#but i will try my best if it does happen!

[solo-walker]

I wrote the original post as a sleepy joke, but I love how much we're expanding on it!

You are so right for the Mr. Spider connection! I don't know the practicality of pyrotechnics, but hey, are we trying to be practical here? The basic goal remains the same: terrify the audience. Blur the line between stage and not-stage. From the very moment you sat down, you have been complicit in the crimes of the concepts you despise.

Pitch darkness for The Dark parts is just yes. Juxtapose it with the brightness of The Eye. And puppet Nikola? Amazing. Have her voice come from a wholly different area from where the puppet is positioned to emphasize creepiness.

(Fun fact: The last time I was part of a theatre production, we went waaayyyy overboard with the fog machine and accidentally set off the automatic smoke detection system, which promptly began to scream like a banshee and shut off all the lights and music.)

I want TMA to be made into a musical for just one reason:

The Jurgen Leitner rant as a Jon-Gerry duet.

[woso-dreamzzz]

If You Were My Little Girl II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up

Alexia watches from the stands.

They're mostly empty, like almost all Barcelona B matches.

Women's football has only really started picking up steam recently but only at the top flight. The lower level leagues are still having a bit of a popularity issue.

But Alexia, for once, finds that she doesn't mind.

Because it means she can sit practically alone in the stands as she watches the home match.

A notepad sits on her lap, a pen tapping against the pages thoughtfully as she watches.

Barcelona B are good and Alexia has never expected anything different. She's seen the system at work many times as La Masia churns out players like Aitana and Pina and Jana, and more recently Vicky and Martina.

There's a reason so many clubs wants La Masia products.

They're all good players but even now, Alexia can tell a great player when she sees one.

You rise up among the crowd in the box and slam the ball into the goal, the net rippling with the force of the shot.

The best part, Alexia thinks, is that you didn't even need a moment to control the ball, hitting it in on the volley and grinning as your teammates practically dogpile you.

A hattrick in ten minutes is impressive in any league and Alexia makes another note in her notebook, humming softly to herself.

She rises out of her seat at the end of the match, disappearing into the building and out the doors.

It takes another half an hour for you to appear again, hair damp and an old crew neck sweater that Alexia's pretty sure is Alba's being tugged over your head.

You slip into the passenger seat, throwing your bag into the backseat and Alexia pulls your head down to press a kiss against the side of it.

You smile shyly at her as she offers up the fries she'd bought for a job well done.

"You did good, kid," She says," Very impressive."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. But I think we're going to work on evading slide tackles next," Alexia says as she drives off," We're trying to keep those ankles of yours intact, alright? I'm going to need them this season."

You roll your eyes and Alexia clicks her tongue.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," She says," I've got a good feeling about that meeting later in the week. A great feeling, actually. You should have one too."

"I'm managing expectations."

Alexia looks at you fondly. "Well, we'll see which one of us is right in a few days."

She lets you choose the music in the car, like she always does when you've scored a goal and you pull up to the apartment a lot quicker than you want to seeing as you're in the middle of singing along to your favourite song but, still, you drag yourself out of the car and up the stairs.

"How was the match?" Olga asks as she greets Alexia with a kiss on the lips.

"She did very well," Alexia brags," A hattrick within the first ten minutes and another goal in injury time."

"Exciting," Olga says indulgently as Alexia grins, already giving her running commentary of everything that happened during the match.

You escape though, hurrying to raid the cupboards before Alexia finally comes to her senses and tries to stop you 'spoiling' your dinner.

You don't know if there's any way to thank Alexia for what she's done for you.

Just three months ago, you were convinced that you were going to quit. You had no passion for the game, no hope of what your future was going to be but now all of that had changed.

You had direction. You had a manager. You had new boots and a place to live that wasn't a group home and support and love and everything seemed to be coming together for you.

A toe pokes you in the leg.

"Move."

"Alexia says that if you're trying to nap on her sofa again then I don't have to move," You tell Alba, who huffs and pokes you with her toe again," She also says that you have your own apartment and should stop mooching of us."

"But Olga's a better cook than me," Alba complains and you roll your eyes.

"Aren't you an adult? Even I can cook."

"Yeah but it's not like you could mooch off your sist-"

Alba falls silent quickly and you pretend to not notice what she was going to say for both hers and your own sakes.

The topic of your sister is kind of off limits when you're in the room. It's not completely banned because Alexia's still Jenni's national teammate but she's not really spoken about if you're in the room.

Alba's face flashes with terror for a moment so you pretend you don't notice her slip up ever though it sends a bolt of lightning into your stomach, a deep pit forming there.

It works for the most part, everyone in the house pretending Jenni isn't who she is to you, pretending that she's just Alexia's teammate and not her friend and ex, pretending that Alexia fostering you isn't her walking on a tight rope because Jenni doesn't know.

All Jenni knows is that you didn't quit when she told you to.

Jenni doesn't know that you live with Alexia. Jenni doesn't know anything. You doubt she even thinks about you when she's got a life far away in Mexico.

She lives there, far away from you and your life here in Barcelona.

She lives there and her presence is hardly ever mentioned around you.

Life is good at Alexia and Olga's house. Life is even good at training, though you could do without the smug little smirk Alexia has on her face when she picks you up.

"You already knew!" You accuse her, waving a finger in her face.

"Knew?" She asks, lips curl up in what can only be described as pure smugness," Knew what?"

"Right, who told you? Go on. Who was it?"

Alexia grins. "You do realise I am the captain? Any time they're looking to bring someone in, they ask me my opinion."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah and I'm sure you gave it."

"You're a good player. A great player," Alexia says," All I did was tell them what they already know."

You look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. You want to be mad at her, to yell at her for keeping this from you. Maybe even yell at her for promising to the staff something you're not but you know she hasn't done that.

If she thought you weren't ready, she would have told them that.

But Alexia didn't. She didn't tell them to let you have a bit more time with the B team. She didn't tell them that you don't quite have what it takes.

"Thanks."

Alexia smiles at you as she drives home, a comfortable silence enveloping you both until your hand is on the door handle.

You stop.

"When I open this door, there's going to be a party, isn't there?"

"I may have told Olga...who told Mami...who told Alba...who told the rest of the family..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Possibly..."

"And there's no getting out of this?"

Alexia ruffles your hair, a soft kiss being pressed to the side of your head. "They're here to celebrate you."

You suck in a breath, just ready to turn the handle when the sound of the lift doors opening chimes down the corridor.

Both you and Alexia turn your heads towards.

It's just a fleeting second.

Just a moment.

But your good mood plummets as the door opens.

Alexia's hand tightens on your shoulder, pushing you slightly behind her and putting herself between you and the elevator.

Between you and Jenni.

[zephyrchama]

Consider: Barbatos opening portals to MC’s room in his sleep.

He can try and conceal his feelings all he wants during the daytime. Even the strongest demons can’t lie to themselves for long.

It began as quite the embarrassing predicament. You’d never seen Barbatos so flushed. You both exchanged puzzled expressions from opposite sides of a portal in the dead of night, dressed in sleepwear, too astonished for words. As suddenly as it appeared, the portal closed, leaving you to wonder if it was a dream.

Barbatos’ profuse apologies the next day proved that it wasn’t. You insisted it was okay, accidents happen, and begged him not to prostrate himself on the ground in front of you when he started to kneel. He vowed to make it up to you in some way. Any way within his power.

The second time it happened, he was angry. The two of you were startled awake at roughly the same time and the butler had to suppress a groan.

“It is most unbecoming of me to repeatedly invade your privacy in this way.” His eyes were narrowed with fury. He spoke through clenched teeth. These lapses in control really took a mental toll. “Disgraceful, even. Please excuse me.”

You wondered if this happened more than twice and Barbatos just covered it up. At times, he acted more protective of your dignity than anyone else.

