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dissapointu · 3 days ago

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For all the arcane characters.

Their s/o stood from them with a distant look well our body seems.. tense as well from they're perspective we almost like a statue. "S/o? what's wrong, love?" They asked almost like they were gonna reach out to 'comforted' us.

"I can't do this, this is too much" their s/o muttered while leaning or even stepping away from them, we seem.. almost scared or maybe petrified as we cover our eyes. Peeking though our fingers locking eyes with them with a look of fear or terror.

Basically write how their reaction to their s/o seems standoffish towards them or even afraid to look at them without a terror look in their eyes 🙏😔 (something they did made us afraid of them-)

OKAY ANGST QUEENS (AND KINGS), WE’RE GOING IN. how the Arcane squad reacts when their s/o looks at them like they’re the villain in the story (even though they probably kinda are, let’s be real).

Jinx

“Wait. WAIT. Don’t do that.” Her voice wavers, panic setting in like a storm cloud. Jinx is jittery now, her hands twitching by her sides because she doesn’t know what to do. “I didn’t mean to scare you, okay?! I’m not—I’m not gonna hurt you.”

She tries to laugh it off, but it’s hollow, her eyes darting everywhere except at yours. “You’re messing with me, right? This is a joke?” But when you don’t laugh, she freezes, like all the gears in her brain just stopped turning. “Please don’t look at me like that…” Her voice cracks, soft and broken. She’s shrinking into herself, more scared of you leaving than she’s ever been of anything.

Vi stops mid-step, hands raised slightly like she’s trying not to spook you further. “Hey, hey, it’s me,” she says, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard. Her brow furrows, and she looks so lost. “What’s going on? What did I do?”

When you step back, her heart breaks a little more, but she doesn’t move closer. “I don’t get it—why are you acting like I’m gonna hurt you?” Her voice catches, and for a second, she looks like she might cry, but she quickly shakes it off. “Just… talk to me, alright? Whatever I did, I’ll fix it. Just don’t…” She swallows hard. “Don’t be scared of me.”

Sevika

Sevika’s expression hardens the moment she sees you flinch. Not because she’s mad at you, but because she’s furious with herself. “…What the hell did I do this time?” she mutters, more to herself than you.

She takes a step forward but stops when you lean away. “Alright, I get it,” she says, her voice rough but quieter than usual. “But don’t think for a second I wanted this.” There’s a flicker of something vulnerable in her eyes as she runs a hand through her hair, looking away. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’d never—I mean, I can’t—” She exhales sharply, cutting herself off. “Just tell me how to fix it.”

Silco

Silco’s entire body goes still, his hand freezing mid-reach. “…Is that fear I see in your eyes?” he asks, his voice low and controlled, but there’s a sharp edge to it—like it hurts more than he’s willing to admit.

He straightens up, letting his hand fall to his side. “I see,” he murmurs, his tone almost cold, but his expression betrays him. There’s a flicker of something soft, almost regretful, in his gaze. “Whatever I’ve done to frighten you… I’ll correct it. But you must tell me what it is.” He steps back, giving you space, though it clearly pains him. “I won’t hurt you. Surely, you know that.”

Vander

Vander’s heart sinks the second he sees the look on your face. “Hey, now,” he says gently, his voice thick with worry. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

When you flinch away, he freezes, his hands hovering awkwardly. “…Did I do somethin’? Whatever it is, I didn’t mean to.” His voice cracks, and he looks so… sad. “You’re scared of me?” He takes a slow step back, running a hand down his face. “I never wanted this. Just tell me how to make it right.”

Ekko

Ekko’s face drops like a stone. “Wait, what? What did I do?” His voice is a mix of confusion and panic, and he steps back instinctively, his hands raised.

“C’mon, you know me. I wouldn’t—I couldn’t hurt you.” He’s practically begging now, his eyes wide and pleading. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Please. I’ll fix it, I swear. Just… don’t be scared of me like that.”

Jayce

Jayce’s entire face falls, his usual confidence crumbling in an instant. “What… What do you mean, you can’t do this?” he asks, his voice soft and shaky.

When you step away, his hands drop to his sides, and he looks like a lost puppy. “I don’t understand. What did I do?” He’s desperate for an answer, but he doesn’t want to push you further. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. Just don’t look at me like that, okay?”

Viktor

Viktor’s eyes widen, and he takes a cautious step back, his cane tapping softly on the floor. “Please… tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

When you cover your eyes, he feels like he’s been stabbed in the chest. “If I’ve done something to frighten you, I assure you it was unintentional.” His words are careful, measured, but there’s a faint tremor in his voice. “I would never hurt you. Please, believe me.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s breath catches in her throat, and she freezes mid-step. “…Darling?” she says softly, her tone full of worry. “What’s going on? What did I do?”

When you refuse to meet her eyes, she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?” Her voice wavers, and she steps back, giving you space. “Please, just tell me what I did wrong. I can’t fix this if I don’t know.”

Mel Medarda

Mel’s calm facade cracks immediately, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. “I see,” she says softly, stepping back to give you space. “You’re afraid of me.”

Her voice is steady, but there’s a hint of pain beneath her composed exterior. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I only want to protect you. But if I’ve overstepped…” She trails off, folding her hands tightly to keep herself from reaching for you. “I’ll make it right. Somehow.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa’s jaw tightens, and she lets out a sharp exhale. “So that’s how you see me now,” she says, her voice low and gruff.

But when she sees the terror in your eyes, her expression softens, and she takes a deliberate step back. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says, almost grumbling like it’s hard for her to admit. “But if I did, then I’ve failed you. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Cecil B. Heimerdinger

“Oh, my stars!” Heimerdinger exclaims, his ears drooping as he takes a step back. “Have I done something to upset you? Please, do tell me!”

He looks absolutely heartbroken, wringing his tiny hands together as he tries to figure out how to make things right. “I would never wish to cause you distress. Please, let me help!”

Salo

Salo frowns deeply, his usually cocky demeanor dropping instantly. “You’re scared of me?” he asks, his voice quiet and unsure.

He steps back, his hands clenched at his sides. “I didn’t mean to—whatever I did, I didn’t mean it. Just tell me how to fix it, okay?”

Scar

Scar looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what to say. “Wait, hold up. What did I do?”

He looks genuinely hurt but tries to play it cool. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You know that, right?” his voice is quieter now, almost pleading.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie freezes, her smile dropping in an instant. “What? Babe, no—what’s wrong?”

She takes a cautious step back, her eyes full of worry. “Whatever it is, I didn’t mean it. Please, just talk to me.”

Lest

Lest’s expression doesn’t change much, but her eyes darken with concern. “I see I’ve frightened you,” she says softly, her voice measured.

She steps back, giving you space. “That was never my intention. Please, tell me what I’ve done.”

TL;DR: Everyone’s reactions are basically “PANIC MODE ACTIVATED,” but in their own unique ways.

#x reader #arcane x reader #character x reader #imagine #arcane imagine #headcannons #arcane #arcane headcanon #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #arcane vi #silco x reader #arcane sevika #arcane silco #arcane caitlyn

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wallabywhump · 3 days ago

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Post Episode 8x08 CODA/Continuation

Content: Light angst, Buck spiralling, Buck's abandonment issues/running thoughts/(has ADHD), BuckTommy hints at the end.

Word Count: 1,965

Started writing this when the episode ended, please enjoy!

---

The sign goes out front of Eddie's house two weeks later, Buck helps to dig the hole. Buck helps talk to the realtor. Buck talks Eddie down from a three-bed home with an attic office in a HOA suburb and helps him find a respectably sized two bed that will leave him with money to renovate the bathroom and add a ramp up to the door.

Buck bakes a million cookies and eats them while Eddie has meetings with realtors. He sets out sweet breads and muffins when Eddie has an open house, and he happily serves them to people, "yes, there is a gluten free option! I was playing around with xanthan gum, so it shouldn't- oh, you're too kind."

All through it all, Buck focuses on Eddie, and he tries to ignore the ball of panic that's growing and growing and growing, as Eddie calls his mom and dad, and talks to Chris, and they're discussing going to view the home together and-

"I'll be there in two days, buddy!" Eddie says to Chris, a smile wide on his face while he put the autographed picture of the Hotshots cast into a wallet to keep it safe. "I can't wait to see you; we can talk without it lagging."

Buck takes a deep breath.

"Buck's not coming, LA won't survive if we both are off work."

Buck takes the butter off the heat, starts mixing in the sugar.

"I was talking it over with Grandpa, and we can go to the aquarium while I'm there. I'll even get to cheer you on in your chess match."

Chris groans. "You don't cheer during chess matches, dad, you have to be quiet."

Eddie laughs, and Buck needs to savor that sound. Needs to bottle up the sound of his best friend, and the kid he loves to the moon and back, teasing each other because he doesn't know how long he'll have this for. "Well, okay, you'll just have to teach me what to do, Mijo. I've never been to a chess match before."

The flour comes out of the microwave and Buck mixes that in, the soothing fold-fold-fold making his raging heart beat easier to ignore.

"You've never played chess before," Chris teases.

Buck spares a glance at Eddie, and he's fondly smiling at the tablet, and he says, "Well, you'll have to teach that too. Need to understand how you're winning, kid."

Buck is trying his best to be happy for Eddie, desperately putting his issues to the side, he hasn't even mentioned Tommy with all the baking he's been doing.

