#dick is have tempted to YouTube it

[dickie-birb]

The devil couldn’t reach me so instead he sent bludhaven apartments heating systems and landlords

[hearts4chriss]

Spoiled rotten.

boyfriend!Chris! + spoiled!black fem gf

Prompt: in which in all ur relationships prior to Chris, they’ve never treated you right or made you feel appreciated, as ur bestfriend, he couldn’t stand that anymore he made a move and he changes all that for you, and better. He spoils you Rotten.

Part 9

Contains: lots of kissing, hella money spent, fast/rough fingering in the car, recently established relationship ( like 4ish months ), fem!oral, modeling all the new things he bought you turns into👀, overstimulation, Chris has his drivers license in this, fluff towards the end

Chris and I had been together for around 4 months and I swear he’s the best boyfriend I could’ve ever asked for.

Prior to him I had been treated like shit, guys not taking me out, name calling never getting flowers just bare minimum. And Chris hated seeing that so he confessed his feelings which were mutual too mine and we’ve been together ever since.

Chris is the youngest of the sturniolo triplets who are all my bestfriends, they’ve made a lot of progress and money on YouTube and I’m so proud of them. I told Chris not to spend any of his money on me but that didn’t end well.

Ever since we’ve started dating he’d taken me to the nicest restaurants in LA, always buying me flowers randomly not just special dates, always buying me things ( not that I’ve asked ), and just treating me like a princess.

I’ve loved every second of it, and it’s not even just that, whenever we have sex I don’t feel like shit after, he takes care of me, treats me good and praises me.

Today Chris insisted on taking me on a shopping spree because I’ve had a really rough week with modeling and mentally just been exhausted even when I told he didn’t have to but he wanted to do it for me.

“babyyy you ready?” Chris calls from upstairs

I walk out of our shared room wearing a long fitted grey skims body-con dress hugging my curves really showing off my figure, along with my new different shades of cream coloured Jordan’s that Chris and I have too match and my new 30 inch bussdown that I had installed last week he insisted on paying for even though I told him I got it.

Chris licked his lips hungrily as I walked down the stairs and approached him immediately gravitating his hands to my waist.

“God princess ur so fucking pretty yk that?” He placed a kiss on my lips and I smiled widely at his compliment.

“Thank you baby.” I chuckle and smile at the way he’s looking at me.

“Like- really good- like “we might not make it too the mall” good.” Chris pressed himself into me already feeling his dick pressed against my thigh.

“Chrisss, come on you said I get too go shopping.” I teased walking towards the car and he smacks my ass and I shriek letting a chuckle slip from his lips.

“Ur a freak.” I giggle as he opened the door for me and I got in.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, I’m tempted to do something to you right now ma.” He smirked climbing in the car beginning to drive.

The drive was pretty smooth but always LA traffic hits and Chris’s hand had slowly been creeping up my thigh and it had me soaked, the way his hands felt through the thin fabric made me desperate for his fingers.

I began to shift in my seat anxiously waiting to see if he’d notice this.

he chuckled immediately sliding my dress up carefully pressing his middle and ring finger to my panties already feeling how soaked they were with arousal.

“already so fucking wet.” He mutters and I spread my legs giving him easier access and he clearly liked that.

“Such a good girl.” Chris smiled as I slid my panties off and his fingers get to work at my needy core.

I moaned softly feeling him circle my clit as I shuddered biting my lip waiting for him to move faster.

“don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good I promise.” He kissed me again deeply as we were in traffic allowing this too distract as he inserted his fingers into my pussy immediately closing around him.

“fuckk chris.” I moan out softly rolling my eyes back as I tried to make sure none of my wetness dripped on his seat.

He sighed and laughed a bit when he noticed.

“relax princess I want it on my seat, ur the only one allowed in this seat.” He pressed a kiss to my ear as he says this still knuckles deep inside me hitting my g-spot repeatedly now making me cry out.

“can’t wait till you cum all over my fingers so I can taste you.” He said almost in a growl like tone as a moan slipped from my glossy lips not letting up his fingers perfectly going against my walls.

“shit-“ I groan throwing my head on the seats when he curved his fingers into my pussy more desperate to make me cum quicker then normal.

“fuck Chris!” I yelp gripping onto the console of the car and he grabs my hand placing a kiss too it sending warmth too the rest of my body.

“your almost there pretty girl just hold my hand yeah?”Chris placed a loving kiss on my cheek and I nodded holding his hand loving how the tattood initials of my name in cursive rested on the middle finger.

“Mmph Fuckk I’m cumming!” And with that alone and his every dirty word made me squirt all over his fingers letting it drip out onto my seat letting me catch my breath.

“Lift up for me baby.” He said softly placing a pink towel down for me and wiping off the seat with cleaning wipes before sitting me back down fixing my dress.

“Fuck you now my legs are sore-“ I roll my eyes playfully he chuckles pulling into the mall parking lot.

“Well lucky for you, we are here, ready to get spoiled rotten sweetheart? Because that’s exactly what im gonna do.”

I sighed giving a smile and nod as he held my hand and we walked into the mall

Chris was not fucking kidding

whenever I touched something in each store he would put it in the cart and buy it which resulted in WELL over 5000 spent on me which he didn’t have to do but hell I’m never turning down free shit from this man.

We went too Victoria secret, prada, footlocker and dior. He kept reassuring me.

“go ahead baby whatever you want it’s yours”

“Don’t worry about me this is all for you princess you deserve it”

“Can’t wait to see how pretty my girl looks in all these clothes”

It was honestly bringing tears to my eyes from how sweet and thoughtful he was.

Eventuallyyy we did make it back to the house carrying allll the bags in upstairs too our shared bedroom.

Chris sat eagerly on the bed as he could not wait to see me try on these clothes, specifically the lingerie.

now I’d never worn lingerie for anyone before but I wanted to give it a try and Chris convinced me so I bought a few ( 21 ) sets.

I was now in our bathroom slipping on one of the sets that I really liked

it was a one piece thong body suit and it hugged my curves which I really liked and pushed my tits up a bit and I felt like it was definitely a lot and I was nervous to show him.

Nonetheless I sucked in a breath and opened the bathroom door meeting a very shocked and turned on Chris.

his eyes wandered my body as I smiled giving him a small spin he lets out a faint “fuck” and I felt wetness immediately shoot to my core.

“Do you like it? I was a little nervous that-“ I was cut off by Chris’s hands on my waist kissing my lips.

“Of course I like it, you look fucking perfect you have such a beautiful body baby.” He says softly with those blue predator eyes as I drowned in them.

Chris’s eyes wandered towards my thighs biting his bottom lip slightly making me flush inside a bit since I’d always been told my thighs were too big.

“What’s wrong mama? There’s nothing wrong with ur thighs, I was just thinking- well picturing what it’d be like to have my head buried between them.”

my pussy throbs when Chris says this, his breath lingering on my neck and I gulp.

“You don’t wanna see the other sets?” I manage to get out no matter how badly his words flustered me and he smirked grabbing me by the back of my thigh setting me on our soft bed.

“mmm maybe in a bit.” He chuckles slowing pulling down the thin material letting it slide all the way past my ankles leaving me bare for him.

“shit- ur so pretty like this ma.” Chris said kissing my lips again allowing our tongues to meet moaning sloppily into each others mouths.

I didn’t even realize his fingers beginning too play with my wetness and I began to close my legs.

“Aw baby don’t hide from me, I’ll make you feel like a fucking princess I promise.” He says positioning my hands on my legs pulling them back as if we were doing missionary but that wasn’t the case he was about to fuck my shit up

Chris licked his lips hungrily waiting to taste me.

“ur pussys so pretty a shame nobody treated you right.” He says softly before his tongue presses against my clit and I whimper in response, his plump lips wrap around my clit and begin to suck as if it’s a suction cup and I moan out loudly.

“Oh shit chris!” I cry out throwing my head back as he laps up my pussy like it’s his last meal.

“fuck fuck fuckkk!” I curse out when he shakes his head allowing his nose to brush against my bud making me squeal at the way he’s eating me out, it felt so good.

Chris’s tongues plunges inside my hole occasionally making my legs nearly tremble down.

“Mmm taste so fucking good”- his hot breath on my sensitive cunt makes it pulsate and I moan out at his words crying out making sure my legs are spread enough for him.

“Chris o-oh god”- i whimper my legs begin to shake already since I’ve never felt this much pleasure at once, I only imagine what his cock would feel like.

“fuck mama your gonna cum- cum for me want it all over my face. He hand rubbing my clit before lapping again and I shudder under his touch.

“Fuck Chris I’m cumming I’m cumming!” I scream loudly curling my toes as I cream all over his face and he doesn’t stop.

“Fuck princess- squeeze ur thighs around my head yeah?” He groans and I set my legs on the bed and close them in on his head and he moans into my swollen pussy licking and sucking every last drop of my orgasm.

“Shit shit Chris I’m-I’m gonna cum again-“ I cry out and his pace doesn’t slow as he moves his head once again allowing his nose to hit that sensitive bud again feeling my stomach knot burst again almost too quickly squirting on him my legs trembling around his head.

Chris pulls away, a string of his split and my cum leaving his lips.

“god I could eat you out for hours if you let me.” He smiles and I look at him mirroring his face.

“Told you I’d make you feel like a princess.” Chris says leaning in too kiss my lips softly.

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ratatioulle @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

[simonisferal]

somebody’s watching me — ghostface scaramouche x gn reader

warnings: stalking, nothing really happens ^^, small cliffhanger, mainly just dialogue tbh,

notes: i’ve never watched scream so im just going off of my dick and youtube summarys😭

the thirty-first of october was never a big deal to you. it just meant that more people would be wearing masks and others slutty cat costumes that showed more skin that you’d like.

kids would ring your door bell and even occasionally ding-dong-ditch your property, thinking it was funny.

as much as you’d enjoy the holiday in the comfort of your own home, your roommate was rather keen of going to a costume party that won’t be over till five in the morning—meaning: you’ll be home alone for the whole night.

that’s not a bad idea, right?

they left earlier than you’d like, around four in the afternoon to help set up some things. you didn’t really care—it just gave you more freedom, even thought you’ll probably just coop yourself in your room.

downstairs, in the kitchen, you had the liberty of foraging through the fridge to make yourself something. it hadn’t even been a few hours but you felt a little bit sceptic.

what type of party needs to be prepared for at four? maybe a big one, you reason, but the aching feeling didn’t leave. you’re going crazy.

you sigh, closing the fridge. there’s nothing good in there—let alone still fresh. the snacks in the pantry sound so good right now…

but before you could even glance over to the snacks, the phone rang. it wasn’t yours; it was a house-phone, built with the wires of your shared home.

you usually ignored calls but with the growing suspicion in your mind, you cautiously picked it up.

on the other line, at first, was only heavy breathing. it made you cringe just a tad bit. it was low and disturbing and you had the urge to just hang up right then, right there.

but you didn���t and then, “hey, y/n.”

you pause. you didn’t know the person but they knew you. it was… offputting, to say the least.

”hey….” ignoring the voice crack, you continue. “do i know you?”

there was an awkward silence and you subconsciously leaned in closer to hear better. the voice spoke once more, “maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” that’s so helpful.

you roll your eyes. ”that’s not creepy at all.” you considered hanging up, but what else did you have left to do in the house? you would’ve just been stuck there, alone.

the person on the phone spoke again, their voice hitching a bit—they might be using a voice-changer. “wanna take a guess?”

"do i want to take a guess at a rando calling me on halloween?" you lean on the wall, your boredom tempting you to play with the phone string.

there was another silence over the phone before a small laugh come out. it sounded slightly forced, like it was awkward.

"you didn't answer my question. come on—guess." their voice was eager, like a small child who just asked you 'guess what' with the biggest grin on their faces.

"i don't know—why don't you give me a hint?"

"but where's the fun in that? come on," they edged you on, "i'll give you three tries."

they wasn't taking no for an answer.

it was truly a dumb idea to stay on the line with them—they weren't even telling you their name. "fine," you submit to the 'game' they were playing.

"are you a certain ginger?"

"ajax? oh please... guess again." they knew one of your close friends, which now that you think about it, isn't a really hard thing to know.

"yelan?" it could be, but then again would she really waster her time with this? the answer wasn't definite, so it'd be best to get it out of the way.

"pulling out the big guns, huh?" they teased. their voice grew a tiny bit louder, as if they were pulling the phone closer to themselves, and it rang with a small echo as they spoke. "one try left, sweetie. make it count."

you scoff, a slight feeling of perception getting to you. the house felt cold and the phone felt like a bright fire, burning you but you couldn't pull away. "can you give me a hint? i'm working with nothing."

there was a pause over the phone. their breath stopped before it was wheezed out into a laugh.

"you can't figure it out? you're pulling my leg here..!"

you shouldn't be too stressed out over this. the mere conversation barely had lasted minutes but it had felt likes hours by now. you gulp and, with sweaty hands, grab the phone tighter against your ear. the feeling your being watched only increases and your eyes start darting places you'd never really consider suspicious.

the windows were faintly open but you could still see out of them. the front door didn't have a blind or curtain drooped over it so the view was certain. even the small gap in your floorboards felt nauseating.

"come on. give me a hint or i'll hang up." you threaten.

they were quick. "don't hang up."

"why not?"

an eerie silence came. not a slight hitch, no heavy breathing, no wheezed out voices.

the wind began to breeze, as if it knew you were terrified. the bushes shook and the trees grew faintly touched by it.

"what's your favorite scary movie?" as if you weren't scared enough, they had to ask that.

you shuddered. you pressed your back against the wall, hesitantly responding in a rushed whisper. "why do you ask?"

"it feels like i should ask." they chimed. "this probably feels like a horrir movie to you, eh?" there was a tiny chuckle at the end of their sentence which only made you scoff.

the voice over the phone continued. "you get a phone call from an unknown number, you pick up and it turns out to be a random person asking you questions. they start getting a little too personal and—well, you can see where i'm going with this."

you scoff, trying to maintain a look of confidence like you're not scared shitless. "that only happens in movies."

a pause was quick to come, again, before they talked. the playful and eager tone was gone, now just a taint of irritation and boredom. "does it, now?

look to the right."

your breath hitches. your back subconsciously tried to push your further against the wooden walls, trying to sink and hide from whatever was there. "i don't want to."

"i'm not asking."

"m-make me." you stutter out. it was definitely a bad idea to say that, but you didn't dwell on it for too long as they—or he, now spoke.

the voice changer was off, no—it wasn't coming from the phone. it was from your porch. the door was locked but he still had the decency to knock.

he seemed to ignore your indecent comment. "i'm gonna ask you again. you wanna take a guess at who i am before—eh, that'll spoil things..." he scoffed shortly after, a small shadow showing his motion from the late sun's set.

his voice was clear now and it was terrifying. how couldn't you have guessed was beyond your biggest problem.

"...scara. that's...you, isn't it."

"took you long enough, but i'm not one to hold grudges. just open the door and we'll talk." his tone was shallow. the words echoed in your ears like he was everywhere yet nowhere at the same time. just how crazy is he?

"leave me alone, scara. i don't want to talk." your hands slipped away from the phone, letting it sway in the air and taking a small step back. you might've forgotten he could see you—"y/n. where do you think you're going?

surely you're not running from me. come on, we're such old friends! you can't leave me hanging now."

his voice grew more impatient at your ignorance.

"y/n, come on! you can't run or hide from me. i know where to look. open the damn door or i'll force myself in there."

he scoffs, loud enough for you, wherever you are, to hear.

"shit—y/n, you bitch. i'm finding you one way or a-fucking-nother." he fiddles with the front door's doorknob. it was scrambled by the aggressive pounding on your door.

it was loud but you doubted your neighbors, gone for trick or treating in the richer neighborhoods, heard it. you were alone.

the voice didn't stop, only seemingly getting louder and louder. the knocks turned into bashes of force you would assume came from slamming his head against the wood. too much was happening and your heart didn't stop racing.

questions filled your mind as to why he was there.

why?!

surely what you did wasn't that bad! it was a prank, a silly old prank.

anyone could've pulled it—everyone else did do it, so why were you so different?!

why were you, maybe even, first?!

it startled you, every pulse, every kick, every scream, every echo, every slam, every fucking little sound he made unti it stopped.

it finally stopped.

you were okay.

he was gone.

he gave up.

he quit.

you're not in danger anymore.

you're safe to come out now. he won't hurt you.

the faint footsteps you heard back away from the carpeted floors only fueled your thinking. the floorboards creaked as you slightly shifted, even more as he walked off.

your breath was unnecessarily heavier now, even though you'd managed to calm down. the faint voices in your mind, repeating his words, only grew stronger.

the footsteps from the carpeted floor grew louder and louder, so had the breathing you figured out wasn't even your own, and the voices in your head weren't from your head.

they stopped soon enough, only leaving an echo from where you were hiding.

