#aka smoke sucks (he doesn't)

[novicedraws]

call this a 2.0 to my other hug drawing that everyone seems to like? lmao.

Bonus:

[innocent-artery]

Kinktober 5th: Goldmine

aka hair pulling with Rodrick Heffley

2k words

Summary: Rod learns something new.

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

~

"Y'think I should get a leather jacket?"

Your shoulders shook under the weight of Rodrick's arm as you chuckled. "Why, you get an idea for a costume?"

"Absolutely. Even got the name for it." You could see the familiar smirk he wore even as your eyes remained on the screen. Smoke billowed in your peripheral, the smell of his near-finished cigarette long since clung to your clothes.

"It'd be a cute couples costume too," he continued, "you could be Tina Gray."

You turned to look at him. "Oh could I now?"

"Yup." He grinned as he put his cigarette out. "You've got the bedroom personality for it too."

You swung a pillow at his face, but Rodrick easily caught it and tossed it behind him. You huffed in false annoyance, falling back into your spot curled up under his arm.

His hand fell absentmindedly to your hair, gently twirling strands around his finger. The sensation makes your eyelids heavy, getting sleepy as he continued to soothe you.

Until you felt a sharp tug. Your eyes flew open, and you audibly gasped. Your entire body froze, and you curse yourself when Rodrick turns his head. A soft "oh?" leaves his lips, which are curled up into a curious smile. It had only been playful tug, but that was before he knew you'd react like that.

"That's not how you do it," you breathe, ghost of a grin teasing your lips.

"Yeah?" His voice was a condescending lilt. "How d'you do it?"

Instead of speaking, you take hold of his wrist, pushing it towards the back of your head. His fingers thread into your roots and he takes a fistful, tugging slowly. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in a deep sigh.

Before your eyes close, you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend's reaction. His eyes are wide and full of amusement, and he's smirking incredulously. His brows raise, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

"That's interesting," Rodrick mumbled, almost more to himself. "I wonder..."

He climbs up over you, legs caging in on either side of your hips. His foot kicks the TV remote onto the floor but Elm Street is long forgotten. His hold on your hair returns, the tingling in your scalp pulling a weak noise from your throat.

"Now, what would happen..." Rodrick's thought trails off as his fingers ghost over your throat, touch only featherlight until the pads of his fingers find your pulse points and press. Your breathing is shaky and your vision begins to blur, but your hands still fly to his shoulders. You might have even been a little embarrassed at how your hooded eyes began to cross if not for the fact that it just felt so good.

"Aw, y'like that?" Rodrick lilts, his face pulling closer to yours. Heat creeps up your neck.

"Y-yeah," you attempt to nod, but you aren't given much room for movement.

"I like that too, baby." He murmurs against your mouth before he kisses you slowly, tasting of nicotine and gum. They were gentle, teasing kisses, but quickly gave way to a more desperate rhythm as his tongue glided over your lower lip. He hummed a deep note when you let him in, when you whimpered as he started sucking on your tongue.

You let out a disappointed noise when Rodrick lets go of you, rolling back to sit but it's forgotten when he pats his thigh. You quickly oblige, skin heated and brain frazzled.

As soon as you're sat on his leg, the friction to your clit has you gasping into his mouth. Almost involuntarily, your hips began to roll against him, so slowly but enough to make your head swim and heat boil in your gut.

"Oh, sweetness," Rodrick murmurs in between kisses, "so needy already? I've barely done anything."

He knows he doesn't need to do much. Just a few words- or a tug of the hair- and you'd be turned into a pile of mush. He knows you too well, and he loves having that effect over you.

Even though he's teasing you, you can't be bothered to care, muttering an mhm and rutting your hips faster. Your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, then trail to his thigh to ground yourself.

"Atta girl, keep goin'." Rodrick murmurs in your ear, licking a stripe down the shell of it, planting soft kisses wherever his lips wandered. "'M right here baby, that's it, yeah, good girl."

Rodrick's encouragement was sweet honey to your ear, and a sickening contrast to the hand that hand re-found purchase at your scalp, tilting your head back so that he could teethe at your neck, soft plucks of skin turning into bruising. Deft hands made work of your top, leaving your chest bare.

Your rutting became increasingly frustrated; your thighs burned and you weren't getting any closer to your high.

"Rod... need..." your words were mumbled and breathless, and your brain was too cloudy to be fully coherent anyway.

"Hm? Couldn't hear you, bunny, say that one more time?"

"Need more," you cried, hands pushing into Rodrick's hair when his tongue laved over your nipple.

"More what, baby?" He lilted, cupping and pinching your other tit lovingly. He groaned when your fingers clutched his hair tighter.

"Need you, Rod please..." you sighed, tugging at his wrist.

Rodrick chuckled. "Baby, I don't think I can do that. Might hurt you if I don't get you nice and prepped, yeah? How about we start with fingers?"

"Anything, please," you babbled, nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder.

"Alright, alright, I got ya. Let's get these off, hm?" He tugged at the belt loop of your pants. They were off in record time, along with your underwear, leaving your entire body bared to him. You felt naked, more than just literally.

Once you were situated on his lap again you tried pulling on the hem of his shirt. "Off," you mumbled. Happily he complied, and you took the opportunity to lean forward and plant loving kisses to his neck, his collarbone.

You didn't realize when you'd risen up off your behind that it gave Rodrick the space to slip a hand between your legs, pulling a squeak out of you, muffled against his jaw.

"Aw, so messy baby. A little hair pulling did all this?"

You knew that it was a few other things, but you were so far gone you gave him a whiny 'yeah' anyway. Rodrick's fingers massaged your entrance, gathering slick and smothering it around your clit, making obscene noises- probably on purpose.

"So fuckin' wet, sweet, y'hear that?" Rodrick presses kisses to your pulse point, up to your jaw, then kisses you deep. Swallowing your moans into his mouth as the kiss turns messy.

"Please, Rod..." you're breathless and your pleas are barely coherent, but Rodrick knows exactly what you're asking for. You keel when you feel a finger glide into you, curling up towards your stomach.

"Yeah, good fuckin' girl." Rodrick's grin widens at your reaction when a second finger joins the first. "Always so eager, hm? That's my girl."

"Yeah, 'm your girl," you pant, hips canting to meet his hand.

"That's right," he coos, thumb tracing wide circles over your clit. "So proud of you, my girl."

"Rod," you whine, "need you."

"Hm?" He hums between nips to your collarbone. "You have me."

You shake your head vigorously. "Need you inside."

This gets Rodrick's attention. His fingers slow, while his free hand moves from your hair to his pants. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock out from his boxers. You watch as he takes his fingers, soaked from your cunt, and wrap them around himself, stroking slowly. His head falls back against the couch, lips hanging open and you feel the sudden urge to bite them.

Before you get the chance, however, Rodrick is pulling you forward, lining himself up to take you. Slowly, so slowly, he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick around. You jerk when his head catches on your clit, sending electricity shooting up your spine.

"Rod..." you whine against his neck, "please."

"Please what?" You want to slap him for the knowing glint in his eye, but that was for another day.

"Please fuck me."

And who was he to deny you? Guiding your hip, Rodrick eased you down on him, guiding you but letting you set your own pace. The stretch set your loins on fire, but it was heaven.

Your head kicked back, and you let your voice have a mind of its own as you sunk down on him. Long and pornographic, and Rodrick matched it. You felt him throb inside of you.

"Fuck, sound so pretty." Rodrick started rolling his hips into you, and you cried out at the sensation. "Yeah, that's it. Moan like a fuckin' whore for me, c'mon."

And who were you to deny him? You had the house to yourself, and the name alone sent your brain into overdrive. He filled you up so nicely, and the drag of his cock inside of you made your skin tingle with delight.

"Rod, yeah, oh- just like that, ohmygod-" your voice was caught in your throat when Rodrick, with the usual knowing twinkle in his eye, takes a fistful of hair and tugs you forward into a sloppy kiss.

All of the sensations- that Rodrick was giving you- were sending you closer and closer to tumbling headfirst off of that ledge. The sting in your scalp, his tongue sliding against yours, the sounds of wet slaps and your combined moans. The smell of cigarettes and the heat of his skin under your fingers. The head of his cock piledriving into your cervix again and again and again.

"Rod I- oh god, I'm gonna- oh, so close- Rod please," you pant into his mouth, fingers raking down his chest and leaving faint red lines in their wake.

"I gotcha," he grunts, hand snaking between your bodies to press circles over your clit. You can hear it in his voice that he's holding back. You don't want him to. "That's it, baby, come for me. Make a mess on my cock, c'mon."

That extra pleasure is all it takes to have you diving headfirst into a mind-numbing orgasm. Your eyes screw shut, and all you can feel is Rodrick. Shaky hands rest on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as hot pleasure courses through you.

You're acutely aware of the hot spurts hitting your cervix, and the fluids seeping out of you, but your body is still tingling all over. Your voice has long since become scratchy, but that doesn't stop you from whimpering and crying as he coaxes you through it.

"Good girl, did so good for me, yeah?" His grip on your hair is no longer a grip, but gentle, soothing strokes, almost as if to apologize.

You hummed, dropping your forehead against his shoulder as you breathe. The smell of sex had permeated the air around you, and you were suddenly very aware of how sweaty you'd become.

"Think we need a shower, baby, c'mon." Rodrick nudged your head.

You wanted to, you felt sticky, but your body was on fire, this time with a less-than-pleasurable ache. Begrudgingly, you lifted yourself off of his now soft dick, hobbling down to reach for your clothes and then to the nearest bathroom.

The shower was peaceful, and the water was soothing on your muscles. You both worked in a comfortable silence.

"Well, I was right." Rodrick finally said.

"About what, the hair pulling?"

"Nope."

You turned around to face him, head tilted in confusion. His mouth was curled upwards and his eyes were lifted in a smile.

"You do have the bedroom personality of Tina Gray."

.

[seraphmeraph]

brr vrr ba dap bop pa

How they'd be with a virgin reader - Headcanons Part 1

MK1 NSFW headcanons with Lin Kuei brothers aka Tomas Vrbada, Kuai Liang, Bi Han, and as a bonus Syzoth.

TW: oral sex, fingering, conventional sex, bit of possessiveness, gn but hints of afab, first time

A/N: working on requests mb for taking so long I'm just lazy. I'll do more headcanons of this with other mk1 characters soon so this is part 1

Tomas Vrbada • Smoke

Tomas has minimal experience but'll try his best to act experienced. He will constantly ask if you're okay or need to pause, and he keeps asking if he's doing good.

He gives so much foreplay; as you're doing it, he'll be admiringly gentle.

Tomas laid your back against the bed, your legs propped on his shoulders. He peppered kisses throughout your body. "Are you ready?" He asks in a gentle tone, his face showing his nervousness.

You nodded, ready for him to take your virginity.

One of his hands rested on your knee while the other guided his dick to your warmth. You both moaned unanimously as your heat wrapped around him.

He let you adjust to his size, waiting just a moment so he doesn't hurt you. "Tell me when to move, okay?" He spoke.

He began as soon as he gave you the okay, moving with slow, coordinated thrusts, letting your legs fall off his shoulder as he leaned closer to you, trapping you between his arms. "You feel so good, princess," He whimpered into your ear.

He was desperate to make you feel good, putting you above himself. "Doing so well for me," He spoke, pulling you into a kiss.

Kuai Liang • Scorpion

Like Tomas, Kuai Liang will be admirably gentle, ensuring you're always satisfied.

He'll give excellent foreplay, not as much as Tomas, but still a lot nonetheless. For your first time, he wants to make everything memorable, dimming the lights and prepping the bed.

He'll praise you so much, you'll never not feel loved by this man. Even if there's nothing to praise, he will find something.

After eating you out, Kuai Liang retracted his head, letting you come down from your high. He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you towards him, making you lay your head against the pillows.

He could sense your nervousness and kissed your lips softly. "There's no need to be nervous, sunflower. I promise you'll feel good," He whispered against your lips, kissing you once more. He trailed his head to your breast, kissing around your nipple.

"Do you want me to continue?" He asked, pulling back to look at you. He cupped your cheek.

You nodded eagerly, wanting to lose your virginity to him. He couldn't help but smile. Without losing another minute, he led his dick to your heat, slowly pushing inside you.

He let out a low moan, thrusting into you slowly. "Good girl, taking me so well," He spoke, his hands gripping your thighs tightly.

Bi Han • Sub Zero

He felt possessive when you first told him you were a virgin. He felt like it was a way to claim you as entirely his.

He's rough and demanding, yet still gentle, not wanting to be the reason you're hurt. Will literally edge you for hours before taking you.