Eddie, graciously, hasn't mentioned how Buck has gone back to how he was the exact week after Tommy dumped him.

Or perhaps Eddie hasn't noticed with all the preparation and the legal jargon and clearing out everything to make the house look pretty for viewings, and Buck-

Buck really wants to talk to someone.

Eddie's leaving, Bobby is busy building a house, Hen, Maddie, Chimney-

Everyone's moving forward towards something happier. And Buck's stuck trying not to tie his best friend to a city with his sad puppy dog eyes and a pout, all while missing his ex so much that focusing on Eddie leaving drowns out that pain and fills it with something different.

"Buck?"

Buck jumps, dropping his spatula into the bowl. "Huh? W-What's-"

"Chris hung up, he's got school tomorrow."

Buck picks his spatula up, continues mixing his cookie dough. It's as he folds a third time that he notices he forgot the chocolate chips.

"More cookies?"

Buck forces a smile on his face, ignores the floundering puttering in his heart that tells him he needs to call someone before this becomes unsustainable. Baking isn't distracting him, it's not-

He wants Eddie to stay, he wants Chris to come home, he wants a barbecue in Bobby's backyard with his family-

He wants to call Tommy.

"It's for the viewing tomorrow," Buck says, proud of how even his voice sounds, how it doesn't even sound like a lie.

Eddie sidles up to the counter, looking into the bowl. "You don't have to try buttering up potential buyers with sugary goods. I know you set a precedent for the first one, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

Buck puts the bowl and spatula down and bumps his hip into Eddie's as he starts greasing up the pan. "If I sweeten them up, maybe they'll actually buy, and you can leave quicker."

The free-sounding tease is easy, it's easy to fake, it's been easy to fake since that day he picked up the tablet and saw the houses. It's been easy to fake since Tommy dumped him, and he had to crawl out of his home and go to work and look somewhat put together, so no-one was scared on their calls. It's been easy to fake since Abby left him at the airport, and with a home that wasn't quite his, and an uneasy feeling in his heart that she wasn't coming back. It's been easy to fake since he was sixteen years old, and Maddie was leaving and-

Maddie, Abby, Tommy, Eddie.

People leave, and that's okay, and it's selfish to force them to stay. No matter how much he wished they would choose to stay.

Buck scoops out a glob of dough and drops it onto his pan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, bud, I'm gonna have a beer while you finish with...that."

Buck sets up the mixer to bake a cake after he puts the cookies in the oven.

---

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and spirals.

The goodbye wave feels robotic, despite knowing that Eddie will be back in a week, even if it's just to start packing up his life to move it hours away. His phone sits in the dock on the dash, and Buck-

Buck doesn't have anything to distract himself from the yawning emptiness inside him.

Nothing to put his mind to, nothing to focus on, just a whole lot of nothing.

The nothing that has been eating away at every positive thought and coping skill he'd put into trying to ignore how much he missed Tommy. The way Tommy would rub his arm and pull him in for a hug when he was feeling low. How Tommy would sarcastically tease him when his anxiety spiked, until Buck couldn't even remember he'd been anxious. How they could sit in silence and not have to chat, and it was just peaceful, and it put Buck at ease, and Tommy wouldn't even mention when Buck's leg started tapping, he'd just put a hand on Buck's knee and lean his weight into-

Fuck.

Tommy would have been a rock through this, platitudes about Eddie not being dead, stop panicking. "I can fly a helicopter, babe, just say the word and you can visit."

Except, Tommy isn't his rock anymore. He's a hurricane that has Buck unmoored and swirling in an abyss of panic and loneliness and, fuck, shit, fuck, Buck has to talk to someone. Or bake something. Or go to the middle of nowhere, with no reception, and scream at the sky.

Everyone's busy. Eddie's on a plane. No-one...he has-

"Buck?"

Buck jolts, staring down at the phone now in his hand, Tommy's face filling the screen, his nose scrunched and looking confused, concerned and cold all in one expression.

So closed off.

"I-I didn't mean to call," Buck whispers, his voice weak and thready even to his own ears. "Hi. Uh, I'll just, uh, hang up."

Except Buck doesn't, he stares at Tommy and feels his heart stutter.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, and Buck watches the cold melt off Tommy's face, leaving only confusion and concern.

"What's happening, Buck?"

"I...just dropped Eddie off at the airport, and I'm sitting at the drop off spot in the taxi ranks, and-"

Tommy's confusion disappears, and his eyes soften, and he's openly concerned and it's like a knife in Buck's chest.

Buck lets out a hoarse laugh. "I've held it in for weeks, not calling, and my best friend leaves and it's like I can't help it- Jesus." Buck runs a hand down his face, he feels like a mess.

"Why did you call me, Buck?"

Because it was habit for six months straight, because every time Buck's been sad since the breakup he's had to physically remove himself from his phone to stop himself from calling Tommy, because Buck just wants to have Tommy as his, and he can't seem to move on despite everyone else seeming able to.

"Everyone else...is moving forward, making families and living their lives, but I'm-"

Buck should hang up, forget about this, say 'sorry, bye asshole', and block Tommy's number once and for all.

Except-

"I'm stuck, stuck on that day in my loft, wondering what happened and how that occurred, and all I've wanted since the day it happened was to call you and fix it or-or, I don't know...I just feel so incomplete here. Unsatisfied. Nothing-nothing makes sense."

Buck rolls on.

"And Eddie told me not to call, so I didn't, except then Eddie decided he wanted to move to Texas and I couldn't be selfish and ask him to stay, so instead I've been helping him, helping him leave my life, because then at least I helped control it."

Buck chokes up.

"Because he's an adult with different priorities, and he can make his own decisions and it's my job as a friend to support him, and I guess you'd know that too if you still talked to him, or hey, maybe he would have stayed for you." He's fucking it up, finally got Tommy on the phone and rather than giving Tommy all the reasons they could work, and he should stay, he's dumping all his fears about Eddie leaving. "And I- I'm not making sense, I'm all over the place, this is not what I wanted to say at all, I had a whole speech about how I love you, and I deserved better, and-"

"Are you safe to drive?" Tommy asks, his voice cutting through Buck's monologue.

Buck bites his lip and nods his head. Of course, Tommy doesn't want to hear about his problems, they're broken up.

"Yeah, yeah, I..." Buck sniffs, wipes at his face despite it being dry, and forces a smile on his face. "I'm just a little sad, sorry for calling."

Tommy shakes his head, and he looks like he's in physical pain, and God, Buck feels like an asshole. He's so selfish, and he should have just thrown his phone out and got a new number after the breakup if he knew he was just going to trample over boundaries.

"No, don't be s- I mean, okay, okay. This sounds like- Eddie left? No, this is a conversation for in person," Tommy sounds just as confused and lost as Buck, which isn't nice, because Buck expects Tommy to be a rock, to be steady, to be- well, that went out the window the night they broke up.

"In person?" Buck wonders aloud.

Tommy hums, and his nose scrunches up, and he puts a finger to the bridge of his nose. The video feed is shaking like the phone in his hand is shaking. Buck swallows and waits for whatever emotional turmoil Tommy is experiencing to pass.

"Drive yourself to mine," Tommy orders.

Buck stares at the screen in shock. "W-What? Tommy, I- no, I-" A taxi starts honking their horn behind him.

"Mine," Tommy repeats, sure, and despite everything it makes that emptiness in Buck feel a little smaller, like Tommy is filling it with just the promise of a conversation. "Sounds like you need to get going. See you soon, Evan."

Tommy hangs up, and Buck spirals, but he starts the car anyway and drives to Tommy's with a spark of something in his chest.

#911 season 8 #911 fanfic #911 spoilers #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #bucktommy fanfic #8.08 coda #911 8.08 #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #wallabywrites #my writing #i just keep thinking about Eddie leaving being a catalyst for Buck finally calling Tommy because he hates not having closure #he's done that once before and he refuses to repeat it #and with no best friend to steal Buck's phone or anything to put his energy into...habit kicks in #Tommy picks up because that is *his* habit - to always go when Buck calls #(i haven't localized this so if words like “taxi rank” are incorrect i apologize)#I don't even fully know what this is lol

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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mae, congratulations on 8k and happy holidays ahhh!!! if you have the time, i could totally see something fun with tasm! peter and the prompt office christmas party. like coworkers to friends to pining and confessions? basically it’s giving jim and pam teapot, BUT i would love to see where your brain takes it

Thank you for requesting! Happy holidays :)

cw: jokes are made about Peter's appearance, but they're very, very sarcastic

coworker!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 639 words

You never usually wear red. It’s not like it’s one of Peter’s favorite colors anyway—he only really wears it for one thing, even if that’s pretty much every day—but he feels suddenly robbed having never seen it on you before. As if you’re not eye-catching enough already, your holiday sweater makes you the brightest thing in the room.

Peter goes to it like a moth to a flame. Though, in fairness, that’s your usual effect on him, sweater or no.

“Oh, wow, you lucked out,” he says, raising his eyebrows at your white elephant gift.

You look up from your desk, grinning when you see Peter. “I know, right?” You hold your prize up enthusiastically, like they’re the keys to your new car and not slippers designed to look like giant man feet with a bow slapped on top of them. “Can you believe I started with a bluetooth shower speaker and worked my way up to these? I mean, Christmas is over at this point. Everyone else can go home.”

