively put the matryoshka doll down and follow after you along with Tendou,
"also, we need to find ushijima, i think he's stuck in some section between here...ah there," you stopped walking and turn to your right where you find Ushijima reading a book.
Tendou skipped towards him and smack his shoulder, "you okay, wakatoshi-kun? you sure did took longer to look at the stuff here," while Tendou chats with Ushijima, Yamagata look up at the shelves as something caught his eyes.
he tried to reach it while tip toing but due to his height, he can't reach it. then, he jumped from his spot to grab the object but end up hitting his head onto the board, "AGH, FUCK!" which causes you all to look at him, watching him hold his head while shivering from the pain,
"are you okay, yamagata?" ushijima ask, putting back the book on the shelves, "yeah, yeah, i'm just tryna get that," he shakes his head before pointing up.
you followed his finger and caught a glimpse of an old polaroid. it's a little bit dusty but other than that, it looks new. Ushijima reached it from his spot and managed to grab it, "here,"
he hands it to Yamagata as he instantly recovered from his recent pain and snatch it from Ushijima's hand, subtly thanking him with a grin, "why do you even need a polaroid?" Tendou asked, leaning his arm over Ushijima's shoulder with one brow up,
"pfft, for journaling of course,"
a gust of wind went through you while staring at him with a poker face, the same with Tendou with a small cat like smile. Ushijima just looked the same,
"okay," "WHAT'S WITH THE TONE??" you blinked and just knit your eyebrows, "i mean, since when you started journaling? you're not even the type of person to do something aesthetic,"
he pouted and just crosses his arms, "so what? that doesn't mean i can't do it, right? have faith in me god darn it. and honestly, my journal looks good so far," "well, fine,"
you waved your hand at him and continue going through the other section. and just like that, "hey wait!" Yamagata tailed after you.
Tendou snickered at the two and focus back on Ushijima, who's still watching the display yet again, "have you thought of what to buy wakatoshi-kun?" "i'm not sure, there's a lot of interesting stuff here," "well, you've only been in this section but okay~"
studying
"agh, why did those idiots really have to call me at this time...?"
you groaned, slowly walking through the halls with a slouched figure. tracing your fingers along the wall with a dejected look. you're suppose to sleep today.
an hour or two long sleep. it's finally the weekend which means the time for you to sleep all of your problems away. drifting into slumber with fluffy pillows and warm blankets, enjoying your dream as long as you can.
until your ringtone annoyingly rings next to your ear. you answer the call, and again greeted by the most annoying human in the planet,
"[y/n], we need you at the gym right now!"
"huh? oh fuck off Tendou, i need to sleep right now,"
"nuh uh, you can sleep later after you go to the gym,"
"why? are you, i don't know, practicing or something?"
"you have to find out. if you don't move your ass from that bed, we'll send Hayato to wake you up~"
". . ."
and now, you find yourself standing in front of the door of shiratorizawa's volleyball gym. not only that Tendou wakes you up from your sleep, you also had to WALK all the way from your dorm to the gym,
"i'm gonna add more time to their practices after this..."
sliding the door open, you expect them to be doing serves or maybe spikes.
but instead, you're seeing them—as in the 3rd years—all sitting down at the middle of the court, with books around them.
and what's even more confusing is that they somehow managed to bring a table inside. no, not the flip-able table.
literally a whole ass table.
Reon looks up from his book and notices your figure standing on the door way. he waves his hand at you, you did the same but still with a confused look.
Yamagata was next to see you as he abruptly stand up from his spot, shaking the table in the process,
"Hayato! stop shaking the table," "oops, sorry. ah, wait, [y/n]!"
that caught all of the boys attention as they look at you, "what taking you so long to arrive?" Tendou asked, a pen rested in between his upper lip and nose.
Semi smacked him in the face—earning an 'ow'—before shaking his head,
"their dorm is literally far from the gym, and why do you even proposed your idea of studying at the gym anyway?"
you make your way towards them, Reon patting the empty spot next to him. you sat down on your spot as Yamagata did the same. seemed like he was waiting for you.
Tendou rubbed his nose and pouted at Semi, "this was the best place to study anyway! it have much more room,"
"we should've gone to the cafeteria OR the LIBRARY," Semi groaned, looking back at his book before writing on it,
"pfft, the cafeteria's no fun. and i got banned from the library," Reon looks at Tendou with confusion, "well, it's not surprising,"
Tendou shrugged, "i was also banned from the library," Ushijima said, not looking up from his notes as you knit your eyebrows at that,
"you're also banned from the library? Satori, what did you and Ushijima did—" "anyways, um,"
he cut you off, fidgeting with his pen before pointing it at you, "right, you need to tutor us on this subject~!"
you blinked, looking down at the book they're studying about, "haven't the teacher covered this already?"
"well, i'm sorry, class 6. but we have no idea how this thing works. maybe only Reon, but look at Semi,"
Tendou wrapped his arm around Semi's neck, practically head locking him, "he's from class 1 and i think you should teach him about this the most," "I'll rip your fucking head off, Tendou!"
while both of them tried to strangle each other, Yamagata caught your attention next,
"and also, it won't be fun without you, y'know," Reon nodded, "and don't forget that you can't leave me alone in this,"
"oh right," "hm? what was that?" Yamagata asked. you just shake your head with a defeated smile, "nothing..."
after clearing your throat, you snatched Semi's book away before flipping through the pages,
"okay you scumbags, it's time to learn,"
oblivious enough
the birds chirped from the tree, the hallway's as loud as ever. Semi and Tendou's leaning against the window, each of them drinking apple juice and eating yakisoba bread.
it was silence between them before Semi spoke, "hey, Tendou," "yes Semi-Semi?" "y'know,"
Semi turned his head to look at Tendou as the redhead did the same, "have you, noticed the relationship between [y/n] and Yamagata lately?"
the latter made a thinking face, before nodding, "hm, seems so,"
"do you think, either one of them ever noticed about it?" Tendou shakes his head at the question, "nope, i don't think they do. in fact, they might be completely oblivious to it,"
Semi snickered, "right, like that one time..."
"[y/n], do you think my lips are dry right now?"
you look up from your clipboard, seeing Yamagata pointing his lips, "hm, nah. they're fine, but if you want, i can but on some lip balm,"
his eyes sparkled at that as he nodded his head with excitement, "sure!" you walk towards your bag with Yamagata following you. opening the zipper and search inside it, you pull out your lip balm,
"here, hold still," you put a hand on his cheek while the other applies lip balm onto his lips. it was a slow process but he managed to not move at all while making eye contact with you.
once you finished applying, he pop his lips before humming, "mn, cherry," "let me know if you need anything else,"
he nodded with now flushed cheeks as he smile at you. you did the same, gently patting his arm.
from a distance, Shirabu looks at them with a disgusted look, "ugh, can't they be more subtle about it,"
Kawanishi shrugged, "just let them be,"
"how can i redo my memory? i don't need to see that this early," "well, what if it was us?" "i would be twice as grossed, i can put my own lip balm," "hm yeah, you're right, i honestly would be like that too," "good,"
"haha yeah, now that i think about it, they do it all the time right?" Tendou nodded at Semi's statement before hearing the all too familiar voice just a few meters away from them,
"[y/n]!"
you turned your head around while still sipping your drink. Yamagata stood in front of you, holding out his visibly crumpled necktie with a small smile,
"my necktie!" "ah again? whatever," you give your drink to him as he hold it for you.
grabbing the necktie from his hand, looping it around his collar shirt and started tying it with a concentrated look,
"i can't say that it'll be clean when i finished tying it," "it's okay! that's why i'm asking you to do it, messy or not, at least i have it on," "hm, yeah,"
after you finished tying it and patting it a little, Yamagata hugged you, "thank you!" "yeah, you're welcome,"
the aura literally radiates on the slightly crowded hallway as some of the students who passed you talked among themselves.
Semi and Tendou stared at you two, expressionless eyes but with a small smile,
'ah, right,'
Tendou sighed, intertwining his fingers together and lifting it up to his cheeks, "ah, young love~"
"we're all the same age,"
"young love~"
bonus; reliable kouhai
lifeless.
is what goshiki would say when he took a few glances at you from his book. you promised to tutor him about this subject he's struggling on. but didn't really expect to see your slouched form walking inside the library.
he's not even sure if you even hear anything you're saying right now, "get a shovel and two-" your head hit the table, creating a loud sound and catching the attention of almost everyone inside the library,
"[y/n]-senpai, um, are you okay??" you groaned and rapidly blink your eyes, covering your forehead, "yeah, 'm just..."
a yawn escaped from your mouth before you can even finish your sentence, "...tired. those stupid senpais of yours need help tutoring too even tho being grown ass men,"
goshiki closes his book and creating a small 'thump', snapping you out from your mind,
"well, if that so then you didn't have to come, you could've just tell me and i would be fine with it!" your hoarse laugh caught him off guard as a shade of red ran across his cheeks, "i can't break a promise, tsutomu. why do you even think i agree on tutoring you?"
"uh, cause you want to help me with my studies?" "one of it, and cause i enjoy tutoring you," he can feel his cheeks heating up more when you made eye contact with him, a small smile laced upon your face,
"and honestly, you're smarter than i thought. class 4 right? that's cool," he looked away, trying to calm his nerves down, "t-thanks! a lot of people thought i was in a lower class, so i, i appreciate it,"
goshiki took a peek at you, now burying your face onto your face, "also, senpai," "hm?"
"you should take a nap for now, i think i can start understanding this formula," you slightly look up at him, "you sure? i was prolly talking craps just now," "yeah! your health is more important anyway,"
you hum, offering him a warm smile, "thanks, i know i can count on you," you rested onto your side and close your eyes. lips slightly parted and just like that, you're deep in your dreams.
he pursed his lips, slowly leaning against the table to look at your face. it's calm, peaceful and beautiful, kissable lips. he wonder if he could lean in a little closer until you two-
goshiki instantly jolted up and hit himself on the head, face's covered in the color red, 'no! don't think about that, curse you Tendou-San for introducing me to those mangas...'
Tendou's faces ran across his mind as he grunted,
'why're they so pretty??'
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu crack#haikyuu fluff#shiratorizawa#shiratorizawa x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#tendou satori#semi eita#yamagata hayato#reon ohira#kawanishi taichi#shirabu kenjirou#goshiki tsutomu#ushijima x reader#tendou x reader#semi x reader#yamagata x reader#reon x reader#kawanishi x reader#shirabu x reader#goshiki x reader
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matryoshka doll
— Momo is a modern day princess, so it makes sense as to why every single person she’s asked if they wanted to have sex reject her because they felt unworthy. But she’s a girl with carnal needs and if that means having anonymous sex is the only way to have them met, so be it.
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pairing: yaoyorozu momo x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut, stuck in a wall, anal fisting (giving), fingering, marking, degradation, daddy kink!reader, princess!momo, praise, pwp, cursing, service top!reader, phat ass!momo
word count: 3,333
a/n: i stayed up until 4 am reading bkdk angst fanfic and im so, so tired...... momo has a phat ass that is full of stretch marks and cellulite and I drool at the thought of it. no I dont take any feedback on that.
kinktober day 9 main kink: anonymous sex | kinktober masterlist
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Momo has a secret.
A deep, dark, twisted secret.
It wasn’t so much that it was horrible, humiliating, or even a nuisance for all of humanity, but it definitely was a secret she was keen on keeping until she was six feet under.
Why was that?
Oh, well, you see, it involved one of the most taboo topics in the world: sex.
Yaoyorozu Momo lived a sheltered, elite life. At the tender age of four, she had managed to create an object by replicating a Matryoshka doll's exact molecular structure. She didn’t need to assume that most individuals couldn't compose the doll's molecular structure regardless of their intellect or education. Yet, with a determined gaze, her person and mind no much older than four years old, she succeeded in producing a single, lone, beautiful Matryoshka doll.
But, because of her natural-born intelligence and near-prodigious level thinking, the wealth that her parents held led her to a life where something such as a peck on the cheek was considered scandalous.
Kissing on the lips was considered a "marriage only" rule, and sex wasn’t even a word she knew.
Middle school for Yaoyorozu Momo consisted of her and her private tutors within her home. Her education was created just for her, and she had evening outings with her similar circles to ensure she had an appropriate social life. All in all, Momo didn’t know what sex was until she was sixteen, sitting in the common area of the dorm room with all her female friends who casually brought up the idea of what they could potentially be into, of who they would. Momo would quote: fuck, marry, or kill of three randomly generated boys within the class.
Of course, Momo’s eyes fluttered at the word fuck, having already known it as a curse word, and only as such as Bakugou always seemed to be yelling it. She had wrongfully spluttered when Mina had wiggled her eyebrows at Uraraka on why, oh why she had only chosen to ‘fuck Midoriya’ and not marry him. To Momo, who also at the time, was aware of her current blossoming feelings towards the smart but somewhat flutter tongued classmate of theirs, had been rather confused at the results Uraraka gave too.
“Kill… uh, Iida-kun,” Urakaka fidgeted, blushing harder under the intense stares of Mina and Hagakure (who had a mean glare despite not being able to see her). “Fuck Deku-kun, marry Todoroki-kun!”
Momo had assumed she would wish to marry her at the time crush, not choose the option to curse him out!
“Uraraka-san, you wish to cuss out Midoriya-san?” Momo had asked, saving the naturally rosy girl from their pink-skinned and invisible friend. “Why is that?”
“Hold on?” Jirou interrupted immediately, Momo’s undoubtedly closest friend rose from her slouched position next to her, her hand placed on her shoulder. “What was that?!”
“Well, isn’t the, ahem, please excuse my vulgar words, ‘fuck,’ option meaning to curse someone out? As Bakugou-san does to many people when he uses that word?” Momo had asked so innocently, so purely that the girls all almost felt horrible for popping the innocent bubble the modern-day princess was in -- keyword: almost.
For the first time in her life, Yaoyorozu Momo was not the most knowledgable in a subject; her cheeks stained red with embarrassing heat when Tsuyu took charge of explaining the alternate definition to what ‘fuck’ meant.
“You mean babies don’t come in storks?!” she had cried uncontrollably that night. She was utterly overwhelmed by this new level of information that would send her in a spiral of the need to acquire further details for the sake of education and, well, yes, the science of fucking.
From the moment she was sixteen until she was twenty, Momo’s knowledge of sex went from being the lowest in the class, to as it naturally should have been, the most knowledgable person on it. She knew of things, the different branches of sex, where to experience certain types of kinks, and theoretically, where the human body's best parts to touch when having sex. So, the moment she had turned of consenting legal age to have sex, Momo would be lying if she said she wasn’t ready to have sex.
But there was something in her way, something that not even years of studying could help her with, or could change the circumstances of which she found herself in. It seemed that though her friends enjoyed her sudden new-found genius towards the art and science behind sex, no one thought of her as a… sexual being.
“I c-can’t have sex with you!” Jirou had flushed red, her eyes scattering to every edge of the room, refusing to look at the wealthy heiress who had asked her best friend over during their last week of high school to do the deed. “You’re the modern-day royalty: Yaoyorozu Momo! I’m not… qualified enough!”
Momo frowned, “Oh?”
.
..
.
“Sex?” Todoroki had echoed, his eyes alarming wide despite his composed, neutral expression. Momo nodded her head, ignoring the small wisp of fire that emitted from his hair. “Oh, well, I don’t think I can do that for you, Yaoyorozu. It’s nothing against you, but I don’t think I’d like to have meaningless sex with you for the first time.”
Momo winced, “Oh, okay.”
“That sounded a lot meaner then intended, I apologize.”
.
..
…
..
.
And that’s how it seemed to go.
Aoyama hadn’t been interested in having sex at all with Momo. Mina said she was severely unworthy. Tsuyu simply rejected her because their relationship wasn’t one that had possibilities of sexual encounters. Iida said it would be irresponsible of him to take something of value of hers. Uraraka cried about how inferior scum like her had no right.
Ojiro apologized, having been in a relationship at the moment and wouldn’t. Kaminari said him sexually touching Momo would give the world every right to skin him where he lay. Kirishima had blushed brighter than his hair and stammered; he couldn’t without a proper relationship between the two of them. Kouda had run off crying. Sato had mumbled about how he enjoyed setting tea and pastries together but couldn’t imagine putting his tea in and on her pastry, or some weird allusion like that.
Shoji had bowed his head in apologies, saying she would regret sleeping with him. Sero had run away, crashing into a glass door explaining he wasn’t good enough. Tokoyami stated they weren’t a fated pair and rejected her kindly -- she thinks. Hagakure was in a relationship and politely declined her. Bakugou scoffed and told her to look elsewhere. Midoriya had stammered and suggested that he wasn’t the best option. Mineta just was never an option for her.
She had asked eighteen people who had all told her they would help her with anything, and the only thing that kept being thrown back into her face regarding something that she didn’t see to be anything that special was that she was royalty in their eyes. It was fine at first; honestly, it was! Momo had nodded her head, merely retreating to her home and creating an arrangement of sex toys most suited for her. And for a while, it had been enough.
But like the Matryoshka dolls, she was so fond of making, so good at making, she had several layers underneath that shouldn’t be ignored. And her sexual pleasures and gains had been a neglected part of her for too long.
From having the longest, thickest dildo she could make for herself, up her cunt, to the vibrator and fuck machines she should create (because she was not allowed anywhere near a sex shop), she had been blissful. Each orgasm ripping through her pleasantly, causing her sweaty chest to arch off her bed, her legs slamming closed as it burst from inside of her, causing her to bit harshly on her fist just in case. But just as even playing with your favorite game day after day, feeling alone, lonely, and unwanted, Momo found that even her toys weren’t enough.
She needed more.
No one would fuck her because of her status, because of her last name and the wealth that she brought, so she decided that if she was to do this, to gain the human touch she ever so desired and lusted over, she was going to have to erase her identity.
She had found a little place in the back alleys of Tokyo. They were hiring anyone who dared to visit and the only requirement to join was that you were willing to be fucked. Momo had shown up for the interview, face obscured by a hoodie she wore and was hired the moment she walked in with her spandex shorts hugging her tiny waist and fat ass. She had always seen places like this within her porn research but had never actually assumed fuck ho(l)es existed.
She certainly didn’t expect to be put in a wall where only her ass and cunt hanging out and the cold, wet tip of a sharpie marker to write against her clear virgin skin: FREE HOLE TO FUCK. VIRGIN LITTLE WHORE. She could feel that written on her skin, but she was unaware of the words that surrounded her placement on the wall: “put a tally and a review for every pump of cum you shove in me!”
There was no need for a picture by her whole because the people who frequented this place had no desires of that, and so, Momo found peace even as the starting alarm blared in her ear that customers were finally being let it.
To sum up the experience her first night at this joint, the first time experiencing a hot, living, throbbing cock in both her cunt and ass, Momo would have to blush. Her eyes shifting from yours onto the floor as she smiled. A chuckle on her face as she thought back to the end of that four hour fuck feast and remembered that there were nearly eighty-three tally marks on her bruised and blistered ass, of how her cum and all that cum continued to seep from her clenching holes for two days afterward… she loved it.
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You needed to blow off some steam.
Having just been entirely, horribly dumped by your ex and having precisely zero side pieces on the side to fuck, you went out of your way to secure a quick, easy fuck to get your mind off of things. There was no reason for you to simply not join Tinder and ask the first swipe to come over and fuck, but you didn’t want to see a face. You didn’t even want to know their face. As a matter of fact, you weren’t even so much as interested in your own orgasm at the moment than just making someone else cum. So when a pretty woman handed your glowering face a flyer as you were storming around the streets of Tokyo hoping for a sign from god, you almost cried at what the flyer informed you of.
A local... hole in the wall filled with glory holes and exposed asses, cunts, and cocks alike.
Was it destiny?
You sure believed so as you found yourself tailing to the obscure address, praying for the establishment to be open and, for the most part, empty because you had no plans on performing shit in front of watching eyes. Handing a thousand yen over to the admissions lady as your fee to the use of their prized cunts, cocks, and asses, you shoved the black ticket into your pocket and brisked in.
As you entered the back room, the tension in you back and pressure on your chest seemed to melt away immediately at the scent of sex, dried cum, and sweat. It was an altogether horrid stench, to be quite honest, but right now, it sent fire to your core, your lips licking at the walls and corners willed with awaiting to be attended to people. Twisted pleasure coursed through your veins as you walked around, your eyes taking note of the graffitied words around the individual holes, taking note of the black sharpie words on bruised and battered skin, and some cunts still dripping with someone else’s cum.
