Thank You For Writing Mc, Idk Why I Simp For Her

baji is pretty but gross IK that man has a million icks

i’m finna get disrespectful.

tw: milo getting in baji’s ass.

baji keisuke is one dirty ass person. first of all, i have a feeling he sniffs his boxers to rewear them.. even after a fucking fight.

second, you know when guys get mad to the point they’re swinging at the air? him. ik he’s slipped and busted his ass in the shower and tried to grab onto the water, something, cheeks clenched with a growl leaving his lips bruh

third, he picks at his toenails. sorry not sorry. he’ll sit on the edge of the bed, scrolling through whatever while his other hand is picking at his toes.

finally, his pillow smells. he doesn’t wash his pillowcase and he drools all fucking night long so now he’s sleeping on a germ infested pillow that smells like morning breath.

i love baji though that’s my bae fr

Shitted myself while reading this, that fuckinf twist

#FFFAFA | GHOST.

genre | angst, fluff, platonic relationship au, grumpy dad x eager child dynamic

word count | 2754

warning | mention of death, mention of pain, mention of human trafficking, mention of kidnapping / i know absolutely nothing about this game and this man. ​

note | i just thought his appearance and the little personality i can tell from tiktok fit the description of this scenario. also i like this trope. i apologize in advance but this thought just had to go somewhere other than my head.

“Where’s the kid.”

A stoic voice matched with an even more intimidating stance—the medic did not need to turn around to know it was Simon Riley (or Ghost, as he liked to be called) talking behind him. He calmly turned around to face the sudden speaker, and his brows raised. Despite barely healing from severe unattended injuries and dehydration, Ghost remained tall and demanding; nobody should expect anything less from him.

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Ugh can’t wait for most of these guys to show up on pgr global, anyways look at BEAUTY (4/5)

Shut up

Ft. Childe & Scaramouche

Cw: mm yes kissing, probs ooc, the reader can be seen as a harbinger, childe and scara real name. Short on scara part

Reader pronoun: Not mentioned

Summary: Your partner have been talking about a certain topic for what seems like hours, and you couldn't get yourself to finish your work. So what will you do to shut them up?

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–

Ajax aka Childe

How long has it been? Since this certain ginger haired guy or you could say your own boyfriend rambles about how his days in liyue went, you would love to hear him rambles about his liyue days but.... the problem is you couldn't get yourself to finish your work. Especially your report card.

And the way he keeps repeating the name Zhongli for some reason. "And then i met this guy named zhongli-" "he never brings his wallet nor checks the price tags when i was buying him stuff!" "And then Turns out he's the rex lapis himself?!".

You kinda wanna laugh at his statement until you looked at your report card with a written Zhongli in the end of a sentence, it seems that you accidentally written his name eh?

sighing up, you tried to cover the mistake you did only for the ink to end up smudged.

From afar, you could see your boyfriend figure who is still rambling about how his days went in liyue while leaning his back on the wooden door frame. You were thinking about a way to get this ginger headed boy to shut up so you could do your work peacefully, until a certain idea flew over your head.

"Hey ajax" you called him, no response. "Hey!" This time a bit louder, still no response. "CHILDE HELLO??" you finally yelled. And he snapped out of his thought "AH.. uhm sorry, what is it?" He turned his gaze at you, he could see that your expression were somehow pissed.

"could you come here for a second? I need your help with something" you said organizing the stack of paperwork.

"What do you need my help with hm?" He smirked while walking toward your working desk.

"This" you stated showing him some paper with a rather small writing, "and bend down you can't see it"

"Whose papers is this? The handwriting is rather small reminds me of— Oomph!" Just before he could finish his own sentence you pulled his shirt collar for a rather harsh and deep kiss. Too bad, It lasted only for a few moment before you pulled away gasping for air.

"And that will shut you up." Returning your gaze to the report card and paperwork again. leaving your boyfriend standing there looking at you. dumbfounded.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–

Kunikuzushi aka Scaramouche

Scaramouche or kunikuzushi himself is rather hard to fluster, but.. today is a bit different he seems rather pissed. Just without asking you could already know what he's up to.

From your desk you could already see his sour expression, how he's grumbling about how his subordinate was being annoying or uncooperative, And then to how his days went.

You, yourself was stuck in an endless paperwork and a report card to fill.

You would've want to shut him up but... its scaramouche, you know how it'll end up right? So you tries to think if there's any way to shut this gremlin mouth up.

"And then this one agent tries to issue his own order, such a nuisance"...."and tartaglia, that ginger. He keeps annoying me about my big hat!" and so on and so on.