“Glad to see you taking a break for once,” you joked, but the portal had already closed again. You stared at the space it once occupied until you fell back asleep.

The occurrences began ramping up. From once per month, to once per week, to every couple of days. As time passed, Barbatos’ disgruntled annoyance at himself turned into resigned acceptance. “I never took myself to be this kind of man,” he shamefully confided to you one day. “As you know, my restraint is typically excellent.” 

You peered at him over the pillows. It looked as though the two of you were laying next to each other despite being in different buildings. “Maybe you’re stressed? Have you been working too much?”

“I doubt that’s the case. I would gladly do more if it benefited the Young Master. But, ah... I’ve kept you up for too long, haven’t I?” Barbatos smiled your way. “Sweet dreams.”

With your nightly meetings becoming an almost everyday occurrence, there would be rare times Barbatos didn’t immediately wake up. In sleep, his magic was as strong as ever, if a smidge less coordinated. The portal frame would wobble or randomly change size. Sometimes it appeared above your pillow. Sometimes you wondered if it was stable enough to move through, to reach an arm over and pat Barbatos on the head. Though, in the end you always figured it was best to let sleeping demons lay.

Even if he does it to you when you’re asleep.

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Heels ~ Viktor x Reader

Pronouns for reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Platonic, romantic feelings, slight enemies to lovers if you unfocus your eyes a bit

General Idea: Viktor used to hate the sound of those damn boots of hers, but now he's grown to find an odd sense of comfort in the noise. Along with... a series of other feelings.

Content Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Viktor being sassy, s1 Viktor, Takes place between S1E3~E4, Viktor's kinda down bad but in a denial way, Viktor also isn't good at realizing he has feelings for the reader, Jayce needs a 32hr nap

A/N: My Viktor headcanons got a LOT more love than I thought they would... so I decided to write some more Viktor XD

(Nobody's POV, but it's mostly told. through Viktor's thoughts)

~☆~

The lab was pretty much silent. The only sounds heard were the sounds of Viktor tinkering with a Hextech device and the occasional flipping of pages as (Y/N) read some notes that Jayce had written. It was late, definetly past midnight as the two worked.

"(Y/N)," Viktor says, breaking the silence. The girl's head pops up at the sound of her name. "Come here for a second? I need a second pair of hands."

"Be right there." She says, finishing the page she was on. She stands up and walks towards him, the sound of her boots hitting the tile as she walks.

Clack

Click

Clack

Viktor used to hate the sound of her boots. "Those damn boots are so annoying," He had complained to Jayce during the first week of (Y/N) working as a part-time assistant. "Click clack click clack, drives me insane!" He had mocked before sighing.

"Viktor... don't both your boots AND your cane make that noise as well?"Jayce had responded, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. This made Viktor at a loss for words.

"Well... It's annoying when she does it!" He had sassed back in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

That was 3 years ago. Now, he found a weird sense of comfort in hearing the sound of her boots hit the floor. He couldn't explain why, enjoyment of familiarity maybe?

"What's up?" (Y/N) says, standing behind Viktor. The smell of her perfume was almost overwhelming to him, overloading his senses. Which was weird, seeings as it must've been almost 13 hours since she'd last applied perfume. And that doesn't last long... was he delusional? Or maybe just tired? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

"Yeah, I just need you to hold this in place." Viktor says, not even looking up from what he's doing. He gestures to a little piece of metal he's holding. (Y/N) leans over Viktor and holds the piece in place as requested. The scientist trys his best to ignore the feeling of her closeness and the racing of his heart... holy crap was it warm in here? It must've been. Although it seemed strange to him that it was magically warm in here all of a sudden. This spirals him into a memory, a memory that took place a little less than a week prior to now.

Viktor sat at his desk, for once not to work on Hextech, but to run his hands through his hair and stay deep in thought.

"Viktor?" Jayce asked. "Are you OK? You haven't been as focused as you normally are today. Did something happen?"

"I think... I think there's something genuinely wrong with me." Viktor says. "Like... maybe I'm coming down with something?? I don't know." Viktor stands up, leaning on his cane slightly for support.

"Oh?" Jayce asks, raising an eyebrow. "Could you, uh, possibly elaborate on that?"

"Well, for one everytime Ms.(L/N) comes near me I about have a damn heart attack." Viktor says, his cane clacking softly on the floor as he paces. "Like yesterday, perfect example. She accidently brushed my hand when she was passing me a paper and I actually thought I was dying."

Jayce suppresses a smile, trying not to laugh. Was Viktor really getting THIS worked up... over a little crush? "Oh?" Jayce says, still suppressing a smile. "Is that it?"

"Whenever she's near me, I swear to the gods that I become hyperaware of... like... everything." Viktor says. "Like the room feels warmer, her perfume or her shampoo is ALL I can smell, I'm almost convinced I know every single speckle of color in her eyes... I think I might actually be going crazy." Viktor says, stopping his pacing. "I'm positive. I've actually hit the breaking point and am decending into insanity."

Jayce now can't help but laugh. Maybe it was his lack of sleep from working on Hextech for days on end, maybe it was the seriousness in Viktor's voice about his "decent to madness." Jayce's laughter came out as almost wheezes due to how hard he was laughing.

Viktor throws his hands up in exasperatedness. "Jayce!" Viktor scolds. "This ISN'T funny! There's-"

This just makes Jayce laugh more and more. "Yes it is, Viktor." Jayce manages to say through wheezes. He's holding onto the desk for support as he laughs. It gets to the point where passersby become mildly concerned for the scientist's wellbeing. "I assure you you're not decending to madness."

"Then what the hell is going on????" Viktor exclaims, collapsing into his chair.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine." Jayce says, wiping the tears of laughter away as he tries to steady his breathing.

"Viktor?" The sound of his name snaps him out of the memory. "You good? I think I said your name like five times." (Y/N) says with a chuckle. Viktor shakes his head slightly.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." Viktor says, continuing what he was doing. He tried to ignore the slight shake in his hands, the side of his own hand pressed against Ms. (L/N)'s own hand. When he's done. He about throws the screwdriver down. "Thank you for your assistance." Viktor says, the weight off his shoulders earning a little sigh of relief.

"Was that all you needed?" (Y/N) asks.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah." Viktor says. (Y/N) hums in response, walking over to her desk. Click, clack, click, clack. Her boots echo in the room. She grabs her coat and walks towards Viktor again.

"I'm gonna head out then." She says. Click, clack, click, clack. The sound of her boots ring in Viktor's head, a haunting sound that he didn't actually mind having on replay in his brain. "You should too soon." She says, her voice kind and soft.

Viktor's stomach feels like it's about to leap out of his body. Even though it was scientifically impossible, he couldn't help but worry about it. "I will soon." He says, the softness in his voice actually shocking him. Normally he'd just lie out his teeth and sleep in the lab, or not sleep at all. However, when he said that he would... he truly meant it. His eyes move away from the project and to (Y/N). "I'm just gonna finish this little bit up."

(Y/N) smiles, it's tired and small, but it's still a smile nonetheless. Seeing her smile along made the corners of his lips feel like they were moving on their own. He suppresses a smile the best he can, but it still shows on his face. "Goodnight, Viktor." She says, her voice still soft. She didn't speak full volume, and that for some reason made Viktor's heart rate skyrocket.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He says, the same tone and volume as (Y/N). She turns and walks out of the room. Click, clack, click, clack. He listens to the sound of her shoes until they completely fade out.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine."

Viktor didn't have a crush on (Y/N)... did he?

~☆~

For more fics: my masterlist

Feel free to request fics!!!

~Squeed

[beanarie]

i never wanted water once part 3

tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity

tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse

part 1

part 2

~

Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"

"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."

Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"

"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."

"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."

