#WHY DID YOU DO THAT WALLACE

[cannedchelsea]

sparks

[heyitsno0ne]

Wallace Miku

[transexuality]

scott pilgrim takes off was good but i have my issues with it... from eps 1-5 i loved it & its perfect

[mushroompoisoning]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[leslieseveride]

gabby: "i wanna be detailed to arson" 🥺

boden: "why? why do you wanna leave me?!" 😠

gabby: "i-i'm pregnant!" 😨

boden: "GABRIELA DAWSON GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!! OH MY GOD!!!!" 😃💖

[l1tw1ck]

I wanna be Wallace’s sugar daddy 😋

bottom!ftm Wallace x top!amab reader

god me too

cw: sugar daddy/baby, daddy kink, creampie

After a year of dating, Wallace finally agreed to move in with you and he absolutely did not regret his decision. Aside from the fact that your house is both Huge and gorgeously decorated, he's been nothing short of pampered since moving in. It's a ginormous step up from the shitty apartment he shared with Scott. His closet is bigger than the living room and it's filled with designer clothing. He gets to live in luxury thanks to you and the only thing he has to do in return is have sex with you and that's not a difficult task at all for Wallace.

You gently drop all the shopping bags to the ground and turn to Wallace. He already knows what you're looking for and hurries over to you. He kneels down in front of you and quickly frees your length from your pants. "Thanks, Daddy." He kisses your tip before dragging his tongue seductively along your shaft, smiling as he does so. He likes teasing you and seeing your reactions.

"Don't tease me, not today, baby." You grip his hair. "I don't have the patience." Wallace looked too sexy today, his tight jeans were driving you crazy. You can't wait to take them off.

He licks his lips. "Then why don't we skip to the good part."

Wallace loses all his confidence and focuses entirely on his pleasure as you ram into him from behind, groping and slapping his ass. He knew he did the right thing by wearing those jeans. His pussy's just as tight. It's hard to fuck him with the way he keeps trying to suck you in. You reach over to his t-dick and he almost collapses from the pleasure. All he can do is moan and drool. "fu- fuck- fuckfuck-" He rolls his eyes back as he squirts on the bed, adding to the copious amounts of slick. You know he doesn't want you to stop so you don't, you fuck him even harder instead. He likes to be fucked until he passes out and you're always happy to oblige.

He always looks so pretty when he's sound asleep with cum dripping out of his cunt.

[gatorbites-imagines]

PLEASEE todd ingram x male reader just fluff & comfort helping him get over wallace that leads to hardcore makeout sesh ???

Todd Ingram x male reader

Headcanons

Tried to stick close to the request, but this also took a life of its own hehe. Hope you enjoy.

You were the guitarist of The Clash At Demonhead. Youd been friends with Todd for years and held a candle for him just as long, but you had accepted you’d never get him to be yours, with him being with Envy, and Ramona for that time.

You had never dreamed of him being into guys, so you tried to live your life with that Todd shaped hole in your heart. You became kinda the Cool gay guitarist in the band, which was probably why you clashed with Wallace Wells so much the first time you met him.

Kinda like putting two male hamsters together who are used to being the only one of their kind. You guys weren’t the same obviously, but there was something about it.

Maybe it was the fact that you showed zero attraction to Wallace, or that you weren’t someone who liked to gossip like he seemed to do. But when he started “running lines” with Todd, you became suspicious.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what they had been doing, only a man who got laid, and laid good, strutted around like Wallace Wells. You could even see how Todd was spiraling dealing with his sexuality.

But you were also friends with Envy, so you didn’t wanna spill the beans and instead acted like you had no idea what was going on. You never claimed to be a good person. So as the others were bust acting, you just sit in the back writing songs or tuning your guitar.

You tried not to let it break your heart when Todd pretty much confessed to Wallace in front of everyone. It made part of you feel worse somehow, like you weren’t enough. What did Wells have that you didn’t?

Was it his looks? His personality? His… everything? Maybe you were just the problem, and Todd had always liked guys somewhere inside him, but you just weren’t what he wanted.

There was no time for self-pity though, as everything fell apart, Envy left to become a solo act, and Todd was spiraling worse than you’d ever seen him. So, as his friend, it was your duty to pull up the bootstraps and drag him out of that funk.

He spends a lot of time crying about Wallace, and you guessed you could get it, the first time a boyfriend broke up with you, you had been pretty broken about it too. But you didn’t think Wells was all worth it, but maybe that was because you were still annoyed that he was apparently Todds gay awakening and not you.

It takes some time and a lot of bad romcom movies to get Todd in a better headspace, where he starts eating right again and taking care of himself. But as time passes, he seems to be doing better, thankfully. And even better, he stops talking about Wallace.

After the band falls apart, you guys become roommates, as you still make money off your music you did together. You start making solo music, but at some point, when Todd starts feeling better, he joins you.

Its making music that seems to get him out of that funk more than anything, and maybe its also spending time with you.

After everything, Todd starts to see sparks whenever he looks at you, or feel his entire body buzz when you touch him, or when you guys are sitting on your guys small couch and your legs are touching.

Todd doesn’t even realize he stops thinking about Wallace Wells after a while as you distract him by keeping him busy, be it through working out, music, watching movies, or anything else you can think of.

There is a time you guys even pass Wells and his group of friends, and Todd doesn’t even feel the misery he had felt last time. Even when his eyes meet Wallace’s he feels nothing, because you are grinning beside him, digging through a box of CDs looking like you had found gold.

Todd starts noticing things about you. Like how you are smiling so much more now that the band is over, or the way you are always playing with the strap of your guitar, or how you are always dotting down song ideas on any scrap of paper or tissue you can find.

He knows he’s hooked when one day when you guys are at the second cup, you start looking around for something to write on and Todd offers you his arm, because why not. And you just grin and start writing down lyrics on his arm, and Todd feels his entire face go red and his heart starts racing.

You still believe he likes Wallace, because the human mind just works like that. So, when you one day find him sitting on the couch with his face in his hands, you assume its because of his unreturned crush.

You go about it like you always do, finding vegan snacks and putting on a movie, and plotting down on the couch, pulling Todd on top of you so you can “bro cuddle”

Todd of course goes bright red as you hold him, completely speechless and with no idea what to do with himself. But he knows how it went last time he tried to confess, so he starts spiraling again in fear of rejection.

Its not hard to sense he’s spiraling again, so you grab him to look him in the eyes to ask what is wrong. And Todd, deciding to bite the bullet, kisses you. You freeze up, eyes wide as his hands grip the sides of your jaw, kissing you like his life depends on it.

Grabbing his face, you push him back to really look at him, look at his almost glowing red face, and swear you even catch sparks of his vegan superpowers run across his face and arms.

“I’m… I’m not a rebound of something Todd” you force out, not wanting to let the hope bloom in your chest, the rejection you’d felt in the past still stinging. Hes quick to try and stutter out that, that’s not what he wants or means, but he’s horrible at it. Its only thanks to your many years as his friend that you know what he means. You swear your heart starts doing backflips.

Before either of you can think about it too much, you pull him back into the kiss, hands gripping the back of his neck as Todds fingers wound through your hair, hanging on like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

Hes unsurprisingly pliable, letting his lips split open when you tongue at them, letting you control the kiss as you please, tiny huffs and whimpers leaving him as you stroke the top of his mouth with your tongue.

Hes sensitive, and though he has a lot of experience with kissing from his exes, Todd still seems timid with you, like he doesn’t know what you personally enjoy and he wants to please you.

You have no idea how long you guys kiss, for you there’s years of pent up feelings, and for Todd there’s very strong feelings he still cant seem to fully comprehend the vastness of. Theres so many sparks as your lips are locked, spit running down chins and soft noises leaving you both as tongues rub together and across teeth as you try to explore the others mouth as much as possible.

When the kiss finally disconnects and you pull back, it’s impossible not to cackle at him. Todds pupils are blown huge, his face even redder than before, and you fear he’s gonna get a nosebleed from all the blood rushing to his head.

Todds hair is sticking up in every which direction, almost looking like the spikey style it takes on when he’s using his vegan powers. His lips move like he wants to say something, but no words form, only making you laugh more.

