#these fuckers will slap a smiley face on anything

[foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland]

I need to explode actually <- is a lost cause academically

#night thoughts #im just so tired of school telling me how im worthless and not good enough and disappointing and not trying hard enough and a problem and an #issue and bla bla bla bla bla #and how i Used To Be Such A Bright Student What Happened #and then also turn around and be like We care abt mental health ^_^ your feelings are important :P #Just make sure to be a normal student :D #Make sure to not be Too depressed :^) #Just choose to be the Normal amt xD its so easy ^_^ have a positive mindset :) #Wake up and decide its going to be a good day :) work hard! :) #Do this breathing exercise :) work hard! :) #Focus on your education as well as your health :) #work hard! :) #A good student is a busy student :) work hard! :) #Stop playing video games start studying for your exams :) work hard! :) #come in no matter what so you never miss a lesson :) work hard! :) #these fuckers will slap a smiley face on anything #and act like you should be grateful

[broshot]

how they eat pussy/how they eat you out

contains characters from: jujutsu kaisen, attack on titan, tokyo revengers, haikyuu, sk8 the infinity, chainsaw man, genshin impact (I don't play genshin so Idk how accurate it is)

a few of the characters are mentioned twice !!

tw/cw: nsfw, all characters are of age (timeskip tokrev etc), praising, degrading in one, fingering, mentions orgasming,

english isn't my first language so feel free to correct possible grammar mistakes

messy eater, he's sucking and licking all over, spreading your juices everywhere. his face is wet and so are you, he has also made the insides of your thighs wet. he's moaning against your pussy because he loves eating you out. he's so pussy drunk!! he's just enjoying having his head squeezed in between your thighs tbh! wants to stay there forever. you'll have to pull his head away if you don't want to have him eat you out the whole night♡

yuuji, hinata, reki, itto, oikawa, nishinoya, tanaka, eren, yuuta, takemichi, denji, kazutora, angry (souya), bokuto,

your needs first, he sure wants to feel good himself but you first! he's going to make you feel amazing. sucking on your clit while he has two of his fingers inside of you, he's going to make you cum as many times as you want. will praise you. so much. cleans you up after, telling you how good you did. love these guys tbh

nanami, erwin, levi, jean, daichi, geto, inumaki, draken, aki hayakawa, cherry (sk8), mitsuya,

shy eater, shy at first but when the shyness goes away.. heaven. I'm not lying, he'll make you feel better than you'd ever imagine. loves using his tongue when eating you out. won't let your clit stay unnoticed. he'll use his fingers on your clit at first but will use his tongue as he gains more confidence. will circle his tongue on and around your clit. his tongue does magic. amazing aftercare, too.

megumi, armin, langa, kageyama, sugawara, mikey, shinichiro, chifuyu, osamu, albedo,

confident eater, for a reason. he KNOWS he's making you feel good, will 100% tell you and tease you about it. "you're feeling real good, huh? obviously you are, I'm so good at this." will praise you too. will push his tongue in and out of you with unhuman speed, literally so fast??? circles your clit while doing that, will make you cum so fast. just loves you so much and wants to show it to you!!! his aftercare is so good too.

gojo, bokuto, joe (sk8), baji, hanma, ran, rindou, kuroo, atsumu, oikawa, itto, kaeya,

the meanie, complete opposite of the one above. he does not care. he's just going to overstimulate you and do whatever he wants, will 100% slap your ass and thighs. slips a few degrating sentences here and there such as "you're such a needy slut, disgusting" "you're really going to cum again, huh? did I say you could, slut? obey me." probably little to no aftercare. I hate these type of fuckers but anything for the simps!

sukuna, mahito, toji (tbh)

the meanie but with praising and less degrading and also actually good aftercare, self explanatory, just read the meanie part for this

sanzu, smiley (nahoya), hanma again,

♡♡♡

I haven't posted in ages BYE

merry christmas to everyone who celebrates tho!!! love you all ♡

#jjk smut #sk8 smut #haikyu smut #hq smut #sk8 the infinity smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #csm smut #gojo smut #levi smut #aki hayakawa smut #kazutora smut #mikey smut #itadori smut #mitsuya smut #ran haitani smut #sanzu smut #hxh smut #oikawa tooru smut #kuroo smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #itto smut

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[yikeswtfmate]

Jenga

previous part // It’s All Fun and Games Series Masterlist // next part

main masterlist

Summary: The gang goes to Tony’s pool party. Y/N finds out that Bucky lost at Jenga.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: swearing; threats of violence

A/N: ok, i’m having so much fun with these that i don’t even care they became an entire series without me even realising it; plus, who cares i’ve already posted 4 parts in a week already????

ironic how i’m writing about a heatwave when we’re literally going through a huge storm rn tho....i miss summer so much 😭

Y/N loves Tony. What she loves most about Tony, however, is his pathological need to throw a party for the most insignificant of reasons. It is no wonder then that he’s now invited all of his closest friends to his penthouse, that has a casually built-in pool, to celebrate the first day of the heatwave that’s supposed to torment New York for the next week.

Making her way out to the patio, idly chatting with Maria about a book they’ve both read, Y/N notices how there’s now a huddle of people right outside the glass doors. She can hear Wanda’s shout of surprise, while Clint doubles over in laughter, Viz just puts a hand over his mouth in shock, but she can’t see anything because Thor and Steve are right in front of what they’re looking at. Tony leans back, enough so he can see Y/N from behind Nat, and wiping away at a corner of his eye under his sunglasses, he calls them over.

“What’s going on?” Maria asks as the others break rank to let them notice it’s Bucky they’ve been judging.

“Aw, babes, I was wondering when you’d get here. I thought Sam’s gotten you hostage or something.” Y/N goes to hug Bucky, but she stops in her tracks when she notices the cap on his head.

There’s complete silence, as every gaze is trained on her, watching her narrow her eyes, a frown deepening between her eyebrows. She senses something is wrong, but she’s too focused on what’s wrong with Bucky to comment on their silly behaviour. He’s completely still, his breathing coming out in short bursts, as if afraid to scare her if he’d make any loud noise or move too fast. He licks his lips while one of her hands slowly grabs his cap and yanks it off.

Her mouth falls open, unhinged from its socket and someone takes the cocktail glass from her hand before it slips from her fingers. The blood drains from Y/N’s face and with an animalistic growl in his direction, she turns around and storms back inside. A door slams somewhere inside the apartment, before Bucky can even shout after her.

“Aw, man, come on! I thought she was gonna lose it!” Sam shouts in disappointment, suddenly breaking the eerie silence.

“Well, it could’ve gone so much worse.” Nat says, taking a swig of her beer. “I was expecting broken glasses and maybe a concussion.”

“Shouldn’t someone go after her?” Pepper asks, tone laced with concern, still looking into the direction Y/N’s disappeared.

“No, don’t worry.” Bucky replies. “She’ll come back out to punch me after she’s processed it.”

He brushes a hand through his hair, trying to get used to the short strands himself. He guesses he could’ve handled it better, maybe given her a warning before she took off the cap, maybe even told her before he’d done it in the first place. But he lost at Jenga, and the rules were set by Sam, which he now realises in hindsight were stupid to begin with. There’s nothing to be done now, he thinks with a shrug. Besides, hair grows back, and if she really hates it that much, he’ll just wear a cap around her until it grows back.

Tony slaps him on the back, congratulating him for not looking like a ‘ratty hobo’ anymore, although he himself concedes that Y/N’s going to kill him eventually and with that, everyone disperses into different directions to entertain themselves and enjoy the sunshine and the pool. Steve’s the only one left next to him, arms crossed in front of his chest, water still dripping from his trunks, and yet he still looks like a disappointed parent. Bucky sighs and moves towards the bar, trying to ignore his best friend who just follows him determinedly.

“I just want to say that for all I appreciate you finally deciding to give that ridiculous bun up, do you really think it was the right choice to do it because you lost at Jenga?”

“Hey!” Sam shouts, right behind them. “Last time I lost I had to wear all my shirts inside out for a week. This is fair. A loser’s a loser and he agreed beforehand.”

“Man, these were so easy on them, give me a break.” Thor’s head pops over the counter of the bar. He hands them each a bottle of beer and as they all sit on the stools, he points his finger towards Steve in warning. “Y/N made me tattoo a smiley face on my butt when she was playing, so be grateful she wasn’t there last night.”

As the conversation falls into the typical subjects like jobs, holidays, and how they can annoy the girls next time, Bucky realises half an hour later that Y/N still hasn’t come out. Just then, Nat places a hand on his shoulder, shifting his attention from the debate on who would win in an arm wrestling match.

“She’s in the last guest room on the right. You better go and talk to her or I’ll rip your eyelashes out.”

Bucky nods, leaving them behind as Clint announces that none of the guys would win because Nat would just beat them all up with her eyes closed. He makes his way through the apartment that feels more like a mansion, until he finds the room, which surprisingly is open.

Y/N is laying on the floor, head turned toward the windows, probably watching the fluffy clouds. There’s no point in him questioning her choice of position, considering there’s a perfectly made, heavenly looking bed a few inches away from her, so Bucky just lies down next to her, right in her line of sight. They look at each other for a few minutes, neither saying a word, and Bucky interlaces their fingers together between them.

“What did I say?” She finally grumbles.

“You say a lot of shit, baby. You’ve gotta be more specific here.”

“Don’t be a smart mouth with me, you little asshole.” Her free hand pokes his ribs, hard enough to make him wince. “What did I say?”

“You said I’m not allowed to ever cut my hair.” He sighs.

“And what did you do?”

“I cut my hair.”

“Why?”

“Because I lost at Jenga.”

Y/N sits up a bit straighter, leaning on her elbow, a frown still on her face. “No. You cut your hair because you’re an asshole. You could’ve agreed to literally anything else.”

“Fine, babe. You’re right.” He concedes. “Now, can you stop being mad at me and come out? The pool is really nice and I can’t chicken fight without my best partner.”

“I’m still mad at you, Barnes!” She pouts, trying in vain to escape Bucky’s arms as they lean on the side of the bed, but he manages to grab her and tuck her under his chin, blocking her with his legs.

“I’ll grow it out again if you really hate it that much.” He whispers with a kiss to her temple.

She looks up at him, her hand yet again going to his hair and she tugs at the strands in her usual manner. The curls bounce back, and she smiles softly. “I don’t hate it. It’s just…that bun was so you. I guess I just have to get used to it.”

“Hey, at least I didn’t shave the beard as well.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly pop out of her head and she punches him in the shoulder, earning her a laugh. “Don’t you fucking dare. I will end you, Barnes.”

“Eh, you’d live.” He shrugs. “You’d love me even bald.”

“Debatable.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Do you really want me to cut your balls and you don’t know how to ask?”

“Why do you insist on being so violent with me?” He asks.

“Because I love you?” She offers with a shrug.

“That’s a good reason.” He concedes. “But it’s not the answer to everything.”

Y/N shrugs again and extracts herself out of Bucky’s arms. She stands up, offering him a hand. He throws an arm over her shoulders, and with their fingers interlaced, they make their way towards the pool again.

“How the fuck did you lose at Jenga anyway?” She pipes up, a flare of anger emerging again. “Didn’t I teach you everything you need to know?”

