#he wore that hat so much I wonder if he still has it

[real10jay]

burreauxcore ?

[letoasai]

The Youngest Ancient

An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 

We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 

Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 

~~

They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 

Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 

“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 

Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 

“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 

“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 

“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 

“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”

“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 

“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 

Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 

“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.

Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 

“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 

“Forty minutes then.” 

~

The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 

When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 

He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 

“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.

“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 

“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.

Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 

“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 

“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 

“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”

Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 

Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 

No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 

“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 

He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 

He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 

The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 

When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 

“Phantom…?” 

Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 

“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”

To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 

“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 

Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 

“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 

“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 

~

In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 

Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 

Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”

“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 

“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 

Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”

Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 

“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 

“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 

“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 

It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 

Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 

“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 

“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 

“Will he?” The Flash stared. 

Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 

He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 

This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 

Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 

Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 

Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 

The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 

Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 

“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 

Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 

Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 

Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 

“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 

Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 

Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 

“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 

“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 

“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 

No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 

“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 

“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 

“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 

“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 

“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 

“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 

Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 

The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 

“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 

~~

I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 

I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 

Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^

Master List

[little-diable]

Cocky Tornado Wrangler – Tyler Owens (smut)

Finally watching Twisters tonight. My poor aunt who has to listen to me gush about our husband. Thank you so much for the love on my other Tyler fic, I hope y'all will love this just as much. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: There are many things (y/n) would prefer to having to share a room with the man she hates. But does she really hate him? Or will the bed they share be enough to push them closer together?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, enemies to lovers, lots of teasing

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.8k words)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice dripped with exhaustion, eyes tired and ready to flutter shut any moment now. But fuck, she couldn’t give in just yet, had to fight yet another battle with the self proclaimed tornado wrangler who was staring down at her with his signature smirk glued to his lips.

The smirk he wore in every video of his. Videos she watched whenever they were uploaded to his channel. Not that she’d ever tell Tyler that. And god forbid he’d ever stumble upon the saved favourites she watched in moments where she needed distraction from everything but him. 

“Well, seems like your prayers were answered, pretty. An EF4 and now we get to share a room, certainly feels like we’re even closer to heaven now, doesn’t it?” Tyler’s hand found her waist to give it a soft squeeze before he gently pushed her further into the motel room. It had been an exhausting day, filled with adrenaline highs as they chased tornadoes until the late evening. Even though they had been mesmerised by the beautiful disaster, they were now forced to stay in one of the close towns, cut off from the highway heading home. 

“I can take the couch.” She had her eyes set on the rather worn out couch which had been pushed against one of the walls that were painted in a faded out pink colour. The whole room made her feel like she was back at her grandparents home, letting an almost melancholic feeling settle in the pit of her stomach. 

“You sure you don’t wanna share? The bed’s big enough, or I could take the couch.” Tyler hung up his still wet hat before placing his bag down on the bed. (Y/n) watched him take in the room, giving her a few seconds to curse him for wearing a white shirt that now clung to his muscular upper body. His back muscles were shining through the wet fabric, letting her get lost in the thoughts of how it must feel to brush her nails along his soft skin. Thoughts that shot heat straight down to her core, knowing that she’d have to take care of that cursed longing in the shower. 

“In your dreams, Owens, and we both know you won’t fit on that couch.” His raspy laugh left her grinning, unable to stop her tired face from reacting to the man (y/n) claimed she hated and yet needed to feel close at any given chance. 

“Trust me, baby, my dreams are all about sharing a bed with you and so much more.” With a wink thrown her way, Tyler plopped down on the bed. He studied her for a moment, taking in her wet frame while his tongue kissed his teeth and his muscular arms were locked behind his head. She needed to get out of here, needed to find shelter in the warm shower before her body would do something she couldn’t stop it from doing. 

“I’ll grab a quick shower.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for his reply, darting for the bathroom that was just big enough for her to let go of a deep breath. 

She hated that she had dreamt of moments like these, wondering how it may play out with Tyler by her side, having to share a bed while the world outside was ending. And all they’d have eyes for would be one another, no matter how many tornadoes called for them. 

Within seconds, (y/n) had shuffled out of her wet clothes only to step into the small shower. She couldn’t stop her soft moan from leaving her as the warm water cascaded down her back as if it were hugging her. The silence she was now offered forced her thoughts back to the longing she couldn’t shake, the need to take care of the pulsing between her thighs that grew stronger with every passing moment. 

Her fingers moved quickly, knowing that she didn’t have much time before Tyler would disturb her peace, desperate for a shower himself. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her fingers circle her pulsing bundle, imaging Tyler’s fingers instead of her own. 

Would he touch her with the same kind of urgency? Would he draw the same moans from her she oh so desperately wanted to give in to? No, he wouldn’t. He’d make her feel things she had never felt before, clashing through her like a tornado stronger than she had ever been fortunate enough to study. Tyler Owens was her own personal disaster and she was close to letting him rip her off her feet, close to allowing him to have his way with her without being able to protest. 

“Fuck,” the word rolled off her tongue all too quickly, knowing that she was already close to giving in to her high. (Y/n) didn’t pay the ache in her forearm any mind, didn’t worry about the way her fingers begged her to move slower, all she was focused on were her thoughts that painted a picture of Tyler and the way he’d touch her.

And with her head rolled back and her lips tightly pressed together, she came. (Y/n) let her orgasm wash through her, rubbing her pulsing bundle a few more times before her tired body found its way out of the shower.

It took her a second to realise that she hadn’t taken any clean clothes with her, drawing yet another exhausted groan from her. Carefully, she opened the door, hiding behind her towel while her eyes found Tyler’s frame. No longer was he wearing his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her eyes which tried to burn every inch of his naked skin into her mind. 

“Tyler,” her soft voice drew his eyes from his phone. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

She expected a snarky comment, anything to tease her and rile her up some more, but Tyler stayed quiet, eyes focused on the parts of her body that weren’t covered by the door or her towel. (Y/n) could have sworn that he had swallowed heavily first before rising to his feet to reach for his bag. His eyes stayed glued to her while he reached a shirt out for her to take, letting his fingers brush against hers for a moment. 

It was cheesy almost, the buzz of lighting striking her at the small contact. A touch so small and yet so significant, her mind would probably think of it for days and nights to come.

With a small “thank you” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) stepped back into the bathroom to put on the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to cover her panties. Trembling legs carried her back into the room, not daring to look at Tyler, whose eyes she felt on her frame. No words were spoken between them as he pushed past her into the bathroom, allowing (y/n) to deeply exhale the second she was left alone once again. 

……

The moments after Tyler had returned from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers that clung to his body just as tightly as his wet shirt had, had been filled with a tight atmosphere. Barely any words had been shared between them, not as she had made herself comfortable on the couch, not as he had turned off the light while stretching out on the bed.

She had turned her back to him to stop her eyes from wandering, knowing that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when he was so close to her. Not when she heard his uneven breaths that told her he was still awake. Not when she could easily move closer to feel him pressed against her. 

What was he thinking of? Was he still riled up by today’s chase? Or was he also thinking of those moments where he had passed his shirt to her? 

Even though she begged her body to stay calm, to not move back towards him, she lost the fight within seconds. Her front was turned towards him, letting her eyes rest on the parts of his body that weren’t hidden by the blanket, making her awfully aware of how close he was to her. 

This was unusual for them, quiet moments where neither spoke, where no teasing or bickering could be heard. Nothing but the breaths both let go of while he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and she wasn't strong enough to look away from him just yet.

“I can feel you staring, pretty.” Tyler rolled his head towards her, eyes meeting (y/n)’s like lightning striking a tree, buzzing straight through it to set it ablaze. “What’s going on in that confusing mind of yours?”

“Just because you’re not smart enough to understand my thoughts it doesn’t mean my mind’s confusing.” The words had left her all too quickly, drawing a gritty laugh from Tyler. A sound she loved hearing, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. A sound that left her smiling the second her ears were fortunate enough to hear it. 

“You wound me. I’d say we’re a pretty good team when it comes to understanding your plans.” Heat spread through every part of her body, a heat she was all too used to by now but still didn’t know how to work with. She rolled her eyes at Tyler before refocusing on his handsome features, taking in every part of the face she knew like the back of her hand. 

Her breath hitched in her chest as he lifted the blanket, patting the spot next to him, “Come up here, I don’t need you complaining about back pain tomorrow.”

(Y/n)’s body moved without holding back, crawling to the spot next to him as if she had done this numerous times before. It felt awfully right to lay next to him, to feel Tyler’s arm slowly wrap around her middle to cage her against his chest. 

“Do you remember the first time we chased together?” She tried to stop her hand from moving as he spoke, she really did. But yet (y/n) miserably failed, unable to keep away from his soft skin any longer, needing to feel it beneath her wandering fingers as she traced slow patterns on the skin of his warm chest. 

“I wanted to break your nose that day, god, you were even cockier back then. Do you still think people instantly recognise you when you meet them?” He shook his head with a smirk playing on his lips, tightening his grip on (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. That day was replaying in her mind every now and then, remembering how he had misjudged her for a fangirl, expecting her to almost faint when shaking his hand. And yet she hadn’t known much about him, had never watched any of his videos before that day. Something Tyler hadn’t taken as lightly as he should have, turning into the cocky asshole she had cursed for the past months.

“I no longer care about that, only worry about impressing you, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let his eyes flicker back to the ceiling. His sharp jawline was exposed to her wandering eyes, making (y/n) awfully aware of how easily she could kiss him right now. It took everything in her not to move, to hold still as her heart picked up its beat. Whatever it was that had urged her on to fight against him these past months, it was now gone, leaving her unable to fight back and in need of something more. 

“We both know that’s a lie, Owens. All you worry about is tornadoes and busty women who ask you to sign their cleavages.” Her laugh was mixed with his as he let his gaze find hers again while squeezing her side. She fought against his grip, hating that he had found her most ticklish spot that made her toss and turn against him. Tyler seemed to enjoy the sight, letting his fingers find the spot again while shifting her around to hover over (y/n). With one hand pressed to the pillow and his knees caging in her right thigh, he left her no room to move away from him. 

“Do I hear jealousy?” His eyes wandered over her face, focusing on her lips as she fought against the need to look away. “You know there’s no need to be jealous, pretty. All you gotta do is give in and stop fighting our bond.” 

A sharp reply was burning on her tongue, and yet her body managed to win the fight, letting her fingers find the back of Tyler’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. He instantly replied to the touch, adding more pressure to the kiss with his body shuffling closer. It felt as if they were burning, tied together like two matches setting a petrol station ablaze, ready to alight the darkening night. 

With every swipe of his tongue, with every moan rumbling through them, it set in further that this was finally happening, that they were finally crossing that last bridge. No longer was she set on fighting it, purely focused on Tyler’s touch and the need to feel him as close as humanly possible. 

“Talk to me, baby, what do you want?” Her mind was torn between the kisses they kept sharing and the feeling of him growing against her thigh, telling (y/n) that he needed and wanted this as much as she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, letting her nails scratch his skin with just enough pressure to leave him tingling in excitement. 

“Everything, I want all of you, Tyler.” Hours ago she would have cursed herself for giving in so easily, for admitting that insatiable hunger she had felt for months now. But she no longer found it in herself to care, could no longer shy away from having whatever Tyler was about to offer her. Her words drew a groan from the tall tornado wrangler who kissed his way down her throat while shifting his weight onto his knees. They held eye contact as his hands disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was wearing, finding their way straight to her chest. 

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me, every part of you.” His praises sank in like a ship hitting the ocean ground, sinking lower with every passing second, forever resting on the ground like the praises he spoke to her. Forever etched into her mind. Forever remembering the way they made her feel lightheaded and giddy. 

Urgently he pulled the shirt over her head, set on exposing her body to his hungry eyes. Tyler let go of another groan as he looked down at her, making a silent promise that he’d have to take a picture of her in that position one of these days. He dipped his head down to  suck on her nipples, making her moan for him while she spread her thighs for him. His core met hers, leaving both breathless as his clothed cock rubbed against her clothed heat – a feeling so intense, it only urged Tyler on to move further down her body. 

“Will you let me taste you, pretty?” Only a breathless “Please” left (y/n), drawing a smirk to his lips. She watched his eyes light up as he pushed her panties down her legs, looking like he was marvelling at art – art so mesmerising he couldn’t stop staring. 

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Those were the last words Tyler spoke before his tongue brushed her folds, drawing a moan from the both of them. His arms wove their way around her thighs, keeping her pressed to him as he ate her out like a starving man, high on her taste and the sounds she made for him. 