Instead you just pull him closer, letting him hide his red face in your neck as you rub his back, giving him all the time he needs to collect himself, but now he’s yours, and you are never gonna let him go as long as he wants you around.

[phregnancy]

i saw someone say they blanked on coming up with tit preshow questions so here are 40 questions i would ask that you can take

- does phil consume cannabis in any form for his migraines

- list three book recommendations

- will sister philip made an appearance for halloween this year

- will phil try a slutty halloween costume from spirit halloween

- if you had to change your height, what height would you be

- who bought the precious baby angel shirts

- can phil walk us through his philognese cooking process

- are you ordering deliveroo multiple times a day or do you get enough for leftovers

- what was dan’s clumsiest moment recently

- phil what are your favorite musicians/bands that aren’t muse

- dan what was the last song you learned to play on piano

- what is one aspect of your personality that you feel has changed the most over the last fifteen years

- phil once said he knows how to make salad, what does he put in his salads

- what is your least favorite liquor

- what was the most sentimental gift you’ve received recently

- has phil hurt himself since the rib breakage

- dan have you taken any color blindness tests since hearing about this theory

- phil shares little linguist facts every now and then, dan, is there anything you learned in university that’s worth sharing

- when was the last time you cried and what prompted it

- fmk: chappell roan, janelle monáe, kehlani

- who is your favorite character from scott pilgrim, and you can’t pick wallace

- what bingeworthy tv series have you watched recently

- if you couldn’t get a corgi or a shibe, what type of dog would you get

- how would you cope with going bald

- if you could each change one thing about each other what would it be

- has phil gotten more comfortable around babies since becoming a guncle

- what are your most embarrassing food moments (public spillage, being caught eating something you shouldn’t, etc)

- can’t be career related, what is one thing you both are looking forward to

- what studio ghibli character do you most relate to

- what is something not many people know about you / would assume about you

- what is your favorite quality in the other person

- has phil always been a gentle princess or is this a phlonde-era development

- when eating cereal, do you prefer to use a tablespoon or a teaspoon

- if dan is concerned with phil stealing his cereal, why doesn’t he start buying two boxes

- phil have you had any interesting dreams lately

- if dan has to cook, what is his go-to meal

- where did you get your mario piranha bouquet from

- you two have gone to many award shows and events wearing two button suits, with both buttons buttoned. are you aware that you’re always supposed to leave the bottom button open

- any nailsinki plans? will phil get his nails painted this time?

- what do you like more about manchester than you do london

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (1)

Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Reader and Spencer face the aftermath of their tryst. wc: 2,8k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"YOU NEED TO LEAVE."

Since when did her life come to this?

She wasn't sure what to make of when the words softly left his lips. The words weren't exactly pronounced in a way that the urgency was prominent, but she could still sense the weight of them as she stared into the dark walls of his bedroom, sprawled out across the bed of this foreign man she had spent the past two hours with.

What was his name again? Stephen? Sean? Or was it Sebastian?

It definitely started with an S.

Her eyes slowly made their way toward him, eying his tall figure as he carefully walked over to his drawers. He awkwardly tripped over a piece of her clothing which lay on the floor before mumbling some incoherent words. He shot her a dubious look past his shoulder and turned his body away, quickly grabbing the first thing he saw on top of his pile of clothes.

His sudden modesty seemed amusing to her when it was barely minutes ago they had shared the sex-induced fantasy of sharing body heat between complete strangers. It was as if he wasn't the one thrusting above her, eyes glazed in desire and mouth open in ecstasy, reaching the peak of his high with her legs wrapped around his narrowed waist.

Surely he hadn't forgotten all of that?

She prompted herself on her elbows and found the piece of clothing he had grabbed in his haste was a pair of brown pants and a nice clean dark shirt. She watched him again and under her scrutinizing gaze, he backed away even further.

His sudden discomfort should've offended her, but it didn't. Somehow it intrigued her how much he was trying to be oblivious of everything around him—the lustful tryst that took place moments ago. The naked woman under his covers. The sudden shrill of his phone ringing on the bedside table.

The latter seemed to catch his attention as he glanced at the source of sound with an alert expression. He crossed the room and quickly answered the call.

"Yes?" There was a muffled reply from the other end before he glanced at the still-naked woman staring at him with curiosity. He cleared his throat again and gave her a look. "I need to take this."

She shrugged. "Sure."

She saw him hesitate for a split second before slipping out of his room, throwing a short reply to the receiving end of his call that didn't go unheard. "Yes, Garcia, I have company." More mumbling. "What? I'm not answering that..."

His words were cut off as he closed the door behind him, leaving her to grasp the situation she had put herself in.

Having a one-night stand wasn't something she often did. She wasn't sure it ever happened again since her freshman year of college when sleeping with a senior at a raging party would solidify her college experience. It seemed right at that time. It was what everybody was doing and her innocent mind believed it was a good idea to expand her nonexistent romantic life.

New place, new experience, new beginnings.

The experience wasn't so bad. Brandon Wallace—who was now happily married according to his recent social media post—wasn't exactly the best lover she ever had, but he also wasn't that bad. It was the awkward moment after the endeavor that made her avoid any repeated situations with somebody she barely knew.

Which was why she was questioning why she let that exact avoidance happen tonight. Why she had stepped into her favorite bar on a random Wednesday night and laid her eyes onto the awkward man sitting a few stools away from her.

Maybe it was the way he seemed out of place. Wearing a crisp blue shirt and a vest over it, he sat in a poised manner while constantly wiping down the bar counter with the napkin he seemed to keep requesting the bartender for.

She was there because she needed the kick of alcohol to calm down the stress from her current work assignment. Jamison, her strict boss who didn't take no for an answer, was starting to make her consider the act of murder. But committing such a heinous crime wasn't exactly nifty, so alcohol was the safe bet.

And thus, what was he here for? The cold beer sitting in front of him was barely touched as he looked around the room in a very uncomfortable manner.

Maybe the fact that she was sitting in an almost empty bar had loneliness wash over her, or maybe it was the alcohol finally kicking in, that she found herself making her way over to him. She was only going to greet him, introduce herself, and remark on how he stuck out like a sore thumb when he clearly was trying to keep to himself.

The hue of the bar lights reflected into a golden halo around his head. She slid beside him, tipped her drink towards his way, and gave him a simple smile.

He shifted in his seat and turned sideways, throwing her a questioning look. Up close, she could see his features clearly. The sharpness of his jaw, his hooded eyes, the unruly mess of brown hair on top of his head. She could tell he wasn't sure how to react to her sudden appearance, but he didn't seem to mind.

She sat there, her lips inching wider at the frown forming on his brows. How could someone be awkward yet adorable at the same time? Y/n was about to introduce herself when he suddenly sat forward, threw her a hesitant smile, and slowly asked, "Do you have any change?"

The random question startled her. "Excuse me?"

"I... I need to pay for my drink."

She shot him a ludicrous look, not sure she was hearing him right. Was he really trying to ask a stranger to pay for his drink? So much for spending the night with what looked like good company. But before she could counter her disappointment, he reached out his hand and in a swift motion revealed a ten-dollar bill from the back of her ear.

"Never mind.” He waved the money in front of her face and cleared his throat. “Found it.”

She blinked, once, twice, trying to comprehend the past few seconds. Then her lips twisted into a wide grin, his own lips twitching into a shy smile.

His attempt at an introduction based on a silly magic trick tugged her heart in a way that had her leaning closer, fingers tracing across his other hand that rested on the table. She didn't know what had impulsed her to be so brazen. It was very unlike her to show interest in the opposite sex, but here she was, touching the warmth of his skin.

But then his breath hitched and her stomach dropped. What the hell was she thinking? Touching a complete stranger without consent as if she was trying to maul him in public.

She shook her head and backed away, an apology already hanging at the tip of her tongue when he suddenly leaned in and wrapped a hand around her wrist. The gesture was very innocent, but somehow his fingers manage to burn her skin. She looked up and held his gaze, found the same bashful smile still playing on his lips, and relaxed at the warmth radiating from his body.

And then the rest was history, to say the least.

Yet even after the travel from the bar to his place, after the haste of removing each other's clothes, and after the post-orgasm that left them both satisfied—although to be completely honest, she would've been more satisfied if he'd let her have her second orgasm—she was starting to question her decision.

