#god glee was a messed up show

[rcmclachlan]

One of my most persistent headcanons is that the 118 and the 217 work together in secret to try and get Buck and Tommy back together because none of them can take it anymore. They're all sick to death of the moping, the constant checking of phones, the sad, wistful smiles, the baking—oh god, they're so sick of the baking. Hen's ready to throttle Buck because Chimney's AIC levels are through the roof and if he becomes pre-diabetic she won't be responsible for her actions.

Not to mention the sad playlists. Lucy has been forced to listen to "Wasted Time" by the Eagles so often that if she ever sees Don Henley on the street she's gonna beat the ever-loving fuck out of him.

It isn't long before someone from one station reaches out to the other, because enough already, and then the 118 and 217 are meeting every Friday to brainstorm ways to get these idiots in a room together. But, oddly enough, it feels almost like the universe is working against them.

For one thing, their shifts never line up, even though Bobby and Captain Carson coordinate almost daily on making sure Buck's and Tommy's schedules match. They've even roped a few folks over at Dispatch into it to ensure the 217 and the 118 work the same calls. Despite this, there's a slew of emergencies that manage to mess up all their planning, pulling the 118 and the 217 to opposite sides of the city—or, in some cases, keeping one on the ground while the other is called to the sky.

Once it becomes apparent that The Great Reunification™ isn't going to happen on a call, they shift their efforts to group outings. The 217 are regular haunts of The Naughty Pig—they have a designated table and everything, right next to the staircase. So Eddie starts making noise about wanting to check out this one bar in West Hollywood that he hears is really cool and unpretentious, with an excellent selection of beer and cocktails, and after about a week of him dropping the most unsubtle hints in history, they get Buck to leave King Arthur and his flour in peace for a night so they can grab a drink at The Naughty Pig.

Except, when they show up, Tommy's nowhere to be found. While the others distract Buck by trying to get a table, Dana catches Hen's gaze and makes a small, throat-cutting gesture. They meet in the bathroom and Dana says Tommy went home sick earlier with what she suspects is pneumonia. Which means Hen's going to spend the night in this cool bar while Buck gets white girl wasted on Bud Light. By the time he's on his 8th and warbling into the table about Glee for whatever reason, Hen decides to call it a night.

A week or so after that, Eddie goes for broke and disconnects the battery in his car. That same night, Buck comes over to hang out and play video games (and offload a metric fuck ton of muffins), and when they decide to grab pizza, uh oh! Eddie's truck isn't starting.

He makes a big scene of looking under the hood, but he just can't find the problem. Buck's like "That really sucks but we can always take the jeep?" but no, Eddie needs his truck, how can he live and work without his precious Denali? He decides to call a buddy of his to come over and try to fix the issue, so he leaves the room and calls Tommy, who's surprised to hear from Eddie (which makes Eddie feel like a monster, because, yes, he hasn't really been in touch with Tommy since the breakup but he never meant for Tommy to think their friendship was collateral damage).

Tommy agrees to make the drive over, and Eddie walks back into the living, patting himself on the back, only to find Buck putting his shoes on. Maddie had called while Eddie was on the phone: Mrs. Lee was taken to the hospital by ambulance after a bad fall and Chim and Maddie need him to babysit Jee while they go to LA General. So not only does Eddie's plan backfire spectacularly in a way he can't even be mad about, but Tommy gives him shit for a week because Eddie apparently can't plug a loose cable into a battery on his own.

After that, the 118 and the 217 convene at their usual Friday spot and the mood is dour. Nico thinks it might be time to throw in the towel, and despite everyone making noise about it, no one can really argue with him. They'd given it their all, but the house won.

Then Lucy swans in, takes one look at their disappointed faces, and slaps a piece of paper down onto the table. It's a flyer for the Backdraft Ball next month.

Chim looks up at her, expression grave, and asks, "Do you really think this will work?"

"It's either this or I go to jail for murdering every single living member of the Eagles," Lucy says. "Which I might do anyway. I haven't decided."

"Well, we've come this far." Hen lifts her glass and surveys the rest of the table.

"And if it fails," Dana says, the corner of her mouth twitching like she maybe, possibly thinking about smiling within the next decade. "I can't say I haven't enjoyed this. It's been fun hanging out with you weirdos."

Rapping his knuckles on the table top, Eddie cheers, "Hear hear!"

"Your speaking privileges haven't been reinstated," Dana snaps. "Put a sock in it."

"I told you, the mustache was a toxic symbol! You can't still be mad about me shaving it!"

Dana sniffs and takes a dainty sip of her wine. "You look like a mutant four-year old."

"All right," Chim announces, standing. "Operation: Last Ditch Effort is a go."

They clink their glasses to seal the deal. When Dana knocks hers into Eddie's, his stein shatters.

A month passes and everyone's been talking about nothing except the Backdraft Ball, which Buck can't understand. In the eight years he's been a firefighter, they've never once attended.

"Didn't you once call it a pathetic get together for people who had to get their stomachs pumped on prom night?" He asks Hen, who's browsing the Local Eclectic website for earrings to go with her admittedly amazing jumpsuit.

Hen shrugs. "What can I say, Buckaroo? I've grown as a person."

Meanwhile, at the 217, Lucy corners Tommy in the Bell-205 and says, "If you don't go to the Backdraft Ball with me, I'm gonna tell everyone you said Elon Musk is a genius who's going to save the country."

Horrified, he says, "That's a fucking lie! You know I hate him more than my dad!"

Lucy smiles meanly. "I do know that. No one else does, though."

Later, when she's alone, she sends the group chat two emojis: a helicopter and a thumbs up.

Finally, the big night arrives and everyone's dressed to the nines. Even Buck can't help but be a little excited, because he's in a really nicely tailored tux, courtesy of Ravi for some reason, and there's a literal mountain of scallops wrapped in bacon, which he stands next to for most of the night until Maddie, who came as Chimney's date, wanders over and asks why he's not mingling.

"I dunno," he says, shoving his sixty-seventh scallop into his mouth. "I-I always thought... I guess I hoped I'd come to one of these with Tommy, you know? He's such a sucker for the whole all-eyes-on-you thing. He never went to any of his school dances, not even prom, because he wouldn't get to dance with the people he really wanted. I... I wanted to be that for him."

While Buck turns to the scallop mountain—which is more of a foothill now, thanks to his tireless efforts—Maddie looks across the ballroom where Lucy is talking to Tommy. Their gazes lock. Over Tommy's shoulder, Lucy jerks her head toward the dance floor, where they're playing some golden oldies and dozens of ancient captains are dancing with their wives to The Girl From Yesterday.

Maddie nods, then grabs Buck's hand. "C'mon. I want to get at least one dance in before the night's over."

Pulling a scallop off a toothpick, Buck squints. "Where's Chim? Isn't that, like, one of his duties as your husband?"

"Last I saw him, he was trying to convince Chief Simpson to install crazy slides in all the firehouses," Maddie says sunnily. "And honestly? Chief Simpson looked intrigued. So suck it up and take your sister for a spin."

Buck rolls his eyes and pops one more scallop into his mouth for the road, but he goes with her without complaint. Maddie stops at their table and says she's going to text their babysitter. She sends the group chat the green circle emoji. It's go time.

Elsewhere, Lucy slips her phone into her purse, then grabs Tommy's arm and says, "Great news! Dana's gonna make the DJ play something else before I burn the building down, which means we can get a dance in."

Wordlessly, Dana gets out of her seat and heads toward the front of the room.

Lucy drags Tommy into the crowd and makes sure to keep his line of sight away from where Maddie is doing the same to Buck. They've only got one shot at this and the timing has to be perfect.

Her cheek on Buck's chest, Maddie holds Lucy's gaze and gently leads him into a half circle, just as Lucy does the same with Tommy. Lucy gives a sharp nod of her head and, hands on Tommy's arms, spins him around so that when Maddie puts a hand on Buck's chest and shoves him as hard as she can, Tommy's there to break his fall.

"H-Hey, what was th—" Buck looks up with wide, outraged eyes, but the words stick in his throat when he sees who caught him.

Tommy's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Even if he'd been able to find the words, the sweet keys of an old piano would've drowned them out.

Smirking, Lucy shoves Tommy a little closer, just as Nat King Cole croons "Unforgettable... that's what you are."

Lucy makes a note to buy Dana lunch the next time they're on shift, because, damn, good choice.

Almost as if he's helpless to stop himself, Tommy tightens his hold on Buck's waist, wrapping his arm a little tighter around him, and Buck can't prevent a shaky gasp from punching out of him when he gets a whiff of Tommy's cologne. He puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder to steady himself, unerringly stepping closer until they're chest to chest.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't..." He trails off, caught in Tommy's gaze, and he doesn't blink out of fear that this is some mercury-induced hallucination from all the scallops.

Smiling a little, Tommy takes Buck's hand in his. "You're free to say no, but—"

"Yes," Buck says immediately, nodding, tightening his fingers around Tommy's. "Yeah, let's, uh. Yeah."

Catching Maddie's gaze, Lucy jerks her head back toward the refreshment table, where the rest of their group is waiting. Hen's got the biggest shit-eating grin on her face, and Nico is dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a corner of Dana's shawl.

"Nicely done," Lucy says to Maddie, who preens a little.

"If you'd let me in on your little scheme earlier, I could've had them back together in a day."

They accept the back slaps and high-fives they've more than earned, then turn just in time for Buck to rest his cheek against Tommy's as they sway together. Maddie squints a little, but she thinks she sees Tommy murmuring along with Natalie Cole. "No, never before... has someone been more..."

She sniffles a little and happily takes the plate of fruit and cheese that Chimney hands her.

"Save the Studio Ghibli tears for the wedding," he says teasingly, then adopts the weird Brooklyn accent he busts out sometimes. "Ya did good, kid."

"I did good," Dana breaks in. "And if they use this song for their first dance, I take full credit."

She looks over at Nico, who's using a toothpick—with a zucchini and goat cheese rollup still skewered on it—to get something out from beneath his nail, and smacks him upside the head.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I've stopped shaving," Eddie says to her, gesturing toward his face with a can of ginger ale. "Am I allowed to speak again?"

She gives him a deadpan look. "Give it another week, then maybe. Right now you look like you're going through puberty again."

"Better than being four," he says cheerfully.

The group content themselves with watching Buck and Tommy for another minute, but when Buck tilts his head ever so slightly to brush his nose against Tommy's, Lucy makes a face. "I guess this means we don't need to keep meeting up on Fridays, huh?"

"Whoever said that?" Hen grins. "I still haven't managed to beat you at air hockey, Donato. I demand a rematch."

"Plus, my friend Josh has been a little unlucky in love these days and could use a hand," Maddie chimes in, then gestures toward the dance floor. "Our results speak for themselves."

The song has changed, but Buck and Tommy haven't noticed, too busy wrapped up in each other.

Lucy tilts her head and smiles. It looks like Tommy's exhaled for the first time in weeks.

Don Henley gets to live another day.

[localplaguenurse]

Casper NSFW Headcanons

I am not immune to the grim reaper babygirl even a little bit. These are more "first time" headcanons.

Mentions of male and female anatomy for MC/reader/you, dom reader, oral (giving and receiving), a lot of teasing/praising, and inexperienced Casper, topping and bottoming. Also, this gets fucking LONG. REALLY LONG. Honestly should've just written actual smut but the voices told me to write headcanons...

