#I am so so curious to find out what THAT is about

[tvobsessivefanatic]

DP X DC Prompt : Dan's Rage Room

Dan Phantom is a ghost who could represent Rage, heck, he destroyed his whole Dimension because of it. So according to Clockwork, He needed a Rage room. So he found one, and... Let's say he got a little bit attached and too invested into the said Rage Room.

Follow Dan through his adventures inside a new dimension, a dimension he could and is allowed to mess with to his own satisfaction, and also a dimension where he could start anew and learn about or maybe just chill around. Which one would he choose?

Who am I kidding? Of course it's not the latter, Dan was given a dimension all to himself, of course he was going to use it as his rage room. And plus, teaching these heroes a lesson is just a bonus, Dan himself is a retired teenage hero who has been through hell, and these heroes were still lacking in many aspects, so he concluded that they needed to be thought a lesson or two.

Don't mind him, it's his method of dealing with his unresolved trauma! Plus, it's not like he was planning to be some big shot or anything, he's just gonna be your typical Rogue gallery! Robbing Banks, stealing important schtick, having big bad plans, taking hostage, and so on.

Well, that is what he was planning before doing his research about the Dimension and finding out about Bruce Wayne, this Dimension's version of Danny Fenton, his younger self, which made himself curious and search for this Dimension's version of Vladimir Plasmius, and it was clears that it is none other than Ra's Al-Ghul.

To them, Dan would look incredibly identical to Bruce Wayne and Ra's Al-Ghul in the same time, and that fact alone would be incredibly useful. Clones in this dimension has happened before, and Dan happened to look terrifyingly identical to two individuals who are against eachother, which would give an interesting reaction for once he reveals his face.

As for his Villain costume? He's going for a classic all black super suit with a mask, only revealing his eyes, one who knows Bruce Wayne would recognize the cold gaze, but would be reminded of the same Lazarus green present on Ra's Al-Ghul eyes.

With this new setting, Dan figured it would be more interesting if he laid low, forcefully showing himself once in a while and only going into silent mischief at night, he even went around as a Civilian a few more times.

He wanted drama, misunderstanding, shock, and quite a lot of chaos.

[I feel like I've seen a fanfic/prompt that's similar to this, so I'm sorry if this seems like I copied it]

[fairestwriting]

RAHHHH, I LOVR YOUR WRITING!!!!

Can I kindly request for Leona, Jade, and Idia with a Hyper! Reader?

Like, Reader is up for everything and anything and is always either preparing for shenanigans or doing them.

ah yes. the trio i am definitely not biased towards when it comes to writing stuff (TYSM im glad you like it!!! i hope you enjoy this too <33

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s a good thing that you’re so lively, you can just have energy for the two of you, is the sort of thing you’ll hear from him a lot. Always seasoned with his signature snarky feeling, sometimes he’s more exasperated, and other times, he can actually sound quite fond and sweet.

The “Herbivore” nickname isn’t going away anytime soon, that’s for sure. It’s more than just a little jab at how non threatening you come off— You honestly kind of remind him of a rabbit. If you ask him to elaborate he says it’s because you’re “always hopping around and sticking your nose into other people’s business”. If you ask him for further explanation he says you’re just proving his point by being too curious.

To anyone who knows how to read him, it becomes quite visible that he’s really very unsuccessful at concealing how endearing he thinks your antics are. He’ll never miss an opportunity to tell you he’s absolutely not going to join you on whatever you’re up to that day, and yet… he’s always there to say these exact words.

You might manage to convince him to take you out on some fun dates, things like going to amusement parks or arcades. He actually really enjoys it, despite always playing up that unamused, grumpy act. Most of the time he’ll just stand on the sidelines and watch while you have your fun, but it’s not that hard to bait him into following you to the roller coaster. At the end of the day, he tells you he hopes you’re satisfied because he won’t be indulging you again too soon— Something you can easily prove wrong in about a week or so.

𐙚 Jade Leech

He’s always not-so-secretly overjoyed to hear about any new troublemaker type that might pop up into Azul’s radar. These people are always the most interesting to observe, after all. So even before you two actually spoke, you’ve been keeping him more than engaged.

Jade has no desire to actively cause anything that might count as mischief… or at least that’s what he says. It’s not a full blown lie, but the key word here really is “actively” — Any antics of yours that he can support will be supported. Whether by conveniently making others too intimidated to get in your way, or sharing little hints of possible interesting things to do around school. It takes him some time to start actually tagging along, even if it’s just to stand around and watch you having your fun, but when he starts to do it, he’s pretty much become your new henchman.

While he mostly keeps to himself, if you show any interest in going on hikes with him, or learning about mushrooms and such, you’ll find that he can match your energy level quite easily. Jade is actually a bit surprised at your enthusiasm when it comes to that, he’s always wondered how it’d be like to explore the woods with a partner. Very quick to make new hiking plans, even quicker to think of multiple creative ways to use up whatever you picked while out.

He finds himself smiling and laughing a lot when he’s by your side. Of course, he already does both often in general, but it’s different when he’s with you. You always have some new, interesting topic to talk about, paired with a remarkable skill to find entertaining points about seemingly anything, it’s really contagious to him.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Thinks it’s a miracle someone like you ever became interested in him. Shouldn’t a pessimistic, anxious introvert just come off as boring to someone who’s so bright and active? For a good while, Idia just couldn’t understand how you’d even fit him into your world. You two are just so different—

He would’ve probably rejected you out of sheer hopelessness if it wasn’t for the fact that… pairing a cheerful character with a gloomy one is, in fact, a pretty popular romance trope in anime. A part of him, sort of shyly and almost guiltily, hoped that he would get to have that in real life one day.

The fact you’re even open to indulging his interests definitely helps to bring you two closer. He was so anxious about showing you anything he liked, even if it was some popular game everyone in school is talking about, it’s just too nerdy for someone like you, isn’t it? Sometimes he’s still comically surprised whenever you mention liking a game or something like that. But he can get over his nervousness pretty quickly when you suggest playing together, even if it’s just on call.

When you’re messing with other people, he likes watching it from afar. Texts asking for updates on how your latest plans are going. If he can, he’ll even bail you out of trouble, it’s not like it’s that hard to make one of the school cameras just stop working for a little bit… And he really likes your reactions to him doing things like that, the way you praise his skills with so much enthusiasm. It really makes him feel like he’s won in life, honestly.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[raestromboli]

  𝐸𝒩𝒟𝐿𝐸𝒮𝒮𝐿𝒴.

plug!chris x f!reader. ♡⁩

𓂃 ‘ . . . AITA for leaving out my edibles resulting in my current situationship [M21] getting baked af for 24 hrs? ‘

꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ not proofread, 18+, f!reader, smut, vulgar language, pet name usage, drug usage, recording, y’all are lowk toxic, sex under the influence, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cheating ??, mdni.

you’re freshly showered. you spent an half hour shaving your whole body and you even used your expensive lotion and oils just to fully enjoy the wonderful night you planned to have.

no chris equals no loud, muffled yelling from his angry customers on the phone, no smelly socks laying around the couch he’s stuck sleeping on, and you finally get to walk into your living room without it being hotboxed.

