#Not sure if this will stick but so far I like it

[rafesangelita]

♡ bitchy!pogue!reader brings a friend to tanneyhill..

warnings: sex work, threesome (m + f + f), face sitting, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, a little but of wlw

a/n: i’m really nervous about posting this fic in particular because it’s my first time writing smut with another woman so please give me some grace thank youuuu!

“how the fuck did you even discover this place?!” topper ran his hands through his hair, his jaw falling slack as his eyes danced around the room full of pretty girls prancing around in trashy lingerie and heels. ‘pink sugar’ was by far the most attended to strip joint on the cut— and it showed. as soon as any patron walked in, they were immediately hit with a whirlwind of cheap perfume, body glitter, and sparkly lipgloss. it was every man’s wet dream come true.. including rafe’s.

“life on figure eight gets stale after a while, bro. sometimes you just gotta expand a little bit, y’know?” topper nodded even though the words that rafe just said went in one ear and right out the other. the two of them took a seat in front of the main stage, a waitress wasting no time in getting their drink orders taken up to the front. while rafe had been here a handful of times, topper was like a kid in a candy store as he sat in awe.

meanwhile, you were getting ready in the locker room, both you and your best friend sticking rhinestones around each other’s eyes as you two waited to be called out by the dj for your turn to perform. “it better be a full house tonight.. i already have my eyes on these shoes, and there’s no way in hell i’m not getting them.” you cursed under your breath, running a pink comb through your hair to make sure everything looked perfect.

just as you adjusted the garter straps of your stockings, you heard your name being announced to the crowd outside. “good luck out there!” your bestie called out behind you, a giggle leaving your lips as you waved. even though you were more than familiar with the atmosphere already, you couldn’t help the thumping of your heart everytime you walked out from behind the curtains and felt the burning stares from the hungry men in the audience against your skin.

you smiled sweetly, the lights dimming just in time for you to lock eyes with two guys in the front. one looked laid back, his gaze raking down your figure as he drank from his glass, and the other looked like he couldn’t believe you were real. you knew right away he was a first timer by the way he leaned forward in his seat. pretending no one else was in the room, you started dancing, the floor already being littered with various dollar bills.

you tuned out the whistles and the hollering and focused on only the music, your set going by faster than you thought. with only one more song left on your list of requests, you stepped down from the stage, your hips swaying as you walked over to the two men you saw when you first came out. snaking your hands down the chest of the one with a buzz cut, you kneeled between his thighs before feeling him over his lap, his jaw clenching as he watched you intently.

rafe knew as soon as you looked up at him with something a little more than just lust in your eyes, he was going to have to take you away from here, your glossy lips shining underneath the neon lighting of the club. originally coming out to pre-game for the rager rafe was throwing tonight at tanneyhill, he figured he’d get the party going early with you looking so fucking pretty between his legs. he didn’t get to dwell on the sight for too long before you left him alone just as the song ended.

flashing him a wink, rafe watched you disappear backstage, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. blinking out of his trance, rafe told topper he would be right back with more drinks before making his way over to the bar. “excuse me,” rafe motioned the bartender over, “do you know how i can talk to the girl that was just on stage?” he asked. “y/n? she usually comes out and converses with the crowd when she’s done with a set, she’ll be out here soon.”

quickly ordering three rounds of shots, rafe made his way back over to his seat only to see you and a friend of yours already over there laughing at something topper was saying. “—oh, here he is now..” topper laughed nervously, taking the tray of shots out of rafe’s hands as you two shared a look. “you talking about me?” his voice alone gave you butterflies, his tall form making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“don’t worry he didn’t say anything bad..” kitty, your best friend, teased. rafe looked over at her, his eyes wandering down her own sexy get-up. fixing his gaze back on you, rafe leaned down to whisper in your ear. “do you do personal parties?” he all but groaned once he smelled your sugary sweet skin, the sound shooting straight down to your panties. “personal parties?” you repeated, “it’s gonna cost you.” rafe scoffed, not worried about the money.

“give me a number.” he placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. you and kitty side glanced one another, a smile gracing your lips as your nails snaked around the buckle of his belt. “what kind of party?” you asked, making sure you were aware of what you were getting yourself into before agreeing to anything. “i’m throwing a house party tonight on figure eight, all of my friends are big spenders.. just putting that out there.”

you thought it over for a moment, a small part of you feeling intimidated since you weren’t familar with figure eight, nor did you know anyone that lived on that side of the island. “ten thousand, and i get to bring my friend over here.” you nodded towards kitty who was already sitting in topper’s lap. “perfect. do you need a second to get your things? i can take both of you straight over there.” you hummed at his words, silently signaling kitty to meet you in the back.

she excused herself from topper, both of you walking closely with each other to the locker rooms. “so what are we doing?” she was quick to touch up her makeup, changing out of her dancing shoes and into some platform heels. “that guy out there is willing to give me ten thousand to go to a party he’s having on figure eight, but if you come with me we’ll split it, plus he said his friends were ‘big spenders’, so that’s five thousand each excluding tips.”

without having to say another word, kitty was immediately on board, both of you squealing excitedly before grabbing your purses from your lockers. following the guys out of the club, you allowed rafe to open the passenger door for you, topper and kitty filing in the back before rafe started up his truck. he put on his music loud enough for you to feel the bass in your chest, a mix of excitement and anticipation swirling in your tummy.

you didn’t know what you were expecting to pull up to, but a mansion as huge as rafe’s definitely wasn’t on your list of possibilities. there was cars already filling the streets, people lining the gates of the house as rafe parked in the driveway, his arms wrapping around your waist as he helped you get down from the truck. you and kitty waited for him to start letting people in before leading both of you through the front door, topper following closely behind.

“i just need you two to cater towards my people, alright? these guys don’t know what a good time really looks like and i want y’all to be the ones to show them, ‘sound good?” just as he was going to send you and kitty off to the living room, you stopped him. “we need to get paid before we do anything.” rafe glanced between you and your bestie and nodded. “of course, why don’t you two follow me upstairs and we can get that out of the way?”

doing as you were told, you and kitty both looked around the house as he lead both of you to the master bedroom. “it’s in here.” he welcomed you two in, doing a quick sweep of the hallway before locking the door behind him. taking a seat on the huge bed, you and kitty watched as rafe took a metal briefcase out of his closet and entered a pin for it to unlock. looking up, rafe admired both of you as kitty ran her fingers through your hair, a smile adorning your lips as she did so.

both of you were so unremarkably gorgeous, it was hard for him to count money as you two giggled with each other. while fixing one of the rhinestones on kitty’s face, she was staring at the body glitter on your cleavage, running a finger over the sparkly dust. “are you trying to cop a feel?” you teased, moving your hand to rest on her thigh. rafe’s jaw clenched at the sight. “maybe..” kitty laughed, both of you leaning into each other as your hands wandered further up underneath her skirt.

rafe cleared his throat, both of you snapping out of whatever this was. “this is the money right here,” he held up the stacks of cash for you two to see, “however, both of you seemed to have piqued my interest..” glancing at each other confusingly, you and kitty waited for rafe to explain. walking over to the chair that sat in the corner of the room, he took a seat. “take each other’s clothes off.” at this, you felt your heart starting to beat in your ears.

sharing a look, you and kitty had the same nervous expression written all over your faces. “for ten more grand, can you beautiful ladies let me watch?” you had to refrain from letting your jaw drop to the floor, your stomach flipping at the new offer. kitty scooted closer to you, her hand shielding her mouth as she whispered in your ear. “what do you think?” blinking, you stole a glance at the full brief case that sat on the hardwood desk against the wall.

“i think he can do better than ten thousand dollars..” you whispered back, your faces just mere inches away from each other’s. “make it fifteen.” you looked over at rafe, shrugging off your coat to reveal your outfit from earlier. “how about twenty?” kitty swore you could hear her heart beating out of her chest. “tell him it’s a deal.” she whispered, getting up from her spot on his bed. “we’ll do it.” with his cock already stirring in his pants, he leaned back in his seat as you and kitty pressed a soft kiss to each other’s lips.

stepping out of your heels, you snaked your fingers behind kitty’s top, her hands resting on the globes of your ass as you untied the strings to her sequined bra. you and kitty have been best friends for as long as you can remember, you two literally started dancing at pink sugar together, there was nothing that you two hadn’t seen of each other already. “are you okay?” she spoke low so rafe couldn’t hear. humming softly, you kissed her again, allowing her to slip off the lace material of your underwear.

rafe swallowed thickly, his eyes traveling over your naked figure. despite there being two of you, he found himself zeroed in on only yourself, your stare holding his as kitty kissed down your neck. “should we include him?” you whispered against her skin, running your palms down her side. “you like him, don’t you?” she giggled. you blinked slowly, refraining from smiling as you hummed quietly. “go get him.” rafe shifted his weight in his chair as you walked over, carefully straddling his lap.

“me and kitty want to share you..” you ran your hands over his chest before undoing the buttons of his shirt, the sight of his toned stomach encouraging you to do away with his belt next. rafe watched you as you palmed him through his pants, his tongue poking out to run over his bottom lip. taking his hand in yours, you helped him stand up on his feet before getting him out of his clothes and leading him to where you and kitty were.

laying him down, rafe looked at the two of you as each of you kneeled on either sides of him. “tell us what you want us to do.” kitty stroked his inner thigh while you took his cock in your hand, a strangled groan rumbling from his chest at your touch. his chest rose and fell while he took a moment to think. “i want kitty on my face and you on my cock.” he looked at you with hooded eyes, your head moving in kitty’s direction. “whatever you want, handsome.”

you and your best friend held hands as if to hold onto each other for leverage, her mouth falling open as rafe skillfully circled her entrance with his tongue, her hips moving smoothly so the tip of his nose was nudging her clit with every stroke. you on the other hand, could barely keep up with his thrusts as he stuffed you full, your moans bouncing off of his bedroom walls. “fuck, he feels so good.” you whimpered, nearly doubling over as he started thrusting from underneath you even harder.

kitty’s head hung low in defeat as she rode rafe’s face, her thighs trembling around his head as he licked and sucked at her soaked cunt. you clenched around him, squeezing him tightly as he groaned in response. kitty was speechless at the whole ordeal, her eyes rolling far back into her head as rafe held onto her thighs so she couldn’t get away from him. “oh, god—!” kitty gasped, her chest rising and falling as rafe pushed her over the edge, her hands dropping from yours in order to dig her nails into his skin.

rafe cursed when he felt the stinging sensation, your hips still moving as he loosened his grip on kitty’s thighs. he kept up his ministrations until your best friend got off of him with a squeal, overstimulation setting in as she laid next to him still going through the aftershocks of her orgasm. rafe licked his lips clean, wasting no time in sitting up against his headboard, his hands grabbing onto the globes of your ass so he could bounce you on top of him.

you buried your face in his chest, the scent of his cologne only adding to your cock drunk state. “you’re so fucking tight, holy shit—” he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth, your clit meeting his pubic bone as kitty took a seat behind you, her hands coming around to cup your tits as she moved your hair to one side of your shoulders to expose your neck. holding your head up, you shuddered when you felt her lips on your skin, her teeth nipping the sensitive flesh there.

you were a mess by the time rafe’s hips started bucking, kitty’s lips finding yours as you came with a cry, his moans echoing in your ears as he pulled you against his chest. you clenched around him as he came inside of you, his cum painting your insides as he panted. letting out a sigh, rafe thumbed your chin, both of you sharing a heated kiss before kitty got up and helped you slide off of him. “you okay?” she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “yes, are you?” kitty nodded, both of you slipping back on your clothes.

rafe watched as you two cleaned yourselves up, his hand motioning towards the money. “it’s all there..” he trailed off, “kitty you think i can get a word alone with y/n here?” grabbing her stack, she nodded before going into the bathroom, leaving you and rafe alone together. “i want you to come back tomorrow, ‘spend the weekend with me.” you bit your lip, glancing over at the bathroom door. “i don’t know if kitty will be busy—”

“no, just you,” he cut you off, “i want you by yourself.”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[dammit-tazmuir]

C— kept saying, Pick one. Are we more invested in proving this new plan is bullshit, or in saving you? I was like, It’s both, how can it not be both. C— was like, It can’t be both. Pick one and stick to it. Decide what you give a fuck about.