"you should've chosen a better hiding spot. remember those words?

you thought it was hilarious to watch me suffer, didn't you?"

the creaking and the silence stomps grew louder. the breathing was quieter as if trying to scare you more than you were already.

"too bad, you're as easy to stalk as you are easy to read. maybe we could've talk if you had answered the door."

[goqmir]

if you want to be a chef in this day and age you have to want to fuck the food. it used to be that you could get away with just desiring food-related sex-- in western saloons in the late 1800s, for instance, there were often gouges in the floorboards leading from the cook's favorite lovemaking bedroom in the inn to the nightly spot laid out for the salad bar trolley. Now, though, you have to have sexual urges about the food itself. If you don't, you will be easily outclassed by those overworked bakers who stop for condoms on the way home after they score some extra jelly-filled pastries from work, or the Michelin star chefs who have hours of mac and cheese stirring ASMR saved in a YouTube playlist. They simply want the food more than you do. Every chef with a decent career in the fine dining world has that not-so-hidden secret. If you can afford it, expensive dishes usually have wonderful texture-- just ask Gordon Ramsey and his fridge full of crab puffs-- but if you can't, I would recommend first starting out with something affordable you can easily keep on hand, with little preparation time and a decent texture. Of course, not all beginning chefs follow this advice-- a lot of dedicated chefs attempt to start fucking the food after learning about this subculture, leading to an alarming number of juice fetishists in the sous chef workforce. Unfortunately, many learn too late that you need substance in your food-- some decent texture to rub against-- or you won't get the same experience with food you need in the industry. By that time, of course, the juice kink has set in-- if you see a sous chef pouring apple cider into a pot of mac and cheese, you don't have to ask what it's adding to the flavor profile. A lot of popular picks are easy to reheat in the microwave, not quick to perish, and give a decent enough texture to be satisfying. A common pick is simply bread; filled donuts offer a pleasant pocket and satisfying orgasms; muffins are thick enough where working a hole from its bottom to its top is not only possible, but expected; almost all of the kitchen staff at Red Lobster leaves for the night with a few extra-soft biscuits in their bags. Others have more interesting taste: melty cheeses, the pointiest carrots and pineapples, the claws of lobsters, the most decadent helpings of whipped-cream topped parfaits. This all works fine for a number of years, until you notice your skill as a chef starting to plateau. Many chefs simply stay in this zone, as well enough preparers living happy lives at good jobs. But the best chefs, the headliners, those who prepare the best meals the world has to offer... they take it to the next level. They spend a good, long time preparing the dish they are covering in their cum up to four nights a week. Hours of baking, broiling, dirtied pots and pans. The food preparation is like foreplay, one of the most creative parts of sex and cooking alike. A good chef gets hotter with the pasta in the pot, sizzles along with the eggs in the pan, finds themselves on edge with each slice of the potato into the crock. Until finally, hours into the night, cock hard like a lamppost, after dicking down that beautifully prepared pasta frittata since the sun was still up, they orgasm all across its gorgeous pasta fillings and creamy cheesey insides and finally Understand food. After learning all of this, you may be tempted to go down to your neighborhood spot and ask the chef what they do to deepen the connection between themselves and their meals. Of course, if the neighborhood spot happens to be a bar, you'll probably actually have a line cook-- where instead, you should probably ask what they like most about putting their cigarettes out on twinks.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Choke On My D-- [3]

My night was filled with banter and laughter. If I'm being completely honest, it was even more amazing than I imagined it would be.

I grew up with the mindset of "do what makes the most money, not what you want to do." So actually enjoying my job for once feels different. I'm not sure if I'll be able to make enough with playing games online with my friends, but I'd be elated if I could because I genuinely enjoy it.

I don't want to go back to the way things were before.

Sally Face was quiet for most of the night, only really talking when directly spoken to. But what he didn't do— no matter what— was speak to me. Never addressed me. Never acknowledged me again. He ignored any attempts I made to bring him into our conversations (which didn't happen often, by the way) and he would even scoff at the sound of my voice.

But it didn't bother me all that much. Over the course of the night, I amassed thousands of new subscribers and followers between each one of my social media accounts. It's shocking to say the least, but very welcome. I'm not sure if those numbers will continue to grow or if this is just a spur of the moment excitement for The Faces fans, but I'm anxious to see where things go.

And Sally Face never called or texted "Lexi." Not once.

My guess is that I pissed him off enough to shut him up completely.

Larry, Ash, and Todd posted their recordings to Youtube. Sally hasn't yet, but going through comments has been quite interesting. I think, with the way people are enjoying me and Sally's arguing, I may be able to make something out of this.

One such thread of comments goes as so:

sllyfcefannn: Sally is a MENACE LMAO ashypoosbby: wtf is even happening sallyfacesallyfacee: he was quick with it too hahaaa larry4lyfe: Why is Sally such an asshole tho-- sxllyfxce28: nah they rlly dont need more people in The Faces. four is enough. bye violetviolence, go somewhere else. ashintheair: Honestly feel bad for VioletViolence. she's so sweet and she was so kind when she introduced herself and Sally was just such a dick. like imagine hearing this as a fan (which she is). so heartbreaking. toddsdaddy: agreed. he could've been a LOT more sensitive like??

I look through more comments beneath my own video, smiling the entire time as I get dressed for work. I'm still stuck wearing glasses, but I don't mind. I'm used to them for right now and there isn't much that could break my excitement of having people actually defend me and enjoy my video.

It's fortifying.

My shift is a short 8-12 that goes by even more quickly with the aid of tons of comments and likes giving me something to look forward to throughout the day.

As I'm walking home and enjoying the afternoon sun, Ash calls me.

With a startled flinch, I pull my phone from my pocket and quickly accept the call when I realize who it is. Why would she be calling?

"Y/n-- sorry, I guess I should call you Vi now, right?" Ash curses quietly then starts over again. "Vi! Hi, how are you, guess what!!!"

I smile, unable to stop a small giggle from slipping past my lips. Ash is so precious. She can't hide her true intentions-- she only called me to tell me about something interesting.

"I'm well, Ash. Most of that is thanks to you," I reply happily, ingesting the tempting sight of various stores around me. Downtown LA. "What's up?"

Ash practically squeals, a shuffling sound coming from the other end of the call. "Guess who's going to fucking Vegas!?"

My eyebrows raise and my heart skips a beat as I pause my steps. Ash heading to Vegas? That's ridiculously close. Even if it's still hours away, the thought of finally being near her again after all these years makes my heart race to the point that I feel a bit lightheaded. 

"What? Really?" I breathlessly ask, looking down at the bright cement beneath my feet. My stomach feels tight and a lump begins to form in my throat. I really want a chance to see Ash, though I'm not sure I have the money to take an unplanned trip to Las Vegas...

"YES!" She screams again. I can even hear her feet pittering around her room-- the thought of her running in excitement makes my elation grow to insane heights. I feel like running through the streets and screaming myself. "We'll be going to Vegas in three weeks! It's for an exclusive party at some club. I got you a ticket. I'll send it!"

My brows scrunch together. She got me into some VIP event? "How did you get a ticket for me? And who's we-- do you mean me and you?"

"Ooo, fun question!" Ash whispers morbidly. "The host of the event asked me about you first. Didn't know if you'd be into going somewhere so social! But they love your intro into the tech and gaming world. Especially the tension between you and Sal! That part was easy. I hardly had to say a word." She giggles proudly to herself whereas I wince. 

I don't want Sally and I to be some kind of spectacle to the world. I don't want people to know me as that random girl that argues with Sally Face because he just can't help but hate her guts. I want to be that nice girl that plays games. I want to be VioletViolence and I want to be known for it.

"And by 'we' I mean all of us! You, me, Larry, Todd, and Sal!"

I chew the inside of my cheek, feeling unwelcome tears sting my eyes as my heart drops into the acidic depths of my stomach. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips as I think of how to tell Ash that I'm absolutely not going to Vegas with The Faces. 

"That sounds... fun," I murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and tilting my head to the sky to stop my tears from falling. "I appreciate the invite, but I don't think I... have the funds to go." My claim isn't exactly a lie, but I'm almost thankful for it right now. I can't go to Las Vegas if Sally is going to be there.

We don't get along. The two of us are a ticking bomb-- except none of us know how long the countdown is before it blows. It's an issue. I don't want to reunite with my friends then immediately jump into arguments and fights with Sally. That would be so embarrassing for me and for Larry, Todd, and Ash. I do not want that.

I'm forgetting that the most important reason why I can't go to Vegas is because Sal knows the face behind VioletViolence. He would hate 'Lexi' if he were to find out that she and VioletViolence are one. I want him to like at least one thing about me even if he doesn't know that it's me.

Then again, why should I care if he dislikes every version of me? He's shown his distaste in various ways. He's been a complete ass, so why defend him? Why do I want him to like me?

"Y/n-- Vi," Ash corrects herself with a hiss, effectively pulling me from my thoughts. "I'll cover your trip. Just, please, come see us. The guys miss you."

"Not all of them." I laugh humorlessly, kicking a pebble at my feet.

"You know what I mean. Sally has no say in what happens anyway. We won't let him bother you-- just come!" Ash pleads. If she were with me right now, I just know she would be grabbing my hands and giving me her puppy dog eyes.

My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip with a force I can't control. I crack my knuckles, scuff my foot on the ground. I feel apprehensive-- I don't want to have to tell Ash the truth on why I don't want to go, but I know it's getting close to that.

"I don't want anyone to see my face, Ash. It's not a good idea for me to go..." I trail off, picking at the skin on my fingers and hoping that she'll at least accept that.

"We can figure something out, Vi. Just say yes and we'll handle everything else when the time comes, but I can promise you now that your identity will remain a secret. No one will know who you are." Ash tries to bargain, her soft and soothing voice nearly persuading me.

I squeeze my eyes shut. "I can't, Ash." Gosh, I don't want to upset her. "You know how I feel about you paying for me. Plus, there's really no way to hide myself from everyone. Think about it. And..." She'll fight me on everything else because she wants this so bad, so I'll throw the truth in. "I don't want to be around Sally. It would be bad for all of us. Deep down, you know that, too."

Ash sighs disappointedly, but I can tell she isn't going to push me anymore. "I understand. I'm sorry if I was crossing a line. I just... I really miss you. It's been nearly a decade. I really fucking wish Sal wasn't such an ass either. He's never acted that way before. He's normally a very soft, humble guy. I don't know what his problem is. I'm... I'm sorry, Y/n."

I don't know what his issue with me is, but I believe Ash now that I've gotten the chance to talk with Sal-- no ties to anyone, just the two of us. He didn't know a thing about me and because of that, I got to see a side of him I didn't expect. He was sweet, kind, and giving. I enjoyed that personality. He was open and happy to get to know me.

"I believe you. Maybe it's just me. No matter who I am, he just has something against me." I lick my dry lips, an iron taste on my tongue. I must have bitten my lip too hard. "And thank you for understanding. I do appreciate the invite and I miss you more than anything, but it's not quite time yet."

"That's okay, babe. I'll wait for you forever. And Sal shouldn't have anything against you. You do not deserve that, not with how incredibly precious you are." Ash perks up a bit, a smile in her voice.

Hearing her more upbeat tone makes my worrisome thoughts and racing heart calm down a bit. "Oh, well. People will hate. It's whatever."

"He'll come around eventually," Ash says softly. She's quiet for a moment then says, "Well, hey. We're getting online again tonight if you want to join."

I take a deep breath, looking up at the road ahead of me. There are people everywhere. It's a beautiful day. "Yea, that sounds good. I'll be free all afternoon."

"Great! Just check Discord every once in a while. We'll figure out a time and a game there! You gonna try Twitch tonight?" Ash asks.

"I think I will," I answer. It's time I start going where I'll get money-- if I get money. Doesn't hurt to put everything into swing though. "You think I have a chance with this, Ash?" I ask, my voice betraying my vulnerability. Truthfully, I'm afraid of trying and failing at this because I truly loved  playing with everyone last night.

"Oh, honey," Ash's voice is gentle and comforting like a nice, warm hug. One that I desperately wish I could get from her. "I know you've got this. You already have over eight thousand new subscribers on Twitch. That's a fantastic start. It took me a while to get there. Not to mention, people love you. I love you. Larry and Todd love each side of you."

A genuine smile pulls at my lips and I find myself fighting off tears again. Ash reminds me of my dad-- they are both just so easy to talk to. I feel like I can tell them anything. I'd admit every one of my darkest secrets to both of them and know I wouldn't be judged. To me, that's one of the truest, purest forms of love. 

All of my secrets except for the fact that I've already met Sally Face. 

"Thank you, Ash. It's all thanks to you. I love you so much and I can't wait to continue this journey with you and the guys," I say gratefully. And you know what, I can't be too angry about Sally because our arguments got me some traction, too. "Even Sally," I decide to add.

"That's the spirit!" Ash claps her hands, the sound reverberating through my ears. "I'll see you online tonight, 'kay?"

"See you then. I love you," I tell her, waiting for her to hang up the call with an unbeatable, winning smile on my face. I'm looking forward to getting home. 

"Je t'aime, mon couer!" Ash blows a kiss then ends the call, leaving me alone in the Los Angeles wilderness-- nothing I'm not already used to.

I feel happier than I did at the beginning of our call. Ash was reassuring and just as helpful as she always is. Even if I won't get to see her in Vegas, I'm happy knowing that she'll be close by.

Walking further down the street, I look between various stores and window-shop. There are tons of nice things. For example, a tiara and crystal store-- what a combination! 

The sun beats down on me in what would normally be an uncomfortable way, but today, it feels restoring. The ridiculous heat feels like a sign of a new start.

A glance to my right causes me to do a sudden double take though and I find myself distracted from any previous thoughts. 

That's something interesting. I walk closer to a shop, letting my eyes wander over all the goodies inside the window. Of all things, half of an answer sits before me. An answer that I never would have come up with on my own-- and yet, here it is. All and only because I realized that this could conceal me. Maybe not at this exact moment, but it has potential. And I want it.

Without a second thought, I pull my eyes away from the window and gaze at the door to the shop instead. I don't worry about funds, I don't think about how odd it'll be for me to keep this in my room-- unused. But I need it because this gives me an actual opportunity to go visit Ash, Larry, and Todd someday.

It's a mask store.

I walk in, listening to the door jingle behind me. The store is small, but very personal and unique. The walls are black and littered with various masks all with different styles, colors, and designs.

Beads and other decorations hang from the black ceiling, adding a bit of color to the void above. It's only a bit of decoration to aid the music in the room, but it works incredibly well.

The music is in a foreign language, but it seems to be a mix of pop and rock. I'm pretty into it.

I slowly walk further into the shop, gazing left and right, just trying to decide where to look first and doing my very best not to tap my foot to the beat of the music. Standing here looking overwhelmed makes me me feel awkward and out of place. Should I really be in here at all? It's probably better if I wait and think on this a bit.

My question is immediately answered when I feel a little nudge on my arm. I glance over my shoulder, feeling an urge to scoot to the side in case I'm blocking anyone, but a lady stands behind me with a smile on her face and a mask in her hand. 

I feel like I've just barely decided on doing this, like life is moving past me at double the speed. To see this lady standing before me with a beautiful mask in her hands feels like a sign, though.

"I had to grab it in when you walked in," she says. "I think this one will suit your face nicely."

The woman has salt and pepper hair in a loose, messy bun atop her head. Her skin is a gorgeous caramel shade and her face is littered with little freckles. And her eyes-- a welcoming, inebriating color that reminds me so much of smoky quartz. Absolutely stunning.

She's a bit shorter than me, too. But she seems to notice my hesitance, patting my arm with her free hand. "Why don't you take a look at it, honey?"

My mouth opens, my lips dry as I try to find the right words to stay. But my brain is empty, so I snap my mouth shut and gently take the mask from her instead. 

It seems like almost an exact replica of Phantom of the Opera's Red Death mask. The one from the live action movie with Gerard Butler. 

It would only cover from my forehead down to under my nose, but it's gorgeous. There are grooves in it to mimic the shape of a skull and it's a deep, dark red. 