And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.

He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.

He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.

The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."

"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.

"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"

"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"

"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You just didn't seem the type to flee."

None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."

"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"You've got shit."

"Haven't we all?"

"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"

"Jesus, Eddie."

"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"

"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"

After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.

Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.

Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"

"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."

"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."

December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.

At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."

"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"

"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"

"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."

Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."

"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."

Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."

He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."

"What do you fear?" Cal asks.

Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."

He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."

"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.

God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"

"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.

He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."

"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.

Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."

"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."

He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.

Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"

He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.

Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.

[fairiesthrum]

ummmmmm excuse me, my dearest fae, you can’t just say this and then not expand???

bounty hunter satoru?? do you think he has a dirty little space ship that desperately needs maintenance and he constantly brings back aliens from trips just so he can play around with them, exploring their bodies till they’re trembling and whining…………………………………

🎀 — humblest apologies for not explaining myself further alba 😓 (incoming yap session)

imagine in a galaxy far, far away, there’s a place where aliens and humans co-exist. now, about most of the population of aliens appear pretty humanoid, just very colorful skin and hair (pink, purple, green, blue, etc.)

the setting is very much like that of guardians of the galaxy, and gojo satoru is the most notorious bounty hunter there is. i imagine him (i’ll try to post a drawing soon) with a lot of cyber tech. his whole outfit would be black and he uses two guns, one with blue led lights and the other red (trying to get y’all to envision.) he’d also have his signature blindfold but instead, it comes in the form of cyber tech mask glasses that can dematerialize by pressing a button on the side (kinda like peter quill’s.)

he rarely ever misses when he shoots and he always catches the perps (nah, i’d win space edition.) and satoru is very serious abt his job (ik shocking but he’s gotta make that bag somehow and being a bounty hunter pays really well.) he’s very confident to say that nothing is able to distract or deter him from getting it done. but unfortunately for him, he has only one weakness. and that was alien girl puthayy 😛

see, the problem was, aliens and humans can not reproduce with one another. it wasn’t impossible, it was just against the rules. and by that definition, it also meant that it was illegal to have sex with one another. but let’s be fr, it’s going to happen whether it’s outlawed or not.

the first time satoru’s fucked an alien woman, it was at a strip club. as a man, he was curious to what it’d feel like to fuck one. and unfortunately for him, it was the best he’s ever had. it was his guilty pleasure, the one thing no-one could know about or else, it’d risk his job. but it was just too good. and where he used to jerk his cock off to human girls on his ship, now he does it thinking about alien girls. it always has him coming fast, and sometimes, just the thought can have him busting a nut in his pants, completely untouched.

he’s never had mind-blowing sex like that before in his life. the man is already a sex fanatic and craves it all the time (it helps him blow off steam), but he can’t cum when fucking regular human women anymore ;( it’s cause aliens were far more sensitive than humans, their senses advanced with the ability to feel more. and there was no feeling on earth (pun intended) like rutting into a warm cunt that was eager to suck him in, strangling his cock cuz some alien chick was horny out of her mind, pussy practically drooling all over him.

it’d have to be a secret though. and luckily for satoru, no one suspects someone like him, who’s job was to hunt down rogue aliens, to love sloppy extraterrestrial pussy.

satoru’s ship is made from the same advanced tech as his suit. it gets dirty from his constant partying and hook-ups. so, when he needs to get it checked cuz some huge beefy alien dude breaks his console during one of his ragers, he doesn’t bring it to the usual repair shop everyone goes to for their space ships. oh no no, he goes to one run by the other species.

there were a lot of hot ladies working there (because sexism doesn’t exist amongst aliens like at least they doing sumn right unlike us 😒) so, a lot of the times, his ship doesn’t end up fixed at the end.

he… likes to stay and watch them with dark, hooded eyes as they prance around his ship, eager to do their job. every once in a while, he’ll put a hand on their hip, letting it linger just long enough before pulling away when he comes over to “check on the progress.” the touch isn’t uninvited, he knows from the sultry gazes and flirty touches that are given in turn that they’re very much into him too.

it’s not long before he has them bent over the console, thrusting into the warm gooeyness of their sticky hole as they mewl and whine for more of his fat cock while he pinches their sensitive nipples ‘till they squirm.

they’re loud, and he loves it. it feeds his ego to know how hungry they are for him, for his cock. aliens were known for multiplying by the dozen, he assumes it has something to do with that. satoru’s thought about it before, breeding an alien. it was just a fantasy though, a fantasy that has him spilling his cum inside them on the spot, their needy whimpers begging him to.

that was his routine, catching criminals and fucking alien girl pussy on the side. and when his next mission entails finding some lady who stole some priceless piece of tech that could’ve sold for a lot, he was on board to find you right away (and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you were smoking hot.)

it was easy for him to track you, he was the best at this job after all. you try to flee but he manhandles you against the wall, trapping you with your wrists pinned behind you, his chest up against your back. his warm breath hits your neck, panting from chasing you down. satoru’s eyes are dilated, but you’re unable to see with your cheek pressed against the cool metal in front of you.

this wasn’t what you had expected, you were caught so easily! it was a bad idea from the start, but it was either take a leap of faith and end up rich or be broke forever.

the pleas instantly leave your lips, begging to be let go. you didn’t want to go to prison. you were young and had so much to live for! (the two cents in your back pocket 😓) satoru listened, his cerulean eyes twinkling with amusement and poorly concealed arousal as you went on, swearing how you’d never do it again, that he could take back what you stole and forget it ever happened. he contemplated for a moment, choosing his cards carefully, before he’s leaning in next to your ear to whisper, “no can do, sweetheart.”

you shiver, and the atmosphere seems to change around you suddenly at the shift in his tone. a feeling you were all too familiar with stirs in your stomach, your body simply a slave to pleasure (curse your biology!) and the way he had spoken to you just then had you wet in a matter of seconds.

you try to compromise, “i’ll do anything!” it flies out of your mouth before you can even think. and he smirks, like he had been waiting for that the entire time.

“anything?”

and that’s how you end up getting railed by the human man who was sent to capture you.

“‘s so fucking good— fuck!”, he’s slurring by your ear, like he was getting drunk off of pounding into you. the thrusts were desperate, as if he could never get enough of your insides. satoru could stay like this forever, watching his cock slide in and out, stretching you open with his girth. he clings onto you like he never wants to let go, your wrists free and resting on the metal in front of you, the warm puffs of your breath condensing on the cold alloy. strong pale arms covered in high-tech were wrapped tightly around your waist while his hips thrust into you with a hungered fervor.

the tip of his mushroom head hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and absolutely gushing around him. he gives you a low groan of approval when you clench, “jus’ like that pretty, jus’ like that—”

then he lets you go after blowing a load inside you, leaving you with shaky legs and a throbbing for more. and you totally don’t start thieving more often just so he can come find you and do it all over again.

anyways, that is all i have for space bounty hunter gojo lol ₓₓ

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: gotta right my final reflection today and then I don't have schoolwork for a while!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, when is the wedding?” Lillians asks over a half-empty plate. 

You take your time chewing. You don’t have an answer. As far as you’re concerned, this is Lloyd’s plot so he can come up with the detail. You're here to enjoy the wine. 

“Uh, the spring,” he blurts out. 

“The spring?” Gwenyth repeats. “Don’t you have a specific date?” 

“Erm, May something...” Lloyd says. 

“May? That’s so soon. If you don’t even have a date, I doubt you have a venue or a dress or--” Lillian counters. 

“Oh, well, we were thinking of. Er...” Lloyd turns his fork in this hand. “Eloping?” 

“Eloping,” Gwenyth hisses. “Eloping? Does that mean we’re not invited? It’s simply not fair.” 

“Mom, I--” 

“Gwen, he didn’t say that, did he?” 

