#BECAUSE YOU BLEW IT THOROUGHLY THE FUCK UP

[joffyworld]

OH MY FUCKING GOD ELIZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Cotl reveals the dark side of creativity in me

[haleswallows]

DC x DP Dead Tired 'Fake Relationship' plot bunny

Alright, imagine me presenting you with this like a proud cat bringing you the hair tie I just murdered. (Anyone is welcome to add to this - to treat it like a prompt or to expand on it. Just, like, let me know so I can consume it with an unhinged fervor, thank you!)

Tim (no longer forever 17) finds himself in a bit of a situation. One being that he's really fed up with Dick and Barbara and Alfred and even Bruce being nosy. And why are they being nosy?

Because that's their love language. And also, because for some absurd reason Tim cannot discern, Dick got it in his head that Tim is lonely. Which, of course means everyone has accepted the mission to get Tim hitched.

Is it that Tim and Bernard broke up? Is it that Tim has gone stag to every charity gala for the last year? Is it that Bruce finally pulled his head out of his ass and made things work out with Selina? The world may never know.

What Tim does know is he isn't lonely. He's fine. Truly.

Enter Danny Phantom.

The ghost hero is interesting. Tim side eyes the guy pretty hard when he joins the Justice League. For a dead guy, he's pretty cheery and up-beat. Honestly, with all the quips & puns, he could have been a Robin in a past life.

Surprising absolutely no one, Nightwing and Phantom quickly become butt-buddies, joined at the hip, partners in crime. Tim is not jealous, no matter what Dick says. He has his own team, his own cases, CEO work, etc etc etc and even more etc. Great, Dick has a new friend.

Too bad for Tim, one of his cases overlaps with Phantom's 'jurisdiction'. No one will tell Tim what that means. No worries, Tim will find out. He always does.

Red Robin and Phantom team up. It goes... great. No grievous injuries, the case gets solved, Phantom takes the frankly disturbing relic of Red Robin's hands. Tim cares only in-so-far that the thing is out of Gotham and Phantom promises (so-signed by Batman? the actual fuck?) it will be safe and won't return to the human realm.

They're wrapping up in one of Tim's more 'civilian' passing safe-houses. Mostly because it was the closest, and Phantom said something about 'ley lines' and 'easier to open a portal'. Cool, whatever. Tim was going to burn this safe-house soon anyway.

Tim, as always, gets himself into trouble. Chronic Thinking Too Much Disease, they really ought to make a cure for it. He's reflecting, watching Phantom eat Cheerios right out of the box, sitting on the counter, looking like he belongs there. When the fuck did Tim get Cheerios?

There's no denying it. Tim liked working with Phantom. The guy is good in a fight, doesn't rely on his powers too much, and kept up with Tim. Not not physically, but intellectually. And he's shockingly earnest when he isn't being a trash-talking little shit.

So. Tim gets an idea.

"Hey," he says before he's even thoroughly thought it out, "we should date."

Phantom pauses, gloved hand suspended in the middle of shoving another handful of cereal into his mouth, wide eyed and gaping. Attractive.

"Huh?" he says, eloquently.

"Not for real," Tim scrambles to explain. "I mean fake dating. Just hang around some, be a bit performative, nothing out of masks. We can say we're taking things slow and break up. Nightwing keeps trying to set me up with a date. This will get him off my case."

"Oooooh." Phantom resumes inhaling cereal. Why a ghost needs to eat, Tim would like to know, but it's probably rude to ask. Slowly chewing, Phantom seriously thinks it over. "You know, the council has been bugging me too. About dating. This could work out for both of us."

Council? Tim would like to know why a council is interested in Phantom dating. So he asks.

Phantom sighs explosively. Finally, he sets the Cheerios down. "OK, so like, this is need to know basis only. I haven't even disclosed it to the League. And like, Nightwing only knows because he's my friend and the Observants crashed one of our mission and blew the lid."

Pulling a face, Phantom waves an arm in an arc over his head. A crown appears, spinning and shooting off beams of light like an Aurora Borealis.

"I'm the Ghost King. It's a whole thing, no I am not taking questions on it at this time. Well, technically, I'm the Prince of the Infinite Realms because I'm too young to take the throne. So, there's a council and a regent. Whatever, not important!"

Phantom claps, getting himself back on track. "What that means is there's a council and Observants that are really interested in my personal shit. Including who I date. But like, I'm enjoying my brat girl summer and being single right now, not that they care."

Tim blinks. Then blinks again, slotting the new information in place alongside everything he knows about Phantom. That's... something.

"That sounds annoying," Tim says, instead of one of the approximately 23 questions in his head that are quickly spawning more by the second. "Fake dating would solve both of our problems."

Because Tim is a professional, they make a contract. Phantom will remain Red Robin's boyfriend, since they're taking it slow and no secret identities will need to be disclosed. Tim doesn't ask why Phantom would have a secret identity... he's dead? Saves the question for the later.

Red Robin will remain Phantom's totally human badass vigilante boyfriend, since they're taking it slow and Tim won't be required to do anything in any capacity for the Infinite Realms.

Then they set boundaries. Date ideas, what they're comfortable with for PDA, how much they'll have to do to sell it.

"I mean," Phantoms says, again with a mouthful of Cheerios. "Clockwork monitors the timelines, so he definitely already knows what we're doing. And he hasn't intervened yet." When Tim gives him A Look, Phantom helpfully explains, "He only intervenes when I do something stupid enough that'll change the course of the multiverse. So," then shrugs, entirely too nonchalant for Tim's tastes.

"If Clockwork already knows, won't he say something to the council or the Observants?" The very Observants Phantom has guaranteed will pop in on Tim at some point. So Tim feels compelled to ask.

"Nah," Phantom says. He kicks his feet from where he's sitting on the kitchen table now, right at Tim's elbow. "He hates the Observants more than I do. I bet he loves this. He's always down to fuck with them."

Great. That's... great.

Nothing can go wrong, right?

[seradyn]

A Beast of Greed Who Fell in Love

In honor of the Sylus myth dropping, I got possessed by writing demons and wrote this in one sitting. At 7am (I work swing shift lmao) 🫠🫠

Sylus pov as he thinks about how he fell in love with you, and reader absolutely spoiling him with love and affection. Tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive at the end 😇

Not gender neutral, but no description of reader is given, just some pronoun usage. No use of y/n

Word count: 2190

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sylus could say, with utter certainty, that he had never felt such contentment before.

What more could an infernal creature desire, he wondered, than to have his most beloved treasure nestled into his chest, resting with him as he lay in that meadow of maroon flowers, swaying in the temperate breeze that blew across the grass? How could he fight the satisfied smirk that spread across his face as he looked down at her, his tail wound possessively around her leg, his arms cradling her fragile form as his clawed thumbs rubbed tiny circles into her skin. His heart beat, as he gazed at her, and he could hear it chant mine, mine, mine, a symphony of his most exquisite desires. And she, too, had a blissful smile on her face, eyes closed as she battled the temptation to nap. To let yourself be vulnerable and, in turn, fall prey to this most monstrous being, who held you so gently.

But you were already his, weren’t you?

He could see it, in the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him, how you didn’t try to hide your love for him even slightly. He could feel it, when you both embraced, your hearts so close, he could feel them beating as one. He could taste it, when you were close enough to share a breath, when you leaned forward expectantly, like he hung the moon and stars just for you, like he was the reason there were bright summer days filled with laughter and silly dares, or that he caused the warm, cozy fires you huddled against in the cold, brewed the cup of hot tea in your hands, whose taste reminded you of cinnamon and family gatherings.

Like he was your world. And fuck, if he didn’t feel like it, with the way you looked at him.

Gods, he wanted that. To be your world. Forever he wanted that. To be your world until the stars went out, until the planets collapsed, until the universe winked out of existence, and he was plunged into darkness again.

Because you were his world, too.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, when you became more than a means to an end. Perhaps it was when he gripped you in his talons, ready to easily snuff out the life of another helpless interloper, and instead of seeing your eyes clouded with fear, instead of the begging for your measly life he expected, he saw them harden with defiance. Or, perhaps, it was the first time he brought you here, to this very field, where you held his hands so tenderly, kissed his claws as you profused how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you. Or, maybe, it was even today, when he took you flying again, how you laughed as the wind whipped your hair, and you reached out to run your hands through the passing clouds. Those raw, natural and alive moments where he could swear he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Either way, he realized it didn’t truly matter. Because regardless of when you went from being some hopeless, hapless girl, and became the very reason for his continued existence, he was utterly consumed by reverence for you. If you asked him to raze the world, asked him to carve out his heart for you, he’d ask how thoroughly you wanted the earth to be scorched, how you would like his heart presented to you.

You were his. And he, yours.

His nose twitched, and he let out a soft sigh. He could scent you on the wind. This perfect, perfect creature. He wanted to consume it, gulp down your essence like one who only knew dry sand and crumbling earth feeling the lapping of ocean waves for the very first time. He wanted to submerge himself in it, drown himself in this warmth, this scent, this feeling that felt like how home was always supposed to feel.

Although, he was wise enough to know not to drink the salty brine, despite its temptations. If he allowed her sweet nectar to touch his tongue, he may not know how to stop. May not be able too until there was nothing of you left, trying desperately to feed an insatiable maw. He was a greedy thing, he was well aware, and knew if you permitted him a taste, you may never see the light of day again. His primal urges that demanded he sequester you deep in his cave of treasures, where you belonged, to hoard you like the most precious being that you were, would be too strong to fight. His urge to fucking lick you, clean you and cover you in his own scent, like the great wyrms did to court each other, as he was sure his own parents once did, would take over, and you would see the truth of the beast you laid with.

Perhaps, though, he didn’t do as well of a job hiding them as he thought. His beloved stirred, sitting up to look at him with what he could only describe as pure, unfiltered adoration. Your eyes - they sparkled brighter than any gem or coin in his collection. Like someone had flown high enough to chase the stars, managed to catch one in their rapacious claws, just so they could dust your eyes with its light. Your smile - bright enough to rival the sun, and warm enough that it felt better than basking on the smoothest, sun-kissed rocks. Your hair softly danced on the breeze, the mid evening sky an orange-gold crown on your head, and Sylus thinks he understood why mortals go to church so often; for a chance to see something half as divine as you.

Absentmindedly, you began to trace the red cracks along his chest with your fingers, watching as it is guided to the red jewel encrusted on his chest. He manages to suppress a delighted shudder, but allows himself the pleased growl that rumbles in his chest, much like a purr, as the soft pads glide across the shattered glass of his pearlescent skin. He watches in unconcealed fascination as your hand is led to his faintly glowing heart, before starting anew on a different line, further down. He lets his eyes close, leaning his head back as you map out his body, of how his scales turn to pillowy flesh and back again. He can feel when you finished on his left side, where you started, and move to the right, leaving no part of him un-lavished by your affections.

When you finish there too, he looks down at you again, curiosity scampering across his expression. You flash him a look briefly, a spark of mischief igniting in your eyes, before you abruptly lean forward and begin to pepper the edges of his ruby heart with kisses. He sucked in a breath through his pointed teeth, his eyes slightly wide as you surprise him again by utterly spoiling him. Pressure built in his chest, just below your sweet lips, and he let out a shaky breath, trying to find relief before those unfamiliar emotions became too much. His tail squeezed your leg as you rounded the arrow shaped emblem over his heart, not stopping until you covered the entire outline of it with your decadent touch. When you arrived back where you started, you paused to leave a long, drawn out peck directly on his crystalline heart. His eyes almost rolled back in his head in sheer ecstasy, his tail lightly thumping against your rear in pure delight.

You laughed as you pulled away, the sound like a swell of music that made him feel like he was floating. He couldn’t help but chuckle as you patted his tail to get it to settle, scooching forward so your face was right above his. He saw the intent in your eyes, that mixture of fire and wine that made him feel intoxicated, made him want to kneel at your feet, obey your every command.

