#all level 20's showed the fuck up

[retrokid616]

cadusues fucking clay: this is were we start the next graveyard

[softfem-dom]

wedding ring

origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader

a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.

wc : 3k

NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE™ BEHAVIOUR sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader

synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.

If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.

When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.

What was so special about you two, you may ask? You were married and were old enough to be his parents.

It was absolutely not his fault. You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.

You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.

He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.

,,

Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.

You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.

And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.

Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.

And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed —happy to help a cause—.

What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.

The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.

He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.

You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only —possesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.

It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.

After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and —ironically enough— left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.

You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.

Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.

"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.

Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"

As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front —melting him—.

And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.

"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.

Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused —and locked up in his dirty fantasies— that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.

"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christ—"

His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue —damn big hands the Canadian had— and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.

"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.

You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting —as if he wanted someone's hand between them—. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.

"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man —letting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."

Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughn— you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"

His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit —saliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.

You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.

"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-oww—"

Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.

"watch your damn mouth, mouth"

"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with huge—"

His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.

"shut it, bub"

"hmn-nhgh"

"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.

"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"

Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants —and the wet spot.

"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face —as if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"

Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.

"I- aughn- I—" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back —forcing him to behave—. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"

"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."

"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"

That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.

Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.

"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."

Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."

"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."

It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.

You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes —watching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight alone—.

"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"

You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm —slowly going down to his hand—. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.

Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.

"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"

"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"

After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly —almost sensually— slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.

It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.

Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes. Or maybe you won't, who knows.

[autisticbucktommy]

autistic tommy kinard headcanons:

Must wear slippers inside the house at all times, but no socks ever.

Makes the exact same coffee and breakfast every single day (he may change it up, every 7 years or so, if his safe food changes).

Cuts all the tags off his clothes. He only wears cotton or flannel, none of this rayon-polyester blend crap.

He is hypo-sensitive (sensory seeking) when it comes to food. He needs texture, crunch, spice, different flavors. And Buck watches on in horror whenever Tommy makes himself a sandwich and it has at least 4 different sauces, with chips and marshmallows. Buck swears that Tommy blindly chooses ingredients from the fridge and mashes together whatever will fit into his mouth.

He watches the same comfort romcom movies on repeat. He's seen "Love Actually" at least 200 times. It's comforting to play in the background while he does housework.

He hates hates when people bail on plans at the last minute or when they consistently show up late. It makes his skin itch.

He regulates his nervous system mostly through Muay Thai workouts, lifting, etc. but he also meditates every morning to help prevent burnout/meltdowns.

When he's on shift for 24-48 at harbour, his coworkers know to give him a wide birth of space between calls. He needs to carve out alone time or he gets snappy.

His intense feelings about social justice have gotten him in trouble more than once. He's always stepping in if someone is rude to a waiter or if he overhears a racist comment; he sees red and loses it. He's gotten better at handling his temper with age but he's still working on it.

After Buck and him get back together and have some deep talks, Tommy finds himself opening up to his boyfriend in ways he never has with anyone else. Evan quickly becomes his "safe person" who he can depend on when he's in a bad headspace. He gets in the habit of calling Evan's contact number, instead of hiding away and beating himself up over it.

Sometimes Tommy feels like he's vibrating out of his skin and the usual light-stimming (tapping his fingers against his legs, tapping his foot, etc.) isn't enough to tide him over. And so he just looks at Evan with this twinkle in his eye (Evan calls it his big scary monster look) before he attacks Evan with cuteness aggression; tackling him into the couch or bed with feral energy, as he growls and mauls him. Kissing him, squeezing him all over, wrestling him and pinning his arms above his head, and then fucking him, if the mood calls for it.

Buck buys Tommy a shirt that says "autistic and ready to fuck" as a joke gift one year for Christmas and Tommy wears it unironically around the house. And he thinks he's hilarious because sometimes he'll come out of the bedroom wearing it and nothing else, and then crook his finger like "let's do this" and Evan rolls his eyes every time because what a goofball?? What an absolute DORK of a man, he thinks, as he trips over his own feet to follow him like an eager puppy.

Tommy has an oral fixation. he loves eating Buck out. He'll do it for hours if Evan will let him. Tommy will come home from work, put his stuff away, and then he's yanking Evan's pants down and flipping him over and he's got his mouth on him. He loves lazily eating Evan out and he loves controlling if and when Evan can touch himself about it.

Tommy likes being in control in general, but especially in the bedroom. It's incredibly satisfying telling Buck what to do, because he takes it like a dream. So eager to obey, eager to please. And always so good for Tommy, which tickles his brain in the most satisfying way.

Tommy loves tying people up. He's been studying Shibari since his early 20's when he learned about it from one of his buddies in the army. There's something about working with his hands in that way, that puts him in a meditative trance. He's a regular at a few kink-rope events in the city and he will tie up various levels of kinksters who choose to volunteer. 95% of the time it's not sexual for him, unless he's doing it to his own partner. But even then, depending on the person, it can bring them so deep into sub space that he often leaves them (with supervision) to float in that euphoria for an hour or so, before working to untie and massage them; giving them after care and sweet kisses.

His favorite things to collect are work tools, bondage rope, and DVD's (the latter of which Evan relentlessly teases him about).

When he was a kid, Tommy's dad refused to believe the teachers when they suggested Tommy be tested for autism. And he made Tommy's life hell at home because of it. He knew Tommy was different and would do everything he could to try and "fix him", which would often leave young Tommy covered in bruises where other adults couldn't see them. "You can't scare the autism out of a child, but try telling my dad that," Tommy had said to Evan about his dad one day.

When Tommy needed minor surgery in the hospital as a kid, one of the nurses gave him a teddy bear named "Max" and he used to keep it under his pillow to hold when he got scared. Occasionally in adulthood, he'd pull Max out of his closet when he needed something to squeeze extra tight to make him feel better. He hasn't needed Max since Evan walked into his life though. Now he just squeezes Evan and does a happy wiggle under the sheets, nuzzling into the back of his boyfriend's neck with a sappy grin.

[vaspider]

Hi! I’m in my early 20’s and a baby gay and i was wondering if you could help me understand the nuances of a particular issue (or point me towards recourses to find some answers). I’ve heard that as an afab enby i shouldn’t be using the f slur because historically it has been used to attack/demean gay men, but i’ve also seen (mostly on tumblr) a push by the queer community to reclaim the word by any queer identity. I want to be inclusive and intersectional and not insult people to the best of my ability so my question is: can i participate in the reclamation of the f slur or should i leave this word to queer men? (I’m also not clear on wether it’s just cis men, includes trans men/amab folks, etc). You don’t have to answer but thanks for your time regardless!

You can do whatever you want forever.

Seriously, though - whoever is telling you that you can't reclaim a particular slur because that doesn't get used against people like you should come review my history sometime. I've had faggot yelled at me (often out of moving cars or in connection with physical abuse) more times than I can count. They need to talk to Hannah Gadsby, who talks in Nanette about a man who pushed her, thinking she was a faggot and then found out she was a woman, realized she was a "lady faggot" and thus outside his definition of woman and able to be beaten up... so he did.

That kind of "I have decided that people like you haven't been hurt by this so you can't touch this word" cop nonsense is genuinely harmful. We need to bring back the 90s energy of "it takes all of us to take the sting out of a word" where gay men showed up to lesbian marches with "fags for dykes" signs.

This infighting over terms is fucking cop garbage meant to divide us. It's bullshit. If you find strength in calling yourself a fag, a dykefag, a fagdyke, a ladyfag, a girl homo, a lesbo, whatever the fuck, it doesn't fucking matter.

This "no one uses that against people like you" bullshit is just that. Ignore it freely, because it's utter nonsense on many many levels.

[pinacoladaz]

Roommate Sukuna shows you how to play video games!

A sly smile appears on your face when Sukuna arrives from college in the evening and slams the door, noticeably tired.

"You look like shit."

He rolls his eyes and drops the backpack, throwing himself on the individual sofa "I'm not in the mood, bastard"

Seeing Sukuna this tired was, well, abnormal, and he had been like this for a couple of weeks. Student exploitation must have been tough on his career these days.

Seeing him in that state moved something inside you, you almost wanted to hug him and cuddle with him to take the stress off of him, but hey, it was Sukuna, he probably thought that a train above him was a better relaxation technique.

You look back at the TV, thoughtful. "Hmm... well, are you in the mood of teaching me your video games?" you take a quick look at him, not wanting to be obvious in your concern, maybe he could bully you if he noticed "you told me i need to know real games, whatever that means it might put you in the mood to be unbearabl-"

"Charming" he corrects you, then processes what you just said and freaks out, making a face "why do you want me to be, anyway?"

"Why not?" you pause the TV and look at him quietly.

"Why, though?"

"Why not?"

His eye twitches and you sigh in a complaint at his murderous gaze "I am bored Su-ku-na!"

With a grunt he stands up, ruffling your hair on the way to his room. "Give me 20 minutes, i'll take a shower and turn on the PC."

Said and done, he called you 37 minutes later, because if there's one thing Sukuna absolutely has, it's a bad ability to estimate time. He doesn't seem to care, though.

When you enter his room it is a bit messy as usual, he has his back to you leaning over the computer, clicking. His hair is wet and he only has pajama pants on, no shirt; and it makes you wonder if he is aware of how shocking his appearance can be to mortals like you.

"Listen pet, you have a maximum of 20 minutes to learn how to play Fortnite, at that time my friends will call to do a group game, and you will play pretending to be me" he stands up straight and turns to look at you "understood?"

You take a moment to process his stupidity, then scoff "With all intent to offend, are you insan-"

"I'll talk, not you, i just want to know how much you can ridicule me" shrugs bending down to the computer again.

After a while of mutual insults, while you stand beside him he shows you how he plays so you have an idea of the game, which looks pretty crazy.

When you sit on the edge of his knees to do the training level, you are not even halfway through it when he takes you by the waist to make you stand up and moves the chair to take a pillow, putting it on his legs. You raise an eyebrow when he comes close to make you sit again.

"You are as low as a goblin." He explains neutrally, bordering on the line of mockery, screaming internally at God for you to know nothing about the barely concealable erection between those pajamas.

You follow the training, and you do horribly, the high sensitivity of the character is lame, the lack of aim and of the ability to make many movements at once is also lame. Sukuna puts his hands on yours trying to facilitate the learning process, which actually distracts you and does the opposite.

"No no, hold it like this" he leans close to your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder "slower... mhm, yeah"

Even if you made the stupidest of achievements, he would still mutter things.

"You learn fast"

You thank God that you are turning your back on him so he doesn't notice your ridiculous blush, and the most fucked up part is that you don't even notice a malicious note in his tone, it's purely teaching.

There you consider the church your mother mentioned.

Before you notice it it's already time for the group call and you're STRESSED with a big S; in contrast Sukuna sounds amused every time he points out an advice to you "It's just a game, brat, have fun"

"I don't know Ryomen, who will be on the call?"

He stays silent for a moment. "Choso, Yuji and i don't know if Gojo has time, why the concern?" he hits you on the head with his finger "Do you like any of them?"

The audacity.

"Isn't Gojo the one you threatened to kill a while ago? And actually- actually what the fuck! Why do you relate everything with me liking someon-"

The conversation is interrupted by the call notification, Sukuna answers by putting two fingers on your mouth so that you shut up.

After a scandalous greeting and a confirmation of Gojo's participation, the game starts, not even three minutes have passed when they are already throwing shit at Sukuna.