‘Loose cunt’ one person had.
‘Hasn’t been broken in yet,’ said another.
‘Loves it when you ‘accidentally’ fuck their ass,’ scrawled on another.
You couldn’t help but smile at the twisted humor, moving until finally, you saw one that exposed ass first to the world, eight tallies marked on her skin, and oh, the words painted on her smooth, perfect skin and the surrounding walls pulled you in.
‘Tightest fucking pussy.’
‘100/10 recommended, been back multiple times for more.’
‘Slip your fist up her ass, she LOVES it.’
‘Favorite fucking whore here.’
‘Would fuck again.’
‘Slut likes it rough and mean.’
‘Please fuck me!!!!’
You watched as the shiny slick of her cum slowly seep from her spread cheeks, not quite dripping, but definitely wet with her arousal. Something was calling you to her, your feet stumbling nearly tipsy with this outworld lust and drunkenness as you stopped behind her slapped pink ass. And without much need of thought to wonder where to stop, your hands found themselves grabbing her thick, supple ass and you moaned at the warmth emitting from her skin, of how her skin was so soft, so moveable, so bouncy. It was larger than your hands, your fingernails running against the cellulite, and stretch marks on her ass that made you want to kiss and run your tongue against even more. You couldn’t hear her, you couldn’t possibly know if she had liked the way your fingers dug into her ass, but her ass bounced, teetering with your grip as you could imagine a soft, juicy moan.
“I wonder if you can hear me?” you asked, most likely to no one, fingers spreading her ass, spanking the used whorish skin of hers so that small, tight, clenching pink asshole was on full display for you. “If you sit there for all these hours and listen to men fuck you with their ugly moaning and pathetic growling.”
Her ass rolled in your hands, and you smiled, taking that as a sign that yes, she heard everything, even you. Raising your hand to the bottle of lube, you saturated your fingers with the cold, transparent liquid, turning your fingers down over her still exposed, flush hole. You watched as the lube dripped down, splattering messily around her tight, rimmed muscle, watching her clench and unclench the muscle in alarming beauty.
“I must apologize, princess,” you sighed, looking at the names scrawled on the walls that this cunt and ass seemed to be most responsive to, and number one on that list was princess. “Your daddy isn’t feeling particularly rough today, so I hope you’ll behave with my softer movements.”
You're not quite sure where the reference to yourself as daddy had come from, but the way the ass muscles clenched between the lone hand that held her cheek made it worth it.
Your lube coated finger edged the pert opening of her ass, feeling the way the already used muscle expanded for your finger if a little stubbornly.
“Relax, princess, daddy sees you like being fisted, so I’m going to make sure you feel good.
You pressed your finger in until the knuckle disappeared beneath the muscle, your grin growing into a hazy, lustful gaze when you felt her ass bounce. This moan vibrated all the way to her anal cavity as you wasted no time in adding a second finger. Her ass was tight, the ribbed walls of the cavity bumping and gliding against your moving fingers, and you grinned when she loudly moaned. You didn’t need to be an expert to see that she had never been fucked softly or thoroughly before. She must have been used to the terrible, animalistic rage that the men here possessed when fucking these people behind the walls. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume that she lost her virginity here.
Your fingers curled, stroking and persuading her body to ripple and twitch with your commanding movements, and another finger added in, and another finger added in. Soon enough, you had four fingers in, all save your thumb. The stretch of her ass around your nearly formed ass was incredible; she took you so well, not a sound of agonizing pain was heard through the wall, although you swore you heard sounds of elation. The damn slut did enjoy it.
Your thumb pressed to her cunt, rubbing the slick folds of her pussy, softly fucking the outermost part of her inner walls, much against her approval if the way he ass bounced heavily in need had anything to say about it.
“Ah, does the princess, not like this?” you asked, your hand that was currently not four fingers into her ass stretching out her cheeks even further as finally you retracted your hand out, made a fist, and sunk back in. Now there was a scream. But the way that it shot curling ravenous fires into your core, you knew it wasn’t one of horror or pain. No. It was one of absolute, slutty pleasure. You moaned at the sound, your arm beginning to thrust into her ass slowly, intentionally, and with burning passion and desire to hear her wail again. She sounded so pretty, sounded so slutty.
Your now free hand moved to her cunt, your mind trying to stimulate her more, trying to ignore the way her ass was hot and deliciously tight around your forearm as your pinched and rolled at her clit. Your thumb stayed on her clit, but your fingers stretched to enter her clenching cunt that seemed to be in synch with her ass. YOu moaned in content at the feeling of her inner walls suctioning against your intruding finger, and you laughed upon feeling your moving arm within her ass against her cunt. And that beautiful, pitchy whine resonated deeply again, and your mind melted.
Your fingers and fist doubled in speed, the growing sharp moans through the walls fueling you to move faster, to be rougher, to make her see stars. No wonder why no one fucked her with love here, you thought as leaned down, teeth tearing against her ass cheek that read: mark me, please. Who could stay composed when this fucking slut was this goddamn loud.
“Such a good fucking princess, so slutty, so nice for your daddy,” you grunted, against her skin, your hips snapping at air as the heat and wetness in your pants made you uncomfortable -- the need for more biting through your clothes. “You like my fist up your ass? You like everyone’s fist up your ass, don’t do? Doesn’t fucking surprise me with those stupid loud moans you make.”
Your words were hissed, your fingernails scraping against her pulsating, throbbing inner walls, and then it happened.
Her ass and her cunt clenched against your fingers and fist. And your jaw dropped as a rippling effect ran across your arm that was buried in her ass.
Was that a?
Holy fucking shit?!
“Princess, did your ass just orgasm?!”
A confirming, pathetic moan sent your mind to the moon.
Suddenly feeling as if this was too much for you, and with no way to relive yourself in this type of fuck room, you removed your hand quickly from her ass, your dominant hand grabbing the hanging sharpie on the wall and added two more tally marks on the number of times she’s cum.
You race out of there, the fire in between your legs too much to handle. Well, at least not before adding one more, important piece of information on her ass and on the wall: ‘if you fuck my ass like daddy did, maybe my ass will orgasm for you too.”
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HELP YOUR URL SCARED ME SO BAD I WAS LIKE WHEN THE FUCK DID I FOLLOW THIS PERSON 😭😭 anyway 1 (ik it's wasps but what are ur top 5 wasps!), 13, 20, 51?
ASDKLJHLKAHSDMKLHASDM MY APRIL FOOLS JOKE WAS TOO EFFECTIVE.. SORRY FOR THE JUMPSCARE LIVE LAUGH LOVE
1. what's your favorite bug? (if you really can't choose, give us a top 5!)
this is tbhe question of a lifetime . this is what i have been preparing for
5. pelecinus polyturator aka *mario gif* TOO ASS!
4. delta pyriforme look at the shape of this beaft. perfection
3. polistes carnifex shes beutifuooul to me
2. these are 2 different guys but theyre close enough so the green belonogaster sp. and ropalidia sp. from madagascar specifically!! i wonder what happened to turn two separate genera of social wasps on the same island a bright emerald green
1. EVERYONE KNOWS THIS WAS GONNA BE THE TOP BUT VESPA MANDARINIA #1 CHAMPION OF THE WORLD OF ALL TIME FOREVER BABYYYYYY this animal isliterally perfect to me . the combo of graceful beauty with robust nobility and strength and power . the peak animal
13. if you could own ANY bug as a pet, what would you own?
a colony of vespa analis ducalis or crabro! i dont think anyones been able to raise a colony of mandarinia in captivity yet but ive seen several people successfully raise thriving nests of those species and god i want to be them so bad im so jealous UDSJAKLDFJSLKSDHJ
20. what's a random bug fact that you tell people whenever bugs come up in conversation?
i bring up that ants are related to wasps! or a branch of wasps depending on how much they know of taxonomy LOL a lot of people dont tend to make the connection surprisingly? so it alwys makes their minds expldoe when i point it out
51. most interesting parasite?
literally all of the hyperparasitoids coz IDK its so fucking funny to me that they pull an uno reverse card on their fellow parasites. get fucking prank'd ! behold this lepidoptera cocoon doesnt have a caterpillar inside but braconid wasps! DOUBLE BEHOLD THE FUCKING BRACONID COCOONS HAVE PTEROMALID WASPS INSIDE!!! LIKE A MATRYOSHKA DOLL!!!!! TWO WASPS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE
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Restrained
Notes: I have no excuse, I just want a crack fic with smut treated seriously with Tai-chan to step on me the reader while looking down cockily. Humor, angst, fluff, splashed with pining dust :’) Also, I love Linkin Park.
Setting: Reader-chan is a villain and is terrible at being one, cue ongoing physical and snark battles with Tai-chan.
Warnings: Kinky Smut (So here’s what my unacknowledged, vanilla self, has tried to write and nobody has to read it but it’s here in the story: Dirty talk, safe words, possessiveness, edging, talk about inexperience, handcuffs, breeding kink, unsafe sex, Tai’s mean and leaves the reader unattended, but he feels bad afterwards, lube, somehow there’s vanilla, and fluff) and my weak emotions for Good Boys.
……….
You didn’t exactly chose the Villain life, it basically chose you. Cue your dad’s maniacal laughter, your mother’s evil smirks and her ways of teaching you how to go for the jugular since you were five...wasn’t the most heroic childhood. You grew up distant away from others, living life learning how to avoid the law and training heavily to avoid losing a fight, your parents seemed to take that as a green-light and pushed you into the family business. Not like you could fight it, anyway. You were an outcast from day one, and had no close friends.
That being said, you didn’t really like hurting other people or doing typical villainy stuff, but you liked fighting. It gave you a feeling of pushing all of your aggression and bottled up anger onto somebody without killing them, whether it be heroes, vigilantes, or hell, other villains. It wasn’t healthy, but you had nothing else, really.
Cue in the physical form of your recent excitement, the BMI hero who resembled a matryoshka doll and was kinda cute in his big form, no lie. The two of you had met near his agency with Sakura petals floating along with the breeze, and honestly it reminded you of a shojo manga. Well, him minding his own business until he’d seen your pathetic attempts at shoplifting.
He was there for a fight, and at first you overestimated him, thinking that he would go down quickly, but you were wrong. So wrong. You weren’t the best of the villains, but you held your ground, the both of you panting and sweaty and for the first time, you liked fighting against a hero.
Of course being a self-called villain full of dirty tricks up your sleeve, you were good at vanishing, leaving him to shout curses at you, but you didn’t care. From then on out, the two of you would continue ironically meeting in places. It was either you stumbling into him walking around town, eating Takoyaki, or him catching you...not doing anything villainous because you sucked at it, but you know, it’s the thought that counts.
Then the snark happened.
“Where did you get your hero outfit? From the thrift store?” You quipped.
“As in a matter of fact, I did. Saw yer mom there buyin’ old man’s underwear, Sweetheart.”
Kami help you.
“You don’t even know my mom! But yeah, she’d probably do that.” You answered.
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah, she’s kind of weird.”
You weren’t on the top of the villain lists (or if you were on the list), but you were good at holding your ground, and he seemed to know of you, and thus seemed as if he was always making plans to run into you. You were no better. You had gotten into the habit of causing small trouble around his agency, and your battles were always lengthy, full of snark, and you admit you kind of liked to feel him push you against a brick building, leering down at you before the whole thing started.
Anyway, you’ve always managed to either escape or he’d just throw up his hands and turn and walk away in a frustrated huff, like that one time you fell flat on your face, accidentally dodging his spear-formed punch. It was one time, but he didn’t let you live it down, asking about your nose.
Oddly enough, the other pro-heroes, Miruko and Hawks, would just glance at you, sigh and then leave, muttering something about idiots, Eraserhead would just guide the children away from the two of you with a blank look, and Endeavor would just avoid the two of your messy fights altogether, opting that he ironically wasn’t going to deal with “an old married couple”. Whatever that meant.
It didn’t stop smaller, weaker heroes from trying, though. Trying to be hotshots and bring you in. Of course, they failed. You didn’t listen to Linkin Park while training your ass out in the cold rain just to be brought down by some punks.
Tai-chan, or what you’ve become calling him (thanks for Hawks just silently handing you a paper with his name on it, the absolute Wing-man), noticed. Although he was a hero and didn’t dissuade the young ones from chasing after villains, he did basically say that anybody around his area was his to battle. It melted your heart, a little.
It didn’t stop the two of your bantering and bickering, or sometimes he’d say something, trying to be serious but it comes out as silly, that you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and he’d get flustered, having a cute blush that you couldn’t help but just eat up.
It was like an odd addiction, you wanted to see more of him, even though it was through unhealthy things such as your fights, you wanted to hear more corny catchphrases, see his eye twitch of annoyance (you were a little shit), and finally, the both of you panting in defeat as he angrily munched on Takoyaki, snarling as you stole one, but let you have it, and so on.
You weren’t sure if you were becoming an unhealthy masochist, or you just really liked him. Perhaps both, because your heart would flutter every time you see him smile around his sidekicks from afar, and then clench because you were so far gone into the life of a villain, you knew that you could never have that life. Be a hero, or have him at least as a friend.
Such sad thoughts did plague you, and it must have shown through, because you would halfheartedly remark to his commentary or sometimes, you just wouldn’t show up for a day. He noticed. He was keen like that, and so to your surprise, he would take your fights more seriously, as if trying to keep you there, not letting you keep running away.
Honestly, it was a little sweet, but your poor heart was getting confused at your little game, and didn’t know how to honestly feel for him.
Of course, everything must come to an end, doesn’t it?
He was leering down at you with a cocky smirk, clothes ruined, showing off whatever he had, a boot stepping onto your chest, rain soaking through his soft hair and splattering your cheeks. An odd feeling came over you. Something you weren’t familiar with, but through your mask, you felt that it was safe to just take a mental picture and burn it forever within your brain.
The fight was different. You were sick all week with the common cold, and when you returned from your little hibernation, weird gossip and rumors were littering about near the FatGum Agency. It was either you left him because you were getting bored, or you had found another hero to play with, or you were finally caught. Whatever it was, he seemed to be excited, relieved(?), and at the same time furious to see you. He demanded where have you been, and feeling increasingly snarky and not sure what to feel with your pining dumbass heart, you retaliated that you were on a vacation from his stupidity.
Yeah, you lost.
“Finally caught ya.” His voice rasped out and hot damn did that not help with the odd searing warmth churning within your guts. The feeling of losing always frightened you, for you weren’t sure whether or not your family would actually give a damn. Yet, you felt elated and calm. It was over, he could finally call the shots, and you could just sit in a jail cell and atone for whatever petty crimes you committed.
“So you have. How’s the weather up there, you giraffe?” You couldn’t help but ask, and the boot on your chest pressed a tiny bit down in annoyance, but he made sure that you weren’t hurting.
“Just fine. I think I stepped in shit, though.”
You couldn’t help it. You began laughing, and to your astonishment, he did, too.
“I missed ya.” He admitted as the both of you calmed down. That surprised you.
“I thought you hated me?”
He gave you a look.
“You’re annoying, and persistent, but not evil. Like a flea, you keep on bouncin’ back up, and I can’t help but not dislike ya.” The words sent a warm tingling up your spine, and you found yourself smiling softly.
“I couldn’t hate you either, you know. You’re the only one,” You swallowed, and the continued as his eyes now focused onto yours. “who I can freely just be myself around with.”
“Whaddya mean?” The tone was softer, now, but ever so curious. Well, it’s a good time as any to release your tragic backstory while in the drizzling rain.
“My parents are both villains, and so I was raised as one. I could never be friends with heroes, or really anybody. I could never dream to be a hero, because of my background. It’s shady from the start, who in their right mind would pick a hero who could just end up being like their parents?”
The words tumbled out of you, feeling the metaphorical weight be lifted off from your chest, as the rain quickened it’s pace. An uncomfortable silence washed over the two of you, and already you were regretting the word vomit that had just spilled out of your mouth. You said too much, you cringed inwardly. You should have just kept your mouth shut, now he’s going to pity you-
“You know what? Fuck it.” Your eyes widened with shock and confusion as the so-called “DadGum” had just said one of the worst bad words.
“Did you just-”
“Your parents can jump into the nearest jail-cell. You,” His eyes glinted with an unknown darkness that set your insides ablaze. “have two options. Either you can platonically become a hero-in-training and live with me, or you can be mine. My hero-in-training, my roommate, my lover, just, mine.” He put an emphasize on the word, and your face flushed despite the chilly autumn rain.
You would be surprised, but you oddly weren’t. Endeavor was right, the two of you were basically an old married couple, bickering and bantering, always staring at each other when one was sure the other wasn’t looking.
“Alright. I’d like us to try...um...being more than...rivals?” You stammered. He cocked an eyebrow.
“I didn’ just pour my heart out for ya so ya can deliver that. Try a lil’ harder.” He scoffed.
“Fine, fine! I..I like you too-”
“Love.”
“Love, you too! I just...I dunno, always wanted to find an excuse to just be around you.”
“That’s sweet, an’ I love ya too, Sugarplum, but ya weren’t here for a whole week-
“I was sick with the common cold!”
“N’ then these shitty rumors started-
“Don’t act as if that’s my fault!”
“So I’m feelin’ a lil’ snappy an’ hungry today, but not for food.” He humored you.
“What does that mean?” You tested the waters, knowing the truth, already. He took his boot off of you, crouching down to give you a predatory smile.
“I won’ touch ya unless ya beg me, but our lil’ cat’n’mouse games have had me riled up, for a very, very long time.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t help but swallow thickly with want as he continued.
“N’ now we’ve discussed our feelin’s, I’m all just wantin’ to tie you to my bed.” He finished as he continued leering at you as if you were the sheep, and him the wolf. You didn’t blame him, you’ve been wanting this, too. It was a little fast paced, but several months of mutual pining would probably do that to you.
“I mean, at least take me out to dinner, first.” You tried to joke. He just shrugged.
“Done.”
“What? I’m a villain! My family are villains!” You tried to argue. He gave a smile mixed in with a humorous look.
“Villain? Last time I checked, starin’ at candy from the hand of a baby, isn’t puttin’ ya on any wanted list. You’re mine, now. Doesn’t matter what yer shitty family thinks. I’ll fight’em, too.” The sentence made your heart swell, feelings of joy and acceptance fluttered within your for the first time in a long time, and you let yourself give a warm smile. His eyes softened, as he helped pull you up to your feet, letting you lean against him as you maintained your balance.
“Alright. We...we can just be a normal couple? How does this even work?” You tried out. He glanced at you.
“Yeah, we’re goin’ to jus’ be a normal couple. Well, you’re gonna train with me, so that we can eventually get ya a license. N’ you’re gonna kick your parent’s asses, not as a villain or a civilian, but as a hero.” He started off softly, but then a more rambunctious grin took over his face at the prospect, and to be honest, you felt like that was a good idea, spitting everything that they’ve taught you, back in their faces as you live life the way you want it, with your partner, of course.
Speaking of which.
“So...we’re just going to continue getting soaked?” You asked, trying to keep yourself from shuddering.
“Yeah, but not in the rain. C’mon, my place.” He gruffed, and you found yourself eagerly nodding.
You weren’t sure how this happened so fast. First you entered his apartment, shivering, then he said that your clothes needed to be washed, aaaaand you were here, on his bed, naked, chilled, and your hands completely cuffed to the post as he was staring at you with such a dirty, hungry look, you felt thrilled by it.
“You want this? Say no an’ we’ll stop.” He offered one last time.
“I want this.” You admitted, and he gave off an almost predatory grin as you watched in amazement of him shucking off his clothes at the pace of the speed of light. Hot damn, he was huge, and beautiful. He grinned at your unabashed stare, crawling towards you on the king-sized bed, opening your legs as he slotted himself between them.
“So pretty, and wet.” He chuckled, giving you little time to think as his thumb swiped at your leaking opening, causing you to gasp.
“I think that I’m gonna eat you out.” Was the only warning you were given as your legs were pulled further apart, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. Your hands jerked against the fuzzy handcuffs as you felt him licking long, hot, and wet stripes from your opening, to your clit. You couldn’t help but mewl as you subconsciously fought against your restraints, thighs trying to clench around him as he gripped them, keeping them apart as he suckled at your clit.
You felt helpless as he was giving you such an intense and dark stare while he was driving you to the edge, gauging your teary-eyed reaction while you bit your lips, hands squeezing onto thin air as you felt yourself getting closer and closer, hips bucking wildly.
Then, he stopped, and you growled into a pitiful whine, causing him to laugh.
“How does it feel, causin’ others to wait?”
