#i feel like he'd be able to speak as he normally does but when he wants to ask for something he'd just reduce it down to names

[ruporas]

drank too much

[ID: Digital Art of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash’s body is turned slightly away from the viewer as he holds a staggering Wolfwood by his shoulder. He has one foot ahead of the other, the foot in the back used to stabilize himself from tipping over. Wolfwood is tethering into Vash, his weight pressed into him with his arms wrapped around Vash’s waist and his face is hidden away as he leans against Vash’s shoulder. Vash’s expression can be seen, his eyes wide and mouth tight-lipped, and his face is flushed red. A speech bubble comes out from Wolfwood, saying a drawled “Spikeyyy...”. The background are desaturated pastels of blue and green, showing night time, as they stand in the middle of an empty street that is also lit by the moon not depicted. Yellow light is seen coming from the inside of a saloon. End ID]

[werewolfdog]

Wild that one day you can just look at a coworker who you're well connected with and realize you can really see them as your parental figure

[bunni-v1]

MORE JEALOUS PURE VANILLA COOKIE OMGGGG he'd totally be a jealous person despite his kindness

kinda imagining that in the stage during the push and pull he was doing, trying to push you away, you become quite close to some other cookies in the kingdom, specifically the creme Republic (clotted cream and financier) and he just gets.... uncomfortable when you two are FINALLY together because you're so friendly with clotted cream and his bodyguard.... like, hello.........

his eyes narrow slightly, and it just makes him feel so unpleasant, knowing that clotted cream cookie can easily strike up conversation with you and randomly tell him something you like—it makes his dough seethe slightly, whether he wants to admit it or not. or how financier and some random vanilla kingdom npcs mention a fact about you he coincidentally doesn't know because he was busy going through it and pushing you away before; OUGHHHHHH

i like to think white lily is involved in this in some way? he can't fully get over her and sometimes he tends to get passive about your very real concerns about how he looks at her as though he has something to say, i wonder how he would react if he finds you actually a bit insecure or unsure whether he'd pick you over her......... since he still cares deeply about his once first love, no?

anyways. yes. jealous PV is a concept that sticks heavily in my mind rn

-🃏

Jealousy Looks Ugly on You

🍓Hi pookiebear, I'm so sorry for 100% butchering the Creme Republic. I refuse to play that shit, even for that stupid blonde twink. Note, this takes place significantly after the events of Beast Yeast, so White Lily is technically visiting as a diplomat from the Faerie kingdom, and pv has already had his character development lol. Assumptions are made, and there is heavily implied past PureLily.

Tw: Poor communication; jealousy; implications at the very end; grammar/spelling errors

Info: Pure Vanilla x Reader; Implied past purelily; angst (not really though); fluff

Patience is a virtue that few cookies can claim to have. It's something that doesn't come easy to most, and Pure Vanilla Cookie has never judged anyone for being unable to hold themselves back from frustration. Except... himself of course.

He was exceptionally patient, to the point most gawked at him for his gentleness and understanding in certain situations. He held himself to a higher standard, and very few things brought out irritation in him. So... why exactly was the sight of Clotted Cream Cookie making his dough run so hot right now?

It wasn't as though Clotted Cream was doing anything offensive, quite the opposite actually. He was having a pleasant conversation, all warm smiles and... gentle touches. With who? Oh. Just the object of Pure Vanilla's deepest affections, the cookie he'd only recently been able to call his other half, his dearly beloved you.

Clotted Cream seems to speak to you with such familiarity, such warmth like perhaps he too harbors some kind of affection for you. Pure Vanilla's eyebrow twitches when he leans in to whisper something in your ear, and you laugh like it's the funniest thing you've ever heard. It nearly pulls a frown out of him, but his calm smile remains steadfast, not wanting you to notice and worry over him.

Still, his eyes narrow when Clotted Cream pats you on your shoulder good-naturedly. The former cookie locking eyes with him and smiling before sending you back to his side like he hadn't earned Pure Vanilla's ire only seconds ago. You are oblivious, as you always are, as he wants you to be. He only smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you just a little closer than he normally does.

"Did you enjoy your time with Clotted Cream Cookie, my love?" He asks sweetly, though he doesn't really want to know.

You give him a beaming smile, "As always. He knows how to make boring proceedings fun."

"Ah," he hopes you don't notice how he tenses, "What were you talking about just now, it seemed funny."

"Just an inside joke," you smile fondly as you remember, "it's only funny if you were there, or else I'd let you in on it too."

"That's alright," he hums, though his fingers press a little harder into your side as you walk, "I'm just happy to see you happy."

It's not a lie, either. He does love seeing your smile, but not when it's caused by another cookie. Not when it's treated like some kind of secret he's not meant to see. He tries to remind himself that there's no need to be so immature, but his dough is already warm and his mind spiraling. It took him so very long to come to terms with his feelings for you, he missed out on so much. Where he wasn't, other cookies were, and those cookies took his place in experiences that should've been his. Took smiles that should've been his. Moments he should've shared with you.

You place your hand where he holds you at your waist, turning to give him a warm smile. It warms his heart to know you're caring for him in your own way, but he doesn't want to make you worry. To ease your mind, he presses a kiss to your forehead, offering his own smile up to you. You were with him now, there was no need to worry any longer.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

Pure Vanilla enjoyed quiet moments with you, especially ones like this. In the garden, surrounded by the white lilies there was nothing more peaceful than that. Your fingers run along their delicate petals as you hum a little tune to yourself, and he enjoys the sight with unbridled delight. His favorite cookie surrounded by his favorite flowers, what a blessing it is on his soul.

There are times where he wishes that every day could be like this. Just you and him in company, taking things nice and slow, soaking in the environment. You turn a little to sneak a glance at him, smiling to yourself when you notice his staring. The shyness cute on your face, something he loves to draw out of you.

Yes moments like these are exactly what he lives fo—

“Y/n Cookie? Are you around?” The familiar voice of Financier Cookie calls amongst the sea of flowers.

You perk up, standing from your spot with a wide smile, “I’m over here with the lilies!”

She comes into view around the corner, normally stern expression softening at the sight of you. Pure Vanilla does not like the look on her face. Still, he holds his tongue, there was no reason to be upset. She was a friend.

“Clotted Cream requests your presence,” She announces, and when you frown she shakes her head, “Nothing serious, he wishes to continue your conversation from yesterday. He’s in he quarters as usual.”

You brighten up, “Oh! I suppose we never did finish talking— ah, but… Pure Vanilla and I were spending some time together.”