"Why are you so useless? you had it literally in front of you??? what the fuck Sukuna" Although Gojo started out mocking, he ended up insulting him (or you lmao) mercilessly.

"Why are you going to the other side? pick up the box, ASSHOLE!" Yuji was getting anxious, and so did you, Sukuna only made excuses saying that the wifi was weak while pinching you, amused, and Choso said nothing for a while, but at some point finally spoke.

"Bro why are you playing like you're gay."

There was a moment of silence which was broken by the screams of Gojo and Yuji, taking advantage of the moment you made a sign to Sukuna that you gave up.

"Be gentle, dickheads" Sukuna murmurs in a mock taking control of the PC, but without taking you off, his arms simply surrounded you "there's a lady present"

a/n: sorry, i'm really bad at video games, i don't know anything about them, i gave it my all🙏🏻

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

prologue

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 22k+ in progress (prologue 1.8k) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist here

Late September in Texas was more like summer than it was fall. It’s a whopping 90 degrees outside, or so you guess since a thermometer wasn’t on your list of important things to haul around. You just have an inkling that it’s a sunburn passed 89 with the way the Austin sun scorches your skin. 

You’re gradually making your way across the farmlands out west, one cornfield and run-down farmhouse at a time. All of this walking is making your feet get all blistered and bruised and it was beginning to sour your mood. 

Joel notices.

“‘S wrong?” Joel grumbles over his shoulder. 

“Feet are killin’ me. Can we stop or are we gonna hit every farmhouse in Texas first?”

He mumbles something under his breath before coming to an abrupt stop. You slam into his backpack and he swings around, giving you his full attention. 

“Five minutes,” he says, a deep voice scraping the ground. His face is glistening with sweat and his shirt is half unbuttoned so you can see the tufts of hair poking out from his chest. “Then we need to get movin’.”

It makes sense why he’s in a hurry. Neither of you have much food to last more than a day or two, so Joel was very keen on frequent scavenging, grabbing medicine you might need for later, and sustenance.

“Always in such a rush,” you tease, finding a spot to sit on the dirt road. There’s a subtle smirk on your face that’s quickly wiped away when you rub the soles of your feet, careful not to touch your open sores. You hiss at the odd mixture of relief and pain as you knead into your skin.

Joel chews his cheek in thought and then digs through the front pocket of his pack. He leans down so he’s eye level with you, resting his left hand on his knee as he hands you an aged bottle of Neosporin. “Here. Put this on.” 

You notice how his brown eyes shine gold with the way the sun is angled on his face. The salt and pepper threads of his beard are more defined up close. He’s probably in his mid-late forties. You wish you knew, but he never told you anything about himself. Said it was better that way. 

“Thanks.” 

There’s really so much more you want to know about the man you’ve been shacking up with for the last few weeks. You guys didn't even have a label for what you two were to each other–a team? Partners? You didn’t dare entertain anything beyond that, but a label would guarantee that your relationship was something more permanent and you wouldn’t end up alone in this fucked up world. Again.

You hated that about yourself too–your need to latch on to anyone who showed you a sliver of kindness. Sure, Dad always said that building a network of people you can rely on is a survival instinct. There’s some truth to that nowadays. You knew you wouldn’t make it far without someone strong and sturdy like Joel.

Unfortunately, you’re starting to think this little attachment of yours isn't just about survival.

“Guess you’re not so bad after all?” you say, kicking away your inner thoughts and dotting your sores with nearly dried out cream.

“Ain’t all that bad, huh? What about when I saved your life, kid?” There’s a playful lilt to his tone that you pick up on. He’s normally grumbly and annoyed with you, so it’s as loud as a blaring horn if he’s showing you emotion other than grumpiness.

“Hmmm, I guess I can give you credit for that one.” 

He’s still looking at you, a smirk creeping up on his lips as his shoulders jerk in laughter. You remember meeting Joel like it was yesterday. He found you, a month and some change ago, rotting on the side of the road with a bullet planted in your thigh. Pain dug its nasty claws into the wound, twisting it so it spread down to your knees and up to your groin. Death was coming for you, but you clung to life like you were hanging onto the edge of a cliff, sweaty fingers slipping one by one.

“Ain’t lookin’ good for you, darlin’.” 

“Fuckin’ hunters,” you said, grinding your teeth. You’d curse them with your last breath if you had to. 

“Yeah…” 

“You gonna put my lights out? Put me outta my misery?” Sweat stuck to your upper lip and the world looked all fuzzy and white.

There was a quietness as he stared at you, turning your words over a few times behind his dark brown eyes. And then he said, “Naw, kid. I ain’t gonna do that.”

The only thing that kept you tied to this earth was standing right in front of you now, flannel shirt, rugged exterior, a charming Southern accent, and a smolder that lit a flame in your heart.

It’s possible you caught feelings for him simply because he saved your life. Stopped your bleeding, took you to a doc friend of his and had your bullet removed, and he checked in on you on the daily with a simple how you feelin’, darlin’? Ya need anythin’? And when you asked him to stay with you while you slept one night to keep the night terrors at bay, he did. Even though he didn’t know you, and had no obligation to you, he stayed by your side.

Always loyal, reliable–albeit a little grumpy–Joel. 

You healed up in about a week and a half. Then Joel said he was heading west and asked if you wanted to tag along and you said yes, a little too eagerly at that.

Maybe he was lonely and liked having you around. Didn’t look like he had anyone else. You were a talker afterall, always had something to say to fill the dead space. He’d never say much back, he’d just mumble something here or there and you were convinced that you were just talking to the fields at one point.

Now here you are, sores on your feet from traveling twenty miles with him as he hands you Neosporin. Maybe he did care about you in more than a partner sense. It was a false spark of hope that little crush wasn’t all just a fantasy in your head about an older guy who didn’t seem to reciprocate your feelings whatsoever. 

“Looks like there might be a cornershop down the road there, think you can make it to one last stop before we call it for the night?” Joel drawls, standing back up from his crouching position, groaning as his knees pop from the postural shift.

You cock a brow. “Are you gonna make it?”

“Don’t worry about me, darlin’. I’ll be fine.” 

“Uhuh.”

After a few minutes of rest, you and Joel head down to the old corner shop. If you were lucky, maybe you’d find peanut butter or something to curb your cravings. Joel’s palette for scavenged goods was a little more complex: coffee, whiskey, and canned meats. 

The two of you had a system of operation already. Joel would scout the inside, make sure there weren’t any infected in there, and then when the coast was clear he’d wave you in. It was better this way since you weren’t a pro at dealing with infected just yet.

Through the dusty, broken glass shards of the window, you watch Joel pace up and down the aisles with a steady grip on his shotgun. Shoulders tense, brows furrowed, eyes focused. Hunting.

A few moments later, he waves you in.

You find a box of cereal and granola bars in the breakfast aisle. A smirk peels across your face when you find a 14 oz jar of instant coffee. There was a small sense of accomplishment that bubbled within you whenever you found any of his favorite items.

“Can I interest you in Nescafe?” You pronounce the word like Nescoffee, wiggling your brows and feeling proud that you found something he likes. 

“It’s cafe,”  he lectures and you roll your eyes.

“You’re supposed to say thank you!” you hiss. 

“Mmm,” he hums, stepping towards you, his boots thudding on the old, cracked concrete. “Wasn’t even the good stuff back then, but hell, it feels like it's worth an arm ‘n a leg now.”

“Hmmm. I wouldn’t know the difference.” 

It was true, you were five when it all went down, far too young to remember much from the old world, which felt like a blessing at times since that meant you can't miss what you never really had. 

“‘S probably for the best.”

“Sometimes. But other times I think I would have loved to see the world–all this,” you sweep your hand across the shop, “filled with lights. And life. I wanna taste a fresh cup of coffee from a cafe, wanna eat pie at a diner, learn how to drive a car so I can pass my driver’s test, go to school, work. Go on a date.”

You sigh wistfully. “And then maybe get married, have kids…” there’s an image of before that you’ve pieced in your mind based on stories you’ve read, pictures you’ve come across, and what little memory your five year old self retained. “But… none of that can happen now.”

“Damn, you really thought a lotta ‘bout life from before. They ain’t keepin’ you busy back in the QZ.”

“You got to do all that. Even though it’s gone now, at least you had the chance to feel what it was like to really live.”

A flicker of recognition shines in Joel’s eyes, something you could only assume was memories of his past that he was now forced to reflect on. 

“I’m curious to know how old you are now. Did ya get to do all those things?” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze flitting up to Joel. He shifts his focus to the faded Nescafe label, feeling the old sticker with the pad of his thumb. 

The glimmer of nostalgia–of warm memories–recedes as Joel’s eyes go dark. 

You suck your teeth and then smile sarcastically. “I’m gonna guess you’re old enough to be my daddy.” Teasing Joel was becoming a pastime of yours, and you couldn’t help but flirt a little.

He stiffens for a minute, mouth still permanently sculpted into a frown as he tucks the instant coffee into his backpack. “You gonna look for som’ we can eat or ya just gonna stand there lookin’ pretty?” he growls, and you swear you see his eyes flit to your breasts before stomping away.

You purse your lips together, eyes fixed on his broad shoulders before he disappears behind one of the shelves. You snatch a few cans of tuna and peas, muttering grumpy old man under your breath while you do.

“Think I saw a place down the road where we can stay for the night,” the low timbre of his voice echoes from across the shop. 

Your cheeks burn. You loved sleeping near Joel every night. Made you feel protected–safe.

A small, desperate voice in your head silently wishes you’d be sleeping in his arms this time and not across a campfire.