Spoiler alert, it wasn't both.

But ya know. I'm sure it'll be both this time. The faceless oppression of global capitalism and collective exploitation of billions over the course of centuries was bad and all, I guess, but like, John also hurt people who didn't deserve it, and more importantly, people we the audience personally like, which is way worse than people we don't know.

Obviously we won't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it and are objectively qualified to decide that. Quests for vengeance never have collateral damage if you're morally pure, and John's problem is just that he always sucked. He probably lied about his whole backstory and wasted a quarter of a book, I'm sure Tamsyn would do that to us. Alecto probably, uh, played eeny meeny miney moe or something, she definitely never had a real reason to choose him.

Also sure there's very little misogyny in the empire but sometimes he's dismissive toward Mercy (far more condescending and meaner to everyone including other women, but when she does it she's a girlboss) and he patronizes the babies (definitely because they're women, not because they're babies) so obviously he's just super sexist. Ignore his relationship with his own masculinity, his childhood love for dolls and hatred for older men, his aversion to casting himself as "Father" despite all the Catholicism. Ignore that his original inner circle minus puppets consisted of his childhood bestie, his boyfriend, his boyfriend's inseparable baby brother, his girlfriend, and four other women and no other men. Also being polyamorous definitely means he's running a gross sex cult, that claim isn't anyone's biases showing at all, it's not like it took his partners 500 years to seduce him. Also ignore any and all historical allegations against any of the schools he's attended, I'm sure those details were arbitrary and being in the first paragraph of a book isn't important. It's not like he vents often but avoids directly saying anything that makes him sound weak or vulnerable. And we all know that the world consists only of blameless victims and malicious abusers. So I'm sure he's just power-hungry and manipulative for funsies and we totally just need to murder him already.

Hi can you tell I'm tired.

Anyway yeah it wasn't "both" for him and it would really suck and undermine the entire point if it was magically both now for us.

Obviously he did a lot of shit wrong, and I'm not even saying there's no satisfying way he could be punished or even die, but our girlies just storming the palace and assassinating him ain't it.

Tamsyn Muir: “Here's a series about how a man's vindictiveness dooms the universe, all because his trauma left him incapable of believing in forgiveness over vengeance. As contrast, the protag in the first book reflects something closer to divinity by extending her abuser grace so that she can repent and change, and the protag of the third book begs her brother to not flatten a planet in revenge after having experienced forgiveness.”

too many TLT fans: “yass can't wait for my girlies to kill God!!!”

[alotofpockets]

Made with love | Kika Nazareth x Adhd!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Did the baby just kick?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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Talking about having a baby with Kika had always been all over the place, a bit chaotic even. Conversations would always be left half-finished, jumping from topic to topic. But in the end one thing was clear, you both wanted to start a family.

When Kika transferred to Barça, the team where you had already been playing for a few years, you both knew it was the perfect time to start trying for a baby. You had both decided that you would carry, so Kika could settle into her new club. Never had you thought that you would get pregnant so quickly though, it was only the second try when you had gotten a positive result on the pregnancy test. While you hadn’t expected it to be so soon, the both of you were over the moon to get the news.

Your first trimester has been going great. You told the club, your teammates, and family, they were all super excited when they heard the news. The club setup a training plan for you to be able to continue light training for a while. They had honestly been a big help in figuring everything out regarding your help.

The hardest part so far hadn’t been morning sickness, or anything else you had been prepared for from reading up on the first trimester. No, it had been something that had taken you fully by surprise. The doctors had recommended you to stop taking your ADHD medication during your pregnancy. You wanted what was best for the baby, so of course you listened to their advice. But it has really been a struggle in your day to day.

Your meds usually help keep your mind on track. Now, without them your thoughts were all over the place. Taking your vitamins, drinking enough water, all the small things that were really important, just slipped your mind so much easier without your medication. It was like a constant puzzle in your mind, that you did not have enough energy for to solve.

It was really frustrating, not just because it was a struggle, but because you knew you were capable of these things. Over the years you had found ways to work with your brain, your own system to do everything you wanted to and needed to, but now that system just would not stick.

Luckily, Kika had been incredible with it all. When she was home, she made sure that your vitamins were already next to your breakfast plate. She left filled water bottles all around the house when she noticed that you would drink more if they were just there. Every appointment was neatly organised in your shared calendar by her, including notifications.

When she wasn’t at home, because she had to leave early for training, she left a trail of post-it notes. You would find more and more each day. Don’t forget to hydrate! or The baby says good morning and is hungry for some toast. Little reminders you would find throughout the day. Some were on your phone, so it would be the first thing you saw in the morning, others were on the fridge, the mirror, or the door before you would head out yourself. You loved finding the little reminders around the house. They made life a little easier, she made life a little easier. It was nice knowing that even when she wasn’t there, you weren’t alone in this.

While you were getting dressed for training, you heard Kika make all kinds of noises in the kitchen that had gotten you very curious. “What are you working on there?” You asked as you rounded the corner. She turned to you with a bright smile, holding up a glass willed with a green liquid. “I made you a smoothie.”

“A smoothie?” You questioned, you had never before had a smoothie before training, so you wondered where her idea had come from. “Yeah, spinach, banana, avocado, yoghurt, chia seeds, and some other ingredients.” She walked towards you with the glass, “It’s good for the baby, drink up.” She kissed your cheek after handing you the glass.

You took a sip, a little weary of the random ingredients Kika just listed, but you trusted her judgement. “Hm, that’s actually really good.” You tell her. “Of course, when have I ever made you something that didn’t taste good?” She said with a slight smirk on her face. “You’re right, darling, thank you.”

Kika drove the two of you to training. While you had your own light training session, you were still able to travel together today, and Kika would not let you drive anywhere if she was able to drive you. “I’m not carrying the baby, so I want to do as much extra stuff as I can to help out.” She had said, and of course you would not deny her feeling more useful during your pregnancy. 

You talked with a few of the girls in the locker room before heading to your own training. While you were very grateful for the way the staff had been accompanying you during your pregnancy, you really missed not being out on the pitch with the rest of the girls. But you knew that no contact training was what was best for you right now, and you would do whatever was best for your baby.

Once you were done with some warm-up exercises, you headed to a separate pitch with the trainer. The rest of the girls were a couple of fields over, you could hear them playing around, which was a little distracting, but the trainer tried his best to keep your focus on your drills.

Then like clockwork, Kika showed up at your training. Not once since you had started your separate sessions, had she not shown up to check in. You shake your head at her when you see her leaning against the railing on the side of the field. 

“Mind if I take a quick break?” You ask your trainer, who by now must have been used to Kika showing up mid-session as well. He nods, “Yeah, go reassure her.” After sending him a thankful smile, you make your way over to Kika.

“Don’t you have your own training to be at?” You say jokingly. “Maybe.” She answers and pulls you in for a quick hug. “You know you don’t have to keep checking up on me, right? I’m in good hands here.”

“I’m not checking on you.” Kika says. “I’m checking on the baby.” She moves her hand onto your stomach. “Need to make sure someone is looking after them as well.” You smile and hold your hand over hers. “Don’t you worry, I’m always looking after them.”

Then for the first time ever, you felt something move in your stomach. For a second you were thrown off, but then Kika spoke up. "Did the baby just kick?" She had felt it too, and the moment she asked that, you knew she was right. “Yeah, I think so.” You say as your eyes well up.

Kika lifts one of her hands up to your cheek, “Our baby just kicked, and we both got to feel it for the first time.” Her eyes were filled with love, and you were so happy to have experienced this first together with her. 

Then Kika’s smile turned into a smirk, “See, me checking in makes the baby happy.” She proudly pecks your lips. You chuckle and shake your head, “Of course it does, the baby loves you. I love you.” Kika smiles, “I love you, and our little bean.”

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[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Sfw alphabet ୨୧

pairing: Bob Reynolds ♡︎ GN!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ NOT PROOF READ IM SORRY, probably ooc bob again i’m sorry, mentions of abusive parents, self doubt, self destructive behaviors

summary: ʚ ɞ

Words: n/a

A/N: BOUTA SEE THUNDERBOLTS FOR THE THIRD TIME FOLKS I GET TO SEE MY BOYYY WOOO

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I wouldn't consider Bob an overly affectionate person normally, he grew up in an abusive home and really hasn’t had stability since. That being said I do think he learns to be affectionate towards ppl, especially you and Yelena. Specifically physical touch and words of affirmation make him the happiest. Small touches on his shoulder, grabbing his hand when he was scared, and pressing your foreheads together were some of his favorites. As he got more comfortable with you he'd start initiating more bc your just so cute how could he not wanna touch you smh

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think Bob is one of those guys you just can’t hate, he would be such an amazing friend to have. He’d always try to do his best even if he messes up a lot. I think regardless of the relationship you’d have with him he’d need reassurance even if it was subtle. He’d need someone to check in on him yk? Make sure he’s gotten out of bed every few days. Not babying him just checking in yk?

