#but I'm like 'dude they don't even make it to the first quarter of the series' lmao

[moghedien]

not gonna lie, I see show only reactors talking about how Rand is bad for sleeping with Lanfear while Egwene thinks he's dead and I'm like "what?" every single time because I legit forget they were a couple until that is flaunted in my face on rewatches/rereads

[won4youu]

Kiss Cam.

pairing: bsf!jake x downbad!reader

genres: fluff, suggestive?, idiots to lovers(sorta)

wc: 5.7k

warning: well there's a kiss cam involved so they kiss 🤭, use of cuss words, also idk anything about American football so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong about it lolol

a/n: this has been collecting dust in our drafts for wayyy too long lol soooo if you like it please reblog and consider following!

written by both @raven-naaaaa and @theaspen

You know that feeling when you look at your best friend and your heart skips a beat, and their smile makes you smile and the entire world seems to fade into the background and it feels like it's just you and him in the room?

Yeah, apparently not everyone felt that way about their best friend. But..you did.

Jake Sim made you so goddamn happy.

Whenever his eyes searched for yours in every crowded room, and the instant smile that accompanied his starry eyes when he recognized your face, your heart did a little tap dance.Either you were projecting your thoughts onto him or just maybe, he liked you too.

But here's the thing, you don't think “like” would do justice to the feelings you harboured for the boy, and using the big L word made your insides cringe.

You've never been in love before. Crushes? Sure, you've had those. But these huge feelings? Those selfish instincts that came over whenever his smile was shared with everyone else as well? Was that normal? You didn't want to know.

"Hi __," his voice is warm and familiar. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into one of those hugs you've come to love.

"Hi Jake,” You greet him back. Internally scoffing at yourself. Because practically anyone could hear the giddy smile that accompanied your voice.

Jake pulls you even closer, if that was even possible. Smiling into your shoulder as well. It's been a few seconds, but his hands still linger on your waist and when he pulls back you can still feel his touch.

Jake's touch is gone, but your heart still feels that stupid annoying rush. You ignore it completely, because honestly? The intensity of your feelings scare you, and the way Jake throws you the yearning glances scare you even more. In fear that you're probably just being delusional all by yourself.

"You look good," he tells you as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You don't try to fight his touch. If anything you lean into it.

Jake seems to have noticed that- his thumb traces some invisible shape on your cheek, eyes so full of adoration.

"Thank you," you reply bashfully. Somehow you could never be nonchalant and cool to him like you are with others. And it pisses you off.

"Come on, let's get to our seats," he says, holding your hand and dragging you through the semi crowd and toward the seating area.

Coming to a football game would definitely not be your first choice, but here you were, with Jake because Heeseung “dropped out” at the last minute and he needed some company.

Okay, here's the deal. You didn't know much about football, but you just came along because well, you're a fool in love.

You didn't mind it honestly, because if watching some dude run around the field with a ball made Jake happy, you'd sit through it for however many times he wanted.

So there you were sitting mindlessly nipping at your sandwich.

“___, the first quarter is done,” Jake grins as he sits down beside you.

“How many more of these do I have to sit through Sim,” you fake whine as Jake laughs beside you.

“You do realise you didn't have to come along with me right?” He chuckles, throwing an arm across your shoulder.

“And leave you here all by yourself to look like a loser with no friends?” You scoff, giving him a smug look, “I'm practically saving your reputation here Sim. A thanks and a lifetime supply of chocolate muffins would do.”

Jake simply rolls his eyes at your faux uppity look.

You shift in your chair as you look around the field, “What do people even do in these breaks?” you ask.

Jake points towards the huge screen that was displaying the results a minute ago.

“See that,” you hum mindlessly, “that is a kiss cam. So during the breaks, people usually just look at other people snogging each other.” You snort at his words and look at the screen. As if on cue, the camera points towards a young couple. The couple share a flustered look before pecking each other and the entire stadium erupts into cheers, and you couldn't help the smile on your face.

“That's so cute…but also lowkey weird, what if it points towards siblings? Or like friends? Wouldn't that put them in an awkward position?” Your question is genuine, but Jake only hangs on to one thing you said.

“Friends?”, he parrots, as his cheeks flush pink, “like us..?” His voice is low, but you catch onto it. Your face heats up at the thought of kissing him. You lock eyes with the boy. There was something so magnetic about his eyes.

You let out an awkward chuckle, “I mean, we don't have to worry about that, no?” You force out a laugh, fiddling with your fingers. “It's not like the camera is gonna point at us.”

“___,” Jake whispers, “you might want to look at the screen.”

Well, fuck.

The camera was pointing towards a very familiar young couple, well at least they looked like a couple on screen. You swore to God your heart was going to jump out of your rib cage. You turn away from Jake, avoiding the camera and Jake laughs awkwardly, crossing his arms to sign ‘no’, which had the audience booing at the two of you.

Thankfully, the camera quickly pans towards another couple, who seem more than happy to kiss each other.

Jake breathes a sigh of relief which you don't miss. Your chest heaves a tiny tiny little bit in disappointment.

Luck definitely wasn't on your side today because soon after, the camera panned towards you and Jake. Again.

Jake laughs as he signs ‘no’, earning more boos from the crowd. You looked up at the screen and noticed that the camera was still on the two of you.

You don't really know what got into you, maybe it was the consistent booing by the crowd that finally tipped you over, because one second you were looking at Jake on the screen and the other your hands were on his face as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Sim, I'm going to kiss you,” you rush as you pull him towards you, “If you don't want this tell me now.” He doesn't really remember much of what he said. All Jake remembers is the feeling of his lips on yours.

He could have sworn he heard fireworks when you pulled him closer and crashed your lips against his. Your lips were soft against his and there was a sense of longing in them. God, you drove him mad.

He lets out a groan as his hands find company at your waist, pressing and feeling your skin. He couldn't believe this was happening.

You couldn't believe it either. The moment his lips were on yours, it felt like it was just the two of you in the stadium, but unfortunately, the loud cheers of the audience brought you back to your senses as you heaved against his chest, him burying his head into your neck.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I've waited for that,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back. “Yeah?” You look up at him with a flustered smile.

“Yeah.” He says, gulping. The rosy flush on his cheeks still present. The camera isn't pointing at you two anymore and the game has already resumed again. But the two of you can't help but continue to act like giddy idiots.

You're definitely gonna have to thank Heeseung for dipping out on Jake today.

[ram-bles]

Headcanons with Daisuke and Shy Reader? Thanks if you do :)

daisuke x shy!reader headcanons

[ requests/inbox: open ]

oh boy changing the mood with this one

fluff, gender neutral reader

⚠️ dude/bro used but in a gender neutral way lol

Sorry this took so long! I had to rewrite more than half of this since I forgot to save as draft the last time 😭

🌺 The first you've seen him was while processing your papers for the internship. He was busy double checking his own papers on his way out so he didn't notice you. The first time he sees you, was during the Tulpar boarding.

🌺 To no surprise, he approaches and greets you first, rambling on about how totally excited he was to work with you and the whole crew. You shook his hand with an awkward smile as you exchanged introductions.

Once the captain had given you both an overview of what you guys might do while on board, he immediately turns to you, jutting his hand out for a handshake. "Heya! I'm Daisuke!" You swore you were blinded by how bright this man smiled at you. "Dude, I'm like so so glad you're here. Everyone else here besides Cap' seems so— yeesh. Gloomy." You realized you've almost left him hanging and you almost dropped your bag trying to shake his hand. He laughs and you felt your face warm up in embarrassment. He switches topic immediately. "What's your name? What uni you from? - oh! What college are you in?"

🌺 You wouldn't notice it until later on that you'd often trail behind Daisuke, especially when you don't know what you're doing or how to help (he doesn't know how as well but he pretends he does).