She finally threw his covers away and slipped out of his bed. She picked up all her clothing scattered around the room and slowly dressed herself as she carefully tried to listen to the conversation in the other room. But all she heard was muffled voices, and deciding that she couldn't pick out his exact words, she tuned out his voice and smoothed down her hair with her fingers.

Feeling more presentable, she stepped out of his room and finally took in the personal space he lived in. Now that she wasn't preoccupied with unbuckling his belt, she realized how dark his apartment actually was.

There were stacks of books lined up on the walls and scattered papers laying around every corner. He clearly wasn't a clean freak. Although he did seem to dislike public spaces, and honestly she couldn't argue on that when her mind considered the sticky, sugary residue that coated the floorboards and every other surface of the bar.

His hushed voice sounded aggravating and she turned to find him standing in what looked like his kitchen, his back facing her. Not wanting to interrupt him, she decided to look around her surroundings, eying the few framed certificates hanging on one side of his walls. There were a lot of certified achievements he was definitely very proud of with his name glorified on each frame.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

His name was Spencer!

She let out a chuckle. She wasn't exactly good at remembering names. Hold on—doctor Spencer Reid?

Her eyes went wide. But before she could feed her curiosity, she heard footsteps coming closer behind. She quickly turned away and found him glaring at his phone as he strode into the room.

"Bad call?"

Spencer—it was nice to finally put a name on him—abruptly looked up. His eyes studied her in bewilderment as if realizing she was still there. Then his expression slightly softened as he threw his phone away on his couch. "Not really, it was a work thing."

She raised her eyebrows. "You still work this late?"

"I don't exactly have a scheduled working hour."

There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask. What kind of work did he have to be getting calls this late? Why was he inside that bar when he clearly looked like he didn't want to be there? Was he really a doctor? And why did he look so adorable with that frown across his face?

There was something strange and hollow in his eyes that she couldn't quite put on as his hand rubbed over the back of his neck. She could sense the awkwardness stretching between them and needed to fill in the silence.

"So..."

"So..."

She let out an awkward laugh. He, on the other hand, started to fumble with his words as he suddenly spoke, "Did you know that awkward silence is the result of a disconnect between people?" She peered up at him with raised eyebrows. "When there is nothing to say, or maybe one person feels uncomfortable in a situation and doesn't know how to respond."

She blinked in confusion. But he wasn't finished.

"Statistically speaking, 80% of communication is nonverbal, whereas 20% is verbal. So in a way, silence can also communicate just as much information as speaking does. It is used to express anger, sadness, excitement, and other emotion. It can also create tension in a conversation or release it..." He trailed off before letting out a sigh. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"You most definitely are," she confirmed. "Where did that suddenly come from?"

He looked away as a blush crept on his cheeks. "I have an incredibly active imagination. It—uh, it leads to a tendency for me to ramble as my thoughts are constantly flowing."

"And you just know all these random facts?"

"I have an eidetic memory."

"You don’t say?" Her sarcasm was followed by eying the framed achievements plastered on his wall before glancing back at his confused face. She sighed. "Look, I'm not better at this than you are. Let's just... I don't know, thank each other? Say goodbye? Shake our hands?"

His eyes lit up as another piece of information filled his brain. "You know, the number of pathogens shared during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to..." He trailed off again and suddenly gulped, mentally kicking himself when he realized the fact he was about share. "...kiss."

She couldn't help the smirk twitching on her lips. "Is that so?"

He absentmindedly nodded as his eyes glanced toward her mouth. She instinctively took a step closer, noticing the tension in his body as he quickly looked away. This man had just flirted with her using an adorable magic trick, had his head between her thighs minutes ago, and reached an earth-shattering orgasm... yet he had the audacity to act all flustered.

She should probably leave. That was what he wanted moments ago, wasn't it? The words came out of his mouth the moment he checked his phone before jumping out of bed at lightning speed to dress his naked body. He needed to be somewhere. He had this somewhat confidential work he had to do.

Yet somehow he was warm and her hands were surprisingly very cold. The heat radiating from his body called out to her and without registering what she was about to do, she softly placed the palm of her hands on his chest.

She was internally screaming when she inhaled a sharp breath, his scent suddenly engulfing her senses. He smelled slightly sweet with a hint of spice; a woody, earthy musk that was mixed with his natural scent of sweat and hormones. She peered up into his eyes, traveling down to his cheekbones before they rested on his lips.

A riot of emotion burst inside her as she saw his tongue flicking out and holy shit—she just stared at him, completely, utterly enraptured.

Her focus was on his hot breath against her mouth, his lips a mere inches away from hers. He was so close she could practically hear the fast pace of his heartbeat. She could feel him everywhere, his hard body flushed against hers, his head moving closer to her and—

Then his damn phone started to ring again and all her senses went to alert. She quickly took a step back.

Now that was her cue to leave.

And it was a pity because whether she liked it or not, a part of her wanted to stay. But that was not an option. He wanted her to leave and she needed to do just that. She needed this to be a one-time thing.

Because there was never going to be another time. The moment she walked out the front door, they were back to being strangers. She would go back to her life and he would go back to his, probably back to his seemingly not-so-normal job with the way he described his working hours. Or the lack of it, anyway.

His phone stopped its ring and he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He was back to being awkward and she was back to being rational. Although her heart was beating fast and she was as flustered as he was, she didn't him to know what, especially when it seemed like he was about to kick her out again for the second time.

She was too busy oscillating between stunned, mortified, and turned on. She refused to blush. She refused to appear even an ounce embarrassed.

His phone rang again and he looked flustered about what to do. She helped him decide by grabbing her bag that was conveniently hanging by the door. "I should probably go."

She knew she was slightly disappointed, but she'd be damned if he knew the truth. Her mother used to describe her as a spiteful person ever since she was young. But then again, was it so wrong to feel that way? She figured she was just evening the misery out. If something was making her unhappy she felt it was her right to bring at least equal measures of unhappiness.

It seemed relatively immature, but she didn't feel like caring especially how her night had turned out. She took a deep breath and worked out her pettiness.

"Thank you for tonight... Stephen."

He suddenly tensed. "It's Spencer."

She studied the frown on his face. God, she was evil. She would probably regret this childish behavior of hers, although that was something she could deal with later. The very least she could do now was to give him a proper goodbye before she turned her back towards him for good.

"Well, good night, Spencer."

She wasn't sure he even remembered her name or whether he was just as petty as she was. It was more likely the latter considering he had an eidetic memory. "Good night."

She gave him a final nod. He answered by throwing her an awkward wave, a tight-lipped smile, and an even deeper frown as she slipped into the cold air.

>> NEXT PART

[om-nom-snom]

[Domestic Chores]

Rika x Reader, Leon x Reader, Steven x Reader

Rika <3

Rika is very on top of household chores, despite her relaxed nature

We all have that one chore we hate having to do around the house, however, even esteemed members of the elite four

Rika hates washing the dishes

Honestly, she'd be happy to eat exclusively off paper plates

You bet that every time it's her turn to wash up she insists on you keeping her company

"You can't leave your ol' pal to suffer through this alone..."

"You're my girlfriend Rika, not my pal-"

Rika is not above picking you up and setting you down on the counter beside her

She tries to kiss you until you have push her away and remind her to clean

Absolutely puts on some quiet music and insists you tell her about your day

And, naturally, she blows soap bubbles at you if you get distracted or silent

Expect plenty of dishwash bubble fights with her around

If there's anything that makes washing up fun for Rika, it's having you around

Leon <3

Leon is a domestic king

Real husband material right there

Unfortunately, there's one chore he can't be trusted to do alone

Grocery shopping

After multiple failed attempts in the past, it became a mutual agreement that grocery shopping would be a joint outing

He tries to make it like a mini weekly date, though

Buys you both drinks beforehand, coffee or bubble tea are Leons go-to choices

As you go through the store Leon is often in charge of the shopping list

He does always keep a hand on the trolley as you steer it, and him, through the store

"Oh, we forgot onions, I'll run back and grab them! ...Stop giving me that look."