"Tell me how badly you want me?" He teased, his fingers remaining inside you, yet he's not moving them. You whine out his name, begging for him to take you, and when he finally has his fill of teasing you, he'll let you come.

Bi Han would stick his fingers in your mouth, watching as you sucked them clean.

He'll have you in missionary for your first time simply because he wants to see how much pleasure he's giving you.

After letting you come down from your orgasm, he'll wait until you give him the okay to stick it in. Slowly, he'll let you get used to his girth, wanting to be the last person who'd ever hurt you. Once he thought you were okay, he began slow, coordinated thrusts, eventually turning rougher.

"You're mine, mine to take," He growled, slamming into you with no regard anymore.

Syzoth • Reptile

When Syzoth found out you were a virgin and you were allowing him to take you, he kept you in bed for days, showing you what you were missing.

He would spend way too much time kissing you and worshipping your body, whispering how sweet you taste and how he can't wait to feel your insides.

Syzoth is absolutely a switch, so for your first time, he would definitely have you top him, cowgirl style.

As you sink down onto his dick, he'll let out a hiss, feeling your warmth wrapped around his cock. One of his hands would go to hold your hand while the other rests on your hips. He'd thrust up a few times, getting desperate already seeing you on top.

"Mmph-" He bit his lip to contain his moans. "So perfect," He whimpered, admiring your body, how your heat just perfectly took him.

[zomb-rabbit]

Toby x reader, INTENSE smoke session.

/hj

- Sun

YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THAT'S WHAT IM TALKIN ABOUTTTTTTT (i kept the nsfw stuff separate for u dwdw)

CW ; drug mentions and use in this bad boyyyy

[ NSFW ] 🪓 Toby Rogers x gn!reader having a smoke sesh sfw + nsfw headcanons

SFW:

he is SUCCHHHHHHH a giggly guy when he's high

he has so much energy built up that he tries to keep under control during the day, when he's high and his anxiety and tics aren't as prevalent it makes it much easier for that extra energy to slip out in lil giggle fits at either absolutely nothing, or you doing something as little as dropping something you were trying to pick up

bros a cutie patootie

the one (1) time he will willingly actually lock tf in and stay completely still is when he's watching one of those 3 hour video essays

eats them up

if you're one of those people that gets antsy and needs to be doing something, he'll just kinda watch you all wide eyed

think how a dog looks at you while it watches you cook and is waiting for a treat

no matter if y'all's relationship is platonic or romantic, he is a snuggle bug when he gets sleepy

he doesn't mean to !!! you guys are just both on the couch and this movie is kinda tiring him out and ohhhhh noooooo his head is in ur lap whatever will he dooooo

hes just a clingy cutie patootie i love him so bad

NSFW:

NEEEDYYYY

he's so desperate for you and with his anxiety being more tame he is MUCH more likely to just let his thoughts loose

sit on his lap and kiss along his jawline, let his hands softly kneed at your hips while he tells you alll his thoughts about what he wants to do to you

he'll toss his head on your shoulder, tied between embarrassment and need for you as he pants and tries to grind his hips onto yours, his brain foggy while he whines out pathetic pleas for you

"j's lemme touch you,, look ss-so pretty, s'good babes,," with him lazily kissing at any part of you he can reach

loves when you ride him because it means he gets to watch himself disappear inside you, accidentally leaving little crescents on your thighs where he's been grabbing at you

he gets a lot louder- much more open to full blown moaning over his usual whimpering

aka PRIME time to suck him off

will play with your hair if you do- for as long as he can ofc, poor thing gets overwhelmed easy when he watches how pretty and desperate you look trying to make him feel good

[unfortunately-obsessed]

My Love Will Never Die

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader. Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, burnout, established relationship. Title based off a Hozier's song. Ao3 link.

Summary:

« You've done me wrong for a long, long time. But after all you've done, I never changed my mind. »

Behind you, you wonder if the chauffer it is still there, standing. You know he is, the manners making him wait until you enter the house to only then pull the car to the garage. Watching you frozen in place, bag lazily held in a hand, umbrella in another. Hair disheveled, clothes unruly. You wonder if you look pathetic on his eyes, just as much as you feel currently.

The truth is: you are utterly destroyed.

Not only mentally. Your muscles ache, pain spiking up on your lower back worse than any damage a sharpened knife could cause. Feet so thoroughly hurt by heels they're numb, if not for the casual sharp sting.

It is Gotham. The sky is grey, the city sucks up you out of life each passing moment.

Rain splatters against your umbrella. You stand just before the front door of Wayne Manor, mindlessly fidgeting with the wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.

One year. You've been married with Bruce Wayne for one year already? Doesn't feel like it.

Time flew before your eyes, the start of it all just below your eyelids. Every first so toothachingly sweet, burned into your brain. Press nails against skin until it sharpens.

Behind you, you wonder if the chauffer it is still there, standing. You know he is, the manners making him wait until you enter the house to only then pull the car to the garage. Watching you frozen in place, bag lazily held in a hand, umbrella in another. Hair disheveled, clothes unruly.

You wonder if you look pathetic on his eyes, just as much as you feel currently.

Not worthy of the surname Wayne, to be called “lady of the house”.

Time is a cruel kind of lesson.

"Ms. Wayne." Alfred's voice, invariably courteous, calls. You almost wince at the door opening. He stands before you, maybe a little unnerved by your state, but if it's displeasure or worry on his face, you can't tell.

He masks terrifically well. You're always alarmed by this.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

At that, you do wince.

"Yes, Alfred." Your brain haven't even processed his presence yet when you walk past him. He takes your coat and bag. "Just got lost in thoughts for a moment."

"Pondering the mysteries of our universe at the front step?" Ah, you do love the edge of sass in his voice. You meet his eyes, a shy-like (unlike you) smile cursing your face. "Shall I fetch for tea? Supper will be served in one hour's time."

Some months ago, you might have looked forward for it. If Bruce couldn't welcome you after work, he at least would make sure to eat dinner with you.

Deep in your stomach, rot. You swallow dry.

"No, thanks," you say, taking a deep breath. Desperately– desperately talking through the knot in your throat. "I just want to hit the showers and sleep," you say, all sincerity.

You smile politely. He doesn't pushes you.

It is easy to backslide. To make oneself likeable, less volatile, more agreeable. Until you can earn love and care.

(Oh. It's getting bad again.)

"And Bruce?" You ask halfway through up the stairs, despite yourself. My love for you is bigger than words. I search for you everywhere.

The silence that hangs would be enough of an answer. Alfred is merciful, though. "Still working, ma'am."

Isn't it painful? Loving someone just from outside their life?

Wayne Manor is a haunted house. Constantly burning, touching the skies with horrible black smoke. Sculpted coffered ceilings, furniture of expensive dark wood. Bristol, yet you can see the city and all its skyscrapers by the right window.

Wayne Manor, aka Bruce Wayne's first grave.

Every corner, a memory.

"Of course," you mutter to yourself, emotion pooling in the eyes.

Love is about the failure of language, so you fall silent and disappear into the halls.

~*~*~

The sheets are clean like you know they would be.

Heels are the first to go. You kick them off, grumbling in satisfaction. Earrings next, then lipstick messily scrubbed off in any sheet of paper.

Hairpin and belt lost to the ground. Bra? Disappeared.

Yet, despite being absolutely exhausted, you stop just before the bed. Ice at the nape of your neck like a garrote, a promise. Knot in your throat to hang on.

King-sized, silk sheets, cloud soft. Each breath is a stutter of a muscle, the blood running in your veins a statement that you are, in fact, alive.

Isn't it such a lousy fear? The fear to sleep and have yet another nightmare. Oh, to be worn out mind and body and still unable to touch a bed.

The sheets are clean, white-pure. Sours you mouth.

Messy and childish fear. To see the future, where he dies by your feet using the damned cowl. Feats unnamed, life unhonoured.

Death smiles to Batman.

(Ah, Bruce. I would break my own fingers for you. Tear the tongue out of my mouth.

But there are limits.)

You can't even remember half those nightmares. Hands shaking, clattered flesh, de-boned corpses–

You don't want to ruin the sheets. You don't want to ruin your life.

~*~*~

It might be 5am.

He nuzzles against your neck, breath hot and exhausted, chest to your back. Skin painted with purple and red, scar-tissue mapping constellations, saying eat.

Eat you do. Bite one step removed, soft-mouthed kissing blue veins and rough hands. Until you lips become raw and numb.

His weight sinks the mattress, acting like a gravitational pull. Bruce's body, which furnaces can't compare, protectively embraces you.

He's so warm. It's 5am and you both are lying together, legs intertwined, his face buried on your shoulder. You listen to his breathing, slow and controlled, in the comforting quiet of unrealized-hours.

I wish the past had been kinder on you. How the world is cruel and how you refuse to be.

Soft sunlight hums through the damasked curtains, birds start to sing. You are wide awake, and he is too.

You'd seen him die down in your mind, every night. He lives your nightmares, putting on the suit. You're not bound to him by fate, not a soulmate, with no divine intervention; hallowed by gums aching and reverence– that is to say: the door is open, you can walk away.

Because one day, he won't come back.

You know it. He knows it. He has the arrangements prepared for the occasion.

And nowadays, he can't afford to leave the cave if not for going downtown.

The life of a hero is very unthankful.

"Do you hate me?" he asks you, voice rough to be an knife's edge. It's been long enough since you last felt him this close, low in your ear.

Bruce assures you through touch. Calloused thumb rubbing your wrist. Affections ebbs in his palms, love even. A work in progress.

In all your inner turmoil, you can see yourself getting quite tired of it all. The late nights crawling up walls, knowing he won't come back until morning– the stitching of wounds, his blood in the Persian rugs– but to imagine oneself as his enemy? As in, hating him?

"No," you murmur in a steady heartbeat. A detour cross your mind, of eustress: he gets tired too. And, then you say for good measure, "Never."

People don't really think how tiring tragic the life of a hero is. But there's this exhilarating moment where all that exists is Bruce's breath in your skin.

"Do you love me?" he asks because he can't take any chances. Oh, you can bet a kid that grew up traumatized will need reassurance. Constant, gentle reassurance.

White stripes of scars in his knuckles and forearms below your fingertips, drawing into your memory again and again.

The truth is: you are utterly destroyed.

Not only physically. But he tugs with your heartstrings everyday, bruised like he'd been squeezing it. The more it lingers more you realize you've been packing up emotions for weeks, now.

"What a silly thing to ask," you say. Not an answer. Neither are breathing for a second, there. You teeth clatter like a damn trying to bust.

Ah! There's a lot of messed up stuff happening all the time. You coil in yourself, perhaps considering. Bruce's touch shudders.

And there is something to realize. You'd rather die drowning for love than in thirst of it. Repeat to yourself, to him, I will never leave you. In healthiness and sickness–

"On purpose. Always–"

Love, who is brutal, who is stored in the viscera–

"–I love you."

A/N: If you like what I do, please consider supporting me and buying a coffee!

[janicekao]

No, Fuck You!

Pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of season one of the series "The Bear." Carmen Berzatto, a culinary expert has to put his career on hold after his brother Michael's su1c1de being that Michael left the family's restaurant in Carmy's name. The restaurant is busted, in debt, and the staff is hardheaded. Carmy's "cousin" Richie is especially hardheaded. He's 45, doesn't like change in the restaurant, dabbles in illegal side hustles, thinks he's Italian, acts ghetto af, his attitude sucks, he's always cussing, and he is just a lot to deal with it. My addition to the story is an OC young lady who is hired at the restaurant to help with the finances and how badly her And Richie bump heads... until of course, they don't! Warnings: age gap, profanity, vi0lence, smut, fan fiction, public s3x,cr3am pi3, office siren aesthetic, submissive male, toxic, bwwm, fanfic, the bear, quickie, etc. 4038 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 ------------------------------

It's a chilly winter morning in Chicago, and instead of sleeping in snuggly in his warm bed, Richie Jerimovich pulls into his job smoking an early morning ciggie with his suspended license in the pocket of his jeans.

Having trouble sleeping at night pure usual, Richie decides to pop into his job at a restaurant called The Beef two hours early before opening... Before there is even daylight. Although he yawns, he'd rather work instead of staring up at his bedroom ceiling thinking about how his wife is divorcing him, his daughter is growing up without her dad, and how he hardly has enough money to make his own rent next week... Richie enters through the back door of the restaurant and takes off his favorite leather jacket as he places it in his locker.

He grabs his uniform, a white apron and his favorite Tshirt with "The Beef" plastered across the right corner of the fabric.