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, RESPECT THE HONOUR SYSTEM

Since Casper has never fallen for a mortal before and is/was a workaholic, he’s inexperienced in all matters of intimacy, especially physical.

Like, if you’re not his first kiss then you haven’t kissed him yet levels of inexperienced.

The first thing you two do, after you’ve pushed him down on your bed with glee, is kiss. And it’s okay! He has really soft lips, and it’s a simple peck, so not a lot to mess up there.

It’s when you try to do deeper, longer kisses that his inexperience shows.

Should he be tilting his head more? Should he push more against you- oh god there’s your tongue, in his mouth, feeling around, does he do the same? Where does he put his hands? 

You have to really walk him through it and be patient about it. His tongue work is going to be awkward and sloppy, and you’re gonna bump teeth the first couple times, but he’ll eventually get the hang of it. 

You’ll also have to remind him that he’s allowed to pull away so he can breathe. His face is cute when red, but you don’t wanna see if it’s just as cute when it’s blue. (I mean, it’s not like it’ll kill him, but still...)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think his flushed face, wet lips, and panting were cute though. 

Hickies are fun. It’s super easy to leave teeth marks and suck bruises on his pale skin, and it’ll make him whimper as you do. Tease him about how flustered he is over a couple love bites, and he’ll get pouty and deny it. 

In fact, he’ll wanna mark you up as revenge, but he also just only learned how to kiss like ten minutes ago so he’s gotta learn how to give hickies too. He gets frustrated when he sucks on your skin but not enough to leave a lasting mark. That said, it is fun to do, and your skin is so soft against his tongue and lips, so he’ll keep trying. 

He sits back all smug over finally leaving a bruise, but his neck is covered in teeth marks and bruises. Please, please bully him about that. 

I need to stress this right now: you can tease and bully him as much as you want, do not degrade him.

The harshest name you can call him is a slut, but it has to be wrapped in praise (i.e. “such a good little slut…”). You could probably get away with calling him pathetic in the heat of the moment every now and again, but that is it. He will not react well to degradation. He wants and needs to be praised.

Play with his hair. Pull on it so you can tilt his head back and leave kisses all over his neck and jaw. Kiss up to his ear to tell him what a good boy he’s being, your sweet little reaper. He’ll melt right then and there. 

Constantly feeling you up, it’s both his attempt at teasing you (especially with his cold hands) but mostly just him trying to figure out what he’s doing. If you tell him he’s not allowed to touch you, then he’s gonna be white knuckling the sheets. 

Another easy way to get some really pretty noises out of him? Play with his chest and nipples, they’re very sensitive. 

He’s ashamed at how easy it is to get him hard. You don’t have to do that much. Just straddle him and make out with him for a bit, let him touch your body or play with his hair. You’ll feel him press against you in no time, and he’ll whine at the friction of his pants against his cock.

Just whatever you do, don’t touch it. Don’t feel it, don’t rub it, and absolutely do not grind against it. Not unless you want him to cream his pants immediately. (Let's be honest: you do.)

Actually, you won’t even need to touch him to make him cum. All your teasing, your kissing, touching, the warmth of your skin and smell of your shampoo and your hands running through his hair and the sound of your voice, it’s too much.

You’ll feel his hips jerk and back arch, and he’ll make the prettiest little noise you’ve ever heard. It’ll take you a moment to realize what’s happened, your eyes trailing down to see the wet spot where his cock is pressed up against his pants. 

When you do finally let his cock out, it’s rock hard, dripping precum, flushed a pretty shade of pink and has a patch of white hair at the base. He keeps it well maintained, which you shouldn’t be surprised by considering his thorough skincare routine. 

Any and all bravado is out the window the exact moment you touch his cock. Whatever insult or snarky comment he had on his mind or smug look on his face is immediately gone once he feels your fingers graze it. 

You can tease him as much as you want when he’s like this and he won’t do anything about it. Can’t do anything about it. He’ll be a whiny mess for you whether he wants to be or not, but in the moment, he doesn’t care as long as you touch him. 

It won’t take much to make him cum, just pump your hand up and down while you kiss and bite at his neck, and tell him about how cute he is right now, how good he is, how he can just relax because you’re gonna take such good care of him. 

The only reason he doesn’t immediately cum is because he’s masturbated to the thought of you before so he knows what it feels like, but his “self care” is nothing compared to you yourself actually touching him. 

He will immediately cum if you go down on him. With your hand it was one thing, but your mouth is so warm and wet and your tongue feels so good he can’t hold back. 

His hips will buck up reflexively, shoving himself deeper inside by accident as his cum shoots down your throat. He’ll babble apologies profusely for it but is immediately cut off by his own sobs when you keep going.

God it would be so fun to overstimulate him. He’d be crying, tears in his eyes, babbling about how it’s too much, it feels too good, and his body’s shivering and writhing because it doesn’t know if it wants to get away or if it wants more. 

Edging would also be fun, just to hear him whine and beg for you every time you brought him to the edge, only to slow down and pull back. He’s pleading with you to let him cum, please let him cum, he’ll be good, please. How can you say no to that face?

Since you’ve treated him so nicely, it’s only fair he returns the favour and goes down on you too, right? Right. 

You’ll have to talk him through it, how you like to be touched. Go ahead and grab his hair, use it to really guide him by pulling his face closer to your sex. If he’s not all mushy by that point, he’ll tease you about being needy for him (like he’s one to talk…).

Sucking cock is simple enough, though you can see in his eyes he’s a little nervous about it. He’ll slowly pump his hand up and down as a tester, gauging if you like what he’s doing and if he should go faster. He’ll then stick his tongue out and hesitantly lick the tip, and that surprised look on his face when you moan is to die for.

It’s enough of a push that he’ll take the tip in his mouth and lightly suck on it while stroking you, and every time you groan about how fucking good his mouth feels, it encourages him to take more of you in his mouth.

Be vocal with him, but most of all, be patient. Tell him what he’s doing right and what you want him to do, guide him by his hair if you wanna, but don’t expect him to be ready to deepthroat you yet. He’s still gotta work on that, so just savour the feelings he’s giving you now.

Let him know when you’re going to come, and more importantly, where, because otherwise he won’t know what to do. If you don’t wanna cum in his mouth, he’ll pull himself away and keep jerking you off until you cum. Try not to cum on his face, as tantalizing as the sight is. You can maybe get away with it once on purpose, or if it’s an accident.

Casper’s not a spitter, but he’s not a swallower? He actually doesn’t know what to do when you cum in his mouth. He’ll literally sit there with his mouth full and dick hard just staring at you until you either tell him to swallow or give him something to spit in. Call him a good boy when he swallows. Or if he doesn’t. Just call him a good boy either way.

It takes him some time to figure out how to eat you out right, but luckily for him it still feels really nice when he’s practicing. 

His fingering technique needs a little work, mostly because he’s very unsure of himself. One’s not enough, two looks and certainly sounds good on your end, does he need to add more, or will that hurt? He wants to make sure he’ll fit when he gets to the big finish, but three fingers feels excessive, unless you like that? Is he going too fast, too slow, too deep, not deep enough? Does he curl his fingers here? Oh, you squeezed his fingers just now, that means he’s doing something good, but what’s he doing?

Thank god for the clitoris. Finds it without you having to guide him because it’s literally at the top, it’d be harder not to find it. All you need to tell him is your preferred pace and he’ll rub at it with ease, taking immense pride at how quickly you fall apart with that dumb little smile. (Just ignore him grinding against the bedsheets or stroking his cock, he’s totally in control right now.)

Kinda like with giving head, he starts with little kitten licks to your clit before getting more confident as he listens to your moans and praises. He’ll especially love it if you push his face into you so he can suck and lick harder. He’ll groan against you unintentionally, but when he hears the sound you make at the vibrations of his mouth, he’ll latch onto your clit and start humming and sucking as hard as he can.

Loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue. The way your hips buck up, the way you tighten your grip on his hair, grinding against his face, your juices slathered all over his lips and tongue, gods he’ll never get over it. He’ll clean you up with his tongue and sit up, trying to look smug, but he’s not fooling anyone with the flushed face, the hearts in his eyes, or the wet patch on the front of his pants.

He’ll think you’re weird if you wanna kiss him after he goes down on you, but quickly shuts up once you plant your lips on his. Your tongue in his mouth is a very compelling argument.

Now comes the part he’s been most excited and nervous for; actually being inside you.

You are taking the lead regardless, because he doesn’t know what to do. Well, he knows, but he’s not fully confident in his abilities.

Just lay him back, tell him all he has to do is relax. You’ll take such good care of him.

He is tense when he feels you straddling him, your bare sex rubbing up against his teasingly. He wants to tell you to get on with it already, but his mind is in a daze and the only thing he can focus on is telling himself not to cum yet, you haven’t even put it in.

He’s gripping your bed sheets or your hips as tight as he can when he feels you finally start to sink down on his cock. He can cover his mouth, grit his teeth, whatever, but you KNOW that boy is whimpering inch by inch.

It’s enough that once you actually make it to the base, he’s reduced to the most pitiful mess of a grim reaper, trying so hard to keep what little composure he has, and the two of you have hardly started?

He will not last long in this state. The feel of your tight warm walls hugging around him so tight, and the way you move up and down his length is too much for him to handle.

He’s sorta sensitive about how quickly he cums, so you have to be careful about how, when, and if you tease him about it. You can tease him when he creams his pants, so long as it’s along the lines of “you feel that good already?” 

When he cums prematurely inside you, be gentle with him, coo in his ear that it’s okay, it happens sometimes, you’re happy you make him feel so good, he’s being such a good boy for you.

And then you milk that poor boy for everything he’s worth. Watch his teary eyes roll back as his hips buck up to meet yours, shooting load after load until you’ve drained him of everything he’s got. He’ll be incoherent, sobbing and muttering “please please please” because it’s the only thing he’s able to say.

Hold his hand.

As if this google doc I’m writing in isn’t long enough, let’s talk pegging.

He’s going to be nervous about bottoming, he won’t even pretend he’s not. He doesn’t really know what he’s getting into, but he’s willing to try so long as you talk him through what you need to do.

In theory it’s all good, until he has your fingers thrusting into his hole, pressing into his sweet spot while you purr in his ear about all the things you’re going to do to him tonight. He really should have seen that coming considering it’s his Sunshine we’re talking about here, but he’s in too much pleasure to complain.

He’ll be too embarrassed to be face to face with you, so you suggest doing it from behind. Again, great in theory, until you have him face down ass up with your chest to his back. This position is arguably more embarrassing, but Casper is also stubborn and at least you can’t see his face.

Kiss all over his neck and shoulder blades and along his spine, it’ll make him shiver.

You have to take it really slow at first, of course. It’s his first time doing something like this, and you don’t wanna hurt him. Once you’ve slowly inched yourself to the base, give him a minute to get used to the fullness.

You’ll start slow and soft, but you don’t have to stay that way. In fact, he’ll love it if you start going faster, harder, deeper. He wants to feel you hit his prostate again and again, making him see stars every time you do.

You don’t even need to touch his cock, he’ll be falling apart anyways with the way you fuck him, but it’s so fun to overstimulate him anyways so go ahead, jerk him off while you do it.

He’ll try to muffle his sounds in the pillows. Sure, you can let him because it’s honestly really cute, but you can also pull him away by either tugging his hair or grabbing him by the jaw and lifting his head up. He’ll be a drooling, teary eyed mess, but he’s your teary eyed mess. Make sure you tell him that.