Giving up on your paperwork, you stand up and walked toward the sofa your boyfriend was sitting in.

"What?" He said, "nothing.. im just, tired. Need a rest right now" before sitting down on the sofa.

"Wanna know an efficient way to shut someone up?"..."what?" He turned his gaze at you

"You do this" you abruptly grabbed (softly) him by the chin and pulled him for a kiss. Too bad due to your tired body and mind you can only give him a soft tender kiss. It lasted for a few second before you pull your face away from him.

"Now if you'll excuse me, im going to rest" plopping yourself comfortably on your boyfriend lap. "Stay... here.. okay?" Before drifting into an slumber.

You failed to notice his flustered face and the little smile on his face. Guess his day got better then?

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–

Finally finished, sorry if its short lmao. Anw wish me luck, gonna have my math exam soon<3

I Wanna Hold Your Hand: HanKisa

Summary: Shuji Hanma was stumped. It had been nearly a week since he had started his grand plan of Getting Tetta Kisaki to Hold My Hand. However, he’d struck out several times already.

Tags/Info: Hand holding, Fluff, Smoking, Swearing, Food

WC: 893

READ ON AO3

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don't you realize our bodies could fall apart any second?

141 x male!reader

⚠︎ REPOST FROM PREVIOUS BLOG ⚠︎

warnings: gore, cod typical violence, foul language, kinda angst-y, could be read as either romantic or platonic, actually scratch that very angsty, death, alot of contemplating death, honestly mostly price centered lolz, its also like basically the convoy chase scene so yeah

notes: ⚠︎ this was a request from my previous account!! so uh 🪷 if u see this then here :3 ⚠︎ tsym for requesting !! this was crazy fun to write and i was really excited to work on it!! i had to fudge around some details for it to make a little more sense logistically speaking -- also sorry for taking a long ass while to get it done, but i hope you like regardless :)

(and yeah 🪷 is fine lol)

The horizon of the young night, painted in soft, deep blues, and splattered with stars like the flick of a paint brush, almost completely takes you out of your head. You don't often get the chance to enjoy the beauty around you, and even as you do in this moment, there's shouting and gunfire ringing in the background. Even the heavy pitter patter of rain can't deafen. It was ironic in a way--  you could probably find a cliche metaphor in there somewhere.

The huff of the helicopters rapid blades muffle what you can hear, even with your headset securely cuffed around your ears. The relentless wind beats against your skin, grabbing and pulling at your hair ferociously.

Even after all this time, these missions never fail to get your nerves up.

You feel your heart pound against your chest as Captain Price, in the seat besides the pilot, continues to bark out orders and directions. Pursing your lips, you bring your guns scope back to your eye, grip so tight you might've thought you've left your fingerprints indented into the plastic. You're squatted down on the helicopters floor, leaned against the wall as you use it for cover. Your bullets fly from the open door, aimed for the hostile vehicles set on evading your team.

Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or rather Gaz, mirrors your position on the adjacent side of the door-- Soap and Ghost no doubt holding similar positions behind you.

It's almost looking like this whole thing might go your way.

"Gaz-- [L/N]!" Price calls out over coms. "Anti-Air teams locking onto us-- your side!"

Your aim almost instinctively finds them-- large red lasers all seeming to be pointing directly at you. You squeeze your finger against the trigger, a cold sweat washing over you as you realize your bullets are doing nothing to their body armor. You felt the rhythmic jolt of your gun in your arms-- realizing you were swiftly running out of time, you called by to price, finger never leaving the trigger. "Captain-- They're wearing armor, we can't---!"

"INCOMING!" The frantic shout from Gaz cuts you off, eyes widening as you attempt to shield yourself from the missile blazing towards you. 

Your breath hitches as the heli begins to shake and spin-- you move from the door, pressing your back against the wall, madly grabbing onto whatever you can.

The pilots voice sounds in your ear, her voice strong, yet clearly frenzied. "We're going down, Y'all-- I need to execute an emergency lan-" Another large boom cuts her off, sending the heli plummeting to the ground, violent jerks being an attempt from the pilot to keep you from being obliterated the moment you'd make impact with the ground.

You try to maneuver to a more secure position as the heli grows unstable, but feel as the ground slips from under you, your back crashing again the floor with a heavy thump, head bouncing roughly against it.