Staring into the tiny and incredibly dirty locker sized mirror, he takes his gold chain from the inside of his shirt and dangles it on the outside of it. He smooths down his uncombed hair and prickly beard as he begins to chuckle cockily at his reflection. "You suave motherfucker you."

As Richie closes the door of his locker, he nearly jumps out of his skin... Spooked suddenly by the new girl who quietly stands behind his locker.

"Fucking hell!" He complains. "Lexie? Do I need to put a fucking bell on you or something? Don't ever sneak up on me! Make yourself known when you walk into a building!"

"Or what?" She instigates. "You'll pop me with that stupid fucking gun you lug around the restaurant with?"

"Yeah, maybe!" He scoffs. "Maybe I fucking will! And before you start, don't give me shit about the fact that I carry heat on me! If you were smart, you'd care a little pussy-pink magnum in your purse... walking around Chicago like you're untouchable, are you fucking insane?"

Lexie rolls her eyes.

"All I'm saying is make yourself known when you walk in here." He continues. "You got me?"

Lexie widens her stance as if Richie who is nearly a foot taller than her couldn't bench press her weight if he felt like it. "No, fuck you! You are the one who should make yourself known... I've been here long before you have."

He becomes even more short-tempered... "Sweetie, I've been here before you were even born!"

"I am speaking of this morning!" Lexie continues. "I thought you were some hobo breaking in through the back... But, it seems that I wasn't too far off."

"Fuck you. Why are you even here?" Richie wouldn't be Richie without furthering an argument. "You can't count the receipts up during your shift?! O-Or complete the payroll from your own fucking house!?"

Lexie's fists tighten. "If it were up to me, your greasy ass wouldn't even be on the payroll."

Richie chuckles... a laugh that fills Lexie with rage. "Well good thing it isn't up to you!"

"Now sign my check and hand it here." He grabs at her arm full of paperwork.

"Not until Friday!" Gritting her teeth, Lexie snatches away with all of her might. "If you're so broke, try being more charming to the customers and maybe you could take home some nice tips at night!"

She continues. "—BUT! Welcoming a customer inside by calling him 'the man with the golden dick' will get you nothing! I mean, seriously Richie?!

Richie had no idea Lexie pays so much attention to how he speaks to his regulars everyday... He feels that the people of Chicago love his charm and personality... Hell!— Arrogantly, he even believes that they come to The Beef just to see him!

Richie becomes offended. "Okay, first off— fuck you, and secondly— that's the best compliment a man could ever get!"

Lexie rolls her eyes once more before she turns to leave him.

—But, Richie just doesn't know how to quit. "Listen princess you're not here to teach us etiquette okay!? I seriously don't get why they hired you, Carmy's sister Sugar does all the paperwork here anyways!"

Lexie turns around, coming back to the argument as she reddens and continues to shout. "Because Sugar has a full time job and a husband, Richie! She can't spend all her time in this dump going through paperwork full of dust mites!"

"Fine, then why are you here at 4am?" Richie folds his arms, leaning against the lockers to stop Lexie from walking away. "I can't believe they gave you a fucking key."

"The feeling's mutual." Lexie nudges his forehead with her fingertips. "Giving you a key is as responsible as handing it to a bum on the metro. Now get out of my way!"

"You don't need to get nasty young lady." Richie's jaw clenches. He becomes terribly annoyed that the new girl can actually keep up with his banter— and the fact that she might just be better at it. "Take it back."

Lexie grins sarcastically. "Fuck you."

He flips her off. Using his fingertips under his chin, his favorite gesture when he's already said 'fuck you' enough.

She rolls her eyes. "As if I don't see you do that a thousand times a day. Grow up Richie! You're such a fucking child."

Wanting to leave the locker room, Lexie can't help but become curious as well.

"My turn." She insists, placing her items in an opened locker. "Now, why are you here?"

...

Richie gulps... He rather not talk about the stress of his life with a girl he swears is the worst investment the restaurant has ever made...

He came to work to clear his head, not to express to some chick that he feels like a forty-five year old deadbeat with no purpose in life.

"I dunno— checking... supplies and shit." He lies.

"No..." Lexie doesn't buy it. "I am here checking supplies for a list of our expenses and doing some budgeting—"

"BUDGETING!?" Richie explodes on his last straw. "Okay fuck this, you twenty-something-year olds have already changed the budget ten times!!! How much more money do we need to save!? The restaurant has already cut out so many classic dishes from the menu and now you're gonna cut back more!?"

"Yes! And if you're so concerned about how much money we bring in, try selling more sandwiches instead of eating them all fucking day!" Lexie blinks her long lashes sarcastically, making Richie fume even more and lose all of his patience.

"Damn it! I've had it with you!" Standing over Lexie, Richie begins to threaten her with a strong finger point into her face. "I have tried to be a gentleman, but you've taken me up to here!" He hovers his hand high above his head, expressing that her attitude has got him through the fucking roof.

"First of all..." Richie continues as he immaturely picks at her looks. "—You look fucking ridiculous! Coming into The Beef looking like a fucking principal in a tight fucking pencil skirt! Put on a Tshirt, and get elbow deep in some fucking grease! That's what we need! Not some Mary Poppins-fucking-secretary!"

"It's called business casual." She chuckles. "And as if we need some forty-five year old washup who leaves cigarettes everywhere, and smokes a pack a day!"

"You can't cook, you can't clean, and money comes up short every time you work the registers!"

"Fuck you, liar!" Becoming so unbelievably heated, strained veins of tension stands out of his neck each time he shouts. "I'd never mooch from this place! This place is my home, my family!"

"No?" She tilts her head in curiosity. "Well, what about you selling coke out of the back alley too! What would you call that!?"

"LABOR AND INVESTMENT." He shouts. "I'm making ends meet for this shit-hole because someone has to do it when the money gets fucking low! Tell me sweetheart, how the fuck do you think this place survived during Covid??? ME!"

...

Richie begins to insult her under his breath. "Maybe if your brains were half as big as your fat ass you'd understand better."

"EXCUSE ME!?" Lexie loses her calm.

For a moment there, she was able to keep up with Richie's attitude in a professional manner... However now, her fist down his throat would look pretty good to her.

Richie doesn't repeat himself...

"No! Fucking go ahead!" Lexie argues and begins to push against him, antagonizing a coming fight and nudging him for more. "You want to talk shit, then let's talk shit!"

"What are you doing? Now you wanna fucking fight me tough guy?" Richie rolls his eyes. "Listen, you're pressing your tits on me, you need to back off before we have a problem"

"YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!" Lexie lets out her true feelings of hatred towards him. "Do you know how smoothly this restaurant could run without you constantly aggravating someone!? You stress Carmy out every fucking day! I don't understand why he doesn't just fucking fire you already!"

She continues. "Name one day Richie, ONE DAY that you haven't aggravated someone over their limits with your constant bullshit?"

He scoffs. "It's because you fucking Chicago-gentrifying-fucking-millennials are pussies!!! No backbone!! Upset over everything. You, Carmy, and Sydney!"

"For someone who isn't good at shit, you sure are good at pissing people off!" Lexie continues to bark. "For Christ sake! Sydney stabbed you the other day in your ass for being such a prick!"

Embarrassed with his known behavior, Richie refuses to meet Lexie in her dagger like dark brown eyes.

"Syd said it was an accident..."His voice becomes meek like a baby.

"I wouldn't blame her if it wasn't!" Lexie shouts.

So used to being the one who annoys everyone else, Richie gets a taste of his own medicine as he continues to be annoyed by Lexie's presence. "Why the fuck were you even hired Lexie!? To keep up with the books and money because you're in Chicago's fucking community college taking up a finance class?"

He laughs. "We don't need you here! You're probably just fucking Carmy, aren't you!?"

...

The insult goes too far... Lexie winds her hand back and slaps Richie clean across the face.

His cheek heats red, yet he was raised to never lay a finger back on a woman. "Fine." He gulps. "I probably deserved that."

Her large brown eyes eat away at his heart as Richie notices the comment humiliated her into making tears form and glass over at the surface of her eyes.

"God damn right you deserved it." Lexie holds back her tears and ill intentions to cause Richie serious bodily harm.

Little does she know, in Richie's own sick and twisted way, he only brought it up because he's curious if she's already been snatched up by some other guy on the staff. Because if he had the chance, maybe he'd even be interested in her himself...

But he's sure no uppity bitch like Lexie would even look in his direction.

"This is what I mean." She scoffs. "You're disrespectful, and you're a piece of shit who just causes arguments."

Richie rolls his eyes. "And I always finish them too! So what the fuck do you want to do about it?"

...

The wrong thing to say to a woman who is suddenly about to lose herself. Lexie instantly shoves him against the locker... causing the metal material to ring and bang out loudly.

He gulps, fearing that the young cutie has been pushed far past her limits and that he's about to get his ass kicked.

"Okay, that was all you that time. I didn't say shit to you to deserve that!" Richie argues, attempting to strike fear in her heart. "But you listen... If you put your fucking hands on me again, I swear to god—"

"That you'll do what?!" Lexie entices.

Although comically smaller than the large man, she yanks him down to the wooden locker bench before them. "Sit down!"

He surrenders with his hands held high. "Okay baby chill, you're losing your shit right now, you need to take a chill—"

She grips his face as she stands over him. "DO YOU EVER JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!?"

A question that Richie knows not to answer...

Lexie finds herself staring at the pink puckered lips within her grasp and her thoughts become insane.

A glimmer in both of their eyes immediately changes the tension in the room into something far more worth the adrenaline.

Lexie slips out of the panties beneath her short pencil skirt...

"What— what are you doing?" Richie mumbles as his middle-aged heart beats harder than it ever has.

"Occupying your mouth to keep it from running so fucking much." Her panties slip down off of her heels and into Richie's lap as she tugs a brutal grip onto his short strands of hair... With her grip, Lexie forces Richie's head back and his mouth open as she places her cunt across his tongue.

Shocked and confused, Richie puts in work anyway. His tongue glides through her folds that surprisingly have slicked during their entire morning spent arguing and he begins to devour her pussy... A cunt so fresh, fat, warm, and half of his age.

The baritoned groans of his voice heat her core like nothing she has ever felt before. Lexie instantly grabs hold onto Richie's shoulders before her weakening knees begin to fail her.

Her eyebrows furrow as she begins to sweetly complain. "Oh fuck Richie..."

Glad to see that Richie's mouth has a better use than just arguing, Lexies squeals lightly as her eyes roll backwards in pleasure. She continues to fuck his face and be teased sweetly by his prominent nose, prickly unshaven face, and wildly fat tongue.

Richie becomes painfully aroused within his jeans. He moans into her cunt as his strong fingers grip at her waist tightly, bringing her closer across his face so his tongue can explore the depths of her flesh even further.

Blessed, yet confused, he begins to pause during his every word from suckling and gently kissing on her tasty mound. "What—the fuck—" He continues. "Are we—doing?"

Lexie squeezes her eyes tightly shut, almost orgasming each time she notices his sky-blue eyes staring up at her.

She bites her lip. "Just don't stop."

Richie hums through her pussy. "Mmm, Okay baby, I won't not til you tell me too."

Hands beginning to reach up her hips to cup at her waist, Lexie's mouth hangs open ajar... infatuated with how his strong fingers nearly double over the tiny measurements of her waist. Richie's grip on her is so powerful, forcing her not to run from his probing tongue and the lewd suckling and squelching that sound sloppily between her thighs.

Her legs begin to shake... Richie feasts on her as if his job depends on it.

She drags her full bottom lip between her teeth, begging for mercy as her core tightens with butterflies. "Mmmm'oh my god!" She whines.

Looking towards the dusty clock in the kitchen that hasn't been cleaned in years, Lexie realizes how close it is to the beginning of everyone's shift... morning prep.

Although time is almost out, she refuses to finish without having Richie put in more work and hammer her with cock.

"Get up. She demands. "Fuck me."

Lexie watches as Richie stands and tears off his apron to get to his pants.

Inside his trousers, Richie reveals a handsome ten inch cock. Veins protruding and swollen hard as it stands erect towards his belly button, Lexie can't wait to have the peach toned dagger deep into her guts. She begins to grin, glad to have trusted her instincts about skinny, tall men, who aren't worth shit. Although maybe not material for a husband, always trust that they'll have a cock big and gorgeous enough that it makes it worth the price of dealing with the constant bullshit that comes along with it.

Lexie wraps her legs around Richie's waist as he unbuttons her top and kisses at her neck and the fullness of her breasts that bulge from out of the top of her bra.

He lifts her against the lockers with clear impatience as he reaches beneath her to direct his cockhead into her flesh.