“Well, dad--” 

“We are invited,” William states. It’s not a question. 

“You see what happens?” Gwen takes her cloth napkin and folds it, dabbing her tearless eyes, “the groom’s mother is always excluded. He is my son--” 

“A destination wedding would be nice,” William suggests. 

“Uh, of course. Yeah. We’d like to go somewhere far away, but uh, not far from you...” Lloyd stammers and you kick his foot. You could laugh at how flustered he is if you were entwined in his lies. He sits straighter, “We’ll have the invitations out soon. Everyone’s invited of course--” 

You kick him again. He slips his hand on your knee and squeezes, “we’re still figuring things out,” he declares. 

“Oh, it seems so!” Gwenyth clasps the napkin between her hands. “Darling, you must let me help. And Lillian. Her wedding was fabulous.” 

“Which one?” Lloyd snickers. 

“We’ll see if you even have one,” his sister retorts. 

He cackles and William sighs. 

“Yes, weddings. All that mess,” William drawls. “The ladies can suss out the details but I do believe it’s time for the yearly rematch.” 

“You still do that?” Lloyd asks. 

“Hm, of course. It is a tradition. What’s the matter? You too old, boy?” 

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd bounces back, shocking you with the snipe. 

Another surprise, William laughs. 

“Ben may need to sit out,” William suggests. 

“Oh, to the contrary, old boy, I’ve had just enough bourbon that I am a prized asset in my state,” the man with the fluffy ash hair doffs his mug. 

“Hm, yes, Carter, Linus, Ransom, Ben, myself, Lloyd,” William counts on his fingers, “Dawson, Lewis, Hudson, and Owen. Quite the lineup this year.” 

You look at Lloyd confused. He doesn’t look excited. You reach under the table and move his hand off your leg. He flinches and glances over at you. 

“Is this some sort of cribbage tournament?” You scoff under your breath. 

He shakes his head. “Touch football...” 

“Football...” You peer across the table with concerns. At least four of the players named are a bit too old to be running around in the snow. 

“It’s fine. Just like tag,” Lloyd shrugs unconvincingly. You chew your lip as you consider him. His eyes follow the movement and you stop yourself. “What?” He asks. 

“I’m just trying to picture it,” you say. “You don’t seem like a football person.” 

“What does that mean? You don’t seem like one either? What would you know?” You hiss back. 

“Ah, dear,” William calls across the table, “do not fear for his safety. We are all family, no one means to hurt each other.” 

Despite his assurance, you’re even less convinced that there won’t be some horrible accident. Again, you remind yourself, it’s Lloyd’s problems. Your sole focus is the money. And the wine. 

You reach to drain your glass, “I’m not worried at all,” you smile, “oh, and honey,” you turn to Lloyd, “you never asked but I love football. I’m a big Bills fan, actually. Remember, laces out.” 

Lloyd grumbles and stands. The other men do in a lazy succession. They stretch and groan over the scraping chair legs. The women rise too and start to clear the table. You’re not a fan of that divide; the men get their fun and the women get to tidy, but you will not be as rude as they’ve accused you. 

You start to gather cutlery and plates. Lloyd startles you as he puts his hand on your hip to stop you. You face him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He says. 

You bat your lashes and smirk. You’re amused that he thinks you’re that concerned. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle a game of tag, but you might want to stretch. There’s no one you can pay to run the ball for you,” you snort. 

You move past him and follow Lillian. He huffs as you leave him to the rabble of old man talking trash. As you enter the kitchen, Lillian sets the plates on the counter and you put yours next to hers. You take the top one and scrape it clean. 

“You’ll enjoy it. It’s always a good show. I am interested to see the teams this year,” she trills. “Of course, without Lloyd around for so long, I had to step in. Unfortunately, this year, I'm in no condition to lace up.” 

“Oh, it sounds like a fun tradition,” you remark. 

“It’s wonderful fun,” she assures as Gwenyth enters. Lillian shifts closer and lowers her voice, “also, you might want to consider, Lloyd wasn’t keeping us from you, perhaps it was the opposite. We are a rather selective bunch.” 

You meet her bruising sneer and smile. The wine helps drown your agitation. Why should you be bothered? Once you have your money, it won’t worry what the bloated bitch thinks? Oops, let’s keep those thoughts inside. 

“Oh, I’ll be sure to thank him for that,” you wink. She frowns. 

“Leave the plates at the sink, ladies,” Gwenyth commands. “Let’s grab out coats! The powder’s fresh. It’ll be a good match.” 

It’s odd. You really didn’t take this horde of pretentious ghouls as the football type. Well, maybe not the NFL-watching, tailgating type in pickups or minivans. Still, you can’t help but be a little amped for a Christmas game. 

There’s a crunch at the front door. Andrea, Angela, and Raquel warble with Gwenyth, as Shanna, Linda, and Lana come over to admire Lillian’s bump and ask her about the birth plans, while you stand to the side and watch Beatrice with a few younger girls, the elder daughters from all those pairing, who are less than enthused about the whole show. The parade of names escape you though you hardly wonder who is who. 

Your eyes wander to the next room. The younger kids are kept busy before the large Christmas tree by women you haven’t been introduced too. You assume those are the nannies Lloyd mentioned. It’s rather grim, a family divided as if the younger generation were a nuisance. Despite the enthusiasm for Lillian’s coming child, the poor soul will only end up at kids’ table apart from their mother. 

The men chatter near the open door as a brisk wind flows in. As you reach for your coat, you collide with another. You turn in the tight space to face Ransom as he cracks his neck. 

“You going to cheer me on, baby girl?” He smirks at you. 

You stare at him crisply. You continue to pull your coat on as you censor the variations of ‘hell no’ rolling through your mind. You look around for an escape but there isn’t one. The entry way is packed with bodies. 

“It will be cathartic. You’d just be cheering on the team, not necessarily, cheering against your beloved fiance,” he snickers. 

You look at him dully, “oh, I'm certain you’ll run circles around a team full of middle aged and elder men.” 

“You love to see it,” he grins and reaches around you. Before you can react, he pinches your ass again. You hit his chest as he pulls away and rubs his fingertips together, “for good luck.” 

“You’re nasty.” 

“Look at who you came with, sweetheart,” he sticks his tongue out and turns away. “But I understand if it’s my ass you’re watching out in the snow.” 

You curl your lip as you zip up your coat and shuffle over near the women. The men disburse through the front door ahead of you. They holler at each other, pointing impatiently, “over there.”; “Ben, too far”, “No, you snap--” 

You watch them break into team in the snowy street, barren of cars in the calm of Christmas Day. You tuck your hands into your pocket as you stand along the curb and the other women puff clouds into the frigid air. Lazy flakes swirl down and add to the glowing ambiance of the wintry midday. 

William, Ransom, Linus, Dawson, and Hudson huddle on one side with the ball as the others, Benson, Lloyd, Carter, Lewis, and Owen watch, waiting to respond to the first play. You’re not expecting anything more than wobbling throws and clumsy runs, still, it’s better than arguing at the dinner table. 

Ransom gets down to snap to William. The ball passes hands as Dawson runs a route and Ransom and Linus block the front light. Hudson takes the running backs route for the fake handoff before William searches for his receiver. Not bad for amateurs, especially given the demographic. 

The ball is caught as Owen makes the touch. No proper tackle, just a tap on Dawson’s shoulders. The play end as the next play is called in the huddle. Instead of moving down the street, the team resets at the same line, counting yard from that point. 

Another snap. The run is stuffed as Lloyd makes the touch on Hudson, almost indifferent about the play. The women cheer but not at the right times. They’re not really paying attention as they garble about desserts or their hair stylists. 

“You know what would be perfect, some mulled cider,” Beatrice suggests. The comment does make you thirsty but you’re not so sure you’d trade the cold outside for that inside. 