that caused for a celebration, so you baked brownie edibles! even though you accidentally doubled the recipe for weed butter, you weren’t about to let good product go to waste. especially when the shit chris sold to you was always weak.

just for the hell of it, you’ve already indulged in a brownie and the effects were already starting to hit.

you can smell the remnants of the sweet smelling brownie and the pungent weed wafting throughout your apartment as you walk down the hall and into the living room, but the closer you get, your nose gets infiltrated with the familiar, nauseating scent of cologne. fuck, is chris home already?

you don’t even spare a glance toward the kitchen—you make your way to round the couch and you find yours truly; chris, lazily spread out with his body melted into the soft cushions. his legs are spread out wide, so you get a clear shot of the gigantic bulge protruding over those black jeans he wears religiously—that’s definitely not the point, though.

his arms are hanging over the cushions and he blankly stares right across from him. you momentarily follow his gaze and find it at the corner of your floor. it’s then that you notice the soft smile on his face that seems to not rid and his eyes are so low that he looks like he’s squinting.

okay, this isn’t the first time he’s come home high. don’t freak out.

yet, you still nervously move your gaze over to your kitchen where your brownies were supposed to lay on a plate—but all you find are crumbs.

it takes everything in you to not directly pounce on chris, but he’s high—like really high. there’s about 100 mg of weed in his system and surprisingly, he’s chilling.

you sigh through your nose, rolling your eyes at how calm he looked right now, “chris.”

his head lulls against the couch cushion to look at you and the faint sound of his curious ‘hm?’ echoes through the silent apartment. it’s like his eyes had to manually focus on you; blinking owlishly for a second before his lips bloom into a smile.

he sings your name as his smile grows wider and you catch the way his hips shift around, almost as if he was trying to find relief for the predicament in his pants, “missed you s’much, kid.” chris grumbles in a soft voice.

“don’t play that shit with me, chris. i swear to god . .” you groan, shutting your eyes and rolling them.

chris pouts at your attitude, his face distorting into something more serious like he was sobering up, “fuck did i do, now? cops here?” and then he’s sitting up—not without a fight with his sluggish body—and starts whipping his head toward the front door.

“you fuckin’ fatass. no one’s here.”

“yo, don’t call me a fa-“

“i am gonna call you a fatass because you ate all my brownies!”

he stares up at you in bewilderment, eyes wide and mouth agape, “wha-what brownies? are you the fuckin’ pillsbury doughboy now—since when does your ass even bake?!”

you smooth your hands over your face as an attempt to calm yourself down, “chris,” you start, “do you even know how you’re high right now?”

he hums as he thinks about it, lips pursing and eyes squinting before he smiles at you, “i smoked a joint with matt—shit was crazy, i almost ate everything in his damn fridge, like, right after.” he giggles to himself.

“. . holy shit, you’re literally the definition of gluttony.”

“shut the fuck up. it was just the munchies—“

“you have, like, more than a hundred milligrams of weed in you, chris.” you try to reason with him—calmly—but he has that dumb look on his face and it makes your anger spike a bit.

he frowns, “fuck are you even talking ‘bout?”

“those brownies were edibles, dumbass.”

chris takes a moment to really sink that in. he’s got enough weed in him to get an elephant high, and the sight of you mad at him with your skin glowing from that lotion he loves to smell on you is making him rock hard—but there’s also anger boiling in his blood.

“andddddd, you decided to not fuckin’ tell me? those brownies were jus’ sitting on a plate and you expected me to, what?—not take a fuckin’ bite?”

you can’t believe him right now, “are you fo—you’re blaming me?”

“yeah, ‘cause it’s your fuckin’ fault, dickhead. i feel like a elephant is layin’ on my lap, can’t even move.” chris huffs dramatically.

to be fair, you only cut slack on chris just a bit because you knew he was going to high for a long time, and it’d come in waves since they were edibles—but jesus, there was no way he downed all those brownies within your shower period . .

even though your high was beyond ruined, the sight of chris’ lap looked so inviting. his legs are still spread apart, and the boner poking out of his pants hasn’t gone down.

“y’er a slut, y’know that? holy fuck—“

yeah, you just got caught red handed.

you sputter, eyes finally peeling off from in between his legs to stare up at chris in bewilderment, “me? a slut? bitch, for all i know, you’re probably going out to fuck your hoes ‘cause i won’t let you fuck me.”

“fuck off, weirdo,” he sneers, “and my, uhm . . i dropped all of ‘em.”

“boy, you know they all left your ass ‘cause they didn’t wanna fuck with a felon.”

that left chris silenced, face turning stern as he sighs exasperatedly and slumps further into the couch. his eyes drew closed while his head fell onto the soft cushions. for a second, you’d grown worried—but chris can fend for himself. you’ve ought to kick him out if he doesn’t start paying rent anytime soon, anyways.

“are you gonna be fine out here? want some . . water?”

he rolls his eyes, “nah, ‘m gonna jerk off out here for a lil’ bit,” he turns to you and grins innocently, “watch or not, i don’t give a fuck.”

you swore to chris—and yourself that you were not going to give in to him again. he’s gotten you into so much trouble, with cops and paying customers, and you can’t let him know you forgive him. so all you do is nod and walk off to your room.

that doesn’t mean you can’t think about him.

chris looked real fucking good, too. he had finally got rid of that one disgusting cap he keeps wearing on his head to showcase his hair that you liked to tug on when his head was shoved in between your thighs, and he wore that one hoodie you remember wiping his cum off your thigh with. it’s honestly a little gross, but you’re so deprived off of chris that you think it’s hot.

resting your head onto your pillow, you decide to scroll through your phone and giggle at random videos. that was always your favorite way pass time your high. though, when you start scrolling on instagram for a quick second, you get a text from chris. he’s so needy—you think, yet you open it.

it’s a video recorded for two minutes, and he put invisible ink over the attachment.

you tap on it until the virtual particles disappear, and you’re left with the image of chris’ smiley face, the dim kitchen light illuminating over his face. you know he’s just made the video from how his eyes are even lower than they were from when you last saw him, and he’s got that little cut on his lip from when one of his customers finally had enough of him scamming him in plain sight.

it’s suspicious, but you still click on the video.

the video starts off with, of course, chris smiling innocently, but then the camera pans around to showcase his lap. the more you stare, you come to find that you could see the clear outline of his dick. fuck, you always forget how big he is.

“fuckin’ piss me off,” he grumbles low enough just for you to hear as his large hand comes in view, cupping his bulge and hissing sharply, “i feel s’fuckin’ helpless ‘cause i can’t fuck you. ‘s all your fault.” he slurs.

your thighs immediately tighten as chris shamelessly babbles to you, slick dampening your panties from his whiny voice. all you can hear are the slow, staggered breathing and the deafening sound of a belt unbuckling. you watch as the camera shakes a bit and goes out of focus before it pans back to his cock in his hand. of course he went fucking commando.