Maybe this time you’ll finally get to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

~~~

Thank you for reading the prologue! I have about 6 chapters out on Ao3 right now for this story.

[chaiwithmybeloved]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader.

Description: Hitting (on) a stranger with a shopping cart was not on your grocery list.

Word count: 1k

The lights in this grocery store are too warm for your liking.

Too warm, too dim. You suppose it goes well with the aesthetic of the brand but it's almost fucking impossible to check the fine print on the imported pistachio spread that you've been holding for the last 15 minutes.

You cannot risk buying something so expensive without knowing when it expires. You grimace at the amount of produce in your cart that's going to cost a chunk of your paycheck and put the jar back on the shelf saying a silent goodbye.

Steering the trolley to the front of the store, the angel on your shoulder scolds you for thinking it was good idea to visit a gourmet grocery store.

In your defense, this place wasn't your first choice either. The regular grocery store was 5 miles closer to your place and handed out amazing discounts too, but—

"You're not going to believe who I saw at S-Mart."

"Was it..." Adjusting the phone between your shoulder and ear, your frowned as the layer of purple nail polish smeared on the skin of your toe. "...your biochem crush?"

Your friend sighs, "I wish. It was your ex-situationship, though. Anyways, I hope you've blocked him..."

Her voice fades and the carpet is stained purple.

No. You couldn't risk running into him, even if that's all you've wanted. So, you drive— 20 minutes out of your way— to be as far as possible from the bittersweet memories of the ice cream isle.

You almost hit someone with your cart. Panic sets inside you. What if it's some rich snob who would set their lawyers on you like a pack of dogs? It wasn't your fault the wheels were wobbly!

"I'm so sorry," you bend quickly, to pick up the fruit that had slipped from their hand. As you stand straight, a pair of formal shoes, khaki pants, a half tucked blue shirt and a loose tie meets your eyes.

"It's alright," the smooth voice has you looking up faster than your brain can process. "No harm done." Thin lips, gentle crook of his nose where a pair of spectacles rest, hiding his beautiful brown, maybe a little tired, eyes.

The devil on your shoulder calls you an embarrassment. You hold out your hand and he takes the apple, adding it to his cart. "Thank you."

A number of wooden carts are arranged before you, each containing different colours and varieties of apples; Fuji, Gala, Honey crisp, Kashmir—

Reaching out for the Granny Smith, you're impressed with how big they are. Instinctively, you smell them: sweet yet tart.

You add one to your shopping cart, eager to go home and taste it. The last batch your vendor had brought were pathetic—

"Excuse me, would you mind picking them out for me. I can't tell the good one's apart." The man asks, showing you his selection. Small and weirdly round with red streaks.

"Calville Blanc?"

He nods, "I've read that they have a high amount of Vitamin C."

You try not to fall on your knees. Beautiful and intelligent? Maybe gourmet grocery stores weren't so bad after all.

"They do," you select a few from the paper bag and replace them with better quality ones. "But if you're looking for Vitamin C, citrus fruits are the best."

He doesn't reply. Not for a whole minute. "My son—"

Oh. OH.

The angel slaps her forehead. You wanted to suck off a married man!

He doesn't have a ring. The devil makes a fair point.

"—doesn't like oranges. Or anything orange flavored. I've been trying to get his Vitamin C levels up."

"Does he like lemonade?" You try to maintain a normal conversation. He looks pretty young to have a child.

"Yeah," The stranger nods. "Will that help?"

You nod and hands rest on the handle of your shopping cart, feeling dirty for lusting after a married man. "It would be more pocket friendly than spending...5,499 ¥— shit, that's pricey."

Great, now he thinks you're broke. Clumsy and broke.

The man laughs and you get a warm feeling in your stomach. "That was my first thought too."

Two of you make it to the check out counter, standing behind an older, definitely richer, woman. Her cart is full, to the brim and the cashier looks like they're in pain.

"How old is he?" You ask. The blond falls for the marketing gimmicks, taking a cartoon keychain off the rack.

"Turns six, soon."

"If he's fond of apples, you could buy regular ones and squeeze some lemon juice on them."

The man nods, "Thank you. He's a picky eater but—"

"Every child is."

"Exactly."

You move ahead in the line and the cashier is relieved to see your minimalist cart.

"You should try Golden Plate on 5th street." A shameless self promotion. "They have customisable kids menu."

"That would make things a lot easier. Apparently, he hates everything nutritious," He sighs. A notification on his phone goes off and you get to see a glimpse of a pink haired child, smiling brightly with a floating tube around under his little chubby arms.

"You seem to know a lot about kids," The man clears his throat, unsure how to phrase his words.

"I know a lot about food," you correct him, looking back. "Sometimes I make meals for my colleague's daughter, so I know how to hide the greens."

The word tumbles right out of his mouth. "How—"

The cashier clicks some buttons. "Your total is..."

It physically hurts you to pull out your wallet and hand over the card. A quick swipe and you're being handed your paper bags.

The cool AC air greets you at the exit doors. Should you wait for him? The stranger has an unfairly gorgeous side profile as he unloads the cart items. You almost smile at the heart eyes the cashier gives him.

He doesn't look your way and you walk towards the parking lot.

The sunset looks prettier, the air seems lighter and like some cheesy sitcom lead, you hope that you get to see him again.

(Spoiler: you do.)

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 4)

Hello! I am so sorry for leaving you all hanging yesterday. Between errands and bingo, I just didn't have the time to get around to it, but I've got you covered today.

As always, thank you all so much for the likes and reblogs on the previous posts. I continue to be blown away and humbled by the response this little project of mine has gotten, so smooches and squeezy-hugs to you all!

And now, to the fics! Enjoy!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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grandma's house by billtheradish (G | 1/1 | 1,232)

Let me tell you a secret about grandma's house.

There is no grandmother, and there is no house. There's no single or set road to get there, and the path doesn't always exist.

Grandma's house isn't a place. It isn't a thing. Grandma's house is a concept.

It's risk. It's reward.

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tell me we're dead and i'll love you even more series by hoars (2 works | E | 4,050)

The link between wolves and red is the link between madness and human mates.

1. Red is a Madness (E | 1/1 | 2,065) “Kill her, kill her!” Allison shrieks over and over. Her mother’s face only has time to show betrayal before the pack descends on her. All the werewolves ripping chunks of Victoria Argent from her bones. The other hunters shouting in confusion and horror because now the ground is level. Before the pack ran and didn’t engage. Now the hunters run, the ‘wolves tearing them all apart and she’s viciously glad, wants them all to die for daring to take what’s hers. (companion to Red is Vicious) 2. Red is Vicious (E | 1/1 | 1,985) Or that’s how the story supposedly goes. Derek doesn’t know for sure. It’s the lesson that the story teaches that’s important: human mates are /dangerous/. (companion to Red is a Madness)

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ticket for littering by kellifer_fic (M | 1/1 | 7,607)

Stiles is totally ready for his life to stop being a horror movie and start being a romcom. This... isn't exactly what he had in mind.

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as if he were the sun by impossiblespark (T | 1/1 | 9,202)

“Scott, I told you, I’m- oh.” Stiles cuts himself off when he opens his eyes and turns to find Derek standing by his open window, brows furrowed dangerously, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

His breath catches painfully somewhere in his throat.

He winces almost imperceptibly as he struggles to sit up. Derek still catches it, and his eyes flash red.

His fucking life.

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Sheriff Noah Stilinski by DearDaisy (Scribblesnpaws) (G | 1/1 | 9,411)

Sheriff Noah Stilinki knows about werewolves and his son lying to him.

He may not be the best father, but he would do everything in his power to keep his son safe.

It’s time he found out more.

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love always wakes the dragon by hoars (E | 1/1 | 11,225)

“If you could only protect one person, who would it be?”

“Derek.”

“What would you do to keep him alive? What would you give up?”

“Anything. Everything.”

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First Impressions Are Overrated by Leslie_Knope (T | 1/1 | 14,634)

In Stiles’ defense, he didn’t deliberately ram his grocery cart into the (evidently precarious) pyramid of oranges.

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Hold the Door by Hatteress (goddammitstacey), maichan808 (maichan) (T | 1/1 | 16,700)

When Derek is killed by a rival alpha, the pack will stop at nothing to get him back. Even if that means blackmailing the most dangerous hunter duo this side of hell. Whatever. That whole devil thing was probably totally exaggerated, anyway.

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Spark, Smolder, Catch by qthelights (E | 1/1 | 18,347)

When Stiles starts pulling down Derek's burnt-out house, Derek finds himself letting him. He doesn't know why.

Wherein Stiles and Derek are both broken and doing more damage might just be what they both need to move on.

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here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain (T | 1/1 | 22,322)

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

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Shadows in the Room by peacensafety (M | 2/2 | 23,279)

Laura and Derek are twins. They get along together wonderfully until puberty and Laura's new best friend, a boy with the improbable name of Stiles Stilinski, gets in the way.

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Hide Of A Life War by Etharei (E | 1/1 | 26,105)

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...”

The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

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Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain (T | 1/1 | 35,197)

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

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When You're Close I Feel the Sparks by Leslie_Knope (M | 4/4 | 39,671)

The guy is hot as hell, sure—leather jacket and glasses, Jesus, be still Stiles' poor, bisexual, beating heart—but more importantly, it must really suck being new on the first day of senior year.

“We’re adopting him,” he decides, tugging Scott and Kira by the elbow in that direction. “Let’s go.”

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Valhalla series by peacensafety (3 works | M | 60,986)

1. Weak and Powerless (M | 18/18 | 55,585) Stiles has to remember part of his past that he would really like to ignore until it went away, thank you very much. If people would just let him keep ignoring it, it would be great. Now that there's an Alpha pack, and secret agents, and his dad is keeping secrets from him, and why exactly is Derek hanging around so much now? Ignoring it is going to be just impossible to do. Thank God his shrink lets him have as much anti-anxiety medication as he wants. 2. Viewpoint (M | 1/1 | 2,882) This series started because of the Teen Wolf fanfic contest. Since I didn't win, I figured I'd post what I wrote for it. 3. When the Levee Breaks (M | 1/1 | 2,519) or How Thor Got His Groove Back

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I've Been Everywhere With You by Leslie_Knope (E | 10/10 | 61,551)

“Dude, you should totally come with me.”

“What? Like on the road trip?"

“No, come with me. To Austin. Get out of Beacon Hills.”

Derek paused. “What?” he asked again.

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The Boy who Fought with Wolves series by Onlymystory (10 works | T-E | 64,547)

Tin here. For some reason, Tumblr is giving me absolute hell about including any of the individual story summaries here, so I'm just to going to give you a little info about the series and hopefully you'll check them all out:

The series contains 10 (mostly) unrelated stories that are all about different verariations of a BAMF!Stiles. You get a little dash of "Stiles is secretly a former hunter" action in there, a little bit of Stiles as the Second to Derek's Alpha, and a heaping dollop of other!Stiles as well. It's a fun series with some interesting concepts and world building, and I often revisit this series when I'm craving some badass Stiles Stilinski vibes.

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This Is My Kingdom Come by Salomonderiel (M | 4/4 | 64,875)

By the time he’d hit his 17th birthday, he’d sorted his life out. It came down to this: His name was Stiles Stilinski. He was the son of the Sheriff and his wife, deceased, and his best friend was Scott McCall, an ex-asthmatic werewolf with a nurse mother and an absent father. He was the cleverest in his class, after the strawberry blonde he had a crush on, and he had been diagnosed with ADHD at the age of seven. On full moons, he ran around and cooked for the local pack of werewolves. And he was a demon changeling.

