#YEAH NO WE THREW THAT AWAY ACTUALLY. HES EVIL AGAIN

[hajihiko]

you read homestuck?? u seem like the type to have Opinions on dirk and/or dave /lh

Dirk was done fucking dirty by the narrative post-epilogue and I'm never gonna stop being angry about it

[jamminvroomvroom]

helping hand.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re getting ready for a date and lando knows it’s a waste of time

back with more lando brainrot :D obsessed with best friend!lando atm, on a bit of a roll with the writing so send me your ideas! lemme know what you think! 🫶

songs to set the mood: kiss me more by doja cat, moth to a flame by the weeknd, i think by tyler, the creator, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! porn with plot, smut, fluff, angst if you squint? choking, biting like once, best friend!lando

2.9k words

a key turning in the lock made you jump, groaning when you realised who it was. lando had been home for a few days now, it was about time he showed up. he’d had a key since you moved in.

you know, for emergencies.

he’d already called you a few times that day, and you’d let it ring out each time. talking to lando while you were supposed to be getting ready for a date was never a good idea. it would be end up being his face you’d imagine sipping wine on the other side of the table, his face you’d picture when you fell messily into bed while someone else’s hands roamed your body, his face you would hope to see when your eyes fluttered open the next morning.

so, yeah. answering the phone was a recipe for disaster.

you scurried across the floor in the heels you were trying to break in, scavenging for your robe to cover your bare skin. by the time the door swung open, you’d managed to disappear into your bedroom, bare skin somewhat covered.

“why don’t you answer your phone?” you heard lando whinging down the hallway.

“i’m getting ready to go out, didn’t see your call.” you called back. it was a blatant lie but he didn’t need to know that.

“oooh, girls night out?” you could hear his footsteps getting closer and then he appeared in the doorway.

he looked cosy, bundled up in a thick jacket layered over a hoodie. a beanie covered most of his curls, a few hanging loose over his eyes. the cold weather had left him flushed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. you, on the other hand, were wearing much less, a silky robe covering soft pink lingerie. your makeup was half done, an outfit strewn together on your bed.

“nope. got a date.” you replied, grabbing your eyeshadow brush. you tried not to look at him too much, otherwise you’d never get out the door.

you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you, eyes half bulging out of his head. this was too much skin, too much much everything, the lingerie that was covering not a lot telling him information that made his stomach twist. he pulled it together, clearing his throat.

“not that finance guy again, surely.” lando teased, shedding his coat and hat at the end of your bed. your sigh confirmed that, yes, it was that finance guy again.

“i’m just trying to see where it goes. he’s not that bad.” you reasoned, dropping the brush back onto your vanity. your eyelids were shimmering under the light, but all you could focus on was the image of your best friend sprawled out on your bed, watching you watch him.

“trust me, sweetie, he seems it.” lando quipped, sarcastic sympathy spilling from his quirked up lips. “so are you going out like that?” he laughed, eyeing your half dressed body. in all your years of friendship, he’d seen a lot more of you, and that’s why you hadn’t kicked him out screaming, or shied away. you ignored the sick and twisted feeling that you wanted* him to see you like this

“no,” you drew the word out, slow, as if you were making fun of him. “actually, you’re laying all over my outfit.” you raised an eyebrow, still holding eye contact with him through the mirror.

“damn,” he breathed through his teeth. “someones tryna get laid.” lando picked up the sheer top in one hand, the mini skirt in the other, a knowing look on his smug, beautiful, evil face.

“shut up!” you threw an eye pencil at him, but he ducked successfully. “listen, some of us have needs, okay? we can’t all be super famous formula 1 drivers.”

“well, i’m just saying. you don’t need to waste your time on stock bro steve if all you need is a shag.” lando was smirking now, and you were blushing redder than a ferrari.

“be quiet, you.” you scoffed.

you tried to shake off his words, but you couldn’t quite help the way your thighs clenched at what he was implying.

“i mean it. you have other options.” lando was sat up now, resting against your headboard, intently watching the way you were fumbling through your makeup bag.

“if i had other options, lando, i would have explored them by now. trust me.” you sounded frustrated, and lando was beyond intrigued.

“that bad, huh? how longs it been?” he was looking at you intently, craving an answer. the dim lighting couldn’t disguise the blush on your face and he was loving it.

“piss off.” you mumbled.

“you can tell me, sweetie. i don’t bite. unless you’re into that.”

another eyebrow pencil went flying in his direction.

“fuck you.”

“is that what you wanna do? i don’t have anywhere to be.” he was killing himself laughing at you, watching you squirm.

“a couple months.” you muttered.

“oh, honey.” lando cooed.

“why do you even care about this?” you whined, shaky hands fighting to unscrew your mascara.

“because i don’t like the idea of that dickhead touching you.” he said it so nonchalantly, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“lando-“

“am i reading this wrong? because something tells me that he’s not the one you want touching you.”

you watched, bewildered, as he pushed himself off your mattress, stalking towards you. he shrugged his hoodie off, adding it to his pile of garments at the end of the bed.

“what are you doing?” you questioned, dropping the mascara onto the table, sitting up straighter in anticipation.

“tell me now that it’s him you want.” he was getting closer and closer.

“i- i dont-“

“c’mon, sweetheart, tell me, and i’ll let you get ready in peace.”

he was right behind you now, body heat radiating against your back, goose bumps littering your bare shoulder where your robe had slipped.

“i don’t want him.” you whispered.

“who do you want? did you miss me as much as i missed you?”

“i always miss you.” you whispered.

“and yet, you’re getting ready for another man to fuck you, honey, when i’m right here.”

“what do you- lando, what are you doing?” you rambled, hands flat on your vanity, as if you were trying to ground yourself. you were shaking.

“helping you. is that okay, honey? do you want me to help you?” he spoke so softly, you could feel your legs quivering.

“yes.” you breathed and the way his eyes darkened made your thighs clench even harder.

lando leaned over you, until his head rested in the crook of your neck, hands finding your waist. he pulled you up from your stool, kicking it along the floor so that nothing separated you. you were flush against him, his nose nuzzling against your cheek. and then he was kissing your skin, your neck exposed to his assault. he trailed his lips over the taut flesh, teeth scraping that spot just below your ear.

all you could do was stare, disbelief in your eyes as you watched him touch you, hands pulling your hips into his. you’d wondered, now and then, if this would ever happen, and now here you were, falling into his touch like it was made to be all over your body.

lando turned you around, dropping you on the vanity. he crouched down in front you, pulling your ankle into his hands. nimble fingers worked over the clasp, fiddling with the buckle while he kissed over the sensitive skin of your thighs. one shoe dropped to the floor, and he made quick work of the other, lips trailing further and further up your legs. the bastard had the nerve to keep eye contact the entire time, and you keened at his touch, jolting when he moved under the hem of your robe.

lando pulled away, despite your groan of protest. he tugged you off the dresser, spinning you back to face the mirror, one of his hands slipping down your legs and finding your knee, picking you up and planting it on the dresser. you were spread out for him, now, sprawled out in front of the mirror.

“let’s get this off, yeah?” he whispered, hands smoothing over the silky material of your robe. it slipped off easily, one tug at the tie and it was on the floor, leaving you clad in your set. “all for me, right?”

“do something.” you gasped out, one of your hands thrown back to thread through his curls.

“all for me, right?” he repeated, biting down on your neck.

“yes, god, please.” you whimpered, needier for him than the guy you’d spent all afternoon getting ready for, yet you couldn’t spare him a thought when lando was toying with you like this.

“‘m gonna fuck you like this, make you watch so that you learn your lesson.”

“what lesson?” you choked out.

“that i’m the only one that can satisfy you like this.” he mumbled, so matter of fact.

“prove it.”

he liked the challenge, it seemed, because his hand was inside your panties before you could breathe. you could see his fingers working over you, the skimpy lace doing nothing to hide his movements. you arched into him the second he found your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure eating away at you and your ability to control yourself.

“eyes open.”

you tried your hardest, but it was near impossible when he was working over your pussy like he’d done it a million times, like he already knew the ins and outs of your body, what made you tick. you cried out when he slipped a finger in you, the action simultaneous with his free hand finding a home at the base of your throat.

“no wonder you can’t find someone to get you off, no one’s ever fucked some manners into you.” he growled into your ear, and your eyes shot open. his grip tightened, a second finger sliding through your wetness. “you’re gonna listen to me from now on, baby, or you get nothing.”

“‘m trying.” you breathed, slurring your words already. if only you’d done this sooner.

“not hard enough, clearly.” he was grinding his fingers in harder, deeper, palm flat against your clit. you were panting out moans, heart beating so hard you could hear it in your ears, and now that you’d obeyed, eyes as wide as they could be, you couldn’t take them off his. he looked so smug, so pretty as he had his way with you, and you loved it, the way he was watching you sending an extra shot of heat to the pleasure pooling in your belly.

“is this what you needed, honey? do you think he could have done better? bet he couldn’t even make you come.” lando spat, fucking you even faster somehow. you felt drunk.

“no, lando. you’re so good.” you whined, pushing your ass back into him again.

you could feel how hard he was, taken aback at how filthy he was being, how dominant he was. you never could have imagined this, and honestly, you’d tried.

“you gonna come for me, sweetie? i can feel how bad you want it.” lando coaxed your orgasm out of you, your soft tummy tightening as you clamped down on his fingers. his thumb found your clit, circles left on the glistening flesh and all you could do was pray the hand wrapped around your neck would keep you upright.

one last flick of the wrist had you screaming, gushing all over his fingers. you could feel yourself dripping, your slick painting your inner thighs as you came, and he helped your through it. slow strokes brought you down from your high, and you slumped backwards into his arms.

“i’m not done yet.” he groaned, fingers dragged out of your panties and into his mouth. you watched the way his tongue licked over the digits, stomach fluttering at the sinful sight.

“good.” you replied, reaching behind you to search for the button of his jeans. he laughed lowly, batting your hands away.

“i’ll do the work, you deserve it.” his hand cupped your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing him, your body still facing the mirror.

you looked between his eyes and his lips, and he did the same, taking in your tired features, the lazy smile on your lips. you wanted him to kiss you, wanted to see if that drove you as crazy as everything else he’d done. you were quickly proved right. he slotted his lips over yours, your nose bumping his. a quiet moan sounded from the back of his throat and you shivered, deepening the kiss. his tongue moved with yours deliciously, sweet mint lingering in his mouth.

“need you.” you muttered against his lips, your words swallowed by the lingering kiss. he hummed in agreement, prying himself away from your swollen lips, his lack of self control making it harder than necessary. the faint trace of his lips made you delirious, and you feared you’d always crave more now that you’d had a taste.

“i’ve got you, honey. hands flat for me.”

you positioned yourself how he wanted, your palms flat against the vanity. he pushed your knee across the surface, makeup that you couldn’t care less about clattering to the ground. one of his hands snaked around your body, toying with the lace of your bra as he grabbed a handful of your breast. you watched the way his strong grip held you in place, breathing shakily when his free hand dipped between your thighs. you could see how wet you were when he tugged the flimsy lace aside, cupping your cunt one last time to spread your wetness around.

you heard the zip of his jeans, the rustle of clothing, your eyes rolling back as he kissed behind your ear. he slid into your slowly, feeling every part of him as he went deeper and deeper. the stretch made your tear up, the way he was filling you up scratching a itch that you hadn’t been able to satisfy in far too long.