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YUUUHHH this man would just die if you cuddled him, I def see him as a little spoon like ofc. Like any with Bob it’s small. Maybe you fall asleep on him one movie night… Maybe he doesn’t move. Eventually it’s all he can think about, just wanting to rest his head on your chest as his limbs wrap around you, consuming you in his grasp.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think the concept of “settling down” is immensely foreign to him. He’s sworn off having kids probably, he just couldn’t bear the thought of passing his issues down to another person. Not to mention he’d be way too scared of ending up like his father to have any kids. That being said if you wanted kids and if got stable enough he probably would maybe consider yk. As far as just settling down if he got stable through therapy and getting married and just having a normal life would be good. With all his new time in the tower I think he’d really try and learn. And yeah he’s pretty good at cleaning. I don't think he likes mess at all.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Bruh he would be in SHAMBLES and it would definitely be because he either thinks he is bad for you or Yelena or the team thinks you're harmful for him he might break up with you too. It would be really sad lowkey. He'd tell you that he isn’t good for you, he's too unstable etc… I don’t think it would matter how much you begged him to stay if he truly thought he was going to hurt you (void probably) he might stick to it :(

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I don’t think he’s opposed to the idea in ideal conditions but he never thought he’d get married ofc. He’s convinced no one would love him at all, least of all enough to spend the rest of their life with him. This is in no way canon but maybe his parents weren’t married so he’s never even seen a successful marriage let alone relationship before the thought of that much commitment would probably worry him. It would take a few good years before he proposed, honestly I’m thinking like 5-8 lowkey. If you proposed then to him that’s saying “I’m ready to commit to you, I’ll be here for you.” Which would make him cry a lot and he’d probably say yes bc it’s you ofc he wants to marry you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically very very gentle, I think he hates loud sounds even though they are happy sounds it just is a little triggering for him yk. I think with you he’d never ever lay a finger on you even when he’s manic. When he is manic maybe being a bit reckless with his things like money. When he’s in a low he could be reckless the other way and give everything away :( emotionally he’s very skittish, we see that in thunderbolts he is very shy but he usually says what’s on his mind. I can’t see him being rude on purpose but during a manic episode he might be a little cuz yk

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Again this man loves physical touch but he won’t innate it a lot and definitely not at first. But he loves it every time you surprise him with a hug. He’s very much a ‘arm around your shoulder and the other one around your waist’ person. His favorites are when you hug him from behind thought, even if he’s taller than you. It makes him feel like he’s protected and safe and that’s such an important feeling for him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

im ngl probably pretty quick in. He doesn’t say it to manipulate you literally at all he just means it in his heart and soul and he needs to tell you or he’s gonna explode. Of course he’s hesitant to say it but you’ve taught him to be brave (and Yelena is his personal hype man and tell him to just go for it)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Honestly I do think he can be jealous and kinda easily, but he isn’t blinded by it. He knows he’s being irrational, but that doesn't help how he feels. He probably just wouldn't say anything and be mildly passive-aggressive until you force him to say he's jealous lmfao.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

like literally everything else about him very quiet and gentle at first then grows more and more confident over time. but also bro is a friend so once he has one he’s gonna get addicted. i think it’s the one thing he starts initiating way more than you (over time) bc bro is so down bad for you it’s not even funny. even if it’s just a peck on the cheek or the top of his head he’s greedy and needs more

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

again i don’t think he’s bad per say maybe just awkward. like he doesn’t really know at what age they start doing what so he’s just kinda staring at them. if it’s a baby he’s probably very scared bc obviously he doesn’t wanna hurt them and everything so it’s pretty a no go from him. if it’s like a 10 year old it’s a little better bc a ten year old knows how to talk lol, so again awkward but like eventually ok

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

i don’t think he’s a grumpy morning person per say, maybe if he didn’t get like aaaaanyyyyy sleep he’s a little grumpy pants. I think he probably didn't sleep unless he was high, which he is clean now, so probably pretty shitty sleep. i think he’s the type to not understand anything when he first wakes up just completely brain dead. Since moving in the tower he’s been trying to cook more and breakfast food is easier so that’s what he tries to do, and reading a book to keep his mind at bay :) since yall are dating he’s probably pretty clingy in the mornings, just like staring at you until you wake up like 0^0

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

i think of him as a night owl but not in the party sense, in the sad getting high in his room and staying up until the birds start chirping. again since he’s moved into the tower i think he has a more normal sleeping schedule now. nights are mostly just him trying to get his powers to work without void coming making an appearance. If he absolutely can’t sleep, a glass of milk and staring out at New York would help him. since he has you now he’s definitely having an easier time sleeping. he’ll cuddle right up to you and pass out pretty soon after

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's definitely a more reserved person but he does say stuff about himself. if you asked he’d probably tell you, because it’s you he’d tell you anything you wanted to know but he also tries to explain why he acts the way he does sometimes. talking about his addiction and struggles with mental health he can talk about after a little bit of knowing you, but opening up about his dad would take a lot longer than that for him to be open about it. when you are open with him and talk about your struggles and past he gets really emotional bc you trust him enough to tell you stuff :((

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I think he is decently patient about most stuff. when it comes to controlling his powers i feel like he could get impatient about that bc he just wants to be useful. when it comes to being patient with out people i feel like he’s kinda a pushover and will be tooo patient but when it’s relentless he’ll get pretty passive aggressive. we see that with walker in the vault pretty much do u can

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

we know Bob experiences amnesia after his episodes so he probably wouldn’t remeber a lot of stuff a lot of the time, but i secretly think he’d remember the little things if that makes sense. like the way you take your eggs for example. it just stick out in his mind for whatever reason. he’s just happy he has you there to help him remember.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

i think one winter the team decided to take a trip out, including Bob. he doesn’t get out much mostly from his own choice. he doesn’t want to accidentally harm anyone so he offers to stay behind. but with your encouragement he decides to go out. you bring him to ice skating rink (which he’s never done before growing up in florida rip) it’s outside and everything! he sucks of course but he has a lot of fun as you teach him (or both of you fail lol) to skate. sipping hot coco and taking in all the holiday spirit around you. it’s probably the happiest he’s ever felt in his whole life.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

i think he is naturally a very protected person especially over himself. it’s just a defense mechanism yk? he can’t get hurt or hurt anyone else if he doesn’t have anyone. once you break down those walls and show him he deserves to feel love and to love others, he is incredibly protective over the people he cares about, especially you. you are the love of his life no way in hell anyone is gonna ever hurt you. if your also a very protective person his heart will swell every time you defend him emotionally or physically. (but he’s also probably feel guilty your were spending so much energy on him T-T )

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

again bouts of amnesia so it’s not like he wants to forget birthdays or anniversaries he just literally might. If he does remember, he tries to make it so special for you. you deserve the most this world has to offer and he is gonna try. i also feel like he’d give practical gifts rather than expensive ones.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

the general self destructive behavior is the first thing that comes to mind. it’s pretty implied bob either has Bipolar disorder or BPD and a symptom of BPD is the destruction of one’s self through self sabotage or just general behaviors. cutting you and the rest of the team off to distance himself. when things get difficult it’s easy for him to not see the point in anything anymore which is a very dangerous and serious mindset to be in.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

almost not at all. Obviously he cares at least a little as everyone does but he isn’t obsessed with his outer appearance much. He considers himself an ok looking guy. Nothing good but nothing bad either. after the sentry serum and he gets really strong and his abs show up (👏👏) i think he’s maybe a little more confident ?? but maybe not we don’t really see bob before the sentry project :( all he knows if that you make him feel like that the most handsome boy ever.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

almost definitely. I don't think being in a relationship fixes your mental health but you definitely make Bob feel a lot more loved and cared for. Continuing to make progress would be impossible if something bad happened to you :(

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

i think he eats on the floor. sitting and eating at the table usually let to a fight with his dad, so as he got older he’d just sneak food into his room and eat it on the floor. as he got even older and started getting into trouble he often didn’t have a stable place or a place at all to live so he ate what he could when he could. and even now he’ll sit on the floor during movie night, just plop himself down right next to the couch.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Probably no one like rude. Sure he can deal with sarcasm or a lil rough around the edges but absolutely not anyone who is mean or rude lol. it would just make him sad :(

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

i’ve mentioned a lil bit already but doesn’t sleep very well at all, probably tosses and turns most nights. until of course you get there then instead of tossing and turning he’ll just listen to your heart beat until he falls asleep. :(

[delicatestones]

Wave of Wardposts sliding across my dash reminding me I have unresolved issues with the fact that Chris is one of the most categorically telling fumbles in Ward.

Like you have a character who touches on:

The way that the physical form links to the mind and how embodiment is part of identity

Living with severe harm done to you by a sibling

Forging a future for yourself while struggling with the expectations of an abusive parent of who they made you to be

The strain of pushing yourself to constantly perform new stunts with your power in ways that don't necessarily align with its 'intention'

Dealing with a 'villainous' origin and the stigma of that in the world of capes

The difficulty of forming relationships when you're kind of an asshole

Chris has one of the most 'easy to make thematically relevant' powers in the therapy group to boot. And we can't say it's too high concept and convoluted to make legible to readers because let us consider some of the other fucking powers in Ward. 'Guy mutates based on emotional states he wants to evoke' is pretty straightforward compared to some!

But for reasons that remain beyond me Chris betrays the therapy group because...it was time for the scheduled shocking betrayal, and he did it because...reasons that don't quite follow from prior characterization but okay, well, surely Villain Chris will provide some kind of interesting - ah no never mind he's just apathetically Evil now in ways that occasionally show a glimmer of promise but ultimately conclude in "our viewpoint character doesn't care about the interiority of people who aren't her + Wildbow was in the weeds by that point".

And I could dissect this all more but the way Chris' potential is spilled like a soda behind sticky theatre seats feels like a symptom of the many ways Ward did that with everything. We got rid of Chris so we could, bless her, spend approximately one million years resolving Rain's issues as a central hinge of Ward's dissolving thematic tissue only to - and this part also gets me - not resolve Rain's issues or arc to the extent of concluding a major part of it offscreen.

Salvaging Chris wouldn't have saved Ward and it's far from the biggest issue with Ward, but in the version of Ward in my head that's good Chris sticks around to force Victoria to have ongoing beef with a child in orthodontic headgear. I think it would be funny.

[zimzalabimboo]

You were frustrated, beyond belief

You had been abusing your clit for the past hour, all to no avail. Your cheeks were furious, hair spread across the sheets and strands sticking to your sweat, you looked like a mess, you were a mess.

You couldn't cum. You've been playing with yourself for so long and yet your climax was so far away.

Your fingers reach out of your mouth trailing back down to your wet pussy. It felt good, but it just wasn't enough. Your mind went hazy from how unbelievable bad you wanted to cum, tears stinging your eyes. You circle two of your fingers around your fluttering hole, before pushing it in, followed by slowly dragging out.

Your thoughts trail off, his face comes into mind.

You clench around your own fingers at the image of him, if it were his fingers replacing your own, you whine into your pillow as you sped up your movements, your eyes closing shut as you remember the way he always plays with his cats, the veins on his hands. You've always wondered how they'd look somewhere else.

And his voice, oh his voice. He doesn't even realise the effect he has on you, how shy you get whenever he calls you a good girl, you get off on it. He'd probably call you a good girl in bed too, or maybe he'd call you a slut, that's so hot.

But he's your best friend.

He ties you shoelaces together to trip you after offering to tie them for you, he takes you to go get ice-cream when you're sad, he was only being such a good, pure friend.

And you were being selfish thinking about him like that, you felt so much guilt pool in your stomach after every time you pleasured yourself imagining him in a not so friendly manner, but you couldn't help yourself. You've had heart eyes for him since forever, he was just oblivious. And dear god you hoped he'll continue being clueless, you'd rather the earth be hit by a meteorite then him finding out.

Your favourite thing about him was his voice, and his hands, and his eyes.. his lips, maybe you just liked him.

Your fingers curl in yourself, pushing up against the hot, wet, walls, your mouth gasps open a bit, the tip of your fingers plunge in as deep as the length of your fingers allowed it to, you were so close, but not close enough.