Stiles has managed to avoid Hell and its natives for near 16 years. He's almost managed to fool himself he's human. And best friend who smells of wet dog or not, he thinks he'd got a pretty good deal with this second chance at a life, and is planning to stick with it. But, unknown to Stiles, the new king of Hell has other ideas...

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Family Seasons by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior (T | 7/7 | 68,904)

Derek doesn't really want a family, but when he's left with three kids he doesn't have a lot of options otherwise.

Of course, there's always Stiles...

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The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (E | 12/12 | 83,974)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

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[rhiaghostriley]

Hey, you've been asking for requests, so here's what I'm craving to read and perhaps you like it :)

I'm so tired of stories where reader is super young (like, 20?) and Ghost is doing everything for her, to the point where she's barely allowed to even pay her own bills or leave the house on her own or whatever. And of course she's absolutely submissive in bed too.

Nothing wrong with that, but I'm a grown ass woman in my 30's who proudly handles her own shit, so I can't really relate. Where are the stories with an independent af reader who can be strong for Simon if necessary? Who is close to his age, with her own life experiences and the baggage that comes with it and who wants a relationship on eye level with him, who can take the lead if he struggles to adapt to civilian life when he's on leave and so on. You catch my drift ;)

I gotcha ;) I hope I understood what you wanted and that you like it.

A bit of slice of life, no drama for once, just love <3

Simon is the impersonation of strength. Independance. Invulnerability. This man needs no one's help, not a weak spot in his 6'3 ft and 220 pounds of muscle persona. Always mumbling something along the lines of "Got it covered" when someone offers to do something for him. Little did they know...

So obviously, when Simon ended injured after a mission, right arm and left leg broken - who would have thought that jumping out of a second floor window could be dangerous ? Not Simon - the whole team showed up at the hospital, ready to put some sense into his thick skull and explain him that no, he can't just refuse any help when he can barely go piss alone.

That's how you found yourself in Simon's hospital room, standing in front of three military men - probably his team, you never meet them before - eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Walking toward the guy in the middle - a mohawk and arms like your thighs, must be Soap - you smile widely and hold your hand out.

"Hi, Simon told me you would probably come. Johnny, I presume ?"

Simon's gruff voice can be heard in the background, even more slurred than usual due to the painkillers. "Told ya got it all covered..."

The first one to regain his composure is Price, taking your hand in his and shaking it gently. "Hello ma'am, I am Captain Price. You can call me John." Then Gaz chimes in, shaking your hand too, and nudging Soap's shoulder to bring him back to life.

With a polite smile, you ackowledge the three men and get back to Simon's side.

"I'm going to go to your place, Riley needs to be fed and taken out. Your landlord called me this morning about the renovations, but I told him it would have to wait. And I picked up the mail, a few things that need to be handled, but nothing you have to worry about. Bills mostly." You stop, just to put a kiss on his forehead, and wink at him with a smile. "I got it covered, yeah ?" He smiles back - a small one but rare enough so you know it means a lot - and nod. "Yeah, as usual."

You nod back, and wave everyone goodbye before you leave. It only takes a few seconds after you left for you to finally hear Soap's voice as he shouts "What in the actual fuck ?!" eliciting barks of laughters among his teammates.

Yes, little did they know. Little did they know that Simon has never been alone. That you were always here for him, making sure that his place is clean and he has something to eat without having to cook when he comes back from deployments. That Riley doesn't suffer his absence too much. That mundane things are handled. That he feels loved, supported. That he has a home and not just a house.

Little did they know that "I got it covered" in fact means "I have someone taking care of me". That refusing other people's help doesn't mean he is invulnerable, but just that he knows that if he needs something, you'll have his back, without him even having to ask. Because that's what a partner does, right ?

A little after you left, Price, Soap and Gaz are gently asked to get back to base and take care of what you can't do. Job related stuff. That's where they can help. And they'll happily oblige, even more so now that they are reassured, knowing that Simon is not alone. He can't cook, he can't walk, will need help showering for a few weeks, and someone to take care of Riley ?

You got it covered.

[drxsxull22]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Wayne Mccullough x reader

(characters are of age not minors)

_____________________________________

It had been a month since me and Wayne had been on the run. All because of the car his father wanted him to have. We had little money and no memories of sleeping in comfortable areas. So this motel was the least of our problems, it would be better than sleeping under a sheet of metal or a tent.

"Room for two please". I ask the receptionist.

She reached behind her then slowly handed us a key.

"Room 15, just down there". Her old voice croaked.

We followed the direction her frail finger pointed, passing all different rooms.

12, 13, 14...

"This is it". I say while turning the key in the lock.

And we both freeze.

One bed.

How were we supposed to share a bed. It would be awkward.

"It's better than nothing, I can always sleep on the floor". He says while walking in.

I follow and drop my backpack by the bedside table, taking a peek around.

It was clean, tidy. The white sheets looked washed. I could get definitely get comfy.

It had a small bathroom and a mini fridge on top of the drawers by the door.

"Cool". I say while opening the mini fridge. It was empty. I sigh.

_____________________________________

Wayne sits motionless on the bed whilst I pace back and forth peeking out of the closed curtains. The sun had gone down.

"So, uh...".

"This car, its in florida?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure". He replies.

"Your pretty sure?". I raise a brow.

"But, you know where we're going right?, like you have an address?". I cross my arms.

"Well, the city, or town, yeah". He shrugs.

I pause. "I gotta go to the bathroom". I grab my backpack, walk in and close the door with no other questions.

I run the cold tap, and wash the refreshing water over my tired face.

Patting gently with a towel then searching through my bag.

"Shit" I exclaim.

I had forgot a bra. As stupid as it sounds.

The night Wayne came to get me. I rushed as fast as could. I must have not packed one.

The air-conditioning was fucked. It was 20° outside. And I couldn't think of anything worse than sleeping in my hoodie and not getting any sleep. Or waking up in the middle of the night and not getting back.

There was only one other option.

I take my hoodie off, and notice that my chest is slightly visible but only a little.

"Stay where you are". I yell out to Wayne.

I open the door, bringing my arms up to my chest then go to turn the lamp off.

Wayne is already setting a pillow on the ground next to the bed.

I walk slowly over to the bed, and crawl under the covers.

Laying there for a few minutes, Wayne breaks the silence.

"Y/n, I think you should stay".

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I just think that if you want to stay, you should stay" he says.

I raise in the bed confused.

"Did you find the bus ticket?" I ask.

"Yeah".

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to take you away. But after seeing your father act like a dick to you. I couldn't leave you behind". He said.

He sounded so sincere when he talked. Like he actually cared.

"Anyway I'd bett-".

"Come up here". I interrupt.

"What?". He asked.

"Stay....I mean, come to bed".

He raised to his feet and I placed my head down on the pillow.

He got under the covers.

I was surprised he wasn't warm. Though he was wearing the same grey tshirt he had under his hoodie.

"My dad wasn't always a dick, there was a time when he was, well, not such an asshole as his now. That was before my mom died. He loved her. He loved me. He treats my brothers the same. But he was different. And if he goes. I've got nobody".

"You have now though, right?". His quiet tone asks.

I turn away putting on the bedside lamp. Then turn back to face him. Not saying anything. Just looking.

The silence built. Then his hand came up to my cheek. Brushing the stray hair that dangled infront of my eyes.

I bring my face down to his level. Slowly I lock my lips onto his.

His reaction wasn't visible. He didn't show any sign of pulling away. Only seeming to want more.

He slipped his hand at the back of my neck kissing my jaw then my jugular.

I felt my heart pound. His hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his lap.

Giving himself easier access to every inch of my upper half.

"Tell me to stop". He breathed.

"No".

I gripped onto his dark hair. Kissing harder.

He noticed the translucency of my top and I could feel his jeans growing stiffer by the second, which caused me to move.

He groaned. Sliding a hand up my back, then down to the hem of my camisole.

He looked at me for consent, to which I just nodded.

From there he began lifting my top up and over my head. His fingers tickled my spine as they danced lower and lower to the bottom rim of my jeans.

Then in a swift motion he rolled me onto my back and kissed down my chest.

"Is this ok?". He asks quietly.

"Mhm". I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

He pulls back, reaching both arms over and removing his tshirt.

Then he goes for the button on my jeans.

Slowly unbuttoning them and sliding them down my legs.

"Are you sure, if you don't want to, tell me". He looked up me through puppy eyes.

"I want it, please Wayne".

The fact that he asked consent made me want him even more.

He got down at the end of the bed. I knew what was coming.

And it only made my excitement go through the roof.

"I'll be gentle". He pulled my underwear off.

He hooked his arms under my legs, pulling them apart for his eyes to linger.

"You're so pretty". He kisses my inner thigh.

His soft kisses trailed higher and higher. Until he was right where I wanted him to be.

I swallow hard when his strong grip pulled me closer.

"Mmmm" his groans shot through me.

His tongue wouldn't stop. It kept grazing my core.

"Fuck". I writhed under his grasp.

For such a quiet boy, he surely wasn't shy when it came to giving pleasure.

Gentle was an understatement. He grew more rougher and needy as he licked deeper.

I could feel my stomach tighten. And I gripped his soft dark hair, pulling lightly.

"I'm close".

I came closer and closer until I reached the climax I long waited for.

I thought he would pull away. But he didn't.

He didn't stop. His tongue kept a steady pace inside of me.

His eyes were shut, like he was sinking into a trance he didn't realise he was in.

"Wayne...wait" I stutter.

He brought his arm up and across my hips. Guarding my movement.

He couldn't help himself, he kept at it.

I could feel the overstimulation hit. And I couldn't take it anymore.

There was so much pleasure yet so much pain. It was all too much to handle.

His tongue wraps around my clit causing me to jolt.

But his strong arm kept me down.

"I cant-please...ah!".

He looks up at me.

"Just a little longer". He pleaded.

As much as It hurt, I didn't want him to stop.

He dipped his head back down and went back to it.

I felt the same tight sensation, this time it was enhanced.

I arched my back as I came for the second time.

He kissed my thigh once more, then pulled back.

My legs went sloppy, like honestly, I couldn't feel them.

He took off his jeans and boxers, then climbed on top.

"Wayne".

"Yeah?" He asks softly.

"I haven't, done this before" I confess.

"Neither have i" he replies.

Which leads me to believe he's lying.

"You sure?" I raise a brow.

"I mean you did just go down on me like you've done it before so-".

"I promise" he laughs.

"And this time I'll be gentle, I promise that too". He kisses me softly.

He slowly entered me which I slightly tensed at the pain.

He rested his hands on each side of my head. His fingers playing with my hair which relaxed me.

And slowly he started to move.

"Ah, fuck Wayne" I whine.

"Am I hurting you?" He asks worried.

"No, it just, feels good" my cheeks flush red.

He tucks his head into my neck breathing hot heavy breaths while pressing open mouth kisses on my beating pulse.

I ran my fingers through his hair, and in return he whimpered slightly.

"God Y/n, I love you so much" He exclaimed.

I was surprised. I wouldn't have thought he felt the same. But he did.

My moans were a signal for him to speed up. And that he did. Gradually he went faster.

I felt his hand come down from the side of my head. And he gripped onto my thigh, tilting me slightly.

I screamed when he hit the right spot.

He took notice and continued to hit it over and over until were both near. And we could feel it.

And in an instant we both came together.

I drew a sharp breath when he pulled out. I was so sensitive and sore it was almost hard to move.

But he noticed how worn out I looked and comforted me. Wiping the sweaty strands out of my face then cradling me close.

"I love you too".

He looked down at me completely in awe.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes".