Nothing but moans managed to leave (y/n), getting lost in the feeling of Tyler sucking on her pulsing bundle, while he pushed two fingers into her – doing just what she had imagined him doing in the shower a while ago. He instantly managed to find that spot that made her see stars as he pressed down on it with his fingers, forcing (y/n) to choke on her sounds.

“Oh god, Tyler,” he chuckled against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through every part of her. From the corner of his eyes he could see her fist the covers with her free hand, the one that wasn’t buried in his hair, telling him that she was already close. And yet Tyler knew that he’d pull away soon, wanting to feel her cum around his cock like he had imagined her doing the past months. 

Tyler had worked hard for her attention, knowing that he had fucked it up the first time they had met. She had instantly managed to push him off his high horse, bruising his ego with her sharp words he could still recite today. And yet it had only made him desperate for more, set on pulling her closer like no other woman before her. 

“I could die a happy death between your thighs, pretty, but I need to fuck you now.” The dazy look she shot him made him feel proud, knowing that she had been about to cum on his tongue. She didn’t reply, at least not with words, with nothing but a whine did she pull him towards her for another kiss. He shuffled out of his boxers, freeing his twitching cock with a few movements. 

“Let me grab a condom.” He left her side for a moment, allowing (y/n) to sort through her thoughts which were all over the place. And yet she couldn’t carry about anything but the need to feel him buried inside of her, knowing that once she knew what it feels like to have him so close, she’d never be able to let him go again. A thought that left her torn between excitement and anxiety, unsure what was awaiting them. 

“Do you still want this? We don’t have to do this if you’re unsure, (y/n).” Tyler’s whispers ripped her out of her spiralling thoughts. She shook her head at him before pulling back in, focused on his handsome face, mustering every spot she could blindly find. 

“I want this, want you.” That’s all he needed to hear before aligning himself with her heat and slowly pushing into her. With his forehead pressed against hers, both needed a moment to adjust, not expecting to feel this, unable to put the sensation into any words that would make sense to their minds. It felt like they had been made for one another, made solemnly for this moment that felt as if the world had spinning, thrown off its path. 

“Move, please, Ty’.” He instantly gave in, pulling out of her only to push in with more strength. Their bodies met with every ferocious thrust, sending bolts of electricity down her spine. She arched her back off the mattress, needing to be even closer to him while he kept burying himself inside of her. 

Blood rushed in her ears, drowning everything out but the sounds Tyler made, sounds so raspy and deep she feared it was another tornado growing in the distance, guttural sounds which left her walls fluttering around his cock. Her fingernails scratched at his shoulder, set on leaving red marks that wouldn’t fade for days, claiming him in the most primal way she could come up with at that moment. 

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you like that for the rest of my life.” The words roll off his tongue just like that. There was no way he could stop them from leaving him. And for the first time in minutes she finds herself ripped out of her state, staring up at him with wide eyes. But Tyler doesn’t say another word, all he does is study her while fucking her closer to the edge. 

“Do you mean that?” She struggled to speak, needing to ground herself before choking on her words. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as he nodded his head while watching a smile grow on her slightly swollen lips. “Good, I don’t want you to let me go again, Owens.”

He took the words as a challenge, adding even more pressure to his thrusts to throw (y/n) back into her dazed state. With his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, he knew that it was only a matter of moments before she’d cum around his cock, allowing him to take in the most beautiful sight he’d ever be fortunate enough to see. 

His name left (y/n) one last time before falling off the edge. His hips kept meeting hers, fucking her through her high while feeling his own crawling closer. She clung to him, murmuring his name like her own personal mantra as he followed her, letting go with a groan she’d forever remember.

It took both a moment to move again, for him to pull out of her and to get rid of the condom and for her to slightly shift around on the mattress, watching his every move with her weight balanced on her forearms. Tyler found his way back to her within seconds, hovering over her to press another kiss to the lips he’d never get tired of kissing. 

“Are you okay?” His whispers left (y/n) grinning, nodding against his lips while another wave of euphoria swapped through her. 

“More than.” Unspoken feelings were hanging heavily in the air, knowing that both would have to address them rather soon, but all they did was look at one another, marvelling at the person they never wanted to let go of again. “Thank you for this.”

“Nothing to thank me for, pretty. And hell, I’m not even close to being finished with you tonight.”

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter One - Olivia Ricciardo

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.6K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Olivia Ricciardo came running out of daycare with a wide grin on her face. Her grandparents just wished her dad could have been there to see it as she ran into their arms. It wasn’t his fault; even once his little girl was born, he still had a job to do.

Daniel was there for half of the week at least. But for the rest of the week, his parents took care of her, feeding her, letting her sleep in the bedroom she had in their house, and transporting her to and from daycare. Every time her dad would leave, Olivia would scream and cry for at least a couple of hours. At least until her grandparents had her facetiming her father and Daniel could talk to his little girl.

This time, when Olivia came running out to her grandparents car, she immediately asked if she could call her daddy. “I wanna tell him about the new friend I made!” she said through a wide grin as she bounced in her seat.

As her grandma drove, her grandpa pulled out his phone, calling Daniel. He kept a hold of the phone until his son picked up. After saying hello to him, he passed the phone back to Olivia. “Hi daddy!” She called, but Daniel could hardly see her from how much she was moving the phone around.

“Hi, Livvy!” Daniel grinned at his daughter. He’d missed her so much this week. His short break the year before, before he had been placed in the AlphaTauri, he’d spent the entire time with Olivia. He’d only gone to the races on the weekends, and since Olivia only went to daycare on Tuesday to Friday, she went with him.

But now that Daniel was driving again, he left Olivia with his parents. He didn’t want to take her out of daycare to be at his races; that was how she socialized. And this was proof of that.

“Daddy, I made a new friend!” Olivia shouted.

Daniel couldn’t stop his grin from becoming wider at that. “That’s great news Livvy!” He shouted, telling the news to whoever was near him.  

Suddenly the phone moved away from her dad. Olivia watched as somebody else grabbed hold of the phone, holding it in front of his face. “Hi, Livia!” Said her Uncle Max as he held the phone up in front of his face. As usual, he wore his Redbull hat. This one had a number One on it. Olivia had several Redbull hats. She had several with her dad’s number and one of Max’s old ones, with the thirty-three on it. “Your dad tells me you made a new friend!”

“Yeah, uncle Max. His name is Milo and he shared his crayons with me so that I could do my colouring book.”

"That's great, Livia!" Max said.

He said his goodbyes and passed the phone back to Daniel, who was only too happy to be talking to his daughter again. "Maybe you could invite Milo round for a playdate when you're back from your mums house, Jelly Bean," he said and the smile dropped from Olivias face.

It was so secret who Olivias favourite parents was. Even though she rarely got to see him, she loved her dad more than anything. Daniel didn't know what happened at his ex's place in what made Olivia hate it so much, but he had no right to stop it.

If he tried, his ex could easily pull up the fact that Daniel was never there and his parents saw Olivia more than he did. If Olivia would tell him why she hated it, maybe he could do something that would stop her from having to spend every other week with her mother.

"But, daddy, I want to be there when you get home," Olivia said, wearing a pout.

Daniel hated seeing his little girl like that. He loved her more than anything and never wanted to see the smile drop from her face. His Olivia, he'd go to the ends of the earth for her.

The people surrounding him indicated that it was time to go, but Daniel kept smiling as he looked at the phone. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay, Jelly Bean?"

"Okay," she said and passed the phone back to her grandfather without saying goodbye.

Daniel smile turned sad as he looked at his father. "Make sure she has snuffles before she goes," he said sadly before saying goodbye to his parents. They knew what to do by now, they'd been sending her to her mother’s house for the last five years.

“What’re we having for dinner tonight, Livvy?” Her grandma asked as they pulled into the driveway.

The scowl dropped from Oliva’s face and she started bouncing in her seat, chanting ‘turkey dinosaurs!’ over and over again.

Turkey dinosaurs it was.

***

“Milo, honey, can you feed the cat please!” Y/N shouted, pulling the phone away from her ear as she turned back to the stove.

Milo came running down the stairs, already in his dinosaur pyjamas and dinosaur slippers. He ran to the front door, where the cat bowl was, and used the tiny, novelty shovel to scoop the cat food into the bowl. It was a little too much, but Poppy (the cat) wouldn’t mind.

“Wash your hands for dinner!” She shouted and placed the phone back between her shoulder and her ear.

“Mum, I don’t need your money,” she said as she plated up the Italian dish she had made. Well, it was spaghetti with carbonara, with turkey dinosaurs on the side to get Milo to eat it.

She heard her mother sigh down the phone. “Well, if you won���t take our money, your father and I are going to visit,” she said and hung up, without saying so much as a goodbye.

Placing her phone down, Y/N put the plates on the table and waited for Milo to come running in. He jumped into his chair and picked up his knives and fork. “I made a new friend today, momma!” Called Milo as he put down his knife and fork and picked up the turkey tyrannosaurus. He bit the head off and roared with the food still in his mouth, leading his mother to scold him.

“Tell me about your new friend, Mi,” she said as she ate her own dinner (like Milo, Y/N had a turkey dinosaur on her plate. It was the triceratops, Milo’s least favourite).

So, Milo told his mother all about his new friend, Olivia Ricciardo. He boasted about how he shared his pencils and Miss Green didn’t even have to ask him. Olivia sat beside him as they coloured, telling him all about her dad who drove race cars.

“Yeah, momma! Her dad is a famous race car driver! How cool is that?”

“Very cool, Milo,” Y/N answered as she picked up his plate to clear up. Of course, she didn’t believe that Milo’s new friend’s father was a famous race car driver. That was the sort of things kids said to impress each other. Just six months before Milo had told some boys that his father was a famous football player.

Milo stayed sat at the kitchen table, kicking his feet. “I can’t wait for daycare,” he said to himself as he knocked his fist against the table in time to the music.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from grinning as Milo continued talking about daycare. It hadn’t had an easy time making friends, but now he had one and she couldn’t be happier.

As soon as she was finished with the washing up, Y/N ruffled his hair with her soapy hands. “Bedtime, little man,” she said, and Milo jumped out of his chair and ran up the stairs.

He ran into his bedroom and dove under the covers. He grabbed a hold of Rexy, his tyrannosaurus teddy bear, and Spike, his Stegosaurus teddy bear, and held them close. He watched as his mum walked in and pulled a book from his shelf. “How do we feel about the magician’s nephew?” She asked as she pulled the little book from the shelf.

“Yay, Narnia!” Milo called as Y/N sat on the end of the bed and cracked open the book. Just a few months ago Milo had been complaining about picture books, since one of the boys in his class had started reading actual books. So, Y/N was working with him so that he could read ordinary books on his own.

“Momma,” Milo began, interrupting her as she read. “Can Olivia come round for a playdate?”

Y/N placed a dinosaur bookmark between the pages. “Only if Olivia’s mummy and daddy say it’s okay,” she said as she put the book back and switched on his dinosaur night light.

“Olivia doesn’t like her mummy,” Milo replied as she turned on his side, still holding Spike and Rexy.

Y/N walked over and kissed the top of his head as she tucked him in. “Well, I’ll just have to speak to her daddy then, won’t I,” she said and stood up straight. “Goodnight, Munchkin,” she said as Milo turned towards the wall, his eyes shut.

“Goodnight, momma.”

Y/N walked out of the room, leaving the door open just a little. As she left Poppy the cat ran in and jumped on his bed (a dinosaur blanket, of course), curling up by his feet.

With Milo now asleep, Y/N went back downstairs. She sat at the kitchen table, pulled out her laptop and, like she did every night, began writing.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Ratio, Boothill and Sampo got body swap with reader

“Today, you're me and I'm you”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Platonic, Body Swap, Humor, Chaos, Identity Confusion, Transformation.

Warnings: Mild language, Slight violence(?), Confusion and identity crises, Possible mild awkwardness from body swap dynamics, Some references to body-related discomfort, Potential for humorously exaggerated reactions to new forms.

Aventurine never expected the day would come when his flawless, sophisticated appearance would be swapped with someone else, especially not with you. One moment, he was standing tall in his usual impeccable outfit, the swish of his coat echoing his poised elegance, and the next, he was you—dazed, confused, and staring down at an unfamiliar set of clothes.

The first thing Aventurine noticed was how strange the sensation of your body was. It was… compact, not the tailored form he was used to, and the clothes? The fabric didn’t fit him properly. He could feel his heart race as the disorientation set in, something he was not accustomed to.

