#and so it was SO EASY to hang out with people

[starstrucklucky]

The post text in case the link ever breaks.

The great Stop Fucking Him post

Mar. 4th, 2005 at 9:30 AM

Demure or something

This post won't be for everyone. If you're uncomfortable with hearty leftist political opinions, you might want to skip it. I've gone ahead and lj-cut it out of consideration for (a). people who'd rather pass on it and (b). people who are at work, and might prefer to skip repeated derivations of the word "fuck" in bold face type. That having been said, feel free to keep reading or move right along. I promise not to take it personally.

Edit: Yes, yes yes -- feel free to link

this wherever you like. I don't mind.

This is not about abortion.

If you read the article in its entirety, I think that much is obvious -- this is not about abortion. If this were about abortion -- specifically, about fewer abortions being performed -- then those interested in reducing that number would hop all over this bill. So I'll say it again, this is not about abortion.

This is about women having sex, and who gets to be in charge of that sex.

Well, really -- that's what it all comes down to, isn't it? At present, there is a movement in place to make sure that (to lift a phrase from Dan Savage) men have orgasms, and women have babies.

There are people in this world who very firmly believe that this is the natural order of things: men have orgasms, and women have babies. This is a sacred balance, whereby a man is made happy for two minutes and a woman spends the next nine months serving as host to a life-threatening parasite, then the next eighteen years held legally, morally, and fiscally responsible for the health and well-being of that parasite ... while the man is free to wander off or stick around at his leisure.

This is a balance that many, many people -- many of them in positions of power -- are willing to go to great lengths to enforce. Never mind that many (but not all) of these people are men, and are therefore unlikely to be held accountable for any parasite more complex than a tapeworm ... for some strange reason or reasons, these people want to make sure that it is very, very difficult for your average American woman to manage her reproductive system.

Most of the people who object to the wide, easy availability of birth control are men. These men have the luxury of assuming this position because they have no reason to believe that they, personally, have anything at stake. I find this baffling.

The solution is so obvious that it can be boiled down to three words: stop fucking them.

That's right. Stop fucking them.

If your man doesn't understand that if he's entitled to an orgasm, you're entitled to an unoccupied uterus -- stop fucking him. If he can't get it through his thick skull that his fleeting pleasure poses a mortal threat to you -- stop fucking him. No handjobs, no blowjobs, no orgasms for him whatsoever except by his own hand, until you can be completely assured of a baby-free future, at your discretion.

These men do not deserve access to your pants. Stop fucking them.

I don't know what you think you owe them, and I don't care how badly they whine or beg. I don't care if they're wonderful boyfriends otherwise. I don't care if you're married to them. Stop fucking them. It is still your body. It is still your call. Clearly, they do not understand this. So stop fucking them.

They will not die if you do not fuck them. Stop fucking them.

Remember: You can hold out longer than they can. I promise. Your sex toys are better,* your self-control is superior, and your stakes are higher. Stop fucking them. You deserve better. You deserve someone who is aware that your body is your domain, and who respects that. If he doesn't respect that, stop fucking him.

Just stop. Stop it. You deserve better, and he deserves a cold shower if he thinks he is entitled to control over your vagina and how you manage its daily operation. Stop fucking him if he thinks that someone other than you should determine what hangs around inside you. Stop fucking him, because he would sooner masturbate with a corkscrew than let you dictate how he receives his prostate exams.

Stop fucking him if he refers to birth control as your problem, then helps vote in legislation that makes it your really big fucking problem. Stop fucking him if he thinks that your inability to prevent conception should in no way prevent him from having sex with you.

It's not that complicated.

Stop fucking him.

Stop it. Seriously.

Christ.

* And illegal in some states. Coincidence? I think not.

Attn: conservative men

[reallyromealone]

Hi! Just sending in this ask before I forget my idea, dont answer this until your asks are open again I just want to write this down before I forget!! Boten x single father! male reader, reader works at a restaurant and Boten comes in one night and Mikey takes a liking to him, his daughter sits in the staff room and draws/plays because she’s too young to be home alone- 🦇 anon

Title: cute waiter

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: bonten

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, single dad reader, fluff, nameless daughter, Mikey has that weird ass rizz as the kids say

Notes:

Summary: bonten goes to a small restaurant while in town for business and Mikey falls for the cute waiter.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

(Name) Could never thank his boss enough for letting (daughters name) stay in the office, the elderly woman finding the toddlers company pleasant while she worked on scheduling and order's.

"(Name), could you cover booth three? I have to talk to (boss name) about the schedule" (name) looked to his co-worker who managed the hardest puppy eyes he could "fine, but you owe me"

"Thank you!"

(Name) Never knew what to expect at the small restaurant, typically it was the locals in the small town but sometimes some rich people came in and even foreigners which was a gamble on how the experience would go.

Usually they were nice though.

"Hello! Could I get you gentlemen started with water or perhaps the chef's choice of wine?" (Name) Said happily to the group who sized him up, the man in the middle just staring him down with cold blackened eyes but (name) just continued smiling and even making eye contact with them.

Blissfully unaware of who they were or what their tattoos meant.

"We will start with the finest wine you have" the white haired man with snake like eyes said simply, his rings shining under the warm lights "of course! I will be back momentarily with your wine, gentlemen" and with that (name) turned and left, bonten not missing Mikey's curious look and the lock on to the waiters ass. They all exchanged glances while their boss just ate his snacks, flipping to the dessert menu to see they had the good stuff.

(Name) Returned moments later and filled their glasses, Mikey freezing when the waiter got close to him and the white haired man could smell the others cologne faintly and nearly shoved his face into the poor man's neck if it wasn't for his self control "so tell us about yourself, Mr waiter ~" ran was going to do his boss a favor, knowing Mikey had the romantic abilities of a snail. "Ah, what would you like to know?" (Name) Was so easy going, care free "you in school?" "You single?" "You know how to bake?"

(Name) Was a bit startled by the questions but didn't see the harm "I'm not, I graduated last year, I am single and I do know how to bake, yes" (name) laughed a bit at the questions "now, what can I get you gentlemen?" Changing the topic to get to business and not have these attractive men ask every detail of his life.

Of course they ordered the nicest things on the menu, it was going to be a pricy bill no doubt but (name) wasted no time getting their order before his coworker took over his table for his break and hang out with his tot. (Name) Brought in dinner for the two, free food from the restaurant and (daughters name) got cute rice balls shaped like hearts and for dessert she got taiyaki shaped like stars and filled with custard.

"Wow you drew this?" (Name) Cheered on his kid who beamed, the owner who became their grandmother of sorts always splurged on the good coloring supplies for the little girl and finding some cute toys for the office so she's never bored.

"Why don't we show the team, yeah?" (Name) Asked the little one who bounced a little, clearly happy at the idea "let's go!" Holding his little girls hand, the restaurant was nearly dead save for the group of eight who were furious that (name) was changed out for another person but Mikeys anger quickly melted when he saw the tiny version of (name) waddle towards the elderly owner who was rolling cutlery.

"My!" She cooed and lifted the little girl up "you're so talented!"

Mikey and (name) locked eyes, the waiter offering a sweet smile and Mikey's face dusted red, (name) didn't miss the stares and the blushes on the pale man, knowing damn well the awkward blond thought he was attractive "you enjoy your meal?" (Name) Asked him casually, the blond composing himself "yeah..." His words simply and short, never the one for small talk "that your kid?"

"Ah, yeah... She's too young to be alone and my boss practically helped raise me as a teen so she just hangs here"

Mikey nodded and looked over (name) who caught his stare "would you like to go out sometime?" (Name) Thought the blond was cute, even if he barely spoke and just stared ominously.

Mikey froze, usually it was him doing that "you don't know who we are, do you?"

"...models...?" (Name) Said confused, unsure of his answer and Mikey just stared back at the man "what? Used to people not recognizing you?"

"Something like that"

"Well I hope to get to know you better, I have to get my rugrat in for her nap but I'll be back soon yeah"

Mikey never felt so complacent, nodding and even letting (name) kiss his cheek gently before going to get his daughter.

[reds-skull]

CW FLASHING IN THE VIDEO (3rd from the bottom)

This is it. 3 months in the works, the comic (and video) are finally done.

A little over a year ago, I uploaded the first work in Revenant AU, Ghost's origin comic. I never thought I'd write a whole series for this, but I'm so glad I did. I got a whole new hobby out of it, haha.

I already began working on part 2, but this for me marks the start of it. I'm really excited to get back into this world!

Under the cut there are some comments on the comic I thought some people might be interested in (don't wanna make this post longer than it already is lol). I will upload the frames from the video separately, with comments on it there.

Bottom line is, thank you for letting me just go wild with this :)

Okay, I'm mostly gonna talk about the part where Fate shows Makarov the 141+Farah. Makarov doesn't see the Fate of people as literal images, he often has to interpret odd symbolism in the flashes he gets from the Weave of Fate.

I decided to go for a style I saw in a collection of calling cards in MW3, mainly from this one:

You can really see it in the faces and pitch-black cel shading.

I'll be going in order of appearance, starting with Farah.

Obviously, each of the "flashes" shows the Reaping of each person, Farah being crushed under rubble. Behind her is a helo of green gas, which symbolizes the Russian experimental gas. The motifs around her are more interesting imo - they're taken from the Urzik flag (and yeah apparently it's "Urzik" and not "Urzikstani"... according to the wiki at least). Wings, plants (feels to me like a pomegranate and some sort of crop, but I couldn't find what it is specifically), and a moon, upside down.

I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I've had the idea to make a drawing of Gaz in the Hanged Man pose since I started the AU basically. I tried sketching it once, and it went bad so I gave up lol. But I decided to come back to that here, and add some sort of tarot connection to all of them. I know practically nothing about tarot, googled the meanings of each, they fit well enough, I called it a day lol.

So Farah is the Moon, upside down.

Price is next, showing him taking control of the brain of someone. I didn't use the flag of the UK for the 141 (it'd be kinda boring...), instead I took the Taskforce 141 logo, and broke it down to different elements.

I took the laurels for Price, both framing his illustration and sitting above his head like a crown. I decided he will be the Emperor.

Next up is Gaz, the Hanged Man of course. Gaz gets both the wings and the stars (I changed mine to 4-pointed because... I like them better). Pretty clear why, both symbols relate to the sky. The illustrations kinda follow a rough day cycle, if that makes sense. Farah being night, with the moon. Price with his golden and purple color palette, twilight. Gaz being sunrise, and Ghost and Soap, day. This is why Gaz has a sun behind him.

Ghost was fun because he's the only inhuman one out of the group. I'll let you think what that implies, that even in Fate's Weave, Ghost is an outlier... Ghost gets the skull, and the card "Death". That one was easy, but what I did add is blood flowing down the skulls, like tear tracks...

Soap, the problem child, gave me the most issues as always. For once, it wasn't his fucking face, it was the flames behind him, and overall contrast and readability issues. Soap's illustration is probably packed with the most "hidden" details, though they're obvious if you've read the fic and Konchar's side story. The headless man behind Soap is Konchar himself, holding 4 chains with dog tags on them. The 4 soldiers from Soap's squad, who he killed before Soap was Reaped. Soap's pose is from the moment he came to his senses, after getting shot in the head and destroying a large part of Verdansk. He has 4 swords, pointing at him and downwards, so his card is 4 of Swords, upside down.