He does not frown, though he really wants to. He knows that he could just say no, that you would remain by his side if he asked… but he can’t possibly take up your time when you are wanted elsewhere. It would be unfair to do so over such petty jealousy.

“We see each other every day,” He assures with that same gentle smile, “Go and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

You frown a little, “Are you sure?”

Of course he isn’t, “Positive. I’ll see you tonight.”

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at him worriedly, but ultimately wander off to find Clotted Cream. Financier stays back for a moment, watching you with an odd look on her face. The consideration is enough to pique his interest, so he raises his question.

“Is something the matter…?”

“Oh, no, nothing,” She shakes her head, “I would tell you immediately if there was anything to be concerned with.”

“Then why do you look so perplexed?” He asks again.

She seems to consider if telling him the truth is worth it or not. Mulling her options over for a few seconds before sighing, “It’s just a bit… odd to see them here.”

He frowns, “Whatever do you mean? Is there something wrong with the gardens?”

She shakes her head, sighing off some kind of weight, “Well, they’ve told me a few times in passing that they’re… not a fan of while lillie’s. The smell irritates them, if I’m remembering correctly, so it’s surprising to find them surrounded by them.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware…” He mutters, grip tightening on his staff.

She gives him a small reassuring smile, but it does anything but help, “I’m sure they just forgot to mention it, that’s all.”

“Of course, thank you Financier Cookie,” He hummed with as much sincerity he could muster.

She smiles tightly at him, and then leaves him alone with his thoughts. And think he does, far too much. Not only are you so close with so many cookies, not only did you leave him for Clotted Cream today, but now he learns you don’t even care for his favorite flower? You hadn’t ever mentioned it to him, but you had to other cookies. Wouldn’t something this important be worth talking about with him?

He takes a deep breath, leveling himself out once again. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, knowing that you would never do anything to hurt him purposefully. He couldn’t stop the ache, though. There was so much he did not know about you, so many things he had to learn that other cookies got to hear without asking.

How much time would it take for him to know you the way they did? He burned with jealousy at how easy it was for other cookies to know you, to see you and talk to you with no effort. Each time you were around he felt himself falling apart at the seams, grasping at any little sprinkle of attention you gave him. He could never be so casual with you, not with the effect you had on him, and it made him so jealous to know other cookies had it so easy.

He sighs again, setting his hat down. Not even the lilies were bringing him comfort now, his mood soured yet again. All he could do was sit and seethe until you returned to his side, imagining what you and Clotted Cream might be talking about that was so important to pluck you from his side.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

It is days of this cycle, which he refuses to break, even when given the chance to a million times. He just can’t find it in himself to step in, not when you seem so happy. Besides, it’s not as though he never sees you. He gets to have you to himself for most of the day, and especially at night.

Still, the annoyance grows in his chest little by little. Without realizing it he distanced himself from you, not wanting to overstep, he decides giving you space is for the best. Yet, he doesn’t realize just how much space he has given you. You begin to miss him, but he always has an excuse for you to go and visit with other cookies.

It feels like he does not want you around, even though he misses you dearly. The conundrum reaches a head when White Lily comes to visit. Being the Faerie Queen now, it was rare she took the time to see her old friend. So when the news of her traveling reached his ears, he cleared all his time to be with her.

You had not seen him since she had arrived, unless you were in your shared room. Even then, you hardly spoke more than a few words. There was an awkwardness there that hadn’t existed only a few days prior, it made your stomach ache. But how could you bring up your concerns when he merely brushed them away, always finding some way to make peace with the situation.

You did not hate White Lily Cookie, she couldn’t not control Pure Vanilla. But the sickness in your dough when you see them together does not go away with any soothing. He talks to her with such ease and knowing, in a way he never did with you. And when he looks at her there is a deep affection that never existed for you.

It makes you hurt. You could never be her, not in a million years. Perhaps that was why he was so distant recently, because he had missed her. Perhaps he wished that you were White Lily Cookie instead.

Despite him seeming oblivious, he was anything but. He was fully aware of the distance he had made between the two of you, and yet… he didn’t know how to fix it. His people pleasing ways had come around to stab him in the back, and he had no idea how to heal the wound inflicted by his own foolish actions.

Not until White Lily’s keen eyes picked up in the tension. She had always been able to read him well, it was why he was so fond of her. She knew him like no other cookie did, and he her. Which is exactly why she was the one to notice how worried he’d seemed.

“You’re tense,” She said simply, taking her seat next to him in the pagoda.

He sighs, “Is it obvious.”

“To me,” She smiles, “Tell me what’s on your mind, friend. It’s rare to see you so worried.”

He frowns at her, all the tension and fear from the week flooding him now that she was confronting it, “I am afraid I may be ruining my relationship.”

She blinks at him, tilting her head, “How would you be doing that?”

After a moments hesitation he lists the ways he has been dealing with the situation. The worry that he will never be close enough to you. The annoyance in his chest when other cookies are chummy with you. The distance he has created to avoid those feeling only making them worse. She smiles through the whole thing, knowingly.

“So… you’re jealous?” She chuckles, leaning forward with a teasing smile.

“I… suppose I am,” He admits, “It’s not as though the feeling is new, but it’s never been so strong…”

She laughs at him again, “Because you are in love, silly. Of course it’s stronger, have you talked to them about it.”

“Well…”

“Pure Vanilla.” She scolds, “Goodness, when will you ever learn. You can’t people please all the time, it’s not good for your health.”

He sighs, nodding along in agreement, “I know, I just don’t know how to bring it up so I deflect. And I’ve been avoiding them since you arrived, I can tell they feel horrible, but I fear I’ve gone too far.”

She hushes him, grabbing his hand in her own, “It’s never too late if the intent is there. I’m sure they’ll understand if you just talk to them. I would.”

“Thank you White Lily,” He smiles genuinely for the first time since she arrived, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She smiles warmly at him, squeezing his hand tightly. She always had a way to ease his worries with her words. It was just how well she knew him, she knew just what he needed as always.

A throat clears to the side of them, drawing their attention to it. White Lily reacts first, pulling her hands away from him and offering you a smile.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, mousy with voice shaking.

“Of course not,” She assures, “We were just talking about you, actually!”

Your expression relaxes a bit, inching forward as if one of them might deny you entry, “Nothing bad I hope…”

“Never,” Pure Vanilla speaks with such warmth that you almost forget how much you’d missed him this whole time, “Please come join us.”