When your lips touched his, it felt like he was in heaven. That magical place that mortals coveted more than anything. He had no doubt it was a fallacy made to comfort the dead and dying; a place of endless pleasure and devoid of suffering was naive to even dream about. But when your mouth moved against his, when he gently swiped your bottom lip with his forked tongue, and you opened your mouth to let him taste you, breathe you in…he thinks he may have just found it.

And it is his. You are his.

He hummed into your mouth, chasing your lips as you tried to gulp down air. It was a long moment before you parted, but you eventually leaned away from him. He had to fight the snarl that bubbled in his throat, his tail tightening around your leg just so, and a clawed, beastial hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you back down, your lips reuniting, and he held your cheek with his other hand as he was returned to bliss.

You let out a surprised squeak as he did this, before letting out a giggle into his mouth. It took all of his willpower not to beat his wings against the cold dirt and lash his tail in complete euphoria at the sound. He nipped at her lips instead, thinking of how he would carve out the eardrums of anyone who dared to hear your angelic laugh. He was a greedy creature, and your sounds were his, for him alone. Your smiles would be directed at him alone, your laugh his to cherish alone. He must be a monster, he thinks, to steal the world's most precious flower and hide it away so none but him are permitted to admire its immaculate beauty.

But he is fine with that. He’ll happily play the monster, if it means he gets to keep you all to himself.

Slowly, you eased off his lips, yet you continued to kiss him, trailing a path up to the tendrils of scales that adorn his cheeks. He returned the favor, groaning quietly in appreciation as he pressed his greedy mouth into your neck, running his tongue along your pulse as you peppered his face with kisses. Although, because you simply must always do what he doesn’t expect, he finds himself frozen as you smoothly glide your hands up, grasping both his horns in your doughy palms and stroking them up and down, your nails scraping against his scalp as you reach the base of them. His head falls back again, a sound escaping his lips somewhere between a hiss and a purr. Gods, why did that feel so good? You must be an enchantress, a witch who has hexed him, to make him feel so many things he never even thought possible. He held you impossibly tighter, his claws nearly digging grooves into your back.

You chuckled from your place between his brows - he made it no secret he was putty in your hands. And it was because you cradled him so gently, allowed him to shape himself as he saw fit, that he permitted you to know such things. Would trust you, out of everyone, not to shape him in your own image, as you could if you chose. No, instead, he felt your hot breath roll across his ear as you leaned down to whisper to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a bated breath at that, pulling you away to look you in the eyes. He once anguished over this, thought himself undeserving. You are his most precious gem, the apple of his eye, his dearly beloved, deserving of being draped in only the finest from his hoard, bathed in the softest silks from faraway lands, cherished and worshiped above all else. Where does a creature such as himself find the audacity to ask for your hand as he walks into oblivion, he wondered?

But, now, he only smirks. “I’ll hold you to that,” he purred, winding his tail further up your leg in promise.

You nodded once, satisfied. “You better,” you say, taking his hand, pecking the back of it. “Because you’re the love of my life.”

Sylus smiles. A real, genuine smile, while his heart hurts with how full it feels, like it might burst from his chest and soar into the clouds, where he can laugh while he chases it down. He wondered if he were to throw himself from the highest cliffs, let the wind whistle past him, if these feelings, this lightness he now felt, would carry him into the sky, and he wouldn’t even need to lift his wings to fly.

He tilts your chin up with a single talon, rising to rest his forehead against yours. “And you are mine,” he whispered, prayed, revered. Declared it to all who would listen, could listen. “My beloved.”

Because now that he had you, secure in the knowledge that you were his, he was never letting you go.

You were his. Are his. Forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First Sylus (and LNDS) fic 🙌🙌 I have so many in the works and on the brain, including a huge long fic, but we’ll see what happens/what I post. One thing at a time 😌

Also it’s been like a year since my last fic lmaoooooo

[taurasiluvr]

cait’s good luck head???? #needthat

YES #NEEDTHAT ASAP 🫠

before tonight's game, you had found herself knelt down in front of your very hot, very tall girlfriend. caitlin's hand was gripping your head tightly as you worked your mouth over her, taking her nice and slow like she liked it.

her eyes were glued to your face, taking in your beauty. "god, you’re so good at this," caitlin groaned, her voice rough with pleasure. "always know how to make me feel good, sweetheart."

you hummed around her, the vibration making her hips jerk forward. Her grip on your head tightened, fingers threading through your hair as she guided your movements.

"just like that, baby," she panted. "keep going."

you looked up at her, meeting her gaze with your own heated one. The intensity in her eyes made your stomach flutter, the connection between you palpable. you picked up the pace, your finger slowly dipping inside of her in time with your mouth, determined to give her exactly what she needed.

caitlin's breath hitched, her head falling back as she let out a low, throaty moan. "oh fuck, 'm so close," she gasped, her hips rocking against you. "gonna make me come so hard, baby."

you moaned in response, the sound spurring her on as she moved faster, her body tense with impending release. you redoubled your efforts, wanting nothing more than to see her fall apart because of you.

with a cry, caitlin's body stiffened, her release crashing over her in waves. "o-oh, fuck, yes!" she shouted, her fingers tightening in your hair as she held you in place.

you continued to work her through her orgasm, only pulling back when her grip loosened and her breathing began to steady. you looked up at her, a satisfied smile on your lips. "good luck charm delivered," you teased, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

caitlin let out a breathless laugh, pulling you up to your feet and into a deep kiss. "you're amazing," she murmured against your lips. "how am I supposed to focus on the game now?"

"you’ll manage," you replied with a smirk, feeling a sense of pride at how thoroughly you'd unraveled her. "just remember this when you’re out there."

"oh trust me, i will," caitlin said, her eyes still glazed with post-orgasmic bliss. "always know how to give me that extra boost, princess."

you kissed her once more, lingering for a moment before stepping back. "go get 'em, champ," you said, giving her a playful swat on the butt.

caitlin grinned, her confidence visibly restored. "i will. and when i get back, i’m going to return the favor."

your face flushed as you blew her a kiss, knowing that she will deliver, win or lose.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[solarenchanting]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 ── .✦ gojō satoru x fem!reader

he made his wish before he even blew the candle

note: not thoroughly proofread (iʼm sorry (//ω//) ) + minor mention of suguru getō + usage of “[name].”

part one: birthday

the soft, silvery glow of the moon poured through the large circular window, illuminating his office. outside, the rain from the late night into the early morning was reduced with the faint drizzle, with the murmur of distant thundering.

the study desk, its wooden surface glistening faintly, was devoid of administration clutter. lesson plans and curriculum materials were stored away in the top drawer, the first-years’ assessments and mission reports in their own binder, and performance records and evaluations in another.

there was not much to it. the office was simple, organised, easy to navigate—a desk on the right side of the room, a lamp in the corner and a coffee table beside him as he sat on his rather expensive (not his words) chair, centered in the room.

there wasn’t a bookshelf filled with his favourite books—did he even have any?

the walls weren’t adorned with various framed portraits of his favourite artworks—no, that wasn’t his office.

there wasn’t a lingering scent of incense—was it lavender or sandalwood burning tonight?—held in that wooden boat burner perched on the windowsill.

there was no ticking of that pendulum clock hanging on a wall. where he’d stand in front of the clock, swaying his head side to side to match the rhythm of the silver swinging weight whenever he visited.

no.

it was quiet.

quiet, like the snow that would fall in tokyo later this month—when you’d compare its soft, powdery texture to his hair beneath your fingertips.

quiet, like the silence that followed that august afternoon. the sky was clear and blue just like his eyes, when you broke up with him.

quiet, like the moment you stood in front of him—almost unfamiliar, looking like the stranger he met years ago—and whispered, “goodbye, satoru.”

quiet, like the way he watched you leave, taking your memories of him with you, despite him still having so much to say.

he scoffed, clicking his tongue. his shoulders rose in a shrug as quick as they fell into a slump. his chair squeaked as he adjusted his position, slouching his back against the backrest with his neck leaning over the top rail.

his right ankle rested over his knee, forming a loose figure four. hands were clasped together over his stomach, he paused to tug at the damned blindfold—your words—lifting it up enough just to reveal one eye. he stared up at the ceiling, his gaze unreadable, lost in his thoughts.

the plain, dull surface seemed to echo the ache lying beneath his usual bravado—an ache that was raw, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore.

the worst part? he didn’t know what to do with it.

he was gojō satoru : the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. the one who shifted the balance of the world at birth. the sole inheritor of limitless and six eyes in four centuries. clan head, the pride of the gojō lineage, blessed with everything and anything—a god amongst mortals.

and yet, at this moment, he felt weak.

weak, because he didn’t know what to do with it—with the pain, the heartache, the… love.

love.

the most twisted curse of all.

a dry chuckle escaped his lips, chest rumbling lowly. he blinked his strained eyes, feeling his facial skin contract slightly from dried tear stains.

was he really going to spend the ungodly hours of his birthday being philosophical? placing reason behind everything that has led up to this?

stupid.

fucking stupid.

but he couldn’t help it. he couldn’t help but wonder: first, it was suguru—his best friend, his one and only—who walked out of his life.

and then, a year and four months ago—and he’s still counting—someone just as significant left him.

was his heart one beat slower than yours?

was he one step behind you?

those times walking side by side, walking hand-in-hand, were you both out of step?

he sighed tiredly, pulling his blindfold down to cover his eye, his hand returning clasp the other. he levelled his neck and stared blankly at the floor, his mind racing with images of you—the you that left him, eyes filled with unshed tears, lips whispering cracked words of finality. despite the painful memory, he couldn't help but think of you.

where are you now?

who are you with?

did you still have those gifts or have they been thrown away?

did you even remember that today—

buzz!

buzz!

he jerked in his seat, turning his head to look down at the coffee table, his phone vibrating eagerly against the wooden surface. his eyes caught a glance of the caller id, and he did a double take, breath catching, in clasping a hand, he reached out for the device with speed, bringing it up to his face.

1:01 ・Saturday, 7 December

Incoming Call

[last name] [name] ・0xx-xxxx-xxx

decline ・ accept

“... uh, hello?”

your voice—familiar and soft, a tentative whisper.

it was sudden; he hadn't thought it through. his heart overtook his mind before he could second-guess himself, pressing the phone to his ear and clearing his throat.

“hey… [name],” he greeted, his voice steady and measured, trying not to sound too wistful. it was simple, but good enough, he hoped.

“hey! i, uh, i just called to say, happy birthday!”

his lips tugged into a lopsided smile. beneath the ache in his heart, warmth began to blossom from hearing your voice—and the fact that you remembered. the forced cheerfulness, despite the awkwardness, was appreciated.

“thank you, i appreciate it. truly,” he chuckled, his voice was a bit hoarse but he hoped you couldn't tell. “you’re the first person to wish me.”

“really?”

he could see your disbelief—furrowed eyebrows, eyes blinking twice, and lips slightly parted. he shook his head, never imagining you’d be surprised by that. you used to stay up until midnight just to wish him first.

“yeah…”

“i see…”

“uh huh...”

you cleared your throat, your brain was definitely scrambling to come up with something to fill in the silence—and he doesn’t blame you, his brain was working overtime right now, grasping at straws.

“so, gojō, how ha—”

“no.”

“... huh?”

he gripped the phone, knuckles turning white.

“don’t—don’t call me that, [name]. don’t talk to me like we’re… strangers.”

you let out a shaky sigh—a breath mixed with uncertainty and resignation.

“then what are we? if not that… satoru?”

“anything but. for now, please?”

he knew he was crossing a line, holding onto a heart that had perhaps already grown thin from letting go of the love it once held for him—god, he hoped not. he prayed.

“satoru,” you warned, trying to be firm but the crack in your voice gave you away. “don't make this harder than it already is.”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.”

it’s not your’s, either—he wanted to say.

he didn't want the first conversation with you in a year and four months to be this tense. granted, this was to be expected. no amount of preparation could have lessened the heaviness of this moment.

in fact, he didn’t want this phone call to be the last moment with him. another painful memory you both have to walk away from—move on from and act like it never happened in front of everyone—the second either of you hangs up.

no, not again.

not if he can help it—not if he can create one last happy memory for the both of you.