The ball switches possessions. Lloyd takes the snap. You’re a bit surprised but Benson is swaying in his blocking position. That’s less shocking. 

Snap. A pass. Straight and on target. Carter, one of William’s brothers, makes the catch and runs for ten more. Or what’s assumed to be that man. 

A new call. Lloyd rambles out signals in a parody of a real game. “Blood. Wine. Beemer, beemer beemer. Black sheep...” Your eye is drawn by Ransom as he shifts low. You tilt your head. 

“Offside,” you mutter as the ball snaps. Ransom’s across the line before the blockers can react and before the ball can change hands. In an instant, Lloyd is in the snow beneath the other man. 

“Oh my!” “Gosh.” “Ransom...” The concern washes over the audience of women as the men stop the play and turn to look at the two men in the snow. 

The latch onto each other in a toothless brawl. Lloyd knocks Ransom into the snow and grabs his neck. Ransom grips him in turn and they roll back and forth, trying to throttle each other. The other men move to separate them. 

“You two,” William booms. 

“Oh, Ransom, what are you doing?” Linda rushes over. 

“Linda,” William growls as Lloyd is dragged away from her son. “We were kind in letting him come here after everything--” 

“Oh, don’t blame him. Your son is just as bad.” 

“My son has a job,” William snarls back. 

“Don’t worry, that cuck barely got a ding on me,” Lloyd sneers as he shrugs the other men off. There’s a raw and red patch on his cheek bone and snow in his mussed hair. Scratches peek out above his collar as he coughs. 

“Fucker’s weak as pudding,” Ransom jeers back. 

“Both of you. That’s disgusting,” William growls. “Enough. Both of you, benched.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd whines. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re ruining the game,” William says. “Both of you, go inside.” 

“He antagonized him,” Linda squalls, “you heard his play call--” 

“Your son’s grown. He can handle words,” William rebuffs. “You can go inside with them.” 

You’re disappointed. It wasn’t bad while it lasted. Lloyd chuffs and steps around his father. Several bodies move to keep him away from Ransom. He rolls his eyes and waves them off. 

“He’s not worth it,” he stomps over to you. “Whatever, let’s get some hot chocolate or some shit. Better than standing in the snow with a bunch of geezers.” 

He grabs your arm and you have no choice but to let him lead you away. You can hear Ransom pleading his own case, whining at his mom, as she huffs and sighs. The argument fades as you near the front door. 

Lloyd pushes through and drags you in with him. He checks his reflection in the wall mirror, fixing his hair as he winces. He left his coat and blazer inside, wearing only his black turtleneck, now wet from the snow and streaked with salt along his back. He shakes his head at himself. 

You undo your coat and hang it. You almost want to call it a day. You came to brunch, you faced the wolves, and there isn’t enough wine to make them tolerable. 

He touches his cheek and hisses, “ugh, bastard.” 

“Hard hit,” you say. 

“Sure was. Who knew the brat had it in him?” He gingerly presses his cheekbone, “ugh, well, Pix, how about you kiss it better?” 

“What?” You grimace. “No way.” 

“But it hurts,” he turns to you and pushes his bottom lip out. 

“Uh uh,” you cross your arms. “We need to talk. About the wedding.” 

“Really? You wanna talk about that?” 

“Lloyd, I said a courthouse.” 

“I know but...” he pauses and glances around the entry way, “come on.” 

He ushers you down the hall and into the bathroom. He shuts the door and you’re once more trapped in the tight space with a Hansen twin. He stands in front of the door as he faces you. 

“Look, I’m just trying to get this done. It’s good for both of us. You want your money, don’t you? So you need to play along.” 

“I am.” 

“It’s just a fucking ceremony and a dinner.” He argues. 

“It’s not what I agreed too.” 

“Yeah, well, we have to be convincing if we want our prize.” 

You scowl, “I really am not enjoying this whole ‘we’ narrative.” 

“That’s the script, Pixie pie. So put a little bit of energy into it.” He steps closer and you stiffen as he puts his hands on your shoulders. “Loosen up and you might actually have a bit of fun.” 

“It was supposed to be the holiday and the courthouse,” you insist. 

“Not good enough. We both know it.” 

“I want more money,” you grit. 

He pouts again, “you drive a hard bargain for such a soft little thing.” 

You push him away as he goes to stroke his cheek. 

“Two million. I’m not wearing a white dress for anything less.” 

“Baby, please, you’re bleeding me dry--” 

“I’m not blind, Lloyd.” You look around emphatically, “I know what I’m asking for is a fraction of what you’ll get. I’ve worked for you long enough to know your tactics. Whatever I ask, I’m being undersold. Two or I walk right now.” 

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, “let me just see a little ass.” 

You blink, stunned by his barter. You shake your head. “Not for a three million.” 

“Ugh, fine. You’re so damn stubborn. I like it but I also hate it,” he sighs. “Two,” he pulls his hand free and offers it. You shake it with a triumphant smirk. “Let’s seal that the right way.” 

He tightens his hold on you as he grabs the back of your head and bends to smother you with a bristly kiss. You squeak before you can pull away. You scoff at him and yank your hand free to wipe your lips. 

“It’s gonna happen, Pixie,” he grins. “Trust.” 

[lucidbee]

Please Don’t Kill My Boyfriend | Percy Jackson x Reader

Summary: Hermes is an overprotective father.

Word count: 942

Authors note: I wrote this at 2am and didn't proofread before posting, this is definitely not my best work. Please give me requests. 

It was a simple quest all you had to do was kill a group of Echidna that were causing a little too much trouble. A three-day feat at most. When the quest wrapped up on the second day, Percy had the brilliant idea of staying back and relaxing on the way back to camp, instead of sleeping in an alleyway or in the forest with the remaining money we had, we rented two hotel rooms for the night. Grover demanded that he have his own room, stating he could no longer be so close to teenagers in love.  

It started out completely innocent light kisses and words of devotion. It quickly turned into much more when the idea of making up for lost time came into your head. Camp was amazing but it definitely was strict on one thing. No campers of the opposite sex could be alone together. Percy and you had already gotten in trouble trying to sneak you into his cabin late at night, for this exact reason. It was one night of fun that would hopefully be enough to last for a whole summer. That was until a flash of blinding light blinded you both and in front of the bed stood your father. Hermes. 

“You were tasked with killing a monster, not trying to impregnate my daughter,” Hermes angrily shouted, pulling Percy out of bed by his hair.

“I-I  promise that wasn’t my attention sir,” Percy choked out trying to spare the God's wrath. 

“Sure it wasn't, I’ve been alive for thousands of years boy, I have fathered hundreds of children, I am very much aware of what was about to take place in this hotel room,” Hermes growled, dropping Percy onto the floor. Who quickly went to put his pants that were on the floor back on. 

“Dad please it wasn’t like that, we’re teenagers what did you expect to happen?” You called out from underneath the bed sheets.

“You can’t go around sleeping with the son of Posideon y/n.” “You just had to choose the one demi-god that danger follows the most, you could have dated a son of Demeter but nooo.” 

“Take it up with Aphrodite if you don’t want me to love him, we weren’t doing anything wrong,” You cry out, holding the sheets close to yourself as you pick up your clothes from the floor. 

“I am trying to protect you y/n, you’re life is dangerous enough as it is.” Hermes says in a more gentle tone, turning around for you to be able to get dressed. 

“Percy is more than capable of protecting me father, he is the strongest demi-god to ever exist, he has saved Olympus multiple times.” You say while putting on your clothes.

“I still don’t like it, why don’t you take the vow of chastity? Hmm, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Dad please.”

“I would never purposely put your daughter in harms way, I would flood the world to find her, I would cause earthquakes the world has never seen to avenged her, I love her sir.” Percy said coming to stand next to you. 