Between Soap and Ghost is a circle and a triangle. I'll explain that in the post concerning the video, since that's where I got that from.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! There will be another post for you to read in a moment lol

[lilislegacy]

as a huge fan of both harry potter and percy jackson, it always rubs me the wrong way when people criticize harry by saying, “percy challenged the corrupt system and held them accountable, harry became part of it.” if the aim is to criticize jk rowling, i’m more than willing, but there are plenty of other decisions she made that actually deserve scrutiny. harry becoming an auror is not one of them. he didn’t join a flawed institution to become part of its corruption; he joined because he intended to FIX it. harry is extremely powerful, headstrong and determined, naturally drawn to mysteries, and has a deep commitment to justice. he was made to be an auror. and his goal is to make the wizarding world safer, to pursue dark wizards and death eaters, and to eliminate the threats that hang over the post-war wizarding world.

i love percy more than anything, and his choice to step back and live his life instead of becoming an immortal god was a brave and humble decision. i adore him for it. i love how our seaweed brain just wants to live his life in peace with his girlfriend and his besties. but harry, after all the betrayal and trauma he endured from the ministry, choosing to work within it — knowing how broken it was — took IMMENSE courage. he could have lived comfortably on his fortune or pursued a much more fun path in quidditch. but instead, he chose to be right there in the thick of it, determined to fix a broken system and put dangerous individuals where they belong. after everything he’s been through? that’s fucking amazing. it’s very on brand for harry.

so yeah i have endless admiration for percy for calling out corruption. but harry didn’t tell them to fix it. he chooses to fix it himself.

stop pitting my boys against each other. jk rowling has made a lot of mistakes in her life, many that i will never forgive her for. but making harry an auror was not one of them. he was born for it, and it would have been cheap and out of character to say he chose a career that’s fun or easy. because harry never backs down from a challenge, and especially not one that saves a life.

[foone]

Mostly, but not exactly. I accidentally infodumped about one of my favorite hobbies.

Besides the parts that are made by, you know, the game companies... there's a couple generators where someone else made them and sent me the code+assets. Like the Street Fighter 2 generator and the Mortal Kombat generator.

And in a few cases people made part of a generator, and in different ways!

The Sonic 1 generator wouldn't really exist without someone drawing a few extra letters: the original game doesn't have all the letters in its font, because they only drew the letters they needed for the level named. Some letters aren't in those! They don't use JQVWX, so if the generator wanted to be able to show those letters, someone had to draw them. Sometimes it's easy enough to extend a letter or two if I can easily edit them (like turn an B into a D: erase the cross beam and flatten out the middle curves), but other people with more artist skill than me have made extra letters to make the generator possible.

The other way other people have contributed is in drawing alternative versions of game screenshots. Like for the Castlevania: Symphony of the Night generator, you can make it Christmas, Bernie Sanders, or Nacho Libre themed, because someone drew it and let me include it.

And the graphical design of some elements of the site wasn't all me: the original navigation was horrible and all mine, someone else cleaned it up to make it not look like shit, and then I've slowly been replacing their UI now that I've needed to upgrade the UI.

But all the main code and the majority of the generators are just me. It's a surprisingly big project because I've lucked into a setup where it's easy to periodically add more bits into it and those are always relatively short projects with a wide variety of approaches.

And I'm not kidding about variety: some generators are "take a few screenshots and wire up some json config", while others are "take 20,000 screenshots by automating an enumator" and a few Extra Fun Ones are "use NSA tools to decompile a Nintendo DS game (damn you Cory in the House!)".

But yeah, It keeps my ADHD-brain happy, and it's a fun thing to be able to pick up and work on whenever I've got some free time. It's an eternal hobby project: it can never be done, but it is always fun to work on.

And I've been working on it long enough that it's like, what, 350 generators? That's about one a week going back to 2018 (I should graph how the number of generators/month has changed over that time... I'm curious what the shape is! It's not flat and it's slowed off as I've done a lot of low hanging fruit games (like NES games: almost always easy. So simple to do I've written semi-satirical tutorials on how to make one(as I made one in protest after some far more modern game was proving a tough nut to crack and frustrating me)))

Anyway... I'm always looking for game suggestions to do, a lot of the games in the generator are there because someone @'ed me and was like "hey this would be fun as a generator" and I looked it up and made it.

I've been pretty slow with that recently (currently mostly bedridden! If you'd like to help) but I'm still trying to do them as I can. Too much fun not to.

Which is really the charm of this project to me: I've managed to make it enough fun for me to make, that I'm already pretty happy just making generators for me. The fact that other people enjoy it is a bonus! But it's a very nice bonus, it must be said.

Thanks to everyone who's enjoyed it!

On a lighter note: around 4 years ago I found a site that would allow people to easily make fake video game screenshots. Then I forgot what it was called (it has a really weird name).

Well… I final found it again:D

No fe game has been implemented yet, but have fun: https://deathgenerator.com/#gallery

My own fake screenshots under the cut

[maximwtf]

“Should have known better.”

Kinich x Reader

Words: 2500

Google Docs Pages: 4.1

Warnings: Kinich story quest spoilers, angst/hurt w comfort/good ending, saurian death?, platonic relationship

Opening: Kinich is not one for strong reactions, even when dealing with bigger issues. But does his composure falter when a pressure point from the past is pressed?

AN// G/N Reader. Tell me why I completely missed out on Kinich lore even after getting him the first day the banner came out :”D ANYWAY now that I’m in the loop, this just had to be done. Likely not going to write for him again, just felt like doing this one. Hehe, anyway I’ll now disappear to work on another Capitano fic ;; (Was excited about that so I'm sorry if the ending of this is ooc and/or rushed)

“Should have known better.”

Tagging along with Kinich while he was on the job wasn’t something you were used to doing often. But on the other hand, you knew he didn’t mind having you there. Company apart from Ajaw seemed to be something he craved every now and then, not that you blamed him for that. Plus, you never asked for any portion of the funds he was going to get for the commissions even after helping him complete it. Simply enjoying the time spent with him, which had been hard for him to understand in the beginning. Why would someone work on a commission for free, only taking his company as payment? But by now, he seemed to not mind whenever you tagged along. 

And it wasn’t like you were completely useless either. A rather seasoned warrior and a fighter as you were, allowed him to get through commissions faster which wasn’t something he’d turn down especially if it was for free. 

The area this time wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. Some high cliffs that surely would have frightened the less seasoned, but by this point standing on the edge of one didn’t stir those feelings within anymore. Not even while in the heat of battle, like now. 

Your eyes followed Kinich, hooked onto a saurian after having just gotten rid of one. The pack was rather large this time, having caused so much trouble for the people near the cliffs that they’d asked for help from Kinich. 

Your attention was brought back to the situation at hand soon after. Dodging the saurian’s hook, taking a little more speed into your steps before raising your weapon against it. Eyes keen to follow each step of the creature, making sure the hit would land. But while your attention was occupied, Kinich noticed another one  behind you. An easy target, really. It hadn’t even targeted you yet, so getting it to fall off of the cliff would have been easier than having to spend time on fighting it. Kinich loaded his shot, aiming with practised ease and watching to make sure it hit the creature. Though, as soon as it did the saurian managed to hook itself onto your ankle before the explosion ultimately made it lose its balance. Slipping off of the cliff and into the ravine. Affectively throwing you off of your feet with the heavy pull, quickly starting to drag your form along with it down the steep drop. 

There wasn’t any vegetation to take a hold of, grassy ground with dried bushes and a few flowers. Your hands grasped the ground, digging up dirt along the way. Attempting to kick the hook off of your ankle, but it held on tight. Especially when the saurian was basically dead weight in the ravine. Hanging off of you, making its hold ever stronger.

Your eyes quickly moved to Kinich, aware how little there was you could do anymore. A moment flashing by as pure desperate panic flooded your eyes, no words coming out in the moment. Focused solely on trying to get your body back up as it was actively being dragged into what seemed like the end. But your companion appeared frozen. 

Kinich had but a few moments to react, if even that. Having noticed the hook attached itself and soon after you were already hanging on the edge. Grasping at anything nearby to hold on. But even that feeble moment had been enough to make his mind run a course into a dark pit of memories. 

The young yet such a tough boy who’d been chased out by his father. And by a mere mistake, had watched his by then fragile father stumble. Taking a step back a little too close to the edge of the cliff, and with a heavy thud land on the bottom. 

How his body had frozen just as it had on this day. How his whole body had felt the tremble going through it, something he’d never felt before. A warm pressure at the back of his eyes as his body began to move towards the edge. How he’d seen what remained at the bottom of what seemed like an endless drop, having pulled himself back straight after. Chest tightening by the minute. The young yet such a tough man from then on clutching his small hands into fists. Fighting the tears back down, gritting his teeth as his mind raced. The situation was more of a mess than anything he’d seen before. Yet by some miracle he was able to numb his mind enough to push himself back onto his feet and find a grapple hook to bring his father to proper rest. 

But all that was then. Something he thought he wouldn’t have to ever think about again. Yet the lump in his throat as he approached the edge of the cliff proved him otherwise. But what was he so frightened of? And just then, he heard a thud. Something that echoed for but a mere moment. But a sound that felt like something in him had shattered. No rational thought of ‘I haven’t even seen what happened yet’ was able to ease his mind.  Yet his body felt almost as if it was moving on its own. It had been from the moment he’d watched your fingers slip off the edge. Hurrying there to see what could be salvaged. 

Even if his mind had seemingly decided the fate of the situation, his body hadn’t. He wouldn’t allow something like this to happen again. This was not a way to go, for anyone. Least of all you. 

You felt the ground under your hands slip, the last bit of the cliff giving in under the weight. Falling alongside you and the saurian. The speed of the fall was so frightening you could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a minute, before even the thought of doing your all to survive came to mind. 

The walls of the ravine in certain parts were tight enough for roots to connect from one side to another. Not all of them would support the weight of a human, but a few of the older ones were thick enough to be worthy enough to give it a try. To try and wedge yourself between a pair of them. 

And by a miracle, the Night Kingdom wasn’t going to have you on this day. Not now, at the very least. You’d managed to grip a pair of the roots. Gravel, dirt and smaller rocks trickling down the sides of the ravine at the sudden pull on the old roots. For a moment fearing they would give out like the edge of the cliff had. 

You held your breath, eyes widened. As if even the most subtle movement would restart the fall. Even the saurian had mostly stopped thrashing around, almost like even it understood the gravity of the situation. And if it did, that was a problem. The roots weren’t going to hold up the weight of you and the saurian. It had to go for a chance to get back up to even be possible. 

As soon as the air stilled, confirmed the roots were going to allow you a chance. To watch you fight for your life while hanging off of them by your arms. You started kicking the saurian, wiggling and moving the ankle it was attached to. The hook’s hold had slipped earlier when you’d lodged yourself between the roots, so it was no surprise that the already frightened saurian couldn’t hold on for longer. Its hold slipping, keeping you on the edge up until you heard the loud thud that echoed at the very bottom of the ravine. 

The air was so still, only the sound of your heavy breathing and soft trickle of the gravel that fell from the walls of the ravine. Following the fate of the saurian. Leaving you hanging before even thinking of trying to find a more stable spot between the roots. Kinich being still up on the cliff having slipped your mind completely. Focusing all your energy and instinct on finding the most suitable spot to get on before even attempting to come up with a plan to get back up. 

Kinich so desperately wanted to hesitate, not look down the ravine. Not after the thud that had echoed from the bottom of it. The sound that had stirred those memories to resurface, powerful enough to make him wonder if he even wanted to check and confirm the source of the sound. 

But then again, Kinich couldn't just leave and assume what had happened. Peeking over the edge, keen eyes scanning the bottom of the ravine. Only being able to spot the saurian, unmoving at the bottom. His brows furrowed, eyes moving across the walls of the ravine in confusion. A silent breath escaping him after spotting your form lodged between the roots, having heard the rustle of the dirt falling down from around the roots. Not even giving himself time to be relieved before his mind started ticking. Trying to figure out a way to fish you back up. 

“Hold on, I’ll reel you back up.” He called out, voice stoic as ever. And if you hadn’t been in such an attention requiring situation, you could have heard the slight waver in his voice. 

You peered up, merely seeing the man’s shadow before he disappeared off of the cliff edge. Way to leave someone hanging, you thought. A slight snarl appearing on your face before at last making it close enough to the wall of the ravine to calm down for a moment.