“oh.” you gasped, clenching around him. he hissed at the sensation, grip tightening on your chest.

“that is the tightest fucking thing.” he moaned, thick neck on display as he bottomed out. “no one’s fucked you properly, have they, baby?”

“need it, lando.” you tried to push your hips back, tried to feel him even deeper somehow, but he held you down.

he moved slow, feeling you out, looking for a rhythm. you couldn’t breathe, watching the way he could barely keep his eyes open. you were obsessed, never so thankful for him barging into your apartment uninvited.

as fucking good as it felt, you needed more, just a bit more, desperate to not be able to walk after. you grabbed his hand, guiding it up your body, meeting his eyes in the mirror as you placed it at the base of your throat. a look was exchanged, one of pleading, and trust, and maybe even a little bit of something else, and everything in him changed.

your back collided with his front, the pressure on your neck and the power of his thrust making you dizzy. the pace was rapid, hips hitting yours with a point to prove. you mouth hung open, unable to take your eyes off the way his body rolled against yours. this was addictive, so far clear of any sex you’d ever had, maybe even of any you’d have again.

“so good for me. not gonna be able to forget those pretty eyes watching me.” he slurred, breathing heavily into your ear.

you nodded frantically, begs for more, please, more tumbling from your lips.

“no more dates. no more of these little boys trying to get you off. it’s gonna be me from now on.”

“better be.” you choked out, your head falling into the crook of his neck.

“that’s right, baby. gonna watch me make you come?” he crooned into your ear.

and you did, eyes locked with his once again as he finished you off. you were slick with sweat, trying to catch your breath.

“good?” he pressed a kiss to your hairline, slowly untangling himself from you.

“very.”

“let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

lando helped you off the vanity, carrying you back over to your bed and placing you on the end. you watched him look around for some clothes, but you stole his hoodie, the one he’d left on the end of the bed. his scent surrounded you as you slipped it over your head, spicy and sweet.

you heard your phone buzzing, reaching around for it blindly but lando got to it first. the shit eating grin he wore made you sweat, eyes widening in horror when it dawned on you.

“stock market steve’s wondering where you are. think i should set him straight.” he teased.

“lando, don’t-“ you couldn’t even stop him, your body aching too much.

“hello?” lando sing songed down the line and you hid your face in your hands. “as much as i just know she’d love to hear you talk about how many watches you have and then finish in six seconds, she’s occupied.” and with that, he put the phone down.

“you are so lucky i can’t walk right now.” you threatened, flopping back onto your bed. he was quickly hovering over you, resting above you on his forearms.

“care to make it worse?” he grinned mischievously, and you knew that you were well and truly done for, ruined for anybody else.

“do your best.”

lord knows, he did.

-

hehe

-

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[roosterforme]

Midnight Confessions | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's getting harder and harder for Bradley to hide his feelings for you, especially when you offer to drive him home on his birthday. Before he knows it, he's drunk in your passenger seat, confessing everything he's kept to himself. He may not remember all of it in the morning, but you certainly do. 

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Hey, Midnight!" Phoenix called across the bar as she grinned up at Bradley. "Can you come here?" Bradley watched you turn away from Omaha and head in his direction with a smile on your face and a beer in your hand.

"What are you doing, Nat?" Bradley muttered to his friend, trying not to stare at you as you walked over to him. The last thing Bradley wanted was to get a little bit of attention from you now just to have to watch you and Omaha laughing together all night. 

"I'm giving you exactly what you want for your birthday," Nat replied with a devilish smirk. 

"Please don't," Bradley groaned, but you were already there, in his personal space. "Midnight," he said with a nod in your direction.

"Happy Birthday, Rooster," you whispered with a laugh, kissing his cheek so quickly he thought he had imagined it. "Next drink is on me." He swallowed hard, swirling the ice from his whiskey and Coke around in his glass. "Looks like I was just in time," you said, plucking the glass from his hand and heading for the bar.

"You're cruel," Bradley told Phoenix as soon as you were going. "You're evil, and I wish I never told you I have a thing for Midnight."

Nat rolled her eyes so hard Bradley was honestly afraid she wouldn't be able to see as well to fly ever again. "You think you're a locked box or something? You're transparent to me, Bradshaw. Literally an open book. As soon as Midnight showed up at Top Gun, I had your number. She's cute, she's smart, and she flies exactly like you do."

He watched you at the bar, and of course fucking Omaha was right there with you once again, his hand resting on your lower back. "I fucking hate him."

Nat snorted. "Omaha? You never used to have an issue with him before," she said, eyeing Bradley with an amused look. 

"He's annoying," Bradley said lamely. "And he's got nothing going for him except for that jawline." 

"Hmm," Nat hummed, shaking her head and scrutinizing him. "He's got pretty eyes too. And nice teeth. And his hair is actually similar to yours."

Bradley grunted and tried to ignore the scene at the bar while he picked up some darts. It was his birthday. He should be having a good time. He sighed and threw three darts in a row before Hangman joined him. And then he remembered why he never played darts when Jake hit three bullseyes in a row.

"Happy birthday," Hangman drawled with a lazy grin.

Bradley was saved from having to respond when you placed your hand on his forearm and handed him a fresh drink.

"Thanks," he told you, taking the opportunity to look at your face for a few seconds longer than he normally would. Big mistake. You got his heart rate going and made him feel speechless, and you weren't even doing anything. 

"So, what does the birthday boy have planned for the rest of the night?" you asked, staying with him even though Omaha was hanging around. 

"Oh, probably just getting blackout drunk and trying to forget that I have feelings," he replied casually, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah, I've tried that," you responded just as casually. "It doesn't work."

"Shit," he replied with a laugh.

"Yeah," you said, leaning in a little closer. "But I have a better idea."

Bradley shook his head and grinned. "No. Don't you remember? Penny said she'd kick us out if we played strip pool again."

You started laughing, and the sound of it this close up made him feel a little smug. Take that, Omaha.

"I swear, all it took was getting Bob to take his shirt off, and Penny looked like she was going to murder us," you said, still laughing brightly as you took him by the hand. "But we can play regular pool, if you want."

Bradley would have followed you anywhere. And then you were lacing your fingers with his, just so briefly, before letting go of him to grab two pool cues. And Bradley ended up playing with you as his partner while his friends handed him drink after drink. You were pretty good at pool, but he was better, and the two of you were unbeatable. Plus, this gave Bradley an excellent opportunity to stand very close to you and whisper in your ear. 

"Nah," he whispered as you bent down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear before he pulled back a little. He thought he heard you sigh as he said, "Go for the corner pocket with the nine ball."

"Okay," you agreed, and Bradley got to watch you beat Omaha and Hangman. And that was really all the birthday present he needed tonight. But then you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Smoked those losers!" you said loudly, and this time you had Bradley laughing. Then his hand settled around your waist, and as soon as he felt your denim jeans against his fingers, he had to back up a step. You just smiled and turned to re rack the balls.

Bradley didn't notice it at first, but after another two hours, he was definitely drunk. 

"Give me your keys," Nat told him around eleven o'clock as she held out her hand. 

Bradley had to lean against the pool table while he dug around in his pocket to get his keyring out. He watched with unfocused eyes as she removed his Bronco key and handed him the remaining house key on the keychain that said I'M SO FLY.

"How am I gonna get home?" he asked Nat, leaning in a little closer to try to focus. "Nat, I'm too fucked up to even use a ride app."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Midnight offered to drive you."

"No!" he groaned. "Nat. You can't do this to me."

"Happy birthday," she crooned, disappearing off into the crowd with his key, leaving him holding a pool cue as you approached him again.

"Why don't you finish your drink, and I'll drive you home?" you asked with a smile so pretty on your lips, he was just dying to kiss you.

He realized he was staring at you now, but he couldn't figure out how to control his body and turn away. Riding in your car with you right now was going to be a disaster. He just fucking knew it. And now he was still staring at you as your smile grew. He would do anything to be able to look away, but now you were giggling, and my god, Bradley just loved that sound. But he tried so hard to look away until you bit your lip and reached out to touch his forearm again, and then he knew he wasn't going to be able to look away from your face ever again no matter what.

"Fuck," he grunted, wondering who had let him drink this much.

You were rubbing your fingers along his arm, and Bradley's brain helpfully informed him that he could have a boner right now, no problem.

"Fuck," he repeated. But you were still smiling. 

"You are so drunk right now," you said softly, shaking your head. "Your cheeks are beat red. You look adorable."

"You're adorable," he whispered, and your laugh was loud and bright. 

"Okay, you just finish this, and I'll take you home whenever you want, birthday boy." You picked his drink up off the table and he took it from you before you turned away.

Oh. You had thought he was joking when he called you adorable. That was good, because he hadn't meant to say anything like that at all. Not out loud. He was going to have to hold his own damn mouth shut in your car. 

He had no idea how long he had been standing there with his glass in his hand, but he was watching you talking to Omaha. Fuck that guy, for real. But he looked annoyed right now. Bradley liked that expression on Omaha's face. He also vaguely thought nobody should ever be looking at you with annoyance, because you were perfect. 

Bradley took a few steps so he was closer to you, because he was drunk, and going home sounded like a good idea. Then he heard Omaha.

"What do you mean you're taking Rooster home? Like you're taking him to your house?"

You replied right away, and your voice sounded crisp. "He's drunk. It's his birthday. I offered to drive him home. To his house. You need to relax."

Bradley liked that tone of your voice when you were talking to Omaha. Especially when your eyes and voice softened as Bradley made his way over to you. "I'm ready to go, Midnight," he said, and you took his hand right away. Bradley shot Omaha a smug smile and saluted him like a real asshole, even though he knew nothing would ever happen with you. But the look he received from Omaha combined with his middle finger in the air had Bradley laughing. 

"Did you have a fun night?" you asked, slipping your arm around Bradley's waist to help him walk. He probably looked like an idiot right now, but he didn't care. 

"Yep," he replied. "Thanks for playing pool with me. And thanks for the drinks."

"Oh, it's no problem," you said. "I know you'll pay me back on my birthday."

Bradley draped his arm around your shoulders even though he firmly told himself not to. "I'll buy all your drinks on your birthday. All that microbrewed shit you like."

You laughed as you led him to your car and unlocked it. "Just get in, birthday boy."

"It's not my birthday anymore," he whispered. "It's midnight." And then he laughed and added, "Well, you're Midnight, actually." He groaned and ducked down into your car when you opened the passenger side door for him. "Just ignore me."

You leaned in and helped him get his seatbelt on. "Now that would be impossible, Rooster."

Your face was close to his, and you weren't moving. Why weren't you moving? You weren't drunk. You'd had one beer, hours ago. You should be moving away from him. "You okay?" you finally asked, patting his chest where the seatbelt crossed him. 

"I like your face," Bradley told you, and then he wanted to disappear into thin air more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

"Thanks," you whispered with a smile. "That's sweet. I'll take you home now, okay?"