Bucky just stops in his tracks, and leaning to the side in order to look at her, he frowns. “You’re shit at Jenga. You literally won only once.”

“And it was enough to bestow the best sentence in history!” She declares.

“I don’t know about that. Thor seems to love the tattoo.”

“That fucker. I’m going to so beat him at chicken fighting now.” Y/N yells, nearly dragging Bucky behind her now.

“Ah shit, here we go again.”

***

Taglist:

@imma-new-soul​ | @feelmyroarrrr​​ | @bxrnsfeyson​ | @welostkirsten​ | @free-as-fishes​​ | @jessyballet​ | @fckdeusername​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

[parksseonghwas]

espresso martinis and red hair.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

part one!

a/n: there is some wording that, now that i read it, implies???? seonghwa drugged the reader.

i promise he did not!!! for those who aren’t very knowledgable in drink/alcoholic beverages, vodka is a really strong alcohol no matter what it’s mixed with (oftentimes it’s >=30% alcohol) so if the reader has a particularly weak alcohol tolerance it won’t take much vodka to make them very drunk!

that’s how i’ve intended for it to be written! this kinda turned into seongsang x reader sorry :\

another point is that the alcohol names? they’re from irish pubs or bars haha, i’m irish and yeah,,, please don’t joke about the stereotypes

i’m so sorry to the requests i put off to write this

ೃ❅,. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ┊͙ w/c: 2,316

—

park seonghwa was skilled at his job. he grabbed the bottle of kahlua—topped by a speed pourer, of course—with his index and middle finger, flipped it to pour the intoxicating liquid into a metal, double-sided cocktail measure, which would soon flip into a shaker made from the same material. alongside other ingredients, he threw in vodka, espresso, and a handful of ice. the top was shoved onto the container, slapped, and there was a rough shaking sound emitting from the metal as he wasted no time with theatrics or shoddy cocktail shaking. his movements were oddly poetic though.

once he was satisfied with the amount of condensation gathering on the metal, he slowed his rigorous motions and his hand smacked the side of the cups, loosening the top and setting it aside to be washed. he disappeared for a moment to grab glasses that steamed and were surrounded by cold smoke, having been in the refrigerator. a strainer came into view, and the deceivingly shallow glasses were filled with what was known to many as an espresso martini. seonghwa delicately placed two coffee beans in the centre of the drink, and the display was complete.

you didn’t order this. you were about to order, but your ever-so-knowledgable friend told you that “seonghwa makes a drink that he knows you won’t be able to resist”, but... an espresso martini? one of the most basic cocktails? there would have to be a fucking bunny rabbit appearing from the glass for you to be impressed or found to be unable to resist it.

your mouth opened to make a snarky comment, but the bartender’s eyebrow raised in a “you dare to challenge my intuition?” manner, and you found yourself sheepishly accepting the drink. the knowledge that he made you weak would later make seonghwa’s ego inflate like a damn balloon.

the man was all chains, piercings, and cockiness. the bar was a small joint, cosy, but not too comfortable. dimly lit, not dark. it felt shady, but homely. he was free of customers after he made your drink so he danced to the beat of the music pulsating through the speakers, hips swaying and his body completely under his command. his dyed red hair fell over his eye as he watched you take the first sip. a smirk grew on his face as he saw the look of surprise, confusion, and awe overtake your features.

another point to hwa, he laughed internally. really, he’d lost score of how many customers he pleased.

“okay, what the fuck did you do to this drink? why does the martini taste so good?” the snappy words were in the open before you had a chance to filter them, and the previous cheeky smirk was replaced with a laugh and a warm smile. he guessed the reaction, he’s used to it.

the last thing you remember him saying is, “a magician never reveals his secrets.”

NIGHT TWO

the next morning you woke up alone, thankfully. nonetheless, his words echoed in your head, no matter how loud your music blared and wrecked your head. the crimson red colour of his hair would come to your memory every so often, and you hated that he had such a magnetic presence. if you weren’t so hungover, you would have considered going for a second round of drinks with your friend. you guessed he used a higher quality vodka, or a better coffee liqueur because damn just a couple of those martinis made you paralytic.

to your dismay, a magician would never reveal his secrets.

the sound of ice and alcohol mixing in the shaker. the almost kaleidoscopic vision of his hands gripping the metal. the scent of intoxication with a faint coffee undertone in the air. the taste of pure heaven on your tongue as a new style of a basic drink flowed from the opening of your lips right down the back of your throat.

fuck seonghwa.

fuck seonghwa!

his cocky attitude, the smile on his lips once he noticed that his prediction was correct. you could kill him, really. you could kill your dear friend too, she probably told him about the drink, the fucker.

your mind was made up. when the bastard hangover shifted, you made your way to your wardrobe. not long afterwards you were dressed up, not to the nines or anything fancy. it was a bar, not a nightclub or an upscale restaurant. you were trying to prove a point to a skilled bartender who just happened to put a satisfying spin on a drink you hadn’t tasted in months.

high heels emitted a muted clack against a sticky floor, a constant reminder that the owner of the bar probably didn’t give a fuck who dropped their drinks. similar music blurred into the background, the bass vibrating below the soles of your feet as you made your way to the remaining empty barstool.

a cloth squeaked and twisted against a glass as seonghwa cleaned the remnants of beer from it. he wore a white and red patterned shirt, the sleeves rolled and crunched at his elbows. his forearms tensed and flexed as he cleaned, his voice low and smooth as he converses with his fellow bartender, who you knew—or rather... your friend knew—as hongjoong.

the pair discussed whatever topic came to mind, and they seemed comfortable with each other. the elder of the two lifted his head as though he sensed your presence, and swivelled on his heels to face you with a devilish smile. hongjoong simply went to serve another over-eager customer who was practically begging to be slapped.

“espresso martini girl. i’ll assume you’re wanting the same drink again?” a barely there glint in his eye meant that he was enjoying this, revelling in the thrill he got from knowing you were getting more and more flustered.

“i’ll have you know i do have a name.” the words came out sharp, snappy, snarky. you hated that he brought out this nature in you, but you really couldn’t help it. his playful attitude combined with his stunning looks was an equation that equalled you being an internal mess.

a mirthless laugh filled the short space of air between you and the mixologist. either he was impressed by the balls you thought you had to speak to him in such a manner, or he was pissed off. the second option sounded rather terrifying, though.

“i know your name. you were wasted last night and shouting it at the top of your lungs while you ordered rounds for the whole bar.“ the sharp clunky against the bar signalled that seonghwa was satisfied with how clean the glass was.

a flash of a memory came at his description of the night previous.

a loud cheer resounded from your lips as your friend tried to quieten you down, and you mimicked her shushing action overdramatically. “a round of shots for everyone in the bar!” you cried out, brandishing your empty shot glass in the air. seonghwa himself suggested that shots may be a better option since the martinis were loaded with vodka.

“really, i think you were lucky i knew you were fucking wasted and didn’t mean a word of it.” he pulled out a footed pilsner glass, tilted it, and pulled the lever on the coors light tap, then poured the drink with an expert hand. with little foam gathering at the top, seonghwa gave the drink to an older man who seemed knowledgeable in his alcohol taste; judging from the cold glass of coors light sitting in front of him, you knew different.

your eyes rolled instinctively, and your blood boiled with the knowledge that he was right. or... was your blood boiling because you were too hot in the small bar? you weren’t wearing heavy layers or large coats, so what was the explanation for the amount of heat rushing through every inch of your skin?

“fuck you, i wasn’t wasted!” you retorted weakly. both of you knew it was false though.

“wasted or not, did i get your order right last night?“ he leaned over, arms crossed and propping him up just mere centimetres from

you. the scent of various drinks cling to him like a newfound lifeline, and inhaling felt like taking a new drug.

“no, i drink cosmopolitans. but it was a nice shake-up, if you’ll excuse the pun.” cheeky smiles warped your features, knowing you had outsmarted the apparently all-knowing bartender. you watched his own expression contort into one of confusion.

how did he get it wrong? how did he manage to fuck up the one thing he thought set him apart from other mixologists and bartenders? he’ll admit that the pun was mildly amusing. however, if it was to be paired with the fact that he messed up that badly? he was never going to forget it.

you were never going to let him live it down either, and the hours of relentless teasing made the minutes slip away into nothing. you didn’t even feel the time pass, or maybe that’s because he made you a couple more martinis, and you were tipsy once again.

though... you couldn’t really tell if it was the alcohol or his presence that was intoxicating you. maybe it was a mixture of both.

before long, hongjoong was gone and replaced with a completely different presence. the new worker was threatening, yet he seemed comforting. sharply contrasted hair, large numbers of piercings, dark makeup and outfits made him seem... too scary. he smiled at his coworker, seonghwa, and his lips curled to reveal a smiley piercing, almost complementary to the bar that ran through seonghwas bottom lip.

“yeosang, you look like a fucking ghoul mask with that makeup.” seonghwa laughed, a smooth sound you had become all too accustomed to.

imagine hearing it when he’s teasing you relentlessly in bed.

woah. where did that thought come from? you screwed your eyes shut and your hand came too sharp to your forehead with an unflattering smack. maybe it triggered more lewd thoughts, but you’d never tell them to the stranger across from the bar, especially when you weren’t totally sober.

pulled by an invisible thread, yeosang took seonghwa’s place in your line of sight. he got to be centimetres away from your face, and he was almost mocking you. you were tipsy from little to nothing. hell, you even asked seonghwa to “slow it down!” when he was pouring the cîroc. you knew your shit, that was 40% alcohol and 100% a bad decision if you weren’t intending on getting wasted.

he picked up a glass and poured water into it, pushing it back across the bar to you, “i think we can safely cut you off there, hm?” he teased, knowing full well he had no control over how much a customer can drink. still, the gesture sent a fluttering feeling to your chest. he was all piercings and hard exterior, but god he seemed soft.

the aftercare must be godly if he’s like this when you’re sober.

maybe you need to get away from the bar. the bartenders being pretty and your mind being intoxicated was doing nothing to stop any new thoughts from flooding in unwarned and unannounced. yet, the horror on your face after four futile attempts at turning on your phone alerted yeosang that something wasn’t right.

“what’s happened? you look worried.” his features warped and his previously stone cold expression changed into one of pure concern. you laughed mirthlessly, and you watched as the mixologist tilted his head in confusion. what was so funny to you?

“my phones dead. i was about to call a taxi and get out of here but my phone battery clearly had other plans.” your elbows came to rest on the surface of the bar, your chin in your palms and your head shaking in pure disbelief. this night was fantastic, you were bantering with the pretty bartender who blew your mind, and now there’s another equally pretty bartender pitying you as you lamented the loss of your one connection to a way home.

“what phone do you have? one of us might have a charger we can lend you.” after he finished speaking, one of your hands went into your jacket pocket and feebly threw the phone on the bar. yeosang inspected it under the lights—or lack thereof—and huffed out a breath of air in exasperation, “fuck. not the same charger we have, sorry.”

you raised your eyebrows with a flat expression, unfazed by the unfortunate news.

“we don’t have a freephone yet, so is there anything i can do?”