He has good intentions but as soon as he's out of your sight it'll be hours before you find him again

Exactly why he needs to either hold you or the trolley

Leon is also definitely the type to slip extra goodies into the shopping when you aren't looking, usually things he knows you like

Steven <3

Steven has never had any issues staying on top of chores, when he is home

Having a regular cleaner that comes in a couple times a month certainly helps with that

Though, something he insists on caring for himself are the houseplants

What started as an off hand joke Wallace made has now turned into a new hobby for Steven

He does include you in it too, from shopping to repotting to watering

After his extensive houseplant research he'll point out and id any plant he sees

"Look at that one! Most people would think it's a monstera but it's actually a pothos, did you know they can have fenestrated leaves too?"

He gets you both matching Pokémon watering cans too

Steven has a wailmer one and he got you a load one

Before he goes on trips he entrusts you with plants care, too

Steven asks how they are when you two call, and when he gets back you can expect a very sweet 'thank you' kiss from the champion

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

quotes i wanna see in jason todd fics

i mayyyy or may not write about these but we shall see

Why...didn't you make me good enough...so that you could've loved me?

~ the last days of judas iscariot by stephen adly guirgi

I never was a child I was pulled right out of the sea And the salt, it never left my body...

~ they'll clap when you're gone by chelsea wolfe

My audience is God, because who the hell else could understand me? Who else has been dead twice?

~ half hanged mary by margaret atwood

I have a very childlike rage, and a very childlike loneliness.

~ Richey Edwards

I am the bad daughter, the freedom fighter, the shaper of death masks. I am the snake, I am the crone.

~Aswang by Barbara Jane Reyes

i did not mean to be cruel. i swear i am good i am good i am kind. i have love inside of me. some place far far away.

~ not actually sure where this is from but if anyone knows the source please let me know!

Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

~ David Foster Wallace

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This may be me at my best.

~ calling a wolf a wolf by kaveh akbar

Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I'm not? Tell me, mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn't?"

~ @dvoyd

If you love me, Henry, you don't love me in a way I understand.

~ wishbone by richard siken

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

~ wild geese by mary oliver

[cameronspecial]

Hi, so I have a scenario in mind; where Zach loses his memories and instead of fixating on a relationship, he can't even remember having, he instead finds himself falling for his best friend, and conveniently, the only person he does remember. And it's just Y/n trying to convince him of all the good times he and his girlfriend had (because she's a "good friend that wants him to be happy even if it's not with her") but he couldn't care less, because none of the superficial shit she tells him, compares to the memories he has of her.

She'd be like, "Oh, you two are so cute, omg 🙄 you take walks together, you eat together, everyone thinks you look cute together. Blah blah blah..."

And he's basically like, "and what? A dog and his owner could do that. But us? That's the real shit, baby." Sorry, this got long xx

That Shit Has Nothing On Us

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

When Zach got hit by the car, the only person he could remember was Y/N. Even though they were best friends and attached by the hip before the accident, he, now, clings to her like Winnie the Pooh to a honey pot and not in the same way he did before he got hit. He becomes more affectionate and touchy. He always wants to have skin-to-skin contact with her in some way. He always wants to be around her. She’s tried to tell him that he has Zoey Wallace. That she is his girlfriend, he just doesn’t care. Sure, she has had a crush on them since they were five, but she knows he is Zoey’s and she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship. 

They are watching the Scream franchise and he knows they don’t scare her, yet he insists on wrapping his arm around her. “I don’t know why you wanted to have a marathon. They aren’t scary and are so predictable,” she complains, groaning at the not-surprising death of another character. Zach shrugs, “Come on. Don’t tell me you aren’t a little scared.” His arm brings her closer to his side. “Zach, they literally do the oh no the killer isn’t actually killed bit in every movie,” she points out. He grins at her, “Well, if you don’t want to watch the movies, then we can always make out.” “You have a girlfriend, Zach. You guys used to be so in love. You would go on walks to practice together. Kick the ball around. Eat with each other,” she argues, moving out of his hold. He gets up and looks into her eyes, “Everything I’ve done and talked about with her is all surface-level shit. It’s like I’m a dog and she’s my owner. But us? That’s the real shit, Baby. Everything I remember about us has always been so much deeper than anything I have with her.” “You can’t compare the present with the past. You just don’t know the deeper stuff you’ve had with her,” Y/N disagrees with a shake of her head. 

“I’m comparing the present with the present Y/N. She’s always on the move with life and stuff and never takes the time to just stop. She never lets us get to know each other again.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Zach?”

“I want you to say that you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Not anymore.”

Y/N freezes at his words. “W-what? What do you mean you not anymore?” He gives her a smile, “We broke up. I didn’t feel it was right to keep dating her when I’m in love with you.” “Y-you’re in love with me?” she asks with hope in her eyes. He steps closer to her, “Since we were five years old.” Her arms wrap around his neck and their lips meet in a fiery kiss. Who knew amnesia could be the start of a beautiful thing? 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[freak-accident419]

playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

(gif by @joshfutturman) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | More parts coming soon

Summary: When his mother hosts a party and expects him to bring a proper date, Derek is obligated to comply. Not wanting to disappoint her any further (mainly driven by the rumor of her cutting him off), Derek recruits his best friend to pose as his fake partner. However, the two have to keep up this lie when a series of constant, luxurious events are held, causing several shenanigans to ensue.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content: gender-neutral reader, swearing, reader is his best friend, Derek’s mommy issues, fake dating

Ao3 Link

(A/n: this is my first miniseries!! I will also be posting this on Ao3, so please show your support there as well. Thank you to everybody who showed me love and support. Special thanks to Skye especially :) enjoy!!)

-

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have a flat white with oat milk. You know, the usual.”

For the most part, Derek would go about his usual schedule, which deprived of responsibility and stress. In fact, his recent routine invariably consisted of privileged luxuries, little to no work tasks, and drunken parties every night.

Phone in hand, Derek skated through the office on his skateboard as he waited for the drink that he ordered at the coffee bar. He checked for any texts until he swiped out of the Messages app to surf through his social media. And as he tapped through his friends’ stories on Instagram, video footage that caused Derek to reminisce the events of last night’s party took over his screen.

It was a typical night out for him, actually. He would invite his group of friends to clubs or venues and indulge in the colorful strobe lights, bass-boosted music, and alcoholic drinks. You had always tagged along with him, as you were his best friend, getting drunk and partying together. Every night, he would get abysmally wasted and driven home by his employees. Ultimately, “reckless” was nearly an understatement to describe Derek Danforth—alongside irresponsible and hedonistic.

He smirked at the Instagram stories that his friends had posted of him taking a body shot off of a skimpy stripper. Ultimately, you took the best video of the scene because unlike the other posted videos, the camera was much clearer and barely shaking. Chuckling to himself as he hears your voice chanting for him in the video, he tucked his phone back in his pocket and skated back to the counter to retrieve his coffee.

“Flat white with oa—”

“Beautiful, thank you,” he replies dismissively, grabbing the cup that the worker handed him and continued to skate along the hallway, past several other employees.

Expecting the next hour to be full of pampering and Tibetan singing bowls, a stern, yet familiarly lavish voice suddenly stops him in his tracks.

“Derek.” The young billionaire stiffens at the sound of his name being called. “May I have a word?”

An irritated sigh left Derek’s lips as he stood still on his skateboard, neglecting to turn his head around to face the older man. He then rolls his eyes and finally got off of his skateboard, kicking it up in his hand.

***

“You have to clean up your act, young man,” Westwyld states as Derek slouches pettishly in his chair.

Great. It was just another one of his needless lectures again. Why did he even bother? From the moment Derek walked into Westwyld’s dreadful office, he already sensed that he would be given another ‘serious talk’ from the man who tries to act like his father after having a romantic past with his mom.

In response to his useless demand, Derek scoffs with a smug curl on his lips, taking a short drag from his vape pen. It was almost amusing to him that Wallace believed his lectures would give him the slightest motivation to “do better.”

“Isn’t your job covering up my ‘fuckups’? Keeping me out of the tabloids and the headlines, keeping my reputation clean?” He sneered, impatient with the predictable redundancy that Westwyld brought onto him. “Isn’t that all you’re good for?”

Westwyld sighs, not very keen on having to explain himself for the thousandth time. “Derek, my job is to keep Danforth Enterprises safe, to keep your mother safe. Her reputation, her name. For thirty-five years, I worked as the director of the world’s intelligence agency, but I chose this job as a favor to your mother.”