Bradley just nodded and cradled his face in his hands as you shut the door and walked around your car. When you closed your door and started the engine, he dared to glance at you before turning to look straight ahead. He would be home soon. And he could climb in bed and this would all be over.

--------------------------

Bradley was drunk. You'd never seen his cheeks so rosy or heard his voice so raspy before. It was a cute look on him, even though he seemed pretty far gone. But teasing him a little bit was always fun, because you knew nothing would ever happen.

"I like your face, too," you told him as you backed out of the parking space. "It's a very nice one. Handsome."

Bradley groaned and gaped at you. "What the fuck, Midnight?"

"What?" you asked, glancing at him before you pulled out onto the street. "You're handsome. All you guys are."

"Fucking Omaha," Bradley muttered, and you laughed as he cross his arms. 

"You don't like Omaha?"

Bradley scoffed. "Lieutenant Jawline? He can fuck right off."

You were now howling with laughter as you tried to make a left turn. "What does that make you then? Lieutenant Mustache?"

Bradley chuckled and tilted his head back. "I guess so. But that would make you Lieutenant Sexy Laugh and Beautiful Face."

You gasped and glanced at him as your belly swooped. He was flirting with you. But he was drunk. "That's too long to fit on my name tag."

"Baby, you're so perfect, you deserve two name tags. Maybe even three," he mumbled. "Maybe even a hundred name tags. I can think of a hundred different things I like about you."

You swallowed hard as you turned onto his street. After you had driven two blocks in a daze, you asked, "What's your house number?" You couldn't remember. You were having a hard time remembering anything. Because Bradley Bradshaw could think of a hundred different things he liked about you.

"I dunno," he groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair. "I can't remember anything except that time you wore shorts when we went to the beach and your bikini top was pink, and Nat made fun of me for being too embarrassed to tell you I think you're pretty."

You laughed softly as Bradley's eyes opened wide. "You are so drunk, Rooster! I can't believe we got you this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk," he muttered, turning in his seat to look at you as the light turned green.

"You don't even remember your house number!" you said, driving slowly down the street 

"I think it has an eight in it."

You laughed and pulled over, turning to look at him. "Rooster, what am I supposed to do with you?"

His eyes were soft as he lazily searched your face. "I can think of a few things. They all involve your lips."

You were the one gaping now. His eyes were unfocused, and no matter how badly you wanted to feel his mustache against your skin, you kept yourself a few feet away from him. When he leaned in, you brushed your fingers through his hair to keep him from getting closer. "Rooster," you whispered as he melted into your touch. "Do you want me to just take you to my place?"

His eyes bugged out, and he started to stutter. "Shit, I, well... Midnight, I-I..."

You let yourself stroke your fingers through his hair for a few more seconds before you eased him back against the seat and pulled back away from the curb. "You can sleep it off at my place, and I'll take you back for your Bronco in the morning."

"Sleep? At your place? Of all the things I have imagined doing there, sleep was not one of them."

He was very clearly a mess at the moment, but you couldn't help yourself. "Oh really? What have you imagined?"

He groaned loudly, closing his eyes and rubbing his palms along his face. "Imagined kissing you after I took you out to dinner. Kissing you on your couch and in your bed. Imagined how good you must taste."

Then he was quiet. You thought he must have fallen asleep. And as you pulled up to park in front of your apartment, you couldn't believe you'd gone out on a date with Omaha and let Omaha kiss you when there might have been even the slightest possibility that Rooster wanted to do those things. 

He was breathing softly now, his head resting on the window. When you got out and opened the passenger door slowly, he jolted awake and tried to climb out with the seatbelt still on him. You tried not to laugh, but it was just too funny. 

"Sit back, Rooster," you whispered, and you leaned across his big, warm body to unbuckle him. Then you took him by the hand and laced your fingers with his. You loved the way his hands felt, so big and secure. 

"That feels so nice," he murmured, pulling your hand against him. "Where are we going?"

He was trying to lead you away from your building, and you had to keep pulling him along with you. "Come this way, Rooster."

"Okay, baby. Whatever you want."

You just shook your head as you unlocked your building with his big body looming behind you. "I'm taking you to my apartment. You'll be fine, okay?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, and you wrapped your arm around him to get him inside. He stumbled down the hallway to your door, and once he was inside, you took his hand again. 

"Here's my bathroom," you said, turning on the light and leading him in. You dug around in one of the drawers and found an extra toothbrush. "You can use this. And the bedroom is next door."

"Thanks," he whispered, bending down to kiss you cheek softly. "Love you." You stood there stunned as Bradley turned toward your toilet and started to unzip his jeans. 

Then you quickly darted out of the bathroom and closed the door. You were stuck somewhere between laughing and dying from shock. This is not what you had signed up for when you agreed to drive him home! But maybe it was even better. Or maybe it was a lot worse, and he didn't really feel this way at all.  

When you heard the toilet flush, you headed to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. You'd let him sleep in your bed and you'd crash on the couch. You were pretty sure he wouldn't even fit on the couch anyway. The couch he told you he had imagined kissing you on.

What was going on here? 

The bathroom door opened, and you heard him say, "Midnight? I'm getting in bed."

"Okay," you replied with a laugh as you carried the waters into your bedroom. "I think you should drink this." He was wearing nothing except his boxer shorts, and your jaw dropped open. Because he was stunning. Big and muscular and fucking hot. "Water," you muttered, handing him a glass. 

He downed the whole thing in one big gulp, and then he set the glass down, swaying on his feet. "I think I need to sleep."

You nodded at him, and he was reaching for your hand, and you had no idea what to do. "What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, but he was scooping you up into his arms.

"Sleep," he muttered. 

"With me?" you gasped.

"Yep."

And a moment later, Bradley was behind you with his big arms wrapped around you, and he was sound asleep. 

--------------------------

Before he even cracked his eyes open, Bradley knew he had a headache. So he just burrowed further into the soft, sweet smelling blanket. He knew this smell. It was familiar and comforting. When he gathered the blanket up and buried his nose in it, he realized it smelled like you.

His eyes were open then, even though his head was pounding. He had never been in the room before. But he was sure it was yours. And the spot in bed next to him was still warm. 

"Oh no. Oh no," he groaned, covering his face with his hands. "What did you do?" Suddenly it was hard to breathe. He was in his underwear. In your bed. Hungover. Yesterday was his birthday. How did he even get here? He could remember playing pool with you at the Hard Deck, and then Nat took his key away. And... oh shit, he got in your car.

He was stumbling out of bed, looking for his clothing. He found his jeans and shirt neatly folded up on your desk chair. As quickly as he could, he pulled everything on and headed down the hallway.

You were in the kitchen, wearing shorts and a tank top, brewing coffee. You were perfect. Holy shit, you were everything. And he had already fucked this up.  

"Midnight?" His voice was rough and raw, and when you turned to look at him with a gorgeous smile on your face, he thought he was going to throw up. 

"Morning, Rooster. Sleep well?" you asked with a smirk. Bradley couldn't formulate solid thoughts. You were handing him a cup of coffee. You weren't wearing a bra. He had been in your bed with you, and he couldn't remember anything that happened.

"Did we hookup?" he blurted loudly, and you froze with the coffee mug in your hand. "Oh, shit, Midnight. Please tell me we didn't sleep together."

You no longer looked happy. But you were shaking your head with your eyes locked on his. "No," you whispered. "We didn't do anything."

As relief washed over Bradley, you turned away from him with the mug and looked out your kitchen window. "Thank goodness," he sighed.

"Yeah," you said softly. "That would have been terrible."

"Absolutely," he said, still catching his breath.

But now you didn't seem to want him around at all. "I'll call Nat and see if she can meet us with your key." You kept your back to him as you reached for your phone, and then Bradley closed the distance to you. 

"Hey, Midnight?" he asked, taking your phone from your hand. You glanced at him over your shoulder with annoyance. "Thanks for driving me last night."

"No problem," you replied quietly, avoiding his eyes now. 

"But why did you bring me here?"

You rolled your eyes. "You couldn't even remember your house number, and it was so dark, I couldn't tell which one was yours. Now let me take you back to your car, please?"

But then Bradley remembered telling you he could think of a hundred different things he liked about you. He remembered holding your hand and kissing your cheek. 

You were walking across the kitchen away from him, but he chased you down, lacing his fingers with yours. You only looked slightly surprised. "Did I completely embarrass myself last night?" he asked.

Despite your best efforts, you were smiling at him again. "I thought you were pretty damn endearing, actually." You tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, but he held you tight. 

"I can think of more than just a hundred things I like about you. So many more than that." He pulled you a little closer still. "You let me sleep in your bed with you?"

You sighed. "Don't worry, Rooster. We didn't hook up. We didn't even kiss. You just spooned me and passed out immediately."

Bradley groaned and tipped his head back. "I spooned you? I got to cuddle with you, and I don't even remember it? That's not fair!"

Another smile was dancing along your lips as you nodded. "You're really great at cuddling. Very warm." But then you bit your lip and looked at the floor. "Would it really have been so bad if we did more?"

"Yes!" he nearly shouted, and your startled eyes snapped up to his. "Baby, I want to remember that stuff in vivid detail!" 

You laughed and now Bradley was smiling. And then you kissed him softly, and he thought his heart was going to pound out of his chest. "You said some crazy stuff last night while you were drunk," you whispered, but he kept you close to him.

"I am pretty sure it was all true," he promised you. "But I'd be more than happy to fact check with you."

"You said you like my face."

"That's a fact," he said, nodding. 

"You said you wanted to do things with my lips."

"Oh, yeah. That's definitely a fact."

"You said you imagined taking me out to dinner and kissing me."

"Many times."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you asked, sounding annoyed.  

He kissed you again. "Fucking Omaha, baby. What's that all about?"

"Oh," you said softly. "That is something that is basically nothing. At least on my end of things. And I could happily put a stop to that."

"Like today?" he asked, running his lips along your neck. 

"Like five minutes ago, Rooster."

Then you had your arms around his neck, and Bradley's hands were all over you. Your soft sigh as he kissed your lips had him scooping you up into his arms. "Can I have a do-over? Can we get back in your bed and cuddle?"

"Yes," you whispered as your mouth brushed his neck while your fingers went to his hair. 

This time Bradley kept his clothes on, and when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, he laced his fingers with yours. "I like this. We should do this all the time."

"We will," you promised, and his lips and mustache found your neck as he buried his nose in your hair. "I hope you had a fun birthday."

He needed to remember to thank Nat for being a pain in his ass when he saw her later. "I did. But today is even better."

---------------------------

Midnight, you're so lucky, babe! Upgrading from Lieutenant Jawline to Lieutenant Mustache! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

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[saphronethaleph]

Lizard v Wizard

“Long have I waited for my grandchild to come home…” Palpatine said, then the smile fell off his face. “...you are not my grandchild.”

“Yeah, we swapped jobs,” Finn agreed, shrugging off a backpack and letting it drop to the floor. “Rey said she was having visions about her falling to evil and sitting on the throne of the Sith, and I said that I hadn’t had any of those visions.”

“Your arrogance will be your downfall, boy,” Palpatine informed him. “Either I will destroy you or you will turn to the Dark Side.”

Finn paused, frowning.