You sped up a bit, hips rolling against your own hands, the sounds from how wet you were reaching your ears, your fingers glisten with your own slick. It was filthy. You can feel your nipples poking against your (or his) shirt.

"mmnhg..m-minho.." you sigh, barely above a whisper

His ears perk up at that, leaning against the doorframe, "oh?", his smooth voice breaking you out of your ecstasy.

What the fuck.

Your heart drops down to your ass, my hands coming to a halt. You shoot your eyes open, glancing up at him, how long had he been standing there?

"eek-! what are you doing here!!?!?" Your nervous trembling voice rambles out cracked, stumbling to cover yourself with a blanket. He just remains silent, smirking. You were about to pass out while this fucker was just grinning at you. You tilt your head at his lack of response, unsure of what to do in this unfortunate situation.

He breathes out a huff of what seemed like amusement, and simply takes a few steps forward towards the bed, where you laid half naked.

"You seemed pretty comfortable just a moment ago, don't let me interrupt" he voices out, and to your absolute horror, he starts getting on the bed, hovering over you. You were never gonna live this down.

"..what?" You were utterly confused, wasn't he mad? disgusted? embarrassed? You surely were, you were almost on the verge of tears from embarrassment actually. We stay in a moment of silence, he raises an eyebrow, staring down at you.

"I said keep going, I won't stop you" his sentence gets quieter towards the end when he dips his head down to your neck, your head was spinning. What was happening. You flinch when he licks a long stripe up your neck, suckling right under the lobe of your ear.

His tongue was flaming against you, his teeth clawing at your skin. Suddenly he stopped, "you don't take instructions very well do you?" he looks at you making direct eye contact, you didn't realise you haven't moved an inch since he climbed on the bed.

"You wanted me so bad you couldn't keep your hands out of your pants while thinking of me, and now you'll stop when you have me right here giving myself to you?" His voice was so sweet, so calming, except his words were in direct contrast to how he sounded and did anything but calm you down.

Your hands hesitantly go back into motion, circling your clit, everything felt way more stimulating when he was looking into your eyes. He glances down at the blanket slipping off.

You can feel your head disconnecting, he was on top of you, sucking you neck. You were embarrassingly close already. He sighs, hot breath against your skin basically making out with your neck, he leaves wet kissing down your collarbones, biting down in your shoulder.

That was the breaking point for you, your toes curl as you reach your high, wetness dripping down your fingers. With a loud moan that you attempt to muffle.

He lifts his head up to take a look at the state you were in, smug look on his face, "I turn you on that much?" he trails off as he reaches for your hand, raising it up to his lips, no he wont... he tilts his head down a bit, engulfing your fingers in his mouth, making direct eye contact, you could feel his tongue swirl around your fingers, he moans at the taste squinting his eyes, with furrowed eyebrows.

You were speechless, still breathless, your heart was about to jump out of your chest. "well it seems that you're enjoying yourself too" you state the obvious, "and you were the one spying on me".

"your door was open, couldn't help but take a peek" he take your fingers out of his mouth, "who touches themselves without locking the door anyways" your face heats up at that, you didn't realize you didn't lock your door.

"we're not done yet" he says looking down at you, his gaze faltering lower..oh

"it's your fault so you have to fix it"

Okay thats it no more I CANT.

[billspaid]

The side effects of being in a car crash

Cw: medical inaccuracies, pregnancy

Something something Mel getting lightheaded whilst driving and so she pulls off to the side of the road and passes out. A car ends up rear ending her *very lightly* but the other driver is so panicked that they call 911 and she ends up at PTMC.

There’s a massive commotion when the EMTs bring her in, still unconscious, and Robby has to put his foot down that only him, Mohan and obviously Langdon are going to be in the trauma room with her.

When Langdon first saw her being rolled on in the stretcher, his heart stopped. He legitimately dropped whatever was in his hands and ran forward, trying not to make too big of a scene.

Sure, most people assumed something was going on between him and Mel but they didn’t know the extent of it. They had been dating for just over a year now but they were very good at playing it down at work. Except for Robby and Mohan, no one really knew for sure.

Langdon walks in on autopilot, staring at Mel’s face as his mind filled with the worst. Someone sits him down on a stool near her face - probably Robby and Mohan starts doing initial checks.

He tries to pay attention, he hears mostly positive things but the phrase car crash rolls around in his head like a sick movie.

Someone calls out for an echo and Langdon vaguely registers the sound of gel being squirted onto Mel’s body. And then Langdon looks up because the two of them had gone quiet.

“What? What is it!” He cries out, eyes hungry and anticipatory.

Robby looks at him over his glasses as Mohan presses the ultrasound stick against Mel’s lower abdomen.

“Why didn’t you tell us? Langdon, when I asked you if you knew of anything was up with Mel, why didn’t you tell us?” Robby asks, standing up straight and straining as if he’s trying to contain his frustration.

“What? Tell you what? Mohan, what’s he talking about?” Langdon snaps back, his hands automatically stroking the hair on Mel’s head.

Mohan’s eyes flit between the two of them. “Mel’s pregnant.” She says, eyes settling on Langdon softly.

Langdon freezes in place. His eyes drop down to Mel’s stomach and then her face before looking back up at Robby and Mohan. He blinks, lips parting but he can’t bring himself to say anything.

“You didn’t know, did you?” Mohan pulls the wand off Mel and sets it back on the machine. She walks up to the IV in Mel’s arm and checks her stats which seem be stable.

Langdon shakes his head.

Robby softens and nods slowly. “Okay. Okay, this doesn’t leave this room. Let’s head up to CT but there’s nothing alarming. She’s probably just dehydrated.” He says and then bends his knees to catch Langdon’s gaze. “Frank, she’s going to be fine.”

He nods but he’s not sure how much he believes that.

-

Later, after they just got back from CT, Robby places them in a bay away from everyone’s prying eyes. There’s an empty room in the far corner and it’s perfect. Robby keeps the lights off and pulls the curtains to give them some privacy. Mohan comes to relay the news that Mel’s absolutely fine and she was just dehydrated.

“For the record, she’s not that far along. Maybe a few weeks. She probably doesn’t even know.” She says more informally, looking at him with a friendly smile.

“Yeah.” He sighs, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

Mohan watches them for a moment. “Call me when she wakes up.”

Mel wakes up a couple of minutes after Mohan leaves. She blinks, groaning slightly before finding Langdon’s face.

“Hey, what happened?” She murmurs, reaching her hand up to stroke his face.

Frank laughs with wet eyes, pressing a kiss to her hand. “You’re fine, sweetheart. Some dickhead rear ended you and you fainted but you’re fine, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Mel smiles, blinking slowly as she tilts her head closer to him. “I remember pulling to the side of the road because I was feeling faint. I haven’t been drinking water.” She says with a frown.

“Yeah, you were really dehydrated. But you’re okay now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and Frank leans down to press a long kiss on her forehead.

Frank waits a moment until she looks more awake. He goes back and forth but honestly he’s bursting at the seams to tell her.

“Mel?” He says, lips pressed to her hairline.

“Yeah?”

He moves back and looks her in the eye before exhaling. “Mel, you’re pregnant.”

She looks at him, frowns, like she didn’t agree, like it was an opinion. “Sorry?”

“You’re pregnant.”

Mel shifts to sit up with an uncertain expression. “Uh, are you, are you sure?”

Frank nods. “Positive.”

Mel looks down at her legs. “Oh.”

“Mel, will you say something? I’m just trying gauge your reaction here.”

Mel turns to look at him and wraps her hand around Frank’s. “It’s just…it’s just a lot to take in right now. Are you okay? You must have been so worried, come here.”

She shuffles onto the bed and he doesn’t hesitate to slide in next to her. She settles into his embrace, pressing her face against his chest as he kisses her hair.

“I was so scared, Mel.”

“I’m sorry.”

Frank laughs. Only Mel would try to make him feel better after being unconscious for an hour.

“Im just a bit surprised, that’s all. Can we talk about it later, I think I just want to rest for a bit.” She says quietly, pressing closer into his chest.

Frank sighs in relief. “Yeah, sure, honey, whatever you want. I’m right here.”

[viviansturns]

𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔

╰┈➤ 𝒃𝒔𝒇!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝒃𝒔𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 fic

CALL #1: 7:21PM

The screen lights up with Chris’s face, hair sticking up like he’d just rolled out of bed. He squints into the camera, blinking hard.

“You look like shit,” you say, settling into your pillow with a grin.

He groans, rubbing his face. “You’re so sweet to me.”

“You called me, loser,” you laugh, shifting the phone so it rests against your knee. Behind you, your half-unpacked room is still a maze of open boxes and crumpled Target bags.

“Just checking in,” he says, voice softer. “Wanted to see how Big Bad Business School’s treating you.”

You sigh dramatically. “I’m living off bagels, coffee, and prayers— there’s way more work than in highschool. But the campus is nice. And my roommate’s not terrible.”

Chris perks up slightly. “Oh yeah? What’s she like?”

You chew your lip, hesitating just long enough to make him squint suspiciously. “He’s chill. His name’s Jacob. He’s doing film. Keeps accidentally leaving his camera battery in the fridge.”

Chris blinks. “He?”

“Yup.”

“Jacob?”

“Correct.”

There’s a long beat. Chris adjusts how he’s sitting, then frowns slightly. “And you’re just... cool with that?”

You arch a brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No, no,” he says quickly, hands raised. “I mean—sure. Yeah. Just... wasn’t expecting it. Didn’t know they had co-ed rooms.”

You snort. “You sound like my mom.”

He glares at you through the screen. “I do not.”

You smirk. “Anyway, he’s sweet. Offers to walk me back from night lectures and everything.”

Chris doesn’t say anything at first, then mutters, “He sounds too sweet.”

You laugh. “Jealous?”

“Me?” he scoffs, looking very much like someone who is, in fact, jealous. “No. I just think it's weird you’re living with a guy who’s probably secretly writing you into a screenplay.”

“Ew Chris, don’t make me think about that.”

You’re still laughing when the silence settles in,  soft and warm, just. Chris shifts on the screen, lying on his stomach with his chin on his arm, like he’s trying to be closer to you somehow.

“I miss you,” he says, quiet. Like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You blink, caught off guard for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. I miss you too.”

He smiles, but it’s faint. Tired. “It’s weird without you. Like I’ll say something dumb and expect you to look at me like I’m an idiot… but you’re not here.”

You smile, a little crooked. “That’s tragic. Who’s humbling you now?”

“No one,” he sighs. “I’ve been getting away with everything. It’s dangerous.”

You laugh, pulling the blanket higher up your chest. “It’s weird here too. I go all day without anyone making fun of me for how I tie my shoes or whatever.”

Chris grins. “It’s not how you tie them, it’s that you bunny knot like a five-year-old.”

You flip him off, and he laughs again. But then it’s quiet.

“Wish I could see you,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“LA is really far from Boston”

“Yeah.”

“I said that Boston was home. Like ‘cause of family n shit. But I guess it just doesn’t feel like home when you’re not here,” he mumbles, not making eye contact with his phone camera.

You don’t say anything, and just watch him.

But neither of you hangs up. Not yet.

CALL #2: 11:20 PM

You’re just settling down for the night, finishing a game of mario kart with your roommate Jacon, when you get a text.

