#The siblings being a goddamn family!

[lord-cornmont]

rewatching the first season of HOTD is so hard when you have a big family……….JUST SAY “I LOVE YOU” TO EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!! JUST SAY “I LOVE YOU!!” AND MEAN IT!!!! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!! HUG EACH OTHER AND TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THEM

[misspermitted]

For personal reasons and because I loathe generalisations I hate the analysis of Vi and Jinx as the dynamic of “classic older sister takes on too much weight and younger sister is immature.”

However, Vi and Jinx are, in my opinion, a scrumptious example of the trauma bonded sibling dynamic: dangerously self-aware sibling versus emotionally constipated sibling.

What is this dynamic you ask? Well:

Dangerously self-aware sibling

Deals with their trauma by trying to fix the world, because they see their trauma everywhere and are so mad watching others turn into them. They desperately want to stop the cycle but feel powerless to do so because they can never be the "correct" person to change the world. They're already ruined! So they put other “better” people that could change the world on an unmeetable pedestal. They can’t actually have close connections because they distance everyone from them in this way. The people they meet inevitably fall from the pedestal - leading to a constant sense of betrayal and isolation and growing disdain towards people in general.

Meanwhile emotionally constipated sibling

Deals with their trauma by trying to fix people, because they are physically incapable of not blaming themselves for the trauma, so believe they can protect the people they care about from the same fate by fixing the people to not be as inherently flawed as themselves. The obsession with fixing people leads to single minded focus and devotion to their projects as they repeatedly debase themselves for them. But because of the unequal power dynamic now they’re being abused by the object of their devotion? Growing frustration, why isn’t the person being fixed properly? They bathe in self loathing. It must be their fault for not being a good enough sister/friend/lover. Repeat ad infinitum.

[mars-ipan]

GODDD.

[vile-wizard]

.

[rigginsstreet]

My mother acts like it’s crazy that me and my brother aren’t friends like there’s a 7 year age difference we have literally zero things in common the only thing tying us together is blood relationship but I’m a horrible person for like not wanting to be up his ass. Sorry but family relation has never equated to a bond to me and maybe that’s a mental thing we need to get checked out but like I’m perfectly fine living my life this way. He’s my brother. It don’t need to go any deeper than that

[rosamariaa]

Wish I could enjoy jilypad but I can’t see sirius and lily together like… at all

[jeepers-scoob]

I love when I'm suddenly having a response to the trauma I have when I thought I've been over it 😔

[redsray]

i do love the idea of the wayne kids giving bernard shovel talks about taking care of tim and all that but also give me batfam who are just as protective of bernard as they are of each other.

give me bernard, attending his first wayne gala as tim's significant other. having a suit custom tailored and funded by bruce even if bernard insists it's not necessary because he already has one. arriving at the gala anxious because of course he is, it's a goddamn socialite event, but being protected from every side by the wayne kids even when tim is dragged away.

Socialite: Oh, and who might you be?

Bernard: Oh, um, hi. I'm Bernard Dowd, nice to meet you.

Socialite: Dowd? I've never heard of your family before. Who...?

Bernard: I'm not here with my family, miss, I'm here with my boyfriend.

Socialite: ... Boyfriend?

Bernard: Yeah, I'm here with Tim.

Socialite, frowning: Tim... as in Drake-Wayne? He has a boyfriend?

Dick, coming up next to Bernard: He sure does! Bernard here is practically one of ours now, aren't you? He matters to Timmy, so he matters to us.

Bernard: Dick—

Dick: C'mon, let's get you back to Timmy. Farewell, Mrs!

Bernard: I could've handled that.

Dick: All the rules that apply to my siblings during galas apply to you too. I'm sure you could've, but you shouldn't have to. I've got your back too, now, yeah?

Bernard: ... Yeah. Thanks, Dick.

Jason, coming up to Bernard at the bar: Not to freak you out, kid, but there's a guy starin' at ya from the other side of the bar. Y'know him or should I encourage him to look away?

Bernard, startled: Huh? (looks around) Oh. No, I don't know him. Why... is he looking at me like that, actually?

Jason, scowling: 'S just how the slimy fuckers at these events are. Can't keep their eyes off anything that's small, young or pretty. Disgusting. I'll deal with him— where's your annoying other half gone, inferior blondie?

Bernard: Tim? He got pulled away for quote; 'something important' by some lady. He said he'll meet me here after he's done, so I've been waiting.

Jason: Huh. If I see him I'll point him yer way. Hey, don't be 'fraid to ask any of us questions or for help if ya need it. We know the best how daunting this shit can be.

Bernard, genuinely touched: ... Thanks, Jason.

Jason: Yeah, yeah. Don't tell Timmers I said that, though, he'll call me a loser.

Bernard, laughing: I won't.

Bernard, being talked to by several people at once and a bit overwhelmed by the attention: Uh— I'm—

Damian, stepping between him and the socialites: Dowd. I require your assistance.

Bernard: Um— hi, Damian— with what?

Damian: You will see when we get there. Follow me, Drake's more tolerable half.

Bernard: Okay... so what do you need from me?

Damian: Nothing. You seemed to dislike the attention from all of the nosy adults over there. It was the most efficient way of extracting you from the situation.

Bernard: Oh. Thanks, Damian.

Damian: Tt, don't thank me yet, Dowd. I am still criticising your choice in romantic partners.

Bernard: Didn't you threaten me with a katana to not dampen Tim's mood in any way shape or form?

Damian: Slander. I said quote 'if you make Drake more annoying by breaking his heart I'm going to maim you.' I don't see how you got the message you did from that.

Bernard, grinning: Sure, Damian. Sure.

[calling-the-angels]

It's a narrow-minded view of what "oppression" looks like and turns the conversation into a competition about who is more oppressed or who is "actually" oppressed... with the added disgusting wish for someone to face MORE abuse because of their sexual identity. 🤨😒

It's actually depressing that in this day and age, we still have queers drawing lines in the sand of the LGBTQIA+ community instead of recognizing that we're all standing on fucking SAND and the tides are awfully threatening right now...

“I wish asexuals were as oppressed as they say they are.” = “I refuse to educate myself on how allonormativity negatively affects acespec people and how they are harshly treated (*abused) in an allonormative society.”

[mochinomnoms]

hrng… trey birthday fic…

I’m not gonna lie, for awhile, I didn’t really like trey. i didn’t dislike him, mind you, but he was just kind of there. but all of a sudden, my brain was just thinkin about trey. like i’m just chillin at home, and i’m just thinking about trey. he’s just so…

and then you posted the birthday fic and godDAMN

Mochi, you are a genius. I am a buff trey truther. mans would have hella arm muscle and I will not accept any less. sorry i just keep thinking about trey now. he would have the biggest breeding kink its not even funny

anyhow, if you have more trey I would LOVE to read it especially if it’s about him being a pervert

i’m so normal i promise

as always, have a wonderful day ^^

-🦷

AAAAAA TY!!! I'm so glad that you're seeing the appeal for Trey he really is an underrated character!! I got that eldest daughter syndrome and Trey as a character feeds into that ngl.

I also had a crush on Peeta from The Hunger Games when I was a kid and I was remembering a bit where it was pointed out that as a baker, Peeta was actually hella strong (he could toss 100 lbs flour bags over his shoulder), so it would only make sense to me that Trey would be similar.

I image he would have a bit more of a sleeper build, so it's not obvious how strong he is until he's actually doing something physical (like fucking me—). None of the sprites do him justice in that regard, but this very specific panel from the manga does do things to me:

aaaaaaaaa big strong arms to hold you in~

Trey is also kinda silly in the fact that he canonically is really bad at flirting, or at the every least being suave/romantic. Poor ghost bride, getting her eyes compared to grapes...

He did say that it was cause he was put on the spot, which is partially true. I like to think that he's the type to just say something flirty or romantic without meaning to.

Think of an old married couple where one of them will casually drop a compliment like it's the most natural thing in the world. That's how Trey is, and he doesn't even realize it! It's very sweet, and it's very easy to fall for of course!

I, of course, have other thots as well tehehe~

He absolutely has the biggest breeding kink (no this isn't just copy and pasting my own kinks into my favs, wat you talking about?). He grew up with a happy family, and had a bit of a taste of what parenthood is like while taking care of his siblings.