So you do, and you sit and talk with them, and things are nearly normal. Pure Vanilla is back to his usual affectionate self, like nothing ever happened. But you catch the way he and White Lily exchange glances, the way banter comes to them more easily than it ever has to you. They just understood each other in a way you never have, and you couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. Especially not after he’d pushed you away so much.

Eventually, White Lily leaves with the excuse of needing rest. Yet, you know it’s to give the two of you space. She’s always been observant and understanding, and you’re grateful for her consideration. When it is just you and Pure Vanilla again, you feel the tension begin to creep back between you. The thick wall of awkwardness wedging between you, and you fear for a moment that this is how it will be forever now. Then, he takes your hands in his, leaning over the table to get closer to you.

“I have to apologize,” He begins, “I have been unfair to you, and we have both suffered because of my actions.”

“Pure Vanilla—“ You want to ease his worries for some reason, tell him it’s alright, but he doesn’t allow you to.

“It took me a very long time to let you in, and because of that I fell short on sharing important moments with you. I’ve found myself… envious of other cookies who take up your time, and I’ve been immature in how I handle it,” He admits, stroking the backs of your hands, “I’ve put too much distance between us, and I can see how much it pains you. I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

It takes you a moment of awkward blinking to take in all he said, and while his genuineness is sweet, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your stomach. It’s ridiculous when you think about it. He was jealous so he avoided you, and at the same time you were just as jealous of White Lily Cookie. It was silly, and so easily solved, yet neither of you were willing to upset the other. He seems to find the humor in it all too, laughing heartily at your side.

You laugh until your sides hurt and tears are streaming from your eyes. Leaning your full weight on him so you don’t collapse to the floor. When you finally calm, you find it in yourself to admit to your own plight.

“I would be harsh on you, but I’m just as guilty of jealousy.” You sigh, squeezing his fingers in yours.

“What do you have to be jealous of?” He asks, and you almost can’t believe he doesn’t know. It’s so obvious to everyone else around him that he still adores White Lily, everyone but him it seems.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Gosh, you’re so oblivious. You really don’t know how you look at her, do you?”

He shakes his head with a deep frown.

“When you look at White Lily, I can see how much you still love her. I know you would never hurt me or betray me like that, but it does hurt when I see how you treat her. I feel like… maybe you’ll never look at me like that.” You admit, voice small and shaky the longer you go. It was hard to come to terms with how much it hurt, and worse to say out loud to him. He could reject you, pretend your feelings aren’t real.

Instead, he tucks a finger under you chin and forces your eyes on him, “I already do… I just get so embarrassed when you’re looking that I hide it from you.”

He pulls you a little closer, “I still love White Lily, but not in the same way that I love you. You are my whole world, my love. I would never leave you, not for anyone, and I’m sorry I made you worry for even a moment.”

You smile softly at him, leaning into his touch, “Next time, I think we should both just talk about it? All this dodging each other is silly.”

“I agree,” He chuckles, “I much prefer talking to you than not.”

“Very good,” You hum, sliding your arms around his shoulders, “Shall we make it up to each other then?”

His hand tug you closer by your waist, “I think that would be very nice, yes.”

[quantum1mmortality]

Im so glad you're writing for Curly bc I'm so obsessed with him rn!! May I suggest (if you haven't done them already) some soft/fluffy post burn hcs? Like finally seing him again after a long drive to the hospital, mentally preparing yourself for what he might look like. Curly being so afraid about how you'd react, and just breaking down when you let out an "oh, Curly :(" and softly place a hand on his cheek, so worried that you might hurt him by accident that it's hardly even a touch at all. Curly leaning his cheek into your palm, having been so scared to see you and now so desperate for your touch.

Life returning to a new normal after a while, prosthetics and PT, skin grafts, so on. Lying in bed with him and being so relived and happy when he gets a spark of mischief like he used to and tries to tickle or play wrestle with you. Him quietly asking questions when the laughter dies down. if you missed his lips, or the blond hair you loved so much that now hardly grew at all. Reassuring him that it didn't matter what he looked like, or what he could and could not do anymore. He's still your curly.

Sorry this turned out so long 😭 I can't get him out of my head!

I LOVE what you wrote 🙏🙏 I'll be going off of these, taking bits and pieces of your hcs and then putting them in here. Overall just gonna be fluffy post crash Curly hcs :)

Of topic, but the way some people in this fandom treat post crash curly makes me nauseous. Finding out that some of you wouldn't treat him like I would makes me wanna cry. Maybe I'm too empathetic or maybe I'm a baby back bitch, either way, I'd care for this man so much. Y'all don't understand how much I love him.

Tw/cw; none!! One curse word but that's literally it (I think)

Not proofread

Extremely sensitive to touch for the first few weeks. I feel as though curly would be in incredible pain, but would try his best to keep your hands touching his cheeks, face, body in general. He'd even go as far as to whimper at how bad it hurt, yet still enduring it because he needed to know you still loved him.

He'd be so happy to see you anytime you were around. Just like pre crash, but it was more special. It got to the point where you would take off work for weeks at a time just to be with him, just so you could see him happy.

After the first two months of agonizing pain, you'd start touching him more. Not sexual, obviously, but just getting more physically affectionate. You'd be able to hug and kiss him goodbye, and hold on to his arm as you talked with him.

Speaking of talking, he wouldn't be able to, so you would talk for him. Basically telling him something, then answering any questions he may or may not have. You've known him long enough, you know how he'd react and question things, so it was practically a no brainer for you.

Now that he doesn't feel as much pain as he used to from your touches, you'd begin sleeping with him. NOT SEXUAL!!! Just cuddling up next to him in the hospital bed, laying your head on his shoulders and kissing him goodnight. Just like how you used to.

Eventually he'd start getting prosthetics, and aside from the physical therapy he's usually getting, you'd bring board games and playing cards so he could learn to use his new hands while still spending time with you.

Curly used to kick your ass in uno and honestly he still does. The trembling in his hands would slowly go away over time, and you were helping him with that much more than his physical therapist was; because at least he wanted to actually be around you.

After months and months, he'd finally be ready to take home. New prosthetics and a bunch of skin graft surgeries later, he's in good condition again. Not perfect in his eyes, but it is in yours.

He wouldn't be able to work, but Pony Express sends him checks as if he was. He gets enough from them, you could quit your job, but you don't want to be dependent on them. So you keep working.

Getting home from work is your favorite part of the day, having Curly be so happy to see you makes everything so worth it.

Your home life goes back to normal with a few exceptions, but nothing too drastic. Curly being in a wheelchair and still not being able to speak, but it's nothing you can't handle. You love him, you're willing to make sacrifices. He'd do the same for you, and you know that.