“fuck,” chris gasps as he starts stroking himself in slow, languid motions. the pre cum that leaks from his swollen tip and down to the base had helped to create a low squelching sound each pump of his fist he takes, which only made you wetter. a few seconds go by of him fucking his fist and groaning your name while bad mouthing you at the same time before the suddenly video ends, leaving you on a cliffhanger.

ugh—no fair, you wanted to see him cum!

you’re left with your lips parted in both shock and arousal, and your panties soaked through. man, fuck this. you’re horny and still very high, and you really want some dick. jumping off the bed, you beeline toward your door in a furious stupor and fling it open. and surprisingly, you find that chris stands on the other side, cheeks red and lips pouty as he stares down at you.

“. . .chris?”

and then he’s kissing you, both hands digging into your waist as he quietly simpers into your mouth. chris pushes his body closer to yours until he’s guiding you backwards and the back of your knees hit the bed, and you can feel the large bulge tucked beneath his jeans digging into your bare thigh.

“mph—c-chri-“ you squeal against his swollen lips, a hand flying up to grip his bicep.

“shut the fuck up.” chris grumbles back before he attacks your lips with his once again. he uses his body weight and the sluggishness of his bones as an advantage to push you down onto the bed, sloppily maneuvering you to have your head resting on the plethora of pillows and plushies he had won you in one of those rigged carnival games one time—a time where he wasn’t acting like a bum and hiding from the feds in your apartment.

he’s kissing you so hard you think he’s making bruises on your lips. and you also think he couldn’t get more animalistic, but the way one of his hands hurriedly travel south to sneak its way under your tank top to cup your bare tit tells you otherwise. his thumbs grazes over your nipple and he smirks against your lips when you whine lowly.

you almost give up entirely like you intended to, but the stubbornness in you is telling you the exact opposite. your legs come up to wrap themselves around chris’ waist, the material of his hoodie riding up and exposing his back. with the amount of strength you muster up with the boy practically making you jelly, you managed to maneuver him into your position. he stares at you in slight bewilderment as you straddle him, pulling your lips off of his by pushing on his chest.

“the fuck you think y’er doin’, huh?” chris voice is staggered and quite slurred. low and red tinted eyes bore into you as you pant, licking the shared saliva off your lips as you look back at him with similar jaded eyes.

you huff with a whine, “you’re not gonna win, chris.” your voice betrays on you, suddenly coming out lower than you intended to and more meek.

he sighs rather loudly while his eyes flicker to your soft, plush thighs caging his waist in, “‘s all good. i’ll let you win,” he smirks a bit as his hands come up to grip onto the fat of your thighs, vision trailing up to you in a languid pace, “just make me cum, a’ight?”

and honestly, you’re in too deep. your panties are beyond soaked, the rough denim of chris’ jeans feels too good on your bare skin, and the thc intoxicating your mind is making you incredibly needy for the boy before you.

so, you nod, leaning down until your breasts squish against his chest and connecting your lips to his. chris heavily sighs into your mouth while one hand reaches down to grab fat globes of your ass cheek, the other coming up to pinch your chin so he could slip his tongue into your mouth.

sneakily, the hand that was on your ass begins to hook around the drenched cotton of your panties, pulling them to the side so he could feel how wet he made you.

your breath staggers heavily while chris begins to get two heavy fingers sticky with your slick, rubbing them up and down your puffy folds in a slow pace. and he doesn’t let you pull away from his lips, not even when he starts massaging your clit enough to make you whimper against him.

chris oh so desperately wishes he could get a 4k shot of your sweet pussy he’s been missing, but having you flush against him with your saccharine scent invading his nostrils made up for it. and the fact that you were even letting him touch you—it was his lucky day.

your pussy feels extra sensitive now that you’re all high and lax, but also you have chris touching you. you can feel how your hole constantly leaks and he couldn’t be more eager to spread it around your sticky clit and flick his wrist faster.

all you can do is wither helplessly and moan into his mouth. you hate how good he is with his fingers, especially when you reluctantly have to pull away from his plump lips to let some air back into your lungs. your two hands plant to the bed on either side of chris’ head to stabilize yourself and you catch him just staring up at you.

“what?” you breathe out with a whine.

he slowly smirks, “jus’ missed you.” and then he’s lining two fingers up to your hole, his lips blooming into a full smile as he watches you gasp and squeal. chris’ patience completely runs thin when his slender fingers bottom out, and all he can feel is your slick coating them.

so, all he does is roll you over onto your back, despite you frantically clinging onto him like you were going to fall on your ass, and continues to massage your gummy walls.

all it takes is one glance down at your wet cunt, all glossy and pretty around his digits just as he remembers, to lose all his composure. chris grunts loudly while his fingers begrudgingly slides out of your tight hole, glancing up to find you already pouting up at him.

“gotta fuck this pussy, baby. don’t give a fuck what you say.” he says, in a hurry to stick his shiny fingers in his mouth.

if you weren’t just as needy to have him dick you down until you couldn’t remember the alphabet, you would’ve laughed in his damn face at his sheer desperation when he manhandles you onto your hands and knees, ass perked up high. you barely hear the comical rip! of your panties as chris tears the flimsy cotton off your body and throws it over his shoulder.

in a daze, you glance over your shoulder to watch in utter amazement as chris sits up on his knees to grip onto the hem of his hoodie and hold it in place with his teeth and reach down to unzip his jeans. he pulls the denim off his waist just enough for his leaking cock to spring out, hitting his belly button and creating a wet plap! sound.

chris hisses under his breath as he wraps the hand that was plowing into your pussy around his sensitive cock. he uses his free hand to harshly grip onto the fat of your ass so he could place his length right onto your puffy cunt, hissing sharply when he starts tapping his pink tip across your hole and your nub.

“chrisss,” you huff meekly, staring up at him with furrowed brows, glossy red eyes, and a pout, “put it in.”

he hums as he mumbles over the thick cotton, “got you beggin’ now, huh?” he damn near chuckles when your face contorts into sudden offense, beginning to raise yourself on your elbows to create an argument before you feel his thick tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s then that you melt back onto the bed, whimpering openmouthedly as you shove your face into your pillow. you don’t know what to focus on—chris’ cock splitting you open, his large hands splayed all across your body—either way, you do know that you want him to fuck you.

you lift your head off the cushiony pillow to whine nasally just as your gummy walls begin to tightly hug his tip. just as chris always does, he enters you painfully slow, so that you could feel every inch of him stretching you out. it always makes your eyes water and your hips buck back into his, just plain inpatient that he’s taking his sweet ol’ time with you.

“missed this pussy.” chris whines to himself as he bottoms out, eyes trained down on your wet cunt swallowing up every inch of his cock. your mouth just hangs open; you’ve grown to forget how much he’s packing that feeling him prodding your cervix makes you absolutely dumb.

he doesn’t give you any time to even breathe before he’s retracting his hips back and thrusting forward with a guttural grunt, blue eyes trailing down to your arched figure when he hears you mumble something.

a sinister smirk curls on chris’ lips as he opts to hold onto his hoodie, so he could lean down until his clad chest was flush to your back. a wide hand snaking over your throat to squeeze at your pulse point, and it makes you turn your head to look back at him.

“you say somethin’?”

your pussy flutters when chris’ cock repeatedly hits your g-spot, making you choke on whatever you planned to have said.

