#and fic turns into plot

[katzell]

Midge and Lenny's alternative adventures

Enough luxuriating in my feelings about Midge and Lenny's goodbye at the airport. Here are some future adventures I'd love to see them have.

Midge and Lenny go on a tour together but after getting tossed off their train by some Christian fundamentalists they wind up roadtripping across the midwest trying to get to Chicago before their show. Susie forbids Midge from ever gigging with Lenny again.

While on a USO tour of military bases in Europe, Midge gets invited to perform at a diplomatic show in East Berlin. And what do you know? Lenny is also on the bill! It all would have been a fun little trip in and out through Checkpoint Charlie if that cat hadn't decided to adopt Lenny and Midge hadn't been convinced they could smuggle it out. How were they to know the cat already had a (high-ranking) family! Susie reaffirms that gigging with Lenny is verboten.

Midge gets offered obscene money to be one of the headliners on an international cruise. She's been in a dry spell because of some Watergate jokes that were honestly pretty tame! At the last minute Lenny gets added to the bill because the male headliner dropped out. Susie reluctantly agrees that they need the money. Of course trapped on a ship winds up being Lenny's worst nightmare so the two of them make a gettaway in Barcelona. Susie's life becomes a living nightmare for months dealing with the breach of contract.

Midge and Lenny never get married, never even properly date. But, yes, there is so much sex. Great sex. The best Midge has ever had. It's distracting really, which might be why she's always a little relieved when they inevitably have to go their separate ways. Love is one thing, but Midge can never let herself become part of someone else's life again. And Lenny is relieved not to carry that responsibility.

But sometimes they argue. Sometimes they have screaming fights and don't speak for months, even years. Lenny doesn't tell Midge things that Midge feels a real friend would know! (But they don't. Lenny doesn't really tell anyone everything). Midge gets stubborn and won't admit when she's wrong. And boy can she be wrong.

During one extended period, Lenny lets himself get talked into a marrying a nice, funny girl who is sweet to his kid and doesn't mind his dicier habits. She's not that sharp, but she's cool, you know. Easy to be with. Then Midge crashes the wedding and by the end of the night he's ready to follow Midge out to her car and speed away into the desert. The annulment goes through in a matter of weeks.

Midge marries three times. Lenny catches the first one in the paper. Some drunken shenanigans in Las Vegas that got out of hand. Lenny sends her a postcard saying "Mazel Tov." Mysteriously Midge writes back, "Once is an accident, twice a coincidence, three times a fucking problem." The second marriage to the singer was widely covered by the press from the moment they were caught exiting his hotel room in the middle of the night. Lenny sent another postcard, "The thing that concerns me most is your shit taste in music." Six months later Midge sends him a ticket to join her at a Diana Ross concert.

The marriage to the media mogul is the one that really pisses Lenny off. It's in the middle of one of their longest dry spells and Lenny sees it as the culmination of their argument: Midge tying herself to wealth, excess, and privilege instead of the subversive values he thought they shared. He almost doesn't go to the wedding, but a nasty part of him want to see this shitshow go down. The feeling deflates when he finds her crying in the bathroom, only an hour after the opulent ceremony. He offers to take her away, but Midge only dries her eyes and says, "Don't worry. I'm going to make him bleed." The divorce settlement becomes the stuff of legends and Midge has Lenny headline the benefit for Midge's new charitable foundation. The endowment will keep the organization is healthy financial shape for decades.

And maybe, just maybe, Midge and Lenny did get married after all. The captain of the cruiseliner said something about them being husband and wife that night they got tanked as they were heading into Barcelona. Neither properly remembers, or really minds. Marriages are dumb anyway. What matters is who sticks around.

[buriedintheguts]

I don't think I will ever stop thinking about the way that Wade was precisely the kind of person Logan needed in the moment they met.

Logan was still traumatized, the man who had killed everyone who had loved him and saved him and inadvertently doomed all mutants in his universe. He doesn't just take the title Worst Wolverine, he's the Worst Mutant, the Worst fucking Friend, the Worst Everything Under The Goddamn Sun, because he had gone ahead and destroyed all the good shit in his life because he couldn't get his shit together.

Enter: Wade Wilson. An inconvenience, a pest, a fucking liar. Yet, as his claws slice right through flesh, Wade ... survived. More than just that, he gave back just as much as he got it. This guy met the brunt of Logan's violence, and he laughed in the face of it. Made a game, a chase, out of the whole thing like it's just one big messy joke for him.

It was, probably, but that wasn't the point. The point was that this guy, this fucking guy, had the audacity to barrel into Logan's life and not only that, he had the audacity to survive being part of Logan's life. Fuck, he didn't just survive, he lived through it — full of heart and full of so much fucking life and insistence and persistence.

So, yeah. Wade's a piece of shit, but he was the only person Logan was willing to risk because the idiot literally could not fucking die. Not like the others, be it the ones he did or didn't kill. Wade was an outlier — someone who literally made Logan move universes just because the idiot didn't want his friends to die.

And Logan didn't give two fucks about Wade's friends, but he was already here, and they saved the world, and they had fucked each other over straight to hell and back and made it out alive and some kind of friends, so when Wade called, where the fuck else would Logan go?

Of course, he would go back to Wade. Of course, he would go back to the one person who could handle it — handle him. Of course, he would go back to the only guy in the entire fucking multiverse who had the guts to put up with his shit and, not only that, made Logan hurt just as much as he made Wade hurt and be insane enough to enjoy it.

Where the fuck else would he go? Wade called for him, and Logan chose home — it was a no brainer.

[hedwig221b]

sterek twilight au

[savanir]

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 2

part 1 is here and the og prompt can be found here again thanks for the prompt @mynameisjag as you can see I am not done with it yet

The aftermath of the gala was an absolute disaster in Jazz’s humble opinion.

At first she didn’t know what to think… 

When they wheeled out the body bag that supposedly had Vlad’s corpse in it, it just didn’t feel real.

Everything became a lot more real when her mom got back from her trip to the forensic lab, It really was Vlad. The GCPD went through this whole identification of the body process, everyone was already pretty damn sure for obvious reasons but they had to follow protocol. Elaborate time wasting in Jazz’s humble opinion.

Jazz stares at her phone while sitting in the overly expensive fancy hotel room fauteuil. All of a sudden she no longer really minded that Vlad had given them all their own private hotel room, the girl wasn’t stupid… She knew he did it in the hopes that her mom would magically change her mind about him and this way she wouldn’t get in the way. Interrupt them. Whatever.

But now it just gives her privacy and room to think. And think she does, thinking is all she seems able to do now.

This whole mess is just great rep for Gotham… ‘out of town millionaire gets assassinated on their first night in the city. zero hesitation’

People are mass sharing all the leaked dirt on Vlad on social media with the hashtag #Welcome to Gotham.

At the very least any potential harassment towards her or her mom was nipped in the bud once it became widespread that Vlad had actually hired some guy to kill her dad.

Ancients…

He hired a mercenary, some assassin, to kill her dad. Jazz vividly remembers when Danny would vent about the things Plasmius would threaten him with. but she always figured he did it to rile her brother up. 