🌺 Assuming that the rooms are very limited and can house two members per room (bunk bed icon by Curly's quarters door), you two got paired up since Swansea didn't want to be in the same room as Daisuke did.

🌺 A coin had to be flipped for the top bunk since Daisuke kept on insisting that you take it but you were also insisting that he takes it.

🌺 Even before the crash, he's either on his gameboy, magazines, or his iconic pink dumbbells when you guys have the free time.

🌺 Once comfortable enough, you two were inseparable. Always together by the hip outside intern work. The top bunk was useless since you'd both end up chilling at the same place, either sprawled against each other or claiming territories at each end of the bed doing whatever hobbies you two were into.

"Bro, you're kicking my faaaace. I can't see what I'm reading." You whined and tried pushing his leg away since you were scanning through one of the magazines he brought and he gives you a mischievous stare. "Daisuke, no." "Daisuke, yes." He pauses his game and throws it to the side, yanking your leg as you squealed and flailed around. You lose. But you both end up laughing as he locked you to his side, giving you a noogie, not long until Swansea busts in to scold you two for being too rowdy.

[might make a one-shot of this if you guys are interested?]

🌺 Hey, even if you guys are that close already and you don't chat as much, he'll be the one doing it for the both of you. I don't make the rules.

🌺 If you have inquiries with the other members, he accompanies you and asks the questions for you.

🌺 Daisuke pretty much drags you with him for whatever shenanigans he's up to. Don't worry, he takes the blame if you guys get caught and makes sure they think you're uninvolved.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

------------------------------

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

[mercy-misrule]

mouthwashing spoilers, discussion of fictional sexual assault, fictional emotional abuse

Curly chat!

ok so I have some Curly thoughts. Just the way I'm reading the story. A little bit of conjecture.

See the thing is, I think Curly DID approach Jimmy after Anya told him about the assault the first time. AND I think he believed he 'fixed' it. I think that Curly believed Anya 100% and he thought that the way to deal with the issue was to discuss it with Jimmy and maybe extract some sort of promise not to touch her again etc. That part doesn't matter.

Because one of the things that fascinates me about Curly is that he never questions Anya. He asks who the father is, and then that's it. He instantly accepts Anya's response.

And that's such a different reaction than the average narrative about revealing your abuse to someone. Straight up, it is so rare to have someone believe you at first go. People minimise it, question you, ask, are you sure?

But Curly says, we can fix this.

It's worse than if he was a bro before hoes dude. He's not. What he is? He is a person entirely motivated by fear. Curly's number one motivator is "Please don't be mad at me."

And that causes him to freeze into inaction, causes him to people please to a fatal degree, causes him to fail at his job as an authority.

Take Anya stealing the gun. Look at the situation from an objective, unemotional perspective.

A person on your crew has stolen and hidden away the only gun on the ship. You find out that they have fear for their and maybe other's lives and have motivation to use this weapon.

The captain's move here is to insist on the weapon being returned. The captain's move is to threaten punishment and follow through. That is the duty of a commander, to secure the safety of the crew.

But Curly first begs her, tries to cajole her with promising no punishment. And then when Anya says that she's keeping it so Jimmy can't find it...he doesn't push the issue.

Because he cannot enforce his will on her, because it will make her upset with him.

Curly discloses the fate of their employment hundreds of days early, because the other option, telling them 48 hrs before they land will make the entire crew mad at him.

His whole plan here is all about anxiety reduction, his own anxiety. The desired outcome is 'please don't be mad at me'.

The first thing he asks Anya after she tells him that she told Jimmy about the pregnancy, is "Was he angry?"

and then when he finds Jimmy, its nothing but assurances, nothing but begging that it will be ok.

And when Jimmy gets angry with him, and then says the most ominous stuff about them all dying, and how its all Curly's fault...

Curly freezes. Curly doesn't respond. The worst thing in the world has happened...someone is mad at him.

Taking responsibility in this story isn't about how Curly shoulda beaten Jimmy up. It's responsibility for your own actions or lack thereof.

Curly's fear, his passivity, his fear of confrontation is a foundational flaw.

Being non-confrontational is often framed as a positive and I love that we see the negative aspect of this. Some things need confrontation.

Curly's lack of side taking ends up being taking Jimmy's side, even though that's not his intent. Inaction! Passivity! Hoping it will all work out somehow!

I like that Curly's motivation is so self focused. The sort of character he is, its such a real thing. Stay friends with a person you absolutely know is bad news because the alternative is confrontation. Don't even question it. Close your eyes and ears and hope that the repeated behaviour you see will stop if you're nice enough.

If you put yourself in the line of fire, isn't that leadership? He'll fix this, Anya! He'll fix this Jimmy!

It's not a fixable situation. A crew member has sexually assaulted another member. She is now pregnant. They are on a ship halfway through a year long trip, in close quarters, with no brig, with minimal medical support.

There's no way to get through this without massive confrontation, without compromise. No one is walking away from this situation happy.

But Curly's focus narrows down to 'how can I make it so no one is mad at me?' A fear based motivation will always leave you weakened. It's never a strong foundation to build on.

And then the end result: Jimmy tries to kill them all. Curly is left the most vulnerable a person can be. Everyone around him is a threat to him and each other, and they are all at the mercy of Jimmy's temper, his displaced guilt and rage, his incompetence.

Because the other thing about Curly? Is that being a people pleaser does work. It's always going to have a downfall, it's always going to backfire, it's always going to hurt you and others, but people like being appeased!

Add that into what we know is Curly's technical competence as a pilot and no wonder he's been successful for so long, even knowing as we do that he's clearly massively depressed, in this toxic friendship with Jimmy and so unhappy with everything.

Jimmy is not a people pleaser, he wants control at any cost. He's also too incompetent to maintain it, except over Curly.

He had control of Curly in their relationship. He could lash out verbally and Curly acquiesced.

I think its really interesting to look at Curly and understand the damage you can do to yourself and others by never confronting your own fear. You fail your own values, you give in where you should stand strong.

Mouthwashing would be such a boring game if Curly was just on Jimmy's side, blindly, and then the writing would suggest that Jimmy's subsequent abuse and violation of him is somehow karma.

That would be gross, and lazy. The shittiest sort of narrative.

Instead there is no justification of Jimmy's violence towards anyone, especially Curly and Anya, except from Jimmy himself. Jimmy's cruelty to post crash Curly, just him exercising that control.

And what a fascinating thing it is, the repeated refrain of 'I can fix this!' in a game about taking responsibilty. You can't. You can't fix this.

[octuscle]

Road Trip to a new life

Bloody hell, Chuck thought to himself! They can't just forget me here! His football team was on its way home from an away game. A very successful away game. And they all had their star quarterback to thank for that. And that was him, that was Chuck. And now they had all just taken a pee break. At a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. And hey, Chuck had been flirting with the cute waitress at the diner. And yes, he had fucked her in the broom closet. Hehehe, he thought to himself for a brief moment. A map of the state, showing the broom closets where he'd fucked basement girls, cheerleaders, or even teachers from schools he'd usually flunked out of shortly afterward. That would be a cool idea! His grin didn't last long. Shit, the team bus had left. Without him. And now he was standing here in the rain with no idea how he was going to get home.