“c’mon, use ‘em words.”

you can’t help but whine pathetically at the pet name, “i-it’s too much.”

chris can’t help but rise back up, mounting a hand on your waist before pulling out. and you can’t even protest—just waiting for his next move patiently. he rubs his slippery tip against your glistening folds with a hiss, “it’s too much?” he asks.

a small ‘mhm’ exits through your lips as you unconsciously rock your hips. the emptiness of your cunt doesn’t last long when he decides to nudge his cock back into you, sliding in even slower than before just so he could relish in your pretty moans.

“yeah, i really don’t give a fuck.” chris deadpans low enough just for you to hear. he doesn’t care about how your hand reaches to grip onto his wrist as you gasp, instead he just starts plowing into you—no mercy given.

you always felt bad for your downstairs neighbors whenever you and chris fucked, but this time you have to bake some cookies or something.

a satisfied grin grows on his face when he catches the way you fuck yourself back into him, ass clapping against his pelvis. damn, he missed that.

chris has felt like a wild animal ever since he started crashing at your place. when he showed up at your door, the last thing he expected was to be held off of sex from you. one day when he was just looking at himself through the bathroom mirror, his right bicep was far more toned than his left.

and he’s guilty for that—it’s just that a man has his needs! whenever you’re out, he’d sneak into your room to grab ahold of one your perfumes and bring it up to his nose while he stroked himself off, all while laying in your bed with your scent hugging him.

so, to finally be inside of you after so long, chris tries to hold off . . to savor this moment, but your pussy betrays him. you’re so wet, and you’re already clenching around him while squealing his name.

he lets out breathy chuckles while he continues to pump himself in you, eyes locked down on the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, “you gonna cum? already?”

“shut the fuck up.” you huff with a whine. yet, he’s right. your entire body feels like a cloud, and your mind is fuzzy. all you think of is chris and that fucking pipe on him. your stomach clenches as you feel your orgasm approaching full speed, and neither you or chris get any warning before you cum . . . hard.

your pussy tightens and pulses around his dick as it gets coated with your cum. it doesn’t take much long for him to follow up behind you, whimpering under his breath as he forfeits the hold on his hoodie to grip onto the fat of your ass cheeks, thrusting into you deeper.

“shiiiit, gonna fuckin’ cum.” he grunts to himself. chris’ vision turns white as his stomach caves in, full on moaning out loud while he fills your cunt up with his cum.

you stay pliant in his hold while you both take a few seconds to come up from your high, fingertips digging into your hips as he slowly pulls out. his lips are parted in awe as his cum starts dripping out your hole.

chris leans forward, his arm sliding under the space of your arched body to scoop you up with his bicep curled around your neck. it’s an uncomfortable position with you on your knees and your back completely flush against his chest, but a kiss planted on your cheek makes up for it.

“you ‘aight?” chris mumbles against your ear, a large palm splayed just under your chest.

you paw at the bicep wrapped around your neck, “missed you.” is all you say, sparing a glance at the boy when suddenly he attacks you with a searing kiss. this is what you missed, and you wish it could be like that forever.

chris ordered you food as aftercare and he even opted to stay in bed with you. you had changed your clothes, freshened up—even took another shower, but somehow he was still wearing that fuckass hoodie.

you glance up at him, studying his side profile before you speak up, “why do you still have that hoodie on, chris?”

he pauses, his adams apple bobbing as he momentarily licks his lips, “jus’ cold.”

but you know better than that, and besides, chris is the worst liar ever. your brows raise as you lift yourself off the bed, a pretend smirk on your lips while you swing a leg across his waist, straddling him. you snatch his phone from his hands, fingers toying with the hem of his hoodie.

“round two?” you don’t really wait for an answer, you just lean down to lock your lips against his as a distraction before you hurriedly tug the material off. just when you pull away to remove the hoodie from his head, that’s when you spot the splotchy and fresh hickeys scattered all the way from his collarbones and down to his ribs.

chris follows your gaze and gulps. oh, he’s in deep shit.

[synthetickitsune]

S.Coups (SVT) | Manifestation crack | 0.7k | gn!reader warnings: dick size discussion A/N: never let me talk to @hanniedream this isn't what i thought i'd be writing today. also why did this turn out so angsty

“What did you do?” Seungcheol’s quiet growling, his no-nonsense tone, doesn’t carry too far in the silent cafe.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sipping the drink you paid for, and slide his own cup closer to him. He’s so enraged that he almost crushes the cup with his grip.

“You know what I mean,” he snarls.

You hum and look out of the window. Perhaps you do, but you want to hear him say it loud and clear. Although maybe not that loud, you don’t need people to start turning your way. It’s revenge but it’s not part of your plan to publicly humiliate him. At least for now. So you clear your throat before he can slam his fist on the table.

“I mean it, Cheol,” you sigh and blink up at him, the picture of innocence, “Whatever do you think I’ve done?”

He sets his jaw, his fists clench and unclench. There’s a fire in his eyes that you know too well. That same fire once was the beginning of your undoing.

“Are you kidding me right now?” he looks like he’s about to hit you but you know he wouldn’t. 

“No, I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” you pout your lips only slightly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes scan the cafe but you’re sitting in a pretty secluded corner - again, a mercy he doesn’t deserve. He leans closer, gritting his teeth. His muscles bulge with the way his body gets tense. And suddenly despite everything, you find yourself drawn to him. Desiring him.

“My dick is shrinking,” he says, point-blank and without beating around the bush. You almost spit out your drink. He narrows his eyes at you.

“So I guess it’s working,” you snicker and the look in his eyes is priceless.

“You little-” 

He never gets to call you whatever he was about to call you, silenced by a curious look from a guy sitting a few tables over. There’s something very satisfying about watching Cheol withdraw back into his seat with fury still ablaze in his gaze.

“How and why?” he growls.

“Art of manifestation,” you shrug and chuckle at the confusion written all over his face, “I know, right? I guess not all of it is a scam.”

“As to why, do I really need to explain?” you quirk a brow at him. He just gives you a very straightforward nod. You roll your eyes. “You’re impossible, Cheol. You’re so annoying, walking around like you own the world. Like everyone needs to bend to you will just because you have a massive dick - oh wait, had a massive dick.”

“What?” he looks ready to pounce at you, and not in the way he usually does, “That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it?” you huff incredulously, “Have you ever heard yourself talking? Cheol, you’re lucky nobody’s fucking done this before.”

“You’re so petty!” he spits and buries his face in his hands.

“And you’re so infuriating. Sorry but you need to be humbled, I’m basically doing this for you,” you take another long sip of your drink and feel yourself relax. What’s he gonna do? Only you can help solve his little problem. And he looks sort of adorable being helpless like this.

“What can I do?” he finally whispers. You’d be lying if you said it doesn’t hurt just a little bit that he never spoke this softly to you before, not even in the early hours of the morning when you were both sweaty and breathing heavily after your nightly escapades. No, instead he’d be boasting about how good he made you feel. He deserves this lesson.

“Be a good person. Be nice, be kind, the usual stuff,” you look away but you feel his eyes burning holes through you anyway.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I am nice, just not to you?” he bites back.

“Careful,” you smirk through the hint of hurt, “As you said, I’m very petty and you wouldn’t want your situation to get worse.”