Hermes turns to face you both with a defeated look on his face. “You wouldn’t stop seeing eachother even if I ordered you two huh?”

“Nope.”

“No, sir.”

“If you ever hurt my daughter fish boy I will hunt you down and destroy everything you love.”

“Of course sir, I wouldn’t expect anything else.” 

“Now come on get in the car im taking you both back to camp,” Hermes says walking to the hotel door. 

You both awkwardly follow behind him; Percy followed you into the backseat of the cab, shutting the door behind him. “ Do you know how to please a woman, fish boy?” Hermes asked climbing into the front seat of the car. 

“DAD” You scream out. Percys face is beat red and a stuttering mess.

“I just want to make sure he will make a good life partner for you, humans don’t understand the whole open relationship thing us Gods do,” Hermes says driving out of the hotel parking lot.

“Does he make you finish y/n? Sex life is very important in a relationship.”

“Dad please stop,” You beg.

“Is he a selfish lover? A son of Posideon would be selfish in bed, I don’t know why you didn’t choose Zeus’s son.” 

“Please I beg of you stop”

“Yes Zeus is a horrible partner, but he atleast makes you finish,” Hermes continues on, ignoring your pleas.

You suffer through the longest car ride of your life. Both of your faces a permanent color of red by the end of it. Hermes wouldn’t let up for the whole car ride, asking you more and more embarrassing questions. Hermes stop at the border of the camp getting out of the cab to grab your bags out of the trunk. 

“Remeber Percy, sex toys are your friend not your enemy,” Hermes says handing the bags off to Percy to carry. 

“I-I will, sir,” Percy stutters out. 

“And y/n rember to pray to me if he causes you any trouble, I’ll cause him the worst pain he has experienced yet,” Your father says taking you into a hug.

“Thanks Dad, I love you.”

Hermes gets back into the cab, driving off as you and Percy take hands walking back into camp. 

“Well that was fun,” I say chuckling.

“It was definitely an experience I would not like to relive again,” Percy says laughing. Taking his first deep breath since your father appeared. 

“Hey Percy?”

“Yeah,” He says turning to look at you.

“We forgot Grover at the hotel.”

“Shit.”

[elvensorceress]

very late wip wednesday that is not wednesday at all I'm sorry but have snickerdoodles of longing?

@daisyssousa @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @tizniz @hippolotamus @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @singitforthegirls @bekkachaos @sunflower-eddiediaz @hotshotsxyz @epicbuddieficrecs @daffi-990 @blutterlie @exhuastedpigeon @thelikesofus @livinginsunnyhell 💕 On your left you will see ridiculous pining idiots sharing a bed and being oblivious 👍 and Eddie being Completely Normal about Buck having Feelings(tm) for someone…

Buck lies down and turns onto his side toward Eddie. “Just in my head.”

Eddie reaches out and runs his fingertips along Buck’s forehead. “You still thinking about the breakup? Because he wasn’t good enough for you. No one is. You deserve someone who gets how special you are. You’re a catch.”

Buck huffs but the hint of a smile touches him. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Haven’t thought about him in a while actually.”

That’s something at least. “Good. He didn’t know how lucky he was.”

Eddie doesn’t know why other than his constant urge to be affectionate especially when someone needs cheering up, but as soon as he thinks about how he should withdraw and stop touching Buck, his hand has other ideas. And he has to dip his fingers into Buck’s curls and rub his head.

They’re so soft and so perfect at this length. They could even be longer and Eddie could bury his hand in more of them. 

The look Buck gives him is too piercing. For a second, it strikes through Eddie like lightning. But it’s gone in the next instant. 

Buck noticeably swallows hard. “I don’t know. Maybe he was unlucky.”

“If you’re going to insult my best friend,” Eddie warns and contemplates making a fist in Buck’s hair for emphasis on the warning. He doesn’t. But he does think about it. 

“No, I didn’t mean like that.” Buck leans into Eddie’s hand and smiles, just a little. “Not, ‘he’s so unlucky being with me’ but like, what if— what it he was right? When he said he knew he wasn’t my last. What if he saw something? Or noticed something?”

Eddie’s thumb wanders and brushes over Buck’s cheekbone, all absentminded instinct. “What kind of something?” 

Buck’s eyes flutter and close for a moment before he takes Eddie’s hand and holds it still against his own chest. “S-so-something like, something I didn’t know. Or didn’t realize. I didn’t know I liked him at first. I had no idea that’s what I was feeling. And— a-and what if that happened again? What if he knew I wanted someone else? Or that I have feelings for someone who isn’t him? And that’s how he knew he wasn’t my last.” 

Someone else? 

There’s someone else? 

Eddie doesn’t know why. But he can’t breathe. Or move. He looks at his own hand, happily, eagerly pressed to Buck’s chest over his heart. “You—” he says but loses the rest of the words. All he can do is echo. “Someone else? There’s someone? A new someone? Another someone?”

Buck shrugs, waves it off, doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. “N-no. No, but. I don’t know. Hypothetically. I guess. What if that were the case? What if that’s what he thought? And that’s why he ended it.”

What if his ex thought Buck wanted someone else and that’s why he got dumped? It’s plausible? The more concerning thing about this however is, “You’re not thinking about calling him again. Are you? You’re not going to try and get back with him? Please tell me that’s not what this is. You’ve been working so hard. We’ve baked so many things.”

Buck turns pink and shakes his head. “No, that’s not— it’s not what I mean. That’s not the point. He’s not the point. I was just wondering, you know? Since he realized I was crushing on him but totally unaware of it. Maybe it happened again. Maybe he knew before I did. What I feel. In theory, I mean. He knew I have feelings for someone else, so he had to break it off. So— s-so? That would make the whole situation unlucky. For him. Or both of us. If we were both having unrequited feelings for different people.”

That’s— sensible? Also so much to think about. How can Eddie think about any of it. How can there be another person already? That’s three in less than a year. Eddie’s had three relationships in his whole life. How does anyone manage feeling like that? Feeling and then not feeling or feeling something else while still stuck in the first feeling or trying so hard to feel something when there were no feelings whatsoever and you were already thinking that feelings were horrible— it’s too much. Way too complicated. “I guess. That would be unlucky.”

“Right? Unlucky.” Buck nods. Somehow with the energy of a nervous, twitchy squirrel. 

“Is there someone else? Another someone?” Eddie asks again. Because he can’t stop thinking he’s also missed something. Or everything. When did Buck meet someone new? Why wouldn’t he have mentioned? Why, again, are they back to crushes and this person I just met five seconds ago really sees me and unrequited— wait. “There is someone. How would you know it’s unrequited unless you have someone specific in mind?”

Buck lets go of Eddie’s hand. In fact, he moves Eddie’s hand back to his side of the bed and then deliberately lets go of it. “I was just wondering. It’s hypothetical. There isn’t anyone. I’m tired, aren’t you tired? We should sleep, yeah? Goodnight, Eds.” He turns away and switches off the lights and stays on his side with his back to Eddie.

Eddie pokes him in the back where he’s sensitive and ticklish. “You’re a fucking terrible liar.”

Buck bats his hand away and yawns. “Aaahhhmmmm not. So sleepy. Not lying. Sleeping.” 

Are they the fourteen year olds now? Eddie tugs the blankets around himself and wriggles on his back to get comfortable. “Whatever. You brought it up.”