A truck came to a halt next to him. A horn sounded very loudly. Chuck didn't react yet. The passenger door opened and a bearded guy looked out. "Son, you look lost. Can I give you a ride?" Chuck hesitated for a moment. He was still far too confused, far too angry to think clearly. "Sure, that would be cool," he replied. And climbed into the cab of the monstrous truck. It smelled of cigar smoke and sweat. Chuck looked at the driver. A short, slightly overweight guy. Unkempt. The dirty T-shirt ended just above the large belt buckle and showed a roll of flab. A greasy mullet peeked out from under the trucker's cap. Shit, Chuck thought to himself. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea. The trucker lit a half-smoked cigar. "My name is Pete. If you want one too, there's one in the compartment right in front of you. Chuck shook his head, tensed his biceps and said, "Chuck! Thanks for the ride. And I don't smoke. I'm an athlete." Pete stretched out his right arm and felt Chuck's biceps. "Hm, feels good. It'd be a shame if you stopped working out." He blew a puff of smoke in Chuck's direction. And his hand moved towards Chuck's chest. "Wait, wait," Chuck moved to the right in a sit. "No homo, dude. I only fuck pussy." The driver just glanced briefly in Chuck's direction and smiled. His teeth were nicotine yellow. "I don't care what YOU fuck." He blew another puff of smoke in Chuck's direction, pulled his hand back and began kneading the bulge in his crotch. "Thanks for the ride, I think I'd better get off now." Another puff of smoke. Chuck went dizzy. "Comrade, the next stop isn't for another six hours. We have a schedule to meet." Chuck tried to keep a clear head. But the smoke was making him tired. His head felt like it was full of absorbent cotton. "All right, Pete," he mumbled. And fell asleep.

It was dark outside when Pete shook him by the shoulder. "Get up, sleepyhead. We'll take a break in fifteen minutes and then change drivers. Chuck yawned and stretched. Driver change? What was Pete talking about? And more important now was his latte. South of his big belt buckle, Chuck made a big tent in his pants. Of course Pete had noticed it long ago. He had long since taken his puny boner out of his pants and was wanking it. As a passenger, you had your duties. And it was still a quarter of an hour's drive. It wasn't the first time Chuck had blown someone in a driver's cab. Driver's cabs, filthy toilets in truck stops, broom closets in cheap diners. He could manage anywhere. How long had he been driving aimlessly on the highways now? Two years? Got there. You had to take what you could get. And Pete was actually out of his league. But he took him a good part of the way. Gratitude was a must.

Chuck walked a little wide-legged towards the restrooms at the service station. Pete must have cum. Chuck hadn't yet. They wouldn't be driving on for another hour at the earliest. It was going to be hell if he didn't find someone to fuck by then. In the light of a lantern, he leaned against the wall, his erection still clearly visible. He took a cigar from his leather vest, lit it and waited. Almost five minutes. Then a greasy business traveler in a cheap suit walked past him. A look that lasted a little too long. A grab in the crotch. A mumbled "20 without a rubber?". And everything was clear. It had been a few days since Chuck had showered, but the guy was still greedily going down on Chuck's greasy, cheesy cock. Premium beef. Yes, that described his cock very well. And this premium beef had just been sucked clean for 20 dollars. And then Chuck sank it into the guy's ass.

Chuck couldn't understand guys like Pete. When you were out on the street, you had to take care of your body. Okay, Chuck more than others, his body was his asset after all. But while Chuck shoveled in lots of chips and a big burger and drank three pitchers of beer, Chuck ate his steak and salad, drank water and used the last few minutes before leaving to do a few pull-ups and push-ups at the fitness station behind the toilets. A few other long-distance drivers loitered around him. If they hadn't had to drive on, Chuck could certainly have earned a few more dollars. But as it was, he climbed into the driver's seat. If he hadn't had to drive, he would certainly have had a few beers. As it was, another cigar would have to do. Pete snored in the back of his bunk. Chuck turned the radio up a little louder to stay awake. And he steered the truck south through the night.

At the next break and before the driver change, Chuck was able to earn a few more dollars. There were many truck stops where he was known as a colorful dog. When you heard his heavy footsteps and the creaking of the leather, it was like a bell on a Pavlovian dog. Chuck had been traveling the country for many years. A mixture of hustler, temporary trucker and casual laborer. He had flunked out of college at some point. Stupid thing to do. He'd had a thing with a woman once. And she'd claimed he'd raped her. That taught him a lesson, since then he only fucked men. They appreciated his mouth, his ass and his cock. And paid well.

Somewhere in New Mexico, Pete threw Chuck out of the truck. He had to be out of the cab before the finish line. Pete would be in big trouble if it came out that he had let someone else drive the truck. He thanked Chuck with a masterful blowjob and a box of Cuban cigars. They would probably never see each other again. The country was big… Chuck rarely got in the same truck twice.

Chuck loved the feeling of the sun on his body. He was able to use the stop for an extensive open-air workout, a good meal, two lucrative fucks and even a shower. Now let's see where he was going. He stood by the road. It wasn't five minutes before a car stopped and the driver asked him if he could give him a lift. Chuck only asked if he could smoke in the car. Only if he didn't just put the cigar in his mouth, was the answer. Chuck got in the car. On the road again!

Pics by @ki-kink

[dotster001]

Quiet End

A/N: Your first non canon, custom content end is here! I've tagged everyone from the of tag list, and everyone who voted for this particular end. If you wanna add your vote for the next one, you can do so in the comments here.

Chapters: Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another ending

You have to do this! It's all you've been talking about for a week!"

"I just can't!"

Idia was all dressed in a suit and bow tie, but stubbornly standing outside the door to the restaurant. Ortho gave him a pleading look.

"Idia! Come on! Pull it together! You'll always regret it if you don't go in there!"

As Idia was about to send out another string of curses, when an angry Grim, wearing a bow tie, and holding a clipboard, slammed open the door and stomped over to Idia.

"Shroud, pull yourself together or, I swear to the seven, Ashengrotto and I will have a reconciliation, and you'll never have another chance with Y/N!"

With that shout out of his system, he stormed back into the restaurant, probably to try and tell the band and you that "your date" was still coming.

Idia was still frozen, but now it wasn't just out of social anxiety, it was the anxiety that if he blew tonight, he blew any chance of future nights with you.

"Okay, that's it," Ortho said, pushing Idia.

"No…"Idia said through gritted teeth.

"Initiating thrusters," Ortho said, and Idia heard the thrusters kick in, and felt Ortho's pushing get significantly stronger.

"No, no no!"

Once Ortho had pushed him through the door, he let him go, and escaped back out, leaving Idia to make eye contact with you and the band. A smile bloomed across your face, and you waved at him.

Idia took a steadying breath, and robotically walked over to your table, taking a seat.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

"It's totally fine! I'm just happy that you're my date. The last date Grim set me up on was with Azul, and, well, I'm sure you heard how that went."

Idia nodded. The entirety of NRC had heard the story of how Grim had been roped into a contract with Azul, so that Azul could date you. Only a select few knew the truth, though.  Azul had begun construction on a second branch, which meant his income was slightly lower this quarter. And Grim wasn't that good at business math. Which meant Idia was in.

"You're happy it's me?" He asked, unable to hold eye contact with you.

"I mean, yeah. Of course I'm happy it's you! I like you. Quite a lot," you grinned, and his hair turned a deep red as he buried himself in his hoodie like a turtle.

As if the moment couldn't get anymore overwhelming, you looked over your shoulder at Grim, who was yelling at the singer in the band, and then leaned in enough that he could deeply inhale your scent.

"Wanna get outta here?"

….

The two of you were quietly walking along campus. Neither of you spoke, but neither of you needed too. It was a comfortable silence.

At length, Idia muttered," I quite like you, too."

You looked startled, but then smiled happily.

"I'm so happy, Idia. Thank you."

"Why? I'm just a loser otaku, with freaky blue hair…"

"Sevens, Idia! You're sweet, you're smart, you're funny, and despite how you feel, you're quite hot. Like that jawline could cut glass, dude."

He looked at you, not convinced.

"My god, I have to do everything around here," you said with a groan, before grabbing his face and kissing him.

His eyes widened in shock, but as he watched, you seemed to be enjoying the kiss. So he closed his eyes, and just took you in, letting the moment be.