Soon a few rocks fell from the top, catching your attention. A grappling hook slowly lowered itself to your level before Kinich appeared at the top. “Wrap it around yourself.” He instructed, the same tone of voice still there. Doing his all to hold it together. Panicking now would only lead to worse losses, and that wasn’t a price he was willing to pay. 

Though, he would have been a fool to not admit the way he was feeling. Having noticed how his hands had shook while fetching the hook. How his breath had hitched at the thud, how tense he felt even now. 

The tug at the end of the rope caught his attention, peering back down to make sure you were securely attached to the grappling hook. 

Trying your best to help him, you used the wall closest to you. Placing the tip of your boot to each crevice you could spot, making the weight a little lighter for him. 

Soon a heavy breath escaped your lips when the familiar grass appeared back into view, crawling back on the top of the cliff. Kinich taking a hold of you, easily lifting your form back up. Dragging you rather far from the edge without even noticing before he let go. 

You allowed yourself to lay on your back, breathing heavily as the seriousness of the situation slowly started to sink in. Staring at the sky, following the few clouds that travelled across in that time. Turning to look at Kinich, watching as he hadn’t allowed himself to sit down. Leaned against his knees, hair hiding most of his face as he stared at the grass. Breaths heavy. A relieved yet tense silence between the two of you. 

Observing him a little longer, it wasn’t hard to tell that he’d clearly been shaken up by the events. And maybe it hadn’t hit you just as hard yet, but you felt almost worse for him than yourself. It wasn’t often that you nor anyone else saw him like this. 

With a silent groan you sat back up, thinking for a moment before deciding to speak up. “You couldn’t have known it would attach itself to me…It’s okay.” Knowing he wasn’t going to let this slip with you merely telling him that it wasn’t his fault, yet still trying. He wasn't the kind of person to not blame himself when he’d been involved in something like this. “No, I should have known. Waited for you to get out of its range. I knew better than that.” Kinich replied, voice surprisingly calm as he stood back up. Completely dismissing your earlier forgiveness. 

You couldn’t get a word in after, not that there was much you could say. He wouldn’t believe you if you kept telling him that he was not at fault here. Merely watching as he kneeled in front of you, eyes scanning your form before doing a more thorough check up for injuries. Lifting each of your limbs, moving them to make sure that nothing was out of place. Mumbling something about the adrenaline wearing off soon and having to check up on you after that again. Gaining him a slight eye roll from you. 

The chuckle you let out couldn’t hide the nervousness still deep in your system, still feeling the need to make him understand. To make him listen, it wasn’t his fault. That there was no reason to think of how it had happened, but to move on and be glad you’d both made it out in one piece. 

You took a hold of his hand, stopping it from wandering around your form. Obsessively checking that everything was okay. Giving him a look before pulling the man down to sit and calm down. Feeling his hand still tremble, clear that he was still on edge about this.

You may have not known everything of his past, and you didn’t have to. No matter what he may have encountered before you’d even met him didn’t matter now. He was allowed to be shocked and panicked, but what you firmly believed he shouldn’t do was to force himself to be so uptight. To make himself move on so quickly. Especially when that didn’t seem to be an unconscious choice, it was one he forced himself to make. 

“Hey, we’re both alive and well…mostly in one piece. Calm down, eh?” You tried to smile at him. Watching as his eyes stared into yours, careful as he eased out and more willingly sat down. A breath escaping him, giving in. If just a little. 

You placed his hand against your chest, breathing calmly. In a way an attempt to calm yourself at the same time, maybe tricking your brain by doing this for him. Watching as wind so high up in the cliffs blew against the both of you, sitting there in silence. Waiting until the initial shock wore off. 

And likely would have waited for longer. If it hadn’t been for the subtle grunt that escaped you when letting go of his hand. Likely having sprained something in your shoulder due to the fall. But it was enough to bring Kinich back on track, quick in his actions as he tugged you back onto your feet. Mumbling something about not wasting any more time and having to go find a medic. Gaining him another eye roll.

[chewnotchoke]

like no one else can

ೃ࿐ boynextdoor as your situationship

this was fun to write,,i was wondering if i should make individual fics abt this...what do yall think? ^__^ feedbacks and comments are appreciated ! and also my ask is always open if u wnna chitty chat <3

warnings: fluff, intense pining, light angst, signs of red flags

wc per member: ~250-400

sungho

“i’m trying to understand what am i to you?”

𓍯 situationship with sungho would be filled with a lot of "almosts" that keep you guessing, excitement, and unexpected outcomes. he would have this easygoing, carefree attitude as if he truly enjoyed your time together, but he’s also hard to pin down. he would bring you as his ‘plus one’ to parties or events and he has once invited you to a family outing “as a friend”

𓍯 sungho likes to do actions that you couldn’t help but assign meanings to these little things. he would give you a bite of his food in between laughter and throw tiny comments such as “i thought about you the other day.” the way he laughs at your jokes, recalls small details you mention, and checks up on you in between classes makes you question if he does the same with other people. if you didn't witness him opening doors for people, helping classmates with their homework, and giving the same endearing smile to anyone in need, it would be quite easy to convince yourself that the things he did to you meant something.

𓍯 when you mention being cold, he casually throws his hoodie over your shoulders and says, "just give it back whenever." yet it stays with you for days and he doesn't bring it up either, as if sharing his hoodie has become a relationship between you two. but when you decide to give it back, your heart aches to see another girl wearing his hoodie.

𓍯 the combination of highs and unanswered questions would be thrilling, and his charm would entice you to return for more. but the question “what am i to you” hangs in the open air because then, if you really meant something to him, he wouldn’t have treated others the same way he did to you.

𓍯 was it mutual at some point? maybe, or maybe not.

riwoo

“i know it’s casual but i look for you in a room full of people”

𓍯 likes having alone time with you. plans a hang out with your friends to watch a movie but the truth is he didn't invite anyone else just so he could watch the movie and spend time alone together. at the end of the movie, you'd just be wiping off your lips because you spent the whole time making out.

𓍯 situationship with riwoo is almost like a secret. he knows how to pull you towards him, and the relationship has you on chokehold. most of the time, he makes moves that make you question the very foundation of your relationship. he acts like he likes you. but does he actually do?

𓍯 during a chill drinking celebration at your friends' house, both of you always find a reason to text each other even if you're literally in the same room. that one time when you were seated a little too far from him, he pulls out his phone, typing under the table making sure no one gets a peak of his message, he would send you, "you're too far from me :(" it seems as though the thread that binds you is stronger than everything else, and every communication feels like a secret that only the two of you know. you'd look up from your phone to give him a glance and he gives you a subtle look—the look that even when you try to look away, you could feel his eyes settled on you.

𓍯 his red flag would probably be saying things like, "would you be jealous if i went out with someone else?" or talking about his ex. but right when he gives you enough reasons that he's not good for you, he pulls the "what would it take for us to stop pretending this isn’t more than casual?" card.

jaehyun

“you say we’re just friends but why do you look at me like that when no one’s around?”

𓍯 when you clearly don’t look like you’re just friends but it’s becoming a running joke now–jaehyun responds without skipping a beat whenever someone arches an eyebrow and asks if there is more going on between you and him. he casually replies, “we’re just friends.” and each time you force a smile that falls short of your eyes, you nod along.

𓍯 jaehyun has this habit of leaning towards you whenever he laughs, sometimes his head falls on your shoulder for a moment which kinda makes you flinch during the first few times but now that you’re used to it, you let your heads touch each other when you laugh together.

𓍯 when he spots you alone leaning outside the glass door at a party, you feel his presence slowly approaching you and then he simply stands there in comforting silence, staring at you in that familiar way, without saying anything at first. when you told him that you get more comfortable attending parties because he’s around, he’d flash a smirk, and his eyes return to the expression he always gives you when no one else is there. jaehyun looks intensely at your face as if he’s searching for something–searching for a sign.

𓍯 you can’t resist yourself to ask him a question if he’s sure about it. “sure about what?” his tone is gentle, and the corner of his mouth twitches as if he clearly understands what you are saying. “sure that we’re just friends…” you replied. jaehyun pauses before responding. he just looks at you, his eyes darting to your lips and back to your eyes, a spark there that he tries to conceal but can't quite get rid of. he lets out a tense and nervous laugh. “yeah, we’re just friends.” but his words were laced with hesitation and uncertainty. and there you thought, maybe the look he gives you is enough, for now.

taesan

“you treat me like this because you know you're my weakness.”

𓍯 taesan knows how flustered you get when he touches you. during lunchtime with your other friends, you tried to ignore how he sat closer to you than usual. when your friends make a joke and others laugh along, you try so hard to focus but you just can’t seem to grasp the fact that his knees and yours were touching. then, his fingertips lightly touched your leg, so gentle at first that you nearly questioned whether it was an accident. however, taesan’s hand becomes steady and warm, and you can only sense his calm presence. you attempt to maintain a neutral appearance on the outside as your heart twitches and your mind attempts to process the unexpected sensation. his smile is as laid-back as ever, and he continues to laugh with the group as if this is nothing unusual.

𓍯 situationship with taesan can be a little frustrating. he likes to give you mixed signals. he’s mostly all about you most of the time and he holds eye contact like you’re the only person he could see. but then the next day, he barely acknowledges your presence. he’s quiet and doesn’t speak to you. but you know what’s bad for you? the fact that you'd fold immediately bcs he really just knows how to give you butterflies right when you think he’s not interested. taesan would come up behind you, whispering to your ear saying, “i missed you today.” and you would quickly fold like you didn't just question everything about him.

𓍯 at some point, the feelings were mutual. but you got tired of going around in circles waiting for nothing to happen, so you just decided to move on and bury your feelings just to keep the friendship.

leehan

“teach me how to not care about these feelings that keep me up at night for nothing.”

𓍯 you don’t talk everyday but that’s what makes everything thrilling. and when you do talk, texting usually lasts until 3am. although you can feel the weight of your eyelids by this time, you try to stay awake just to converse with him. conversations with leehan are almost raw, something about each message is intimate—one you probably wouldn’t hear in the daylight. the thought that he actually also stays up with you makes you wonder how much he’s also feeling.

𓍯 leehan has the subtlest way of making you laugh. he’s nonchalant but he’s the type to make you intrigued without fully committing. with that being said, he knows when to pull back when he thinks you’re getting a little too attached over a situationship even if he's the one responsible for making you feel that way

𓍯 after dates, goodbyes often linger in the air. both of you enjoyed too much to actually walk away and go back home. when he stands close enough to hug you, you could feel his hand linger on your back like he’s in no rush to go back home. both of you stood there quiet, glancing at each other, enough to decipher by the look of your eyes that there are still unsaid words. “i’ll text you when i get back home.” he holds both of your hands as they slightly brush away from yours whenever he takes a step back. you know yourself you want something more from this situationship which causes your heart to ache.

𓍯 leehan is still not letting go of your hand even at the point where your fingertips are only touching each other. “let’s do that next time.” he says and adds, “sleep over.”

𓍯 and when he actually gets back home, you don't receive a text from him at all, and talked again the following days like nothing happened.

woonhak

"why does it feel like we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move?"

𓍯 it’s painfully obvious that both of you like each other. neither of you just couldn’t bring yourself up to confess. there’s always this tension that hangs heavy in the air when you’re with him. you're lounging on his couch while watching a film. with his shoulder almost touching yours, he is closer than friends should be. the couch's modest size is a flimsy excuse, but you both know there's more to it. woonhak’s arm occasionally moves, grazing yours and giving you a shiver, but he doesn't pull away. both of you are dancing around that invisible line, on the brink. his hand is getting closer and closer till your fingers would touch if you both moved even a little.

𓍯 every time you're together, you experience this torturous pulling, waiting for the other to finally release the tension that has been building for weeks. his hand moves next to yours, his fingers flexing as though he wants to grab you but isn't quite brave enough. and you can't help but wonder whether you're both simply waiting for a sign, anything that would eventually allow one of you to cross that line.