“hey, [name]? can you do something for me? consider it my birthday wish.”

“your birthday wish?” you scoffed, playful yet wary. “isn’t that supposed to happen later on today? with a cake and candles with shoko and the rest of ‘em?”

he grinned, leaning back in his chair. he took off his blindfold—a gesture you would’ve appreciated if you were here—and stared back at the ceiling. this time, there was a hopeful glint in his eye.

“nah, not this wish.”

“yeah? what is it, then?”

“come over.”

“...”

“come over and celebrate with me, as if we never broke up, for one last time… please?”

a/n: part two for @moonchhu + @trinniee !! - hope you like it :')

i hope itʼs enjoyable to anyone who stumbles upon it <3

much love, from me to you ♡

[jarofstyles]

Cocoon- Best Friend's Dadrry

hello my loves, here is part 6 of the best friend's dadrry series!! I hope you enjoy

Patreon

Previous part

Warnings- age gap relationship, hints of smut, fluffy and angsty

WC- 2.9k

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“Fuck me.” Harry muttered, looking down at his phone.

It was a day in-office for him, one of the few ones that he still did just to keep order of it. Having his own company had a lot of perks, which were thoroughly enjoyed by the man with taking trips and spending money and living lavishly. One of the best so far, though, had been being able to be home when Y/N had days off. The pretty girl that stayed on his mind 25/8, the one he was still trying to gauge how she felt. 

Today had been scheduled before she had been given the day off. The man had mourned the loss of a later morning, snuggled between her legs with her thighs keeping his cheeks warm. He loved having breakfast in bed, languid licks at her sensitive cunt while she stroked his hair and squirmed under him with soft little sleepy moans. His ultimate best morning routine, tarnished by the fact he had to leave at 6 in the damn morning. He’d kissed her pouty lips goodbye and driven to the city, grumpy and under caffeinated as he sat down at his office chair. 

He’d been in the middle of a conference call when he had opened up the messages sent from Y/N. One in particular had him cursing under his breath. 

It was her in his bed. His shirt on her body, lifted up by her hand to expose her naked torso and the curve of her hips. Her beautiful, beautiful body that he had dragged himself away from this morning, albeit mournfully. His eyes took in the faded marks of his fingers on her hips and the very fresh love bite he had left on the swell of her breast. He could remember the exact moment he had given it to her, too. Her body laid out under him on the couch, vibrator he had snuck downstairs pressed firmly to her clit as she whined for him. He’d worshiped her breasts, sucking on the nipples until they swelled and made her shiver when he blew on them, kissing and licking every available inch of skin just because he could. Because Harry wanted to own her, and she loved to be owned by him. 

That one spot in particular had made her squeal, so he had latched on. Sucking rough, feeling her hips roll and her poor clit be slightly abused as she came and he kept it pressed there for another time around. Harry had become increasingly greedy with her and her body, her time. He wanted all of it. Making her orgasm was an addiction, feeling her nails dig into his arms as she weighed in his arms and telling him ‘enough’ but knowing she wasn’t safe wording out? He went feral on that. 

Their sexual chemistry was a modern marvel. He’d wondered many times how it was. Why it was. It had to be his daughter’s best friend who had finally unlocked the side of him that he had thought never existed. Passion and lust and the need to please had engulfed him like a wall of flames as soon as they kissed, achy hands gripping soft flesh and pulling her closer and closer so he could get her scent on his skin. Her taste on his lips. His orgasms before were barely considered now that he had came inside of her.

Y/N had woken up a part of him that he had thought had died a long time ago. The adventurous sex and excitement, he felt like a boy discovering love and intimacy all over again. It was terrifying and exhilarating and he wanted to hoard all of these moments with her for himself. He had considered it a potential midlife crisis when the topic had been broached, but quickly dismissed that. The things he felt for her were real. The sweaty palms and the need to please and the shot of butterflies shot into his stomach when she fucking smiled at him. He had been in a few relationships in the past and it was similar, but Y/N just seemed to understand a part of him.Unspoken, perhaps, but it seemed like she didn’t even have to try to make him happy. Her simple being an natural instincts leaned towards his preferences.  

“What?” One of the voices on the call had responded. 

Fuck.

“Sorry, I spilled coffee on myself.” He tried to save it. “I apologize for the unprofessionalism, it just burned me.” He hadn’t realized he said it out loud. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s awful. Are you alright?” Another voice asked, the concern making him smile to himself. 

“Yes, I’m fine. We can continue.” 

His eyes went back to the photo, making sure to mute himself this time as his thumbs typed out a text to her. 

H: What are you trying to do? 

H: You know I’m in a meeting right now. 

💋: I know 😇

💋: thought you’d like some motivation. 

H: The only things it’s motivating me to do is mark your ass up with my hand when I get home. 

💋: say it again, Daddy. I’m close. 

H: Y/N….

💋: Daddy H…. 

H: You’re lucky you’re cute. 

💋: ooo, what else am I? 

H: Trouble. 

💋: hm, maybe a little bit. 

💋: what else? 💋💋

H: One of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. Incredibly intelligent. Kind. Strong willed. 

💋: … damn. I was teasing but you’re making me blush. 

💋: you’ve earned a blowie when you come home. 

H: I’m only stating the truth.

His smile grew as he realized that she called his place home. 

H: You’ll still be there when I get home?

💋: Mhm. I was going to run errands but the bed… it’s too comfortable. 

💋: I think you should bring home take out and eat it with me in bed. Be lazy with me. We can watch the documentary you wanted to see.

H: I won’t complain about coming home to my pretty girl in bed. 

In fact, it would make him giddy all day. She wanted to spend time with him like that?  Yes, they’d done it a lot before but it felt way better now. More real. Domestic. 

💋: I’d hope not. 

💋: not opposed to a pizza and some wine. Just putting it out there. 

H: Anything for you, darling. 

💋: if you keep saying that you won’t be able to get rid of me. 

H: I wouldn’t dream of it. 

He never wanted to. He wanted to keep her. That was part of the problem. 

—-

Harry came home with two pizza boxes in hand and the requested wine in the other. The house was quiet, tranquil. The string lights she had asked to hang up on the deck were on and the sun was almost set, casting s glow into the kitchen as he walked through it. His home had felt so empty when his daughter had left for college, even more so when she’d actually moved out- but having Y/N here was a remedy. A blessing. He wanted to come home every night to her shoes in the entryway. Her mug in the sink. She made it feel like a home again.  

His briefcase was set down in the office, his work phone left too so he didn’t have it and grabbed two glasses from the kitchen before he basically zoomed up the stairs, opening his bedroom door to see- a lump. 

A Y/N sized lump under the covers. Hair piled up on top of her head peeked out of his duvet that was clutched close to her face, which was smushed slightly against his pillow. She was sleeping on his pillow on her side of the bed. His heart tingled, a slight smile rising on his face as he placed the pizza boxes down on the dresser and the wine following. 

He took a moment to observe her. He’d done it plenty of times before as she slept. Creepy? Perhaps. But there was something so sweet about her when she fell asleep. Staying curled in his bed, no walls up, she let go of any defenses and felt safe enough with him to snooze in his bed- with or without him home. Her gentle breathing was all he could hear besides the low buzz of the tv playing some show he couldn’t place, the peaceful look on her face one he wished he could memorize. 

Fingers couldn’t stop the urge, reaching out and brushing the hair from her face. The baby hair that had been fussed with and fallen out in her sleep, her warm skin igniting his fingertips. She was so goddamn beautiful, it made his heart ache a little bit in his chest. He knew she was younger than him, but she was a woman. She was a sweet woman, strong and full of life and vigor. Y/N was hilarious and feisty but above all else, she was kind. She had a good heart. Perhaps there were flaws- ones he knew about, like her stubbornness, and some others that were more than likely hidden under a layer of heavily guarded fluff- but he thinks that they all add together to make her Y/N. And that in and of itself was fucking beautiful.

His chest squeezed when she leaned into his touch, falling deeper into the pillows with a soft noise. His touch calmed her, even in her sleep had her gravitating towards him. His heart felt like it was in his throat as he realized that it wasn't something he could talk himself out of. There were real feelings here. It wasn’t just an illicit affair anymore. Not just two people indulging in the taboo. It was a relationship, even without the label. 

He stroked over the apples of her cheeks, petting her heated skin as he saw her eyes flutter. One sleepily popped open, looking up at the man in confusion for a second before the most gut wrenchingly sweet smile tipped on her sleepy lips. A slow hand grabbed his hand keeping it where it was as she turned her face so her lips met his palm. Something that had become a habit for them both, her smooth, soft lips pressing chaste against the slightly tough skin of his hand. 

Wordlessly, her hand weakly tugged at him before she opened up the blankets. 

She wanted him in. 

Harry wasn’t going to tell her no. Especially not after how raw his heart felt at his revelation just mere seconds ago. He shrugged off his jacket and his belt, letting them fall to the floor so they wouldn’t irritate her while she scooted more towards the middle of the bed, allowing him space. His brain was whirling around, full of thoughts and things to say, but he couldn’t get them to organize themselves. All he could do is indulge in her request, crawling into the bed with her and laughing under her breath as she dove for his neck, tucking her face into the crook of it. 

God. He was so, so fucked. 

“Hi.” Out of everything he could have said, it was what escaped his lips. Arm wrapping underneath her body while the other moved to stroke her exceptionally warm back, he felt her snuggle into him. Melting into his body like it was a second piece to his own. Her breath was warm as he felt a single peck to the thin and sensitive skin of his throat, her nose running over it as she clutched his work shirt.

“Hi.” Was the peep back, her voice raspy with the sleep she had just gotten. Y/N was a nap fiend, always excusing herself for a bit of shut eye, but this had to be one of his new favorites. Sleepy Y/N in his bed, desperate for a cuddle when he got home. There was no semblance of hesitation, she was simply doing what she wanted and it made him feel full knowing that this was the choice.  

“Sleep well when I was gone, darling?” His voice was hushed, not wanting to break the intimate moment. This was the type of thing that Harry had been exceptionally greedy for lately. The tenderness, the sweet heart of this girl showing itself to him front and center. He could tell that sometimes it was intimidating for her to do such a thing, but she had been making him so, so happy. 

“Mhm.” The soft hum was met with her hand slipping under his work shirt, resting on his chest. He’d unbuttoned it and lost the tie on the way in, but he knew now that he needed to thank whatever gave him the idea to do that. Her little warm hand smoother over his skin, brushing over the light hair on his chest with another hum before she settled it there. “Missed you, though.” The admission had him smiling to himself, unable to see her face but knowing it was a little bit shy. His hand found a similar position, slipping under her tank top and splaying across her smooth, warm back. “Yeah? Missed you too. Always do.” He decided to reward her with some of his own vulnerability. It was a team effort. She should know he felt just as fond. “Don’t like goin’ into the office. S’not as nice as working from home.. And I can see more of you.” Lips brushed the crown of her head, inhaling deeply as he pressed a kiss to it. Her shampoo smelled so good, it was just essential Y/N, and it was all over his bed. He would seek it out when she inevitably, unfortunately, would have to return to her flat. 

Y/N waited for a second before raising her head from his neck, pecking his jaw and looking at him with those pretty, hazy with sleep eyes that he utterly adored. She took a moment to stare at him, his pulse going a bit harder when she didn’t reply right away- but he was rewarded. Her lips found his, her nimble fingers tangling in his silver necklace. Ever so gentle, her lips closed around his and she arched into him, letting it linger for a few seconds before Harry returned it, pecking her lips with a few light pecks. The sound of them made her smile, peeling her eyes back open to look at him. 

“I like when you stay here with me, too. I’m a little greedy with your time…” She joked, a tiny smile showing the humor. It wasn’t really a joke, though. Y/N had found it hard to stay away from the man. It was a culmination of things. What she had always intended to be hot, whirlwind sex before she settled and searched for a good job had turned into a mess. One that was starting to mean more to her than most other things. 

