#So hard to keep things short

[rakunoko]

you should tell us what kind of songs you like so we can hear them and think of you!

Oh man, that is a rather tricky thing to do, hahaha. My comfort artists are Imagine Dragons (I've been listening to them since they started all that time ago—not one song they don't have, I don't know about. My favorite albums are Night Visions and Smoke and Mirrors. Both bring me comfort and yet make me sad with nostalgia) and David Bowie. Recently, Wallows has become an artist I have come to love because the feeling their music gives me is a sort of melancholic coziness/nostalgia. I literally cannot get enough of their stuff. You also cannot go wrong with Depeche Mode, but it's hard to choose a fav of theirs. As for Queen, tho, my favorite song of theirs is 'Killer Queen' and 'Good Ol' Fashion Lover Boy.' Hell, even Nickleback is a good choice (Yes, I listen to them and have since I was young. I love them and wish to see them live, but all their shows are in Canada at the moment) As for actual songs, some of my favs (since there are too many and I am on the spot, so aaa) are: -As the World Falls Down -David Bowie (I am weak for this song. You have NO idea how bad it is. If you need a song to associate with me, it is this one) -Leon's Theme -from Castlevania: Lament of Innocence (Literally ANY Castlevania tune will be repeated, especially if it's from SOTN. Castlevania is my LIFE fr)-Merry Go Round of Life -Joe Hisaishi -These Days -Wallows -Sidelines -Wallows -Witch Image -Ghost -Rats -Ghost -Dense Macabre -Ghost -Round and Round -Imagine Dragons (Or really any song off the Delux Edition of Night Visions) -Good Grief -Bastille -Surfin' USA -Beach Boys -California Dreamin' -The Mamas and the Papas -Tough to be a God -El Dorado and the cover by Johnathan Young I also have a playlist of songs that make me cry from love because they make me think of my dad/found fam, which includes: -I'm Happy -Imagine Dragons -Deus in Absentia -Ghost -Instant Sunshine -Luke Million and LAU -Family -Mother Mother -You're My best friend -Queen -Friends -Band of Skulls Lately, my earworm has been Tainted Love/Where Did Our Love Go and Bad Medicine cuz UGHA so fucking good. Though TBF, my music taste is ALL over the place. I love listening to music from the 50s to the early/mid-2000s and sometimes video game music/scores, though I mainly enjoy 80s music. I love the rock there and all the yummy synth sounds they have, which is no surprise if you have seen my blog aesthetic or even my art over at @wonderlandjester (Sounds such as the sounds in We Built This City by Starships). But you can't ever go wrong with someone like Marty Robbins, Johnny Cash, Beach Boys, or even Dean Martin. (Which fun fact: the only thing to get me to stop fussing as a baby was Dean Martin's 'That's Amore' hehe) So yes, if you care, dearest anon, if you want to know my genre(s), mainly rock and all its subcategories: classic, Indie, Pop, and Punk. Because let's face it, punk rock is everything, hahaha. And Synth/Electronic. I eat that shit UPPP and keep a synth playlist saved on Spotify for a reason yahahaha. Sorry if I rambled, but I just enjoy music so much, and it's nice to share words about the kinds I like, even if I am a bit anxious to share them irl with people. DMS are open if you ever want me to share some songs, too!

[problemnyatic]

Look, the bottom line is this. You're gonna be wrong and fuck up sometimes, that's just how being human works. No matter what you mean or how much you care, sometimes, you're gonna do something or say something that hurts someone or perpetuates bigotry you don't believe in.

The goal isn't to do no wrong, that's an impossible standard. The mark of "a good person" isn't that they always do good, it's that they're willing to admit when they've failed, done wrong, made a mistake, and they're willing to course-correct when they do.

It's important that you're trying. It's okay to be the bad guy. You don't need to get defensive, you don't need to stake your identity in "person who never does that kind of wrong." You just gotta be able to say "Fuck, my bad, I'm sorry," accept that your behavior didn't reflect your beliefs, and change your behavior so that it better represents who you mean to be.

The less time you spend lingering on whether it feels like people believe you are who you say you are, the more time you can spend getting better at being that person.