"Y/N! Shroud!" 

You separated, and he couldn't stop himself from chasing your lips, until he realized that the angry sound was Grim.

"Both of you skipped out on your rather expensive date, so I just had to pay the bill. I expect rapid reimbursement."

You raised an eyebrow at Grim, then rolled your eyes.

"Whatever, Grimmy. Your money comes from me anyway."

"Don't sass me! This has been a rather stressful evening! We're going home, and neither of you gets to see each other until you've learned your lesson."

He stormed off, and you made to follow, but not before leaning in to Idia and whispering, "Let's do this in your room next time."

His heart was so full as he watched you leave, a dreamy sigh on his lips.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @i-like-forgs @astral-ami @homestuckotaku

[elsweetheart]

Can I request something? You see, my friends tell me that I tend to flirt without even noticing. And I've noticed I indeed do that. I look people in the eyes and then look at their lips, I lick my own lips while doing that. I also tend to say softs "hmmm" "uhuum" to show them I'm paying attention. But I don't do that with that intention, because when I WANT to flirt, I'm a mess. Can you do Ellie or Abby (you choose) having a crush/dating someone who does that?

omg !!! me !!!!!!! i love this yes yes yea

im gonna do this w ellie because there’s not much to say about abby other than she will simply just bend you over and -

good view

🎀 short drabble in a hc format ?? idk wht this is. pre-relationship ellie x reader :)

• you were kinda out of it. didn’t get much sleep, and the weather was just warm enough to wear a tank top but a breeze still passed through the abandoned building you were all currently held up in, so you were fiddling with the thin cardigan you wore, pulling them over your hands. it put you in a relaxed, sleepy, slow mood.

• you and ellie weren’t together yet, so of course at any given opportunity when she sees you sitting alone she’d make conversation. she slid a chair over to where you were sat alone at a small table, straddling it backwards resting her arms on the back of the chair.

�� “did you call dibs on a room? there’s not much choice, i mean they’re all pretty shitty.” she smirked light heartedly as you turned to face her.

• “yeah, picked the one with the good view.” you smiled hazily having being broken from your thoughts and your sleepy daydreams. you were blinking slowly, ellie always thought your eyelashes looked extra pretty when you did that.

• “nice, my window faces a brick wall.” she comment with an eye roll and you giggled which made her features noticeably perk up when she saw the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip mid giggle to stifle it. she tried not to stare, launching into a story about the time her and Joel passed through a fancy abandoned building and she called dibs on the fancy penthouse bedroom and made Joel sleep in the maid quarters.

• you were listening intently, at first, but you were tired and her features were just so distracting. not even because of your huge crush on her, she just was… interesting. your eyes dragged down to her bottom lip where she had acquired a fresh cut from some kind of scuffle she’d wound up in and watched the way it moved with her mouth as she spoke. “mhm.” you breathed lightly to let her know you were still sort of listening.

• she felt her heart in her throat as she watched your fluttery eyes stare at her lips and completely stumbled over what she was going to say. “it was funny because he was— um… it was funny because fucking—uh…” she lost track of what she was trying to say and this caused you to casually glance back up at her eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly in confusion making them look extra big and doe like which did not her help case.

• “wh’s wrong?” you spoke so softly she could barely hear it over the blood thumping in her ears when she realised she was blushing. what made it worse, is she watched you in real time notice her blushing too, your pretty eyes gliding across her face. “c’mon dude.” she laughed, sitting back away from where she was leaning on the chair to wipe her hands down her face.

• “i’m so confused.” you giggled back and she chuckled, fiddling with the chipped wooden table corner for a moment before looking back up at you with a little more determination.

• “can i finish my story please? without you eyeballing me like that?” her tone was jokey, slightly putting on a voice but you could tell she meant it. you sat back a little, tilting your head to the side like a confused puppy. “and like that.” she laughed before flickering her own eyes to your mouth. “s’distracting.” was all she needed to say and you sort of caught on and raised your eyebrows a little.

• “oh…” you willed her to speak more with her stare, so she did. “you’re pretty. drives me crazy, just a little bit.” she scrunched her nose and you smiled, letting it drop slightly as you held her stare. she cleared her throat, feeling overwhelmed. “anyway, as i was saying before you rudely interrupted with your face.” she continued which made you laugh. perhaps you needed to be more mindful about how you looked at people, however you did enjoy teasing ellie.

[seat-safety-switch]

"Are you going to finish that?" I ask the person next to me, and then immediately start tucking into their LSG Sky Chefs Catering® ready-to-serve meal. Today, it's beef bourguignon, because while the entire history of capitalist achievement has conspired to prevent me from sitting in first class, it didn't keep the guy who used to occupy this seat from getting up and using the bathroom. And so, here I am.

We make small talk, which is the usual reaction that regular people have when they're trapped with me. Not just in airplanes, of course. Any enclosed space. Elevators. Cable-cars. Ski hill gondolas. And someday, Mord willing, escape pods from an ill-equipped, lowest-bidder orbital space station. They tell me that they are a corporate liability lawyer, all about those class actions. I would respond, but I am too busy plowing through some lukewarm potato-like mash.

It's strange how in our society, it's your job that defines you. Oh, I'm a teacher. I'm an astronaut. I'm a lumberjack. Without this pretext, nobody else has any way to relate to you. It's understandable to a certain extent. Your innermost soul is often unknowable even to yourself, much less to some rando in the 35 minutes left before this baby lands at Newark. What would I even tell this guy, that I'm a degenerate who builds poorly considered nightmare machines and turns them loose on a populace too afraid to stop me?

Luckily for me, I don't have to answer. I see that the dude who is supposed to be sitting in this seat is returning from his trip to the gender-neutral Boeing-manufactured toilet. For a moment, I wonder if the first-class shitter is nicer than the one we have back in coach, but I slip out quickly before he can become irate.

As I pass my temporary seat-donor in the aisle, I whisper into his ear: the law-talking dude sitting next to you fucking knows what you did last quarter. Tell him nothing. I hear a short gasp, but I am already halfway through business class before he can turn in the tight space and ask me more questions.

No liability lawyer is going to get a free case out of me, not if he eats the peach cobbler first and leaves me with the wrinkled freeze-dried arugula. That's just rude.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvoktober Day 23: 'Resolutions' Au. [Patreon | Commissions] -Mountain Goats Love Love Love Starts Playing-