If you can, don’t be shy filling him up either. When he’s all fucked out, the feeling is absolutely addicting. Will probably get grumpy about the mess once he’s in a clearer headspace, but he’s also not gonna tell you to stop.

Oh, he’ll be nothing but mush when you two are done the deed. Not only is he too tired and blissed out to move, but he’ll be so cuddly and sweet, murmuring about how much he loves you and how good you are to him, for him. (He will vehemently deny he was that sappy once he’s snapped out of it though.)

Cuddles are absolutely mandatory post sex, he needs a little skin on skin time and to relish in the afterglow before the two of you get cleaned up.

It’s as you two are huddled together under the covers, about to fall asleep, that you hear Casper groggily mumble a little “thank you,” for treating him so well for his first time and showing him the ropes.

He’ll smirk at you and say that next time he’s going to use his knowledge against you, but both of you know that it doesn’t matter how experienced he is, it’s not gonna happen. 

You don’t get the chance to poke fun at him about it though, as he’s already fallen asleep. You kiss his forehead and cuddle up closer.

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 4

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1 | Part 5 --->

Simon was on his way. The same mysterious, masked man who’d ghosted her texts and made her heart race for weeks was now on his way to pick her up. She clutched her phone, trying to keep calm as her friends, despite barely standing, noticed her sudden panic.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lottie asked, steadying herself by holding onto her arm. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Her eyes darted away as she tried to brush it off. “Uh, it’s nothing. Just… kind of a weird story,” she muttered.

“Oh, hell no,” Alexa cut in, her eyes bright with alcohol and intrigue. “Out with it.”

With a sigh and a helpless shrug, she finally spilled the story, trying to keep her voice steady. “Remember last month? When I said I got a weird Uber ride?”

“Yeah, yeah, with the mask guy,” Lottie chimed in, barely containing a giggle. “Wait—that’s him?!”

“Uh… yeah,” she admitted, cheeks burning. “And when I tried to text him ‘hello’ like a week later, he just… never answered.”

“Girl, and you still have him in your contacts? Under ‘Simon personal uber’?” Alexa teased, snickering.

Her cheeks flushed. “Look, it was just an inside joke with myself! I didn’t think I’d ever need to actually call him again!”

Just then, a truck pulled up to the curb, headlights cutting through the dark street. She glanced over, her stomach doing a flip as she recognized it instantly. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Lottie and Alexa, their grins wide and very tipsy, leaned close. “That’s him?” Lottie whispered, her voice barely containing her glee.

She nodded, feeling like her heart was about to launch out of her chest. “Yep… that’s him.”

Her friends dissolved into giggles, making absolutely no effort to hide it. Alexa poked her side and whispered, “You know, if you’re this flustered already, maybe you should just go for it. I mean, the masked Uber thing is kinda… hot?”

She shot her a glare, her cheeks heating even more. “Oh, my God, shut up!”

As Simon stepped out of his truck, she swallowed hard, wondering if the ground could just swallow her whole instead.

The universe was out to humiliate her, no doubt. Because instead of swallowing her whole, it had spat her out and stomped on her. There he was, standing tall and unreadable under the streetlight—a face mask covering his mouth, a black cap shadowing his eyes, and… a military uniform.

So that’s why he was awake at 5 a.m., she thought, her mind racing. Of course, he’s military. Everything about his stone-cold demeanor made perfect sense now.

“Oh, so you like soldiers now?” Lottie teased, not bothering to whisper.

Her heart dropped as she looked up and met his gaze. His stare was intense, focused directly on her like she was the only person there. And he’d definitely heard Lottie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” she hissed, trying to look anywhere but at him.

Millie, still a giggling mess, squinted up at him and muttered, “Uwber?”

Without missing a beat, Simon looked back down at her and answered, “Apparently.” His tone was deadpan, and she swore she caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes behind the mask.

And that was all he said. A quiet, towering presence, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably, all while his gaze stayed locked on her.

God, why was that so hot?

The next thing she knew, her friends were piling into Simon's truck like they owned it. Before she could even process it, they had her shoved into the passenger seat, wedged close to Simon with her heart thumping embarrassingly hard. Her friends, meanwhile, were giggling and whispering like they were at a sleepover, eyes sparkling with tipsy mischief.

And, of course, they had to try making him talk.

Lottie leaned over the seat, resting her chin on her hands with a sly grin. “So… Simon, was it? You’re, like, a real Uber driver, right?”

A long, deadpan silence. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, unamused. “…Sure.”

Alexa chimed in, barely holding back her laughter. “Do you always drive around with the hat and mask? Gotta say, it’s got… a certain vibe.”

He said nothing, just kept his hands on the wheel, looking painfully unfazed.

But then, of course, Millie had to deliver the ultimate question. In her slightly slurred, fearless way, she looked over at him and asked, “Aaaand wha’? Wha’s your type, Ssssimon?”

She wanted to die. She glared daggers at Millie, mouthing a very obvious FUCK YOU in all caps, while Millie only giggled harder.

A few seconds of silence stretched like a lifetime. But then, to her shock, he finally spoke.

“Reckless,” he said, eyes flicking just briefly in her direction.

The word hung in the air, heavy and almost taunting. Her cheeks flamed up, her mind spiraling. He went right back to focusing on the road, unreadable and quiet as ever.

Oh, God.

She was not the shy type. Never had been. But right then, with Simon’s gaze cutting through her, she felt her face heat up as if she’d never flirted a day in her life.

“Oh, you did the impossible, Simon! You made her blush!” Millie slurred from the back, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

Millie, I swear, you’re dead to me.

Simon, to her surprise, looked even less amused, but he kept driving, eyes focused straight ahead, not saying another word. They went on like that, him in his silent concentration and her doing everything to avoid his stare, as he dropped Millie off first. Millie stumbled out with a wave and a sloppy “G’bye, Uber,” giving Simon a wink that he definitely ignored.

Next was Alexa, who leaned in for an exaggerated, tipsy goodbye, pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best,” she whispered, giggling as she stumbled out into the night.

Finally, it was just her, Simon, and Lottie, who hadn’t said a word in a while. The quiet was odd, especially for Lottie, who was never one to stay silent long.

Then Simon’s voice broke through the silence, calm but resolute. “She’s asleep.”

“What—oh. Right.” She twisted around and saw Lottie, slumped against the window, practically drooling.

“…You need to wake her up,” he said, his voice that same low, unamused rumble.

She blinked at him, feigning ignorance. “What?”

He exhaled, sounding downright annoyed. “Wake her up. Your friend. She’s asleep. Drooling on my window.”

Oh, for the love of— “Right, okay,” she mumbled, reaching back to shake Lottie awake.

Lottie stumbled out, muttering a half-asleep goodbye and thanks, barely making it through her front door. As she disappeared into her house, the truck lurched back into motion, and that dreaded silence settled in like an unwelcome guest.

Her heart pounded as she tried to string together any words that might cut through the heavy air. What do I say now? Do I thank him? Apologize? Do I tell him I’m sorry a thousand times?

She swallowed hard and started. “I… I didn’t know she called you. I thought she was calling an actual Uber.”

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice flat, eyes locked on the road.

“Like, honestly, it’s my fault anyway because… well, I still had you saved as ‘Simon Personal Uber.’ I know it’s stupid, I just… forgot to change it.” She bit her lip, wanting to say more, to explain away the joke. “I didn’t think we’d even talk again, so…”

He didn’t respond. She fidgeted, regretting every word coming out of her mouth.

“Because, you know… you ghosted me,” she finished, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

She winced, instantly regretting it as the weight of his stare fell upon her, cutting through the dim light of the street. It was that same steady, unreadable stare she’d seen before, and now, with the truck idling at a red light, he turned to face her fully, eyes piercing and unyielding.

“I ghosted what?”

She froze, feeling her pulse quicken under his stare. Oh, God. Did I really just say that?

A rush of heat flooded her cheeks. “You… ghosted me?” Her voice barely a whisper, more question than statement now.

He held her gaze, the faintest glint of something amused flickering in his eyes. The light turned green, but he didn’t move.

Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but edged with something unreadable. “Guess that’s a new one for my book.”

A smile tugged at her lips, barely there, but real. And somehow, in the quiet that followed, she found herself feeling strangely comfortable.

The moment he started to drive again, she was laser-focused on her phone, her fingers tapping furiously as she composed a text to Millie:

She didn’t expect a reply since Millie was likely face-planted in her pillow, but that didn’t stop her. She spammed away.

She chuckled, shaking her head at her ridiculousness, but God, it felt good to let it out. A giddy, nervous energy buzzed through her.

And then, the truck rolled to a stop in front of her house. She glanced over at him, feeling his eyes on her, heavy and unwavering. That silence settled over them again, but this time, she knew she had to break it.

“I’m paying you,” she declared, trying to sound firm.

“No.”

She huffed, searching for a reason. “…Please?”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“The second time sounded like a question, love.”

Her heart skipped at that one word. Love? Had he actually just called her that? She could feel her cheeks heat up. What was happening to her? Since when did she get so flustered over a single word?

She fumbled, desperate to say something that wouldn’t sound completely ridiculous. “Just… let me… just the gas?”

He only shook his head, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, anything to keep this moment alive. She wanted to laugh it off, maybe tease him back, but nothing came. She was too focused on those eyes, the way they seemed to look straight through her, keeping her pinned in place.

Finally, she managed to blurt out, “I texted you.”

“Hm?” He looked at her, just slightly tilting his head.

“I texted you. You didn’t answer.” Her voice was softer now, almost apologetic. She wasn’t sure why she was even bringing this up; it wasn’t like she had any right to feel hurt over it. They’d barely even spoken, but still, it had stung.

“Wanted to talk about something?” he asked, his voice steady and unbothered.

She laughed nervously. “Maybe.”

“I don’t like texts.”

Her face fell. “…Should I have called you?”

“No.”

Damn. That one stung even more than she expected. She felt ridiculous, embarrassed for pushing the conversation this far. Idiot, idiot, she thought, mentally kicking herself as she opened the door to step out. “Right… shit, sorry.”

She turned, flashing him a weak smile as she stepped onto the curb. “Thanks. Sorry. Bye!” Her voice was high-pitched, her nerves showing through as she scrambled away. She felt a sting in her chest, like the silence he left her in had weight, pressing down on her.

But then, as she was halfway to her door, she heard him mutter, just loud enough to reach her: “…I like bourbon.”

She froze, turning around to look at him in disbelief. She could barely see his face in the dark truck, but that one line hung in the air, giving her just enough of a lifeline to feel like maybe—just maybe—she hadn’t embarrassed herself completely.

She could hardly contain herself as she watched his truck disappear down the road, and just like that, her phone was out. She juggled it in her hands, struggling to keep hold of it without dropping her keys and everything else she’d somehow managed to carry inside. Her fingers fumbled over the screen, but she didn’t care—she had one thing to say, and she typed it out without overthinking.

As soon as she hit send, she felt that familiar mix of nerves and excitement bubble up. She locked the door, kicked off her shoes, and stumbled through her evening routine, her heartbeat racing more from the message she’d just sent than the drinks she’d had. She’d just settled into bed, sighing as her body finally relaxed, when her phone buzzed.

Her eyes widened, barely believing he’d actually answered, and so quickly. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead, but the words sank in, full of promise.