Bonus content; if you guys were married before the crash, once he got his prosthetic hands, he'd have you help him make a little beaded necklace for his ring to go on; that way he could still wear it :) he'd never take the necklace off once it's done

A/N; I've been pretty busy recently so sorry for the delay on requests; I have a lot of ideas for them though so hopefully they'll be out soon

[bumblingbabooshka]

Amanda's line in TOS about how the Vulcan way of life is better than the Human one and the fact that she consented to raising Spock as entirely Vulcan hints towards a very strange and interesting woman that I wish would be portrayed/explored instead of the way I normally see her in adaptations which is...Slightly Sad Perfect Mother Figure. Good Woman. Good Emotions Woman to balance out Sarek. Like, to me, these things (the line and how Spock was raised to be ashamed of his Humanity) paint the picture of Amanda going up to Sarek and being like...in the midst of all these Humans he interacts with daily, so singular and interesting because of her outpouring of appreciation for the Vulcan way of life. And maybe Sarek and her speak about it and he finds himself fascinated by this woman and that mix of mutual interest becomes affection becomes love. And then these two freaks put their heads together at a certain point down the road of their marriage and Sarek says y'know Amanda it's SO cool what we're doing here but I think you've pretty much got this Vulcan thing as down as you're going to. You're a marvel and you leave me in awe every day, with the way you were raised entirely Human I don't think anyone else has achieved what you have. But you know what'd be so fucking sick? Let's see if we can raise a child that's half you and half me, a symbol of our bond and our hopes for the future of mankind (that they conquer their emotions and follow a logical path). Let's see how THAT kid handles it. It's fine to have kids that're half science experiment half symbol of the future, right? That won't fuck them up? And Amanda says YEEESSS I'd fucking LOVE to do that with you Sarek. I love you so much. And you know, Amanda is a rather enigmatic character. Why she does what she does, what she wants, how she feels about Spock and Vulcans - they're largely up to interpretation since the episode she appears in becomes very high stress very quickly and people don't always act in line with how they normally do when under that kind of life-or-death pressure BUT what I think is a point of tragedy in Spock and Amanda's relationship isn't that Spock couldn't be Human enough but that these two people couldn't bond about having emotions yet following the Vulcan path. They both view the Vulcan path as being difficult but worth it to follow. It's the path they both chose for themselves, ultimately. Imagine how much sooner Spock may have been able to accept himself wholly if he'd felt able to confide in his mother about a feeling she probably would have understood completely in a way Sarek couldn't - being Human yet alien yet Vulcan. Amanda chose to live with Sarek on Vulcan. Did she feel at home with Humans? Does she feel at home with Vulcans? Or does she exist in the same liminal space her son does? Not Human enough, not Vulcan enough. It's so interesting that Amanda Grayson is a Human being, a Human woman (which would've been especially noteworthy in the TOS' gender politics era) who can be interpreted as having in essence consciously forsaken her Humanity and encouraged her son to do the same. To what end? Was that for love or was it something she'd done before meeting Sarek? Was it lonely? When Spock allows himself to smile very slightly at something, does he look in the mirror and remember his mother's face? Maybe he does and maybe at first he's ashamed. But then he's an old man and it only brings him peace, a tether to a woman he could never really connect to in life.

[rcmclachlan]

8x15 spec fic (like, how does tommy get involved with the big emergency? but also i just want tommy to have people, too.)

+

Once Buckley starts begging for help—"please, please, if there's a-anyone out there, if anyone's listening, I'm... please, they're my family"—over an open channel through deep, heaving sobs that sounded like they're being dragged out of his belly and drawing blood on their way out, Dana figures Kinard's probably already in the air and halfway to where they're holding the rogue scientist at Fort MacArthur. But to her surprise, he's still on the ground, standing apart from everyone currently clustered around Captain Melton's desk. He's aging fifteen years before her very eyes, looking like someone's stuck a pitchfork in his gut and is starting to turn it.

Kinard values privacy more than anything and would be mortified if anyone saw feel a single emotion that wasn't humor, so she looks away.

The entire crew has been glued to the radio for the last twenty minutes as though Orson Welles is the one delivering the dramatic relaying of the 118's impending doom and how it's the only thing keeping them from being charged with domestic terrorism. For the life of her, Dana will never understand how it's always them getting into these situations. There are 106 fire stations in Los Angeles; 105 of them somehow manage to avoid getting caught up in Armageddon on the regular. She's dying to know what their insurance premiums look like.

Movement out of the corner of her eye startles her into looking up again just in time to see a large, tall flash of blue storm out of the hangar and onto the tarmac.

She has to give Kinard credit. He lasted much longer than she'd expected: almost a full minute.

Dana is at least a head shorter than everyone else on the team, so it's easy for her to slip away without being noticed. Although Lucy does, of course, and Dana gently taps her fingers against the small of Lucy's back as she goes, tilting her head a little at Nico, who's standing to Lucy's left.

Lucy has always operated on Dana's wavelength, which makes working with her a genuine pleasure, because Dana never has to waste time with talking, with explaining her reasoning for anything. Lucy just seems to know what Dana needs from her. Nico's convinced they're able to speak telepathically, and sometimes Dana can't argue against the possibility.

Even now, Lucy just inclines her head slightly and disguises it by acting like she's leaning in to hear the radio better. Before Dana leaves the office, she sees Lucy nudge Nico. 

They've been grounded ever since Captain Nash disobeyed the order, and the silence that has befallen the hangar fills Dana with dread as she walks out onto the tarmac, because a quiet base means trouble. A quiet base is death.

By the time she reaches the Bell 505 that Kinard's apparently chosen for whatever he's planning, he's strapped in and about to shut the door, but she slides into the doorway before he can.

Kinard opens his mouth, most likely to tell her that she can't stop him from what he's about to do, which is patently untrue, but she beats him to the punch.

"Are you sure?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm—"

"I mean are you sure."

She puts a little firmness into her voice, which is hard. She's not soft-spoken by choice. Her vocal cords were already weaker than normal before she joined the LAFD and fighting fires has certainly not helped. 

"It's—" Kinard swallows. "It's him. I have to."

She thinks of the Tommy Kinard from last October, who walked in every shift with a literal bounce in his step and smiled for no reason when he thought no one was watching, and how a different Tommy Kinard started coming to work mid-November. It took him weeks to start eating normally again, to lose the look in his eyes that reminded her of dead trees in standing water, to trust himself enough that he was comfortable being back in the air. 