Ok. So. In this au Tuvok doesn't go against Janeway's orders and refuses to contact the Vidiians and he and Harry Kim go on to have a long and incredibly tense Captain-First Officer dynamic where Harry grows to actively hate him and is working against him whenever it won't put the rest of the crew in danger. Constantly looking for ways to save the Captain and Chakotay. Constantly keeping everyone on the verge of mutiny: Can you believe he's just wearing the captain's uniform now? She was his closest friend but I guess that didn't mean anything to him. He never liked Chakotay in the first place, why would he think it's important to go back for a Maquis, right? Tuvok doesn't seem good at managing groups of different people if they aren't already primed and willing to listen to him. He also has outstanding bad blood with the Maquis that he canonically never really addresses and I don't think he's capable of addressing it in a way that isn't essentially "I did my job, please put it behind us and do yours." (He isn't good at intentionally winning people over) This when compared to Harry Kim's charisma, passion, and the ease at which he makes friends is a disaster when it comes to morale and public opinion. At a certain point it becomes no longer 'we should go back for the captain' but more 'Tuvok shouldn't be captain.' Harry doesn't really WANT to be captain - his goal is saving Janeway & Chakotay, but if Tuvok isn't going to do it then he doesn't want Tuvok to be in charge. At a certain point, some people also start feeling bad for Tuvok because he's clearly not doing well. He keeps Harry Kim as his first officer despite Harry becoming increasingly insubordinate (there was a long stretch where he pretended to comply and be content while working behind the scenes but that's over now) because, as it turns out, Janeway wanted him to be her successor in the event that she died of old age. It was written in a will she gave Tuvok and now it seems that Tuvok will keep him by his side even though Harry's ready to feed him to the wolves. Maybe he deserves it. Tom asks Tuvok why he's so resistant to giving up his captain's seat (after going to his ready room and getting into an argument with him bc he's like "Look dude, Harry's got almost everyone's support. There's GONNA be a mutiny if you don't step down.") and Tuvok says simply that the captain- Janeway, appointed him Captain and gave them their orders. He will follow them. "To what, your dying breath? That's not very logical is it?" He will follow them, lieutenant. That is all. Dismissed. Eventually there is a mutiny and Harry tries to force Tuvok to step down as captain voluntarily. Tuvok refuses. Harry, frustrated and grief-stricken to the point of near madness at this point, points a phaser at him. They're staring into each other's eyes and Tuvok still refuses and Harry realizes that he can see that wild, broken glint in his own eyes reflected in Tuvok's. They're both so far past the tipping point. Unreasonable. So laden with sorrow and horror and hanging on to the past with both hands bloody so they won't have to face how bad things have gotten, how far gone everything they cared about is in both directions. Harry lowers his phaser and turns away. Tells the mutineers to confine Tuvok to quarters but NOT to hurt him. They're going back. "Aye, captain." Someone says and Harry turns to them, angry and confused. "I'm NOT the captain!" he shouts then looks out at the view screen as Tom turns the ship around, shaking his head. Harry...Harry...what've you done? "We're going to save the captain," Harry insists, gripping the arm of the captain's chair to keep himself steady without sitting in it. "We're going to save them both."

[artificial-transmutations]

Two sides of the same coin - Buddies

"Yoooo Pete!", Tom shouted across the whole gym floor. He had just spotted his workout partner and waved.

"Hey! What's up?", Peter called back from where he was working out.

Tom walked towards him, wearing only his red gym shorts, showing off his toned body. Both of them would qualify for the dictionary entry of "jock": Both were young men in their twenties who met over their obsession with working out, drinking and picking up girls. Tom was the larger one of them both and had medium length blonde dyed hair, while Peter was half a head shorter and not quite as bulky as Tom. Still, both of them had definitely bodies that turned a lot of heads - and they knew that well.

"Are you doing anything later?", Tom asked the other jock after they had said hello with a short hug. Emphasis was on short, of course, since neither of them wanted to come across as gay.

"I don't think so," replied Peter. "Why?"

"Care for a post-workout beer?" suggested Tom.

"Sure." Peter responded, "But we will have to earn that first!"

"Yeah, let's go work out some more then," agreed Tom enthusiastically.

The workout was long and intense, with Tom and Peter spotting for each other in tandem. Back in the locker room, as Peter was waiting for Tom to finish his shower - the gym showers were pretty small and there was a mutual understanding between them that they would absolutely not shower together, that was gay shit - he spotted something on the floor under a bench. Curious, he bent down and picked it up: It was an old coin that looked like a silver dollar or maybe even a quarter.

"Nice", he said to himself and pocketed the coin, not realizing it vanished once he put it in his pocket. Tom finished his shower quickly afterwards and they both headed for Tom's apartment. It was close to the gym and a good place to enjoy a beer.

As usual, when they entered the apartment, it was sparkly clean. Both buddies were neat-freaks, and it was way easier to bring home girls that way. Peter flopped down on the designer couch and looked expectantly at Tom. "You mentioned beer?"

"Yeah, sure," Tom answered, going into the kitchen and opening the fridge door. He pulled out two bottles of cold beer and handed one bottle to Peter. "Cheers!" They clinked their bottles and took a sip.

Peter liked this kind of beer very much: It wasn't too bitter but still full of flavor. "So how are things with your new neighbor?", he made casual conversation. "The hot one", he added for not-needed clarification.

Tom smiled. "She's nice," he said, taking another swig of his beer. "Aaand really hot. Did I mention she left her door open while changing last week when I came home? She didn't seem to care if anyone saw..."

"Wow!", exclaimed Peter in disbelief. "And you're telling me you haven't fucked her yet?"

"Well, no... But I'm planning to." He took another sip of his beer before going on: "I mean, have you looked at her boobs? Just the right size!"

Peter had felt horny since they exited the gym, and his buddies graphic description didn't make things better. He tried to casually readjust himself to hide his boner. "They're nice, yeah. But what about the ass?" He asked curiously.

Tom nodded, thinking about her tight little bubble butt. "Yeah, she has a great booty. And she's got a killer rack, too."

God, Peters cock was throbbing. What was wrong? A little dirty talk didn't usually excite him so much. He reached down to his groin to readjust himself again, shivering slightly as he touched his cock through his shorts. His friends' comments made him feel strangely aroused, almost as if he would get a hardon just from looking at her.

"What is it with you today?", Tom finally asked, noticing the change in his friend's demeanor before suddenly laughing. "Are you having a boner, dude?"

"Yeah," admitted Peter, feeling embarrassed by the sudden realization of his erection. "It's your fault, talking about that hot babe."

"So, you're saying", continued Tom, laughing, "I am giving you a stiff one? No homo, man!"

Peter laughed nervously and looked away, trying to hide his hard-on. "Shut up, dude!"

But it was no use. His cock was harder than it ever was, and it was aching to be touched. He looked at Tom. They didn't have that kind of relationship, but he *needed* to touch himself now. Excusing himself to the bathroom would be even more embarrassing. So, he just fished out his leaking rod out of his shorts and mumbled "God, sorry, I hope you don't mind." as he slowly began to stroke himself.

"Dude! What the fuck!? Are you jerking off?! Do that at home!" Tom shouted, shocked by what he saw. He couldn't believe his best friend was doing that in front of him. He wanted to say more, but there was something else catching his eye: On the right arm that Peter was using to jerk his cock, he could see some hair growing in. Just a light coating, but clearly visible. Usually, Peter was well groomed, just like himself. His left arm followed suit.

"Dude! You're getting hairy!" Tom exclaimed, even though that adjective was really far from true yet. Peter looked down on the arm Tom pointed at, without stopping his slow jerking. Tom was right, this coating of hair hadn't been there before. As he looked to his legs, he could see the same thing happening there. For some perverse reason, this only served to make him even more horny. He moaned, as another spurt of precum wetted his hand.

"Dude, are you okay? Why are you fucking jerking yourself off in front of me?" Tom asked concernedly. He felt bad for his friend who seemed to be getting turned on by his own body changes. A small diamond patch of dark hair had now appeared on his friends chest and he could see small bushes of hair growing in under his armpits. That was when Tom smelled it. The manly smell of musk and sweat, coming from Peter. His armpits were damp from sweat, as this new smell only turned him on even more.

"Oh God Tom, I'm so sorry, but... I... You...", With a defeated grunt, Peter grabbed his buddies head with his right hand and forced it between his legs, and over his cock.

At first, Tom was surprised, before he tried to resist. It was no use, however. Even though Tom was supposed the stronger one of them both, Peter had his hand firmly at the back of Toms head and pressed him into his groin. Peters cock, which was slick with pre rubbed against his mouth which he kept closed at all costs.

"Come on!" Peter whined, increasing the force even more. "I need someone to suck me off here."

"I'm not..." Tom began to answer, only to recognize his mistake right after. As he opened his mouth to answer, Peters cock was pushed inside. He could taste the salty flavor of Peter's precum on it and almost gagged. He wanted to byte, but somehow didn't find the strength for it. He let out a soft involuntary moan instead as Peter's cock slipped deeper into his throat until it hit his tonsils.