Smoke fills the air, and your lungs, as alarms blare from the helis systems. There's a frantic cacophony of shouts as you fumble for anything to hold onto, nails screeching against metal as you claw to keep yourself alive. You feel your body lose to gravity as you begin to slip out, your gun now long gone.

your body dangles outside the heli, as chaos ensues. Your breath is rapid as you're just almost able to lift yourself back into 'safety.' but the rain has made everything slick and unstable. Your grip, your clothes, the metal.

Another hit to the tail end sends the helicopter to the point of no return. Plummeting downwards at seemingly impossible speeds-- in just a few seconds the chopper dove nose first into the ground, the screeching of metal aching on before coming to a silent hault.

The wreckage is still-- silent for a moment.

A sore groan stumbles from Prices throat as he forces his eyes open, a dull pain spreading through his body. On instinct, his hand goes to reach for the pilot, still sitting besides him. He stops as his eyes reach her-- her eyes wide open, empty, a strange glassy eyed stare bore into him. Broken glass litters her deep completion, the hair that had escaped her once neat bun lay stuck to her forehead as sweat and blood coats her flesh.

His chest tightness as he looks past her, into the cabin. After a moment of deadly silence, as if he were scared to ask, he finds his voice. "Are you-" a cough cuts him off, he almost instinctively turns away as he continues to hack through his sentence. "Are you alright!?"

He's partially relieved when a slew of groans answers him. Turning back, ignoring the stare of the pilot, he tries for an exit from the windshield, having been shattered upon impact. As he climbs from the cockpit, he hopes his voice is still loud enough for his team to hear. "Gaz?"

His head snaps as a figure emerges from the wreckage, pushing heavy scraps of metal from its way, and stumbling out from what remained of cabins open door. "'m alright..." He groans out in a hushed whisper, blood coating his forehead. It seems Gaz is still trying to process what's happened.

"Soap?"

As if on cue, Soap follows in Gaz's steps, footing unstable as he attempts to climb out. A string of barely legible curses are spat from his mouth before finally answering with an "I'm fine." The mostly agitated sort of growl sounded like it'd hurt his throat.

Soap extends a hand into the wreckage, a skeleton clad glove reaching for it, gripping it with a grunt as Soap pulls him up.

"Ghost, you alright mate?"

"Not dead yet." Is all he responds, stumbling from the rubble. 

"[L/N]?"

Again, everything's still.

Rain pounds against his head, soaking his hair. He must've lost his hat somewhere in the wreckage.

"[L/N]!" He calls again, straining to listen for your reply. He hisses out a curse as he moves to the demolished, Ghosts voice stopping him mere seconds later.

"Price." He says it like a whisper, not even turning to look at his Captain. Its like he's frozen in panic.

Price turns, his gaze following ghosts a few feet from the crash. barely visible through the rain is a still body.

Your body.

Price doesn't register the fact that he's moving, his feet almost slipping against the mud, till he practically falls to his knees, the momentum of his movement pushing him into your body when he comes in close. His hands hover over your form, fearful his touch might shatter you.

You're on your side, limp as Price continues to mindlessly call your name, as if pleading with you to just hop up, pretending like the crash was just a scrape to your knee. "No, no, nonono- [Y/N]-!"

He rolls you onto your back eyes shooting to a large shard-like piece of metal stabbed into your side. Smaller pieces of shrapnel have torn into your clothes and buried themselves under your skin. His hope begins to falter just before you force out a breath, face twitching on discomfort as you shakily come to. You force your eyes open, meeting the fear-stricken frown of your captain.

Price lets out a breath of relief, putting on a smile to mask his panic. It doesn't work well.

You know something's wrong.

Scoffing at his almost fatherly attempt at comfort, you crack a smile, speaking through a sickly, dry throat. "Now be for real with me, old man; just how bad is it?" He's looking at you like you're a dog about to be put down.

He doesn't answer you.

Heavy boots bound towards you, snapping Price from his poorly concealed panic. His head snapps towards the rest of the team-- but he doesn't have to say a word. They're already doing what they have to.

You hear a certain sort of zip of fabric before you feel Ghosts unmistakeable warm hands pressed against you. You're covered in rain, dirt, and your own blood.

Price is still knelt by your head, trying to keep your attention on him-- trying to keep you talking, to keep you conscious. So it's that bad, huh?

"Kid, can you feel anything?"

You ponder the question, a strange happenstance that you don't know quite how to answer that question. "I feel..." You notice the gush of warmth flow out of your body, and a pulsing dullness. Nothing else. As you breath in to answer, you feel more blood gush from you. "Warm. It's kinda gross, actually." You went to laugh, but your chuckle is caught in your throat. You feel a strange sort of painful stabbing sensation in your legs-- like pins and needles amped up to a hundred. You don't say anything, just silently wince.