He'd finally been on the upswing, and everyone on the A-shift had breathed a collective sigh of relief, and then last month it all seemed to come crashing down again. He'd gone home one day smiling and making jokes, and then he was back in Melton's office at the start of his next shift asking to be grounded again. 

"You'll know they'll take your wings for this," Dana says, and he nods. "Is Buckley really worth losing the sky over?" 

Dana had never been a fan of Evan Buckley's even before he took up with Kinard. He was so desperate to be liked by everyone at every scene that it made him impulsive and, quite frankly, annoying. She'd worked with him on two calls and it was like trying to wrangle a very competent puppy. 

When Kinard finally admitted he was seeing the 118's very own walking, talking billboard for Murphy's Law, Dana had been the only one at Harbor who didn't slap him on the back or offer their congratulations. She'd known exactly how it would go, and she didn't relish being right. 

Early on in the new year, she saw Buckley in Vons. He'd been loading an enormous bag of flour into his cart, and although she's certain she didn't make any kind of noise, Buckley had looked up and spotted her. After a moment that felt like a decade of staring, he lifted a hand and attempted a smile that looked painful even from where she'd been standing. She thought about returning the gesture, if only to be the polite lady her mother had desperately tried to raise her to be. Then she thought of how Kinard hadn't so much as glanced at the sky in weeks, and she turned her cart around and walked away. 

Evan Buckley has fought against his own house, the LAFD at large, and seemingly the world for everything he's wanted. The fact he didn't bother fighting for Kinard tells her everything she needs to know. She's certain about Evan Buckley.

"He is." Unfortunately, Kinard is more certain. "I'm sure."

"You will be charged with something none of us will be able to get you out of."

At that, he turns a bewildered smile on her. "Dane, why would you—I'd never expect any of you to try."

Apparently working and defying death together, not to mention countless trivia nights and dinners out, don't make a friendship. It hurts to hear.

"I know you're very attached to your whole lone wolf thing, but you do have people in your corner, Kinard." She holds his gaze and refuses to drop it. He's not going to happily walk into a federal jail cell without hearing what she'd thought was obvious all this time. "You have people who will go to bat for you."

He swallows and jerks his eyes down to his lap, then huffs a wet laugh. "Dane—"

"Which is why Nico's starting a fire in the locker room." 

That gets him to look up. His eyes are wide and red-rimmed. "He's what?"

"Or setting off the sticks of dynamite he keeps in his glove compartment. Whatever he comes up with. Aiding and abetting domestic terrorism necessitates a distraction." She lets a reassuring smile sneak out. "You've got one."

Kinard's lip trembles a little as he stares at her with something like awe, like he's been given a gift he never once expected, but she watches him visibly bite it all back in favor of reaching for the skills and fearlessness that have helped make a name for him at AirOps. She steps out of the doorway and backs up as he turns on the Bell. The explosion of air tries to ruin her hair, but the snood she put her hair into this morning holds firm. 

Through the tint in the windshield, she can see him lift a hand at her. She doesn't hesitate to lift one right back. 

When he's at least 500 feet in the air, she goes to the other Bell and gets on the radio, tuning it for the right frequency. When she lands on the same channel the call had originally come from, she patches in. 

"Firefighter Buckley, please be advised: help is on the way. Keep an eye on the skies." She thumbs off the speaker and watches as Captain Melton comes storming out of his office. As he gets closer, she clicks back in. "And let me be clear, Buckley: if you fuck things up with him again, your very talented medics at the 118 won't be able to fix what I'll do to you."

Satisfied, she places the radio back into its charging port and slides out of the Bell, then heads in the direction of the hangar. It's been quite some time since she's been in the kind of trouble that ends with being put on leave, which she most certainly will be once her voice is identified.

As Captain Melton approaches, she thinks of all the shows clogging up her Hulu queue that she'll finally be able to get to, and smiles.

[strangerstilinski]

can you pretty please do [intimidation] with eddie

🥺👉👈

[INTIMIDATION] sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.

cw: alcohol consumption, fem!reader, sort of enemies -> lovers (but actually idiots -> lovers), 2.4k

dividers by @strangergraphics

You're blocking the doorway into the Harrington kitchen, shoulder leaned against the wood panelling where you have a good view into the living room. Your unimpressed glare is drawn from the figure currently hogging the sofa when someone bumps into you just as you're bringing the plastic cup in your hand to your lips.

"Jesus, fucking watch it-" The outrage in your tone fades quick when you see who's run into you.

"Sorry." Jonathan grimaces as he watches you wipe a bit of juice and vodka from your chin.

"No, it's fine," You sigh and turn on your heel, following Jonathan into the kitchen as he begins to grab things to make himself a drink, though it appears to be far more lemon-lime soda and grenadine than anything else. "Sorry, I just.. I dunno, sorry." You shrug before gulping down another mouthful of your own admittedly strong drink. You're kind of hoping that once your buzz kicks in you'll feel just a little less like there's a storm cloud floating right above your head.

"What is with you, tonight?" Jonathan asks with an overly cautious smile, "I haven't seen Munson bug you even once, so it's gotta be somethin' else-"

"Nothing," You huff, a little defensive at just the mention of the other boy, "I'm fine."

"Oh yeah, totally," Jonathan chuckles and raises his newly acquired drink in a salute, "You're like a ray of sunshine tonight."

It's annoying as hell, but he's right. You're fuming and Eddie has yet to even speak to you. He's been avoiding you like the plague from the moment you walked through the door, as if Eddie could somehow sense that you were already in a mood, and he didn't feel like getting told off for being the reason that you finally snapped.

Because normally, Eddie would've found at least seven ways he could irritate you by now. He'd have finished the last of the juice he saw you eyeing for your next mixed drink and laughed maniacally when you pouted about it. He'd have pestered you about whether you might want to join in on another campaign, all while making a handful of little comments about just how easy it'll be for him to decimate your character when you do. He'd have watched you shiver while you passed a joint back and forth by the pool, and then draped his stupid jacket around your shoulders just so he could roll his eyes and give you shit about not dressing warmly enough.

Eddie was infuriating — And the worst part was that he knew it. The asshole thrived on pushing buttons and testing people's limits, but tonight evidently he'd been able to tell that you were already toeing dangerously close to yours and had steered clear altogether.

You peer back out into the living room now, narrowed eyes zeroing back in on the figure sprawled across the entire length of the loveseat, socked feet kicked up on the opposite cushion where someone else could be sitting if he weren't such a selfish prick.