He wants to replicate that for his own family, no doubt, but it's not exactly those reasons that he's so into breeding you. No, it's the, forgive him for the silly comparison, look of your hole absolutely stuffed like a éclair (which I've seen several people on here ask of him YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).

The sight of you swollen, twitchy, and full hole is sooooosososososoooooo yummy, and he has the excuse that he has to make sure his seed will take to keep filling you! It's not until after when your belly is swelling with a baby that his pregnancy kink kicks in...but perhaps that's another discussion for another time.

My last thoughts for just this moment are that Trey maaaay have a slight bit of an oral fixation. He likes seeing your mouth on his dick, he likes to open your lips with his cum still resting on your tongue and running his fingers over your teeth, and he reeaaally likes to have you bite down on his neck and admire the teeth marks. Not enough to bleed, mind you, but enough that he could take a picture and then compare the marks to your actual teeth later on in fascination. It's only a little weird, indulge him won't you?

[inkykeiji]

are we having fun yet?

characters: todoroki touya, todoroki enji warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (adoptive siblings), rough sex, tw enji, fem!reader, toxic relationships (possessiveness, jealousy, touya’s just very mean) words: 1.7k

From the moment you stepped through the estate door, you’ve always been the princess of the family; babied to the point of patronization, pampered to the point of spoiled brat, rotten right to your sugary core.

The Todoroki family’s cherished little charity case, orphaned by a building Endeavor had failed to catch when you were only five years old, welcomed into his arms and his family and his big, big home. 

His.

Everyone loved you instantly, took to you like a swarm of maggots to a piece of fresh, ripe fruit—swathed you in adoration, gorged themselves on your sweet flesh, consumed your seeds and planted you in their hearts, let you take root, fester, grow.

Except for Touya, who, despite his big age at eleven years old—a whole six years older than you—developed a lifelong penchant for yanking on your pigtails or braids just to hear you yelp out that pretty Touya-nii!, filtered through a cutely scrunched pout. 

Everyone still loves you, even well into adulthood, desperate to aid you, to wait on you hand and foot, to take care of the poor little orphaned girl. 

Except for Touya.

Because Touya loves you even more than everyone else. Touya loves you the most. 

He wouldn’t be so goddamn mean if he didn’t. 

But regardless of how precious you are to all of the Todorokis, you are not perfect. 

And there is one teensy, tiny, slightly distasteful habit you just can’t seem to kick. 

It’s a habit you developed when you were just a child, only a few months into officially being a Todoroki.

It’s a habit you should’ve grown out of by now—any respectable young woman would have, at this point. 

It’s a habit you’ve been spoken to about several times—but, evidently, nothing quite seems to stick. 

It isn’t normal for a fully grown adult to jump into her father’s arms like that, Fuyumi had tried to explain gently, eyes brimming with sympathetic pity. It isn’t entirely appropriate. 

Maybe not. But you’re not entirely sure you care. 

Because you just can’t help it, legs taking off the moment you hear Daddy’s engine cut, bare feet padding down the hallway as Daddy’s boots collide with the cobblestone walkway, rounding the foyer corner just as he’s stepping through the front door, barrelling into his waiting arms with a syrupy sweet squeal of Daddy! sounding in your throat.

“Hey, princess,” he’s saying as he catches you, hoists you up by your armpits and cradles you to his body, large hands strong and secure beneath your bum. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” 

A routine procedure, question murmured out like clockwork, but you never tire of it.

“Better, now that you’re home,” you sigh into him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms twined around his neck, resting your head on his broad shoulder as you stare up at him. 

The familiar scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, infused with notes of dirt and rubble and a hint of sweat, and you breathe it in deeply, desperate to fill your lungs with it, that Dad Aftershave that never seems to fade, no matter how long or ruthless his shift was. 

Your ribs stretch, strain, press into Daddy’s strong chest, and he chuckles, the sound rumbling warmly against you. 

He knows what you’re doing. 

“Trying to inhale me?” he asks, but amusement streaks his tone, crystal eyes melty and lidded as they stare down at you, a small smile on his lips. 

With an embarrassed little squeak, you nod, burrowing your burning face into his shoulder, Enji laughing again; gentle, soft, full of love. 

“Y’jus smell really good, s’all,” you mumble into him. “You smell like home, Daddy.” 

“Even all sweaty and icky from work?”

“Even all sweaty and icky from work,” you confirm with a lethargic nod, thighs tightening around his thick waist, desperate to hug him closer. 

Droplets of exertion still adorn his neck, little beads glittering delicately in the setting sunlight spilling through the front windows in large beams of gold. With content humming in your throat, you nuzzle your cheek into his damp skin, smearing his sweat across your flesh, letting it seep into your tissues, forcefully marking yourself with his scent. 

“That’s gross, dad. I don’t know why you let her do that to you.” A smooth, dark voice sounds behind you, two pairs of eyes snapping to the source. 

Touya.

Leaning against the cased opening, he smirks—a cruel little curl up of his lips, sharp and void of mirth—his arms crossed loosely over his chest in practiced apathy.  

Sapphire eyes skim down your knotted bodies slow and languid, appraising, degrading, before climbing back up to meet your own stare, blue flames licking around his pupils.

“It’s not right,” he continues. He’s talking to Daddy, but his eyes haven’t left your own, the inferno blazing in his irises so bright you’re sure it’ll leave sunspots blooming in your vision.

It hurts, but you won’t bow, you won’t break—not here, not now, not for him. 

With decided defiance, you trail the tip of your nose along the sharp edge of your father’s jaw—slow, soft, sensual—planting a chaste kiss to the strong, defined hinge, steadily holding your eldest brother’s unblinking gaze. 

Oh, Touya knows what you’re doing. 

And, oh, Touya fucking hates it. 

Something sours his face, twists his features into a bitter wince—anger, or heartache, or both, morphing his handsomeness into something ugly, stained with envy.

“Oh, Touya,” Enji dismisses with a grumble and a roll of his eyes. “Can’t a father hug his little girl when he comes home? What’s the issue with that?” 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t be serious,” Touya snorts, and it’s caustic, gnawing through the heavy atmosphere. “Your ‘little girl’ is a grown fucking woman. It’s weird.” 

It’s wrong.  

“Touya’s got a point, Enji,” Rei says as she rounds the corner, lips pressed in a flat, thin line. “Sweetheart,” her eyes find yours, mouth stretching into a small, tight smile, straining beneath the pressure of contrived cordiality. “We talked about this.” 

Brow furrowing, your eyes swap between their faces. “But I’m—I was just—”

But it’s no use trying to explain; they’ve already made up their minds, already sentenced you to damnation, ice and slate scrutinizing, suffocating as their combined stares weigh down on you.

A garbled noise hitches in your throat, something that sounds suspiciously similar to unfair as you untangle yourself from your Daddy, Enji’s large hands aiding in the task, setting you down onto the hardwood floor gently.

A precious moment, smashed to bits by hard jealousy. 

An apologetic ruffle of your hair, his palm so massive it practically encases the entire top of your head—sorry, kiddo—and then he’s off, stalking down the hallway for a much-anticipated shower to wash the grime of the day from his skin, his wife following close to his side, hissing out reproaches, fragments of their conversation—discourage and indulge and shouldn’t—slicing your ears.

“You always ruin everything,” you spit at your brother, the moment both of your parents are out of view.  

“That so?” he gazes down at you with polished impassivity, sapphire lidded but scorching—but you know him better than that, you know him the best. 

“Yeah, that is so,” you seethe. “It’s so unfair that you get to fuck anything that moves but I’m not even allowed to give our father a simple hug.”

Disgust screws up his face, but it’s tinged with desolation, the implication sewn into your words loud and clear—if you could, if Daddy would let you, you’d fuck him, too.

Whether or not that’s true, whether or not it’s just a tactic to hurt him, doesn’t matter. The fact that you’re even making the implication itself is enough. 

And Touya knows better than most that these little quips, razored little insults spit between siblings, always have a glimmer of truth to them. 

“There’s nothing simple about that ‘hug’—if that’s what you want to call it.” The words are acrid, stinging his tongue, but his voice cracks, eroded by emotion. 