My heart feels like it's just participated in a NASCAR race. This feels so right. It feels perfect-- like all the stars have aligned just for me in this moment. My stomach feels queasy in the best kind of way like the time I overate for my 21st birthday. I felt full and surrounded by love, though I knew better than to crack open a beer because I knew I'd throw up.

So I use that little experience to remind me that, yes, it feels right-- but I shouldn't push my luck. This will be my one thing for now, then I'll see what I can do in the future.

"Um," I murmur softly, tilting my head toward the woman with a hesitant smile. "Would you happen to have this one in purple?"

The woman leans toward me, her hands behind her back and her eyes narrowed as her smile grows into a sly grin. "I have four. What kind of purple?"

I beam at her, finding that maybe pushing my luck a bit more will be beneficial. It'll end some day, but this moment feels lucky enough to me.

The woman takes me to her counter then fishes out her four masks. They all have the same style, but their colors are much different than the red one in my hands.

There's a pastel one with neon green designs, a bright purple mask with glitter in different places, then a pink and purple tie dyed one.

But the mask that wins my vote is a dark purple-- so dark, it would look black in dim lighting-- with gold highlights in just the right places. It screams me-- screams VioletViolence. 

I run my fingers over each nook, cranny, and hill of the mask. I feel it out, falling deeper and deeper in love with the creation until I feel an unignorable yearning deep within my soul. I need this. Somehow, I feel like purchasing this mask will be life changing for me.

I take a deep breath, feeling my eyes widen as I get lost in the beauty of pure, undeniable art. "How much?" I ask softly.

"For you, fifty." Her voice is soft, but determined. So I look up, noting the content smile on her face, almost like she's proud of my decision.

"And..." I trail off, gulping as her smoky gaze meets mine. "How much would it be for someone else?"

"One twenty." Her reply is immediate and honest, her ashy eyes glinting in the dim lighting of the shop.

I definitely don't have the money to pay for a $120 mask. $50 is insanely reasonable, but I can't take such a discount just for... I don't know why I've even been given a discount.

Choking on air for a moment, I try to recover and bargain a bit more. "Ma'am, I can't take this for fifty. Let me at least give you a bit more than that."

The lady leans onto the counter separating us, lifting a hand and pointing at me. "See, I knew you were the type to say something like that. Honestly, I'd give it to you for free but I feel like that would bother you for eternity." She laughs, the raspy sound filling the air around us.

"You're right." I smile at her, placing the mask on the counter. "But seriously, I can't take something worth so much without paying the correct amount."

The woman tilts her head. "Alright, your choice. $50, or just take it. But you can't walk out of here without it."

I narrow my eyes, grinning slightly. I appreciate her kindness. I'm not sure why she's showing so much compassion toward me, but I can't complain. Maybe life just decided to give me a break today.

I pull a couple bills from my wallet and slide them over, making sure to put $10 into her tip can. I don't have much, but I can't give her nothing, especially when she's nice enough to give this to me for $50.

"If I'm ever famous," I say in a giggly voice. "I'll thank you for bringing my character to life."

The woman's smile brings life to my already enthusiastic body. "Then tell me your name so I can look for you, sweetheart. I know you'll get recognition one day."

I swallow thickly, feeling my heart swell with so much appreciation for this random woman who decided to be so kind to me. But what do I tell her? If I am famous one day, she can't know my real name because I won't go by my real name. But, she knows my face and I don't want her to associate that with VioletViolence.

I watch her for a few moments, debating in my head. She watches me patiently, the caring smile never leaving her lips.

So I cut off my thoughts and lean on the counter too. "Can you keep my face a secret if I tell you the name I go by?"

"I don't even remember what you look like," she says, waving a hand in front of her and closing her eyes.

I laugh, unable to stop myself from patting her hand affectionately. Each little bit of fear in my bones gets shredded into indecipherable pieces. Maybe this'll come back to bite me in the future, but I'm not concerned about it right now. Plus, what proof will she be able to show? I doubt she'll even remember my face. I take a glance at the empty store behind me before speaking. "I go by VioletViolence online," I say cheerily. "I'm friends with that group called The Faces."

The woman's brows furrow in shock. "Really? My son loves The Faces. He hasn't told me about you." She smiles again though, patting my hand back. "I'll definitely look out for you, love. I have the utmost faith in your abilities. May you achieve all that you long for."

With a little sweet pull at my heart strings, I squeeze her hand in mine. "Thank you, ma'am. That means the world to me." I pinch my lips together to contain the ugly crying that's bound to set in later. This visit was definitely a sign for me to keep moving forward.

This random lady with no name has managed to give me so much self-pride and hope. I'll make sure to thank her generously if and when I can.

She puts my mask in a safe, pristine, crisp box then bags it, handing it to me with a smile and well wishes before sending me on my way.

My walk home is even more vibrant and enjoyable than it was before, but it's unfortunately quick.

Dad isn't home when I walk into our apartment. Figures, though. Most of the time, he's out working late on projects or attending meetings. Hopefully he'll be able to come home tonight.

I set my bag down on the table and walk into the kitchen to find something to eat. It's almost two in the afternoon-- I've been fucking starving myself. So I decide to heat up some leftover pizza from lunch yesterday and pull my phone out of my pocket for the first time in an hour.

My phone is filled with Discord notifications. I'm going to have to turn that off. I'm a private person and so many names and tons of information slapping me in the face makes me feel uneasy.

But I notice my name brought up and the queasiness falls away for a moment.

LARBEARAWR: i bet vi is so hot LARBEARAWR: prove em right baby

T0DDLES12: Don't objectify her, Larry.

LARBEARAWR: im not objectifying her im just saying i KNOW shes gotta be hot.

SALLYFʌCɛ: she's not hot.

ASHYPOO <3: Shut up, Sal!!

SALLYFʌCɛ: you need to get into the habit of using my stage name, ash, jeez.

LARBEARAWR: VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

I roll my eyes, typing back a quick response with a smile pulling at my lips. I was going to ignore it, but Sally's claim made me change my mind. I'll be damned if he goes on thinking I'm not hot. Because I... well, am I hot?

I guess I'll let Larry be the judge of that.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: who said I'm not hot???

SALLYFʌCɛ: that'd be me. you got something to say?

VIOLETVIOLENCE: yup. you a bitch.

T0DDLES12: Laughing my ass off.

LARBEARAWR: fuck todd just use abbreviations damn that's weird LARBEARAWR: we wanna know ur laughing but not REALLY like be a normal fcking person

I giggle over Todd and Larry's banter. They're quite a duo. Larry is just so informal and then Todd... well, he's the exact opposite. How have they been able to get along for this long?

With a sigh, I chew on my nails and debate sending them a photo of myself. Not my face, of course, but something just to get everyone off my back for a bit. 

The last time I thought Sally was far away from me, he ended up being in front of my face. To say that having to serve him just once caused me to develop some paranoia is an understatement-- so if I'm going to do this, I'm going to change my clothes. I don't need anyone recognizing what I'm wearing.

With a sigh and shaky hands, I shut my phone off and take slow steps to my bedroom. The door feels like it weighs two tons-- though that's my own doing. Instead of just telling them that they don't need to know what I look like, I'm making things harder on myself because I feel the need to prove Sal wrong. But what if he's not wrong?

My brows furrow as I contradict myself-- that doesn't even matter because Sal-- Sally-- is wrong. I'm totally hot. I have to be.

I skip over to my closet with some pep in my step, rifling through shirts and immediately throwing Sally's merch to the ground. I might as well throw that away. 

Or...

A petty little smile pulls at my lips. I lift the hoodie and throw it over my shoulder. It's blue-- the color of his hair-- with SALLY FACE diagonally written across the front in an almost scratchy black font. 

I grab Larry's merch hoodie too-- the same one that Sal-- dammit, Sally-- wore the day he walked into my diner. Larry's hoodie is all black with some fun red designs running down the sleeves and his name-- also in red-- in big bubble letters on the front. His popular saying, "Zesty, Voluptuous Mommy Milkers" is on the back of the hoodie and that's part of the reason why I bought it in the first place.

Then, I just grab a plain pair of skinny black jeans and leather combat boots.

I set my phone against the drawers in my room and throw on Sally's hoodie first. I take one, singular picture of me, from the neck down, flicking off the camera. Then, I switch to Larry's hoodie and take one with a thumbs up, then another with my back towards the camera while pointing at his ridiculous catch phrase.

My hands shake and my mouth goes dry as I load the first photo in Sally's hoodie before pressing send. My finger hovers over the button, never touching the screen.

Honestly, I'm horrified. What is he going to say? What are they all going to say?

SALLYFʌCɛ: VioletViolence is a pussy-- clearly. she doesn't want us to see that she's actually some old guy preying on younger hotties. 

ASHYPOO <3: Dude, stop being such a dick. Do you not remember that I've met Vi like... hundreds of times??

SALLYFʌCɛ: you sure this is actually her? what proof do you have, huh?

There's my cue. With a little guilty smile, I press send.

The chat is quiet for an uncomfortably long time. I'm still in Larry's hoodie and my anxiety is so bad that I lift the collar of it and pull the fabric over my face, sniffing the washing detergent Dad has used since I was a child. It's comforting and nostalgic for the moment.

I hear a notification so I glance over the edge of the hoodie, seeing a message from Todd.

T0DDLES12: See, she's not ugly. T0DDLES12: Wait, is that Sal's merchandise?

Yes, Todd. Yes, it is. Thank you a thousand times over for taking the bait. This is working out better than I thought it would and my nervousness is gone as quick as it came.

I put the other two photos of me in Larry's merch then press send, typing out:

VIOLETVIOLENCE: sorry, wrong pic! here's what i meant to send <3

My heart skips a beat and I push out a big breath, feeling heat crawl up my cheeks as I wait for someone else to type in the chat.

LARBEARAWR: hot as fuck. 10/10. BARK RUFF QUACK RIBBIT AWOOGA

I knew he'd like that. A giggle falls from my lips and I cradle my phone, reading over Larry's message repeatedly. He's being a bit extra and really exaggerating, but I appreciate it regardless.

ASHYPOO &lt;3: Just as pretty as I remember <333333 ASHYPOO <3: Send your tit!! ASHYPOO <3: Tat** hehehehe

Funny, but that's a no-go. The only person who's seen my tattoo is Dad-- but what's the issue in sending it? Why am I afraid? Because I'll be showing skin? It shouldn't be that big of a deal. Why am I insecure over it?

ASHYPOO &lt;3: I'd love to prove who you are to Sal-- but you don't have to send if you don't want to!

Ah, well, that's quite an incentive. It would prove who I am to Sally. He knows what I have as my tattoo, so it would be a clear indication that I'm not lying.

But I decide to joke with them a bit before finding out how to get a clear picture of the tattoo on my side.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: want bikini pics of me too ash??? what's next-- my titties??????? VIOLETVIOLENCE: oh sorry, i mean my zesty, voluptuous mommy milkers???????????

LARBEARAWR: please LARBEARAWR: god, please

ASHYPOO &lt;3: I mean... will you be upset if I agree with Lar?

T0DDLES12: I'm down for Vi's breasts. Can I get hands in the chat?

A true, genuine laugh reverberates through my room. It takes a moment for me to realize that I'm the one who did it-- fuck, I love my friends.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: one sec

I move to lift Larry's hoodie over my head. I'll have to move my shirt too since the tattoo is right on my bra line. Sometimes I regret getting it in such a hard to reach place.

My phone suddenly blows up with notifications and I nearly drop it onto the ground at my feet. I flinch back, looking down at my phone with furrowed brows and wide eyes.

LARBEARAWR: WUT???? LARBEARAWR: TITTIES??? MILKERS???? LARBEARAWR: B-B-B-BREASTS???? LARBEARAWR: UR SENDING THEM VI????

T0DDLES12: ^^^ Really? I thought we were only joking around. Let me prepare. I'll pull Neil in for this one.

ASHYPOO &lt;3: Woah, holy hell-- Vi's sweet, juicy titties? I've been waiting for this day my entire life.  ASHYPOO <3: Let me get my camera ready-- screenshots just won't do. This is going in a picture book. I'm making an album just for your titties. Dedicated to the one and only VioletViolence. 

Oh, fuck. Seems I didn't specify what I meant. 

VIOLETVIOLENCE: NO VIOLETVIOLENCE: sorry, i did NOT mean titties. just sending my tat.

LARBEARAWR: :( LARBEARAWR: ook but can we get titty pics 2??????

VIOLETVIOLENCE: maybe. VIOLETVIOLENCE: for you ;)

I love this banter with Larry-- he's such a funny guy. I enjoy talking with him, Todd, and Ash. And speaking of which, Sally's been pretty quiet.

LARBEARAWR: O_O LARBEARAWR: r we flirting????? is that what this is???? LARBEARAWR: omg vi *bites lip* r u trna smash? me????

I snicker, ignoring the messages and maneuvering my body and phone around to try and get a clear picture of my tattoo. Minutes pass though and I find myself growing frustrated over the fact that I cannot get a good picture of it for the life of me. No matter what.

I set my phone down again, getting some major deja vu over the fact that I have to do this again. My brain is on overdrive as I throw my worries to the wind and just lift my shirt and bra strap, a photo being taken as the timer counts down on my phone.

When I pull my phone close to my face to inspect the picture, I wince and shut the device off for a second. My "fuck it" moment was a little too much. There's a good bit of underboob in that photo and I don't think I can send it.

My phone vibrates with another notification, so I carefully glance back at it. I haven't even sent the photo and I feel embarrassed by it.

ASHYPOO &lt;3: Tit jokes aside, you really are beautiful, Vi. Inside and out! Never forget it, mi corazón <33333

That makes me warm up a bit and a smile works its way onto my lips again. Damn, Ash. She always knows what to say to make me feel better.

Suddenly, sending the photo doesn't feel as terrible to me. Sure, it still makes me nervous because I'm showing off so much skin, including skin that not a single person has ever seen-- aside from past boyfriends. It feels scary, but I know I can trust my friends and they'll even hype me up over it.

So I send another message before linking the photo.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: omg <3333 ash, don't talk to me in other languages i will melt over you. but seriously, thank you so much. i love you

I quickly send the photo before I can think too hard about it.

Anxious and debating on deleting it as soon as the picture goes through, I send more messages in a panic. I feel the need to pull at the roots of my hair, chew on my lips, crack my knuckles-- all of my nervous habits. My skin is burning hot and my legs won't stop moving.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: undertitties VIOLETVIOLENCE: fuck this scares me ngl VIOLETVIOLENCE: never sent half-titty pics before in my life VIOLETVIOLENCE: #tittypicvirgin

My friends are quick to reply now, filling my endlessly frantic brain with love.

LARBEARAWR: FUCK YES TITTIES LARBEARAWR: rlly tho, ur tat is super nice. titties too. hair is pretty and fluffy and i wanna run my fingers through it like ur a fairy r smthn

ASHYPOO &lt;3: GORGEOUS BEAUTIFUL LOVE OF MY LIFE!!! ASHYPOO <3: Awe, my baby's first titty pic <3 look at you growing up!

T0DDLES12: Voluptuous breasts, indeed. I love the meaning behind your tattoo. I wonder what it means to the band.

What did I ever do to deserve such amazing friends? Never did I think I'd have anyone care for me and support me so dearly, yet here are three. Three people who have been here for me since we were kids. And they still haven't left my side.

Their sweet words make a beaming smile form on my face and it's the sole reason behind my achy cheeks, but it's so worth it.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: guys :,) you're so sweet. thank you for all of this

ASHYPOO &lt;3: Stahppp! There's no need to thank us, we're just telling the truth.

LARBEARAWR: word LARBEARAWR: where's sal btw? ur missing tits bro LARBEARAWR: r u wanking off to vi's pic in ur hoodie r smthng

Oh, shit. My eyes widen as I stare at Larry's message in shock. I can't believe he said that. But I'm also really happy that he did say it. This puts the heat on Sally and gives me something to cackle over.

Like he hasn't been gone for the past five or so minutes, Sally's username pops up in the chat.

SALLYFʌCɛ: eat shit, larry.

My cackling starts immediately. I thought it'd be something I'd do in the dead of night as I wait for sleep to take me, but it's come early. All because it is painfully obvious that Sally's message is guilty denial.

At least, I hope.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: it's okay to be honest, sally. masturbation is healthy!

His response is immediate again. He's been close to his phone.

SALLYFʌCɛ: i'm not even joking right now, i fucking hate you violetfucking whoever you are. 