You, on the other hand, stood in Aventurine’s body, completely overwhelmed by the sophisticated cut of the clothing that clung to his frame. The peacock feather glimmering in the hat, the soft thrum of anticipation in his chest—his body seemed to hum with a strange energy. Even his glasses—rose-tinted—felt like an alien accessory on your face.

In his new body, Aventurine felt the power of his manipulative charm. The confidence that had always been there, hidden beneath a smile, now flowed effortlessly. He stood straighter, the sharp wit in his mind already beginning to work. He gave you a charming grin. “It seems that fate has decided to have a bit of fun,” he said, his voice smooth and playful, though his usual cryptic flair seemed less effective in this unfamiliar form.

You couldn't help but chuckle, noticing how his charismatic aura still somehow seeped through, even in his temporary state. “This is… odd, but not completely unbearable, is it?”

Aventurine’s lips quirked, “Strangely… no. But I wonder how you’ll fare with my usual responsibilities?”

The two of you were forced into roles you never would have imagined for yourselves—he in your body, you in his. As the day wore on, Aventurine quickly adapted, using his newly acquired form to charm his way through meetings and strategic discussions. He realized how much of a game his life was. But it was your mind that guided his movements, your hand that touched the fabric of his destiny. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered how it felt to live without always having to manipulate the outcomes.

Meanwhile, you—now in Aventurine’s body—fumbled through things that were second nature to him. But there was an odd comfort in the sheer elegance of his every action. You realized something deep about him—the effortless way he controlled and guided people with nothing but his presence.

It was a strange experience, a dance between you both as you swapped the roles of puppeteer and puppet, your understanding of each other shifting in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

It didn’t take long for Ratio to realize that something wasn’t right. One moment he was basking in the glory of his intellect, dictating profound ideas about the importance of eradicating ignorance and spreading knowledge across the universe, and the next, he was—well, you. A flurry of thoughts rushed through his mind, as his expert control over his own body was suddenly gone.

The disorientation was almost maddening for someone so precise in both mind and form. He blinked—your eyes were not his, yet they still glowed with the same fiery determination that burned in his own. But it was the body that truly threw him off: clumsy and strange, foreign yet intimately yours.

He stood in your body, his fingers brushing unfamiliar fabric as he tried to make sense of the new sensation. His usual air of superiority faltered. “What kind of bizarre cosmic trickery is this?” he muttered to himself, brushing back strands of his newly acquired hair that felt too soft compared to the usual texture of his wavy violet locks.

Meanwhile, you, now inhabiting Ratio’s body, were struggling to keep up with his monumental intellect. His brain was filled with theories and facts, some that you could grasp and others that you couldn’t, like trying to read a book in an entirely new language. But there was an undeniable rush to the experience—a strange feeling of empowerment, to feel like you could accomplish anything, if only you could access all of it.

Ratio, in your body, was much less composed. You noticed how his personality started to crack when his usual confidence faltered. He paced back and forth, mumbling under his breath, trying to figure out how he could regain control of his situation. "This is utterly... inconceivable," he grumbled. "And what are these emotions? How do you function with this incessant need for... for... connection?"

You couldn’t help but laugh, the voice of his frustration amusing as you adapted to the newfound power in his frame. "You’d be surprised. You’re not the only one with a brilliant mind," you teased, trying to sound as intellectual as he would, though your unfamiliarity with his erudite style made it come out a little more playful than you intended.

As the day passed, Ratio found himself forced to engage with your responsibilities while you, in his body, tried to handle his lofty ideals. By the end of the day, there was a shared understanding—he couldn’t fully comprehend your world, and you couldn’t fully comprehend his—but both of you walked away with an invaluable lesson in perspective.

Boothill, a creature of vengeance, had always worn his identity like a badge of honor. The weight of his mechanical limbs, the edge of his cowboy persona, were all his own. But when the body swap hit, he was taken aback. One moment, he was sharpening his guns, preparing for another bounty hunt, and the next, he was staring at his hands—your hands.

"What in tarnation...?" Boothill growled, his voice now awkwardly foreign in a body he didn’t recognize.

Meanwhile, you found yourself staring back at Boothill’s signature red scarf and rugged cowboy body. The weight of his mechanical limbs felt heavy on your frame, the sheer force of his presence almost overwhelming. His boots felt too big, and the sensation of his long white hair flowing past your shoulders was a bizarre, disorienting thing.

Boothill didn’t quite know what to make of this. You had his body now—his cybernetic enhancements, his unwavering drive for revenge. But it was your mind guiding his movements. At first, you felt like an imposter—this wasn’t you. But as time went on, something within you clicked. Maybe it was the gun in your hand or the thrill of the chase, but you began to move with a kind of dangerous fluidity, just like Boothill.

“Guess I’ve got no choice but to walk in your boots for a while,” you muttered, the words coming naturally despite the disorienting feeling of someone else’s rage bubbling inside you.

Boothill, in your body, was even more frustrated. Your form wasn’t accustomed to the mechanical precision of his body. His mind was sharp, always calculating, but now, trying to function in your body, it was more difficult than he anticipated. “This is absurd. I can’t feel the gun as well, and this body is too... soft. How do you stand it?”

"You’ll figure it out," you shot back, spinning Boothill's gun expertly. "But I don’t know if I’ll last long with your anger burning through me."

The two of you spent the day navigating the harsh world of vengeance from different perspectives, each of you learning something valuable about the body you had stolen—Boothill about your resilience, and you about his need for closure.

When the body swap hit, Sampo barely even flinched. After all, he was used to change, used to the chaos. But waking up in your body was a new experience for him.

The first thing Sampo noticed was how small your body felt compared to his usual tall, lean frame. His light skin, dark blue hair, and mismatched gloves didn’t seem quite so impressive when he looked at himself from your perspective.

He grinned mischievously, “Well, well, looks like the tables have turned. I’m you now, huh?”

You were less than impressed, standing in Sampo’s body, feeling the weight of his charm press against your every thought. Sampo was a master of words, a smooth-talker who could convince anyone to buy into his schemes. But you now realized how tiring it could be to maintain that façade.

Sampo reveled in the new body, instantly seeing the potential for profit. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he casually walked around in your frame. “Oh, I can already feel the gears turning, ready to hustle someone out of their last coin.”

Meanwhile, you, stuck in Sampo’s body, tried to keep up with his unpredictable and slippery behavior. “I don’t think this is the time for business, Sampo. We need to figure out how to switch back.”

But Sampo only laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out. For now, though, I think it’s time we made a little profit out of this situation.”

By the end of the day, both of you had adapted in your own ways—Sampo, using his new-found ability to talk circles around people, and you, beginning to understand the fine art of deception. As always, Sampo made everything seem like a game—one that you were now reluctantly part of.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

interaction with mama or papa leech (or both) please!

yuu was walking down the hallway along with jade and floyd, exchanging stories of recent happenings before it was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out to them.

"jade! floyd!"

by the looks of the twins' excited expressions and the occasion of family day, they connected the dots that it must be their parents and swiftly hid behind one of the brothers before the person came into view, trying to remove their own presence. although jade had clarified that they had a normal family business, they can't help but get nervous and perhaps a bit frightened, especially with how the leech's definition of "normal" is quite... questionable. maybe if they're lucky, they can make a run for it before they start to take notice...

(i hope i did this right!)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Mother and father.”

“Mom!! Pops!!”

You hesitantly peered out from behind the twins. Two lanky figures towered over you, as imposing as skyscrapers.

Mr. Leech was stone-faced, skin slightly grooved like a rock carved by the crashing waves, teal hair streaked with black slicked back with gel. His eyes were like beacons of light searching in the night--sharp, discerning. He wore a smart pinstriped suit, polished shoes, and gloves, reminding you of an older Jade.

Mrs. Leech's lithe form was wrapped in an off-the-shoulder sun dress, the slit of it riding halfway up her thigh, skirt spilling into a waterfall of gathered tulle. A string of creamy pearls--simple, understated--drapes across her collar. Her wide brim hat shaded her face, but you could still admire how she had expertly painted her lips and eyes, how her hair fell in a loose wave over one shoulder. She was like Floyd, mixing an impeccable fashion sense with a slight hint of danger.

When Mrs. Leech spotted her sons, she charged at them at a speed that was shocking for a woman in high heels. She threw her arms around Jade and Floyd, pulling them in for a tight hug.

"My babies!! I've missed you so much, darlings," she gushed. "How are classes? How are clubs? You must tell me everything...!"

“It’s wonderful to see you as well. We have much to catch up on.”

“Ehehehe~ Mom? you’re squeezin’ me so hard! Watch out, cuz I’ll get’cha back!!”

Mr. Leech cleared his throat. "Pardon the interruption, but..." His eyes cut to you—no longer concealed by the twins—and you froze, pinned in place by his stern gaze. “It seems we have a stranger in our midst. Jade and Floyd's... friendly acquaintance, I presume."

Mrs. Leech released her children. “Just a moment, dear!!”

The giantess appeared before you, her shadow larger than life. You managed a single shaky step backwards before her claw-like nails dug into you.

“Ah, mom went right to work,” Floyd said in a singsong.

“Do stay still,” Jade advised you. “It will make the process go by much more quickly.”

J-Just what is going to happen to me?!

Mrs. Leech’s hands ran the length of your body and its crevices. She never lingered in one spot. Pat, pat, pat, then onto the next area.

A full body pat-down?!

“All clear,” Mrs. Leech called to her husband.

“Excellent. That is a relief." Mr. Leech adjusted his tie and offered a wane smile. "Excuse us. We're in the habit of running through a series of safety protocols before receiving guests. Unfortunately, it's terribly inefficient to carry out in a public setting." He paused. "... How do you feel about signing nondisclosure agreements?"

"N-Nondisclosure agreements?!"

"Honey, you're going to terrify the poor thing," Mrs. Leech tutted--but she was giggling faintly as though she had just heard a witty joke. "Don't worry. My husband can be a very gentle man."

D-Don't that imply he also has the capacity to be very ungentle?!

"E-Erm..." You worriedly glanced at the twins, who were smirking (but, you had noticed, not actually intervening).

"What does your family do, anyway?" you once asked Jade.

He had taped a finger to his lips and mysteriously answered, "They simply run an independent business that dabbles in a bit of everything. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you."

"Some help here, guys?" you whimpered.

"Sorry, not much we can do," Floyd responded with a (very unhelpful) shrug. "Dad's got his stuffy processes. No one can get in the way of those."

"I-I'm not going to be roped into making as blood pact, am I?!"

"Blood pact? My, what an active imagination you have." Jade chuckled. "I believe I have informed you before that our family business is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Frankly, I'm not sure I believe you anymore!"

"Oh my~ Did you hear that, dear?" Mrs. Leech grabbed her husband by the arm. "It sounds as though Jade and Floyd's friend doesn't trust us."

"Indeed." He was smiling, but it did not fully reach his eyes. "It would be a shame if we allowed them to walk away with the wrong impression of our happy little family."

"Fufufu... We'll have to correct that, won't we?"

[roosterforme]

Sloppy Math Homework | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is the first one to admit that he always has been and always will be a sucker for how smart you are. There's something so hot about you in teacher mode, and he loves it when you take charge. But he's in for a surprise when you dole out a new kind of punishment for turning in sloppy work that leaves him fully at your mercy.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, smut, teacher/18+ student roleplay, spanking, paddling, consensual roleplay punishment

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist

Bradley's heart was pounding when he walked through the front door to find you still dressed in your work clothes even though you got home around lunchtime on Fridays. He had been prepared to start cooking dinner, but the sight of you in your loafers and snug tweed skirt was enough to make his cock twitch.

"Are you ready for class, Mr. Bradshaw?" you asked, hands on your hips and one eyebrow raised. 

He took a deep breath and nodded slowly before he said, "I am so ready for calculus class, Dr. Sugar." Your smirk had his brain working overtime, wondering what exactly you had in mind for him. A blowjob if he aced his exam? Sex on your desk if he could solve the equation tattooed at the top of your ribcage? A handjob that lasted as long as he could accurately recite the decimals in pi?

It didn't matter what it was, he wanted it. He was aching for it. Bradley was a mess for his wife. And when you shook your pretty head at him standing there in his uniform and said, "You're not dressed for class," he could feel his cock pressing the inside of his zipper through his underwear. 

He glanced down at his khaki shirt and pants. "What should I be wearing, Professor?" he asked in a low, deep voice that had you getting a little flustered. He could tell. He knew all of your cues, and right now you were squeezing your thighs together.

You cocked your head slightly to the side and eyed him up and down. "I just don't think that's what a college student would be wearing to his weekly math lecture, Beer Boy."