I kiss him.

We lay there for a minute or two. I realised.

"Fuck!" My eyes widen.

"What" he asked curiously.

"You didn't pull out of me. You came in me!!". I shout, jumping out of bed then speedily get dressed.

"Shit, Y/n im-".

"No time Wayne. We gotta go".

"Where?".

"To get the fucking after pill". I give him an obvious look. Which I know I shouldn't have.

It wasn't his fault. It was our first time. But still the amount of times parents warn their kids about safe sex and the first time gets fucked up.

He got out of bed and got dressed.

Once we were complete, I ran out the door and he followed.

It was way too early for a baby.

Could you imagine?.

A little baby Wayne Jr. Sounds cute when I think about it.

Maybe someday.

[blingblong55]

✨Hello✨ I would like some Headcannons of 141 + könig with a gen z reader who's on the older side (like, 20-25) at first they were besties with soap, but then they became good friends with everyone. They are one of the very few people who can bother the shit out of ghost and live to tell the tale. All of 141 and könig have had their nails painted/makeup done by reader, and once a week AT LEAST, reader and the 141 + könig have a ✨ s p a d a y ✨ face mask, manicures, pedicures, you name it and the reader, 141 + könig have probably done it. Reader is also ver affectionate. Their name can be whatever you want it to be. Have a good day/night, eat, drink water, and don't overwork yourself or I'll find you and hit you with a steel frying pan. Love ya 😁

I love the way you show your love for me!!

Material Girl- 141+König

Not a proper hc...I think (idk my brain isn't braining rn)

Gn!reader! Smut at the end so warning!!

It's been forever since you arrived at base. 141, mainly Ghost nicknamed you rooks, short for rookie, also short like you. "Sergeant rooks, get over here." "rooks you sure 'bout this?" "Hey rooks, wanna hang out" god did it exhaust you, but it was all banter. Nothing more.

Soap soon after you had arrived at base became your best friend, only friend in the eye of others. He knew almost everything of the tiny rookie that had become his friend. Price didn't get it at first. How someone so smart as you had befriended his Scott soldier. But soon after seeing you and him explode different things around base he understood, "not about the level of knowledge but by how dumb they both are." It took 5 months for them all to be open to you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ghost...ghost...heeeeyyyyy ghooossstttt" you whispered yelled (does that make sense? hope it does)

"yes rooks?" His voice hinting at his frustration.

You jumped from behind and made him jump. "Just wanting to see if you were still alive" "3 laps around base, go"

----

And after much fight, he got used to you. Always making extra coffee for the days he knew you'd be around the most. He felt like a teacher with you and soap around. "If you do that, don't ya think it'll explode" then he saw your wheels turn. "that'll be awesome!"

----

"fuck off Janet. im not goin to your fucking baby shower?"

"Who the fucks is that sergeant?"

Man did you annoy him with quotes from tiktok, but he loved how every time you would laugh at literal dark jokes, others would consider a sigh of a mental illness. "Die bitch...dieeee!!" You said as he killed a spider. He soon chased you with it. And as always you cried a little.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When the team found you stressed after a mission, they asked soap what a day off in your life looked like. "They better thank us for this." Price sighed as he, ghost and König prepared the common room to seem like a comfy living space.

"Ghost, you're next..what color would you like?" you looked up at him, annoyance leaked from his eyes. "Black..all black" You look around your kit, "I have glittery black? will that work?" your curious eyes starring at his, "fine" he responded. Gaz took pictures and sent them to the group chat, the same one he left because of your stupid daily memes.

"This is worse than torture."

"Do you or do you not feel bonita?" you smiled as you carefully painted his nails. He hesitated, "I feel bonita" . "Wonderful because you look Bonita!" you squealed, your hands cheerfully in the air.

Then it was König's turn, "nails or makeup mister?" you kindly asked. "pick makeup, their skin care routine after the removal makes your skin so smooth." gaz said as he caressed his own face. "Makeup, but just do my eyes please, ja?" You understood why his request was so odd, but you complied. Once you did his eyes: "gosh you look prettier than me, König!" he blushed at your comment. "Lift your mask, and I'll do your lips, want to see how pretty this shade will look on my pretty boy." you made way as he lifted his mask, "Pretty, pretty lips" his smile giving him away.

"Price?" "m'fine with the nails, thanks"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was a Wednesday night, that you and the team designated for spa days. You bought them those soft hair bands with different shapes and colors. Ghost and König agreed on wearing surgical masks just for this activity. All of the tough soldiers reclined on sofas as you went around and applied face masks and cucumber for aesthetics. ----

Soap enjoyed how your hands would massage his hair. It was something you had mentioned, when he applied black war paint on his hair and you gasped. "If you want hair masks just ask Johnny! don't gotta kill me with this!" you exclaimed on the field.

----

They all had robes on, you even ordered those foot massager machines for them. And when you were done with their masks, you would lay on the floor with pillows around. You read, and sprayed the room with different aromas. Sometimes when you felt hippie enough you would walk around with incense.

----

It was the only time you went around taking pictures, they soon found out because you accidentally airdropped one to Gaz, who made it his profile on the group chat.

----

"it smells horrible" ghost would say, "shh im cleansing you honey" your calm voice making him more scared, what if you accidentally lit him on fire, something that soap had done to gaz when he too felt like a hippie.

"thank you hase (bunny)" König would always keep you close when this whole thing was happening, his excuse was that your body heat was comfortable to him, in reality, he just needed an excuse to have you near.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was a routine that you had created with them. For Ghost and König, you always spent the nights with either of them, you would stay up and wait until they needed you. Hugs from these two were the best. Soldiers stared and they would give them 'the' look. (you comment on this..I kill what you love)

"König it's time for hugs!" you jumped and he catched you, your head on his chest, "You are kind mein König," you used that only when he needed to be brought back after a tough mission.

----

Soap and you had physical touch as love language, so showing him your affection was easy. You'd give his hands a squeeze or rubbed his shoulders and this man would just stand there, taking all the affection you could give. Sometimes it was him who would hug you so tight, you thought you might pass out.

"too much love" you would remind him. "m'sorry, felt like giving it all today" he would chuckle.

----

Price was different, this man needed affection when having smoke competitions.

"learned this one on tiktok," you inhaled and perfect circle flew around. "S'good, getting better." He would stare in amusement as the circle of smoke disappeared. But at times he did need a hug. So when the day needed a little snuggle, he would approach you. "Feeling a little cold today, you?" and you would just hug him tight. "Do you feel my love?" you smiled as your face was deep in his man boobs (man am I a whore for man boobs..so squishy and shit)

----

Gaz needed affection in fun ways. So every morning you would send him memes, or tease him about something. "S'not funny." "My uncle broke his neck tap-dancing once." and back to giggles it was. At times since you and him were somewhat the same age, you'd send tiktoks to one another.

"Gaz can you serve" He would pose and you'd laugh, "no like serve your country" and he'd salute. "Fucks sake was that." ghost would whisper to Price. "Maybe if we don't move, they won't notice us."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(please tell me this is what you meant when you said "done it" cuz if not,,,them im putting myself on blast here)

NSWF(kinda) MINORS DNI!!!

MANHANDLED im telling you!!!

These man were starving for some sex. So when the opportunity rose, you as a decent person, homie hopped. (I would too, so no shame here)

It first started with Ghost, then König. Then the two men with you(yes..threesome bc we only live once). Soap would probably find the three of you fucking. It would be on accident though. He was walking around base when he heard you scream, and when he opened the door you were in between the two big men.

After a week of witnessing the naked horrors of his superior and friends he would talk to you. "I was tempted." you confessed. "Mind doing me next?" he bluntly said. "I mean, would you be up for it?" "Now? or later?" he looked at you, soon later it was you and him and the same room he had caught you in.

Then like a good father and son, price and gaz shared you. And I mean SHARED. You didn't hesitate, mainly because you had a thing for gaz since the beginning, but price was more of a fantasy that turned real.

It took a little bit of convincing, and a lot of drinking and smoking (green plant activities ) to be in the presence on them all.

Gang bang? anyone? Anyways, it was a sworn secret that was called a one time thing. But after the 3rd time of the one time thing it was just a team building exercise for sure. (monthly so you would be able to walk properly)However after every mission Ghost and König would fuck the anger off of their system. Price understood why you wouldn't be able to make it to some training days, those were also the days he had fun with "excuse or not you better pay your debt"

tags: @g4y-gr3ml1n

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

A/N: please tell me you understood why the title is that?

[michirukaioureincarnate]

Bike Ride on the Sea Side

Haruka Tenoh x Reader Oneshot - cont. in Body Pillow (smut)

Fandom: Sailor Moon Pairing: Haruka Tenoh x reader | Sailor Uranus x reader Genre(s): Fluff 𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭 | NSFW 𖹭𖹭 | Angst 𖹭 Theme(s): secure x avoidant | confession | first kiss Warning(s): Swearing Summary: You were under the impression that Haruka enjoyed your company and liked you over the past two dates. The constant texting after you unexpected meet-cute really made you believe things could go somewhere with them. But the two-week dry spell between you two had you believing otherwise. It's a shame because you really, really liked them. Reading Stats: 5000 words | 20 min read Disclaimer: All characters are consenting adults | Aged 21+

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────────── A/n: okay the genre and theme is so ??? but GIVE ME A FUMKIN MINUTE I'm trynna make this idea work please fkjahjfskh it's been on my mind for a while now also kinda coping with the drama an avoidant ex-situationship put me in and now she's coming back wanting a shot with me again even though SHE HAS A MONOGAMOUS GF Y'ALL I- 👁️👄👁️ ─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────

⋅ ⛢ ⋅

It's not like you were sitting around waiting for Haruka to text you. You weren't one to chase anyone or anything if reasonable efforts did not yield expected results. One could say you were too logical and unromantic.

"It's about the chase, Y/N!" your best friend insisted. "How is Haruka supposed to know you like them at all?"

You narrowed your eyes at her. "You know me, okay? I'm literally a shameless and open book." A small huff followed as you glared at your phone on the coffee table. "Besides...I asked them last week if everything was okay. They brushed me off, so why bother?"

"Show it to me," she demanded as she crossed her legs on the couch. She held her hand out and gestured for the phone, and you complied. Peering over her shoulder, you watched her read.

Y/N: Hey, it's been a while since we last talked properly. There's no pressure to reply, I'm just checking in to see if you're alright. Been thinking about you. Just let me know if you need space or anything, yeah? I'm not really sure about what to think or feel right now. 8:51 PM

Haruka: Thanks for checking in :) I'm fine, just caught up with work. Text you soon. 8:53 PM

Y/N: Sure thing! 9:00 PM

"They replied fast," she says curiously.

"A week ago."

She grins at you mischievously. "And does that bother the sensible and unromantic Y/N?"

"Pfft," you scoff. "No, I just don't like false expectations. If they don't wanna text me, they should just say it."

"Yeah, well, no one's as brave as you are," she sighed. "This isn't the first time you've been potentially ghosted."

Hearing it out loud kind of stung. It always did, and it would pass in a few hours before. This time, though, it lingered.

You'd never liked anyone like this before.

Still, you couldn't just ignore the lack of open and consistent communication for the chemistry over two dinners. Even though you didn't entirely dismiss the texting, it was still platonic and surface-level compared to in-person hang outs. And now there were barely any texts to go on.

Snatching your phone back, you tossed it into the pillows on the adjacent armchair and grabbed the remote to open up Netflix on the flatscreen TV.

We don't know each other enough, you consoled yourself internally as your friend settled on a horror movie. They're just some random person you bumped into in a bar of all places. You wanted to meet your soulmate in a library.

No sooner had you thought it did another helpless musing begin to haunt you.