"God, what an asshole." You grumble, downing the last of your drink and grabbing the nearest bottle to begin mixing another. "I mean, look at him, seriously. Does he have to take up the whole couch?"

Jonathan's gaze follows the path your own had taken moments before, and he snorts in amusement, "Eddie."

It's not a question, but you answer him as if it had been.

"Yes, Eddie." Another quick glance up into the living room has your eyes locking with the man in question just as his name falls from your lips.

Eddie's eyes go wide, his cheeks dimpling with his sudden grin. He jabs his index finger into his chest, lips moving silently around the words, "Who? Me?"

"Uh-huh.. Why don't you go do something about it?" Jonathan teases.

Eddie's attention is pulled away when Gareth says something from his spot in an armchair. Whatever he says it gets Eddie riled up and he's immediately talking animatedly, hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

"Maybe I will." You're already moving with purpose, halfway out of the kitchen when you hear your friend shout after you.

"I was joking!"

"Well I'm not!" You call back over your shoulder.

It's darker as you step into the living room, overhead lights off in favor of utilizing the warmer glow from the the lamp tucked away in the corner. You have to step over Eddie's discarded shoes at the foot of the sofa, and the boy very nearly knocks your drink out of your hand when you step in front of him, too distracted by his own tirade to have seen your approach.

But his head snaps up toward you as your thigh brushes his arm. Whatever he's been saying, the words cut off abruptly at the realization of who it is standing beside him.

"Well hey there, princess." He shoots you a toothy grin — You assume it's meant to be charming, but it only irritates you further. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

You ignore Eddie in favor of casting a small smile of apology toward Gareth, "Sorry to interrupt."

"Nah, no worrie-"

"No, no! You didn't interrupt. We were done." Eddie cuts his friend off, "Gareth was just telling me he was gonna go take a piss, actually."

Gareth splutters for a moment, but when his eyes shift from you to Eddie he's suddenly rising from his chair. You watch Gareth shake his head as he steps around you before he stalks off without a word.

"What was that about?" You can't help but ask in curiosity.

"Beats me. Really had to piss, I guess." Eddie says quickly, sitting up a little straighter against the arm of the couch. He throws an arm out to gesture to Gareth's recently vacated chair, "Did you wanna-"

Rather than taking advantage of the empty seat, you plop yourself across Eddie's thighs unceremoniously, feeling oddly satisfied by the huff of surprise that escapes him when your weight is suddenly in his lap.

The way the warmth of his body seeps into your own is near immediate, even through two layers of denim. Your arm presses into his chest as you lean back into the cushion of the sofa, trying and failing to remain unaffected by his proximity. He smells infuriatingly good this close, clean and masculine with just a lingering hint of the weed he'd smoked earlier in the night. It makes your stomach flutter wildly, makes your head swim for half a second before you're lifting your cup to your mouth in an effort to compose yourself.

Eddie huffs softly and his breath fans out over your exposed shoulder, warm and smelling faintly of cheap beer and menthols. Goosebumps prickle along the length of your arm, hairs standing on end suddenly. You wish you could convince yourself that your body's reaction were one of repulsion, but deep down you know that its something far, far worse than that.

"You.. You're just gonna.. sit.. here?" Eddie asks, voice a little wobbly, unsure.

His knuckles brush your thigh, likely an accident, but one sidelong glare has his hand retreating to the relative safety of the couch cushion in a flash.

"Yep."

You can see outside to the patio from your position, and you focus your attention to the group sitting with their feet in the pool. The sheer amount of effort it takes to keep your eyes trained there, rather than allowing them to drift to where Eddie's hand twitches near your knee-

"Do- Did you want me to move my legs? Do you want-" He shifts underneath you like he's ready to pull his feet from the cushion at the other end, but you remain resolutely in place.

"Nope, I'm good."

You have absolutely no plans of moving any time soon. You'd remain seated right here in Eddie's lap until his bladder was ready to burst, until your weight made his legs fall asleep and tingle from lack of blood flow, until he was ready to grab you by your hips and force you into another seat.

He'd learn his lesson. The inconsiderate couch-hogging asshole.

"O..kay." Eddie says slowly, wiping his palm on the side of his own denim-clad hip, as if his hands might've gotten a little sweaty.

Were you making him warm? Good.

"So.." Eddie pauses. You catch a glimpse of his face scrunching in thought at the corners of your vision before he continues, "Any big plans for the weekend?"

With how close you're sat, Eddie is speaking almost directly into your ear. There's no need for him to raise his voice to be heard, and you find that the low rumble of it is nice, soothing almost. It curls around your ears and sends something warm shooting down your spine.

"Killing boys." You return dryly, eyes straining now in an effort to remain focussed on what's going on in the backyard.

Eddie snorts, body jolting underneath you with his amusement — And his almost-laughter absolutely does not make your chest flush with pride. You couldn't care less whether or not Eddie Munson finds you funny. As if.

"Oh, so nothing out of the ordinary for you then."

Eddie chuckles and the tip of his thumb finds its way to the place where your thigh presses into his. You can't tell if it's accidental or on purpose, but the gentle press of his finger maybe kind of makes your stomach flip pleasantly, so you allow it. Whatever.

You hum in agreement, "Yeah, well. There's almost always some boy who deserves it."

"I don't doubt it," Eddie murmurs with a wide grin, his head tipped sideways over the back of the couch, cheek nearly brushing your shoulder now, "Anyone I know currently at the top of your list, madame assassin?"

"There is this one asshole." You pause to take a sip of your drink, fighting off a grimace at the awful liquor to juice ratio. "He's loud. And irritating. Just loves getting on my last nerve-"

"Long hair?"

The interruption has your eyes rolling, "Yep. Walks around looking like some Van Halen wannabe."

"Oh, he sounds cool."

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice now.

"Well he's not." You return blankly. "He's always trying to get a rise outta me, acting like a total prick-"

"Hold on, hold on-" Eddie cuts you off again, "Now I'm not so sure we're on the same page. Thought I knew who you were talkin' about, but-"

"Oh, you know him." You grumble, sinking farther into the plush cushion on the back of the couch with your drink clutched to your chest. "You know him well, trust me."

Eddie shifts beneath you, angling both himself and you until he's taking up more of your line of sight than the patio doors. His big brown eyes bore into you until you crack and flick your gaze toward him.

"Here's the thing.." Eddie starts, the pad of his thumb stroking the seam on the outside of your knee. "Maybe this guy's just pushing your buttons because he likes when all of your attention is on him-"

The arm he has thrown over the back of the couch by your shoulder moves then, brushing your hair back from your temple only to backtrack and trail the pads of his fingers featherlight over the space between your brows.