You huffed. He seriously couldn’t be that petty!
“Common. Cold.” You let out a hiss, and he gave you an unimpressed stare.
“Are ya givin’ me an attitude?” Was a warning.
“Yeah, I am!” Like a bull, you ran right into that red flag. He grinned, a little darkly. It honestly would’ve scared you a little, if you weren’t so turned on.
“Yer still a lil’ too feisty. As much as I love it, I ‘ave other plans in mind.” He gave a false pout, and your stomach churned with awaited excitement in what he was going to do, next.
“I’ll be back. I’m going to the store. Be good, okay?” He gave your surprised look a dark smirk, and you couldn’t help but growl. The audacity! You loved him, but the audacity! You couldn’t help but look on with bewilderment as he gotten dressed, opening and closing the bedroom door shut as he left you all alone and tied up.
You waited for what seemed forever, pissed off and bored out of your mind as you felt increasingly cold and still wet. You refused to cry. He said he’d be back, didn’t he? Then why do you feel so helpless and lonesome. You felt tears shed with relief and frustration as he finally opened the door to the bedroom, black bag in hand.
“Bastard!” You hissed, and he eyed you with a sympathetic expression mixed in with a little guilt. He got undressed and set the bag next to the two of you, crawling towards you and wiped away the wetness on your cheeks, kissing them and your mouth as he held a gentler expression. He held your chilled frame against his too warm one, nuzzling you as he soothed your ruffled feathers.
“I know, Darlin’. I’ll make it all better for you, I promise.” He kissed your nose as he gathered the blankets to surround your skin, still letting you be exposed, but at least you’ll be a little warmer.
“Do you wanna continue?”
“Yes.” You said without hesitation, feeling relieved after seeing his softer side, and still wanting release, and received a wet, dirty kiss. You moaned into it, feeling his hands rub your breasts, squeezing them rather roughly as he toyed with the nubs with his roughed up hands. He broke away too soon, leaving the two of you panting as his dark, feral look returned as he eyed you.
“Bought you a lil’ somethin’.” He turned away, rummaging through the bag. You eyed it wearily, hoping that he didn’t go too crazy. He pulled out a bottle of strawberry lube, that was good, and...your face flushed.
“Ever used these, before?” He held out the little vibrating bullets for you to see. You shook your head, and he chuckled.
“You’re very vanilla, ain’t you?”
“I-I…” You stuttered, but he kissed your forehead.
“What’s yer safe word?” He asked. Safe word? Why couldn’t the two of you have a normal first time, together? You thought about it.
“Grapes.”
“Why that word?”
“I hate them.” You shrugged.
“Fair enough. Alright, let’s get started.” He said lowly, opening the lube and bullets. He added some of the lube onto the bullets, attaching one bullet to your clit, and the other to your nipple with little pieces of tape. Yeah, you were confused, too, but he didn’t pay you any mind as he set the controller to both bullets to the side, flipping the switch to a low setting.
You let out a choked whimper as your clit was being stimulated, him leaning forward and enjoying the view of your wetness drenching the sheets.
“Such an eager slut.” He bit out almost darkly as his fingers spread open your labia.
“’M notta slut!” You protested, but it was on deaf ears as he had something else in mind. He generously poured a dime amount of lube onto his fingers, grinning down at you as the strawberry scent floated nicely in the room, mixing in with your own scent of arousal. You almost jolted as his lubed up fingers prodded the tight muscle to your vaginal entrance.
“Damn, relax, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He murmured, and through your lust-fogged brain, you wondered if anybody else knew about this side of “Dad-gum”. Although having a rough demeanor, he was gently opening you up, and you felt warmth blossom in your chest at the extra attention that he was giving you, glancing at you from time to time to see if you were alright.
You were more than fine. Five fingers deep, and a higher setting to the mini bullets, you were very close to coming. You rocked your hips in a desperate fashion, hands clenched tightly as the fuzz to the handcuffs prevented you from hurting yourself.
“You gonna cum?” He leered.
“Yes!” You bit out, and your stomach fluttered with excitement mixed with dread at that dark chuckle.
“Not yet.” He switched the vibrator off, and you swore you could hear yourself huff into an annoyed growl. Tears of frustration threatened to spill, and he gave another sympathetic look. You swore that he was mocking you.
“It’s okay, alright? I’ll give you what ya want.” He kissed your eyes, holding your frame close to him as he then rubbed his cheek against yours.
“Patience, Baby. I’m hurtin’ too. Right now, let’s let ya cool down while I mark up this pretty skin of yours, alright?” He kissed you gently, and you were now aware of his own need. It was swollen and looked angry as precum was headily dripping onto the sheets. It twitched as you realized that he knew that you were staring. You licked your lips and he groaned with want.
“See? Hurtin.”. He then continued to do as he promised, kissing you slowly as his hands rubbed against your skin, squeezing here and there as your hands itched to touch him. He paid your whining no heed as he licked at the juncture at your neck, biting it harshly, suckling at the blossoming bruise as his dick twitched at your wanton whine and buck of hips. He kissed the spot gingerly, eyeing your debauched frame with greed as he lowered his mouth to another spot.
“Damned young punks, trying to bring you in. They should know better. You’re in my territory.” Bite. You winced, but keened with need as he lathered the blossoming bruises with gentle kisses.
“Every inch of you is mine.” His eyes glittered almost darkly as he tore away from his work. Oh yes, you were looking nice. He didn’t do too much, but the love bites he imprinted onto your neck and clavicle helped soothe the possessive ache that he had. He knew that you wanted to touch him, too, and was thrilled at the aspect.
“You wanna touch?” He prodded. You keened into a hurried nod, not caring about your pride.
“Please.” What a cute sound, how could he refuse? He relented, and you were on him. It felt as if he was guiding you, letting your hands roam, doing your own squeezing at his stomach, biceps, and pecs while you kissed him feverishly. He basked in your attention, letting you claim your prize for being such a wonderful and patient Sweetheart. Of course he kept you from touching his dick, promising that another time, definitely, so you relented in favoring of returning his little marking game.
He swore he could come untouched by your less rough touch, eyeing him to see if he acknowledged that you were doing a good job, to which he couldn’t help but find that adorable, as well.
“You’re so good for me. So patient and sweet. I’m going to breed you, now. Would you like that?” He hummed, and you swore that your brain stopped and your core clenched with need. One sentence should not sound that hot, but it did.
“Yes. I would like that.” You answered a little too gently, and he hummed with approval, kissing you.
“If you don’t, remember that we don’t hafta do anything that you don’t wanna do. Remember your safe word?” He inquired, you nodded and told him.
“Good. You wanna be bred n’ dirty-talked? I gotcha some Plan B at the store, didn’t really think about condoms. Is that fine?”
You nodded, telling him that you liked both ideas. To be honest, you didn’t mind being marked up in such a way. Not with your pent up lust and feelings of love towards this sadistic Himbo of a man.
“Lie on yer back. I wanna see ya.” He growled out, and you hastily complied.
“Now, tell me, how experienced are ya, really? Not hard to notice that you seem to be learnin’ a few things.” He gave you look in which you couldn’t decipher.
“It’s dumb.”
“No it ain’t. Doesn’t matter to me if ya have history.” He kissed your knee softly as his expression gentled, and you felt yourself relax.
“Your possessiveness says otherwise.” You tried.
“’Cause they’ve been houndin’ around what’s been mine in my territory. Your earlier experiences don’t count. You’re mine, now, and I’m planning on keepin’ it that way.” He smoothed your leg gently despite the dark edge in his tone of words. Really, you feel elated.
“So no judgment?” You inquired.
“None.” He promised. You believed him. Feeling a bit more braver and relaxed, you could trust him with your secrets. You didn’t know a way how to make it less cringe-worthy to admit, but you wanted to tell him, anyway.
“I never really had to time or opportunity.” You found yourself saying, and that’s all he needed to hear.
His eyes flashed into something that you couldn’t decipher, but it didn’t matter. He wan onto you, kissing you slowly yet frequently, retouching every place where he could reach with a more gentle approach.
“Don’t make a kink out of it.” You groaned. He chuckled lowly.
“Why not? Ya get to do this, once.”
“It’s a social construct, and dumb. It’s not like my personality is magically going to change after having something within me.”
“I agree completely, Dearest, but I find it endearin’ and sweet that you’re willing to share this with me.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” You huffed out softly.
“Might be, but my dick’s trying to convince itself to do the thinkin’.”
“Maybe you should let it, then.” You prodded, and he then gave you a dark grin.
“As ya wish. Don’t forget yer safe word.” Was the only warning you had.
You were already loosened and wet, and although his actions resembled of that like an animal as he kissed you with fervor and biting some new areas, he was gentle when he decided that it was time for the main course. Coating himself with a generous amount of cold lube, he hissed as he turned on the bullet vibrators, letting you get stimulated as he breached your vaginal opening, teasing and prodding the muscle as it opened up for him.
You felt the hot, thick head of his dick slip inside with little to no restraint, surprising you as your legs widened further, allowing him to sink in further. He was big, and your walls had to stretch to accommodate him, but you wanted it so damned badly. It hurt so good, you thought. There was a little pain, but the delicious stretch heavily outweighed it, and it reached places that you didn’t know that just needed to be itched.
Hot damn, did you feel stuffed.
“How are ya?” He then asked, and then you realized that he was fully seated inside, and you could tell that he was desperate and hot as you were.
“If you stop this time, I might actually kill you.” Your threat was light, but he swallowed thickly at the intensity of your stare and heated gaze of want.
“Good?”
“Wonderful. Move.” You all but demanded, but he eagerly complied, letting your too-tight walls massage him.
“Fuck! So tight. Might keep ya like this, re-tie ya to my bed. Fuck ya full n’ heavy.” He couldn’t help but growl out the words, being rewarded with the tightened clench of your walls.
“Ya like that? Bein’ my personal cocksleeve? Belly round n’ breasts heavy with milk?” His movements jerked faster as he squeezed your breast that didn’t have the bullet pleasantly buzzing against it. You couldn’t help but nod, arousal dripping onto the sheets as the bullet roughly buzzed against your clit, the both of you feeling the painful aching need for release. His hips were all but snapping to meet your thrusts, balls slapping against your ass, as he engaged you into a filthy kiss as the lewd sounds and scents echoed and filtered within the walls.
Your head felt light and the both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, he opted to weave his hand into yours, holding it rather almost gently as he moved as if a man possessed. Yours hit first, gripping you and clenching you out of nowhere as you let out his name in a frantic shout, clutching onto him ever so tightly as your head fogged into a sharp relief that left you into tears from finally able to cum. He was no better, hips faltering as he felt you embrace your own orgasm, causing his mind to almost go blank as the movement of his hips bucked into a frantic state. He huffed out, calling out to you as he held onto you tightly, anchoring the both of you into a freight train of orgasmic bliss.
You whimpered out your oversensitive clit and breast, hitting the damned power button to those little bullets as you came down from your high. Taishiro collapsed next to you as the both of you were panting, trying to catch your breaths. You were so drowsy, but you really didn’t want to sleep in your own spunk and messes.
“Dirty.” You whined, and he laughed, kissing you.
“Let’s get cleaned up, then. Know ya don’t wanna, but you could seriously get an UTI if ya don’t use the bathroom.” You agreed, tearing off the bullets, and pulling your weakened state up to use the bathroom as he decided to lazily change the sheets, throwing the used sheets, toys, and the black bag in the corner, somewhere. He would deal with that, later.
He caught you as you stumbled into him from coming out of the bathroom. Gently, he maneuvered you to where you were snuggled up against him, a heavy blanket re-warming up your cooling skin as he hummed, gently playing with your hair as he kissed you softly.
“Ya good?”
“Tired n’ fine.” You mumbled, peeking up to look at him. He smiled gently.
“I looooove you.” He singsonged, earning him your own gentle smile and a soft kiss.
“I love you, too. Go to sleep.” You playfully griped at the last part, and he chuckled in compliance.
…………..
Bonus: Yeah your parents were pissed, but you were a hero, and their opinions didn’t really count, anymore. They knew your potential, so they cleared away from you as you and your fiance moved into a safer city. End.
……….
Here’s my poor attempt at being more versatile in writing kinky smut. Hope it’s not too much cringe, I’m usually too vanilla :’)
#Taishiro Toyomitsu x reader#Taishiro Toyomitsu#Fatgum#Fatgum x reader#I mean#I tried#It's fun kinky adult times at the end#Don't @ me#Heed the warning sigils that I've placed#trash but my trash that you're welcomed to#Welcome to my hut
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When my grandfather on my dad’s side passed away, I wrote up a piece with just one family story after another about the experience. I can’t really do the same thing in the same way this time, but I am finding that, in every death, family draws tighter together and tells stories to each other almost on instinct, finding common ground around this one person who shaped us.
Here are some stories that have come out of the last few weeks.
*
I will warn you that the story of my mom’s family has a dark side—her biological mother was physically, emotionally, and psychologically abusive. My grandfather was the one who saved his children from her and thus I can’t speak of him without speaking of her as well. I ended up only telling one story that involves her and it has a content warning at the beginning as well as a note for when the story ends.
*
In his eulogy, my step-uncle said that my grandfather, his stepfather, taught him that “family isn’t about biology. It’s about love.”
Well, he was the one who taught me that too, only not because I had crappy parents. Until he remarried, mom had a crappy parent and a good parent, and the good parent held the family together and shaped us in ways that I’m still only beginning to find out.
*
CW CHILD ABUSE
(Note: I’m referring to her as my mom’s bio-mom or by her initials, NW.)
The custody battle was brutal, and it went all the way to the state supreme court. Fathers didn’t get custody back then—my mom says “abuse” wasn’t even in the lexicon in the initial court cases.
We found this out because my brother & his girlfriend googled my grandfather and this is what came up. They read the deposition and initially my brother was uncomfortable with her seeing it, but my mom said it grazed the surface—and as I told him, the only reason I don’t going around telling people that my mom’s bio mom did stuff like frequently sprain her wrist from beating them is that it’s not exactly the kind of thing you dump on people without warning, not because it’s a secret or because my mom doesn’t want me to talk about it.
I’ve known for a long time that when I was really little, my mom once found herself with her hands around my throat, freaked the fuck out, and from that moment had to second guess every inch of her parenting and her actions around us, because she had no instincts to fall back on. I didn’t need to read “choking her eldest daughter” as an example of abuse in a court case to know that that happened to my mom.
Anyway, the psychological abuse always scared me more. Because my mom won’t talk about it much.
END CW
*
Apparently, even though moms are perfect angels who should always get child custody and can do no wrong to children, word was getting around about her and someone offered to “take care of the problem” for $150.
My grandfather never would’ve said yes to that, and he decided to try the legal route first. But he was ready to take the kids and run, if he didn’t get custody. Leave his job, fake name, move to Phoenix, everything. I’m beyond thankful that didn’t have to happen but also beyond relieved that he was ready to.
*
He never spoke a single ill word about NW.
*
I was very disappointed about missing the funeral in person. I was hoping they’d have it after my ankle surgery so I could at least be propped up in a corner somewhere, high on Vicodin maybe, but there.
Honestly I’m disappointed about a lot of things this month.
The day before the funeral, my dad came in with a picture showing me the outside of the house. There was a rainbow. A little one, but a rainbow.
I of course dragged my ass out of my sickbed, hopped my way out there, and made him set up a chair so I could see it too.
*
There’s a reason I run a side blog of rainbows. There’s a personal & private story there, but what you need to know is that in dark moments, I often look for rainbows or have literal rainbows sent my way. They bring me hope every time. I sat outside, foot hurting and sweating all over from the heat, watching the rainbow fade, knowing it was going to be okay.
I haven’t always gotten along with my cousins on that side of the family. They grew up in Louisiana and are much closer to each other, so there’s a lot of gaps to bridge and we taller, dark-haired city people from Yankee land who clung close to each other and weren’t used to big families always kind of stuck out a bit among the short blondes who had always lived in the South in a big insane group of cousins and step-cousins.
We’ve gotten closer more recently. It’s trendy to hate on your family on facebook, but interacting on social media has given me some separation between the stuff that makes me roll my eyes about my cousins and the stuff that endears me to them.
And it was through facebook that we came together because of one simple fact: we all had the same, terrible morning.
We all woke up first thing to our moms, broken in half themselves, breaking our hearts too.
*
I get told that I laugh and smile a lot. Sometimes I’m even told that in non-creepy ways! And it’s true. I sometimes think I exist moment to moment trying to find something new to make me laugh. I learned that from my parents, who will watch or listen to just about anything if it’s funny. I learned to tell stories from them too, to take all my experiences and find the good the bad and the funny in everything.
My mom is my best audience. She laughs like a hyena at all my stories, my good lines and my bad lines. She’ll laugh at jokes that I *know* aren’t funny, at the ones that I think are hilarious but no one else laughed at, and she laughs the hardest of all at the jokes I’m extremely proud of and that land really well nearly every time.
Her whole family’s like that. Head thrown back, laughing hysterically, whole conversations just an excuse to try and make each other laugh.
Her dad, too. Just as loud and as hard as the rest of them. He had a giggle, and also a cackle. He used to give points when someone said something particularly funny, let out a really good zinger, or “won” a round of conversation. He’d just grin, solemnly lick his finger, and draw a “1” in the air.
*
He liked pranks. I’ve told story after story on my blog about how my family likes to mess with each other at Christmas. My mom’s saying is that “there’s no such thing as a lie at Christmas”, meaning that your gift is late or it wasn’t in stock or we can’t do it this year, I haven’t found a gift for you so you’re just getting candy? Not lies.
Except it’s not her saying. It’s his.
Anything that arrives at the house in December gets wrapped up and put under the tree; it’s automatically a gift. You think that trick of wrapping things in progressively smaller boxes is a prank? Amateur hour. I’ve wrapped up individual pieces of candy, individual matryoshka dolls, and yes, the smallest git in the largest box but also filled the box with packing peanuts to make it extra annoying.
I learned all of this from my mother.
But he taught it to her.
If I find hideous things to give my brother, it��s because my mom’s family rotated a Velvet Elvis, giving it to each other, for years. If my mom watched in stoic silence as my dad tore the house apart for looking something they got in Arizona that was wrapped up under the tree, it’s because someone wrapped up two huge boxes for my grandfather that he was excited to open, that turned out to be two light fixtures he’d ordered and forgotten about.
We never lost the magic of Christmas in my house. If anything it got more magical, more fun to surprise each other and find funny and creative ways to show each other how much we care. Gift giving is an art form in my family and I look forward to it every year.
It’s all because of my grandfather.
*
I learned so many things from my parents that they in turn learned from my grandfather. Even my dad learned a lot from him as his father-in-law, because it was impossible not to look up to him, and he was a teacher in his profession and by nature. Everyone talked so much at the funeral and afterwards about how he could fix anything, build anything, do, anything.
I was called “Tinker” at one of my old jobs for how I was always fixing everyone’s computer and the various office machinery. I didn’t necessarily know how until I sat down and looked at it. I just knew how to figure it out.
I always thought I learned that from my parents, which I guess is still true, but now I know who they passed it on to me from.
One thing I always associated with my mom was that any time she saw a pile of my necklaces in a knotted mess, she would sit down an untangle them for me. I never asked her to do that; she would just see them, and sit down and start working on them. She always got a specific look of concentration on her face as she did.
My dad and I were talking after the funeral and he mentioned my grandfather doing that exact thing in our house at ninety-something years old. He has a picture of it. I knew without seeing it exactly what the expression on his face would be.
It’s now one of my favorite pictures of him.
*
There was technical trouble with the Zoom funeral, which was pretty disastrous—I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t able to attend due to health & other problems. For someone so beloved, so central to the family, who we all owe so much to but don’t even think of it that way because he was so fun and easy to love…well, funerals are for the living, and not being able to be there in person hurt, bad, and I know I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. We were relying on being able to attend digitally.
But most of the world is still getting used to doing things over video, and certainly the older couple running the funeral home was a bit clueless. I, on the other hand, ran video calls (not over Zoom, but still) almost daily for 2 years while I was an admin and we had remote employees calling in to meetings. So as soon as I realized exactly what was causing the problem, I got on the phone with the funeral home and did my best to salvage what we could.
And then I pulled the recording for everyone (thank goodness it was recorded).
And then before I watched it I wrote up some instructions, with screenshots, for the funeral home for next time, because they genuinely didn’t know what to do and I wanted to make sure the next family had an easier time and if the problem is just understanding technology, I know how to help with that! I’m good at figuring out and explaining this stuff! It’s just what you do—you help people when you can! You know?