For some reason she could believe the whole making her brother his son thing, just like she got the marrying her mom thing. And yet she never thought he would actually follow through on the murdering her dad thing.

…And what does this mean for Danny?

her phone is still blowing up but the only people she actually responds to are Sam and Tucker. Sam is mostly worried, asking how they are holding up and if she needs to come over and kick some corrupt police butt, or overly pushy paparazzi butt, or just nosy people in general butt. The offer is sweet but Jazz already saw how her mom verbally tore the rumour about a ‘battered wife/gold digger’ situation apart with facts and logic, so she’s not worried.

Jazz supposes that’s a good thing that somehow came out of all this… her mom got some of her spark back. 

Meanwhile Tucker is all in the GCPD systems and sharing the results of the police investigation with the rest of the team.

because of that Jazz knows that the Bats have already shown up to do their own brand of investigating, and also that the police don’t know shit.

It figures… The police also didn’t know shit when her dad was murdered and Danny got kidnapped. And they were all too happy to accept the fake dead Danny that got found in the forest, welp, kid found, he’s dead, case closed.

useless.

It’s been several days now and it’ll probably take another week or so before something concrete gets brought to the public.

Jazz thought she might get a vigilante visit at some point but they haven’t shown up yet. At least not to ask her anything… who knows maybe they have already spoken with her mom and she simply decided not to tell her as to not distress her or something, that would make sense.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

It’s late in the evening now but she checked up on her mom earlier that day, she had been furiously going through all the things Vlad had gifted her and tossing them in a tiny and overly full garbage can.

“Jazzikins, once this whole thing is over we should head straight to his Wisconsin estate and burn it to the ground” Jazz can already see the fire burning in her mom’s eye, she’s completely serious.

“that will probably be extremely suspicious and get us in a lot of trouble mom” It would be very cathartic though, she will admit that.

Jazz had sat down and watched her mom go about her business, exorcizing Vlad from her life perhaps.

Eventually her mom sighed and asked, “how long do we still have to stay in this awful place?”

"We have to be available for the GCPD because they are still doing their investigation. They will most likely still have some questions, and i want to make sure there will be no misunderstandings with the notary later as well"

"That's my smart girl" Maddie pinches Jazz's cheek, "what do they still even have to investigate... though, perhaps it would be a good thing if they found his killer, that way I might be able to thank them myself"

Jazz winces, "Mom..."

"You're too sweet jazzy, you got that from your father" Maddie gives Jazz a kiss on the forehead before she goes back to what she was doing before.

Internally Jazz disagrees with her, she doesn't feel bad for Vlad at all, she's just looking at the bigger picture because she has info nobody else does.

Whoever killed Vlad was prepared to kill a halfa... and the implications of that fact terrify her and give her hope at the same time.

Danny is still out there somewhere, but he's most likely being exploited in some way.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

And here she is, still staring at her phone, refreshing the feed and gradually feeling more worse as she skims the headlines.

the psychiatrist in her is telling her she’s doom scrolling and it’s unhealthy, what is she even looking for here? If the authorities identify the killer, will they even tell her? Tell her mom? they probably would to ‘aid with the grieving process’. but that tends to only happen when they have actually caught the killer.

And who knows when that will happen.

This is pointless anyway, if something useful gets found out Tucker will most likely be the first to know out of all of them.

Jazz refreshes the feed again.

nobody seems to think a Gotham rogue did it, they would have made it a spectacle. 

No, all the theories seem to think it was most likely the work of underground crime syndicates, or Vlad pissed someone off in some other country while doing business, and Gotham was simply the easiest place to get him killed, even though now the Bats are on the case. or, or…

She groans, gets up and makes herself some tea when she hears it. She’s turned around with the Fenton Anti-Creep stick raised and ready before she really knows what she’s doing and she sees two figures emerge from the shadows. Big and small. Batman and Robin.

Robin pointedly looks at the creep stick, batman disregards it entirely, "we would like to ask some questions"

Jazz looks at batman and then at Robin and then just sighs, grabs her tea, accepts that this is happening, sits down with the stick ready to go at any time and says, "go ahead"

Robin takes a strategic spot closer to the window, perched on the back of the gaudy couch for some reason and Batman gets closer perhaps to loom over her more? But he also sticks to the shadows, perhaps to make her feel a bit less intimidated with the distance? She decides to just stop thinking about it from that point on.

Batman goes over the statements Jazz already gave to the police, she mostly focuses on her drink while she elaborates on some of the things she said, but eventually…

“Most people seem to think this was an act of revenge but when the police asked you what you think the reason is why Masters got murdered you simply stated you don’t know, judging by the footage of the interrogation you were agitated”

Jazz frowns, “it had been a long day, at the time I wanted it to be over with”

“These statements are vital, especially from close acquaintances”

Her jaw tightens, “so you would like me to give a proper answer now?”

Batman stays quiet,

“The revenge part is obvious, but I just don’t think that’s all there is to it. I think someone wanted shut him up”

“and why would you think that?”

Jazz thinks very carefully and makes a decision.

“Vlad was not an easy man to kill…” she trails off, still thinking about how she’s going to explain this one properly, without revealing everything.

Batman stays quiet again, Robin however pipes up, “Because he’s rich?” 

She had basically forgotten he was there and there is a moment where she just blinks at him still perched on the back of the couch, “Well, as I am sure you both have seen by now he was more than capable of paying his problems to go away, but no, that’s not what I meant”

“hrn, go on”

Jazz swirls what little tea she has left and kind of wishes it was actually some kind of alcohol… even though she’s too young for that, and then she goes on, “Vlad was not human, not fully anyway, I don’t… know… exactly what his other half was-”

 A lie, but Batman decides to leave it be for now, no need to interrupt the young lady here, if he were to point it out she might clam up and stop talking entirely. 

"-He had gifts, one of them is intangibility, another invisibility"

They are aware that something is very different about Vladimir Masters. That much became clear when they activated the scanners they got in the forensic lab and took a good look at the corpse themselves. Those results confirmed some of the claims and accusations that everyone saw during the gala.

And it seems those close to the man knew of it as well.

Jazz goes on,

"Whoever attacked him must have been prepared for that... and considering there are only four people who know about it at all, that is… before… you know," she trails off.

"Only four" Robin mutters. 

Batman glances at the boy before asking, "Who knew?"

"Uh, me. Uhm two friends of mine who are currently back in Amity Park... and my brother, Danny"

"Tt, So that's three"

"Robin-" 

"My brother is not dead!" Jazz slams her hands on the table,  "The monster who killed my father kidnapped him, and now they are using him! The body that was found in the woods is a fake, planted by Vlad so my mom would stop looking and focus on him instead"

"Why would he-" Robin starts to ask while keeping a careful eye on the absolute vehemence coming from Jazz. One thing is very clear to both him and Batman though, Jazz believes what she’s saying wholeheartedly.