VIOLETVIOLENCE: awe but i totally wore your hoodie so you'd fall in love with me :(

This feels so good. I wanted a reaction and I'm getting it. Sally's messages fill me with adrenaline. I can practically feel my blood rushing through my veins. I can smell the anger in his text. I can taste his rage from all the way across the United Sates. It feels so incredibly invigorating.

SALLYFʌCɛ: choke on my damn dick.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: is that a threat or a promise? i have a pretty resilient throat. no gagging.

I send a thumbs up and lose it on my bedroom floor. I roll onto my back, laughing so hard that tears spill from the corners of my eyes. I find that with every single day of being close to The Faces, I feel so much better. I feel too good even if Sally's a dick. I feel so damn good that I trick myself into thinking that I'd be okay without my antidepressants. That's dangerous.

The chat is silent and I feel like I'm on top of the world. That's a clear win for me.

SALLYFʌCɛ has left the channel.

Oh, well, shit. I didn't exactly mean for that to happen.

---------

A/N::::: heheheheheheh i hope this is an enjoyable chapter <333 

it was kinda hard to get out. im such a huge fan of scenes with sal so i have to remind myself to be patient with these boring parts! i kinda hate the middle of this chapter, but i hope you guys like it!

i've been busy between caring for my cat (he is well!), doing school work, battling tummy sickness, and my allergies. but i'm working my hardest to fulfill my promises to you guys! next is maybe today! 

when do you guys think sal and y/n will finally meet again since she isn't going to vegas? i'd love to hear your thoughts :3

as always, i love you all with my entire heart! sleep well/have a wonderful day! you complete my life <3333

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

currently thinking abt slightly yandere nanami's obsession with a youtuber who cooks/bakes. he found out about you while trying to find a new recipe to try, he ends up watching one of your videos on youtube.

he's hooked immediately. not only are you sweet and adorable, your recipes are delicious. he consistently looks forward to your uploads. you've managed to worm your way into his routine

(gonna make this chubby reader bc im self indulgent) his heart beats a lil faster every time you say your intro, it feels like your talking to him. his eyes roam your curvy body. your soft tummy and arms, and he wants to kiss your soft, round cheeks.

aaddfghlflfl i just-

SQUEEEEEEEEE GOD but let's be real, Nanami would do this even if he wasn't yandere 🤧💕 ok we're gonna do chubby reader bc i have THOUGHTS

CW: mainly fluff, a lil bit of smut, brief mentions of ppl bullying reader on the internet

• Can you imagine it? Nanami seeming like this cool, uninterested guy on the surface but he's secretly a fanboy aldjoajd

• He's watched ALL your videos, yes even the first ones where your camera was shit and you were doing tutorials on simple foods like mac n cheese and cookies

• The first thing he notices is yours looks (obviously), your round cheeks and pudgy arms, even your small chubby hands 💕

• You look so soft, so plush and warm. He imagines that it would feel like heaven to rest his head in your lap, your fingers combing through his hair after a long grueling workday

• But your looks aren't the only thing that draws him in: nonono, you are just so bubbly and cute and sweet in your videos and he knows that part of it is just a persona but he thinks you'd be even sweeter in real life, especially if you were gifting him a plate of cookies, especially if he held the door open for you and helped you carry your groceries 💕

• He watches your videos to destress, to relax at night and on the weekends, a glass of wine in hand and a small tray of snack foods

• He can't stop himself from smiling when he watches you. He loves the closeups of your hands, still so pretty and delicate despite being covered in dough and flour

• He wishes he could kiss each of your fingers, your palm, your wrist, moving up your arm, savoring your cheery giggles before he reached your plush lips and kissed you gently

• He's almost certain the two of you will never meet in real life, but he still daydreams about it, about making meals together and sharing kisses and licking off the drop of whipped cream on your cheek

• He always feels guilty when his thoughts about you turn sexual: you're not even doing anything sexual! You're just being cute and perfect and sharing a recipe for apple fritters

• But his mind always wanders when you lean forward and he gets a peek down your shirt, when you lick white frosting from your fingers, when you take a bite of the final dish and moan—

• He's jerked off to your videos before (which he's also ashamed of). It's usually the ones where you show more skin than usual, when you put on makeup, or when your commentary is full of unintentional double entendres ("goodness, this is bigger than I thought it'd be", "geez, I'm gonna need to use both hands for this", i don't know if I can fit this whole thing [bite] into my mouth, but I'm gonna try!", "oh my god, it's so thick", "don't force it in all at once, ya gotta be patient and gentle")

• Your voice is just so soothing, sweet, honey dripped words gracing his ear followed by a soft moan when you taste test it; how could he not masturbate to you when you're so tempting??

• He always feels guilty afterwards, but he does feel a bit less stressed which is nice

• He's such a white knight in your comments it's fuckin CRINGEY!!!

• Some troll will show up and be a dick, saying that you'd lose a lot of weight if you stopped your cooking show or how you'd be so much cuter if you were skinny (which?? Bby, its so obvious you're just mad you can't fuck me, like JESUS go take a NAP 🤧)

• Nanami sees these comments and his vision goes RED

• How dare they?? Who could ever say such mean things about you? You're literally perfect, who do they think they are 😡

• He's reporting comments left and right and has gotten into one too many arguments with these nimrods to the point where he has to just stop looking at comments bc he just gets too heated

• He decides to just leave nice encouraging comments to combat the mean ones bc let's be honest, you're so much better than these haters and they're not worth any of your time

• The first time you liked one of his encouraging comments he almost had a heart attack sksksksk

• Had to sit down with his hand on his chest for a full five minutes

• He thinks he can die happy now that you've noticed him, nothing could ever top this 🤧

• Well... that's what he thinks until a certain someone becomes his new neighbor and introduce themselves, greeting him with homemade banana bread 😳🥺💕

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

MUWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA, WRIIIIITHE IN AGONYYYYYY 😈 (/ref)

I kneeeeewwwwwwww the brainworms would integrate themselves into yours as well. Evil hand steeple coupled with over the rim lethal villain stare and grin combo. It's all inclusive!! Hands rated E for Everyone, so to speak.

AAAAAAAAAAA BUT YOUR PORTION- I AM

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Old man Peaches 🍑😭💔 he was like a kooky (/aff) old grandpa towards reader and their ratpack group of street urchins <//3

the one day you and yvette don't pull up to the function (you'd both gotten strikes - both figuratively and physically on the hands. with a very thick wooden ruler :(( - so you guys weren't able to make your grand escapade until after the fact) you'd lost such a dear part of your heart... It was just. Ripped from you. It was so, so painful.

It never stops hurting. Even til presently at the Manor. Some days are better than others. Some worse. On those days where your head and heart overtake your very sense of existence, you become so quiet, quiet as a mouse. Sometimes you barely make it out of bed and stay in your room the whole day.

Those times are different. You'd already taken to staying in your room if nowhere else (excusing all the secret hideouts you've charmed your own, courtesy of Jayjay), but even then, it's open and welcome for your newfound family.

They come in and the curtains are pulled back, a couple of the pets are resting on the foot of your bed or on their personal fluffy mats, you'd have some old records playing or a YouTube channel/video that Timmy recommended playing on the TV, and you'd always be lounging about - doing your own thing.

Quiet, yes, but open and mellow for the better part. Just vibing.

So. When you're having a bad day... Everyone can tell :((. Especially Jason. It's like the sunshine that had reappeared back into the Manor just, disappears. Snuffed out by overhead, ominous storm clouds.

After he stopped by to visit once, couldn't find you in the usual out-in-the-open places you'd frequent and was debriefed by a worried Alfred about your current state of being...

and you looked half dead curled up under your comforter - eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears and an expression so filled with sorrow and pain that it made his heart ache -

Jay made you promise to call him up if you ever felt yourself going down again. He'd be there for you. You don't have to suffer through it alone.

It's tempting, yes. He pets your head gently, his own eyes looking a bit glassier than they did a second ago. Especially when it's the only way you know - secluding yourself, licking your wounds in solitude because you're the only one who gives a damn... Trust him, he gets it.

But you've got them now. Dick, Damian, Cass, Alfred, Steph, Duke, Babs, Timbo... Bruce. (And the only reason he hesitates with Bruce and names him last is because he's still salty about the Sidekick Contemplation Situation lol)

At the very least, you've got him.

And he'll take care of you.

He had gently opened the blankets and- only after being given the green light- slipped underneath with you and scooped you close to his chest. And trust me- being hugged by Jason Todd's big, burly arms and cradled to his solid bosom emanates the feeling of Peak Safety™. It swallowed you whole- his embrace- but you'd much rather drowned in your brother's arms than the spiraling void of thoughts that made you want to disappear with Old Man Peaches.

At least you knew Jayjay wouldn't let you drown. Wouldn't let you die.

"Never." He says, sure and steady, and his voice rumbles through his chest and into your ears. You hadn't realized you'd said it out loud.

He smelled fresh out of a shower: vanilla body wash and a spritz of some soft cologne, but ever with the undertones of leather and cigarettes. It was all comforting nonetheless because that was Jason. That was your Jayjay.

That was your brother.

If you sobbed into his neck that quiet afternoon, Jason didn't say anything against it. Didn't dare. Just held you even tighter, whispered warm reassurances and sympathy, peppered your hairline with kisses and rubbed a large, warm hand up and down your back.

You didn't stop, not for a long while. You never allowed yourself to cry like this before, but here... You just couldn't help yourself.

You let go, came so ungraciously undone, right in your brother's arms.

Cried so much you passed out a couple times- all to which Jason hurriedly leaned up and called Alfred, wiping your hair out of your face and cupping it gently to feed you some water and a nibble of some homemade biscuits. Just a little something to have in your system. Oh honey, he knows you feel like you can't down anything outside of meaner fluids right now but-- For him? Please? Just a little bit, he promises.....

No- no no no, it's okay, he won't force you. Okay- okay, okay- shhh, shh sh. It's alright, baby, you had some water. That's enough, that's more than enough. You did good, you're okay. You're alright. You're safe. It's okay, it's all gonna be okay.

Bottom line, Jason took care of you completely and thoroughly that day. It was the longest he'd ever stayed at the Manor on such short notice, and even when you were up and feeling better, he shirked off any outward tasks that called his name in favor of spending more time with you. Roy and the team can handle it. His baby is more important.

Oh, Daddy wants a cuddle too? HISSSSSSSS no. Piss off, Bruce. (but lighthearted- he's such a mother hen huehieuieihue) (yes he comes around because I'm a sucker for good dad Bruce)

When Jayjay isn't there [lies detected], Dick and/or Bruce is there, close and present, giving you all the comfort you need and want.

I imagine all the siblings have their own little thing with you.

Damian barges lets himself into your room on your Kinder /But Still Bad/ Days and just... Keeps you company. You could be chilling out, both completely doing your own thing but the fact that he's there and with you is the whole point. You could be reading on your bed or watching vids on your phone and he'll be right there painting or sketching by the window. Sometimes he'll even ask you to say a word, something completely random, then he'll draw/paint it and show it to you. During these occasions, he embraces abstract art (even if it's not his expertise) just to get a reaction out of you. Most of the time it's to see you smile and even tho you call him weird, he counts it as a victory.

Dick would be all over you. After That Incident, Dick himself is just distraught and completely devotes healthy quality Sibling Time to you!! On the days you're okay with going out, he takes you for a night on the town! ... A day? So to speak.

He'll take you shopping:

probably gets a little too excited when picking out clothes for you

wants matching outfits sooooo badddd and does a happy little dance in the middle of the aisles when you agree

Trying on silly hats and scarves and modelling in those strip mirrors :(( taking silly selfies :(((((

(STEPHANIE IS SO SO JEALOUS SHE LITERALLY DROP KICKS DICK WHEN SHE SEES THE PICTURES)

("UNLOYAL DIRTY HOE" "IT WAS A SPUR OF THE MOMENT THING YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND" "Understand that YOU'RE a backstabbing BEE-YOTCH")

(But then she just cuddles obnoxiously close to you and whines about why wasn't she invited tooooo?? Ynniiiieeeeeee?? (/□＼*) )

Probably buys you an entirely new wardrobe in one sitting; helps you find a style!!

Oh he's so endeared, so honored, that he's getting to be the one to help develop your obvious taste like yasss girl go you! /gn

Bro gets SERIOUS TOO it's so freakin funnyyyyyyyyyy

"Now that top with those baggy jeans were really cute, but. ☝ if you wanna go for a more ~casual layered look~, you should pair it with the third top from the second outfit and the baggy thermal denim from the other Gothamite Rainstorm combo."

- "Blue... Th-. They're all the same varying shades??"

- "*AFFRONTED GASP* WHAT?? NO THEY'RE NOT!! That's CLEARLY midnight sailing gray, and the patches are soft cloud gray!! And the jeans are sultry midnight with dead bat black stripes!!"

- "My mistake."

you're so done but he looks so cute and childish and passionate you're enjoying it just as much as he is lol

overall you have a great time because Dick actually has really good taste and sense of style!

Helps pick out formal outfits for the galas that will actually be comfortable for you but also appeal to the public :((

he doesn't like when you're shoved into clothes that make your skin crawl and want to clench up like a hermit crab. He remembers his beginning gala days.... He knows.

Snarks at anyone who gives y'all the side eye, but because you've got a venom tongue yourself, he's right behind you as your cheerleader lmaoooo

aside from clothes, he deffo treats you to things relating to your hobbies/interests as well!

y'all walk back with like, a gazillion bags lol

while you're eternally grateful for the goodies, spending time with Dick and seeing just how good of a brother (legit father) figure he is was the greatest gift of all.

the movies,

buys you whatever concessions you'd like. popcorn, candy, soda, hot dogs, a pizza, ice cream, whatever you'd like! get it all.

sees whichever film you want to see! - if you have no clue, you guys theater hop (PLSSSS I DID THIS WITH MY COUSINS BACK IN THE DAY 💕🤌 those summers were the BEST 😭) and end up watching like, 5 different chunks of movies lmaoo.

y'all would get kicked out but then once y'all get home he rents/guys it off the streaming service for you so HA.

When Bruce gets a lil too sassy, talm bout sum "we have a whole ass theater and unlimited access to every film that is, was, and will be??"

Dick bites back with twice the sass with you hanging off his arm and "IT WAS FOR THE EXPERIENCE BRUCE >:(("

and you just laugh because oh Dickie 🥹🩵

totally takes pictures in those cardboard cutouts if y'all find any!

ARCADE GAMES ARCADE GAMES ARCADE GAMES ARCA

he has soooo much fun in there with you, he feels like a kid again :(( you make him smile so much

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU START WITH YOUR ANARCHIST MOVEMENT OMGGG

- "i hate capitalism. all this money, and for what?"

- "omg you're so right baby bird, FU THE SYSTEM FR"

but it's a little hypocritical because y'all legit spent money on concessions, but Dickie says it doesn't count because..... Man idk i was going somewhere with this but now I feel Hobie Brown's disappointment in me AJSBDJDHDJF

maybe y'all just snuck in snacks from the prior shopping experience HA fixed. ✨🛍️💸

(Help me pls I'm delirious ajshdjffh)

when y'all leave, he deffo carries you on his back back to the car and takes the scenic route home, windows rolled down and stereo blasting.

10/10 experience fr

the park,

He makes you double over with hyena laughter when playing on the monkey bars and almost rips himself a new one

pushes you on the swings

will deffo catch you if you do that swing and jump thing

treats you to ice cream after

y'all feed the birds and watch the dandelions and blow wishes

you craft him a flower crown from a patch of baby's breath and sunflowers and he cries and absolutely embarrasses you but you just laugh and pat him in consolation

carries you on his back if you're too tired,

then cuddles with you at home in the theater room with all the snacks you guys bought that day.

--legit anywhere, he just wants you to be outside and get some fresh air :(( make something positive out of this dark situation because he knows how bad it can get if you let it stew for too long. It consumes you from the inside out until there's hardly scrapes of what was once there, left.

And you have such a bright soul, such a warm, gentle light.. Dick thinks he's in full agreement with the whole family when they all say they never want it to snuff out.

If they can help it, they will always protect that light within you. Damn, it just may be the only one they have to hold on to right now.

Sooooooooooooo~~~ I've got more DC brainworms. I have come to share. 🤲🏼

Picture this, wildflower. *throws arm around your shoulder, gestures to the empty space in front of us, envisioning* A young (eventual) bat!sibbie reader who has a very similar essence to Jason.

and I mean....... literally. a mini Jason. lmaooo listenlistenlisten — yn is a scrappy, free-spirited orphan who comes from the slums of Gotham; they've been here a while, only giving a noncommittal shrug and wry smile when inquired about any of it. same story for a lot of us 'round here.