Some people will try to tear you down when you make mistakes, they'll try to pigeonhole you as a "bad person," someone whose very existence is defined by doing harm. This isn't your problem, and it's not your responsibility to prove anything to them. They don't have to believe you, and you don't have to appease them. So long as you're willing to accept when you *do* hurt someone, intentional or not, and you're willng to put in the effort to make reparations and change, you'll never "be a bad person."

Let yourself fuck up. All you have to do is course-correct when you notice your actions' impact have strayed from your intentions. The right people will notice that effort, and they'll be proud of you. And perhaps most importantly of all, they'll let you make that effort. Anyone who tells you it's too late to change, to discourage you from improving, or stop you from trying, is not your frend. You don't have to impress them. Ignore them, and let yourself change.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

guhh i need to snuggle with Foul Legacy in a quiet room surrounded by blankets and pillows, tucked in close against him. his claws are on your head, gently patting your hair and holding you protectively, trying to block out all of the bad things in life and the world. you're tired. so, so tired from everything. it's been overwhelming lately, your days hectic and nights heavy and sad. Legacy worries about you, gently whining and nudging your shoulders and helping you drink some water or tea. you're not sick, right? you don't seem to be coughing or short of breath. perhaps your brain is being cruel to you, telling you awful things. he knows the feeling.

so Foul Legacy cuddles around you carefully, running his talons delicately over your back. he's here for you, during these days when you're on the verge of shutting down. he'll chase away every nasty, horrible thought your mind conjures up against your will, even if it takes him an eternity, even if it never goes away completely because it might make it a little bit better, and that's more than nothing at all.

Legacy makes sure that you know that you will always, always be loved.

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 

Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

this one's for all the yuri enjoyers out there — nsft under cut

meronia event prompt(s): scar

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

[laugtherhyena]

Sometimes i think about how Ayame's hair is really long in her adult design,,

I like to think that with everyone joining the foundation and the tragedy still going wild out there, during the first like 6 months to an year after escaping the kg (an adaptation period of sorts?) Ayame got so busy with missions and training that a lot of other things became a blur. She didn't even notice how long her hair was getting until someone else pointed it out, and by that point she decides to just leave it be.

[drpicklesart]

they are going to mehnahnaroo

[emile-hides]

No I'm not going to get over the fact that they put Pearl in Leather Daddy gear, next question

[howdoyousleep3]

11. “Louder. Let me hear you.” IS SCREAMING SENATOR/INTERN

Hell yeah. ❤️‍🔥 Tags: established relationship, manhandling, anal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, hinted at exhibitionism, daddy kink Word Count: 811

Bucky feels like he’s drowning.

Each breath is a gasp, his lungs desperate for the oxygen he’s purposely depriving himself of in order to muffle his noises. The pillow he bites into does very little to assist him in this matter, yet it feels good to bite down on something, to put something in his mouth.

Always forced to be quiet, always forced to hide. Secrets, secrets, secrets.

Never out of his head entirely, always leaving one foot within the clearer parts of his mind. He can count on one hand the times he’s been able to leave his mind in full, the times he’s not anxious about the what ifs, the risks.

Always good though, always as good as he can be for Daddy. Always—

A smack on his ass, sharp and stinging, forces his eyes to water, forces his teeth to clench. He chokes on his wail, chokes down the greedy moan that forces its way up and out of his throat. His dick aches where it’s trapped against the sheets, ignored and throbbing from the friction of Steve’s thrusts.

Another slap then, smack, right atop the first one, followed by a dig of the senator’s hips. It stretches his rim out around Steve’s girth even further, as if the senator is trying to impossibly force his cock further into Bucky’s body. He can feel the older man in his throat, feels as if his ass isn’t the only hole being brutalized.

Steve lets out the noise Bucky wishes he could, the depth and emotion of it nearly rattling Bucky’s own teeth.

“I didn’t bring you all the way out here…to shove your face into a pillow and just take it.”

Steve takes a pause from riding Bucky into the mattress and leans down, blanketing himself over Bucky’s backside. And it’s as if the senator can’t help himself, as if the temptation of being inside of Bucky is too much, because even then his hips rock.