Price wordless stands, shouting into his walkie-talkie, as you look to Ghost. You don't dare look at the damage you've been dealt, just barely catching a glimpse of his scarf pressed against your skin, your red staining the once tan fabric.

You snap your eyes up, attempting to focus on the breath you're swiftly loosing. Your breathing grows shallow, despite your efforts to swallow back more air-- it's as if your lungs are simply refusing to work. Your chest aches as you fight for deeper breaths, as if your a fish fighting to survive above the water-- breathing a painful chore.

You try to move, to put a hand around your throat to sooth yourself, but your limbs all feel numb-- heavy, yet jelly-like all the same. It's as if some invisible force is holding you down.

your hearing begins to distort-- almost sounding like your head was plunged underwater, all voices and sounds fading beyond much of your understanding. You recognize Prices voice, shouting into his coms. His words echo three or four times, yet to you it's devoid of any substance or meaning.

Your vision blurs-- maybe it's the rain getting in your eyes, or maybe you're really just dying. You scowl at the cliche you're living through. At the very least, you now know all those books and movies held some truth to them.

he pain worsens as you try to speak to Ghost. "I swear to God, L.T, if I start rambling about seeing a bright light, just shoot me." Ghost doesn't find your attempt at humor very funny.

You're vision begins to go black, fading from the sides until only a fuzzy circle of your vision was left. For a moment you're struggling to figure out whether or not your eyes are closed.

Price continues to shout about medical evac, Gaz is at Ghosts sides, applying pressure to the multiple puncture wounds littering your abdomen as they try to work out a plan to move you to evac without potentially further harming you. Soap is at your side, his gloved hand protectively grabbing onto yours. You think he's talking to you, and you think you're answering, maybe offering him a joke or two to comfort his panic, but you can't be sure. This goes on for awhile, like you were stuck living the same minuet over and over again.

A ringing slowly floods your ears, and all at once your pain is eased. In the midst of such chaos around you, you find a quiet. A stillness. A sort of comforting peace washing over you.

The warmth of your blood is strangely curing. It reminds you of various memories from deep within your childhood-- lost instances of a tender embrace, being lulled to sleep in the arms of a loved one, dark and silent.

Death was an inevitable thought in your line of work. Honestly, the thought was probably the most consistent thing you had in your life. It was always pretty scary-- you didn't know when you'd die, how, what would come after-- frankly it scared you. But now, in the ease, there was a mysterious certainty in the cradle of death, you found yourself accepting the idea as if it were a gift you'd been waiting for.

"[Y/N]?" You've stopped answering Soap. Your instinct is to fight heft in your eyelids, but you're just so tired. As you begin to surrender to the peace, Soaps thick accent cuts through it. "No-- stay with me, [Y/N]!" He shifts his position, laying your head on his lap as his hands rest on your face, shaking your head to keep you awake.

His shout of protest gets Prices attention. Price approaches yet again and takes Soaps former place. He places a hand on your chest and shoulder, shaking you lightly. As he begins to speak, you roll your head towards him, barely making him out through the fuzz. "C'mon, stay with me, son." He sees that sort glassy glint in your eyes. "Don't close your eyes-- close your eyes and you're a goner. Jesus fuck--! Don't you fucking die on me-- that's an order!" His voice shakes despite himself.

You aren't afraid of death. You always thought you'd die slow and painful, but this was....Nice. There's no pain, no fear, nothing but numb. You struggle for a reason to not simply give into yourself-- maybe this was just your time. You're tired-- you're young, but so fucking tired. Why not let go? What are you holding on for?

Your head rolls to the other side. Ghost and Gaz's hands are coated in your blood, their clothes possibly forever stained with the memory of your life fleeting from under their palms. You can feel the warmth of Soaps lap from under your head, one hand lightly slapping your face, and the other combing back your hair with tender care. Weather its to sooth you, himself as a nervous tick, or to just keep your mud soaked hair from your face, it's still appreciated. Price has screamed his throat raw. You never thought you'd see the man falter, but you could feel his once strong hands seem to crumble again you as they gripped almost pathetically at your vest and shirt.

Suddenly you had your answer.

You draw a shallow breath.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Cap."

★_# 羽宮和虎レイアウト 🌟📝 (REQ) ♡

Tian: You fainted. Do you remember anything?

Mo: Just the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Tian: There was no ambulance. I drove you.

Mo: But I heard a siren?

Tian: That was Jian.

Jian: Sorry. I got nervous.

Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.

If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals

First time?

um .