She coos sweetly. The tip of his erection, bulbous and hot as it lubes itself through the lips of her cunt, sliding backwards until it meets her tight, however inviting opening. She hisses as Richie slowly bucks forward, sheathing himself into her body.

"Jesus, Lexie."He groans out. His member being choked perfectly by her tight pussy.

Richie's many inches continue to dig forward until his hips are flushed against hers. She winces in pain as she tucks her forehead into the crook of his neck.

Richie softly hushes her stress, kissing sweetly at the parts available on her pretty little face. "Just hold onto my neck, okay?"

Lexie agrees through a quickened nod. She wraps her arms around his neck, wincing as the strokes begin.

Richie pulls out half way and slowly returns back fully into her core for his first impale. The two synchronize in a lewd and guilty first moan.

Richie picks up his speed, hips beginning to snap against her spread opened thighs as her pussy sops sticky and wet for him.

Lexie weeps soft tears as she gets railed by someone that she loathes with her entire being.

As her breasts bounce and spill from out of her dress shirt, hair tangling from what was a perfect blowout this morning, she soon realizes that nothing could be more delicious than early morning hate sex.

Richie watches beneath them at how well the little minx can take his cock, her sweet begging and the banging of the old lockers up against them encouraging him to go stronger and make her take his cream.

He stares at her lips, trying his best not to kiss them being that he still is so confused on where they stand... not even fifteen minutes ago, he was a second away from getting his ass kicked by her, and now suddenly... he finds himself balls deep between her legs.

He gulps. "Tell me what you want."

"For you to shut the fuck up." Panting for air, Lexie's brain becomes mush and only wanting to think about their sex.

He chuckles softly, complimenting her under his breath. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

"Yes mama, I'll shut the fuck up." He obeys. "Now what else do you want?"

"Drill me." Her eyes become low and sinister like a siren, full of sinful desire and without any shame. "Fuck me harder."

He nods. "Whatever you want."

Lexie clenches tightly around his shaft as Richie suddenly picks up a dangerous speed, spasming and slapping into her cunt as if she needed to be disciplined.

Now fucked out of her heels, her toes curl within her stockings. She begins to push on his slim and toned stomach for space between them.

—but Richie won't allow it. "Move your fucking hands." He shoves them away.

Her cunt pulses around him. Brain circuit-shorting as she gets embarrassingly used like a cock sleeve by one of the most unrespectable men of this job.

Yet, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Her whimpers become strangled, lips wet with drool.

"Look at you." Richie teases as the corners of his mouth begin to quirk. "Talk so much shit all morning long, but get real quiet with a cock in you."

"Mmm." He continues, skin hot and flushed as he tries to talk himself away from cumming. "You like this shit baby?"

A sudden slow pace blows Lexie's mind as Richie's lower abdomen knocks into her sensitive pearl. The feeling sends her to the moon.

Her nails dig into Richie's forearms as her walls contract around him, pulling his cock deeper inside awaiting to drain him of all his cum.

Richie's jaw goes slack, hips locking in place as he lunges further into Lexie's pussy until their bodies are flushed together.

A choked groan exits the depths of his throat. "Oh my fucking—"

Lexie covers Richie'a mouth as she hears keys and morning conversation outside of the restaurant near the front entrance.

Richie's cock twitches as it sputters out with hot cum. Filling Lexie's cunt with his spend until it begins to web around him.

His pleads and moans are terribly loud as she uses a second hand over the first to silence him.

Lexie's eyes roll backwards as she bites her lip, enjoying the thrill of being stuffed with cum as he throbs and becomes limp inside of her.

"Richie..." she gulps, whispering tiredly. "You'll have to keep quiet."

...

Eyebrows furrowed as he becomes hooked on the sound of her soft and tired after-sex voice, he'll do whatever she asks him to.

He nods, obeying as a good boy does however nearly biting his tongue off to silence himself as she takes her hands away. "Fucking hell Lexie... Goddamn baby."

He finally calms from his explosive climax, helping Lexie to her feet as they quickly begin to redress.

Stunned, Richie can't help but to watch her (mostly in love) as she places the heels back onto her feet to continue about her day.

Still alone near the lockers, they hurry to prep themselves before the crew comes inside in a few seconds.

"Jesus!" Richie laughs in excitement. "That was the best fuck I've had in—in, well fuck! In my whole fucking life."

Lexie rolls her eyes as he becomes giddy like a schoolboy.

With romance on his mind, Richie nearly begins to plan a day for her to meet his mother, hell— a day for them to marry! "Listen, babygirl, there's this incredible Italian spot on West Avenue, let me take you out—"

"Richie, please. Just shut up." Lexie ignores him as she quickly rebuttons her top and grabs her belongings from the locker.

...

He frowns, suddenly becoming furious.

"Alright wait a minute!" Richie refuses. "I just gave you a raw fuck in the back of the locker room and now I'm getting the cold shoulder? Are you my girl or what?"

Lexie scoffs.

"Fucking old guys..."She sighs in a quiet whisper, speaking mostly to herself. "Give em pussy once and they get all clingy."

Their arguing comes back at full speed. "It's not old guys you little fucking slut! It's called class, and respect! I wanted to take you out. Lexie, what the fuck do you even want with me?"

"Exactly what we had." She shrugs.

"What?" He lashes back. "I piss you off and then you go all horny she-devil on me and fuck my brains out?"

Lexie freezes in thought. "...yes"

Richie can't believe what he's hearing.

He scoffs, beginning to laugh in disbelief. "You're bugging. You're fucking insane, you know that?"

Lexie sighs as she continues to hurry from what they just committed. "I like things to be simple, okay? Did you enjoy it or not?"

Richie rolls his eyes. Pissed as if he's been used like a two cent whore. "Of course I did, fuck you Lexie.Don't ask me no stupid shit like that, you know I did."

Out of breath as the door chimes begin to ring up front, Lexie smiles softly. "Good! So you just be Richie, I'll be Lexie, and maybe we'll do it again sometime."

"Understand?" She questions, setting boundaries with Richie who is clearly a romantic.

...

He pauses.

Lexie sighs. "Do I need to ask again?"

"No." He pouts, spoiled from a taste of good pussy.

"Good." Lexie nods and grins tightly as if they just shook hands over a business deal before she begins to walk away.

"Hey." Richie grabs her. "Wait. —Kiss me."

"I'm not going to kiss you." Lexie tugs at his grasp, yet she isn't able to get out of it.

He bears over her... forcing her eyes upon him as he demands for what he wants. "Damn it Lexie, I'm not asking. Kiss me before I start making a fucking scene in here."

...

Lexie rolls her eyes, knowing that denying him of this isn't worth outing what they've done together.

"Fine." She gives in.

Placing his hands at her waist, Richie pulls her against him. His right hand reaches towards her face where he watches her closely... sweetly brushing her baby hairs out of his view. The hand softly cups the side of her face... wide enough to caress her jaw and neck as he forces her unto her toes to meet his lips.

Their lips finally meet... And the kiss is unbelievably tender... Quickly expanding into something more as their mouths open and tongues tangle.

Richie presses her tighter towards him, hand now trailing from her waist to a smack and grip onto her ass. The other hand leaves her cheek to his digits pulling tightly at her long black tresses.

Their eyes continue to stay closed as their moans heat each other's mouths. Tongue fucking each other with more heat than their actual sex...

Lexie finds herself breath taken and begging for more as Richie pulls away with an intoxicating sexy bite and pull to her bottom lip.

Her eyes soon flutter open.. She gulps, unsure to why it was the most romantic kiss that she has ever had.

Richie grins as he notices the stunning blush that begins to heat her face.

"Now..." Richie bites his lip as he continues to stare at her beauty, smoothing her hair and tucking it behind her ears. "Now you can go."

Unsure of the butterflies in her stomach, she stares into Richie's eyes and slowly nods.

Slightly mad at herself for feeling a growing crush, she can't believe that it is what she's thinking it is... Hell!— She'd even have to beat her own ass if she were to begin falling for Richie Jerimovich...

"I-I have to go now." Lexie gulps.

"Mhm." He nods. "Have an excellent day, sweetie."

She stumbles lightly over her feet, still high off of Richie's kiss and he quietly begins to chuckle.

He's got her right where he wants her. Although Lexie claims to not want anything serious, he's determined to convince her otherwise.

The crew finally begins to pour inside and Richie wishes everyone a good morning.

He loves his job... He loves his family here.

A team of hard working Chicago locals, just trying to make it through day by day. Real people working real jobs.

The Beef is Richie's home. And if things go right... One day, Lexie could be that too.

As Carmy readies himself for the day and prepares himself to run a business he never expected to own... He shouts, wanting a minute alone with his cousin Richie as they dap each other up while they greet.

"Aye good morning, talk to me for a sec Cousin..." Carmy begins. "Listen Richie, when you and Michael began hiring for the restaurant, you hired people who quickly became like family. You have a knack for this Richie, and I trust your judgement."

Carmy continues. "I wanted to ask you, what do you think about this new girl on the books? Yeah, she's saved us a lot of money and things are running smooth as shit... but is she one of us? Can she keep up with the crew?"

Richie shrugs.

Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, his fingers rustle the lace fabric of Lexie's thong that he kept as a souvenir from their early morning quickie before the break of dawn.

The thought of their morning together alone suddenly makes Richie's heart flutter and eats wildly at his soul...

"Yeah." He gulps. "She's a fucking bitch... but yeah, she's one of us. She's part of the family."

"So fuck it... she stays?" Carmy asks.

Richie chuckles. "Yeah.. if we're lucky."

A delivery man pops inside the restaurant as they continue to chat and Carmy signs a form on the man's clipboard before the man leaves again.

"What was that for?" Richie yawns. "Ordered more napkin supply or some shit."

"Nope! All good on supplies." Carmy pats Richie on the back. "Just signing the invoice on the security cameras we had installed last week."

...

A chill suddenly falls down Richie's spine.

He looks up at the ceiling, noticing the new cameras installed in every corner of the restaurant. The entrance, the counter, the kitchen, and the fucking locker room.

Richie freezes in absolute horror. "Oh fuck."

[blog-moved-lol]

Some of my Thoughts About Batman: The Animated Series as Someone Who Knows Very Little About Batman Lore (PART 1)

(This is just the first three episodes because it's late and I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed now lol)

•Bangin intro has me very hyped

•Police blimps

•"No one is taking a vigilante force onto my streets." Commissioner Gordon.. Wtf do you think Batman is-? Do you know who Batman is at this point in the series?

•Gotham citizens have a hard time telling the difference between an emo and an actual anthropomorphic bat despite the fact that they look nothing alike

•ALFRED IS HERE AND THAT MAKES ME HAPPY BECAUSE HE'S REALLY COOL •HE'S A SARCASTIC KING AND I LOVE HIM •We have the same sense of humor frfr

•Batman really likes using smoke bombs

•From reading the episode descriptions, and from watching this first episode, it seems like a lot of these villains are just drug addicts- •Drug addicts who really like bats, in this case

•The anthropomorphic bat was a doctor's fursona all along •There's a ridiculous amount of furries in Gotham

•They really like breaking windows. This is only the first episode and like.. Three windows have been broken already

•Christmas tree rockets

•ROBIN SPOTTED •WHICH ROBIN IS THIS •I KNOW THERE'S A LOT OF 'EM •Whichever Robin it is has sass, but I think all of them do •"Well ba-humbug to you too 😒" - Robin •THEY'RE WATCHING MOVIES AND EATING DINNER TOGETHER ON CHRISTMAS THIS IS A CUTE FAMILY MOMENT ASJSHAHSJAK •Unfortunately the Joker is here to mess that up tho T-T

•"Looks like I'll have to teach daddy some manners.." Uhhh, Joker..? 💀

•Look at this lovely father & son Christmas bonding, saving people and getting shot at with canons 💕

•I feel like the Joker having turrets shaped like him is really on brand somehow, despite knowing little to nothing about the Joker's said brand

•BETTY BOOP? •BETTY BOOP IS GOING TO MURDER US ALL

•Batman just has a freaking baseball bat 😭🖐 •"They don't call you Bat-man for nothing! 😀" - Robin

•According to the five minutes of research I just did, I think this Robin is Dick Grayson which is, according to the longer then five minutes of research I did last night, the OG (AKA the first) Robin.. So before Bruce's orphan addiction fully formed, I suppose?