A surge of thrill rushed through her, making her grin like an idiot. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, heart pounding.

She held her breath, not sure what he’d say, or if he’d say anything at all. But then, her screen lit up.

She sank back into her pillow, clutching her phone to her chest. That blunt, matter-of-fact reply shouldn’t have made her this giddy, but damn—straightforward men were just so hot.

NOT ME FINISHING MY SHIFT AND POSTING THIS PART EVEN AFTER I SAID I’D POST IT ON MONDAY. I just don’t know the word rest... anyways, love you all, really ♥

[inf3ct3dd]

loser!ellie headcanons pt.6

summary: ellieeee my chiquitita my baby my love

warnings: none :3

authors note: ik yall missed herrrr

masterlist. help palestine.🇵🇸

- ellie tries to be soooo cool and wear her cool people jackets (leather jackets, canvas, those carhartt hoodie jackets etc) but they’re very not helpful against the cold and you’ll be out with her and shes just SHIVERING the whole time…

- she’s obsessed w those “general knowledge quizzes” on tiktok. that girl is a hoe for trivia she’s sitting on her bed at three in the morning saying her answers OUT LOUD while she watches them. she gets so upset when she gets literally any wrong… “man…im not a quiz master 🙁”

- ik in the games she walks around with her little journal and shit but i feel like shes definitely jus constantly typing shit in her notes app… random thoughts and jokes and shit that she most definitely shows you at the end of the day

- she barely ever baby talks to babies… she’ll go up to a baby and just be like “wassup dude” and have a full blown conversation with him while the babies just sitting there babbling and giggling at her

- thinks those “im nothing like yall” slideshows r so hilarious…. like you’ll be on the couch and she’s just giggling at her phone at paracetamol 😞

- references the most niche memes ever constantly and literally googles them to explain herself. you guys went camping and she said “boy you want hot dog” and you were like ????

- so strangely particular about how her stuff is arranged 😭 her desk looks like an absolute hot mess 90% of the time but SHE UNDERSTANDS IT and if u try and organize it for her she just puts it back how it was

- always says “guys” and “yall” when she’s talking to literally one person. and CHAT. she just constantly adds it into conversation like “chat how are you today”

- loves asking if things are “fire.” she’ll cook you something and you take a bite and shes like “is that shit fire???” she has to know

- obsessed with “i barely know her” jokes. the second someone says something ending in er shes like “rider??? i barely know her!!” and she’s laughing her ass off

- that girl will go HAM on some mac and cheese. but it can only be really good baked mac or the shitty kraft mac and cheese. she puts like- hella pepper and red chili flakes in it and eats it straight out of the pot 🔥 its always at like three in the morning and you just walk in the kitchen to her with a pot in her lap watching glee or some shit

- SPEAKING. OF. glee is most definitely one of her guilty pleasure shows…like shes rewatched it a million times and glee cast was one of her top artists on apple music wrapped

- shes an apple music user. send tweet.

- got yelled at by an old lady once cuz she picked her flowers out of her front yard and gave them to you

- when i tell you that girl goes ham on those tiny clementines… she’ll eat like 10 in one day and theres just PEELS. EVERYWHERE.

- also she fw grapes heavy. especially green grapes (shes a weird little freak red grapes are so much better)

- OBSESSED WITH THOSE BLIND BAG SHITS. especially mini brands oh my god she definitely has the whole lil grocery store set and she’s so obsessed with it.

- her house slippers are definitely just a pair of crocs with the fur inside and a bunch of stupid ass jibbits. she buys the mega packs off amazon and changes them whenever shes bored

- has SO MANY drafts on tiktok and they’re all her trying filters staring at the screen like 😯

- most annoying person to sleep next to ever . snoring, sleep talking, moving around CONSTANTLY and hitting you accidentally, the only way she sleeps peacefully is if you’re holding her or she’s holding you, otherwise shes insane

- weirdly into linguistics…that girl is using humongous words for no good reason just for fun and half the time she has no idea what they mean and when she googles them and shes right about the definition she does that little fist pump and “fuck yes”

- speaking of. that girl is SPEEDRUNNING DUOLINGO . she’s fluent in (bad spaniard) spanish from it, and just learns random languages for fun. you speak a different language? she’s learning it immediately. definitely leaves notes for you in random languages she learned and you have to pull out a translator to understand wtf shes talking about… she also sleep talks in spanish sometimes and its so funny

- loves trying out different recipes…like i said my girl is a CHEF she will be at home fucking up a salmon bake she made and making you homemade pho for dinner

- had a phase when she was younger when she was really into the la bamba movie and dressed like richie valens for two years

- also cried so hard when she watched selena with you…that girl was devastated 💔 every time she hears “dreaming of you” she almost sheds a tear

“when that yolanda bitch gets out of prison….im shooting someone . its obvious who its gonna be.”

- she definitely begged joel to buy her a gun for christmas and he would take her to the range all the time so she can SHOOT. that girl is goated at lazer tag she gets down…does not play

- thought that candy cigarettes were the coolest thing ever when she was little… everywhere she went she had one hanging out of the side of her mouth and shed hold them between her fingers like they do in movies. if you two go to a candy shop shes for sure buying a pack

[winniethewife]

Puzzle cube (Steven Grant x F!reader)

A/n: Requested by @summonthesoups A while ago, Finally got it how I wanted it. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: Smut under the cut Cock warming, Orgasm denial, edging, PinV Praise kink, sub!Steven,

Words: 522

“Come on Baby, you can do it.” She softly coos as she sat straddled on his lap, His cock buried deep inside her as she stayed absolutely still, Holding him hostage as he whines softly trying to focus on the puzzle.

“Lovie….Please this…Ngh…Its…bloody hell” Steven babbles as he tried desperately to solve the colorful cube, he turns the cube and grunts, his cock twitches inside her, he lets out another whine as he figures out that the next step was right in front of him. “Damn cube. Just…ah. That’s…oh gods” Steven couldn’t help but mumble out loud. She looks at him with a devilish smile on his her face, Just as He was starting to figure out the puzzle she started to rock back and forth, drawing a soft moan from Steven.

“Look at you baby. Such a mess. You wanna fuck me baby? You want this? Yeah?” She teases and taunts him as she moves on his cock. Rolling her hips into his. Steven can’t resist, he thrusts up in to her as he whimpers and moans. She stops moving and pulls away slightly hovering over him as she tuts disapprovingly. “Ah, finish the puzzle baby.”

“P-please, Love I-I can’t its…I need you please.” Steven whines and tried desperately to move back into her, frustrated as she pulls away.  

“C’mon Steven I know you can do it, Look you’ve almost got it already.” She comforts him, reaching over to touch his face, tracing his pouty lips with the tip of her finger. He looks at her with those dark eyes, letting out a frustrated moan.

“A’right. I can do it, just, can you sit on my cock again. want to feel you ‘round me love.” He pleads with her. She gives him a smile and sinks back down on him. He sighs, slightly more satisfied and focuses back on the cube in his hands, a few more twists and… “There! I got it! look!” Steven shows her the solved cube with glee. She gives him a smile.

“Good boy.” She starts to move and Steven sighs in relief, putting the cube aside and grabbing her hips as he starts to thrust in to her, moaning as he chases his release inside her. after nearly an hour of teasing and holding back it doesn’t take long at all for him to coat her insides with his spend, his mouth open in a silent cry as he sakes slightly. She leans over and leaves a trail of kisses on his jaw, all the while praises leave her lips in a whisper soft voice “That’s my good boy, So good for me, you waited so long, so good Baby. So fucking good.” He couldn’t help but feel excited as she praised him, his cock starts to harden again. He looks into her eyes and whimpers slightly, he starts to buck up into her again, eager to go again.

“Please, Lovie. I want you again. Want to cum again, Please.” He begged. She sat up and gave him a mischievous look. Grabbing the cube and mixing it up again before handing it to him. “Again”

~

Masterlist

Tags: @silver-night-m

[the-promise-has-been-made]

Like with all Mike Flanagan shows, I have to sit and stew on The Fall of the House of Usher for a bit to let it fully settle, and then I'll probably have to rewatch it to get the full picture.

But what I can say now after the first watch has sat with me for 2 days is that compared to Hill House which dealt with grief, Bly Manor which dealt with love, and Midnight Mass which dealt with faith, House of Usher for me dealt with consequences. Madeline and Roderick were offered the deal that they could basically do whatever the heck they wanted, and all the consequences of their horrible actions would not be suffered by them. Which is essentially what capitalist super-rich experience all the time - and we, the ordinary people, suffer the consequences. It's funny that they thought it worked like that, but I guess they saw their father who suffered no consequences for abuse and for mistreating their mother whom he had ann affair with (if it even was that, and not rape) - but he did suffer consequences, he was strangeled to death by a dead woman. And Griswold, who seemingly suffered no consequences for his fraud and the many crimes of his company, except he did - he was literally cask of Amontillado'ed which is honestly the funniest thing! But for the Ushers, the consequences were suffered not just by the anonymous masses, not just by the thousands upon thousands that suffered and died because of their actions (powerfully depicted by the rain of bodies Verna showed Roderick in their meeting in his tower) and not by Madeline nd Roderick themselves, but very directly, very brutally, by their own children - who all in the span of a few days were driven insane and horrifically killed. They were offered this deal, and while Madeline had no children and made sure afterwards that she never would, Roderick already had two children by that point. He signed that deal not for some hypothetical children he might have, but for Frederick and Tammerlane who were already alive then, and for his 4 as of yet unborn children! They barely hesitated. The Ushers TOOK that choice away from their children, they doomed these children before they were even born. And they doomed even their grandchild before she was born. If that doesn't show the crippling consequences of actions we take today, I don't know what does. Every decision the rich and powerful make today has devastatign consequences for generations to come - not hypothetical, but very real and very dire consequences. But these people don't care about that, because it's not consequences they suffer NOW, so it's not their problem. The Ushers are charicaturized representations of that mindset, their children representations of the generations of people fucked over by their decisions. That's why I am torn between feeling glee at the bizarre demise each of the Usher children met (cause let's face it, they were all assholes and messed up) and at the same time feel immense pity for them (because the fact that they were assholes and messed up was almost not their fault but a product of growing up under the trauma Roderick and Madeleine suffered when they were children, and in a mindset where they genuinely believed being richer than God made them immune to cosequence, and because their fate had been decided for them without their knowledge).

But also, Verna gave EACH of these kids an option. They were all going to die, sure, but they were given the choice to do the right thing. Prospero was offered the chance to end his orgy and his filming of incriminating material but he chose to continue. Camille was offered the chance to turn around and go home and instead die peacefully in her sleep. Napoleon was offered the chance not to lie to his boyfriend and bring a fake 'cat' home, and instead go home, sober up, get his shit together, be honest about his fuck-ups. But he didn't. Victorine was offered the chance to say 'no, this treatment is not ready for human testing' but instead she deceived what she believed to be an innocent, desperate woman into essentially signing away her life. Tammerlane could have stopped her jealousy, her envy, and instead reach out to her husband, actually communicate, actually appreciate him, but she didn't. And Frederick, well, Verna spelled it out for him, didn't she? He had to bring her home, he had to bring out the pliers. He CHOSE to abuse and brutalize and mutilate his wife when she was completely defenseless, helpless, and innocent - yes she had gone to the orgy because she felt unappreciated, unseen, and nothing actually happened, she didn't cheat, her only 'crime' was chosing to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He chose to be a monster to her and to their child. All of them could have stopped, could have chosen to reflect on their actions and be better, do BETTER. Instead, they doubled down on their horrific behaviour, and sealed their own fate. All except Lenore, who until the very end chose to be good, chose to be kind, chose to see the best in people. That's why she was the only one to whom Verna appeared with kindness, giving her the certainty that her life mattered, that her sacrifice would save thousands, that her mother would do incredibly good in her name in the future, and she did not die with horror and suffering, she died peaceful, quick, quiet, like Verna had offered all the others. Verna was not so much a demon as she was the personification of "actions, meet consequences".