They're so fucking hot, though.

It wasn't just the way they looked, although those dark and brooding eyes would hold you captive with a mere glance any day. You'd been around plenty of attractive people in your life and been approach by some of them as well; but the way people looked never fazed you. Instead, it was their energy and aura that drew you in.

The way Haruka carried themselves was admirable. Was it the straight-back posture? The calculating eyes atop an easy-going smile? Or the sense of purpose that surrounded them with every step taken or every spoken word? Haruka always seemed so certain of things and never missed the opportunity to take action, and you liked that.

It would explain why it felt that they were withdrawing from you. Haruka wasn't acting like they were sure about you anymore. It sucked because, for once in your life, you were sure about someone.

In all your past relationships, you'd always entertained uncertainties and potential in hopes of it blossoming eventually. It was enough that you liked them. But this time, you really wanted to take your time and figure Haruka out regardless of attraction.

"Ugh," you muttered softly as the first jump scare snapped you out of the ruminating, and your best friend's deathly clutch upon your arm left no room for your attention to drift away.

⋅ ⛢ ⋅

You woke up to a loud knock from somewhere. The horror movie had long ended, and your best friend was draped over your lap with drool dripping onto your thigh from the corner of her mouth.

She really has no shame, you think endearingly while carefully sliding out from under her. You throw the blanket over her completely, almost about to tuck her in when another louder knock takes you by surprise.

"What the fuck," you muttered, straining your ear for to locate the source. It sounded way too close for comfort. Your 1 + 1 apartment was too small for an intruder to hide in, so the only logical source was the windows.

You didn't want to go near them. Even though you were on the third floor, you didn't underestimate a stalker's ability to scale the wall for something they'd want bad enough.

The sight of a small rock knocking off your window-pane confirmed your suspicions, and you grabbed your phone to call the police only to notice that it was dead.

With no choice but to face the situation head on, you mustered the courage to confront whoever was out there. You were mentally prepared to scream bloody murder with no regard for your neighbors if it meant driving away the culprit.

Marching over to the window, you looked down into the front yard of the apartment to find a hooded figure looking up.

Right. At. You.

You threw the window open, fully prepared to screech until a lock of fair hair caught the glint of the moonlight. Your heart skipped a beat, and you watched as the figure pushed the hood off their head.

A pair of warm eyes peered at you, and a nervous lopsided smile accompanied it. You hated the way your heart was practically melting at the sight.

"Hey," Haruka said gently, and the wind carried their tomboyishly deep voice up to you. "Been thinkin' about you."

"Haruka, what the fuck?!"

They grinned up at you in amusement. "You don't sound very happy to see me, sweetheart."

"It's nearly–" you looked around for the clock in your house that you rarely consulted, "five in the morning! Who throws rocks at someone's window at this hour?!"

"I tried calling, but you wouldn't pick up," they said apologetically. "My only choice was to come and see you."

You rubbed away the ache blooming under the bridge of your nose. "Couldn't this wait?"

Deep down, you were screaming with happiness. The fact that they came over just because they couldn't get a hold of you was so nonsensical that you would've told anyone off for it. But this was Haruka, and it was hard to contain the joy tugging at the corners of your lips.

They're so stupid, you sighed internally.

"I wouldn't have come all this way if it could," they said sincerely, putting their hands in the pockets of their red and white race car jacket as a chilly breeze brushed past. Their eyes shimmered up at you, reflecting the stars in the sky. There was a tinge of vulnerability to them that caught you off guard. "Could you come down? And, um...dress warm."

"If it's only for a minute then–"

"It's not," they cut in breathlessly. "Maybe thirty minutes."

You raised a suspicious brow at them before walking away to your wardrobe, changing into a pair of warm sweats before grabbing your keys. Slipping into your shoes, you quietly left the apartment and prayed your best friend wouldn't wake up to find you gone. You knew how worried she'd get otherwise.

Quickly making your way down, you jogged out of the building and found Haruka by the street, waiting on the pavement next to a sleek motorbike.

You stopped. On your second date, they picked you up in a sports car to drive to the restaurant and revealed their love for motorcycles on the way.

"Haruka..." you said quietly. "I thought you didn't share your bike with anyone."

"I know," they replied softly before holding their hand out to you. Though you wished they'd just spill what was going on, you took their hand and let them pull you closer.

Their touch was warm against the cold air of the night, your fingers encased in their palm as their thumbs ran over your knuckles almost affectionately. Heat rose to your neck under their intense gaze that searched your face for something. They guided you onto the back of the motorbike securely before getting on turning the key.

A slow hum ran through the vehicle, and Haruka got seated properly before glancing at you over their shoulder.

"Hold on tight, Y/N."

You could feel your face getting hotter, but you reached forward and clamped your hands on their shoulders. They chuckled, pulling on their gloves and revving the engine before suddenly taking off.

The abrupt jerk of the bike had you clamping your arms around their waist instantly, and you were very aware of how firm their back felt against your soft chest.

"Asshole!" you yelled over the wind, only to catch a light chuckle before Haruka sped up. You had no choice but to curl against her spine, holding onto her tightly as you two zipped under the lamp lights of the empty highway. The cold wind was in your hair, and your fingers were freezing in the fists they'd curled into under their diaphragm.

You felt their gloved hand on yours, prying them apart to guide one of them into her jacket's pocket, and then the other one as well. It was such a sweet gesture that you forgot to pretend to be annoyed at them. Their pockets were warm, and you gave into the pleasure of how they felt against your body when you wrapped yourself around them.

Slowly, you coaxed yourself to look up from their shoulder and take in the views. You weren't sure how far away you two were from the apartment, but you could see the vast ocean that opened to the right, disappearing into the horizon where the stars were beginning to disappear.

The sunrise... you realized breathlessly as Haruka drove on the highway along the edge of the beach. Your gaze was fixed on the sky slowly turning a lighter shade of blue. The stars' twinkling faded in anticipation of the first rays of the sun.

Against your chest, Haruka's warmth kept the wind's chill out of your bones. They smelled nice, although a little unconventional; smokey and spiced, like a blend of cinnamon, roses, and the faint linger of cigarettes. You'd never gotten this close to her before, although you had hoped that they'd finally kiss you when you two eventually had a third date.

Wait... you thought. Is this a date?

No, perhaps not. To you, dates should be communicated and planned and prepared for. You would never be found wearing sweats and without a touch of make-up on a date. You found yourself regretting not dabbing on a bit of concealer and mascara. Even some lip gloss would've sufficed.

The motorbike leaned to the right as Haruka took a turn into a road, and the barricades from the edge disappeared. The beach opened up to you directly, with its sand blowing onto the asphalt and the air sticky with salt. The tops of small and calm waves glimmered as an orange spot appeared on the horizon.

The sun was here.

Haruka parked the bike, and you finally straightened up and pulled your arms off them. The embarrassment of having to cling on like that finally registered, and you quickly got off the bike and faced the sea to avoid their gaze. Haruka climbed off and kicked its stand in place, leaning their hips against the gas tank as they crossed their ankles and arms.

Silence.

You wished they'd tell you why they brought you here, but you were a sucker for sunrises and sunsets. With eyes fixed on the horizon, the two of you quietly watched the colors slowly begin to change. The sky was much lighter now, and the curve of brilliant orange ascended behind a few fluffy clouds, turning their underside pink. The waters took on a beautiful deep hue of turquoise with the passing moments, a color you loved so deeply.

"The sunrise is even more beautiful when the sea's surface is there to reflect its light," Haruka hummed softly. "The sun's brilliant on its own, but I suppose it needs to see its reflection to be reminded of it."

Their words took you by surprise.

"Why would the sun need a reminder?" you asked casually. "It's the sun. It sustains everything."

Haruka shook their head. "It's too far away to see the impact of its existence. But the ocean is vast. It stretches out endlessly and can be seen from where the sun it."

It took you a minute to realize Haruka was trying to tell you something.

"And it's important, the ocean. Without it, the sun would've fried up everything on Earth. No one to witness any nice sunrises without it to make life possible, right?"

You were beginning to feel frustrated and swallowed your nervousness to turn their way. The horizon reflected in their deep blue eyes, pouring light into them like they were lanterns. A gust of wind pushed the stray fair locks off their forehead, and they glanced at you. You weren't sure if you were imagining their ears turning pink.

"Where were you the past two weeks?" you asked as nicely as you could, but the undertone of anxiety seeped in. "I thought you didn't want to see me."

Haruka exhaled sharply and dropped their hands to their pockets.

"I was trying not to see you. Well, not too much anyway. I..." they huffed conflictedly as they closed their eyes. "You know I've got a racing season coming up, right? And I was practicing really hard for it. Everyone kept giving me shit for being reckless or risky on the track or whatever, but that's just how I've always won. It's second nature to me, and I know how to win."

You kept quiet as they caught their breath to collect their thoughts.

"I guess it'll be different this time because I made it into a bigger racing series," they continued. "It came as a surprise to everyone, but my team told me that I'll be competing with racers who are in an entirely different league. If anything, they drive much like I do."

"Haruka, could you get injured?" you demanded gently as worry flooded you.

"I mean, maybe?" they replied nervously as they blinked at the horizon. "But every sport has that risk. That's not the point. The point is that the only way to win is to not be reckless, and that's a huge change in approach to manage overnight. I hate change, and I can't do it without some kind of a constant reminder over my head."

I knew it, you thought with a skip of a heartbeat. They were trying to tell me something.

Your heart raced in you chest as they straightened up.

"I crashed last week."

"WHAT?!" you snapped as you grabbed their arm. "Haruka, what the fuck?!"

"I'm fine, promise." They turned to you and placed a comforting hand over your fingers gripping the sleeve of their jacket. "It was barely anything and it's pretty normal but...I berated myself for it. That was a first. I usually just get up and dust myself off, but I caught myself thinking...how will I see Y/N if I got hurt really badly? How would she feel if she saw me crash like that?"

You were left speechless, and your heart was pounding so hard that it could break through your ribcage and fall into Haruka's hands. They came to stand before you, casting a shadow over your body that contained your attention entirely onto them.

"I ran another lap after that crash and realized that I was different," they continued. "I don't know what exactly changed, but it was like a different part of my brain opened up. I saw different ways, better ways, to conquer the tracks that I never really considered before. More possibilities to prepare for, to keep an eye out for, and...it just felt like you were sitting behind me. I couldn't afford to crash again and injure you, but I also wanted to win."

Their hand slid under your fingers to pull it off their arm, holding your hand securely. With their eyes boring into yours, you held their gaze through the butterflies and tremors racking your body. Their grasp is warm, with soft skin interrupted by the occassional calluses from gripping bike handles.

Your mouth was dry, but you still forced yourself to speak. "That doesn't explain why you avoided me."

"I was scared," they said immediately. "My entire life, I've always been so selfish and self-centered without ever realizing it until that crash. For once, you were my first thought right after. I didn't know what to make of it."

A trembling sigh left them as they reached out for your other hand to grip tightly, pulling them close to their chest clasped within their palms. And suddenly, you felt something in the air between your bodies, as if it had become charged. Your skin tingled, every cell of your being tugged forward by an invisible force with a yearning for the warmth that rolled of Haruka's body.

"I avoided you because I've never, ever wanted to run to someone so badly before," they muttered into the air between the two of you. "I wanted you behind me on that bike because your presence was so...so–gosh, I can't find the word."