Meanwhile, Peter noticed a visible trail of black hair running across his previously hairless cobblestone abs. He felt really bad basically face-fucking his workout buddy, but he just couldn't restrain himself. He *needed* to bob his bros head up and down his cock with his strong paw. As more and more hair grew in on his belly, he felt his body filling up more and more. His muscles were joined by a substantial layer of fat, giving him a burlier look by the second. At the same time, his smell intensified further, filling up Toms apartment.

Meanwhile, Tom was undergoing a change of his own. Every passing second, he felt weaker and weaker, his body visibly shrinking in on itself. It didn't help that his nostrils were simultaneously attacked by the increasingly intense stink of Peter and his large pubic bush that was growing in either. He was being used, and he hated every second of it, but found himself powerless to do anything about it.

Where Peters stink reached the apartment, it began to change, subtly at first, then increasingly fast: The designer couch became a cheap red leather sofa. In the kitchen, dirty pans and plates were piling up, a patina of dust and grime covered the surfaces. It looked like a wardrobe exploded over the room, as dirty laundry scattered over the floor, adding to the stale and stinky air with the same aroma that Peter was emitting full force now. If anything, this only served to excite him more. While his left hand went through his beard and his dense pelt of body hair, he grabbed more and more of Toms shrinking body with his right hand and pressed it into his groin, not caring that it changed into a wooly cloth like material that had seen much, much better days already. It was ripped and ragged, stained by numerous stains of various sources. Mainly, of course, cum, but also pre, sweat and even the occasional bit of piss that had leaked into Toms fabric body.

The cum rag that was once Tom was fully aware of everything happening to it. It could still taste and smell, all across its filthy fabric body, and was forced to absorb another huge load of cum that Peter shot into it, even though it was still damp from the previous one.

Panting, Peter threw the used cum rag onto a pile of clothing on the floor. He didn't care that his hairy body was crusty with dried up cum or that he stank like a cave man. Taking a shower was not a concept the new Peter needed, he was a real man after all.

If you're a fan of the theme, check out my other two sides of the same coin stories!

[caffeinated-and-annoying-bard]

Dude I am going thru a sixteenth-life crisis (smaller than quarter-life crisis) right now I do not know what to do. I’ve FINALLY figured out after much deliberation that i have the fattest crush (dangerously close to love) on my good friend (we met almost a year ago and have been inseparable since [this is a vast improvement for me considering that i had known my ex for all of two and a half weeks before we got together for the first time]) but i have no clue if she’s into me like that at all (shes bi so im not worried about if shes into girls or not). We have a super close and affectionate friendship because we’re both just like that and im a super tactile and physically affectionate person with my friends, so we’re always holding hands or sitting pressed up against each other or hugging or leaning on each other or whatever. AND we use pet names for each other (just pookie and honey) but like in a half serious half joking way yk. AND when i spent the night at her house we fell asleep in her bed cuddling and we were so close and i dont know if im reading too much into it or not AND we went with a couples costume of Fred Casely and Roxie Hart from Chicago to the harvest dance at my school AND people tell us all the time that we have to be a couple or that we need to start dating immediately but she doesn’t really like those jokes bcs of how prevalent they are with us. Please help i am so confused.

Alright alright alright first rule of the crisis: do not panic (it's a bit of an oxymoron, but HEAR ME OUT) your body feels like it's being chased by a tiger. It is not being chased by a tiger. Make sure it gets the memo, because you need it up and working for Smart Decision Making and when you panic the logic part of your brain shuts down COMPLETELY (for optimising faster, running-from-tiger decision making)

Breathe in, breathe out. The tiger is not here in the room. I know the thought of making a friendship awkward (I don't even count losing a friendship for your case, seems pretty much impossible at the point) it's very, really, truly, genuinely, honestly, and all of the y words for "a lot"; fucking scary. But she isn't going to bite your head off, so think with the brain, not with the adrenaline pumps, alright??⁉️⁉️⁉️?? [shaking you by the shoulders] EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT. HIGHSCHOOL CRUSHES ARE VERY IMPORTANT BUT ALSO VERY DUMB SO,IF IT TRULY MATTERS TO YOU: KEEP THE "IT'S YOUNG LOVE AND VERY DUMB. THAT'S WHY I CAN AFFORD ENJOYING IT AND LOVING NOW" QUOTE IN MIND !!!!!! ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

🌄i'll be using colours and emojis so it's easier to keep track of the text because this'll be a long message and I know the brain hates those.

Now, I'm not exactly the romance Cassandra (although I've felt like it for almost 2 years now, with the romantic problems my friend Abril manages to collect (like pokèmon) and whatnot), i'm one of the "feels lonely even wi5h friends"-est guy you'll meet, and remember i'm the guy who hasn't told his best friend of 6 years he capital-l- Loved him for almost half of it. But it's way easier to think about solutions when you're not involved, so I'll do my best to give decent advice ‼️‼️‼️💥:

1. Starting from the bottom: (‼️‼️it COULD be just wishful thinking, be warned, but keep in mind that i'd also be uncomfortable and ashamed if my friends kept making shipping jokes about me and my close-friend-whom-i-do-indeed-dig-a-bit, (talking from experience) for a number of reasons, up but not limited to: "what if they don't like me and they find out i like them through this and everything goes to hell", "I don't like Feeling Exposed", the classic "it's none of their business to meddle in my relationships", and "it makes me feel objectified, like a character being shipped for the enjoyment of others" so i wouldn't take her feelings about the shipping jokes for a rotund no

2. I'd recommend to evaluate: YOU are a very physically affectionate person with all of your friends (moreso with her, but that's not relevant to the scientific method), but is she?? Does she hug and hold hands and use petnames and shit with other friends of hers? (please take into the equation people with whom she has been friends for as long as you, to be more precise) please come back to the classroom to share your results. I am positive she's also very touchy-feely with YOU, from what you've said,but does she ever initiate it with other people?

My usual method is "write everything down in a scientific table like a madman and make a spreadsheet at 2am" but i wouldn't recommend it unless you genuinely have no idea.

3. Good and heavenly Mary are all wlw this oblivious????????? (joking, it's just that YOU GUYS WENT AS THE MURDERER-AND-MURDERED COUPLE TO A DANCE).

4. I do not think it's a lost cause. Worst case scenario, she's in denial and/or very oblivious.

If you want to find out, I recommend to gradually level up the flirting WHENEVER YOUR FRIENDS AREN'T AROUND BECAUSE THAT'LL MAKE HER FEEL EXPOSED OR WORSE, THE LAUGHING STOCK

Maybe start with small gifts? Paper cranes and plausible deniability are my favourite pick but you know her and I don't, so go on, tiger skeleton‼️‼️it will drag on a bit but after she becomes used to it you can start making paper rings and hearts or something. WRITE DOWN EVERYTHING YOU NOTICE

If your experiments start giving positive results, and if any of you is good at makeup, ask her to do yours/ask to do hers and sit very closely until she starts to see the inherent romanticism of being a canvas/making of you friend's face a canvas

I am not joking the tension is insufferable even when you don't like-like the person doing your makeup i can promise that much‼️‼️

If none of this gives results, I recommend the Víctor Muñoz (your obedient servant)method: pining until you die🤝🤝👍‼️‼️💥💥🗣️🎉

Nah, more seriously: I do believe you have a strong shot, and wish you the best of lucks! Don't panic, she won't hurt you! Just evaluate, write down, science. Science it up until you have a girlfriend.

Loser out,

Val

[sweethoneyrose83]

90s-inspired dialogue prompts

"Dude, did you hear? The new Nirvana album just dropped. We have to hit the record store before it sells out!"

"I swear, if I don’t beat this level in Mario, I’m throwing the controller across the room!"

"You've got mail! Wait, hold on, my dial-up is still connecting."