“Those will probably be the best give you’ll ever get,” Peter agrees. He leans against your desk, careful not to disturb the pens lined up neatly by your laptop. “You really managed to land on a personalized one, too. Did you already know they made slippers that match your feet, or did you just find out today?”

Your shoulders hitch with a laugh, pretty eyes sparkling. Peter feels a warm tug in his gut. Any day he can make you smile is a good one.

“What did you get?” you ask him.

“Oh, mine came from the boss man himself.” Peter reaches into his small gift bag, pulling out his prize. “Check this baby out.”

Your smile stays in place, but you look genuinely perplexed. “A toothbrush?”

“Not just any toothbrush.” He presses a button on the side, watching your face as a song begins to play from a small speaker. Baby, baby, baby, ohhhh…

Your mouth actually drops open before you cover it with a hand, giggles muffled into your palm. “Okay, wait, wait. I actually want that one now.”

Peter hisses through his teeth, shrugging remorsefully. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can part with it. It’s too important to me. Anyway, you’ve got your slippers, and they suit you so well…”

“Right, but” —You school your expression into solemnity. Peter has to work hard to suppress his own grin, thinking to himself that you look like a contestant on that Shark Tank show— “have you considered the potential of these slippers in your love life? I mean, I’ve already basically got it covered with my feet, but Peter…” You hold the slippers up, letting them dangle from a single finger. “These could be a real babe magnet.”

Peter lets out a long exhale, pretending to consider it. “That’s true. I could use a little help on the dating front…”

“You could,” you say sympathetically.

“I mean, my looks on their own are hardly doing the job.”

“It’s not your fault we weren’t all born naturally attractive.”

“I am pretty plain…”

“Homely, even. But that’s alright.” You hold the slippers out again. “That’s where these come in.”

“Okay.” Peter feigns reluctance, handing over the toothbrush. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Yes!” Every hair on his leg stands at attention when you put your hand on his knee, squeezing. You’re smiling beatifically. “Thank you, Peter. This means the world.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing me a favor too.” He sets his hand on top of yours, squeezing also. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Your eyes drop to your hand as if realizing where it is for the first time, and Peter pretends not to notice when your eyes flicker up to his, the teasing in them giving way momentarily to bashfulness. He got the best gift today, for sure.

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coldkingwasteland456777 · 16 hours ago

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Ok wait i just read the tags and this got even better, I love the Heavenly Demon version of the abyss, (love thinking about how long it would take for Binghe to clean Shen quingqiu's blood off his sword, like every time he looks at it he almost throws up but if he goes to clean it he just hears SQ manically apologising for staining his sword with his unclean blood and just *can't*)

Ok because in the heavenly demon version I assume Binghe is still the protagonist and SQ is the big bad that reappears and has to be defeated in a glorious battle and obviously SQ had internalised a view of LB as his executioner that is disgusted by him and so after going through the torture of the abyss and then finding Xin mo which obviously does not help his sanity he unexpectedly runs into Binghe in Jinlan city (I'm thinking he's going through the path of joining Hua Hua palace sect because as a heavenly demon essentially demons flock around him in the demon realm so he's trying to avoid his canon fate as a Demon Emperor that has to be put down by becoming a righteous cultivator that blends into Hua Hua palace and never has to come into contact with LB BECAUSE the system disconnected as he fell into the abyss because like in canon Luo Binghe is the power source so SQ could do whatever in the abyss and when he got out he only took Xin Mo because he had no other way out and now he's got the sword he's under it's influence and it's not letting go. also because SQ is so lovely that everyone that knows him is outraged at Binghe for casting him off as his disciple or if he's going with the lie that he was kidnapped at the conference by demons and only just managed to fight he way out now then they can be outraged binghe didn't look hard enough for him, which is hilarious because in reality every moment binghe could spare he was using to find way to break into the abyss despite knowing he as a human could not survive) so basically when they have they're unexpected reunion SQ is both terrified and furious, even though he does'nt want to draw the protagonists ire and get executed early (and he doesn't want to hurt Binghe), binghe represents his death and his presence has re awoken the system which is the reason he just had to through years of torture.

So, SQ is so calm, incredibly calm, and his behaviour is appropriate for reuniting with a Peak Lord because of course they have no other connection. He is not holding by any feral rage by the skin of his teeth and he's definitely just not looking LB in the eye because he doesn't want to get even more of his attention.

From LB perspective, he is having an out of body experience he is so overwhelmed, all higher functions have shut down, he's just kinda, staring at SQ (genuinely questioning if he's hallucinating) but then one of the Hua Hua ask SQ a question like "Shen-shidi" and he's like ok, ok, this is real, and his chokes out "Shen Quingqiu?" and SQ, doesn't even *look* at him, and the wave of euphoria kinda breaks when he rapidly is crushed by the truth that of course SQ hates him of course! He must despise him because everything was his fault and-

so much mental spiralling happens, and he ends up fainting and when he wakes up Mu Qingfang asks him what happened, has he been infected and so and so but he can barely get a word out before LB demands to know where SQ is and then MQ gets that familiar sad sympathetic look in his eyes that LB despises because SQ is *not dead* but then he starts freaking because of course SQ is not dead but *of course* but what if he's not here? What if it wasn't real? (he's experienced this sort of situation many times, so he sprints out of the infirmary before anyone can stop him and sprints to where the Hua Hua disciples are staying and bursts in demanding to speak to SQ and of course the HH disciples are angry and deny him entry and so he goes to push through them because they don't matter and see SQ slip out the window

SQ is is like i'm fucked, my death is now, clearly the protagonist is hunting me down because despite everything I've done, despite the fact I haven't even hurt anyone and I didn't choose this I deserve to die-- and basically goes down that spiral as he runs through the city, he's either so discombobulated he forgets to teleport or he's used too much qi to be able to teleport right now so he's stuck and also the sword is particularly bloodthirsty because its hungry which isn't healing SQ handle on his growing fury at his inevitable death

So when LB catches up and corners him in an alley because of course, SQ thinks, the protagonist would find him because he never had any chance since he was thrown into this dumpster fire of a world!

So LB grasp at his shoulder desperately trying to tell if this is real and SQ, just, snaps, completely

He slams LB into the wall, cracking his head against it and screams at him and at the same time loses control of his human disguise and LB pretty dazed, from the possible concussion, the fact he can feel SQ he alive, he's real- and the slightly nonsensical screaming

I don't quite know where it would go from their but it would be fun if SQ mauled LB a bit, maybe ended up feeding him his blood (LB didn't understand what was happening but he just drunk the blood without protest because he's insane) and then HH and cultivators from other sects come across them due to system meddling and because SQ is so out of it, he's easily knocked out but the one thing he does before the fight is knock LB out with his blood parasites because he still perceives him as the biggest threat

so LB wakes up AGAIN, but this time he's told that Hua Hua palace has 'kindly taken responsibility for missing a demon in their midst and taken SQ to the water prison for execution' and of course all of Cang Qiong are protesting but LB hears this and IMMEDIATELY goes to break out SQ out of prison

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

#svsss

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kazutora-kurokawa · 2 days ago

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Can I ask a wuestion?

What iif tenjikud girlfriend beaten up by their enemies after their rough fight. I wanna know see their reactions. Especcialy İzana and ran

Tenjiku When Their Girlfriend Gets Hurt By A Rival Gang

♡ SFW, angst, fluff, fem reader, violence against reader and random gang, murder but not anything detailed, Tenjiku members getting their getback ♡

note: yes anon, you may ask a "wuestion" lol

note 2: I've been ultra busy lately, essays, research papers, group projects, applying to jobs and all that jazz lol, things have been good tho

note 3: I put Ran and Rin together, scenario works for both regardless of which brother you're with

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 Whoever hurt you must've had a death wish, you think Hanma is the grim reaper? Nothing compares to Izana running full speed at somebody

🎴 He tracks each of them down and essentially tortures them (as he should)

🎴 He refuses to kill anyone, he just beats them so bad that they wish they were dead

Kakucho

🩷 Kakucho is usually a very calm man, but as soon as he saw you, limping and covered in bruises, it was over for the bastards that messed with you

🩷 Launches a full fledged attack against the other gang and beats the shit out of their leader, then proceeds to use the leader's body as a weapon to beat the shit out of the other members

🩷 Once he's done he rushes home to take care of you, you're his top priority afterall

Ran & Rindou

💜 Whether you're with Ran or Rin, everybody knows that you have both rulers of Roppongi backing you up

🩵 So when you get jumped by a gang that has beef with Tenjiku, everyone in that gang's general vicinity knows it about to be a bloodbath and vacates accordingly

💜 They pull up on them, straightfaced and ready to pop off on whoever hurt you

🩵 Rin's putting them in leg locks and Ran's breaking faces with his baton, they're a duo at heart and tag teaming is their specialty, especially when they're standing up for you

Mochi

🍡 Shion is really gonna be calling him a gorilla the way he went apeshit (I'm sorry that was corny af lmao)

🍡 He's baffled by the audacity those motherfuckers had to put their hands on you knowing you were his

🍡 Puts every last one of them in the hospital, then beats the shit out of the person he had assigned to watch over you because what the fuck were they doing and why did they leave you alone 🤨

Mucho

💙 As soon as you call him and tell him what happened he has Sanzu pick you up and goes to take care of the 'problem'

💙 Comes home with blood on his clothes and acts like nothing happened

💙 He doesn't talk about what happened while he was gone, and you don't bring it up either. You have a shared silence about these types of things

Shion

🩸 Turns into a certified attack dog, but on the outside he tries to stay cool, calm, and collected so he can focus on you

🩸 Gives you all his attention and affection, vengeance can wait because his girl is hurting (future husband lowkey)

🩸 Once he thinks you're okay enough for him to leave you alone, he's speeding to the rival gang's hideout and bodying everybody, zero fucks given

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tenjiku x reader #tenjiku fluff #tokyo revengers angst #tenjiku angst

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foodtruckery · 1 day ago

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I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.