And then I watched the funeral, and listened to my uncle talk about my grandfather always fixing things, and always teaching people.
And I just broke down. Because I knew. I knew who I was.
If the legacy I carry is that of someone who can’t resist helping others by teaching and fixing problems, then may I never ever ever let go of that legacy.
My mother called me to tell me that when they realized what was going on and what I was doing, my uncles both said the same thing, that “that was Papa.”
*
The only good part about any of this is that I’m here with my mom right now. She talked to him all the time before he died but she didn’t get to see him, and she keeps saying things like how she wishes she could tell him the good joke she heard. She’ll casually talk about the depression she’s fighting off.
I didn’t want a broken ankle to strand me here but there are worse times to be stuck with my mom.
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The 100 6x10: Matryoshka Personal Narrative
Here we go again! I hope this week went by as quick for you as it did for me! I’m super excited to see this episode--but nervous because I heard that there might be a major character death? I mean....we just lost Kane next week? Why would they do that to us again?! Any speculations? I’ve been hearing that it might be Raven (though that seems off-plot from this season) and I’ve also been hearing Octavia (but she’s in the next episode so maybe later this season, but definitely not tonight). Also, BOB DIRECTS NEXT EPISODE!!! I’m so jazzed for that!
Love you Eliza! They can’t kill you off if you’re the only one who introduces the upcoming episodes! Lmao
Haha the reminders showing us yesterday about Bellamy being super in love with Clarke and her return. Like we need that reminder. We have been replaying that scene all week!
Love Clarke on the motorcycle.
Uh oh! Who’s on the other motorcycles?
Our head? Our head?
You tell her Clarke!
Damn Josephine knows her away around no matter how many years she’s been gone.
Anybody reminded of the bunker on Earth from season 1 to this one? You know the one where we all started shipping Bellarke? Lol
Ohhh....bringing up the Josephine/Gabriel relationship.
Wow. Josephine actually seems human when talking about him.
Damn.....Clarke is seizing. Damn, she is sorta worried about Clarke, but....still mostly worried about saving her own ass. Not surprised.
Ope! Here is where Raven and Abby find out Clarke is “dead.”
Russell is out for their heads. His own doing, really.
Yeah, Raven. Look guilty and mournful for Clarke!
So Simone said that to hurt them for hurting her?
Yes, Russell, you’re fault. But not for letting them in. For trying to kill Clarke.
Awwww....calling Madi Clarke’s daughter always gets to me!
Wow. Simone is out for BLOOD!
Just like them? You are worse than them!
Oh god?! Who are they going to kill?!?!
Oh. Telling people the truth! Good for him!
Do I hear the sounds of rebellion?
Gaia and Echo teamwork! We are getting almost all the spoiler scenes in the first ten minutes, are we? Damn.
REBELLION! REBELLION!
Rebellion is never really peaceful, though, is it?
You tell him Echo! Haha
Wow. Make them choose who dies? Extra cruel.
Plan B. Always have a Plan B.
I love Echo. I do. I may not like her and Bellamy together romantically, but I really, really LOVE her!
Wow Gaia. Put on the pressure.
That’s easy....Murphy. Yup.
You tell him Madi!
Ohh....The truth is coming out!
Abby is going to kill him!
Eventually.....lol. Emori.
Abby totally giving him the slap.
You tell him, Abby!
Commercial Break #1 Thoughts: Honestly, I haven’t liked Abby this season, or most seasons, but it’s nice to see her acting like a real mother again. And also, I love Murphy, but he gets off wayyyyy too easy most time. Do I want him dead? NO! Do I agree that he would be the one to choose....don’t hate me!....but probably so. He did betray them and all. He did the right thing in the end. Sure. But mostly through a lot of outside pressure, and he probably would have gone through with it if Josephine didn’t stab him in the leg and shit. He’s very into saving his own ass.
Is Josephine really singing....that song? Lol
Ohhh....back in the mind stuff! And it is MESSY and falling apart!
Ohhh their memories are mixing now! That is definitely not good! Way to really push the point that Clarke’s brain is deteriorating.
Not much. Yes, I would definitely concur.
Ohhh. Her second body really didn’t want to be taken!
Josephine is actually scared. Good.
I love Clarke with a plan!
Hmmm....I hope those memories aren’t important....
Our brain, now Clarke? This is scaring me that she keeps saying “our.”
Leave it to Raven to put Clarke through hell and then give Murphy an easy talk.
So did Gaia purposely get taken?
Madi is ANGRY!
The only person dying tonight is Russell. How come I don’t agree?
Wow. Very tense lunchtime.
Is Ty good....or bad?
Ohhhhh is Ty going to get himself killed because he can’t wait for the rebellion?
OH....is Simone going to die? Good riddance? I suppose....? Yup. Dead.
No wonder Russell is going to be out for blood this episode. His poor choices are leading to his whole family’s demise.
Commercial Break #2 Thoughts: Is anyone actually feeling bad for the Primes? I mean, I’m not, but I want to know if there is anyone out there still thinking they are good when their whole brainwashing shit is coming out. Bring on the rebellion! And seriously, already halfway through the episode? I feel, like usual, that we’ve got a lot, but still not enough. I really hope the last few episodes are not rushed because of this. That would suck. I know we’ll get a cliffhanger-ish thing like we usually do, but I hope it is after some real plot growth. Also, so we are probs not going to see Bellamy this episode? Is that what’s happening? Because next to episodes descriptions are all Bellamy/Octavia descriptions which makes me worry also about Clarke’s health. I see Eliza’s name in the cast section of both, but....still worried.
Ope. Josephine and Gabriel memories in different bodies!
Aww.....that’s so cute. I still hate her. And this is so the start of Gabriel’s hate for the Prime system.
Clarke is so sympathizing. She needs to stop being so nice.
Wow. They’re bonding. Damn. Fuck. Fine. Save them both, but give Clarke back her body. And let her live, of course.
And here is Josephine with an ax. That’s not good. Definitely can’t not trust the psychopath.
And....there goes Josephine. But...Clarke is still inside? How? Is Josephine gone completely now? Or is she awake in Clarke’s body?
And uh oh! Killer vines!
Commercial Break #3 Thoughts: Don’t have many thoughts because that was not a lot before the next set of commercials. But I think we’re somehow seeing Josephine awake somehow? Like, why was it her who regained control when her memories were wiped? And what does this mean for Clarke’s survival? Especially when I’m convinced Josephine was going to use that ax against Clarke? Meaning she can STILL definitely NOT be trusted to keep any sort of deal in keeping them both alive. Josephine is definitely the female Murphy--a little more psycho, yes, but still valid.
At least those commercials didn’t last.
And here is the body being choked! And Gabriel and Octavia to the rescue!
Nope....Josephine. Not Clarke.
Oh. He does still love her. That’s not good.
Yeah, Octavia. Ask about Clarke! Save Clarke!
Wow. This is such a mess!
Damn. You guys didn’t honestly think that she was to be trusted.
You go Bellamy!
“Because of course it is!” What sass!
Blake reunion!
You tell her Bellamy! Protect Clarke, Octavia, and your people. In that order if you don’t mind!
Gaia and Madi confrontation!
Wow Madi is really going bad! Save her!
Yes! Abby is talking sense!
That’s what you get for letting a child become Heda!
Damn. Shedheda was horrible!
Wow Abby is really going full on mother hen now!
Raven asking the right questions! Good girl!
And this is where we are going to get Madi’s exorcism scene next week!
Ohh....the child is spared, but all the others are burned?
Very witch trials.
Commercial Break #4 Thoughts: Madi is fully gone now. Gotta get that exorcism done. Which is totally next week in Bob’s directorial debut episode next week! SO EXCITED! Which from the behind the scenes pics seems to have Jackson in it, so if he survives the burning at the stake thing, I’m thinking everyone else will, too. Just a theory, but Echo has got to come through in some aspect. And also, with some help from the rebellious people who have already been told the truth? Well. here comes the last fifteen minutes. The last five minutes of all this season’s episodes have been intense, so I wonder what the last five will bring this episode. I’m nervous. And excited. But mostly nervous as always. This show is totally going to make me go prematurely grey!
Russell giving his dictatorship speech. Gotta have it.
Echo is totally ready.
You tell them Emori!
Very witch trials.
Damn it, Riker! What the hell?!? Can’t trust any of these bastards.
The chick on the motorcycle is going to save them last moment. Calling it.
Or.....Murphy will save them?
Hmmmm....he’s considering it.
And....now they’re safe? Again?
Ohhh....and Raven is going to use the computer to erase Madi’s bad side.
But they are still going to burn the guy who killed Simone. Typical.
I could see that coming a mile away. Gotta keep everyone in fear of the Primes.
Commercial Break #5 Thoughts: Fear is what keeps the people under control. Biggest sign of a dictatorship. And further proof that the Primes are the real bad guys here. Even Russell in his best moments has always been a brainwashing dictator playing himself off as a god. Also, last five minutes are coming up! Always the most intense! Does anyone else believe this is when we will find if Clarke is going to live or die. I really would stop watching if she died. She’s the show for me.
SAVE CLARKE Gabriel!
Stop with the heart eyes! Only Bellamy and Clarke can have heart eyes!
She was right to depend on you.
Gabriel making hard decisions.
He better still save Clarke!
Either that, or the Blake’s will probably kill him.
Bellamy is seriously pissed. Save his Clarke!
Damn right, Gabriel! The only one who can be trusted I think. Maybe.
Death is life. Very poetic.
And Clarke is now seeing her mind breaking apart.
Okay. Save her! Save her now! I’m scared! Restart her heart!
Why is she still here!?
WHAT?!?!?!?!
IS she really killing Clarke?
Oh God.
Heart and the head. Hear and the head!
Save her Bellamy! This is love!
Is that the only kiss we are only ever going to see?
Damn....are we really losing Clarke?
Oh my god. My heart seriously was stopping and racing!
The head and the heart! This is so a love confession!
THAT WAS A LOVE CONFESSION!!!!!
My hands are still shaking from thinking that they were really killing off Clarke!
#The 100#the 100 spoilers#bob morely#eliza tayor#bellamy blake#clarke griffin#octavia blake#bellarke#john murphy#emori#echo#raven reyes#abby griffin#jackson#madi griffin#matryoshka#6x10
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Waiting For Your Moment To Fall On Me (Vixie) - Pilandok
AN: I haven’t been here in a while. Oh wow, I’m writing Vixie again. It’s because of the odd resurgence of Vixie pics on tumblr and Trixie’s ig story of that poodle figurine and she tagged Violet. *tears*
This is part of my drabble collection in Ao3 although it’s longer than a drabble. Read the other drabbles here:
I Love You Anyway
It’s the Same Old Thing
The first time Violet kissed Trixie, it was a joke, though more like a prank. A little mean-spirited gesture meant to throw Trixie off and it did. He reacted the way Violet wanted to: frustrated, blubbering, and blushing furiously. Before Violet could bask in her victory, production came over and scolded them, saying they should stop bickering like children and in not too many words that this was not the kind of drama they were looking for. Not them throwing playground insults (“no, you’re the ugly bitch”) at one another.
Trixie had all but forgotten that fight until he watched that episode of Untucked and found that it didn’t make the cut. Trixie didn’t think too much about the disappointment he felt. He wanted to know how it looked like.
“It would’ve made great TV!” Violet shouted. This was in another time, in another place—in Violet’s New York apartment just after her fashion show. Miss Fame was there and, through a series of random happenstances, Trixie was, too.
“Yeah, if I was going to get assaulted by you on day twelve of you not showering then the least I could get was more screen time.”
“Must be because they couldn’t think of a storyline between the season winner and someone who was there for like a total of two seconds,” Violet replied. She was clinging to Miss Fame, demanding affection like a cat.
“Bitch!” Trixie screams.
“Wait, that happened? That happened?” Fame asked, confused as ever. She turned her head side to side to look at Violet and Trixie who were sitting either side of him. They didn’t answer her. Trixie looked at Fame affectionately and hugged the arm that Violet wasn’t clinging to. Fame leaned against him slightly. When Violet saw this, she made a sound and repositioned herself to curl up on Miss Fame’s lap.
“Did you just purr?” Trixie asked, laughing.
“Shut up,” Violet retorted. What she hated was that Trixie got under her skin as much as she did him and can that he can throw her off, too. She still hadn’t forgiven Trixie clocking her missing contact that first day in the workroom.
“That’s what happens when you spend too much time around that evil cat of yours.”
“Do not come for my cats, bitch.” Violet sat up to glare at Trixie. “Just because your only friends growing up were the feral mutts you had to take flea baths with, you country hick.”
“No, I’m serious, Violet. Your cat looks like it’s plotting to kill you for your pasties.”
“Bitch, you’re just jealous they got more hair than you.”
The bickering and fighting for Miss Fame’s attention wasn’t new, it was a familiar scene for all of them. It wasn’t just Fame, it was anyone who gets caught up in their stupid arguments. But with Katya, she has enough affection to give both of them, and Pearl doesn’t care enough to humor either of them. Fame enjoyed the attention but she can’t help but think about those cockfighting videos he watched when he was younger that left him traumatized.
By the time Fame left them for a sanity break, Trixie and Violet have circled back to “you’re the ugly bitch” and “no, you’re the ugly bitch.” Back and forth, they throw shallow insults at each other that became so convoluted and obscure that it was driving them to hysterical laughter.
“Fuck,” Violet was tearing up, the laughing was hurting her sides. “In drag, you look like a factory-reject matryoshka doll that came out of Katya’s ass.” Trixie opened her mouth to scream but Violet wasn’t done yet, “and out of drag you look like a homunculi baby Jesus that Mary regretted not aborting.”
“Oh my god,” Trixie laughed in disbelief. After a beat he quipped, “it’s homunculus, by the way, singular.”
Violet punched his abdomen slightly and Trixie realized that she was resting her head on his lap. With Fame in the other room, Violet had redirected his affection to Trixie.
“No bitch, plural,” Violet answered, “you’re literally a thousand ugly babies.”
Violet had been tracing her fingers absentmindedly on Trixie’s stomach and suddenly he became conscious of the shift in the mood. An odd tension bubbled up He felt compelled to continue their insult trade-off to escape the strange atmosphere.
“And you… you’re—you look like…” Trixie was coming up with blanks and he caught Violet looking at him smugly. He realized that Violet knew exactly what was she was doing.
“You can’t think of anymore cause you know I’m pretty,” Violet said, now fully confident, “you know I’m hot.”
Trixie is sure that it was meant to be a jab but it sounded like a challenge. They’ve been arguing the whole night, he wasn’t about to give up now. He just needed to throw Violet off once more. And he knew exactly how to do that.
They had their second kiss that night—and their third, their fourth, and fifth, and sixth.
—
Their seventh was the start of a game. In a boat full of drag queens, the objective was to not get caught. Trixie didn’t know how it escalated to that point, but the next thing he knew, they were ducking corners to sneak quick kisses from each other. In the crowd, they catch each other’s hands with lingering touches and without anyone looking, they share knowing winks.
It concerned Trixie slightly that Violet was living her best life playing this game—giggling whenever she managed to steal a kiss before Trixie even saw her coming, grabbing her ass in the presence of other people, then whispering for him to follow her to darker rooms for full make out sessions. Trixie followed, naturally, though he realized soon enough that it stopped being a game they played together because now they were on different teams. His task became that he had to keep up with Violet jumping around endlessly, popping out of nowhere to tease him. Violet’s objective seemed to be to get Trixie, who wasn’t in drag, to pitch a tent. And with that, Violet nibbled on Trixie’s ear then ran off. Trixie’s sure she was playing to win.
Maybe they weren’t as secretive as they thought they were, especially with the free-flowing drinks leaving them significantly buzzed.
“You have something on your neck,” Kim Chi said, making a motion to wipe it off. Trixie rushed to wipe it himself and found some pigment of what was unmistakably Violet’s purple. Kim Chi looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Trixie ignored it and turned to look for Violet, spotting her a few acquaintances over talking to some people. He waited for a few seconds before marching over, catching her as she was trying to slip away from the conversation.
She laughed when he explained her carelessness, “thought you knew, bitch.” Violet patted him on the crotch as she walked away for good measure. Despite his irritation, he felt something stir up inside him. He was losing bad. Trixie rushed to follow Violet who was already talking to another group of people. He cut in unceremoniously.
“Oh, excuse me. I’m going to need to borrow Violet because some folks were looking for her to talk business,” he said innocently and turned to Violet. “Vi, those people from ancient-twinks-dot-com want to talk to you about the project you proposed?”
Violet’s mouth dropped in disbelief but before she could protest, Trixie grabbed her by the wrist and began cutting through the crowd. He led them to the bathrooms, gendered signs being ignored throughout the night, and pulled them into the nearest one.
“Bitch, you—mmph! “Violet’s lips were quickly occupied by Trixie’s as he pushed her against the wall of the bathroom. It was a hungry and hurried kiss with his face pressing harshly onto Violet’s. Her arms darted out to steady herself but Trixie was quick to hold on to her wrists to pin them above her head. Fuck, Violet thought she may be starting to lose again, whatever this game was. They kept changing the rules that she didn’t know exactly what it entailed to win.
Violet didn’t struggle against the grip, instead returning the kiss with equal vigor. Trixie didn’t let off, continuing to kiss her roughly and in the heat of the moment, he bit down on her lip harshly.
Violet responded with a strangled noise, bucking her hips instinctively.
This reaction surprised Trixie enough to pull away. He released his grip on her arms and they fell limply to her sides as she slid slightly against the wall. Violet looked spent and the sight of her flushed and panting redirected whatever blood flow was left to his brain southbound.
Trixie let himself slump forward on to Violet. She felt his whole body against hers and found the rigidness between his legs pressing against her thigh. Trixie took her hand again and guided it to press against his erection over his pants. Violet perked up, this had got to be an admission of defeat.
“Nobody makes me as hard as you do,” Trixie said in a strained voice. It was a strangely intimate statement. More intimate than Trixie probably realized. This caught Violet off-guard and despite her flushed skin, she blushed. Her sure-win was suddenly becoming unclear again as her mind began to race at Trixie’s words. Violet kept thinking about how much she liked having Trixie like this, pressed up against her and so very conscious about how much he wants her.
Trixie didn’t make an attempt to move and was seemingly unaware of Violet’s internal crisis.
“It wasn’t the game or whatever,” Trixie began, “I brought you here cause I wanted to do that.”
Violet wondered if Trixie was hearing what he was saying, she wonders if he’s still playing the game because her winning was starting to feel like she was losing again. But this time, he seemed to have little desire to analyze his own words, just content in having said those things out loud. Violet remained quiet, although she could swear that Trixie could feel her heart rattling against her rib cage. If he did, he didn’t say anything about it.
A few minutes more passed before Trixie pushed himself off Violet, gesturing to the door. Violet understood this as them needing to get out before people got suspicious. Trixie chuckled when he saw how messed up Violet looked. She glared at him but was met with Trixie’s apologetic smile. For some reason, neither of them was saying anything. Trixie left first and Violet took the time to fix herself up and gather her thoughts. Her mind was in a whirl, she wanted to do something about it.
It was easier than she thought, to forget that they were in a game. Even though everything before was just that.
Violet suddenly rushed out of the bathroom to look for Trixie, the thought of the game now filed under things that don’t matter. No more sneaking around, she just wanted to kiss Trixie again. Maybe in the middle of a boat full of their peers and queer cruisers, it didn’t matter.
She found him on the other side of the deck, leaning against a railing. Violet made her way to Trixie, not noticing that he was talking to their friends. Trixie spotted her when she was a few meters away and made a face as if he hadn’t seen her all night long. The fake expression fell away, however, when he realized Violet was making a beeline for him.
Right before Violet reached him, there was a loud explosion in the sky behind Violet. She didn’t turn around, however, fixated only on Trixie. She watched the flashes of colors appear on his face and only then did she realize that they were surrounded by people they knew.
Fuck it, let them see.
Violet pulled Trixie by his shirt and pressed her mouth onto his. When Trixie wrapped his arms around her waist, it felt like her last victory for the night.
When they pulled away from the kiss, the fireworks were still ongoing. Everyone on the deck was fixated on the sight. Including everyone around that they knew.
Trixie looked at Violet incredulously. Nobody saw them.
“How did you know that there was going to be a fireworks display?”
Violet laughed, as surprised as Trixie was because she had no idea, no idea at all.
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Apparently when I’m sleep deprived I write horror stories. Please enjoy the fruits of my suffering.