"He was an idiot, and obsessed with my mom. That's a very long and frankly unimportant story, but the proof is all in Vlad's lab in the basement of his estate. I can proof the body that was found was fake, my brother is alive" she buries her head in her hands, suddenly all the anger seems to be replaced with sorrow, 

"he's alive"

Robin shuffles uncomfortably side to side. He's gotten better at comforting distressed civilians but he's a little out of his depth right now. seeing as this is sorta his fault right now.

He looks over to his father to see what he'll do.

Batman just looks contemplative. Which isn’t useful for the boy at all.

It's then that Nightwing speaks up through the communicators to them, "B, I'll go to Amity Park and investigate both the Fenton household where the attack happened and then check out her proof at Masters estate"

Batman really doesn't like the full picture that's being painted here.

"Miss Fenton,"

Jazz rubs her hands over her face before taking a deep calming breath and giving batman her full attention again, "yes?"

"If I understand this right, you're saying you think the same assassin who took your father's life has now targeted Mr. Masters."

"Yes"

Robin shakes his head, "most assassins have some code of honor. It would certainly be a bad look to go after a former client like that"

Jazz scoffs,"Well it's been several months now. I don't know if Vlad kept in contact with that monster and managed to piss them off after the fact, that too could all be on his computers in his lab"

Batman grunts and  heads for the windows and Robin hops up to follow, "You'll hear from us miss Fenton"

She lets out a shaky breath when she's sure they have well and truly left. She figures she should update Sam and Tucker that she finally got a bat visit but the urge to refresh her social media and news feed doesn't come back.

With the supposed World’s Greatest Detective on the case she’s certain actual progress will finally be made.

She just hopes it’s not too late.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

modern AU where they meet again at the fast food place Xie Lian works at and Hua Cheng has to figure out how to romance a customer service employee

[teecupangel]

Hi Teacup! Sorry for the long post in advance. This idea has been plaguing me for ages, so now everyone else gets to suffer too.

I would like to add to the Desmond menagerie with the biggest badass of the avails to ever live: The Hasst Eagle. The Hasst Eagle was around 15kgs with a 3m wingspan and hunted prey 13 times its own size. No one in any time period could think Desmond is an ordinary eagle.

Ratonhnhaké:ton's village would take one look at Desmond the toddler sized bird and go definitely a spirit.

I also have the wonderful image of Desmond saving Petruccio by just picking him up and flying off in my head (I might be overestimating Desmonds strength and underestimating Petruccio's size, but I found funny imagining the guards faces). And then I remembered the story of Zeus and Ganymede; which made me imagine Ezio chasing down Desmond and threatening to pluck him if he even thinks about taking Petruccio's purity.

It’s really huge, that’s for sure.

Giovanni knew of the Desmond.

The large eagle of legends, the guardian of the Brotherhood.

He had grown up listening to his father tell stories of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad and his great eagle. How the large bird’s shadow brought fear to the Templars who see it. How fast it was even when it was bigger than any other birds.

How intelligent it was, using gestures to communicate with his chosen one.

How it had served as the guardian and godfather of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad’s children.

It had seemed like a tall tale but Giovanni never doubted it.

How could he?

When the great eagle was painted over the ceiling of the Sanctuary below Monteriggioni.

He had no reasons to doubt its existence.

But he never talked about the eagle of legends to his children. The Templars would know about the Desmond.

It was too much of a risk, telling the stories to children who could just as easily talk about it to others.

Unintentionally catch the ears of the wrong people.

But now he deeply regretted it.

“Ezio, stop!” Giovanni shouted, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

How could he?

His second son, a cheerful boy of the age of six, was trying to beat the eagle of legend with a stick, shouting at the eagle loudly, “Go away! Shoo! Shoo!”

“Ezio!” Giovanni shouted, grabbing Ezio’s wrist before he could smack the eagle once more.

Not that he was able to.

Any time the stick was even close to hitting the bird, the Desmond simply flicked one of its wing, parrying the strike and causing Ezio to stagger backwards.

Ezio was a stubborn child though and he would continue to try and hit the bird even as it simply parried all his strikes.

Once it was clear that Ezio couldn’t whack the bird, he turned to his father as he shouted, “Petruccio!”

Giovanni was about to ask what he meant by that but the Desmond lifted its wings, showing his youngest son softly giggling as he tried to crawl away from the bird. One of the bird’s talons was gripping Petruccio’s clothes, keeping the boy still.

Giovanni’s eyes widened as he realized that they were in the second floor balcony that Petruccio’s room had. It was always meant to be locked considering Petruccio was a curious child.

And the railings had enough distance between each pillar that Petruccio could slip through.

The Desmond stared at Giovanni expectantly as it slowly lifted its talon and Giovanni used his other hand to scoop his youngest son into his arms while the baby tried to crawl to the railings.

“Thank you.” Giovanni said as he bowed deeply at the bird, earning a confused frown from Ezio.

The bird simply shook its body, reminding Giovanni of a man stretchering before the bird turned to stare at Ezio. It lifted one of its wings and Giovanni’s blood ran cold, worried about how much Ezio had offended the bird.

The bird did not try to hurt Ezio though. Instead, it used its wing to pat Ezio’s head three times before hopping away. It flapped its wings and flew out of the balcony.

And Giovanni finally let out a relieved sigh.

[eyndr-stories]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote/drew and tag as many people as there were words (or however many you want to tag).

Hi @trees-can-draw!!! Thank you for the tag :] <3 I've been getting back into the Monty centered fic i started writing ages and ages ago dfhkjgfhjf (which is actually why i'm up at , 5am ,, ahem anyways)

"The repairs had gone well, and even with the social nightmare they'd agreed to looming on the horizon, Lark felt a sturdy sort of comfortable feeling deep in their gut that had settled in like a home cooked meal."

I do not know as many people as there are words for this fkjgfhkgf so instead i will shrimply tag @shirajellyfish, @victarin, and @lavenoon (very no pressure tags, feel free to ignore <3)

[oh-katsuki]

what is your opinion on a satosugu threesome or voyeurism

I LITERALLY LOVE!!!!! i've had a thought for this FOREVERRRR that i was planning on writing so ill put it here!!!!!!!! i think about it constantly.

cw: threesome, oral (f!receiving), semi-public sex, voyeurism, sub/dom dynamics (suguru > satoru > reader)

anyway, i frequently think about satoru and suguru cornering you in a closet. some semi-public location with people bustling just on the other side of the door. n you're not supposed to be there even under normal circumstances, let alone these ones.

you're leaning back against one of the shelves, your leg propped up in the most comfortable way you can manage. your bare cunt is exposed under the fabric of your skirt and satoru kneels between your legs. suguru stands to your right, close enough that you can feel his body heat, but he's not touching you just yet. no, suguru is just watching.

satoru's hands rest on the inside of your thighs and his tongue laps eagerly at your cunt. he presses the flat of it to your clit, moving it side to side slightly as he holds your legs open. the room is dark, illuminated only by the light coming in through under the door, and it makes the sounds of your pussy feel even louder. you can hear the wet click of his mouth against you, tongue dipping in and out of you as he savors the taste.

you grip the shelf behind you with one hand and knot your fingers in his hair with the other, stifling choked gasps as he creeps you closer to the edge.