“unless you can personally drive me home, there’s not much you can do.”

maybe yeosang would regret his next words, maybe he wouldn’t. he didn’t really know because he was so used to being teasing and relentless in his mocking ways. if he was to wreck his image over a cute bar-goer, so be it!

“well... where do you live?”

#ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #seonghwa #seonghwa au #seonghwa timestamp #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa drabble #seonghwa imagine #ateez yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang #yeosang smut #seonghwa fluff #bartender!seonghwa #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa scenario #please #bartender au #yeosang au #seonghwa series #yeosang series

[tryintheirbest]

Pain Is So Close To Pleasure - Part 2

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Female!Reader

Word Count. 3.4k

Warnings: swearing, some fluff

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to get part 2 out. I got super busy and then I didn’t have the motivation to write. Now that I’m writing again, hopefully I can finish this little series soon. Send me an ask if you want to be on the tag list. I hope y’all enjoy!

One of the best things about Joe is that he’s a good listener. That’s part of the reason you always went to him with your problems. You knew that he would sit quietly and wait for you to finish talking before putting his two cents in. That is also part of the reason the two of you had been best friends for so long. Although Joe was a huge dork and would always go out of his way to do something funny or stupid, he knew when to tone it down and be serious. You could tell that when he took in your appearance, his whole demeanor shifted, telling you that he was being serious. You rarely heard his serious voice, so you were a bit surprised when you heard him ask, “Y/n, what happened?” You knew you had to tell him. He was your best friend and you had gone to him after all your other breakup. Something was different this time though. You had never gone through a breakup this rough, let alone been cheated on before. You didn’t really know where to start. You took in a shaky breath as Joe let go of your arm and sat back on his bed, ready to listen. “Today was one of the worst days of my life, Joe.” You stopped, looking at the floor, trying to find the words to say. You were caught off guard when Joe, who usually didn’t talk until you were finished, said in a quiet voice, “Is it because of our argument earlier?” You quickly turned your head towards him, finding his eyes were filled with worry and a hint of sadness. You grabbed his hand, “No, not at all. That was just a stupid argument. I honestly forgot about it, but that’s not why.” Joe nodded, seeming relieved. “I’m sorry that we did argue, Joey.” He gave you a smile at the nickname, which had stuck since you were kids. “I’m sorry too, Y/n.” You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand before letting go and placing your hand back in your lap. “So, why was today one of the worst days of your life?”

He looked at you intently, waiting for you to tell all. You took another deep breath, thinking it would be best to start from the beginning. “After I got to the college, I started to take my stuff up to my room. When I got to my room, I heard Chris inside, which didn’t make sense because he said he wouldn’t be there until later. That’s when I heard it.” You stopped again, tears welling up in your eyes. You looked down at your lap, trying to will the tears away. “Heard what?” Joe asked, trying to keep you talking. After a moment’s hesitation, you looked up and met Joe’s eyes, “A woman’s voice.” His eyes widened and you looked away again. “I couldn’t believe it. I took my stuff and ran back down to my car. I sat in the parking lot crying for I don’t know how long. I was going to leave and come back home, but I got a text from him saying that he would be there soon. I got so angry, so I went back to the dorm room and confronted him. We yelled and argued. He said that he only wanted to go to the school because of the other girl. He said...some things and I slapped him. I told him to stay away from me and I left. Before I came back here, I dropped my classes so I didn’t have to go to school with him.” You looked up at Joe, finally finished with your rant. You weren’t met with the usual sad, concerned look you got whenever you got broken up with. Instead, he was angry. He got up and began pacing.

After a moment, Joe said, “I fucking hate that guy. If I ever see him again, I’ll beat the shit out of him.” You didn’t say anything, just shifted so you were hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m glad you slapped him. What did he say that made you do it?” You looked up at Joe, realized that he had stopped pacing. You lowered your gaze and said, quietly “He called you a worthless piece of shit, so I slapped him.” You felt Joe sit back next to you and put his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You melted into the embrace, finally feeling yourself relax a little. “You really slapped your cheating ex-boyfriend because he was talking shit about me? Don’t you think there were at least a few better reasons?” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. It got a small laugh out of you. “Probably, but I didn’t like him talking about you that way.” 

The two of you sat there, you in Joe’s arms. You kept repeating a part of the argument over and over in your head. “He said he started cheating because he thought I was spending too much time with you.” you whispered, not really sure if you had actually said it out loud. Joe leaned back, “Are you fucking kidding me? Didn’t he know that I’m your best friend?” You shrugged, “I tried to explain that to him, but I don’t think he was listening.” There was another silence, but one that was comfortable. You never had comfortable silences with Chris. It always felt like a void that needed to be filled. It wasn’t like that with Joe. You could sit in silence with Joe for hours and not feel an ounce of awkwardness. That’s was being around Joe was: comfortable. Eventually, Joe said, “I, for one, am glad he’s finally out of your life. He was a dick.” You nodded, “I’m glad he’s gone, too. It’s just weird, you know? I was with him for two years and now he’s just gone.” “Yeah, but he deserves to be gone because he made you waste two years on a fucker like him.” Joe said, earning a laugh from you. You reached up, covering your mouth while you yawned. “Why don’t we get you something more comfortable to wear and we can try to sleep, yeah?” You nodded, it suddenly becoming hard to keep your eyes open. Joe got up and walked over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “Here, these are kind of small on me, so they’ll hopefully fit you.” You grabbed the clothes and headed into the bathroom. Once you had changed, you washed your face and brushed your teeth. When you looked at your reflection, you still had puffy eyes, but you did look better. When you went back into Joe’s room, he was already in his bed. He patted the bed and you crawled in next to him. He rolled over slightly, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him so your head was on his chest. His fingers began rubbing shapes onto your shoulder. This wasn’t a new experience for you and Joe, but something felt different about it. You snuggled closer to him, feeling yourself drift off, still not able to put a finger on what was different about the closeness with Joe.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, it took a second to remember where you were. It wasn’t the usual sight of your bedroom or Chris’. It was somehow more comforting knowing that it was Joe’s room. Glancing next to you, you frowned at the empty space beside you. You looked at the clock, seeing that it was 6 o’clock in the morning. You let out a groan, wondering why you were up so early. As you got out of Joe’s bed, you saw a note on his dresser across from you. You picked it up and read through it quickly, smiling as you reached the end:

I went for a run and to run some errands. I would have woke you up, but I figured you needed some sleep. There’s coffee ready for you in the kitchen. Love, Joe.

He had drawn a heart with a smiley face on the bottom of the note under his name. You put the note back down and made your way to the kitchen. The smell of coffee soon greeted you and you all but ran the rest of the way to the kitchen. After making a cup with just the right amount of creamer (Joe always made fun of how meticulous you were with how you liked your coffee), you sat down on the living room couch. You sipped your coffee, letting out a happy hum at the taste as you looked out of the window into the backyard. You smiled to yourself, remembering how many memories were made there. You and Joe chasing each other around dressed as cowboys or robots or robot cowboys. You and Joe laying on the grass, stargazing and seeing who could name the most constellations. You and Joe sitting on the old, rusted swing set as you told him about you deciding to go to college with Chris. You felt yourself frown at that memory, shaking your head to get it out of your mind. You stared out into the backyard for a few minutes, letting yourself get lost in your memories. Suddenly, your eyes went wide. You put your coffee down and scrambled off the couch to try and find your coat. You reached into the pocket and pulled out the letter. Skimming through it, you found the part you were looking for. “The time capsule is buried in Joe’s backyard” you said, smiling. You rushed back to Joe’s room and changed back into your clothes. You ran outside, to the small shed in the corner of the yard. Inside, you grabbed a bucket and a small shovel. Turning around, your eyes locked on the corner of the flower bed. You put the bucket down beside you and kneeled down. “I’m glad his parents won’t be home for a couple of days.” you said as you started to dig. 

It didn’t take much digging for you to hit something. “Thankfully we didn’t bury this too deep,” you said to yourself as you finished digging. Once you were finished, you looked down at that you had unearthed. You let out a laugh at the large, rectangular box that sat in front of you. You put it to the side and quickly filled in the hole you had just made. Standing up and wiping your hands on the back of your jeans, you let out another chuckle. “Man, I’m glad Joe’s mom didn’t have any flowers there.” You picked up the box and took it inside. Not wanting to get anything dirty, you got an old towel from the hall closet and put it on the dining room table. You set the box down carefully, as if it would break any second. You glanced down at yourself and saw that your jeans and your hands were covered with dirt. You groaned and walked back to Joe’s room, picked up the clothes he had let you borrow, and headed for the bathroom for a quick shower. It didn’t take you long to scrub all the dirt off and get clean. All you could think about was the box in the dining room, so you went faster than you usually did in the shower. You were done in what seemed like record time. You dried yourself off and threw on Joe’s clothes. You practically ran out of the bathroom, you hair still dripping slightly, making the collar of your shirt wet. You looked around, expecting Joe to be home by now. You smiled to yourself, knowing that if he was home, he would have already had the box open by now. You sat down at the dining table, staring at the box. You wanted nothing more than to know, to remember, what you and Joe had put inside, but for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You kept looking at the box, like you were waiting for it to open itself. After what seemed like forever, you stood up and made your way back to the living room. You made a face as you noticed that your coffee was now cold. You sat on the couch and decided to wait. “We made the time capsule together, it’s only right that we open it together,” you whispered. 

You checked the time and realized that Joe had been gone for 6 hours. You brought your knees up to your chest, wondering where he was. Before you had even finished the thought, you heard keys in the front door. You jumped off the couch and made your way to the door, getting there as soon as it opened. Joe’s eyes met yours instantly, his mouth turning upward in a grin. He came towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Sorry I was gone so long. How are you feeling?” You turned your head so your words wouldn’t be muffled by his chest, “I’m feeling better than I was yesterday. Where were you today?” He pulled away from the hug and motioned down towards the floor. There, on either sides of his legs, were bags that you hadn’t noticed he put down. “I know that I’m your go to guy for breakups, but I figured this one needed some extra stuff, so I got everything,” You knelt down and looked inside the bags. There was your favorite kind of ice cream, an entire bag full of Disney movies, a super fluffy blanket, a new pair of pajamas, and hot chocolate mix. You looked up at Joe who had a look in his eyes like he hoped he hadn’t overdone it. You stood up and pulled him into another hug. “Thank you. What would I ever do without you?” Joe laughed, “Not be able to survive, that’s for sure.” This made you laugh as you pulled away from the hug and picked up some of the bags. Joe was already making his way towards the kitchen with the ice cream when he stopped dead in his tracks. You were following so close behind him that you almost ran into him. “What’s the matter?” you said, peaking around his arm to see what made him stop. Your eyes locked onto the box on the table. “Y/n, what the hell is that?” You put your bags down on the couch as Joe continued to the kitchen and put the ice cream away. You took a deep breath, figuring you should tell him everything that lead to a box covered in dirt being on his dining table. 