It’s too damn cold. The alley is dark, filthy, freezing, and—was that a rat or a cat?! Or was it a cat-sized rat?! I shudder. Gaud, I don’t want to be here.
I freeze, feeling eyes boring at me from beyond the void, assessing me, judging me. I don’t look, barely breathe, and pray the pink eldritch creature moves on.
Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to hours, time flowing like molasses under Their fathomless stare.
I’m getting lightheaded, I need to breathe! Breathe damn it! Why won’t my lungs work?!
Finally, finally, Gaud looks away, and I slump against the alley wall behind me, gasping for breath. This is crazy, I should just go before I draw Their attention again! I should just—
No, no. It’ll all be worth it, soon enough. I just need to be patient.
Where the fuck is he?
I check my watch, see he’s ten minutes late. Did something happen? Was he caught? Am I next?
No, no I’d have already been taken by now if he had. Just be patient. This is worth it. Breathe.
Crunching from my left startled me, and I whip around to see my contact trudging through the dirty snow from the other end of the allyway. I can’t see his face very well, the shadows are too dark for that, but his triumph is obvious in his body language.
“You’re late.”
“Yeah yeah. You trying breaking into G—“ he cuts off, looking around nervously. I shudder at the close call. That would have been bad. We can’t afford their attention again, not now. “Th-their place and not take a damn millennia. Do you know what I had to go through?” I open my mouth to answer, but he steamrolls right over me. “Hell! That’s what I had to go through! Literal hell, and a couple of crazy ass pocket dimensions all connected to each other! And that’s just to get to the damn front door! Never again, I tell you! Never again!”
“Well did you get it?!”
“Did I—? Did you not hear what just I said?!”
“Of course I heard you, but if you got it, neither of us will have to go back.”
He huffs and grumbles, before finally nodding with a reluctant sigh. “Yeah, I got it.” He starts to reach into his backpack before pausing again. What the fuck now? “You do realize...once They’ve realized what we’ve done, that we took it, we’re both taking a one-way trip there, right? And we’re not gonna be coming back? At least, not as we are.”
“I know the risks,” I hiss. “You told me them repeatedly before we started, I don’t need you telling me again now when it’s far too late! Now give me the stupid thing already! Before we’re caught!”
He hesitates another moment, before finally pulling a package from his bag. It is deceptively small and unassuming, all brown and black patterned paper and string cord wrapped around an object the size of book. I snatch it from him, shoving it in my own bag as I turn away.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” he scoffs. “We’ll both be suffering by the time this is over.”
“I know. But it’s worth it.”
“Yeah...for what it’s worth? It’s been an honor to know and work with you.”
My breath hitches. “Same.”
“Go. I’ll act as a distraction.”
I shudder. That was an awful role to play, but then, so is mine. The nessesary tasks are always the cruelest. “Goodbye.”
Without another word we both take off into the snow, he to his death, me to the shadows.
I scurry between alleys and back ways, avoiding the busier streets full of watchful eyes and cultists that would soon be on the lookout for me.
I used to be one of those sheep once, just another part of the mindless flock. Then I got rescued, deprogrammed. Joined the resistance.
Never again. And soon, they’ll be free too.
I make it back to my current safe house without incident, though how safe it is at the moment is up in the air. It‘s just a shitty one-room appartment, barely more than a studio, but it works for keeping my head down.
Quickly putting the place on lockdown against human interference, I settle into the living room to prepare the magical defenses for the supernatural ones. Wards, talismans, barriers, all preprepared in advance and put up in minutes. Next come the containment magics, to keep what happens inside from being noticed from anyone outside; and to keep anything inside from escaping. Finally comes the special spells, the blackest of magic, intended only for punishing the worst of offenders.
Once done, the appartment is fully cut off from the world; it’s own sealed pocket dimension, completely untethered from the rest of reality. No way in or out. I am sealed inside, trapped forever in this shitty apartment. Assuming I survive this, I’ll still end up dying in here. Whether from running out of food or from the pipes being cut off from water, this place will be my grave.
But it is necessary. I can’t do my task if I can still be found, after all. And the one I am running from is too powerful to take any chances.
Finally, with all my preparations complete, I take the package out of my backpack again. It feels too heavy in my hand for such a small thing, and I am quick to place it on the table.
A closer look reveals that the black and brown pattern on the paper is actually a mess of notice-me-not seals and anti-scrying spells, and the string it’s tied together with is covered with similar lines. I carefully unwrap it, needing to know exactly what it is I’m working with here. Inside the package is a silk bag, the fabric woven with containment charms and spells. I pull open it’s drawstring to find another magicked silk bag and an iron box, similar containment magics hammered and shaped right into the metal. It’s sealed with a thick iron padlock, the key to which is in the other silk bag. I quickly unlock the iron box to find a small wooden box inside.
“It’s like a damn matryoshka doll.” I mutter, only to freeze when I actually look at the tiny wooden box. The wood is warped, the grain twisted to form nonsense phrases in an unnatural pink tint. Holding my hand over it, the box feels burning hot, like the wood should have caught fire long ago.
Swallowing thickly, I brace myself before flipping open it’s simple latch. The box springs open on its own, revealing my hard-won prize. The thing I and others would be dying for.
The laugh that bursts out of me is half shock, half disbelief. Inside, looking innocuous and inconspicuous, is a simple pink stick drive. The prior heat is long gone, like opening the box released it, leaving its contents seeming perfectly normal. Like it isn’t something worth dying over.
“So this contains the source of G—Their— power, huh? Can’t believe he was able to fit the thing in a usb drive. Can’t believe it held.” I take the stick drive out and move the containers to the floor so I can have some space on the table in front of me. Something like this..hmm. “How to destroy you? I can’t just leave you here with me, even if this place is cut off from reality, and thus from Them, there’s no reason I should take any chances...” I study the stick drive, weighing it in my palm as I consider my options. “An enchanted hammer would work best for smashing, but that might set the power free...An atomizing spell would do the same...”
I absently reach over and grab a peach from my fruit bowl, munching on it as I think over my problem. My fingers rub the drive absently as I think, and I don’t notice when the tiny piece of tech starts pulsing with power. It isn’t until I’ve thrown the pit away and closed my eyes in concentration that I register the power coursing through me. I shiver at the feel of it, luxuriating in how strong it is. Yes, this would certainly be enough to destroy the drive and it’s prisoner. But what—?
A jolt of panic runs through me at the realization that I don’t recognize this power, and my eyes snap open. It takes me a minute to focus, suddenly feeling disoriented, but I pale when I do. My laptop is set up on the table in front of me—when did I even get it out? It had been turned off and lying on the couch—and my hand is millimeters away from inserting the stick drive.
I jerk it back with a gasp, nearly flinging the usb across the room in my panic. “No no no no no! What was I—?!” I quickly drop the usb on the table, staring at it in horror. “I need to destroy that! Now!”
I go to grab my bag, still not sure what tool I’ll be using but needing to do something, when my hand is stopped cold by a sudden grip on my wrist.
“You know, I very much believe in being kind and patient with people until they cross you one too many times, and then letting neither mercy nor pity taint your vindictive wrath.”
My blood runs cold and I choke. “G-gaud.” My eyes are stuck on the pink digits holding my hand in a bruising grip, and I’m too stunned to fight as my hand is forced to the arm of my chair, my other wrist and shoulders pinned to the chair by similarly pink hands.
“You—but—this place is—“ This isn’t possible, this can’t be possible!
“Cut off from the rest of reality? I know. Welcome to the land of dead gods and forgotten nightmares.” I’m too much of a coward to look over my shoulder, to look Them in the eye, but I start to struggle to get away. Where I’d go in this one-room world I don’t know, but I have to at least try. “Now then, the die has been cast, and the consequences are yours to reap. You should have taken care, mortal.” A fifth pink hand slides past and grabs the stick drive from the table.
No. No!
I struggle even harder, but it’s no use. Their hands are like steel bands, holding me in place effortlessly as They plug in the drive. Immediately, a music player I know I don’t have pops up, a black play button on a sickly pink background that takes up up the rest of the screen. The hand that inserted the stick drive clicks play, and a horrible sound comes out.
With the sound comes a further warping of reality, the walls bleeding pink ooze that quickly spreads and flows until it’s dripping from the ceiling and furniture too, dyeing everything inside that same sickly pink. Even the fruit bowl and it’s contents are dyed an awful pink, peaches turned an unnatural shade.
I try to keep fighting, but the awful audio just plays on loop again and again, draining my strength with every note. Soon I’m slumped in my chair, Gaud’s hands the only thing keeping me from sliding off and to the floor. My chin lolls against my chest, and I can do nothing but shudder and whine pitifully when I feel a hand running soothingly through my hair. “Shh. You’re doing well.”
“Please,” I whimper, and can’t even fight it when the pink ooze starts crawling up my skin. “Please.”
But Gaud just leans in to my ear and starts singing along with their source of power.
Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
@biggest-gaudiest-patronuses
Thank you @biggest-gaudiest-fish for beta-reading this for me.
#gaudy fanfiction#gaudy fanfic#i did a thing#this was not at all what i set out to write#id meant to write a thing looking like a cliche drug deal like ‘psst ya got the goods’ and then itd turn out i bought be a rickroll#but it turned into a horror story#my muse hijacked my train of though; jumped the tracks; and turned it into a gauddamn rollercoaster#gaud why#what even is this modern magitech world i made?#why is there snow? i dunno i just wanted dramatic sounds so i went ‘snow’#there are three gaud quotes hidden in here. shoutout if you can spot them all#cw: gaud#cw: angry gaud#i couldnt sleep last night so i wrote this#gaud im tired#sleeeeeeeeeep#i want to sleeeeeeeeeeeep#who are our mysterious fallen heroes?#one is based on a certain shitpost blog#we may hear more of their story in this magitech world later#the other could be anyone. it could be YOU!#you are more than welcome to declare the other one as you if you want#i dunno why you would. im just putting that out there
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some facts under da cut abt besties az and vy
azrahel:
mexican and korean ^_^
bi as fuck
used to be in a rock band, stopped because he didn’t like his band members. he can still play drums and sing tho
he has a tattoo sleeve but usually wears something over it. its mostly religious imagery
he cant understand any technology, he barely uses his phone for anything besides texting / calling vy
he is weirdly studious and a ‘hard ass’ despite looking kind of like a delinquent
lets vy paint his nails, at one point he has acrylics before they got in his way
vyris
russian and mexican :>
lesbianism
extremely tech savvy, and enjoys doing things like coding. she probably has hacked her school before.
she had colored contacts, from cosplaying miku. adding to this but she total owns a matryoshka jacket lmao [so do i]
when she was little her parents tried to make her do sports, and she ended up getting really into baseball. turned out it was purely so she would try to hit people in the face as pitcher.
she was considered a ‘nerd’ by her sister despite being extremely wild and manic
she steals az’s clothes from time to time...... like a lot.
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ring, rang, rung
It’s McCree’s fault, honestly—but then what isn’t his fault?
He’s sitting on the edge of Reyes’ desk—Blackwatch’s Commander keeps glancing over to make sure he isn’t defacing it with slurs against Morrison or phallic imagery, both things he’s been wont to do on many occasions—toying with something in his brown hands.
Reyes leaves him to it, deciding to be thankful the whatever it is in the gunslinger’s grip isn’t a weapon for once—or at least not something that can be obviously identified as a weapon—when it catches the light filtering in from the slanted blinds, and Reyes blinks at the sudden flash of gold light that flares in the boy’s hands.
McCree seems delighted at the discovery, and Reyes watches as he lays the object flat on his palm, turning it this way and that and watching it sparkle in the light.
“It’s a ring,” the Commander observes, and it’s a testament to how enraptured McCree is by said ring that he doesn’t flick his buckshot eyes up to brightly and sarcastically congratulate Reyes on his mighty fine detective skills.
McCree just nods, transfixed by the piece of jewelry. It’s a simple golden band, as far as Reyes can see. Slightly tarnished, but still glittering brightly in the sun.
Reyes lifts his eyes from the ring back to McCree, noting his look of clear fascination. He pushes the report aside.
“Who’s was it?” he asks. People don’t handle the belongings of strangers with the delicacy and respect McCree’s showing this ring. He didn’t know the scruffy ex-con was capable of such reverence.
“My mama’s,” McCree answers, and Reyes’ eyes widen. His mother’s?
A sly smile curves the gunslinger’s lips as he slides his gaze over to Reyes. “Well, maybe my mama’s. Could be wrong, but, there’s a non-zero chance of it not bein’ hers.”
The phrase non-zero chance immediately alerts Reyes to the fact that Angela Ziegler had some hand in this situation, and he settles back in his chair, watching McCree watch the ring, wondering how he feels about that.
Saying that something has a non-zero chance is her favorite phrase—well, one of her favorites. She has a lot of memorized quotes and lines she likes to whisper to him in native tongues and dead languages that make his pulse spike and breath catch.
Only when she’s done riling him up—when their fire has cooled and they’re laying in the calm stillness—will she translate them. Her pale, calloused fingers walking over the broad expanse of his chest as her bangs tickle his ear, a smile in her voice as she recites the words of philosophers, poets, writers, and doctors.
“Ange was doin’ some diggin’.” McCree’s knowing grin lets Reyes know that he knows exactly where his mind had drifted off to, and Reyes gives him a warning look as he glances back at him.
“Digging where?” Reyes asks, idly wondering how many pet projects and side ventures she’s working on in addition to the mountain of duties Overwatch tasked her with. He makes a mental note to bully her into eating something from one of the basic fucking food groups and see if there’s anything he can help her with.
McCree shrugs. “Not sure, honestly.” He’s gone back to staring at the ring. “We just kinda got started talkin’ about family one day—I think it was her dad’s birthday? Or what would’ve been, I guess.” He glances up at Reyes, a little helplessly. “Y’know how she can get.”
Reyes nods, thinking of all the times he’s seen those impossibly blue eyes spark with something—intuition, anger, knowledge, fear—and then watched her turn away from the middle of a conversation to lock herself in her lab.
What she does is anyone’s guess, but she’ll stay in until she’s done what she set out to do or the next fucking Ice Age rolls in—whichever comes first.
McCree balances the ring on his thumb and flips it like a coin. Reyes’ tracks its brief trip up, watches it wink in the light, before it falls back down into the gunslinger’s waiting palm. He curls his fingers over it protectively.
“Came outta her safe deposit box,” he explains. “My mom’s, I mean. Ange ran a bunch of tests on it, checkin’ fer DNA an’ all that.” He shrugs, and Reyes watches as he pockets the ring before lifting his gaze. “She said it’s so old ‘n tampered with she didn’ feel right givin’ me a hundred percent, but half-best from Angela Ziegler is better than a lot of folks’ best efforts, y’know?”
Reyes nods again. He does know.
Silence settles between them, but Reyes knows McCree has more to say. The air’s too heavy, his gaze too serious. The Commander cocks a questioning brow, meeting the gunslinger’s eyes.
McCree doesn’t disappoint.
“Y’all ever gonna get over yerselves ‘n get married er what?”
��Reyes stares back at him evenly, chin resting on his folded fingers, privately deciding that while that’s not the most unexpected thing to come out of Jesse McCree’s mouth, it definitely charts.
“I beg your fucking pardon.”
“C’mon.” McCree slips backwards off the desk, placing his hands on the dark wood as he appeals to Reyes. “Don’t get all huffy. Y’all have been datin’ fer years now—”
“We aren’t dating, Jesse, for god’s sake, this is a military operation—”
“It’s a goddamn, shambly mess of a family is what it is—”
“That is not an improvement.”
Reyes just sighs. He should never have asked. He hasn’t even had fucking coffee yet—what was he thinking letting the living headache that is Jesse McCree into his office at all?
He mops his face with his hands, already planning his trip to Angela’s lab so McCree won’t have a chance to run this shit past her before Reyes can warn her.
It’s half for her sake—she doesn’t need the headache—but mostly for McCree’s. He has no idea what her response would be, but there is a definite non-zero chance of it involving violence.
“C’mon, Gabe,” McCree says again, all wide-eyed and earnest imploring like he’s begging for permission to go on a mission with Genji to Hanamura that definitely doesn’t involve hunting down members of the Shimada Clan (it does) and not proposing that Reyes pop the fucking question to Angela goddamn Ziegler.
Reyes drops his hands, looking up to give—as Angela so brightly coined—his shitty cowboy son a look of flat annoyance.
“How long have you been sitting on this?” he asks.
McCree rocks back on his heels, and Reyes arches an eyebrow.
“Jesse—?”
“Since King’s Row.”
Reyes kicks himself. He should have known not to use up all his shock on McCree’s first absurd statement—of course there’d be more, absurder statements to follow, because it’s Jesse fucking McCree and he’s a bottomless pit of absurdity. A goddamn matryoshka doll of stupid.
“Since King’s Row? Jesse, that was years ago—we weren’t even—we’d hardly—”
McCree smirks as Reyes struggles to avoid putting a timestamp on his relationship with Angela.
“Yes?” he prompts, smugly, because he’s an asshole.
“Shitty cowboy son,” Angela’s voice singsongs in Reyes’ subconscious.
Reyes flings the boy a look of warning as he pushes himself away from his desk. “You can shove that smirk straight up your ass, Jesse,” he says. “And if you bother Angela with this, I’ll shove it for you, and maybe a couple of limbs for good measure.”
McCree steps back as Reyes gathers his documents. “Don’cha wanna know why I’ve thought this since King’s Row?” he drawls, completely disregarding Reyes’ only half-insincere threat.
Yes. “No,” he remarks stiffly, moving to grab his hoodie. Ange always keeps her lab so fucking cold for absolutely no reason.
“’Cause that’s when she hacked into like, three security systems without the help of a tech, practically resurrected Lena while under fire, and fuckin’ pistol whipped an OR15.” He pauses, before adding. “Oh yeah, ‘n she told Morrison to fuck off in front of a buncha people.”
Reyes sighs as he dons the hoodie. “If there’s a point to this, get there now,” he says, though he does appreciate the reminder of Dr. Ziegler—Overwatch’s legendary Mercy—telling Overwatch’s Strike Commander he could rot in hell for an eternity when he suggested she be sidelined for the remaining mission, as he didn’t want to exhaust her.
Morrison hadn’t meant it as an insult, but really. He should have known better. Reyes and Ana had picked the exchange up over the comms and Ana had almost fallen out of her chair she was laughing so hard, while Reyes just stared at the pale slip of a genius, like he’d just now really seen her properly for the first time.
And as charming as the memory is—and as correct as McCree is in guessing the origins of his affection for the doctor—he’s very curious as to how he came across such information, given he’d been three countries over, hot on Widowmaker’s trail at the time.
He considers asking McCree as much, when the answer occurs to him—Ana fucking Amari.
McCree grins like he can read his thoughts—it’s a possibility Reyes hasn’t totally ruled out—and the Commander glares back at him.
“Don’t go running your mouth about this,” Reyes warns him, pointing a finger. “If I hear anyone else talking about this, I’ll ship your ass out to Ecopoint: Antarctica.”
McCree replies with a flat look because no, Reyes, you won’t do that, because underneath it all you’re a huge sofite and you’d never ship your shitty cowboy son anywhere.
“Sure, Commander,” McCree drawls back, snapping a sarcastic salute. “Whatever you say.”
Reyes gives him a look that lets him know he’ll pay for that sarcasm later before he pulls from the room.
-0-
She doesn’t answer at his knock, which he takes as an invitation.
Her back’s to the door, and he pauses to take in the scene before him.
“Your son,” Angela begins, and Reyes cocks an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, watching her struggle for a bottle of all-purpose cleaner that’s been stashed on top of the actual cupboard, a good foot and a half above Angela’s searching hand. “Is gonna get his kneecaps broken if he doesn’t stop rearranging my supplies.”
Reyes can’t stop a smirk that twists his lips. “Genji?” he asks, feigning sincerity. “I’m appalled.”
He dons his poker face forcefully as she turns her head to assess him over her shoulder with the flattest look of unamusement he’s ever seen.
“I will feed his hat to my incinerator, Gabriel, so help me.”
Reyes finally cracks a grin, and she offers him a sly, half-smirk in reply as he enters her lab and walks towards her, idly kicking the door shut behind him.
“You have an incinerator?” he asks, drawing nearer and watching as she turns to meet him, fists propped on her hips.
She scoffs. “Of course I have an incinerator.”
The moment is so wholly and singularly Angela—arms akimbo, hair a fluffy mess, expression indignant like she’s offended he ever doubted her possession of a fucking incinerator—that he can’t stop the smile that warms his face.