You get into a silent staring contest that you end up winning. But still, somehow, despite it all, you feel like all you did today was prove his point.

You end up getting asked out on a date, as if something inside of Seungcheol broke and he accepted his fate. Not what you expected but sure, why not if he’s on his best behavior. Let’s see where this goes.

[laura1633]

I had to write something after hearing Crane suggest Max wear a ball gag to the first press conference of the year. It's just something short and silly but here it is. (1281 words)

“Charles, quick here, help me with this!”

Charles makes a peculiar squeaking sound as he finds two hands on him dragging him away from the direction he was heading and down a corridor. The Monegasque is just about to start kicking and screaming when he realises that it is Max who is currently manhandling him. 

“We don’t have much time” Max holds something up in his hand. And Charles - , well Charles has to do a double take because -

“What the fuck is that?” Charles stares straight at the item. There’s no real need to ask what it is because it is quite clearly a ball gag. The real question is why Max is holding it up menacingly seconds before they head into a press conference. 

“I was talking to Seb,” Max appears a little frustrated at the delay Charles is causing by wanting an explanation, “and he said that if I really want to make a statement about these new rules then perhaps the best statement would be silence….”

“Seb said to wear a gag?” Charles raises an eyebrow as he gives Max a curious look. He supposes that does sound a little like something Seb would suggest.

“Well no not exactly,” Max’s lips curl upwards into a grin, “The gag was my idea. Good right?”

“You know you’ll probably end up in the stewards room for this?” Charles’ heart rate spikes as Max impatiently thrusts the ball gag into his hands. 

“I will end up in there anyway!” Max smirks, “May as well have some fun first.” 

Charles finds a lot of things fun. Hanging out with friends. Skiing. Hiking. Music. Something. Anything other than stepping out in front of the world’s media in bondage gear. Clearly him and Max have different ideas of what is considered fun. 

“Are you going to help me or am I going to have to do it myself?” Max huffs.

“I can help,” Charles tuts rather defensively. Of course he is capable of placing a gag into Max’s mouth and be completely normal about it.

Completely. Utterly. Normal. 

“Cool,” Max opens his mouth wide. Ready, waiting. 

And suddenly it doesn’t feel quite so funny because Charles’ hands are getting sweaty and his heart is about to break free from his ribcage. He doesn’t really have much choice though, he can’t exactly run away, so the Monegasque reaches out and tentatively places the ball gag directly into Max’s mouth and watches as the Dutchman wraps his lips around it.

It looks -, fuck it looks hotter than it has any right to. 

Max makes a soft humming sound of approval and turns around to let Charles fasten the back. 

This is absolutely not what Charles imagined he would be doing moments before the first press conference of what could be a pivotal season for him.  He has no idea how he is going to answer questions about Ferrari’s championship potential or the impact of the arrival of Lewis when he has Max sat next to him like this. 

Charles gets the gag properly fastened and is pretty pleased with his handiwork. It’s not too tight but it’s secure enough that it’s not going to fall out.

Max makes a muffled sound that goes immediately to Charles’ dick and the Monegasque tries his best to think unsexy thoughts. It’s bad enough Max is going in there with his mouth stuffed, Charles absolutely can not accompany him with a hard on.

“You ready to go?” Charles gets a gentle nod in return as Max rather dutifully follows him through to the room. 

And just as Charles had anticipated, the whole room erupts with noise. There’s raucous laughter and excitable chatter along with a few gasps and most significantly of all a blinding amount of flashing cameras. Within minutes there will be photos all over the internet of Max with his mouth held open and lips plush around the silicone ball.  

“Everything okay Max?”

Charles watches as Max gives the reporter a thumbs up and then slinks down on the couch casually. Like this is any other press conference. Like there isn’t the smallest amount of saliva already dripping from behind the gag. 

There is though. 

Charles is close enough to see it dripping around the sides. By the time they are done here Max will likely be drooling helplessly. Wet. Messy. Filthy. 

Fernando looks endlessly amused. Ollie looks shocked but then giggles along nervously. Charles is - , well in truth Charles is turned on.

“Max why don’t you tell us what you think your chances are of retaining your championship this year? 

Charles turns to his right and watches Max shrug and then make a ‘so-so’ action with his hand. It’s enough to earn him another round of laughter from everyone.  Everyone apart from Charles who has to force a smile on to his face. 

Max fidgets a little in his seat. Charles can’t help but wonder what the Dutchman is thinking, whether he is regretting it, whether he is enjoying it. 

The Dutchman tries to swallow down the spit that is clearly building in his mouth. Charles hears the wetness of it. Sees more drool starting to escape down the sides, glistening under the lights. Max doesn’t look embarrassed though, he is just staring out ahead. Charles isn’t sure he has ever seen someone look so submissive and dominant at the same time. Gagged but in control. 

“Max is this some kind of statement regarding the new rules and penalties?”

Charles tries not to groan as he hears Max make a murmured sound from behind his gag. It’s completely incomprehensible, obviously, but the helplessness of the sound makes Charles’ dick twitch.  Again everyone in the room chuckles. And once again Charles has to force a smile on his face whilst also discreetly trying to readjust himself so his semi is not quite so obvious. 

There must be other people finding this a turn on. Charles can’t be the only one. Except maybe its because Charles can hear Max trying to breath around the intrusion. Maybe its because he can hear the muffled sounds and the slurping of spit. Maybe it’s because he can see the stretch of the lips and the way Max’s throat muscles are contracting each time he swallows. Maybe its because Charles is the only one thinking about what else Max could be gagging around right now. 

Charles has no idea what answers he gives to any of the questions thrown his way. In fact Max is probably making a lot more sense than he is. The Monegasque jumps up the second he is allowed to leave and immediately turns his back to the audience of journalists so they can’t spot the rather obvious bulge in his pants. 

Max follows him closely out of the room and is quick to remove the gag. The Dutchman starts gently massaging lightly his own jaw and wiping the excess of drool up. His cheeks looked flush, red all along the cheekbones, his eyes are sparkling tough. Excitement. 

“I think you shocked them,” Charles tries to look normal about the whole thing, “I don’t know whether you are a genius or an idiot.” 

“Perhaps both,” Max shrugs. 

“I can’t believe you bought a ball gag just to wind them up,” Charles’ gaze drops to the gag, it’s soaking wet, “What the hell are you going to do with that now?”

Max laughs and shakes his head. 

“I didn’t buy this for them,” Max smirks as he meets Charles’ gaze, “I had it at home. It’s going straight back into my collection.”

Charles stares blankly as Max winks and then saunters off swinging his ball gag in his hand. 

[energ00n]

Hi I am in love with your apprentice series, I can't get enough of it.

I do have some questions regarding the interaction of all the bots;

Has Sentinel ever tried to interact with Orion and what would D-16's reaction be to this?

Do Prima and Megatronus know about their apprentices special bond in the making and have they talked about it among the two of them?

Is there ever a gathering where all the apprentices and their Primes interact with each other?

You mentioned that Prima only has Orion as an apprentice, while the other Primes have several. What is the reason for that? And how do the other Primes feel or think about it? And what do the other apprentices think about it? ( are they jealous or curious about Orion)

D-16 better not do something stupid when it comes to Orion, like Megatronus had said it's a special bond which needs to be protected.