“Yesterday, when I got home, I had a letter. When I opened it, it was from me and you,” you pulled the letter out of your pocket and held it up, “It was from us when we were kids. I read it and at the end it talked about…” Before you could finish your sentence, Joe did it for you. “Our time capsule,” You nodded, walking over to the box and sitting down in front of it once more. Joe looked out into his backyard, then suddenly turned towards you “Wait, so you dug up my mom’s flower bed?” “Yeah, but there were no flowers and I filled in the hole when I was done.” Joe let out an over dramatic sigh of relief, “Good. She would have killed us if you wouldn’t have filled it in.” You let out a laugh, “No, she would have killed you. She thinks I can do no wrong, remember?” Joe nodded and laughed along with you. He made his way over to you and sat down at the table across from you. “So, did you open it?” You shook your head. “I was going to, but I thought it would only be fair if we opened it together.” Joe smiled and reached out to wipe the dirt off the lid of the box. You both laughed when you saw, in the handwriting of your younger selves, the box said, “Y/n and Joe’s Time Capsule. For Our Eyes Only!” Joe started to take off the lid, then stopped and looked at you. “You ready?” You grinned, “Hell yeah I am.” 

Once the lid was taken off, you wasted no time diving into the contents. It was mostly filled with expired food, stuffed animals, some dinosaur toys, drawings, and a few letters. After being reacquainted with your favorite childhood stuffed unicorn and Joe making fun of his own drawing skills, something caught your eye. You reached into the bottom of the box and grabbed two letters. One was addressed to Joe from younger Joe, and the other addressed to you from younger you. You handed Joe his letter, and he silently took it. You realized this was a private moment for the both of you, so you shifted in your seat so you were facing away from Joe. You opened the letter and began to read. 

Dear Future Y/n,

I’m so happy that you found the time capsule! I hope the letter I mailed to you got there okay. Joe and I decided to write a letter to our older selves to give advice or something. I really hope you did good in school and got into a good college. I hope that you’re really pretty and have lots and lots of friends.

This made you chuckle a bit. You could picture your 8 year old self imagining what she would look like at 18. Your expression turned sad when you thought about how she would never imagine getting cheated on. How you had never imagined getting cheated on. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away, not wanting Joe to see. Your eyes caught the last two sentences of your letter.

And I hope that you and Joe are still best friends!

P.S. If you ever get a boyfriend, I hope it’s Joe because he’s nice and funny and kind of cute and he’s just the best.

You read this over and over again, your brain taking a minute to process what you had just read. Your 8 year old self had thought that Joe would be the best boyfriend for you. Your mind started to play back all the times Joe had comforted you after a breakup, how he had always been there for you. You remembered all the times he had made you laugh when you were sad and all the little things he had done for you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding when you remember all that Joe had done for you after this breakup. How he had gone out of his way to do everything he could to make you happy. You set your letter down on the table and stood up. You noticed that Joe wasn’t sitting across from you anymore, but his letter was on the table. Your eyes widened as you read the last lines of his letter to himself.

I hope that when you’re old enough to have your first kiss that it’s with Y/n. And that she becomes your girlfriend one day. You’re best friends with her so it makes perfect sense.

Part of you wanted to laugh at how silly little kids were when it came to thinking of being in a relationship. You couldn’t bring yourself to laugh because you knew that younger Joe was right. Joe was the perfect person for you, and it did make perfect sense because you were best friends. You mentally yelled at yourself for being stupid and taking so long to notice it. Before you could look around to see where Joe was, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned and your eyes met his. “I read your letter and I’m guessing you read mine too..” You nodded, unable to speak because for the first time, you really looked at the man in front of you and realized that he was the one. “Then, I’m really hoping you don’t mind if I do this.” Before you could question him, his arm wound around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as his lips met yours. 

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello #pain is so close to pleasure #joe mazzello reader insert #borhap boys #my writing

[hoodie-bboi]

in honor of school starting, here are some things i either heard or said last year as a high school freshman. enjoy.

(List compiled by @teawarlord and i)

Freshman Year (2018-2019)

I’m just gonna stick my hands down my shirt.

Kai you’ve got a big dick. (Kai does not have a dick.)

I’m crying from the dick.

Stop fingering everything

Don’t judge the lizard man!

YOURE A PEEN BOY!

Can I borrow your uterus?

Don’t fist the applesauce

No I’m not gonna fist it I’m just gonna punch it

I didn’t choose the gay life the gay life chose me

Is your crotch ok?

My brain is soup

If they have a c*ck like a toddlers forearm…

I’m pregnant with water

I’m not having kids and you can’t make me!

There’s cum on my apple

i’m tearing off the cum

Oh shit the apple cummed on me

Who wants to talk about animal sex?

Daddyyyyy UWU

*to the tune of duck tails* TOE HANDS UWU

eggs. eggs everywhere.

If I see her walk through the door I’m jumping down. (30 ft drop)

When I see (my gf) I’m slapping her ass because I’m mad at her.

Fuck you time, you’re just a concept.

I love communism~

Panda bears are resoundingly NOT in to sex! -Science teacher

If they were any more inbred, they’d be a sandwich.

I don’t want to be shanked by your pop tart!

What if everyone had dicks for fingers?

*walking in to a room* I’m not gay, but 20 bucks is 20 bucks.

Don’t ask questions you don’t know the answer to.

Do we do it in Español or Spanish?

“I wanna go to Maryland” “Why?” “Because fuck Maryland” “But why?” “It’s the land of merry” (or Mary, jesus’ mom, idk)

I don’t wanna eat my limp dick pop-tart :(

Don’t screw ghosts, that’s a sin ;)

Our phrase of the day is Multigenerational Butt Licking

“I didn’t eat today” “That’s bad…” “I know-“ “C O N S U M E”

“I don’t worship Satan because I am Satan” *whips poorly*

I finally found out what my cat has been staring at all these years…

No matter how sexy your music is, you can never lick it.

And not the egg??

You don’t stand when you suck dick, dumbass

I love squating when sucking dick. Just *squats* euaaah

Why are you fucking the sherbet with your spoon?

i stuck my finger in there and he starts doing that

I’d rather you stick your human-sized foot up my veen than my ass.

Soft vore your sandwich.

Can forks… mate?

*bursts into room* WHERES THE MEATLOAF??? *takes two pieces of wooden pretend-meatloaf and runs out*

Grunhilda’s in my pants :(

Where is my penis!?

*into headset* I’m gonna kill Gerald. He’s eating our beans. *Gerald runs out laughing like a little girl*

First he eats my beans, then he throws my table.

Oof. I got a big whiff of beans.

Take off those clout goggle bro, you got no clout.

Bruh :(

What do we call an animal that is active mostly act night?

Insecure (the correct answer is nocturnal)

A ball of fire flew out of her vagina

I got the beats, ya bitch

That damn bastard, peein on my carpet

Do you ever forget to breathe because you’re so tired? (Immediately) Yes.

(About Burt’s Bees) Who the fuck is Burt?

“12-8 is 4” (In a condescending tone) “12-8 is 5.”

Some people think ivory powder is viagra

Do you have any on you? I’m asking for a friend…

What’s a hussy?

Teacher: It’s a… very flirtatious female.

oH, so a hoe!

Teacher: I MEAN YOU’RE NOT WRONG

i don’t dislike students. but i dislike this student very much.…

“Are you depressed?” “Hella”

*carrying a shovel* Do you know of any graveyards nearby?

Bro what’s wrong with AIDS?

What if I slap my vagina?

I’m not gonna slap your vagina.

I am so close to becoming bisexual right now

I GOT CHEESE JUICE ON MY FINGERS

“I DONT LIKE THAT SOUND” “Let me suck the cheese juice off of it”

Did you steal my eyes?

PLEASE DONT STEAL MY KNEECAPS

Do humans eat sharks?

caMELS? Do camels eat sharks?

I’M GONNA DEEPTHROAT THIS KNIFE

nO

Have you guys ever felt how soft Kaia is?!

Bro I gotta find out if he’s gay or bi, because if he’s bi then I have a chance.

(from above the stairs) aw man don’t be slappin me like that

(from below the stairs) I’LL SLAP WHATEVER I WANT TO

(above) yo who the fuck said that

I don’t like turkey

i’ll eat it

It’s not turkey, it’s salami

!!???

you schlorped my cheese

twincest is NOT wincest apparently

STOP DRINKING YOUR RANCH WHAT THE FUCK

JACK FROST NIPPING AT YOUR NOSE? MORE LIKE HE’S SLITTING MY THROAT IN THIS COLD

(about kidney stones) Are those generic by the way? (instead of genetic)

Why are you eating your book?

LEAVE ME ALONE

So not to get political or anything but what the hell is oatmeal?

I love when I call daddy!

“I don’t want glass up my cooter!” “No, coffee.” “THATS EVEN WORSE”

I want to slap someone with my ovaries

Did you eat your last brain cell?

Don’t hurt my neck hole

I don’t care about your egg

Peanut fucker

The Ugly Fuckling

While you’re in this group, don’t get on the roof.

There’s a roof?

During this time, we stay under the building (referring to under the roof).

I will throw my skull at you

Don’t put your eggs in my stomach

the egg juiced

I don’t care what you do, just be quiet… don’t raise hell…

Don’t put your egg in my stomach

IT JUICED (about the egg)

YOU ATE YOUR APPLE SO PRETTY

I’m ten? (through laughter) I’m not legally allowed in my house

We are Dong

All is Dong, Dong is all

dong with a capital D

This monster Dong is a Dong and a half

They’re an abomination of the foot, Debra

I’ve fallen and I can’t giddy up

Why are you eating in the dark on my bed?

I’m sure anyone can fuck a belly button if they have a fetish and a small enough dick

stop molesting her ear

so her tummy was open?

yeah, it was

so now she doesn’t have any bones?

w h a t ?

you need to learn to keep your blood

blood is for drinking, not living

i am bsexudkal

i have no king, im an anarchist

The Council Knows, Kaia. You Will Be Tried For Your Sins.

wake up

I made someone scream with my stick

HOLA I JUST CAME BACK FROM HAWAII

We’re gonna be talking about diseases

Fantastic! i LOVE talking about myself!

i thought i could turn the tables…. but the tables turned me!

on?

i’m turned on by tables

bullets are just gun jizz

GUINNEA BUISSEAU IS JUST GUN JIZZ

i have the bladder of a god

i’m sick, as compensation buy me new shoelaces

if you have a canker sore does that mean you have herpes?

duncan blew a thing

can you get better tea?

(offended) better tEETH?

i get my gender validation from a pokemon game

i bet you my room smells like egg… ass

finals week (and the week before)

please don’t talk about furries -my science teacher

the smiley face is frowning upon us

if you want to tp a tree, you tp it so well the best way to clean it up is to cut it down -also my science teacher

i think i have kidney stones up my nose

when someone tells you to hold your horses they’re telling you to be stable (in the middle of the final)

airport quotes (2018)

it’s like a velociraptor with a gun that shoots… sadness

my vibrator fell out of my bag

here's to a new year of learning and/or doing jack shit. sophomore edition coming next year. :)

#high school #school #gen z #gen z culture #long post

[ultra-mega-blaster]

Rabbit Hole

Here’s a story my Patreon supporters got to read a couple months ago! Why don’t you come join the Sleepytime Army? Get exclusive stories and vote on what I write next! https://www.patreon.com/sleepytimeslut

Zoe was slumped down in the back row of the classroom, scrolling through Tumblr on her phone instead of paying attention to the teacher. Like usual.