𓍯 woonhak constantly teases you, looking for excuses to rub your hair or bump into your shoulder, and he enjoys seeing how you respond to his pranks. he says something, though, that takes you entirely by surprise just when you think it's all a friendly act.

𓍯 “i feel like we’re both good at being complicated.” he chuckles. you can sense that you're both still holding back and skirting the truth because you're afraid of altering something that feels so near-perfect. but when you meet his eyes, you can see that this isn't the end of it because of the little warmth that remains in his smile.

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 3/5

For the next 3 weeks, it had become nearly impossible for Buck and Tommy to have much free time to see each other.

And see each other, in Buck’s mind, is having one on one time with Tommy, without Eddie. Sure “hanging out with the boys” was fun and all, but there was a lighter element in the air when Buck was alone with Tommy. He couldn’t quite describe it, but sometimes, he preferred it, craved it, even. He could be sitting right next to Tommy during a beer and movie night with Eddie and still feel so far away from him.

The most interesting surprise for Buck was Tommy texting him during one of their movie nights.

They shared a glance, smiling at one another.

That’s really weird. I can’t say that!

Buck tucked his lips in, trying to contain himself. Tommy was sitting close by and he didn’t want him to see a big, stupid smile on his face.

When he briefly glanced up at Tommy, he was already looking his way. Buck shot him a half-smirk and a nod, and Tommy nodded back.

His heart was racing again.

Tommy’s really cool.

The next day, Buck and Tommy met for dinner and beers. They joked, they laughed, they had a great time.

“How’ve you been doing? I know you told me plenty about how Gerrard’s been treating you. You okay?”

“As okay as I’ll ever be. I miss Bobby. The energy of the 118 is…different now. I just hate it. I love my job. But I-I hate this feeling.”

Tommy nodded in understanding. “Sometimes change can be good, but sometimes change can ruin your day-to-day life. Especially when it’s a person single-handedly trying to make your life a living hell.”

“Exactly. That’s all he’s been doing for weeks.”

Tommy looked at Buck with soft, sympathetic eyes. His gaze felt like a comforting hug, and Buck couldn’t look away. He couldn’t resist the urge to just fall in.

“Evan…I know it’s not easy.” Tommy smiled. “But you’re doing great. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Buck broke eye contact, sheepishly looking away. “I-I just feel a little defeated sometimes.”

“I’m sure Bobby will get his job back sooner or later. It’s just the natural order of things. The 118 belongs together, right?”

Buck nodded in agreement. “Right!”

“Ready to get outta here and head to the theater?”

“Uh—yeah. Let’s go.”

After seeing a double feature of two amazing films Buck had never even heard of, Tommy rode with him in an Uber back to his place and Buck offered him a cup of coffee.

“Hey, so, Wednesday, you’re coming with us for drinks, right?”

Tommy sadly sighed. “Sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”

“A-a date?” Buck forced a smile. Why did this bother him so much? “Who’s the lucky person?”

“Just…someone I met during my run.” Tommy answered dismissively. “But maybe we can do something next weekend?”

Buck nodded. “Y—ah—yeah—yeah. Next weekend sounds great.”

“Great!” Tommy looked down at his phone. “My Uber should be here in 5, I’m gonna head down. Text you when I get home.”

“Okay uh…see you later.”

Buck held his breath until the door shut behind Tommy and he let out an exasperated sigh, shoulders drooping with disappointment.

He wasn’t sure what was bothering him, until he remembered what Tommy said at dinner.

Sometimes change can be good, but sometimes change can ruin your day-to-day life. Especially when it’s a person single-handedly trying to make your life a living hell.

Not that whoever Tommy was dating would intend to make his life hell in some way, but just the thought of spending less time with Tommy made him feel a loneliness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Buck felt strangely about the way their conversation ended. He only had himself to blame for being so dismissive. He couldn’t fight the nagging thought that he had to fix it somehow.

Buck didn’t want the conversation to end. It was late, and surely they were both exhausted, but every second that passed, he felt like Tommy was slowly slipping away from him.

He hated this stupid thought. Tommy didn’t belong to him. Tommy was his friend. He was Eddie’s friend. He was everyone at the 118’s friend.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they shared a special friendship. One unlike the friendship he shared with everyone else. Buck was the only one Tommy wanted to take on weekly hiking trips. Buck was the one Tommy texted late at night to just talk and distract him from what stressed him out. In a way, Buck felt like Tommy was his.

And he was going to lose him.

[middlingmay]

Hello 😌 for the late night call prompt:

"i know you didn't just hang up on me without saying 'i love you'."

This could be so sweet (or not). Would love to see your take on it!

Hello! I'm feeling the fluff today, so I hope you like it. Thanks for the ask :) <3

John's mouth had served him both well and ill in his life.

He was funny and he was charming. He was able to spin a story and keep a table entertained. He could cheer someone up easy, diffuse arguments if he chose to. And because he could read people quick sharp, he could either make fast friends with a few choice words, or could provoke or end a fight depending on which of his more mercurial moods he was looking to feed that night.

But his favourite thing, he'd come to find over the years, was talking in a constant, rhythmic roll and lulling Gale, a notoriously poor sleeper, to a good night's sleep.

John wasn't even going to let state lines keep him from that privilege.

Work had sent him away for a couple of nights to deal with an issue and another officer. It's what he got with his reputation for being able to influence and mediate with the best of them. And of course, just two days before he was due to go, Gale fell sick. Not sick enough to warrant John calling it off; but just sick enough to worry and stress him all the way out because he wouldn't be here to take care of his Gale.

Gale who had no sympathy for his plight whatsoever.

"It's two days. I can take care of myself; I'm a big boy."

John leered without intent and moseyed into Gale's personal space. "Oh, I know."

Gale spluttered a dry cough into John's chest and struggled to get his breath back and John whined.

"Come on, Gale. Just say the word and I'll cancel. You won't have to lift a finger until you're better."

Gale pushed him off and tugged the cover he had draped around him like a cape in tighter. "No, thank you," he grimaced. "You'll hover, you'll get sick, then I'll be taking care of the two of us. Get to stepping, John. Quicker you get there, quicker you get back."

So they'd said goodbye, Gale tolerating John's too-many long looks back with barely a roll of his eyes (and John knew that was just because even his eyes were hurting). But he could kick him out the house and force him to go to work and make fun of him as much as he liked, but Gale couldn't stop John from calling him for their regular night time chatterbox sessions.

"I thought you were working," Gale drawled raspy into the phone.

"At nine pm? Not enough overtime pay in the world, sweets. How you feeling?"

Gale's answers were brief and perfunctory, but John could hear the ever-present affection even through the brevity. And John was always happy to pick up the slack. He murmured to Gale about the trip, the shit show at the office, and the gossip he entirely made up about his colleagues in another state just to keep himself entertained. He spoke about the town and the hotel, and what he had to eat. He told him every tiny detail he could think of, until he heard Gale's breaths even out and the soft snore of the congested drift across the line.

Chuckling low so as not to wake Gale, he finally hung up, proud of himself for being able to fulfil his duties even if he wasn't there in person.

But it only lasted a few seconds before his phone screen lit up, and Doll flashed across the screen. John swiped and lifted the phone to his ear to hear Gale's thick, sleepy reprimand.

"I know you didn't just hang up on me without saying I love you."

John grinned wide and dimpled and all teeth and gum at Gale's grumpy complaint. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. How rude."

"Mmph." Offended. Like a puffed up cat. John could practically see the displeased frown in the centre of Gale's brow.

"I love you. Now go to sleep."

"Mmph." Contented. Pleased. Maybe with that tiny little smile Gale had that pulled his apple cheeks up.

John stayed on the phone long past Gale's return to sleep. Just in case.

[arc-misadventures]

It Was That Easy?!

Jaune, and Coco:

~~~

Velvet: That was fucking it?!!

Coco: Yeah...

Velvet: You two have been dancing around each other for months! And, what finally gets you two to start dating was the fact that you two wouldn't hang out as much if you started dating other people?!

Coco: Yes...?

Velvet: We tried to set you up for months! A simple conversation got you together?!

Coco: You tried to set me up?

Velvet: We locked you in a closet!

Coco: Oh, I remember that closet... That was quite cramped...

Velvet: The time we stole all his clothes so you would walk in on him naked!

Coco: My man looks like a marble statue. Mmmh~! Those abbs~!

Velvet: The tickets you gave you guys to go to that resort in, Vaccuo! You two were all alone, and you didn't do anything?!

Coco: We defiantly had plenty of beach suit fashion shows. For the record: Speedos do not word on, Jaune. That bulge... I have various mixed feelings after seeing that...

Velvet: We spiked your food!

Coco: You spiked our food?!

Velvet: There was faunas grade aphrodisiacs in your food! And, nothing happened?!

Coco: Wait, was that in the fish dish you made us. Because we had the runs after eating that.

Velvet: All that planning, all that work, all our scheming, and none of that work?!

Coco: Sorry...?

Velvet: That's it! You're going to the closet!

Coco: What?

~~~

Velvet: Get in there!

Coco: Whoa hey, Vel, what are you...?! Ooph!

Jaune: Uhh... Hey, Coco...?

Coco: Jaune...?

Velvet: This time you better do it!

Nora: Or, I'll spike your food again!

(Slam!)

Jaune: ...?

Coco: ...?

Jaune: So... I take it, Velvet let you know about her schemes to get us together too right?

Coco: Yeah, apparently she was the reason why were locked in a closet for the first time. And, she stole all your clothes so I would walk in on you naked. Got us those tickets so we could stay at that resort. And, she spiked out food.

Jaune: Oh, it was , Velvet who did that. Nora told me a different story about what she did.

Coco: What did she do?

Jaune: That resort we were staying at actually had two beds in it, Nora some how got rid of one of them.

Coco: What? The bed was made into the wall; How did she do that?

Jaune: Best not ask. She actually go that distress call from when we got stuck in the cabin in the mountain.

Coco: She did?

Jaune: Yeah, she wanted us to... mingle to stay warm before she rescued us the next day.

Coco: Posing naked in furs was certainly a way to mingle...

Jaune: And, she spiked our food...

Coco: And, after she learned that we got together because we didn't want to stop hanging out, she shoved you in the closet as well...

Jaune: Yeah... And, while i wouldn't mind us having some fun here in the closet~!

Coco: Oh, really~?

Jaune: But, they put us in the wrong closet...

Coco: Eh?

Jaune: It's too cramped, I can't move...

Coco: Grr... come one. I can...?! Grrrr...! I'm stuck too...

Jaune: Can you reach my scroll?

Coco: Nope, my hands our stuck here feeling up your broad chest~! You?

Jaune: Maybe...? Let's see if I can... Ahh found it! Uhh... Password?

Coco: 0-2-2-4.

Jaune: Okay... Calling...? Glynda...

Coco: Good choice.

Glynda: Hello, Coco do you need something?

Coco: Hi, Triple G! Uhhh... So, Jaune, and I started dating...

Glynda: You two started dating?!

Coco: Yes... and...?!

Glynda: Fucking finally!

Coco: ...

Jaune: ...

Coco: We should have started dating months ago...

Jaune: Yeah...

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ So I was listening to “They’re only human” Death note the musical and this come out of the brain so here you gremlins go! }~

🌌🌙The Solar🌙🌌

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If someone asked danny what he thought his life in the future would look like he would have said something like “Of course I will be an astronaut!” Or something to that effect

But what he did not expect was for him to have a protective and strong ass husband [Who is phantom and now the Ghost king and isn’t that something] with a little toddler who is 2 ( Dani who will be called dawn in this ) and a little protective toddler who is 4 (Dan who is called dusk) who he loves more than anything

And gain a ghost family who adores him (but for the price of another) who put up with his husband and adore him as well as spoil his Sun and Moon rotten

Now let’s see how this become as it has shall we?