“...huh,” he said. “You really do call it that? I guess I owe Rey an apology.”

“Explain yourself,” Palpatine snapped. “What are you talking about?”

“The Dark Side,” Finn explained, stressing the word. “Seriously, you use that language and it’s going to make me think the Force is a bit racist.”

Palpatine sat in complete silence for several seconds, as his brain rebooted.

“I mean, if you were black yourself, I’d maybe buy the idea that it’s meant to be a matter of pride,” Finn went on. “Reclaiming the term, and all that. But then again you have this whole white power thing going on with the stormtroopers, so it’s not that.”

He shrugged. “And then there’s the bit where you blow up planets as a hobby, because that just makes it really obvious that you’re not even trying to pretend any more.”

“I am going to do you the courtesy of ignoring your nonsense,” Palpatine said, icily. “Make your choice. Turn to the Dark Side, or die.”

Finn laughed.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re making that sound like it’s a threat that works.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

“I escaped from the First Order and I was on a capital ship when it got hyperspace rammed,” Finn said. “Also, I came here to fight you, which I think qualifies as a particularly elaborate suicide anyway.”

He shrugged, walking around in a half circle. “I would like to survive this, don’t get me wrong, but… like… if I don’t, and you don’t, I actually think that’s an absolute win.”

“I’ve made my decision,” Palpatine said, with an almost glassy calm. “I’m going to kill you now.”

He raised his hand, which spat lightning, and the lightning stabbed out at Finn – and vanished, as it passed over his backpack.

Finn picked the backpack up again. “Huh, they work,” he said. “Lando said it would but I had to take it on trust.”

Palpatine looked at his hands, then tried to blast Finn for a second time. Again the lightning vanished, then both men looked around at the sound of running feet.

“Rey, I hope you’re in here!” Ben said, then skidded to a halt. “Aren’t you the traitor?”

“We call ourselves the Resistance,” Finn answered. “What are you doing here?”

“Running away from a dozen very angry ex-followers!” Ben replied. “I’ve turned back to the Light Side.”

“Huh,” Finn replied. “Away from the Evil Side?”

“It’s called the Dark Side,” Ben corrected.

“We already had this discussion before you turned up, I think the term Dark side is racist,” Finn said, then Palpatine tried to electrocute him again.

“STOP IGNORING ME!” Palpatine shouted.

“I never thought of it that way, but I think it’s meant to be the absence of light, as in starlight?” Ben guessed, as the sound of stampeding Knights of Ren came down the corridor.

Something exploded overhead.

“Huh, Rey must be doing well,” Finn said, ignoring Palpatine. “And, yeah, I can buy that.”

He reached into the backpack. “Blaster or lightsaber?”

“I don’t have a lightsaber and I would really like one,” Ben said, then caught the Skywalker Lightsaber as Finn threw it to him. “Thank you so much.”

Finn retrieved a blaster from the bag as well, then did something that went beep.

“Five,” he said, throwing the bag at Palpatine. “Four. Three.”

Palpatine raised his hand to bat the backpack away, and got hit in the face by it.

For his part, Finn dove to the floor, and Ben did so as well just before Finn’s count hit zero, and a thermal detonator went off.

The explosion did unfortunately kill the ysalamir in the bag, but by then Palpatine was a little bit too dead to take advantage.

[stonegoldsxcrxt]

Ah, Star Wars fans. Once again perpetuating the Draco in Leather Pants trope to the point where we're all sick of it. Do I have to beat someone with the 'He's-Supposed-To-Be-Evil' Stick or something?

yeah. the acolyte itself as a show is straddling a line right now that, I'm sorry, I kind of don't think the Star Wars fandom at large is media literate enough to understand.

I've already seen a number of tiktoks and tumblr posts saying, "omg now I understand reylos," which besides being exhausting and annoying, immediately proves my point. There's obviously some differences between reylo and whatever osha/qimir is called within both production and the narrative, but overall what I'm baffled by every. single. time. is how weirdly everyone in the star wars fandom reacts to an attractive male villain blatantly manipulating a young woman.

I think the acolyte is clearly aiming for us to see and understand that Qimir is manipulating Osha. We know Qimir is clever. We saw him successfully worm his way out of being caught by the Jedi by playing up the "quirky sidekick" shtick. What I don't think a lot of the audience picks up on is just how smart he is. During one of his and Osha's conversations, he lets her suggest things and make assumptions, ie:

Osha: Where’d you get that scar?

Qimir: How do you think I got it?

Osha: Looks like someone stabbed you in the back.

Qimir: Someone who threw me away.

Osha: Your Jedi Master?

And then he doesn't correct her or elaborate. He lets her assume the worst. He lets her imagination wander. He's not interested in explaining because he knows the real story, whatever it may be, doesn't make him look as favorable as her idea. It's exchanges like that that are subtle examples of his manipulation, less obvious than the outright goading he uses against her when he gets her to admit she thinks of herself as a failure and that's why she left the Jedi.

There's also the earlier exchange:

Osha: He’s found me before, and his strength in the Force is very powerful.

Qimir: You think that’s his strength? That’s your strength in the Force, Osha. Someone ought to teach you that.

To a lot of people, that sounds like a compliment. But it isn't. Qimir makes a statement vague enough that successfully implies the Jedi have been lying to Osha about her own strength in the Force while also keeping just enough information to himself that he knows Osha will stick around to find out what he meant, instead of swimming to the ship he points out to her right after. And she does exactly that, continues to follow and engage in argument and conversation with him.

In fact, Qimir knows the more Osha talks to him, the more Osha even entertains the idea of talking to him instead of leaving, the more he can get inside her head. His naked swimming jaunt isn't him flaunting or showing off for Osha in some genuinely romantic way– it's yet another manipulation tactic. Though, if she is seduced, that helps him too.

Qimir purposefully makes himself into a vulnerable state in front of her to lull her into a false sense of security. He leaves his weapon with his clothes so she has the opportunity to take it; he is signalling to her that he is "completely" disarmed, though that is not true, since we know he is far stronger in the Force and in combat, and, perhaps, more cunning than Osha. His nudity forces Osha to acknowledge he is human, and Qimir benefits from Osha thinking of him as just a quirky, charming loner who's the victim of the Jedi, who offers her soup and disrobes in front of her.

The reason I know that none of this is genuine is simple. He goes back and forth between flat out acting as if he pities Osha ("Why do you love people who can only go so far?") but that doesn't get him the reaction he's looking for, so he bounces back to antagonizing her ("Why aren’t you a Jedi, Osha?) to finally, convincing her that she is similar to him ("I understand.") None of these things are actually Qimir trying to get to know Osha. Sure, he needs to understand her to manipulate her, but he'd do or say anything to get her to stick around and allow him to corrupt her further.

to me, Qimir is kind of the Star Wars equivalent to like a mimic species in the animal world. He's smart enough to know that in order to get what he wants, he has to act a certain way that isn't necessarily his real personality, and he can exploit Osha's (and anyone else's, for that matter) feelings by molding his personality and actions to achieve his goals so his victims are less likely to notice that he's using them.

The problem is that a big portion of the audience doesn't appear to recognize it, either. We know the rules of the Star Wars universe very well by now. Force Users this deep in the Dark Side cannot actually love someone. Sure, they can be obsessed with someone, but they cannot actually reciprocate feelings as the Dark Side corrupts them.

I've come to the conclusion that the majority of people watching Star Wars are not watching with the intention of picking up on any of this, despite the fact that the acolyte is actually doing it quite masterfully. They are paying attention to Manny Jacinto's muscles, and little else. You cannot argue or convince people who do not want to listen. They did not want to listen in 2017, when the reddest of red flags "You're nothing, but not to me," line was delivered, which had all the subtlety of being hit over the head with an anvil, and they are not listening now. If people are able to be gaslit by Kylo Ren into believing his victim card was validated, they will certainly and inevitably be gaslit by Qimir, who, so far, is much more cunning.

the acolyte even *plans* for this though, deliberately and suddenly cutting to the scene of Jecki's lifeless body, reminding the audience that Qimir is not the quirky, charming, harmless loner who he presents himself to be, but actually a man who we know to be capable of unspeakable acts of violence towards even children. at this point, I can't actually see any reason why the fandom continues to act like he is in love with Osha in any kind of genuine manner when it's so mind-blowingly obvious that he is male manipulator #1.

I think does a huge disservice to the story the acolyte seems to be trying to present at this point to be so blind with lust or whatever it is the fandom feels towards this guy that his own tactics have begun to work on them. it's actually so incredible that it makes me a bit ill. they may find him hot all they want, but for the love of Leia Organa's Star Wars at least recognize his tactics for what they are instead of also allowing yourself to be fooled!!

[princesachicana]

𝐞𝐥𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 (drew starkey x reader)

description: you and drew with newborn babies.

“Aren’t they soo cute” You gushed snuggling further into Drew’s arms. He held the baby monitor in one hand,as his other lightly massaged your back. Your twins Eli and Eliana were born just 3 weeks ago. Although it was very hectic at first dealing with two needy newborn babies, you both got the hang of it pretty quickly.

The dirty diapers, feedings, crying was a new normal for the both of you. Seeing each other step into their respective parent roles warmed your hearts. This is what you both have wanted for so long. The domestic bliss that consumed the house was perfect. "Just like their mama." Drew peppered kisses onto your cheek. "And their daddy!" you teased back with a smile. The love you felt everyday made you feel whole, Drew worshiped everything about you. His love for you only grew now that you were the mother of his children.

"Did you get a chance to respond to that email?" you questioned your fiancé as he placed the baby monitor back onto its charger. Early this morning as you were pumping and Drew was putting the twins back into their cribs he received a email from his management. They wanted to know when he planned on going back to work. You knew that the last thing Drew was worried about was working. He'd been telling everyone on his team he’d get back to it soon. “Yeah, want me to read this script.”

You felt your muscles tense at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to go back to work. You were terrified of being alone again. You knew that it was a low possibility that whatever role he’d take next would allow him to stay home. All the best job offer’s required him to travel sometimes across the country. And with you being a new mom to a set of twins only made you more anxious. You needed him here. But you didn’t want to be the one holding him back from any opportunities.

“Did you read it?” You questioned fiddling with the strings on his sweats. “Didn’t want to” His response came immediately as if he wanted to be done with this conversation. Drew had only read the character description before he was interrupted by the screams of Eli and Eliana. And without second thought he went and comforted his little family. “It’s when the babies were going crazy, they both wanted your boobs.” Drew cracked a smile when you grimaced. Not even three hours ago it was as if your newborn babies were having a screaming match. Alls they wanted was to be fed and both wanted to be the first at it. “Don’t remind me i felt like a horrible mom choosing between them.”

Drew shook his head “Don’t ever say that.” Hooking a finger under your chin he looked into your eyes. “They got the best mom ever you hear me?” He leaned in pressing a long kiss against your lips. You smiled against his lips. “It was Eli’s turn to breast feed! but Eliana hates bottle feeding she won’t eat and it’s the same milk!” You laughed at your very picky baby. “And even though Eli doesn’t mind bottle feedings, the doctor said it’s important for him to get that one on one time with me too you know?”