They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.

It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.

Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).

I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?

HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.

cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)

i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!

--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now.

Not jarring enough to stop him, though.

He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo.

Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.

Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter.

Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks.

He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven.

But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.

Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this.

Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock.

"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?"

Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach.

He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine.

Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink patch against his skin.

Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother.

"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him.

"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with.

Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."

He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.

And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat.

"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again.

"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again.

Ford rips the packet open with his teeth.

"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning.

Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him.

"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?"

Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words."

"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining.

"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change."

When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side.

Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does.

It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it.

He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well.

It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch.

He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost.

"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it.

"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up.

He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?"

Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!"

"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!"

Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?"

Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head.

"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!"

"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore."

Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass.

Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead.

There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards.

If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks.

"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events.

"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."

Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling.

"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.

"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head.

He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest.

Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.

"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?"

The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability.

"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"

Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"

Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again.

"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"

"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.

He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special.

To be wanted.

To be enough.

To fix things.

"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes.

When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is.

More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind.

It isn't.

Ford is more certain of the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time.

And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for.

It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him.

Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name.

And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation.

Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair.

"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them.

Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue.

He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."

Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself. His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not?

Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt.

Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"

Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet.

They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips.

The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's.

Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders.

"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free.

Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process.

It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him.

"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."

He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound.

When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap.

"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out.

"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh.

He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement.

His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap.

It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face.

Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.

"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub, rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap.

Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier.

He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again.

He's missed this, Ford realizes.

Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true.

But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again?

Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name.

He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him.

Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on.

"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!"

The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption.

He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again.

Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut.

"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after.

The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat.

".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.

When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused.

The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time.

Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.

#¯\_ (ツ)_/¯#stancest #nsft #i have been DYING to write this for 2 weeks #and i just haven't had the time to actually sit with it #so i hope it balances out the wait anon!#foodtruck’s snack packs #pretend my ask tag is cute

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scribefindegil · 2 days ago

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Lorraine Baines McFly and Female Autonomy

Hello. I have spent the past month slowly losing my mind about Lorraine Baines McFly, Marty's mom in Back to the Future, so I am finally trying to articulate some of the reasons I'm so feral about her.

There's a quote from Lea Thompson, the actress who played Lorraine, that goes, "The three parts that women usually get to play are virgins, whores, and mothers, and in Back to the Future Part II, I got to play all three." While this is commentary on Hollywood and the limited roles that fictional women get forced into, I think it's also interesting to think about it in terms of how these roles are reflected onto actual women and used to limit their personhood and confine them to a very narrow range of acceptable behaviors . . . and then in turn to think about how the character interacts with these roles on a Watsonian level. They're affecting not just Lorraine the character as she was written, but Lorraine from an in-universe perspective trying to navigate life as a woman in a patriarchal world. Some of the sexism she faces is a deliberate narrative choice and some of it is a result of the writers' blind spots, but for the purpose of this essay I'm less interested in teasing out which threads are which and more in looking at it holistically.

Because the thing about Lorraine is that she's aware of what the acceptable roles and behaviors for women are, and the versions that we see of her across the various timelines alternately fight against and capitulate to these constraints. What is a woman allowed to be? How much is Lorraine willing to break from those restrictions? How much does she allow other women to break from them? Does she resent her role or embrace it? I have a lot of thoughts specifically about how the different iterations of her interact with concepts of female agency and autonomy.

(Putting this under a cut because it is. Long.)

I started thinking about this when I was talking with my partner about 50's Lorraine. She's extremely active and driven and planning to Get What She Wants (in a way that is very scary, if you are Marty) . . . but at the same time she's clearly aware that she isn't supposed to be. A Good Fifties Girl is demure and passive. Lorraine isn't--but she's still trying to toe the line. I think constantly about the scene where she shows up at Doc's garage to be like "I followed you home . . . so that I can ask you to ask me to the dance." The girl can embrace borderline stalking but she draws the line at directly asking a boy out! She's exercising a lot of agency but views doing so as rebellious and subversive--and risky.

And I also want to talk about the whole "boy crazy" thing because like . . . society (especially in the fifties) tells women that the most important thing they can possibly do is find a good man and become wives and mothers, that this will define the success or failure of their entire lives (and given how many things were unavailable to single women at the time this is in many ways true) . . . and then relentlessly mocks and punishes anyone who actually takes an interest in pursuing this instead of just sitting back passively and waiting. She is trying to do what society says will make her happy! And even her desire for a white knight is very much based in the reality of her situation! She's getting sexually harassed at school and around town and she's doing exactly what she's supposed to and standing up for herself and saying no and fighting back--and this is not enough. She does need backup! Biff harasses her in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and Marty is the ONLY person who does anything! No fucking wonder she latches onto him as hard as she does! (There's. I promise this is related but there's a BttF parody musical on YouTube where when Strickland comes to break up the lunchroom fight he says, "Now, I can excuse sexual harassment, but LIGHT SHOVING?" and like it's a haha funny joke but also?? Yeah?? That IS how it works. The way Lorraine's being treated is so overlooked and normalized that the authority figure isn't going to step up the way he will when it's a physical altercation between two guys. Screams.) I wonder if part of the reason she stuck with George in the original timeline even though they didn't have a lot in common is that "I have a boyfriend" is a boundary that some people might actually take seriously whereas "I'm not interested" is not.

But. In general 50's Lorraine is very much about grabbing as much agency as she feels she's allowed to . . . and then Twin Pines Lorraine is what happens when she regrets the result of those choices (because while we don't see it, it's pretty obvious that in the original timeline she pursued George as aggressively as she pursues Marty in the new one), and so she decides to deny, not just her own agency, but female agency as a general concept. She leans so heavily on the idea that her relationship was "meant to be" because it absolves her of any culpability in creating a life she's unhappy with. She's rewritten her own past to view herself as a passive participant in something inevitable. (Exactly the view of womanhood that she was fighting so hard against in the 50's!) And she extends this idea of female passivity to the women around her: telling Linda that she should sit back and wait and a relationship will "just happen," actively resenting Jennifer for doing something as simple as calling Marty on the phone. It's a really interesting form of internalized misogyny, perpetuating these sexist ideas as almost a misguided form of self-defense.

And then for Lone Pine Lorraine this is completely flipped! She loves Jennifer for the same reason she disliked her in Twin Pines: because she reminds Lorraine of her younger self. And like . . . this is something of an extrapolation, but while obviously her husband and kids are still very important to her, it also feels like she has interests and friends and other things going on in her life, whereas part of the isolation of Twin Pines is that her life has shrunk down to the point where she's ONLY a wife and mother with nothing else to define herself by. And it also matters that in this timeline she has a partner that supports her, not just in the big dramatic moments (although also that), but you can easily see the dance as a catalyst for George actually learning to listen to her and stand up for her about smaller things as well. George McFly feminism arc. (I'm being slightly facetious but like. George starts off kind of shitty. The spying is actively Bad and I hope Marty chewed him out for it offscreen, but also his reaction to the harassment scene being "I think there's someone else she'd rather go with," implying that he sees what Biff is doing as like. Normal flirting that he expects to work. He doesn't GET it. Unsurprising because he is. A teenage boy in the fifties. But I do believe that saving Lorraine was something of a wakeup call and after that he listened to her about things that make her uncomfortable and gave her the support that she needed. Which would also give her a lot more freedom in this timeline because she has someone with more societal power who has her back!)

And then. Hell Valley.

If Lone Pine is the version of Lorraine who has the most freedom, the most opportunities to make decisions based on what she wants instead of What Is Expected Of A Woman, Hell Valley is the opposite. The things denying her agency in Twin Pines is largely societal forces (and herself); in Hell Valley she is actively being denied autonomy by her evil husband who functions as the personification of a bunch of sexist ideas.

She's been objectified to the point that she doesn't maintain control over her own body; Biff pressures her to get cosmetic surgeries so she can continue to look attractive to him because that's the only value he sees in her. Her physical appearance is entirely tailored to his preferences.

Biff's view of Lorraine is wife-as-possession. He treats her like a prize he's won and her kids like parasites. And he is NOT subtle about this. But Lorraine is still desperately clinging to the idea that she's wife-as-family. She calls Biff "your father" to Marty when he arrives, and talks about "our children" because she wants so so badly for this to be something different than what it is. It's especially terrible because this is a timeline where she got seventeen years of being happy with George, she knows what she's missing, and she keeps trying to force this new relationship into a similar mold even though Biff is openly contemptuous of her and especially her kids. It's been twelve years and she's still trying to pretend. To call back to that Lea Thompson quote: it's obvious where Biff thinks Lorraine fits on the virgin-mother-whore axis, while Lorraine is actively trying to centralize her motherhood partially because the kids really are that important to her and partially as a defense mechanism.