•What did Bruce do to you, doctor guy- •This doctor is, like, really passive aggressive ;-; •Also kind of rude of him to just spout nonsense about Bruce's father and Bruce's father's death as if that wasn't an incredibly traumatizing experience for Bruce lmao •BRUCE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TIME TO BE DEPRESSED ABOUT IT BECAUSE SCARECROW IS HERE AND HE HAS A GUN- •The villains in this series are kinda obsessed with guns just as much as they're obsessed with drugs

•So Scarecrow takes the "Scare" part of his name literally and makes people hallucinate their fears? •Damn Bruce, dealing with some trauma right now?? 😭😭 I feel like a lot of characters with parent problems (whether those parents are dead or not) have visions and dreams of their parents being like "you suck lmao" to them

•Commissioner Gordon does, in fact know who Batman is right now, so wtf was he talking about earlier with the whole "no vigilantes" thing -_-

•yeah I'd probably call someone a lunatic if they kidnapped people and performed human experimentation too, scarecrow

•Guys I think Bruce needs to go to therapy (again? Has he already been before?) because he's having- like- a panic attack over this Scarecrow guy and his parents and all that.. •I mean my mans hands are SHAKING and his visions going all blurry •YEAH YOU TELL HIM ALFRED, GIVE HIM THOSE POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS AND FEED HIM SOUP ALL RIGHT

•Bruce literally can not catch a break in this episode he went from having panic attacks because of the fear toxin to just.. Getting beat up by random, also fear gassed people 😔

•They like blimps a lot

•Just broke another window

•Tiny plane that looks like it's made out of cardboard

•They also like explosions a lot

•Why's this Jonathan Crane guy so scared of bats •He also has elf ears lol

•Thomas and Martha Wayne? Bruce's parents names acquired

•(This version of)Bruce looks stupid in sunglasses

[lordansketil]

In my search for more royal historical fantasy weight gain stories (there's a new sentence) I got sucked into yet another 1970s TV production about a hedonistic Prince of Wales, only this time it's Edward VII, aka Bertie. It's a great series, very addicting for some reason! Maybe it's all the juicy family drama. However it's a little too tasteful to get into the raunchier aspects of Bertie's many affairs. Timothy West delivers an excellent portrayal, though like the many depictions of George IV, they could have easily stuffed even more padding into his shirt. For, uh, realism. ;)

Then like the perv I am, I searched Ao3 for Edwardian weight gain fiction but I came up totally empty! I was shocked! Maybe I'm not searching the right tags? I can easily understand why Regency weight gain is more frequent, if still very much a niche, but like... Bertie is right there! Maybe he was more responsible about his duties and not quite as wildly extravagant but he still loved food and sex and smoking a great deal. And then there's his "love chair," and his alleged champagne baths, ffs!! I feel like there's a fic in there somewhere. Who knows, maybe I'll write it myself eventually, if it doesn't exist already. I must be looking in the wrong place.

I have spent soooo much time looking at pictures of that chair and trying to figure out what the third person was doing... ANYWAY, thanks for the rec, I will definitely watch! I feel like George IV and Edward VII have a lot in common (as did Edward's parents who never let him forget it) Edward wasn't as clever or artistic as George... but he also wasn't as stubborn or unstable and had more of a sense of duty. George would have benefited from Bertie's travels and the much more polite and censored Victorian press (Victoria's government certainly never ran hit pieces on her son on the regular).

The scene in 'Character & Caricature' where Prinny gets stuck in the bath was inspired by Bertie! I think it would be interesting to imagine what a Bertie born in the 1760's and a George born in the 1840's might have been like. One does get the feeling that a lot of what separates them was generational. Man, Prinny would have become so obsessed with Art Nouveau! In terms of Edwardian weight gain fiction on A03, my impression is that it's all Downton Abbey fanfiction?

[lovebillyhargrove]

Billy knows his limit. Has been to enough parties to know when to stop if he doesn't want to have a massive hangover in the morning or end up puking his guts out in a bathroom. Knows how to drink and knows his own body.

Unfortunately, tonight is not the case. It's all fucking Harrington's fault. They had this .. fuck, they jerked each other off, alright? A week ago, in Tommy's bathroom, of all places, when Tommy invited the team to celebrate their victory over some other hick-town losers who suck at basketball. Everyone was happy, everyone was drunk and riding the champions high, and it was Harrington who caught Billy by the hand when he was on his way out of the bathroom. It was Harrington who locked them in the same goddamn bathroom upstairs and it was fucking Harrington who opened Billy's fly and took out his dick.

It was the same motherloving asshole Harrington who didn't even look Billy's way on Monday. Not that Billy wanted him to. It's not like .. it meant anything, right? But Billy thought.. oh what didn't he think during Saturday and Sunday? Made an honest effort of thinking about literally anything but Steve, and failed. Billy remembered the velvety feeling of Steve's dick on his own palm, the maddening maddening rush of it. Remembered the quiet moans Harrington let out and his own heavy breathing. The smell of him. The tight grip of Steve's hand on his own hard pleading cock and the sharp blinding pleasure. The taboo of it all. The pumping adrenaline-fucking-rollercoaster. Christ, Billy woke up on Saturday with a fucking boner and had to jerk off just to make his dick stay down.

Sunday was no better.

So what the fuck happened on Monday? Was their 7 minute in heaven aka Tommy's bathroom a drunk mistake? Did Harrington forget how he shot his cum all over Billy's shirt, eyes closed, breath hitching, melting like a bitch in Billy's hands?

Could be, yeah, but it just felt like it wasn't. A mistake.

Still, the preppy stuck up asshole didn't even look Billy's way. Kept on talking to the guys and smiling to all the girls in his vicinity. Even Carol said something like "King Steve's on fire today" when she, Tommy and Billy were sharing a smoke in the parking lot between classes. Carol is a bitch, but Billy's okay with her.

The whole week was a torture. What the fuck was wrong with himself of all people? Billy didn't sign up for this crap. Fuck Harrington. Fuck this bullshit. If Steve thinks nothing of that heated moment they'd shared, then Billy's not gonna lose his sleep over it. This fucking Hawkins, slowly draining life out of him. He needs to get back in the game, he needs to stop overthinking, he needs to let it go. A drunken mistake, nothing more to it.

This Friday another party is on. Andy's house. It's spring, and kids just want to have fun.

Billy comes looking good. A black wife beater, perfect to show off his arms. Black jeans. Blue eyes looking deep into your soul (and not giving a fuck), eyelashes fluttering. Blonde curls, girls drooling. Billy looks like a god, and he knows it. Can feel the eyes of practically all Hawkins high schools girls on him. Tina would not mind, for sure. Too bad she has a boyfriend. If Billy crooked a finger her way, she'd follow. But Billy doesn't want any unnecessary drama. Tammy is okay. Brenda might actually be a bit better. Or Heather. Seriously, who cares. He just needs to have a good time, no promises made.

Somewhere along the way, Billy loses control. Catches a glimpse of Harrington's fluffy hair. Who cares? Kids just wanna have fun. Beer, more beer, multiple tequila shots, fucking punch.. ?? Too much booze, too many cigarettes, he knows it, but it's too late. He shouldn't have taken that vodka bottle, the shit's strong but he's already past the point of caring. Brenda feels nice. No, wait, that's Heather. Who the fuck cares. They are laughing about something and Billy's whispering obscenities in her ear, hand on her thigh, the other one's on her waist. The couch is so soft, it's gonna swallow them whole. Oh shit, oh no, he has no control. Billy's closing his eyes leaning in for a kiss and his head is spinning and they are kissing, definitely kissing, sweet and bitter alcohol on their tongues, but he's feeling woozy, if he keeps his eyes closed he's gonna puke. We don't want that on Heather. After all, it's not her fault that Harrington didn't even fucking talk about this whole situation!

Gotta keep the eyes open. "Get a room!" someone's shouting in the distance.

And Heather is not shy, she wants to get a room, her hand's resting on Billy's chest and going down down down

Fuck he's going to be sick all over her

"Honey, I have to.. go.. to the bathroom. I'll be right back, don't leave."

He's stumbling up and careening forward almost falling over the coffee table

'Whoooa Hargrove, easy!" - must be Tommy.

He has to get to the bathroom for fuck's sake.

Billy ends up throwing up in the toilet bowl. He's not enjoying it, that's for sure. Never again, for the love of god, is he out of his mind?? To get so fucking wasted over some .. dude ???

Suddenly the door opens and there's someone else in the bathroom. Billy doesn't give a fuck, if they want to enjoy the view and the sounds, that's their problem.

Suddenly someone's sliding down near him and gently picks up his hair. Billy groans and pukes again and again and again. Someone's holding his hair back.

Fuck, when is it gonna stop? Never again. Billy moans, holds the toilet seat tighter and throws up what seems to be all of his insides in one go.

"Billy, are you okay? Do you need anything?"

What in the actual FUCK.

It's Harrington's voice.

It's Harrington's fucking hands holding his hair back.

Billy pushes them aside and gets on his unsteady feet. Flushes the toilet.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

He's not going to think about it now.

Steve's standing in front of him.

"Billy.."

"Fuck I need water, move."

Shoves Harrington to the side, goes to the kitchen, drinks one glass, then another and another.

Fresh air. He needs fresh air.

Billy goes out and stands on the porch. He's dizzy but it's already better. If he sleeps in his car for a couple of hours he might even make it home before dawn. Or he can go upstairs unnoticed and sleep it off in one of the rooms keeping it locked. Whatever.

He'll break Harrington's fucking nose the next time he comes close.

Part 2 where nothing gets resolved

Part 3

[ryukang1995]

Mortal Kombat characters, according to me (part 1)

- Johnny Cage - The clown/simp. Some folks love him, but I don't...at least not later incarnations of him (the Midway and 1995 versions can stay though).

- Kano - The Aussie scumbag. He can be delightfully nasty.

- Raiden - I actually like him the most when he's Christopher Lambert. His canon self is either a boy scout (New MK1) or an idiot who sucks at his job (NRS timeline).

- Liu Kang - The champ. A true badass and legend. The undisputed main hero of the franchise.

- Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion - The fan favorite. Some will say he's the GOAT, but while I beg to differ, I still think he's awesome.

- Bi Han/Sub-Zero/Noob Saibot - The troll. Possibly the bane of many players' existence, besides the boss characters.

- Sonya Blade - Waifu #1. I'd have her hook up with Liu Kang, despite Johnny Cage being her canonical ex.

- Syzoth/Reptile - He's at his best when he's "the Green ninja". His New MK1 version isn't too bad though.

- Goro - A nightmare in every sense of the word. He's actually the best sub-boss in the entire franchise.

- Shang Tsung - The best villain in the whole lore. He can be sympathetic as he is wicked and deceitful.

- Kuai Liang/Sub-Zero/Scorpion - The GOAT (besides Liu Kang). Some prefer Hanzo, but I always liked this guy more.

- Kitana - Waifu #2. Arguably the sexiest MK female (though she's tied with Sonya for me). I'd have her hook up with Kuai, despite Liu Kang being her main love in the canon.

- Mileena - I prefer Kitana, but she's kool, if not very crazy and monstrous, lul.

- Kung Lao - Best bro to Liu Kang. Has great potential that doesn't get fully reached, but he's still awesome.

- Jax - Sonya's kool uncle (in a way). He's awesome too.

- Baraka - One ugly motherfucker. Still badass though.

- Tomas Vrbada/Smoke - Best bro to Kuai Liang. He's kool as both a ninja and a cyborg.

- Jade - Best sis to Kitana. Some will say she's a waifu or the sexiest, but while I prefer Kitana and Sonya, she's great too.

- Kintaro - Tiger Goro. He is arguably tougher than Goro, but I never felt that he was as memorable.

- Shao Kahn - Every MK fan's worst nightmare. 'nuff said.

- Sindel - The queen with a strong voice. She's at her best when she's a caring mother to Kitana, and fuck the MK11 version.

- Stryker - For a while, he was the Poochie of MK, but he did get a glow up in MK9, so I can't really rag on him too much. Plus, there have been worse MK characters over the years.

- Cyrax - The Yellow cyborg aka Mustard. He's kool.

- Sektor - The Red cyborg aka Ketchup. He's kool too, but I do prefer Cyrax.

- Nightwolf - Awesome design. Not too much to say about him.

- Sheeva - Lady Goro. If I have to be honest, she's more memorable than Kintaro.

- Kabal - Weird but awesome design. They can't seem to settle on whether he's truly evil or not though.

- Ermac - Probably one of the best ninjas in the franchise, besides Scorpion and Sub-Zero. I do prefer him as "the Red ninja" over him being mummy-like though.

- Rain - The Purple ninja named after the famous Prince song. He has a kool move set, but his personality just makes you want to punch him (though I think that was the intention).

- Motaro - Fuck. This. Guy. I always hated fighting him.

That's all for now. I might make more posts about how I view MK characters. If you agree or disagree with any of these, it's all good. Feel free to reblog or leave comments.