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[kesaluliloveyou]

This is something I’ve definitely thought about in my Enma self-ship, just because the boy gets scraped up, bruised, and hurt so much. Part of it is bullying, but I also do think he’s just normally someone very uncoordinated and accident prone. I’ve always been the one to bandage up hurt friends, so this habit starts way back when that’s all we are to each other. I’ll notice some new, fresh injury, I’ll sigh and ask what happened that time. While he’s telling me, I carefully examine the injury, wash it, and take care of it as needed – maybe it’s a cut that needs to be rinsed, to have Polysporin put on it, and then to have it be bandaged up. Maybe it’s a bigger issue, where I have to stitch up the wound or reset a broken nose. Every time, after I fix it up, because I’m used to doing so with the younger kids and with other friends, I always kiss an area near the injury that isn’t going to hurt him, grin at him, and then go ‘There, kisses all better.’ While it makes him stutter and stumble the first couple times I do it, it just becomes a thing I do to him.

Or at least, that’s what I assume it is – just a weird little quirk of mine that he puts up with and that sometimes makes him smile. Until one day, when I hurt myself in one of the very stupid ways that I tend to, and my hand is now dripping blood. I’m kind of cradling it to my chest and hurrying in to just do a quick rinse of my sliced palm. Enma sees me and though he freaks out a little, he makes me sit down while he tries his best to take care of the wound. Does he do the best job of it? No, it’s kind of a clumsily done, messy job. But is he trying so hard to take care of me? Yes and it’s so damn sweet that my heart is almost hurting because like…what did someone like me do to deserve that level of care? I can’t say much while he does it, but what really kills my heart, in the best of ways? After he’s all done with his patching me up, he gently turns my hand kind of sideways and just lightly pecks the side of my hand nearest to where I was hurt, smiles at me in that way that makes it impossible not to smile back, and says ‘there, kisses all better.’

Imagine your f/o kissing a small wound. Maybe it's a tiny bruise, a paper cut, or you slightly pinched yourself. Your f/o gives a sweet, delicate peck to the area before smiling wide. "All better?"

[yuyusshinelight]

Friends feat j.wy

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♪ This does NOT represent Wooyoung in any way, it's just fiction.

♪ NSFW! I should say that minors can't read this but I can't stop them from reading this so read at your own risk.

♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.

Note: I wanted to write something special for Wooyoung because of his birthday 🫣. I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it and enjoy your read! Love you my stars!

Neither of you knew how it happened in the first place. It just happened one movie night at Wooyoung's apartment in which your best friend's dick decided to get hard for no apparent reason.

Neither of you felt something romantic for the other, and it seemed to be a bit annoying for your friend so, without malice, you offered to help him calm it down. It was just a harmless handjob, no? It wasn't like seeing his dick was going to trade your friendship or something like that. But what started as a simple handjob ended with you taking his full length in your mouth, willingly swallowing everything Wooyoung had to offer. His hands pressed your head down his length while yours played with his sensitive balls as you wished.

When the idea of helping him came up, you didn't think that your panties would get as wet as they ended. Nor was it in your mind either that you would end up legs wide open on the sofa with Wooyoung devouring your needy cunt so deliciously. Moaning like a bitch in heat every time his fingers fucked sinfully your clenching moistened hole while his tongue swirled playfully around your clit.

Of course, neither of you could ever have imagined that your usual movie night on Friday would have ended with his cock deep inside your pussy, piercing your cervix for hours in different positions.

That night woke up an intense burning desire that has gradually turned into an unhealthy obsession. A dirty, depraved spiral of unfiltered, unchecked sex where you just want to be full and Wooyoung just wants to get his cock wet. You are just two best friends using each other whenever your bodies call for it. No matter where, no matter what time. Just one call and you two will be a mess of moans, saliva, sweat and semen. You really are like animals in heat.

The sexual need of being with each other is such that you even have skipped classes at university. It's true that classes are important, of course they are, but being pinned against the door in the bathroom with Wooyoung's hand in your mouth to keep you from making more noise than necessary while this horny boy whispers all kinds of unblissful things in your ear are way too much better than to hear some boring old teacher explaining who knows what.

"Although I love those angelic sounds of yours too much I need you to keep that little mouth shut, babe. Can you do that for me? Or do you want us to be discovered? Does the idea of the whole faculty watching me piercing your little naughty pussy turn you on? Is that it?".

And how not to mention those naughty and entertaining evenings in which Wooyoung tries to keep his composure while playing with some friends online because you are cockwarming him so deliciously. You don't give a shit about his game, either his friends at the other end of the call. You just want his cock inside you. On more than one occasion Wooyoung has had to mute himself for how much you were clenching around him, making him moan in such a shameless way.

There is not a Friday night in which you two don't end up fucking after watching a movie. Although, lately you have been starting with the foreplay while the movie was still running in the background. Wooyoung sliding his naughty hand under the sheet that covers you both only to grope for the edge of the miniature piece of fabric you supposedly call a skirt and which you have clearly put on to provoke him, successfully finding your clit underneath the already wet fabric of your panties and starting to play with it.

But when you try to do something similar to him, suddenly your hands are held by his free hand. On his face reigns that triumphant smile that you have so often wanted to tear off but that now makes you clench your thighs tightly because a trickle of your sticky arousal decides to run all over your pussy.

"Only half an hour of film left, babe. If you cum before the movie ends I will edge you for another half an hour".

Half an hour of being a victim of Wooyoung's torturous game is hell but you're too stubborn to lose against him so you barely make it through those damn credits where you don't even give him time to take the movie off. In the blink of an eye you're already in his lap, jumping like a rabbit in heat on his cock in search of your precious, long-awaited orgasm.

"Only half an hour, kitty. If you cum before me just one time I will edge you for a whole hour".

[mintmatcha]

re: this ask

this isn’t my best work but they make me crazy

i think it’s both. i think katsuki does crack, and because of how she was with izuku, he’s thinking she wants hard and nasty. and yeah, maybe she does- but when he’s got her under him, he looks into her eyes and just…stops. because it’s the same way she looked flirting with izuku, when he knew she was faking it, playing a roll- masking what she really wants in favor of catering to him. hiding.

he doesn’t like that. makes him a little sick, honestly.

so he changes tactics.

he leans in so sooo close, noses brushing, foreheads touching, so all she can see is him, the way he’s looking at her- trying to silently communicate that his pleasure comes from her pleasure. he’s rocking into her so slowly it barely counts as fucking and it catches her off guard. she doesn’t know what his play is. doesn’t know what he wants. doesn’t know what to be.

“finally figuring it out?” he rasps, so gently, so softly, such a contrast from his usual brash demeanor.

“what?”

“we’re gonna stay just like this,” he smirks at the way his favorite star keens at a particularly deep thrust, “until you’re ready to really let go for me, yeah? don’t want you keepin’ yourself from me. i can take it baby, promise.”

katsuki watches her try to contemplate while she chokes back moans while he’s hitting that same spot. he wants her stupid, relaxed, so drunk on him she can’t think straight. and he does, it’s just a struggle for a bit. he builds her back up slowly so when she realizes how much she’s let go it’s far too late to turn back.

i think that’s when that other scene would happen, the one from a while back where she triggers her quirk without thinking. after, when she finally trusts him to catch her when she falls, he cums so hard he thinks he blacks out for a second

but yk. who am i to say 😌

you... you come here. right by me for the rest of class...

he even realizes the sounds you were making were hollow and practiced, especially compared to the way you're sounding now, pleading in his ear, whispering for more-

and the way your body trembles now, with uncontrolled pleasure--

[bisexualbrainrots]

Tim writing backwards makes a bit more sense as to why decisions like the breakup happened, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Like, following that thought pattern, if Buck is supposed to go through it in season 8b then he mustn't have the support needed for it, if he's supposed to be emotionally and mentally hit with his sister's kidnapping and his best friend leaving, then he can't have a boyfriend there to support him because hey, boyfriend will comfort him and everything will be fine (🙄)

But man, you can still feel shitty while in a relationship, life can still take a toll on you even when you're dating someone. It doesn't just magically go away.