Bucky’s eyes roll easily back into his head.

Fingers slip through his hair, tugging, yanking his head back and pulling the pillow free from his teeth.“You think I brought you into my home so you could cry into my pillows?” Bucky can feel the smile on Steve’s lips press against the shell of his ear. “Don’t get me wrong—you know I love it when this dick makes you cry. But if you don’t start wakin’ up my neighbors, I’m gonna call you a fuckin’ Uber, boy.”

Bucky listens blindly, obeys in the exact manner that makes the senator’s dick hard—immediately.

His groan feels more than just a noise; it feels like a release.

He embraces the way it grates against the front of his throat, leans into the feeling of embarrassment when the desperation of the noise hits his ears. His breaths are distorted noises, pleading and ugly, ones that jolt and bounce in time with Steve’s thrusts. With the noises he lets out, Bucky almost mourns for the loss of the lewd noises of his ass being fucked, almost wishes he could hear them again even if they make his cheeks heat up and his eyes well up with tears.

But once the first moan is out of his mouth, he’s unable to stop.

And once he’s unable to stop is when the senator seems the most satisfied, his own noises hitting a more feral pitch.

Satisfied but never not greedy.

“That’s it. Louder. Let me hear you, baby.”

Always the listener, always obedient, Bucky moans. “Daddy…Daddy!” He gets a hand wrapped around the front of his throat for his troubles, for being good. He hopes Steve can feel the rasp of his groan against his palm. The senator pulls his hips back further, gives him longer strokes, digs his cock into Bucky harder.

“Yeah, there it is. Ain’t anybody here gonna get’chu in trouble for getting a senator’s dick all wet. You can be as loud as you want here.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky pants, shouts. “The senator’s…dick. Get his dick all wet.” Bucky hiccups, whining as he reaches for one of Steve’s fingers to suck into his mouth. “Steve…Steve, it feels so good.”

Bucky’s certain he’s wailing.

“Fuck yeah, Buck. Pussy feels so goddamn good. Gotta let Daddy know you love it, gotta be loud as fuck for it.”

Bucky just repeats what he’s hearing, making noise feeling too good to question the words he’s saying. “Pussy feels…feels so good. Gotta let…oh god, gotta let Daddy know.”

Steve’s guttural groan into his neck almost feels better than letting out his own.

“Fuck, baby. You get the cops called on us and I’ll double your pay, triple it. Want the neighbors thinkin’ you’re dyin’ in here. C’mon, honey. Gimme that pussy.”

Always good, always as good as he can be for Daddy.

“Give Daddy this pussy.”

“Good fuckin’ boy…”

[ratatatastic]

lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall

idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...

to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"

but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics

"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"

and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."

But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-

And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"

and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really

Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)

And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.

and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)

And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*

but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)

and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far

"You should really use your words."

"I am!"

"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."

"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"

"Sasha isn't most Alphas."

"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."

"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.

"It would work better if you use—"

"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.

like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know

[001139]

a story about a flight instructor who hallucinates his dead student

[bacchuschucklefuck]

literally figured sorcerer!kristen's freshman year design out the moment I sat down and attempted to brainstorm (rubs hands together fly style) we eatin good today boys

[seriousturd]

Ellis Mayfield is giving you a Thumbs Up!

[moments-divins]

i’m so overwhelmed by things that shouldn’t be overwhelming...

[canisalbus]

just a quick ask to tell u it makes me super happy seeing the detail u go into when pointing out stuff u like about other people's art of ur ocs :3 it's so rare to see but it's so so motivating!! <3

Thank you! I don't take any interest for my art for granted, and if someone goes through the trouble of drawing my characters for me, I feel like trying to write a proper response is the least I can do. For a visually oriented person, receiving gift/fan art is a huge deal, it means someone considered my goobers worth their time and effort, they've probably been thinking about them more than a little and found them inspiring in a way or another, and I find that terribly flattering. It's extremely fun and interesting to see other people's takes on them. And I've drawn stuff for people as well, I know how nice and rewarding it feels to receive a response that is longer than a word or two. Positive comments like that can linger in people's minds for a long time, at least for me they do.