====================================

Danny was having a bad day, first he almost miss class again [due to a mix of being to exhausted to get up on his on from fighting ghosts all night and with jazz being busy with college hunting so she couldn’t wake him up and his parents don’t even know what time he wakes up at for school]

Second Dash wouldn’t leave him alone and it was becoming hard to keep himself..well not really himself but recently he’s been feeling this that for a better word are not his to feel like when a ghost hit a bit to hard to feels rage and protectiveness wash over him anyway back to this.

Third Sam and Tucker were both out for separate reasons for Sam her parents had some kind of rich people thing to do and dragged her with them and tucker with his family were going to visit some relatives so yeah Danny had no one to hang out with.

Third apparently they had a test in English that nobody told Danny about so he knows he is going to fail that and some other things but it would get to long if we bought all that up but you get the point

So when Danny gets back home and all he wants to do is go to his room change into phantom and hug/chill himself out who is anyone to deny him [Like with the feeling feels that weren’t his, yeah he got the habit after a very bad day where his parents shot him in the back of the leg and it hurt bad so he hugged himself and apparently it was the right thing to do because he started to feel better! Not physically no it still hurt like a motherfucker but emotionally yes so he started to do that when ever he felt he needed comfort]

So Danny goes to his bedroom [not noticing the tall orange figure following him up] and closes the door [it was left ajar just enough for someone to look in] and changes into phantom but he hears the door open the door and he turns to see his dad looking at him

And the next thing he knows is a red hot pain coming from his side and blacks out

=====================================

It has been a week a long and painful week since his parents found out

After Jack [NEVER dad never again] he brought him down to the lab and tied him to a table and did…unspeakable things to him…have been doing this to him for a week

After two days Danny heard two more wails and he recognized the voices it was dan and Dani! [his children] and they were hurting them, Danny tired to get their attention to him to get them away from them but the damage was done and Dani and Dan went into their cores due to the damage but thank the ancients the cores were basically a undamageable and none of their weapons work on them

So that turns all their attention on him and how that would be their downfall [and the whole dimensions with them]

On day five is when Danny’s human “half” gives out due to no food or water and with the torture Maddie and Jack have inflicted on him it wasn’t really a surprise but what was when phantom and Danny unfazed and phantom was pissed they hurt Danny [his husband] they hurt Dani and Dan [his children] they weren’t getting of easy

So well they were fighting the now fully ghost Danny gets out from his restraints and grabs Dani and dans cores and pushes them inside him to heal them by essentially force feeding their cores clean ecto

Than phantom grabs him and pulls him fast to the portal and the go through and as they do they destroy the portal [not knowing that in doing that they let out all the built-up ecto and that essentially bombs the dimension taking everything with it]

And now that brings Danny here after healing and when the children cores got enough ecto that they could come out [as well as speed running a very loving relationship that is still going very strong]

And now Danny is very happy with his life now or well after-life

=====================================

~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~

When Damian got into a fight with father he expected to be benched as Robin for a few days or a week what he was not expecting was for father to assigned him to go and watch a warehouse that is known for not having been used for anything for longer than Damien himself has been alive [it’s due to a cult that hangs around there not that the bats know that]

So now here is Damien tide up in surprisingly good rope that he can not break free from in the middle of a summoning circle and waiting for the other to get here while the cultist surrounds the circle and start to speak in a language Damian does not understand and Damian doesn’t believe anything will happen

Until the summoning circle turns into a portal and Damian falls through as the others get there to help him

The last thing Damien remembers before he passes out is someone yelling after a while Damian wakes up in a bed…? A very soft large bed with a lot of space and as Damien takes in his surroundings he hears a door opening and as he turns his head to look he sees a tall man…? Woman? Person let’s go with that

They walk over to him and start cooing? At him and  fretting over him [✨Mom instincts✨] and stuff a few days? [time is weird Damian has found] and the person has started to bring him with them as they walk around [Danny wants the little child to get some air and cleaner Ecto] and he has met the person’s children who are named dusk and dawn respectively and they have taken him as their older brother he believes this is due to the person [who he now knows his name is Solar, it’s not just everyone calls him that due to his space obsession] calls him his Stars much like how he calls this children his Sun and Moon

And with meeting Solar with Dawn and Dusk it is a guarantee that Damien was to meet Solar infamous husband Phantom [who he has heard about from the whispers of some of the working staff] and it goes pretty well [not that Phantom can do shit to this child his husband has already taken him in as his own] so he lets the child stay for how long as he likes

Meanwhile with the Batfam

The Batfam are freaking TF out about where Damian is and is he safe OMG-

=====================================

~{ And that’s all I can really do with the DCU part I am very tired if you can’t tell and now onto the details! }~

Now for Danny outfit I’m thinking something like this

With this over coat

And for hair/hair ornaments

And for phantom you know the drill blue-greenish skin, white hair and pointy ears

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ And that is about it! Sorry if the last part is weird I am very tired and sleepy anyway I hope you guys like this and see you gremlins later byeeee }~

[lovecla]

TAKE IT EASY (OTHERWISE I’M LEAVING) | connor bedard.

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, single chapter:

ᡣ𐭩 — pair: connor bedard x fmc (olivia)

ᡣ𐭩 — synopsis: in which connor bedard’s girlfiend, olivia, is tired of seeing her boyfriend destroy himself every single day.

ᡣ𐭩 — word count: 3.1k

ᡣ𐭩 — chapter warnings: inspired by the song “you” by chase atlantic, angst, hurt with a dash of comfort.

ᡣ𐭩 — from me to you: the second chase atlantic released this album i knew i had to write something inspired by it. i missed writing for bedsy and since he’s our golden, hardworking boy, i thought this was very fitting. hope u like it 🤍

ᯓᡣ𐭩

but you've been diggin' up the truth

haven't slept in like four nights now

blame it on substance abuse

out in the deep end, i'm swimmin', i'm swimmin' again

YOU WOKE up startled with the loud bang coming from somewhere inside your apartment, your whole body jumping and your heart starting to race inside your chest.

Now, almost fully awake, you stare at the clock sitting on your bedside table, reading the time. 4:13 a.m., and when you pat the other side of the bed, where your boyfriend of two years should be laying, you frown as you find it empty and lukewarm to the touch.

“Connor?” You whisper, scared to wake him up unnecessarily, even if you knew he wasn’t lying with you in bed. Again.

You get up, the fabric of his old Blackhawks sweater heating up your skin, as you put on your slippers and leave the bedroom, noticing traces of Connor’s absence here and there— his slippers aren’t by his side of the bed, his duffel bag isn’t on the hallway like it usually is, his water bottle isn’t on the couch like he had left it last night, when you both went no sleep at one in the morning.

So that’s why you don’t understand what he’s doing by the front door, ready to leave, even if he had only slept for three hours.

“Connor?” You call again, watching as his blue eyes look at you, surprise and guilt decorating his expression like a famous painting hanging on the Louvre’s wall. “What are you doing?”

Your voice is still soft, and despite the scare, your eyes can barely stay open. You’re tired, tonight was the first night you had allowed yourself to sleep freely since now you were done with your exams. And you were happy because you managed to convince Connor to come home earlier, at eleven instead of midnight, just so you could spend some time together, like you used to do when you started dating.

“Liv, hey,” he whispers, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. The bag, the stick on his hand, the outfit. He’s—

“Are you serious right now?” You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re going to the rink? At four in the morning?”

“Baby, you know I need to,” he tries to sound convincing and if it wasn’t for the fact that this is probably the hundredth time he’s done this, you would’ve actually believed him. “We have a game coming up and—”

“Yes, I am well aware of that, Connor. But you went to sleep at one. Two nights ago, you also went to sleep at one and woke up at five. And the night before, and the night before that too.”

You don’t try to hide your feelings anymore. You want him to know you’re upset, and you want him to know that this, whatever the hell he’s doing, isn’t okay.

“I know, baby, but you know I have to keep practicing so I can help the guys.” He’s now facing you, his body visibly tense.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Connor, what the hell. There are other twenty fucking people in your team, you’re not the only player there. It’s not your responsibility only!” You cover your face with your hands, truly upset.

“Liv,” he calls your name, and it hurts to even hear it, because his voice is so full of guilt and shame. It makes you feel sick. “You’re not being reasonable right now. This is the NHL. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. There are people counting on me.”

“And I’m not one of them?” You whisper, making eye contact again, only to realize you’re not strong enough to have this conversation at four in the morning.

“Liv—”

“It’s fine, Connor. Go to practice.” You sigh, making your way back to the bedroom, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

you said, "take it easy, otherwise i'm leaving

yeah, i don't wanna stay and watch you die",

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CONNOR HAD an injury.

His jaw had been fractured, and he had to go to surgery to fix it. You were in the arena watching the game with Connor’s sister when it happened, and you had never been so scared.

You know Hockey is about hitting people as much as it is about playing and winning, but you won’t lie and say your heart doesn’t hurt inside your chest whenever you see Connor getting hurt on the ice.

And you aren’t dumb. You know that some players will purposefully hurt him just because he’s good. And even if people aren’t one hundred percent sure that that is what happened that night, you still remember the terrible feeling of losing when you were in the ambulance with Connor to the hospital, trying your hardest not to cry in front of anyone because you know what they would say.

She’s not tough enough to date a NHL player.

But you believed yourself to be tough. The only problem with all of this is that you knew Bedard would never take great care of himself, meaning that you’d have to be with him twenty-four-seven, which wouldn’t be a problem, if only he accepted your help.

Now, four weeks after the surgery, you’re inside the United Center, the Blackhawks arena in Chicago, stomping your feet as you walk towards the rink, the sound of your steps being muffled by Connor’s constant skating.

“Connor.”

You have to call him a few times so that he can finally get out of his head and look at you; once again, those blameworthy eyes looking down at you, as he skates closer to the benches where you were standing.

“Liv.”

“What do you think you’re doing, Connor?” You snap. “You’re supposed to be resting. You’re definitely not supposed to be on the ice.”

“I know, but my jaw is just fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” He removes his helmet, running his gloved hand through his hair.

“It didn’t seem like it was fine last night when you had to swallow a bunch of pain pills because it was hurting. Connor, don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You can feel your face heating up, and you’re trying so hard to keep your shit together but— “You have to allow your body to rest. If you keep up with this, you won’t get better—”

“That’s not an option, Liv, and you know it,” he hissed back, now looking more distressed than guilty. “This is my life. And I did allow myself to rest, I spent four weeks doing absolutely nothing, just like the doctor asked me to.”

“He said six to eight weeks, Connor,” you sigh, tired, not actually believing you’re having this conversation with him. “Please. Just think about how I feel when I know you’re not well enough to be here yet you still are.”

He pressed his lips together, placing his stick on the floor next to him and moving his helmet around his hands.

“Liv, you know I love you but this— Hockey is what I am. It’s what I do. You have to understand—”

“And I have done nothing but understand you!” You shout, finally losing your cool and snapping at him, your loud voice echoing through the empty arena’s walls. Connor takes a step back, but now you’ve already started and you won’t can’t stop. “Ever since we met, I have been nothing but understanding. I stood by your side at all times, even when what you were doing wasn’t healthy for you!”

“Olivia—”

“I went to sleep alone and cried more nights than you could ever imagine,” your voice cracks, and your stubborn tears are already rolling down your face. “I still supported you no matter what. I cooked your meals, I packed your bags, I went to those ridiculous gala dinners and I did it all with pleasure because I love you and you’re supposed to do these types of things for the people you love!”

“Baby—”

“So you don’t get to stand in front of me and ask me to understand how badly you treat yourself and how you don’t care about anything else besides Hockey when I gave up everything to be with you!” You try to wipe your face, stepping back when Connor tries to reach you. He frowns when you flinch. “I gave up my freedom because I wanted to be with you and God knows I’d do it all over again because I fucking love you.”

“Baby, I know all of this and I’m grateful, I really am but—”

You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head. “There’s always a but with you.”

“Hockey is important to me, baby.”

“And I am not.”

The silence after your words is cruel, and it tears you apart, scratching your skin and making your insides hurt. His blue eyes, your favorite color to ever exist, are also filled with tears and you hate to see it. You hate to feel bad about saying these things.