“What would you call it?” 

“You should be ashamed,” he continues, ignoring your question. 

“Why? It’s just an innocent—”

“Innocent?” he scoffs, eyebrows raising with sardonic surprise. “It’s indecent. Winding around our father like that, climbing him like he’s a fucking tree—” His face puckers, the thought venom in his mouth, head shaking in disapproval.

“Maybe you’re just jealous,” you say, lifting your nose with a haughty air of superiority, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the kill. “Huh? Jealous that I touch Daddy like that so freely, jealous that I like Daddy better than I like you.” 

Poor Daddy, used as a toy, a tool to wield against your big brother—the only foolproof weapon in your arsenal, the only surefire way to hurt Touya, to guarantee you get what you’re so desperately vying for.

Daddy’s Little Girl always gets what she wants—consciously or not, Daddy makes sure of that. 

Touya smirks in response; nothing more than a lopsided twitching of his lips, the hellfire in his eyes flaring, a spark of terror zipping through your veins. Huffing out the ghost of a laugh through his nostrils—humourless, bleak—his tongue runs along his front teeth, sucking hard, eyes narrowed.

You know what that means, too.

You’ll pay for that remark later tonight, face shoved into your eldest brother’s pillows, cotton wedged between your teeth as his hips smack your ass and his cock pounds your cervix and his fingers tighten around your wrists, yanking back with every plunging thrust forward, using them as leverage, your muscles pulled taut and aching. 

And that’ll just be the start. He won’t stop until his pillow is thoroughly soaked with you—your tears, your spit, your sweat, drying in hard crusts of salt—until you’re sobbing out his honorific, twined so beautifully with messy apologies, the only words your stupid little brain can comprehend, until your cute little cunt has been fucked raw, split open by his thick cock over and over and over again, stuffed so full of your big brother’s cum that it’s oozing past his shaft in dribbles of cream.

He won’t stop until your body is mangled and marred with him, dark splotches of broken blood vessels and scabby molds of his teeth reminding you of who you truly belong to.

And then, he’ll fuck you some more. 

Your Welcome Home ritual won’t be the only thing your big brother is ruining tonight. 

[merthosus]

Wounded nights part 2

🌶️SMUT WARNING: If you don't like it, don't read it!

Summary: After being found sleeping in each other's arms, by the whole family, you and five speak about what exactly happened. How the conversation with you two ended, none of you would have expected...

For @groovydazephantom,@taygrls,@selfishlittlebeing and all the other people, who wished for part 2 of wounded nights! And especially for

Here to Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/merthosus/759567714952019968/wounded-nights-summary-after-having-to-do-a-very?source=share

“I hate how you make me feel…these goddamn feelings…”

You both sleep though in each other's arms till the morning. Klaus saw you while wanting to get out and meet his drug dealer, not believing himself. He got all of his siblings surrounding you. You were still sleep as they all watched you. "Someone should take a photo", Allison whispers. "How did this happen? I thought they hate each other?", Diego asks also whispering. "You think they dead? Do they even breathe? Maybe they stabbed each other", Klaus suspects. Everybody signed and shaking their head.

Luther and the rest of the siblings stood there, still trying to comprehend the sight in front of them. The sight of Five, the most stoic and coldest member of the Umbrella Academy, holding you tightly in his arms, both of you asleep. It was such a stark contrast from their usual interactions, constantly bickering and arguing, that it was almost surreal. Everyone stared in disbelief at the two of you.

“I don’t believe it…” Diego says, staring at the scene before him. Alison looked just as shocked as the others, a small smile on her face. “I never thought I’d see Five so…soft.” Luther crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion “It’s bizarre….they’ve always hated each other. It doesn’t make any sense.” Klaus let out a snort of laughter, a mischievous smile on his face

“Oh my God, I’m never letting Five hear the end of this” Diego rolls his eyes at Klaus’ statement. “Don’t be a dick, Klaus”. “It’s almost like a paradox…or a glitch in the universe.” Diego then spoke up, a small grin on his face. “Or maybe they were just secretly in love the whole time, and we idiots just never noticed.” Five slowly stirred awake, groggily opening his eyes.

The first thing he felt, was you. The feeling of you in his arms, your body against his, it was overwhelming. For a moment he just stayed there, his eyes half-lidded, his mind still trying to process what was happening. Then, he realized that everyone was there, watching him and he stiffened, eyes widening in realization and a hint of embarrassment. He slowly uncurled his arms from around you.

He gently disentangled himself from you, his cheeks starting to flush red. He glanced up and saw the collective look of shock on his siblings’ faces. Klaus had an amused look on his face, Diego had a small smirk, Allison looked delighted, Vanja had a slight expression of surprise, and Luther looked confused. “…what?” five said, still slightly groggy. Klaus was the first to speak up, a mischievous grin on his face. “Well, good morning sleeping beauty. You two looked so cozy together, we couldn’t help but watch.”

Diego chuckled, a smirk on his face. “You two looked pretty cute together. I never knew you had it in you, little bro.” Allison had an amused expression on her face. ”You two looked so peaceful, we didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

As you stir awake, Five’s gaze flickers down to you. He quickly glances away, a hint of embarrassment still on his face. The others notice you waking up and suddenly start grinning Klaus gives you a cheeky smile. “Good morning, sunshine. Had a good sleep?”. You turn around, looking at them not really realizing what's happening. "W..what?", I ask while rubbing my eyes. Klaus chuckles softly, still looking amused by the situation. "I'll repeat myself, good morning, sleepyhead. You and little Five there looked awfully cozy together, we were just ogling you two lovebirds."

You look down confused not realizing You am still sitting on Fives lap. You look in his eyes. He meets your gaze, a faint hint of embarrassment on his face. The sight of you sitting on his lap, still tired and slightly confused, it’s doing something to him. He can feel the weight of your body, your thighs resting against his, your hand loosely intertwined with his…it’s driving him wild and he swallows hard. Oh god", you say embarrased. "Fuck off, all of you creeps!", you say.

Everyone just grins at your reaction, clearly enjoying getting on your and Five’s nerves. Klaus: “Aww, come on, don’t be so embarrassed. You two looked absolutely adorable together". “It was a pretty cute sight, have to say.”, Allison said with a smile in her face.

"Fuckkk", you say to yourself looking at five slowly getting up from his lap. You sightly shudder at the sudden loose of warmness and contact. The whole night your body's held the body warmth of each other. As you get up, Five instantly misses the feel of you against him. He almost wishes you wouldn’t move, he wants to pull you back and keep you in his arms again, but he’s still hyper-aware of his siblings’ presence. He silently curses to himself, knowing that the others are still here, still watching the whole thing with way too much interest.

"I wanted to get a cup of tea and we tripped, getting into a paralysis", you lie already knowing they won't believe it. Klaus lets out a snort of laughter. "Ah, you "tripped. I'm sure you did." he says in a sarcastic tone. "And then you fell asleep…perfectly molded against each other. That was a result of tripping, too, nein?". Five slowly gets up, groaning softly, still reeling from the embarrassment of the whole situation. He glances back over at you, a hint of redness still on his cheeks, silently admiring how cute and disheveled you looked at this moment. With the thought of finally getting out this awkward situation, you get to your room.

As you train for the next mission, the day passes and it's getting dark. You stand in your room still thinking about the past mission you did. To get the horrible memories out of your head, you begin to tidy up a bit. Five, meanwhile, was in his room, his mind occupied with thoughts of you. He couldn’t seem to get the image of you and him cuddling together out of his head. It was driving him insane, the memory of how you felt against him, how warm and soft you were, the feeling of your arm around his neck…he was going to go mad if he continued to mull over it any further.

As you tidy up, you hear a soft knock at your door. Five’s voice comes from the other side. “Hey, you in there?”. "Come in", you say.

With a familiar blue flash, Five appears in your room. He looks like he’s been running his fingers through his hair, the locks looking unruly and messy. He gives you a slight nod in greeting. “Hey.” "Hi" you say awkward. He shoves his hands in his pockets, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Uh…can I talk to you? About something?”. "To be honest I know what you want to say. I am sorry. I shouldn't have done this, let's just forget about it", you mumble concentrating on tiding up.