“I like it when you’re greedy.” there was a double meaning there but the tone was showing he meant it in the pure way. “I like spending time with you. Y’know that, yeah?” He mumbled, pulling her body in to snuggle against him. The softness of her limbs and heat of her nap soaked him to his bones, the covers pulled up around them to keep the cocoon of warmth steadily baking around them. “Love sex with you, but… This is nice too. Or goin’ out to the pool with you. Cooking with you. It’s made my days lately.” 

Y/N’s heart felt like it was a bit too full, a shy smile painting her lips. It was difficult to look him in the eye when he said sweet things like this when her brain hadn’t even fully broken out of the nap and kiss haze. The older man cradled her like she was precious- she felt precious- and he always made her feel appreciated. It had been the last thing she expected when this had started but she couldn’t deny how good it felt to know that she wasn’t just a body for him to fuck. He enjoyed spending time with her. 

“Me too.” She peeped, hiding her face back in his neck as she resumed her clinging to him. His cologne had faded a bit, leaving the last bits of it mixed with a tiny bit of coffee and his telltale soap smell of his skin soothing her down. “I’m happy. We can keep doing it, right?” 

He knew she had a bit of a shy streak when it came to softer things. A fierce and demanding girl when it came to sex, but real vulnerability had her cowering away a bit. Not to the point where he felt her pulling away from him, but showing that it still intimidated her. He nearly melted as she asked if they could continue it. As if he would ever be the one to tell her to stay away, as if he would ever be the one to break it off. As if he wasn’t completely and utterly obsessed with the girl in his arms. 

As if he wasn’t falling in love.

“As long as you’ll let me, darling, I’ll be here every day.”

[pillow-anime-talk]

knb murasakibura 44

# tags: scenario; current relationship; romance; studies!au; living together; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, size kink, cunnilingus, overstimulation, doll names

includes: female reader ft. atsushi murasakibara {knb}

author’s note: murasakibara? i am in

44. “Do you have anything else to say, fuckdoll?”

Renting an apartment with Atsushi was one of the best decisions you’ve made in your entire life; cooking together, taking care of each other, beautifying the house, buying a new, fragrant Christmas tree every year and going for daily walks were something that put a sincere smile on your face and relaxed your whole body and mind. Having your boyfriend by your side made you feel much better mentally, and you could always count on his support during a hard day at college or a busy weekend at your parents’ restaurant. Many conversations and understanding each other helped you make mature and mutual decisions.

Thanks to living together, you could also be much closer to each other than ever before; it wasn’t just about eating meals together or shopping in the grocery store, but most of all about sharing a bed and intimacy, which was the most valuable form of sharing free time for you, especially now that he was busy with basketball and you were busy with your studies.

“… Atsushi, stop it right now.” You laughed under your breath, trying not to mess up the induction cooker because of him. You were in the middle of making Italian pasta, and your boyfriend was trying to distract you from cooking – which was surprising, considering that no one loved your food more than him.

“You look so beautiful today.” He murmured directly into your ear, and you just nodded. That wasn’t true; you had his old Hulk-themed shirt, your hair was messy, and ducky slippers. “Give me a kiss.” He said a little louder, and you sighed.

“Baby, or I’ll never finish dinner.”

“Dinner can wait. I am not.”

You gave up. You turned off the burner and turned to your boyfriend, waiting for him to make a move. Never before had Atsushi been so eager for physical contact and your closeness. It was both funny, sweet, and suspicious. And you already knew why. Without the slightest problem, your tall boyfriend lifted your body up and carried you in his arms to the bedroom, on the other side of your apartment. In the bedroom, he immediately laid you on the bed and kissed your left leg from the ankle to the groin. He stopped for a moment at your thigh, pinching and teasing it, until he finally lifted your shirt a little and took off your lacy panties in a shade of light blue. Your pussy was already wet and thirsty for touch, so first Murasakibara blew warm air into it straight from his mouth, and then touched it with his tongue, causing slight shivers down your neck.

“So pretty when you look at me like this.” He said, looking at you from between your thighs, and you felt a burning heat on your face. As soon as his tongue slipped between your labia, you covered your mouth with your hand. Atsushi definitely knew what to do to drive you to the edge of madness.

As soon as his free, right hand touched your entrance and made circles around it, you arched your back a little to feel the warm touch and the pads of his fingers more thoroughly. At some point you even decided to intertwine your own fingers in his soft, light hair, pulling them from time to time due to the movements of his agile tongue and skillful – probably from basketball – fingers. You felt your juices dripping onto his chest, and yet he didn’t stop giving you pleasure; he played with your pubic mound, nibbled the skin around your pussy, fucked you with his fingers and licked your clit with passion, causing spasms and chills in your whole body. Every time you were close to climax and orgasm he slowed down, kissing the insides of your thighs and the skin around your belly button, to after a short break hit your uterus with his fingers even harder or massage your clit with his thumb. You almost cried with delight and pleasure.

At some point, when you were close to the end once again, he stopped completely. From the corner of your eye you only noticed his red cheeks, wet lips and the bulge in his shorts. It didn’t take long before Atsushi took off his shirt and bottom clothes, and his cock hit your leg. As soon as he grabbed it in his hand, you noticed the veins full of blood and the cum dripping from its head. Then he moved his swollen cock right to your pussy, looking you in the eye.

“… Do you have anything else to say, fuckdoll?” He asked with a sneer, and you shook your head. You had nothing more to say. You wanted him to fuck you so hard that you wouldn’t be able to finish today’s tasks and dinner. Nothing else mattered to you anymore.

[goodolddumbbanana]

I don't think a lot of people realize the reason why Sun acts nonchalant with Moon while just after the last episode, Sun just said out loud that he doesn't think his relationship with Old Moon is good.

Old moon, or Moon now, he is not an enemy or a stranger. He is his brother, the one who stayed with Sun longest, for better or worse, from the very beginning. They only have each other, and even if they fought a lot back then, they couldn't survive if one of them died. (Moon would go crazy due to KC, and Sun would get scrapped for him couldn't make enough money to keep the daycare float.)

Their relationship is horribly toxic, not because of how terrible Moon treated Sun, or how Sun completely relied on Moon, but also because Sun and Moon love and care for each other so deeply.

Surely, there were some moments when things got worse, but isn't any relationship end ups like that sometimes? That is what the victim of abused relationships, or from a family abuse always believes.

It is my fault. Maybe I have done something wrong. Maybe I shouldn't pushed him too hard. Maybe if I could control Eclipse better, Moon wouldn't be mad like that. I shouldn't break Moon's computer. It was not Moon's fault, it was his KC active. It was not Moon's fault, I am the one who did something stupid.

Because despite all of Moon's flaws, Moon was not entirely terrible with Sun. They still have a lot of good old dynamic siblings moments, and Moon always the one who fixes the mess Sun ends up (getting scammed from Monty) and sometimes, saves Sun from Moon's mess (Eclipse).

Moon was not only the one who hurt Sun, but he was also the one who saved and cared for him, the source of both his joy and his despair. And isn't it sad? When the one who loves you deeply is the one who hurts you most? The one who would sacrifice the world for you, is the one to make your life a living hell?

That's the reason why, a lot of victims from an abusive house, couldn't cut ties with their families, especially if the relationship is not built on thoroughly manipulation like Eclipse and Lunar.

We can see that, Sun at first, didn't even realise their relationship was bad. He has Earth, even the New Moon points that out for him, but he still stubbornly thinks all of this happened, (Lunar blew up, Eclipse took the star, Old Moon died) was his fault only.

It was not until when Sun distanced himself from Moon like for a whole year, and through a lot of therapies with Earth and New Moon, and with him hung out more with Foxy, Freddy, Lunar, Earth,... making him realise how awful his relationship with Old Moon.

And still, Sun can't help but love the Old Moon, but miss him. Because letting Moon go means cutting a part of Sun's heart. It means he is selfish, ungrateful, for abandoning the one who always was there for him, until they died. It means all of their love, all of their time they shared together was meaningless.

I think Sun realised how easily he can just to say fuck off with Moon and never let Moon walk into Sun's life again. Because Moon and Monty and the others, they will understand Sun's wishes (maybe, not so sure) . But then it would mean Sun would be alone. He already lost the Old Moon, then the New Moon, I don't think he has a heart to go through this again.

Across the multiverse, the tragic destiny of a Sun, if he is not dead, then he would be forever alone, distanced from the others.

Furthermore, even if you stand your ground and say I would never forgive my abuser, you can't just do it. It does not work like that. Either this abuser gets out of your life and you never see them again, or some of your behaviour is still exactly just like when you and your abuser still stay together.

It's kind of confusing explaining but for some people, their PTSD makes them do exactly what they don't want to. Like even scared and hated their abuser so much, but still the victims find themselves comfortable to hangout and cheerful around the abuser.

For example, you might have said you hated someone's guts so bad and how terrible they have been treating you with everybody around, but as soon as this individual shows up, all of your negative emotions are just gone, flushed away into the thin air.

Sun trauma dumps a lot. He is not aware of it, or it is not his conscious choice, due to how bad he has been treated by Moon and how he needed to suppress his feelings to keep Moon happy and stay sane, that... Make Sun's word seems contrary to his actions sometimes.

Unreliable narrative symptoms.

No wonder why he seems to forgive Moon so quickly. He didn't. He just doesn't let his emotions get better of himself and for more worse reasons, seeing Moon make him regression back from where everything is good and cool and maybe not bad.

He still hates Moon, bitter of how Moon treated him. But Sun after trauma and trauma, has been so tired now. I feel like if Sun is a human, he just sleeps a day and never wants to get out of his bed.

Caring seems like a torture chores with Sun right now, and he now just lives out of his spite and hope nothing would go even worse.

I think if Moon ever goes bad again, it would be the last straw for Sun. Right now, Sun just seems unresponsive just because he is waiting. Waiting for when another shoe drops, waiting for Moon to snap again.

And when it happens, I think Sun will finally get a chance to cut ties of Moon.

Because for some people, even with someone who has long toxic co-dependent relationships, you only stay in that mess because you are caring and find something worth staying .

[starlight-artbby]

Y'all the newest X-Men 97 episode blew me away. Like the animation ate down and it was just so good like I was thoroughly enjoying every second.

I knew that Scott was gonna hold some grudge against the professor and I don't blame him. He left his dream to his team and honestly failed him and damn did this episode remind him that over and over again. Especially Rogue who clearly was fed up with his ass. And I swear I was gonna cry when I saw her wearing Remy's coat and I had a tear nearly fall from my eye when Kurt looked so devastated to tell her again the Remy is dead like ugh I was in so much pain.

Speaking of pain Jubilee and Roberto. How dare they do this to me. I knew from a mile away that Roberto Was gonna go with Magneto (along with Rogue) and I completely understand why. His mother straight up abandon him and handed him to the people who wanted to kill him. Like of course he is gonna be pissed but when Jubilee said you still have me I felt like a part of me died because he walked away and that shit had to hurt.

Now I completely laughed when Magneto said the line about Lilandra. I can't remember exactly what he said but I do recall being gagged and gooped and not him telling Xavier to shut up like if those two don't just go to couples counseling...

Now I won't lie, Morph had me when he pretending to be Sinister so if I were Bastion I most certainly was gonna get caught. May I also express how I thought that Beast was going to get pieced through the chest during that fight sequence like I was on the edge of my toes.

Once again Sinister proved to me why I hate him so much. Having Jean fight her own son?!? Foul and then her contacting Cyclops to tell him that she loves him!!! Like why does X-Men 97 like hurting us? And if Storm or Forge ends up dead, I am most certainly fighting someone.

Now the new looks... Huh... Why did they have to put that cap on my boy Scott. And Jean she ate down with the boots but the gloves and the mask?!?! No mam. I loved Rogues outfit along with Logan's. They could've had morph in something a lot better. Kurt ate as usual and of course Jubilee ate up her look along with Storm. I couldn't tell if beast put on anything different so I can't say much about that but regardless, some of the team needed a better wardrobe.