"shshshsh," suguru croons from beside you, placing his palm on your forehead and drawing your attention to him. "gotta be quiet. we wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"

you nod your head, looking into suguru's calculating eyes. they look strangely satisfied. like he's fulfilled at seeing you and satoru be so absorbed in pleasure that he'd orchestrated. though he doesn't touch you, both you and satoru know that suguru is in charge.

suguru's hard. you can feel his bulge from where he stands, just barely touching your thigh. it sits in his pants untouched and unattended.

"touching yourself, satoru?" suguru laughs a little, tilting his head down to glance at where satoru is palming the bulge in his slacks.

satoru doesn't look up or pause, instead just nodding into your cunt. suguru lets out a quiet and somewhat condescensing laugh.

"you're such a pervert." to which satoru opens his eyes and rolls them.

you're caught between the two, grip in satoru's hair tightening as he works you up. his tongue swirls around you, fingers digging into the fleshy inside of your thighs. if you had the mind, you'd notice that the way they dip against your skin looks delightful. suguru is sure to have noticed that.

"he's good at that, isn't he?" suguru asks you.

"mhm, he's-" you choke on your words, subconsciously pulling him against you harder. your sentence is cut short.

"satoru's real good with his tongue," suguru smiles down at you, insinuating something that makes you both jealous and overwhelmingly aroused.

as if on cue, satoru applies pressure to your clit, swirling around it with the tip of his tongue. when you look down at him, his eyebrows are furrowed. it's as if he's deliberately tried to draw your attention to him and he frowns at suguru before delivering a succinct squeeze to your thighs.

you climb higher and higher, the knot in your stomach winding up like a wire gone taut. you tremble and then gasp as your whole body becomes sensitive and suguru places his hand back on your forehead, forcing you to look at him.

his palm is wide and warm and though he doesn't apply much pressure, you get the feeling that you couldn't move your head if you'd tried.

"is satoru gonna make you cum?" he asks quietly, leaning in close to your face. "you gonna let him?"

you don't have a choice. you're going to cum. you feel it welling up in your stomach and behind your eyes, where heat rushes to your face. all you can do is look at suguru while satoru's tongue buries itself in your sloppy cunt. you can feel the way slick drips down the leg supporting you, dampening already sensitive skin.

"eyes open when you do, 'kay?" suguru offers with that gentle cadence of his. playful and coolheaded, he makes you an offer you know you can't refuse.

you feel the peak as it builds, blinding you as you approach that overwhelming finish. you tug at gojo's hair and he takes it as a cue to double down. you gasp and crest over, rising up onto your toes as your legs begin to tremble.

suguru's hand still presses on your forehead and gojo takes it upon himself to attach himself to your clit and slide his hands around to support your lower back. your voice sits just behind your tongue, mouth open in a silent moan as you look into suguru's eyes.

he looks almost wicked. so satisfied that it makes you feel proud. you watch him like he asked you too, pulling satoru's head against your pussy subconsciously.

satoru works you through it, slowing the motions of his tongue as you come down with a choking gasp and heavy breathing. suguru strokes your sweat soaked forehead.

"can i have a turn?" suguru questions.

satoru stands up from between your legs, rubbing the inside of your thighs. then, he reaches up to wipe his cum-soaked mouth.

"jeez, suguru," he smiles. "give the poor thing a minute, at least."

[hanakou-often]

Who wants some vampire x werewolf Hanakou?

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part Four  / Part Five P 1 YOU ARE HERE / Part Five P 2 

As always I own my soul to @chalkysgarbagefire and Hayley for helpin out with this one! 

The problem with D&D games was that the drama room was only available on specific days.

As in, the days Hellfire was scheduled as a club for, much to said club’s distress. 

This led directly into the second issue Hellfire faced--finding a place to host them all when they wanted to do something as a group outside of the main campaign they played. 

(At least anything D&D related, with all of the screaming, ranting, and frantic dice rolling that came with it.) 

Gareth knew Eddie had been lying through his teeth when he'd try to pitch Steve's house as a Hellfire hangout. Accepted that they’d never get to use all the sweet, sweet space Steve was known to have as much as he’d accepted Steve himself. 

It was a lot, after all. Particularly when Eddie’s one-shots were known to last a good chunk of the day. 

Once again, Steve had proved them all wrong. 

(“We can use my house.” were five words not a single person at the table had ever expected to hear out of Harrington’s mouth, and it showed in the shocked silence that followed when he actually spoke them. 

“What?” Steve asked, as six pairs of eyes stared at him. “Space is the problem right? So my house is the perfect solution.” 

“Are you sure dude?” Grant asked hesitantly. “You know this one-shot isn’t gonna be a like, two hour thing, right?” 

To their surprise Steve just gave him a flat, almost dead-eyed stare in return. “I’ve hosted the kids at my place before. Believe me, I am well aware.” 

“As long as you’re absolutely sure…” Jeff had added, and could only roll his eyes when he got a sassy response from Steve. 

Gareth of course, caught the way Steve kept seeking out Eddie’s eyes, as if hoping to make their oldest friend smile simply by offering up his house. 

He didn’t even need to look to know it was working.) 

It had taken some creative thinking (and a few wild excuses) to finangle things so that he could show up to Steve's literal castle of a home before anyone else without alerting Eddie but he'd managed it.

It was in fact, looking to be the highlight of Gareth's month. 

Possibly the year, if they managed to pull off the little plot he had cooked up. 

“I still don’t get how this is a prank.” Steve said, as Gareth prepped him before the others arrived.

"Trust me. If Eddie is anything, it's a jealous bitch." Gareth replied, seated on one of the countertops. "We dethrone him and he's gonna make an ass of himself for the next week. It'll be hilarious." 

"I fail to see how that's different than usual." Steve grumbled as he bustled about. 

Upon arrival Gareth had found him elbow deep into making cookies and what appeared to be  themed cocktails, among several other bowls full of snacks of all kinds. 

There was even little finger sandwiches, the kind that absolutely looked homemade, and Gareth would have teased him about that except he’d instantly stuffed two in his mouth.  

("I won't be able to host since I'm playing, so I just want everything done before anyone comes over." Was Steve's explanation, when Gareth did manage to get out a few teasing quips.  

With the proud lack of manners so many teenage boys possessed, Gareth talked right through his mouth of food. "God you’re a dork. How the hell did you get popular?"

"Shut up Emerson, you're wearing two jackets." Steve snipped in response, as if he didn’t look like the poster boy for Nordstrom.) 

"Don't bring logic into this." Gareth continued, as he tried to snag some cookie dough. 

 Steve smacked the back of his hand with a spoon. 

"Get a bowl and a spoon if you're going to eat the dough!" Steve grumbled at him, already bustling to get said bowl and spoon himself. “God you’re worse than Eddie. And the kids!” 

Gareth waited until Steve turned before he stuck his tongue out at him. "Whatever you say, mom." 

He got an over exaggerated eye roll in response. 