God, he loves her.
The thought—just as true as it’s been every other time he’s thought it—draws him up short, and he goes still for a moment, mind wildly reeling back to his conversation with McCree, the glint of the wedding ring—
He stuffs it behind a neutral expression as he finally settles before her, and she tips her head back to meet his gaze.
One of her eyebrows twitch upwards—both an unasked question and a reminder that yes, she fucking saw that—and he just waves her off as he circles his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
She huffs a sigh as he draws her up to him—contended and tired—as she melts into him, every part of her body liquefying to fill his spaces as she turns her head to rest it against his chest, listening to the sturdy rhythm of his heartbeat
“What’re you thinking about?” he murmurs after a beat, pressing his cheek against her hair.
She hums thoughtfully. He can feel the noise in their closeness.
“How I can steal Jesse’s hat and replace it with a pile of ashes.”
He closes his eyes. “Ange.”
“I won’t really burn in. Just make him sweat for a few hours.” He can feel her smirk against his chest. “I bet if I asked Genji he’d steal it for me.”
Reyes snorts. There’s a pretty high probability of Genji stealing the hat without being asked, just to be an ass.
Silence lulls over them again—warm and comfortable—and Reyes is just gathering the nerve to tell her why he’d come when she interrupts.
“This is lovely and all, but I really do need that cleaner,” she tells him lightly, pulling back to gesture with her chin at the bottle McCree had hidden away out of reach.
Reyes just huffs out a laugh as he stoops down to gather her legs in his arms before hoisting her up.
“Lift with your legs, Commander,” she reminds him, patting his shoulder with a smirk.
He rolls his eyes. “I could bench press, like, eight of you.”
“Mm-hm,” she hums back, distracted as Reyes straightens back up, their semi-combined height allowing her to pluck the cleaner off its unintended perch. “Of course you could, sweetheart.”
“You only use terms of endearment when you’re being a shit,” Reyes points out, smirking back.
Angela gives a false gasp at the accusation, splaying the fingers of her free hand over her theatrically dropped jaw.
“Me?” she asks, eyes going wide. “Oh, my love, my darling, my sugar-coated dish of key lime pie à la mode—”
“I will drop you,” Reyes threatens.
She snorts and waves his warning off and he in turn gently lowers her back to the ground.
He watches her idly as she tugs down her sweatshirt where it’d bunched up under his arms, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder with a mindless flick of her wrist. For a brief moment, he sees the phantom flash of a ring accompany the moment, and grits his teeth as his eyes dart away.
Goddammit, Jesse.
Feeling her gaze, Reyes glances back. She tilts her head, forcing an errant blonde curl to fall away as she squints up into his face, searching his expression.
“What’s up?” she asks, gaze flittering about his form like she’d missed some kind of gaping wound before drifting back to his eyes. “You seem off.”
McCree asked me when we’re getting married and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
He has to bite his tongue against blurting it out as she turns away to begin cleaning. He wonders if he can read the truth in his eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised.
“McCree showed me his mom’s ring,” he says instead, waiting until she’s done spraying down her side of the counter before taking the bottle from her to spray his.
“What could be his mother’s ring,” she corrects him—automatically, a reflex. One of the hardest things new recruits have to weather is Dr. Ziegler’s inherent need to right wrong information. She means nothing by it—it’s just her body’s visceral response to hearing lies and half-truths, no matter how serious or benign.
“Wise shall be the bearers of light,” she’d murmured to him once in the darkness of his quarters.
“What could be his mother’s ring,” he allows, as she begins working a towel over the counter. He pauses. “It was nice of you to do that.”
She puffs up her cheek with a large breath, then blows it out slowly, hands on her hips as she surveys her side of the counter.
“It was the least I could do,” she murmurs. “Besides—the boy could use a good heirloom.”
Reyes snorts at that as she throws the towel his way. “Do heirlooms build character now?” he asks, automatically tensing when she punches his shoulder.
“He needed something to ground himself with,” she replies. “He’s not a drifting, wandering outlaw anymore. I hoped I could find something to remind him of that.”
Reyes nods, sobering. He can understand that.
He personally doesn’t have any such heirloom, but he knows she does. An elegant ring—stunning in its simplicity, radiating a quiet beauty. It had belonged to her mother and never leaves her bedroom.
She’d shown it to him, once. It had dazzled under the soft glow of her bedside lamp, and Reyes had traced the intricacy of the band as she chattered quietly about her mother, her father, her childhood. A legacy she’d built for herself from the ashes of what she’d lost.
Neither of them had even considered the marital part of the ring—it was early days, yet, and they were still caught up in the whirling storm that was them being together to think of anything else.
Now, though, it’s all he can see.
He curses McCree again. Maybe he will help Angela burn that hat.
Angela arches an eyebrow as she watches him, and he realizes he has no idea what his face has been doing for the past thirty seconds.
“You sure McCree didn’t say anything else?” she asks calmly. “You’re definitely bothered by something.”
He doesn’t understand why he can’t tell her. Isn’t that the whole reason he came here? The words are stuck in his throat, struggling for a handhold on his tongue.
He skirts her gaze. “Just typical shitty cowboy nonsense,” he answers.
Her eyes linger on him for a moment before she seems to accept it—or at least decides not to push anymore—and moves across her lab, shedding her sweatshirt as she does.
“I’ve got a meeting with Morrison and Lena—I think he’s still worried about that sprain, even though I’ve cleared her a dozen times.” She rolls her eyes as she shrugs on her lab coat and pulls her hair out of its ponytail, letting it tumble around her shoulders.
Reyes watches her from the same spot, lifting an eyebrow. “You know how Morrison can be,” he offers.
Angela makes a face and he chuckles before she’s gathered her papers and files and is passing him to leave.
She stills—he knew she would—and slots her hip against his, leaning against him as she lifts her eyes to his.
“Ana’s in the training facility,” she tells him quietly, lifting an eyebrow. She nudges him gently, and he curls a hand around her waist in response, fingers splaying out over her ribs and curling just slightly.
“Talk to her,” she insists. “I just—something’s clearly got you distracted.”
“It’s you,” he tells her honestly.
Her soft, warm expression sours as she shoots him a sardonic look, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss into her hair.
“You are such a shit,” she tells him, but there’s no heat to her words.
He grins, pulling back and dropping his arm.
“What happened to sugar-coated dish of key lime pie—?”
Angela huffs, moving past him towards the door and shouldering it open with a roll of her eyes. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”
He watches her go for a beat—it’s always strange, being alone in her lab. He doesn’t like it. His gaze plays over the lab, and as he steps towards the door, a sudden flash catches snags his peripheral, and he turns to see his shift in angle allowed him to see light of the sun catch on one of her beakers, making it shine.
He stares at it for a moment.
Then he heads for the training facility.
wow what's up I still remember how to write.
It's been a while since I've posted anything, and I still haven't really been feeling much motivation to write, and then out of nowhere at 3am I literally jolted awake and was like "what if McCree brought up marriage and hilarity ensued?"and here we are. I wrote this in A Day. Less than
please keep all of that in mind when reading this lmao
I think I'm going to make this a small series because I had so much fun writing this and want to include the other characters. Plus Ange and Gabe ain't gonna decide to get married in barely three thousand words okay like that's just not happening. Also: this is for fun. I know a lot of the stuff I write has very specific canon perimeters but this is just a dumb fun thing. Don't overthink it guys.
Like this piece? Here’s my billboard!
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Hope you guys liked it! As always, feel free to drop me a line if you want <3
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dnd: druid shape and angry dads
so i have druid shape-shifting stuff now
my dm, who is very lovely, told me i could choose five creatures and add one for every additional level i gain
one of the forms i chose was a giant poisonous snake, which was a creature with stats that showed up on a dnd website, so he let me use it.
today i transformed into a big snek to save a little girl in a burlap sack who was sinking in a lake, and just- didn’t shapeshift back (there’s a verb here i know i should be using but i can’t think of it).
we got the girl to safety. we interrogated the weird fisherman dude who threw her in the lake (i didn’t do any interrogating but i was present). during the interrogation our paladin charmed the dude, and while our paladin and warrior were trying to find answers to questions i asked if i could have his fishing rod. our dm let me have it.
i’d also like to note that i missed the last session when they first met the people we returned the girl to, so this motley group of adventurers has returned with the missing girl and a wet thirty foot long giant fucking poisonous snake
anyhow the best part to me is we decided to look for a shop to buy things at because we got some money for returning the girl
our dm flips through his book and has us enter a fucking weird-ass creepy toy shop. at first i was pretty excited because maybe i can buy the little girl a toy to cheer her up or at least help her feel better after her near drowning, but it quickly becomes clear that the dude who is making the toys is making fucking creepy toys. like- a doll with changeable heads, one of which has the eyes and mouth stitched shut? a matryoshka doll where each doll gets older until the littlest one is a mummified corpse. some other creepy shit. but. but. but.
there was a fucking batmobile. as in a mobile, one of the circle things that hang over baby’s cribs that normally have little stars and clouds and things like that, but this one had tiny flapping bats. a bat mobile. a batmobile.
i asked our dm if i could trade the fishing rod for something or maybe money and he gave me the changing head doll bUT I COULD’VE HAD A FUCKING BATMOBILE IN DND AND NOW I CAN’T and i’m upset at myself for not making the batmobile connection or asking for it. also i’m upset i didn’t ask for fisherdude’s shoes or clothes. maybe i could’ve gotten more creepy shit with them.
batmobile aside, back to the little girl who almost drowned. i gotta mention that the two teachers i’m playing with have small kids. paladin has two little boys who are in all of his desktop backgrounds and who he speaks about with great and intense fondness. warrior has a little boy and a little girl who he talks about often and are also in all his laptop backgrounds and are set to his profile picture. these men love their kids. so damn much.
the girl the fisherman almost killed is around the same age as their kids.
and thusly, they were hella pissed at the fisherman guy. it’s- they were so pissed. our paladin who is generally our level-headed, heart-of-gold guy jumps into the guy’s boat and told our dm that he threatens to kill the guy. rolls a fucking 23 for his intimidation check. he ties him up and specifically asks for a separate tent to interrogate this dude, and is more than okay with this guy getting smacked super, super hard and then thrown in prison for life. our warrior wasn’t there for the boat part where we saved the girl but when he came in and heard what happened he said “good thing i wasn’t there, i would’ve killed him” and went haaaard at the dude while we were interrogating him.
our bard and i were sat at the table, she was watching it go down, i was watching it go down through the haze of “i’m a fucking big-ass snake this is the best moment of my life”, our dm is watching it go down and also steering our warrior away from going to the fisherman’s hut to loot and/or burn the place down- the fisherman doesn’t have a hut.
i would’ve helped burn it down, honestly. according to our dm the guy was using the little girl as a good luck charm to catch some fish to buy booze with. also according to our dm, my blindsight (blindsense?) sensed no fish in the lake.
TL;DR i’m a bigass snake that owns a creepy doll, paladin and warrior being parents does come into gameplay and it’s a holy wrath, and i am a bigass snake that can swim, so. i’m definitely going to be swimming directly across the bigass lake when we need to get to a castle instead of going around.
or maybe i could tow a boat?
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Same anon now do the evens to the asks from that post :3c
Oh gosh, I’m so flattered you’re so interested! Here goes!!!
2. Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? Yes, actually! From one of my really good friends, and it’s really nice. Usually every morning, too!
4. Do you find it easy to trust others? I assume everyone to be trustworthy until proven otherwise. I don’t necessarily tell everyone everything about me right away, but I’m usually pretty naive when it comes to this kind of thing!
6. You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? @justanotherurl-not. She would definitely be there with me. It would probably be her fault, tbh.
8. Are you close with your dad? No, not really. I have a long history with him, and while he’s trying to be better, and we’re patching things up, I don’t think I’ll ever be nearly as close with him as with my mom.
10. What are you listening to? Currently my K-Pop playlist, and a lecture from today that I did not understand so I recorded it OvOb
12. Do you like hickeys? Being given one? Giving one? The thought of them? Because the answer to all of them is yes, honestly.
14. Is there someone who continuously lets you down? My dad, honestly.
16. Do you always answer your texts? If it’s clear that the conversation is over/was being ended, then no. But otherwise, I’m the type of person who sends a shameless amount of texts and I always answer them as soon as I have the time/chance.
18. When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? This morning!
20. What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? I was thinking about an assignment that I still have to complete for my class next week.
22. Do you believe what goes around comes around? Absolutely. I believe karma is a bitch, and that it might not strike immediately, but what you wish onto people will come back to you. I try to be nice to everyone specifically for that reason– you never know when it’ll come back to bite you in the ass, you know?
24. Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? We’re patching things up now, but I hope that it goes smoothly and that it doesn’t affect our friendship. So yeah, I guess. Maybe some of my childhood best friends, too.
26. What color is the shirt you’re wearing? Light pink with silver sparkles on it!
28. Is anyone ignoring you right now? I don’t think so? Not as far as I know, at least, but now I’m worrying about it.
30. Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? Definitely. But I’m going to have to be able to live with it.
32. Are you mad at anyone? A few people, but I don’t really know how to deal with anger so I don’t really say anything about it.
34. How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? She will be 21 or 22!
36. Do you have any summer plans yet? Yeah! I’m going to be interning with a psychologist, and probably doing some summer courses. I’m going to try and get a job, and maybe my lifeguarding license too, so we’ll see what happens!
38. Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? I don’t think so? Maybe?
40. Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Not the actual action itself, no.
42. Are you available? I’m single, but I don’t really know if I’m looking right now. Depends on circumstances, I suppose.
44. If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? Probably a nose piercing? But I don’t really like those, so it would be like one of the tiny studs, you know? I do want a second piercing on my ear, so…. That doesn’t count, tho.
46. Do you regret anything? I think everyone has a few regrets.
48. Did you ever lose a best friend? I did, and it was very painful. I’d like to try and get in touch with her again, though, but I don’t think I’m going to….
50. Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? We agreed that we’re going to just be friends, and I’m going to respect that.
52. Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? Yes, she’s my best friend and I would hate to stop talking to her.
54. Did you get any compliments today? Yeah, actually!! One of my best friends walked into the classroom and plopped down next to me and told me that I looked really cute today!
56. Do you own anything from other countries? My friend from Russia brought me matryoshka from Moscow, so I have those and I love them very much.
58. Where have you lived most of your life? America, New York to be precise!
60. Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? No, but I’d like to.
62. Who do you text the most? Probably @mizuritamanami, honestly. But I don’t know.
64. What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? I don’t have one at the moment.
66. Is the last person you kissed younger than you? Nope, all the people I’ve kissed have been older than me.
68. Are you happy with where you live? Oh, yeah, I love Jerusalem a lot. I’m planning on moving back here, eventually!
70. Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships? I believe that open-ended relationships are possible when there is a lot of trust and understanding and communication, but having been in one myself and tried it, it hurt too much and was too confusing for me. Definitely a monogamous person.
72. What do you most like about making out? If someone’s hands are in my hair, or cupping my face, I love that. I don’t know, there are little things that happen like biting lips and stuff and I like how intimate it feels to me. That might sound dumb, but
74. When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other? It’s pretty even, actually.
76. Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed? One of my best friends, I believe.
78. Had sex with someone and you didn’t know their name? Nope, never had sex.
80. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? Not at my age, no, but maybe in the future depending on how things go/circumstances.
82. Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush? Depends on how serious, but I usually tell anyone and everyone that I feel close to….. ^^;
84. Last time you slow danced with someone? Probably my uncle or grandfather when my mom got remarried. So two years ago?
86. How can I win your heart? Be genuine, be kind. Common interests and friendship is also important– to win my heart you need to be someone I can be friends with and hold a conversation with, someone intelligent and interesting, someone who’s a little bit of a dork and can appreciate that I am too. There’s a few more things, but those are what came to mind immediately. Empathy and understanding, too.
88. What were you doing last night at 12 AM? On Tumblr and trying to get my ass to go to sleep.
90. Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication? Not in a romantic sense, but to be friends, yeah.
92. Do you prefer to date various people or do you fall into monogamous relationships quickly? Half-and-half I guess? I don’t really know. I have a habit of rushing into relationships and things.
94. Name four things that you wish you had: A 3DS, my complete copy of Edgar Allen Poe’s writings and essays, a million dollars, a stable emotional and mental state.
96. Have you ever kissed two people in one day? Nope.
98. Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr? Yup! One of my best friends I met on Tumblr, and she came to stay with me for a week last month.
100. Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with? A few people, yeah.
102. Are you too shy to ask someone out? Oh God, yes. It’s a big problem.
104. Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe? Abso-fucking-lutley.
106. Do you flirt a lot? I don’t think so? Usually, I’m just being nice.
108. Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012? Nope.
110. If you could kiss anyone who would it be? I’m going to keep that to myself, actually. Sorry, buddy.
112. Does someone like you currently? I think so.
114. Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? Right now I could only have a fling, but I get emotionally invested and attached really quickly and it becomes an issue. So I could probably really only handle serious relationships, and I’m okay with that.
116. Are you happier single or in a relationship?Depends on the circumstances and things happening. I like being in a relationship, though, because I feel loved and important, and idk it’s just nice. There are definitely times I’m happier single though, and I think right now might be one of them.
Thank you so much for asking, and I’m so flattered that you had me answer so many questions!! I’m always happy to talk with you guys!!
Ask me anything This ask list
#Anon ask#Answered#Thank you so much for asking!!!#I'm really flattered that you expressed such interest omg#Thank you so much#Hope you're having a great day/night!!
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Home for the Holidays (Katlaska) - matryoshka
A/N: Hey, it’s me. Here is the Katlaska Christmas fic requested by an anon. I apologize in advance if this was not what you’d expected, I honestly didn’t know what to expect when I started writing it, but here it is! A fluffy cozy cute Katlaska for Christmas.
“Home for the holidays” - Perry Commo
“Do you have any plans for Christmas?”
“Uhh,”
“Good. We need you to be free until the 28th. You’ve just been booked for a new gig in Glasgow then Brisbane. Now, rest. I’ll see you.”
“Right. Good work, and uh thank you, as always.” Brian said as farewell to his manager on the phone. Shit. Brian was never one to complain, he appreciates his fame, he’d call it fame, his job, the attention, the fans, doing shows; he’s very hardworking and he loves getting booked, he knows his worth and who doesn’t love to get paid, of course. He considers himself to be very blessed, maybe even more blessed or fortunate compared to others in the industry, but he knows he’s done his part. As a drag queen, getting booked, having shows regularly, despite the toxic schedules, is how you’d know you’re doing drag, right. But shit.
So, he won’t be at home this Christmas, he thinks as he pockets his phone. But instead of thinking of looks and songs to lipsync and dance crazy to, he thinks of a whiny adult bambi. Justin told him he would be staying in the city for the holidays, as what he had always done to make sure that he could celebrate it with Brian. Justin had adjusted his schedule, and so did he, so that they could be together, as always since they had started this holiday tradition. The same tradition that brought them together.
He continued to walk the empty streets back to his hotel room. He just came back from the nearest 7/11 after buying some Marlboro lights, as that was the only available ones. It was already 4 in the morning and not many people were up, so it was a peaceful walk, but his head was buzzing. He wanted to light a stick, but his hands were freezing, so he opted to do it in his hotel balcony, while phoning his boyfriend. Yes, his boyfriend for years now. At first, he was reluctant to use that term, but now the term still makes him giddy.
He passes by a local bakeshop, probably opened early, the owner was already placing freshly baked loaves into basket containers, and the smell of bread and hot chocolate, the warmth, the decorations, and the soft Christmas carols hits close to home.
A breeze blows and it chills Brian, so he starts walking again, speeds up his pace a little, fuck, it was cold, and fuck, he misses Justin. Brian decides he could no longer wait anymore, so he takes his phone, opens whatsapp, and clicks on the topmost contact.
He picks up at the second ring, “hey, what’s up?” Brian could hear the mirth in his voice, and his heart sinks as fast as it had skipped. He recalls Justin not talking to him for a week because… now that he thinks of it, it was so petty and small that he doesn’t even remember. It probably has something to do about Brian’s milk cartons or something even more stupid. This might be a problem.
“Hi.” Brian greets, and Justin waits for an answer to his earlier question, but Brian had stopped speaking. How would Brian say it. This would be the first time that they would be spending Christmas apart since they’ve been together. It shouldn’t be that hard, now, should it? But why can’t he start.
“Seriously, what’s up? You miss me?” Justin chuckles, “Yeah, I miss you! SO BAD. So so bad.”