Derek rolled his eyes carelessly. It was the same, bothersome routine when Wallace would scold him and then run his mouth about how he could have had any other job, but chose security for Danforth Enterprises for the sake of President Jessica Danforth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you tell me this for, like, a billion fucking times,” Derek retorts with a harsh scoff, “You know what, I don’t have the fucking time for this.”

He stood up instantly, storming off until Wallace’s next words made him freeze, bringing a chill up his spine.

“Your mother’s thinking of cutting you off, you know that?”

Derek processed Westwyld’s words for a second, sensing the threat behind it. His own mother wouldn’t do that to him. She completely adores him. Right? It was just another empty threat—everything had always worked out for Derek in the long run. So he kept his cool as always, scoffing in disbelief with a breathy chuckle. “Um, no. No, she’s not. She wouldn’t.” He turned around to face Wallace, walking back up to him.

“Everybody’s talking about it, Derek. A rumor, you would call it, but she spoke to her advisers. Money may play a big role in the grand scheme of things, but public image as well. I cannot keep covering for you, Derek. The endless social media posts of your immature, juvenile actions, the soirées, the strippers, it’s getting out of control,” Wallace spat sourly, evidently sick of Derek’s shenanigans and recklessness. “Even the tiniest information can spill, and your reputation will grow rotten. And your reputation is your mother’s. I won’t let you take this risk, Derek, you need to clean up your act now.”

***

Derek left Westwyld’s office slightly pissed, sipping his coffee as he rode through the hallway once again in his skateboard. Suddenly he felt his phone buzzing, so he grabbed it out of his pocket to look who was calling him.

Well, shit. Speak of the fucking devil.

It was his mother.

Taking a deep breath, Derek stared at the contact name and gulped nervously before finally clicking ‘accept’.

“Hi, Mom… What’s, um… What’s up?”

For the first time ever in Derek’s life, one of Westwyld’s lectures actually intimidated him.

Jessica Danforth was an incredibly busy woman. Hell, she was the President of the United States for fuck’s sake, there was no way she would call up her son for something casual. It had to be for something urgent, which inevitably provoked fear in him—all he could think about was getting disinherited. “Hi, Derek,” she says into the phone, sort of in a disappointed sigh. “I was just checking in, making sure you are able to attend the party on Saturday evening. You are able to come, yes?”

Derek let out a soft, gratified breath, relieved that his mother wasn’t calling him to discuss his reputation and financial situation. But either way, it seemed that he was still in deep shit; Derek forgot all about that party.

His mother spoke about it several times in the past, inviting him almost an entire month ago. She made it very clear about how important it was to her, but Derek was completey oblivious to it. It was either some kind of gala or charity event, but he’d been too baked recently to even remember.

“O-oh, um, party, right, that party…” he replies dubiously, the information barely coming back to his mind. “Yeah, um, yeah, of course.” He blinks for a moment, trying to remember the information about the party. Right. It was some kind of charity auction. Raising money for a good cause. Extremely tasteful and elegant, the kind of boring parties that Derek was never a fan of.

“Alright. Good,” she says briefly. Jessica bit her bottom lip hesitantly. “Derek, there’s something I also need to mention.”

Oh shit, here it is. The slight panic returned to him once again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Oh, and, um, what’s—what’s that, Mom?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and trying to sound calm.

“Your… your public image has been in a very rough state lately, especially with all of the partying posts that your friends shared online. The hard drinking and the strippers, Derek, it’s just… It’s affecting how your investors and all these businessmen perceive you. They won’t take you seriously with all of your recklessness. Just… Settle down or something. Find a really nice girl, or boy, or whoever, and take them out to dinner,” she urges. “I want you to stop partying and… hooking up with strangers so much. Please be presentable at the party, Derek. I’d—I’d even be pleased if you were able to bring a date.”

Derek didn’t process the words the moment they left his mouth abruptly, blurting out a blatant lie. “Actually, that’s what I was going to bring up. I actually have a date to the party.” Shit. No. No, you don’t, you fucking idiot.

“What?” She asks curiously, completely taken aback. “Are you serious, Derek?”

“Yeah! And, um, we’ve been serious for a long time, but uh… yeah, they are helping me become a better, uh, man, and I will no longer be reckless. My reputation will be restored, so no drastic measures have to be done,” he says, digging himself in a deeper hole as he tries to indirectly convince his mother that she shouldn’t cut him off. If those rumors were to be true, at least.

“Well… Derek, if you’ve been seeing them for a long time already, then what was that scandalous video clip of you and that… that stripper, posted everywhere online?” She questions, thinking to herself about the logistics of Derek’s situation.

“Oh yeah, that was—see, that was an old video. People have just been reposting it recently, you know the algorithm. I—Actually, I, uh, I met my partner on the day after that video was taken, and they, uh, yeah, they convinced me to be a better man, donate to charity, all that… philanthropy shit—uh, stuff.” Derek had attempted to simultaneously make his mother believe he had a respectable date to the party, as well as being a much better person than he was before.

“Which was when?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, like.. gotta be a few months ago, give or take,” he answers briefly.

“Alright, and who is this date of yours?” She finally asks.

“Oh, right, that would, um, that would be my partner,” he answers in a mumble, nodding to himself with clarity.

“Derek,” she sighs exasperatedly.

“Oh. Their name? Their name, you mean? Their name is, uhh, umm… Actually, I would love to surprise you, Mom!” He answers immediately.

“Seriously?” She scoffs with a disappointed sigh. Jessica knew her son like the back of her hand. Hell, she birthed the kid, having to push out his dumb, big head out of her snatch. The point was, she could always sense when he was lying, or at least when there was something fishy. Sadly, she frequently expected very less of him, unbeknownst to Derek.

“Yeah, Mom! Trust me, they’re really kind and they’re a good person, and I am—I am just thrilled to introduce the two of you,” he exaggerates pridefully, hoping to eventually sell it.

“I worry about you, Derek,” she sighs softly. “Fine… Fine, whatever, Derek, I’ll see them at the party. Please promise me that. Just… Just be good, okay?”

Derek smiled to himself. “I will. And I promise. I won’t disappoint you. I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I am so royally fucked,” Derek states bluntly.

Later on in the evening, Derek was hanging out with you as always, at the club you two would habitually meet up at. You were his best friend for many years already and earned the position of being his right-hand man ever since you first met in college.

“Why? What did you do this time?” You reply lazily, sipping your drink. You always expected bullshit from Derek. He always got himself into trouble that he would make other people fix. It wasn’t very bothersome to you, personally. You enjoyed hanging out with him and his privilege was just a big bonus.

“Well… So, I was speaking with Wallace—”

“Ew—”

“Yeah, I know,” he scoffs. “As I was saying… The guy pulled me into his office and, get this? There’s a whole fuckin’ rumor that my mom is going to cut me off.”

“What?” You perked up, sitting up from your previous slouching position and looked at Derek seriously. “No way. That—No, that’s not true. You’re—You’re a full-time Mama’s Boy, the fucking suck-up of the century, there’s no way she would do that to you!”

Derek shrugged as he sipped his bourbon, the blue lights in the bar beginning to give him a headache. “Yeah, well… Remember that… that super dope video of me drinking a shot from that one stripper’s belly button? What was her name?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in deep thought. “Vixen?”

“No, she was last week’s. Was it Trixie?”

“No, that was way back during the New Year’s Eve party,” you recalled.

“Candy? No…”

Enthusiastically, you slapped the wooden surface of the counter with your palm. “Tiffany!”

“Yes, fuck, it was Tiffany!” Derek exclaimed. “Okay, well, you recall all those videos of her and me posted everywhere, right?”

“Hell, yeah! I had the best fucking recording, man,” you chuckle softly, thinking about the wild night before.

“Yeah, you did,” he slightly smiled, “but, uh… It’s getting viral and well… I don’t fuckin’ know why Wallace can’t do more cover-up shit for me, but because I’m ‘ruining my reputation’ with this, it’s gonna give my mom a bad reputation too? So, like… Wallace said there was talk about her… cutting me off the inheritance or whatever.”

“Shit…” you blew a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… That’s really tough, man. Look, I’m sure that there’s a reason why it was solely a rumor and she’s not actually thinking of that. She loves you, you’re the last physical form of proof of your dad, and ultimately, you’re a manipulative suck-up. You’re not getting cut off anytime soon, dude.”