His expression shifts slightly, an almost hurt look in his eyes. “But do you regret it?”. He swallows hard, trying to fight back the emotions bubbling up inside him. You suddently come to a halt, your back turned to him. "I...I", you stutter. He takes a small step forward, seeing you stop abruptly, your back to him. You dont want to turn yourself around, you can't look into his eyes. "Five, we hate each other since the day we strated to think", you explain to him. He takes another step closer, his voice is slightly strained, but there’s a hint of pain in it.

“Right…we hate each other. Then why did you sleep in my arms last night?”. "Because I felt lost five", you answer only saying half of the truth. He’s standing right next to you, his voice quiet but filled with emotion. “So you’re saying you only used me to make yourself feel better?”. "No i... Five don't say that", you say. He swallows hard, his emotions growing stronger with each passing moment. “Then what am I supposed to think? We hate each other, that’s all we ever feel for each other…and then you suddenly come and cuddle up next to me?!”

"Do you reget it?", you ask him balling all of your braveness together. He lets out a long breath, he can’t look at your face, he can’t bare to see the expression on your face. “Yes, and no…I don’t regret the fact that we cuddled together, it felt…good, to have you so close. But I do regret knowing you that you only did it because you were feeling lost and confused.” "I didn't mean it like that", you stutter.

He finally turns to look at you, his expression slightly distraught. “Then why did you do it? If the only reason you cuddles up against me was because you “felt lost” and “needed comfort”, why didn’t you just go to Klaus or Allison?”. "Because.... You know what fuck you", you say while turning into his direction and walking fast to him. He backs a little up, thinking you are about to punch him. But suddently you grab his cheek and smash your lips onto his.

He makes a noise of surprise against your lips, his eyes widening in shock, but only for a moment. In a flash, he melts into the kiss, his hands instinctively moving to your hips, pulling you closer, crushing your body to his. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping between the parting of your lips to tangle with yours. He suddenly pushes you back against the wall, pinning you against the cold surface, his lips leaving yours to kiss fervently down your neck, licking and sucking, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake. Feeling his lips on your throat, makes you moan out your words. "I hate you", you moan.

He nips a sensitive spot on your neck, his mouth still working on marking your skin. “I hate you too…”. he growls against your skin, his hands slipping under the edge of your shirt to feel your skin under his touch. He moves his lips back to your own, kissing you deeply, his body pressing into yours, pinning you against the wall as his hands roam your body under your shirt, tracing your curves, tracing over all the new marks left on your skin from his eager mouth.

His hands move with urgency, exploring the soft contours of your body as he presses you harder against the wall, his lips devouring yours with a hunger that’s been building for far too long. Every touch, every kiss is filled with a fierce intensity, a desperate need that neither of you can ignore any longer. Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer as you deepen the kiss, your bodies molding perfectly together again. The heat between you is overwhelming, a fire that has been simmering beneath the surface finally erupting into flames. The tension that once defined your relationship has transformed into something else entirely—something passionate, raw, and undeniable.

You grip his shoulders, pulling him closer as his hands roam lower, finding the waistband of your pants. He hesitates for a brief moment, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is the same burning desire that he feels. Without another word, his hands dip beneath the fabric, and a gasp escapes your lips as his fingers find the most sensitive part of you. “Fuck, Five…” you moan, your head falling back against the wall as he works you with skilled precision, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He swallows your moans with his mouth, kissing you deeply, passionately, as his fingers sweep over your clit.

Your hands aren't idle as Five continues to work his magic on you. Even as you lose yourself in the sensation of his touch, your fingers find their way to the hem of his shirt, sliding beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin. The muscles of his abdomen tense under your touch, a sharp intake of breath escaping him as your nails lightly graze over his skin. You trace the lines of his body, your touch both gentle and firm, exploring every inch of him that you can reach. You can feel his heartbeat, fast and strong, just like your own, and it only spurs you on. The sense of power you have in this moment—knowing that you’re affecting him just as much as he’s affecting you—is intoxicating.

As your hands travel up his chest, you feel him shiver beneath your touch. His breath hitches when your fingers find the sensitive skin along his collarbone, and you take advantage of the reaction, leaning in to press your lips against the spot where your fingers had just been. You kiss your way up his neck, feeling his pulse quicken under your lips, leaving a trail of soft bites and gentle nips as you go. “Fuck…” Five breathes out, his voice rough with arousal. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer, his own control slipping as your hands continue their exploration.

One of your hands moves lower, skimming over his belt and finding the growing hardness beneath. You palm him through his pants, the fabric doing little to hide his arousal, and the groan that escapes him at your touch sends a thrill through you. He’s hard, straining against the confines of his clothes, and the feeling of him in your hand only adds to your own desire. “You like that, huh?” you murmur against his ear, your voice teasing as you continue to rub him, applying just enough pressure to drive him wild.

Five’s response is a low growl, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand. He captures your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands moving up your back to pull you even closer, as if he can't get enough of you. Your hand slips beneath the waistband of his pants, finding his heated skin, and he curses under his breath, his head falling back as he surrenders to your touch. You wrap your fingers around him, feeling the heat and hardness in your hand, and you start to stroke him, slow and deliberate, savoring every gasp and moan that escapes his lips.

Five’s breath is ragged, his control slipping with every movement of your hand. He’s always been the one in control, always the one calling the shots, but now, in this moment, you have him completely at your mercy—and it’s a heady feeling. He groans your name, his voice raw and needy, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. His hands move to your hips, gripping you tightly as if to ground himself, but his movements are growing erratic, his body trembling with the need that’s consuming him.

You continue to stroke him, your pace increasing as you feel him getting closer to the edge. His breathing is labored, his eyes half-lidded with lust as he looks at you, and the sight of him, so undone and vulnerable in front of you, only makes you want him more. But before he can reach his peak, he pulls you away, his hands firm on your wrists as he steps back, his chest heaving. There’s a wild, almost desperate look in his eyes, and he’s shaking his head, as if trying to regain control.

“Not like this,” he says, his voice strained. He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s both passionate and tender. “If I’m going to come, I want it to be with you. I want to be inside you.” His words send a rush of heat through your body, and you nod, your own desire mirroring his. Without another word, you start to undress, your clothes falling to the floor as he does the same. When you’re both bare, he steps closer, his hands caressing your skin as he pulls you into another deep kiss.

The sensation of his body against yours, skin to skin, is overwhelming, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as he guides you toward the bed. You fall onto the mattress together, his body covering yours, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the feel of him, the weight of him pressing you into the sheets. He hovers over you, his eyes locked onto yours, and there’s a moment of silence, a moment of connection, before he finally enters you. The sensation is electric, a rush of pleasure that has you arching into him, your nails digging into his back as he moves within you, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, more urgent.

Your bodies move in sync, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your hands roam over his back, gripping him, pulling him closer as he drives you both higher, the tension building between you until it’s almost too much to bear. He leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s almost bruising in its intensity, his hips snapping against yours with a force that leaves you breathless. You can feel the pleasure coiling in your belly, tight and ready to snap, and when he angles his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot, you’re lost.

Your orgasm rips through you, your entire body tensing as you cry out his name, your nails raking down his back. The sensation pulls him over the edge with you, and you feel him shudder, his release following yours as he groans into your neck, his entire body trembling with the force of it. For a long moment, you both just lie there, tangled together, your breathing heavy and your bodies slick with sweat. The intensity of what just happened lingers in the air, and as Five finally pulls back to look at you, there’s a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“I still hate you”, you whisper, a small, teasing smile playing on your lips.

Five chuckles, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as he leans in to kiss you softly. “I hate you too”.

But the way he kisses you, the way he holds you close afterward, tells a different story entirely...

Tell me what you think about this, my first smut story published here!

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I'm rewatching Gilmore Girls for the thousandths time and ... my crush on Luke is still alive and kicking...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTJ

Hufflepuff

Lawful Good

Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Aries Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・A grumpy man on a good day, intolerable on a bad day and luckily for you, you met on one of his worst

・You labelled him as a jerk, and vowed never to go near him nor his cafe for the rest of your life

・But then your car broke down and he was the first person to drive past you.

"Need any help?"

"Yeah- oh. No, no I do not," you said to Luke and slammed your car door closed. Hautily crossing your arms over your chest and staring forward.