Now I know some people will probably get mad at Rogue and Roberto for going with Magneto but honestly, Rogue was there on Genosha. It has messed her up so badly and we continue to see the side effects till this very episode. I already explained Roberto so I honestly am not mad at him but I am sad that he couldn't see that Jubilee was there for him just like sadly Rogue couldn't see that the team would be there for her but honestly, their feelings are still valid as fuck and I don't want to hear anyone else say other wise.

Also why did they have to do Wolverine like that!! Huh!!! Like y'all better have his regeneration ability kick in. I also feel so bad cause I know that nobody was expecting murder to occur up there that's for sure.

(also Scott stopping Xavier from forcing Magneto to return power was everything to me cause he did it for Jean and it's time he shows that woman some love.)

Also where is Bishop!?!?!

Now for the things I enjoyed. I loved the new opening. I was so happy to see Storm back in it again. It really made things start off well for the episode. I loved Rogue clocking Xavier and telling him exactly what she needed to say.

My favorite part of the episode though had to be when Jean and Storm had reunited and when they parted ways on the mission. Those two are sisters and I love the show for reminding us of their incredible bond I just lived to see it.

I also enjoyed Scott and Jean giving each other a hug before they parted ways and when Scott gave Nathan that advice I truly loved it. I am hoping that'll stop him from attacking Jean (possibly) if not, Jean will girlboss her way out of there.

I can't wait for the final episode (I hope I get Remy and Logan and anyone else who gets injured back) ♡♡♡♡

[lokischocolatefountain]

omg say no to me and salvation have me gagging… pretty please write more, i need hubby javi 🥵 ur amazing

I love that you liked hubby Javi! I like him a lot too. So, a little warning: I wrote this out sleep deprived and in a hurry so it’s going to be full of mistakes. 🙈 but I hope you like it. Wrote a little birthday themed thing for Javier Peña and his wife from this married Javi universe because it’s Pedrito’s birthday. Happy birthday to him and tbh fuck him (respectfully) for making me thirst over a fucking cop (on top of a merge mansion ad character I hate him).

Switch It Up

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3.8k words

Summary: Javier Peña and his wife switch roles for his birthday

Javier Peña was a grown man. He was a federal agent working for the DEA in Columbia, he saw several horrors a day and had a goddamn gun tucked in the back of his jeans. He was a grown man with a whole wife to show for his age and maturity.

He should not be so bummed about a lonely birthday.

It was her fault really. Before her, he didn’t really do birthdays. His friends usually got him presents— the best whiskey they could afford and a trip to the strip club and paid for prostitutes. It was more for their sake than his own (though he couldn’t deny that he had fun). When it got serious with his now wife, he opted to forego the stripclub and the prostitutes because he had decided that it was no longer fun to sabotage the one good thing in his life. He’d exchanged the bachelor life fun for a perfect day off with her.

Every year brought something different; she was innovative that way. The first year, she woke him up at midnight with her lips around his dick and brought him the cake she baked from scratch. She blew him and he blew the candles. He hadn’t cut a cake in years. The last time was when his Ma was still alive. They ate the cake together, saved some for Steve and Connie and he ate her to thank her for being the perfect girlfriend.

Last year, she took him for an all expense paid trip to Medellín for a whole week. It was the most time he’d gotten away from work and the only time he spent in Medellín without chasing after pieces of shit. She had arranged for some mountain climbing shit because of his love for physical exertion. He chose instead to love her all week long for physical exertion. She complained about having brought her climbing gear for no reason, but that didn’t last long. It was a little hard to complain when you had a dick in your mouth.

He’d been thoroughly spoiled as a husband.

This year, he was all alone with a whiskey bottle from Steve and Connie, sloppy cheek kisses from little Olivia and a whole cake from his wife. He’d kept a sizable slice for himself and placed the rest in the break room for everyone to enjoy. Cake wasn’t as delicious with nobody to share it with.

Javi didn’t mean to be ungrateful. He knew she would’ve stayed behind if she could have. But her parents really needed her to help with the sale of her childhood home and he wasn’t going to act like a kid and ask her to stay because it was his birthday. It would’ve been silly.

“Jav! They found the guys. Carillo needs you in this address right fucking now,” said Steve, barelling into their office with a piece of paper in hand.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, taking the paper with a scribbled address. He’d sat idly at work all day tackling their paperwork backlog while Steve was out there doing some real work.

The location was…strange. It was oddly quiet and there was no Carillo, no CNP guys. He had a choice to make— he could wait right there and keep an eye on the building and go in when the rest of the guys arrived. Or he could go in by himself. The second was extremely unwise. He would get told off by everyone from Noonan to his wife. If he didn’t get killed first.

Minutes passed by and he chose the latter option. He could handle Noonan. She didn’t approve of his actions, but she always understood. Gun tucked in the back of his jeans, he crept around the building. Once he’d found an open window, he slipped in, praying to the Gods he no longer believed in to keep him safe for another day.

Darkness suffocated his sight as he walked further into the building. The noise from outside the building grew dimmer and dimmer, eventually fading into the background. He crept like a cat, his shoes making nothing but the slightest whispers against the floor of the building. It had looked like a commercial building from the outside and if he remembered right, this place had once been a stripclub. Not one of the good ones for sure. It had to have shut down for a reason.

The place was littered with cardboard boxes, the contents of which he would explore had he not a mission in mind. Three of the most elusive hit men on Escobar’s payroll were hiding out somewhere in the building. The location was a bit too unusual for the men who had a record of gravitating towards luxury, but it wasn’t too out of place for them to have chosen a former strip club.

He spun in place when he heard a clatter behind him, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound and his heart beginning to beat faster. He took a few steps towards the source of the sound, wandering further into the building.

Click, click, click

High heels against wood? No, can’t be…

Nevertheless, he followed the sound.

Ahem

What the fuck…

Lights went up suddenly, illuminating the dark hall. The room had been swept clean with nothing but a chair in front of the stage. Under the bright lights above the stage glimmering a beautiful silver was a pole.

A voice cleared its throat again. When it finally spoke, it had a sultry tone to it.

“Agente Peña…”

No… It can’t be.

Click, click, click, click, click….

He saw the impractically high high heels first. Click, click, click against floors that were probably designed to amplify these sounds. The red of the shoes stopped to give way to white socks stretched tight around legs he would kill to throw over his shoulders. The socks mercifully, or mercilessly, stopped under bruised knees to expose full thighs he wanted to sink his nails into.

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, earning the laughter of the woman on the stage.

“Your friends told me it was your birthday, Agente…”

“It is,” he said, tucking his gun away. Hands on his waist, he took slow steps towards her. He needed to see her up close, confirm that his mind wasn’t conjuring up the most salacious thoughts after having had to go without a good fuck for an entire week.

“Your friends seem annoyed, Agente… They say they miss the fun single Javi who they could take to strip clubs. Now, I’ve never met this fun Javi before, but god if you look like this when you’re not fun,” she said, using her index finger to point at him, “you must look hot as fuck when you’re fun.”

“This your way of telling me I’m usually boring, sweetheart?” He asked, taking a seat on the chair she’d set out for him in front of the stage. He made sure to spread his legs and lean back comfortably in his seat before he folded his arms behind his head.

She smiled her sweet shy smile that he was sure was responsible for landing him in this exact moment in his life. She bit down on her brightly painted lips and wrapped his hand around the pole before swinging around. Her hair was out of the tight pony she put it up in for work. As she twirled around the pole, her hair swung free, caressing the wind before resting on her shoulder and cascading down the crimson shirt she’d stolen from his cupboard.

“You’re going to do as I say if you want a good night, Agente…”

“Ah… That’s how it is?” He taunted, letting condescension slip into his voice. “Alright. As you command, sweet thing.”

“Good boy,” she purred, the sound going straight to his cock. Calm the fuck down, Peña. She hasn’t even begun yet.

“Hands behind your back,” she ordered, looking down at him imposingly from where she stood.

“Sorry, what?” He asked, blinking rapidly and tilting his head to take a good look at her. Habituated to her shy smiles and pleas to be taken and fucked throughout their time together, it wasn’t an understatement to say that he was shaken by her sudden assumption of the commanding role.

Her fingers glided up and down the pole and for the first time he noticed that her nails were done up all pretty with the brightest red nail polish there was. Fuck, she’d gone all out. “You fuckin’ heard me, Peña,” she snapped and took a few steps forward before dropping to her ass, gently like a caress against the surface. He didn’t even know she could move like that. She hopped off the stage and his heart caught in his throat as she got closer to him and he caught a whiff of her perfume in the air. She stopped when she was over him, her legs spread out on either side of him. Oh how he’d missed the scent enveloping him as he buried himself in her and threw her into a world of ecstasy. The soft moan that escaped his lips surprised even him.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he breathed out, tracing a hand up her thigh only to be swatted away rudely. She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks and digging her nails into his skin just enough to give him a taste of how she’d be piercing the skin on his back as he fucked her later that night. He’d make her keep those shoes on for sure.

“Jesus!” She swore, the scorching heat of her gaze beginning to burn him. “No manners. Is this how you treat dancers, Agent? Fuckin American, touching everything, acting entitled to every goddamn thing, not following a single rule… It’s about time someone taught you a lesson.”

“Well darling, if there’s one thing I’m entitled to, it’s you,” he teased, hoping to rile her up and make her look all adorable and hot with rage. The next thing he knew was a stinging pain on his cheek.

“Once more.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she caressed the cheek she slapped. He swallowed, looked up at her and tried again, “Please, Ma’am. Once more.”

“Good boy,” she purred, her lips curling up in a smirk of satisfaction. Was this what she saw in him when she laid under him and took all that he had to give her for the night? Seeing her so confident in herself, feeling the sting of her authority on his cheek and sitting underneath her, he felt like he finally understood why liked this so much.

He had a feeling that as the night matured, he would only get a better understanding.

“Hands behind your back.”

Eyes still set on her, he moved his hands behind his back. Just like she’d ordered. She took a step back and he immediately missed her closeness, missed how she crowded over him and put him down in his place with just a stare. She slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out the leather pouch with the handcuffs. Once she retrieved what she’d wanted, she tossed the pouch over her shoulder. She circled him, their eyes still joined in the heated gaze of expectations. He leaned back on his chair, praying to the lord that he didn’t look absurd doing that. The last thing he wanted to do was make her laugh.

The cold metal of his cuffs nipped at his wrists and he attempted to pull his wrists in opposite directions, enjoying his own failure at achieving the freedoms he only half-heartedly sought. She placed her hands on his shoulders from her place behind him and descended lazily down to his eye-level.

“Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor. Disfruta del espectáculo,” she whispered before giving him a peck on the cheek. He attempted futilely to grab her so that he could kiss her properly, so that he could devour her lips and thank her for showing up for him.

There was music. It didn’t appear magically. She pressed a button on the cassette player he recognized from home before she walked up the stairs to the stage. Everything seemed torturously slow. Even the way she walked away from him looked to be designed as slow poison for him.

She descended gracefully to the floor and sat herself on her side, her back curved as she leaned back, her high-heel clad legs together with her left leg covering her right. She pushed her ass and tits out. She swept her leg out in a circle around herself, lifting it in the air as her right leg followed suit to make a semi circle. He caught a sparkle of something under his shirt that she wore as she exposed herself to him for a few seconds before she bent her knees and brought her legs back to where they started.

Javi drew in a sharp breath as she quickly got to her knees and twirled around again. This time, she let her right knee support her as she let the left kiss the smooth floors with the platforms of her shoes, back and forth, back and forth as his cock twitched in his pants. He would never forgive himself if he ended up jizzing in his pants seconds into her dance that she’d clearly put a lot of effort into.

Next thing he knew, she was upside down— fuckin’ hell— and spreading her legs, giving him a view of the little skirt and thongs she wore underneath as his shirt gave way to gravity and revealed her for him. She snapped her legs shut, as though punishing him for staring before she slid her legs over the floor and laid herself out flat, her delicious behind bouncing from her momentum. Spreading her knees apart, she rose from her position and let her hair flip around before she got up— how the fuck did she get up from that position??

Fuck!