Ah, okay. So you wanted college Beer Boy right now. Bradley could absolutely deliver on that for you. "Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, looking at the floor and his boots. "You're right. I'm not dressed appropriately for your class."

You nodded and said, "Meet me in my office when you're ready to learn something new." And with that, you spun and disappeared down the hallway leaving Bradley to watch the sway of your ass in all that tight tweed fabric. 

You were sexy academia personified for him, and he loved it so much when you wanted to be in charge. But truly, Bradley felt a little bad for the twenty something year old guys who had to sit through your classes. You just looked that good. You looked good when you were at The University of Virginia as a math major, and somehow you looked even hotter now as a math professor. 

He smirked. He'd enjoyed your body at both of those points in time. And he was the only one who knew exactly where and how much you'd filled out from your twenties to your thirties. "Shit," he grunted, realizing he was wasting time thinking about your tits when he could probably be looking at them. 

Bradley tore into the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He was already hard enough that it was challenging to get his uniform pants off, but he managed to leave a pile of khaki clothing on the floor as he rummaged around for his favorite Grateful Dead shirt. It was neatly folded in the dresser with your clothing since you wore it way more frequently than he did. But he pulled it on and found the University of Chicago hat you'd given him and tossed it on backwards. You always liked to run your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath his hats, and Bradley was practically panting just thinking about it.

He palmed himself through his boxer shorts as he pushed your office door open a little wider, grinning where you'd written SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY across it. And then he spotted you, sitting on the edge of the desk with your legs crossed. A few more of the buttons on your blouse were open now, and you were gesturing to your desk chair. 

"Have a seat, Mr. Bradshaw." Your voice was soft and sultry, nothing like the tone you used when you gave a lecture to your students. How did he get this fucking lucky? 

"Yes, Dr. Sugar," he replied, and you smirked. He stepped closer to the soft glow coming from his navy desk lamp which lived in this room, and he slipped down into your chair. Bradley desperately wanted to run his hands up your legs and tuck them inside your skirt, but he knew he wouldn't be allowed. So instead, he took the pencil and calculator you handed to him and looked up at your pretty face.

"I want you to work on your math homework sheet," you whispered, flipping over the single sheet of paper in front of him on the desk. Then you leaned down and kissed his temple, brushing your lips along the hair sticking out from under his cap. "Get started."

Bradley groaned softly, unsure how exactly he was going to be able to do this when his cock was aching so much. Plus, you were making no secret of the fact that you were looking at his tented boxers like you wanted to climb in his lap. 

"You're really proud of yourself, aren't you?" he asked, punching some numbers into the calculator to try to solve the first problem. "You got me so hard, I can barely concentrate, and all you did was talk to me and kiss my fucking hair."

You stroked your fingers along the strands of his hair you had kissed and said, "No cursing in my classroom. And no talking at all while you're working."

Bradley grunted as he scribbled down an answer for the first problem that he was actually pretty sure was correct. Visiting your evening lectures had really started to pay off. He'd always been pretty good at math, but now he was proficient in calculus and linear algebra. The only problem was, when most people thought about school, it turned them off. But simply looking at math problems made him harder. There was probably something wrong with him. 

You hummed as he answered the second equation, but when he looked up at your face, you said, "Eyes on your paper, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Yes, Professor," he whispered, and he was rewarded with the sight of you licking your lips. He was aching for a blowjob right now. He might get one if all of his answers were correct. So as quickly as he could, Bradley finished the remaining questions and slid the paper closer to you. "How did I do?"

You sank your teeth into your lip as you looked at him. Then you took the paper in your hands and murmured, "Let's see..."

Every little twitch of your brow and the way your eyes narrowed after a moment were telling enough, but when you met his gaze over the paper, he knew he had missed one. 

"If you just give me another minute, Dr. Sugar-"

"I gave you plenty of time already, Mr. Bradshaw," you said, stroking along his scarred cheek with your nails as you set the paper aside. You wrapped your fingers down along his chin and tipped his face up to meet yours. When you leaned in and kissed his lips sweetly, he was immediately reaching for your body. But then you jerked his chin up another inch and said, "But you missed number five, and I don't accept sloppy math homework."

Bradley groaned as your nails raked down his neck, because this was doing nothing to alleviate his erection. And now he was a little nervous about that problem he missed. "Does this mean you're going to make me take care of this myself?" he whispered, gesturing to his tented boxer shorts. 

The devilish smirk on your face actually thrilled him as you said, "Not exactly." Then you stood and took both of his hands gently in yours and pulled him to his feet. Bradley groaned as his erection trailed up your body until his length was resting against your belly. You pressed one more kiss to his lips and adjusted his backward cap as he throbbed against you. Then you stepped to the side and guided him to place both of his palms on your desk. 

Bradley looked at you and asked, "What's happening here?" Then you walked behind him and pushed the chair toward the center of the room, and Bradley felt your hands reach inside the elastic of his boxer shorts and start to guide them down until they dropped down to his feet. 

"What's happening is your punishment for your sloppy homework. Keep your palms on the desk, Mr. Bradshaw." You ran your hands softly along Bradley's ass, and he didn't move an inch. His cock was painfully hard now and leaping in the air, begging to be touched. 

He turned to his left where you were kissing along his neck now as you squeezed his ass. He moaned, "Baby, I might cum. I'm not even kidding."

You gasped and slapped his ass, and Bradley's jaw dropped open. "Baby? I'm your teacher! Show me some respect."

"P-Professor Sugar," he managed as his skin stung where you hit him. Then to Bradley's surprise, you opened the top drawer of your desk, and sitting right next to your post it notes was his Beta Gamma fraternity paddle. It was made of solid oak and painted in a psychedelic tie dye pattern that he always thought looked really cool. But the last time he saw the thing, it was on top of the bedroom closet. And as you wrapped your fingers around the handle, it dawned on Bradley why it was here and why he was standing like this.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, and the look of mischief was gone as you squeezed his bicep and kissed the edge of his mustache. "I thought it might be fun to spank you, Beer Boy. But if you say no, then I'll put it away, and we can find something else fun to do."

Bradley eyed the paddle, and his mind was flooded with memories of his fraternity days. Not all of them were good, but he'd met you at his frat house. And you were the best thing in his life. And for some reason, the idea of that tie dye paddle hitting his bare skin was actually appealing to him. This was not something he had ever thought about before, but in the hands of his wife, he wanted it.

"Yes," he replied, kissing your lips as you started to smile. "I want you to, Professor Sugar."

You nodded and whispered, "If you don't like it, just tell me." Then you squared your shoulders and said in a louder voice, "I can't go easy on you, because you'll keep pulling this stunt over and over with me."

"I understand," he replied, letting you bend him a little more at the waist as you strolled around to stand behind him. And then he yelped as the paddle made solid contact with his right ass cheek. "Oh, fuck." But no sooner had he muttered those words than the paddle hit him in the same spot again. The stinging was intense as you apparently wound up to send the paddle to the same place a third time. "Baby," he whined, because if anything, he was more turned on than before.

Your only response was to switch to his other side and bring the paddle to an untouched patch of skin. Over and over until it was burning so much that Bradley was recoiling from the sound and feel of it. But his hips were thrusting forward now, and he was practically begging for relief from your mouth or your pussy. But he kept his palms planted on the top of the desk. And the pleasure and stinging pain mingled in his mind so much that he found himself whining your name. 

A moment later, you set the paddle on the desk next to his left hand, and Bradley looked up into your lust filled eyes. "Sugar?" he gasped, and you were prying his hands from the desk and pulling him close. Your lips came crashing into his as you grabbed at his shirt. He was rutting into you now, afraid he'd cum on your tweed but unwilling to try to hold himself back. 

"Bradley, that was so fucking hot," you moaned, turning him around and pushing him down to sit on the desk. It felt delightfully cold on his raw skin, but he winced at the same time. It was almost too much to handle. But then you were yanking your skirt up to reveal you were bare underneath, and you scrambled up onto his lap. 

"Easy," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. But then your perfectly tight warmth came sinking down around his cock, and he knew he was going to last about ten seconds in this state. He shook his head and whispered, "I'm gonna cum."

You held his face gently in both hands and kissed his forehead as you told him, "You earned it." And all the while you bounced up and down on him, bottoming out and whining softly.

So Bradley took your perfect ass in both of his palms and guided you just how he wanted you, and then he filled you up with his cum. You were peppering his cheeks with kisses as he sat there with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. 

"You just spanked me with my Beta Gamma paddle. For my sloppy math homework," he marveled out loud, still nestled inside you. "When I'm not even your student."

You let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder and said, "You're my best student." Then your fingers were teasing at his curls sticking out from under his hat. "And if you enjoyed it, we can do it again."

Bradley groaned and said, "My ass needs a couple days off after that." Then he smirked as he reached for the paddle and rubbed it gently across your bare bottom. Your eyes went wide as your head came off his shoulder. "Yours on the other hand..."

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

Oh look, a new kink unlocked for Beer Boy and Sugar. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Some things I’ve noticed on my second viewing of “Five Nights at Freddy’s” (2023)

(Some of these are obvious, don’t @ me, I’m autistic and I had work the day I first watched the film so my brain was all over the place)

Once again, SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARE AVOIDING SPOILERS!!!!

On my first viewing I thought that showing the security guard at the very start loosening the bolts of the chair straps was a fake out to make us believe he’d escape, but actually he loosened the bolts which is how Mike was able to escape later on

Just want to say that the opening credits are fucking cool and I love them so much

In my previous post about things in the FNAF movie, I incorrectly said there was no Golden Freddy - Golden Freddy is in fact in the film, he’s the one who goes to the house/kills Aunt Jane/is in the taxi

Following on from the above point, I said last time that I thought the cupcake was the fifth ghost child but I actually think it’s Golden Freddy to be honest - the blonde girl was obviously Chica, the boy with the bunny ears was Bonnie, the ginger boy was Foxy, and then there was the blonde boy and another boy with a top hat on. I originally thought that the blonde boy who wore the brown shirt was Freddy because he seemed like the leader, but now I’m wondering if the boy with the top hat was Freddy and the leader boy was in fact Golden Freddy (given his blonde hair)? I’m interested to hear what everyone else thinks

This is obvious but the doctor foreshadowed the ending because she told Mike that drawings are powerful tools for children to express things and understand things, and that’s exactly how Abby communicated to the gang at the end that Afton was responsible for their deaths

^side note but as an early years practitioner at a nursery/for preschool children, it’s actually true that pictures are used to help children learn things even before they can read, write or talk. I don’t know, it just interested me to be like “oh yeah that’s true!!”

There was not that much focus on Mike’s dad, like he was seen so briefly compared to his mom, which makes me wonder if there’s something to it that might be revealed in a future film. Like maybe his “dad” isn’t his dad or something? Because in the game canon, William is his father, so… I don’t know. I also saw someone else point out that in the training video Mike watched, there was a man working on the animatronics who maybe looked like the actor playing Mike’s dad, so maybe his dad worked there with the animatronics?

The film appears to be set in 2000; I’m 90% sure the security cam of Mike in the careers office showed the date as being in 2000, but if someone else can clarify or confirm the exact date then that would be great. It would make sense though because Garret presumably went missing around the same time as the ghost kids (in the 80s), so the film being set in the present day (meaning Mike would be in his 50s) would make zero sense. Also the mobile phones/computers all seem like they come from the early 2000s

Someone on Twitter pointed out that one of Abby’s drawings on her wall appeared to be a red airplane, which could just be an indication/foreshadowing of her knowledge of Garret’s disappearance (his toy airplane) but also someone else said it could have been 9/11 which….?!?! If this film is set in 2000, then that’s FUCKED

(I think it’s either a random drawing or to do with Garret’s toy tbh but the idea of her having foresight of 9/11 is fucking horrifying)

I’m still not totally sure which animatronic the gang were going to force Abby into, like it’s one with spring locks and at first I thought it might be Circus Baby but it doesn’t really look like her. It looks almost like a marionette or something? And I mean, yeah, it could be that they changed the design a bit but they literally stayed faithful to the designs of all the animatronics in the series so… you know.