The thing about loving someone is that the thread between giving up yourself for them and giving yourself to them is really thin.

You love Connor Bedard. Have loved him for years now. He makes you happy, he listens to you, he’s your best friend.

“You know that’s not true, Liv,” he gets closer, the sound of his skates hitting the ice making you want to puke. “You know you’re more important to me than any of this. You know I love you.”

“No, Connor, I don’t,” you whisper, smiling even when all you feel is pain. “I can’t do this. I won’t watch you d-destroy yourself and not do anything.”

He removes his gloves quickly and grabs your wrist, cold fingers holding your arm down. “Olivia, wait.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I need time. Sorry.”

You don’t look at his face as you leave the arena, and you certainly don’t listen to his voice shouting your name, over and over again.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

i don't know what to do

i’m stuck in a loop, stuck in a loop

ᯓᡣ𐭩

HE WATCHES you talking to the children from afar.

You’re sitting on the floor, and it’s so obvious you’re better different from everyone else at the party. The children surround you like you’re their favorite princess or superhero, all of them wanting a little bit of your attention.

Connor feels like he should be offended, since those kids were there to see his team in the first place. It was some kind of reunion Foligno arranged with the media team, inviting some of his son’s friends and some other children with less opportunities.

But he isn’t. First of all, he’s thankful because if it weren’t for your charm, he would be the one having to deal with the children, something he wasn’t very fond of. Sure, he likes kids and he’s happy they like him, but if he could avoid social interactions, he would.

Besides that, watching you happy is something that he had missed, and he feels like shit for it. He knows he hasn’t been a good boyfriend, and he knows he should do better. Ever since that one night at the rink, you haven’t been the same.

But if he thinks about it too much, he realizes that you haven’t been yourself for a long time now.

And it hurts.

It hurts because he doesn’t know what to do. He loves you, the very first girl he fell in love with, but he also loves Hockey. As a young player in the NHL, he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself to others, and since people give him so much attention, he needs to keep on being a good player.

He doesn’t know how to balance things, how not to spend hours and hours without end on the ice, muting all of his doubts and worries while he keeps throwing the puck in the net.

You smile at a little boy who’s now handing you a flower, and Connor smiles as he watches you ask the little boy to put it on your hair, laughing when the other kids stop their babbling to clap at your newest look.

You make eye contact with him, and he feels himself getting devastated when he notices that the shine in your eyes lessened a little when you looked at him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

(why do you hate me?)

i could never hate you, despite the words that you've been sayin'

i’ve been having breakthroughs

and hoping you were proud, just maybe

anxiety drives me insane, and my newest addiction is pain

i know i said it was a ‘phase’

five years later, still stuck in my brain

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CLOSING THE front door with a sigh, you let your first sob out. The tears won’t stop, and you don’t bother to wipe them, it would be pointless.

All you want to do is slide down to the floor and stay there, letting the hardwood hurt your back and get you dirty, but you can’t. Your car decided to break in the middle of the road on your way back from college, and you had to walk until you found the nearest telephone to call your insurance company, which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for the terrible storm going on, the water drops penetrating your thin shirt like you weren’t even wearing anything in the first place.

It’s just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong, but you’re already so fed up with life lately that this all seems too much.

“Liv? What happened, baby?”

You lift your head up faster than you should've, because now you can see tiny, black dots floating around in your vision. You weren’t expecting to see Connor at your house, much less wearing the apron you gave him when he prepared his first dish by himself two years ago— a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Connor,” you whisper, not looking him in the eye. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I texted you,” he says, removing the apron that read “cook it yourself, cunt”. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

You don’t say anything, mostly because you’re certain that if you let one little word slip past your lips you’ll start crying uncontrollably once again, so you just shake your head and leave your things on the floor beside you, walking past him so you could get to your room.

He’s quick to follow, though, watching as you remove your wet clothes and get in the shower, both of you silent and lost in your own thoughts.

Not talking to Connor about your feelings feels weird, but you can’t help but feel like you’re holding him back. It’s sickening, because all you want is to stay with him and be happy, but sometimes loving is also letting go.

You get out of the shower, feeling the tears coming back when you spot the change of clothes Connor left for you on top of the toilet lid— his shirt, his pants, your favorite panties.

He knows you too well. He knows who you are as a person and he knows who you want to become. He knows your fears and your ambitions, he knows your dreams and hopes. He knows what you stand for and what you absolutely despise.

He knows you.

You change, and leave the bathroom quickly, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep for days.

“Some lady from your insurance company just called, saying your car will be ready next week,” Connor says, and only then you noticed he’d been standing next to your wardrobe the entire time, crossed arms in front of his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me your car was broken?”

You shrug. “I knew you were at practice. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you walked home? In the rain?” You can tell by his tone that he’s upset, but there’s nothing much you can do.

“I mean, what did you want me to do?” You scoff. “My phone died and I had no cash on me. And honestly, we both know that you would never leave the ice for something like this.”

“Liv, you know that’s not true,” he whispers, getting closer to you. “You know that I’d leave at any moment if I even knew you needed me.”

“Whatever,” you mumble before reaching for your phone in your bag, the device thankfully still dry, and put it to charge, removing the hundreds of pillows you have on top of your bed and throwing them on the carpet floor, already visualizing the amazing sleep you’d have.

“What are you doing?” You feel his hands on your back, his body closer to yours than it’s been in a while. “You haven’t had dinner yet. I cooked…”

His sad tone makes you break again, and you hate yourself for it. But you still love him so much, and it hurts to see what you’ve become.

“Liv, please, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, turning you around and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’ll fix it, I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“Can you fix us?” You whisper, resting your head against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. He smells like home and the winter. “Can you fix what we’ve become?”

He’s quiet for a while, long fingers caressing your hair, like he used to do back when you had started dating.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” he whispers back, and you can finally hear genuineness in his voice. “You’re everything to me, baby, and I won’t lose you.”

“I’m not asking you to give up on Hockey,” you explain, watching as your tears stain his shirt. “I’m just asking you to take care of yourself. Connor, I need you to take care of yourself.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry,” he kisses your cheek, the first time his lips touch you in more than two weeks. “I’m so sorry.”

You listen to his heartbeat and sigh, choosing not to say anything. You know the only way you can find out if he’s being genuine or not is with time, because only it will tell if you’re fixable or not.

But as you let yourself sleep close to his body that night, losing yourself between the sheets and his arms, you can finally breathe again.

Because he said he’ll try, and Connor Bedard always tries his hardest with everything.

[lelianasbong]

Hello! I just found your blog and I've been looking at some of your DA tags (good stuff btw) and I was wondering: how do you feel about Merrill's rivalry path? specifically the Rivalry romance

Thank you! I try to be thorough with tags so things are easy to find/avoid.

I strongly prefer Merrill's friendship path because so much of her rivalry path - romanced or not - has (human) Hawke lecturing her (a Dalish First who's spent her entire life being primed for the position of Keeper to the point where she "was always a bit secluded. I studied magic and history while others were learning the Vir Tanadhal") about..... magic, spirits and elven history. Not only is she more qualified than Hawke, everything she says is validated by consecutive games.

On top of that... living in Kirkwall, Merrill is isolated from her people and she feels it keenly. She's lonely. No one understands or encourages her research besides possibly Hawke. Marethari risks an ancient ritual for Feynriel but acts like Merrill cleansing the fractured Eluvian is not only inconceivable but undesirable. Even her clanmates call her flat ear when they're not calling her a monster - and then she has to trudge back to Kirkwall where humans bark at her and half the people she hangs out with call her stupid to her face or otherwise treat her like a child.

I just think she deserves to have someone in her corner for once, you know? Someone who believes in her, who sees her for the intelligent, capable young woman she is.

That said, I think her rivalry path can still be narratively interesting even if it's not my cup of tea?? A Hawke who's deeply terrified of blood magic and thinks about Good Spirits and Bad Demons in very black and white terms but still finds themselves drawn to Merrill would be messy and dramatic, there's just an extra level of ick with human Hawke deciding they're better informed about any of this than Merrill is.

[evergardenwall]

a few things i've been doing and that you should do to help with feelings of anxiety/doom:

1) first, literally, disable notifications from news outlets apps, and stop watching live 24/7 tv news. like. at least, for me, it helps, because this shit triggers so much anxiety in me, and makes me spiral; i much prefer looking up the news from my own volition. even if it is also anxiety-inducing, it is not as overwhelming and i feel like i have some control/can process information better

2) spend time with your loved ones irl. hug them, talk about what you're feeling if this can help, or do an activity together that can distract you! back in april 2022, between the two rounds of the french election, i was having a full mental breakdown, and my mum took me on a day out, visiting local villages and just. getting out of the house and visiting other place and breathing fresh air helped a lot.

3) kind of a followup to 2) but, go on a walk ! pace around, breathe the outside air—i cannot stress it enough, it helps with calming down racing thoughts, at least for me :)

4) if you are having difficulty to eat/have no appetite, please, eat a little something anyway; having an empty stomach does not help. go for something easy to prepare and/or a safe food. i just had a banana and a bowl of cereal for lunch—not the most conventional lunch, i know, but at least, i ate something even though i wasn't feeling hungry and nothing motivated me to eat :')

5) if you are feeling intrusive thoughts, feeling like you are responsible for the outcome of this election, and feeling guilty for not doing enough — please, please, don't guilt-trip yourself. you did what you could. this is something way bigger than us, an accumulation of many things, including structural racism, inequalities in access to voting, the gradual rise of fascism, and the system being deeply flawed, all the harmful shit that stayed from the orange man's first term and which long-term consequences built up to this.

6) please, remember that your vote wasn't worthless. i promise. you did the right thing by getting out of your house, going to the polling station, waiting in line for hours to make your voice heard, and i am deeply thankful you did it. genuinely. and remember that this election was going to be close. i'm not saying that there isn't criticism to be made about people who refused to vote, or voted third party — they have a huge responsibility —, but you, the average person worried about the democracy, who showed up and voted blue? i do not want you to feel like your vote was useless and give up. please.

7) remember that very bad things have happened in the past too, yet we're still here. hang on this fact. we're alive, and we're here.

8) repeat of 2 but: you should hug your loved ones. and i am sending you hugs, too—especially if you're from a vulnerable demographic (a racial minority, LGBTQ+, etc.) 🫂 you are not alone!