(And it's also such a bleak cautionary tale about how fragile women's stability can be when they're dependent on their husbands; Lorraine was happy with George and had a fair amount of freedom, but he was the only one with an income so when he died she was suddenly forced into a truly horrific situation because she had no other means to support herself and her three young children. Especially given that the Hell Valley universe is also worse in some broader political ways that mean there were probably even fewer social supports available than in real life 1973)

And god. It kills me the way that we see her lash out, the way she's clawing for autonomy when she threatens to leave . . . and then exactly how Biff levels all his axes of control against her. It's very interesting that his first tactic is consumerist (Who will pay for all your things? Who will take care of you?) and that doesn't work even though not being able to support herself is a very real concern. It's only when he threatens her kids that she folds. And then she immediately crumples and pivots to rationalizing Biff's behavior and blaming herself for her own abuse (in a way that is both HEARTBREAKING and also? surprisingly sympathetic and realistic for an 80's movie?). It's similar to the passivity we see in Twin Pines, but here we see exactly where it comes from. She doesn't have any way out so she has to pretend. It's the only way she can keep going. She has these flashes of rage but they're immediately snuffed out by despair and denial.

There's not a lot of talk about Lorraine and what there is tends to reduce her to "well she's Marty's mom" as if she's a boring character who doesn't have a lot going on. But even though most of her role in the movies has to do with her relationships with the various men in her life, those relationships are really interesting if you actually pay attention to them! She's not just (in the 80's) a wife and mother--she's someone who has a complex relationship with marriage and motherhood and the societal expectations surrounding them. She's not just (in the 50's) a vapid boy-crazy girl--she's doing her best to go after what she wants in a world that doesn't want her to (the fact that one of the things she wants turns out to be her time-traveling son from the future is unfortunate but not something she has any way of knowing!). She's stuck in a society that doesn't want women to be people, and she knows this, and because we see her across two different time periods and three different timelines you can watch how sometimes society grinds her down until she gives in and tries not to be a person. And also how, sometimes, she fights back.

#back to the future #bttf #lorraine baines mcfly #this is what i mean when i say that lorraine has SO many interesting things going on and i do not think that most of them were on purpose #but i'm here and i have a shovel.#anyway. i would kill for her.

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mangostarjam · 3 days ago

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birthday boy — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established relationship aka they're happily married, smut mentioned but not described, reader is called "wife" and "darling" and "sweetheart", fluff, birthday fic, 1.7k words

"Quit smiling so much, bowl cut," Narumi Gen snaps. "You're giving me the creeps. Who called you out here, anyway? This is First Division territory!"

Hoshina Soshiro sheathes his blades as officers begin to scatter from the area. His smirk grows. "We're right on the border, so my wife called me."

And there it is — a telltale pink rising on the Captain's cheeks, hands spasming on his bayonet as he tries to come up with something that doesn't betray his jealousy. Not that Soshiro cares — not today, anyway, not when his wife woke him up with a soft, sweet kiss before making him cum so hard he went a little boneless.

Still, it never hurts to rub it in.

"She knows I'm the best at neutralizin' these small fry kaiju," Soshiro says lightly, "and y'know my wife — she deserves the best."

Gen's jaw ticks. "Oh yeah? Well, your wife still thinks I'm the best Numbers Weapons user!"

Both men subconsciously straighten when their earpieces click and you sigh loudly over comms. "Seriously?" you ask, but Soshiro can hear the smile in your voice. "Shouldn't you guys be working?"

"Aw, sweetheart, we're done here," Soshiro says, glancing around quickly. The scene is secure, the kaiju are all neutralized, and officers from the First Division are handling the rest. There's only one thing left.

Soshiro spots a drone hovering nearby and waves a hand at it. He can feel the camera focusing on him, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Gen watching with a frown. He shoots the camera a cheeky grin. "I think it's time I get back to my wife. See ya, Captain."

You groan loudly over comms and Soshiro laughs, shoulders shaking as he waves goodbye to the First Division and heads back to his car. Gen scoffs just as loudly and begins barking out orders, because he is a good captain underneath it all, and Soshiro should really get out of their territory before he ends up with more paperwork on his desk.

You're waiting for him in his office, perched on the edge of his chair with a familiar jacket covering your body. "The troublemaker returns," you announce, sweeping your arms out as if the office contains an audience and not just the two of you.

Soshiro laughs and steps into your embrace, squeezing you to him as you giggle. You're warm — and soft — and you smell like laundry detergent and sunshine and the faintest whiff of freshly brewed coffee. "Didja borrow my shampoo again, my dear?"

"It was my shampoo first," you scrunch your nose at him playfully. He snorts. Resists the urge to kiss your cheek — and then gives in a moment later, lips brushing soft along your skin. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. "Need help with your combat suit?"

Soshiro's fond smile goes a little sharp. "Are ya offerin'?"

"Yes, you menace," you stretch a little to give him a kiss. Soshiro's heart thunks painfully in his ribcage as the warm metal of your ring sweeps across his cheek. "Here, let me."

Soshiro stands still as you begin unzipping his combat suit. He keeps his gloved hands on your hips, muscles relaxing out of the subtle, constant strain of the suit as it releases his body little by little. You're taking your time — fingers dancing along his shoulders and pecs, palms smoothing down his biceps and nails catching just barely along the edge of his compression shirt.

He always keeps a spare set of uniforms in his office, so he's not the least bit surprised when you drag the zipper further down, your touch featherlight along the tense muscles of his abdomen. You suck in a breath and it's gratifying, always, to catch your gaze and the heat in your blown pupils.

You keep your eyes on his and nearly go cross eyed when he tips forward, purple strands tangling with your hair. Your thumbs trace idly along his hip bones. "Who's the menace now?"

"Still you."

Soshiro laughs quietly, nerves thrumming in his fingertips as his heart threatens to overflow. "I think you're a pretty good contender."

"Hmm, I dunno," you mutter, tugging the zipper a little further. Soshiro's briefs waistband is in view now, but you just lick your lips. "You're the one who insisted on returning the favor this morning, even though it's your birthday."

"Can't help it," he sneaks a kiss to your jaw, presses his lips against your fluttering pulse. "That was a great birthday gift — my pretty lil' wife, cumming all over my cock 'cause she knows it belongs to her."

Your face warms and Soshiro grins. Kisses your cheek. Catches your hand in his and rubs his thumb along your matching ring. "Alright, Vice Captain, you should really get changed," you say, and immediately Soshiro's expression falls. "Wh-what?"

"That's illegal," Soshiro says. He can feel himself pouting, but it's fine. Nobody's around to see except you. "I'm your husband!"

"Oops," you say. Your eyebrow raises and you tug the zipper the rest of the way down. Soshiro sucks in a breath. "Want me to make it up to you, birthday boy?"

He's achingly hard, nerves shivering with the release of the suit and anticipation, but you've gotten in trouble before for shenanigans on duty and he knows better. He does.

Really.

You smile into the kiss, lips moving comfortably against his own. Soshiro sighs into your pretty little gasp, teeth nipping at your lip before he pulls back completely. "Soshiro…?"

That's really not fair. "The captain'll understand, won't she?" Soshiro mutters. You giggle and he can't help it — he kisses you again.

You tug at his gloves wordlessly, too caught up in kissing him back for any finesse. With the removal of his gloves, the sleeves of his combat suit slide off, and the rest of it follows until it pools on the floor. You slip your fingers under the edge of his briefs as he tugs you close, his own hands now free to roam appreciatively over your body beneath your borrowed jacket.

"Does my husband have plans to take his boots off?" you ask teasingly, tilting your head as he sucks another mark into the soft skin of your neck. "We don't have much time before your next meeting."

Soshiro groans into your shoulder when you touch him, eyes flashing hot as your lips part in silent awe. "Are ya still stretched out from this mornin'?"

"I might've been — ah, touching myself, just a little bit, while I was waiting for you to get — Soshiro!"

Your laughter fills the air and Soshiro engraves it into his memory, takes every gasp and moan and the wet, warm heat of you and etches it into his bones. It never gets old — just better, with age and familiarity and the silly inside jokes layered upon your shared history. With the boundless love echoing through both of you, the promises and the choice to keep choosing each other through it all.

Soshiro chokes on a surprised laugh when you mumble something about how your tits must look like mont blanc desserts from how much attention he paid them. "Aw, darlin', are ya jealous? I swear I love ya more."

You lift a shaky hand from your face and manage to shoot him a look. "You're not denying it."

He kisses you, but you're both smiling too much, so he pulls back slightly to brush your noses together. "Didn't ya say somethin' about bein' late?"

"We won't be late," you say. Soshiro raises an eyebrow and you shrug demurely. "What can I say? I know my husband."

The loud bark of his laughter makes you grin, and he finally pulls out to get the two of you cleaned up and presentable. You had the foresight to stash a change of panties for yourself among his things, but he leaves his jacket on you, opting instead to wear your lab coat even though it strains over his shoulders.

"Sexy," you snort, tugging him closer by his belt loops. He steps into the space between your legs and hums as you reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "You look like you ran a marathon."