Drew pulled you closer draping your legs over his lap. “Didn’t she suggest the bottle nipples that are similar to these.” Drew smirked as he slyly grabbed onto one of your breasts. It wasn’t a secret your postpartum body turned him on to no end. “Yea, she did. They should be delivered in like two days.” You pulled his hand away. You couldn’t afford being aroused after the doctors strict rules of “no sex for six weeks.” Drew threw his head back with a groan.

“Baby now i can’t even cop a feel?” Your laugh only made him whimper. “No! because I’d get turned on and we wouldn’t be able to do anything about that!” You defended. “Only three more weeks we got this!” Drew made prayer hands with his eyes closed. Your favorite thing was to tease your man so when you started leaving kisses down his neck he actually groaned. “You’re fucking evil.” Drew’s hands gripped your hips before dragging them down onto your ass. The action only made it worse for him as you moved over his lap. “I think feel something hard, left something in your pocket hmm?” You joked when he hissed. “I can’t help it my fiancé is sexy.” Drew pulled you back in for a kiss.

Crackling from the baby monitor halted your movements. A cry was heard, making you move off Drew quickly . You grabbed the monitor immediately drew looking at it over your shoulder at the same speed. “It’s Eliana she’s awake.” You blew out a breath, she was fine. “I’ll grab her so she doesn’t wake up Eli.” You nodded as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead leaving the room.

“She’s wide awake.” Drew smiled as he held baby Eliana to his chest, her eyes searching all around the room. You walked up to them with a fond smile. “She’s such a night owl.” You brought your finger to Eliana’s little fist, heart warming when she wrapped a tiny hand around it. “Then we got our boy over there who could sleep through a hurricane.” Drew adjusted her on his chest.

You laughed at that, where eliana stayed up all night and always fought nap time. Eli was the first to wake up and take the longest naps. “Our next one gonna be another girl mark my words!” Drew stated matter of factly.

“Already thinking of having another one?” You gasped. “What can i say I like seeing you pregnant knowing it’s my baby I put in there.” He smirked.

[obihoebikenobi-ficrecs]

Poolverine Series: to gain true love, one must first lose their wolvirginity, i don't make the rules

By: obihoebikenobi, 23.6K as of September 13th, 2024

It's a love story baby just get fucked. Logan and Wade's love story, written in somewhat disconnected parts.

I descended into Poolverine hell and wrote a 20K and counting series about these two fuckers. Featuring: softness, migraines, love confessions, domesticity, and fucking. All that good shit.

See summaries, relevant tags, ratings, and links to all fics on ao3 below.

PART 1: i wanna hold your hand (and colossal dick, eventually), 3.5K

Rating: M

Tags: alcohol withdrawl, vomiting, literally sharing a bed, bathing/washing

“Fuck you, Wade.” “If only,” Wade said, trailing a finger over a seam on the quilt with feigned yearning, “I long for the day you allow me the pleasure of ravishing your raw skin-saber, maybe with a side of penetration–” “The only thing I’ll be penetrating is your eye sockets with these,” Logan flashed his claws, “If you so much as speak to me while we are still in this bed tomorrow morning.” “Joke's on you, I will gladly and enthusiastically take any form of penetration, in existing or fresh new holes, as long as it’s from you, Peanut.” Logan’s head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Wade’s persistent blabbering, or the fact that the last of the alcohol was wearing off. “Go the fuck to sleep.” Logan downed the last sip of vodka and willed his body to cooperate. Withdrawal was a bitch. (one pull-out couch, two bitches, vomiting, and the works, now with fucking in part two!)

PART 2: a little bit more than hand holding, 2.7K

Rating: E

Tags: wade is obsessed with dicks, bottom wade, little bit of praise kink, logan just wants a kissi

“Oh so that’s your horny face then? Watery eyes, clenched teeth? Nothing hotter than a tortured poet with a heart of gold who cries during sex.” “Wade–” “If that’s horny I’d love to see your O-face–” Wade threw an arm over his forehead, gasping. “Can you just shut the fuck up for one goddamn second, asshole?” Logan dared a sharp glance in Wade’s direction, finding him sitting perfectly still with a pleasant smile painted across his face. The smug piece of shit knew Logan wanted him. Logan cleared his throat, “Now that I have your attention,” he started, earning a snort from Wade, “So we’re clear, the more words that come out of your mouth, the more likely I’m going to sleep early and no one's getting fucked.”   (wade loses his wolvirginity)

PART 3: lesser of two evils, right?, 7.5K

Rating: E

Tags: sub logan (kinda), crying during sex, soft, rimming, angst, praise kink

“When you’re done being a bitter little bitch, I’m offering you a massage, of the non-dick variety. Because I am a nice person.” It was, indeed, surprisingly nice. Logan stared at him, hating himself for actually wanting the fucking massage, because he sure as shit shouldn’t have wanted it. “I’m going to take that blank, lifeless stare as a hell yeah. So take off your shirt and come with daddy,” Wade pointed toward the bedroom expectantly, lips drawn into a wide smile. “Don’t call yourself that again. Ever.” What a little shit. (logan gets migraines, but also gets a massage, and an orgasm. it's a lot.)

PART 4: holding hands (gone sexual), 5.3K

Rating: E

Tags: discussion of consent and logan's past issues, insecure logan, bottom logan, domestic fluff, love confessions, praise kink

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Oh for fuck’s sake. Logan probably shouldn’t have stopped considering throwing himself in a meat grinder– “Have I died in my sleep? Is this yet another whimsical dream where I have a house husband to take care of my every need and whim whilst I labor away every fucking single day, with so little appreciation, just to feed our child–” “Shut the fuck up,” Logan muttered, feeling the stain of red warmth over his cheeks. “I don’t know what I have done to deserve this, Peanut, but I am so fucking turned on right now. I might come in my pants. That happens when people are nice to me.” “Wade, it’s waffles–” “Don’t be a kink-shamer, baby girl. Benevolence and breakfast foods get me going. Don’t even get me started on sausages.” (logan explores his feelings with wade, makes waffles for wade, gets fucked by wade, falls in love...with wade)

PART 5: and they were boyfriends (and roomates), 4.4K

Rating: E

Tags: love confessions, insecure logan, drinking to cope, angst and hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

“I’m good.” For whatever reason, Wade apparently took that as an invitation to sit down next to him, and Logan growled, moving over so they weren’t touching. Wade shivered, scoffing at him, and kicking Logan’s foot. “Clearly not, Peanut. You’ve smoked a week’s wage of cigs in three hours and I’m fairly certain you’re still not unfucked up from all that cheap-ass donkey piss you call whiskey.” Logan was seconds, maybe milliseconds, from punching him in the fucking face–with claws–but he held back, knowing Wade only thrived on retaliation. “What’s it matter to you?” The words felt sour on his tongue and he practically spat them in Wade’s direction. “Well,” Wade took a deep breath, “I’m probably the reason–scratch that–I’m definitely the reason you’re clearly not good.” (wade takes a mid love-confession job, logan drinks about it. cue angst. subsequently, boyfriendship.)

[goodday-goodmorn]

Not used to posting things so fast- But the brain worms have infected me and @auspicioustidings concepts give me life. Once again- another from them, i felt contractually obligated to write this because my auntie is in Vegas for her birthday right now.

The concept in question

Not the after effects of waking up- but rather the proposal itself. This one’s short cause i pumped it out real quick. Just a little dabble.

————————

Ah Vegas. City of love. Wait no that was Paris- city of… sin? Well that sounded too much like a trashy YA romance novel for your tastes so- Vegas, City of…

Vegas: City!

God maybe you should lay off the M and M’s. Lavender and Bright cyan blue little things from the M and M factory are making you really taste the rainbow. Shit that was skittles catchphrase wasn’t it? Actually- did M and M’s even have a catchphrase other than the sexy brown M and M? Though that was less a phrase more a person. Er- candy. Chocolate.

Pah! You should have never gone to the M and M factory. Stupid little chocolate candy is making you think far more than you can handle right now.

Seriously it’s messing with your head. You’d better get rid of them.

You throw your M and M factory bag onto the floor, watching all the candies scatter the pavement in an explosion of color. That's why the pretty colors are so dangerous and not sold in the normal packs. They make people all loopy. Cause there’s no other reason you would be so outta sorts.

Except maybe the daiquiri you’d had. And the Manhattan. And those shots. And whatever that weird drink in a glowing lightbulb was.

Okay maybe it wasn’t the M and M’s.

Which means you just threw them out for nothing oh no! 20 dollars down the drain. And your M and M’s!

You whine mournfully over the loss, sinking to the ground dramatically and cradling one of the cyan shelled candies close.

“Is everything all… right?”

You barely register the voice- British and a bit rugged- before you are drunkenly rambling out-

“No- i thought my M and M’s were evil but they weren’t and i killed them for nothing!” You cry out, the words making you even more emotional, you pathetically sob, holding the cyan candy in your palms to your chest.

“Come back! Liveee please. Papa didn’t mean it i swear, i didn’t know what i was saying- you got me all tongue tied!”

“Hey-“

Oh british man has a very nice voice, so smooth and gentle, more than you were expecting.

“It’s alright love. We can get you some more candies.”

You sniffle.

“R-really?”

He smiles like some sort of teddy bear. Gentle and soft.

“Yes really. Just gotta get you back to wherever you’re stayin at first. It’s dangerous for a pretty girl to be on the street like this.”

You nod sollumly. “For the m and m’s yeah. Hard shells- but thin. Can’t be carrying em’ out in the cold. Poor little fellows can’t stand it.”

“Think you should be worrying about yourself first love.”

He really does look a teddy bear when he smiles. A very warm and cuddly teddy bear. Very warm. And you are oh so cold. Maybe…

“…maybe i’m and M and M.”

You mumble with a little frown, looking away from his oh so pretty eyes to instead stare at the cracked M and M in your hand.

He chuckles, it’s a nice sound.

“Com’re lovely. You’re shiverin.”

He held you up and you cling to him naturally. To your disappointment and utter display he is not as soft as a Teddy bear. Such false advertising. When you burry your head in his chest, while warm and soothing- it is firm with muscle. Hard just like his arms and co-

“Not exactly what i meant by that sweetheart.”

He’s pushing you away! Away from the warmth.

“No, I'm an M and M- gotta be warm or else I'll crack! Do you want me to die?”You whine out trying to stay close but he’s very strong, holding you firmly away from his toned chest.

(And raging boner. Not that you noticed it.)

“I know, I know- here. I’ll give you my coat.”

He wraps you up in his thick but soft coat and you relax immediately, snuggling into the fabric. With your eyes closed you hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“There’s a girl. Nice and warm now?”

You nod, making a drowsy and soft little “Yup.”

“Good. Now come’on. You know where's your hotel at?”

“Huh? We can’t go there! We gotta get more M and M’s first. Silly.”

“Right, course. Silly me.”

You giggle a bit hysterical. He agrees with you so easily, letting you link arms with him and walking you to the M and M factory. He’s so silly. With his cozy coat and koala-esc smile and pretty eyes and rumbly voice and-

“I think m’ in love with you.” You slur out, gazing at him with half lidded eyes.

“Shouldn’t say stuff like that sweetheart. Might give a guy ideas.”