[docterzerocare]

Doc, if you'd like some plot points from "These Gilded Haunted Halls" (a Fnaf au i made that's separate from the Rewrite) totally out of context, have some more (i'm totally willing to elaborate if asked)!

alongside "Elizabeth is the result of a Willry Love Affair":

Three Sixth Graders Are Given Weed And Decide To Smoke It In The Back Room Of Freddy's.

A Good 25% Of Hurricane, Utah Fucking HATES William.

1981 Is "The Year Everything Went To Shit"

A Literal Toddler Witnesses His Father Murder His Older Brother's Best Friend, But Gets Gaslit Into Believing An Animatronic Did It, Thus Giving Him Animatronic Trauma™

Cassidy and Michael: ✨Trauma Nightmares Suck Ass™✨

Very Pissed Off Teenager Haunts A Plushie That He Gave To A Toddler In Order To Keep An Eye On Him (And His Brother)

Apparently Ghosts Have Face Blindness, And It's Made Worse When Someone's Wearing Purple. For Local Employees, Who Have Purple Uniforms, This Is A Fucking Problem.

A Man's Four Year Long Mental Spiral Culminates In Him Moving To Nebraska With His Former Coworker/Current Boyfriend.

Halloween 1983; aka "Due To William's Unfortunate Paranoia That His Crimes Will Be Revealed, He Decides To Cause MORE FUCKING PROBLEMS (read: kill his youngest son...who's recovering from a brain injury from a few months prior)"

Remember The Ghost Face Blindness? Well, Turns Out They Kinda Killed A Guy Because They Thought He Was His Dad. He Got Revived, Though. By His Sibling Figure. Even Funnier (Sadder), Said Guy's Dad Might've Intended For This To Happen, Somewhat.

What Do You Do When Your Twin's Been Dead For Decades And Your Dad's Horrifically Depressed? COMMIT ARSON.

Woman Divorces Her Husband Because She Doesn't Like How Hard He's Cosplaying Icarus (By Risking His Reputation).

William Thinks He's Getting Tortured By One Ghost, But Nope! It's Four. Two Of Them Are His Kids, Actually!

Omg incredible, these are definitely very compelling plot points frfr

Lmao good job william, thats the worst anyones has ever done it

[mrstsung]

Look mk shipping discourse ahead

So warning ya before you kontinue. These are just my opinions. Plz dont take them so to heart ok?

Cw: vent,discourse

If yall gonna actually do subscorp.....

Bi-han and hanzo have more sexual tension than kaui ever fucking did but y'all aint ready for that conversation. ☕ *sips coffee*

Kuai and hanzo had misunderstandings and genuine friendship. Could it be something more. Sure but it doesn't need to be to be interesting or even wholesome.

Meanwhile bi-han og subzero and hanzo had this love hatefuck in their eyes. Good fucking god like y'all be shipping the wrong subzero brother.

But y'all just only like kaui cuz he's the quote unquote "nicer" brother. Meanwhile what actually happened could male for better and classic AND REAL ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE. i mean it's right fucking there. Kuai and hanzo were never enemies. Let alone friends till waaaaaaaaay later. And even then....they had better things to do than each other. Sorry not sorry. Kaui and hanzo were just damn to platonic to me. Meanwhile bi-han and hanzo be like "bitch" "bitch" and then internally probably all like "💖🔥🔪"

And hanzo and kaui couldn't work because of that tension hanzo has with bi-han. Mostly on bi-hans half than hanzo. Cuz y'all conveniently forget. Hanzo killed bi-han over a misunderstanding,yeah a mofo dont just forget that. You'd be pissed too if you were wrongfully killed over something you didn't do by a ninja from a rival clan. Like bruh.

You can't have this ship without complications and problems.

So you either fix that. Or do the smart thing and ship KUAI LIANG WITH TOMAS VERBADA AKA SMOKE. BECAUSE THEY ACTUALLY ARE FROM THE SAME FUCKING CLAN AND HAVE WAY MORE IN COMMON AND HAVE ACTUALLY LIVED AND BEEN AROUND EACH OTHER!!! ffs.

Hanzo hasashi has not shown in canon anything to kuai than just mutual respect.

Kuai maybe but i dunno. I feel people reach so much with this ship it's like do we even play the same game?

Meanwhile the fucking "bitch fest" bi-han and hanzo have is on another lvl. Granted all this hate is still misplaced and quan chi is the real problem. But ya know.

If you're gonna ship a subzero with hanzo. Bi-han subzero makes more sense.

Tho i personally don't ship hanzo with any subzero ever. (I either self ship or have him just be dad ninja)

And i ship kuai liang subzero with tomas and bi-han with sareena (and self ship with either on occasion)

Either way the point is. Y'all be going about these characters and their dynamics so wrong. And i feel people just want different characters than what is actually happening. Like go make an oc at that point. It's different when they dont have certain dynamics shown and aspects. (Most mk villains dont because they are treated majority of the time as guys to beat up. So they aren't like sub and scorp. Which is shown.....everywhere,all the time,and takes up a majority of the plot. So we know all there is about yellow n blue ninja clans. Even then it doesn't go into that much detail but still we get more insight with them than any other character. Even liu kang and kung lao don't have as much as the two posterboys of mk. Which sucks)

Shipping aside. It sucks that both subzeros(kuai and bi-han) and scorpion(hanzo) get so grossly misinterpreted by fans. And think that everything is hunky dory peaches and roses. When it really isn't. While neither clan after a certain point is warring or fighting each other. There still is tension. Simply because of years,decades even of the mess left behind. Hanzo has to rebuild from the ground up. And kuai has to repair and restore the lin kuei to what it used to be but better and more equal. And less....robotic. lol. There was still a lot of work. Not to mention if noob became bi-han subzero again,somehow. That would add even more awkward tension(good storytelling tho) because bi-han while maybe he could forgive hanzo,he could never be friends truly. And if you guys ship kuai and hanzo. I dont think kuai would feel comfortable with having his only damn brother he's worked so hard to bring back and rekindle his family with just so he cpuld get some dick. Im sorry,relationships dont work that way. Hanzo and kaui are family oriented,and if one or more of parties involved are not on equal playing field or cares for the other. It's a no go.

What im trying to say is the dynamic is not healthy,long lasting,or even worth it. There is not any good chemistry.

Until bi-han and hanzo in canon make amends. Only then could you MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. Make that work.

But again shipping aside.

Tomas/smoke and kuai liang subzero. Works better. Because they not only like i said are from the same clan,grew up together. Bi-han more likely than not. Would understand tomas and actually be pretty cool with him.

Like I'm just saying people.

If you want kuai liang to be with a pyromancer fire dude so damn bad.

But Thank you for koming to my ted talk.

MAKE A FUCKING OC!

Maybe this is just me tho.

[jwowwsboobs]

Gimme Yer Love, Angel in the Night

The thing about LA is, it's fucking weird. I mean, Los Angeles, city of angels, full of people lookin' to rip you off, rob you dead, take yer boots. And the sun is always fuckin' shining. It never fucking rains. It's like heaven for people with big dreams, but they all come and die. It's the home of the rich, the famous, the megastars. And there are broke people, homeless people, hookers and their pimps, winos and wash-outs fuckin' everywhere.

And me. I guess I'm broke people. I work at a shit job, washing plates, trying not to fuck up my hands or hair, so when I get off, I can kick out the jams in half empty clubs with guys I don't really like or party with people I know well enough to know they don't lace their shit, and then come back home, chick or two on my arm, crash on the couch and get woken up by my roommate, Tripp, AKA the nicest guy on earth, so I get to work on time. Rinse and repeat.

I was headed to the club that night, paycheck in cash in my pocket and brand new leather pants on my ass. Maybe to meet a chick. More likely to have a few and pick one up. I shoved my way through the crowd of people to a guy I knew on door duty, who let me in for free, much to the annoyance of the lame-ass and his girlfriend I'd cut in-front of. Sucks to suck! The club was dark, the air was thick and hot with smoke, sweat, spilled beer, shrieking guitars and thudding drums and bass. The stage was like a setting sun, people crowded around it, almost blocking out the band. You could still see them, but barely. I shoved my way to the bar, squeezing in next to two beautiful blondes, perfect butts, tall as trees, hair as big as the sun, two feet from the smokers corner and the bathroom doors. They side eyed me and rolled their twelve pounds of eyelashes and eyeliner at each other, pouting their big red lips and twirling their hair around their perfectly manicured fingers. Tough crowd, but I always like a challenge. I flagged down the bartender, asked for a beer. As the bartender went to grab a glass and fill it up, I turned to the girls.

"Y'all want anything?" I shouted at them.

The one next to me looked at me like I was a new species of sidewalk slime that she'd just found on the bottom of her brand fuckin' new 500 dollar heels, but her friend smiled and pointed at their glasses.

"Refill for these ladies," I gestured to the girls, and the bartender took their glasses away to make whatever overpriced, fruity shit they'd been drinking. I turned to the stage, drank my beer, waited for the right moment to grease them up. Turns out they had me beat.

When their drinks came, they split before I could say "You're welcome."

Tough break.

I knocked the rest of the beer back, and was about to flag for a refill, when I felt cold breath on my neck.

"Some people have no fuckin' manners, huh, sunshine?"

I looked over my shoulder into cold, dark eyes peering over mirrored sunglasses, almost covered by shaggy black hair. He slipped into the open space next to me. Stage lights dimmed.

"Uh-"

He held up his hand, sliver and black rings sparkling in the club's flashing lights. "Another beer?"

"Shit, sure man," I said, digging in my pockets for some cash. He snorted.

"On me."

"Hey, thanks man! I'm Lani."

"Ryan." We shook hands, his hands like ice against my sweaty and damp palm.

"You new to town?" I asked, as we waited.

"Hardly." He blew his bangs out of his face. "Are you?"

"Not really. Been here a coupla months. Where are ya from?"

"Far away. Why'd you come here, farm boy?"

I blinked. "How'dja know I grew up on a farm?"

Ryan glanced up and down at me. "You've still got a farmers tan. And you just told me."

I rubbed my bare shoulders, suddenly cold in my cut off. "I coulda gotten that here, man, that doesn't mean anything!"

Ryan laughed at me. I couldn't tell if it was a mean laugh or not. It sounded mean. But it really didn't matter. He was hot. I could take a little denigration from a guy like that. "But you didn't."

I huffed. "Yeah alright, whatever, man. At least I look like I've seen the sun. Haven't you seen any movies recently, man? Pasty is out, tanned is in. Gotta look like yer livin'!"

He rolled his eyes. "So you wanna be a movie star."

"Hardly." I shrugged. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind! Can't act for shit though. I'm gonna be a rockstar. Bigger than Morrison and twice as hot."

Ryan looked intrigued. "Morrison, huh?"

"Fuck yeah man, great fuckin' poet, rock STAR to a T, heartthrob...all that shit."

His eyes flicked up and down my outfit. "Where's the concho belt?"

I laughed. "I don't needa be carbon copy, that'd be boring and lame as fuck. Anyway, what are you here for?"

He shrugged, playing with his rings. "Just lookin' to have a good time for the rest of time. Figured what better place than LA."

I grinned and slapped him on the back. "Hell yeah man! Party never fuckin' stops here, it's like heaven."

Ryan half smiled and raised his glass. I hadn't noticed the beers had come. "Cheers."

We clinked glasses, and I drank.

I woke up with a roaring, pounding headache and a mouth drier than a 40-something in a loveless marriage looking at her fat, ugly husband. Which wasn't that weird, until I realized I was in my bed, and it was late afternoon, almost evening. I fumbled around, looking for some shades, trying to block out the too-bright sunlight, and fell out of my bed onto a pile of clothes and shoes. I groaned, and Tripp's footsteps came down the hallway and into my room.

"Jesus, dude, are you okay?"

I tried to say something that would have been, "Yeah man, I'm cool! Just need sunglasses and an Advil and possibly the greasiest cheeseburger known to man," but what came out sounded more like "Urugggggghhhhurnr."

"Man, you look like friggin' hell, lemme call yer boss 'n' tell him yer sicker than a dog and would probably die if you went in." He started out of the room.

"Sunglasses." I finally managed to croak out.

He didn't hear me. I groaned, and crawled back into my bed, pulling the blanket over my head and sending me into mostly darkness. It musta been a hell of a night, since I could barely fuckin' remember it. Except for that guy. Long, dark, messy hair. Dark eyes, perfect lips set in a slight sneer. Tarnished silver rings and piles of necklaces. White open button shirt and black jeans. Black and blue cowboy boots. Heaven's fallen angel, all in black. Ryan. I hadn't gotten his FUCKING number. I buried my face in my pillow. Maybe I'd smother to death and never have to worry about not ever seeing the world's hottest guy ever again.