He realized he’d said that out loud when she looked behind her shoulder and laughed before holding the pole, her fingers wrapping around it one by one. She stroked the goddamn thing up and down like she would his cock and fuck he’d be proud if he wasn’t so mad about being locked up with nothing to do but watch, to be a passive participant in her erotic torture of him.

She twirled and twirled a little more around the pole in many different ways. She moved effortlessly, dancing around the thing like it was no big deal. But he knew the strength it took to swing around a pole like that and look sexy as hell while at it. He knew how strong she was from the way she bent one leg around the pole and spun as she let the other draw a circle around her.

His thoughts, as scarce as they were with the sight in front of him, went off to a dreamland where he took advantage of all the flexibility she was displaying to bend her in every which way he wanted, to take her in all the ways he imagined. Sexier was the thought of her practicing this routine. Just for his sake. Just to do something special for him.

When she stepped away from the pole for a few seconds, Javi thought that was it. He was a fool. She stopped at the edge of the stage and looked down at him before she snapped the button of the shirt off, exposing just a bit of her cleavage. Eyes trained on his to derive sick joy from his torment, she snapped the buttons open one by one.

She was a sight.

Back to the pole, she held it like it was a part of her, letting the metal assist her as she closed her eyes and put herself on artistic display for him. He was one lucky man. He’d always known, but it bore repeating. He was lucky as fuck. She shed the shirt and he moaned as the action gave him more of her to see. He would never tire of seeing her body no matter how many times she took her clothes off for him be it to seduce him or simply take a shower.

Behind him, he struggled against his handcuffs, the metal digging into his skin and leaving marks for him to cover up the next morning.

He gasped as she climbed the thing like it was no big deal and wrapped herself around it. His heart jumped right out as her back arched backwards and he thought for a moment that she would fall. But she didn’t. Her legs were holding her in place around the pole. She brought herself back down, landing her shoes on the ground and pinning him with her gaze. She then took the strings wrapped around her waist and tugged, letting the barely-there skirt unfurl from around her.

His mouth was wide open in awe when she threw the sparkly black fabric at him. It covered his eyes for a fraction of a second as it hit him in the face before dropping down to his lap. He growled her name and cursed as his hips rose up from the chair in a desperate search for contact. Any contact. God, he’d even fuck his fist if she’d let him. But she ignored his plight, letting her starving husband continue starving as she moved torturously both on the pole and the floor in front of it.

When her bra came off—tossed in his direction again— he whimpered like a pathetic creature that was kicked by something much bigger and more powerful than he was. He was helpless and horny as fuck and enjoying it.

Perhaps because she’d decided to have mercy on him or just because her dance had ended, she hopped off the stage and stalked towards him like she was a hungry beast and he her latest game that she could wait to tear into.

“Please, Ma’am,” the honorific slipped out without him meaning to. “I need…please,” he begged, his voice shaky as he struggled to articulate what it was that he needed. He let out little mewls of desperation as he struggled to form words that weren’t ‘please or Ma’am’.

She bit down on her lip and tilted her head as she considered him. “Aww baby, it’s alright.”

“P-please,” he muttered, his worldly coming out airy.

She palmed him through his jeans and stroked him, her eyes twinkling as she regarded him in his struggle. His breaths grew fast with just the first touch. He pleaded repeatedly, calling her every sweet name in the dictionary- in two dictionaries of two languages, but she didn’t seem to want to free him. She was enjoying his helplessness too much.

She laughed and bent at the waist to look him eye-to-eye, “I got you so hard just dancing for you huh, Javier?”

He was no longer in control of any part of his body. It was all hers from the hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. They all danced to her beat, worshiped at her altar, awaited her command with bated breath and followed her to his own destruction. His lips, now hers, begged “Y-yes Ma’am. I w-want— please! Want to touch you. Tan bonita... Quiero que tú… Por favor, patróna—”

“You want to touch me?” She asked, raising a cruel eyebrow at him. “Really? What makes you think you deserve that, baby? What have you done to deserve me?”

“I’ll do anything. Anyth— any— fuck!” He whimpered as the world disappeared around him, leaving only a hazy vision of her leaning in front of him, her hand around him. He felt his underwear get wet from his embarrassingly quick release as he muttered a curse in regret.

She tipped his head back and pressed her lips to his, their tongues dancing around each other and their lips taking in as much as they could of the other. The few days of separation had really gotten to him and he was pleased to know that he wasn’t alone with the way she pushed for more from their kiss.

“‘M so sorry, baby. That was…I lasted longer as a teenager, believe me,” he explained himself, wanting to hide himself away yet willing to show her all of him. All his embarrassment and sexual failures and his genuine feeling of regret over the way he ended the night.

She laughed softly, not in mockery but with her love. He could always feel her love.

“It’s okay, mi amor. Nothing to apologize for. You’ve made me cum with less, I swear,” she said, draping herself across his lap and cradling his face in her hand. She kissed him on the cheek and then the other and then his forehead. “Happy birthday, Javi.”

He smiled, no grinned, at her as he felt his heart fill up with gratitude for her. “I can’t believe you came back from stateside just for this.”

“About that…” she trailed, her index finger reaching out and playing with his mustache. “I never left.”

“What!?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“You’ve been gone for three days!”

“I was at my friend’s.”

“Your parents called and said you reached home safely!” He exclaimed. How deep was this plot!? Who were all in on it? And what kind of a fool was he to not notice a thing. He should’ve asked her parents to give her the phone! He should’ve checked and caught them in the lie.

“I asked them—”

“You asked them to lie for you to give me a sex present for my birthday?”

“Nooo! Well, not like that! I didn’t call them and ask them to lie to you because I wanted to give you a fucking pole dance- strip show thing for your birthday. I just made something up. My god, Javi!” She huffed, shoving at his chest lightly.

“Wait! And Steve. FUCKIN STEVE! What did you tell HIM?”

“Don’t worry, your dignity is safe with me. Didn’t tell him I was gonna restrain you and make you call me Ma’am and oh, what else was it? Patróna?” She teased, smiling as she played with his hair.

“Si, Patróna,” he retorted right back, making her smile transform into a gasp and her eyes turn wide.

“Shut up,” she mumbled as she got off his lap and reached behind him. She uncuffed him and he was immediately upon her. She yelped as he pulled her into his lap, giggling as he pressed kisses all over her face.

“Javi, stooop!” She whined but leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Gonna take you back home, baby. Need to do this right,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Oh? Do it right? You gonna hold me down and fuck me hard, Agente Peña?” She asked as he took his leather jacket off of himself. Finding her clothes would take too much time and he was not willing to spend his previous time with her after being deceived into separation.

“Pfft, no! You, my darling wife, are going to hold me down and take what you want,” he declared, excited to lean back and let her do the work for that night. And perhaps other nights when he needed her to take over and take guide him though it. It wasn’t something he thought he would like, but with her, every day was a surprise and he discovered new things about himself even after so many years alive.

Wrapped up in his jacket, she let him carry her to his jeep and he drove her home, a happy and grateful man.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

Read more of my Javier Peña fics here

[doctordragon]

One aspect I hope we see in the wranduin reunion that is definitely 100% going to happen is how Wrathion is probably the last person Anduin wants to see, because he's living reminder of Anduin's flaws.

First of all, Wrathion is a reminder of the limits/flaws of Anduin's kindness. Anduin wasn't kind to Wrathion - despite befriending him he still insisted on distrust and keeping him at arm's length. This distrust and lack of kindness was what caused Wrathion to knock Anduin out instead of confessing his plans. And, to make things worse, Wrathion found stability and trustworthiness without Anduin. Wrathion found people who do trust him, despite his internalizations of Anduin's insistence that he can't be trusted because he's a black dragon.

Wrathion is also a reminder of a time Anduin's kindness failed and blew up in his face. Anduin's talks with Garrosh were implied to be what influenced Wrathion's dumb plot in the first place. His actions of kindness towards Garrosh, warning him of the poison and insisting he be free from his chains, directly enabled Wrathion's plot, who arguably used Anduin's kindness against him.

Second, Wrathion is a victim of Anduin's dark side. Anduin's dark side comes out when he's pushed to his limits through trauma. We see this in their initial relationship with Anduin's aforementioned distrust and berating of Wrathion. This is a trauma response though, as having been thoroughly fucked over by Onyxia, someone Wrathion calls "auntie" and even possibly admires. Especially directly after the Cataclysm, it makes sense that Anduin, alongside basically everyone, would distrust the son of Deathwing. But, of course, this distrust lead to a schism in their relationship that almost ended the world.

Most importantly though, Wrathion is someone who Anduin enjoyed hurting before he was mentally enslaved. Anduin's whole arc in SL is about how he doesn't know how much of the joy he feels from inflicting pain on others is from himself and how much is from outside influence of Domination magic. This is a parallel to the 8.3 intro cinematic. What Anduin says after The Punch is interesting: "Oh, you deserve much more than that." This line implies a level of righteous joy and relief from inflicting pain onto Wrathion. Sure, Anduin was being influenced by N'zoth at this moment, but N'zoth only amplifies emotions that are already there.

In addition, Wrathion's emotional intelligence is still... lacking (despite quite a bit of development), so I really don't think he would handle Anduin's volatile state very well. I think he would desperately try to get the old Anduin back and try to return to something like their old relationship, which I really think is the last thing Anduin needs.

[artbyblastweave]

So on balance I generally do enjoy Mark Millar, and a big part of why I enjoy Mark Millar is that a lot of his superhero stuff demonstrates the same awareness about the genre that Worm does- the sense of an unstable equilibrium, that the center cannot hold in the superhero universe as typically presented. Jupiter's Legacy, Super Crooks, Old Man Logan, Wanted, The Ultimates. Arguably Civil War. I have a whole other post buried in my drafts about how that bleak throughline keeps cropping up in his cape work. Specifically in his cape work, also- the man has written a lot of lighthearted, at times almost cloyingly sincere and optimistic one-off miniseries in other genres. Starlight: The Return Of Duke McQueen, Huck, Chrononauts, Beyond. In tension with this cynicism about the capes is the fact that he also clearly believes that superheroes are really cool, and on some fundamental level a really deeply noble and empowering idea. Even Wanted, which is probably the most thoroughly tasteless thing of his that I've read all the way through, I recall as having had this interesting subtext of anger over the fact that there's an audience for a superhero work as cynical and grotesque as Wanted. ("Fine. We took all the whimsy and wonder and derring-do you claim to have outgrown out back and shot it. The corpse is cooling. Are you happy yet? Dark enough yet? Mature enough yet? This is what you wanted right?") Anyway, I think Kick-Ass the comic suffers gigantically from a failure to break in one direction or another, in regard to that tension. It gets very, very close to saying useful and interesting things about the genre at several points but keeps undercutting itself by transforming back into the object of its own attack. There's this initial line of questioning, right, which is, "what kind of person, in real life, might actually try this? How would it go?" And the comic has some compellingly miserable answers to that question! Everyone in costume is chasing the same power fantasy, clinging to the idea of being somebody. Dave is, in his own words, motivated by "the right combination of loneliness and despair," and he's not competent. He alternates between minor wins and brutal hospitalizations, the first two issues and change is just the world punishing him for being dumb enough to try this, and for the most part he's a LARPer, a self-identified asshole. Red Mist is a rich kid playing with his father's money. Big Daddy and Hit-girl are framed as the "real deal", genuinely competent in their ability to dish out violence, and the comic to some extent has the self-awareness to recognize that people who were actually any good at this would be even more horrifying than the LARPers. The Reveal that Big Daddy was an accountant- that he made up a tragic backstory and made his daughter a human weapon in order to pursue an escapist fantasy- genuinely lands like a meteor! But it fucks it up, because it also needs to be cool, cool enough to keep our attention, and so it pulls an about face. The horror of Hit-girl gets subsumed by the realization that she's also the coolest thing in the whole book, almost loadbearing in terms of having actually cool and interesting things happen on-panel, and so the end of the book turns into the exact kind of superviolent revenge story it was initially skewering as unrealistic and disconnected from the much more grounded grief and loss Dave is experiencing at the start of the book. Dave's costumed escapades goes from being an obviously stupid and egotistical attempt to claw back control of his life to... an actual method by which he claws back control of his life, and not in a way that feels terribly well-earned!