Ah Ideas, you’ve got a lot of ideas. So many fun ones- but mostly one that you blurt out after he gently pushed your hand away when you tried to pay for your new M and M’s.

“I think I wanna kiss you.”

Price pauses as he tugs you outside the shop. Looks down at you, clinging to his arm, wrapped up in his coat; with the sweetest face and clearly wasted out of your mind. Price isn’t a good man. A good man would have called you a cab to get you back to your hotel. Would have asked if you had any friends to get you there. Would have gently told you to go to the stupid M and M factory another time.

He’s not a good man but even Price isn’t fucked up enough to take advantage of a pretty drunk girl. Even if his self control is wilting the more time he spends around the mess that is you.

He shakes his head with a little sigh, leaning down close to you and mumbling.

“S’ not a good idea to kiss strangers love.”

“So then marry me and we won’t be strangers.”

…Self control John. Self control.

“Will you marry me please?”

You plead with the teddy bear man, he’s just so cozy and pretty you can’t help it. You wanna kiss him soooo bad but he’s right you can’t kiss a stranger! But if he was your husband then it would be perfectly acceptable. And you are an ordained minister technically so it all works out!

Price looks at you, your pleading eyes, your softness, you wrapped up in his coat and clinging to his arm. Pretty little thing.

…He deserves to let his self control slip just this once right?

[thatdude01181]

It's been awhile-JO

A/n: Request from maxwell_49

You and Jenna grew up together, inseparable from the age of 6. You would do everything together.

But when you both turned 11, Jenna started acting, and had to move to be closer to Las Angeles. You vowed to do anything to see Jenna again. So you begged your parents to enroll you in acting lessons.

After four years of background roles and commercials you finally got your big break. You were casted in Stuck in the middle along side Jenna.

You were both 15 by this point. You began to reminisce, remembering Jenna's smile, her laugh. You'd do anything give anything to hear it again.

"Jenna!" You called out as you saw her on set.

She looked at you, but then looked away, not paying any attention. She would only interact with you in scenes where she was acting with you. You would try to talk to her off set but she would just ignore you.

After stuck in the middle ended, a few months later, you were offered a few different roles. At the age of 18 after you graduated highschool you started acting in horror and action movies, you starred in Halloween and a live action adaptation of resident evil 2, playing Leon Scott Kennedy.

You were 19 when Tim Burton, director of the Michael Keaton Batman movies, nightmare before Christmas and Beetlejuice, among other movies, called you offering you a role in the upcoming Netflix show Wednesday.

"You'll be acting alongside Jenna Ortega, I'm told you know each other." He said as you rubbed your temples.

"Yeah, we were friends as kids, and we acted in last season of stuck in the middle. Haven't really had contact" you said sighing.

"Well the thing is, she actually recommended you for the role.Wants you specifically." He said.

"What's the role?"

"You'll be playing a vampire werewolf hybrid named Adam corvin" he said, soon after you hung up and he sent you the script and you read it. It seemed you were one of Wednesdays love interests.

You arrived in Romania a day before filming was to start. You stood on one of the sets talking to some of your cast mates when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

"Y/n"

You turned and saw Jenna, and you just turned and walked away.

You arrived at your trailer when you heard Jenna calling you again. Walking inside and closing the door you took off your jacket and threw it on the chair as you heard a knock on the door.

As you opened it Jenna forced her way in with a kiss.

You stood there surprised but soon returned the kiss. Jenna pulled away as tears streamed down her face.

"I'm sorry" she said, "I never, ever should have ignored you like that. And it killed me that I couldn't talk to you, but the other actors made me think that you were a loser"

You stood there silent still stunned by the kiss.

"I wanted to talk to you so bad, to tell you that I missed you, to hug you, to kiss you"

You snapped back to reality and stared at her.

"Will you please say something?" She asked as you took her face in your hands and kissed her. She snaked her hands around your neck and returned the kiss.

"How can you forgive me so easily?"

"Because you are just so easy to forgive" you said as she kissed you again.

"I love you" she said "I always have and always will"

"I love you too." You said as you held her close.

[lylyisbored]

Ok, finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine. Thoughts:

spoilers ahead

Things I liked:

-Cavillrine. Wade should've name dropped "those shitfucks down the street" as warner bros execs specifically but I know it wasn't viable. Henry you're my true superman (and Geralt) forever.

-Hugh Jackman, obviously. He always puts his everything into this character and it's beautiful.

-Backstreet boys' Bye bye bye in the beginning (cheeky nod to Wade swinging both ways? Or all the ways actually)

-Soundtrack in general. I have the impression that they tried to use songs that were popular at the time the fox films they referenced were released and that was sweet. Pure nostalgia.

-Is it just me or the fights between Logan and Wade felt a lot bit homoerotic at times? Especially the car fight. Not just the coreography but like.. the camera slowly panning away while showing the car shaking up and down as the daylight fades? Like, damn. okay. I see what you did there..

That and the other little moments where they weren't fighting but were in close proximity/contact with each other bc reasons. Good job u guys. 10/10 👍🏼

-X23. I'd really like to see her back as the main timeline x23 but i don't trust Disney to not fuck this up.

-All the cameos really. Channing Tatum was avenged too by finally being able to play gambit which is good tho I wish he had the black and red eyes from the cartoons that would've been cool. But yeah he was really funny. (My fancast for main timeline Gambit is still Josh Hartnett tho, that being said Channing was still a good Remy)

-Cassandra was a nice surprise, I didn't know that character or the actress and she made a surprisingly fun creepy villain.

Things I didn't like or threw me off bc im too much of a nerd to not notice:

-Vanessa being fridged without actually being fridged. She was in this movie even less than in the movie where she got killed?Someone really "didn't want to share the spotlight" this time lol

-No but seriously, the reason they broke up wasn't clear/didn't make much sense to me, although I have to praise the acting. I think they just wanted an excuse to make Wade spiral again but they don't know what to do with a no-powers character in a superhero movie unless they're a male comic relief?

-The staples on the head gag. It was funny at first but. regenerative powers. His body should have pushed them out at most a couple seconds after, like it does with bullets. They could still have made a joke out of it.

-And I actually only realized this after watching the film but shouldn't Wolverine also not be able to get drunk bc of his powers? In Deadpool's game Wade can't get drunk bc of exactly bc of that and in Catfa Steve can't get drunk while mourning Bucky for the same reason. And I'm pretty sure his regenerative powers are pretty mild compared to Logan and Wade's.

-They missed a chance to throw in a zip it Mr Darcy. or Tom. Both would've worked. Personally I'm partial to Mr Darcy cause I'm a 2005 p&p stan and I haven't watched Succession yet but yk either would've been good.

-A lil peck between Yukio and Negasonic would've been nice 🥺

-Things I wished would've happened even though most of it can't bc Disney, but a girl can still daydream dammit: 

-Gwenpool

-T-rex-pool

-Mention of Logan being poly with Jean and Scott (it's my hc regardless)

-Pyro having had a enemies to enemies who fuck thing with Iceman at an earlier point in time (also my hc regardless)

-Mention of how ooc and creepy and completely nonsensical cap's "ending" was.

-Mention of Stucky

-The tva actually being evil

-Domino. I miss her. Actually all the X-Force members that were missing except for the vanisher for obvious reasons. Fuck that guy. My hc is that Wade saved all of them anyway. Except for, again, the vanisher.

-The timelines get fixed to keep existing when their franchises die. They keep on going we just don't see them anymore. I think implying that they die when hollywood doesn't make movies about them/they are not canon anymore is dismissive of fanworks. The multiverse should be infinite and all the stories imagined about a character whether it's "canon" or not exist somewhere no matter how terrible or ridiculous or wonderful it is. We just so happen to get to see only a handful of them in live action.

-Karl Urban as an alternate Wolverine (he's my fancast for the main timeline logan).

-The fact that if Ben Affleck got a subtle jab, Brad Pitt should've gotten 2. Non subtle ones. At all. Idk about you but I think physical abuse is a liiil worse than cheating. Just saying.

-Vanessa having powers. Hear me out: I know that her powers in the comics are basically the same as Mystique's (she's even blue too) BUT they could've made her be like that chick from Heroes that could do anything she saw other people do just by watching them. I would've been different enough from Mystique AND it would've still made sense with her superhero name being Copycat.

-Vanessa and Wade being polyamorous too

Conclusion: I think I might prefer deadpool 2 a juust a tad bit but I still really liked this one :) . It's definitely much better than anything mcu has being releasing lately

Ps: Johnny sweetie ilysm but you're a fucking idiot

Ps²: Wade sweetie ilysm but you absolutely were responsible for it, you didn't have to quote him on that.

Ps³: RIP nicepool I'm sure you were good papa to dogpool no matter how jealous prime deadpool was. Also I loved The Proposal.

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ WVBA Baking Headcanons ☆

omg WVBA baking together real...imagine this like a bake-off except everyones kitchen is really close & theyre all screaming at each other

Glass Joe

- originally his idea

- trying to extinguish any fires that happen

- accidentally put a fork in the oven

- makes really good cookies

- the best baker here other than piston hondo & bull

- "Aran stop eating the raw dough youre gonna get salmonella"

- "nuh uh"

- accidentally set the sink on fire

- hes basically playing fnaf the way he has to check everything

- the oven's screen broke so he has to check up on the cookies often

Von Kaiser

- keeps accidentally setting things on fire with his horrible baking skills

- "I SET THE COOKIES ON FIRE, MOVE!!"

- has to have a fire extinguisher by his side at all times

- cookies so burnt they qualify as rocks now, kaiser you had one job, ONE JOB.

- has to sob halfway through

- "kaiser are you okay??"

- "ja.." as hes hysterically sobbing

- dont let him go near an oven ever again

Disco Kid

- doing his best, some of the batch came out okay but the rest can be considered hate speech

- "wheres the flour?? Who took the flour??"

- "Maybe the true flour were the friends we made along the way"

- "give me my flour back Aran i gotta fucking bake"

- slipped while holding a tray of cookies, dramatically screamed "NOO!!" like he saw his house get burnt down or something

- he cant live laugh love out of this can he?

King Hippo

- eating the raw dough with Aran

- "This is gourmet dining, aran"

- "youre damn right"

- hes just making raw dough & eating it

- hes pretty sure he can stomach salmonella (he can actually)

- doing everything but baking

Piston Hondo

- look at him go, hes BAKING. HES SLAYING. unlike king hippo

- will smack your hand with the whisk if you try to eat the cookies before they cool down

- chasing Aran with said whisk

- "GET YOUR GRUBBY HANDS OFF THE COOKIE DOUGH, SALMONELLA MAN."