 "Anyway, the point is you're gonna witness something we'll get to tease Eddie about for years." Gareth said, as he watched Steve dole out some dough. 

"You get to watch the little hamster on the wheel that powers Eddie's brain lose its shit and cause him to do something really stupid.” He made grabby hands for the bowl and spoon, and tucking in delightfully the second Steve handed them over. 

Steve himself treated the entire exchange like he was feeding a particularly vicious and wild animal, making a show of yanking his hands back like Gareth might just go for his fingers. "I just don't understand why the thing you wanna fight about is cuddling."

"Bragging rights. The jokes we can make. The fact that your thighs look like they were made out of clouds, take your pick man.” Gareth counted off, in-between bites of dough. 

"Clouds?" Steve asked, tilting his head. 

“Big muscley clouds, Harrington. Also Grant’s here.” 

Steve blinked. “How do you-” He asked, right before the sound of a car with an engine far too loud pulled into his driveway. 

“He drives an absolute piece of crap. You ride in that thing one time and you’ll be able to hear it coming for the rest of your life.” Gareth explained, as Steve peered out the kitchen and down to his front doors. 

(Plural, because he had two.

Gareth had never felt more judged by slabs of wood in his life than he had when he’d walked through them.) 

"Last chance to bail, Stevie.” Gareth teased. “I won't hold it against you if you call it off mid-show though." 

Steve didn’t answer for a moment, too busy disrobing from his baking apron—a bright yellow and red garment that practically swallowed him whole, complete with an embroidered ‘Claudia Henderson’ over the right breast. The embroidery gave rise to a few questions but Gareth decided to save them for later. 

"No, something this fucking weird has to have a story behind it and I want to witness the fallout.” Steve finally replied, before rushing out of the kitchen. 

He ripped open his front door, right after a knock echoed loudly throughout the house. 

“Shit! What the hell man, were you just waiting to do that!?” Stewart yelped, prompting Gareth to snicker quietly and Steve to apologize. 

Like the wealthy housewife he’d been no doubt raised by, Steve went through a whole spiel as he ushered Stewart and Grant in, pointing out bathrooms, letting them know where the game was going to take place (the giant fuck off table that looked like it should be hosting some kind of high-stakes negotiation instead of a bunch of nerds) and where they could put their things (into a closet dedicated to just guests.) 

The trio of Eddie, Tiffany and Jeff arrived next, the latter two having been roped into helping Eddie haul his “D&D To Go” bags around. 

Steve started his little host speech over, much to Gareth’s amusement, fluttering about and entirely forgetting about his cookies until the oven dinged, causing him to swear and rush back into the kitchen. 

“Dude, breathe.” Gareth told him, almost done with his bowl. “It’s a D&D game, you don’t gotta go full out for us.” 

“I just want to make sure everyone has a good time.“ Steve said with a shrug. Like none of the effort he’d gone to, was a big deal. 

“Careful Harrington, say stuff like that again and we’re going to start thinking you enjoy hosting us.” 

“Shut up Gary.” Steve said, setting his cookies on a cooling rack. “And put that bowl in the sink!” 

Gareth jumped off the counter, trying his best to remove the shit eating from his face.

He failed entirely. 

xXx 

As far as pranks went, this one required quite the set up. 

They couldn’t do it in the beginning of the D&D game--too obvious, and too easy for Eddie to call bullshit. 

Doing it at the end wouldn’t work either. Eddie would know they were trying to rile him up and would no doubt find a way to ruin it. 

Years of being Munson’s best friend had afforded Gareth the knowledge that this was going to have to be split in two parts, and the first part, the setup, started now. 

Slowly. Methodically. 

In a way that wouldn't spook Steve, or trigger Eddie's sense for trouble. 

Gareth began by selecting a seat as far away from Eddie as possible, knowing his lovestruck idiot friend would be pulling out all the stops tonight in order to impress Steve (and get him to keep playing, of course.) 

Sure enough, as soon as Eddie was done setting up he crooked a finger in Steve's direction.

“Harrington you’re here, next to me.” Eddie flashed him his most award winning grin, the one that said he was up to trouble in that charming, ‘aren’t I just a charming ol’ rogue?” sort of way. 

“I made you a human fighter, just to start you off." He continued, as Steve took the seat next to him. "You can always make your own character later if you don't like playing this class, but I made this set up as straightforward as possible.” 

“Human fighter huh?” Steve said, glancing down the sheet. “Okay.” 

“You have any questions, you just ask. I promise I won’t bite. Not for your first time anyway.” Eddie winked, dipping in and out of Steve's space as he did so. 

“Dude, I am begging you to please stop saying shit like that.” Jeff said with a long suffering sigh. 

“No.” Eddie replied promptly, sticking his tongue out. 

Steve just ducked his head to hide his smile. 

A harsh clap halted any further response, as Eddie settled back into his seat and dipped into his DM narrator voice. 

"Alright my little adventurers! Are we ready to begin?"  He looked around as everyone looked towards him, the energy shifting instantly in the room. 

Eddie grinned gleefully. "Perfect. You all wake up at an Inn, with no memory of how you got there…" 

A story was quickly spun, one of mysterious memory loss and a sense that the group needed to stay together. Introductions were given once everyone came into the tavern of the inn, cut short when they were interrupted by a lone barkeep.

“Is the barkeep a human?” Steve cut in. 

Eddie paused, temporarily thrown, but nodded encouragingly. “Yes, he is actually!” 

Grant and Jeff both went to open their mouths, no doubt to tease, but Harrington beat them to it. 

“Okay, I roll to fight him, or whatever.” Steve said.

“I--what?” Eddie asked. 

“I roll to fight him.” Steve repeated. “Oh and my character screams “Death to humans!” before he attacks.” 

He sat back with a smug little grin, and watched as Eddie froze in surprise, while Grant and Stewart's jaws promptly hit the floor. 

“Harrington, you menace.” Tiff cackled, delighted. 

Eddie just threw his head back and laughed. 

It set the tone quite nicely for the rest of the one-shot. 

xXx 

“Grant, why are you looking at me through a fork?” Steve asked, about thirty minutes into the game. 

“I’m pretending you’re in jail.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Grant, whose character had to physically carry Steve's fighter out of two altercations he started,  just gave him a flat look.  “It’s spiritually healing.”

"Hey Jeff." Gareth asked quietly, as banter was traded. "I'm catching a hell of a draft over here." 

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. "And what do you want me to do about it?" 

"Switch me seats?" 

Jeff rolled his eyes, but gave in easily enough. 

"Fine."  He said. 

Gareth did his best to keep his grin off his face. 

Step one, complete! 

xxx

"You come upon a door." Eddie said, sitting deep in his seat while steepling his fingers. "It's a normal door, unremarkable in every way except for two things." 

Groans filled the room, startling Steve. 

"Oh god, not again." Stewart moaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I can't do this again!" 

Eddie's grin merely grew. "The first odd thing you notice is that the door has been put into the wall at a tilt." 

"I'm gonna kill him." Tiff snarled, writing something frantically in her notes. "Munson is a dead man walking." 