It would've been more interesting to see Buck go through it, have Tommy there to support him and still feel bad over everything happening in his life. You could even use this to create conflict because let's say, Tommy is trying to help but Buck feels like a burden because of it. You could have them fight about it! And still come out fine! ughh

I get adding the breakup for romcom reasons, but the idea that it was added so that Buck could go through it but worse in 8b is just so ??? Like why, why does it have to be that way.

Anyways that's my rant for today.

[currentfandomkick]

Danny, mute by non-liminal standards, yelling at Damian in Ghost Speak: no, no murder!

Damian, thinking Danny must have defected from the LOA and be trying to help him not relapse: silence betrayer! (Moves to now kill Danny)

Danny, 10/10 done with this weird gas, manages to restrain Damian just barely and locks his grip in the middle of Damian’s forearms to prevent escape, dragging him to the ambulance: … wait you can hear me? My parents can’t unless they wear these earbuds they made! Are you (Ghost speak language Proper name) after an accident too?

Damian, still high on fear gas but aware Just Enough to tuck that info into his noggin: release me!

Danny: after the nice EMTs clear you, sure thing!

—

Meanwhile Bruce senses a disturbance in Gotham regarding one of his kids, sighs, and asks ‘who did it’ in the family Group Chat.

No one fesses up to a recent disturbance but Jason is intent on being ‘the one who did the thing’

Duke feigns confusion like he hasn’t done 20+ crazy things in the last week alone warranting that question.

Tim insists he’s only targeting people on the ‘allowed list’ so Bruce can’t say shit.

Stephanie just send a pic of the biochem chapter she’s on and says she doesnt have time for shenanigans RN

Cass sends a pic of Stephanie in the library with her, with Cass holding coffee.

Dick is ignoring them as he’s muted the chat.

Bruce asks where Dick and Damian are.

Cass sees the news and runs off to handle Scarecrow as she is the best fighter and closest to her suit.

Smashcut to Danny restraining Damian for an EMT and fear toxin anti-venom injection.

Jason rolls up with Tim and Bruce in hot pursuit to see a scrawny civilian using what all three clock as a dialect of LOA mission speak while restraining Damian successfully. All three are concerned.

Danny is relieved when its over, and uses his phone to tell then what happened, and asks who ‘Tim’ is as ‘i heard him say he wanted to kill him. First time someone not using the earbuds my parents made to hear me could understand me, and its for murder :c’

Jason has decided to ask Danny where he learned those grips as ‘i teach self defense in Crime Alley and never say that before’

‘Mom taught me, if you go for joint holds its not hard to get out if you’re willing to dislocate or break a few bones^^’

Tim is checking in on a less murdery Damian while Bruce is with the Paramedic keeping all of them in his line of sight.

Danny is now intent on asking Damian if its genetic, a ‘meta thing’ he keeps hearing about or a skill that can be learned, as he’d like to know please and thank you!

Damian finding out Danny’s family is fleeing a creepy billionaire who disabled Danny in pursuit of his mother? Well, Damian can observe and protect Danny should the need arise. But only at a distance (too naive/ignorant for Damian to deal with on a regular basis. Damian will answer school related questions as English is BS, and Danny clearly is struggling in reading analysis… and he isnt sure if it’s a new thing for Danny or not. Danny out-doing him in their science classes was unexpected, and a bit annoying. Realizing Danny was taught a mix of occult and science and can get exact measurements by eye, horrifying.)

Danny does decide to figure out how to make cures for each rogue’s preferred chemical warfare, and asks Damian if he has a clue how to get these verified as ‘shots aren’t always an option’. (Blame the substitute teacher danny posts for that brainworm)

Damian makes a point of helping Danny if only to stop him from becoming Rogue-nip.

Danny befriending Killer Croc, Grundy and Poison Ivy did not help.

Danny has a problem.

It's been around two weeks after fighting vlad and removing his powers, the tension has been building between them for a long time.

First it was the crown, Danny had earned it after fighting Pariah but Vlad thinks that Danny isn't ruthless enough to rule saying that he's "too soft" and "too indecisive" to wear the (for all the title of Ghost King is worth) glorified funny hat. Then after a long time of arguing between them Vlad came up with a scheme. If he couldn't become the king he would become the regent, he just needed to possess Jack Fenton, have him divorce Vlad's "beloved" Madeline and then possess her into marrying him.

As you can guess this didn't work, Danny found him about two seconds after he tried to divorce Maddy cause he wasn't even trying to act (like a human sized Golden retriever) his dad. So he and mom beat the creepy incel out of his dad, in the process Danny was forced to transform and his parents accepted him (YAY!), he also got hit in the side of his head by Vlad, damaging his Broca's area just enough so he can only speak in Ghostspeak, but he can still understand human words and letters. After that mess they moved to Gotham so he could recover in a place with high ectoplasm without Vlad harassing them. ( Lady Gotham hates Vlad.)

Now you're probably wondering, "What's the problem, Vlad is out of the picture and your parents accept your half dead-ness."

The problem is that some guy dressed as a scarecrow released some weird gas into his school. He didn't get a lot of people cause the "Bats?" Showed up but his friend Damien got sprayed and ran off saying he was gonna kill his brother tim. So in Danny's infinite genius he ran off after him to make sure he doesn't hurt someone.

He's not sure why Damien speaks Ghostspeak though.

[impactrueno]

Hi! I really love your comics, and art in general! Your Hey Arnold and Simpsons stuff was fire, and I've been loving your Beetlejuice comics (Lydia and Juice's falling out got me tearing up lmao) As far as your Beetleverse comics go - idk if this is something you've mentioned somewhere - I know they're probably meant to be, like, separate canons and stuff, but if they were to take place in the same kinda "timeline", what would the order of events be?

Does CartoonLydia meeting older MovieLydia - a Lydia who's had some really negative experiences with MovieBJ and preaches that ToonLydia SHOULD NOT trust ToonBJ - have any impact on her getting fed up with her BJ and breaking it off with him?

Again, thank you for making these comics - they're dope as hell, and I'm excited for what comes next!

thank you so much!

the beetleverse comics are just a "what if" where we pull each duo out of their respective canons (unceremoniously) and force them to be in their little white void enclosure that i made for them lol

so the events in the story i'm currently doing haven't been influenced by any of that. but if they were to take place in the same timeline, it'd happen some time before the end of the show (maybe even before season 4,) and i think movie lyds telling her to be wary of toon bj would make her doubt herself and her beej for a moment, but then would be proven wrong or realize that movie lydia was wrong about him. and this would not make sense in a real life situation (in fact, it would be concerning) but here's the thing:

something i've found interesting to think about with the beetleverse comics is that each duo operates on different logic. movie lydia is closer to real life logic aka "why the hell are you letting this child hang around so closely with this weird old man" but cartoon bj and lyds work under saturday morning cartoon logic, meaning none of the things movie lydia is fearing would ever happen, because it's a show for kids. so in their little universe, cartoon lydia is perfectly safe with her beej, who as we all know would sooner die all over again than to cause her any harm, so she has nothing to fear. they'll just be best friends forever (with a few bumps along the road of course) and that's it. movie lydia can't even wrap her head around that.

now going back to the current story of them 30 years later; i'm still writing them under cartoon logic for the most part, but with a bit more realistic flavor. so their relationship is still too weird to happen in real life, only now we're seeing the consequences of the friction between them that was already there in the cartoon, and he can't joke his way out of this one or have silly incidental music and sound effects to lessen the blow. movie lydia's warnings wouldn't have had much of an effect on them because this was something that was going to happen either way, and cartoon lydia's problem with bj was never "you're a creepy old man why are you obsessed with me" (real life logic) and more so "you're supposed to be my best friend in the whole world but all i do is babysit you and solve your problems for you while you try to scam some sucker out of their money and i've had it" (cartoon logic)

i hope all that makes sense lol