The sequels double down on this- alternating between "in real life this would be cheap and stupid and tinged with anticlimax" and "woooo! Let's ape Tarantino until something cool happens!" and honestly, that feels less worthy of analysis because what I'm pretty sure happened there is that the movie blew up and created A Demand For More Kick-Ass. In general what it feels like fundamentally happened here is that you ask, "what if superheroes were real," you land on the answer of "they'd look stupid, be stupid and die badly," but what does that leave you with? It's not like that wasn't the obvious answer already and it's definitely not eight issues of material. He can't pull the trigger on having everyone involved die badly in meanspirited ways to drive the point home, and he never quite threads the needle back to the reconstructive middle ground he badly wants the book to inhabit, the "real heroes work in soup kitchens and look out for their neighbors" area. Things just happen.

That said, the gag about the astroturfed swear-word "Tunk" is fantastic. 10/10, no notes

[mychlapci]

You know I love the fact IDW Ratchet and Thunderclash went to college together and Thunderclash is Ratchet's BFF.

I just feel it in my bones that he is the biggest whore. Like those two are the kind of best friends who routinely have threesomes with their BFF and BFF's longtime boyfriend.

Like maybe Drift realized post-conjunx that Ratchet was Good at sex. Like totally blew his mind and Rodimus refused to believe him. So Drift brings up the idea of bringing their amica into a threesome. Ratchet assumes he means Thunderclash just out of habit. So both Thunderclash and Rodimus turn up for the threesome and RatchClash are immediately the more the merrier and Ratchet is not opposed to Rodimus at all.

It ends up with both Rodimus and Drift thoroughly exhausted because both Ratchet and Thunderclash were built for stamina, one long-distance hauling, and the other as a medic. Pussy/spike destroyed while they take pity on the poor speedsters.

oh fuck dude, the Ratchet and Thunderclash friendship is so underrated. It is so important to me that they’re besties. Thunders took part in all the party ambulance shenanigans people are spreading rumours about. He even instigated some of them, probably.

I am so into an amica foursome. Drift just wants to invite Rodimus into the bedroom, Ratchet assumes he’s telling him to invite Thunderclash, the two of them show up at their habsuite at the same time have a very awkward talk.

Ratchet and Thunderclash are absolutely sex pests, and when they team up on their pretty little speedsters it’s so over. Rodimus is fucked out first. He overloaded so many times he’s just panting heavily in a puddle of his own lubricant while Drift is getting bounced on two thick spikes….

I can’t imagine what could possibly go through Rodimus’ head when he finally recovers and looks up with clarity to see Ratchet and Thunderclash making out above him. I honestly think he bluescreens at that moment. His spike gets hard immediately so fast it makes a little sound popping out of his spike sheath.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you please do promot 10 and 12 with Sam wilson please?

.⋆｡The Cleansing Rain｡⋆.

Sam Wilson x plus size reader

The fight was bad, really bad but neither of you wanted to stop loving the other

Warnings: mentions of the snap, fighting, angst, implied ptsd

WC: 752

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

The fight had lasted for days and you both were exhausted. It had sparked over something insignificant that you couldn’t really give a shit about anymore and then blew up to the point where you and Sam were screaming in each other’s faces.

Sam felt you were pulling away from him, not as loving as you used to be. You returned back that he was dead for five years and you had to learn to live without him. 

You thought Sam was being entitled to your affections when he did nothing for you in return. He snapped that he had a job to do, he and Bucky had to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves.

But everything broke down when you wondered if the relationship was even worth saving. It was obvious that you had changed immensely since the blip while your partner was left behind to pick up the pieces of what used to be his life while still trying to be a hero.

“If you aren’t happy here then just fucking leave!” You screamed at him but really you were begging him not to go.

“You know what I think I will because I can’t stand this shit anymore.” But he was pleading to stay. 

“Go!” Tears burned behind your eyes but you refused to let them fall, refused to let him see how you were breaking all over again.

“Fine!” The front door slammed behind him, shaking the foundations of your home and your heart. You didn’t see the way his shoulders fell, he didn’t see how you crumbled.

He left without saying ‘I love you’. You let him go without saying ‘I love you’.

That was almost a week ago and you felt like you were dying. The house was too quiet, your bed too empty. Every time the old floorboards creaked, your head shot up, expecting to see Sam in the doorway, a bright smile on his face, his dark eyes sparkling. But he was never there. 

You kept the TV on constantly, too scared of the silence. So that’s how you heard about the storm. 

Sam hated storms, he always had. He’d always get scared when lightning struck and thunder rolled. The night he asked you to be his girlfriend was during a storm like the one about to hit Louisiana. He had burst into your home, eyes wide with fear and collapsed into your arms, his whole body trembling. You wrapped him up in the softest blanket you could find and distracted him with things from shitty puns to singing to him. And when the power finally gave out, he took you into his arms and asked you to be his.

As the skies darkened above the small ocean town, anxiety bubbled in your stomach. ‘Was Sam somewhere safe?’ ‘Who was looking out for him?’ ‘Did they know what to do if he had an attack?’

Before you could think, your shoes were on and you were out the door. There were only two places he would be- his sister’s or Bucky’s. The first drops of rain started to fall as you ran through the streets, gunning for Sarah’s house.

Your feet pounded against the pavement in time with the beating of your heart. The fog closed in around you as fat water droplets smacked you in the face, getting more intense by the second. 

Yet still you ran.

“Y/N!” The voice was distant, muffled but it was still the voice you needed to hear the most. 

“Sam!” His silhouette stood against the blur of the rain.

You collided together almost painfully but you didn’t care. His arms were around you again, you both were whole again. “Sam I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that you were being selfish.” He shook his head and squeezed your thick waist even tighter.

“I was being selfish. You were doing so much for me and I did nothing to help you.” You laughed sadly, your tears mixing with the rain. 

“Maybe we were both being dumb.” He laughed that laugh you loved so much and your chest warmed even though your clothes were now thoroughly soaked through with frigid water.

“Maybe we were.” Your arms wrapped around his neck and brought his lips closer to yours.

“Come home.” You whispered just above the din of the storm.

“I’m already home.” And as he kissed you in the freezing rain, all the pain was washed away, even if it was just for a little while.

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[castielspahdehrah]

Well, hell. Here we are, the last few hours of 2024 and I've been mainly silent this whole time.

I wanna apologize for that and explain a little

I came back here all excited to write and get involved in fandom again and as soon as I did, life/fate/the universe/whatever you wanna call it decided to bitchslap my ass back to the stone age.

After 4 years of being back on my feet and seriously kicking ass and taking names, I lost everything starting October 22nd.

After spending ALL of my savings to get caught up on medical bills from when I was in cardiac ICU back in April 2023, I was let go from my job due to absences WHILE having ADA (American Disability Act) Accommodations in place that actually didn't expire until today, 12-31-24. That paperwork was supposed to legally protect me from that exact thing, but it didn't. I don't know if I have a lawsuit. American employment laws are so damn shady and definitely not meant to protect the employee....

Since then I've been absolutely reeling mentally, emotionally, financially. Applying for all kinds of assistance to keep my house and my utilities on, to keep my cardiac medications refilled, to keep my car I just bought in July 2023.

I've applied to over 100 jobs since then and still have nothing to show for it....(I'm a licensed insurance adjuster for fuck sake, HOW have I not been hired somewhere yet?!?!?!)

I tried the whole Instacart/UberEats option and I shit you not, 3 days after I signed up, the back brakes went out on my car. My neighbor got those fixed for me for free....he did a thing....

Then, a week and a half ago, I was almost in a car accident that blew my brake lines because I was determined not to plow my car into a building because of the asshole in front of me that caused the clusterfuck, my car is still down and I probably won't be able to fix it this time.

And yesterday, "physical reeling" entered the chat when I went to the emergency room because my blood pressure was back up in stroke/heart attack range because I've been without those cardiac meds for a month.

Idk when I'll finally get another job. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep my utilities on. I don't know how much longer I'll have a roof over my head.

I don't eat, I don't sleep, I just.....exist.

Obviously, I still don't reach out to people like I should for support, as I've kept my mouth tightly shut. Bear the burden and suffer in silence, right Dean?

Anyways, all that aside, I thought it was the right thing to do, with it being the last day of this shit sandwich of a year, to come on here and at least say, "Hey, I'm alive, but REALLY goin' through it."

I'm not asking for anything, so don't worry there, but I do wanna say....

To those who have been thoroughly railed by 2024 without so much as some lube or a reach around? I get it and I'm there with you, but it can only get better from here right? Can't go deeper than rock bottom.

Here's to 2025, let's kick some ass y'all.

Love you guys and I'll see you next year.

[celestiall0tus]

Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 33 - Frozer

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            Alix grumbled as she put on a pair of ice skates. She glanced around at her classmates and plus some doing the same. They all excitedly chatted while she fumed. Chloe chatted with everyone before she sat down beside Alix.

            “You ready for this?”

            “Can I say no and still leave?” Alix asked.

            “Oh, come on. You can’t leave now. You already told Adrien you’d do this.”

            Alix mumbled and crossed her arms. She sank back in her seat as she regretted agreeing to this charade. Chloe rolled her eyes and saw to everyone else while Adrien sat beside her.

            “Hey, thank you again, for coming along. I know it’s not exactly your cup of tea, but I appreciate it still,” Adrien said.

            “Said after you begged me to come along despite my clear disdain for the very idea of all this.”

            “Oh, come on! It’s a little fun, right? Besides, Chloe’s in charge of this. Everything should be fine.

            “If she’s in charge, then she has the power to exclude Kagami, Lila, and Marinette.”

            “True, but I sorta asked her to not exclude Kagami and Lila. Marinette, well, I can’t explain that. Maybe they, and I mean Marinette’s friends, hope to help her?”

            “They have more faith in her than I ever could.”

          �� “You don’t have a lot of faith in anyone.”

            “Exactly, but those three particularly. I mean, fuck. Lila isn’t going to attend because of her whole ‘affair’ with Bloody Bug. Kagami is thoroughly brainwashed and conditioned. Marinette, well, at least she has people she can count on.”

            “Well, Sabrina did point out that we should give people second chances to be better, and that everyone has the potential to be better. So, I told Chloe to give them those chances. Oh! And I’ve also brought a special friend.”

            “Oh? Who would that be?”

            Adrien turned as Felix took a seat next to him.

            “Alix,” Felix said.

            “Felix. Been a while,” Alix remarked.

            “Yes, well, get used to it.”

            Alix hummed when Chloe blew her whistle, getting everyone’s attention. “Thank you all for meeting me here. As you all know, I’m hosting a Valentine’s dance for couples, and polycules, this Valentine’s Day. You’re all here because you losers need some help, so here I am to play your cupid. Now, let’s begin! I want to see you guys pair off and hit the ice. Any left behind will be matched based on my expert opinion.”

            Everyone exchanged glances before people paired off. Nino and Alya, Juleka and Rose, and Mylene and Ivan were amongst the first. Luka and Marinette were pulled out onto the ice alongside them.

            Alix tsked. “I don’t envy Luka, but good on him.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Huh? Oh, he has a crush on Marinette.”

            “He does? I thought he had a crush on you?”

            “I guess he has one on each of us. In all honesty, I’d rather he just be interested in Marinette. Being with me could be… messy.”

            “I don’t think he minds who you are, Alix.”

            “It’s not that. It’s just, well, I’m aromantic. At least, that’s what Juleka and Rose said it’s called. And I agree with them.”

            “I’m sorry, but that’s this ‘aromantic’ thing you bring up?” Felix asked.

            “It just means that I don’t experience romantic attraction. From what I’ve gathered on my own, there are many different types of aromantics. I’m still not completely sure where I fall, I just know that I don’t care for romance, don’t understand it’s finer points, but also do want companionship.”