Oh, here’s a sexy picture to share. Here’s a gif to attach a few lines of dialogue to… She liked teasing the boys (and girls) online, and they liked teasing her. Especially when she was in class and couldn’t do anything about her rising horniness.

Oooh, a hypno story, her favorite. She checked that the teacher was droning on, and not looking her direction, and started reading. Just a couple paragraphs in, she knew it was a good one. She reblogged it to finish reading later, and to share it with her followers (her many, many followers … how had that happened?) and kept scrolling. Ooh! A spiral! Don’t get distracted … But uunnnfff, so easy to get distracted … to get drawn in …

She shook herself, sharing the spiral with a drooling smiley face, and moved on.

“I’m a little concerned, looking at your last batch of papers, that so many of you got to college without apparently learning how to punctuate a simple compound sentence, much less to fill it with original thoughts …” Miss Thompson was saying.

Zoe squeezed her thighs together, feeling the arousal spread through her body. She looked around. Nobody looking. Good. She knew she should be listening, should be taking notes, but all she could think about was her needy pussy.

The constant alerts from her phone kept drawing her back to the glowing rectangle in her hand. BUZZ. Another favorite blog had just shared something, Tumblr wanted her to know. BUZZ. Someone was tagging her in a pic of one of her favorite porn stars. BUZZ …

She was powerless. She had to look, every time the phone buzzed. Every time Tumblr fed her more. She didn’t used to be like this, did she? She used to have, like, an attention span and stuff? Could leave her phone alone for a few hours? Now she was addicted … like she had conditioned herself to salivate at the buzzer.

Or been conditioned, came a whisper.

Been brainwashed.

Cuntwashed.

Drippy cunt. Salivating pussy …

BUZZ.

Ooh! a hot little gif that someone wanted her to see – “wanna ride me like this?” he asked, adding Zoe’s handle. Where was the teacher? Zoe knew she should scan for Miss Thompson again, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

BUZZ BUZZ. Three more guys wanting to talk to her privately. She was already keeping four conversations going …

This one, for instance, was telling her, in detail, what he would be doing to her if they were in a hotel room together right now. She was giving as well as she was getting, egging him on, hoping he was stroking to her words they way she wished she could be rubbing to his. This one was begging her to punish him, and reveling in her attempts to be domineering. And this one … oh, this one kept sending spirals, and inductive texts, drawing her ever downward (or trying to), making her sleepy, making her horny … making her a mindnumbed cockslave …

She tapped the little pencil symbol to make a public post.

“You guys are making me so horny!!!” she typed.

I’m supposed to be paying attention to the teacher right now but my tumblr feed is full of porn and 3 of you fuckers are having hot conversations with me trying to make me horny and IT’S FUCKING WORKING I’m sure my neighbors can smell me I’m so turned on I can feel how drippy I am goddammit I need to stroke I’m not gonna make it

That was a mistake, of course. As she knew it would be. The sharks smelled blood in the water, and circled.

“Just keep watching little slave. Soon you’ll be my little cock hungry whore”

“It’s just so nice to be able to turn off your brain for a while, ya know? Join me?”

“And when I say “horny bunny” you’ll have a powerful urge …”

“Mmm damn what a view! Your nice tight pussy wrapped around my cock feels so damn good. I’m going to enjoy fucking you hard, bottoming out hitting your womb”

“…And then one day you wake up and you’re an empty headed pink bimbo, with no thoughts in your dumb bimbo head but getting bigger tits and pleasing your Mistress’s pussy…”

Another public post:

Ogod now ur all piling on cumming our of the woodwork why csnt i turn off this app why do i keep lookin im not gonna make it im such a dumb hotny cow

Sent.

And back to messaging, the words pummeling her brain –

Blank. Obedient. Responsive. Counting from 10. Letting your mind slide away. Relaxed. Empty. No thoughts. 8. Letting go….

Then, even before she could register the shadow over her desk, a hand snatched the phone from her fingers.

“You know the rules about phones in my class, Zoe,” said Miss Thompson. Zoe made a choked whimper, her fingers mindlessly twitching after the phone.

“You can get it back later. If you’re good.”

If you’re good. If you’re a good girl. Good girls obey.

Zoe whimpered again, as Miss Thompson walked away. She was going to have to sprint to the ladies’ room when class was over. The phone would have to wait. Her clit was throbbing … and she needed to obey.

*****

Later, after everyone had filed out, Miss Thompson carefully and (BUZZ) meticulously wiped clean the blackboard. She liked the board to be as neat (BUZZ) and tidy as her desk.

(BUZZ)

What on earth was – Oh. Right. That girl’s phone was still on the desk. Vibrating away, for some unknown reason.

She sat down and picked it up, turning it on. Silly child didn’t seem to have a lock on the –

A rainbow of porn leapt out of the screen and slapped Miss Thompson about the face.

Cocks going into young women’s mouths. A girl’s tongue on a pussy. “Zoe, are you still there?” Breasts, so many breasts. “Zoe, girl, look how hard you made me …” A maelstrom of dark and light flesh that she couldn’t make sense of for a moment, until she saw the caption “gangbanged fuckslut made airtight with BBC” … which, to be frank, didn’t ENTIRELY explain the picture to Miss Thompson, but it let her figure out what some of the shapes were …

Horrified, repulsed, Miss Thompson started scrolling. And couldn’t stop scrolling. Stories of incest and bondage. Lewd photos and gifs, scenes of decadence and degradation. She shook her head, her mouth open, but she couldn’t stop …

And the hypnosis. Over and over in the girl’s feed, the hypnosis! Glassy eyed girls with drooping mouths, baring their breasts … Women with spirals in their eyes, and cocks in their mouths … Flashing gifs with pictures and words, too fast to follow, telling her how she should be, how she must be, how she knew she already was, if she would just admit it to herself … Inductions, and fantasies, and more spirals, and submissive, drooling women, eager to serve cock, to serve pussy, to become slaves to their own needy cunts …

Miss Thompson hadn’t noticed how hard her nipples had gotten. She hadn’t noticed how wet her own cunt was, until she found herself dipping in a finger … She bucked against her hand, but didn’t stop stroking … just kept scrolling …

Someone calling himself Master of Mystery – except with some of the letters replaced by numbers – BUZZed into a private message. “Getting pretty horny, Zoe? Pretty needy and desperate?”

“No,” she found herself typing. “I mean, no, I’m – I’m not … No.”

“Oh, you certainly sounded pretty desperate to me. You sounded like a little slut who needed permission to cum … A naughty fucktoy who can’t stop touching her princess parts even though she’s not supposed to …”

Miss Thompson bit her lip and with an effort pulled her hand away from her pussy. “I’m not Zoe. I am Miss Thompson, her teacher,” she typed.

She tried to pull herself together.

“And you should keep a civil tongue in your head, young man.”

“Ohhh! Naughty, naughty, teacher … Are you looking through a confiscated phone? And getting TURNED ON by someone else’s Tumblr porn? You are, aren’t you … Go ahead, you can admit it …”

“i” she typed and sent by mistake.

She cursed.

“I will do no such thing. I am … I am putting the phone down now.”

“No you’re not.”

She hesitated. He seemed so sure. She waited, panting.

“You won’t, because you would have already without saying anything. You would have before you got so horny scrolling through her feed.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Because you are horny, aren’t you? All pent-up, tied up in knots …”

“Yes, yes, I am, OK, but there’s nothing wrong with that”

“No, not at all. Tell you what. You seem tense. Let me help you relax. Can we do that?”

“Um”

“Just focus on your shoulders for a second. Feel how tight they are? Tighten them up even more, just for a second. Take a deep breath in. And then let it out, and as you do, feel all the tension go out of your shoulders …”

“what”

“Sshh shh you don’t have to say anything just listen. I’m going to count, and with each number you’re going to release a little tension, and it’s going to turn into warmth … warmth spreading through your body …

“And then maybe we’ll look at a spiral together for a while … You’ll like that …”

*****

Zoe was feeling SO much better – though her legs were still a little wobbly – as she walked toward the classroom door. She couldn’t believe she’d left her phone behind! She hoped she could get it back quietly, without much fuss. There didn’t seem to be a class in there now. Maybe she could just slip in and grab it?

She eased the door open gently … and then almost dropped her backpack in surprise.

Miss Thompson was sprawled, nearly nude, in her wooden rolling chair! Her skirt was bunched around her middle, panties on the floor, white blouse and bra tangled on her desk. Most surprising of all, one hand was operating Zoe’s phone, and the other hand was operating Miss Thompson’s bushy cunt!

She stepped closer, sliding the backpack gently to the floor. The teacher’s breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy … and sure enough, Zoe could see a spiral on the glowing screen. She tiptoed close enough to read over her shoulder.

You want to watch

To let the spiral suck you in

To let my spiral suck away all resistance

You want to become mindless for me, because it feels so good to stop thinking

Each word you read will bring you pleasure, and each second you spend watching will make you sink deeper and deeper, until you can’t help but obey …

She reached around her teacher’s body, and cupped both breasts at once.

Miss Thompson gasped, and then relaxed with a moan as Zoe began kneading her nipples.

“How are you doing, miss?” she whispered.

“Can’t … Can’t cum. Need to … but don’t … don’t have permission…”

“Mmmm.” Zoe tweaked her nipples, massaging her surprisingly full and warm tits. “I know it’s a lot to handle if you’re not used to it. I’ve been sliding into this rabbit hole a bit at a time for months, so I’ve built up a liiiittle bit of an immunity.” Partially true, anyway. “But my feed and my followers must have hit you like a ton of bricks.”

Zoe giggled to herself, as her teacher panted.

“Who are you talking to,” Zoe murmured.

“M-Master of Mystery,” Miss Thompson gasped, her back arching.

Ah yes, thought Zoe. Also known as Kevin.

“Tell him I’m here. And ask him what I should do to you.”

“Master …” Miss Thompson typed, and after a moment, responded.

“He says to get on your knees and lick my s-slutty, juicy c… cunt.”

Zoe smiled. “That’s what I was hoping he was going to say,” she murmured as she knelt.

After all, she thought. Good girls obey.

source: 

http://sleepytimeslut.tumblr.com/post/173458443306

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

Tiff’s WTF*ck Challenge

Hey friends!

I’ve been feeling pretty disconnected - less reading, less reblogging, less interaction - since my job change and having less time to spend around here, so why not fix that with a writing challenge?! Yes? Yay!

One of my old favorite sources of internet humor is Sleep Talkin’ Man. And your assumption is correct, he talks in his sleep. His wife started recording him and posting the clips online and it’s hilarious.

SO - for this challenge, I’ve collected some of the absurd, inappropriate, foul, and funny quotes from that delightful fella and now challenge you to incorporate it into your SPN fanfic.

Rules:

Send your quote request as an ASK ONLY please so that I can keep track.

You can write for any SPN character, my preference is Sam and Dean, but you do what feels right.

Any genre/pairing/trope is welcome, just make sure you tag it appropriately!

One writer per prompt.

Fics will be due by July 1. I’ll post the masterlist just before I go to ChiCon.

Use the tag Tiff’s WTF Challenge to help me track your fic

Yes, you can combine it with another challenge, yes, you can have an extension if you ask for one, yes, it can be part of a series.