- "OKAY FINE"

- doing a decent job actually

- helping disco kid bake a new batch

Great Tiger

- Really good at managing stuff thanks to his clones, ones guarding his cookie dough from Aran, ones checking the oven and the others are checking in on the other boxers

- trying to help kaiser with his hellcookies

- has a seperate tray for cookie dough because he knows Aran is still gonna get to the cookie dough anyways

- "just take this tray of raw cookie dough and get out of my way"

- "hehehehe" Then he runs off like a evil gremlin with the cookie dough while cackling

- his ovens screen also broke

Bear Hugger

- tried to bake but ended up also eating his cookie dough

- had to bake another fresh batch

- added WAYYY too much sugar & butter along with chocolate, at this point they arent even cookies theyre diabetes discs

- baked another fresh batch for his squirrel friend with lots of nuts along with some big ones for the bears

- concerned for Arans stomach

- "are you sure your stomach is gonna handle that well"

- "yeah"

- "alright then" he had to hold Arans hair back while he threw up after that

Don Flamenco

- Decorating his cookies

- stealing piston hondos recipe (hes okay with that dont worry)

- his cookies look really pretty, his baking classes are paying off

- underbaked his cookies because he likes it that way

Aran Ryan

- eating all the raw cookie dough

- oh my fucking god the salmonella is gonna kick his ass (and it did end up kicking his ass)

- got really ill and had to be hospitalized, he has no regrets

- set the oven on fire (intentionally)

- getting bullied into the ground for having salmonella

Soda Popinski

- worst cookies ever

- tried to add soda to his cookies, ended up making a deadly weapon with it

- had to settle for dipping his cookies in soda, it tastes good to him

- his oven smells like soda & chocolate now

Bald Bull

- best cookies ever. Literally husband material

- has to smack peoples hands with a wooden spoon because they keep trying to steal his cookies

- "oh my fucking god, get your hands away from my cookies"

- everyone pretty much loves his cookies

- made some tea along with the cookies

Super Macho Man

- tried to bake his face onto the cookies, they ended up terrifying

- "damn this oven is a hater"

- "no youre just bad at baking"

- tried to put his hand in the oven to test the tempature, had to stop using that hand for a while

Mr Sandman

- Oh god oh fuck oh shit

- THE KITCHEN IS ON FIRE

- hondo had to help him put out the fire since he was petrified

- traumatized

- oh no oh god someone help him hes gonna set the oven on fire again

- had to bake with piston hondo since hes awful at baking

[princess-of-the-corner]

Yeah. The ML writing team really misses the point on Chloé.

They show her being used by others and think it's comeuppance for her philosophy of using others *that she was taught* rather than the tragedy of a child ruined by parental neglect, parental abuse, actual misparenting, and a social/school system so inattentive it couldn't catch two kids cheating from the ages of 6-14.

Like, it's a take but it's such a dark and cruel take I can't wrap my head around the mind that would conceive it.

Yeah it's just.

They give her too many reasons to be sympathetic, and three seasons focusing on her wanting to be good and being a Hero and then getting betrayed by the Hero and manipulated by the Villain.

Only to say it was all fake? And that she was just evil? Threw away her chance at being good because she was spoiled?

And that's. Not. What's shown at all.

We have three seasons. Three whole seasons of Chloé adoring Ladybug. And being just an annoyance to Marinette. And genuinely caring about Adrien and Sabrina. And seeing her abusive mother and her neglectful/enabling father. And watching her want to change, make steps to change. Help the Heroes both as a civilian and eventually as a Hero herself, even when her classmates are mocking her attempts and trying to tell her she's not worth it. Have multiple episodes of the grown adult villain setting things up to manipulate her and make her feel alone and betrayed. And the first time it doesn't work but the second time, when the Hero actually does something that's a betrayal instead of just the Villain whispering in her ear about how the Hero doesn't care, it works.

And then they tell us all that was 'the Heroes tried to give her a chance, but she threw it away because she's just pure evil'.

And it doesn't fucking work.

It works slightly better with Lila, who was never shown to be sympathetic or have any 'good' reasons for being like she is. Where even when the villain manipulates her, she manipulates him right back. (though it's still wild that the 13/14 year old is more 'evil' than the grown ass adult.)

It works slightly better with /Felix/, who is shown to be sympathetic, but is also very much only being good because he fell for someone who is genuinely good and he's doing what she says. If Feligami break up and Felix says 'oh all that 'good' stuff I did? Fake because I wanted Kagami to like me!' I wouldn't question it because that's all we've been shown.

But it doesn't work with Chloé because we see her do good things without prompting, without wanting in return. Yes she's getting occasional encouragment from people she wants approval of, but it's not grand gestures. It's little things like apologizing to Bustier and giving her a gift, like protecting Sabrina, live volunteering herself for danger again and again because she can no longer sit by when she knows she can help.

[impawsiblecat]

100 Days of Deathduo

Day Nine- Reverse Phasmo Au Chapter 5/The final Chapter

Tw: Past character death

The final chapter! This is so exciting.

    The bottom half of the house is almost completely done. Pretty soon Clover will be able to work on the upstairs, will be able to put her own furniture and renovations in. While that does require her to visit the ghost, she doesn’t really think that will be a problem. After what happened last time, she has a feeling the ghost isn’t necessarily malicious. And they had looked so sadly at the music box, it was hard to view them as evil and harmful. Perhaps it was a naive way of thinking, but well, she just couldn’t.

    That didn’t mean that Clover was particularly excited to get to cleaning out their room, but well. It had to be done, eventually. At least she had a homemade walk in freezer, now. She was still gonna save that room for last. And invest in some hand warmers. And hope that the ghost wasn’t too much of a problem.

    What was an actual problem was the growing pile of papers and mementos. It would be resolved soon, hopefully. She had found an old address book, and had managed to get in contact with one of the previous people that had lived here. Clover was pretty sure it was the brother that had shown up in the pictures, and he had agreed to come and pick up the items. 

    Clover knows that theres a ton more he will probably want from upstairs, too, but the pile is just too big right now. And he mentioned he was only a few hours away, so it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle to get everything else to him later. 

    It’s always so strange when waiting for someone to come over, Clover thinks, as she sits on the stairs. She could clean a little more, but what if she gets engrossed in her work and forgets to listen for the doorbell? She scrolls on her phone instead, making sure to occasionally look outside the window.

    The man arrives shortly after, and sure enough, it is the brother from the pictures, except older, in his late twenties if she had to guess instead of a teenager. Clover smiles as she lets him in, and watches as he looks around the entranceway.

    “Hello, Clover, right? We talked on the phone.” The man says, and he continues looking around. “Oh, wow. I haven’t been here since, well, I guess you probably know by now, huh?” He says, smiling wryly at Clover.

    “Yeah, you would have thought the real estate agency would have mentioned it, but I had already bought the house by the time I found out, and it was cheap, and I had already imagined what I could do with the place. What can you do, you know?” Clover laughs, and then waves the man over to the neat piles she had made. “Uh, here’s the items that belong to you, I’ve tried to keep the ones that seemed important and sentimental, but there were a few that I threw away because time just got the better of them. I hope that is ok.” She says.

    The man nods, and starts to rift through the papers, the pictures and memories. “I never thought I would see any of these things again, thank you so much for doing this, I um…” he trails off, staring at a picture of him and his siblings. “I really appreciate it.” He says, sounding emotional.

    “Of course. It didn’t seem right to just throw them away. I don’t have anything that can carry it all, I don't think, but let me at least get a bag to make it easier to get to your car.” Clover says, leaving when she sees the man nod absently, lost in the memories he is sifting through. She grabs a trash bag from the laundry room she had been cleaning out, and brings it to the man.

    When she comes back, he is crying silently, and Clover freezes. She doesn’t know what to do with a crying stranger, so she sets the trash bag down next to him as subtly as she can and backs away. It doesn’t stop the man from noticing her, though, and he just wipes his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, I just haven’t seen many pictures since it happened, I almost had forgotten what she looked like.”

    Clover tenses up, because she has very clearly missed something. She wants to ask, but it is obviously a sore subject. It turns out, she doesn’t have to, as the man continues speaking anyways. “It was such a shock, when it happened, one day, she was there, and the next, she was not, and our parents deemed it too dangerous to stay here, because what if the same thing happened to my youngest sister too? I think it was partially because the memories here were too painful for them. We moved out the next day, barely had any time to get our stuff. I never thought I would see this place again.” The man says.

    Clover is reeling. Did the ghost do this? Did the ghost kill someone? They hadn’t killed Clover, though, hadn’t done anything to Clover except mess with her a bit. And yet, here is this man, devastated at the death of his sister. 

    “I’m sorry that happened to you.” Clover says sympathetically, not knowing what else to say. What else does one say, when a stranger is in your house crying?

    The man shrugs in response. “Thank you for saving all of this. It means a lot, remembering the good moments with her instead of only the sad ones. Ah, I should be the one sorry, unloading all of this onto a stranger.” He laughs wetly. “Hey, you haven’t seen a music box around, have you? It was her favorite.” He asks, and Clover tenses again, blinking at him.

    “It’s um. If I had to guess, it’s either upstairs or in the spirit world.” Clover says, and the man laughs in response. She doesn’t know how to tell him it isn’t a joke. At least it seems to have distracted him from his grief.

    “That’s fine, do you mind if I go look for it really quick? I would probably be able to find where it is, and it would be nice to see the rest of the house again.” The man says, and Clover doesn’t quite think that it’s the best idea to let him near the ghost that killed his sister, but she also doesn’t want to say no when its something that is obviously sentimental to him.

    “I um. I don’t think that is the best idea?” She says awkwardly. “But I guess if you really wanted to…” Clover says, gesturing towards the stairs. “Just be careful, I suppose.”

    The man tilts his head at her, and then starts to go up. “If I would guess, it is probably in her room, or the room attached to her room. She used to call it her secret hideout, but it was really just a glorified storage room our parents allowed her to make forts in.” The man says, and Clover can only feel dread as he goes toward the ghost room, which was apparently his dead sister’s room. She doesn’t want to interrupt his stories, though, and so he continues on into the room. The door to the storage room is open, and she can see things have been moved around.

    “You really should get a heater for this room, it’s always been one of the coldest in the house.” The man says, as he turns and looks around in the dresser in the room. And then Clover sees the ghost. Outside of the room, which she didn’t even know they could do. The man hasn’t noticed them yet, and Clover tries to gesture to the ghost to stop, to go bac. The man is continuing to ramble on about stories from the past.

    The ghost doesn’t listen to her. She doesn’t know why she expected them to. They are just standing there, silent, staring at the man, with wide eyes. Clover isn’t an expert in ghost facial expressions, but she can tell that something is wrong. They are looking at the man with the same expression as they looked at the music box.

    The man turns around then, presumably to ask Clover something, but he catches sight of the ghost and yells, scrambling backwards, and Clover winces. She remembers when that was her. The man looks terrified, and then confused as he stares at the ghost that is staring back. And then Clover, watches, bewildered, as his expression turns hopeful.

    “Icee?” He asks,  and Clover feels a shock go through her at the words. The ghost slowly, slowly nods, and the man reaches out to touch her shoulder. His hand passes right through and he shivers, looking disappointed. He turns to Clover. “This is real, right?” 

    All Clover can do is nod, and the man looks like he is about to start crying again. She leaves the room. This doesn’t seem to be a moment she should be a part of.

    Instead, Clover heads back downstairs, to the pile of pictures. She looks closer at the middle child. Now that she is looking, she doesn’t know how she didn’t pick up on it before. The ghost looks different from the person in the picture, of course, and they look younger in the picture, with skin that wasn’t frostbitten and brown hair instead of silver, but the eyes are the same shape, although the picture shows them as a vibrant purple instead of the the silvery gray Clover remembers of the ghost.