Chris: wyd?

You: Playing mario kart w my roommate

Chris: are you down for a movie night

Chris: perchance??

You smile at his request and get up, completely abandoning the video game.

“Hey? Where ya going,” asks Jacob. You look over oblivious to the fact that you just accidentally ditched him.

“Oh sorry, I just thought we finished the last game. I’m boutta have a movie night with a friend back in boston.”

“He the guy you always facetiming?” you look confused. “Um, I guess, I don’t facetime him that much.”

Jacob raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. “You do. Like, a lot. I’ve literally never seen your phone not lighting up with his name.”

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. “…Okay, maybe a little.”

Jacob grins. “It’s cute. Go, I’ll pause our rematch somehow.”

You sort of blush and flip him off playfully as you leave, already pulling up FaceTime. It rings twice before Chris’s face pops up on the screen, dimly lit by his laptop.

“Y’know Chris, you can’t just say perchance. It’s not grammatically correct.” he completely ignores that, saying what's on his mind instead.

“You bailed on Jacob so fast,” he teases, smug. “Didn’t even say goodbye?”

You gasp. “I don’t even remember telling you his name?”

He shrugs. “Sure you have.”

You roll your eyes and settle into bed, propping the phone up against a pillow. “Okay, creep. What’re we watching?”

Chris glances at the screen. “I found this old rom-com on Netflix. It’s called Love & Letters or something dumb. Had decent reviews. Seemed like your vibe.”

You snort. “Fine. But if it sucks I’m making you watch a business documentary I need to finish for homework”

“Deal,” he says, already hitting play.

The opening credits roll, and the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, joking about the acting, mocking the plot holes, tossing little comments back and forth like you’ve done this a hundred times. Because you have.

And then about halfway through, the rom-com does what rom-coms do—it gets unexpectedly steamy.

You shift slightly under your blanket, glancing at your screen just as Chris does the same. Neither of you says anything for a second.

Finally, he mutters, “Why are old movies always so freaky?”

You smirk. “I think the regulations were less harsh on—” you clear your throat “”—nudity. But they, anything for the character development/” 

He scoffs, but his voice is a little quieter now. “Right. Super necessary. For the plot.”

You glance at him through the screen. “You okay over there?”

“I’m fine,” he says, too fast. Then, a beat later, “You?”

“I’m fine,” you echo, matching his tone.

Another pause. The movie continues.

Then, more gently, he says, “I didn’t know you… like, watched stuff like this.”

You laugh under your breath. “Chris. I’m not twelve.”

The scene seemed to stretch on forever, and Chris had the controls to skip it— which he didn’t.

You try to break the awkward tension. “So like… how was your first time? With Christina or whatever, right?”

“Oh”  He scratches his face nervously. “We never actually went like— all the way, y’know?”

Chris clears his throat, looking off to the side. “I mean. It’s not like we didn’t do anything.”

You raise a brow, amused. “Oh?”

He groans softly. “Why’d I even say that.”

You laugh. “Nope, you opened this door.”

He rubs the back of his neck, still not quite looking at you. “She… gave me a hand job once. It was—whatever. Awkward. Fast. I freaked out and said I had to go home to wash the dishes.”

You blink. “Chris. That’s so fucked up..”

“I know, Y/N!” he says, dramatically burying his face in his hands. “It was panic. My brain short-circuited. I just—panicked.”

You’re laughing so hard now you’re nearly crying. “That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

He peeks through his fingers, clearly dying inside. “Don’t make this worse for me.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “I’m not. I promise. I think it’s kind of… sweet?”

He drops his hands. “How is that sweet?”

“‘Cause,” you say, eyes a little softer now. “You cared enough to not just go through with something that didn’t feel right.”

He looks at you through the screen for a beat. “Yeah. I guess.”

CALL #3: 4:53PM

8 missed calls. That's what you woke up from your nap You shot up, heart slamming, already imagining the worst. Hospital. Accident. Fire..

Before your brain could spiral further, he called again.

You answered immediately.

“Chris? What—”

“WE BLEW UP,” he yelled, not even letting you finish. “DUDE. We—y/n—we fucking blew up.”

You blinked, still halfway between sleep and a heart attack. “Blew up like… exploded? Or fame-wise?”

“Fame-wise! Like—I don’t even know what happened! I posted that dumb-ass clip before bed and now we’re viral on, like, ten different meme pages and my phone’s lagging and Nick's literally crying. And also charli d’amelio dmed us for a collab??”

You sat up straighter. “Wait—are you serious?”

“I was just on the phone with an agent! A real-life agent! And someone else just emailed us about an apartment in LA and—holy shit, we’re moving. Like actually.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re moving to LA? Just like that?”

Chris nodded fast, hair a mess, eyes wide. “Just like that. Like—we said we’d only go if we blew up, right? Well, we did”

You could hear Nick yelling something in the background about needing to pack his entire closet, and Matt yelling back that he refuses to live in a city that bans plastic straws.

You grinned so hard it hurt. “I’m so proud of you. Like—so proud. Oh my god. My hands are shaking.”

Chris looked at you through the screen, his smile softening. “Wish you were here.”

“Soon,” you said, breathlessly. “You’re gonna be here soon.”

And even with all the chaos, all the noise, it hit you like a wave—everything was about to change. And you weren’t scared. You were excited.

The two of you calmed down for a couple moments, just sucking it all in. 

“Jesus Chris, I can’t wait to see you. I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other in 9 fucking months. That’s almost a year!”

“I know bug, and it feels like forever. We’re going to have so much fun when I get there just you wait.”

You just squeal in excitement then throw your phone across your bed. 

Suddenly, you don’t care about your upcoming business project— you’re going to see the triplets again.

HEEHEEE I CANT WAIT TO WRITE THE REUNION FIC ITS GOING TO BE SO CUTE

@sturniolosrtewsexy @sturnbrooke @emely9274 @babytomatoes21 @arianna1342 @gemzyy @namelesssav @chestersturn @ellieluvssturniolos @tits4matt @vanteguccir @luke8989 @matt-sturnioloo @glee2skkii @riggysworld @sturnslux3 @cass-sturn @auttysturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @chrismakesmewet @whore4chris @sturns-mermaid @eeyoresturnz @httpssturns @chrxsprettygirl @bernardsbendystraws @chrisbratt333 @aurorasturnz @iluvchr1s @sturniolosymphony @joanakaulitz

comment 2 be added to the taglist

[mistressofthemanor]

masterofthemanor

The fact that he was not only able to devise a decent narrative on the spot, but also delivered his idea in a compelling way managed to astonish him and fill him with contentment. In the past, it was nothing out of the ordinary as he'd practied those same skills day to day, mostly at the ministry and frequently before and during their secret missions when he served the Dark Lord. Critical thinking was required in both of those roles he'd taken up on himself as it was usually him suggesting an approach, a strategy which they'd carried out, so it really shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that despite not having been forced to come up with a plan within seconds - without giving himself long hours to consider and second guess his every decision - he was still able to pull it off; and do it with ease. It was evident on her face as well that she'd been impressed with him, proud of him even, although he felt that could've easily been a stretch, his own desires seeping in and clouding his judgement as he regarded her, drinking in her graceful movements as she sat back with ease - clearly, she was as relieved to actually have a logical plan they could stick to as he had been. "So?" He inquired with a knowing smile, unable to help himself, although, he hadn't addressed her to have her hurry up and to emphasise that, he'd went back to his breakfast, sliced off a bite and lifted it to his mouth, chewing carefully while he waited for her answer. His brows lifted up expectantly as he looked up at her and he gave her a warm smile, flattered by her compliment and enthralled by the smirk that spread along her lips. As much as he tried not to look overly joyous or smug for that matter, he'd lost it when she'd pointed out that the plan was very much like him as he let out a warm chuckle and shook his head. "I'm glad it earnt your approval" He gave her an appreciative glance as he started to slice another bite, however, he was soon captivated by her mesmerising gaze that, combined with her musing about those two weeks, made his breath catch in his throat and his movements to still. "Do you think we could get away with two weeks? Surely, Celeste would notice our absence" He surmised, not meaning to burst her bubble, still, he wanted to remain reasonable with their plans. Giving her some time to think it through, he'd finished the remainder of his second pancake, then took a sip of his tea as she'd moved on to a lighter topic and asked him for a specific detail of another part of their plan. He grinned against the rim of the cup at the formal way she'd addressed him. It's been so long since he'd heard her utter his name in that flirtatious manner. "Hm... Where have you been lately?" He asked instead of giving the cliché answer of 'anywhere you'd like to' or coming up with a suggestion right away, wanting to figure out whether she had a specific country or place she would have liked to visit.

She set the teacup down slowly, precisely, and folded her hands over the linen napkin in her lap, taking a moment to let the question settle in the air like perfume. “Where have I been lately?” she repeated, as though tasting the words on her tongue. “Hm. Figuratively, I suppose I’ve been in survival. Literally…” she trailed off, her gaze drifting toward the far window, where the morning light broke in quiet strips across the tiled floor, “mostly Paris, in truth. I spent a handful of months in the Marais. Rented a narrow little flat with drafty windows and the creakiest floors you could possibly imagine. It was nothing grand. Quite the opposite, in fact.” She looked back at him then, something wistful but fond behind her composed smile. “And yet, it was peaceful. Anonymous. I could walk down Rue de Turenne at dawn and no one turned to look. No whispers. No name. Just... a woman buying apricots and coffee.” Her fingers played absently with the edge of her napkin. “But that’s not where I want to go.” She leaned forward, her tone lightening with subtle playfulness, though her eyes held something deeper.

“I was thinking… Hungary. Do you remember that estate outside of Pécs? The one built into the hills, with the mineral springs tucked behind the vineyards?” Her voice softened with the memory. “We stayed there for three days. You booked the entire property without telling me. I thought we were just stopping to rest before moving onto our final destination. But instead, you saw how exhausted I had been even when I told you I was fine. You brought me pastries in bed and told me that for once, politics could wait. And we just like that, extended our vacation." Suddenly a memory occurred to her and she let out a chuckle after she popped another strawberry into her mouth, "You spent the entire afternoon fussing over which herbs to steep in my tea, swearing you’d mastered healing brews after one weekend with Severus to help me regain my energy. I was certain you were going to poison me.” Her voice softened further, “There was no one there but us that weekend. And I don’t know if I’ve ever heard the world be that quiet again.” She paused, watching him with something gentle in her expression. "I think that's the kind of silence I'd like again...with you. Somewhere free from secrets." She watched him then, as if waiting to see whether the man who’d once charmed her in the smoke and polish of ballrooms could still meet her there—just the two of them, stripped of their legacy, their name, and everything they'd been expected to carry. “It’s not grand. Not polished. But I think we could disappear there for a little while. The world will keep turning without us, Lucius. And Celeste—she’ll wait. We’ll return to her not just armed with truth, but with something she can see. A bond she can’t ignore.” Then, more softly, “Let’s go where there are no expectations to rise to…just each other.”