No, there is no word limit or max. However, you must use the “read more” feature if longer than 500 words.

Ready? Okay. 

“This is my story. It starts with me. And it ends with me. And everything in the middle is about me. Greatest fucking story ever written.” @acreativelydifferentlove

“You really are life’s wet patch. An embarrassing little stain that no one wants to admit to...or sleep on.”

“I shit gold, piss silver, and puke bronze. I don’t need a medal to tell me how fucking awesome I am. Got that, bitches?” @ellawinchester1993

“I’d rather peel off my skin and bathe my weeping raw flesh in a bath of vinegar than spend any time with you. But that’s just my opinion. Don’t take it personally.” @torn-and-frayed

“You’re gonna have to shave your pubes. It’s like fighting an army of permed spider legs down there, and I’m gonna lose. I’m gonna lose.” @deansbabygirl01

“Fuck! If I don’t get to the motherfucking flower show, I’m gonna fucking kill someone!” @frejahertziswritingthistime

“Why don’t you call back later, and we’ll see whether we can get the world to revolve around you.” @whispersandwhiskerburn

“I’m gonna have a great day...Don’t you fuck it up.” @roxy-davenport

“This little tampon went out, this little tampon stayed home. This little tampon had an applicator, this little tampon had none. This little tampon’s covered in...poop. WRONG HOLE, PEOPLE! Wrong hole.”

“Oh! It’s a poltergoat. A poltergoat! You can’t see em, but you find all your clothes chewed. If you listen carefully, you may hear a ghostly baaaahhhhh. Poltergoat! Baaaahhhhh.”

“Ghosts going bump in the night. Clumsy fuckers.” @quiddy-writes

“I’m like a vulnerable fawn in the woods. One that happens to carry an uzi, ninja throwing stars, and a motherfucking bazooka.” @winchesterprincessbride

“Now I’m going to ask really nicely for you to un-fuck this situation.” @mandilion76

“There was so much blood! Oh, there must have been at least five llamas. Totally unprovoked attack by those puffins. I managed to clip their wings. This is llama turf.”

“Well that’s just great. Peanut butter in my crack. Goddamn it.” @saxxxology 

“I’ve written your epitaph. Yup. I did it early. You wanna read it? ‘Here you are, lying dead. Ha ha ha ha ha.’” @sixtysevenandwhiskey

“It’s growling. Shhh, it’s growling closer...It’s an angry thing, a big angry thing. It likes cabbage, though.” @helloimsensitive

“Hey! You killed my velociraptor, dickhead. That’s so unfair. You do realize how hard it is to find one of those ‘round here, don’t you?”

“Sure you can have my phone number. It’s like having a direct line to God. But better. Because I answer.” @internationalmusicteacher

“How do blind people know they’re done wiping? How?” @mrsbatesmotel53

“I’m sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now. But if you’re not my mother, you can leave a message. Beeeep.” *Bonus points for not using Crowley* @soullessdemontrap

“If she sends me one more fucking smiley face emoticon, I’m gonna shove that keyboard so far up her ass, she’s gonna have to tweak her nipples to force quit.” @kayteonline

“I need someone else to help me catch ghosts. Cause we’re going out to kick seven shades of spiritual shit. Yeaaaah. Ghose kickers! Free floating vapor? Free floating fucker, more like. Come on, let’s get em!” @ravengirl94

“I wanted a shark with laser beams, and I got a manatee with a Maglite. For fuck’s sake, get back in your hole and get it right.”

“If honesty’s the best policy, and the truth hurts, then you’d better call an ambulance, cause you’re not gonna like the stuff I’m gonna fucking say.” @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

“Goddammit! Where’s my bazooka? I put it on the ground, expecting it to be there when I come back. Have you been tidying up again, cause I really would like my bazooka back. I don’t know where you put things. Jesus! Cannot just leave anything alone, can you?” @atc74

“It’s Captain Fluffer! Hero to teenage boys.”

“You’re right, elephants in thongs are not something you see every day. Enjoy it.”

“Back off Robin. Batman is my bitch now. You’re just a bitch’s bitch, bitch.” @seenashwrite

“OK, so that’s your weekend homework. Go home and slap grandma.”

“Your singing can wake the dead. So shut the fuck up. I don’t want any zombies dropping their jazz hands all over the fucking place. Alright? Just shut it.” @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms

“Just put the fucking cow’s head on the pavement and walk away. Leave it alone, stop playing with it. It’s just a head. Ooooh, it’s got it’s eyeballs in still.”

“Happy Birthday! It’s a dead puppy!...Now listen, you: You didn’t specify a live puppy, you just said you wanted a fucking puppy! Jesus you’re spoiled. Now go take it for a drag.”

“I’m losing faith in humanity, one faked orgasm at a time.” @lipstickandwhiskey

“I’m sorry, but not knowing what a horcrux is is a deal-breaker to me. Deal with it, muggle-fucker.” *Bonus points for not using Charlie* @notnaturalanahi

“Vampire penguins? Zombie guinea pigs? We’re done for...done for.”

“It’s amazing how you can smell so bad, but still be alive.”

“Harder is NOT a good safe word.” @lifelovelaughangell123

“Buffalo wings? Are you insane? Those cows can’t fly. It’s a lie, I tell you. A fucking lie.”

“Scales. Must have scales. And razor claws. I want some feathers. And a goggly thing on its head. Yeahhh. Dinochicken. Awesome! I feel like a god. All right, what’s next? Guineapigasaurus. Bring it on!”

“Garlic cheese! Double death to you, you lactose intolerant vamp man!”

“God, you whine like whale song. But a lot less eerie and beautiful and more, well, fucking annoying.” @silencethroughwords

“Dance for me, go on. Oh, you were! I thought you were having a spaz attack...Doofus.”

“Leave my gnomes alone. They’re MY gnomes, living in MY house, doing MY gardening, and they’re happy. Look at their fucking smiley faces. Can’t you see how frickin’ happy they are? Who are you to judge me?! Go on, gnome, cut the grass. Good gnome. Good gnome.” @the-winchester-gospels-and-cas

“You can’t drop them. You can’t set them on fire. You can’t feed them to crocodiles. You can’t let them play with fireworks. I mean...kids: what the fuck?!” @ellen-reincarnated1967

“You know, with you you you, it’s all me me me. Well fuck fuck fuck fuck you you you.” @rizlow1

TAGS: For participation and signal boostage!

@mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @seenashwrite @notnaturalanahi  @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @luci-in-leather @babypieandwhiskey @idreamofhazel @impala-dreamer @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @mandilion76 @boxywrites @sherrybaby14 @sylverminx @there-must-be-a-lock @deandoesthingstome @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @ceeceewinchester @kathaswings @dr-dean @roxy-davenport @avasmommy224 @moonlitskinwalker @docharleythegeekqueen @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @quick-act-supernatural @frick-you-im-a-princes @charliebradbury1104  @blacktithe7updates @klaineaholic  @ilsawasanacrobat  @ayeeitsemry @hexparker @quiddy-writes @ravengirl94 @donnaintx @rubynationwins @someday-once @winchesterprincessbride @manawhaat @anotherwinchesterfangirl @acreativelydifferentlove @luci-in-trenchcoats @whispersandwhiskerburn @lipstickandwhiskey

#Tiff's WTF Challenge #spn writing challenge #spn fanfiction #writing prompts #spn writing prompts

[dweebobeebo-blog]

Northern Down Pour - Dallon Weekes

Pairing; Dallon x Reader

Warnings: Drinking. talk of anxiety

Summary; Y/n and Dallon met through Sarah and Brendon. knowing Her mood changes drastically at night Dallon gets her a nice dinner and wine, only to end up picking on each other and making fools of themselves 

It's four pm, here I am just lounging with dallon the sweetest smartest goofiest guy I know, we've been friends for years, my secret crush for another several years, we met through some friends, Brendon and Sarah when we met I had no idea who I was going to see so to say the least I was pissed but not for long when my eyes met dallons. His beautiful eyes and smile always captivate me.

"What do you want to do?" He asks, snapping me from my thoughts

"I don't know" I mumble, not having much to do, and not knowing he was going to be here I didn't plan for anything today but to lay in bed and be a hermit crab.

I've never been one to be outgoing or do much during the day, I'm way too shy so that explains why I was mad at B and sarah when they drug me to meet dallon saying I needed to be out of the house I'm to glum. But really it's mainly just the anxiety.’

Sighing he stands up, "well let's order some food something nice I haven't had a nice supper since before tour. Movies and then later if you want we can do something?"

"Dallon you don't need to do that" I frown "you don't have to spend the day here"

"Nosense y/n!" His voice echoing through my apartment, "you're my best friend I haven't seen you in months!"

Almost thirty minutes later, the food has arrived dallon tells me to grab the utensils and paper towels and two wine glasses, after doing so I run to the bathroom having almost peed myself for waiting to long to go. I wash my hands and go back I hear a loud pop jumping

"Jesus Christ" I mutter following by a chuckle, finally going into view dallons pouring wine into the glasses "I didn't know you actually got wine I thought you were being dorky and wanted soda/pop in them"

"You know me to well but I thought maybe you could use a nice drink relax a little bit" he smiles "are you okay with that?" Only nodding because I could use a drink.

×time skip×

Hours later nine pm, the wine having only had two glasses poured (for both of us), not wanting to drink it all in one night. Dallon and I are laughing our asses off at a cheesy chick flick

Once it was over, we ended up just talking and picking on each other, dallon nudging me every so often and yelling wake up even though I was wide awake

"I'm awake fucker" I yell throwing a pillow at him "you wake up bitch"

"Hey!" He shouts standing up putting his hands on his hips sassily "I'm not a bitch"

I start laughing caushing him to laugh, were to involved in our own little world if crazy laughing when the door bell rings we both scream

"dallon!" I scream eyes going wide

"WHO THE FUCK IS THAT WERE BOTH HERE" He shouts grabbing a pillow

"What the fuck is a pillow going to do?" I smart off we both walk to the door opening we see a laughing Brendon and Sarah

"Oh hi" we both mutter with an embarrassed face

"Hi" Sarah laughs, we move aside and let them in dallon throwing the pillow at me making me fall

"That w-wasn't supposed to happen. Y/n" he says while laughing making me laugh even more Brendon and Sarah looking at us like we're on drugs dallon helps me up while doing so I smack his head

"Are you two drunk?" Bren asks, Sarah picks up the bottle of wine seeing as it's still full "no?"

Dallon and I fight each other so neither of us get to the couch first Sarah probably recording it all while Brendon is laughing his ass off at us, finally getting to the couch I jump on it

"HAH IN YOUR FACE WEEKES" I shout turning around and shaking my butt getting hit with a pillow sitting down and pouting I see dallon sit next to me

"Aweee poor little baby got her fweels hurt" he mocks my face going to tickle me instantly squealing and laughing

Once dallon stops his attack on me, we decided on a dance Battle on just dance, me against dallon and who ever wins the next person has to play against them while Sarah and I get the game set up dallon and Brendon are talking in the kitchen

"So what's with you and dallon tonight?" Sarah asks nudging me with a wide grin

"What are you talking about Sarah?" I laughs "he's been here since this morning I had no idea he was coming over you know me during the day in just a big glum bum"

"So he got you a fancy dinner and wine ?" She questions "he's so head over heels for you y/n" I just give her a weird look

"What?"