"Good news man!" Tripp said loudly, walking back into my room. "Yer boss says you don't gotta go in t'day!"

I groaned.

"Bad news is, he says ya can't go in ever again."

Figures.

"It's all cool though man! I can get'cha another job, don't even worry about it. I'm goin' to work 'n' then to Michelle's birthday party. Left some money on the counter if you wanna order yerself something hot like pizza or Chinese food. Noodles are probably yer best bet. I'll be back like, tomorrow morning. Feel better man!"

Tripp left, and I stayed wrapped up in my blanket. Ryan's dark eyes swum in my head. His mean little laugh. I wanted to know that guy. Needed to love him. I was already in love, and it'd only been like 12ish hours.

I dragged myself out of bed as the sun finally sank behind the buildings, the streetlights and corner stores' neon lights flickering on. I shuffled into the bathroom, no shirt, still wearing my pants from the night before. I stared into the mirror. My hair was matted and tangled from the teasing and hairspray and sleeping in it. My skin looked much paler than the day before, but I didn't think much of it, cuz of how fucking SHITTY I felt. Hickies covered my neck, but there were none on my chest. Which struck me as weird, cuz usually when I'm with someone who's gonna give me hickies, they give 'em all over. Not stingy with the lovin'. I turned to look at my back. Covered in scratches.

"Guess we had fuckin' fun." I said to myself.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, pulling out all my money from yesterday (All of it? Hadn't I spent some of it?) and a crumpled up piece of paper. My hands shook as I unfolded it.

268-7886‬. R ☆

Of course he'd have fancy handwriting, perfectly formed cursive letters. I carefully folded it back up and stuck it back in my pocket, along with my cash, and stripped to shower.

The whole time, Ryan's face floated infront of me, his laugh echoing through my head.

I dried my hair, and wrapped the towel around my waist. I didn't feel hungover, but I felt this deep, gnawing hunger itching at my insides. Like when you've had sex for the first time and you want it again. I snatched my pants off the ground and went back to my room, pulling on clean (probably) boxers and grabbing the phone number. I took a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch in the living room, staring down the phone. I cracked it, chugged it, and before I could psych myself out of it, I picked up the phone and dialed.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ryan, it's Lani, you gave me this number yesterday night."

"Oh yeah," Ryan laughed breathily into the phone. "You wanna meet tonight?"

"Sure, where? The club?"

"No." Ryan paused. "Evergreen."

"Evergreen? The cemetery?"

"Mhm. Listen, ah...Lani. I've got to go. I'll see you there tonight. Midnight?"

"I-"

He hung up. I groaned, bashing the receiver into my damp hair.

"FUUUUUCK." I dropped the receiver back on the hook and buried my head in my hands. I had no choice.

It was eleven by the time I finally got the balls to get dressed and go out. I'd left my hair to air dry. Well, mostly air-dry. I blow-dried and hairsprayed my roots for a little of whatever the girls called volume when they did my hair. Found a loose, colorful button up that I half buttoned and didn't tuck in, tight jeans, cowboy boots. Smudged eyeliner that a girl had left behind in the bathroom across my lower lash line. And drank.

The taxi driver dropped me off half a block from the cemetery, like I asked him to. He watched me in the rearview, clearly trying to figure out why I wanted to go to a fuckin' cemetery this time of night, dressed like that. I tipped him extra for keeping his mouth shut. He took off, fast.

I waited til the street was empty and jumped the fence. And prayed it wouldn't take too long to find him.

As heaven would have it, it didn't.

Ryan sat on the steps of the mausoleum overlooking the chapel, wrapped in a tiger-striped fur jacket, cigarette hanging from his long, ringed fingers. He watched me approach like a hunting dog watching a bird. I could have sworn his eyes were yellow.

"Hey," I called.

"Hi." He dragged on his cigarette. "Thought you wouldn't show."

I shrugged and sat next to him. "If I didn't, what would you have done?"

Ryan shrugged and put the cigarette out on the sole of his star-covered platform boots. I studied the stars, red and sliver on black leather. "Dunno. Wanna go in?"

"What, in the mausoleum?"

He smiled at me, teeth glittering like stars in the dark. "Why not? The dead are good at keeping secrets, sunshine."

He stood up and slipped in. I looked up at the starless, black sky, and followed him. It was dark, and the side walls were lined by barred doors, leading to crypts. He turned around, fast, and pushed me up against the marble wall, breath cold against my neck.

"You want this?"

"Yeah."

Ryan licked my neck, and I winced from the pressure on the still sore hickies. His fingers slipped up my half-buttoned shirt, hand pressing against my rapidly beating heart.

"Feel good?"

"Mmhm." I moaned as he kissed my neck, gently, softly. I reached to grab his hip, to pull him closer. He grabbed my wrist and pinned it against the wall above my head. I squirmed a little, not liking the gap he kept between him and me, the cold air on my slightly exposed chest.

"Don't like that, huh?" He teased, tightening his grip on my wrist. His other hand slipped down my shirt, pressing against my hip.

"Man," I whined. "C'mon-"

"Shhh." Ryan pressed his hand against my mouth, muffling my whines. I squirmed, wanting him up against me. He laughed, pulling his hand from my mouth, but letting his index and middle fingers brush against my lower lip. "Suck."

I tentatively licked the tips of his fingers. His teeth and eyes glittered in the dark and I felt my dick twitch. I grabbed his hand, and pushed his fingers into my mouth, licking, sucking, moaning, working them the way I would have worked his dick, lost in it.

With a pop, he pulled his hand out of my mouth, and grabbed my face, smearing my spit all over my cheek.

"You like that, huh? Little slut."

I groaned, and he laughed softly, and kissed up my neck to my mouth. He was barely touching me, and I felt like I was burning up. I could barely think. He kissed me, working his tongue into my mouth, dropping my wrist to grab my hips, pushing me against the wall, and him against me. I moaned into it, twisting one hand into his hair, one around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He pulled away, and I gasped as the cold mausoleum air hit my face and my chest. He watched me breathe heavily. I knew my face was flushed, but I couldn't tell if his was.

"Ditch the shirt."

I licked my lips, wanting to push his buttons. "If you want it gone so bad, you take it off."

"Yeah?" He said softly, with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah."

He moved close to me, hands barely brushing against me, unbuttoning the shirt. "Gonna regret that, sunshine."

"Make me."

He laughed softly, sliding the shirt off my shoulders. I pulled it off the rest of the way and he trailed his fingers down my chest. I breathed heavily.

"Take off my belt."

I knelt on the floor, fumbling with the cold metal and leather of his belt. I found the end of the tongue as his hand tangled in my hair. I looked up at him. His face was obscured by his dark hair and shadows. I pulled it out of his belt loops and felt the buckle open and smiled. He traced circles in my hair. I pulled his belt off, laying it on the ground.

"Keep going," he said.

I undid the top button, trying to keep my touch light. His grip on my hair tightened. I looked up at him.

"Keep going?"

He sucked his breath in quickly. "Yes."

I slowly unzipped his jeans, and he huffed impatiently. I grinned in the dark.

"Don't like that, huh?"

Ryan pulled his hands out of my hair roughly and pulled his dick out of his boxers. I could barely make out the shape in the dark.

"Open." He said, grabbing my hair again.

I did, wrapping one hand over his as he pushed into my mouth. He sighed, tangled his hand deeper in my hair, moaning, pulling on it with every movement. I moved up and down slowly, and he pushed his hips forward into my mouth. My dick twitched in my jeans, but I couldn't think about anything but him.

He groaned, gripping my hair tighter, sliding in and out of my mouth. I moaned as he hit the back of my throat and his hips bucked.

"Oh god. Do that again," He said, breathless.

I moaned again as he hit the back of my throat. He groaned, pounding into my mouth harder and faster.

The tightness in my jeans, him fucking my face, his heavy breathing, the random pretty little moans, was driving me crazy. I gripped his thighs and looked up at him. His hair, shaggy and long, mostly covered his face.

I couldn't think. I closed my eyes again, relaxing my throat as he fucked me. My throat. Whatever. I felt my spit dripping down my chin, falling on my bare chest. He pulled on my hair. I felt him tensing up.

"Lani," He moaned breathlessly. "Lani, I'm close."

I groaned, my dick uncomfortably hard.

"Lani," he whined. "Oh god, Lani, I-"

He moaned, and his dick twitched as he came. I swallowed, and pulled away, wiping my mouth. My knees hurt. He panted above me, one hand on his dick and the other on my chin.

"You looks so good like that," he said. "C'mere."

I stood up slowly, knees hurting, and he pushed against me. He bit my bottom lip, slid his hand up my ribs, resting on my heart.

I moaned as he situated his thigh between my legs, rubbing it against my crotch. I pulled on the front of his jacket, wanting him closer. He smiled against my mouth, rocking his hips against me, and I closed my eyes, moaning into his mouth. I pulled on his hair, wrapped my arm around his neck, grabbed his bare hip.

He pulled away just before I came, and I whined in frustration.

"Shhh, baby," he whispered in my ear, fumbling with my jeans button and zipper. "I'm not gonna let you go that easy."

I panted, squirming as he trailed his fingers over my stomach. "Ryan, please, I need, I-,"

"What'dya need, sunshine?"

I moaned and he scoffed.

"C'mon, use yr words."

"Fuck me," I whined. "Fuck me!"

He kissed me. "Anything you want."

I squirmed as he pulled my jeans and boxers down, the cold air hitting my aching dick.

"Turn around, grab those bars right there and relax."

I did as told, breathing slowly and deeply. He rubbed some lube onto my ass and started to prep me. I moaned as he worked his finger in and out and in and out, adding another, stretching me out. He rubbed my back, telling me how good I was doing, how well I was taking it, how good it was gonna feel. I closed my eyes, letting him, his smell, his voice, his touch, wash over me. I was in heaven in that dark cemetery, about to get fucked by an angel of the night.

I heard a condom wrapper crinkle.  

"I'm gonna take it slow, baby." He kissed my neck as he pushed in slowly.

I moaned.

He grabbed my hip with one hand and jacked me off with the other. While fucking me slowly. I couldn't think, much less comprehend exactly how good his touch felt. The minutes became one continuous moment, nothing existing except for him. His voice. His hips against my ass. His mouth on my neck. His hands on me. Him. Heaven-sent.

He kissed my neck, licked it, moaned into it. His thrusts got more and more rough and uneven, his moans increasing in frequency against my neck. I whined, feeling my orgasm close in on me, unable to keep my eyes open. He bit me as I came, and I screamed. He let go of my dick to grab my throat, keeping me from squirming, my cum warm on his hand, still pounding into my ass as he sucked blood from my neck. And darkness ate away at my vision.

I woke up to a cop shining his flashlight in my eye and a dog's head on my chest. A brindle pitbull. Like home. It was still dark out as the cop roughly escorted me out of the cemetery, grumbling something about the city's "fuckin' bum problem." The dog followed. I flagged a cab, half to prove that I was not a "fuckin' bum" despite missing my shirt, shoes, and my pants being half unbuttoned and half to get home fast. Ryan had disappeared completely, and I felt like hell. Worse than yesterday. Everything about me fuckin' hurt. The dog clambered in the taxi with me, and the cabby didn't bother trying to kick either of us out.

It took forever, but the dog and I got home before Tripp. The dog almost didn't follow me in, but I shoo'ed it inside. No need to get my fuckin' neighbors pissed, they already hated me and Tripp. I didn't bother turning any lights on. The clock said 2:39, and I abandoned my pants on my bedroom floor, practically clawing them off my legs, and curled up on my bed, sweating and shaking. I felt sicker than I ever had and the pain was nearly unbearable.

The dog sat in my doorway, watching me.

"What'chu lookin' at," I groaned. An intense wave of nausea hit me, and I gagged. I stumbled to the bathroom, nearly tripping on the dog's tail on my way, and threw up in the toilet. Lucky shot. Sort of. It was all over my chest too. I groaned and gently banged my head against the wall.

I waited a couple of minutes to make sure nothing more was gonna make a cameo on the bathroom floor, and stripped to shower and rinse my mouth out in one shot. And maybe hurt less.

When I got out, my neck hurt real bad. I touched it. My hand came away red-ish. What the fuck? I patted it with my towel, and the towel came away red too. I stared at it, not comprehending what this meant. Somewhere in the apartment, someone was playing my guitar. I reached to the mirror, to wipe the condensation off, and the realization hit me.

I was home alone and someone was playing my guitar. Incredibly well, but someone was playing it.