Bones of Contention

[onlyangel4]

kayfabe. cm punk. part four.

dark!cm punk x superstar!reader

synopsis: you and punk are placed into a long-term onscreen pairing. a storyline romance meant to boost ratings. the chemistry is undeniable, but offscreen, punk is distant. until he’s not. he begins texting late at night. watching. testing boundaries. you realise he’s not method acting. the possessiveness, the tension, the jealousy, it’s all real. and if the storyline ends, he won’t take it well.

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five

you weren’t sure why you said yes.

maybe it was the ache in your chest. maybe it was the sleepless night. or maybe you just needed something familiar, a moment untouched by eyes, promos, or shadowed messages.

so when bron asked if you wanted to grab breakfast before the arena call, you nodded without hesitation.

the place was quiet. some hole in the wall diner off the highway. vinyl booths and chipped mugs. country music playing low from a corner speaker.

you wrapped your hands around a mug of lukewarm coffee and tried to breathe like it wasn’t the first time you’d felt safe in days.

bron sat across from you, hair messy, hoodie pulled up, smiling like he had nothing to prove. like he hadn’t watched you spiral just beneath the surface since last week.

"you gonna tell me what’s going on", he asked, "or am i gonna have to start guessing?"

you raised an eyebrow. "what do you think is going on?"

"i think", he said, stabbing at his pancakes with theatrical frustration, "you’re spending way too much time with that guy, and you’re getting weird."

you laughed. It was forced, but you tried. "it’s a storyline."

"yeah?" he looked at you. really looked. "you sure he knows that?"

"that hit a nerve. you looked away, sipping your coffee.

bron softened. "hey. sorry. i didn’t mean it like that."

"no", you said, voice quiet. "you’re not wrong."

he didn’t push. that was what you loved about him, what made him safe. he didn’t need to fix you. just sit there. steady. solid.

you pulled out your phone eventually. checked it.

no new texts.

relief flickered, strange and unsatisfying.

"god", bron said, mock-offended, "am i boring you already?"

you rolled your eyes, grinning. "just making sure I’m not missing my call time, jackass."

he leaned across the table and snapped a quick selfie before you could stop him. you groaned.

"seriously?"

he grinned at the screen. "smile for the internet. let ‘em know we eat carbs and have feelings."

you were still laughing when he posted it.

and hours later, when the fallout came, you’d regret ever smiling at all.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the selfie went up around noon.

by the time you arrived at the arena, it had over sixty thousand likes.

the caption was harmless, something dumb Bron wrote about pancakes and caffeine and "trying to keep her sane before raw eats her alive."

no tags. no digs. no mention of him.

but you felt the shift the second you stepped backstage.

the crew greeted you like usual. security, camera ops, wardrobe, all smiles and nods. seth passed you with a small wave. becky called your name and pointed you toward the updated run sheet. and bron, already in gear, threw you a wink from across the hall.

but he wasn’t there.

not in gorilla. not outside production. not at the board where tonight’s promos were listed.

and when you asked one of the pas if punk had arrived yet, she just nodded. "yeah, he’s been here an hour. think he’s in his locker."

he wasn’t avoiding the building.

just you.

you found him eventually. sitting in the far corner of the locker room, lacing his boots, hoodie pulled low over his head. alone.

you walked in. waited. didn’t speak yet.

he didn’t look up.

you stepped closer. "hey. did you see the-"

"I’m not in the mood", he said flatly.

you blinked. "okay."

he stood, slow and deliberate. rolled his wrists. still didn’t meet your eyes.

"i’ll be at ringside for your segment", he said. "stick to the script."

you tilted your head. "what’s this about?"

"nothing."

but it wasn’t nothing. it never was.

"punk-"

his eyes snapped up, and finally, finally, they locked on yours.

"i said i’m not in the mood."

the words weren’t shouted.

that’s what made them worse.

you stood there for a beat, frozen. then you turned and walked out faster than you meant to. jaw clenched. breathing sharp.

when you reached the hallway, you checked your phone again. the message was already there.

you looked happiest with him.but he won’t touch you like i will.

you stared at it until the letters blurred.

and for a second, you weren’t sure what made your stomach sink more:

the threat behind it.

or the part of you that felt it wasn’t a threat at all.

just a promise.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you weren’t supposed to be part of the segment tonight.

originally, it was just meant to be a run-in. maybe a backstage shot. nothing live.

but when the updated script was handed to you twenty minutes before airtime, the new match graphic was staring back at you from the board:

NEXT WEEK ON RAW – MIXED TAG MATCHCM PUNK & Y/N vs. BRON BREAKKER & BECKY LYNCH

you froze. looked at the board. then back at the pa.

"this is real?", you asked.

she nodded. "just added. they think the numbers’ll pop. four fan favourites. plus… the heat."

you didn’t need her to say whose heat.

you already felt it burning behind you.

punk hadn’t spoken to you all night. not since the locker room. and now, you’d be paired again, standing side by side in front of thousands… while every raw nerve sat exposed on live television.

you stood just off-camera as becky and bron made their way to the ring. she winked at you before stepping through the curtain. bron gave you a look. protective. quietly annoyed that this was even happening.

you didn’t blame him.

when your cue came, you hit your mark. punk was already at the top of the ramp, waiting.

he didn’t look at you. just walked ahead, hands in fists.

the promo started with Becky.

she was fire, controlled, cool, biting. dragged you for "hiding behind men like punk." called bron "the muscle and the conscience." the crowd ate it up.

then it was bron’s turn. voice sharp. smiling, but only just.

"you’ve been acting different", he said to you, pacing the ring. "letting someone else pull your strings. but next week, we remind you who you are. not who he wants you to be."

another pop.

you held the mic tight.

and when you spoke, it was the most real you’d sounded in weeks. "no one pulls my strings."

the crowd roared.

then punk stepped forward.

his mic raised, posture loose, but his eyes never once left bron.

"see, i used to think you were just a threat", he said slowly. "but threats are sharp. dangerous. you?", he tilted his head. "you’re noise. and when noise gets in the way… it gets cut."

you didn’t know if that was scripted.

the tension was instant.

bron took a step forward. becky’s arm went out across his chest. your hand instinctively touched punk’s forearm, not to hold him back. just to connect. to anchor.

he turned to you at that. slowly.

and into the mic, clear, cold, and unforgiving, he said:

"don’t touch me if you don’t mean it."

the arena fell silent.

for a beat.

then the crowd screamed.

it wasn’t in the script. you knew it. so did becky. so did bron. you saw it in their faces.

but punk? he didn’t look at them. or the crowd.

only at you.

when you left the ring, your heart wouldn’t stop hammering. you didn’t know if it was fear.

or adrenaline.

or the creeping realization that next week’s match would be more dangerous than any storyline ever written.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you didn’t go straight back to the locker room.

you needed a second. just one second where the world wasn’t spinning out from under you. you found it backstage, tucked between a stack of road cases, where the sound of the crowd dimmed to a distant pulse in the concrete.

you barely had a moment to exhale before bron appeared beside you.

"hey" his voice was soft. careful. "you okay?"

you nodded, too quickly.

he didn’t believe it. not for a second.

"i didn’t know about the match until right before", you said quietly.

bron leaned against the wall beside you. "it’s not the match i’m worried about."

you looked at him. he didn’t flinch.

"you feel it too, don’t you?" he asked. "how weird this has gotten?"

you swallowed hard. "it’s just part of the angle. he’s intense."

"that wasn’t intensity out there." bron’s voice sharpened. "that was something else."

you didn’t answer. because you didn’t have to.

footsteps approached from down the hall and becky appeared, unwrapping tape from her wrists. she clocked your expression instantly.

"you look like you’ve been hit by a fucking truck" she said, coming to a stop. "you want to tell me what that was out there?"

"i don’t know", you said.

that was the truth.

becky crossed her arms. "he went off script."

you nodded.

"and you didn’t flinch."

that part caught you off guard. "what?"

"you didn’t flinch", she repeated. "not like someone surprised. more like someone expecting it."

bron’s silence beside you said enough.

you were unravelling, and they both saw it.

"i’m fine", you said, too fast, too soft.

becky didn’t press. but she gave you a look. firm. grounded.

"you don’t have to let it get worse to prove you can handle it."

then she turned and walked away.

bron lingered for a second longer.

"you know where i stand", he said, voice low. "he crosses the line again, you come to me. i don’t care about scripts."

you nodded.

but you didn’t promise.

you couldn’t.

because even as they walked away, and you stood alone again

you felt him.

waiting.

watching.

and you were already walking toward him.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you found him alone.

same spot as always, back of the locker room, away from the others, hoodie still on, head low like the arena noise couldn’t touch him. but you knew better now.

he was waiting.

when you stepped in, he didn’t look up right away. just pulled off his tape, slow and deliberate. the silence coiled tight between you.

you shut the door behind you. you didn’t know why.

"was that necessary?", you asked.

still no eye contact. he peeled the last strip from his wrist and dropped it into the bin.

"what part?" he said eventually. "the line? the match? or the part where your best friends stared at me like they were about to call security?"

you folded your arms. "you went off script."

he laughed once. dry. humourless. "so did you."

that wasn’t true. but the way he said it, you almost believed it.

you took a step closer. "what’s going on with you?"

finally, he looked at you.

and what you saw there made your breath catch.

not anger.

possession.

"you posted a photo with him", he said. calm. terrifyingly calm. "smiling. sitting close. like you wanted people to see it."

"it was breakfast, punk."

his jaw flexed. "it was a message."

you stared at him, disbelieving. "what are you even talking about?"

he stood slowly. walked toward you, not fast, not threatening. just intentional. like every movement was designed to shorten the distance in your head as well as the room.

"you don’t get it yet, do you?" he murmured.

he was close now. too close. the door was behind you, and his shadow was over you.

"i know the way you look at me backstage", he continued. "the way you lean in when we promo. how your breath hitches when i touch your wrist. don’t pretend i imagined that."

your throat tightened. "this isn’t real."

he reached out.

fingers brushed your jaw, barely there. Just enough to make you freeze.

"but it feels real", he whispered. "doesn’t it?"

you should’ve moved. said something. pushed his hand away.

but for one second, one stupid, dangerous second you didn’t.

his thumb dragged across your bottom lip. the touch was featherlight. it burned anyway.

"say the word", he said, voice low. "tell me to stop. mean it."

your heart was pounding too loud to think.

"i-" you started.

he leaned closer.

you turned your face, broke contact, stepped back like the floor burned beneath you.

"no", you said, sharper this time. "not like this."

he let his hand fall.

didn’t chase you.

but his eyes never left yours.

"you’ll come back", he said, quiet. "they always do."

you didn’t answer.

just left the room, door clicking shut behind you.

and even then, even as your hands shook and your chest ached

you weren’t sure if it was fear you felt.

or want.

or both.

[spitefulsatanfics]

=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=

Wings in the Garden

“I used to be an angel. Now, I’m powerless. I’m as weak as a baby deer.”