"What is happening?" Steve asked, glancing around. 

"The second thing is that you recognize this door." Eddie's grin was Cheshire cat-esque, smug in the chaos he was causing among his friends. "It's the same door you saw at the beginning of this adventure, leading into the room the Innkeeper asked you to stay away from." 

"We're boned." Grant announced, throwing himself dramatically back against his chair. 

Gareth made his own dramatic, frustrated noise, banging his fist on the table. 

The full glass of soda next to him wobbled dangerously. 

With a cough, he made another loud "ugh!"  smacking his fist down a second time, closer to the glass. 

As intended, it spilled all over Tiffany. 

"Dude!" She exclaimed, shoving her chair backwards and jumping up. 

"Oh shit Tiff, I'm so sorry!" Gareth gasped. 

It was hard to keep a straight (albeit very sorry, least Tiffany hit him with her papers) face, but he managed. 

Barely. 

"You got my shirt wet you dick!"

"Here, switch it with this."  Gareth stood, unwrapping the red and black checkered sweater from his waist. He offered it up with an apologetic face as Tiff snatched it out of his hands with a glare. 

"I'll switch you seats too!" He called as she stormed off towards the bathroom. 

Jeff and Grant both stared at him with raised eyebrows as Gareth quickly shuffled his and Tiff's stuff around, taking her now sticky chair. 

"Maybe we should take a break?" He suggested, trying to act embarrassed when he was anything but. "This whole area needs to be wiped down."

"Five minutes." Eddie conceded. "I wanted one of Stevie's delicious cookies anyway." He stood, putting his arms up in a lazy stretch. 

Steve stood with him, leaning over to examine the mess Gareth had made. “We can wipe this down but this wood’s kinda funny, it’s gonna be wet for a bit no matter how much we dry it.” 

“Well shit.” Gareth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the table man.” 

Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, the kids spill on it constantly. You are probably going to need a different chair though unless you’re fine with your ass getting wet.” 

“Do you have another chair somewhere, Stevie?” Eddie asked, making a show of looking around. “Cause I’m not seeing one. Not that I care if Gary-Berry sits on the floor.” 

Steve had several extra chairs in fact, but he and Gareth had hidden them all away before anyone else had arrived. 

“I used to, but Mike broke two.” Steve said, and Gareth found himself insanely impressed by the improv on display. 

He hadn’t thought Harrington had that level of acting in him. 

“If you’re okay with sharing though, the chair’s are big enough that we can kinda squish together.” Steve continued, completely ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes about bugged out of his head. 

“Only if you’re sure, man. I don’t want to be more of a bother.” Gareth put on his saddest, ‘I dun fucked up’ face, and shuffled his feet a little, just for dramatic effect. 

This was the performance of a lifetime and Gareth wanted his Grammy after it, because he and Steve had planned the entire thing right down to the shared chair bit. 

“You’re not, Dustin does this constantly.” Steve replied easily. 

“Or we could just put down a towel.” Jeff said, with a look on his face that said he thought everyone in the room was a fucking idiot. 

Gareth could’ve strangled him. 

“That’s probably a smarter idea.” Steve agreed, like the traitor he was. “I dunno if that’s gonna work for your papers and shit though, so you can just hedge into my space.” 

Which wasn’t what Gareth wanted, but he had to give Steve props for the quick thinking. 

At least it was just a minor setback. 

“I’ll get a towel.” Jeff continued, and at least they all got to witness the look that graced Eddie’s face upon realizing that Jeff of all people, knew where Steve kept his towels. 

xXx

"What the hell else can we do to try and open the door!?" Jeff snarled a while later, slamming his pencil down. 

They'd tried multiple different approaches and so far nothing had worked to set off whatever trap Eddie had set up. Something that made their DM absolutely delighted, while frustrating everyone else. 

"I still don't get why we can't just try to turn the knob." Steve complained, staring in confusion at the absolute riot Eddie's "completely normal" door had caused among the rest of his party. 

"Do not touch that door Harrington!" Grant bellowed, pointing at him. 

Steve raised his hands in the air placatingly. "Easy, easy, I was just making a suggestion." 

Gareth, wedged as close into Steve's space as he could get, tapped his fingers on the table twice. It was the little code he’d come up with to alert Steve that he was about to do something to piss off Eddie related to the prank (mostly, so Steve had a heads up Gareth was about to touch him, not that Gareth had spun it that way when he’d explained it) before patting Steve’s shoulder, hooking his elbow on it and leaning over. “Not gonna lie man, it’s not a bad idea. We’ve tried right about everything else.” 

He could feel Eddie's eyes burning a hole in his skull from here and he delighted in it. 

“Do not encourage him.” Grant said through gritted teeth. 

Gareth leaned his face on the arm perched on Harrington, his hair tickling Steve’s cheek as he tried to look as angelic as possible. “I couldn’t possibly know what you mean, Grantman.” 

He was flipped off in response. 

xXx

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Stewart howled, and even Gareth’s jaw dropped when Steve finally gave in and tried to turn the knob--only to succeed and swing the door open. 

“Well Munson? What happens to him?” Tiff said, having refused to call Eddie anything but his last name since the door had first appeared. 

“Nothing.” Eddie practically purred. “I told you, it’s a totally normal door, and the only weird thing about it was that you recognized it and that it was put into the wall a little tilted.” 

“Fuck you dude.” Stewart practically growled, balling up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on and flinging it towards their DM. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck. You!” 

“No thank you.” Eddie replied cheekily, twirling a finger in his hair. 

“We spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to open a regular door.” Jeff said, clearly processing. “An hour.” 

Eddie just shrugged, shit eating grin plastered across his face. 

Gareth once again tapped his fingers twice against the table, waited a moment, before banging his head gently against Steve’s shoulder. “I hate him.” He groaned. 

After a long moment, Steve gently, if not a little awkwardly, patted him on the head. 

“There, there, Gary. We defeated the door in the end.” He said calmly. 

Gareth laughed, absolutely delighted. His head jerked up and a grin crossed his face as he immediately looked to see what Eddie made of that. 

Pure murder, going by the face Eddie poorly tried to cover. 

Perfect. 

xXx 

“With his last few moves, Sir Carrington-” 

"I refuse to let that be my character's name.” Steve interjected, as he had every time Eddie brought up the name they’d apparently argued over. “If I have to figure out how to change it legally in your dumb game I fucking will."  

Eddie didn’t even look in his direction. 

“--Sir Carrington leaps into the air, swinging the sword of truth. It cleaves right through the Innkeeper, revealing him to be the dastardly villain you’ve heard so much about, Tareth the Trait. He’s gained an unusual amount of power after stealing the Inn from the former Innkeeper--” 

“Really bro?” Gareth said, sending Eddie a flat look. “Tareth the Trait?” 

“--With this final blow, Tareth collapses to the ground, dead. The Inn returns to its prior form, a safe haven for adventurers, instead of a trap.” 

“Shut up guys, we did it!” Stewart said, throwing his hands up in a victory pose. 