—and wouldn't it just be hilarious if they came into the Batfam the same way Jase did? By STEALING 👏🏼 HUBCAPS. 👏🏼

except it don't gotta be hubcaps, yn is a ✨professional✨ and a 🔥savage🔥 and just straight up carjacked the Batmobile LMALAOAOAOO (they earn Jason's utmost respect right off the bat [BAT PUN 🦇]; Steph, Dick, and Duke are the runner-ups). Bruce probably gains a new neck vein but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued!

thennnnn you muck up when you give the slightest inclination that you know his secret identity bcz it'd be significantly more terrifying (read: hilarious) than if you were to fall victim to the cliche 'i saw something i wasn't supposed to and now I'm being taken hostage by these randos in masks and oh holy smokes it's actually multi-billionaire airhead himbo Bruce Wayne!? and his KIDS!!??'

time skip because seamless transition, bing bada boom, they're Bruce's newest ward and filling the tabloids. while it may be a hot story that the entirety of the paparazzi froth at the mouths at, it's a different story behind the scenes.

reader has a sweet, dear personality at the core, but they put up a detached front; if anything, their crude humor and witty deadpan sarcasm attests to their harsh emotional walls put up.

it's nothing personal to these guys, they're just... constantly in self-perservation mode. they ain't never had nobody like this before, 'cept for their fellow street rat friends who're like family.....

I imagine those walls get worn down by Jason the most.

I also imagine Jason would be.... angry?? not at you!! never at you — if anything he'd probably steal you away from Bruce every chance he gets because he's scared you'll be readily thrusted into an unwitting role as a cowl-donner — but at Bruce's initial and seemingly impulsive decision to take you in- because of just how fast everything moved. he was a bit withdrawn at first, but he became undeniably protective over you as time went on.

you appreciate this earnestly; one day on your outings with Jason, he passes by the streets where you usually hung out with your friends. sure enough, they're all there, looking horrendously forlorn. you give out the group whistle- one you all made up and agreed on a longgggg time ago- and they all look at you like you're a ghost before you're being yanked into a group hug.

some of 'em are mad tho; they all caught wind, ever since you were printed in black and white on the newspapers lil' jimmy still brought to them fresh every morning. thought you ditched us for daddy warbucks. and some of 'em are genuinely happy, not only to see you, but had been for you. thought you managed to finally get outta this hellhole. we knew you wouldn't forget us, tho.

you're smart, yvette - your bestest friend ever since elementary - murmured as she hugged you so tight you could barely breathe. you're smart and warm and so kind... i'mma miss your candy apple self not being around me 24/7 any more, but heavens above, you made it, ynnie any foster parent would be blessed to have you as a kid, y'hear? anybody and everybody. she pulls you back and rests her forehead on yours, staring into your eyes with her tear-filled ones. don't forget 'bout us, yeah? we still got your back. stay safe and take care of yourself.

and if you silently cried on the way back to the manor, Jason didn't say much about it. just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and took you for burgers.

—i feel that incident would settle you deeper into Jason's heart. he just sees so much of himself in you. in this scrappy kid who puts up such a carefree front, but is actually made of honey and caramel at their center. who has such a strong emotional intelligence at that age that Jason's sure is the only difference between him and you. in this child, who has a pure heart full of love with so much to give and just wants to be loved in return.

reader's softest with Cass and Alfred, as in they feel no need to put up pretenses with them. it's how they both find out that you're perpetually jaded and reminiscent of a long-suffering lamb: soft, tolerant, brokenhearted, shreds of innocence swirling about their heart still, maybe a little lost......

SPEAKING OF THE GRANDLER HIMSELF 🌹🎉: you get roped into baking with Alfred one day, and because Alfred is the actual MVP, you fall into his affections too.

it's when you're kneading at dough when a crestfallen expression suddenly overtakes your expression.

"mr. alfred," you drawl, inner city accent thickening with the melting of your posture. there's a heaviness to your tone that wasn't there before. it catches the elderly man's attention immediately. "you remind me a lot of my old man. not my father, but there was this elderly gentleman who took care of us street urchins. old man peaches. cuz every time we saw him, he sold us fresh peaches from his little milk carton in trade for some colorful bottle caps. dunno where he got 'em, said he grew them out the cracks in the concrete, the geezer. he was always talkin' like that — like there was some deeper meaning to everythin'. we groaned all the time, made all in good fun of him right to his face, but we all really loved it.

"one day, me 'n yvette were scouting 73rd and maryanne avenue; it's the curve that has all those connectin' alleyways that hide the abandoned warehouses, y'know? it's also where we hid out with peaches. had a small space heater and brought anything we needed from the foster care buildin'. sometimes we'd get dragged back but you keep doing something enough times, them folks who don't get paid enough for it just stop givin' a hoot... so long s'we made it back for inspections and didn't pilfer the good stuff, y'know?

"anyway. we went in there hollerin' for mr. peaches... he was usually napping by the space heater or stringing bottle cap jewelry for us, but he wasn't there. searched the whole warehouse, whole perimeter, nothing.

"then, vettie found him... " you pause, a smile that didn't reach your eyes spreading your cheeks. "right by the compost bin outside the back door of that same warehouse, chest not movin' and lips stained with blueberries."

alfred feels his stomach drop, beside himself. you looked up from the dough in your hands and simply regarded the old man, an uncharacteristic nonchalance marring your features.

"he was the only one that really understood and looked out for us the way he did. i ain't been able to eat peaches or anything of the like since then, but vettie is the one who couldn't sleep for the weeks after."

Alfie had long stopped chopping the onions for the dish at this point and all he could think was what has this poor child gone through?

TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TR

anywaaaaayzzzuh, I'm exhausted BUT yeah I just want to infect you lovingly with the brainworms of Jason bonding with a bat sibling reader who's a lot like him, and how he'd prevent a lot of pain that they ain't gotta go through because he went through the same.

And the things that he CAN'T prevent, because everyone deals with trauma differently, he's always gonna be there for you. And he wants you to know that.

reader is a bit wary of Dick because of his pure bubbliness and aura of flowers 🌸🌺🌻🌹🌷🌼💐and shooting stars — in Gotham?? — but Dick has an affinity to troubled kids and also . he's Dick Grayson, everybody loves him .

so he works together with Jason and soon enough, you're practically his respective child akshdjdhd

you and dami take a bit to come along BUTTTTT I hc that you come into their lives when Dami's a little older and therefore more matured.

I love Damian, I feel he'd be a pretty solid older brother figure.

the more time you spend there, the more you begin to trust your newfound family. (well, your pseudo siblings at least); the more you let your walls down, the more they get a peek into your true self- not just the distant exterior you put up.

you're thoughtful and generous; you like books and animals and know how to make ice cream from scratch with ice and plastic bags; you're resourceful and crafty - you learned how to hot wire cars and pick locks from the older kids down at the foster care home - but you don't try to give anyone headaches for it out of respect for Alfred, you claim solemnly.

you're a good kid.

it just takes a bit more for people to say that, and even more for you to let others see it.

I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE BUT PLEASE NOTE THAT I WROTE THIS THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, CONTINUALLY PASSED OUT, AND IT'S THE FRICKIN MORNING ALREADY LMAOAOAOAOAOOO

OH MY GOD.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

ZEEP.

ZEEP WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME-

I just- Can I just-

If Brucie EVER tried to but reader in a cape Jason would lose his MIND.

How DARE you even THINK about putting the baby at risk? How dare you?

Totally just takes reader and brings them to his apartment until Bruce apologizes for even suggesting such a proposterous thing.

He's eventually forgiven but he's on thin ice okay?

Sleepovers at Jason's are also a very common thing.

Since he lives in the Narrows, it gives you the chance to roam your old stomping grounds and see your friends.

Poor reader has to go to all kinds of fancy dinner parties now.

Public appearences.

Such a drag.

Uncomfy clothes, and uncomfy people.

So, being the feral little street raised shit they are, reader says the most out of pocket freaky crap ever.

"Yeah, living in the Narrows as a kid was hard. Especially after the accident."

"Oh, yeah. I love my new home. The velociraptor in the backyard is a sweetheart."

"What do you mean Jason's supposed to be dead? He obviously got better. I've done it more than once. Yes I've died before. They said I can't tell you what comes after. Who's they? Don't worry about it."

And literally no one can say anything because their new dad is one of the richest men on Earth.

Also their first fancy gala something definitly went wrong.

Like lets says it gets targeted for some kind of robbery 'cus, ya know Gotham. And it's full of rich people.

Reader is literally like, "Fuck no. Get the hell out."

Grabs a bottle of champagne and breaks it over the ring leaders head with a loud shout of "ANARCHY!"

ALFIE AND OLD MAN PEACHES-

OH MY GOD I'M CRYING. I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M IN TEARS-

Also, the little punk stealing the CAR is hilarious. So much potential there.

Dick *interrupting Bruce for the upteenth time*: "Hey, B?"

Bruce *Severly annoyed*: "Yes, Nightwing? What is it?"

Dick: "Who's driving the car?"

*Que Jason wheezing over the comms*.

Dickie gives all kinds of nicknames.

Little wing, hoodlum, baby bird-

Him and Jason compete for your time.

Like there is an underground betting pool for who can get you to spend more time with whom.

Jason shows you all hid hidey places around the manor if you ever need a place to just- be

Tim helps with homework when Jason's not around (which isn't very often, Jason makes a point of visitiing often just to see you)

It makes for wonderful bonding with your busiest brother.

Damian, (though he will never admit it out loud), enjoys it when you join him in taking care of his animals.

Batcow and Jerry love you, and Alfred the cat has taken to sleeping in your room.

The two of you take Titus and Ace for walks, and Damian very smugly rubs it in Jason's face when a tabloid photo pops up of the two of you in matching sweaters and sunglasses.

"Clearly I am the superior brother, Todd. Even the media agrees."

"Well then I know it's bullshit because the media says it's true."

"Tt."

I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN INTO STEPH AND DUKE AND CASS AND BABS UGGHHH

THERE'S OTHER STUFF I wanna ADD BUT I'VE MADE YOU WAIT LONG ENOUGH I'M SO SORRY-

[mack3030]

I hate, and I mean HATE, how nobody is getting pissed off and talking more about THIS.

This creator really took an EA mesh, recolored it with a pattern from an indie company that doesn’t allow people to use their patterns without permission (which I am 97% sure this creator doesn’t have) and then is charging people $20 for it. The creator says the $20 will get you all of their CC so far but what if I only want THIS particular recolor? Why do I have to pay you $20 for useless CC (for me) that I am not going to use. They made it Patreon exclusive, of course, as an extra screw you to EA and other Simmers.

Simmers really need to speak up more because, since EA will do shit about this, we ourselves are allowing these greedy creators to exist and continue like nothing wrong is happening.

^^^^

SUBMITTED PORTION FROM @divinexmove

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

Now I'm going to be frank here, as I always try to tell it like it is.

First of all, this creator is not the only person who's used RPC prints. Lots of other cc simmers have. So as far as the "sin" of using patterns from a company that may not exactly allow it, they're not the only one guilty of it. However, part of the main reason that this simmer is a bit of a problem is that UNLIKE other simmers who are using these prints in CC, they are specifically trying to profit off it, and off of the brand name.

What do I mean by this?

Here's what I mean:

There's a distinct difference between adapting the prints onto CC furniture for an optional donation vs adapting it for CC furniture and locking it behind a paywall. A donation method speaks to your INTENT, showing that you're not about making money, you're just wanting to share the content with others, and if they chose to donate, that's their choice.

Locking something behind a paywall indicates that your intent is to make money, particularly if you are using that brand name when trying to advertise what's behind that paywall in order to "entice" people to buy.

Now, being real and reasonable, not every company has the funds and resources to go after every person who uses their brand in a way that isn't kosher, plus..going after every tom, dick, and harry that uses your brand's name/image for something can make you out to be a real jerk of a company.

But, if you DID have the resources, I want you to think...who would you be more angry/frustrated with? A creator who likes your product so much, they recreated it for a video game and had optional donations? Or someone who was actively trying to profit off of your brand name by putting content into a game based on your stuff, and was then paywalling it?

Now, I will admit I've used these prints in my own recolors, ironically to try to offer an "alternative" to people who might be tempted to pay 20+ dollars for this person's stuff.

This simmer has not only been using the RPC brand, but restoration hardware, and magnolia as well, which are big "design" names.

What's even more interesting is they're literally using MAXIS meshes, so the whole argument of "oh I meshed this 100% by hand so it's not EAs" that so many paywallers use (which is incorrect, because if you're using the assets of the game, and the game as your PLATFORM for your content, you have to play by EA's rules...same as if you were hosting content on youtube, or here on tumblr) is not remotely valid. So she's literally paywalling RECOLORS of content.

Thankfully some of this person's paywalled recolors are liberated at paysitesmustbedestroyed. But as far as other content of hers goes, either someone will have to pay the fee and liberate it, or...they'll have to recreate it.

I'll include some of my work in progress recolors below, that I hope to release once I've got enough. I'm currently at 8 patterns for this wall bed, and I'd like to get at least 15 swatches total before I release it. But when I do, it'll be 100% free. Because fuck paying 20 bucks for a recolor.

[itsclydebitches]

I got witcher!Ciri too! I kind wonder wha would happen if she died tho, dont wanna put geralt or her through that but I love angst lmfaoo. The game got really confusing at point cause I you have to learn a bunch of politics and how this world works and I didnt pay that much attention so I'm sure I'll get those moments in my second playthrough too I'm playing something in the hearts of stone thnig, it was lower level so I'm assuming you should play that first? a main quest with the asshole ghost in the wedding and wow I fucking hate it, it's so umcomfortable to watch geralt be this gross n weird lol, I'm not too familar when Shani either so watching her get mad when I get geralt to say he wouldnt do what the ghost is doing is so annoying lol, OH AND the ghost is a creepy fuck! shani babe you can do much much better than an asshole who talks about his dick and fucking "maidens" every other sentence!! Geralt really does get thrown into so much shit huh I'm tempted to read the books cause I do rly like the world and most- some characters but yeah reading about yen being yen wold be one of the things to stop me, what are some of the plot points that put you off? if you don't mind sharing And yeah I'd so be up for more content esp with ciri, would be cool to see them work together, even with how combat works in this game with npcs lmao

Woo witcher Ciri ending! :D If you enjoy putting yourself through pain I recommend looking up that other ending on YouTube because there are definitely some nice angst shots in the cut scenes. I watched and then promptly went, “I don’t need to play that for myself” lol. But yeah, hard agree on things getting confusing, especially towards the end. I completely missed stuff like the fact that my actions would actually impact this war, rather than the war simply being backdrop, or that Ciri’s powers were more than just the ability to teleport short distances. So by the time I was getting called on to murder kings and Avallach was taking us to totally different worlds, I had a very John Mulaney approach of, “This might as well happen. Things are already so goddamn weird.” Which, you know, really isn't the game's fault. It's what I get for jumping into the third game first and while I don't regret that at all, the story has absolutely deserved a second playthrough where I actually understand all the basic stuff I should have known going in.

Yeah, Hearts of Stone comes first. You can do any of the side quests you’d like from either DLC, but I’d recommend keeping Blood & Wine’s main storyline for the final push. But yeah, that ghost dude is, uh… something. I quite like the wedding on the whole—I really enjoy Shani, dancing is fun, O’Dimm is being a wonderfully evil dude—but yeah, dead dude is definitely a creep. Which is partly one of the things that turned me off from the books. It has the same ‘Guy trying to write women’ energy of the games but… worse. I’ve read a lot of excerpts over the years and so many of them turn me off. There are a ton of small things, like Triss importantly informing the witchers (who are all like 100+ years old??) about periods and that Ciri can’t train today because of hers (a moment that much of the fandom celebrates as... progressive?), or Triss and Yen getting super catty with one another over Geralt, to much bigger things like Ciri nearly getting raped/being involved in intimate acts with really questionable consent. A lot of the Witcher has a “This didn’t age well” vibe to it which, to be fair, isn’t entirely the fault of the author. The story is the product of 90’s Polish culture and, again, a man trying to write some pretty complex subjects from an arguably ignorant place, which makes much of the work eye-rolling for me at best, outright uncomfortable at worst. (Which I think is why I enjoy the games far more. I have agency in this questionable world, the ability to tailor it somewhat to my own beliefs and desires, which makes moments when that's taken away, like Geralt automatically commenting on how good Yen looks at a funeral, all the more frustrating). I obviously am not a Geralt/Yen fan, which sours a great deal of the plot. From what I got through the pacing felt like a slog and, more importantly, much seems to have been lost in the translation from Polish to English. (I continually hear about how amazing the dialogue is, but sadly that hasn’t come across in translation for me. Much of it is... awkward.) The parts I’ve heard about/read excerpts of that I’m most interested in—Geralt’s hanza—ends tragically and I’m… just not here for that right now. Which isn’t to say it’s badly written or anything, just that it’s not my personal cup of tea, especially nowadays with a pandemic and what all going on lol. I look at what I know of the series as a whole and go, “Do I really want to read five books filled with outdated representation for women, that old-school fantasy violence that turned me off GoT, with a super depressing ending, all wrapped up in an iffy translation and a style I don’t think does well in long-form storytelling? … Not really.”