"Oh c'mon," he called out from his open window.

・This interaction solidified a new way of looking at Luke. You didn't hate him anymore ... no, quite the opposite. But you were damn sure he still hated you

・Heavy on the will-they-won't-they trope. It went on for four months before you both couldn't take it anymore.

・There was something pulling you towards him, like a constant ache and whenever you saw him, it was relieved. You knew you loved him two months after knowing him. And it hurt so much seeing him go out with anyone else.

・But god, by a goddamn Stars Hollow miracle, he saw you. Finally saw what you saw in him.

・Very,, very family orientated. You're in trouble? He's dropping everything to help you.

・You're sitting next to Luke on the couch watching tv and suddenly get a call saying one of your siblings needs help? Luke is already up and putting on his shoes.

・You can try and help him but he shoos you inside and says he's got this.

・Goes over and above for anything that you want.

・Will literally save up everyday until he reaches his money goal to take you to Disney Land because you told him one night you really wanted to go.

・Stubborn as all hell, thinks he knows best but you're the only person who can make him fold.

・When you first told him you loved him, he nearly got the air knocked out of him.

・He's incredibly touch-starved, and doesn't want you to know that (but of course you know that...)

・Despite the grumpy exterior, Luke has shown moments of being supportive and encouraging

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Moon and His Star

"Why are you babying me" (Luke) x "Because I know you like it" (You)

Acquaintances to Standing Up For Him to Friends to Lovers

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Enemies-To-Lovers

Like Calls To Like

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Into My Arms by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

Also, for the most part it's gender neutral but in the nsfw section there's female genitalia used for the reader.

I wasn't going to add this but ... I want to ... but for some reason thinking about Luke & smut makes me blush so hard so please forgive me for any mistakes or such :')

・You both stand mere centimetres apart. Your breaths mingling as the snow slowly falls around you.

・Standing outside his diner, you shivered as Luke's hand slowly moves around your waist and pulls you close

・Your lips melt into his, your hands gripping his jacket. Trying desperately to get closer to him. To press against him, to feel ... to feel anything of his body.

"Let's go upstairs," he mumbles against your lips, his hands roaming around your body.

・Your first time together was fast at first; ripping each other's clothes off. Trying to see each other's naked body and drink it all in.

・But once the clothes had been discarded, you both became very ... sensitive and vulnerable.

・So, it slowed down, and rough touches turned into gentle caresses.

・Luke couldn't stop staring at you, smelling you; he wanted to lose himself in you.

・You love riling him up; obviously not when people are around. But teasing him at home; rubbing his crotch innocently.

・Nibbling at his ear, giving his neck a kiss or two, and then walking away.

・Luke's reaction is always the same - nose flairing, hands curling into fists; he knows this game. He's just never good at playing it. He hates teasing. He'd rather just pin you down and jump your bones.

・But you love how much you can provoke him; it means he loves you that much that your touch drives him wild.

・Blow jobs are one of his favourite things; he never expects you to do it, and for a while he never let you service him. But now that he knows you enjoy it too...god his heart pounds whenever he thinks of it

・Loves pulling you to the edge of the bed, slipping down your pants/lifting your skirt and practically ripping your underwear from you. He holds your thighs apart and eats you like a starved man

・At first he doesn't like your sex toys; feeling inferior to them.

・But you showed him how they can be used in sex for heightened pleasure.

・You still haven't gotten Luke to a sex shop though. He has vowed never to stand a foot in that shop.

[inthebitterwatchesofthenight]

Five and Lila (nonromantic) subway headcanons

Like everyone I really hated the Five x Lila storyline and the butchered potential of their almost-sibling relationship development.

But one thing that really ticked me, and that I haven't really read about yet, is: that timeskip montage looks like 3 weeks, maybe 2 months at best, not SIX FUCKING YEARS. In six years, people visibly age, especially under duress, if, for example, the only thing they can eat is rats?? (I'm not even talking about how they managed to keep roughly the same clothes and haircuts for six years without any explanation, or how they miraculously cleaned up before going back to Diego and Lila's precisely at the right point in time...) In six years alone with another person, you would probably struggle keeping your sanity, and the end result for each of them would probably look something like early stages of Apocalypse S1 Five. In six years alone with another person, even with prior attraction (which would already be ooc for both of them but whatever let's just grant them that for the sake of the argument), you would end up HATING each other all the way through your codependent relationship. I could see them having sex after six months (still following those creepy-ass ooc assumptions), but I could certainly NOT see them kissing softly and romantically wine-dining after SIX YEARS (the time those goddamn showrunners told us it took for passion to die down in a perfect marriage?? How about helltrap subway then??)

So after that really long preamble, here are my headcanons for what that subway section should really have looked like:

No Five x Lila, obviously

They bicker all the time; this escalates into outright fights. At some point, Lila storms off somewhere and they lose each other for five months.

When they realise they're not going home anytime soon, Five finds a timeline with a Dolores (other than the original one) and steals her away, because he's going to need her to cope through this. (Of course, he needs to apologize to her for being gone this long.)

At first, Lila thinks that Five is nuts for talking to Dolores, but in a matter of days she understands the urge and Dolores becomes her best friend. Five and Lila fight over Dolores's approval all. the. time.

Lila collects little trinkets to bring home to Grace and the twins (like the plushies in New Grumpson). After two years the gift bag has got way too big and Five helps her sort out the ones she really wants to keep; she bawls her eyes out and they arrange the throwaway gifts neatly on a bench, just in case they can come back and get them.

They find some really weird and fun timelines. Don't care what, they just do. Lila almost gets killed trying to bring home a souvenir.

Five and Lila find Max's Delicatessen together. By the way, there's a few Lilas there, ones that also met Fives. Lila can vent about her relationship trouble Diego with another Lila who has also married a Diego. But the other Diego is dead, and Lila realizes just how much she wants to get home before that happens.

This is a bit irrelevant, but that Five deli paradox psychosis plothole is explained by a random artefact created by Commission Five (like in his room in S3 I think?).

Five and Lila wait a short while in the deli to make a plan about the apocalypse. Another Five arrives, finds out about the marigold, and says out loud that the solution would be to erase all Hargreeves siblings from existence. A few seconds of silence, and then all the other Fives slaughter him because what kind of Five would to this to their family???? This is also one of the purposes of the deli, by the way. To make sure no Five comes out of the subway with delirious, dangerous ideas about harming their siblings.

Five and Lila realise that if Viktor can take away the marigold from people like Harlan, then he can take it away from his siblings. And what about Viktor himself? Well, Lila can mimic his powers and they can take away each other's marigold at the same time, and lose their powers just as they're done. Darn, why didn't they think of this sooner?

Lila tries to relook Five. After four or five years, he gives in, sees the end result and immediately finds a timeline with a suit to steal so as to fix this freakish mistake. He wears a hat for a while to try and hide his undercut hair.

Lila sings a lot. Five lets her, and just mumbles about her lousy tastes in music to Dolores.

Lila adopts a monstrous pet (three-headed cat? Giant bee?) for a few stops, and it mysteriously disappears at some point. Major fight ensues. Maybe this is why she leaves for a while.

In another timeline, they briefly meet a version of Diego that's not dead yet. He tries to kill them, Lila tells him that he's a great dad, he's weirded out and runs away.

Five picks up littered newspaper to see if there's anything interesting. He becomes a crossword addict. He moves to a new special interest puzzle game every few months.

After a fight, Five's big making-up strategy is to sit down next to Lila and start talking shit about the Handler. It kinda works.

I'm gonna stop here, this is already way too long. Please share your own headcanons if you have any!

[corroded-hellfire]

Jack & Coke - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: When your best friend Eddie betrays you, you head to The Hideout for a drink—and maybe something more.

Note: This is what comes from late night conversations and texts that say “I had another angsty eddie thought.”

Warnings: angst, family issues, smut, p in v, age gap but both parties are well over 18, oral, m receiving

Words: 4.8k

“And then you put your middle finger riiiiight here,” Eddie explains patiently, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he adjusts your grip on the guitar neck. “Perfect. Now, give a little strum.”