“Aww, I know, babe, but don’t worry we’ll be seeing each other soon, and we’ll make sure to catch up during the holidays, okay?” The younger queen tries to reassure Brian, but he thinks except it’s not, and this was his chance to say it. “Ju-“
“Oh by the way, since you already called, I’m currently Christmas shopping. Sorry, a sale happened nearby, and I got excited, I couldn’t wait for you. So do you want alternating colors of Christmas lights or should I get just the plain white ones so that we’ll have more creative freedom? I’m thinking, you know, maybe our niece and nephews would love them,” Justin excitedly cut Brian off, and this is becoming more difficult for him. He sighs.
“Bri?”
“Baby, actually, I won’t be coming home until the 28th … or maybe even later, I don’t know. Fully booked mama,” Brian just says it, “I’m sorry.” Brian finishes with a hesitant tone, and now he waits for Justin to throw a fit, try and make plans, compromises, cry maybe, end the call, curse him, but so far he’s only gotten a pregnant pause, and the pause is stretching out in a length that he doesn’t like.
“Justin?” It was now his turn to get worried, and stop on his tracks.
“Oh, aww, honey, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re being booked. I guess it can’t be helped.” Brian did not expect that at all from Justin. He tries to listen to his voice to check if there were any hidden remorse in it, but he found none. He believes he can trust himself at reading his boyfriend after all these years. And somehow, the thought of Justin not being so devastated bothered Brian, but he sets that aside, glad that they won’t be fighting during an extra special holiday.
“You’re not mad?”
He hears Justin sigh, “Babe, don’t worry about that. I’m not mad. I’ll still see you during the holidays.”
“I mean, of course, I’ll video call you right after my gig. I’ll see you.” Brian immediately answers, eager to assure his boyfriend, then he sighs, “Ugh, this sucks. I’m really sorry, Justin. You’ve already went on leave and you’ve already prepared, and I–”
“Brian, baby, I know, but it’s okay. I’m okay, honest. We’re female icon legend superstars after all.” Brian laughs at that, and he eases up, and continues walking. “I’m getting the plain white lights, okay?”
“Sure. I miss you. I love you.”
“I miss you too, love.” He could hear the softness in his voice, and he swears, he misses him with every inch of his aching decaying body. “Now, go work your ass off, earn that cash money for our family, our cactus is dying” Justin said in his usual dramatic tone, and Brian was about to laugh, but it was cut off by a coughing fit due to the cold air.
“Are you alright?” Justin asks, “I’m…” how come you’re not mad, do you not miss me, are you tired of me, are you in company of someone el– SHUT THE FUCK UP BRENDA!!
“I’m alright, just the cold air hitting my lungs in surprise, smoker problems,” Brian just replies that instead. He breathes in slowly, trying to calm down. He realized that he was actually the one who was upset. Upset that Justin is not as upset as he thought he would be. Being insecure wouldn’t help him now, he knows that. But Brenda is such a bitch. He should just be glad that he has such an understanding lover, yes, and he would remain Brian’s lover. He shouldn’t be too worried.
“Aw, we’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me you’re wearing just two layers of clothing again,”
“This is why we can’t have children, can’t even take care of myself.”
“You’re basically taking care of a brat though.” Justin chuckles, then clears his throat, and the next thing Brian hears made his throat a little bit drier, if that was even possible. “Hello, daddy.” Justin then laughs, breaking character, and shortly Brian joins him and was able to laugh successfully this time, and he finds that this warms him up. Either the laughing or just talking to him, in general. He decides it’s the second, he can be a romantic too if he wants, fuck it.
He hurries because he realized he is, indeed, only wearing two layers of clothing. A shirt and a cotton jacket, and they’re not doing much keeping him warm, and stirring his thoughts away from the warmth of Justin’s body that he misses so much, and will be missing for quite some time too.
Then he feels a soft warm fabric being wrapped around him, Brian stops walking as he is suddenly reminded of the cold. “Merry Christmas.” He hears the drawl, and he doesn’t have to look back to see who it was, instead he looks at his clock. 12:19 am of 12/25. Christmas.
“Oh, Justin. Merry Christmas. Thanks, uh” He turns around and halting the gangly man’s movements by holding his wrist, looking Justin in the eyes as if saying, ‘you sure.’
“You can have it. I already have this fabulous faux furrrrr, and no I’m not letting you have this.” Justin drawls as he pulls away from the older queen’s cold grip to continue wrapping the scarf on his neck. Brian was surprised to see the taller queen because before he hurriedly left the club they just performed in, Justin was dancing with someone. But he was even more surprised of the scarf being forced on him, he was thankful though. This is actually their first time touring together, and he was sure that the successful drag alumni can’t even pronounce his complete drag name, but Justin taps his cheek, cutting off his thoughts, and he has to hold both of Justin’s hands at that, surprised at their coldness.
“Your hands are cold!!”
“So are yours.” Brian lets go of them at that, and proceeds to apologize, “Sorry.” Justin just chuckles, surprised at the sudden contact, but welcomes it. In fact, he kinds of misses it despite the coldness. Maybe the holiday season is getting to him, and making him lonely. There wasn’t much of a difference between the cold air hitting his bare hands from Brian’s hands at the moment. Brian started walking, so Justin did too. He wasn’t sure where the blonde was off to, but he decides he would stick around until he tells him not to.
“Why did you suddenly leave?” Justin asks, genuinely curious, pocketing his hands to make sure it doesn’t reach for something unnecessary. He thought that the energetic queen would be the type to stick around until a party ends, and is actually the life of the party, but then he saw him walking away hurriedly and too early.
“I don’t feel like being around too many drunk people this Christmas, I guess, I don’t know. I just think it would be exhausting. How about you?”
“Well, I thought you might need—want some company. Don’t worry, I’m sober right now.” Brian eyes how Justin walks. Sober enough, he decides, plus he wasn’t one to reject company, especially Justin’s.
“Amazing. You were able to dance like that with someone, completely sober. I knew you were that kind of girl.”
“Shut up, I am not taking that judgment from a girl like you.” Brian cackles, and the loudness of his laugh, makes him realize just how alone they are.
“What time is it, anyway?” Brian suddenly asks, wondering where he should actually go to.
“12:42”
“That’s early!”
“Yeah, tell me about it. You were the one who left the club so early, and it seems like you actually have no destination in mind.” Justin noticed it when Brian just decides to keep walking straight ahead, and they have even passed their tour bus.
“You’re making it sound like I dragged you out here? Choices, mama.”
“Aren’t you grateful for my kindness? No one deserves to spend Christmas alone.” The softness in Justin’s voice when he said that, melts something in Brian’s heart. “I mean, like, I don’t believe in Jesus, but I love Christmas, it’s supposed to be special, especially for dying grandfathers like you.” It was almost a moment, but Justin just had to add that. Brian slapped him in his arm, deservingly so.
“And what, you thought you could leech something off of this grandpa, you, brat?” Brian can’t help but tease back.
“Ooh, I just might be able to.” Without a warning, Justin grabs Brian’s wrist and pulls him, trying to run towards somewhere. Justin has long, bony, fingers, and they wrap Brian’s wrist gently and comfortably. He can feel his pulse, and the contact actually warms his skin. However, soon the unwelcomed cold air finally finds their way into Brian’s lungs, and he has to cough. This makes Justin halt, “We’re here.” He says, trying to sound his proudest despite being out of breath too.
Brian looks up, and he is confused as fuck. “You pulled me, running, to fucking Target?!” He exclaims, “shit, I thought we were missing some sort of nice scenery or a legend myth,”
“Shut up, this will be worth it. Plus, I never took you as someone who would want to star on a cheesy, young adult, novel.” Justin laughs, but halts immediately, still out of breath. “Do you have some cash with you?”
“I got my wallet, but please tell me, we won’t be wasting tonight’s tip money.”
“Don’t worry. Now, let’s go, and have fun, grandpa.” Justin takes out a pair of sunglasses and wears them, fixes Brian’s scarf up to his mouth, and links their arms together.
“Okay, I got the resources, I already look the part, and we seem to be starting already, what exactly are we doing, Miss Thunderfuck?” Brian is still confused as ever, and he is becoming impatient, although a little bit excited.
“Christmas Sale! We’re going Christmas shopping, and we will decorate our bunk, or if you feel generous, the whole tour bus.” The younger man explains, it doesn’t really makes sense to Brian, but he guess he can spoil Justin for a bit. The gangly man, probably caught that he was unconvinced so he proceeds.
“We’ll be staying for that bunk for at least two more weeks, I’m tired of it being decorated with like panty hose and like sad drag stuff, I mean.”
“Alright, but we don’t even share a bunk.”
“Okay, well, we’re bunking now. I’m offi-see-ally taking Ginger Minj’s spot at that bottom bunk, and as your bestfriend.” Justin smiles at him, and the smile reminded him of a young happy boy, and he couldn’t really argue with him, so he just let Justin drag him through the aisles of Target, and while he was at it, he decided to get crazy and give him a swell time too. Justin was really trying, and Brian appreciates it. If they got crazy looks from the scarce customers, they just went even more crazier and wilder.
They left target, stupidly happy, laughing like drunks, carrying five plastic bags in total. The items getting tackier and tackier in each plastic bag. Brian was glad they didn’t use up all his money though; Justin wasn’t known as Alaska, the trash into treasure queen for nothing, and Brian thinks, Katya is, well, known as the trash queen, and that’s alright. They were able to find balance, and that’s what’s important.
They walk towards their tour bus, Brian’s excitement just grows every step that they take, and he feels like an excited child, and right now, he feels Christmas.
“You know, our family’s really fucked up, and we’re broke, but I actually love Christmas, not because of the gifts, mainly from target, and the either borrowed or cheap class A suit and ties and sweaters, I mean, of course that’s like a huge part of it, but you know, like the main thought of it. Like even though, we aren’t the most stable family, both financially and emotionally, we always make ways to find a reason to make Christmas, you know less shitty, maybe even happy. God, I miss them.” Brian doesn’t know what to reply to that, Justin just opened up to him, out of the blue. Fuck, and when he needed it the most, he is, for once, out of words to say. They both felt the silence has stretched out enough to call the situation awkward. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to just pour all that onto you.” Justin breaks the ice by apologizing.
“No, um, sorry, don’t be, I’m sorry. I just—I don’t really know what to say. I guess, it’s nice that you have those memories and that you, you know, treasure them and the people, and I mean, growing up Catholic, we were taught that, that’s actually the spirit of Christmas, well, next to baby Hesus being born broke, not even at a hospital, but in a probably very dirty and bacteria infested manger, but whatever, one of God’s miracle, I guess.” Shit. Brian just babbled. Justin looks at him incredulously, and Brian tenses, suddenly worried that he might have said something wrong, until Justin breaks into laughter, and the shorter one felt like he broke out of a tight grip and was finally able to breathe again.
“Fuck, Brian. You really are something else.” Justin says bumping their shoulders together in the process, and they continued walking. This was probably one of the greatest gifts he had received in Christmas, a friendship with his most respected favorite drag artist.
The friendship then turned into constant companionship, then a necessity, and then yearning, and now they’re four years in, almost to their fifth year. Brian doesn’t want to make it a competition, but he’s almost Justin’s longest relationship in just a few weeks, even longer than the sensational timeless queen of Halloween. He sighs into his bed, he misses him. He does, and that’s how he knows he can confidently trust their relationship. He tries to engrave that in his head. He’s been tied to Justin, and right now even as he feels sexual frustration build inside him, he doesn’t reach for random trades nor hookers. He hasn’t done that for four years. Then, he remembers how they fell into bed the first time. It was stupid and very childish, he would be embarrassed if he weren’t thankful for it. Justin was just too cute.
“Okay, ready Phiphi. Say merry Christmas,” Katya says to the screen, greeting her fans with Phiphi very close behind her, she was basically clinging to her. “Merry Christmas!” Phiphi obeyed, smiling a genuine smile to the screen, then to Katya. They were facing each other now, faces very close to each other, Katya can smell a bit of alcohol in the smaller queen’s breath, like they were that close to each other. Katya looks Phiphi in the eye, and then it was settled. Why not go for it, holiday cheer! It was just a small chaste kiss, no harm to both of them. Katya ended the video, and really there was nothing in that kiss. She was kinda glad that it was over quick because even though she loves kissing, it’s not enough to make her fancy the taste of alcohol.
It was all just for fun and a friendly harmless kiss, they both knew that, except Alaska didn’t, and Katya didn’t really see her with Detox and Manila, holding out a cheap-looking rushed impromptu dangling mistletoe, watching them by the side.
“Aww, Lasky, come on. For sure, it was just a friendly kiss. Jaremi has a boyfriend, and—“
“I know,” Alaska says, pouting as she cuts off Manila, but she still can’t push down the nasty jealousy that had appeared in her stomach, in the form of butterflies.
“Do you still want to give it a go?” Detox asks her, holding her shoulder and dangling their impromptu mistletoe on her other hand. Alaska had planned this, a perfect night, a perfect set of events, starting with this cheesy kiss underneath the mistletoe. But what if she’s been reading the signs wrong.
This was her problem, always falling easy to the ones who would allow her to cling onto them. Now, she just feels stupid. Katya and her have been spending lots of time together. It shows by how their great chemistry is even greater on stage. Katya even volunteered to room with her at the hotel they’re currently staying at. They also went ahead and decorated the room, they made hot chocolate, and Justin can’t help but stare in awe at the amount of sugar and cream Brian has put on his cup. The sugar high that came as a consequence of his drink led them to Brian keeping him up discussing Lana del Rey, bananas, the Vatican, yoga, and then a fashion showdown on holiday music, which for some reason led to a tickle war, initiated by none other than Brian. Soon enough, they found themselves in Justin’s bed, both of them beat, finally! Brian had thanked him and excused himself to go and transfer to his bed, but when Justin pulled at his shirt and asked him to stay, he did. They woke up, the same way they slept, snuggling. Had Justin read the whole thing wrong? Would Katya have done all those for anyone, with anyone? Was he not special? He thinks maybe that the reason why Katya is so loved is because she has the ability to give off that feeling to anyone. How generous, and Alaska doesn’t love generous people, she’s always too selfish for them, but here we are.
“Hey, Lasky? Katya’s coming over here,” Detox snaps her from her thoughts of the devil arriving herself.
“Nevermind.” She says seconds before Katya arrives with them.
“Oh, look! A mistletoe.” And Katya might really want Alaska dead right there and then because as soon as she spots the mistletoe hanging, she grabbed and pecked Manila in the lips, like what she did with Phiphi.
“Merry Christmas, Nilly Manilly!”
“Oh, how enthusiastic. Merry Christmas too, Katya,” Manila just laughs awkwardly, glancing at Alaska. Alaska was able to keep her cool, she won’t crack now, that would be stupid.
“Next is, ooh, Toxy! Come here!” Detox tries to resist for a bit, but Katya was not only flexible, she was pretty strong too. One character that Alaska had admired and liked way too much, but right now’s a different context. Alaska didn’t want to look anymore, but she finds that she can’t help but look anyway. Luckily, as if right on cue, Sam, the birthday boy appeared.
“Guys, I just came here to tell you that we got cake.” Alaska saw Katya and Detox pull away from each other, Detox immediately wiping Katya’s red lipstick off of her neon orange colored lips. Katya has apparently been too excited and more intense on that last kiss. Alaska doesn’t want to lose, so she thought she’d have her fun too.
“Oh, hey Sam. It’s your birthday, and I haven’t really gotten you a gift,” Alaska tries to hush her voice to a sultry tone as she grabs Sam near her. “Oh, look, a mistletoe.” She pulls Sam closer, and slowly kissed him, the kiss was sensual and slow. Alaska was sure to give Katya a show of what an actual holiday kiss looked like, and make her jealous, if that’s possible. It felt ages when they finally broke apart, and she slowly opened her eyes, looking up at Sam, through hooded eyes, but she wasn’t that interested at his reaction. She’s confident enough in her kissing skills to know Sam’s mind was blown. She looked at her friends, and was satisfied. Katya had a look of shock and a bit of disappointment, that was enough. Two can play this game.
“Happy Birthday, now let’s go get cake.” She says, switching into a very bright smile, tapping Sam’s cheek, to pull him out of his daze.
“Oh, um. Thank you, Lasky. Uh, yeah, guys, cake.” Sam laughs nervously, clearly flustered, and Alaska was proud.
“But what about my kiss, Lask?” Katya pouted at her while whining behind her.
“I think you’ve had enough charity for the year, whore.” Alaska teases, as she proceeds, linking her arms with Sam who was closely beside her.
Katya just missed her chance. She planned to finally confess and let Alaska know all of her feelings for the queen through this one holiday kiss, but then Alaska was kissing someone else, and seemed pissed and distant to her the rest of the night. Katya tried to make a move, but every attempt, Alaska had shut down mercilessly. It also seemed that Alaska was now magically enthralled by Sam, and the pair have been exchanging looks all night, and Katya hated it. She hates it even more that she can’t stop watching Alaska that’s why she catches them.
“Come on, tell me, what did I do?” Katya says once they’re both inside their festive hotel room, credits to the two of them. They both seemed out of place in their very cheerful room. How come their atmosphere suddenly felt sour, it’s like just yesterday they were decorating this place together, having lots of fun.
“Nothing. You did nothing, Kat.”
“Well, then why are you being the cold hearted snake?”
“Augh, then why were you being a horny teenager? Staying in character much?”
Then, that’s when it hits Katya, they were both in a sour mood because of the same reason. Usually people would call her oblivious and loud, but she actually pays attention, especially to the things that matters. And this? this matters. A whole lot.
“Are you…jealous, Lasky?”
“Lolz.” Alaska just stares at her, removing her wig, and turning her back on Katya to face the bed.
“You are!” Katya says as she jumps into the bed Alaska was facing, amused, to get her attention. The taller queen just glares down at her.
“Please, I wasn’t the one sending death glares at Sam the whole night. In fact, I’ve been sending loving adorning looks at—”
“So you were watching me?” Katya says, shifting her position, to lean closer to Alaska.
“Ugh, shut up.” Alaska grabs a pillow and smashes it directly into Katya’s face, but that doesn’t stop the latter one from grabbing her waist and pulling her into the bed, tickling her.
Katya has done this with Alaska before, she knows the spots which makes Alaska cry because of too much laughing. She always loved how red the 49th state gets, all pleas for her to stop disregarded because Alaska looks so happy, and Katya knows this helps her relax. But this time, with Katya on top of Alaska, giving her no escape and continuing to tickle her, instead of crying while laughing, Alaska sounds like she’s hurt and crying, and Katya stops because she feels like a jerk.
“Lask,” Katya says when Alaska doesn’t say anything even after she’s stopped. The lanky queen is full on sobbing now.
“I’m sorry, this is stupid.” Alaska says finally while trying her hardest to hide her face despite her very exposed position to the queen on top of her.
“It’s not stupid, what happened?” Katya is really concerned, she tries to wipe the tears escaping Alaska’s hands and falling into her ears.
“Ugh my terrible make up is ruined,” Alaska tries for a laugh. It didn’t work. The joke just went over Katya’s head, which was too filled with concern now. Katya tries to tear Alaska’s hands away, but she was too stubborn. Thank god Katya is strong.
“Sorry, can’t risk you escaping to stand up to get wipes. You look good. Now, tell me,” Katya says after she’s wiped Alaska off of Justin’s face. Justin looks red, yes, but it wasn’t the red that Katya likes, but still it made a pretty picture, which she really shouldn’t be thinking right now.
“Do you really have to be on top of me to do this?”
“Yes. See, I come from the house where if confrontations are not physically uncomfortable, aside from being emotionally and mentally uncomfortable, you’re not doing it right.” Katya smirks, and the smirk that Justin used to love very much is making his heart ache now.
“See, this is my problem.” Justin stares at Katya, looking to find any sign that she’s figured it out, but she found no sign of that. Justin sighs.
“We act like this, and it has me confused.” Justin pauses and looks at Katya, seeing that she’s finally grasping where he’s going, Justin continues, “And then tonight, seeing you kiss everybody, it made me less confused, but it made me hella sad. And mad, and frustrated, so I acted dumb, and flirted around.” He grabs Katya’s face now, “You’re right. I was jealous, you get it now, idiot?” Silence. “Ugh It’s stupid. Get off now.”
Katya was stumped. She just sat there, on top of Justin, jaw dropped actually. The only thing she was able to do was hold onto Justin’s hand, still on her face. Justin likes him. Justin was jealous. Justin likes him enough to be jealous. And be mad. It’s so cute. Justin is so cute.