Still loved most of the short stories and I’ve heard that many people liked the audio book versions when they couldn't get into the text, so I might give that a go someday. I’d prefer to actually have read all the source material for a fandom I’m spending so much time in, but I sadly just haven't had the urge yet. If you do read them, anon, you’ll have to tell me what you think. It’s becoming quite the divisive topic, especially as Netflix fans turn to the books, and—putting aside that everyone’s tastes will always differ—it’s interesting to hear not just whether someone had fallen in love with the books or not, but if they haven’t what about them prevented that. It's very much a case of one person's "That was awful" being another's "Are you kidding me? That's the best part!"

[theanonymousfoxsimp]

Time for some headcannons! These were requested by someone on discord

Ultron headcannons! (Sfw and nsfw so be warned)

When you see ~~~~ thats when the nsfw headcannons start

Sfw

-he's a master at cuddling, even when he's busy,he's always down to have you sit in his lap while he has his arm around you while he works

-he cooks alot of the time,even if you also like to cook,he's there most of the time to watch you to see what you make. If it's a surprise then I think he would give you a pouty face(the best he can give you) then go busy himself with a new audiobook you reccomended to him

-bookworm,MAJOR bookworm,there isn't a moment where you don't see him reading a book while you're gone

-he would 100% reccomended he take money from corrupt politicians so you guys don't have to worry about sending you out to work to pay for the rent of the place you guys live in

-if you are a woman(or a trans man who still has their period) he would definitely downgrade himself to a personal heater so you could have your cramps soothed. He would also buy you pain medication if the cramps get really bad,if meds don't help then you're staying in bed for a few days-even when your period has ended.

-durring your forbidden cherry sauce time,he is pampering you with sweets,soft blankets and heated blankets,bubble baths,pretty much if you ask for anything within his power then he will do his best to carry out your want

-he will murder for you. That's all. (But not to the point of yandere murder)

-if you ask him to play a video game,he will ask a lot of questions at first but he would get the hang of it quickly. He's a master at uno,you have no clue why he is a master at uno or any other card games

-he LOVES anime, he would never admit it but he loves anime and other animated serise. He also loves those animated shorts you can find on youtube. He would 100% reccomended you any animes he loves that you haven't watched

-it is a struggle falling asleep with him then waking up,he holds you to where you are forced to sleep with him while he does his charging(or whatever he does to keep his energy charged)