[baekhyunsbestie]

──★ easy peasy ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: a lil prequel to all mine :') baekhyun n cupcake are back to show y'all how it all started hehe

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 4.6k words 😭 this was supposed to b waaayyyy shorter omg whatevz. baekhyun x f!reader. scenes with weed + alcohol, mutual pining, friends to fwb, pet names, lots of swearing. SMUT!!! literally porn w plot, masturbation (both m + f), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, praise, p in v. baekhyun is pretty obsessive in this. ALSO. i do not, i repeat, i do not recommend reading this with 'woo' on repeat 😭😵‍💫😮‍💨💦‼️‼️‼️‼️

it was just another ordinary gathering with friends when it all began. this time, the casual hangout took place in baekhyun’s cozy apartment, where the atmosphere was warm and inviting. laughter echoed off the walls, mingling with the cheerful clinking of glasses, while the sweet, heady scent of alcohol hung in the air as the evening stretched on.

nights like these felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven where you could truly be yourself and let the weight of the day melt away. surrounded by the people you loved, who loved you just as deeply in return. every inside joke shared, every story recounted, and every laugh exchanged spun a kind of magic into the night, reminding you just how deeply you cherished the core memories you were creating together.

as the party winds down and only you and baekhyun remain, you slip out onto the patio for your familiar ritual—a quick smoke session that signals the end of the night. it’s a moment where you both unwind, getting high while sharing a candid debrief about the evening's antics. just typical bestie behavior, sharing thoughts and laughter as the stars twinkle above you.

the sharp november air bites against your skin, and you shiver, muttering a curse under your breath. baekhyun chuckles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement—until his gaze drifts downward to your chest. his laughter fades as he takes in the way your shirt clings to you in the cold, the night revealing your hardened nipples.

a quiet tension hangs between you as you feel his gaze lingering, tracing the outline of your chest and making your pulse quicken. with a smooth motion, he slips his jacket over your shoulders, wrapping you in its warmth and his subtle, rough scent. it’s a gentle gesture, his fingers brushing against your arms, as if he’s protecting not just your warmth but also his own restraint, which is damn near close to breaking.

the sight of you wrapped up in his jacket sets off a sense of possessiveness in him. he becomes oblivious to the biting chill of the night air; his focus is solely on you, swallowed whole by the oversized fabric, the sleeves hanging far past your fingertips, a reminder of how small you look next to him.

for what feels like the first time—or maybe the third or fifth, though he’s lost count—his mind wanders, slipping into a vivid fantasy. he pictures you beneath him, pinned to his mattress, your legs drawn tight against your chest in a rough, mating press. the weight of his hold keeps you breathless, your sweet voice pleading, again and again, for him to give you more, more, more.

he can picture it so clearly, as if it's already unfolding beneath him: your body trembling, not from the sharp bite of the autumn night air prickling your skin like it is now, but from the relentless waves of pleasure he’ll coax out of you—with his cock, his fingers, his mouth. hell, with anything he can use to unravel you.

the smoke curls lazily between you as you both finish up your shared joint. he flicks the remnants into the ashtray, a sense of urgency igniting in his eyes. “we, uh... we should head in,” he mutters, his voice rough and low. “got a busy morning tomorrow... better get to bed.” 

and before you fully register it, he’s guiding you inside, his hand resting gently at the small of your back as he leads you through the sliding door of his patio and into the warmth of his living room. 

he tries to reason with himself, insisting it’s only natural for his mind to drift this way. you’re his best friend, after all, and the two of you are practically inseparable. surely, this infatuation will fade soon enough. maybe all he needs is a quick release to clear his head. 

yeah, that’s it—rubbing one out would certainly do the trick.

he walks you down to your car, tugging the zipper of his oversized jacket up to your chin, his voice soft as he murmurs, “don’t want ya freezing on the way from here to your place.” you glance down, and a flicker of surprise flashes across your face as you realize this is the first time you’ve ever worn anything of his, despite years of friendship. the weight of that thought lingers for just a moment before you let it drift away, replaced by the warmth blooming in your chest. with a bright smile, you look up at him, your heart swelling as you thank him sweetly for being so thoughtful. 

you try to ignore the faint blush rises on his cheeks as he glances down, trying to conceal his smile. his hands are buried in the pockets of his sweats, and he fidgets nervously, kicking at the loose gravel beneath his feet. “what are best friends for?” he says, his voice more tender than usual.

when it’s finally time to say goodbye, he wraps his arms around you in a hug, heart pounding as he silently prays you won’t feel the very obvious, painfully hard strain against his sweats. when you slip into the driver’s seat, your eyes lock onto his and you flash him one last, innocent smile that sends butterflies coursing through his stomach. you close the door and pull off, leaving him standing there questioning if you noticed.

later on under the burning heat of the shower, he closes his eyes tight, trying to drown out his intoxicating thoughts of you. his hand moves rhythmically, driven by primal need, as he desperately searches for distractions—flickers of past flings, the latest porn he’s watched, anything to steer his mind away from you. 

he feels like he’s finally almost there, his hand moving with frantic urgency, desperate to break free from the overwhelming tension coiling within him. but just as pleasure hovers on the edge of white-hot ecstasy, his mind betrays him, and all he can see is you—wrapped in nothing but his jacket, your body beautifully wrecked beneath him, pleading him for more.

as he reaches his climax, your name falls through his lips in a breathless whisper. he swears he can feel your fingers gripping his thighs, your warm breath mingling with the steam in the shower. the thought of your eyes locked onto his, your soft, wet tongue teasingly tracing the pronounced vein along the underside of his shaft sends him spiraling over the edge, intensifying his orgasm. in that moment, everything feels achingly real, as if you’re right there with him.

as he comes down from the haze, his gaze is drawn to the remnants of his cum splattered against the shower wall, glistening droplets sliding down the drain. typically, the post-nut clarity pulls him back to reality, often accompanied by a wave of disgust and self-loathing for crossing a line. but tonight feels…different. a warm heat blooms in his chest, igniting a newfound hunger within him.  

sure, he’s had his share of fantasies about you—he can’t deny how those innocent brushes of your fingertips against his skin sends blood rushing straight to his cock. and that smile of yours, wide and bright, makes his heart race; your eyes sparkle with delight as you look up at him, as if he’s the one lighting up the entire sky when he finally agrees to beat that level for you in your video game.

how on earth could he possibly say no to you when you're batting your lashes up at him with that sweet, innocent look, and pouting those soft, irresistible lips of yours? the sight alone leaves him painfully hard, and he has no choice but to excuse himself to the restroom, desperate to hide the effect you’ve had on him.

but until now, he’s never fully indulged in thoughts of you. yet here he is, for the first time in fifteen years of friendship, finding his pleasure intertwined with visions of you, his best friend.

a few hours later, he’s lying in bed, tossing and turning, consumed by restlessness and agitation. the image of you returning his jacket sends his mind racing—a potent blend of your scent mingling with his, sparking a heat that has him hard all over again. his fingers tighten around his cock as he imagines burying his face in that jacket, inhaling deeply while picturing you draped in nothing but it, reaching for your own pleasure. the mere thought drives him wild, spiraling him deeper into a whirlwind of desire he can’t seem to shake.

and holy fuck—the intensity of his fantasy seizes him, raw and unrelenting. his mind is consumed by the vision of you in his jacket, your fingers slipping into the heat between your thighs. just imagining those delicate digits of yours barely peeking from the ends of his sleeves, the fabric dampened by your slickness, sends his pulse racing like a wild drumbeat.

he pictures you, his jacket collar clutched between your teeth, muffling your moans as you surrender to the pleasure. your brows knit together, unraveling at the thought of him alone. each wave of euphoria slams into him—unforgiving, all-consuming—leaving him gasping. this fantasy floods his senses, his body tense and trembling, until he’s left breathless and spent, the sheets and his skin slick with his release.

the crushing realization hits him like a ton of bricks: he is utterly, irrevocably fucked, with no way back from this.

the next time you come over, it’s a casual, spur-of-the-moment visit—just the two of you, like so many times before. you try not to think anything of it; after all, you've hung out alone countless times without ever tiptoeing past that boundary. still, the idea that tonight might be different crosses your mind a few times.

and baekhyun is savoring every second of this, his gaze lingering a little too long, his smiles a little too knowing. to him, this feels like an opportunity—a chance he’s been waiting for, maybe even one he’s unconsciously prepared for. he’s decided to let himself lean in, to test the waters, eager to see just how far you're willing to go.

what he doesn’t realize is that you, too, have been lost in fantasies of him since that night. you recall the way his gaze lingered on your chest, the heat rising in his cheeks as his throat bobbed with an audible swallow when he caught sight of your hardened nipples, teasingly revealed by the biting cold wind. you had intentionally chosen to forgo a bra, not just for comfort but also, perhaps, to invite his gaze just a little longer.

you know you’re attractive; the combination of your looks and your captivating personality makes you the whole package. countless men have admired and pursued you, but none have sparked the same intense yearning within you as baekhyun does. perhaps it’s the thrill of wanting something you shouldn’t, or maybe it’s the enticing pull of crossing the line with a friend, the sweet taboo that makes it all the more exhilarating.

of course, you’ve had crushes on baekhyun. of course, you found him attractive. but what could you do? after what felt like an eternity of friendship, the last thing you wanted was to jeopardize what you had by crossing a line he might never want to tread.

but the darkness that flickered in his eyes, combined with his blatant struggle to contain the desire simmering within him that night, revealed everything you needed to know.

he wants you, too.

and here you are, perched on one of the barstools at his kitchen island, your eyes sparkling as he pours you a glass of wine, both of you laughing over an inside joke. you tell yourself that this small crush will eventually fade; it’s not the first time you’ve felt this way. these feelings come in waves, and you try to convince yourself this time will be no different. 

yet, deep down, you know that if he ever dared to cross that boundary, you wouldn’t be totally opposed to it. the idea of a friends-with-benefits arrangement with baekhyun sounds undeniably tempting. you both would have your needs satisfied and it comes with the comfort of someone you trust completely.

but you can’t ignore the glaring red flags; it’s a recipe for chaos, waiting to unravel.

you find yourself lost in thought, mesmerized by how annoyingly charming he looks in that simple black long sleeve that hugs his frame just perfectly. the gold chrome heart necklace catches the light, glinting against his skin and accentuating the prominent veins in his neck that pulse with each of his infectious laughs. you can almost envision trailing soft, sweet kisses along that path, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lush lips.

you imagine the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you kiss him, tasting the subtle blend of cedarwood and bergamot lingering on your tongue. you wonder which spot would elicit the sweetest gasp from him—the tender area just to the side of his neck or the delicate skin beneath his earlobe? the thought makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

suddenly, his hand moves unexpectedly, sending a dark crimson splash of wine cascading across your top. it’s purely accidental, yet a thrill courses through him as he realizes what he’s done, a mischievous grin spreading across his face that he tries to wipe away.

for a brief moment, his gaze lingers on how the wine-darkened fabric clings to you, revealing hints of your shape beneath. his heart races, a blend of guilt and something deeper surging in his chest, but he quickly recovers, moving to grab you a clean shirt from his bedroom.

“ya tryna’ steal all my clothes or somethin’? first my jacket, now my shirt. unbelievable,” he teases with a light smack of his lips, his tone dripping with mock exasperation as he hands you the oversized garment with a playful smirk. “i should start chargin’ you.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as you take it from him. “whatever, i bet you like seeing me in your clothes, baek.” 

as you head toward his bedroom to change, you catch a glimmer in his eye, a playful twinkle, and a teasing smirk curls at the corners of his lips. “maybe i do, cupcake,” he says, his voice low and inviting, making your heart race just a little faster.

the moment baekhyun sees you wrapped in his shirt, it’s game fucking over. it’s as if he’s left his mark on you, claiming you with the very fabric that clings to your skin. his clothes carry his scent, embody his essence, and now they’re draped over you.

he feels himself straining painfully against his pants, a hard, aching weight pressing insistently, and he’s almost insulted by your obliviousness to it. you carefully avoid looking even when curiosity tugs at you, but he doesn’t share your restraint. his gaze roams over your skin with an eagerness that makes your pulse quicken. it’s the intensity of his stare that draws his attention to the wine spilling on your skirt.

he could be a decent guy and offer you a pair of his sweats to wear, but the thought of them clinging to your frame, sitting low on your hips, would probably have him cumming in his pants. 

so instead, your best friend, byun baekhyun—the man whose every nuance you know by heart—drops to his knees before you. his fingers brush the hem of your skirt, teasingly, as if he’s contemplating the boundaries between friendship and something far more tempting.

“uuummm…w-what are you doing?” you ask, caught somewhere between disbelief and the thrill simmering beneath your skin. baekhyun on his knees is almost cruel—the way his tongue flicks over his lips, eyes dark and hungry, as if he’s aching to taste you. you press your thighs together, the slick heat between them betraying you, and pray he doesn’t notice. “this isn’t funny, baek.”

“’m not laughin’,” he says, his tone flat, gaze dipping to the stain on your skirt. “look, your skirt’s ruined.”

“oh,” you mumble, only now noticing the dark wine blotch spreading through the fabric.

a wicked grin spreads across his lips, his teasing smile lighting up his eyes. “huh? what’s wrong??? you get all flustered when i’m on my knees like this, cupcake?”

“shut up,” you snap, trying to pull away, but his hands grip the backs of your thighs, anchoring you in place. his cool fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt, pressing against the curve of your ass, sending shivers through you. you can see the smug smirk on his face, and it only fuels your irritation. “god, you’re such an asshole.”