TLDR: The Fall of the House of Usher is the hardcore version of 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes' and will for me be part of the 'rich people actually suffer consequences for their shitty actions' cinematic universe.

[solsticelosthermind]

I wish you would write a fake dating fic where Clint or Bucky has to play lovey dovey with Nat (or someone else) for a mission, and they do a really good job at being convincingly in love, and that’s the trigger for the unpartnered party to realize how badly they wanted to be in Nat’s spot.

You!!! You are my favorite. This is going directly in my wips but uhh oops have the 700ish words that fell out in the last half hour: See, the mission isn’t an issue. They’ve done this before, the whole giggly-handsy-just-married-style of touristy shtick tended to be a perfect cover when they wanted to be seen but not necessarily noticed.

Except it was usually Clint pressed close to Natasha, playing a silent game of chicken with wandering hands.

And now Clint is on the sidelines.

The Backup, y’know, putting the eye in Hawkeye to use, the safety net while the spider and her mate spin invisible threads around their prey.

And, well, look, his job is to look, isn’t it? So sue him, he’s looking.

He’s caught half the damn fair drooling over them as they wander around.

Case in point, Bucky makes a show of ‘covertly’ looking around before tugging her into a less-than-hidden alcove. He picks her up by the waist like she’s made of air. When he sets her down on some kind of table, she’s slightly taller than he is. Her arms slip around his shoulders and her legs part to let him between her knees, and Clint’s not about to choke on his own spit about it, no sirree.

They’re shooed back out into the main walkway hardly a minute later. Bucky radiates the perfect amount of smugness as he tucks her under his arm, a hint of lipstick ruining the corner of his beautifully pouty mouth. Nat is the picture of shyly mortified glee, burrowing into his side to highlight the mess he’s made of her hair.

They turn the corner and she pulls him down for a kiss that lingers slightly too long, brushing her lipstick off his mouth only to kiss him again like she can’t help herself.

God. Bucky’s eyes are so dark when he straightens, thumbing at his mouth and kissing the top of her head. They step up to a game Clint knows is rigged five ways from Sunday, but Bucky plays the kid running it like a fiddle, knocking down the bottles that have been glued down with a wink. He makes a big show out of collecting a giant stuffed cat, calico with huge green eyes, and presenting it to Nat with all the gravitas of a fucking proposal. The smirk on his stupid mouth makes Clint want to eat his own arrows.

“Hey,” Sam mutters, knocking their shoulders together. “Tone down the scowl, man, you’re gonna freak out the mark.”

“Am not.”

“You absolutely are, dumbass. What’s got you all grumpy anyway? Still pissed Bucky got tapped to be Nat’s boy toy?”

“I can pull off a good pair of heels, too, y'know” Clint mutters.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Sam drawls.

Clint’s too busy watching the way Bucky runs a hand down Nat’s arm. He hooks their knuckles together and pulls her hand up for a kiss that’s more indecent than when he was literally grinding into her a minute ago. She giggles, long lashes fluttering as she lets him pull her in against him again.

“Yo. Barton. You with me? Where’s your head at, man?”

“I have never wanted to be short so bad in my life,” Clint answers stupidly.

“Again. What in the actual hell?”

Bucky’s hand is so casually possessive as it rests on the back of her hip. He guides her around some kind of cotton candy debacle and the muscles in his arm should be criminal.

Sam bursts into a horrible wheezing cackle that bends him in half.

Clint blinks. He darts a look to where Bucky’s running his hands through Nat’s hair, twirling it around his finger as they talk to someone’s grandma hawking funky crocheted dolls. He looks back down to where Sam’s going darker from the force of his laughter.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh man,” Sam gasps, throwing a hand on Clint’s arm to help himself upright. “You’re down bad, aren’t you?”

Clint looks back. Bucky’s got his head thrown back on his own laughter, throat bared and eyes scrunched up. He’s the most gorgeous thing Clint’s ever laid eyes on.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “You’ve got terrible taste.”

Bucky chooses that moment to slant a look over his shoulder, like he knows.

Clint gives him the all-clear, and for some reason Sam starts laughing again.

“The worst,” he repeats.

And that’s just not true at all.

“Could be worse,” Clint says once he manages to squash the need to go nuh-uh like he’s three instead of thirty. “Could be you.”

(Now on ao3!)

[imagine-darksiders]

Me waking up in a cold sweat:

Would the horsemen enjoy carving pumpkins?

[Me going to sleep in a hot sweat]

oh my god.

Strife would be so so SO keen to play this strange but fun human game of 'mutilate a gourd until it looks scary.' He hounds you for ages until you agree to take him to a pumpkin-picking farm, and there he proceeds to get WAY too many pumpkins [all of which you have to pay for, despite Strife trying to intimidate the clerk into giving them to you for free] You think he's showing off by carrying as many as possible but you don't call him out on it. He makes an absolute mess of your kitchen, and when he's finished, he's immensely proud of the absolute dogsh!t pumpkin he's carved. It earns pride of place on the windowsill. Teenagers laugh at it when they pass by.

Fury would initially scoff and roll her eyes at the childishness of the act... However, once she sees you 'gutting' the pumpkin, literally scooping out its innards and gouging holes for eyes with a look of glee on your face, she wonders if that's as satisfying as it looks. It is. You tell her if she makes her pumpkin scary enough, it'll frighten the local children, and suddenly, she's all in.

War wouldn't be impressed. It seems a waste of perfectly good food to him. Those pumpkins aren't scary. He's seen scarier things just last week. You tell him carving pumpkins is usually just meant to be a bit of fun, but he's a practical Horseman who wouldn't know fun if it punched him in the nose. You then try to explain the practical/superstitious purpose of carving a scary Jack o'lantern to scare away evil spirits on Halloween. War instantly becomes offended, thinking you've just admitted that you'd trust a gourd to protect you when he is standing right here.

Death supposes, if he squints, he can see the appeal of trying to carve something artistic from the flesh of a large, round fruit. However, he's largely content to sit back and watch you get your own hands sticky and messy at first, but what he doesn't realise is that Fury told you how much of a craftsman her eldest brother truly is. You set his own pumpkin in front of him, alongside a knife and say 'What? Are you intimidated by a blank canvas?' Death knows good and well what you're doing.... Alright then, human. If you want a scary pumpkin to frighten away your 'evil spirits,' then he's about to carve something that would make Satan himself run for the hills.

[evermourning]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞. ˚｡୨୧˚

pairing: Lee Felix x GN!reader

genre: drabble, non!idol au, established relationship, fluff(?)

wc: 1k

warnings: lots and lots of kisses, suggestive, making out, language, pet names (honey, sweetheart, babe, lix)

summary: you have an amazing idea. the idea in question being a romantic tiktok trend that your boyfriend is over the moon about trying.

a/n: so...i was listening to cigarettes after sex and i remembered that one tiktok trend to k., and ik it's dead now but IT WON'T BE DEAD UNTIL I DO IT RAHHHH so here's me feeding you guys while the last two lovertober entries are being worked on

Felix knew something was up the second he stepped through your door.

You had texted him randomly, a cryptic message he'd stared at for an actual eternity (five minutes) attempting to decipher but ultimately giving up.

"come over. as soon as possible."

Were you in trouble? Did you want to fuck him? Was it both? He decided he should just go over to your apartment to see if you were okay. He slipped on his coat and left hurriedly.

You were on the couch, dozing off to some early 2000's movie you couldn't bother watching. When the door opening, you jolted out of the state you were in and turned to stare at Felix, a look of utmost delight upon your features.

"Hi, honey." You cooed, getting up from under the comfy blanket to snake your arms around his neck and press a loving peck to his plush lips. "You look lovely tonight."

Blood rushed to Felix's cheeks, turning them the color of blossoming pink roses. You were wearing his shirt and a pair of simple, black sleep shorts. Felix gulped, trying to fight the urge to pin you to the wall and kiss you until your lips were raw.

"What do you need? I saw you wanted me to come over quickly so I rushed here." Holy shit, he was a blabbering mess. You grinned.

"You know that one Cigarettes After Sex song, right?" you asked, plopping back down onto the couch and pulling out your phone.

"Very specific." Felix teased, hanging up his coat before awkwardly sitting down beside you. However, he relaxed once you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Hey! But it's called K., and it's that one where it goes like 'Stay with me, I don't want you to leave'..." you tried to explain, and Felix giggled.

"Yes, I know it. Did you call me all the way here for a song recommendation?" You shook your head, before zeroing in on the black, form-fitting turtleneck he'd been wearing beneath his heavy coat.

"Not really, no. There was this trend that was going around...I don't remember when, but every time I hear the song I think about it." You mused, gasping softly when one of Felix's arms made its way to wrap around your waist. Good god. "You look really hot in that turtleneck, by the way."

"Thank you, sweetheart." he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your exposed neck. "Now, what was this trend about? I feel like I know what you're talking about..."

He knew exactly what you were talking about. To be honest, he was overjoyed you were even bringing up the idea to him. Being kissed all over by his partner sounded like the perfect Saturday night.

"I hope this jogs your memory, then!" You pulled up a video you had saved on TikTok, moving your phone over a little so that he could see it better. It showed some girl putting on lipstick, and messing it up. Then, a hand reached into the frame to wipe it away, and the camera panned to show her boyfriend, covered in lipstick marks and staring at her affectionately. "So...what do you think?"

Felix was staring in awe. Which pretty much answered your question.

"Please use that one burgundy lipstick you have. I'm begging you." He murmured quietly, still staring at the video on loop. You laughed out loud with glee, dashing off to go grab it.

Felix was waiting patiently, staring at the empty doorway as the distant sounds of you rummaging through your drawers excited him to no end. He just hoped he wouldn't get too excited...

When you finally came back, holding the tube of lipstick he loved so, he swore the butterflies flitting around inside his stomach began migrating. He changed the position he was sitting in so he could lay his back comfortably against the armrest of the sofa. Unfortunately, every one of his emotions were on full display as you climbed on top of him, straddling him.

"Wow, you're pretty red, Lix. I'm a little worried that the lipstick might not show up!" You slyly teased him, only adding more color to his adorable cheeks. He reached up to caress the soft skin on your cheek, his lips curled upwards into an endearing smile.

"Babe, I love you and your teasing but put on that makeup and fucking kiss me already." Felix grumbled playfully. You had no hesitation as you applied the dark lipstick, leaning down to press kiss after kiss onto his freckled face until his skin was stained red inside and out.

Felix felt like you were edging him.

You'd kissed everywhere except his lips, and it was making him feel embarrassingly needy. You noticed this, and with an airy giggle, you moved towards his lips. However, at the last second your head swiveled and you left a mark on the corner of his lips. That was his final straw. With a groan, he reached up and pulled you down so he could kiss you passionately, his hands going to your waist to steady you.