Desperate to know if Matthew Lillard is aware of the fact that his DILF status has been multiplied by one hundred after this film like can someone check in on him and see if he’s alright? 💀 the FNAF girlies fans are frankly RABID about Afton

On that note, I wonder if Josh Hutcherson or Matthew Lillard have ever played any FNAF games, like were they fans before being cast or…? I really wish we could have content of them talking about the film or promoting it, but Hollywood refuses to pay their actors fairly so 🤷‍♀️

Listen, I ADORE both Josh and Matthew anyway but in this film I feel like Matthew especially stood out??? Maybe it’s just the character he’s playing but he ATE this role up (so did Josh but still)

I feel like the springlock scene was actually more terrifying upon a second viewing like at my first one I was like “that’s not as bad as I imagined” but this time I was like “holy shit he’s in agony” like his screams were PAINFUL to listen to

Speaking of painful to listen to, Freddy gave this really guttural and pained roar/scream at one point during the ending and it really made my heart hurt, it’s like the child inside of him was reliving the memory of their murder or something??? I can’t describe it but it was such an intense moment

I honest to god feel like I enjoyed it more on a second viewing and I don’t know why??? Maybe it’s just because the other people in my cinema weren’t laughing every five minutes but still.

I now have the urge to rewatch ALL of Markiplier’s playthroughs of ALL the FNAF games so… yep!

Once again begging for people to talk about FNAF because I’m not the most knowledgable on the series but I do enjoy it!

[delopsia]

You know something is wrong when you wake to the sound of him in the bathroom at half past six. A full hour after he's supposed to be out the door and off to work.

The front door is ajar, and his boots lay scattered about the floor as if he's kicked them off in his rush back into the house. His phone still sits on the table, and his truck rumbles outside, the engine warm and ready to take on the day. But the cowboy who drives it isn't there.

You know that for certain because you can see his sock-covered foot through the crack in the bathroom door. He's curled himself around the toilet, sweaty cheek resting on his forearm, half-lidded eyes gazing into the water, unsure of whether his stomach is done churning or not.

"Rhett?" Your voice is nothing but a whisper, too loud in this quiet little room. And you'd worry that he didn't hear you if not for the hesitant lift of his gaze. Distant and unfocused, like he's left a portion of himself elsewhere.

It's a wonder that he's managed to dress himself, and even then, he's only been able to do so much. Has squeezed into those too-tight Wranglers but forgot to pick out a buckle to snap onto his belt, and you're fairly certain the t-shirt clinging to him is the same one he wore to bed.

"'m okay," he croaks, tone so gravelly that you hardly believe it's coming from him at all. But his stomach seems to have a different opinion, because he's lurching toward the toilet in a matter of moments.

The only thing you can do is gather his hair into your hands and hold it back. His skin burns with an invisible wildfire, damp with a thin sheen of sweat, and he feels even warmer when you flatten the back of your palm against his forehead.

And yet, your big, dumb cowboy is reaching for his hat that, at some point or another, wound up in the bathtub and tries to place it on his head. It should be muscle memory, and yet, he places it too far forward, entirely covering his eyes.

Pinching the brim, you tilt it back, peering into those barely-there blues, "You're sick, cowboy."

"No 'm not," there's the tiniest shred of insistence in his tone, the most he can manage. God, how did he even get out to his truck like this?

Your head shakes, "you can't go to work like this."

And despite his slow tipping forward, unable to stop himself from collapsing into your arms, he still seems to think that he's fine. He can still make it to work. This will wear off come sunrise.

But the sun is already peeking over the horizon, painting the sky with hues of yellow, orange, and gold. Far too bright for your gloomy cowboy to look at, covering his eyes when it peeks through the blinds. Still insists that he'll grab his truck keys and head out in a few minutes and doesn't believe that he's already got it running until after you return with them in your hand.

"Whaddaya mean?" He's gotten himself to his feet, but he's long since slouched against the wall. Doesn't seem to have realized that he's doing it, either. "I didn't...I..."

It's the tripping over his own feet that finally draws him back to bed. Snuggling beneath the covers, small trash can next to the bedside table, just in case. His nose wrinkles when you feed him some medicine, damn near turns green when you ask if he wants any crackers or tea.

This is the first time you've seen him genuinely sick; in the past, it's only ever been allergies and the slightest bit of food sickness, but somehow, you already know exactly how he's going to act.

Clingy.

He insists on snuggling on top of you, and when his belly grows too uncomfortable for that position, he's on his side, wedged into the gap below your chin. Sleep comes to him in bits and pieces, cut short by nausea and the scratchiness in the back of his throat.

Come noon, his stomach grumbles for something that he's not entirely sure he can keep down. But you wander into the kitchen to make him a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and soon, that scent draws him out. Still looks a little uneasy, as he rests on the couch, quietly watching you work. Eating isn't exactly the most pleasant experience; his body screams at him to eat, but his stomach isn't so keen on the whole idea.

He lays on the couch with his head in your lap until the nausea subsides, then meekly meets your eye and asks if that offer to make tea still stands.

It does.

And as soon as he's had his fill, you're guiding him into the bath before drowsiness can take hold of him. You're initially trying to stay outside the tub, but one way or another, you wind up in there with him, washing the soap from his hair and massaging those bulky shoulders. He does his best to return the favor, running the cloth over your skin, but he's moving so slowly that he might as well not be doing anything at all.

He frowns when he catches himself leaning in for a kiss. Finds this whole 'spreading germs' thing to be cruel and unusual punishment. Brightens when you fold and kiss him anyway. He was certainly contagious yesterday, and with the way you were all over him, there's no way you haven't caught what he's got.

Watching movies on the couch ends in sleeping against one another, and moving yourselves to bed leaves you wide awake and watching videos on your phones.

Come morning, you wake to the damning sensation of a stuffy nose and a churning stomach. Rhett finds you sometime after you've stumbled into the bathroom, kissing your cheek as he tells you that he's already called off work.

Reheating soup comes in the form of leaning against each other in front of the stove, waiting for it to boil. You finish those movies and fall asleep amidst the next one. Washing each other in the shower, swaying back and forth, uncoordinated and clumsy, like it's your first day on Earth.

You know he's feeling better when he tugs you out the front door for a sunset drive under the guise of getting snacks and clearing your heads. Come morning, you'll feel his stubble scratch your cheek as he leaves a kiss there with a whispered, "I love you."

Rhett doesn't get sick very often, but oh, when he does...

[cecilyv]

New Fic: the chain I forged (9-1-1, buck/tommy)

Happy Holidays, my friends. @liminalmemories21 and I had Tommy get Christmas Caroled just for y'all. Wherein he meets some ghosts (or possibly hallucinates as a result of whatever was in those shots Lucy handed him last night). Either way, he’s too old for this shit.

"I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it." — Jacob Marley, in Charles Dicken's, A Christmas Carol

11.6k | General Audiences

[Read here on Ao3]

He comes awake abruptly, the hair on the back of his arms standing straight up. He lays there, trying to get his breathing back under control, when he hears the chair creak on the other side of the room. Shit. Fuck. Damn. There’s someone here. And not in the fun kind of way, the way he'd gotten used to with Evan — shit, Buck (he still gets that wrong in his head, when he's half asleep, still a little drunk). He'd gotten used to Buck getting up in the middle of the night, and then pausing before he got back into bed to take a sip of water, put on chapstick. Six months shouldn't have been enough to overwrite the pattern of a lifetime of sleeping alone. But— He still reaches for Evan — fuck. Buck. He still reaches for Buck when he wakes up, expects the heat of him next to him in bed, expects his pillow to smell like Buck’s shampoo and aftershave.

This time though, there's a person in his room and it's not Buck; doesn’t sound like him, smell like him. He breathes and smells dirt and cold and rot. He keeps his eyes closed, facing the ceiling, trying to remember what he might have on hand to defend himself with. Tries to figure out how this person got into his house without setting off the alarms. What he's here to steal.

"I know you're awake," whoever it is says, voice low and raspy like he doesn’t use it much. There's a rustle of fabric as the guy shifts position. "I ain't here to hurt you. You can go on and sit up, open your eyes."

He pushes himself up warily, flicks on the light and blinks in the sudden brightness. Blinks again. A burglar in a Halloween costume was not on his list of possible scenarios. And why, he wonders, if you're going to dress up to break into people's houses, wouldn't you wear a mask?

He’s wearing a cowboy hat, and a vest, but what Tommy can’t look away from (and doesn’t want to look at at all, honestly) is his skin so tight across his face it’s translucent ( like butter scraped over too much bread, a voice in his mind echoes). And the guy has— He squints, and then shakes his head. Looks back. Those look a lot like the inflamed boils Evan — Buck — had had. This seems very specific for a Halloween costume robbery. He would have expected more dead president masks.

"Uh. You're welcome to take whatever you want. I'm not going to fight you on it." It's just stuff.

The guy — the cowboy? — crosses his arms and looks annoyed. "Ain't here for your stuff."

Tommy glances at his bedside table like that's going to reveal that he'd gone to bed with a kitchen knife, or a hammer, or something useful. There's a glass of water and a book he's been saying he's going to read for going on a year now. "Okay. So, why are you here?" Keep him talking, he thinks.

The guy rolls his eyes. "Ain't here to kill you either. Didn't I just say I weren't here to hurt you? Keep up."

He's not sober enough for this. "Okay. I give. Why are you here?"

The guy relaxes, like he's been waiting for this cue. "I'm here to show you what has been, what is, and what is yet to come." And Tommy thinks, okay, Galadriel.

Tommy gives him a blank look, and the guy elaborates. "I owe a debt." He stops, like that’s all the explanation he thinks Tommy should need.

Tommy wracks his brain, but, "I think I would remember meeting you. Was it on a call?"

"Didn't say it was to you.” Pauses and says reflectively, “I wasn't always a good man, but I always paid my debts, and no one can say different." There's another pause and then, “Unless it was to a bank."

Okay, sure. This seems … nope, he’s got nothing. This seems like nothing he can possibly put a name to. This is clearly what he gets for letting Lucy talk him into going out after their last shift, and then letting her buy them shots. The wages of sin. Or something. "Are you seriously telling me you’re here as the Ghost of Christmas Past? Because you owe a life debt? To someone? Who is not me?"

The Ghost — sure, why not — nods, like he's glad Tommy is finally catching up.

He looks closer at the guy, really looks and — leather vest, chaps, boots, boils. Just fuck his life. "You're Billy Boils, aren’t you?"

Billy makes a face, like he tasted something nasty. "William James McCurdy. At your service.”

[wilhelminyard]

y'all seemed to like this so here are more moments but the christmas edition :

• andrew and neil, for the longest time, never decorate their house for christmas because honestly who gives a shit? neither of them is big on holidays and decorating the whole house only to take everything down in a few weeks seems more of a hassle than anything else. so they just don't. until one year, it's their turn to host the annual christmas dinner with the rest of the foxes and nicky and allison almost faint when they find out andrew and neil didn't even get a tree. they both turn up to the house with enough decoration to make it look like santa's personal workshop. andrew flat out refuses to help but allison manages to convince neil to give her a hand with the christmas lights on the roof because she needs someone there to make sure she doesn't die and she doesn't trust nicky. nicky feigns offense but he'd rather not be out in the cold anyway so neil goes. when it's done, allison drags everyone outside to watch when they turn on the lights and when she does andrew can see neil's eyes lighting up with childlike wonder. then suddenly neil is more involved. he puts a wreath on the front door, ornaments on the tree and more lights anywhere he can. andrew mumbles something about the electric bill but neil seems so fascinated by this stupid tree in their living room that the next year, around christmas time, andrew puts stupid tiny christmas hats on the cats and even more stupid stockings with their goddamn initials and jersey numbers on them near the fireplace. then he drags aaron with him to buy a tree, threatens to cut his tongue off if he says anything and almost dies on the spot when neil comes home and looks at him with his oh-so-blue eyes filled with that same childlike wonder he had the year before and andrew vows to turn his house into a goddamn christmas tree forest if he has to as long as he can see that look in neil's eyes every year for the rest of his life.

• it turns out that andrew is incredibly good at giving presents. but he'll never admit it to anyone, ever. let alone the foxes. only neil is aware of this, because he never knows what to give people and has to ask andrew for help. so matt never found out that when neil was his secret santa that one year, the incredibly thoughtful gift he got was actually andrew's idea. neil is the one who has to be sujected to matt's overwhelming affection and tight hugs, meanwhile andrew's secret and his 'annoyed by the entire idea of christmas and gift giving' reputation is probably safe considering he bought aaron a "medical terminology for dummies" book. a win-win situation if you ask him.

• nicky gives them matching ugly christmas sweaters "with the coats and the armbands I figured that since you guys love to match so much we might as well make it fun for once". neil wears his immediately, unbothered, but andrew refuses to put this bright colorful piece of garbage on his body. not even his corpse would allow it, he'd come back from the dead and punch nicky in the face if he got anywhere near him with this atrocity. then neil says something about how andrew claims to be the one with the fashion sense out of them both but nowadays neil goes shopping with allison while andrew still wears the exact same black shirts he wore back in college and he finishes with "but you know I get it, it's hard to compete with your black-on-black aesthetic". andrew puts the sweater on just to spite him. kevin takes a picture and andrew strongly considers murder.