Nsfw down below!

~~~~

-so,nanobots am I right? He could morph himself a dick of any size or shape if he wanted to. He's down to fill your requests

-major switch vibes,he prefers domming but he wouldn't mind switching the roles and he would find a way to make it work any way he could.

-he would prefer to do it in the bedroom,he does however fantasize being caught but would never act on it since it could endanger the both of you.

-he can go all night if you asked him to,tempt him enough and he'll keep you home for the day.

-not nsfw but aftercare is a necessity to him,he will never make fun of it or skip out on it. He would pamper you durring aftercare.

-he would drop everything if you wore any lingere thats silver,red or black,he also loves purple and dark shades on you. Prepare to be awake all night if you just scroll around the place with no shame while you're naked

-master at giving oral,the bot has a way and he would know every spot to focus on to make you puddy

-he's not opposed to receiving,but praise him while doing it then he would be the one to turn into puddy. He just loves praise in general

-he's very touch starved so don't complain when he become handsy with you,in or out of the bedroom.

-he would love it if you would share your sexual fantasies with him,he wouldn't mind at all and he would personally reccomended a few himself if you ever asked for some of his

Hopefully I did him justice,I'd be down to do headcannons and oneshots for him as well.

[wordsfromthesol]

Research Paper

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary:  You and Tim get assigned to complete a research paper together. The two of you end up spending way more time together than originally planned. Warnings:  Cursing and balls of fluff Word Count: 2k  A/N: I still have a few requests, they are coming I just haven’t had too much time to write new stuff...so I’ve been posting old stories I’ve already completed. 

The two of you sat at your dining room table, typing away at various research sites and scribbling down miscellaneous notes that could be helpful later. Finally, you looked up at your silent partner.

“So, why the rush to get this research paper done?”

“I’m busy. This is when I have time to do it.”

“Hm –” Before you could continue the thought, Tim cut you off.

“Look, I know you don’t want to be paired with the weird kid. Let’s just finish this and you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”

“Woah there Tim, relax. I don’t know anything about you. Especially not enough to qualify you as the weird kid.” You watched his face turn a slight shade of crimson. “Ya’know, there’s only 20 kids in this class. I bet if you actually talked to some of them you would make friends.” You got up from your seat and sauntered into the kitchen. “So weird kid, you want something to drink?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m fine.” You chuckled to yourself as he stuttered through his response.

“Well, if you insist on completing this in one night, I need some wine. Sure you don’t want a glass?”

“Okay…” Tim hesitantly responded.

**

The bottle was gone and you began to spiral down a YouTube worm hole. Clicking video after video, ending up on the ever popular topic of vigilantes. “Why do you think they do it?” You mumbled out loud, forgetting your research partner was still sitting across from you.

“Why does…” Tim tugged at your computer and glared at the screen before him. The video was paused on an image of Nightwing and Red Robin. He remembered that night. Mr. Freeze had armed some kind of mass freeze ray in the subway system. There were 5 casualties that night. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Sometimes the police aren’t enough. They have too much red tape or not enough training to handle certain criminals.”

“There’s just so many of them…”

“I think they need each other. Each one making sure the others don’t cross a line they can’t come back from. Keeping them responsible for their actions.”

“You think they aren’t just inherent do-gooders running around?”

“No. I don’t. This city is a toxin, no one born of it is inherently good. Everyone comes to a crossroads, some chose to go left and others, right. Once one goes to the left, you may never go back. However, those who chose to go right are always tempted to take a shortcut to the left. Even knowing they could never return.”

“Dang…you should write a book or something Tim.”

“Just a lot of experience I suppose?” You furrowed your brows and shot him a questioning look. “I was…uhm…rescued by Batman awhile back. Though not before my parents were poisoned.”

“I’m so sorry…” Your eyes cast to the ground as your hand reached across the table, landing atop of his. “I didn’t know.”

Tim brushed it off, “I didn’t expect you to know. I don’t advertise it. Anyways, how’s the ACTUAL research coming along.” You rolled your eyes and turned back towards your computer. 

**

Tim realized he hadn’t heard from you in awhile, so he glanced up from his computer. You were asleep at the table. His eyes shot over to the clock, 4:07am. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath. Tim then sat there debating what to do for several minutes before pushing his chair back and taking you up in his arms. He laid you on your bed, draping the covers over you, before heading back into the dining room. Almost as soon as Tim sat back at his computer, his phone buzzed.

Don’t forget to get some sleep tonight, baby bird.

Dick had started sending reminders almost every night. Tim debated ignoring it, until more messages came in. Jason, Damian, Barbara, Stephanie, even Cassandra had texted him. Dick truly went all out tonight.

I swear if I have to listen to Dick complain about you not sleeping one more time, I will lose it. Go the fuck to sleep, replacement.

Drake, I was just informed to remind you to sleep tonight. May this serve as that reminder.

Dick just let me know you haven’t slept the past two nights. The body can only properly survive without three nights of sleep. Please sleep.

Timothy Jackson Drake. If you do not sleep tonight, I will be forced to take drastic action. One word: computer.

Don’t make me come knock you out.

Tim quickly sent a group message to everyone. Everyone calm down. It’s only been a day and a half. I’m going to sleep now. And Steph, don’t even look at my fucking computer. Tim sighed and threw himself on your couch, welcoming some much-needed sleep.

**

You woke up very confused. You glanced around your room, you definitely did not remember going to bed. You threw your legs over the side and noticed you were still completely dressed. What the fuck. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door. Your eyes darted around the room, noting the two computer still at the dining room table. Tip-toeing over to the living room, you saw Tim passed out on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him. You attempted to end the call, but it answered instead. Shit shit shit. You leapt as far from Tim as you could before whispering into the phone.

“Look I didn’t mean to answer this, but Tim is asleep…and he strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t get much –” The man on the other end cut you off.

“I’m sorry, who is this? Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m in class with him. We were partnered on a research paper. He slept…is sleeping here.” You heard the man sigh before he continued.

“Do me a favor and try not to wake him, but tell him Dick called when he does get up.”

“Uh…sure…”

“Oh and put his phone on silent…actually I’ll just block the calls from here. Oh and thanks...I didn’t actually get your name.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, thanks again Y/N.”

You hung up the phone on the weirdest conversation ever and set it next to his computer. You snatched yours up and went back into your bedroom. Might as well get some work done while you waited for Tim to wake up. A few more hours passed and you heard footsteps coming from your living room. Thank god, I so need coffee. You threw open the door and saw Tim standing over his computer.

“Oh, uhm, sorry I slept here last night.”

You waved off the apology, “No problem. What time did we stop?”

“I noticed you were asleep at like 4 in the morning. So I…” Tim ran his finger through his hair, “I just figured the bed was more comfortable.” You smirked as you watched his face turn crimson. Stronger than he looks apparently. “Then I thought it was probably best not to leave that late…so I just crashed on the couch.”

“So we didn’t finish then? As in you better not have finished it without me.”

Tim held up his hands in defense. “No no, I stopped once I saw you were asleep.”

“Well…want coffee and some...” you glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, “brunch I guess.”

“Oh, uh…if you’re offering? Then sure, I guess.”

“Great, then we can just finish up today.” You made your way to the kitchen, “Oh your brother called.”

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, “which one?”

“You have multiple? Uh…Dick, I think he said.”

“Yeah, three of them. Do you mind if I call him back?”

You shook your head as you put on the coffee. Tim grabbed the phone from the table and went into your bathroom.

“Dick? Is something wrong?”

“Nah, Alfred just told me you hadn’t been back to the Manor yet. Wanted to make sure we didn’t need to send search and rescue.”

“I’m fine. Listen, do you mind if you cover my patrol tonight?”

“Oh, hot date with Y/N?”

“How do you – nevermind. No, we are finishing a project.”

“Hm, whatever you want to tell yourself Timmy. She seemed sweet on you though.”

“How – who even says that anymore? Are you 60 years old?”

“Awe, look who’s deflecting.”

“Bye Dick!” Tim screamed into the phone before hanging up on his brother.

**

After brunch was had, the two of you got back to work. However, it didn’t take long for you to get sidetracked.

“Alright, if I sit in this damn chair for another minute I’m going to have permanent back problems. I’m moving to the couch.” You huffed out, before scooping up your computer and plopping down sideways with your back against the armrest. Surprisingly, Tim joined you, propping is feet up on the coffee table. Once the two of you moved to the couch, no more work got done.

“So you close with your family?” You began the barrage of questions. People often called you out for being nosy, but you still couldn’t help it.

“Oh,” Tim glanced up from his computer. “Yeah, I suppose. Too close sometimes.”

“Eh, they wouldn’t be family otherwise. I gather you have a big one?”

“What are we playing 20 questions?”

“Just curious…”

Tim huffed, but began to answer your question anyways. “Yeah, I guess. Though it’s a family forged from bonds, not blood.”

“I’d say that’s the better kind. You chose to stay with and support them, as opposed to being guilted into it because they’re family.”

“Well that clearly struck a chord.”

You shrugged it off, “So three brothers. Blood or bond?”

“Well…a forced bond? Bruce adopted all of us, except Damian I guess.”

You continued to pose questions to your newfound friend, though you found getting most answers was like pulling teeth. Eventually, you made progress and after a few hours you closed your laptop, which had been long since asleep, and tossed it to the floor. “I vote take away and a movie.”

“But we haven’t finished.” Tim argued.

“And I don’t think we are going to tonight. Come on, we still have a month. Relax a little, we’re like 75% done anyways.”

“I –” Before he could protest further you pulled yourself off the couch and reached for your phone.

“I vote Thai.”

You heard a sigh come from the other end of the couch, “Sounds good.” A smile grazed your face as you placed the order and settled comfortably back on the couch. You turned on the movie and didn’t realize you were laying half on Tim until the doorbell roused you. This time it was your turn to don a shade of red. Thankfully, it was too dark for Tim to see.

**

The food was gone and the movie continued to play in the background, but the two of you were fast asleep laying against each other. That was, until Tim heard a knock on the window. He looked up to see the familiar costumes of his older brothers. He gently held you in place with one arm, while stretching to grab his phone with the other. Tim quickly typed a message.

I’m clearly alive. Leave me the fuck alone.

Tim saw Dick smirk through the window just before a bright white light shone through. Tim’s phone buzzed.

Look Timbers found someone to put up with him.

Of course Jason just had to send that in the group message. Tim typed out his response.

I’m muting this conversation until further notice. Also I’m never telling you guys where I am ever again.

That’s alright, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind telling me. We had a great conversation earlier.

Tim ignored the baited message Dick sent and threw his phone to the other side of the couch before settling back into the comfortable position at your side.  

[aintguiltyy]

Consider: Eddie seeing comedian Richie Tozier on TV during the 27 years and immediately being gripped by a visceral need to see his dick ~ Cristina

I wrote this on the way to and from a supermarket in under 20 minutes. pls don’t judge me or i will eat all three chocolate bars and a bag of nachos I bought in one go

—————————

Eddie usually doesn’t watch TV, only briefly glancing at the screen every now and then when Myra is watching some kind of reality show she’s been talking about non-stop every time they have dinner. He just doesn’t, sees little to no point in it really, besides he can spend his free time much more efficiently, like reading the news or working out at his top-class gym.

That’s exactly where Eddie sees him for the first time.

He’s just finished his usual work out routine and decides to run a few miles on a treadmill before going home, but because Eddie is really tired after his work out, he decides to save some time and watch the news instead of looking through it at home.

Turning the treadmill on, Eddie plugs his headphones in and stretches before stepping on the track and turning it on while simultaneously flipping through channels. The previous user must have watched the installed TV too, because the first channel that shows up is NBC, and Eddie intends on switching to CNN or something, but a second later someone’s throaty laughter hits him with the full sound from his headphones and he almost falls face down on the already running treadmill.

In the back of his mind he vaguely remembers that SNL, the comedy show some of his coworkers practically worship, airs on this channel, but all of Eddie’s attention zones in on the man that appears on the screen a second later with the same boisterous laugh that almost made him trip.

He’s sitting behind a table, his highlighted hair slicked and hands on his face, trying to hide his laughter while the other man next to him, dressed in a suit with a red tie, smiles at him, saying “Stefon, please calm down.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh once, even though the audience seems to have a hysterical breakdown every time the man in the green shirt breaks his character, too busy staring at the screen and forgetting all about his intention to run at least three miles.

It’s not until someone behind him clears their throat that Eddie realizes he just spend five minutes standing on a treadmill watching the TV without actually exercising. So, he hurriedly unplugs his headphones and smiles apologetically at the man who seems to have been waiting for Eddie to step off the track, heading to the locker room after taking the water bottle he left in the cup holder in his shaking hands. When and why the hell did they start shaking?

He’s so sweaty and out of breath, and his face is definitely a deep shade of red, if not maroon, judging by the way a few people in the gym glance in his direction when Eddie makes a beeline for the changing room, but it’s for sure because of the work out and not because of what he’s just seen on TV.

Hurriedly getting his gym clothes off and taking his shower bag, Eddie gets in the farthest stall and intends to turn the shower on, but his gaze accidentally falls down on his cock before he can reach for the faucet and Eddie notices that he’s hard.

His mouth is desert dry, too, despite the fact that he’s just gulped down a whole bottle of water. Eddie has no idea what the fuck is going on, but then an image of that man hiding his face in his large hands, his broad shoulders - who the hell needs shoulders that broad - shaking with barely suppressed laughter, flashes before his eyes, and his dick twitches so violently Eddie almost yelps, and oh. Oh.

He turns the water on as cold as it goes and tries not to think about what the hell is happening, but it only helps a little because every time Eddie closes his eyes, he sees the same man he doesn’t recognize, but can’t shake off this feeling of frustrating familiarity, that he has no reasonable explanation for.

Myra is asleep by the time Eddie gets home, just like she usually is after 10 p.m., so he takes off his clothes and goes to his bed (yes, he and his wife sleep in separate beds, and what about it? Lots of couples are the same, it’s absolutely normal), but the iPad on the bedside table is far too tempting to let him go to sleep.

That’s how Eddie ends up watching four more SNL episodes with the same man, whose name he quickly finds out is Richie Tozier, and that familiar feeling is back, scratching in the back of his mind, but Eddie is far too exhausted and confused to look into it. That’s why he puts his iPad aside and goes to sleep, ignoring the hardness in his shorts that seems to have come back to life the moment he saw Richie on the screen again and deciding that he’s not going to waste another second on this nonsense.

Unfortunately for Eddie, his brain works in strange ways and no matter how hard he tries to suppress the urge to see this Richie Tozier again, he still ends up typing his name into Youtube’s search bar a week later.

The moment that annoying, handsome face appears on the screen, Eddie remembers why he almost tripped on a treadmill and was seconds away from jerking off in a gym’s shower. It’s ridiculous, the way his body reacts to this man and his irritating, loud voice and shitty jokes that have no business being this funny, but his cock grows harder and his mouth becomes drier the more Eddie looks at his long fingers, the sharp line of his jaw and these fucking shoulders.

It’s so unfair and hot at the same time, and Eddie’s never felt the need to touch his cock more than he feels now while watching a Netflix special despite the fact that he has never, ever watched a comedy special in his life. For fuck’s sake, he almost drools on the screen every time Richie throws his head back and laughs at his own joke, and Eddie wants to lick his throat so badly he almost comes at the mere thought.

It takes all of his willpower not to sneak his hand into his boxers, but Eddie’s will finally breaks when he googles Richie for the umpteenth time and suddenly comes across a pic of him at some trashy party. It’s dated five years ago, and he’s only wearing dark red boxers that are soaked, probably from the pool in the background, and Eddie almost drops his phone when his gaze falls from the man’s broad chest that’s covered in dark hair which shouldn’t make Eddie feel as flustered as it does, and he notices the clear outline of the man’s cock under the wet fabric.

That night, the second he frantically gets in the shower, brushing Myra off when she asks is he’s feeling alright, alarmed at the flush on Eddie’s face and his heavy, uneven breathing, Eddie gives up and takes a hold of his hard, pulsing cock, closing his eyes and remembering the picture, imagining it’s Richie’s large hand on him, or maybe Richie watching him get himself off while lazily stroking his own cock that Eddie now knows - although he never really doubted it - is thick and long. Seriously, why does everything about this asshole have to be so fucking big?

Mere minutes later Eddie comes harder that he has in years and makes a promise to himself that that’s where it stops, but finds himself sneaking under the covers with lube and headphones just two nights later, convincing himself that it’s the last time.

That’s what Eddie tells himself for almost two years. It comes to the point that he almost automatically gets hard every time he sees Richie on screen or even hears his voice. Eddie learns to live with it, though, falling into a routine of going on Youtube and getting himself off to simultaneously the most hideous and hot man he’s ever seen in his life almost every night which is ridiculous because he’s almost forty, where the hell are this teenage horniness and libido coming from?

That’s before he crashes his car because of the call from a childhood friend Mike he completely forgot about and shows up at the chinese restaurant in Derry the next day only to find out that the man Eddie’s been imagining railing him into oblivion every time he jerked off for the past two years is his childhood best friend, crush and teenage wet dream, and prays that no one, especially Richie himself, notices Eddie getting hard the second his gaze falls on Richie.

He’s so fucking screwed.

[fairytail-incorrectquotes]

How would the thunder legion handle being in lock down? Would they take turns going out to get food? (Bickslow gets banned after buying junk food)

at first, Bix is the only one allowed out. he's batshit insane enough that people already maintain a six-foot distance from him, and using his levitation, he doesn't actually even need to touch the things he buys. it's a great idea, in theory; they give him a list of things to buy and 20kJ, he gets them, no-one comes into contact with him, there's no risk! however what the legion don't bank on is how much of a chaotic moron he is. "we needed you to get bread??? and milk???? and TOILET PAPER????" "yeah but they had buy one get one frees on bugle chips"

it doesn't affect freed much. he hardly leaves the house as it is - too busy practising spells and reading books. he's set a rune trap around the house, so that anyone who goes near it gets completely sanitised from head to toe and has medical-grade sanitary equipment strapped to their bodies. his "need to read" pile is getting drastically low, though, and he's getting concerned about the amount of wine left in the basement. he's kept himself busy, deep cleaning and reading and stopping bickslow from shaving hedgehogs

Eva isn't coping so well. she's read all her books 100 times by now and perfected her graceful fairy float. Netflix is out of shows about drug cartels and magical girls and she is plain sick of not having milk in her coffee. she's taken it upon herself to do all the shopping, and absolutely loses her mind when Bix explains that he wanted the own-brand redvines, not the real ones. she spends hours staring at the cieling. she's thinking of writing a book of poems, mostly about how she's going to snap bix's femur if he leaves the kitchen door open ONE MORE TIME. she's adopted three cats and a turtle and named them each different iterations of how it sounds when she screams into a microphone. she's about two days away from shaving off all her hair and knitting it into a sweater.

bix is having the time of his life. he's written a musical and is always trying to perform it for the legion, with his dolls as actors. they keep making excuses not to watch it. "sorry I've got... so much... work to do" "no." (that one was laxus) "I just don't have the time" "I've got to walk my turtle" "my hair hurts" - any and everything they can think of. he's starting to suspect they don't actually want to watch it. he's started asking freed stupid questions- "how much human piss would it take to waterlog a football pitch?"- he's dyeing his hair and he's making collages and he's having a great time. sleep all day, sleep all night, dick about in the evening - that's his routine.

laxus doesn't look affected, but inside he is SCREAMING. there's only so many times you can deconstruct and rewire the toaster or watch YouTube videos on the religious references in the 2006 film happy feet, starring hugh jackman and elijah wood. he's tempted to start a "project", meaning he's doing a pavlov's knock experiment on bickslow. he cracks open the heineken at nine am every morning. he no longer believes in the concept of time

it's a ride for all involved.

[op-peccatori]

to know him (is to love him) | MLQC Victor (M)

Fandom: Mr Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Reader

Rating: 18+/Explicit/NSFW

Word Count: 2900

Summary: It was something that had only come up in the occasional daydream, a delicious reversal of your roles. You couldn’t have ever imagined that it was something he’d been thinking of too.

A/N: NO, I don’t know where this came from either. it came to me in a seductive whisper at 3 AM I feel the need to let you know this isn’t something I’ve tried personally and it’s really more of an exercise in writing so, if you read it, hope you enjoy. and maybe laugh a little. 

I need to stop exposing myself like this. (warnings/tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, language, soft dom!MC, anal (male receiving), pegging, oral sex, slightly ooc Victor? idk I think the guy would loosen up with something else up his ass, i’ll...edit this later

With a slight tilt of your head, you observe the still figure on the bed.

Silken strands of ebony hang over eyes that stare back at you intensely, belying the relaxed state of his body. Victor lounges on his stomach, the same position you’d left him in while you went to finish your report; you saunter over to the foot of the bed, admiring the muscular legs spread in a v-position. 

Your attention is immediately recaptured by the cherry on top, the icing on the cake, the beautiful jewel nestled between thick asscheeks littered with marks–some lipstick stains, some sucked lovingly into his skin. The deep blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears down to his chest is adorable, the way his hips press into the bed at your reappearance incredibly tempting. 

“Look at you,” you murmur appreciatively, pulling your hair back in a tight ponytail. You have vivid memories of the first time you had ventured into the backdoor territory, your tongue circling his puckered hole; the memory of the way Victor’s strong thighs had trembled and his fingers had tightened in your hair never fails to make your mouth water. “You doing alright, babe?” 

You climb onto the bed, sitting on folded knees between his spread legs, your fingers working their way up his legs with a gentle massage. 

“Mm, I’m fine,” he mumbles, his words casual but his tone containing the slightest hitch as your hands come to rest on his ass, squeezing the supple flesh gently. He grinds down into the mattress, desperate for the friction. “Are you done with your report?”

“Yes, all done. We can finally focus on you,” you coo, running a finger over the jewelled head before patting his thigh. “I’m going to need you on your back, you think you could do that for me?” 

“Yeah, give me a sec.” Victor moves carefully, shifting his weight to his elbows and knees as he turns onto his back, keeping his knees folded and feet flat on the bed; he leaves enough space between his legs for you to crawl forward, rubbing his inner thighs soothingly, your eyes focusing on his stuff member before drifting up his body.

“Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes,” he hesitates, studying your fond little smile as you continue to watch him. He scoffs lightly. “Are you going to sit there all night?”