"Why would you spend $50 on a pager? Just call me on my landline, duh!"

"Have you seen the new episode of Friends? I need to talk about Ross and Rachel!"

"I'm telling you, AOL chat rooms are where it's at. You can meet people from anywhere!"

"Whatever. As if! Like I’m gonna wear that to the mall."

"Let’s meet up at Blockbuster later. I’m thinking about renting Clueless again."

"I just recorded that new song off the radio onto my mixtape. It's going to be on repeat all day."

"Mom said we could use the car, but we have to rewind the VHS before we return it!"

"No way. I heard they're working on something called a DVD. I don't get it. Why change VHS?"

"The Tamagotchi is dying again. I don't know how many times I can save this thing."

"I just got my first Walkman. CDs sound so much better than cassettes!"

"We should totally prank call that radio station and request Backstreet Boys for the hundredth time."

"Okay, I got a quarter—I'm gonna use the payphone and see if anyone wants to hang out."

"I'm recording TRL later. I can't miss that new Britney Spears music video."

"What do you mean you don’t have a MySpace account? It’s, like, the thing right now."

"If my parents pick up the phone while I’m online, it’s going to cut me off. Don’t call the house!"

"I just burned you a CD with all the best songs from the radio. You’re going to love it!"

"If this Y2K thing actually messes up our computers, I’m never trusting technology again."

"Dude, you won’t believe what I just found at Blockbuster!"

"No way! Did they finally get 'The Matrix' in stock?"

"Why do you always hog the phone line? I’ve been waiting for my AOL dial-up for like, forever!"

"Chill out, I’m trying to finish this important call on my pager."

"Man, you’re dressed like you just walked out of a Nirvana concert."

"It’s called grunge, bro. You wouldn’t understand."

"I’m telling you, Tamagotchis are like, the future."

"Yeah, if the future is taking care of a digital pet all day."

"I just taped the season finale of ‘Friends,’ wanna come over and watch it?"

"As long as there’s pizza, I’m in. Could I be any more excited?"

"My Tamagotchi just died because I was too busy playing with my new Game Boy Color!"

"You need to get your priorities straight."

"Can you believe they canceled 'Saved by the Bell'? Zack and Kelly forever, man."

"Yeah, but the new season of 'Fresh Prince' is all that."

"I just bought a stack of CDs, now my Discman’s set for the road trip."

"As long as you don’t hit a bump and make it skip!"

"I got an email from this girl I met in a chatroom last night."

"Email? You should’ve just asked for her AIM screen name."

"I heard they're coming out with something called a DVD next year."

"Pfft, like that’ll replace my VHS collection."

At the Mall:

Character 1: "Dude, if we don’t get to the food court soon, I’m gonna pass out. I need a slice of Sbarro pizza, stat!"

Character 2: "Chill, we'll get there. But first, I’m grabbing this Nirvana shirt—Kurt would want me to have it."

Dial-Up Drama:

Character 1: "I was this close to beating my high score on Pac-Man, and then someone picked up the phone and killed the connection!"

Character 2: "Ugh, the struggle is real. Why do we even have one line for the internet and the phone?"

Movie Night:

Character 1: "Blockbuster was out of Jurassic Park again! I had to settle for Space Jam."

Character 2: "As if that’s a problem! Michael Jordan and Looney Tunes? That’s a classic, man!"

Mixtape Meltdown:

Character 1: "I made you this mixtape—front to back, all the jams you love."

Character 2: "Wait, you recorded over my TLC album? You’re gonna be scrubs to me forever!"

School Day Crush:

Character 1: "He passed me a note in history class! I swear, it's love."

Character 2: "Let me see that… it just says 'Wanna hang at the arcade later?' So romantic…"

First Cell Phone:

Character 1: "Dude, check it out, I finally got a cell phone!"

Character 2: "That’s not a cell phone, it’s a brick! You gonna carry that in your backpack?"

The Internet:

Character 1: "I just spent an hour downloading one song on Napster. Totally worth it."

Character 2: "Better hope the FBI doesn’t show up at your door. They take that stuff seriously."

Fashion Emergency:

Character 1: "What’s up with the butterfly clips and platform shoes? Are you going for the full Spice Girls look?"

Character 2: "You say that like it’s a bad thing. Girl Power is forever."

After School TV:

Character 1: "Hurry up! Fresh Prince is on in like five minutes!"

Character 2: "Not until I’m done watching Sailor Moon, this episode’s a big deal!"

Computer Lab Chaos:

Character 1: "Why does this computer keep freezing? I’ve got to finish my PowerPoint for tomorrow."

Character 2: "You’re probably running too many programs. Close Oregon Trail before you get another 'Your ox has died' message."

[ram-bles]

Plsplspls daisuke and reader romance hcs and my soul is yours

gn/transmasc whichever you prefer thank you so much

daisuke x reader | headcanons

part 4:

Romance edition

pay up anon 🫴👈 /j no, bc I have notes about this already and I saw you pop up in my notifs.

⚠️: 🔞 gn pronouns and masc pronouns* used, fluff, nothing explicit but there is implied sex (don't worry, it's optional. I put it at the end so you can skip.)

*bonus transmasc!reader category

🌺 Mentioned in a previous post. You fall first, he falls harder. He doesn't even notice until later on when he's doing the most mundane task and he catches himself smiling - "Oh."- while thinking of you. "Shiiiit."

🌺 The D in Daisuke stands for dense. Dense, dense, dense. To be fair, you guys are close and everything you've done together was seen as platonic. Heavy on was.

"Are you really bros if you don't cuddle to sleep?"

🌺 C'mon. He'll treat this like a romance visual novel game and you are the main and only love interest. It makes him less nervous this way.

🌺 Daisuke - for the life of him - could not use endearments. It makes him cringe. Will most likely call you by nickname or dude/bro (gnc).

"Babe... Baby... Honey— PFFT-" "Daisuke." Last name mouthwashing. Followed by whatever his last name was. You gave him a warning tone. "I can't help it!" He stifles his laughter but it turns into a fit of giggles.

🌺 Best friends to lovers is a perfect trope with him. I feel like the confession will come in naturally. You become best friends, blur the lines of platonic and romantic without realizing it, and the next thing you know, you're dating.

🌺 Experience wise? He's had a few relationships in highschool. Doesn't even know if he considers it as a relationship if he were honest. More-so flings.

⚠️ Implied sex. Ignore if uncomfortable.

🌺 If I were to lean more on to his mature side, then maybe things got too intimate. No promises of what happens next, but surely, you'd both question it. Don't get me wrong though, definitely an each other's firsts situation still.

Your sports watch vibrates on the table side, its buzz louder against the surface it was on. Groggily, you sit up, stretching and flinching at how sore you were before orienting yourself, unconsciously tugging the blanket closer to you. The faint sound of the shower beside the shared room reminds you of the events last night and your brain felt like it was about to shortcircuit, thoughts silencing quickly as you hear the bathroom door open, making you snap your head back up and you felt like having another wire shorting in your brain at the sight, but you push it away for now. "Mornin'!" And he says your name so sweetly, enthusiastically. Your heart ached. "I didn't take too long right? Did you just wake up?" Your silence scared him, even more so when you hung your head low. He calls your name. "Did you not like last night? Ah, fuck- Is anything painful? I'm sorry. We don't have to do this again. I'm s—" "Daisuke?" "Y-Yeah? What's up? Seriously, you're worrying me, dude. Did I hurt you?" "What are we?"

[ Bonus: Transmasc!Reader ]

🌺 Seeing your binder for the first time?