"Someone was a lil too distracted to care about my poor hair," Soshiro says lightly. You roll your eyes fondly. "But it's alright," he sighs, "at least I match my wife."

"Not quite yet," you mutter, gaze flicking to the mark you had managed to leave on his skin, sitting just beneath the edge of his turtleneck. "But it's fine," you smile sweetly, "I've got time."

"Is that a promise, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you slide your arms around his waist and he steps obligingly closer, letting you press your ear to his chest. The sigh you release makes his lips twitch with a pleased, fond smile. "The captain granted us the day off tomorrow, since you had to go help the First Division today. So you can party as long as you want tonight, and we'll still have all day tomorrow for me to make sure we match."

"Party?"

"Don't play dumb, Soshiro," you say. "You know I wouldn't have let you mark me up so visibly if we were going to a real meeting."

"I dunno," Soshiro hums, hugging you a little tighter. "I thought it was just my birthday present."

You lean back slightly to look at him. Sitting on his desk puts you at a bit of a disadvantage, but he thinks you look cute like this, with your soft gaze and the pretty tilt of your lips.

And to think — he'll have more of this. Years and years together, getting to see you smile and hearing the bright sound of your laugh. All the time he spends with you more than makes up for the reality and danger of your jobs, but it also means he cherishes each second with you in a way that he never takes for granted.

"What is it?" you ask. Soshiro's grip tightens slightly. Your confusion melts into understanding and you reach up to cup his face in your hands. "We're right here, Soshiro."

"I know." He kisses you softly. You sweep your thumbs along his cheekbones, so tenderly his heart aches.

"Happy birthday, my love."

#hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #kn8 x reader #hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #fuji writes fic #unedited and written last minute bc this week has been stupid #but it's his birthday!! the love of my life!!#forgive the combat suit descriptions i forgot they have like high tech zippers #actually soshiro's stupid compression shirt turtleneck made me pause too #like bro.... how dare you wear something that can cover neck hickeys #that's so unfair #also once again... sorry narumi #i swear. i promise. you will have your chances to shine #just not today LOL

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wannabanauthor · 2 days ago

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Tim Minear, here's a hint for you:

For BuckTommy, you don't even have to get them back together as a couple immediately.

You can bring Tommy back to give Buck some closure, and Buck can suggest they just be friends because he misses Tommy's company.

So they still hang out with each other and Eddie, and Buck finally feels ready to start dating again. He doesn't mention it to Tommy, but maybe one day someone lets something slip about Buck going on a great date with this amazing guy, and Tommy overhears it.

Since he broke up with Buck, he knows he can't really question Buck about it, but it still irks him for the very obvious reason that he's still in love with Buck but doesn't think it's fair to ask for a second chance after breaking Buck's heart.

But the slight twist is that Buck is genuine friends with the new guy he's dating, and they like to sleep together on occasion, but it's not an actual romantic relationship. Neither one of them are looking for something serious, but they enjoy each other's company. However, that's their own private business, so Buck hasn't told anyone else the details of his situation. He just allows everyone to believe he's dating.

He knows Tommy will find out eventually, but he doesn't want to tell him or bring it up because it'd be awkward.

Tommy is noticeably irritated and a little curt with Buck on the inside, but he maintains his mask perfectly so that Buck never catches on.

Until one night, they're about to leave for a movie, but Buck's "friend" calls and Buck has to cancel his plans with Tommy.

Tommy leaves, very upset and irritated, but he doesn't even make it to his car before he turns around goes back up to Buck's loft. He knows that nothing is official with Buck's friend, so he knocks on the door, and Buck answers it.

Tommy kisses him hard and closes the door behind him. Buck is in shock, much like the first time Tommy kissed Buck.

Tommy then just lets it all out. He tells Buck that he loves him and misses him, and he hates himself for ending things the way they did and for breaking both of their hearts. He says he thought he could handle Buck dating again, but he can't. He's still in love with him and wants him back. He's willing to do anything: seek counseling, starting over, even moving in with Buck on a trial run basis.

Buck starts crying and releases all the emotions/thoughts he's had/felt since Tommy broke up with him. He's angry, rightfully so, that Tommy hurt him and that it took seeing another man in Buck's life for Tommy to make a move. He asks why Tommy waited until now to really say anything. He talks extensively of all the ways Tommy hurt him when they broke up.

Then his final questions for Tommy are "Why now? Why are you willing to make an effort now and not months ago? Do you actually see a future with me? Or are you scared of being alone if I move on?"

Tommy confesses that he's always wanted a future with Buck, but he's scared of getting hurt again. But he acknowledges that Buck is not at fault for the way past partners have treated him, and he should have stayed and talked things over with Buck instead of ending things and walking away.

Buck kisses Tommy and says he misses him and loves him too. Tommy wipes away Buck's tears and kisses him again and again.

After a few smooches, Buck pulls back and clarifies that he's still angry and hurt over the breakup, but he wants to work through it. Tommy promises not to run away like that again, or at the very least tell Buck when he needs space to think something over before making a decision.

Then they work on their relationship until enough time has passed for them to be happily ever after.

Tim Minear, this storyline alone could last you a couple seasons since Tommy is a guest recurring character.

I'm throwing you a lifeline here, so take it and make something with it. Do what white men are known for and steal this idea and make it yours. Come on, you can do it. Prove to folks that you're not just a mediocre white man who skated by on privilege instead of talent.

Because the queer people of color in this fandom are doing a better job of explaining your mess than you are.

That is all.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tim minear #911 abc #911 discourse #do better tim #bucktommy fix it

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aithusarosekiller · 3 days ago

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Honestly we need to make more GENUINE enemies to lovers Jegulus content

With so so much emphasis on the enemies to the point where it's practically enemies AND lovers

The type where they're so damn evil to each other that you question whether them getting together breaks some sort of moral code but at the same time you can't help but wait for them to angrily kiss.

They're calling each other the most horrific, offensive names and doing everything they can to get a rise out of each other. They're using one another to turn their friends against them. They're getting in physical fights (so much tension there it's sickening) and they're just straight up vile constantly.

They NEVER EVER shut up about how much they hate one another, they'll both search each other out in order to cause some form of damage to either property or the person. Whenever they need to let off some steam they pick a fight because it's become habit. It goes on for years.

When they eventually get together it's with so much resentment. They almost definitely accidentally confess or kiss in the middle of a fight and it only increases the anger on both sides. So now they're both aware that they're into each other but they refuse to step down and say they like each other because 'he's still so infuriating and his ego is too big already, I can't let him think he's hot and worth being around' so they pretend it never happened and keep 'hating' each other. Over the next few weeks they will be literally clinging so desperately to each other like they can't bear to be apart while whispering hatred to each other looking like they want to kill each other. And it isn't that there's a weird coercion thing with a power imbalance, they're both equal, they're just annoying little violent shits.

It only mostly dulls with time. They're 6 years into their relationship planning their wedding while cuddling up in bed and have to pause to insult each other's taste, looks, and personality, fight over literally nothing and bring up times from the past that they managed to get one up on the other, then smile sweetly and have a tiny little gentle kiss before going back to planning. Their petnames consist of 'fuckface' 'foureyes' 'ugly cow' and 'wankstain' and they're used intermittently with 'baby' 'lover' 'babydoll' 'my heart' and ANY other cringe ass name you can think of. Duality. Idk just James potter saying babydoll to the person he just accused of being a lying, money-hungry, ugly, disrespectful whore is so him.

Any normal reasonable stranger would be so worried about how unhealthy and toxic it is but they're just so used to hating each other that it's become a love language. A way to express themselves and reminisce together. They know they love each other but it's just fun to pretend they don't, there are boundaries since they got together but they never really talk about them bc they know what they are and not to cross them.

#you just know they're into loads of weird shit too 💀#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #regulus black #james potter #marauders era

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blkkizzat · 3 days ago

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I made box brownies. They're excellent. Something every baker should know...include a little instant coffee: made or granules.

Now that that's out there. Your JJk man is mad at you. How do you proceed?

Nanami, i feel like you just have to wait that shit out. He'll calm down sooner or later and talk it out with you.

Geto will be passive-aggressive, but you keep your head on straight and he'll eventually tell you what's wrong.

Gojo: show him your tits. He can't stay mad if you show him tits.

Sukuna...hope you don't make him mad.

Toji, flash your credit card a little. Buy him dinner for the one time. Give him a blow job when you get home. He'll chil out.

Thoughts by - 🧠

Hey 🧠 nonny bae! sorry this took so long I havent been feeling the best and ive been super busy😭😭

Nanami: omg I feel like we would have to have really done some bullshit for him to be mad 😭. Nananmi strikes me as the "dont go to bed angry type, so even if he was still mad he would still give us a kiss on the forehead a quick, love you before going to bed. And if we insisted he would still spoon us.

Geto: oh i definitely see that he is like king of PA lol. i feel like ya'll gonna have to mind game each other and its a battle of wills who caves first. although i feel like by the end, after all the layers of manipulation, neither of you know what you were bad about in the first place, end up hate fucking and calling it a day LOL.

Gojo: GoHOE is so easy to please lmfao. just baby him a bit and fuck him calm again.

Sukuna: LOL I think he would just start ignoring you and taking it out on everyone else around him. He would say he wouldn't want to see you but he's pouting waiting for you to come gravel. You of course dont want to get your head lopped off so you are avoiding him until Uraume has has enough and insists you go apologize. You wont be walking for the next week after all the makeup sex but at least you are still alive!