"Okay I wasn't supposed to tell you, but Brendon said on tour he never shut up about you, and how much good times you've had together and how you're mood changes drastically when it's night" she rambles "why else would he buy you you're favorite food and wine !"

"Sarah stop talking" I laugh "there's no way" they come back in just as we finish setting everything up Brendon grinning like a mad man, dallon slapping his head "who's first?"

"Me and Sarah duh" Brendon smiles "let's go baby" he grabs a remote waiting acting like he's stretching making all of us laugh, dallon and I sit on the couch together watching them. Testing the waters a bit I scoot closer and lay my head on his shoulder, to my surprise he wraps his arms around me making me smile

Brendon wins, meaning me or dallon go up against him, they turn to look at us and smile really big and coo awe

"I'll go against him" dallon chuckles, I nod and move so he can get up Sarah replaces his spot next to me allowing me to lay my head on her

"Not interested in you my ass" she mutters causing me to giggle and playfully slap her leg

"Shush" I smile we watch the guys dance laughing at the goofy moves they add to them sarah recording it live on Instagram, to our surprise dallon beats Brendon

"C'mon y/n let's see what you got!" He laughs doing something stupid

"Cocky much" I say, grabbing the remote I choose a song I'm really good at knowing Dallon might not win

×time skip×

After rounds of dance offs one on one and in teams, of course Sarah and Brendon against Dallon and I, Sarah and I got tired while B and Dall continued to play games, Sarah fell asleep on the couch so I decided I would go to the room

"I'm heading to bed guys" I smile kissing both there cheeks "it was nice to see you and Sarah Brendon"

"You too y/n" he side hugs me Dallon kisses my head

"Hope you know I'm crashing here tonight after drinking wine and some of your beer" he chuckles

"I figured goodnight guys" I giggle and go to my room, changing into a baggy tshirt I lay down and play on my phone before dozing off

About ten minutes later dallon comes in, feeling the bed dip on the other side and the covers being lifted giving me a cool blast of air on my bare bottom and legs making me shiver

"Sorry princess" dallon mutters, princess? He's never called me princess

"S'okay" I mumble sleepily "just got cold B and Sarah leave?" I giggle

"Yeah so she could drive cause he had sent beer too" he chuckles pulling me to him feeling he's only in boxer's feeling his body heat I sigh "what's wrong?"

"You're warm and I'm cold" I mutter, turning to face him "Dall..?

"Hmm?"

"What's going on?" I look up at him, the open curtains and the light from the moon casting in I can barely see his face "you called me princess, you bought me a nice dinner you're cuddling me you kissed my head..."

"I won't cuddle you If you don't want me too " he sighs

"No I want you too Dall it's just all the sudden" I mutter

"I like you, scratch that I love you" he says taking me by surprise" I have since we first met yet I was so mad B drug me to do that but I'm glad he did, god I missed you so much over tour and I never shut up about you and today you were glum I didn't like it I never do"

He keeps talking so I kiss him to shut up giggling while doing do so

"I love you too Dall" I smile "now cuddle me I'm cold" chuckling he pulls me back to him kissing my head

"I love to see the way your mood changes at night you're so smiley and giggly" he says

"Thanks to you.. I'm sure if you were around 24/7 I wouldn't happy all the time"

"Then I'm never leaving" he says, I close my eyes instantly falling into another doze before falling asleep I hear him say "hey moon please forget to fall down".

#dallon weekes #dallon james weekes #brendon urie #brendon boyd urie #spencer smith #ryan ross #dan pawlovich #kenneth harris #jon walker #panic! at the disco #twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog:: Voyages Ch 1

Buckle up, guys and gals and nonbinary pals, because I’m finally following up Origins with a sequel. If you haven’t read Origins, I really really recommend that you do -- this first chapter is kind of a prologue with some refresher details, setting us up for the bulk of this story, but there is defs the occasional reference that kind of requires an understanding of the first fic to fully get it. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I hope you’ll stick with it, and thank you so much for reading! (This can also be read on AO3 but I guess Tumblr hides posts if you put links in them so??)

Title: Voyages

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary:  After a rocky start and some ups and downs, Junkrat and Roadhog are officially partners, even if things haven’t progressed quite as far as Junkrat would like. With his treasure at the heart of their grandiose plans, they take their adventures overseas and leave their mark on the world, for better or worse. (Mostly for worse. They’re criminals.) Sequel to “Origins.”

---

Junkrat had been the one to suggest that they go international. After the Hyde Global incident, he was more than happy to bid Australia adieu and travel overseas. His flitting notion of going legit had evaporated entirely at the suit’s betrayal, and he wanted to go back to what he did best: good, honest, straightforward crime.

“Gotta say, I’m a bit disappointed that we didn’t end up scrapping any bots after all,” Junkrat said that night, once they’d fled the city and set up camp in an abandoned warehouse further down the coast. “Drones ain’t the same.” He toyed with his RIP-tire, running his finger around its rim. After learning of Junkrat’s treasure, Roadhog had done his best to dissuade him from storing it inside his tire once more, but he had been unable to provide him with a more secure storage space that Junkrat approved of. Back in the tire it went. “Listen, ‘Hog, I’ve been thinkin’...” He dropped his hand and shifted to sit on the tire instead.

Roadhog snorted and put the cap back on his canteen. “There’s a surprise.”

Junkrat kicked at him, his boot striking empty air. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he repeated, raising his voice in exaggeration, “that maybe it’s time to test out my little treasure I got here.” He patted the tire and raised his brows at Roadhog, as if to say how ‘bout it?

“To unleash the god program,” Roadhog clarified.

“That’s the ticket!” Junkrat grinned at him. “Imagine...” He gazed dreamily up at the ceiling of the warehouse. “Takin’ over the omnics. I could make them walk right into my traps, blow themselves up! How lovely.” He sighed, a noise of utter contentment.

Roadhog chuckled. “I’m in. Where?”

Junkrat craned his neck to look at him. “Where what?”

“Anubis took over Cairo. Probably would have spread through all of Egypt if it weren't for Helix.”

“So, where do I want to be god?” He considered it. “Somewhere with lots of bots, yeah? Maybe not here, you and yer mates thinned us out with the whole omnium explosion thing. 'Course, still too many of the bastards for my liking, but at least it's not like Numbani. Place’s crawlin’ with the tinheads.” He paused. “Say, that wouldn't be a bad spot! Sure, it'd be ambitious, but y’know me, I like to dream big.”

“No job too big…”

“...No score too small!” It had become their mantra as of late, and Junkrat jumped at the opportunity to finish Roadhog's sentence every time. He relished the verbal affirmation of their partnership. “But hey, why stop there? We could hit up Tokyo, London--” He interrupted his current train of thought with a gasp. “Korea! Can you imagine takin’ down that huge fucker in their ocean?”

“We'd be heroes.”

They both burst into raucous laughter at the thought of anyone considering them heroes. Junkrat wiped a tear from his eye. “But seriously, mate. We oughta go international. I'm sick of this place. I wanna travel!”

So they traveled. Matters were complicated by the fact that they couldn't go on holiday like normal people. It wasn't like two highly notorious criminals could just saunter onto a plane, particularly two who looked as distinctive as they did.

They resorted to convoluted schemes in an attempt to evade the law, aided and abetted by their ethically dubious associates. With a raid of a scuba diving facility near Sydney and Rosa’s assistance, they were able to engineer a rebreather for Junkrat and an apparatus for Roadhog’s gas mask that served as a carbon dioxide scrubber. Having a computer scientist on their side proved invaluable, as she helped with the electronic bits of the rebreather.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Ava asked, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“You’ve done crazier things,” Junkrat pointed out. He climbed into the motorcycle’s sidecar, feet propped up and head lolling back. “Sliced open me head in yer kitchen--”

“--blew up the omnium--” Roadhog added.

“--busted us outta prison. What’re ya worried for?”

Ava dropped her hand and laughed. “Got me there! Yeah, you’ll be fine.” She pulled Junkrat out of the sidecar so she could slap the two of them on the back good-naturedly.

Rosa kissed them both on the cheek. “Be safe, all right?”

Junkrat grinned. “Can’t promise nothin’!”

“We’ll try,” Roadhog assured her. Junkrat snorted. Empty words. Roadhog might have been more sensible than he was (not that it took much), but they were both reckless by nature, and it was rare for Roadhog to object to any of their wilder ventures.

“I suppose that’s as good as I’m going to get,” Rosa said with a laugh.

There was a momentary lull as everyone absorbed the fact that they didn’t know when they would next see each other, or if they ever would again. Although it was empty except for the massive crate containing their motorcycle, the cargo container they were all standing in felt claustrophobic under the weight of saying goodbye.

Rosa broke the silence. “Oh, but before you go, I have a little going away present for you both...”

Junkrat’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” he said, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice. People never gave him presents. Junkers weren’t keen on handouts, and he had never had someone in his life who liked him enough to give him a gift without expecting something in return.

Rosa handed each of them two soft, knitted bundles. “What’s this?” Junkrat asked, confused. He unfolded it and shook it out to find that it was a jumper made out of thick, black wool, with his trademark bright yellow, x’d out smiley face stitched on the front. A giggle bubbled out of him, and he bounced as he hugged it to his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore a shirt, a proper shirt -- there was an army green vest that he had worn over his bare chest as a kid, but he didn’t know if that counted.

“I figured you both might need something warm on your travels -- I hear other countries get a lot colder than Oz in November.” Rosa’s eyes twinkled. “And I knew you would probably have a hard time finding ones that fit.”

Junkrat laughed, elbowing Roadhog. “Yeah, can’t be too easy finding duds in yer size, eh, big guy?” He remembered the way Roadhog’s prison undershirt had constantly ridden up his belly, exposing a slice of his tattoo. There was something to be said for this whole “clothes” thing. Somehow, seeing the way the fabric clung to Roadhog, muscles straining against the too-tight sleeves, felt way more indecent than when he was shirtless.

Roadhog ignored his comment; there was no point in saying anything to the contrary. “Thanks, Rosa,” he said, turning the jumper around so that Junkrat could see it. It was the polar opposite of his, light cream instead of pitch black, a giant pink pig’s head instead of a demented smiley face. It should have been all wrong, given that Roadhog was without a doubt an aggressive, spiked up killer -- or, at the very least, ironic in nature. But it wasn’t. The tooth-rottingly sweet jumper just suited him.

“Yeah!” Junkrat enthused. “Thanks, mate.” He spread out the jumper on a nearby package so that he could admire it. He was itching to pull it on right now, just for the novelty of it, but the humid heat of the cargo container made him reconsider.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Junkrat wasn’t used to people being affectionate with him, asides from Roadhog, and even that was still a relatively recent turn of events. It wasn’t for lack of trying -- he’d certainly tried to be chummy with the other Junkers before he’d been forced to go on the lam, but there was something about him that others tended to find off-putting.

So it was nice to have someone else instigate a friendly hug: Rosa’s soft and warm, just like her, Ava’s a tight, one-armed squeeze.

“Thanks heaps for all the help, mate,” he said gratefully as Ava pulled away.