His kisses were dripping with love and adoration, fiery with desire. They slowly became more and more intimate, tongues dancing with each other. Your hands went to his blonde hair, holding them tightly. When you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you to him like some otherworldly string of fate, your lips were swollen and his were the color of spilt red wine.

"You can't jus' leave me hanging like that, sweetheart. C'mon, get my neck too." He said, panting. His chest was heaving. You liked it.

"But you're wearing a turtleneck." You pointed out, blinking once, twice.

He grinned.

"Exactly. Go ahead, take it off of me." With his help, his expanse of tanned, bare skin was exposed to you. A perfect canvas to create art upon with your lovely lips.

Needless to say, you never finished filming.

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[plor-bindery]

Bound: In My Room by wolfpants

Final installment in my mini-series of “fic I bound and sent to wolf”: In My Room by @wolfpants

I never really gave much thought to the idea of Dron as a pairing, but then wolf went and dropped a little WIP snippet of this on their Tumblr and I was like hoshit this has awakened something in me. And when the full fic was posted, I was completely sold.

Wolf's Ron is so wonderfully flawed and charming and everything we understand canon!Ron (book canon, anyway) to be. He's both insecure and cocky, awkward and appealing, judgemental and fair-minded. Ron in this fic is also 100% an Eighteen Year Old Human, i.e. very sure that he is making Good Choices while he is actually mostly making a series of Bad Choices.

And Draco is such a perfect foil to all of this: postwar Draco, who is a mess of self-doubt and old bigoted reflexes and fragile newborn-wobbly attempts to change, to be better.

(And I won't get into the background Drarry energy, but good god. Harry just fucking HOVERS in this fic. He's still SOMETHING to Draco, and A WHOLE LOT to Ron, even as both of them are doing something that decidedly breaks with both those historical relationships.)

Anyway, wolf's soundtrack to this fic is all 70s, and I have a warm fuzzy feeling for a Ron who's rooted in his parental nostalgia, who grew up with hand-me-down music tastes and groovy avocado blankets and plastic Muggle artefacts. When I spotted the paper that became this book's endpapers, everything came into focus for this bind.

More below the cut.

Materials: This is a quarto letter bind on cream 24 lb paper, using a fucking delightful shade of green wooqu bookcloth. But the real star is the endpaper choice, which I picked up at a Paper Source in DC in August. (We don't have this in Canada, I was very very happy.) It's got some subtle gold foiling on it, but the pattern and palette is so very 70s. (I'm a Xennial myself, so this print feels like everything that was just a shade out of fashion when I was a small Plor.)

Endbands are machine made.

The cover art is HTV and it went on fairly well? Ish?

Process: The typeset was quick for this short fic, which is a single chapter. I backfilled the final half-empty signature with the lyrics from wolf's playlist for the fic. (This is probably borderline in terms of transformative works and copyright but uhhhh too late.)

The book was a fairly straightforward case bind. I've been using the Bradel-style case construction for most of my case binds, where you use a strip of cardstock to build the spine/hinges on, and then trim the fore edges down on the boards. This can sometimes show up as slightly creased grooves in the hinges if you're not super careful with the bone folder, but I still prefer it to the guesswork of measuring and then building a whole case, covering it, and realizing it's the wrong size.

When I bound my own copy of this fic (after the copy for wolf! which is not how I usually roll, but the first copy was good???) I did take the plunge and build the case in this more traditional way, and it went perfectly. I'm still scared to try it again. Book board is expensive?

The HTV is the most layered I've ever done, and it was SO FUN to build the tiny record player out of layers of vinyl. When I did a test cut of the art, I was filled with the glee of Tiny Dollhouse Feelings. The chess board on the back with its various symbology was just fun. And the spine features an extremely unsubtle nod to the pairing and dynamic with the yellow/blond chess pawn and the orange/ginger knight.

And this concludes my tour of the works I bound for wolf! I'm now nearly finished another little gift parcel for another amazing author, sooo in 2-3 months' time, I should have another round of gift binds to share. (Most of that is shipping time because oceans.) Stay tuned!

[green-eyedfirework]

Why was it that Nightwing always got captured by the creeps?

“You have no idea how special you are,” the head scientist of the sketchy biotech company Nightwing had been surveilling prattled on as the wheelchair squeaked down the hallway.  “An omega vigilante, I almost couldn’t believe it when I heard, oh, I knew opening an office in Bludhaven would be a great idea—”

Red Hood got the mobsters, Red Robin got the intellectuals, and Batman and Robin got the dramatic ones.  But Nightwing?  Nightwing got the villains that were walking sexual harassment lawsuits.  It wasn’t fair.  Especially when he was the only omega of the bunch.

“Don’t you worry,” the head scientist said patronizingly, patting him on the head.  “I can’t give you a heat inducer, that’ll mess up your fertility, but I promise it’ll be over soon.  And you’ll get a pup out of it!  How does that sound?”

Maybe it was the skintight suit.  Maybe he was drawing too much attention to the wrong, ahem, assets.

“Of course, you won’t be able to keep the pup, but consider the vast contributions you will be making to science!  Oh, the healing factor alone…” the beta scientist devolved into raptures of scientific glee and Dick wondered what exactly it was about a Ph.D. that turned so many of them into villains in the process.  This one had done some research on the meta gene and super serum before his access to the government labs had been revoked—gee, Dick really wondered why—and now he was attempting to recreate the research with his own unethical experiments.

“And you don’t have to worry about them, my dear,” the beta patted Dick’s head again and Dick hissed through the gag.  He’d been drugged a second time when he tried to bite, and all he had to show for it was the increased restraints and some fondling from the too-interested guards.  “I got a delightful pollen from a lovely woman that’s guaranteed to send alphas into ruts, so they’ll be up to the performance.”

Dick rolled his eyes.  So this guy was one of those idiots that thought that alphas turned into raging knotheads on their rut.  Sure, it dialed their instincts up to eleven, but everyone didn’t think about sex all the time, gods.

“As long as you behave, I’m sure they’ll leave you in one piece.”

No, the more immediate concern was that Dick was starting to get the sense that the beta was using they as plural and not gender-neutral, and combined with the other hints that he was referring to metas with superhuman strength, it wasn’t adding up to a pleasant picture.

“And I have reliable reports that you know them, so this should work out great!”

Wait, what?

With that last ominous statement, they arrived at a huge, thick steel door that took several locks to disarm.  Dick didn’t get much of a chance to examine it, though, before the wheelchair tilted and he was dumped inside the small cell.

“Remember to enjoy yourself!” was the maniac’s parting statement before the door swung shut.

Oh, Dick was going to enjoy pointing Hood at this asshole.

But the more immediate problem was the occupants of the cell he’d just been locked into.  The very familiar occupants, and Dick worked at his bindings with trembling fingers as the alphas began to stir.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered out loud as soon as he tore off the gag, watching them shift and move as silver hair caught the light and gleamed.  “How did they get all of you?”

Deathstroke, Ravager, Jericho, Nightshade, and Respawn.  The entirety of world’s deadliest mercenary pack.  All enhanced, metas, or hopped up on some kind of experimental serum, Dick had never gotten close enough to figure out the specifics, but what he did know was that they were incredibly dangerous.  The Titans had faced off against them more than once and barely managed to go limping home.  The only reason they weren’t classified as a higher threat was because usually they stayed out of hero business.

“Getting captured by one idiot scientist is definitely going to puncture that reputation,” Dick said, eyeing their sluggish movements.  They were beginning to wake up.  “Kind of pathetic, actually.  Aren’t you guys supposed to be the most elite fighters in the world or something?”  That was certainly something the Ravager had spat at him once or twice.  “How does a mercenary pack get kidnapped?”

A low growl and a rush of alpha pheromones billowed out to flood the space.  Dick scrunched up his nose at the scent, he could feel his own start to turn sweeter in response as his omega recognized that he was trapped in a room full of alphas going into rut.  The scientist had torn off all his blockers and Bruce’s scent management techniques only went so far in the face of burgeoning alpha aggression.

“Not a threat,” Dick murmured slowly, keeping his hands by his sides and staying on his knees.  No need to trigger any violent movements.

He wasn’t sure what the idiot scientist was thinking—the more alphas, the better chance for Dick to be impregnated?  Except with Deathstroke trapped with his pack—including a pup just barely old enough to have presented—his focus would be on protection, not procreation.  It wouldn’t matter that Dick was an omega if Deathstroke or the others registered him as a danger.

“Not going to fight you,” Dick said, keeping the low, easy tone.  “I’m trapped here just as same as you guys.”

The mercenaries recovered fast.  One moment they were weak and sluggish, and the next the two oldest alphas had jerked upright, scanning the space and growling.

“Not a threat,” Dick murmured, low and soft.  Ravager locked gazes with Dick and kept up a low, warning rumble, but Deathstroke continued scanning the area and checking over his pups.  Nightshade was instantly alert, as was Respawn, growling adorably like Damian—Dick had to fight not to coo—and Jericho was the last to shake off whatever they’d been drugged with.

Half of them were staring at Dick, Respawn clutched close to his father’s side while Deathstroke prowled the cell.  It was admittedly unnerving, being stared down by three growling alphas, but Dick kept his calm, his scent still the sweet of placating omega, posture unthreatening, voice soft.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Dick repeated, low and smooth.  “I’m not a threat.”

Nightshade shifted towards him, teeth bared, but Ravager quickly yanked her back.  Unfortunately, this turned Deathstroke’s attention his way, and it was definitely harder to keep the soothing tone when staring into the face of a man that had the highest kill count of any assassin currently alive.

“I’m not a threat,” Dick repeated, hands out and open.  “I’m not going to fight you.”  Alphas responded better to scent and posture when in rut, but words still occasionally made it through.  Deathstroke drew closer and Dick fought the urge to run—there was nowhere to go.  “I’m not going to fight you.”  The alpha loomed above him and Dick kept himself carefully still, relaxed and not tense.  “I’m not a threat.”

Deathstroke bent down.  Dick could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he remained as still and calm as he could.  The alpha’s one-eyed gaze travelled over him as he took a deliberate whiff of scent.  Dick hardly dared to breathe.

The mercenary made a low growl and backed off, leaving him alone.  Dick exhaled in a rush.  No being mauled by mercenaries in rut tonight.

Unfortunately, Dick had spoken too soon.

He spotted the lunging motion out of the corner of his eye, too fast to react any way but instinct, and he immediately ducked and rolled, countering the alpha’s move with his own, trapping her punch and twisting her arm to yank her into a hold before he fully realized what he was doing.

“Oh, shit,” Dick hissed, hurriedly letting go and backing up, but it was too late.

He didn’t register Deathstroke moving until the mercenary slammed him to the ground, expelling his air in a breathless wheeze, and teeth digging in at the back of his neck turned his automatic protest into a low whine as submission flooded through him.

(more emphasis to bites, on fighting)

The room was thick with alpha rage and Dick stayed as still as he could, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, hoping that this was a show of force and not the prelude to playing with their food.

It didn’t matter if he struggled or not, there was no way he could beat a group of enhanced, trained alphas hopped up on aggression, but there was still the chance that if he stayed quiet and submitted, they wouldn’t tear him apart.

Dick winced as the collar of his suit was torn apart easily under enhanced hands—the goons that had captured him hadn’t been able to undo the catches without getting shocked and had quickly given up, but clearly the kevlar weave was no match for supersoldier strength.  Another low whine was punched out of him as a second pair of teeth closed down on his unprotected neck, biting deep and worrying at his skin.