"-Maybe.. Shit, I dunno, maybe he likes the way your eyebrows come together when you're angry-"

Your heart is beating so loud you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. The urge to fidget under his attention is strong, but you sit at still as possible in fear of breaking the spell. You have to strain to hear Eddie's next words over the dull whoosh of your heartbeat echoing in your skull.

"Maybe he thinks you look kinda devastatingly beautiful-"

"You-" And, fuck. Did your voice just crack? "You're trying to tell me you think this guy is, what? Being a dick because he likes me? Pulling my pigtails on the playground and shit?"

Eddie's grin is less cocky than you've ever seen it. His lips twitch at one side of his mouth. He almost looks nervous.

You take a deep breath as his fingers skim over your jaw on their way back toward your hair, where he pinches a small lock between two fingers and tugs twice, oh-so gentle.

"What if he was?" Eddie asks softly, "Being a dick because he likes you, I mean."

"I'd tell you he's an idiot." You manage, plastic cup crinkling under the increased pressure of your hand.

Eddie winces, but nods and averts his gaze. His arm falls to the back to the sofa again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of it beside your shoulder.

"But.." You have to swallow down a smile when Eddie's wide eyes snap right back to yours. "Maybe this idiot's attraction isn't totally one-sided. So, maybe he should stop being an asshole and try making a move."

Eddie blinks. Once, then twice. He squares his shoulders and leans in like he might kiss you, but then he backs off again and searches your eyes as if he's terrified he might be reading the entire situation wrong.

"Eddie." You whisper sharply, "The idiot is you, asshole."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, thank god."

And then his fingers are curled gently around the back of your neck. His hand is fully grasping your opposite thigh as he tries to drag you impossibly closer. His plush lips are pressing softly into your own, the taste of beer mixing with vodka and citrus.

It's a quick kiss, chaste. Your mouths only remain glued together for all of three seconds before he's leaning back just enough to watch you blink at him from beneath heavy lashes. You can't imagine how stupidly docile you look; brows pushed up your forehead, chest nearly heaving beneath your shirt, jaw slack, lips parted and waiting for more. It's pathetic how he's managed to turn you into this with just one G-Rated kiss.

The hand on the back of your neck moves to your face, fingertips tracing the smooth line of your brow before trailing back down to cup your cheek.

"Yeah.. Yeah, this is nice too." Eddie murmurs, "You're awful pretty when you're mad, but this.. This right here is somethin' else."

"You're so annoying." It comes out airy, absolutely no bite to your words.

"Oh, that's not changing, sweetheart. Matter of fact, I think it's a part of our spark. Gotta keep the fire burning, right? I'll keep annoying you, you'll keep getting angry-"

"Would you just shut up and kiss me again?"

Eddie grins, already leaning in, "Sure thing."

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Expect The Unexpected

Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: oral (m&f recieving), some praise, restraint via tentacle, implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms- I think that's it

Genre: Smut, it's smut

Summary: Reading minds makes people much more predictable so of course you're intruiged when the voice inside someone's head is nothing like you've encountered before

***

I don't even understand why we are here Eddie!

Your head snaps around the crowded club you're in. Usually you have no issue blocking out other voices in busy places. If you couldn't, you'd never be able to leave your house as a mind reader. But for some reason, you can hear a gravely voice in someone's head somewhere in this building.

It's too loud in here.

Focus. Where is it coming from? Whose internal voice sounds like that? You have to find the source. Sounds like it's coming from near the bar maybe?

You are infuriating!

It feels like you're hearing half of an actual conversation, but that's not how inner voices work. These have to be someone's thoughts- but why does he speak as though he expects a response? All the other voices sound so normal, you can't tell who he's even expecting to respond to him.

 You listen harder, wait for the voice to speak again, several minutes and nothing. Dammit.

"Babes! I'm gonna get another drink, do you want anything?" You ask your friend Layla.

"Uh- no I'm good." She doesn't even look at you, her gaze is focused on, something across the room. A group of guys.

"It's a bachelor party. Girlfriend, girlfriend, that one's the bachelor, the one in the corner is single, obviously doesn't wanna be here. You should talk to him if you're gonna go over there." You nudge her. Layla's well aware of your abilities and you use them a lot to talk about men when you're out like this.

"Obviously?" Layla frowns.

"Open your eyes girl, besides the three taken men everyone else over there is chatting up someone except him. This isn't his scene, he'd rather be at home... watching some docuseries on Star Wars."

"Star Wars?!"

"Oh don't be like that! He's cute, nerds are usually freaks and built like that there's no way he's not packing." You shrug.

"Y/n!" She gasps, laughing at your honesty.

"What?! It's true! And don't act like you're not thinking about it that's like the whole point of picking up a guy at a bar."

You're so crude sometimes." She shakes her head.

"You're the one looking over there, if you're interested, go talk to him. If not there's a guy over there who's your type and if he's got a girlfriend he's not thinking about her." You tell her.

"If I need a rescue-"

"You know I'll be there to get you out of it." You say. You grab her arm before she can walk away.

"And if you choose to go home with anyone, you let me know before you leave this bar." You warn her.

"Of course!" Layla nods.

"I'll be at the bar listening for your update." 

The two of you split up then and you head to the bar. As you make your way through throngs of people you listen out for possible matches for your mystery inner voice. At the bar there are a few folks sitting on the stools, nursing their chosen poison and you find an empty spot to take up.

"Hey darling, what can I get ya?" The bartender asks.

"I'll have a vodka cran please babes." You tell her.

"Coming up." She nods. You turn to the man next you, sipping an amber liquid and occasionally looking over his shoulder at other people around the room.

"What're you drinking?" You ask him. He looks down at his almost empty glass and then turns to you.

"Jack and coke." He says.

"You big on people watching?"

"What?"

"Just- you seem pretty sedentary here. Usually barflies are people watchers." You shrug.

"I'm just having a drink."

"You gettin another one of those Eddie or are we closing out?" The bartender asks as she slides your drink towards you.

"Yeah I think I'm done Di, close me out." He says.

Wait- Eddie? Did she just call him Eddie? That's the name the mysterious inner voice used. Does that mean that voice came from this guy?!

"Eddie, she called you?" You hum.

"That's my name." He says.

You're being rude Eddie.

Butt out V

She's pretty, I like this one.

Wait- there are two voices! He has two voices? That talk to each other? What's going on here?