• for obvious reasons, it turns out neil has never watched a christmas movie when he was younger. matt believes this is blasphemy. he sits neil down for a movie marathon. matt can only stare in disbelief when neil ends up saying stuff like "you know what marvin and harry are actually pretty lucky because if it had been me instead of kevin mccallister I would have just shot them both" and "if you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is NOT all around but you know what is? the mafia." but other than that it was a pretty successful afternoon in matt's opinion.

• dan ropes them into a gingerbread house-building competition one year. andrew usually makes it his personal mission to avoid any and all festive activities but he agrees to participate in this one mainly because he wants to beat aaron. aaron is frustrated when he realizes that andrew's house is, in fact, better than his. aaron's keep falling apart for some reason. but he is the doctor out of the two of them, he is supposed to be the one with the steady hands so how the hell is he losing to an exy goalie whose hands are mainly used to punch people in the face when the sport gets too rough? what he doesn't realize is that when he looks away every time neil is trying to rile him up by just being his usual annoying self, andrew eats the foundations of his house. work smarter not harder.

[ivonhart]

love and war | wrecker x fem twi’lek!reader

— chapter one

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cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @dreamswithghosts

summary: The love you shared was one of wide smiles and flushed cheeks. The love that made your heart grow twofold to the point it ached. The love that made one believe in soulmates. But with this love came war. War to survive in such a harsh world. War to ensure that the light of love would not be snuffed out by the growing darkness throughout the galaxy. War to simply…find peace.

a/n: !! chapter warnings !! brief mention of Twi'lek enslavement and scars from slave whips - really nothing major / Summaries are so hard I'm so sorry. Straight up pulled that outta my butt while I listened to Flawed Mangoes. But anyway, I just love love and I love Wrecker so much so here we are! Also, I took some creative libarties and made our Twi'lek reader's lekkus to be considerable longer than presented in the shows/movies because I said so. If that nasty ass Bib Fortuna can have them so can my girl!! Also also, apparently the head-tails that Twi'leks have are kinda like living parts or something. Like I read that they can pick things up and move to communicate like sign language. So that's pretty cool. As well as a backstory behind Wrecker's blind eye and scars, plus a little headcanon about slight hearing loss on his part.

“Oh, I’m so excited to see what Phee has brought back!” Lyana said with bright eyes as the three of you made your way to the top of the island. You eyed her father with a small smile before responding. “As am I.” A thoughtful hum passed by your lips as you pulled one of your lekkus over your shoulder, messing with the flower vines you decorated your head-tails with. “I wonder if she picked up any new seeds for me? The gardens could use some new friends.”

You were as close of a friend to Phee as she let you be after she freed you from slavers whilst on a mission to “liberate” an ancient Ryloth artifact the slavers wished to part with. As the three of you reached the summit and watched the ship come into view, you noted the four individuals that stood in front of her.

One being a young girl with short, blonde hair. Despite the fact they ranged from shape and size, they all sported the same colored armor. “After all, I am a liberator–” Shep was quick to announce their presence by finishing her sentence. “Liberator of ancient wonders.” Clone Force 99’s attention turned towards the new voice and that was when Wrecker saw you.

A Twi’lek dressed in a long, airy dress that blew in the light ocean breeze, paired with a slightly dirty apron that held gardening tools looked at his brother from underneath her large floppy hat that was decorated with flowers along the top. Even though you wore a hat, he could still take in your lekkus that dropped down your back and swayed with each breath you took.

As you got closer, he saw that your head-tails were wrapped in small vines that sprouted a few tiny flowers along the larger parts of the vines. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. His eyes never left your figure as you bounced over to Phee with a wide smile. “PHEEEEEEEE!” The woman in question opened her arms with a small smile as she braced for impact.

Everything about you drew Wrecker’s attention and he felt his heart speed up as you passed him to get to her. Your scent was one of dirt and flora. It was intoxicating. “Easy now.” Phee started with a laugh. “Those tools you got might poke my kidney out if you hug me any tighter.” And your laugh. Wrecker had to force his legs to stay under him as the sound flowed through his ears like the sweetest melody. He was so enamored with you that he didn’t see the way Hunter eyed him. The speed of his heart was like a hammer inside Hunter’s ears from how fast his heart was beating.

“About time you showed your face around here.” Shep said with a laugh after you pulled away, allowing both him and Lyana to embrace her. “What’d you bring this time?” As Phee knelt down to show Layana, you took the time to look at those she brought along. From a closer distance it was clear that they were clones, but they weren’t like the ones you remembered from the war.

They had similar faces, but they had slightly different aspects about each and every one of them. The one next to the little girl sported a skull tattoo that took half his face along with a notable, red bandanna that held his long hair back a tad. The next one seemed to hide behind his data pad, but you could still see that his goggled-eyes were stuck on Phee as she spoke about the artifact. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your lips.

Then your attention moved to the last clone and he was…breathtaking. He was as large as a house with broad shoulders and strong arms, but his eyes held almost a shyness from under your gaze. His brown and white eye shifted side to side every few seconds as you kept your full attention on him.

You were so focused on memorizing the trail of scars along his eye that you didn’t realize Phee had been speaking to you until she waved her hand in front of her face. “Seems Flower here likes what she sees, huh?” Heat burned your cheeks as you snapped your eyes away from the man with an open mouth. You were about to rebuttal the woman, but she simply turned on her heel and began introducing everyone.

“This is Shep Hazard, Mayor of Pabu, his daughter, Lyana…” She then said your name whilst pointing towards you. “Shep, Lyana, Flower, meet Omega, Hunter, Wrecker and Tech.” Wrecker…that was his name. You thought the name was quite fitting for a man of his size. Even his hand seemed to engulf Shep’s as he gave him a firm handshake with joy.

You shadowed Lyana as she walked closer to Omega while she spoke. “Phee’s never brought any friends here before.” “Never?” You noted the accent the young girl had as she spoke. “Not even Cid?” Phee moved closer to you and hung her elbow on your shoulder while she answered the girl. “Nope.”

“So why bring us?” Hunter’s deep voice was a stark difference from Omega. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” You smiled brightly before you poked her in the side. “She must really like you guys.” Phee stepped away from you with a playful hiss whilst waving her hand at you. “All right, Flower. That’s enough out of you. You want to see what I got you don’t ya?” Wrecker watched as your eyes lit up while you clasped your hands together under your chin.

“A gift? For me?” With quick, small shuffles you closed the gap between you and the woman with a wide smile as she pulled a small pouch from her bag. “Managed to snag you some Bluebell Squish seeds.” You squeal in excitement as you quickly open the pouch to see inside. “The gardens will love them! They have been longing for some new friends.”

“Scientifically speaking, flora of any kind cannot “long” for friends. They do not have the emotional intelligence for such things. In fact, they have no intelligence whatsoever.” You turned to see the voice belong to the one named Tech. His finger was up in the air as he spoke the words as if they were law.

Wrecker nudged his brother in the side to get him to apologize, but your sweet laugh filled the air once more. “Well you may be right, but they still do have emotional intelligence…just not in the same way we do.” You leaned closer to Tech with a smile. “Plants may lack a central nervous system, but they are still able to process information from the world around them and respond to them. And that, to me, is all I need to know to determine that they do, in fact, have feelings.” You stepped back with a joyful sigh before finishing.

“We are all children of the Force, and our energies recognize one another no matter what form we may take and respond to one another.” The Batch watched with wide eyes as Tech lifted his finger once more but was unable to formulate a reply. He simply cleared his throat and moved his hand to adjust his glasses. “I suppose it would be a waste of my time to discuss this further, seeing that you believe in such things, whilst I am a man of fact and logic.” Despite the fact that Tech’s words could be viewed in a negative light, you still smiled at him.

You both were right in your own ways and you had no right to diminish his outlook just because you believed another. And you sensed that he felt the same…but said it in a more clean-cut way.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll join us for dinner.” And with that the group began their way into lower Pabu. Omega and Lyana ran ahead whilst Shep spoke with Hunter and Tech following not far behind.

You had gradually made your way to the back of the group as many members of the community stopped to speak to you. From a quick “hello” to a brief conversation about a plant they had purchased from you. You bid farewell to a fellow Twi’lek when Wrecker spoke to you. “Do you know everyone here?” Oh how his voice made your stomach flip from the rasp it held.

A smile graced your lips as you fell in step with the man whilst responding. “We all know one another. We are all family to one another.” The two of you fell silent for a beat before both speaking at the same time. “So your group–” “So, how do you know Phee?” Both of you looked at one another before falling into a fit of giggles and laughs. While yours was light, his was hearty. You had to take hold of the tips of your head-tails due to the fact they seemed to keep reaching out for him.

Wrecker cleared his throat. “L-Ladies first.” His stutter brought heat to your cheeks once more as you moved your eyes back ahead of you. “I was just curious about you and your group. From what I know about the war, the clones were soldiers. So, your group having a child intrigued me.” You gazed towards the blonde girl as she jumped around with Lyana. “Is she the daughter of one of you?”

You turned your attention back to the large man and saw him shaking his head. “No, she’s our big sister.” You knew of the clones' accelerated growth so you put the pieces together that she must have been different. Wrecker tilted his head slightly. “Though…she is more like a daughter to Hunter.” A small laugh passed his lips. “It’s a lil’ odd.”

You softly shook your head. “Relationships between one another are complex things. As long as she is loved and cared for.” Wrecker looked down at you with sudden serious eyes. “We would lay down our lives for her.” You gave a stern nod. “Good. She deserves nothing less.”

The man was about to open his mouth once more, but Shep suddenly spoke your name. “This is her home and shop.” You looked towards him to see that the group was now in front of your home. “She nurtures the most beautiful plants in the entire galaxy. None are able to do what she does.”

Wrecker watched as you walked over to him while waving your hands in bashfulness. “Oh Shep, you act as though it was magic.” With a polite smile you slipped past Hunter and moved towards your door. “But, since I am here I suppose it’s time to say goodbye for now.” “Wait, you’re not coming to dinner with us?” Wrecker’s question shot through the air even before you had finished your sentence, earning everyone’s eyes on him.

Hunter could hear the way both hearts were beating so fast he feared he would get a headache. You dropped your gaze with a small laugh while taking a lekku in your hands. “I’m sure you all must have matters to discuss and I do not wish to intrude.” Shep shook his head with a gentle laugh before getting your attention. “You would never intrude. We all assumed you would be joining us; you missed Phee the most and I’m sure you’d love to catch up as well as get to know our guests more.” That’s when heat exploded along your cheeks once more.

You didn’t have to see Shep’s face to know he was smiling about a certain member of their team you quickly grew enamored with. With a small laugh you began walking backwards. “Well, in that case–” A gasp shot from your mouth as your hip hit one of the many plant pots you had scattered around your front porch.

Wrecker felt his hands twitch to reach out and steady you as he watched you regain your balance with an awkward cough. “Um…yeah, I’m–I’ll go freshen up then.” You were quick to shut your front door before letting a heavy sigh out from the embarrassment that spread throughout your body. Unaware of the eyes that lingered on your front door for longer than needed before eventually joining his brothers.

-

It was near sunset when Wrecker saw you again and when he did, the man launched to his feet as he took you in. The chair he sat on almost tumbled over from his speed in which he stood. There you were, the woman that already seemed to take over his mind, glowing underneath the light of Pabu’s setting sun.

Eyes staring straight at him. You were dressed in a loose fitting dress that draped over your body with your head-tails resting down your chest after you tied them together in the front with a ribbon. The tips of your tails barely sweeping across your belly button with the light breeze. 

Because of the lack of vines he was able to see the designs that spread across for lekkus; the faintest of swirls intertwined with your skin in a shade barely lighter than your skin color. His sudden movement didn’t go unnoticed and they all looked to where he was staring…only to see you.

Omega’s eyes widened as she was quick to speak. “YOU LOOK SO PRETTY!” Her excited voice snapped you from his gaze and you quickly looked down to where she was. A smile graced your lips once more as you moved closer. “Thank you very much, Omega.” Your eyes moved to look at everyone at the table. “I apologize for being so late. I still had some chores to finish up and then it took me some time to find a dress that didn’t have that many dirt stains on it.”