Toji: fihvnfdlnvskfjh not give him money. 😭😭 he aint gettin shit from me for free except 'free the bros' 😂😂. But I'll cook em a thanksgiving like spread and do a lil dance on that dick and he'll be alright. uhcaudbhfkhbfkd

Choso: skips being mad and goes straight to switch-dom mode and gonna fuck his frustration out. no condom and hes bustin inside so you better hope you on birth controlkjrehfnskhfvks.

Higuruma: run him a bath after a long day, have a meal and a wet puss ready and he is more than willing to forgive, hes too tired to stay mad anyway.

#🧠 anon #ೃ༝💌⁀➷ 𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉мαιℓ #ೃ💌⁀➷𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉αησηѕ #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #higuruma hiromi #choso kamo #nanami kento #sukuna

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starlightoru-gojo · 12 hours ago

Text

Glitch

Just silly thought about my man. I actually enjoyed writing this one, hope you will have fun reading too. Inspired by T. S song Glitch. Friends to idiots to lovers (because I'm a sucker for this trope huehue)

When you meet the wit's ends of your mind, everything just feels blank and numb. When the most gruelsome scene are presented infront of you, no matter how you tried to move how your mind shouts run! Run! Run! But your body stays... and stays no matter how your whole system stays watching like there's some glitch.

"Run, y/n!" You heard your mom shouted before you felt her blood splashed on you. You never saw what happened, you just felt it. A hand covering your eyes, like trying to protect you from from image on how your parents died.

"Hello. Y/n, right?" The woman and a man sat infront of you, smiling brightly as if nothing gruesome happened just minutes ago.

The dark seems peaceful, the moon made a vast illumination. This countryside was peaceful, just cicada noises can be heard during the summer and cool breeze in the fall but not tonight.

You nod at them, their smile is bright and warm and your confused for a five-years old to understand how can that smile show.

They look young and old at the same time, the man messed your hair and genuinely smiled this time.

"You can cry." That feels like a trigger for you, how everything flashed back, how your parents struggled to protect you but failed. You cry on them, trying to find shelter and they let you.

After calming you, they looked at you. You think they're trying to communicate.

"Do you want to go with us?"

That's how your sorcerer journey started, for a young little miss at five you couldn't quite understand what this all mean but as time goes by this world is far different from how you used to be.

They trained you, from a normal person to someone who can imbue curse energy. You live your life as if your part of them since the beginning like you were born for this world.

Sitting alone in the corner of your classroom near the window, just sightseeing, your actually waiting for everyone. First day of high school and your alone in this big room.

Not when the door fly open, you crunched your nose watching who it might be.

"What?! No teacher?!" Before he can enter the room he just shouted. You just watch him curiously, who is this boy?

Tall, white hair with glasses on? He entered the room alone now noticing you from the far end of the room, your face immediately heat up when he caught you watching him.

He looks like an angel. Minus the mouth.

He's alone. You're alone. You're both alone in this big room.

"Yo, whatcha doin'?" He occasionally asked you, sitting next to the chair beside you.

"Nothing, actually." You closed your notebook, it's just scribbles because you're bored.

You looked at him, he got blue eyes!! Pretty blue eyes!!!

"Guess they're not coming, huh?" Is he trying to have conversation? For a quiet and reserved person like you its hard to come up with a good conversation but you think not with him.

"I guess so. It's first day."

"Why did you go still?" His voice is teasing. "Are you grade conscious or somethin'?"

"No!" Yes. Yes, you are. He laugh at your defensive reaction, he knew better. He's laugh is beautiful you noticed.

"And why you're still here too?" You diverted the attention.

" 'm just bored." Okay. Fair. So, you just nod.

You two shared silence, awkward silence. He's watching you which makes this all awkward.

"I'm Satoru Gojou. The great one."

You laugh at what he said. How can someone introduce like that?

"Hi, Satoru Gojou the great one. I'm y/n. The nothing. "

You know Satoru Gojou, of course but this is the first time you've seen him, you've pictured him out someone like arrogant and not like this.

"You know me, right?" You crunched your forehead and nod.

"Heard your name before." That's true though, you are busy in far corner of Japan to know every person.

"Right, want to grab some food?"

Your thoughts were cut off when Shoko patted your head and head out together with Suguru. They have some important mission to do.

Was that for sympathy? Suguru just messed with your hair.

"He'll grow up and don't wait for him." You wanted to pout at what he said, you know what he meant.

"What? I don't like him." You said as you removed his hand on you. It's nit like you proclaim something for them to say that.

"Suguru never said a name." Shoko chimed in and they snicker at you. You shoo them away, these two is your death every time. They're like your ticking bomb whenever Satoru is there watching your every reaction.

It's your second year, everything is going smooth. But, not your heart it's been beating abnormally, arrythmia? Heart disease? But Shoko called Satoru-rythmia, because it only occurs when Satoru's around.

You watched him from a far talking with girls on the school grounds, you squint your eyes all giggling you throw a disgusting look at them.

You kicked his ankle when your at his back. And he immediately turned around to looked at who is this someone behind him.

"Our training." You just said and left him there.

"Sorry, Y/n time!!" You heard him and you can hear him run towards you.

He's been like that, you assumedly thought you're special at some point but you're just really deluded maybe because from watching too much dramas or reading books. He's just like that for everyone. Accomodating. Friendly. And warm.

He lunge at your back when your guard is down, you shriek when you felled on your shoes because he's heavy.

"Satoru!" You both fell on the grass ground, Satoru hugging you while laughing at your demise. You sit beside his waist and slap his arm but his just laughing.

You stared at him, he's laughing blissfully. Hair was away from his forehead, some were on the ground. Is his hair soft? It looked so soft specially when he messed it up when he thinks deeply. He looked like a real angel this close.

Oh, there it is again.

Satoru-rythmia.

Happy crush? This was supposed to be just a happy crush for you. Satoru's oh Satoru Gojou what are you doing with me?

Sitting alone on the stair in the field just thinking deeply, this summer afternoon is kinda dragging the school's been busy with the Kyoto's School visit and you don't want to deal with them. You train yourself, Satoru's been mostly your aid but he's not around and you don't try to contact him so you can sort your feelings out.

Happy crush. Yeah. That is all.

Satoru's not the boyfriend type but if he tries you think he will be a great one. Caring, thoughtful and super sweet yet you can picture him to be so clingy not that you mind- you covered your face with your palms.

"No, no, no!" He's your bestfriend, what's wrong with you?

You jump off your seat trying to make a defensive stance when a cold thing touch your head.

"Scaredy-Peanut!!" Satoru laugh at you and removed the bag full of...ice cream? on your head.

"What is your problem?!" You glared at his tall figure standing beside you.

"Hmm...I should ask you that." He said sitting beside you. "What is your problem, y/n?" Your eyes meet, oh those beautiful blue eyes, your the first one to look away.

"Nothing for you to be concerned of... can I have ice cream?" You unashamedly ask. You stares at you before lifting the bag away.

"No."

"You're greedy, you know that?"

"Yes." He chuckled.

You watched him, he looks happy right now like something happened without you even knowing. He's not wearing any glasses, which concerns you.

"Toru, your eyes." You immediately covered it with your hands. There are many people in the school right now because kyoto people are here and the summer sun is shinning brightly that might strain him.

He's so close and you felt your heart coming out its ribcage.

"Hey... it's okay, I can handle it better." The concerned look you gave him just made you worry more. He hold your wrist to remove your hands on his eyes.

"You sure?" You looked at him genuinely and he nod. You sag your shoulders in relief. And he messed with you hair.

"Yes, maam." He said jokingly. You pushed his shoulder and make face.

"Don't barged in my room when your head's aching." You made a hmp reaction and tear your gaze away from him.

"Here's your ice cream because I made my fave person in the world worry."

End of second year was when you go mission together without your teacher's supervision. There are just nights that are pure strolling and sightseeing.

Staring at the starry night of Kyoto, you and Satoru stand above the tallest building in the city, leaning on the railing you looked to watched the bustling city.

"This is beautiful, huh" you said while drinking you canned latte.

"Yeah, thank me y/n" you just shrug him off. Satoru's really the strongest and became more. You saw how he fought curses and it amazed you the first time. And his showing off everytime would boast about how great he is.

But, he's dreadfully quiet right now so you moved closer to touch his arm with you. Although your heart is not helping you but you think he had some problems.

"You okay?" You asked when the silence dragged between both of you. This is unusual, you're both loud when you're together and... chaotic that it sometimes pissed of Shoko and Suguru they don't know what possessed you to be influenced by Satoru.

You looked him watching the city before he looked at you.

"Have... you ever kissed someone?" You blink once. Twice. Thrice. Before you snapped in your periphery.

"No." Your face warmed, hearts beating loudly. You laughed it out, you want to curse how your heart just doubled its pace more the abnormal one. "Why would you ask that? That's rude."

"We're friends, you know? It's not that rude. Well, I got mine."

"What?" You crunched your forehead on what he said. What he got? Trying to look at him in puzzle.

Satoru looked at you. You heard it, you know you heard it but your brain can't process it quickly.

"Uh... kiss? You remembered that girl from Kyoto?" Well, I am from Kyoto too. But not the downtown though. You want to say it, but settled for crumpling your skirt and looking away. You bit your lower lip trying not to cry infront of him.