Derek scoffs, pinching his eyebrows together. “Well, its too late because I sorta fucked up a bit more.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? How?”

“My mom was so insistent about me getting a date to the party this weekend and I think she believes that me being in an exclusive, healthy relationship or whatever would improve my reputation,” he explains, humming a small mutter of gratitude as a bartender walked over to refill his drink. “So… I lied and told her that I had a date already. And that I’ve been dating them for a few months already and they’re helping me improve so that she would have no reason to cut me off.”

“But like… the video of you and Tiff—”

“I know the video of me and Tiff!” He exclaims in frustration. “I told her that video was filmed a long time ago and people are just reposting it, or something.”

“Okay, right,” you nod, trying to get a sense of his train of lies. “So, what, did she believe you?”

“I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know,” he mumbles, “I can’t tell. But I told her I would bring them to the party as a surprise and I couldn’t even come up with a name or anything.”

You groan, putting your head in your hands before taking another sip of your alcohol. “Derek, you are a total idiot. What are… So—so, who are you gonna pull up to the party with? A fuckin’ cardboard cutout of fuckin’… Margot Robbie and call it a night?”

“No, I’m not a dumbass, Y/n. I’ll just tell her that they couldn’t make it because they were sick or something. Better yet—they were doing some kind of modeling job in Europe,” he replies, wanting to give the impression that if he would have a romantic partner, they would be incredibly successful and beautiful. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“That’s rich,” you scoff, wiping an eye with your finger. You were absolutely done with him. “You really think she’s going to believe that? Seriously? She’s your mom, Derek, I’m sure she can tell when you’re lying. And—and at one point, she’s going to ask for proof of photos and to actually meet them in person, and I’m sure that when she gets the news that you lied to her, she’d want to cut you off even more! Derek, you’re just digging yourself in an even deeper hole than before. You’re practically digging your own grave,” you argue.

“Fine, fine, then if she asks again, I’ll just say that they broke up with me,” he shrugged dismissively, leaning back and drinking from his glass.

“I thought the whole point was to improve your reputation, make you seem like a goddamn saint?” You retort, wiping your hand over your face in exhaustion.

He frowns. “Okay, you do have a point. Fuck. Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Why’re you asking me?” You whine with a frown.

“Because you keep correcting me on shit, clearly you must have better ideas than me,” he shrugs, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, I don’t. If I were you, I’d just cut your losses and accept that your fucking consequences have actions!” You reason fairly. “Might as well just get kicked out to the streets, having to con people for their money—oh wait, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past few years! That’s all you do, man, I’m sorry, I can’t back you up! All you do is trick and deceive with all your lies, using people as pawns, it’s ridiculous!”

And after all that calling out, there was only one thing that the arrogant bastard got out from your outburst. His eyes lit up and you could tell that he had another stupid idea.

“Wait, Y/n, that’s it!” He exclaims brightly. “Using people!”

“Dude, I really fucking can’t with you—”

“I can get someone to pose as my fake partner for the night!” He grins.

“Yeah, I am really not liking the sound of this—”

“And get this,” he began eagerly. “You can do it.”

You feel your eyes widen as you hear Derek’s proposal. “Oh, no. No. Hell no. No, no, no, not in a million fucking years.”

“Y/n, come on,” he whines childishly. “It’ll only be for a day. You can pose as my partner at the party, impress my mom, deceive the press for a bit, and boom, I won’t even be considered getting cut off.”

You let out a prolonged groan, rolling your eyes and gulped much more of your drink than a regular sip. “Derek, she knows me. She knows I’m your best friend, she’s met me, there is no way—”

“That’s the point! I can pull some strings and shit, saying that we were friends until we, like, fell for each other or some other cheesy fuckass story. And if we want this entire charade to end after the party, a few days later I could just say that we broke up because we were more compatible as friends! No bitterness so that neither of us seem like the bad guy in the breakup. It’s the perfect fucking plan,” he explains, somehow more intricately than you would expect from him.

You pause, pondering deeply about his plan.

“Hell no.” You finally say, drinking more of your beer.

“Aw—come on, Y/n. Please. It’s only for a day. Look, my life is at fucking stake! I could lose all my fucking money, and—look—you won’t get to take advantage of my rich, privileged ass anymore. No more luxuries, no more rich parties. Come on, Y/n. Please.” His voice was pleading and you could tell he was heavily desperate. He wasn’t wrong. If the rumors were true and his mother was going to cut him off due to his recklessness and immaturity, he would lose so much money that you can’t leech off on. And of course you cared about him more than the money, he’s been your friend for years. But this whole thing seemed so complicated.

However, you were his right-hand man. His best friend since college. He relied on you. But hell, if you had to humiliate yourself for one night as Derek’s romantic partner, you should at least get something out of it.

“I wanna get paid,” you blurted.

He looked at you with an almost offended expression. “What?”

“Look, if I have to spend a night at a boring ass party, shaking the wrinkly, sweaty hands of old, ancient fucks, and having to pretend I’m your partner, I expect to be paid,” you reason, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” he scoffs distastefully, rolling his eyes. God, you wanted to stab a fork in them.

“No! This whole plan is so complicated and I hate you for involving me in it!” You growl, pointing at him accusingly. “What am I getting out of this? Nothing! So you might as well just pay me to do this stupid acting job.”

“You’re—You’re not serious—” he glances at your obstinate expression. “You’re fucking serious. Well, okay! Fuck, fine. How much are we talking?”

“How long is the event?” You ask, grabbing your glass up to your lips to indulge in another sip.

“Probably a few hours, I don’t know, it’s a whole fancy live charity auction event,” he shrugs carelessly, grabbing his vape from his pocket and taking a quick drag.

“Okay, then. I won’t burden you too much. Two hundred dollars,” you answer confidently.

“That’s it? Oka—”

“However,” you began with a small smirk. “If we have to be all couple-y and gross and romantic with each other, I may consider raising the price. Like, if we have to hold hands or I have to look into your eyes for more than five seconds.”

“Fine, that seems fair,” he sighs softly. “Do we have a deal?” Derek, like he always would when he’d negotiate, took out his hand in front of you.

You grimaced at it. “I really don’t wanna shake to that,” you whine, groaning to yourself. “Just one night, right?”

“One night,” he confirms.

“Staging a break up right after?”

“Yup.”

“Little to no PDA?”

“Hopefully.”

“And you’re gonna pay me five hundred bucks?”

“Yes. Wait, wh—”

Before he could protest, you shook his hand immediately, completely sealing the deal.

Having to pretend to be Derek Danforth’s romantic partner for a whole night?

Yeah, there was no way in hell that this was going to end well.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#384

“Fucking hell.  If it ain’t Wallace McGrew’s oldest boy!…  Ryan, you did good.  Fuck yeah you did.  I can’t think of anything else that I would enjoy more for my 65th birthday....

 “TJ, did you know about this?...  I’m surprised you two kept this secret so well.  So is he a true faggot or one that you made?...  Well I’ll be damned, Wallace raised himself a screaming sperm burper, and that knob gobbler is standing before us, bound spread eagled, collared, gagged,…  plugged too.  All for me.  Fucking hell Ryan, you couldn’t have done any better with this year’s birthday cunt….

“…So you are the son of Wally?...  Just nod….  Good.  Do you know who I am?...  I would have been surprised that you hadn’t.  What about my ranch manager TJ?...  No.  Did you know Ryan was my boy?...  No.  Good.

“Ryan, why isn’t his pecker caged?  That’s one hell of a raging hard-on….  This faggot’s pecker is like steel….  It’s a good five- or six-incher.  It doesn’t look like he’s on any hard-on medication.  That’s all natural.  Goddamn!  This boy is leaking up a storm.  Now I understand why you didn’t put a cage on him.

“Why don’t you two bring the fuck table over and secure him bent over.  Nice body.  Ryan, you did a good job shaving him….  What?  You didn’t shave him?...  Well that’s interesting. 

“Look at that ass.  See those purple marks on his left cheek.  Those are scars from a savage whipping.  His back has healed up, but I can still see some marks.