Everyone chuckled at your joke. “Uh, I th-I think you look amazingly…uh beautiful.” Wrecker’s words tumbled out faster than his brain could process which caused him to stumble over the words. And once more…your cheeks grew hot.  Omega grabbed your hand and led you to a, conveniently, vacant seat right next to Wrecker.

The dinner went well and as everyone began to scatter to their own devices, Wrecker made his way to where you stood. You had seen Omega and Lyana off towards the boat before settling in against the railing of the balcony just moments ago.

Because the dress you wore had an open back, the men were able to see what was marked there as you got comfortable. Jagged burns littered your colored skin and they knew immediately where they came from. A slaver’s whip. The long weapon coursing with electricity was something none could forget after being struck by one.

Although you just met Wrecker that day, you could tell that he was being unusually quiet as he approached and you knew why. “It’s okay. You can ask about them.” You grew to accept the scars that marked your body and felt no reason to cover it up. “You were a slave?” Wrecker couldn’t help but wince at the phrasing he used to ask the question, but you didn’t seem to be angry.

Your eyes still watched the boat with Omega and Lyana on it leave the dock as you let out a simple ‘mhmm’. You lekkus twirling the flowers that grew on the balcony as you did. “It’s quite common for the women of my species to be taken so it was really only a matter of time.” Wrecker’s heart grew heavy from your words. “Phee was actually the one who saved me.” You looked past Wrecker to where Phee was talking with Tech and a small smile formed. “She saved me in every possible way.”

“I’ll have to thank her then.” Your eyes moved to his brown and white one with slight confusion. “If she didn’t save you I may have never met you.” Heat exploded across your cheeks and you dropped your head with a small laugh. Your heart was pounding just as hard as his. “You sure do know how to make a lady blush.” The once heavy atmosphere grew light as Wrecker threw his head back in laughter.

Your giggles were not far behind. “What about your scars?” You asked once your laughter died down. Wrecker turned his large body towards you so you could get a better view at the side of his face that was littered with a web of scars around his ear and head. Being so close, you were even able to see that small parts of the ear were missing.

“It was during one of my early demolition exercises on Kamino. Normally, the bombs they had me working with were duds but one must’ve slipped through the cracks and next thing I know I was in the medical wing with only one good eye and ear.” So he was blind in that eye and the reason he speaks so loud is because he most likely lost hearing on that ear.

Another hum passed your lips as you slowly raised your hand to the side of his face. “May I?” Wrecker nodded and your fingers moved across his skin he gasped. The reaction caused you to jump back. “I’m so sorry!” Your eyes were wide with worry as you intertwined your claps hands with your lekku tips.

The man frantically shook his head. “M’bad.” You watched red flush his cheeks as his eyes shifted around. “It’s just…no one’s touched them before. People find them too scary to look at.” That’s when his eyes dropped to the floor and you watched as his whole self seemed to deflate. “People find me scary to look at.” Anger bubbled within you at his confession.

How could anyone think this man was scary? You could tell he was nothing more than a gentle giant. “Well, I don’t find you scary.” With a small step forward you brushed your fingers against his larger ones. “In fact…” Your voice dropped to almost a whisper as if the wind would carry the sound throughout all of Pabu. “I think you are quite handsome.”

His wide eyes snapped towards you and you had to hold back the giggles that threatened to escape. A few seconds passed before a smile split across his face. “Seems like I’m not the only one that can make someone blush.” Your heart grew full as you smiled up towards him. Unfortunately, the moment was lost when the ground started to shake. Wrecker grabbed hold of you with ease as you lost your footing and with wide eyes you looked up at him. Something was coming.

[live-laugh-legolas]

Allô!

For your Fellowship requests thingy, may I, pretty please, ask you to consider, the Fellowship's favourite individual clothing items? Sort of like what colour it is, and like whether it's their favourite because it's dramatic af or 'cuz it's really comfy or very sentimental or something? I hope this makes sense! 🙃

Btw, your headcanons are the best things ever, I love when I find a new post of yours on my dash! Makes me smile every time! 😊💙

Thank you so much! You’re too sweet :)

Their favorite article of clothing

Aragorn:

-I mean my first thought was obviously Arwen’s necklace but that feels like a cheat answer

-He definitely isn’t someone to easily get attached to material objects

-Life as a ranger doesn’t really allow for that

-However I could see him maybe being a bit attached to an old cloak

-He has newer ones but he keeps returning to the “old reliable” that isn’t very reliable because it is only patches at this point

-Maybe it was a gift from his Mother

-It is a bit short on him as well (let’s not forget he is canonically 6’6”)

-So now it’s more of a “blankie” than something he actually wears

Legolas:

-He is very particular about his shoes

-They have to be light and so he can feel the ground through them

-More like socks with a thin sole and maybe some ankle support if he’s feeling fruity

-He won’t wear anything that is constricting

-In general he is picky about how his clothes feel

-Some materials just give him the ick

-Once as a kid his father made him wear a formal outfit that was too itchy and he straight up stripped in front of guests; and he doesn’t regret it, he would do it again

-He doesn’t care much how his clothes look though; he bases his choice on feel and mobility

-He’s so pretty he could literally wear garbage and still look stunning

-In general he prefers his clothes to be simple and practical

Gimli:

-Armor

-Specifically his shoulder pads

-You might think they have some sort of sentimental value to them

-But really he just likes how they look

-They broaden his already broad shoulders which makes him feel very attractive

-Probably has some jewelry that was gifted to him that he is very proud of

Boromir:

-He absolutely has a silk robe at home

-I imagine it being a pale blue

-I would say silk pjs but he gets too hot while sleeping to wear them

-So a robe is perfect

-Especially after a bath; silk robe and comfy slippers

-Has worn it out and given a few innocent bystanders a bit of an eyeful

-Faramir often has to tell him to get dressed; he’s creating a poor image for himself and he scared a maid

Frodo:

-This hobbit has like 3 outfits he wears

-Not that he doesn’t have other clothes

-He has a whole dresser full; but he just wears the same thing basically everyday

-And the variations he does are just in color; he bought the same thing in every color

-He doesn’t have to think about what he is going to wear; he already knows; he wore it yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that

-Has a handmade scarf from Bilbo trying to teach him to knit

-Does Bilbo knit? Not really, but he gets the gist of it

Sam:

-He has one really nice vest he got as a hand me down from his old gaffar

-And he only wears it for really special occasions

-Very careful with it; nothing will spill on it

-Takes it off immediately when he gets home so he is wearing it for as little time as possible so it doesn’t get worn out (and so he doesn’t feel like he needs to wash it)

-Washing it could ruin it and it wouldn’t smell right

-And that’s a risk he won’t take

Merry:

-I could totally see Merry being a hat guy

-Not like normal caps or anything

-But if anyone has seen Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium there is a boy in the film who collects unique hats

-He doesn’t wear them all but he is very proud of his collection

-He has a themed hat for every occasion

-Very fond of his flowery sunhat; it’s practical and cute

Pippin:

-Ok, hear me out

-He is very serious about his underwear

-Definitely has a “lucky pair”

-Don’t knock it; everyone has a favorite pair

-He claims it “holds everything like a nice hug”

-Not shy about it either; will go into specifics about why a pair is super horrible

-“There is a seam that goes right on up there. And it’s awful! I can’t be going all day fishing around my-“ “alright we get it Pip”

Gandalf:

-I’m pretty sure this man has one set of clothes and they are very shabby

-Like I’m sorry but his robes definitely have a strong scent; not necessarily bad, but certainly earthy and like an attic

-How they have lasted so long no one knows; probably some magic or something

-He does have a pair of gloves Bilbo made as a gift that he treasures

-Are they lopsided? Yes

-Do they have some holes from missing a stitch? Also yes

-Does he care? Absolutely not

———————————————————————

I lost my favorite sweatshirt while on vacation recently and I definitely had a mental breakdown… I still grieve for it months later

[demelzathemer]

My Heart Is a Haunted House

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘗𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 + 𝘗𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘛

@dbdpromptober Day 6 (words: 1717)

In this episode of the Corpse Bride AU, featuring: Charles' uncanny ability to compartmentalize the horrors, Jenny being a single father

First Previous Next

Charles groaned, screwing his eyes shut tighter, trying to will the dizziness to die down. He felt a dull ache where he’d fallen onto the hard ground and moved his arms with difficulty, blindly grasping around him for something solid.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t anticipate such a harsh landing,” he heard a kind voice say, somewhere close to him.

When he cracked his eyes open, he saw a hand outstretched towards him. It had the most pristine white glove followed by a sleeve of a fancy pressed shirt and jacket. Charles’ muddy brain decided to zero in to the fact that the cufflink was missing, grabbing the hand without much thought.

He was pulled up and when he swayed, still wobbly on his feet, another hand came to support him on his upper arm. Charles felt something was weird and turned to stare.

The hand against his black coat was as stark white as the suit sleeve, bare tapered knuckles of a skeleton.

Charles snapped his head up. The corpse groom stood in front of him, peering at his face with a worried frown between his brows.

He yanked his hands back like he’d been burned when Charles flinched, staggering backwards. He saw hurt flash across that handsome face, but he was too disoriented to process it.

The ghoul bent down and picked up the fallen lantern with his skeleton hand.

“I’m-” he started, his voice strained.

“Edwiiiin-!” A sing-song squeal of delight interrupted him when a girl with long white hair jumped from behind a stone wall to skip towards them. Her bloodless skin matched her hair and kimono, giving her a ghostly appearance.

“We heard everything! Congrats, you two!” She beamed. The arms she threw around both of their necks were solid, pulling Charles from out of his head.

This was really happening.

From the vice-grip of her hug, Charles lifted his head to look around. They were on a cobblestone street, enclosed with walls, narrow alleys leading into dark shadows. He couldn’t see the moon above them, as if the sky was more like a low-hanging ceiling, trapping them underground.

“Come, come!” She hopped away like a bird, pulling at their sleeves. “Everyone wants to meet you!”

Charles let himself be pulled, but Edwin dragged his feet. Before they turned the corner, he turned to Charles, speaking fast in his polite manner.

“It must be quite sudden, I’m sorry. Everyone can be a bit… much, at first, but I assure you, they only have good intentions.”

Charles nodded his head slowly, still dazed. Music and lively sounds of a crowd could be heard from the other side of the wall. It had been a long time since he’d heard that electrifying buzz of a good party. Not once after leaving London.

Gazing down at Edwin’s skeleton hand holding the lantern and the ghost girl on his side, he came to a realization.

This was a dream. The most vivid and wonderful dream, the strangest dream he’d ever had. So whatever happened, he was going to have a good time, wasn’t he?

Charles grinned.

“Don’t worry about it, mate. I’m aces.”

Edwin seemed reluctant still, so Charles grabbed his hand. Even through the silk glove he could tell how cold his fingers were. They rounded the corner led by the ghost girl and Charles saw what Edwin had meant by “everyone.”

All the people gathered -and there was quite a crowd- were dead. There were those with clammy, gray skin, and those with parts of their bodies decayed. Some of their clothes were torn rags, some wore old-fashioned wigs and funeral attire, and then there were those whose flesh has long since fallen off their bones, leaving them as living skeletons.

A roar of cheers welcomed Charles and Edwin, joyful hooting and hollering, waving hats and raised glasses.

“Toast to the newlyweds!”

The people rushed forward to shake Charles’ hand and pat his shoulder, many pointed digits poking at him.

“Edwin, dearie, you’ve brought a live one!” One grandma exclaimed when she squeezed Charles’ arm.

“Fresh meat!” Squealed a skeleton kid where he clung to Charles’ leg, getting hoisted up with him when dozens of hands grabbed him.

His hold from Edwin’s hand was broken but when Charles caught a glimpse of him between the crowd, he was smiling.

The band played a wacky jazz version of the wedding march when Charles was thrown in the air with enthusiastic huzzah’s.

“To the loverboy!”

The clinking glasses spilled bright green liquid on the floor and was poured through empty rib cages. Charles barely missed hitting a chandelier with live candles.

“What are we celebrating?” He asked, out of breath from the jostling.

“Your proposal of course, you silly!” Somebody answered from the crowd.

“To our corpse groom!”

Over in the air he saw that the cramped space was a pub, with wooden counters and well-worn seats, the corners rounded and smooth from years of serving patrons.

“I proposed?”

The room was spinning in Charles’ eyes, colors and movement blurring together. The chandelier above him had mounds of melted wax covering it and dripping down. Every flame burned a different hue, casting moving shadows on the walls.

“Yes! It was so romantic! I hope someone would propose to me like that!”

Charles was tossed in the air for the third time.