    She stays down there while the man converses with his dead sister upstairs, and she doesn’t say anything when he comes back down with red rimmed eyes. She simply helps him pack the rest of the photographs and load it into his car. On the way back from it, he speaks up for the first time since going upstairs. “Uh, if it’s not too much to ask, can I come visit them, sometime?” 

    Clover blinks in response. “I don’t see why not. I doubt they are going anywhere.” She says, and then pauses. “Um, by the way, what is your name? I forgot to ask it earlier, you were too busy looking through the photographs.” 

    The man laughs a bit before responding. “You can call me Slushee. And uh, my sister is Icee. Our parents thought it was funny.” He says. Then, he becomes somber once more. “Take care of them, ok?” Clover doesn’t have to ask who he is talking about. She just nods, and waves as he gets in his car and drives off.

    Clover goes up the creaky stairs and through the room into the storage area. “So. Icee, is it?”

    The breaker is off. Again. And Clover smiles as she goes upstairs, the stairs that she fixed a few weeks ago. They no longer squeak, and the wood shines with the sunlight streaming in the widows, which have new curtains. 

    She goes into a room that no one stays in, at least no one living, but she has decorated the bed with a new bedsheet and has put pictures on the walls. The frames may be new, but the memories shown are old and well loved, from what she can tell. Her breath freezes in here, and she lets out an involuntary shiver. That was a newer development, as the ghost occupying the house had moved when this one was cleaned up. Not that it is that clean now. Clover can see shoes thrown across the room. It's a way to keep in contact with the living world, from what she can tell, and she isn’t going to make Icee stop even if it means waking in the middle of the night from hearing a thump.

    Not that she could stop Icee if she tried.

    The music box is in the cabinet, and Clover very pointedly does not touch it. She has learned her mistake on that one, and it is obviously very sentimental to Icee. Clover walks through the room to the storage room, which has also been cleaned up. It has a pillow fort in it, and sometimes Clover will go in there and watch a movie or read a book, just relaxing. Oftentimes she feels a ghostly presence next to her. 

    A ghostly face pops up before she can get to the breaker arms held up and a terrifying expression on their face as they breath out cold air, and Clover pretends that she didn’t jump as she holds a hand to her heart and laughs. “Icee. Why would you do that.” She says to the ghost, who also laughs before disappearing again.

    The breaker is turned on once more, and Clover speaks again to the air around her. “Your dad called. He may come over tomorrow if that is alright with you.” She feels a cold puff of air on her wrist. Once, for yes. “Alright then. It’s settled. Are you up to watch a few episodes of atla?” There is another puff of air, and Clover smiles.

    “Alright. Let me just get my laptop.” She says. The air around her turns cold, a sure sign that her friend is here. The experience is definitely not one she would have expected to have, but it is the one she got, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lesbianbriars]

I legit had to write this out in my drafts because if I tried writing it all out in an ask it'd be like 10x more incoherent

I also read your sparchess fic recently and man. MAN. it absolutely gutted me like a fish, I could go off on a whole tangent but I think Tea did a good job at saying what I wanted to say so I’m just gonna focus on your version of Sparrow because HOOOHHH BOYYYYYY

(DISCLAIMER: I love the way you wrote him)

He is an asshole. I Love To Hate Him because like. he tells Duchess that she deserves better and after he fucking ruined her chance at getting a destiny that’s significantly better than her own, and what does he say when Duchess is rightfully pissed and calls him out on the fact he manipulated and betrayed her?

“You can’t just wait for things to fall into your lap, Duchess,” he snapped, and she was stunned — this was the first time he’d really used her name. “If you don’t want your destiny, you have to fucking make a new one. You can’t let Grimm drag you around on a string.”

My initial reaction to that: DUDE?? SHUT THE FUCK UP??? YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO DICTATE THAT FOR HER???????

Here’s the thing about his claim that she can just “make a new one [destiny]”. The Rebels are already doing struggling to do that. Like. Milton and all the other outside forces are making that really fucking hard, so for him to just be like “she doesn’t need to settle for being the Evil Queen, she can make herself her own destiny”, is just… frustratingly naive.

And also! He does not have the right to dictate what’s best for her!! Cool motive, still a dick fucking move!!

I hope that if you ever right a sequel, Duchess does make him pay. Like, yeah, we don’t know if Milton would’ve actually given her Raven’s destiny, but to quote Duchess herself- he knew what the stakes were for her. And he threw it away.

TLDR; RAAAAGHHHHHH 10/10 fic will read again

lmao thank you so much!!! i myself absolutely adore sparrow and found myself extremely confused by his motivations in the original book, so i decided to give him this sort of messed up morally gray motivation where he thinks he’s trying to help her but is like. completely off base and only ends up isolating her further. i thought it would be an interesting deviation from his relatively shallow motivations in canon to have a twist where he did genuinely care about her — he just fucked it up. i’m really glad you enjoyed what i did with him.

i do not at all plan to write a sequel — the open ending is part of what was fun to me about writing this fic, kind of leaving it with strings untied and feelings unresolved — but if i did i’m afraid i’d likely be much more sympathetic to sparrow than you’d prefer haha. i think it’s more complicated than him just being a bad guy, and i would want to kind of expand upon that.

regardless, thank you so much for sending me your thoughts 💓 any time someone reaches out to me like this it truly makes my day; it shows me that my art really does affect people, and that is really really special.

i appreciate you so much!!

[scalproie]

omg plz do 13, 16, and 25 for the violence ask meme on tekken FWKJFK sorry for so much im just interested to hear ur thoughts!!!

13. worst blorboficiation

Objectively, Lee is the "least evil" mishima and congrats to him for leaving (tho forcefully) that fucked up family and yeah his childhood sucked big time and I have to respect the hustle of him rebranding himself into the funny "excellent" flamboyant guy but GOD he somehow successfully tricked everybody into forgetting that he is also very not a good person. I KNOW we are starving for positive relationships in tekken but he is very much as egoistical and self-interested as the rest of his family, kazuya is his brother only by name only and lee not only doesnt care about him nor their father and he would happily throw him or both of them under the bus to get ahead LIKE HE IS DOING NOW BY WORKING WITH LARS AND JIN AGAINST KAZUYA. Lee could not have inherited raw power from heihachi so he got his manipulativeness, sketchyness and charisma, and lets not talk about how the devil gene is alienating both kaz and jin so there is no way lee could even keep up with that. But if he could I really doubt he would still be regarded as the meme man that he is now. I love lee but I feel like the only person that can see smth sinister lurking under the surface thats funny and approachable and even has friends. Thats not a negative btw I love that about lee but the overly kindness I see from people's interpretation of him sometimes take me out. Hes better, but hes still not good, yknow?

(as for mk im just slipping it there bc its fresh in my head, johnny cage holds the really heavy burden of being the only somewhat comical main character in a sea of dramatic people so he is doomed to be mischaracterized I think. Either hes treated TOO seriously and it feels... wrong in a way I cant explain OR he is subject to comical whorification. But thats just me hating fun I guess.)

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Heihachi has the worst fucking development in tekken 7 it genuinely makes me insane that some people would enjoy this botched attempt of sympathy toward him, all while making fun of his original reasonning like "haha lions dont push their cubs off cliffs" WE KNOW its a traditional asian misconception that even has a name and it makes sense bc heihachi is old school but also ITS NOOOT ABOUT THE LITERAL LION THING ITS A METAPHOR ITS ABOUT GENERATIONAL TRAUMA AND TOXIC MASCULINITY GNGNHGNH and its BETTER than a hypothetical witch trial that makes NO SENSE bc HEIHACHI YOU THREW THE KID SAYING THAT IF HE SURVIVED, HE HAD THE EVIL IN HIM. AND THEN YOU RAISED HIM??? WHAT??? Its stupid. I hope he stays dead goodbye forever funny cockroach grandpa.

(mk break again but you genuinely have to explain 80% of the mk ships to me. Maybe its me being idk, a shipping paladin or smth and took an oath to the One True Pairing or whatever and im now blind to the rest but yeah I dont see the majority of it.)

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

EVERYONE SPEAKING THEIR OWN LANGUAGE AND EVERYBODY UNDERSTANDING EACH OTHER DESPITE THAT IS ONE OF THE BEST THING ABOUT TEKKEN. FUCK YOU IF YOU WANT AN ALL JAPANESE OR ENGLISH DUB. ITS ORIGINAL ITS INTERESTING ITS GOOD TO HAVE CHARACTERS SPEAKING ACTUAL FRENCH, SPANISH, PORTUGESE, KOREAN AND OTHER IN A MAINSTREAM VIDEOGAME. FUCK YOU FOREVER IF YOU WANT TO TAKE THAT AWAY OR IF ITS "WEIRD" TO YOU BC ITS NOT REALISTIC, BORING BITCH.

ALSO "NOBODY CARES ABOUT THE PLOT" I DO!!! I DOOO!!! IM NOT GONNA LOWER MY STANDARDS FOR THEM TO MAKE A GOOD SATISFYING STORY JUST BC YOU CARE MORE ABOUT EVO TOURNAMENTS, MICROFRAME DATA, AND IF YOUR WAIFU MAKE IT BACK IN THE MAIN ROSTER.

[booasaur]

Warrior season 3 finale spoilers

* * * * * * * * * * *

DICKLAND IS DEAD

AH TOY AND NELLIE GOT THEIR REVENGE

BILL YOU DIDNT SEE SHIT OK

Ah Toy and Nellie confronting Dickland was soooo satisfying and sexy to watch! He kept underestimating them, taunting and playing mind games. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Wish Nellie could’ve done more with her shotgun but I love how they supported each other! Then Bill and Leary had to show up at the wrong time. They burned his body so hopefully Bill will make something up to close the case quickly.

Sadly, revenge didn’t make Ah Toy feel better. It didn’t bring Lai and the other girls back. She’s just so fucking TIRED of all this shit! There will always be more evil men like Dickland in the world. At least Nellie was there to comfort her(again) and their bond seem even stronger now. A very bittersweet ending and I hope there will be a season 4.

Yeah, that was awesome to see Ah Toy show up behind Nellie and get him. I didn't mind that Nellie didn't use her shotgun on him since I was kind of shocked she used it on Bill, several times, even if just to scare. And he shot after her in turn!

I think if there is a next season, we'll find out then if Bill recognized them, since Leary definitely didn't. I'm not sure what would happen even if he did, since the body is destroyed.

Yeah, definitely killing him didn't make Ah Toy better, but I think at least now she's in a place where she can be open about what she can't control and how much she's hurting. She'd backed away from it before and was just going through the motions, hopefully she's actually in a place from which she can heal now.

As for the rest of the ep, I really hope Chao's still alive, and I'm actually so glad Ah Sahm and Mai Ling are together again. I hope they take Chinatown by storm next season! The most formidable fighter and tactician, on one side now. Also, that fight with Ah Sahm and the Hop Wei was amazing, including that little one-inch punch they threw in.

Really hoping we do get another season to close things, but in a way, I'm also okay with where things are now, the two sets of people who I wanted to be together are.