The A-chord doesn’t sound as good as when he plays it, but it’s an improvement since you’d started this impromptu lesson half an hour ago.The fact that butterflies flapped their wings in your stomach every time he touched you didn’t help your concentration, either. 

“I still like it better when you play,” you tell him shyly, lifting the guitar and handing it back to him. “You’re, like, a natural-born rockstar.”

Eddie grins, leaning back against your bed. “Yeah, well, you can’t teach this kind of bad-assery,” he teases, booping you on the nose playfully and inadvertently sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine.

You’re about to muster up the courage to nudge him back when you hear the front door open.

“I’m home!” Andrea shouts obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. You miss the initial flash of fear that washes over your best friend’s face, mistaking his grimace for a mutual dislike of your older sister.

You know that everyone has issues with their siblings; even ones that are close-knit still have their share of rivalries. But your relationship with Andrea goes beyond the usual bickering. Since you were very young, Andrea has bullied and tormented you incessantly. As kids, Andrea would break her old toys and tell your parents that you did it, that way they would buy her newer and better toys. From the moment that Andrea hit puberty, she was the “hot one.” Never mind not being the “pretty sister,” you had to deal with being invisible because all eyes were glued to Andrea. Then you practically were invisible when you started high school and Andrea pretended she didn’t even know you. It didn’t matter that you’d never ratted her out for all the times she snuck out of the house after your parents went to sleep. But any little thing you did wrong, Andrea went straight to your parents and snitched. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if you squealed on your sister anyway since she was quite obviously your parents’ favorite.

When boys did talk to you, it was because they wanted to get to your sister. Some of them thought treating the little sister as a charity case would get them into Andrea’s pants. The only time it was ever different was when Eddie Munson started talking to you your freshman year. He plopped down next to you at your lunch table and started talking to you about the copy of The Hobbit you had been reading. At first you thought this was another ploy to get to Andrea through you, but the longer he talked about things far nerdier than the book in your hands, you figured this guy might actually just want to talk to you. It was an odd and gratifying feeling. The first time you’d mentioned that you were Andrea’s sister, Eddie actually seemed surprised. “You two share blood?” he said. “She’s a goddamn tornado that destroys everything in its path. And you…you’re like a rainbow.” It’s the greatest compliment you’ve ever gotten. 

As your friendship with Eddie grew, you began to tell him more about how Andrea treated you. How she’d hurl the meanest, most vile words your way with no provocation. You didn’t need to provoke Andrea, she was constantly on the offensive. “Why does she treat me like shit all the time?” you’d ask, and Eddie would reply, “She doesn’t need a reason. There’s just venom in her blood.” 

Andrea was the walking embodiment of those luminescent fish that were so beautiful and shiny on the outside, only to lure the smaller, weaker fish in so that it could crush them. Her jet black hair was always shiny and never a strand was out of place. No blemish ever dared to appear on her skin, leaving her with the smoothest, most glowing complexion. Her curves seemed to be perfectly sculpted, defying anyone to not look at her and either want to be her or want to be with her. Obviously, it was impossible for you to keep up with her current flavor of the week. 

“Are you going to play for me?” you ask as Eddie just sits with the guitar in his lap. You scoot until your thigh is pressed up against his. It would be so easy to tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder. The comforting scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, and a hint of weed floods your senses as you try to be as close to him as you can—without being creepy about it, you remind yourself. 

“I, um,” Eddie mumbles, his eyes watching your bedroom door intently. “I thought you said your sister wasn’t going to be home?”

“I didn’t think she was,” you say with a shrug. “But you know Andrea, she does whatever the hell she wants. Maybe she met her quota for making children cry today and decided to come home early.” 

Eddie nods and looks back down to the guitar in his lap. He swallows so loud that you’re able to hear it, which has you raising your eyebrows. 

“Look, I know she’s demonic,” you say. “But she probably doesn’t even know we’re in here. Besides, if she was going to torture someone, it would be me, not you.”

“I don’t want her to hurt you. I’d rather she hurt me, actually,” Eddie says, still looking down at the guitar in his lap. More words rest on the tip of his tongue, but the bedroom door flying open stops him. 

“I said, I’m—oh, hi, Eddie,” she trills, giving a tiny wave. “Come back for round two?”

Round two? You glance over at Eddie, waiting for an explanation, but he just turns beet red and sheepishly drops his gaze. 

Andrea takes in the puzzled look on your face and laughs harshly. “Aw, did your best friend not tell you?” There’s nothing but malice in her tone, and you feel like a rock landed in your lower abdomen. “Well, let me fill you in.”

“N-No, I should…” Eddie starts, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I swung by yesterday…I forgot you’d picked up that extra shift…”

Andrea rolls her eyes impatiently. “Write a goddamn novel, why don’t you?” she snaps. “I’ll summarize: you weren’t home, I was, and Eddie and I hooked up.”

“H-Hooked up?” The butterflies now have lead wings, and you feel the bile rising in your throat. 

“We slept together,” Eddie clarifies softly at the same time that Andrea quips, “we fucked.”

You try to blink back the tears that mist over your eyes. Your sister knows how you feel about Eddie; you weren’t naïve enough to tell her, she snooped through your diary and has been teasing you about it ever since. And while Eddie has no idea about the massive crush you’ve been harboring, he certainly is aware of how awful your sister is. His betrayal stings one thousand times worse. 

“Your bed is really great for sex,” Andrea sneers as you stumble to your feet. “Not that you’d know.”

This has to be a nightmare. You’re going to wake up at any moment, and the idea of Eddie and Andrea sleeping together will be a figment of your overactive imagination. It has to be, there’s no other explanation. But when you glance down at Eddie and see the shame that fills his face, you know. It’s real. Your best friend betrayed you in possibly the worst way he could have done so. All to get his dick wet.

“What the fuck?” It’s all that you can get out of your mouth. You suddenly feel like you’ve run ten miles. You’re lightheaded, your pulse is racing, and sweat is beginning to break out along your hairline. Eddie sets the guitar down and stands up. He reaches for you and you flinch away and pull back from him. The look of hurt that flashes in his eyes would normally make you want to wrap him up in your arms. But now? Now that you know that he fucked your sister in your bed, you don’t want him to ever touch you again. 

“Sweetheart, I’m—”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you snap. Looking past him, you can see your sister’s face is full of glee as a self-satisfied smirk settles on her lips. “What was in it for you, huh? Just to hurt me?”

Andrea scoffs and brings a hand up to her chest, reminding you of a southern belle clutching her pearls. “Are you insinuating that I don’t have feelings for dear Edward?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Eddie, you want to say, that’s the girl you slept with. 

“I would never insinuate that you have any feelings at all. Pretty sure you were born with a lump of coal in your chest instead of a heart. Come here, I’ll stab you with my letter opener and we’ll see the black blood come fucking rushing out,” you seethe. 

“Always so dramatic,” Andrea says with a sigh. “That must be why Eddie doesn’t reciprocate the silly little crush you have on him.”

Eddie’s eyes snap to you, and at any other time, you would’ve said him finding out is the worst possible thing to happen to you. But that’s been usurped now, so you really don’t care how he’s going to react. 

“Must be,” you retort, “or maybe he’s only into psycho bitches.” Clenching your fists, you turn to face Eddie. “I hope her pussy was worth it.” You storm over to your bedroom door, pushing past the both of them. Before you leave, you spin around to face the traitors. “I never want to see either of you again.” You don’t wait for either to respond; you just grab your bag and rush out to your car. 

You’re not sure why you drive to the Hideout; maybe it’s because you still want the comfort of Eddie, but you tell yourself it’s because the drinks are cheap and payday isn’t until next week. 

“I’ll take a Jack & Coke, please,” you tell Lou. The bartender nods, and you add, “you can put it on Eddie’s tab.” He is the reason you’re drinking, after all. 

The thought of their bodies melded into one, him holding her the way you’d only dreamed he’d hold you—it’s too much to bear. And now, like an idiot, you’d left them alone to do it again. 

Lou slides your drink over with a small smile, the most affection you’ve ever seen from the usually stoic man. You down the drink, and then another, frowning when you get the urge to break the seal. 