"Y-you have a girlfriend now?" That's childish of you. Focus on the city or the stars, you can't cry infront of him.

"Nah doubt it, I just want the fun."

You're quiet. Satoru tried looking into your eyes but you refused to looked at him.

So, this is how it felt to be heart broken is it? You thought it will be loud, but yours is silent. Maybe, silence hides the loudest scream.

"Right. I'll just pee. I'll be back." You walked out without waiting for his response.

After that night, you tried hiding from him or whenever his around you go home you just tried everything to get away from him. It's a long 3 months for you and it's pointless because he is very persistent and annoying about it.

"Okay. Next mission, Gojou and y/n." You crossed your arm on your chest hearing what Yaga-sensei announced, you just looked infront not bothering to glance at your seatmate.

"Yes, Satoru?" Yaga-sensei said.

"Y/n don't want to be with me, sensei!" Satoru shouted and you heard Shoko and Suguru scoffed trying not to laugh. You glared at him and he just smiled widely at you with a raised hand.

"Is there a problem, y/n?" You closed your eyes and calmed your nerves.

"No."

"Did I do something wrong?" He's been following you like a dog all day and a broken record asking the same question. And he's been doing this in those months if his not away for a mission and it's so exhausting.

This is hard you think because he did not do something wrong, it's not his fault to not like you right? And as if you confessed? Not in a millionth time. It's not his responsibility to cradle your broken heart.

You're both walking in an empty path way in the school you're trying to get away from him again.

It's serene if Satoru's not loud. Autumn's coming, you walked on a blanket of falling leaves crisp and pretty.

Maybe, it's your fault for liking him in the first place and treating this way is just a evidence of how awful you are as a person and a friend.

You stop walking and face him. Satoru halted on your sudden pause. Just feet away. You want to memorize his face, his features, the way his hair sway when the wind gently blew it or how his smile can brighten up your any dull day. You want to memorize it all before you can make your resolve. You want to memorize everything that makes you feel this way towards him.

You close your eyes. And gently open it again and you met his beautiful ones.

"Satoru... Satoru Gojou, " you whispered like a prayer. He's name is divine on your lips. "I-I'll be back somehow just give me time, okay? And you did not do something wrong so don't worry." Your heart is aching, it's breaking you can feel it. You smiled at him and turned away as your tears fall as you walked away at him.

5 months after you finally convinced yourself that having feelings for Satoru is useless. And just be back to be his best friend.

Final year of high school when he's suddenly calling you glitch. It confuses you at first but you let him be because that's how he usually is calling you with different names everyday but this time its just consistent. And its bothering you somehow.

"Why are you calling me glitch, toru?" You ask after munching a spoon of pudding, you're just chilling in your favourite pastry shop along the secluded street of Tokyo, it was an innocent question.

"Hmm?" You watched him changed from one dessert to another, definitely so busy. "Because you're my lil glitch." He said without watching you because again he is busy.

You just frowned at him but never bother to push the topic further.

You think you have been successful on your resolve so far half a year have passed. Almost graduating. Satoru's been the same annoying and all.

"Is that delicious?" He stop your train of thoughts md pointed at your pudding. You pulled the pudding closer to you and looked at him accusingly.

"Yes."

"Gimme a bite."

"No."

"Please, my glitch y/n." There he go again.

"I want that cookie too." You pointed at the red velvet cookie.

"Just a bite?" You nod and he nod. And you feed him and exhanged your food.

You frowned when you received an email saying that you were called by the higher ups. Your hands were cold, looking at those elders are scary. What more opening the door in the chambers.

You crunched your head after that meeting are they threatening you?

"You know we can just ditch you if we want, right? In the first place you did not belong in this world."

You're helping Satoru in his pursuit of change and that threaten the higher ups and now they're digging your past and using it against you.

"My glitch!" You just walk not bothering to looked at Satoru, just thinking deeply.

You know what they mean, they can remove your privelege to be sorcerer but the fact that they said you did belong is quite a harsh comment.

Is that what a glitch mean?

You stop on your tracks and you faced Satoru. Who is smiling infront of you.

"Is that why you call me glitch?" You voice is accusatory which made Satoru's stance defensive. You scowled at him, unshed tears on your eyes.

You knew well he did not like you, but to make you feel unwanted is a different kind of hurt.

You held your feelings well enough, you hide it earnestly but being trashed out by someone you love is just piercing through your heart he can just say he don't want you, right?

"What? Hey, y/n..."

"Not now, Gojo. I'm tired."

You don't have time for funny business any time you'll be trumped by the higher ups. It's been months since that incident happen and you're not talking to Satoru ever since. You've been both busy to mind anything, he will just looked at you pleadingly and you will looked away. This has been your routine after Satoru asked you what's wrong that day. It's tiring and it's hard watching Satoru's beautiful eyes lost it's glimmer.

Satoru gave you time. Spring came and graduation day is coming. Have he done anything to upset you? He's been bugging Suguru and Shoko but both don't know either.

You were talking to one of your colleague, the one who accompanied you in one of the mission in far away tokyo, he's here to pick up tools that they might need for mission in care of Yaga. Tomorrow's graduation so your both excited talking about it.

You're both walking on the cherry blossoms carpeted pathways of Jujutsu Tech. Everything is just painted with colors of cherry blossom. The cold breeze with some petals with it is just beautiful.

"Y/n!"

You halted on your walk and looked at the man at your back. Your laugh stop and you scowled at him immediately. What now?

"Hey, you can just y straight up walk there and that's Yaga-sensei's office." You waved goodbye at Kyohei.

After Kyohei disappeared, you face Satoru once again with disinterest.

"What?" You asked when his nearing you.

"Who's that?" He asked seriously. You want to pinch his side when you noticed how his eyes is uncovered.

"Yaga-sensei's guest." You said dismissively, he stared at you. His eyes are just so pretty. You crunched your forehead. You can't just let this happen again and again.

"You can't just walk with bare eyes." You said nonchalantly and walk out. You crossed your hands on your chest walking back to your dorm room. And just hide for the rest of the day.

"There's someone I need to put out my bandages on but been hiding from me." Satoru said now walking beside you. You stop and scowl at him and noticed his wearing his very dark shade right now. You just hmp! Him and walk again.

"Maybe, she's angry again or something?" He just kept on rambling and you just make face everytime. You don't know but the walk way towards the dorms seems to stretch more. It feels so long and distant. The more you walk stepping the sakura petals makes your heart flutter more.

"I kind of missed her, by the way." You can feel the smile on his face. And your heart ache, it's like he meant it in a romantic way. But you know he just missed her bestfriend.

"It's been months how can she endure not to talk to me for that long, huh? I can't even sleep properly when she's away fighting curses? Bet, she's happy being away from me." His monologue continue.

You stop your tracks, what does he meant by that? You've been miserable all of those times! And he stopped too. You side eyed him but shrugged him off.

"I don't even know what I did wrong, did I? And I might be out for a long time and still she's not talking. I might be gone tomorrow and-"

You completely stop walking to face him. He is smiling, that annoying smile, that annoying eyes, that annoying face! You scowled at him.

"What did you say?" He raised a brow feeling triumphant that he finally got your attention.

"I might be away?"

"Yes. What was that?" You inquired curiously. You did not know that!

"Secret Mission." You just raised a brow at him. Okay. That's completely out of you. Sometimes, Satoru or most of the time Satoru is given highly confidential missions and you don't pry any further, that's just how he is.

"How long?"

"A month." You just nod and walk back. You heard Satoru sighed after a while.

"and you don't still talk to me? I don't want any more distance with us." He grabbed you by your hand. You just looked at him. "You can't be unfair to me, I don't even know what I did wrong or the last one. At least talk to me, I can't be on the shade forever." He said pleading.

"I'm a glitch. How can you be so invested with a glitch." You watch how his face contorts in confusion.

"What?"

"Is that it Gojo? I am a glitch in this world, right?" He knew everything about your background how can he used it against you?

"What are you saying, y/n?"

"I'm a glitch in the system, right? I don't belong here, everyone think I don't belong here." Your angry tears are making you blur your vision. "You called me a glitch like that old man said in the meeting! You can just trash me out-"

But, Satoru laugh and you just cried more. What is his problem? Insulting you with his laugh.

He suddenly pulled you in a hug that stiffened you. You held you breath.

"You are so mean!" You slap his chest and cried more.

" 'm sorry!" He encircled you with his arms for a hug.

Placing both hands on your shoulder when you calmed down. He watched you sniffing. And smiled fondly of you. Using his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

"Your smart brain is really playing with you. Don't you think?" You scowled with unshed tears.

"You know why you're my glitch?" You pouted what is this all about now?

"Gojou, I'm not fond of your funny business right now."

"Please, ask me!"

You sighed. Defeated. Tired.

"Why?"

"Because, you are a glitch in my system." You frowned. "It was supposed to be just a happy crush y/n, what are you doing to me?"

He whispered the last sentences that your heart beat rapidly. There is it again. Satoru-rythmia. It's back. Eyes wide looking at him. Realizing everything.

He pulled you again for a hug. Soothing. Healing. He whispered softly.

"Yes, that's what it mean, love. So, you're a glitch y/n. My glitch."

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojou #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you

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