You two were back at your shared quarters. The day had just ended and you just wanted to change into your sleepwear and crash. "Dude, that looks uncomfy. You sure it ain't too tight?" "Nah. I made sure it fit. I have looser ones just incase. Don't worry, Dai." You were about to remove it when you notice him staring. Before this, you've been changing in the bathroom already, and at times he'd just turn away when you tell him to. He only realizes when you haven't moved for awhile and he instantly flinches. "Oh, sorry- turning riiiight now!" "We're dating already... It's okay." Plus, totally normal to see dudes topless. He tilts his head curiously as he watches and it would be a lie if it didn't make you slightly conscious of your appearance, but you trust him. The smitten look he has makes you feel better. His eyes dart down to the small dents on your skin left by the band and his hand twitches. "Can I massage it?" "What? My tits?" He calls out your name in mock frustration before laughing. "Y'know what I mean!" "Yeah, yeah. Make some space on the bed then."

🌺 Probably would love pressing the marks away. Also, he gets to cling onto you while at it so win-win right?

🌺 Top scars?

"Duuuuuude. That's sick as fuck." His head was hanging by the edge of the bed, watching you change while upside down. "Hm?" "The scars. How'd you gettem? Don't look like it's from an accident." "... Surgery?" "Oh?" He stays quiet for a moment trying to piece two and two together. You wait for him with an amused expression. "OHHHHHH." Right, he didn't know. "Still sick as fuck though."

🌺 feeling dysphoric? he already treats you like a king, but hopefully you won't get too overwhelmed with his advances when he notices you feeling down.

"hey, handsome." "pretty boy!"

🌺 if he didn't know you were trans and you tell him, he'd be confused but in a way that's like, "I still love you, y'know. That ain't changin'!"

[ Updates: ]

🪓 i'm working on another ask at the moment and it involves a pilot intern!reader. they req afab!reader but it's difficult for me to write femmes and i usually go for gn or transmasc readers :(( I hope that's alright. I can try to make a separate post and do femme pronouns. What do you guys think?

it's going to be longer than my usual posts so it may take some time. so yeah! hopefully the anon who req it sees this.

That's all, thank you for reading!

[talas-first-lady]

Can we discuss how Evil Gideon was lying, though?

I was thinking today about how completely unrealistic the Astra runs for President prediction was and the more I think about it, a lot of the other predictions don't add up. I'm going to go through in the order they were in the episode.

(She may not have been purposefully lying but she definitely just showed them whatever Chat GPT popped out.)

Zari: Seems plausible on the surface, but I have some concerns.

Her award show dress is UGLY. The red color is pretty but the orangey overlay ruins it. The ruching is in the worst possible place and makes her look larger than she is right through the middle. The bottom is kind of wrinkled. And then she has really small, understated jewelry and her hair up, so there's nothing interesting at all going on in the shoulder/neck region. Zari dresses better than that.

She makes billions with her cosmetics company. Despite the fact that we have repeatedly been told throughout the show that she is terrible at selling cosmetics. Her lip kits don't even sell. Everybody has lips! Her perfume destroys people's sense of smell.

Audible lipstick. Not a thing anyone wants. Not a thing that makes any sense. Evil Gideon is making this stuff up. And yes, it's the future, but nothing we've seen of the 2040s on Legends really looks all that much more technologically advanced than what we have now.

EG fails to consider that Zari has grown as a person since whatever info she has in her files, which is the whole reason Zari is upset about the prediction. It's plausible that she would go back to her career as it was, but she cares about people now. She would absolutely be doing some sort of philanthropy.

She's so pretty. But also, I'm not 100% convinced that that even is a dress because it looks like they may have just shoved a piece of fabric at her and said "here, hold this under your arms."

Behrad:

Totally plausible that he could become famous, either for his talent or via his connections, but he has never wanted to be famous. You expect me to believe that the man who hid in bed to avoid imaginary TV cameras is going to purposefully go into a career of being on camera?

He can't account for his whereabouts for several years of his adult life. He is not passing a background check to become a children's performer.

His record is called "Grey Hound to the Moon." Which is great, except that both the bus company and the dog spell it Greyhound. One word.

Avalance:

Knowing what we know now about Sara's biology, this is plausible.

But I feel like they might run into some issues trying to sign their kid up for school when one of them is legally dead and the other was never legally born.

Do kids get to do video calls from camp these days? I don't know. I am old. I had to bring quarters to the designated calling home payphones at a predetermined time to talk to my parents.

Gwyn:

He knows too much. They can't send him back to the 1920s. All of the Legends are aberrations waiting to happen, but sending anyone to the past is a no-no.

If they are going to send him back, wouldn't it make more sense to send him back to New York? Since that's where he last was?

Nate:

He has to somehow convince someone to publish a book about how time travel is real. Nate Heywood. Who you may recall from that controversial fake documentary about time travel a few years back. He seems like a reliable source.

You don't grow a hideous beard over the Heywood jawline. You just don't.

His TV interview is totally bogus. Nate knows how to schmooze. He's not going to be all "I can't answer your simple question about what time travel feels like because you must first read all 500 pages of my book."

"I never said that out loud before but that is the title I picked out." Gideon can literally monitor your dreams, dude. I know that she's never personally kidnapped you and put you into a time loop, but she knows things.

Astra:

Remember how she couldn't find a job in season 6? Because she's legally dead and legally still a child? She also has no education, no work experience, and a grand total of like 6 people who can vouch for her existence. She is a mess. No idea if she's legally eligible to run.

And she definitely wouldn't win, given that all of the above would definitely come out. She also doesn't look her legal age (which barely makes her old enough to qualify), she's terrible at keeping her temper, and she's literally a witch.

Also, she runs in 2040. We know for a fact that Dwayne Johnson is the President in 2045. So at best, she gets 1 term.

That wig is preposterous.

Spooner:

Again, she definitely knows too much to go back to the 1920s.

Everyone is already suspicious of Gloria Cruz. You don't think they're going to have questions when her daughter goes missing and then some 20-something shows up out of nowhere?

They are not running an apothecary. They are getting burned at the stake.

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild Romance prompt: Buggy is a no show for the morning address at Cross Guild. Beyond annoyed thinking that he's overslept, Mihawk and Crocodile go to Buggy's living quarters. They barge in expecting a sleepy clown. Instead they stumble on a horror scene. Buggy is laying on the floor, beaten and raped, barely alive with a makeshift garotte around his neck. The sight will haunt Mihawk and Crocodile as long as they live as they rush Buggy to the hospital tent. Buggy survives but is deeply traumatized. Mihawk and Crocodile become his unofficial bodyguards, and then slowly become his loving partners/almost husbands. Even as they focus on helping Buggy recover, especially when he can't remember who hurt him, they are still hunting for whoever dared to hurt THEIR clown. Up to you who the perpetrator is, but Mihawk and Crocodile will find this individual and make them regret ever coming out of their mother's womb.

😱Holy stars above and beyond😱

Ummm, plot twist Buggy didn't get raped and most of the blood is that person here him. Buggy basically cat fighter the dude, while his "friends" left in fear.

I doubt Buggy wouldn't fight like a cage animal until the end. Why he's laying there is because he is exhausted from fighting. The clown already called the ports to close them down and get people paroling the beaches for anyone trying to get off the island.

Buggy would be shocked that Mihawk and Crocodile has walked into the mess of what's his space now. I see Buggy be like 'Oh pardon the mess, anyway-' for some reason. And Mihawk and Crocodile standing there in as much shock as their faces can do.

So they go and find the others, and it's a game of cats and mice. All the followers are cheering them on and getting out of the way. Hell maybe throwing things at those nasty assholes. Those peeps are unnamed because they don't deserve to have names

Now I'm thinking Crocodile and Mihawk might think Buggy is heavily hurt. When he's not, but it warms Buggy's heart and makes Buggy flustered.

Sorry this one came before the other two I have. I wanted to get this out first. Because I really don't like Rape fics at all and barely read them