Your voice was breathy when you spoke. "Palpable..."

They nodded in relief.

The sun rose behind them, peeking over the top of their head and setting their hair alight and giving them their own halo. You'd never seen a prettier sight until now, basking in the vulnerable glimmer of their irises despite the crack in the strong walls around their heart.

"You were my reminder, Y/N," they said quietly as their cheeks flushed like the underside of the clouds above. "You kept me from getting too heated. From burning up everything around me and crashing senselessly for the sake of victory. You...are my ocean, in which I see that what I do and who I am right now is enough no matter the outcome."

Your heart was going to give out from how fast it was beating, and you quickly blinked away the mist in your eyes. It was the sweetest and most passionate thing you'd ever heard from anyone. Ever.

"Whoa, Y/N, a-are you alright?" Haruka asked worriedly as they stepped in closer to you. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing..." you exhaled sharply, releasing all the anxiety and anticipation that had built up over the week. "I just...wow, um–I don't know what to say..."

Their face fell a little as their grip on your hands loosened. "You don't have to say anything at all. I just...I hoped you felt just as intensely about me, but I know it's too soon and–"

"I was waiting for you," you interjected, embarrassed and a little angry at yourself for how pathetic you sounded. "I never wait for anyone, Haruka, but you...you had me walking around everywhere wondering if you just didn't like me anymore."

Their lips parted in surprise as they stared at you.

"I usually just move on the second I feel like someone doesn't want me," you sighed as you clutched their hands, relishing how nimble thier fingers were. "That's what it means to be a secure person, right? But I've also never liked anyone the way I've liked you."

Their awe slowly turned into a bashful lopsided grin. "Someone as sensible as you likes someone as reckless as me?"

"Next time you ignore me like that, I'd rather you be dead than ghosting me."

"Whoa, okay, um–" they snorted in amusement. "You know what? Yeah. I get it. I'd hate to be ghosted by someone like you too."

Why the fuck did I deflect like that? you scolded yourself. It sounded so needy.

"I'm not all that great, though," you muttered with eyes downcast. "I mean, I like myself plenty as I am, but you...you're a professional racer. Practically a celebrity. I've just got a little writing thing on the side that keeps me comfortable, but nothing major."

You held your breath as Haruka placed your palm over their heart. Their hand slid down the back of yours to your elbow and up to your shoulder with a soft grip, their knuckles trailing up your neck. Their touch carried with it the feathery blooms of pleasure that spread over your skin, and your heart stumbled when they gently held your chin to lift your face. Your skin buzzed with a vehement need to be closer to them, and your fingers clenched around the fabric of their shirt as you felt their heart speed up behind it.

"You've got a grounded personality, Y/N," they whispered with a tentative swipe of their thumb under your lip, and their face felt so much closer than before. "Passionate and self-reliant without needing anyone's approval for it. If anything, I'd love for you to make it big in your career, but you seem perfectly content and grateful with what you have, and I admire it."

They searched your eyes so deeply that you're left stumbling over your tongue. "I–I, um, well, I have more than enough to get by so...you know, I don't–um–"

"Y/N."

"Y–yes?"

They paused, looking down your face until you felt your lips tingle.

"I wish I could tell you how much I missed you," they murmured with a hint of something akin to need.

Desire. Maybe some restraint. It was in the way their palm cupped your jaw as their thumb stroked your cheek, eyes still on your mouth as they let out a soft, shuddering exhale.

You were barely breathing.

"I missed everything about you," they continued huskily, their eyelids growing heavy with a flutter of their lashes as their gaze darkened. "And I'll be such a goner if I give into how much I like you, because there will be so much more to miss whenever I'm away. But I need you to like me back just as much because this is scary."

Their other hand was still wrapped in yours at their sternum, and you guided it forward to your chest right over your heart. Pressing their palm over it, you shuddered at the warmth that seeped through your shirt and over your skin.

Your heart was practically bursting at the seams, and you looked at them from under your lashes defenselessly, surrendering to your undeniable feelings for them despite the need for caution.

"I think..." you started breathlessly, "I've been waiting for you for much longer than those two weeks. Don't make me wait anymore."

You gulped as you stared into their eyes, your next word sounding barely above a sigh.

"Please."

Haruka's lips fell upon yours so fast that you gasped in surprise, followed by soft moans that erupted into each other's mouths. Their deep grunt rumbled in their chest under your palms as they pulled you in close, their arm clamping around the small of your back. Encased in the warmth of their body, you mewled at the way they cradled the back of your head to kiss you languidly.

You were melting into them, feeling the heat from your bodies intertwining as you gripped onto their shoulders for dear life. Their soft chest pressed against yours with desperation, leaving no room for air between you two as they caged you against the bike. Wrapped in their strong arms, you felt small and safe, left at the mercy of Haruka's unrestrained longing that you doubted there was an escape from.

But you didn't want to anyway.

"Fuck..." they huffed as their lips slid off yours, and you were finally able to gasp for breath. Their hands rested on your waist and back, fingers digging enough to keep you from floating away. Even so, you were lightheaded and almost dizzy, taken back by how passionately Haruka had consumed you within those few seconds.

You wanted them to go on forever.

Tugging at their shoulder, you cradled the nape of their neck and pressed your lips to theirs tenderly, eliciting a soft exhale as you moved to the corner of their mouth to kiss it lightly. You found their cheek, peppering it slowly and gently with all the affection and want that blossomed within you for their existence.

Haruka groaned softly and collected you in their arms, pulling you into a hug as they buried their nose behind your ear. They pecked the sensitive spot under your lobe, making you shudder breathlessly in their firm yet gentle grip. The relief and pleasure of feeling their hand rubbing up and down your spine was indescribable, and you gave into the urge of running your fingers into their soft and wavy hair, scratching their scalp softly with your nails.

They purred, still heaving as they tried to pull themself together in the comfort of your arms.

"This is better than I imagined," they admitted against your skin.

You stilled, wondering if you heard it right. "You were thinking about this?"

"A lot..."

They sounded genuinely embarrassed, and it made you feel giddy and mischievous.

"Didn't know I had such an effect on you," you teased.

They gently pulled away from your shoulder to look down at you with warning, but there was a glint of something playful in their eyes.

"Don't say it like I don't make you feel things either," they said. "You literally got angry when I didn't reach out to you."

"You left me hanging!" you scoffed as the pent-up annoyance crept in through your fingers that dug into their biceps. "Who the hell does that for two weeks, Haruka?!"

They smirked, brows furrowing as a shadow fell over their face that made evident a sinister flame in their pupils.

"You missed me that much, huh?"

You smacked them up the back of their head reflexively, causing them to laugh in surprise. Embarrassed and meek, you felt cornered by their statement, but it was too late to escape the confrontation.

"I did..." you grumbled, looking away from their teasing stare before they leaned in to peck your jaw and down your neck. They chuckled as they did so, unaware of how each kiss triggered an intense bloom of desire in your chest. You were hyperaware of their hands on your ribs, and how the tips of their thumbs rested just under your breasts as your chest flooded with something stronger than bliss.

Arousal.

Haruka's breath brushed down your cleavage as they left a lingering kiss on your collarbone, and your grip on their arms tightened.

"H-Haruka..." you gasped, and they stopped immediately to turn their head away, still leaning into you as one of their hands fell onto the bike to hold themself up.

They let out an agonized breath of restraint, groaning quietly as the palm on your rib slid down to your hip with a gentle pat. "I should take you home, Y/N."

"Already?" you said with a slight whine, wincing at how needy you sounded for a moment. Now that they were finally in front of you after so long, you didn't want to just let them get away.

Haruka cleared their throat and straightened up, looking at you with tenderness as they tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"It's been hard to stay away from you the past two weeks," they said. "I need to take you back while I'm still in control of myself."

You gave them a quizzical look. "In control of yourself? What would you even do to me out here in the open? We're just kissing."

They raised their brows dubiously as their eyelids lowered sensuously, scanning your face with a heavy gaze.

"Don't tempt me, sweetheart," they muttered with a slight raspiness to their voice. "I don't know what I'm capable of if I'm pushed to my limit."

Your lips parted in surprise at the sudden change in their demeanor, but you didn't want to stop. A part of you wanted to challenge them, nudge them to the edge to see what they meant.

But you snapped yourself out of it and nodded, clearing your throat bashfully as you straightened yourself out.

"My best friend is at my place right now," you reasoned with yourself. "I gotta get back before she wakes up and freaks out. My phone's still back there with no battery, so she might even call the police."

Haruka nodded and reached for their gloves to pull them on as you turned your gaze back to the sea. The sun was now shining in its full glory, its light bouncing off the foam and waves of the sea, turning its surface into a rippling mirror. Fluffy white clouds floated lazily against the bright blue sky.

I'm their ocean, you thought wistfully, and they're the sun.

Two things that complemented each other in ways that kept everything on the planet perfectly balanced, and you hoped that the two of you would do the same for each other.

⋅ ⛢ ⋅

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────────── A/n: Honestly, I think Haruka has it in them to fuck you on the beach in broad daylight if it ever came to that lmfao. I was wondering if I should just write it in, but I'm not in the mood for smut atm.

What if I make another one shot focusing on the smut that comes after they drop you home? I could do a prequel one shot of the meet cute as well 🤔 [update: I did it lol]

Eh, we'll see. I'm taking it slowly since it's been a while I wrote anything for leisure. Still very rusty. Hope y'all enjoyed, though. ~ Miki | Myca ✧ ─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────

OH MY GOD MY FIRST REAL POST ON TUMBLR JSDHFKKJASDHFAJKH HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO MEEE I'VE CELEBRATED WITH A HARUKA TENOH ONESHOT HEHE ENJOY

[elliwiny]

TLDR The Musical Chicago Taught Me About The Terrible Societal Pressure to Perform Gender Way Before I Really Understood What That Even Was

So it's Pride Month! And I've been listening to Chicago basically every day because it's exactly the length of my commute right now so I wanted to write about it.

I didn't grow up questioning my gender, and I guess my sexuality was 'I'll worry about that when I'm older' - until I got to my 20's and hit the 'oh shit, I haven't got the feelings I'm supposed to have, is something wrong with me?' phase of my existence.

Bringing it around to Chicago - I mean, look at her! It's Catherine Zeta Jones! Everybody is a little attracted to women, right? They're supposed to be hot! That's just how it is!

Hahahahaha.

But other than my hilariously delayed lesbianism I think Chicago stealthily gave me a primer on the fucked up ways our society enforces gender performance. Because you don't have to be trans to be in a situation where your life depends on giving 'em the ol' razzle dazzle.

The protagonist, Roxy Hart, is an asshole, a murderer, and kind of a ditz. Most of the criminals are right assholes, some are more sympathetic, and one is even 100% innocent! Aside from the innocent Hungarian, the thing the prisoners have in common is that they were boxed in, and were driven to violence after being pushed too far.

Whether 'too far' is justified is immaterial to the point. They became outlaws, and must perform womanhood to win over the court of public opinion and earn their 'not guilty' verdicts. And it's not just the kind of performance where you have to color inside the lines to not come off as weird, it's the kind where you dance and contort for the entertainment of the people who get to decide whether you get to live or die.

In Roxy's case this is kind of awesome. She's always wanted to be a star and with the power of hot-headed cold-blooded murder, she's stumbled ass-backwards into an unexpected avenue of fame and attention. She's determined to do this well, not for her survival (she doesn't appreciate the gravity of the situation, yet) but for a way to launch a career as a singer.