“No worries, you'll just owe me one.” Ava winked at him. “Take it easy, alright? Don't forget about the rest of us down under! And be safe. You lose another limb or get shot, and Dr. Bones ain't around to patch ya up. And I don't really think Dr. Boom is up to the task.”

Junkrat snickered. “Ahh, probably not,” he admitted. He was good at a lot of things, most of which had to do with destroying property or hurting people: healing was not one of these things.

He let Roadhog say his goodbyes in private -- Ava and Rosa were his friends first and foremost, after all -- and crawled back into the sidecar, sloppily folding the jumper and using it as a pillow. If he peeked over the top of the crate, he could see Roadhog’s forehead pressed against Ava’s. Sexual incompatibility aside, there was a certain kind of bond formed between two people who had committed an act of terrorism together. Junkrat had gotten into some serious trouble with Roadhog before, but they had yet to do anything that quite matched the scale of blowing up an omnium.

He hoped to change that. He reached over his shoulder and fondly patted his tire.

There was just enough room for Roadhog to squeeze into the crate before it was sealed.

“Good thing yer not claustrophobic, eh?”

“Speak for yourself,” Roadhog grunted. He handed Junkrat his rebreather.

Outside the crate, they could hear the sounds of Ava and Rosa filling the rest of the cargo container with junk to be mailed. The more large packages to cover up the motorcycle crate, the lower the chances of anyone bothering to pop theirs open for a visual inspection.

The general gist of their plan amounted to the two of them crossing the ocean as stowaways on a cargo ship. Ava and Rosa were their enablers, posing as women ostensibly shipping their belongings overseas for a fresh start. Between bribes, the cost of engineering the rebreathers, and shipping and handling fees, it was turning out to be their most expensive heist yet. Neither of them particularly cared; they needed to burn through their considerable earnings regardless. Australian dollars would be virtually useless to them the minute they set foot in Japan, given that they had no intention of waltzing into a bank -- at least, not with the express purpose of civilly exchanging currency.

The most challenging hurdle would be overcoming the carbon dioxide detectors used to expose stowaways. With any luck, the rebreathers would take care of that, absorbing and recycling the carbon dioxide in every exhale.

It was a long, tense stretch of time as they waited for some signal that they’d escaped undetected. It was only made worse by the fact that they couldn’t speak.

Junkrat wasn’t claustrophobic so much as he was restless. The crate they were in was huge, large enough to accommodate both their bike and sidecar, but with two overgrown men in it, it got cramped very quickly. He could only sit still for so long before he got fidgety.

He didn’t realise he was acting twitchy until Roadhog pinned his hands to his lap. He startled, head jerking up to look at Roadhog. It didn't do him much good, though -- he couldn't read whatever expression Roadhog was giving him beneath his gas mask, and they were currently incapable of using words to communicate.

He sat there, silently staring down at his lap and Roadhog's hand covering the both of his. He had nice hands, Junkrat decided. Strong and sturdy like the rest of him. Nail polish needed a touch-up, though. Still, not as bad as Junkrat's. He had an unfortunate habit of picking at his nails when there was nothing else to keep his hands busy. It was a reflex from back before he'd lost his arm. He might not have had nails on his mechanical hand to properly chip away at the polish, but he could still cause it to flake off with enough persistence.

Maybe it was a good thing Roadhog was restraining his hands, then. A sudden, unbidden image popped in his head of Roadhog’s hands restraining him in other ways. He quickly shook off the thought, as pleasant a vision as it was, by flexing his fingers.

Roadhog squeezed warningly, a silent reprimand to stop moving, there's already not enough space in here. A burst of laughter bubbled up in Junkrat's chest. Holding it in was quite possibly the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life, with the possible exception of learning how to build a peg leg that supported his body and retraining himself to walk.

He really needed to get out of this box.

They both lurched on the spot as the crate pitched forward. Junkrat didn't know what was happening: if they were just being processed, if they were being loaded onto the ship, if someone had found them out and they were being forcibly ejected from the premises. He wormed his hand out from underneath Roadhog's so that he could lace their fingers together. He just hoped that the bribe would be enough to get them through the initial inspection process, and that the rebreather would carry them home.

They'd found the most vulnerable worker to exploit, with Ava as their proxy, and he seemed grateful enough to hold up his end of the bargain. Ten years from now, some child would be going to university courtesy of the country's biggest criminals. It was kind of touching to think about, Junkrat later said, the two of them acting as sponsors to the unwitting less fortunate, even if it was done solely to further their nefarious plans.

After what felt like an eternity, they heard the unmistakable sounds of the ship's engines roaring to life, followed by the gentle rocking of the waves as they pulled away from the port. Junkrat let go of Roadhog's hand and sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the lid of the crate.

Roadhog detached his rebreathing apparatus for the express purpose of laughing at him, or so Junkrat was convinced. He rubbed his head ruefully and struggled to remove his own rebreather while Roadhog shouldered open the lid of the crate.

Junkrat unfolded his body and climbed out of their hiding space onto the metal shipping container that was wedged behind their box. “Next time, I say we just steal the fuckin' boat,” was the first thing Junkrat said after emerging. He cracked every joint in his neck with a satisfying series of pops and stretched out his back. His head was sore -- that was going to leave a bump -- but the relief he felt at pulling off the first leg of their venture surpassed any physical discomfort.  

“Good a plan as any.”

“This whole ‘bein’ careful’ thing is a roight pain in the arse, I tell ya,” Junkrat continued. They were no strangers to convoluted plans, but they weren't used to being cautious. It just wasn't their style. They were loud and obnoxious and stuck out like a sore thumb, and if Junkrat was going for an elaborate scheme, it was going to be a bold one. After spending more time in the slammer than either of them would have liked, however, they decided it was time for a change of tack. Actively attempting to evade capture, as opposed to doing whatever they wanted and running when they were inevitably caught in the act, couldn’t hurt. “Tokyo better be worth all this bullshit.”

He glanced around the cargo hold. They were on the far end of the ship, near the loading ramp, surrounded by packages that ranged the gamut of sizes. There was hardly any floor space to navigate. He envisioned crawling around on top of boxes to get from one side of the hold to another.

Entirely out of nowhere, his thoughts from inside the crate popped into his mind. “Yer nails are chipped!” he blurted out and pointed at Roadhog triumphantly, thoroughly pleased that his memory hadn’t failed him for once.

To his credit, Roadhog took the abrupt change of subject in stride. He looked down at his hands and grunted in agreement. “Yeah. So are yours.” He pulled their dwindling supply of nail polish out of his pocket and sat down, Junkrat scrambling to sit next to him.

Junkrat held out his hand expectantly. He hadn't been very good at applying nail polish when he had two arms made out of flesh and bone. Now that one of them was mechanical, he was even worse, thanks to the fact that it was nigh impossible for him to hold the small brush in his right hand. Built out of scrap metal and a prayer, his prosthetic naturally lacked the epidermal ridges that would help secure his grip, so the brush just rolled out from between his metal fingers.

Thankfully, he had Roadhog. Roadhog, who always painted Junkrat’s nails first before painting his own. “A proper gentleman,” Junkrat had once called him before bursting into a fit of giggles, although Roadhog had maintained that it was because he couldn’t paint someone else’s nails while his own were still wet.

It was one of the few times when he was capable of sitting perfectly still, his fingertips poised on Roadhog’s palm. The spell was broken as soon as Roadhog declared the touchup complete, and it was back to fidgeting as he waited for his nails to dry. He’d gotten impatient in the past and started touching things before they had set, and it always led to smudged nails, so he had quickly learned his lesson.

It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it, though. He groaned dramatically, waving his hand in the air, while Roadhog studiously ignored him and concentrated on applying polish to his own nails. The wait was made worse by the fact that he was intensely curious about his surroundings and wanted nothing more than to poke around and see what other people were shipping overseas.

The moment his nails were dry enough for him to handle objects, he bounded to his feet and set off to explore. The cargo hold was filled with countless packages, and it was sensory overload as his eyes darted here and there, trying to figure out what he wanted to pry open first. He climbed over boxes, peeking at shipping labels and attempting guess which of them contained interesting loot.

He drew up short when he saw a large parcel with a logo on the side that identified it as a gourmet gift basket company. It took him a solid five minutes to figure out how to break into the crate, until he found a piece of metal that served as a crowbar. He wrenched it open to discover an enormous, cellophane-wrapped basket stuffed with fancy Australian cheeses, biscuits, macadamia nuts, and--

Junkrat threw his hands up in the air. “Jackpot!” he crowed.

“What did you find?” Roadhog called out.

Junkrat brandished two bottles. “We got wine, mate! And food too,” he added as an afterthought. “But the grog’s the important bit.”

He snatched up a lump of gouda to bring back with the bottles of wine, so that they could pretend to be the snobby fine dining assholes that they so often mocked. Junkrat put on his poshest accent.

“Wine and cheese for the good sir!” He bit into the hunk of cheese and passed it to Roadhog along with one of the bottles of wine. He plopped down beside him, the second bottle in his lap, and unscrewed his index finger to expose one of the screwdrivers that were part of his mechanical arm’s infrastructure.

Junkrat took care of the cork by stabbing it with the small screwdriver. He raised his bottle in Roadhog’s direction. “I propose a toast!” he declared. “To new adventures!”

“To new adventures,” Roadhog echoed. “And old friends.”

Junkrat was touched, but he tried not to let on just how much the sentiment affected him. Still, he couldn’t hold back the smile that stretched across his face. “Cheers, mate!” he said, clinking bottles with Roadhog and taking a hearty swig. He was fairly certain wine wasn’t meant to be chugged, but he’d be damned if he let that stop him.

Unlike hard liquor, which made him rowdier than ever, wine turned Junkrat into a sleepy drunk. A bottle or so later, he yawned and inched closer to Roadhog, seeking out creature comforts.

“S’good shit,” he mumbled. “Only ever got pissed off plonk before, y’know, whenever one of the Junkers got their hands on a wine cask or two.” He didn’t know that the good stuff tasted so much better. Wine would likely never be his drink of choice, but it wasn’t all that bad.

“Good old chateau cardboard,” Roadhog rumbled.

Even in his groggy state, Junkrat found the term inexplicably hilarious. He laughed uproariously and pressed an affectionate kiss to Roadhog’s arm.

For once, he didn’t have much to say; he just wanted to be close to his partner and enjoy a moment of silent, drunken bliss. They didn’t get quiet moments together very often. Roadhog was absorbed in sewing a new patch onto his harness, and Junkrat pulled out his detonator to give his own hands something to do. He rested against Roadhog’s leg, his entire body heavy and lethargic and warm as the waves of drowsiness washed over him.

Roadhog placed a hand on his head and ruffled his hair, and Junkrat barely suppressed a purr of contentment. It was a small gesture, but one that he loved. It was affectionate in a way that he had never experienced before Roadhog came into his life. It spoke of familiarity. It made him feel like he was home. He leaned into Roadhog’s touch and fiddled with his detonator, wrapping tape around it. It was cozy in the cargo hold like this, tucked up against Roadhog’s side, and he gradually drifted off to sleep, detonator falling to the wayside.

#roadrat #junkrat #roadhog #origins #voyages #my fanfiction