“Not gonna Eddie, I liked the twist.” Tiff complimented, a rare thing from her. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Eddie stood up, sweeping an arm across his chest as he bowed. “Give yourselves a round of applause as well, especially for our dear Steven, who just completed his first D&D game!”

A cheer went up, causing Steve to flush red. 

Gareth pretending to drum, knocking his shoulder into Steve’s much the way he had seen Eddie do as Steve sent an embarrassed smile around the room. 

“We should celebrate.” Jeff said, as the chaos finally died down. 

“I conquer, Jeff the Chef!” Eddie hollered, putting his foot on Steve’s chair. “Stevie-boy, you gotta have some good stuff around here for those big basketball wins!” 

“Get your foot off the chair, Eds.” Steve groaned, but stood up (forcing Gareth to get up as well considering how far he’d been leaning into Steve’s space.) “And yeah we can order like pizza.” 

“Pizza and beer?” Grant suggested.

“Oh my friend. I can do better than that.” Steve replied, a flash of his old, charming self coming through. “Allow me to raid my father’s liquor cabinet.” 

“Hell yes!” Grant yelled, pumping his fist. 

Tiffany rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, and neither Gareth noted, did anyone else. 

Which was exactly what he wanted, because he hadn’t managed to land the perfect ending he and Harrington had planned. 

Gareth would make it into Steve’s lap tonight, even if it killed him.  

(Or worse, even if Eddie got there first, a thing that may very well happen considering Eddie was clearly annoyed with how Gareth had been hogging Steve. 

Just as intended.) 

SOME NOTES: I don't play d&d so writing it always requires a lot of research. Several pieces here (like the human fighter bit) are based off of/stolen from memes, videos or stories I read. If I fucked it up thaaaan idk squint and pretend its right LOL. 

This one doesn’t have a bonus because I had to split Chapter Five into two parts. This is Part One, it’ll be one chapter on A03.  It just kept going.

Also Adopt a Jock is officially going up ON A03 so I will no longer be accepting tags ( Ch. One is already uploaded I’m just struggling with the summary lol. I will make a post and link it to my pinned post when it’s up.) I will still be updating here since I am only updating chapters on A03 as fast as I can edit them, which is not fast at all, so I imagine the next few chaps will be here before there but eventually shits gonna even out, so those who did not get onto the tag list can subscribe to the A03!  

Finally, Sorry this took so long, I have a prior ongoing medical issue and getting laid off fucked up my insurance. Had to cram in some procedures before it ran out. Long story short all I've done is sleep, go to a doctor or rant about one of the two lmao. Legit slept 18 hours yesterday ahaha k i l l m e 

[graciereadshannigram]

this idea for a fic has been kicking around my brain and refusing to let me rest so here's my attempt at getting it out so the bees can leave me alone.

~

Will's voice was a weapon, sharp and commanding as it sliced through the air. Stop right there," he said, his gaze intense as he pinned Hannibal with a look that brooked no argument. "Don’t lie to me."

He watched closely, almost hungrily, as Hannibal’s mask of composure slipped. It was a mere moment, a flicker of something hungry and unguarded that danced across the psychiatrist's face as his meticulous person suit slipped just an inch. The dilation of Hannibal's pupils, a tightness around his jaw—subtle, yet unmistakably a reaction.

"Oh, you like that?" Will’s words slipped out, almost without permission, tinted with a darker, more dangerous curiosity. He savored the slight falter in Hannibal’s stance, the way his usual poised demeanor wavered under scrutiny.

Hannibal attempted to regain control, his voice smooth but slightly strained. "Will, I think you misread—"

"No, I don’t think I did." Will stepped closer, once again denying Hannibal his obfuscations and cutting off the distance, his words a clear no to any form of retreat. "And I just told you not to lie."

The reaction was immediate. Hannibal swallowed, his gaze flitting across Will's face, perhaps seeking either escape or permission. "You’ve always had an effect on me, Will. I admire everything you do, as long as it’s true to your nature."

Feeling a surge of power at the raw honesty, Will took another deliberate step, reducing the space to just a breath away. His voice was softer now, a menacing whisper, "Even if it’s in my nature to control you?"

He watched the visible shudder that ran through Hannibal, the breath that hitched a bit too loudly. It was exhilarating, this visible sign of Hannibal’s composure crumbling, an acknowledgment of the dynamic that Will had always suspected existed between them but had never dared to explore.

"I didn’t mean to seduce you so soon, but I can make it work," Will mused, leaning in closer, forcing Hannibal back against the wall. He could now see, unmistakably, the arousal in Hannibal’s eyes, the quickening of his breath. It was intoxicating, the power, the control, the undeniable rush of answering arousal that coursed through him, knowing he had Hannibal right there, on the edge.

Hannibal looked back at him, his expression a mix of shock and that darker, deeper allure they seldom spoke of. "Will—"

"Tell me about the betrayal, Hannibal," Will cut in, his tone steady, one hand coming to rest against the wall by Hannibal's temple. He needed to hear it, needed to understand, even as he navigated this charged, dangerous game they were playing. "Why did you do it? Why manipulate me–and everybody else–so thoroughly and think there would be no repercussions?"

Hannibal’s voice, when he finally spoke, was calm but thick with an emotion Will couldn’t quite place. "I wanted to see you liberated, Will. Free from the constraints you so blindly follow."

"And yet, here we are," Will shot back, his voice soft but deadly, other hand coming up to fully surround Hannibal with his body. "You’re the one constrained. Does it feel liberating?"

Hannibal’s response was to close the gap completely, pulling Will in so their bodies were flush from hip to chest. "Quid pro quo, Will. I have laid bare my truths. Now show me yours."

The direct challenge ignited something fierce within Will. He met Hannibal’s gaze, his smirk widening. "If my truth involves dominating you, Hannibal, would you accept that as part of my nature?"

A faint smile touched Hannibal’s lips as his composure began to rebuild. "I find my defenses quite...receptive to your advances."

"Good," Will breathed out, a curl of satisfaction unfurling within him. This was just the beginning, a new dynamic unfurling, and he was eager to see where it would lead. "Because I’m just getting started."

[ftmsteveraglan]

i've been imagining creepy obsessed stalker william recently and... hoooo boy.

(creepiness, stalker behavior, and nasty boy william below the cut)

you'd never expect it, either. he seems like a completely ordinary guy whenever you see him. he's kind, pleasant to talk to, cordial towards you. maybe he shows a little favoritism with you over other people, but hey, maybe he's just friendly.

you don't know the full scope of his obsession towards you until you accidentally stumble across his collection. every time you two have met, he's managed to take something from you, whether it be a picture he snapped without you realizing or a piece of jewelry you thought went missing in your car somewhere. the crowning jewel of his collection (more like a shrine built to you, really) is a pair of your underwear he managed to steal from your bedroom after watching your house for weeks. it was difficult to get, but ohhh was it worth it. he gets off to the smell of you just about every night.

but when you confront him about it, he's not ashamed of it. he doesn't see any problem with it at all, and he doesn't know why you would be so upset. can't you see that this is all for you? no one else loves you as much as he does, he's certain of it. come on, sweetheart, let him show you how perfect you are. let him show you how much he really loves you...