Kudos to you and have a good weekend

1. Sentinel has heard about Orion and his only interest in Orion is what’s so special about the bot that Prima took him in. The interest is passing and he doesn’t intend to lift a finger about it

2. They do, Prima talks about it more but with no seriousness or respect for it that Megatronous has

3. There’s a ball sometimes, it’ll be an event in the future

4. There’s no explicit reason, Primus didn’t make a rule or something, Prima just doesn’t connect with people is a running theme with him. Having apprentices isn’t that big of a deal to the Primes, it’s not an obligation or duty, they find it out of the ordinary but it’s not worth pondering over after 5 minutes. Same with the other apprentices, they’ll be more curious about Orion but not by much and they have no reason to be envious of him

[lu-is-not-ok]

Could you elaborate why you think Big and Might/Will be Bad Wolf is more fitting for Hong Lu than Heath? Cus it's story of being forced to only be the villain because of *what* it is is pretty much exactly Heathcliff's experience with WH mistreating him because of his Backstreet origin and his subsequent lashing out thats attriubted solely to his 'nature' (not to mention his canonical wolf Distortion, and being called the Wolf in the Wildhunt world, and dogs/wolves being a strong association to him in his source), so I'm very curious.

Heathcliff screams dogs/wolves to me more than any one else by a longshot, for the above reasons.

I am so glad you asked, because this is something I've been wanting an excuse to yap about ever since I posted that art!

Big and Will be Bad Wolf is an Abnormality which, while straightforward on the surface, has a lot of interesting nuanced subtleties to it that are the main reason why I assign it the way I do.

The gist of the Abnormality is that it's an initially cute and even kind wolf who is "destined" to become the Big Bad Wolf, becoming the villain of another story, simply because of the way it was born. It was fated to be hungry, unable to fill its stomach enough to feel sated. Fated to be alone, to be hurt as the one who becomes an example and gets punished.

If we were to stop here, then sure, Heathcliff could reasonably fit the themes here. He's forced into being a villain purely because of his birth, forced into a destiny that makes him unfulfilled, dehumanized, and unfairly punished.

However, it's when you get to the subtleties that Heathcliff begins to clash severely with what Big and Will be Bad Wolf is actually about.

First of all, and most notable when you look at the Wolf's flavor text in Ruina, is its complete resignation and acceptance of its role. The Wolf doesn't fight against its destiny, it doesn't try to change, but rather the opposite. It's fully resigned to the fact it will be hurt, be called by no name, and have to hurt others, to the point where it slowly stops caring about anything other than its own hunger.

This is, if you know anything about our Heathcliff, in complete contrast to everything his character stands for. Heathcliff's entire character arc is about him rejecting that very role being forced upon him. He has the resolve to prove that he's just as human and just as worthy of respect as everyone else. And he refuses to stop fighting for that right to be recognised as a person at all cost.

The second nuance I'd like to bring up is one that already has been mentioned here and there, that being the overwhelming hunger the Wolf feels which is what causes it to lash out. Just like the previous theme, it's primarily seen in Ruina, though in this case more so in the Floor Realization for the Floor of Language and how it relates to Roland. The Wolf, similarly to Roland, has a void within it that it cannot fill no matter how much meat it eats, how much violence it commits.

Again, despite all the memes the fandom might make about Heathcliff Black Silence, he's really nothing like Roland in this department at all. In a way, Heathcliff is almost too full, his being so focused on Catherine he has barely any space to be concerned with anything else. Even after her death, he refuses to give up on her, despite how impossible his chances at getting her back may be. There is no void to fill with meaningless violence, but rather a direct purpose to strive towards.

So, that's what I have on why Heathcliff, despite how he may seem fitting for it on the surface, is actually deeply opposed to everything Big and Will be Bad Wolf stands for on a thematic level.

Here's where the fun part begins though. Because if not Heathcliff, then why Hong Lu, right?

See, we already know from the fact that Hong Lu has Rose Hunter E.G.O that he too has a certain role he's destined to fulfill, one that he finds undesireable but also one that he can't truly escape from.

I believe that in the case of Hong Lu, the role of the Wolf would be representing his birth status as a Jia. Think about it. Everything we've seen of the Jias show them as hostile at best and extremely violent and downright villainous at worst. If Hong Lu has any similarities in status to Baoyu, that being that he's a sort of "chosen" Heir to the Family, then that means his role as yet another perpetrator of the Jias' violent ways is all but predestined.

You can even say that Hong Lu has a notable parallel to how Big and Will be Bad Wolf presents itself, that of course being kind and cute on the surface, but repressing a deeply unfulfilled and violent side with what little resolve it may have left.

And speaking of resolve, this is where Hong Lu matches the Wolf much closely than Heathcliff. There is a constant thematic thread of hopelessness and meaninglessness in Hong Lu's character. Even if he might have run away for now, the way he speaks about meeting his Family again makes it clear he doesn't believe it will last. There's a notable resignation and acceptance of the fact that no matter what he does, he will be dragged back to his Family and stripped of the name he gave himself. Born a Jia, always a Jia, you could even say.

Unlike Heathcliff, who constantly fights back to assert his existence as a person who deserves equal respect, Hong Lu simply lies down and takes everything thrown his way. The Wolf is an inherently Slothful figure, a trait which matches Hong Lu far better than Heathcliff.

Hell, Hong Lu even shares a specific sentiment about that with the Wolf. In Ruina, one of the Wolf's possible flavor text quotes is "There’s no need to be nice to me… I’m destined to be a big bad wolf…" Doesn't that sound familiar? Doesn't that seem so similar to how Hong Lu expressed that he understood why his Family members wanted to kill him, and thus didn't bother to fight back?

Then, of course, we come back to hunger. And here I have to get a little bit more speculative, but not as much as you would think. See, I believe Hong Lu is much more similar to Roland in this case than Heathcliff. Everything points to the fact that Daiyu is not only dead, but left behind a void in Baoyu/Hong Lu, one that he tries to ignore but one which clearly taunts him into snapping and falling into that "meaningless wrath".

If you're wondering what exactly I mean, I go way more in depth about Hong Lu's repressed anger and how Daiyu's death appears to be what causes it to leak out in this post. However, to summarize how it ties back to Roland and the Wolf, I believe that just like for Roland, the void left behind Daiyu's death is what ends up causing Hong Lu to lash out and will eventually drive him to outright meaningless violence. An attempt to fill one's life with anything after their meaning was taken away from them. Which is exactly what the Wolf reflects through its endless hunger, unable to be satisfied no matter how much it eats and kills.

Honestly, Hong Lu is kind of a sleeper pick for Cobalt Scar with just how much he fits it. I'd almost say it's shocking that I've only seen like one other person similarly assign it to him, but it's really not. Hong Lu is one of those characters that repeatedly gets sanded down due to how he presents himself, with his more worrying and violent tendencies being ignored in favor of falling for his facade. After all, one has to first accept the fact that Hong Lu not only has a capacity for violence, but even the potential to outright enjoy it, to be able to see the reasoning for Cobalt Scar as an E.G.O for him.