            Felix and Adrien exchanged glances before Kagami arrived. Kagami glared down at Alix, before she looked at Adrien. Alix snarled until she noticed Felix’s wide, enchanted eyes that were fixated on Kagami.

            “Let’s go, Adrien,” Kagami ordered.

            “Ah, well, you see, I-,” Adrien started.

            Felix stood up. “Please, I beseech you, skate with me instead.”

            Kagami’s brow furrowed as she took a step back. “Excuse me?”

            “Your ebony hair that illuminates with shades of blue is reminiscent of the night sky under a full moon in its silver, resplendent glory. The freckles that adorn your beautiful skin are like stars painted on the night canvas. And your eyes are like a low, inviting fire out of the silvery mist of darkness. They call out like a siren sings to her victims, beckoning all who dare gaze upon you in until they are ensnared by your ferocity. You are the night and the moon personified. Please allow me to be your Sun.”

            Adrien’s eyes sparkled at Felix’s poetry while Alix made gagging noises. A slight blush formed on Kagami’s cheeks before it vanished.

            “Fine, but just this once.”

            Felix beamed as Kagami led him onto the ice.

            “That was beautiful,” Adrien whispered.

            “That was sickening,” Alix retorted.

            “What? But-!”

            “Uh, Adrien?” Sabrina interrupted.

            Alix and Adrien turned to look at Sabrina.

            “Hey, Rin. What’s up?”

            Alix raised a brow when she saw Sabrina blush.

            “You… you wouldn’t mind if we skated, would you?”

            Adrien lit up. “I’d love to!”

            Alix watched Adrien head onto the ice with Sabrina. Alix smiled, happy for him, but that happiness was soured by a gnawing envy. She frowned as she looked around to see nearly everyone had hit the ice save for her, Kim, and Chloe. Chloe turned towards her when Kim moved in and stole her away towards the ice.

            Alix watched everyone skate around the rink. She sighed as loneliness ate away at her and tore her apart. She took off her skates, returned them to the front desk, and left. She headed away from the building as Tikki and Ziggy poked her back. She grumbled as she put in an earbud, flashed her phone, and put it in her hoodie pocket.

            “What do you want?” Alix asked.

            “What’s wrong? You seemed happy, but then you weren’t,” Tikki pointed out.

            “It’s nothing. I just… I didn’t want to be that freak that’s always alone while everyone has fun. That’s all.”

            “Well, why not join the skating anyway? Who says you need to have a partner?” Ziggy asked.

            “That’s not how it works. Besides, I… I don’t know. It may not be bad to have someone as a companion. Not that I’ll ever have that.”

            “Why not?” Tikki pressed.

            “Yeah, why not? You seem to have plenty of options available,” Ziggy added.

            “It’s… it’s not like that. I can’t go to any of them. I don’t… I don’t want to give them false hope or lead them on, or whatever.”

            “What do you mean?” Ziggy asked.

            “I… I don’t know. I just… a lot of things are changing. I’m starting to, I dunno, want things I never did before.”

            “Like wanting a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Tikki asked.

            “Please, don’t use those terms. They make me feel… icky. Use companion. It feels… better.”

            “Ok. So, does this include wanting a companion?”

            “I… I think so.”

            “But don’t you have a lot of companions already?” Ziggy asked.

            “I have friends, and I love them dearly, but I also want a little something more. I want someone who’d accept me, all of me.”

            “I don’t understand. Don’t you have that already? I mean, you have Adrien, Rose, Mylene, Ivan, and so many others. Are they not enough?” Tikki questioned.

            “Not… not like them. They’re friends, but I don’t want them. They accept all of me that they can, but I want something that will accept all of me. Do you understand?”

            Tikki hummed and shook her head.

            Ziggy considered, then gasped. “Oh! I think I do! Don’t worry, Alix. They’re called hormones. They’ll pass in time.”

            Alix pinched the bridge of her nose. She opened her mouth when a scream tore through the air. She turned around to see everything was covered in ice. Her heart dropped seeing the people caught in it turned into ice statues. She ducked into an alleyway, transformed into Bloody Bug, and took to the rooftops. She hovered above the ground with her skates as she surveyed the area. The entire city had been transformed into an icy wonderland with everything turned to ice. She jumped down from the roof when a blur ran past her. She lost her balance but regained it as she faced against an ice-skating villain.

            “Who are you? What do you want?”

            “I am Frozer and I’m here to ice over your world.”

            Bloody Bug pulled out her yo-yo and braced herself as Frozer advanced. She dodged his attack and threw her yo-yo at him. He slapped away the yo-yo when a lasso ensnared him. She furrowed her brow as he was lifted off the ground and dangled from the rooftop.

            Bloody Bug looked past him at a girl dressed up in a deep gray-brown cowgirl ensemble with a white shirt with an eagle on it, yellow face bandana that covered only her mouth, white, messy short hair, and yellow cowgirl boots. The cowgirl tied off Frozer and jumped down. The cowgirl tipped her hat to Bloody Bug.

            “Howdy, pardner. Name’s Outlaw. I reckon your that famous red bug I’ve been hearing all ‘bout,” Outlaw said in English with an American, southern voice.

            Bloody Bug’s face scrunched up in confusion. She opened her mouth, shut it, and held up a finger for Outlaw to wait. She moved over to Frozer, inspected him, before she destroyed his ice skates, and released the Akuma. She caught it, purified it, and released it. The ice that covered Paris evaporated as Frozer reverted to Philippe, the figure skating trainer at the ice rink she was at earlier.

            “What happened? Where am I? Why am I tied up?” Philippe asked.

            “You were akumatized. What happened?” Bloody Bug asked.

            “Huh? Oh, right! Andre Bourgeois was going to shut down my ice rink to build a gym for his wife, Audrey Bourgeois. The only way I could stop him was if I got someone to sign up for my lessons. And, as luck would have it, there were a whole selection of people to ask, but no one wanted to sign up.”

            Bloody Bug opened her mouth when she heard Outlaw grumble in English about Audrey Bourgeois and the horrible person she was. She pursed her lips then shook her head before she let Philippe down.

            “Head back to the rink, Philippe. I know someone there who might be able to turn things around for you.”

            “Really? Who?” Philippe asked.

            “Can’t ruin the surprise now. Hurry back.”

            Philippe nodded and headed off. Bloody Bug sighed and turned to Outlaw.

            “Thanks for the assist, Outlaw. Always happy to see others rise to the call of action,” Bloody Bug said in English.

            Outlaw stared blankly at Bloody Bug before her eyes widened. “Wait, you actually speak English? Hell yeah! What did you think? Was I heroic enough?”

            “You were amazing. I hope to see more of your heroics, Outlaw.”

            Outlaw bounced around happily. “Hell yeah! I don’t get to do shit like this back home. Granted, the ‘real’ heroes take on the baddies. So, I give them a little trouble before I help. I know they hate me, but they also love me.”

            “Well, you’re welcome to help as much as you please while you’re here.”

            Outlaw whooped and hollered. “You bet I will! This was too much fun not to.”

            “I’m glad. As for now, I have to get going. I need to see to something else.”

            “Ditto. Later, Bug!”

            Bloody Bug and Outlaw parted ways. Bloody Bug headed back to the ice rink, de-transformed, and grabbed a pair of ice skates again. She slipped back into the rink and put on the skates while everyone else checked on each other. She glanced up as Adrien noticed her and started towards her when Philippe returned.

            Alix took a deep breath and headed for the rink’s entrance. Chloe, Rose, Adrien, and Luka rushed to check on her. She ignored their fussing and held out her hand. They all stopped and exchanged confused glances.

            “Look, I’m helping someone out. I need a partner for a demonstration, the rink cleared, and as many people to record this as possible. So, who wants to suffer my company for this?”

            Chloe, Rose, Adrien, and Luka exchanged glances before they each reached to grab Alix’s hand. Adrien got to Alix’s hand first and she held it fast. She guided him to the middle of the rink while everyone else emptied it and sat on the sidelines to watch. She ignored everyone else and searched for Philippe, who stood near the exit and watched with bated breath.

            “So, what’s really going on?” Adrien whispered.

            “That man was akumatized. The mayor threatened to take away the ice rink if he couldn’t get someone to sign up for his classes. When he couldn’t, well, you know.”

            “Oh! I get it. So, we’re putting on a demonstration to get people to sign up, right? But how are we going to do that when we aren’t figure skaters?”

            Alix grinned and led Adrien around the rink. She gave herself a couple warmup laps to readjust and refamiliarize herself. She took a deep breath and led Adrien through a basic couple figure skating routine with simple twists, spins, and lifts.

            “Woah, Alix, I didn’t realize you knew how to skate like this. I mean, I knew you could skate, but isn’t ice skating something entirely different?” Adrien asked.

            “It is, but I had the best coach. My mom.”

            “Wait, really?”

            “Yeah. She’s a big reason I started skating, and why I stopped ice skating.”

            “What happened?”

            Alix took a deep breath. “We used to come to this rink and she’d just skate. I often watched her skate her worries and problems away. I watched the ice listen to her unspoken words and everything melted away. I loved seeing it all vanish and the moment she became one with the ice. She was incredible.”

            Adrien giggled. “I see why you always tend to skate when you’re angry or bothered.”

            “Yeah, I guess so. But I took more to roller skating than ice skating, but I still learned for her. For that chance to experience what she did on the ice. To move as she did, let everything fade away, and for there to nothing except you and the ice. I admit, I have that with roller skating. But being back on the ice, something feels… different. Bittersweet.”

            “Well, why did you stop ice skating?”

            “When her health started to decline, and she couldn’t skate. I kept it up because I loved doing it and she loved to watch me. She got Philippe to keep my lessons, but we stopped that because it wasn’t the same for me. It wasn’t her that was teaching me. When her health plummeted and she could go anywhere, I stopped ice skating and just stuck with roller skating.”

            “Did you miss this?”

            Alix considered. She blocked out the murmurs that buzzed in the rink and focused on everything else. The silence filled with the scraping of skates on ice, the chill that rushed around her but never got to her, and the serenity and peace she felt rising within her being on skates. Tears fell from her eyes.

            “I did. I really did. I loved this, but I let her death stop me.”

            Adrien squeezed Alix’s hand. “It wasn’t her death. You were just grieving, Alix. She meant the world to you, and she still does. But I think the greatest way you can honor her memory is to reclaim what you loved. Starting with this. Show me the bliss of the ice you both shared.”

            Adrien let go of Alix and skated to the entrance of the rink. He gave her a thumbs up while he remained on the ice. She took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. Silence fell over her audience as they waited for her.

            “Tikki, Ziggy, get in the hoodie pocket,” Alix murmured.

            Alix felt Tikki and Ziggy move through her into the pocket. She shook off the sensation as she tore off her hoodie. She shuddered at the cold that nipped and wrapped around her bare arms and right shoulder. She took a step, then another as she skated up to Adrien and tossed him her hoodie and cap. They shared a look and a nod before she turned back to the rink.

            Alix took a deep breath as she skated forward. She started with simple spins and jumps before she took off around the rink like she was in a roller rink. She felt the rush of the cold as she raced around that ebbed away as she moved into elegant twirls and risky jumps. The cold disappeared and she closed her eyes, losing herself to the world she lost once again.

            Alix felt a peace she hadn’t felt since her mother fell ill. A peace that she couldn’t achieve with her roller skating, which only eased her anger. Here on the ice, there was stillness. She found the ice listened to her and melted away her problems, just as it did for her mother. She smiled and let the tears flow as she gave herself to the ice.

            Adrien watched in awe with everyone else as Alix put on an amazing display of figure skating. He saw a few people rush to Philippe to sign up for classes with Chloe amongst them. He was happy it worked, but he was happier for Alix. She felt calmer, happier, at ease. Even as he saw her cry, he wasn’t worried. She was at peace.

            Alix brought her skating to an end and rejoined Adrien by the entrance. She stood still until she hugged him. He returned the hug and held her close.

            “You were amazing, sis.”

            “Thanks, bro. That felt… that felt great.”

            “Wanna ditch and get ice cream?”

            Alix snorted and laughed. “Alright, let’s go.”

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