[sukuna-sucker2]

Thinking about heien period yuuji being in a forced marriage with Sukuna.

They're both not ecstatic with each other but hey jujutsu sorcerer politics and all that so they tolerate each other at best.

But then soon Sukuna starts to respect Yuuji due to his strength and powers.

They spar, they have dinner together, and soon they start actually bonding and spending time together.

Then, Sukuna has to go away due to a territory problem, forcing Yuuji to stay at the palace.

But Yuuji can't simply stay still so he follows Sukuna and finds him at a brothel.

Sukuna would normally visit brothels to relax and indulge in himself but ever since marriage he hasn't visited one but hey what's wrong with visiting this time? It's not like his wife is watching him

Yuuji catches him in the act and he's pissed off but most importantly disappointed

He goes back to the palace, sulking in bed all day that it actually worries Uraume

Sukuna finally comes back home and is not welcomed at all by his wife who's ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder

He's not pleased so what does he do best other than fighting? Fucking

He doesn't even wait till nightfall when he fucks an inch of Yuuji's life

Yuuji is still mad at Sukuna so he does his best to seem he's not affected at all- covering his moans, keeping in his whimpers and groans- the only indication he's somewhat affected is the blush on his face

But Sukuna will not be satiated till he hears his wife's voice, calling him so sweetly and beautifully. He'll break Yuuji even if it means fucking him for a week straight

Yuuji breaks on the 2nd day but Sukuna doesn't stop

That monster keeps going and going till Yuuji has to beg him to stop but even then Sukuna only allows him for a bathroom break or to eat food

By the end of it, Sukuna is satisfied. Yuuji on the other hand? Less so but hey he just had the best multiple orgasms of his life so he's not complaining

[antlered-prince]

Do you have any recommendations for good Dream/reader fics? I can’t find any….its so cold out here………./j

i wish i did! but unfortunately he's so hard to find /reader fics for (that aren't nsfw one-shots) that i don't have any (⁠´⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠ω⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠｀⁠)

most of the dream/reader content that i have are old art/attacks or rps 😔

[teecupangel]

Colossal Squid! Desmond and I'll give you my bones

“Have you heard the legends of the Kraken, Shay?”

“Every sailor has.” Shay answered politely, glancing at their guest.

Even as bitter wind gripped its claws at them, Haytham Kenway looked as prim and proper as a gentleman on his way to watch an opera.

Shay, on the other hand, had pulled the fabric around his neck up to cover his freezing nose.

“And do the stories tell of the Kraken a monster that destroys without any care of one’s status or upbringing?”

“The sea is a cruel mistress to all, Master Kenway.” Shay answered, glancing to his right. Gist just shrugged, obviously also a bit confused to why Haytham Kenway was talking about the Kraken all of a sudden.

“Yes, she is.” Haytham agreed as he walked towards the bow of the ship, “But the Kraken is not cruel.”

“He is playful and intelligent. He also has the habit of trying to show his displeasure using his limbs.” Haytham continued, making the other crew members stare at him, forgetting their tasks as they listened to a man who sounded like he knew the Kraken himself, “But above all else…”

“He is one ugly squid.” Haytham commented.

They would have laughed at that but the waters beneath them grew dark almost immediately.

Large tentacles rose from the depths and the crew shouted in fear and surprise.

Shay immediately ordered them to main the cannons but stopped when Haytham said, “It is no use. Human weaponry does not work on him.”

Shay froze, noticing that what he had thought to have been sunlight against the tentacles was actually…

Glowing lines that reminded Shay of the light of that device back in Lisbon.

For a brief moment, Shay was paralyzed, the fear and pain of that day flashing before him.

Haytham was still speaking and Shay tried to focus on his voice.

Haytham wasn’t there in Lisbon.

Shay wasn’t there in Lisbon anymore.

Haytham was his anchor to the present.

“The Kraken is what those who know nothing call him. The Templars though… had a different name for him.” Haytham continued calmly, as if the ship had not been kept in place by tentacles coiling all around it. There was no creaking sound and that only made Shay more frightened.

The Kraken knew how to control its strength so it wouldn’t damage the ship, only keep it immobilized.

That kind of intelligence…

“Desmond.”

Shay frowned.

Where have he heard the name before?

“The sea monster that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad tamed. The ruler of the seas that cares for the Assassin Brotherhood.”

That’s right.

Shay heard Adéwalé talked about a ‘Desmond’ before. Shay had thought it was some kind of pet because Adéwalé talked about how it followed his old friend whenever he sailed.

One of the tentacles reach out towards Haytham and Shay shouted, “Master Kenway!”

Haytham raised a hand, stopping Shay from unsheathing his dual blades.

“Do not move, do not speak, do not even think.” Haytham ordered calmly, “He is here for me.”

“Will this be the day you drag me into the depths, Desmond?” Haytham asked, a slight curiosity in his tone, “Or will you still prolong this dance we share?”

The tentacle wrapped around his neck but, with how big the tentacle was, it wrapped his entire upper body instead.

Haytham didn’t seem worried, looking at the sea below as he stood at the very tip of the bow, “Well?”

Shay and the rest of the crew could only stare, frozen by fear and confusion, as Haytham was slowly lifted.

… before he was placed in the center of the ship. The tentacles uncoil around him slowly. There was a pause before it flicked Haytham’s hat off and Haytham simply gave a tired sigh.

The tentacles let go of the ship and returned to the depths of the sea.

It took a few seconds before the water returned to its normal color.

The entire crew gave out a relieved sigh as many of them fell on their asses.

“Master Kenway, what was that?” Shay asked and all of them turned to stare at the mysterious man as he picked up his hat.

“That was Desmond.” Haytham said as if he was just introducing a family friend he didn’t get along with, “The Sea Scourge of the Templars. He attacks every ship that shows its Templar affiliation. He won’t attack this ship though.”

“It won’t?” Shay couldn’t stop himself from sounding skeptical.

“As long as I sail with you, he will not.” Haytham said.

“Why?”

“Because that squid still believes I am my father’s son.”

[transingthoseformers]

As much as I have a gripe with bayverse tf due to some questionable writing choices that aged badly. It is still the first series to introduced me to tf, and damn the comics are smth cause what do you mean that is where the Lord High Protector Megatron trope came from, where megop shippers used it in fanfics and that line of Megatron saying he wants to make Optimus as his in one of the comics

I'VE GOT SO MANY OPINIONS ABOUT HOW THERE'S GOOD IDEAS STUCK IN BAYVERSE

Like. Clearly there's flaws. Some deep, obvious flaws that cannot and should not be ignored. But, some of the ideas in it are soooo crunchy and fun to play with

Bayverse could've been better. It had potential. And there are some genuinely good moments in the films. And some of the designs, while the execution and final product wasn't what many were looking for, clearly had attention and thought put into them (I still love bayverse Starscream and TLK Megatron😔).

They had a chance, and we saw what happened with that chance.