[luhafraser]

I couldn't care less, Anon... 😜

People spend every/all day here speculating this or that about the lives of two people who aren't even members of their families. There are some bloggers who try to track down everything about Sam's life. No one here has the right to say this or that about anyone...

Finn, over the years, had his account open and private a few times. He blocked accounts he didn't know, but he let other accounts continue to see what he posts... Why would that be, right?! These accounts followed him because of all this crap that Sam and Cait created and that makes people curious... I posted his story, so what? I didn't go to Cait's wedding church to investigate, or to her father's funeral, or wait for Sam or Cait in front of their houses, and that doesn't mean I'm here criticizing whoever did that, right?!

Several bloggers look at other people's IG accounts to find stories/reels that Sam and Cait might be in, people who have nothing to do with Sam and Cait... And for many here that's ok... Looking at other people's accounts to find anything about them... Do you think it's okay to look into the life of a stranger, and even track that person's steps, to find out about Sam and Cait? Do I think it's right? No... Have I done it? Yes... Who am I here to judge?! Who here can really point the finger and say this or that about someone... 🤫

Now, what a crime, right?! Posting a story from a private account, from someone who, even with his private account, chose accounts to block and others to continue looking what he posts... Wow, what an awful person, but everything else is ok and moral... Oh, please... 🙄 It's funny that no one thought it was a bad thing when I posted places that Sam and Cait had been to, and that they supposedly didn't want people to know the addresses, right?! 😜

I stayed away from all of this a little because my life outside this bubble is my real life... This "here" is a hobby, not my routine, at least not anymore. I really don't understand why there are so many attacks from all sides...

No Anon, I don't want to draw attention to myself, I post as a hobby (as I've said...), and when I posted places it was for the fun of looking for them, and because I thought shippers should know... Obviously, all the engagement that a post generates is nice, comments and everything... Who here doesn't post to have this interaction and see opinions... to think of their own theories?!? Yep... And I will always have shippers as my favorite side here 🩷🥰 ... No matter what happens! 😉

And no Anon, I'm not old enough to be Finn's grandmother... I'm barely old enough to be his mother and what does that have to do with it?!? Another thing we all judge here... Age... Why are women so hostile to each other, right?! Why are we like this? 😕

Let's not forget that for years several bloggers have been posting content from private Facebook groups and even from MPC... I could spend all day talking about how this has already crossed all limits and how no one should judge others here...

Thanks for your hateful words and Welcome to the OL fandom on Tumblr... A bubble of fun, but full of hate between women and a lot of hypocrisy! 👋

[irlnorthshaw]

Here's a question:

What are your Supa Strikas ships that you thought of and like, and think people wouldn't get?? (I'm curious lol-)

MIMPI... mimpi... be careful for what you're asking because you know how i am with shipping. guys i ship for life. like i dont give a damn if the ship's interaction is worth one cent... i make do with what i can and have!!! and after rewatching the show a couple billion times... i have gathered some INTERESTING ones.

liquido and riano

as you may know, i have watched "your latest trick" A LOT. yes they did interact in this one scene and never again but hear me out– they give me: liquido can't get over himself and thinks he can bag one of the finest man in the super league. but we all know riano, riano isn't having any of that. their convo would go something like this:

"hey, riano~" "goodbye, liquido."

el matador and blok

YES. yall heard me. this is also me showing some love to blok because some people seem to forget about him!!! what can i say, i love the idea of this dynamic. the thing is, sometimes i ship things in a way i wanna see more of them interacting and not necessarily picture them BEING together. if that makes sense.

these two are exactly that. i wanna see more of them interact bc lowkey i thought it was so wholesome when blok wanted to collaborate and promote fzzzl bmmm w the release of el matador's action figure.

DOOMATIC!!!!! OH YEAH BABY

if only automatic had more moments EUGH... this would've been so good. i personally pat myself on the back when i thought of this one bc i cooked HARD!!! they definitely cannot stand each other and to me, that's the best part of it all.

enemies to lovers who? more like enemies and i cannot believe we're also lovers.

skarra and north

the best way i can describe this one is. i am simply projecting myself on north and i love skarra. so... yeah #SHAMELESS

inyo and miss altivo

AKA PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE YURI!!! this one you guys HAVE to love. PLEASE!!! the potential is so insane here... inyo's big brains and chameleon-like tactics? combined with altivo's unwavering power over these dumb men for clicks and views??? COUNT ME TF IN!!!

we need more yuri in this fandom and THIS is where we should start.

brenda and lena

SPEAKING OF YURI... here's another one. except this time i am so surprised nobody has jumped on this yet??? futbol 360 yuri, i NEEEED IT!!! i need it now. they'd honestly be so cute and wholesome, moreover they definitely trade information abt the players for work

coach and the sheikh

now this one is a tad bit controversial BUT who am i without some controversial opinions!!! this is another case of i cannot see them BEING together, but i would kill to see them interact more. they are wayyy more entertaining than coach and vince. (THAT MIGHT ALSO BE CONTROVERSIAL) ohh... the way sheikh is so sassy w coach. maybe i just want more of the sultans... yeah thats it.

"losing your cool, coach? or just losing?" AND THEN PROCEED TO WALK AWAY LIKE THE BADDIE HE IS??? crazy stuff. i want more. NOW!!

belmont and von pushup

OKAY SO... storytime is i had an edit of these two a long time ago but i cant find it???? so consider it xander lost media at the moment. you guys need to hear me out on this because they would be SOOO PEAK!!! jock and goth but to another level i fear. as big and tough the iron tank guys are, i doubt they can stand grimm fc's haunted gimmicks.

plus von pushup works together w belmont to scare his own team bc he thinks its hilarious and perfect psychological training for them

AAAAAND THAT'S ALL... for now hehehe

sorry for the really long response but I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM!!!! i love crackships so much and especially in supa strikas bc we get a whole lot of freedom as a smaller fandom to do whatever. this was a very fun post to make, thank you so much mimpi for that lovely question!!! i always look forward to your input

[sharpjay217]

Ok, I'm curious about the GIGGS Phasmo, but I make it sad thing you got going on for your WIP ask game. What kind of sad are we talking about here?

(Asks are about this tag game!)

So a bit of context on me, is that I am a huge fan of stories about grief, death, and finding peace with it. One of my favorite games is Spiritfarer. I actively seek out stories that are going make me feel some kind of melancholy.

My GIGGS AU is also a sort of a Hermitcraft Ensemble AU, just with GIGGS at its core. Along the way, between regular Phasmo-style ghost hunts, the crew occasionally encounter standouts. The ghosts of people who would have been their friends in another life, or maybe even once were.

I imagine this as a series of oneshots, each a kind of character piece for a non-GIGGS hermit, as GIGGS tries to figure out who they were and how to help them.

Basically, GIGGS Phasmo but the hermits are ghosts. Because I like to make myself sad. :)

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 30

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

Mr. Charles was being a dick this morning and decided to start screaming (meowing) at 5:30 am. Normally this is fine, I wake up at 5:30 but it's the weekend. I can't believe my son betrayed me so badly. So unfilial.

To cope I have a lady grey tea with some milk.

Let's get into chapter 30!