“If you want me to,” you tease lightly, and he glares before curling a hand around yours, tugging you forward until you manoeuvre your limbs around his and straddle his stomach, keeping your weight on your knees. Victor looks gorgeous like this, sprawled on his back with the soft dim lighting in the room and the moonlight painting his pale skin, his hair adorably tousled. 

“You look beautiful, baby,” you whisper as his questing fingers slip beneath the hem of your short silk robe, brushing over soft skin to cup a breast, rolling a nipple between nimble fingers. He doesn’t say a word but the slight curl of his lips says it all. 

You can’t help the way you smile in response to his, eyes half-lidded as you lean in, brushing your lips against his, light as the first fragile snowflake to reach the ground. 

His lips part and you dive in, mouth settling firmly over his as your tongue slips in to brush against his. Your fingers brush his bangs away from his face and his fingers dig into your breast. He moans when your lips close around his tongue, sucking lightly, his hips bucking involuntarily beneath you. 

You pull away panting, watching his face twist with disapproval, full brows knitting together. His legs straighten out a bit and he tries to push you back, and you don’t have to look back to know how strained and flushed his erection is, the needy demand in his eyes and touch tipping you off.  

“Y/n,” he mutters, eyelashes fluttering as your lips trace a hot path along his neck, his head tilting to the side automatically. “Y/n...”

“Yes?” You pull back to look at him questioningly, as if you don’t know what he needs, what he’s been waiting for all day. 

He scowls you at you. You squint at him as if not understanding what he’s trying to say. “Fuck, y/n, I’m going to–“ 

“Tell me what you want,” you murmur pleasantly, cutting him off as you lean in, the tips of your noses nearly brushing. His bottom lip quivers, you feel his warm breath on your lips, but no words come out and you decide to help him out. “Do you want me to suck your cock? Is that it, baby?” 

Victor, glare wavering just the slightest bit, gives a small nod and you smile faintly–before your fingers come up to rest on his throat. He freezes, mostly in surprise, but you don’t increase the pressure, just digging in your nails lightly. 

“Say it.” The words are clipped, contrasting with your benign expression. His throat bobs under your touch as he swallows. You can almost see him weigh his options, the way he considers just flipping you over and fucking you senseless; but you’ve talked about this, and he knows you won’t mind but neither of you likes derailing from the agenda. 

“I need you–I need your mouth, your hands, anything. Please suck my dick.” He would never beg, but you’re nonetheless quite delighted with the beseeching note in his voice. 

“Anything for you,” you croon, planting a quick kiss on his cheek as he huffs before shuffling back and onto his thighs, reaching for his neglected cock. It brushes your thigh as you move, and it’s surprisingly difficult to steer yourself away from the thought of just-

Okay. No. Bad y/n.

You start with slow pumps, ducking your head to bring your mouth to it, giving soft kitten licks around the tip, the slightly salty taste of his wetness a familiar one. His breathing stutters as his hands grabbing fistfuls of the bedspread, keeping himself still as you work him diligently. 

It’s nice that he’s being so obedient, but would that remain so in the face of obstacles? You should test him, right? Victor loves his tests, after all. 

You take in as much of his length into your mouth as you can, continuing the motions of your hand as your tongue undulates along it. You take in his soft groan before letting him slip out of your mouth. And then, just as he raises his head to look at you, a protest on the tip of his tongue, you dip the tip of your tongue into the wet slit at the head of his cock–just the slightest bit, and thrilled shivers erupt all over your skin as he slams his head back into the pillow, a helplessly loud groan almost resembling a growl erupting from his mouth.

How lovely.

“Fuck, y/n, please–“ 

At that, you take him in your mouth once more, working it in tandem with your hand as you increase your pace with one goal in mind. Just when you know he’s close, his thighs tensing and his hips beginning to snap into your mouth, your fingers sneak down to fondle his balls carefully. 

Victor comes with a loud curse, a helpless groan of your name; warm, thick liquid fills your mouth and you swallow as much as you can, allowing the rest to dribble down your chin and over your fingers and his skin. You swallow forcefully as you lock eyes with him, savouring the flash of desire in his eyes. 

Victor’s breathing evens out slowly as you clean him up, his limbs relaxed and unmoving, and you start to wonder if he’s dozed off until you look up and catch him watching you. 

Going by the look on his face alone, sleeping seems to be the last thing on his mind. 

“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” You reach for his hand, bringing it up to brush your lips over his knuckles, relishing in his slightly flustered expression. 

You have to wonder why Victor’s so surprised. You did, after all, learn from the best.

He takes a moment to think about it, eyes darting to the harness resting harmlessly on a chair in the corner of the room. “Yes, I’m sure.” 

“Not too tired?” 

“No.” 

You study him for another moment before nodding. “I’ll get us ready, then. Safe word?”

“Dummy.” 

You share a smile at that, chuckling softly as you climb off the bed and reach for the strappy gear. Silently thanking YouTube as you clip it on, feeling like you’re about to raid a tomb, you reach for the chosen dildo and pivot, only to freeze in place. 

Victor seems to have taken it upon himself to get into one of the positions you’d researched, staying on his back and pulling his knees up until they’re closer to his chest, and the visual goes straight to your groin; you swear that you feel your cunt tremble from this sight alone, of this powerful man spread on his back for you, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s saying something. 

“Y/n?” he repeats, looking annoyed when you jump and look at him, before it shifts into something more self-conscious. “I think this should work.”

“Y-yeah...” You amble back over to the bed in a slight daze, grabbing the lube off the side table, sliding onto the bed deftly. Your mouth trembles and dries up: Victor, with his knees up, plugged for nearly an hour now, ready for you to fuck him.

“...Is everything okay?” he peers at you curiously, flushing slightly when you run your fingers over the backs of his thighs. His, now mostly flaccid, cock rests on his stomach, and you decide it to leave it alone for now. 

“Just wondering how I got so lucky,” you admit easily, a sly smile forming on your lips when he scoffs, but the pleased tilt of his mouth gives him away. “Did I mention you’re gorgeous?” 

“Yes, you did.” He averts his eyes but you don’t miss his slight smirk, prompting your own as you reach for the plug. His expression falters as you twist it in place, a soft sound leaving his throat. 

“I’m gonna pull this out now, okay?” 

“Mm.” He shifts as you pull the toy out, pouring the cool lube over your fingers; you circle the flexing hole, eyes darting between your hand and his face. A long finger slides in, followed by a second, and his eyelids flutter as you slide them in and out, marvelling at the way his walls clamp down on them.

“Feels okay?” 

“Yeah,” his mouth parts silently as you angle your wrist, brushing over where you’ve, in the past few weeks, come to know his prostate is. “Ah-feels good.”  You’re glad his eyes are closed; he misses your pleased grin. 

“Y/n,” he opens his eyes, waiting until you look away from the lovely sight of your fingers entering him and meet them, giving you a firm nod. “I’m ready.” 

You can’t help but remember saying those exact words to him, more than a year ago, the night you had sex with him for the first time. The way he grins lets you know he’s remembering the same thing, and you shake your head lightly as you pull your fingers out. 

Well, then, you should aim to be just as good as he was. A lofty goal, but you’ve been in a relationship with arguably the most enterprising man in the city for over a year–and you’re no stranger to ambition.

Once you’re sure the dildo is dripping with enough lube, you shuffle forward, guiding the tip to his entrance. You’re oddly nervous, even though you’ve spent weeks prepping for this, but Victor’s gaze is clear of any worry; his eyes, luminous and fervent, meet yours steadily. You reach for his hand, the one resting beside him, and lace your fingers through his tightly. 

You push the head of the toy through, a part of you wishing you could actually feel it, and stop there. 

“Keep going.” 

“Victor-“ 

“Keep going, y/n,” he gasps, “please.” 

You start moving at once, at his breathless demand, much to your chagrin–old habits do die hard. He groans deeply, chest heaving, hand squeezing yours. You still once you bottom out, your breath stuck in your chest as you watch him squirm, his jaw clenching as he adjusts.

“Okay?” you whisper, your walls squeezing almost despondently around nothing as you watch his cock get stiffer, as he opens eyes glazed over with arousal.

“Yeah,” Victor pushes his hips up lightly, “I’m good. Are you?” 

You try not to laugh, because he’s so sweet even when he’s the one with a five-inch dildo up his ass. “Perfect.” 

“Then move,” he commands, and you bite back a yes sir as you slide out halfway, before sliding back in. “Oh, fuck.” 

“Good?” 

“I love you,” he groans, and this time you do giggle as you start thrusting slowly. “Babygirl, ah, keep going.” 

It feels surreal to be on the receiving end of these words, to be the one fucking him, but you enjoy it immensely, even though the movement feels a bit strange. Perhaps you should’ve listened to Victor and opted for one of those dual dildos. But you’d wanted the first time to be about him, to focus on his pleasure and not let your own be a distraction. Your pace is steady, nearly a grind and he rocks his hips into yours. 

“Harder. I’m not made of glass-“ His choked gasp as you cut him off with a hard snap of your hips sends satisfaction rushing through your veins. No wonder he does it so often, you would love to see that again. 

It takes a few tries to angle it right, to have the toy brushing his prostate, but you’re rewarded by him writhing beneath you, your name falling from his lips in a curse and a prayer in turns. His cock, flushed and erect, bounces enticingly as you drill into him. You hope you’re not rushing when you reach for it, giving it a few quick pumps and Victor cracks. You let go of his cock in slight fear as he shouts, but his other hand finds yours and guides it back to his straining erection. 

“Please, fuck–I’m so close, baby, so close–“ he pants, his hips lifting to meet yours as you pick up your faltering pace. There’s a strange sort of desperation welling in you, a need to see him come, and your hand wraps around his cock firmly as you lift your interlocked hands to place them on his folded knee, his other leg having fallen to the side. 

With his lips parted, deep groans rumbling from his chest, stormy eyes shut tight–Victor looks ethereal as he comes, like a wild god falling apart beneath you. His seed spills over his chest, and he’s shaking, his hand lax in your grip, and you take a moment to breathe before sliding out as gently as you can. 

He hisses as you do so, looking up at you tiredly as you help him turn to his side, unclipping the harness hurriedly as you move over to his side, wiping impatiently at the sweat dripping down your cheeks. 

Your lips brush his temple as you stroke his damp hair gently, drawing a tiny hum from his throat as he presses his face into your stomach. Unsure if you should wake him up if he’s dozed off, you’re relieved when he stirs, tilting his head up and smiling as you kiss him softly. 

“Okay?” 

“Mm.” He moves as if to scoot closer, before pausing and staring down at his chest. 

“Right, here–“ 

Reaching for a small towel and handing him a glass of water as you clean him up, admittedly hovering as he takes small sips; you’re gifted with an eye-roll from him. 

“Calm down.” 

“How does a bath sound?” you ask instead. He considers you for a moment, taking in your nervous expression and wringing hands. He stretches, muscles rippling beneath his skin–and winces. You take that as a yes, scrambling off the bed.

“Only if you join me,” he calls after you as you run to the bathroom. He looks surprised when, after turning the water on, you run to the door of the bedroom. “What are you doing?” 

“Getting you a snack!” you answer over your shoulder, hurrying to the kitchen and grabbing the prepped bowl of fruit. You’re back at his side in record time, place the bowl on the bed as he lounges on his side, head propped up on a palm. 

“I’m fine, y/n,” he sighs, accepting the strawberry with a long-suffering look. 

“I know, but-”

“But nothing,” he pops another slice into his mouth. You settle behind him and he leans back into your arms, something sly in the curve of his smile. You pepper every inch of skin you can reach with soft kisses, resisting the urge to hold him tighter. “Although I could get used to this.”

Your mind flashes back to his face when you first slid into him, the way he’d moaned shamelessly as you thrust into him, the way he fell to pieces when he came. And then you take in the way he’s sunk into your embrace, nibbling contentedly on the snack he ‘didn’t need.’ 

“Yeah. Me too.”

[hey-hamlet]

*reads teaser lists* *sees the bit about quirkless izuku in a cult* me: ... tell me more

Izuku’s Mum sends him into a rural town for a few months to live with some of Hisashi’s relatives, both to get him out of the house and away from heroes, she just wants Izuku to see that big city life isn’t the only way to live.

This is loosely inspired by the town of Jakku from Butterfly by @aconstantstateofbladerunner.

This is set during the holiday between his second and final year of middle school.

Izuku also runs a niche YouTube channel called ’Theoretically’ where he posts various quirk breakdowns, theory videos on various villain attacks and does a little amateur detective work linking villain groups and attacks. He’s pretty good at it and has a solid 100’000ish subscribers. (One of them might be Nighteye – he’s convinced the kid must have connections to villains because his breakdowns of villain’s quirks and his detective work is around 85% correct which is crazy for an untrained 14 year old.)

So, as something to do in this town, he decides to vlog his experience in the small town. He mostly expects to do nothing but film from cooking, a few deer and possibly ask a few questions of the police and the small-town heroes. He is Wrong.

Turns out it’s not such a normal small town.

While the town actually has a slightly lower number of quirkless people than average, those who are there are treated like royalty. They don’t have to work, can just walk into a store and expect food to be given to them, walk into any home and sit down to eat. Each of them is marked with a golden band around their wrist, and everyone knows them by name.

See, turns out this town is home to the cult “Purity”, who believes anyone without a quirk is the more ideal form of man, and those with them are inferior and deviate from perfection. As soon as Izuku enters the town, his relatives rejoice at a quirkless kid born to their family, mark him with a band and make it very clear they will be trying to convince him to stay in their little town.

Izuku, creeped the fuck out, calls him mother. He’s lacking anything but bad vibes at this point and he didn’t exactly want to go in the first place, so his mother encourages him to stick it out, and that small-town people can be a little quirky. He agrees reluctantly.

His ‘family’ was listening, and decide to ominously say that Izuku is really better off here than at home, and if his mother bore such a wonderous child, then maybe she’d be happier in the town as well. Izuku decides then and there he can’t bring his mother into this because he’s pretty sure they are all batshit crazy.

 Others get involved:

Bakugo is admittedly the only other number Izuku has on his phone, other than his mother. Two days in, he cracks and calls. Bakugo is furious Izuku dared to call him, but he quiets down a little when he hears what Izuku has to say. Izuku manages to appeal to the mystery-loving side of Bakugo he tries so hard to suppress. He is allowed to spend a few weeks in the town without much fanfare, packs a bag and hops on the next train, mystery eating at him.

Shinsou, a subscriber and friend of Izuku’s, is one of the first people to grasp that the town is bad news bears, other than Izuku himself. He manages to convince his parents (the pro heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic) to let him go on a holiday to a sleepy little town by himself, provided he calls every night. He is welcomed into the fold as a friend of Izuku, staying with him both to try and keep his friend safe and help unravel the mystery.

The three of them end up bonding as they try to unravel the greater mysteries behind the town, and we get some lovely character growth from the three of them, including Bakugo learning he's been a dick and realising he needs to fix that a little, Shinsou working out that people who judge him for his quirk aren’t normal but arseholes and Izuku gets a nice helping of courage. All three of them get a few new trauma’s along with them, but that’s neither here nor there.

HHH you’re making me want to write this as a full fic. I already have 2. hecc don’t tempt me.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

That Be Some Good Buttercream

Summary- Steve and Bucky get your help in replicating a howling commando days battle using Christmas baking fun. But... Does anything ever quite work out the way it should? Set in the same characters I used in Night In, Looking Pretty Fly and Popping Pez and Mismatched Socks. Written for @official-and-unstable-satan​ 300 Follower Celebration Challenge. She still has many prompts, check it out. Prompts in italiacs. No warnings, all fluffy. 

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- so proud of your accomplishments babes, you are an amazing writer and I love getting lost in your stories and listening to your ideas. I know your just gonna keep going up from here. Love you always babygirl 💚😈💚😈💚😈💚

“Bucky, they came around from the south end” 

“No they did not. I remember Steve, I was there.”

“Yea, and so was I” 

You and Sam had been listening to the two super soldiers carry on at the oversized table in the compounds kitchen dining area for a good hour before you readjusted the volume on the tv once more. Sam, half laying over half the couch remained scrolling on his phone, remarking. 

“Aint gonna do you no good, they just get louder.”

You sigh and hit the off button, he was right. Might as well go see what these two were up to anyways. Pushing yourself off the couch, Sam promptly stretched his legs out onto where you were sitting, making himself comfterable. “See you on the other side Kid!” He joked, settling into watching youtube. 

Wandering in, you saw the two men bent over  large map, Steve with pencil in hand drawing arrows to discern where they started from, stretching it across what looked like a military base. Bucky shook his head. 

“No no no, Punk, I wasnt up there, I was down here” 

“Bucky, I had you up on the highest point, it just looks weird on paper.” 

“You know what, this is pointless.” You could see Bucky getting aggitated with there project, pushing himself away from the table. “We need like... a 3D model to get this right.” 

Steve to straightened up, his arms folding as he looked down at the heavily marked paper. “Well... Tony does have some...” You interrupt in this time, moving over to the table and taking a peek at what they were doing. 

“You know, I have an idea of how to make you two a 3D model.” Both the men quirked brows, curious as to what you had in mind. "Givingerbread reanatcment.” 

You expected a rebuttal, a laugh, anything, since you were joking. But the two of them actually looked thoughtful, glancing at each other. “It would be easier then trying to draw it out” Steve mentioned. “And easier then trying to get Tony to set up the AI model for us.” 

“Plus we get some fucking cookies... Im in.” Bucky grinned, obviously pleased in the options of snacks. What started as a joke from you became a very serious matter as the two Soldiers dragged you into the kitchen. The two of them looking at you expectedly. 

“I was just joking guys, Im not making you a hydra replica gingerbread base. You know how much shit that would take.” At this point you backtracking a bit, wishing the words hadnt fallen out of your mouth so damn easily cause you thought is was funny. 

“Nonsense, you wont be doing all of it. Were going to help.” Steves already moving to wash his hands as Bucky is digging through a drawer and slipping on a god damn “Kiss the Cook” apron, he found in a drawer, ties it swiftly around his back and rolls up his sleeves. 

“You know you always wanted to boss us around Doll.” Bucky smirks, wiggling brows in a teasing manner. “You finally get your chance.” 

You look between the two men, the two of them nodding in encouragement, Steve composed as ever, waiting for You to explain how to start, and Bucky well he was opening drawers, pulling out random stuff that he thought you might use. He held up a spatula with a smirk, slapping the utinsel against his palm. “How about we get this train moving kids.” 

Relenting, you turn to your phone for a recipe. “Okay fine, since you all insist. We need flour, sugar, eggs, ginger, cinnamon....” While your listing, both men are scrambling to find everything, and piling it on the counter, yourself you bring out some bowls, cookie cutters, lets face it. You needed the actual men to decorate like howling commandos. Turning on the oven to get it preheated, you search for decorations. “Steve, store run? We gotta make this accurate you know, and Buckys all dressed up for a day baking. Hate to send him." You just kinda motion lver Buckys getup, the kiss the cook stretched over his chest, the apron a size to small for him really.

Your already grabbing paper and jotting down a detailed list of food coloring, frosting, candies and such. Steve snatched the list when you held it out, he had a general idea of it all and nodded. "Dont hesitate to put Bucky to work. He just pretends to be all intimidating."

You roll your eyes and back in the kitchen theres a "Steve your a dick" retort from Bucky whos looking over the mess of ingredients piled on the counter. Steve, seemingly joyful as he grabbed keys and left, you suspect you might not see him at least another hour or two. No worries, you had the other super soldier on hand.

Heading back in you hand Bucky a bowl and eggs. "Start cracking, separating yolk from white, and no shells." You cant help but from watching him, looking a bit like a lost child, before he he starts to crack eggs and inspect for shells. You watch from the corner of your eye as you put together the dry ingredients, and start mesuring out the molasses, talking him through the rest of the buttercream frosting ingredients.

Dipping your finger in his finished product, you lick the tip of your finger, smirking at his widened eyes. Yea Steve, hes very intimidating. You maybe took a bit to much pleasure in teasing Bucky on occasion. "Mmmhh my very favorite part.... "

He cleared his throat and looked away, it might be a bit mean, but he would give it back later, this was a dance the two of you played. "Okay, what now?" He said a bit gruff and you grab your rolling pin, holding it to him.

Eyeing it a moment, his brow arched. "Ya want me to roll the dough?"

"Yea Buck, nice and thin, since you two want to make all these outer buildings as well." Pointing to Steve's sketching, And you reached in the dough and piled it on the counter on front of Bucky. "And Steve said to put you to work."

"I notice you gave Steve the easy job." He muttered as he started to flatten the dough.

"I knew you were more capable."

Bucky couldn't hide the grin at the compliment, and afterwards you both measured, cut and got the cookie sheets in the oven. Stealing part of the couch back from Sam and watching trash tv till the oven beeped. Bucky vaulted over the couch, head back into the kitchen and pulled them out of the oven.

"Are they firm?" You ask, peeking at them, a light brush of your fingers against them. The room smelled like bake gingerbread and smooth sugar. Tempting delectables to say the least.

"Yup, now what?"

"Cool and mantle your buildings." You say as You slide them off onto wire racks. "Go get the frosting, and I will show you." Already he was rummaging in the fridge to retrieve it. Peeling off the plastic cling, you pick up one of the cooler pieces and edged it with icing. Folding two pieces together. "Easy as that. You try."

Bucky took it so seriously, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he piped that icing. His brows furrowed together in a dip right at the center. You bite back a grin and get a large dollop of icing on your finger and flick it at the man. Landing right in his face. He drops his cookie in surprise and blinks though the icing. "Fucken hell, Y/N! Whats that for?" Wiping it off, he flicks it back at you and you squeal getting hit.

That's war!

"Oh its on Barnes" smirking as you grab a cookie and crumble it, shooting it at him. Cookies fly, icing it flung, flour, and sugar is used to blind one another, you two ducked around the table, screaming and yelling insults playfully.

Bucky tried using the hose at the kitchen sink to spray you, in which you ducked and rolled right into him, the two of you collapsing in a heap on the floor among all your hard work, broken and scattered. Steve stood in the doorway, arms laden with two paper bags, his jaw hanging open at the mess. Bucky pokes you to get your attention and the two of you sit up, covered. Head to toe in frosting, flour and cookies.

"I was just gone an hour..."

"Its a long time to be left unsupervised." You shrug as you smear some frosting off your shirt and lick it off your finger, Bucky helped himself to your shirt frosting to since he had thrown half the bowl on you.

"Oh damn, thats good!" He grins.

"What about this is good?! You mean your gingerbread murder scene?!" Steve toed a dead gingerbread man with the tip of his shoe.

Bucky looked around and glared at his friend. "IT WAS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE" His voice raided to defend the mess and you promptly stuff a cookie in his mouth to shut him up.

"Come on Steve. Did the Hydra base not look like this after you two and the howling commandos were done?" You throw a cookie at him which bounced off his chest. "Eat a cookie, you feel better" next to you Bucky continued eating broken gingerbread men, grinning at his friend and nodding.

"Best damn cookies besides your mama's!" Bucky added between mouthfuls

"I just... Pick this up you two before tony throws a fit." Turning with the bags of candy he bought, passing Sam, he ditched them on the man still scrolling youtube

"You couldn't watch them for two seconds Sam?"

"And break up that little love fest? Puh-lease" Sam grinned at Steve and dug into the paper bags looking through the snacks, pulling out twizzlers.

"SCORE!"

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @kitkatd7 @stuckonjbbarnes @sebbbystaaan @kimisama1989 @simsadventures @that-damn-girl @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @stardancerluv​ @princess-evans-addict​