I hastily wrapped my towel around my waist and found Ryan, sitting on my bed, playing guitar.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ryan did not look up, continuing to play. "I came home with you, stupid."

"No you didn't," I said. "You ditched me in the cemetery. I woke up with this dog on my chest 'n' it followed me home. You just showed up. Stupid."

"Where's the dog then?"

That was a good question. I stuck my head out of my room and looked around. Tripp's door was locked like it always was, the bathroom was empty, the living room-slash-dining room-slash-kitchen was empty. No dog.

"I don't know." I said, head pounding. "I just wanna go to bed. I feel sick."

Ryan stopped playing and looked at me, raising his eyebrows. "Wonder why."

"What?"

"Nothin'," Ryan rolled his perfect eyes and went back to playing. "Put clothes on 'n' c'mere."

"Weirdo." I grumbled, grabbing a pair of boxers and a shirt from my dresser. "Barely fuckin' know you, 'n' you come into my house, play my fuckin' guitar-"

"You came to my house first, sunshine."

"What? When?" I said, dropping my towel and pulling my boxers on and the shirt over my head.

He rolled his eyes. I stood there, headache beating my brains, trying to piece it all together. Black clothes. Irresistible charm. Midnight. Cemetery. Dog that was there and then gone. Biting my neck.

"Vampires aren't real?" The room was swaying.

Ryan laughed at me. "You sound sure."

I groaned, crawling into my bed and curling up. The world was spinning. Everything hurt, my head most of all.

"It should be really kicking in right now, the venom." Ryan said, playing the most beautiful, melancholic, entrancing melody I'd ever heard. "Your body's trying to reject it, which is why everything hurts so bad right now. Eventually you'll die, probably within the next 4 hours. At around, I dunno, hour 5 of the venom being in your system, you become paralyzed. But you're still awake. You get to feel everything. Your lungs slowly stop working, your blood slowly stop moving, your heart slowly stop beating. It's incredible honestly. Very fascinating to watch."

"Make it stop," I groaned.

"Turn you into a vampire? I don't think so. I'd rather watch you die." He started playing a new song.

"Please, Ryan. Please."

Ryan sighed. "Why should I?"

"I love you," I groaned. "I barely know you but I love you. You're gonna be alone forever. Don't you want someone by your side?"

"You'll stop loving me."

"I won't." I said, struggling to pull myself up so I could sit against the wall. "I never stop loving someone. I love forever. I'll never leave you."

Ryan looked at me in the eye. For the first time, I could see the depth of the darkness in his dark brown eyes.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." I said. "Let me love you. Give me a chance."

He put the guitar down and crawled next to me.

"Why?"

I turned my head to look at him. It hurt. "I think you're holy."

"No you don't."

"I do. I see heaven in you. I feel it in you. You're an angel."

Ryan didn't say anything.

"Ryan. Please. Let me love you. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not angel."

"You are to me."

"That would change."

I closed my eyes. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. "No. It won't."

I heard him sign pointedly. "Wouldn't you rather go to heaven?"

"Heaven doesn't mean anything to me if you're not there."

He inhaled sharply.

"You don't know what you're saying."

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. "Ryan, look at me."

He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Please, look at me." I was desperate, about to cry. "Please, Ryan. Look at me."

He wouldn't.

Hot tears fell onto my shirt. "Ryan, please. I love you."

It hung in the air like a suicide.

"Stop crying." He finally whispered, wiping my tears away. I closed my eyes and leaned against him. Melting into him. Trying to relax.

"Lani, look at me."

I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry. I felt him press something warm and wet against my lips.

"Drink," he said. And I did.

And heaven could never compare.

[theschizotypalsolilquy]

July 14th is the day Jikookers delusions comes to an end. Btw not just jkkrs but all gay shippers. You saw that Explicit version and Red CD ? If it doesn't scream sex Idk what it is. When I told you the other day that it's gonna be an Explicit song you all laughed at me saying JK you all know won't do it. That's true, but there's another JK you all doesn't know. He's gonna show that version here. Ready to cry when he's having one of most sexiest scenes in kpop Mvs ever WITH A WOMAN. You have 2 options: block and laugh at me for saying truth or Be ready with 101 explanations on July 14th, to convince yourself and your followers that JK is gay with a long term bf aka your fav (a member respectively for each shipper), will need a lot of excuses and explanations btw. Best of luck.

I honestly can't tell you how much I don't give a fuck.

Let him go wild in the video, have hot kinky fucking with a woman. I don't give a shit.

You're on the wrong blog if you think I'm gonna bow down and answer to someone who comes in as an anon.

Honey, sweetie, darling...I'm a paranoid schizophrenic sociopath and I have absolutely no fucks to give about what you think. I don't answer to your demands. You seem to be more worked up than I am over this.

Hope the pussy was good for him. Hope he had a wild time filming a fake fuck scene with a chick.

Go bother someone else who gives a fuck. Am I supposed to go sit in a corner and suck my thumb because sex sells? Bitch please. All I care about is his music and him breaking records.

Now excuse me, I've got a fat ass blunt to smoke and a Dramione fic to finish. Scurry on.

[carleighalpha]

Proper High

When Butcher has to make a supply run. He asks {Y/N} to keep the Supe company. She does a damn good job of it.

Rating: M

Word Count: 750

Imagine: Smut

Warnings: Smut, Steamy, Use of Pot.

" Got a run. Need anything?" Butcher asked as he saw that Hughie wasn't in the room. Only Soldier Boy aka Ben at a table taking down a bottle of whiskey and {Y/N}, a dear old friend, currently working on one of her knives.

" More green." {Y/N} said as she rubbed her eyes. She doesn't like being sober in the slightest and Butcher knew that.

" I've also got your list." Butcher said as Ben nodded. He smirked then left. {Y/N} chuckled before continuing on her favorite knife. Ben looked over at the woman. It looked like she had pride in her work as she sharpened the metal.

" Getting bored over there?" {Y/N} asked as Ben perked up a little, wondering what she had planned. The woman smirked as she pulled out a small locker under her desk. She put in the combination and undid the door of it. Ben got up and walked over to see her working on some papers and some leaf.

" Ah, so you make reefers?" He asked as he sat next to her. {Y/N} chuckled at this.

" I make what I call a mind fuck and suck." {Y/N} said with a grin. She pulled a bottle of this waxy looking substance. She carefully put some of the caramel looking wax on the edge of it before placing the precious leaf into the paper. She rolled it and lit the sides to seal it after a quick lick.

" Want to go to space with me?" {Y/N} asked as Ben smirked. The two then proceeded to pass the joint back and forth. The more the two smoked. The more their minds drifted as movements became second thought, emotions became more known and touch was euphoric.

" Never experienced this." Ben said as he felt like a quietness came over his brain.

" I want to feel this forever!" {Y/N} exclaimed as she threw her head back. Her small chuckles grew into a fit as she thought of something hilarious.

" Why do you call this a mind fuck and suck?" Ben asked as {Y/N} looked at him with cloudy eyes.

" Because if you don't fuck on this high, it sucks due to the frustration!" {Y/N} said as Ben smirked. He got up and stood over her.

" I think I can change that." He said with a devilish grin. {Y/N} grinned back and stood up quickly with a lustful smirk. He quickly pulled her into a kiss which she greedily returned. {Y/N}'s tank top was ripped off as she pointed highly at a room.

" Mine's over there." {Y/N} said quickly between kisses. Ben carried her to her room and quickly shut the door. She got on the bed as he got on top of her. Ripping her pants off along with her panties. Just a bra on her. He began quickly kissing down her body before spreading her legs open quickly and began to lick viciously at her wet pussy that called to him. Each lick was heaven to the Supe. {Y/N} moaned quite loudly as the Supe lapped greedily. It wasn't long before she gripped the sheet in pure pleasure.

" Fuck Ben!" {Y/N} said with hasted breath. He got up and removed his shirt and pants quickly as a blur. He lined up quickly and entered her. The burning pleasure didn't stop him as she wrapped her legs around his waist as he went deep with a primal growl. Their highs mixing with one another as they didn't know where one began and the other ended. The heat was intense as the rhythm was too much for the two of them. Growls emitted from Ben as he came deep within her. He quickly pulled out of her as the front door opened. {Y/N} got up and put on a new tank top with some brand new pants.

" Not bad for a proper high!" Ben whispered before grabbing his shirt and pants. {Y/N} left the room with a smirk planted on her face as she saw Butcher with her green.

" I swear you two." Butcher said as {Y/N} came over and grabbed her new stash.

" What I kept him company!" {Y/N} said as Ben came out of her room.

" Her stash does it better." Ben said with a smirk. Butcher just rolled his eyes and wondered why he left them alone in the first place.

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Random HCs I thought of while on Advil

- CPU, because of his name, is very analytical and observant. That, and he's very good at simplifying things in case he needs to (often for the kids when he visits).

- Crash, whenever he gets too emotional or angry, sometimes.. well, crashes. His body legit blue screens, and another Admin has to come and reset him.

- Buffer, Lag, and Ping sometimes have their bodies or voices not match what they're doing in the present moment. Aka buffering/lagging/pinging.

- To rectify the above, CPU often lends some of his power to the three so it doesn't happen as often. Though he does sometimes yank it away from Buffer whenever she annoys him.

- If Abyssal or Umbra aren't careful, when they get too angry, they can start to suck the visible light out of a room.

- Crash and CPU are making an effort to be friends with Antivirus.

- Domain and Forum can what's on the entirety of a website by just a glance. The number of times they've had to stop the gang from interacting with bad websites..

- You know that old lady who you know is always judging you for your choices? That's Cursor.

- Buffer sorta knows that Lag and CPU have a thing going on, but she doesn't speak on it or point it out. When they're ready to tell everyone, she'll be there for them.

- Lil Coding has gotten stuck in the ceiling before. No one knows how.

- Lil Coding, Lily, Bowser Jr. and Sage play 'Kidnap the Princess' once a week or so.

- SMG4 had a heart attack when he heard the music X used to use for WOTFI back in the day. Why? Because Mario used it for WOTFI Jr. between Lily and Lil Coding.

- Mario sometimes has nightmares about the Reset and 4&3 never reverting back to normal.

- Lil Coding enjoys having conversations with Antivirus whenever the Admin is around. The Code considers him a good friend.

- Lily is capable of holding her breath for much longer due to her ancestry, but not too much longer.

- Bob is the uncle you least expect to have, but when he watches over you, you have a hell of a fun time.

- The gang have so many inside jokes about what's happened to them that it baffles anyone who hasn't been included.

- Never get Antivirus, CPU, and Crash mad at you all at once. Remember they are part of the Division that handles punishments. They will team up to make a horrible punishment or something of the sort.

- 3&4 sometimes stiffen or jolt whenever they hear the word 'efficient' or 'efficiency'. A much better reaction than whenever they first exited their Resets, where their first and initial reactions to hearing hose words was to lock up and begin to have a panic attack.

- Domain and Melony sometimes have little coding sessions together so that he can help the demigodess hone her hacking skills for good.

- It's suuuper easy for Forum to fluster Domain. Way too easy. Everyone else struggles with it, but Forum can just say or whisper something and Domain is a blushing mess.

- Everyone kinda forgot that the Hologram Trio are, well, holograms! Because their holograms are solid and they can interact with them. They remembered this when they first met Umbra and Abyssal after the events of The Toxic Ringmaster.

- The amount of money a therapist could make from having sessions with any of them is insane (SMG3 doesn't count because of conflict of interest).

- Buffer and Juliano are aroace buddies.

- Juliano is in friendly contact with most of the Admins, excluding the nastier ones. He's also a sort of mentor/big brother figure to the other Avatars whenever they visit the SM64 universe, but that role is mostly reserved towards Mario.

- CPU does still smoke cigars, but he is cutting back since he's around the kids more often.

- Forum and Domain are the youngest Admins so far and the first and so far only former Guardians to ascend to Admins. All the other Guardians have had preexisting Admins be assigned as their Admins.

- 4&3 have absolutely pulled the "my dad was one of the prototype SMGs!" on some more of the nastier Admins whenever they rear their heads. They aren't ashamed of it.

- God help you if the Guardian System thinks you're doing something you shouldn't be around it. It's such a little shit.

- Abyssal has accidentally walked in on Ping and Umbra a grand total of 5 times. Each time they have gotten progressively more done.

- Lily sometimes goes to the Internet Graveyard with SMG3. The dead memes love her and many of the animal based ones like to follow her around.

- Domain&Forum are very much ship Emulator and Manifest. They aren't really worried about Manifest hurting Emulator in any way because they know she loves their little sister a lot and that Emmy can handle herself if something does end up happening.