I would be so mad too if I found out my father (who has the authority and ability to take action) knew about Yong'an and just didn't react. p36

Okay but I don't agree with the sate preceptor at all. Him being all "you're too close to the issue to be reacting". Like I think it is important to stay at least a little human and in touch with people to know what they need. I'm curious to see how this turns out, but damn. I am sure there are pieces missing. No one else is doing anything, at least that we know, for Yong'an. p37

"As long as I act, there will be results, every little bit counts. Even if I can only save one person, that's still better than indifference and inaction" p38 I love this so much. Fuck I think this book is going to wreck me not even for the content, but because it feels like it's drawing a lot of parallels to the state of the world at the moment.

Damn. The fact that this issue became one with an impossible solution is rough. Like 0 ways to help these people. oof. At least not able to support them without the risk of more. This is the Trolley Problem. p42

Another downer omg.

I am glad these chapters have been hard but also short because it's been giving me time and space to take them in. oof my guys. Yall weren't lying. I truly am not surprised that Xie Lian is struggling with his mental health because the weight of carrying these disasters would be enough to ruin anyone.

[fantomyoshi]

Completed Requests!

I forgot how long requests can take sometimes, hah, possibly because I'm too perfectionist in my art? xD

Anywho, thanks for the people who requested! I had such a blast making your OCs! If you'd like you can still request some other OCs, the Thread will be opened until the Poll I have up is finished. However asked requests will be pushed to Saturday, as I won't be available on my PC until later this week.

Enjoy!

Simple but still one I enjoyed making! The hair was my favorite part lol. Also I love the little Vex designs-

Dylan, as much as I loved making you, I did not have the brush to make your pattern, making those lines everywhere is a nightmare- Good luck with your Villager friend tho c:

I won't lie but this one was the most fun to create xD I decided to fuse both designs given, I think it makes it unique in some ways! I wonder what they're talking about? Perhaps about Nerus' dragons?

Another very fun character to draw! A challenge I haven't explored yet but I'm glad I got to draw this goofy-looking boi. Awesome design. Care for some wine? Oh yeah and he's dapper too, bonus+ points (:

I gotta say, Rinn is possibly one or if not my favorite Illager on here. (Not counting my own). Her personality and overall design is just something I find exquisite, and the little bit of lore shared makes her very unique among them! Definitely am looking out for more about her! ^^

Spooky surprise drawing??!??!!! What this-! I know you didn't asked for Aleroth but I've been wanting to draw him for a while but never found an excuse to until now xD Heard he was curious, so I made him meet Nerus' own curious derg, Fang. What could go wrong? :D

@shinyillager @spacowy @ask-tdw-0666 @dirt7core

[theonlytwoalive]

Theo immediately regretted asking such a personal question as they saw how Alaire reacted. It was something that they just kind of blurted out without thinking of the implications behind it. Not thinking before they spoke was always something they got into trouble for as a child, so they should have known better then to ask something that could seem nosy.

As Alaire explained that he was non-human, Theo was shocked. He couldn't believe that someone he had known for a little bit wasn't a human, but I guess until today he didn't think vampires actually existed either. He listened with intrigue as Alaire said he was a werecat and could change at will. The more that was explained to Theo, the more they could understand how lucky they were to have the other find them when he did. He didn't want to think about what would have happened to him if Alaire wasn't there to kill his attacker.

"So, I am a vampire and you are a werecat?" Theo finally said, still trying to wrap his head around everything that was going on. "And all the media I have seen about vampires is widely incorrect?" He added as he smiled slightly at Alaire. It was quite funny to know that the classic portrayal of vampires was actually wrong. He wondered if other vampires ever wished they could tell the humans how wrong they were about it all.

As Theo thought about other vampires, they were curious about how many other were out there. Was there a whole non-human community out there that he was never aware of? If this community existed, would he be accepted even though his master was dead? All questions that they wanted to ask Alaire, but they didn't want to bombard him any further than they already had.

Not really knowing what to do, Theo looked around the room to check his surroundings. He tried not to pry too much but he was interested in finally seeing the inside of Alaire's place. There was a coziness to the other's space that made them feel happy, almost like they knew they were safe here without needing to be told.

It's the simple fact in that Alaire selfishly couldn't bare the idea of losing the closest thing he had to a friend his entire life. Even with other nonhumans, Alaire didn't interact with them too much. Mostly in the fact that he was immortal and the idea of losing someone who wasn't.. is.. well, Alaire doesn't really deal with loss well. So, he'd chosen being alone. Until now, that is.

Their question catches him of guard, but he supposes Theo catching on isn't surprising in the slightest. Not when Alaire saved him from a vampire. It hinted at him having some sort of special ability among other things that pointed in that direction such as being aware of things like vampires being real. "Well I.." This feels so strange. Sure, there were plenty of other people that weren't human that could tell he wasn't just by glance or scent alone, but he's never told a human about what he is. "I'm not.. a vampire.. but I'm not human either."

Which is more believable now that Theo has had a run in with a vampire and been changed. It certainly makes explaining a little easier despite how strange and taboo it feels to discuss it somehow "I used to be, but a long time ago, I was turned into what I am." He'll spare them the details though more so because they're traumatic than anything.

"I guess the simplest thing you could call me is.. a werecat? Though nothing provokes any sort of change in me. It's more.. at will." And yes, there were other people similar to him, but Alaire had been turned into what he was via artificial means and against his will. Others were either mutants or some other variety of creature; Typically things that often disguised themselves as regular house cats or even wild cats. Things such as bakeneko though such creatures typically lived in Japan.

"It's how I was able to stop your attacker, but unfortunately, I couldn't stop them before they'd already began the change in you." If only he found Theo sooner. Then they wouldn't have to be going through this at all. Somehow Alaire feels guilty for not finding him sooner. As though he could even have helped such a things - like he could have possibly known Theo was in desperate need of his help. "But I suppose ridding you of a Master is the best thing I could have done otherwise."

Thank the Gods there was no code against killing vampires like you often saw in vampire media. While some media had some truths to them, for the most part, they were inaccurate. Something most vampires laughed about and made fun of.

"You at least don't have to worry about the whole sun thing." Alaire begins in explanation "Yeah, the sun will make you feel pretty weak for the next week or so because you're going to be feeling that anyways, but it's not going to go killing you by bursting you into flames or something crazy like that." Alaire shakes his head, images of typical vampiric media through human writers flashing through his mind. "Your powers are weakened during the day, but it's not going to kill you."

[novelconcepts]

Okay, but—how does the hunt evolve? How does it get more barbaric than it begins? Because the first hunt, with Natalie, has everyone on equal ground. Everyone is dressed for warmth, everyone has shoes on, it’s very “this could happen to any of us”. It’s fair, if such a thing exists in the wild.

But the opening scene of the pilot? Pit Girl? She’s in a flimsy dress. She’s barefoot. She’s not designed for a sprint to get water, much less for her life. So, how does it escalate? How fucking bad must it get, for the hunters to be dressed in furs and masks, and the prey to be so unprepared for the elements? That doesn’t feel like a move they’d make unless things got so much worse than we’ve seen.

[puppppppppy]

good morning sifloop nation