“Faggot, you have played before, haven’t you?  It’s obvious you are a faggot.  But you have been beat before, right?  I mean a man has inflicted pain on you for his own enjoyment?...  Did your daddy do this to you?...  No?  Too bad.  You would have been a lot more interesting if he did.

“Fucking hell.  This changes things.

“Ryan, TJ, fuck him.  TJ you go first.  Be quick about it.  Ryan, yank out the plug and let me see it….  It’s spotless.  Did you clean him out?...  So the faggot was prepared….  Actually that doesn’t surprise me.  TJ, just shove it in and go to town.  Be rough on the fag’s cunt.  I want you to cum quick.

“Ryan, show me the video of him….  Wow, the faggot knows how to service your fat pud.  Look at him go.  That’s one hungry fag boy.

“Hey faggot, have you seen this?...  Look at how you throat Ryan’s sausage with ease.  I’m actually impressed here.  I know it’s hard to focus on the video with TJ plowing your twat.  He’ll be done soon.  He’s already started picking up the pace. 

“Look at your face here.  That is the face of a true faggot.  You are in ecstasy slobbering on Ryan’s cock….  You seem to have no trouble with his fat pud.  Most faggots struggle with throating him.

“Oh fuck here goes TJ!...  Damn!  He really came hard.

“TJ!  Pull out so Ryan can take over. 

“Ryan, go in hard and don’t let up.  Get your nut quick then you and TJ can get out of here.  I want to spend some alone time with my birthday present. 

“Hey faggot, the cock filling your mouth in the video is plowing your cunt.  You are kinda getting it from both ends from the same dick….

“Ryan, you should see his face right now.  He’s not struggling like the others.  It appears that Wally McGrew’s son is a seasoned cum dump whore.  I take it that he’s loose?...  Typical.

“Faggot.  When a man, a real man, is going to fuck you, you need to provide a hole that will provide him pleasure.  So tighten up that cunt….  Well, that got a smile out of Ryan….  He’s picking up his pile driving.  Hear that?  That’s the sound of a two hundred fifty-pound man grunting as he’s slamming into your loose cunt.  No better sound in the world.

“Shoot!  Shoot!  Flood this faggot’s guts….  Atta boy!  Fuck yeah.

“Faggot, clamp down as Ryan pulls out.  I want your cunt full of spunk.  Ryan is known for two things, his big dick and his huge loads….

“What’s that Ryan?...  Finish watching the video?  OK.  And I want to be alone with the faggot.  Plug up the faggot’s cunt, then go wait for me in TJ’s house.  Don’t get dressed, and don’t wipe your cock.  The fag will suck clean whatever dried slime flakes remain on it in a bit.  Now go. 

“…So here we are faggot, just you and me.  I have to admit, I was truly surprised.  Not that Ryan snagged Wallace McGrew’s son as my birthday present, although that did surprise me a little.  No, what shocked me is that Wally’s son has experience, lots of it, as a slave. 

“From the scars on your ass and back to your worked over nips, to the fact that you didn’t even flinch when Ryan shoved his beer can cock into your cunt, and to the compliance I saw as they were resecuring your bonds, I can tell you have done this before.  It’s more than that.  The look of ecstasy on your face as this was going on, wasn’t a look of ‘this-feels-so-good,’ but rather one of being in a submissive headspace.  I can tell that no matter what I do to you, what pain I will cause, you are suffering for my desires, and it naturally centers your mind.

“Am I right?  Nod yes or no….  Yeah, I see you.  You are clear to me.  I knew you weren’t a pain pig—a fag that is into receiving pain for pain sake.  Pain pigs bore me beyond the first few minutes I’m with them.  Yeah, if I need to get off, they serve their function.  But you need to connect on a much deeper level, craving to offer your pain and suffering for a higher purpose.

“You understand what I am saying.  Knowing that I—a naturally superior man—am getting my primal needs met by your service,… your submission,… your sacrifice,… and your suffering is all the motivation you need to continue.  You don’t want the pain, but knowing it’s getting me to leak, makes you want it more.  It may be confusing to many, but to you it makes all the sense in the world. 

“I’m always looking for a faggot with this mindset.  I have found a few in my time, never would have guessed that Wally’s boy would be one of them.

“Let me take my cock out….  Look down.  I am rock hard and leaking.  And I see you are too.  So it is safe to say that even though we never really met before, I know you.  I really know you.

“Let me ask you faggot, you want to serve me?...

“Submit to me?...

“Sacrifice for me?...

“Suffer for me?...

“Good.  Faggots like you are hard to find.  I thought Ryan was one when I met him eleven years ago.  It was clear that he did not have that mindset.  But he connected with me so well on so many other things, that we developed into something else. 

“He still serves me and helps me satisfy my cruel sadistic side.  He’s definitely my beta boy.  That’s what’s his groove is.  He likes to bring me objects like yourself so that I can enjoy the way I want to, that I need to.

“Hell, he’s the one who set up this birthday tradition of offering faggots like you.  He goes to Denver, and he takes his time to find the victim.  When my day arrives, I make the trek here to PJ’s ranch outside the city for the reveal.

“He doesn’t go into much detail with me because it’s my birthday present after all.  But I do know that this is a long process for him.  And I have to say the slave cunts he offers me has been perfect, yourself included.

“The one thing that he does with each faggot he offers is to make a video of the fag willingly sucking him off to completion.  He told me that he uses the fag’s phone to record it leading the fag to agree to the filming.  And he always manages to send himself a copy for me to view later.

“Like this video of you expertly throating Ryan’s mammoth cock.  You are a true world class cocksucker. 

“These videos are great.  They provide the motivation for the faggot’s entire time here.  Oh, I forgot to mention, every birthday present is closeted, just like yourself.  If the faggot does not perform to my satisfaction at any time, that video is sent off to where it will have the biggest impact: boss, wife, girlfriend, or—in your case—dad.

“Yes, the intention was to coerce you into submitting to me.  But that all changed in the few minutes when I recognized your true nature.  I don’t feel like coercion is possible; your hunger has been visible all this time.

“But don’t worry.  I will be outing you to your dad.  There is no way in hell that I am not going to pass up that opportunity.  Regardless of whether you make my cut, he’s going to receive a video.

“A word of caution: don’t even think of begging me not to.  Begging is a form of selfishness, and I do not deal with selfish slaves, faggots, or cunts.  You understand?

“No don’t try to say ‘Yes Sir’ around a gag.  The primary reason why I gag faggots like you is that I don’t want to hear the shit that comes out of your mouth. 

“A sharp nod ‘Yes’ is all that’s needed.  It needs to be a quick down then up, and it’s in that order.  Show me….  Good.  Remember that.  A sharp ‘No’ shake would be used in the rare occasion I allow a ‘No’ from you.  If your head is secured, then nod with your eyes.  If you are blindfolded, fuck it, I don’t need to hear from you.

“You will be staying with me for the weekend.  I can see your mind is where it needs to be.  I will be testing out your body’s response.  You will be filmed doing some extreme kink.  I’ll figure what I will use to show your dad.  The ability to fuck over Wally McGrew is the best birthday present I could get.

“Did you know he outed me to the whole town once he caught me plowing one of his farm hands?  That cost me a lot of business.  The worst part was his smug demeanor he had about town; being all righteous looking down at me.  Now I get to tell him his son is a piss drinking, sperm farting, ass eating, cum dump faggot.  It won’t be just him, our little town will know. 

“Oh I got it.  I will show your video to Dwight Smith the barber.  You dad goes in once a week on Thursday for a beard trim like clockwork.  I’ll make sure to be showing Dwight as your dad comes in.  Fuck yeah. 

“This will happen.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, will prevent me from outing you.

“I’m so fucking horny now.  First things first, let me unsecure you.  I want you to stand in the center.  Don’t try to run.  I don’t believe for one bit you are going to try to bail, but one thing I have learned over the years is never—and I mean never—trust a faggot slave.  And I don’t you.  Trust is something earned over a long time serving. 

“You have no shoes, and there’s lots of rocks on the ground; you won’t get very far.  Besides, these ankle and wrist cuffs that are padlocked on you have a tracking device.  So does that shock collar locked around your neck.

“Get over here and help me take my boots off….  That brought a smile to your face.  Just set them aside.  I’m going back in them once I take off my jeans and boxers.  Here, smell my foot.  Inhale deeply.  Better than any poppers out there.  Now my pants. 