— Castiel, Season 9, Episode 3: “I’m No Angel”

=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=

Pairing: Castiel x Reader (She/Her)

Tone: Sweet romance, friends to lovers, healing, domestic softness, human!Cas tenderness

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6,221

Written by: Little Devil ♡

Based on: Supernatural Season 9, primarily “I’m No Angel” and “Heaven Can’t Wait”

Synopsis:

After the fall of the angels, Castiel stumbles into humanity—bloodied, quiet, and lost. You’re a hunter with a crooked smile and a soft place to land, offering him shelter in your creaky rental home just outside Lebanon. He calls it temporary. You believe him at first. But as he plants tomatoes and learns to cook your eggs just right, a quiet sort of devotion grows between the two of you—rooted deep in the garden soil, sunlit mornings, and carved initials on an old fence post.

---

Part I: “The First Storm”

Castiel came to you on a rainy Tuesday.

He was soaked through, eyes shadowed and heavy with something unspoken, and when he knocked on your door with a bloodied knuckle and the weight of heaven behind his stare, you didn’t ask questions. You just stepped aside.

“Temporary,” he said hoarsely, dripping on your floorboards. “Just for a night or two.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

A lie. You knew it the moment you gave him the towel. The moment he flinched when the wind whistled through the broken window frame. The moment he accepted the flannel shirt you handed him and stared at it like it held the secrets of the universe.

He stayed.

You lived in a patchy little house on the edge of nowhere, a fifteen-minute drive from the Men of Letters bunker. Close enough to help when Sam and Dean needed you. Far enough to keep your own ghosts company in peace.

The next morning, you found Castiel on the porch. The rain had stopped, and the sun was crawling over the hills like it was shy. Cas sat with a chipped mug of coffee—he hadn’t even drunk it—and stared out at the patch of dry dirt by the fence.

“I want to plant something,” he said.

You blinked sleep out of your eyes. “Plant what?”

“Vegetables,” he said. “Something useful.”

He turned to look at you, squinting like he was still getting used to light, like he didn’t quite believe in sunrises.

“I want to feel useful.”

---

⇢ ° • . ✿ . • ° ⇠

---

Part II: “Shoelaces and Tomatoes”

You taught Castiel how to tie his shoes.

It happened on a Tuesday. (Tuesdays, it seemed, were becoming sacred.) You knelt on the porch, hands brushing over canvas laces while he watched intently, furrowed brow and all.

“Loop, swoop, and pull,” you explained.

He mimicked you slowly, clumsy but focused, as if this act—this silly little human ritual—was sacred. When he succeeded, he looked up at you like he’d performed magic.

He got dirt under his nails after that. You let him tear up the grass patch near the fence, turning the soil, making neat little rows. He read books on gardening. Sam dropped off seedlings one day, side-eyeing you both but saying nothing.

“Don’t say it,” you muttered, watching Cas talk to a tomato plant like it was a holy relic.

Sam just grinned and drove off.

Castiel insisted on cooking dinner on Thursdays. You let him. Burnt eggs became scrambled ones, scrambled became edible, and soon he was making pasta that tasted like love.

Sometimes, you came home from a hunt, bruised and bloodied, and he’d already have the bath drawn and a grilled cheese waiting. He wasn’t flashy with affection. He was practical. Steady. Warm.

You never touched.

But sometimes, when he passed behind you in the kitchen, his hand would brush your back. Just lightly. Like a whisper.

---

⇢ ° • . ✿ . • ° ⇠

---

Part III: “Fence Post Confessions”

The garden grew. So did everything else.

By June, the tomatoes were thriving. The cucumbers too. And Cas—he had freckles now. You didn’t even notice them until he looked up at you one evening, sweat beading his brow, shirt sticking to his chest in the Kansas heat.

You laughed and reached to wipe his face. He went very still, watching you like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to look.

“Thank you,” he said.

You blinked. “For what?”

“For… this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the world. “For letting me be. For not asking me to be anything else.”

Your throat felt tight.

“It’s not charity,” you said. “You’re not broken.”

He smiled faintly. “I think I am. But I like how you don’t see it.”

That night, you couldn’t sleep. The window was open, breeze curling the curtains, and you heard movement outside. You slipped on a hoodie and stepped into the night.

Cas was at the fence post with a pocket knife. Carving.

You froze.

He turned, looking caught. “I was… I wanted to mark this. It’s something humans do, yes? When they want to remember a moment?”

You stepped closer, and your breath caught.

There it was:

C + Y/N

Rough, uneven, perfect.

You didn’t speak. Just reached up and touched his jaw. He leaned into it like he’d been waiting his whole life to be touched.

“Stay,” you whispered. “Don’t make it temporary.”

“I already decided that,” he said softly. “I just didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

You kissed him.

He kissed you back like he’d never get another chance.

And in the quiet hum of the garden, under stars and mosquito buzz, you let the moment bloom.

=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=

“I never needed wings to fall for you.”

— Wings in the Garden

Written by Little Devil ♡

=°=°=°=°=°=°=°=

[skibasyndrome]

please do the prompt 37: "aw, poor baby, do you want me to take care of this for you?"

with Simon teasing Wille and Wille being all quietly needy and whimpering 🙏🙏🙏

Thank you so much for sending me this prompt, dearest anon!!! 💜💜💜 Also thank you to everyone who voted in my poll for what to write next! Once again, it's Sunday and I have no snippet, so have this ficlet instead.

So sorry this took a while to get to, but I'm slowly working my way through the prompts. I hope you enjoy this one hehe, I had fun writing this!

cw: nsfw

Wille lets out a ragged puff of air, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. He's too impatient, he knows, god, he knows, but he can't help it. He can't find the right angle, wrist starting to ache where he's wedged his hand in between his propped up legs.

It's not... none of this is working the way it's supposed to, he can't twist his fingers in the way he wants to, can't reach far enough in this position. The position he chose himself so he wouldn't have to avert his eyes from Simon. He lets out a quiet whine and reopens his eyes. A small pang hits his chest when he finds Simon staring at him already, head slightly inclined now, a contemplative smile only just curving his lips. Fuck. Wille needs him, needs him so bad, had been waiting for him to come home ever since he slipped out the door in the morning, has been feeling out of it ever since, chest tight, thoughts swirling and jumping and leaving no space for him to think about anything but finally getting out of his head. He pulls his two fingers out, shakes out his wrist, tries again. It's a little easier now, yes, not easy enough though. He knows Simon will make him do it again if he stops now, if he tries to cut this part short, will make him continue fingering himself open, will make sure he's thorough with it before Wille can get anywhere near having Simon fuck him. Wille wants to scream into a pillow, and it's his own fault he chose to lie on his back instead and can't. Across from him, down by the foot of the bed, Simon is kneeling, has been kneeling there for longer than Wille can even begin to comprehend, and with every single lazy tug he gives to his cock Wille digs his teeth harder into his bottom lip. He wants his hand there, he wants to be stroking him, he wants to swallow his cock down, he wants to have Simon turn him onto his stomach and fuck him into the mattress. It feels deeply unfair that he has to bother with prepping himself, that he doesn't get to touch, that he barely gets a good look at Simon. That Simon sits there, like he's bored, waiting until Wille finally is ready for him. Hands all by himself, because he knows he would only distract Wille with them. Because he knows Wille would forget all about his task, would lean into his touch instead. If he weren't so set on doing what Simon so sweetly asked him to earlier, with his breath warm and his grip on Wille's hair deliciously tight, a smile on his lips when he asked if Wille could be good, and patient, and get ready - if he didn't have his mind set on proving that he can, he'd have given up already. But with every passing second, with every time he needs to shift around, needs to reapply lube, needs to crane his neck so he can better see what he can't have just yet, it's getting more difficult. His back is damp with sweat, his fringe sticking to his forehead and even when he twists his fingers again, too impatient, wanting to get this over with, it's nothing like when Simon does it. No matter how much he tries, it's nothing alike. The stretch is not enough, his fingers aren't moving smoothly enough. Even when he wraps a fist around his cock, waned slightly now compared to when he desperately ground it against Simon's thigh earlier, it's not enough. He could scream. Without warning, Wille feels a hand on his knee.

His head perks up, eyes landing on Simon. He's leaned forward, has apparently scooted closer, eyes still trained on where Wille is clumsily working his fingers in and out of himself. When he looks up, gaze meeting Wille’s, there’s a glint of mischief there. Wille swallows hard, feels the dryness of his throat and the faint beginnings of wetness on his lash line. Simon moves his hand, slowly rubbing a warm palm over Wille's propped up knee, fingers extending towards his straining thigh. It takes all of Wille's remaining strength not to pull his fingers out and surge forward, not to tug Simon down and on top of him. He bites down harder on his lip. "Oh baby…," Simon coos, eyes raking up the length of his body and down again. The sound goes right to Wille's cock, makes it twitch weakly in his grip. There's a taunting lilt to Simon's voice, like he can't quite believe Wille can't do it. It makes Wille want to whine and thrash and complain, but, god, does it also pool dangerously hot behind his navel. Instead of doing anything, he watches, absolutely enthralled, how Simon keeps petting his leg. He skates his hand along Wille's shin, then back up, over his thigh, getting so close to his cock that Wille's heart skips a beat. He can almost feel Simon's fingers on him, in him, thinks his curse is going to be lifted, but Simon tuts. "You can't make it work, can you?" The taunt wedges itself into Wille's mind, sharp and searing like a bullet. Dropping his head, he lets out a helpless groan. His face buns red-hot with shame-drenched arousal. Almost fully hard again, fuck, just from this, just from Simon talking… Wille involuntarily squirms under Simon’s watchful eyes. His movements have stilled completely, the immobility almost making Simon’s gaze more piercing, Wille’s cheeks even redder. But even with his mind and body betraying him, he's stubbornly hesitant to admit defeat. As if he can tell, as if he knows, Simon’s face of put-upon pity cracks, lets a cheeky smile slip. The anticipation nearly has Wille’s pulse skip over itself. “Hmmm?” Simon hums then, and moves his hand further, onto Wille’s arm. Wille’s breath catches inside of his throat, like the touch has frozen him in time. Soft fingertips are tracing down his arm, over the back of his hand, over his knuckles, carefully avoiding Wille’s cock. Keeping the distance of Wille’s own hand between them at all times. It’s like Wille can hear his resolve cracking in real time. “This isn’t doing it for you, is it?” Wille’s eyes slip closed against his volition, breath noisy when he blows it out through his nose. Fuck. Very slowly, he shakes his head 'no'.