“To their love everlasting!”

The many skeleton hands and bones arranged themselves into descending stairs. When the crowd parted, he was presented with Edwin in a spotlight. One look at the shy smile playing on his broken lips got Charles’ heart doing cartwheels.

You BET I proposed!!

The band played a groovy fanfare and Charles didn’t think he’d ever grinned as hard as when he stepped down towards Edwin. He didn’t feel his feet touching the ground at all, walking on air with joy when his hands met Edwin’s and he pulled him into dance.

Charles caught him when he stumbled, stiff as a board, and twirled him around. He heard the ghost girl giggle behind them, a clear and delighted sound, and Edwin caught Charles’ forearms, stopping him to give him a reprimanding look.

Breathing was light and laughter was easy when joy bubbled up in Charles’ chest, endeared by that stern lift of one eyebrow. The skeleton band played their cooky tunes, infectious enough to have everyone dance, and soon Edwin was swept along by Charles, relaxing with their hands tightly entwined.

Charles confirmed that time didn’t exist in dreams, because that felt like hours and too little at the same time. After one more song after saying two times it was the last song he was going to dance to, Edwin finally pulled Charles out of the party to have a break.

They slumped on the barstools on the far end of the counter, Charles’ shoulders shaking when he buried his head into his arms on the table and giggled.

“You are killing me, Charles Rowland. And that would be an incredible feat, since I am evidently already dead,” Edwin groaned, making Charles laugh even harder.

He stole a glance at him over his arms; Edwin was fussing over his perfect hair and crooked bowtie, gathering his composure. Charles bit his lip to muffle another giggle bubbling up. He reached out his hand to try to sneakily mess his hair up, but Edwin snatched his fingers into his palm and put them back on the table.

“So, what can I get you boys?” The bartender asked sharply, making Charles jump up and fix his posture.

She had black hair in a well-kept updo, and her skin was so white and translucent the dark shadow of her skull could be seen underneath. The black ink on the tattoo around her throat absorbed light, making her look almost decapitated.

“Whatever he’s having,” Charles shrugged.

“Good. We only serve one thing,” the bartender said in a flat tone and looked him dead in the eye.

Charles flinched when she slammed down a big cleaver into the counter where it stayed up, quivering. With her now free hands she poured two glasses of the same lurid green liquid and pushed them over.

“Are you a butcher or a bartender..?” Charles asked, accepting the glass. Her white button up and black apron didn’t clue him in either way.

“Newsflash, fresh meat. We’re dead. We can be whatever we fucking want. Ain’t no rules like upstairs, down here. Is that clear?” She cocked her head and gave him a mocking smile.

“He wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, Jenny,” Edwin cut in. “Jenny, this is Charles. Charles, Jenny.”

Charles didn’t dare stick out his hand for a shake when that cleaver was still too close. He opted for one of his winning smiles.

“Happy to meet you-,” he began, when Jenny grabbed the handle of the knife.

“Listen here, kid. I’m gonna say this exactly once. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. But if you do anything to make Edwin sad, then you and I are gonna have a problem.”

Jenny squinted her eyes coldly towards Charles. In full view of him, she yanked the cleaver from the wood and moved her finger across the sharp edge, the shiny metal glinting in the lights menacingly.

“If you plan on hurting him, you should get the fuck out before I can hurt you.”

“Jenny, I can assure you that is completely unnecessary,” Edwin sighed. “Firstly, I’m not a kid. And secondly, I know Charles.”

Charles caught the look in his eyes when he glanced at him, and it set out a warm wave flushing him from head to toes. Edwin looked at him with such unbearable fondness it was impossible to receive or comprehend. Charles felt like there was a puzzle piece missing, something that would make him understand. How could Edwin hold such open adoration for him, when he knew nothing about Edwin?

Well, that should’ve hit him a lot earlier. Charles spun around to stare at Edwin again, to study him with new intensity. The fancy white suit. The blood that covered half of it.

“What happened to you?” He blurted out.

Edwin’s eyes darkened and he turned his head away. It seemed like he’d anticipated the question for some time now.

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in: May 20, 2024 🎀

omg it'd almost the end of May, what the heck? I'm so excited, I leave to Colorado for my 8 weeks of work very soon and I can't wait! it's going to be such a cool experience being in a new place for a while!

Monday was a good day. My dad and my boyfriend both think I overdid it on the physical exertion a bit, and I agree. I took a long walk, outside, in 95 degree heat, with no sunscreen. Which is why they said I overdid it because my chest and shoulders are sooooo sunburnt. But Monday was amazing! Started off strong, ended not as strong but still good!

🩷 What I Accomplished:

~13k+ steps for the day

took an hour and a half long walk outside(it was amazing, I loved it, I stayed hydrated ans soaked up all the sunlight and fresh air)

completed a 30 min beginner pilates workout from Move with Nicole

did my morning journaling and gratitude

wrote down a positive quote of the day and read through my journal where I wrote down some things that I want to read daily

read and "annotated" 14 pages of Atomic Habits

took a 20 minute power nap

worked a ~6.5 hour shift

drank at least ~80oz of water (that's pretty good given I used to drink like 20oz a day and wonder why I never felt good)

took my two medications + vitamin D supplement

took a cool shower and washed my hair at the end of the day

went to sleep early!

💞 Good Things That Happened

my friend and a supervisor im close with complimented my appearance in a way that gave me a confidence/motivational boost

my other friend and I decided we're probably getting our nails done together next week

that same friend ^ and I are going to go shopping next week as well

my work is going to schedule me where I can still go to brunch with my dad on Friday!

my man starts his first day of work on Tuesday (I'm so excited for him! It's gonna suck not being able to text him all day, but I'm so proud of him for getting this job and all the progress he's made)

got complimented on how efficient I was at work by the night shift supervisor

ate goods that made me happy without feeling guilty or anxiety about it

💔 What Could've Gone Better

I over ate a bit at night after work and felt kind of bloated and sick when I went to bed. it's okay tho, things happen, and Tuesday is a new day <3

super sunburnt!!!! my chest and shoulders are bright, bright red! and I'm a naturally pretty tan person, so seeing my skin that red, yep, I'm definitely super burnt! need to wear sunscreen and protective clothes when I take a shorter walk on tuesday

I definitely overdid it on that walk. got too overzealous and pushed myself a lot. my legs were hurting so bad by the end of the day and that's not good. as much as I enjoyed the walk, I need to be so much more kinder to and thoughtful of my body. it does a lot for me, and I need to treat it right <3

💗 Stuff For Tuesday

take a shorter walk outside in the morning

read more of Atomic Habits (and annotate)

begin studying Spanish some more (fell off the habit but I have a lesson next Tuesday the 28th, so I need to be prepared!)

do some gentle morning and night skincare (my face is a little red from yesterday but not too bad since I wore a hat during my walk)

do my morning beginner pilates and gratitude journaling (I've already done these as of right now, but I struggled with the so-called "beginner" pilates video from IsaWelly. practice makes perfect, tho so I've got to keep consistent!)

book nail appointments with my friend for next week (hopefully the nail tech/nail salon I go to has availability for her and I to go together! I also need to pick the design i want!)

budget for this upcoming paycheck and what I need to save vs what I'm going to spend (and need to buy)

work a ~5 hour shift

talk to my man over video call at the end of the day to see how work/training went for him (it's his first day of work, but it's a hands on training kind of day for him as well)

💕 Song of The Day: aespa - Supernova

what an absolutely amazing song omg. aespa literally never misses with their music. I almost put Spicy, but I've been obsessed with Supernove since it dropped. I love it so much <3

That's all for Monday, like I said, it was a beautiful start to the week for me! And here's to Tuesday being a good day as well <3 I hope everyone here has a wonderful beginning of their week!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[tiredlilguy]

hiiiiiii :)

I hope you’re doing well, and don’t have too much stress right now <3

Do you know those little, heart-shaped charms for necklaces, where you can put a photo inside? Could I please request (whatever format you’re comfortable with) getting one of those, with Verlaine? I’m not sure if you write for multiple characters, but if you do, could I add pianomann or Lippmann? Anyway, take your time

bye!

a/n: hello! i apologize that this took so long ;;w;; as you can see, i'm on hiatus, as well as dealing with other stuff from college- thank you so much for ur patience! i hope you enjoy! :DDD (also this request is fucking adorable- i had to do it first AS;DLKFJ;ALSDKFJ)

pairing: Verlaine, Pianoman, Lippmann X GN!Reader (separately) cw: a little sad in Verlaine's, half-proofread desc: you gifted your partner a heart locket with a photo of you inside.

Verlaine:

Receives the necklace pre-SB

It wasn’t originally his idea to wear a piece of jewelry like a necklace in the first place, let alone one that had a picture of you in it

Of course, he was fond of you, but his mind never crossed physically carrying or wearing something that reminded him of you (it was partially for your own safety as well, as he didn’t want to burden you with the consequences of being close with an assassin)

At first, he grimaced at the necklace when you handed it to him, until you opened up the locket, revealing a small image of you (to which he let out a soft sigh, dropping his expression, before placing it in his pocket)

You honestly thought he just never wore it at all, as you recall his reaction to the hat that Rimbaud gave him, but unbeknownst to you, he kept it in his pocket for a while until he eventually chose to put it on one day because it kept slipping out

He wears it underneath his clothes, so you definitely can’t tell if he’s wearing it or not (he doesn’t take it off because he loves you he doesn’t like the sensation of the cold metal after taking it off/putting it on)

Didn’t really appreciate the gift, and just wore it on him, until one day, he stripped off to shower himself in the PM basement and heard a rattling coming from his neck

He looked down, fingers gently brushing over the locket that laid over his heart

His eyes traveled towards it as he opened it, staring at the small image of you smiling with a faint blush on your cheeks

He closes the locket with a soft sigh, similar to one he’d give you whenever you showed him a romantic gesture

Now he finds himself wondering if you’re going to come back for him (or if he’ll find himself coming back to you)

Pianoman:

Gifted you a locket before you gave him one: snuck up behind you and placed the locket around your neck before fastening it and placing a kiss on your hair

it was his idea to make a locket for you with a picture of him, so he was happy to see you reciprocate the gesture with the same gift

Upon receiving it, he still had the same gentle smile, but with a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the gift, reaching for your hand and leaving a kiss on the back of it

“ Thank you, my sweet.”

Threaded the chain of the locket to a small loop on the inside of his vest’s left chest pocket (so that it’s closer to his heart); neatly tucked in the pocket so that it doesn’t fall out

When he’s alone, he’ll open up the locket to look at the small picture of you; it leaves a small smile on his face as he continues to do his work diligently (in short: he has a “this is who I’m doing it for” moment)

The necklace is a little stained by how often he touches it; will brush his fingers over the metal when he’s about to go on a mission/goes into work

He doesn’t give me the vibe that he kisses the locket, but he definitely likes to feel it beneath his bare fingers (he will take off his gloves to feel the metal, it calms him down)

At the end of work, he takes it out of his vest and usually puts it on a tray by his nightstand, but sometimes you’ll find him holding it in his hand as he’s falling asleep

His heart flutters whenever he notices you fidgeting with the locket he gave you

Lippmann:

since this man is EVERYWHERE, literally running around doing work from place to place you decided to gift him something that reminded him of you

He happily accepted the gift with a gentle smile and placed it around his neck

“ Does it look good on me, darling?” You nod. “ Good, now I’ll be able to take you with me everywhere.”

I was going to say that he carries it in a pocket or something, but similar to Verlaine, he wears it underneath his clothes, making sure that it’s close to his chest

Doesn’t take it off unless he absolutely needs to, and when he does, he places it back in it’s box, making sure it’s tucked safely away

If someone happens to spot the necklace that he’s wearing (say a costume assistant/one of the flags) he’s such a bragger-

“ Oh this? My darling gave it to me. The locket has such a beautiful picture or them. Aren’t they so sweet? Gifting me such a lovely reminder of them.”

[insert romantic sigh from Lippmann, and Chuuya rolling his eyes and silently gagging]

He does not shut up about it and you- he loves you too much

Before every mission, performance, meeting, etc. he’ll pull out the locket, placing a soft kiss on the metal before tucking it back under his shirt

If he has some down time and is reading a book, if he’s not with you, his hand will pull out the necklace from his neck and wrap it around his fingers as he often holds your hand as he reads with his other hand

[thanks for reading until the end! thank you to anon for requesting once again >:D i'm still on hiatus, but i'm writing little by little when i find the motivation- if you'd like to support me further, feel free to leave a tip on my kofi or send me a comm! <3]