“I see you eyeing my bulge.  Faggot, that is the center of your world from now on.  Go on and touch it; I know you want to.  But only briefly.  Now pull down my boxers.  Look at my cock.  It’s not as thick as Ryan’s, but mine is a bit longer.  It stays hard longer, and I can cum multiple times.

“Sniff my shorts, especially the tiny skid mark.  You are going to intimately know my shithole going forward.  Now help me put my boots back on….

“…Don’t worry, your tongue will be exploring my boots later.  But now, hand me my belt from my jeans.  Good.  Now go stand in the middle over there.

“Raise both arms above your head.  Keep them up there.  Today is my 65th birthday.  It is a birthday tradition that there needs to be birthday beatings.  Spankings are so pointless.  A good ol’ fashioned ass lickin’ is more in line with what is needed.  And there is no way that my ass is going to receive an ass lickin’ of any type other than with your tongue.  So that means you are the one who will be on the receiving end of said beatings.  65 of them.  I want you to count.  Make sure those numbers are clearly announced around that gag.

“I would ask if you were ready, but your dick is leaking harder than I have seen it before.  Look at my cock.  It too is leaking.  We are both ready to do this.  Let’s get some active welts going. 

“Now don’t fucking move from that spot.  No matter what I do to you, remain there. 

“One!  Holy shit!  That one was perfect across your ass.  You will learn, I don’t ramp up my intensity.  The first is as cruel as the last.  But this one landed perfectly across both cheeks.  Oh fuck, I already broke skin. 

“Cry all you need to boy.  I’ve only just begun.  Oh look!  There’s some blood.  Fuck yeah.  “And know this faggot, you are making me one happy man.”

[callie-the-creator]

and they were roommates

sfw. warnings: reader is gender-neutral, mild scott pilgrim vs. the world spoilers, mentions of alcohol/alcoholism, migraines, hangovers, angst, a sad wallace, etc.

author’s note: scott is my least favorite character, so expect some jabs to be thrown at him in here. anyway, sorry if this is trash or too cringeworthy. i tried my best, y’all ✌🏻

• you’ve known of wallace through a few stories your closest friend, stacey pilgrim. you mainly just listened to her rant about him stealing a few of her boyfriends.

— sadly though, wallace ended up breaking things off with other scott…and jimmy…and that other guy that he can’t remember the name of. the good thing is that scott finally moved out since he is planning on living with ramona. still…it did get a little lonely at times.

• because of how sad and isolated he felt, wallace began to drink. well, more than usual anyway. every night he could be seen lounging at his favorite bar with a generous of empty beer bottles/cans in front of him.

• it wasn’t until the fourth night of this repetitive cycle is when wallace met you: [name: y/n l/n. occupation: bartender. 24 years old and he’s never seen you until tonight which is surprising since wallace practically knows everybody.]

— right off the bat, you two hit it off right away. there was an underlying tension there but for the first few occurrences when you either bumped into wallace in the street or found him at the bar, it goes untouched & unmentioned.

• that was until wallace asked for you phone number when he is drunk. it was really sappy, but he was still nice about it. it makes you happy that wallace isn’t an angry drunk, like whatsoever. he’s just happy to be there and very sleepy. there were a few times where you had to give him over to his place because you didn’t trust him to get there on his own.

• you were always so kind to him, always treating him better than he probably deserved.

• needless to say, it didn’t take long for wallace to think of you in the highest regards. you two even started hanging out outside of the bar where you work at. if he needed something to be picked up, you’ll do it with no questions asked or you would sometimes pay for his coffee if you were out to get yourself a drink too.

— just after a few weeks of knowing you, wallace fell head over heels. and he had it bad.

• of course, he tried to suppress his feelings and tried his damn best to not make it obvious. so, what did our dear wallace do to ensure that? he started to ignore you, partially at least, and became awkward. like…scott pilgrim-level awkward. it’s weird since wallace has always been known to be the complete opposite of his ex-roommate. he’s very easy going, calm, and the voice of reason to many.

• he’s a flirt too. so, why are you having this effect on him? he just couldn’t understand why he suddenly became a bumbling idiot.

• you were worried that you did something to push wallace away, but all your questions were answered when you returned one night to find that he left a drunken message in your answering machine.

— “hey, you know, hic, i've been thinkin', like, a lot. (long pause) and, um, i just wanna say, you're, like, really somethin' special, ya know? (slight slur) i feel all mushy and stuff, but yeah, i kinda, sorta...love you, maybe? (awkward pause) yeah, that's it. hic”

[celestialholz]

Today in Gay People: Hassel.

There's something I've noticed about our resident art teacher, and that's... well, Flapple. I mean, we all know how gay the whole Applin deal is, but... well, it's where it is that's particularly interesting.

This is Steven Stone's team.

This is Cynthia's team...

This is Wallace's team...

I could go on. (And yes, I'm using champions because, like Hassel, they're important, powerful NPCs with a proper team, and let's be real here, Hassel is five minutes, that Tournament Dragonite and a fuck to give away from kicking Geeta out of his office.)

But the point here is... well, that penultimate slot. The fifth slot in a champion's team - or fourth, in Hassel's case - is reserved for the vice-captain role. It's the Pokemon hardest to take down before the ace, meant to weaken you up - the secondary signature mon. We see here with Milotic - defence for days, Marvel Scale, offensive too. And we see it with Armaldo - excellent attack, difficult type. And then we see it with Gyrados - Dragon Dance, Earthquake, power. Utility. That second-to-last slot is designed to weaken you up for the finale, the real powerhouse of the squad. Leon does it too - his fifth slot is the starter strong against yours, the one you may not have a counter to if your team-building isn't on point.

... And then we have Hassel.

... Now, there's a few things to note here.

Flapple shares the same quad weakness as Noivern, which leads. That's, er... different.

Flapple, statistically, is the weakest Pokemon here. Not by a lot - Dragalge is only ten points or so better, but it's a defensive Pokemon. It's meant to fill that role, as well as being a counter to Fairies.

Flapple isn't the utility mon most penultimate-slot mons are.

... And yet, here it is. Now, I could draw upon Hassel's six-mon Tournament team here, which adds Dragonite into this slot instead, but the Tournament is Hassel fucking about. He's been chilling in the staffroom and someone's gone "oh, that champion-rank kid's up, get out here." The Elite Test line-up is him at work. He's specifically chosen to leave a pseudo-legendary at home... for Flapple.

And why would he do that? @edgeanescence pointed out on the EphemeralArt Discord that the penultimate slot is meant to represent the trainer; the personality and the heart of them, as well as acting as vice-captain. And, well...

Cynthia's is a Milotic. Grace, beauty, the defence of Sinnoh against Cyrus.

Steven's is an Armaldo. A fossil, a Rock-type, the strongest of all fossils at the time - perfect sentiments for him.

Wallace's is a Gyrados. Power, controlled by a former eighth gym slot; ferocity in water.

... And Hassel's is a Flapple. Like him, she has power, but what she represents as a Grass/Dragon is much more important to him than raw offence or defence. She is his softness; she is his tears, and pride in his students; she is part-Brassius. Whether Brassius gave him the Flapple or not is irrelevant, though it's pretty compelling that he did - this man takes a representation of his heart and of his love into battle over the Dragonite, who has 120 more points of stats. By rights, even if he's leaving the Dragonite at home, Haxorus should be here if this is about power, not Flapple.

And you can tell me that it's about game balance as much as you like, but oh look:

Brassius's rematch team, everyone, and look at that penultimate slot.

Look at that Arboliva sculpture, with Brass's own spikiness and Dragon-type purple-tinged blue.

Brassius is not like Appletun, the obvious counterpoint here. Brassius is drama; Brassius is a man formerly weak, much like Smoliv; Brassius is not home comforts, apple pies, yet he's surprisingly kind and encouraging. Reminding you of anything?

... Ah, yes. Arboliva, depending on mood. And, if you're not already convinced...

That's Flapple, in the Violet dex. Strong, and covered in clay. Like a fucking artist, or a man who loves a sculptor.

When the chips are down, when they show up to work, when they have important, key battles, Hassel and Brassius don't just take their Pokemon to the arena.

They take themselves, and they take each other.