“Be right back,” you mutter to no one in particular, hoisting yourself off of the barstool and traipsing towards the restroom. You get a decent glimpse of yourself in the mirror: eyes still slightly puffy from when you’d been crying in the car, mascara smudged and smeared. A flick of the makeup wand has you looking a bit perkier already, and you practice your smile a few times before walking back out. 

Lou has another drink ready for you, cocking his head towards the other side of the bar. “Paid for by that gentleman over there,” he informs you, raising his eyebrows. 

You look to where he’s motioning and see a gorgeous older man giving you a little wave. His black t-shirt clings to his muscular frame, and you can’t help but notice the way his biceps ripple with each small movement. He looks to be in his mid- to late-forties, but his hair doesn’t show any signs of thinning. Short brown curls cover his scalp, cropped closely at the base of his neck. His upper body is covered in tattoos, and you immediately wonder where else he has ink. 

You saunter over to him, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously, just as you’d watched Andrea do countless times before. “I guess I should be thanking you for this drink,” you say, giggling and taking a sip. 

“Pleasure’s mine,” he offers, grabbing his green Heineken bottle and taking a swig. “Looked kinda sad, and pretty girls should always have a smile on their face.”

“It worked.” You rest your hand on his bicep, surprising yourself with your own brazenness. Or maybe it’s just tipsiness?

“You gotta name, pretty girl?” the mystery man asks, and you tell him. “Pretty name, too. Damn,” he muses. “I’m Jack. Just, uh, moved back to Hawkins a coupla days ago.”

“Moved back? So you don’t need the welcome tour?” you pout, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Pretty girl, I’ll take you up on anything you offer.”

You consider his proposition. “Let me finish this drink and we’ll see.”

His hand rests on your thigh as he tells you that he’s got a job lined up at the local power plant—immediately reminding you of Wayne, but you push the feeling down. You allow yourself to get lost in his sky blue eyes, somehow both haunting and comforting. 

You kill out your third drink, contemplating ordering one more. Either Jack was paying, or Eddie was, so all you had to worry about was how drunk you wanted to get. 

“What had you all upset earlier, hm?” Jack asks, running his thumb along the denim above your knee. “Don’t tell me it’s some stupid boy.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you then.” You giggle again—you can’t seem to stop giggling around him. “He’s not worth the time.”

Jack shakes his head. “He’s not. You don’t need to play his games. What you need,” he says seriously, “is a real man.”

“And where can I find one?”

His lips crash against yours hungrily, gently parting them with his tongue. He tastes like the hoppiness of beer and stale cigarettes, but you don’t mind. 

“That tour you mentioned earlier,” he murmurs in your ear, “can the first stop be my place?”

You give him a pout, leaning forward into his space, just enough for him to get a peek down your shirt. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

Jack looks around the bar, doing a doubletake when he sees the bathrooms in the back corner. He slides from his seat and takes one of your hands in his. There’s a smirk on his face as he walks backwards towards the bathrooms, tugging you along.

“Just as impatient as I am,” he says. “We shouldn’t wait any longer then.”

Without taking notice of if it’s the men or women’s room, you follow Jack in as he nudges a bathroom door open with his elbow. He’s quick to lock it behind you and his hands are instantly on you, grabbing at your waist as his mouth finds yours again. The kisses are urgent and sloppy, no teasing, just devouring one another. Your hands move down to his beltbuckle, making quick work of it and working on the button of his jeans. Strong, large hands grope over your chest as you shove his pants down, but just as you break from the kiss to get down on your knees, there’s a loud banging on the bathroom door. You’re startled and grab onto Jack’s arm, and he’s quick to wrap it around you reassuringly.

“Not in my bar!” Lou shouts through the door. 

Well, you think, can’t show my face at The Hideout again. Your face is burning in embarrassment as Jack huffs an awkward chuckle and resituates his belt. 

“I guess my place is the first stop on the tour then. That is, if you still want to?” Jack’s eyes meet yours, obviously wanting to convey that if you’re no longer interested, that’s fine. But a little embarrassment was nothing compared to how you felt earlier in the day.

“I want to,” you say. For emphasis, you grab the back of his neck and give him a kiss that proves how much you want him. When you pull away, there’s a dazed smile on his face that may be the most endearing thing you’ve seen all day. He takes your hand in his and slowly opens the bathroom door. Luckily, Lou isn’t standing on the other side of it, but you’re sure he’s not far off, watching to make sure the two of you leave. 

You force yourself not to look over at the bar as you and Jack head towards the door. It’s not like you think the bartender will tell anyone, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at the moment. Jack’s car isn’t the nicest, but that’s not something you ever cared about anyway. If it gets you from point A to point B, that’s all that matters. The gentleman that he is, he holds the passenger’s side door open for you and you slip inside. He practically runs around to the driver’s side and it makes you let out a soft giggle. When’s the last time someone seemed this eager to spend time with you? And seem to be genuinely enjoying it?

The ride to his place is only about five minutes, and Jack makes sure you stay in the car until he can come around and open the door for you again. The apartment complex isn’t the nicest either, but what was in Hawkins? His place is on the first floor and you watch his hands as he fumbles with his keys. They’re large, calloused, from what you can only assume is years of work. Staring at them just makes you want to have them all over your body even more. 

As soon as he swings the door open, he’s all over you again. Frantic kisses keep his lips connected to yours as the two of you clumsily make your way to his couch. The material is worn, but not dirty, and you find yourself once again fumbling with his belt as he sits on the cushions.

“Picking up where we left off?” Jack teases, throwing his head back in ecstasy as you get back on your knees and take him into your mouth. The saltiness of sweat and pre-cum hits your tongue, his cock edging towards your throat when he brings his hands to the back of your head and helping you find the perfect rhythm.

“J-Jesus Christ,” he hisses, bucking his hips slightly and watching the tears involuntarily pooling along your lash line. “First time back in that dive bar in years, and I managed to find the girl who gives the best head in Hawkins.”

As if to prove his point further, you cup his heavy balls as you lick up and down his shaft. You keep at it for a few minutes, swirling your tongue around his overly sensitive tip before he pulls away.

“You’re good–too good; but ‘m not gonna lie to you,” he admits when you stare up at him with a puzzled expression, “I don’t bounce back as fast as those college guys you’re probably used to, and I gotta be inside your pussy tonight.”

You nod, tugging your shirt above your head as he helps you shimmy out of your jeans. “Like what you see?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away; just unhooks your bra and watches it fall to the floor. His gaze immediately snaps back to your bare breasts, beckoning you over to straddle his waist. His hard length presses against your lace panties, and the two of you moan in tandem.

“I don’t think you need these,” he mumbles, running his thumb over the lace before tearing them off completely. His middle finger easily finds your clit as he makes slow, deliberate circles.

You can’t help the way you grind against his touch, begging him to stretch you so good. The finger drags through your folds before he slips it inside you.

“So wet already, hmm? Pretty girl must need another finger.” You cry out in pleasure as his forefinger breaches your hole, pumping faster until you feel the familiar tension building in your core.

“N-Need your cock inside me,” you manage, barely able to formulate a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. 

He reaches into the pockets of the pants he discarded and fishes out his wallet to grab the foil-wrapped condom tucked away. Your eyes watch hungrily as he slips it over his cock, fucking his fist a few times to make sure he’s ready for you. His other hand grabs your waist and helps guide you until you’re hovering over his cock. Slowly, you begin to slide down, both of you letting out a groan as he first enters you. The stretch feels so good and from the way Jack’s squeezing his eyes closed and biting at his lower lip, you’d say it feels good for him as well.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Gives the best head and has the tightest pussy.”

Your only response is a whimper as you lower yourself even further, letting more of his cock fill you up. Once you no longer need your arms to steady yourself, you brace your hands on Jack’s chest. When your hands meet the fabric of his shirt though, you frown. Unable to form words as he finally bottoms out inside you, you tug at the dark material of his shirt, hoping he gets the hint. Reluctantly taking his hands off of you, he maneuvers out of his shirt and tosses it on the floor with his jeans. Most of his chest is covered in ink and you find your eyes trailing the different designs as you rock your hips back and forth. You slide your hands down to rest on his abdomen, since there’s no tattoos there, and you can get a better view of the artwork above. A snake is curled near his right collarbone and a little beneath that there are some sort of wings, but you’re not sure if it’s meant to be an angel, a bird, or something else. On the left side of his chest there is a bird, and it looks like a crow. There’s also a small “E” down near his heart that you can only assume is for an old girlfriend. 