Suddenly, Simon slips his hand further down. He traces Wille’s curled wrist, brushes over the tendons of his hand. And then he’s there, and Wille briefly forgets how to breathe. Simon’s fingers are lined up with Wille’s, gently petting where Wille has failed to open himself up for him, where Wille’s fingers are still holding space, just rubbing the slick skin, almost absentmindedly. Wille whimpers so loudly that Simon uses his other hand on his thigh to soothe him. God, Wille needs him so badly, thinks he’s going to burst into tears if Simon doesn’t do something about it. “Aw, my poor baby…,” Simon purrs, sweet and soft and with a devastating confidence that has Wille throbbing in his own grip again. He keeps massaging Wille’s rim with deft fingers, keeps working around Wille’s cramped up hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Words escape Wille, whines and broken moans and tiny movements of his hips the only way he’s able to take what Simon is offering. And he’s so greedy to take, so desperate for more, for everything. “Do you want me to take care of this for you?" When Wille nods wildly, tongue unwilling to form words, it’s like finally pulling the ripcord. Simon is quick to gentle Wille’s fingers out of himself, to shove his hand out of the way. The loud snap of a bottle cap, the slick sounds of him lubing up his fingers, and finally, finally, Simon is easing two of his fingers into Wille. Perfectly thick, angled just right, moving just slow enough to draw a string of needy noises out of Wille. He can feel his own cock hardening rapidly. Just as he’s about to warn Simon, about to promise he’s ready, beg for what he’s been waiting for all day, Simon shifts and lies down next to Wille, warm and smooth and hard against Wille’s hipbone. "Just have to ask, baby," Simon mumbles, moving his fingers even more slowly now, shallowly, like he knows Wille can already take him. Like he still wants to make him squirm and wait.  "I know this is difficult for you." His breath is hot against Wille's ear. His fingers unrelenting. "But you need to ask when you can't do it yourself. Need to let me help you." Wille nods weakly, throat dry from all his breathy gasps. "Yeah," he sobs, canting his hips for Simon to get better access, to go- oh. "Y-eah," he gasps again, breath leaving his lungs all at once when Simon nudges his fingers against that devastatingly sensitive spot inside of him. He tightens his fist around his cock, tries to reel back from the edge Simon has pushed him to. Then, “please”, he manages, voice cracking and eyes squeezed shut. With a last teasing drag of his fingers, Simon pulls back and away from Wille’s panting body, leaving his mind spinning, his muscles twitching. But when he hears the bottle cap again, the tell-tale slickness of Simon’s fist flying over himself, Wille feels his body relax against the mattress. Knows that Simon will take care of him.

Feel free to send me some prompts from that list, or just make some up <3 Or read my other ficlets here

also pls let me know what you think <3

[cometconmain]

All the people with prostate cancer who may have been made to feel like you think their cancer was somehow 'deserved,' given you think people you've decided are bad 'deserve it.'

This is a reminder to all you devolved primitive assholes out there to keep your vitriol focused on what someone has done, never their body or race or gender or ability or health status etc.

Also, 71million people voted for Trump, with millions more 'protest voting' or sitting on their hands crying the not-literal-fascist party wasn't good enough to put back in power, effectively crowdsurfing Biden to Trump with those keys but then getting mad at me for saying so because no one wants to admit they have agency when they fuck up a choice between complete-fascist-descent and this-country-still-sucks-and-we-fight-for-every-scrap-but-at-least-we-have-room-to-fight.

America sucks and you have a 2-party option voting system where anything not sent to them disappears into the aether. You can criticise politicians for being asshole idiots, but kindly stop acting like massive numbers of you didn't actively choose to 'stick it to the Dems' then blame Biden for everything. Blame him for what he did, sure, but not to the point of refusing to acknowledge your part in it if you were someone who didn't vote (not were tricked or forced out of it by Republican bullshit suppressing you; actively chose not to vote) or voted for independent or third party because Fuck The Dems. You're not 100% responsible for the actions of your politicians, but you are still somewhat responsible for who got in actually, because that's how a no-preference-system 2party voting system works.

Now you have two choices: recognise you have agency and fucked yourselves and the rest of the world even when the rest of the world told you to just vote your shitty but not complete fascist party into power to beat Trump and then keep fighting to make them do better and make sure you fucking vote NotTheFascists next time OR, you can pick up all your guns and carry out the glorious revolution so many of you insist will be more effective than boring old using-what-voting-power-you-did-have-no-matter-how-much-you-bitched-about-it political approaches, and see how far you get trying to fight one of the most powerful fucked up militaries and most kitted out violent police institutions on the whole goddamn planet.

Once again, your choice. Hint: take some responsibility and use what little power you have next time. And if you try to argue with me I will block you. I don't have time or energy to explain why all of us who are saying 'you have agency and we expect you to fucking recognise and use it next time' is not 'everything Trump does is your fault' actually.

BIDEN HAS PROSTATE CANCER LETS GOOOOOO

[raynavan]

Hi recently i read ur fic "bat tunnels" and you mentioned you have thoughts but not enough to write more, and that readers are (and i quote) "free to poke me about it on my tumblr tho!"

i would like to hear the thoughts

Bat tunnels!! This is actually just one of the Many fics I have with Ingo turning into some sort of Pokémon- and by far the shortest haha. Even if that's only because I wasn’t sure how to handle the subsequent events. I have a Lot of fics I’m chipping away at atm 

(This turned into a bit more of a ramble than I was expecting. Whoops.) 

Anyway- big thing I wasn’t sure how to explain was why Ingo is a pokemon in the first place. Arceus knew that humans can’t travel through time and space very well, and Arceus didn’t want him to like. Forget everything a second time. But Pokémon are notably more hardy! So, turning Ingo into a Gliscor seemed like the best solution. 

It’s temporary but 'temporary' for a human and 'temporary' for a being that has lived since before time is Very Different (and maybe Arceus thinks being a Pokémon for a bit isn’t to bad)

Also, re the alpha status: being an alpha has more to do with being particularly experienced in battle/ a will to protect. so.

Arceus just thought “Oh, natural law says you would have become an alpha.” and thus Ingo was made into an alpha.

Alphas aren’t exactly born, though having a parent that is an alpha can increase the chances of becoming one. Just because being surrounded / raised by a really good / experienced fighter is a huge advantage. 

Ingo beats up kids for fun on the battle subway and is completely merciless in the paths of solitude. He is a Very experienced fighter in the technical sense, even if for a bit he struggles to harness that power. 

In that sense, Emmet was pretty spot on with assuming Ingo was a Gligar that evolved too soon. Not that Ingo actually evolved per se, but his situation is very much like giving a level 5 gligar 95 rare candies and a razor fang. Also he’s still getting used to his body.

(For the record, yes he knows earthquake.) 

On that note, Ingo probably. Would not be able to battle on the subway. Not without it being a very strong opponent. With his lack of skill, he has absolutely No Idea how to pull his punches. Also Emmet would feel verrrry uncomfortable putting him in a pokeball- Ingo feels similarly. 

Ingo’s gliscor might enjoy it after being tested and vaccinated though haha. Tho they might be busy assisting Ingo with being gliscor shaped himself. Especially when Ingo immediately tried to get back to work- not on the lines but administrative work. Unfortunately holding a pen is rather hard with pincers- and even harder when he struggles to adjust his grip strength. 

The carnage is vast. Many good pens were lost under the claws of a very embarrassed ingo. (Emmet appreciates the effort)

It is temporary though and he will be back to normal eventually. Emmet just has to be very careful about not mentioning that the weirdly large gliscor that followed him out of the tunnels is his brother. His reputation already took a hit after his brother’s initial disappearance- he doesn’t need them questioning his mental health about something he can’t prove. 

(Thankfully Ingo wants to stick by Emmet's side while he’s still in the shape of a gliscor- so usually it’s other people asking about him and Emmet just pointing or saying “this one” when referring to him. Ingo gets the nickname “Boss” for a bit! Both Ingo and Emmet find it funny.) 

once he’s human again Ingo still has a few habits left over- he looks exactly the same as he once did though. His hearing is better (back to normal human levels without the hearing loss he got working with heavy machinery) and he has a tendency to hiss/chirp to convey things. The last one there is actually just something he picked up after living alone in the mountains with a bunch of cat weasel things. His body language and movements are a bit off for a while, because he Just got used to dealing with a tail and wings and now he has to go back to human arms and legs. 

Overall things generally just. Go back to normal after a period of adjustment. Ingo and Emmet get to keep running the battle subway and gliscor is sometimes featured on the super singles line. 

That’s… all I can think of right now! Absolutely feel free to ask more specific questions! 

[delopsia]

Happy belated birthday! And I hope you enjoy Thunderbolts!

I forgot what you fuckin called it but a drabble with Robert Reynolds titled “it’s not a phase mom” (get it cause he is the darkness lmfaoo) 💜

omg this got lost in my inbox?? 😭 I have no idea how I didn't see it until now. I took this as a chance to play around with some different elements of Void that have been sitting in my head for a bit. Not quite sure what I think of it yet, but it was fun to toy with ⭐Join my Starlight Stampede Event! ⭐

Moonbeam Barrel Racing — Choose your rider(s) and a title, and I'll give you a short drabble

"It's a bit late for an emo phase, don't you think?" You chirp, perched on the edge of the counter like a little bird, watching the scene unfold.

"It's not…a phase!" Bob's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, bubbling for words that aren't coming to him. "It's not on /purpose, he just won't buzz off."

The frustration here is the only thing you know how to resolve, wordlessly opening your arms for him to settle into. "Are you sure nothing is bugging you?"

"Yeah," humming, he thinks his head against your shoulder, "I was having a pretty good day before this."

"Forget your medicine?" You're running through the list of reminders that hang from the fridge. Different colored sticky notes and decorative magnets, a little collage of color to take away from the stress of building a new routine.

But Bob just shakes his head. "Took it on time."

Well, that marks off your only idea.

"So Void is just here?" Steady, your fingers comb through his hair. It's perfectly split down the middle, brown on the left side, pitch black on the right, the kind of shade that hungrily swallows up every ray of light that reaches it. Void's trademark shade.

"I guess?" Bob withdraws just far enough to look at you. From this close, you can see the subtle differences, the significantly darker shade of blue in his right eye, the faint glow of white in his pupil. The left is nothing but clear skies, the classic pale blue that you've become so familiar with.

"Would Void like to talk about it, or is this a universal loss for all parties involved?" You ask, stroking a thumb over his cheek. You know full well that both Robert and Void are the same person, but for reasons unbeknownst to you, addressing Void directly will draw out the occasional answer. It's a method about as reliable as throwing the whole pot of spaghetti at the wall to see if it's done. It either sticks or it doesn't.

Gold emerges from the center of his eyes. /Someone is coming out to play here, but which part of Bob it is, you're not sure. Nothing happens. Nobody is levitating. The room doesn't spin into a small tornado. Lightning doesn't strike the neighbor's truck again. The power doesn't even flicker.

…why are you thinking about pizza?

"When was the last time you ate?" You can't believe you didn't think of that sooner.

"Breakfast," a hint of realization flickers through his eye. "…yesterday."

"I think we've found our problem."

[years-of-minecraft]

Some design rough drafts!

(Design Rant below)

I’m not sure if I like the tattoo, but my idea for it was that Aph is visibly different with magic residue essentially dripping off her (that’s what the hands are too). The void on the back and stomach also come from the idea that Aph isn’t whole and is missing a part of her soul. I know she already has tattoos, but since we never got to the explicit meaning of them, I wanted something with a little bit more weight. I might go back to canon later, but for now I’m gonna stick with this

I looked up “purple fantasy aesthetic” on Pinterest and honestly I think using that as inspiration is nothing short of a banger idea

Royal Purple/indigo for Irene -> Lilac for a distilled divinity fragment named Aphmau

Apparently (So far as Google tells me) Aphmau means “chronic warrior” or “chronic insomnia” which I honestly think fits her character and could inspire some fun quirks later on

I based her skirt on the renaissance fair skirts I see that you can snatch up into hoops. So that’s what those are

Colors are subject to change