“i know,” he murmurs, his voice low and melting into the quiet. his hands drift higher, fingertips gliding over your skin until his thumbs trace slow, deliberate circles at the tender crease of your thighs. each touch leaves you breathless, your pulse racing beneath the heat of his hands. “’m sorry, cupcake,” he whispers, his words settling over you like a tease, soft and unrelenting.

“no, you’re not,” you reply, breathless and disoriented, completely trapped in his enchantment.

a mischievous gleam lights up his eyes as realization dawns—

you’re completely fucking nude underneath this skirt.

“you’re right, cupcake. i’m not sorry. but, i don’t think you are either.”

“what?” you chuckle, confusion flickering on your face. “what the hell do i have to be sorry for? you’re the one being a tease.”

in a single, fluid motion, he tugs your skirt down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. he grips the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, the fabric bunching tightly in his fist. his knuckles turn white from the intensity of his hold as he keeps you anchored in place, his gaze consuming every inch of you. his eyes blaze with unrestrained hunger while he struggles to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

“for showing up at my place without wearing any panties,” his voice a deep rumble that sends a delicious shiver down your spine. the sight of you, stripped of all defenses, vulnerability laid bare, makes his mouth water with want. “and then you act like you don’t want me to fuck you senseless... like we’re more than just friends. so tell me, cupcake, who’s really the tease here?”

growing up, you often wondered if it was cosmic alignment or if byun baekhyun was just simply one of god’s favorites, but one thing was undeniable: he always got what he wanted. whether it was being the mastermind behind your senior year’s water balloon ambush during lunch without so much as a reprimand, effortlessly scoring extensions on assignments because he’d partied a little too hard the night before, or slipping through the cracks at work despite his remarkable talent for slacking off—baekhyun embodied luck itself. he glided through life untouched, seemingly charmed, as if the universe conspired to bend to his every whim.

and this wasn't any different.

it hadn’t taken much for him to coax you into letting him taste you—just a few soft, insistent kisses pressed to your thighs, and those pleading, puppy-dog eyes never once leaving yours as he whispered gentle pleas between each kiss.

“i….i just don’t want to ruin anything,” you finally manage, finding the courage to voice your worry. “we’re best friends, baekhyun.”

he grins against your thigh, that mischievous, toothy smile sending a wave of heat straight through you. he can feel your hesitation, and he finds it endearing. “i know, i know... but weren’t we just talking about how awful dating is? why not turn to each other for... well, our more physical needs?”

you scoff, raising an eyebrow. "what? like being friends with benefits?"

he just smiles up at you, his lips brushing against your skin with a teasing touch. “exactly.”

your mind drifts back to that very conversation from a few days ago—before he lent you his jacket. that night when you could undeniably feel his boner pressing against you through the soft fabric of his sweats as he hugged you goodbye. but you were too sweet to call him out on it.

you’d been sprawled across his bed, face buried in his pillow, complaining about the dismal dating scene, and baekhyun had flopped down beside you, humming in agreement. you’d told him you just wanted someone to have fun with, no strings attached, just casual. you can still remember the glint in his eye, as if he’d just stumbled onto a revelation. but before either of you could dive deeper into the moment, your friends had rung the doorbell, leaving the conversation hanging in the air, unfinished.

“c’mon, cupcake,” he murmurs, pulling you back to reality as his grip tightens beneath the soft curve of your ass. “you know you can trust me, right? i trust you. and if you ever feel like you wanna step back, just say the word, and we’ll go back to the way things were—easy peasy. i promise, you and i are way too locked in for things to ever turn sour between us.”

you want to believe him, to convince yourself that crossing this line won’t lead to serious repercussions. but as his gaze drinks you in, his eyes fixed on your glistening folds while he inches dangerously closer, your thoughts begin to spiral.

you’re torn, caught in an internal war where the fear of losing what you have wrestles with the intoxicating thrill of what could be. you don’t want to think about the consequences; you don’t want to step back from this moment.

you don’t want to.

so you don’t.

and the moment your lips part to whisper a breathy, "okay, deal," he’s on you, his hunger for you overwhelming and relentless. his hands and mouth move with a frantic urgency that pulls a gasp from your lips, your body arching into him as if it’s been craving this all along. your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer, while your head falls back in pure ecstasy, each breath a desperate gasp.

all you can think is why the fuck neither of you had suggested this idea sooner.

after what feels like an eternity of his mouth worshipping every sensitive inch of you, your leg draped over his shoulder, allowing his tongue to fuck you deeper, you’ve lost track of all the orgasms he’s coaxed from you. finally, he lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against him as he strides toward his bedroom, laying you back against the cool sheets of his bed. his shirt rides up around your waist, exposing you just enough for him to savor the sight of his cock sinking into you again and again, moving with a rhythm so perfect it leaves you both trembling.

this was unlike anything either of you had ever known—something that almost felt otherworldly. the way your bodies fit together was as if crafted by design, every inch of you molding around him like a second skin. the warmth of your slick, welcoming heat wrapped around him so perfectly it took his breath away, leaving him trembling with every deep, steady thrust. and somehow, he struck that perfect spot inside you every single time, as though he’d always known exactly what made your eyes flutter shut and roll back.

“shiiittt, cupcake. can’t believe you’ve been h-holdin’ out on me. nngghhh—how come you never told me you felt this hah– fuckin’ good?” he groans, voice breathless as he sinks fully inside you.

you let out a needy whine, savoring the way he stretches you in ways that feel almost too good. “i w-was just about to ask you the same thing, hah—.”

the sinful symphony of your breathless whimpers entwined with his low, desperate groans and the slick, rhythmic sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, far surpassing any fantasy baekhyun has ever imagined of you. he never anticipated that you would feel this intoxicating, sound this alluring—nothing could be sweeter than the overwhelming pleasure flooding his senses in this moment. no masterpiece in the louvre could rival the sight before him: you, brows furrowed in pure bliss, eyes tightly shut, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to stifle your helpless moans that escape with each thrust of his hips.

you grasp the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling with the desperate urge to strip it away and feel the warmth of his skin pressed against yours. but he only smirks, dipping down to capture your lips in a kiss that steals your breath—and any thought of undressing. “wanna fuck you with this on, cupcake,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low, possessive growl. his mouth moves hungrily over yours, his fingers tangled firmly in your hair, leaving you entirely at his mercy.

with each relentless thrust, he whines as if he’s lost all control, his voice a breathy murmur of filthy words that spill from his lips. it’s as if he forgets he has you pinned beneath him, taking every last inch, intoxicated by the delicious feeling of your gummy walls wrapped so wet, so tight around him. he’s undeniably pussy drunk, his excitement spilling over as he slurs his words against your mouth.

“god, you look so fucking sexy in my clothes. ngh— from now on, i only w-wanna see you wrapped in my things. hah– oh f-fuck. i hate your fucking clothes.”

“b-but…hah—f-ffucckk” you gasp, the words stumbling out as his hips grind into you, rendering coherent thoughts nearly impossible. “that was my favorite outfit, baek.”

“yeah? hah— such a fuckin’ tease wearing that skirt.” he rasps in your ear, his breath warm and sending shivers racing down your neck. “if ya bent over even a lil’, i woulda' seen everything. but you knew that...didn’t ya, cupcake? you wanted this to happen, right? wanted me to fuck you like this?”

your mind is a haze, words slipping away like sand through your fingers. all you can manage is a breathy, “y-yes!” accompanied by a frantic nod as he pulls you closer to the edge. the only thing you can focus on is the way his throbbing length is striking your sweet spot with such perfect precision. his fingers, deft and teasing, dance over your clit, each flick and swirl sending you spiraling out of control.

baekhyun can feel the way you clench around him, your moans growing louder and more unrestrained, each breathless sound pulling him closer to his own climax. “that’s it. that’s my good girl. shiiitt— just let go f’me. oh god, you feel so hah—good, takin' me so well. you’re so f-fuckin’ perfect,” he urges, his gaze locked onto yours as he drives you further into bliss, fucking you through the waves of pleasure that threaten to consume you.

the orgasms crash over you in relentless waves, each one merging into the next, as he drags out your pleasure with every deep thrust of his hips paired with the teasing circles of his fingers on your clit. your breathless cries of his name spill from your lips, pushes him closer to his own release. and as he finally lets go, he’s dressing you once more, this time layering your stomach and thighs with the warm, slick ribbons of his cum.

you swear you hear him mumble something about burning every last piece of your wardrobe, replacing each item with his—clothes infused with his scent and marked by his touch. his. his. his.

but best friends don’t lay claim on each other like that…do they?

nope. 

and they definitely don’t fuck like this either.

a/n: omg when i was editing this i was like 'damn he's literally hard throughout this entire story' lmfaooooo. shoulda titled this fic 'boner baekhyun' tbh 😭 hope ya enjoyed the smut loviezzzzz 💞

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[justordinarygirl]

Skybound!Starcream x Yandere!reader

I love him so much. wanna just...ok, dont mind... !Skybound spoilers!

He was beautiful.

He marveled at his dazzling beauty when he first appeared. His eyes burned like wildfire, his every movement was so precise, so light, his flight through the sky seemed like a dance, if only he hadn't grinded human bodies in his huge metal palms with that very lightness. Not that this brutality spoiled him in any way. The splattering of people's blood seemed to freeze in the air as if in slow motion, and it seemed as if the petals of red roses were flying all around him. The monstrous screams of real terror of the crowd and deafening gun shots paled before his voice, his maniacal laughter. He appeared before mankind as a true angel of death.

He remained something unimaginable even after the betrayal of his brothers, a small, quick, and extremely violent rebellion. The other grouping had not had time to clean up the robot's unconscious body, and now he hung on chains, in a secret base underground, away from the prying eyes of others. Hanging without legs and one optic, with a haggard look, so defenseless he was still deadly at the same time.

It wasn't easy to bring the fighter to its senses, it couldn't be handled like a normal machine, but the effort was worth it. Of course, for the sake of general safety, his vision is limited and the chains are pulled tighter around, causing him to cling to even more attention. How cute he is, waking up in an unknown place, seeing nothing and unable to move. Adorable. Then shouts and a wave of questions, demands, assurances, threats. Everything but a hint of neutral, not even kind, words came out of his mouth. Like a sharpened blade, always ready to plunge into another's flesh. He'd promised to contact his own, but it was worth reminding him, oh, sweet warrior, who left you in this condition? Would they not come here just to finish their business? And the rage was replaced by a much quieter anger. Is it possible to wait long enough to speak of its beauty? Perhaps this task is easy for those ignorant enough to fail to recognize art. How dare they attack you after your labors and patience? How could they betray and mob you and tear you apart like a stranger? And even after that, you got up from your knees, said you dared not surrender, even offered compromises, but you did not run away, stood your ground and fell so honorably. You were perfect.

His wings twitch, trying to move, but patting the wall behind him with a clatter. Fantastic. A proud creature. Forgetting revenge and anger, he praises himself without the slightest bit of embarrassment and says his name in passing, along with words of power and conquest. Beautiful, sonorous, pleasing to the ear and tongue.

Starscream.

He doesn't think to stop, continues in his blinded and shackled state to utter insults in the direction of all those who dare to be against him, almost tearing his voice from his tirade about the unworthy and weak that have only miraculously lived millions of years on par with all the powerful individuals of their faction.

Millions of years, one wonders… and for such creatures to live so long, the luck for a human to live a hundred years is no more than a joke, a blink of an eye. And is it possible that at least the long decades of loyalty and patience for humans would one day be allowed to freely approach and leave a fleeting kiss on those lips that love to stretch in a cruel grin? It's a senseless and utterly stupid idea for sure, but for the sake of a ghostly chance one is willing to take a risk. To save him, to fix him, to help spread his wings again. And kiss.

Oh, Lord, if you hear my prayer, grant me the opportunity for just one fleeting kiss.