He could smell Nightshade’s scent change from anger to satisfaction at his apparent submission and he made another low, placating sound to appease her.  Two bites meant his limbs were trembling, submission running through him like a rip current, ready to pull him down under.

Dick couldn’t help the tension—he was helpless here, lying at the mercy of a mercenary pack, waiting for them to get bored and ignore him, or for them to tear him apart as an intruder.  Dick had been in worse situations, but right now, he was a having a hard time pinpointing specific examples.

Another hand joined the ones pointlessly pinning him down and Dick smelled a darker version of the rage, a scent he remembered from battlefields.  He couldn’t jerk away from Ravager’s grip, so he had to stay there, hissing weakly as the alpha’s bite joined his father’s and his sister’s.  Fuck that hurt.

He couldn’t move.  His scent dripped with sweetness, rising alarm disguised as enticement.  Dick made an aborted sound as he was dragged off the ground, bruises aching, to be hauled into someone’s impenetrable grip, hands tight on his forearms.  He didn’t know whose lap he was all but sitting in, the alpha scents were mixing together, aggression and rage, possession and pride.

Dick couldn’t help flinch back as Jericho moved towards him.  “No,” he breathed out, alarm rising higher, but there was nowhere to go, trapped in a cage of alphas, and Dick could only watch as Jericho braced himself on Dick’s shoulders and bent down to bite.

It felt like he was leeching the soul from Dick’s body.  Submit pressed harder down on him, until what little resistance Dick had was like a slick grip in a storm, peeling away by inches, one slippery finger at a time.  Too many hands, too many alphas, and Dick whimpered without meaning to, caught in a maelstrom of scent and overwhelmed by it.

Something tugged painfully at him.  His pack bonds, responding to his agitation.  Dick could feel the others nudging him, sending him calm and worry—and he could also feel it fraying.

No.

No.

If this was the entirety of Deathstroke’s pack—

The pup started crawling towards him and panic rose up, sharp and high.  “No,” Dick whispered, struggling against the grips chaining him in place.  He was a trained vigilante, he could still throw off submission, the problem was the four alphas holding him down.  “No, let me go!”

It was like battering himself against a steel wall.  None of them moved.

Respawn moved up to crawl into his lap and Dick growled, as low and deep as he could make, baring his teeth in the imitation of an alpha snarl.  The pup yelped, tumbling back, but then a hand in Dick’s hair wrenched his head painfully to one side and Dick couldn’t stop the growl shifting to a high, desperate whine.

“No, please, stop, don’t do this—” the pup clambered on top of him more carefully this time, ignoring his weak struggles, and Dick felt teeth close down on the jut of his collarbone. “—please—”

His pack bonds shattered.

Dick couldn’t feel them breaking over the rush of the new ones taking their place, slamming home with a suddenness that felt like a punch.  He keened, curling over as much as he was able as growling filled the room, less concerned with the alphas’ emotional state than his own.

Fuck.

The only way to complete a pack claim was to have every member of the pack bite the claimant.  It would destroy any other pack bond in the process, which meant that his bond with the Bats had been shredded under the force of Deathstroke’s claim.

“No, no, no—”

From the Bats’ side, Dick’s bond would’ve abruptly snapped without warning.  There were only three ways to break a bond—by breaking it yourself, by subsuming it with a new claim, or by death.

And the first two were rarer than the last.

Dick choked on the overwhelming scent of foreign alpha, his own scent gentling in recognizance of his new pack, unable to breathe under the onslaught of emotion humming through him.  Five alphas in rut was stretching his senses to the breaking point and it felt uniquely violating to have strangers inside the part of him that had always been for family.

“No,” Dick whimpered, unable to push them out.  Everything was too loud and too much and he felt pulled in a thousand different directions.

Pack-alpha was rage-protect-furious and older-alpha was frustration-burning-hate and alpha-sister was angry-attack and alpha-brother was irritation-discomfort and alpha-pup was scared-distressed-angry and Dick couldn’t begin to untangle the web.  He hurt, inside and out, broken grief and bruising aches and rising terror and throbbing bites.

“Please,” Dick tried to say, but no one was listening.

His body did the only thing it could do under the onslaught of alpha rut, new pack bonds, and increasing stress—Dick smelled the honey sweetness first, and groaned in recognition of what was to follow.

Attention focused sharply back on him as the first note of heat hit the air.

“No—” Dick fought hard against the restraining bonds, this wasn’t his pack, he wasn’t safe here, “let me go—”

They didn’t. He could feel their bonds change to anticipation, the laser focus of their rut brought to bear on him.  There was nothing more important in the room to them.

Dick went pliant for a breath, enough to relax the grips on him, enough to feel the ache as the warmth of heat slowly ramped up, muscles cramping—and then he lunged, yanking himself out of the grips and aiming for the corner.

Enhanced alphas, of course, reacted fast.

Dick found himself jerked back against a solid chest, arms wrapping around him and forcing his arms down by his side. Ravager was in front of him now, Ravager and Nightshade, and between them they managed to turn the top half of his suit to confetti.

Dick, half-naked, trapped in the middle of five alphas in rut and smelling of honey, had a terrible thought—

But no one was moving to pull the rest of his suit off and it was Respawn that crawled forward first.  Dick tried to yank away when he realized what was happening but Deathstroke’s grip didn’t budge a fraction, a low growl warning him to stay still.

His chest ached, not with bruises but the growing cramps of heat, and when Respawn latched onto a nipple and sucked, Dick screamed.

It hurt.  The pressure, the unbearable weight of an insistent, demanding pup as his body tried to remake itself to provide for his pack.  The increase in cramping right before the milk finally came.  And the horrible, awful relief, the unshakeable sense that Dick was losing something, that this was defilement greater than he’d expected.

“No,” Dick sobbed, keening as Nightshade shoved forward to latch onto his other nipple.  “No, stop, that isn’t yours—”

The alphas didn’t care. They drank busily, sucking his milk out in greedy pulls, uncaring for the way Dick writhed as he cried.  His scent was sweet but his bond was twisted in distress, and the alphas didn’t twitch.

When the pup was done, Jericho moved forward to take his place, bright blond hair the only thing visible in Dick’s blurred vision.  Ravager growled as Nightshade kept drinking and snapped warningly at her before she let go with a pout.  Ravager dove for her spot and Dick made a low, punched-out sound.  The increase in suction was unbearable, he felt like he was being unmade under the onslaught.

“P-please.”

Jericho stopped sooner, but that wasn’t a relief—Nightshade’s tight grip replaced her father’s as Deathstroke bent down, latching on tight and drinking with deep, strong pulls that had Dick wailing.

It hurt, it was pain on a level deeper than flesh, it was too much and yet Dick was pinned here to endure, overwhelmed under the onslaught and unable to run.

There was no comfort but the restraining grips around him, no warmth but from bonds from the enemy, no protection but from the very same people that were hurting him.  His omega was shrieking for safety and reassurance and the most Dick could do was press into the hands holding him, fingers wrapped tight over someone’s palm, hand clasping the pup to him, pulling an alpha’s arm closer until he could see and hear and smell nothing but them.

Dick made a low, broken keen, and the rumbles of his pack answered him.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hey how are you doing how would the z fighters react to meeting an female seraphim reader who is like sera from hazbin hotel, the reader is like the head manager of the angels and is like a mother figure to Zeno

Luckily I do know Zeno and some of the characters for this, as I loved the tournament saga- the animation was *chef kiss!* Especially Vegeta’s fight with Jiren!

-The Z-Fighters, arriving in Zeno’s palace, were surprised to see him sitting on the lap of someone unknown, you. Your wings were stretched out to the sides of you, a small smile on your face, but you seemed to radiate not only power, but authority- you were someone not to be messed with.

-Zeno looked up at you, “Mama Y/N- these are the Z-Fighters! Some of the strongest fighters I know!” your eyes, which almost seemed to be glowing, pierced into them, but your smile was gentle as you spoke, introducing yourself.

-Goku was bright and cheerful, grinning warmly, “Nice to meet you Y/N! I’m Son Goku!” his greeting was refreshing, but Beerus, who instantly froze, seeing the ‘disrespect’ towards you from Goku was quick to punch him on the back of his head, forcing him to the ground, holding his head there as he bowed, “Please forgive him Mistress Y/N! You- apologize to her!”

-A tremor of power seemed to shake the ground around you, as you abhorred violence, your eyes flashing dangerously, “Beerus- stop.” Instantly Beerus was the one bowing low, begging for your forgiveness.

-Vegeta knew that you were dangerous, even more than Beerus and Zeno, feeling your power, but as soon as Goku popped up, looking fine other than the red forehead, laughing cheerfully, you calmed down.

-He was unlike anyone you had ever met before, he was cheerful and warm feeling, much like Zeno as you stood, holding onto Zeno as Grand Priest held up his hand to escort you from the throne which you took, your wings fluttering only slightly around you.

-Zeno was happy to invite the Z-Fighters, including the God of Destruction and Whis to his home, as he wanted to spend time with them, and what better way then coming to his home, to your hotel!

-It was a bit surprising that you were running a hotel in Zeno’s Palace, but Whis and Beerus, who have stayed there before, as usually your hotel only hosts gods and angels, with the rare important guest here and there.

-You felt a bit embarrassed, but you didn’t let it show, as you had been lamenting quietly to yourself, walking around your empty hotel, that you felt a bit lonely since your hotel was empty, and Zeno had overheard this, and he wanted to make you happy!

-You thought it was cute when he came to you, telling you what he did but he did enjoy the hugs and kisses you peppered his face with, making him laugh happily from the affections.

-The hotel was massive but very lovely, huge beds, massive hot spring like baths, and massive buffets of food, enough to handle an army of Saiyan warriors, much to the glee of Goku, the kids, and Vegeta, despite him not showing it.

-They were surprised, walking into the massive buffet area to see the warriors they had fought against in the Grand Tournament all there as well, as Zeno had invited everyone to come together again, this time for a party to make you happy!

-There were happy reunions all around, Goku surprised many to leap at Jiren, hugging him close, surprising the other warrior but he couldn’t help but crack a small grin, seeing Goku’s happiness.

-As everyone celebrated and ate, enjoying the time together, you couldn’t help but squeeze Zeno a bit, making him look up at you as you smiled down at him, ducking your head to peck his forehead softly, making him beam as you spoke, “Thank you Zeno- you’ve made me very happy.”

-He beamed brightly, leaping out of your arms with a cheer, glad that he was able to make you happy as he flew out to join the party.

-You remained on the side, looking very regal as you smiled softly, looking out over your now lively hotel, happy to know such wonderful people.

[bumblesimagines]

"Did you just show up conveniently, or is this another act in your never-ending drama?"

"Do they even know how much energy you're spending on their behalf?"

- Valerio Montesinos

"Did you just show up conveniently, or is this another act in your never-ending drama?"

"Do they even know how much energy you're spending on their behalf?"

pronouns:

"How many people did you invite, Rebe? It was supposed to be a small gathering amongst friends, not the whole damn school!" You watched the steady wave of students flow into your house, some faces familiar and others strangers. They tossed aside their belongings and made a mess of things as they roamed around the house, swaying to the music and drinking whatever they could get their hands on.

"Come on, (Y/N)! It's your 18th birthday." Rebeka cackled with glee, practically bouncing on her heels. "I promise this'll be a night you'll thank me for."