“This is actually scaring me now, old man.” Justin laughs nervously, not really knowing what to do. Feeling very vulnerable and embarrassed and nervous because he just confessed to Katya, goddamnit.
“I’m sorry. I—I just can’t process it yet. Dying retired math teacher, and all that. But um,” Katya finally snaps out of it. “There are no mistletoes, we are at a very uncomfortable position, mentally, spiritually, physically, mathematically, but how about that kiss?”
Justin knows that it’s no grand declaration of love, not even an explicit I like you too, but this is Katya, and nothing’s ever clear when it comes to her, except the fact that Justin likes her so much, and he really wanted that kiss.
“Unless, of course, you know, you don’t want to because you’re in drag and all, but I was really jealous of Sam and I did try to kiss you too but— ah” Justin props himself on one elbow, hand still on Katya’s face.
“Katya, babe, you’re rambling.” Justin says, and Katya is close enough to smell mint, and her mind is lagging. This is really happening. “Kiss me, stupid.”
Masturbation is good. It keeps Brian away from making bad decisions. Bad decisions this time means letting his insecurities get to him and ruin his relationship. But it’s Christmas day, without Justin by his side, and it’s making him extra lonely, also extra horny, but mostly lonely. Yes.
He decides that he’d get in drag earlier to keep his mind off things. He has a plan in mind. Go in drag, probably go live to prolong it and provide more distractions to kill time, head to the venue, smoke a full pack, beat the fuck out of her pussy to the stage real hard, live off the high from the audience’s energy, probably chitchat to some, then head home, dedrag, shower, order pizza, eat it, then give Justin the hottest phone sex they’d ever had. That was an okay plan, gets pretty sad and lonely by the end, but hey, he’s a grown man, he knows how to compromise.
So Brian did just that. Instagram user Alaska5000 showed up in her live, so that was fun. After finishing her look for the night and deciding which fan would Katya bring tonight, she tried to contact Justin through whatsapp, but there was no answer. And no, he’s not being over concerned, and yes, he has called like ten times, but still nothing.
She’s already at the venue and probably will be onstage in a few. She tried to distract herself from her missing boyfriend by chatting and getting to know the staff of the venue, some catching up, some introductions, the usual, but it wasn’t doing much really. So he floods Justin with text messages, usually of snake emojis, some inquiries of his whereabouts, some reminders to call him later, and most screaming at him that he better not has slipped on ice and received amnesia.
When the stage assistant tells her she’s on in 5, she decides that everything will be alright, and she’ll be fine. She has a plan to stick to, and that includes seeing her boyfriend through a screen, real time. She’ll see him. So she performed with extra extra energy tonight, slamming her pussy on the floor, slamming people’s faces on her pussy, the usual. But she finds she can’t really get into it too much, and she’s just wishing for everything to be over, and for her to be back into her hotel, and worry over her boyfriend, possibly cry, but yeah, that’s besides the point.
So after her performance, she forgot all about her plans, excused herself to leave early, head straight to her hotel. She checked her phone at least 54 times while on the cab ride. And when she finally arrives at her hotel, the seven-minute cab ride felt like it was two hours. She hurried to her floor, and she didn’t know whether her heart jumped or sunk or just actually left her body because she didn’t know what to feel. She just felt like her heart melted and disappeared.
Right there, on the hallway, was Justin in the flesh. Not the cardboard one at Drag World, but his boyfriend himself was there. She can’t believe he flew all the way here to meet her. Katya almost cries, but she runs to him as fast as she could, thank god for her jellies, to embrace him. Fuck, he missed him.
“Hey,”
“Hey, yourself.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You did, bitch, you did! You also almost got me killed for worrying too much; I thought I would have a cardiac arrest.”
“You? I don’t think so. Lung failure, now I might consider.”
“You bitch! I missed you.”
“I told you we’d see each other.”
“I thought you were gonna skype me or facetime me or something that kids do these days,”
“I missed you too, you know. I’m a selfish brat, and I couldn’t have just that.”
“Sometimes I forget that I’m actually dating an even more stubborn brat than I am.”
“Yeah. Now, are we just staying here or are you going to let me in to experience the full show that I’ve prepared, also because it’s actually pretty cold outside, and my feet are killing me. Reminds me of Aspen.”
“Aspen was fun, but alright, milady.” Katya unlocks the door to her hotel room now, and immediately Justin kisses her. God, she’s missed this so much, the familiarity, Justin’s taste, his warmth, how Katya fits in his arms, but when she started really getting into it, Justin breaks away.
“No, that was not the show that I was talking about, sorry, honey.”
“You rotted, gutted, gila monster!”
“I brought these.” Justin revealed the room decorations that he’s brought. Now, Katya could complain that it’s tedious and she’s tired, but Justin is here, he’s tired too, and he wants this so much. So Katya can’t help but agree. This was their tradition after all, and she really appreciates Justin’s efforts.
After about an hour of pasting and hanging brightly colored Christmas decors and listening to Christmas songs. Justin decides that the place is as beautiful as it gets, and brings out some holiday cookies and delicacies Pam packed for them.
“hey, I also brought your ugly Christmas sweater. I thought you’d be cold.”
“You just want us to match.”
“Well, that may or may not be on my mind while picking it.”
“Alright, I’ll shower and get changed.”
“Alright, I’ll stream the golden girls Christmas episodes. Don’t take too long or you’ll miss out on a lot.”
“Sure, babe.” Katya says as she kisses Justin’s forehead, already laughing at the first joke from the show.
Katya showers and just thought of how lucky she is and how she shouldn’t be worried about their relationship anymore. They are both in love and willing to make it work, and she might have cried in the shower, but she can say that it was just the hot water in her eyes.
When Brian finished cleaning up, he saw Justin already peacefully asleep on the bed, the golden girls still playing. He must’ve been really tired. Brian takes away the laptop, tucks both of them in, warm, and he allows himself to be lulled to sleep by Perry Commo’s deep voice on There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays. And he agrees. They’re in another stupidly decorated hotel room, but Brian is home, and there’s nothing else that he could wish for.
“Oh, 11:59. Merry Christmas.” he hears before he falls asleep, and he feels a kiss on his cheek.
“Merry Christmas.”
#katlaska#matryoshka#christmas fic#katya zamolodchikova#alaska thunderfuck#rpdr fanfiction#submission#canon compliant
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Ride you like my Harley - Chapter 2 - Trixya - AnnieSantaWifey
A/N - AU world inspired by the TV show Sons of Anarchy. Everything is told from Katya’s POV.
A/N 2 - Thank you for the positive feedback. ♥ And to the person asking if Trixie is bad news, you shall see. ;) And about the smut question, well, you will have to wait~
A/N 3 - Translation for the Russian words;
Ангел - angel
матрешка - matryoshka
принцесса - princess
Кукла - doll
Барби - Barbie
сука - bitch
T/W - bad language, horrible pick up lines, probably grammar mistakes, mentions of drugs.
To: Barbie
Do you work at Build-A-Bear? Cause I’d stuff you.
She sent another stupid pick up line, trying to hide the grin on her face as she quickly looked back up to check if any of the girls noticed her texting. It seemed like they didn’t since they were too busy fighting over taking in new actors and past gun relationships. Good.
To: Barbie
There will only be 6 planets left after I destroy Uranus.
From: Barbie
Oh my god, stop. I think the last one was the worst you ever came up with.
To: Barbie
You won’t be saying stop after you sit on my face and I’ll eat my way to your heart.
From: Barbie
Tempting, really, but there are so many more places where I can sit instead.
To: Barbie
Oh, baby. As long as I have a face, you’ll have a place to sit.
“Yekaterina!” Shit. “Seriously? How about the no phones in the chapel rule?” Willam frowned slightly at her, raising her eyebrows as she nodded to the phone in her hands.
“Soorrrrrryyy.” The blonde said, trying to sound like Alaska to make the others laugh and turn their attention away from her as she quickly stood up and put the phone in the basket by the door.
It’s been two weeks since she met the living Barbie doll and after the girl texted her for the first time, thanking her for the ride once again, her and Katya were texting all the time. It was a way for Katya to flirt with her without making a fool of herself. Which happened both of the times she went to pick Trixie from work during those two weeks.
The first time she dropped the helmet exactly three times before handing it to Trixie and the second time she drove away before she could get the kiss on the cheek she got after giving Trixie a ride home. She regretted it the second she realized Trixie was actually leaning in to give her a kiss. On the cheek or a proper one? I won’t find out now since I am fucking stupid and drove away before I even could.
Brenda how can you allow all of this? Seriously, you are supposed to help me.
She could hear her phone buzzing from across the room and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking around the girls before fixing her eyes on Raja who was literally burning a hole into her with her eyes. She gave her a cheeky grin before leaning into her seat and listening to what the others are saying.
It’s been the same shit all over again. Raja felt tired of directing, Willam wanted to renew their gun relationships, Violet thought they should start doing something completely different while Pearl was half-sleeping in her seat through the whole meeting with Adore and Laila throwing paper balls on her with Acid drawing something in her sketchbook and Milk being the only one who properly listened to whatever was going on.
“Okay guys, let’s vote. Hiring another director. Yay or Nay.” Raja announced, nodding to all of the members as she started the voting with a ‘Yay’, followed by Willam, then Katya and then the rest of them. After everyone’s Yays, Raja took the gavel and ended the meeting, dismissing everyone.
The president always voted first, then the vice president and then the ‘right hand’ and that was Katya. Plus she was in the club for the longest time after Raja and Willam.
Katya was one of the first to jump up from her seat, making her way to the phone basket, taking her phone back as she then got out of the chapel, followed by the rest of the girls. Being greeted by guys and girls waiting in the main room was always a mood boost. Even though half of them were already drunk and the other half were at the pool table, some of the 'croweaters’ as they called them got up, already being all over them.
“Hey, Kitty.” She heard next to her ear a sly voice, turning over she saw..Emma, Lyla, Cherry..fuck. It was Cherry, yes, Cherry.
“Heya.” She replied, her whole body posture showing that she wasn’t in the mood for anything, she only gave the girl a smile and went down the hall to the backrooms, to her own room. She hasn’t fucked anyone for a week and three days now. It was very, very unusual for her but she just wasn’t in the mood lately. Or that’s what she told herself anyway.
All of the girls had their own homes but Katya and Laila stayed at the club house, not really feeling the settle down vibe like everyone else. Adore had a longtime boyfriend Roy, Raja and Willam lived with each others since forever, as did Pearl and Violet but they were fucking so that was no surprise. Milk had a boyfriend as well but they kept breaking up and getting back together so you can’t really ever know. And as far for Acid, Katya never knew what the fuck she is doing.
After finally closing the door behind her, she checked her phone to find not one but two new messages from Trixie. And a picture! Score.
From: Trixie
I am going to send you a picture and you need to tell me what you think about this hairstyle because Sarah has been up my ass lately for wearing my hair too big apparently.
To: Trixie
The only way your hair can look any better is on my pillow, Ангел.
From: Trixie
That one was good, I give you that. Have you been watching tutorials on how to flirt? Because you are getting better.
To: Trixie
I have been watching tutorials about more things you would like.
From: Trixie
Like cooking? Because I am hungry. Send me money so I can feed myself, pls. The only thing I have home are probably Oreos. If Kim didn’t eat them already.
To: Trixie
Your legs are like an Oreo Cookie. I wanna split them and eat all the good stuff in the middle.
From: Trixie
I hate you.
The biker laughed out loud, knowing very well that on the other end of the city, the another girl was blushing crazily and she would sell all her guns to see it.
Well, that’s a lie. But the meaning was the same. Come on, Yekaterina, get your game back on.
To: Trixie
Okay, you can do that for now, Tracy. But I need you to stop hating me tomorrow because I am taking you out for dinner after your shift. I will be waiting in my dumpster, матрешка.
From: Trixie
I get out at 6. xx
From: Trixie
And remember that I am a vegetarian!
To: Trixie
I know.
——
“Hello, there. Do you have a shovel? Cause I’m diggin’ that ass!” Katya called out as soon as Trixie stepped out of the store.
“And they say people are different in person.” The taller girl rolled her eyes as she walked down the few steps, a smile hovering over her face that Katya very well noticed. Shitty dirty pick up lines didn’t work on many people and she was sure Trixie would deny it everytime she would ask her about it but she knew they were making her smile and blush. Score.
“I got you someting, принцесса.” The blonde said, jumping down on the ground and taking off her backpack, handing the other girl a weirdly looking package that looked like drugs could definitely be in there.
Flowers on first date? Uh, no, old school. You have to step your pussy up. And yes, this is a date, Brenda. Mark it down. At least I think it is.
Trixie took the bag with slightly confused look on her face, throwing her hair back over her shoulder as she opened the bag with a little concern about what she is going to find in there.
It was a Barbie. A Barbie that had a leather jacket on. Ripped tights, red lips and long blonde hair. It was a Barbie that could literally pass for Katya.
“Want to make sure you are always on my mind, huh?”
“Aren’t I?”
“Shut up you whore.” They both laughed before Trixie continued. “But thank you. This is really cute. Hey, don’t make that face, it’s cute! And nice.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, whatever, Barbie.” Katya waved her hand at her, rolling her eyes at the same time but inside she was jumping like a happy puppy at the fact that Trixie liked her gift.
Good job, Brenda.
“Now come on, jump on.” She walked to her bike, handing Trixie the helmet as usual, taking the keys out of her pocket, her fingers not really listening to her apparently as the keys fell down on the ground. Of course, Yekaterina, do you have to drop everything?
But then Trixie bent down to pick them up. Oh, yes. You do have to drop everything. Ass, hips, thighs, thighs, thighs.
The keys were back in her hand and she took another step before 'accidentally’ dropping them again, a smirk placed on her face as she watched Trixie bend down once again.
“Mother, I have been thinking about those thighs, again.”
“You bitch!” The girl yelled out once she realized what Katya has been doing, hitting her shoulder before shoving the keys into her hand, a blush appearing on her cheeks. Katya just looked like she won a lottery. “Not gonna pick them up next time when you drop them!”
“But dad.”
Laughter flew around them as they walked to Katya’s bike, poking each others sides while walking.
——
“I thought we are going out for a dinner.” Trixie pointed out when Katya parked by the servis/club house, getting off the bike as did the other girl.
“We are. I am making you dinner.” Katya said like it was obvious. She made everyone get out of the club house so she had it for herself. She was quite sure Laila and maybe someone else is going to be there but she couldn’t give two shits.
The club house was usually full of people. The club members, the mechanics that worked in the servis, the 'croweaters’, family members or the people that were taken as a family to the club.
But Katya basically threw them all out before going to pick Trixie up. She didn’t want to wander around restaurants where people would annoy her about club business or something even more annoying. Cooking the dinner at 'home’ just seemed as such better choice.
“Come on, Кукла.” She said, stretching her hand out for Trixie to take because she could see the hesitation on the taller girl’s face, smiling warmly at her when she took it and dragged her along to the club house.
“Home, sweet home.” She sang out once she opened the door, stepping aside so Trixie can come in, watching her companion and her blue eyes travel around the club house. Thank fuck it was empty.
“This looks a lot different than I imagined it.”
“It’s bigger on the inside.” Katya called out in her horrible British accent as she chuckled at her own joke, closing the door behind them. “How did you imagine it?”
“Bikes everywhere, naked people hanging around? Alcohol everywhere?”
The biker faked a gasp as she put her hand over her heart. “You wound me, Tracy.” She put on an overly dramatic voice before breaking into laughter. “It’s pretty much like that but I threw everyone out.” She then admitted, walking over to the main table, dropping her bag on it before skipping to the fridge.
“You have two options here, princess. Either I can try and cook something for us or I can pick up this phone and order some take out.” The biker said as she leaned against the fridge, straightening her jacket as she waited for Trixie’s response.
“You know, I do trust your cooking skills but I am honestly craving some pizza right now.”
“Oh, pizza is my second favourite thing to eat in bed, Барби.” She replied with her usual cheeky grin before pulling out her phone to order the pizza her and Trixie would want.
——
“Katya, my eyes are up here.” Trixie laughed when she caught the biker girl staring at her 'girls’ once again while eating her pizza.
“Well, tell your boobs to stop staring at my eyes then.”
“Shut up.” They both laughed again, Katya feeling better and better by every second she spent with Trixie. She felt so good and comfortable around her, she didn’t feel like this for a long time. She kept on trying to get into the other girl’s pants all the time by her flirting but really, she was just happy to be around her. Friends, lovers, friends with benefits. Right now she didn’t really care.
“So, want to tell me more about the club?”
Katya snorted at the question, being quite sure Trixie must have heard a lot about the club by now. People loved gossip and even though no one said to their faces, they talked about the club behind their back probably all the time.
“How about you just tell me what you know or heard and I will tell you if you are correct or if it’s a complete bullshit?”
Trixie nodded, taking another bite of her pizza as she made herself more comfortable in her chair before starting to bombard Katya with questions.
“The club has been around for ten years?” A nod. “And you have been in it for five years, right?” Another nod. “You had something to do with guns?” A pause before another nod was given her way. It wasn’t a secret so there was no point of lying. Hesitation came from Trixie’s side before she continued her questions. “And now you are making porn?” Katya nodded once again. “And you have a rule of never settling down and screwing everyone around?” A laugh came out of the biker’s mouth as she shook her head. “All of you have to know how to repair your bikes?” A nod. “And all of you have to how to defend yourself, right?” Another nod. “And all of you pretend you are Russian even when you are not?” Another nod.
“Wait! Bitch!” Katya laughed out loud as soon as she realized what was the last thing Trixie said, throwing the crust that was in her hand at Trixie who was laughing as well.
“Just because you can’t appreciate my Russian name and the fact that I know Russian doesn’t mean that other people can’t, сука!”
They were laughing once again, it felt so easy to forget about all the bullshit in the world when she was with Trixie.
“I can also speak French.” She then added with her smirk which caused an 'Oh my god’ from Trixie and the crust being thrown back at her.
——
To: Barbie
Come hold my hand while I get my nipples pierced.
From: Barbie
Your pick up lines are getting worse.
To: Barbie
Not a pick up line, babe. I am getting my nipples pierced in about two hours and I want you to come with me.
From: Barbie
Oh.
From: Barbie
Nipple piercing. Hot.
From: Barbie
Just text me the address and I will be there.
To: Barbie
Thanks, princess.
——
Katya was leaning against the wall of the tattoo shop, smoking her cigarette as she waited for the Barbie doll to show up. She was a bit nervous truth be told but she would deny it if you asked her about it. She wanted to get a nipple piercing for a while now and she finally decided to do it. Thanks for the encouragement, Brenda.
Another five minutes passed, another cigarette finished until she finally spotted Trixie.
And she is wearing a leather jacket. A fucking pink leather jacket. She wants me dead.
“Wow, I am jealous of your jacket.” She said instead of a greeting.
“Really?”
“Yeah, because it’s touching your body, and I’m not.”
She got rewarded with a laugh and a hug. Okay, this is new. Hugs. She quickly responded to the hug, not wanting to look like a fool.
“But you look good. Black one would be better, duh, but the pink one suits you.” She smiled at the taller girl as she pulled back from the hug, eyeing her up and down.
“Maybe I can wear yours sometime.”
Not unless we get married you can’t. But she didn’t say that out loud, she just nodded and smiled once again before they made their way inside the shop.
After spending some time discussing more details with the tattooer, she was finally sitting in the chair, lifting her shirt up to reveal her breasts, her smirk being impossible to hide when she noticed Trixie taking a peek. She didn’t mind nudity, she walked around naked quite a lot in the club house, probably all of the members saw her naked by now.
“Like what you see?” She wiggled her eyebrows at the other girl that stuck her tongue out at her.
I know what you can do with that tongue, mamacita.
The biker then started making weird noises, playing with her boobs as if it was the millionth time Trixie has seen them. “80% sexy, 20% disgusting.”
“Shut up and focus, I don’t want you crying over here.”
“Oh, Barbara, please. I am not going to cry.”
“You are getting your nipples pierced, you might as well cry!”
“I am not a pussy, I am not going to cry.” She snorted as she rolled her eyes.
“Wanna bet?”
An idea popped into Katya’s head as soon as she heard those two words.
“Okay, Tracy. If I don’t cry, you are giving me a kiss. And if I do cry, you can make me your bitch for a day. Deal?”
“Deal.”
#trixya#trixie mattel#katya zamolodchikova#anniesantawifey#ride you like my harley#au#rpdr fanfiction#submission#lesbian au#biker au
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