I mean what's Roxy's other choice? Go back to Amos? The guy who affectionately puts her on the same level as a housecat in his song? He's not the one who 'pushed' her, poor guy can't push anybody to do anything, but that's not even an option she entertains. I used to think he was one of the few good people in this movie/show, but it became pretty clear to me that devotion isn't the same thing as love.

Anyway, enter Billy Flynn, famous lawyer and expert ringmaster. In the song where he talks to the press, they do this cool thing where the reporters' initial questions don't follow the melody at first. As Billy crafts Roxy's story they quickly fall into the structure of the music, too. They draw the conclusions he wants them to, too. "Understandable! Comprehensable! Not a bit reprehensible, it's so defensible~"

Roxy's cover story is absurd, by the way, but it ingeniously plays to her type. She's a ditz but she's not naive, she has incredible natural instincts for the game she's playing. (Well, when it counts. She is resistant following the script, which sometimes gets her in trouble)

Roxy's innocent veneer plays contrast to the Hungarian, who becomes the first woman in the county to be hung for murder. She can't speak the language, literally, which locks her out of being able to play the game at all. In the framework of Roxy's imagination, we see the Hungarian's death as another performance... Because it is!

If you cannot perform, a narrative will be assigned to you and we will cheer for your pretty corpse. The metaphor could not be more clear. This is when shit gets real for Roxy, too.

Velma Kelly is also a good performer, who knows the game, but she has a disadvantage to Roxy. Her story just isn't as good. Nobody really believes she didn't do it, she's already so entrenched in the circus of jazz and liquor and sin that sentencing her is the least interesting outcome. I think that's why she gets away with shit like 'oh I blacked out I can't remember a thing' and getting her charges thrown out in exchange for her testifying against Roxy.

After all, she can't do it alone ;) if she didn't suck up her pride and embrace the pivot to playing the heel in Roxy's story, I bet she'd be hanging, too. Or at least, destitute.

They're both discarded by the public as soon as the verdict is passed and there's fresh blood to gawk at. The only way they survive as independent women cast outside the protections offered as stifled housewives is to embrace the world of Jazz, liquor, and sin... and most importantly, the narrative of the rivalry that they perform for those roaring ding-dong-daddies.

And it's not so bad, because that's what they both wanted, anyway.

[avelera]

I think there's 2 things that have kept me from reading IWTV show fanfic and/or QotD-informed Devil's Minion fic, despite the fact I'm really excited to see where the show takes that ship and the fact the Vampire Chronicles used to be my entire personality growing up:

Adjusting to a prose voice for IWTV characters that's not Anne Rice. Thing is, I used to read Vampire Chronicles fic back before it was banned on FFN! But it's been so long, and it's been so forbidden for so long that it feels weird even thinking to go looking for it and, honestly, Anne Rice's prose style is very accessible to fic readers, that it's a little like having your favorite fic writer in a fandom and then it's just :-/ not all that interesting to try to go read the same characters in someone else's voice, let alone sifting through anything less that NYT Bestseller-adjacent levels of prose. Basically, wherever am I going to find either someone who perfectly captures the show voices OR perfectly captures the actual author's fanfic-adjacent voice?

How to say this gently.... fanfic has a tendency to soften certain characters and polish off the rough edges? In particular with Daniel/Armand, I'm really not all that interested in fluff or soft fic or even get together fic at this point since that's nowhere near where they're at in the show. I kinda just want to see them hashing out all the decades of drama between them more than I actually want to see them hook up just yet? Like, I think there's some hints, if you squint, that Old Daniel is attracted to Armand, but if they did have a relationship, hooo boy, holy shit that means Armand (probably) non-consensually wiped Daniel's mind of what might have been one of the most significant relationships and most significant periods in his life. It means he's been living a lie since the goddamn 70s. Like... that's still lightyears away from a "romance" just yet, that's goddamn knock-down, drag-out, screaming fight that needs to happen before Daniel would begin to worry about things like, "Do I find this person attractive? Do I want to be on the same continent with them, let alone in the same room?"

And the thing is, that is the kind of fic I'd be interested in reading for show-version Daniel/Armand! If anyone has a rec for a much rougher, sharper, more conflict-driven taken on Daniel learning that 70's Devil's Minion happened (all except for him getting turned) that actually includes Eric Bogosian's trademark tough talk with Armand and his take-no-shit attitude, I'd love to read it.

But at this point I'm almost afraid to even go look because so much of the fandom stuff I've seen on Tumblr around Daniel/Armand is (understandably! fandom tends to write what is missing from canon!) more established relationship or fluffy or even flirty but like I don't even see them as flirty at this point? Except in the most hostile hate-fucking of manners from Daniel and the most otherworldly disconnected way from Armand where even he can't articulate what he wants (honestly, what does Armand want? Does Armand know what Armand wants?? I think the most appealing thing about Devil's Minion is that Armand seems like he can be his own weird self around Daniel, especially in QotD but it feels almost like baby steps in terms of his actual sense of self??).

Anyway, this has gotten away from me, but tl;dr if anyone has like really really tonally show or book aligned IWTV fanfic they'd like to rec I'm all ears! Even as I'm still immensely, fundamentally weirded out at being able to read Vampire Chronicles fanfic again after 20 years ^^;;

[wannabanauthor]

So Tim Minear,

Season 7 had Buck heading out with a spend-a-night bag to be with Tommy after his shift, and all of a sudden Tommy doesn’t want to move in together?

Also, Bobby gave his blessing, so did Eddie, Tommy made sure to include Eddie as much as he could while he was dating Buck.

See what I’m getting at here?

If Tommy is truly gone from the show forever, you’re fucking idiot. A new kind of stupid. A “you didn’t think that through” kind of stupid.

I’ve given as many explanations as I can for your subpar writing, but in the end it all comes back to “you’re really fucking stupid”.

Not to mention the Abby retcon, which doesn’t even match up with previous canon.

You really thought 2024 was the year to play with queer people even though you pulled out some early 2000’s harmful queer tropes?

I can’t even ask if you have debilitating ADHD because I have ADHD Combined type, and your show writing is on the same level as me when I was an undiagnosed teenager writing fanfiction.

Do you not have a show Bible?

Are you not embarrassed with this half-assed storyline?

Did you think you were going to be viewed as edgy?

After Game of Thrones last season? After The 100 went off the deep end?

On the same network as Shondaland?

Do you realize how bad you look? Fans have to dig deep into psychology to make your storyline make sense to the general audience and shippers.

Do you know how bad that is?

We need to stop letting mediocre white men write for shows. Y’all don’t know how to handle it.

You had so many golden opportunities with Tommy, and you threw it all away. For what exactly?

I really want to know what your reasoning or plan is.

What was the whole point just to retcon everything?

What was your end goal?

Please don’t tell me you thought you were being clever.

Because you weren’t.

You’re just a fucking idiot.

Plot twists need to make sense and the groundwork needs to be laid before executing it.

I want to have faith that you’re not this fucking stupid, but half the country voted for a convicted felon to be president.

I think you’re just stupid. Which is sad because there are so many other people who would love to have your career and not fuck it up.

Fucking hell, you’re really fucking stupid.

Not even a new level of stupid. Using 20 year old harmful queer tropes kind of stupid.

You weren’t even being original kind of stupid.

So fucking stupid that Trump is going to hire you as part of his cabinet.

Were you one of the ones googling what a tariff was?

Because that’s how fucking stupid you’re coming across.

Goodness gracious, you are just the worst.

And really fucking stupid.

[rockkal]

HOMESTUCK BEYOND CANON NEXT UPD8(s) PREDICTIONS (I'm delusional, btw) /SHITPOST

We get to see Jack Noir be a pathetic little meow meow and has depression because he's too busy working at the mine coal to see his wife

The Felt come into the screen, also somehow snowman, and they all say "We voted for Obama" (this is very important homestuck lore, btw)

Brand new character called HEROIN ADDICT is introduced. Son of Karkat and Dave. Has a brother named John Egbert Strider Vantas

Clover flirts with Jane and gets sent to the weed dungeon. And not like the good weed. I mean like the weed that really feels like shit

Jake becomes new leader of the Felt and Crowbar becomes his dad (Crowbar dad AU, write that down, it'll be on the test)

We get to see Death, the character, talk with ULT Dirk and he brang along the Midnight Crew, Mom Lalonde B1 and Dad egbert because he thinks they're cool (also, Mom Lalonde and Dad Egbert kiss a lot in death's office and have tea and buscuits with the Midnight Crew)

CALIBORN COMES FOR A SINGLE PANEL AND MAKES JUNE OFFICIALLY TRANS! BECAUSE HE HATES JUNE AND HE HATES WOMEN SO HE COMBINES THE TWO THINGS HE HATES INTO ONE (this is a joke, btw. I honestly want June's transitioning to be more in character then just the gremlin guy I like does it for me)

Ms Paint. becomes narrator of both Candy and Meat and it's just a podcast about different types of paint

Something related to The Midnight Crew's creator, Professor Mayasaka or however the fuck ya spell it, something translated into midnight. Whatever. I just wanna see the professor man come in and do something

JANE REVIVES AIMLESS RENEGADE SOMEHOW AND HE GOES GOD TIER! (His Classpect is Mage of Blood because I say so)

Sollux and Eridan kissing

B

Roxy breaks the fourth wall and says "it's Roxy Lalonding time" and Roxy Lalondes all over the place

A bucket appears and yeah

We see Andrew Hussie in a bath robe

Terezi manages to give back the legal rights to Beyond Canon back to their creators (sorry, I forgot your name, mister cool homestuck guy. I forget easily :'(]

Vriska dies. (I hate Vriska! (In a Kismesis way))

Equius comes back to say "I require horse" and then he gets prototyped with the universe frog

Matchsticks gets a personality and we learn he wants to become an actual fire fighter and save people since he was a kid

Stitch becomes hella cool by partnering with Kanaya to beat the shit out of Dirk

Rose just stays Rose because I forgot she existed

21 again but with Dave

June Egbert gets two new dads and they're Eggs and Biscuits from The Felt because it reminds her of her dead dad's cakes

Diamonds Droogs/Draconian Dignitary x Dad Crocker 20 hour oiled up make out session flash animation

Calliope has a child with Roxy. (comment what ya think they would be called)

Dirk eats a baby (it's John Egbert Strider Vantas)

AR gets to have a robo body and becomes friends with AR and Aradia and also Aranea is there to keep them in check and they call eachother the "AR squad", but Aranea is the out cast because she is blue

Eden Gardner (homestuck OC of @springselkie) gets a mention.

Monkeys become relevant to the plot

Jack Noir gets to show us his stabs

Bold Eagles are Aimless Renegade's second power, because he's the only AMERUCAN character in homestuck

Jake gets a beard and celebrates by showing us his level 100 GYAT

What Pumpkin office remains is an important location in the story

Mommy Condie comes back and marries Earth C's version of Colonel sassacres

Freddy Fazber, new character, literally the best. Hor hor hor hor.

Something related to drugs, I guess (I'm running out of ideas)

Fortnite becomes canon and everyone loves it

Deltarune reference

Jack Noir eats money and becomes lamborghini

Jack Noir villain arc where he and June kiss (their kismesis, it's ok. They want to kill eachother)

Rose's wifi is STILL shitty! COME ON, IT'S BEEN 10 YEARS, FIX YOUR INTERNET CONNECTION, GURL!

Kanaya gets to make something Lord English related

We see Doc Scratch because he's awesome

Wayward Vagabond comes back from the grave and does ANOTHER revolution against monerchy. He is truly the best diplomat.

MLP gets mentioned

Problem Sleuth shows up for 5 panels and then dies

Nepeta gets to kill Pickle Inspector

Eridan smokes weed

[S] Terezi: Do the mackarena

Weed chapter

Karkat gets a period cramp

Something something Lord English in black void, becomes normal Caliborn, being room mates with Equius, Gamzee and AR (auto-responder)

Free Bird fight sequence

Joe Biden gets a mention because he was probably in office before the clown fuckers took over D.C. Washington

Cockaine chapter

MSPA reader gets hella blazed and yeah

Caliborn kisses a rule 63 version of a Miku body pillow

Pic Yaoi sequence or smth

Sawbuck stays a fat fuck and eats the earth at the end

Itchy dies from tripping on a rock

Doze unslows himself and does a break dance

Trace and Fin make out session

Quarters gets to shoot ULT Dirk and is declared a war veteran

Bog from RHG shows up to eat a chocolate bar

I'm high

Ok, that was the end of this dumb shitpost. Hope ya got a kick out of it. Or not.

Wait

Shit

I should probably add an image so that I could look cool

Give me a sec

Yes, God of Yaoi.

Perfect for this.

See ya