Jack starts rocking his hips up to meet yours and it has your mind completely forgetting about the tattoos as you close your eyes in pleasure. His hands feel rough where they rest on the skin of your waist, but it feels so good when he slides them around to the front and grabs your breasts. You give a particularly hard thrust of your hips when his thumb grazes over your right nipple. There’s a breathy chuckle below you as he sees how sensitive you are to his touch. 

“Feel good, huh?” Jack asks. Breaths becoming more shallow, you nod your head. That’s not good enough for him, though. He gently pinches your nipple, just enough to get your attention, not enough to hurt. “Use your words for me, pretty girl.”

“It’s good,” you say. “So fucking good.” 

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So deep,” you say through a moan. “You’re so big. I feel you everywhere.” It’s true. He’s definitely the largest you’ve ever been with, and in your position, it feels like he’s splitting you open. His arm wraps around your middle as he adjusts himself so he’s sitting up more, your faces closer together this way. As your eyes slip closed again, his lips settle on yours, licking into your mouth hungrily. His teeth graze your bottom lip and it causes you to moan into his mouth. 

“You’re close,” he says. It’s not a question, but a bonafide statement; he already knows your body all too well. “Cream my cock, pretty girl. Just let go f’me.”

The coil snaps as he thrusts into you harder and faster than before. He spills into the condom with a groan of your name but doesn’t pull out right away. You keep him inside you as the two of you catch your breath, coming down from your highs.

“I should go,” you murmur, realizing that there is no way in hell that Andrea won’t rat you out for coming in late and smelling of sex. “Could you give me a lift back to the Hideout so I can get my car?”

Jack nods, discarding the used rubber in a nearby waste bin as you get dressed. You start to look for your underwear before remembering how he destroyed it, and it has you getting wet all over again. 

He kisses you one last time in the bar parking lot. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for round two,” you tease, “but maybe I’ll catch you here another time?”

“I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

You’re in your bedroom a few days later, frantically searching through your cassette collection for your favorite AC/DC tape. It’s not in the “As” section, where it would normally be, and you realize with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’d left it at Eddie’s a few weeks ago.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter. He was the only one allowed to borrow it–you’d gotten it signed by Angus Young when you saw the band in concert, and it meant everything to you. You needed it back.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer seems to fly by, now that you’re dreading facing him. You knock on the door once to no answer, but his van is parked in front, so you knock again, louder this time.

“I need my AC/DC tape,” you snarl as soon as he opens the door.

He rubs his face, combing his fingers through his hair. “Can I drop it off later? And then maybe we can talk?” he asks meekly.

“No.” You shake your head and put out your hand. “Go get the tape and give it to me now.”

Eddie glances around the trailer nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Look,” he starts, “now’s really not a good time…”

You scoff. “Why? Are you fucking another one of my family members? A cousin or something?”

A brief look of hurt flashes across Eddie’s face. He shakes his head and looks down at his feet before meeting your eyes again. “No. No, I wouldn’t…” he trails off with a sigh, sensing it’s useless—and he’s right. “My dad’s here.”

That’s one of the last things you expected to come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows raise in shock as you stare at him. Eddie hadn’t seen his father in years. Didn’t want to, according to him, no matter how many times his dad reached out. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, but you felt you never had the right to offer any advice since you couldn’t relate to his situation. And Eddie never asked, so you weren’t going to say anything. 

“Your dad?” you ask, just wanting to clarify. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He keeps speaking, but movement in the trailer behind him catches your eye. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing what you think you are. An airy giggle bursts out of you, drawing both the attention of Eddie and the man in the living room—Eddie’s father, apparently.

“What?” Eddie asks, brow furrowing in confusion. He looks behind him to see his dad, then back to you, unsure of what is making you laugh. “What’s so funny?”

Eddie’s dad stares at you, eyes widening as he comes forward to stand next to his son at the door. The shit-eating grin on your face must be confusing both of them, but it’s wholly impossible for you not to find this whole situation highly amusing. 

“Eddie?” his dad asks. “How do you know the pretty girl from the bar?”

Your ex-best friend’s gaze shoots to his father, head moving so fast that the curls whip around his head. Seeing them next to one another, you can see the resemblance. About the same height and build, same nose, and both covered in ink. Their curls are roughly the same color even if one has brown eyes and one has blue. 

“W-What?” Eddie asks, looking from his dad back to you.

“Hi, Jack,” you say, giving the older man a wink. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Eddie asks, the color draining from his face. You wait a beat while the realization sets in. “She’s…he’s…” He turns back to you. “You fucked my dad?”

You laugh, shrugging as you reply, “Guess so.” You waltz past your bewildered friend–ex-friend– grabbing Jack’s hand as you lead him back to Eddie's bedroom. 

“Wanna help me look for my tape?” you ask, hooking a finger through his belt loop and you bring your lips to whisper in his ear, “and maybe we can see about that round two?”

Jack grins, grabbing a handful of your ass as he follows you. “Looks like we found the next stop on our tour.”

[heytherecentaurs]

Burrow's End is an absolute masterpiece.

In the span of ten episodes Aabria and Co. weave an exciting and emotional adventure story about a family of sentient stoats. It delivers huge laughs, interesting societal criticism, remarkably emotional and well-acted scenes and concludes with a series of epilogue scenes that feel appropriate for each character, some heartfelt and subdued and others bigger than life and all the funnier for it.

Siobhan and Izzy play the perfect pair of siblings. They fight and argue but they also love each other. Jaysohn (Siobhan) looks up to Lila (Izzy) and believes she's the smartest stoat in the world (and by the end she probably is) and Lila hypes up her little brother's athletic skills. They both fully embodied these kids and I could watch them do fun stuff for more episodes. Give me a version of Saved by the Bell with them. Stoat by the Bell.

Brennan and Rashawn, playing sisters, also knock it outta the park, showing a more mature sibling dynamic. Brennan portrays Tula as the quintessential overtired single mother of excitable kids, and Rashawn as younger sister Viola straddles a very interesting line of being intimidating to outsiders but very much more naive and looking to her older sister when she starts a family.

Jasper as Thorn, a guy everyone just lets be a cult leader because he really wanted to, is fantastic. His is a difficult role as the only non-blood relative. Jasper plays Thorn with such real humanity of a guy in over his head and letting his ambition wife call the shots, but also one who agrees with her goal, really loves her and has moments of real menace. He has some very funny scenes, his big speech is perfect, and I just enjoy him.

Erika is wonderful. They play the epitome of generational trauma as many have said but as much trauma as Ava has, she is also loving and willing to learn. The fact Erika took this adversarial role is incredible. The tense dramatic scene primarily between Ava, Tula and Viola is amazing. They act their asses off and make hard choices that I imagine are difficult even for such an experienced player.

Aabria's DMing always feels fun. She doesn't get bogged down in the rules. She knows them. She plays by them. But as a master, she knows how and when to break them too. Her seasons on Dimension 20 have all had a tenseness, a particular edge to them that can give me anxiety during dramatic scenes between two characters. It always feel like one of her NPCs may say something devastating and the tension between characters reaches really thrilling heights. This is present in other seasons, but I don't think anyone does it as well as she does. The first season of hers to have battle maps, Aabria really swung for the fences and gave us some of the wildest maps to date.

Shout out to Carlos Luna's voice acting. He did an incredible job. And shout out to the whole crew who have put together one of the best seasons of D20. They keep finding ways to build on what's come before and they should be commended for it.

Dimension 20 is most successful when the concept is very streamlined. They don't do huge 100 episode campaigns capable of handling huge winding complex narrative, but short focused D&D stories, which is why many of the Side Quests have been so fantastic. They embody this philosophy most clearly, but it's apparent in the most beloved Intrepid Heroes seasons as well—John Hughes/High Fantasy, Game of Thrones/Candyland, Retrofuturism, Film Noir but in a Brain... Burrow's End fits this perfectly. It's streamlined concept paired with great storytellers and great chemistry sets it up to be a smash hit before it begins. And goddamn does it deliver.

Thanks Stupendous Stoats!