"Yeah, tell yourself that tomorrow when you help me clean up this mess." You sighed heavily and turned away from the protesting brunette, heading deeper into your house and praying your classmates behaved themselves.

"(Y/N)!"

"Ugh, fuck." You groaned and ran a hand over your face. The party was a headache you could nurse with beer, but an snobby ex-girlfriend? Nothing could nurse that sort of headache. You turned on your heel and regarded the blonde with lifted brows.

"We need to talk."

"We've talked already. You ditched me for your ex and the new kid and now one of them is gone. Go crawling back to Polo if you're lonely, Carla."

"Ooh, ouch." And the night got shittier. Your jaw clenched involuntarily at the mere sound of Valerio's voice. The boy had been a thorn in your side since he'd set foot in the school. From his constant pestering to his dealing to the way he never seemed to shut up, he got on each and every single one of your nerves. Even his sister looked exhausted of his molly-induced antics.

"Not now, Valerio." You groaned again and turned away from the curly-haired boy but he simply followed you through the crowd of bodies hanging around. He quickened his pace and slung an arm around your shoulder, one you quickly shoved away. "Did you just show up conveniently, or is this another act in your never-ending drama? You gonna try to sell me something? Or are you gonna swoop in, try to be a knight, and make a fool of yourself as always?"

"Someone's in a mood." Valerio whistled, whisking away a cup of god-knows-what from someone's hand and tossing a wink at them when they complained.

"Just fuck off."

"Have a drink, my angel." Valerio grinned cheekily and stepped infront of you, pressing the cup against your chest. He leaned in, bumping his nose against yours with twinkling eyes. "And happy birthday."

"Whatever." You muttered and took the cup from him, sparing him one last annoyed glance and slipping further into the crowd. Valerio watched you go with a small smile, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Stepping out of the crowd with her fingers wrapped around a pretty glass cup, Lu eyed her brother with raised brow and stepped closer. She followed his line of sight and snorted, shaking her head with a pitiful frown. "Do they even know how much energy you're spending on their behalf?"

"No." Valerio muttered. "But they'll see it eventually."

[jasperandhenryslovechild]

bro i made a whole ass ramble and then it got posted on accident (FUCK TUMBLRS STUPID DRAFTS FEATURE BECAUSE IT ALWAYS POSTS NY FUCKING SHIT BRO WHAT) so now I'm remaking it but it's kinda the half assed version because im so tired and sleepy but

i have a theory. a film theory if you will! which is like probably kinda obvious because it intertwines with a lot of stuff you just know by looking at it or like by using your brain and connecting to past stuff but it's making me notice things that I just need to talk about so like..... anyways j digress

this also only makes sense if you've seen the ~40 second clip glee dango (missy martin) posted on her insta so if you haven't seen that go go go go and also won't make sense if you haven't watched the danger force episode (s1 ep8) return of the kid so if you haven't also go go go watch that because it's one of my favorite df episodes, not my all time favorite but definitely up there ANYWAY FILM THEORY THAT I WILL LOOK SO FUCKING STUPID FOR IF I'M WRONG BUT

i think the guy who pushed henry through that window is absolutely, 100% blackout

i come to this conclusion out of 3 different factors from the clip that are easily observable and serve to prove my point and these three factors are

SETTING

APPEARANCE

VOICE

in depth explanation under the cut

SETTING.

oh boy do i have quite a bit to say about where this clip takes place.

now what do these images show, what do these things say to you

at a first glance this says:

dark

creepy

run-down

dear god i would kill myself before living here

further than that, let's like break down what the fuck is in this place

starting from bottom to top, there's papers and chairs and like is that a lamp?? there's things thrown all over the place and it looks like either someone just crashed out severely in here or there was a fight that took place here not too long ago— judging by henrys relatively calm demeanor as he just walks up to this poster so casually and starts holding a small interaction with the person behind him, it doesn't look like he was the one who came in here and made this mess. probably not a fight!

the fact that henry falls from easily ten stories when he's pushed out, and the fact that in the window between the two distant henry posters there is a building with a light on (missy's house? mainly say that because of the light coming from it, but why would she live this close to blackout though so probs not) shows us that this is an area that people live in. this villian has a lair that is essentially hiding in plain sight. that makes the idea of this room being an abandoned or taken over office building makes more sense because it makes it harder for neglectful nickelodeon-class cops to find.

also, the fact that it's not very light-permitting in this place + it's night (or just an incredibly polluted area maybe both) gives way for the blackout theory because in return of the kid henry says that blackout strikes when all the lights are off!! so yippee!!!

the only thing i really have a bone to pick with about this frame is that fucking poster. because if my inferences are correct, that's probably a poster for a service he offers in dystopia or something along those lines. but those posters.

that says BIZWATCH.

BIZWATCH

on the first image in this section, the big poster he lolz at has, on the bottom, "we handle your bizness".

dear GOD there's a reason charlottes not in the movie and it's because if she was, bizwatch would have never been a name option on the table and there would be no movie JESSUUUSSSS SOMEBODY CALL UP MY GIRL, THE THINGS MEN DO WHEN YOU LEAVE THEM BEHIND OUGUGHHHH

im moving on with my life because my opinions on the name bizwatch could be its own post ngl

APPEARANCE

this one and the next are gonna be tinier sections but like, when blackout shows up like right before, he's this big puff of smoke or like shadow that can fly kinda?? and the first thing that my mind goes to are dementors & death eaters from harry potter like

eating people's souls is very similar to sucking their happiness in my mind and like the correlation although nothing to do with whatever blackout may or may not be able to do in canon just like strikes a cord with me like oh!! blackout!! flying as a puff of smoke and sucking people's souls!! i wonder what that reminds me of!!

also, additionally, the exact moment he kicks henry out that window he sorta like turns back into his normal form aka not just a black cloud and that's all we ever see of him. that little snapshot in that like 2 frames is all we get of whoever this villain might be, and MAY I ALLOW YOU TO JUST LIKE MAKE THE CONNECTIONS FOR YOURSELF BECAUSE

LIKE THAT LOOKS SIMILAR. YOU CAN'T TELL ME IT DOESN'T LOOK KINDA SIMILAR TO EACH OTHER AND I KNOW THE RELEASED CLIP VERSION IS LIKE SUPER DARK BUT LIKE ALSO THAT'S THE POINT OF BLACKOUTS COSTUME, IT'S DESIGNED LIKE THAT TO HELP HIM DISGUISE HIMSELF BETTER UNDER THE COVER OF DARKNESS AND UGH UGH UGHHHFHHDH!! ¢[¢[[¢

guys i love blackout 🤭🤭

im tweaking

VOICE

this one is. quite self explanatory but

i wish i could like add the other video of his voice in the new clip but they have a one video per post limit thing UGHHH😭😭 but like. SAME SHIT BRO SAME SHIT SAME SHIT AUUHGDHDHD

WHY I'M TWEAKING SO HARD ABOUT THIS

BECAUSE IT'S BLACKOUT! #! $! $?

blackout was the first and only villain we got to see EVER that showed us how bad dystopia actually was. henry had to flee from across the world to escape this guy, cut off all contacts from dystopia so that they wouldn't find him, and bribed the danger force to come and help him only when he literally had no other choice. blackout is one of the many things dystopia!henry is working so hard to keep under wraps because blackout is one of the worst of the worst things there is to behold in dystopia— at least, as we know of

expanding on his character not only will show us more about his and henrys relationship, but will also show us more about the world as a whole here! expanding on blackout is going to help build up dystopia as a world and environment— why is blackout, a bounty hunter, hunting for our protag in the first place? what did henry do (or rather, what did henry not do)? is this usual behavior for dystopia? is there no legal forces beyond bizwatch trying to stop this guy?? IS BLACKOUT WORKING ALONE?????

jesus christ this raises so many questions and can help expand on everything so much and if blackout is the main villain in the movie i will literally be so satisfied omg i love this bitch (watch him get two seconds of screen time/j)

if you made it this far thank you for coming to my ted talk🙏🙏

[totokoismyfav]

ichimatsu is the type to do the disco by surf curse tiktok trend with you if you really begged him.

of course, he said no the first ten times but seeing the light in your eyes when he sighed, he couldn’t deny you your happiness.

he started off pretty lazily the first part of the dance, his face blank as pumped his fists into the air, but the facade all fell apart when you leaned closer to him earning a laugh from you.

he couldn’t help but crack a smile, snickering as you continued the dance, this time leaning closer to you as you instructed.

he lost his balance, falling right into you. his glee was replaced by panic as he blinked in surprise, “shit! you alright!?”

oh god he messed this up, you were gonna be so pissed that he ruined your video. he should’ve stuck with gut and refused to do this…

he was rather surprised as you bursted into giggles, tears forming in your eyes from how much you were laughing.

after a few minutes of reassurance, you posted the video to your social media, with his consent of course.

imagine todomatsu’s surprise when he saw the video pop up on his feed, showing it to the rest of his brothers which earned ichimatsu a questioning and a solid week of jealousy auras and death glares.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE BAKUGOU KATSUKI HEADCANONS

1. He is like the LOWKEY term for POSSESSIVENESS no doubt about that all right. If you ever so much as take even a GLANCE at someone else, they're gonna be saying sayonara to the world in less than 5 minutes. This sadistic pomeranian takes immense pleasure in burning people till the extent that their limbs become like hot and molten goo 

2. With love rivals, he is fond of torturing that person and makes sure that they actually BEG for death, no joke. That's his way of proving that there's only ONE person who is important in your life and that's him. Anyone else will be dead

3. He might act like a huge jerkwad but he's a TOTAL SUCKER when it comes to fueling up his GOD DAMN ego which is so LARGE that it has stretch marks. He will be floating in the universe with glee if you ever call him your 'hero' and 'my saviour' 

4. And once you're done feeding his abnormal large ego, this man will certainly pamper you, like ALOT. Don't even THINK of refusing his gifts or you'll have some ash to clean up and some wounds and burns on your body to clean as well 

5. Even if he kidnapped you, he will actually cuddle with you and gently rub your back and stroke your hair lovingly at times when you're REALLY hurt, like after he's done using you as his personal punching bag for taking out his anger 

6. It's best if you're just obedient to this man since he's actually really clever. And if you DO manage to escape, run as FAR as you can and PRAY that he won't come looking for you, but the chances of you getting your old life back again are like, 0.0001 percent really since he's a strong hero in training and he can use his connections around with his friends to come find you. Don't be surprised if he has a few connections with villains as well 

7. Punishment: Some of the punishments include torturing people right in front of you and him reminding you that it's YOUR fault that people are dying and he will take out his anger on you by hitting you and all that. But the afterwards he will eventually give in and feel bad and will cuddle with you and make sure you feel better

8. This dude will not admit this EVER but he actually NEEDS you to be with him. And because of his crazy obsession with you, he tends to get overly protective of you, and if someone messes with you, let's just say that they won't ever see the daylight again. If you were planning to be a pro hero when you grow up, sorry to tell you this, but..... you're going to have to let GO of that dream or Katsuki will MAKE you let go of your dream

9. He LOVES showing you how strong he can be and he wants you to depend on him and NEED him for everything in your life and all that. He might be cruel, but remember: He's doing this ALL for YOU, so just give in to him. It's better to be loved by him than get hurt and burnt by him everyday 

''Oh, you and I are going to have so much fun teddy bear~..."