That's not why we're here man.

It seems like you just came here to drink which we could have done AT HOME. Talk to her.

What? No.

If I have to put up with the noise and crowd, so you can drink, the least you could do is talk to the pretty girl!

"My name's y/n. Pleasure to meet you." You smile. You have to know more about this strange phenomenon.

I want her Eddie.

She's not a toy Venom.

She's ovulating.

"Dude?" Eddie says this out loud, you're sure he didn't mean to. You're also surprised that the gravelly voice he's arguing with was able to notice you're ovulating.

"Dude?" You blink at him.

"Uh- nothing. Excuse me. I- was clearing my throat."

"What an odd way to clear your throat." You chuckle.

I can smell it on her Eddie. She wants to-

SHUT UP. You're being crude and we don't even know this girl

Well it's not like she can hear me

How lucky she is.

You have to fight the snicker in your throat at that.

"You here by yourself?" He asks. You're surprised he asked a question. Is the other voice... Venom? - actually convincing him to engage with you?

"Ah I came with a friend but she found herself different company." You smile.

Taking the bachelor party boy home tonight!

Layla's voice rings in your head. Good for her. Honestly, you're glad, you'd feel too guilty to leave with your own prey if she didn't have a target too.

"Are you after the same?" Eddie asks.

Oooo good one!

"If good company is to be found." You sip your drink.

"Yeah? How's that going?"

"Well, someone's definitely caught my attention. Still figuring out if he's as interesting as I hope."

"Oh yeah?" He hums.

"Mhm. What about you? Are you here alone?"

"Yeah. For now."

"Waiting on someone?" You ask.

"No but, I think I've stumbled upon some good company of my own." He smirks, hiding it behind his glass.

"Have you, now?"

"I think so."

I think she likes us Eddie! How do we take her home?

Venom, please.

What? We are taking her home aren't we?

I don't know. You're jumping ahead man.

But the point is to take her home. Isn't that what you humans do here?

It's not that black and white V

Her body wants to-

Venom, behave

You want to laugh again. Whoever or whatever Venom is, he's incredibly funny. And the back and forth you hear from him and Eddie feels like watching a sitcom episode.

"I hope this isn't too bold but I find you very attractive Eddie." You tell him.

"Oh- thank you."

Compliment her back!

"You're also very attractive."

"You came here alone, and don't seem all that interested in socializing, so can I ask what you're escaping?" You ask. Eddie chuckles.

"Everything I guess." He shrugs.

"Sounds rough." You muse.

"You have no idea."

DON'T UPSET HER!

"I'm happy to help you forget it all, at least for a while, if you'd like me to."

YES!

Dude don't yell

TAKE HER OFFER EDDIE!

What did I just say man?

"Eddie?" You prompt. You figure if you don't interrupt, he and Venom will continue going back and forth without ever actually making a decision.

"Sorry, lost in thought." He says with a wry smile.

You owe her an answer!

"What does forgetting it all look like with you, y/n?"

"I've got a few ideas, but they mostly require us to get outta here." You say.

"I live down the block." He tells you.

YEEESSSS

"Lead the way then," you lean towards him with a slight smirk on your face "Eddie."

Let's GO!

Eddie jerkily rises from his bar stool and grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd.

Venom chill you have to let me do the moving or you'll freak her out.

You move SLOW

I move normally. You make us move like we're a broken robot

FINE! Just get us home.

You chuckle to yourself as they bicker while walking you out of the club, but you also note Eddie told Venom not to move them? What is Venom? Why can he control Eddie's body? If he can do that then- it's more than just having another voice in his head. Could it be DID? Occam's razor would tell you to assume yes.

It takes about five minutes to walk to Eddie's apartment, and once inside you grab his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. He places his hands on your hips, matching your intensity as you stumble through the apartment.

Hey buddy, bedroom please.

With pleasure!

You barely break the kiss as Eddie, or Venom rather, leads you down the halls until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. You rotate the both of you, and shove Eddie down onto the bed. You climb into his lap and trail your lips down to his neck, planting hickeys along his throat.

You undo his belt and drop to your knees in front of him. You watch his face as you pull his dick out of his pants, wrapping your hand around the base of him and squeezing lightly. He takes in deep breath and you drag your tongue along the length of him.

Holy-

She looks like she's going to eat you alive haha

You wrap your lips around his tip, because if you don't you'll laugh at Venom's words. You bob your head up and down varying the speed based on his reactions. Eddie is mostly breathy moans as you suck him off.

"Fuck you're good." He groans.

I want to taste her Eddie

Dude buzz off

But Eddie!

Venom you are an 8 foot alien, you cannot come out! And quit distracting me dammit

You're no FUN!

How many times do I have to tell you

I'm the reason we brought her home in the first place, it's not fair!

I'm not having this conversation with you right now. And I'm not telling this beautiful woman that an alien lives inside me and wants to fuck her.

An alien? What the hell?

You stand up and take off your clothes. Eddie follows your lead and shucks off his t-shirt and jeans. Eddie adjusts his position so that there's enough room between his legs for you when he pulls you closer to him by your hips.

"I have to taste you." He breathes out. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and buries his tongue between your folds. He groans at the taste of you flooding his senses as he explores you with his mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair trying to steady yourself while he explores your cunt. He practically drinks you and rather loudly and you love every pass of his tongue against you.

She must taste amazing.

Venom

You won't let me out to play but you can't keep me from commenting

Don't be petty man

I am not being petty, I'm just... hungry

Like actually hungry or is this still about her?

The girl Eddie, I mean for the girl.

Hey now, she has a name.

You're impressed he's able to maintain an internal conversation while he eats you out. He's even holding you still, keeping you from squirming as his tongue pulls you closer and closer to the edge. Eddie focuses his attention on your clit and soon, with a loud whine your orgasm hits you.

"You taste so fucking good." Eddie groans.

"Thanks." You chuckle. You drop your leg from his shoulder to straddle him. As much as you want to ride him, you can't let your curiosity rest until you have some answers on Venom.

"I have to ask you something Eddie." You say.

"What is it?"

"Who- or what, is Venom?" You ask. He jolts back, nearly shoves you out of his lap actually.

"W-what?"

"Relax okay, I, I can read minds. You've been talking to someone in your head since we were in the bar. You call the other voice Venom and it seems to have it's own thoughts, and feelings, and opinions- you even argue. I am very curious about it. I've been trying not to- focus on it but I'll admit he's a bit distracting."

HEY!

I don't think she's being rude pal

"I'm not!" You shake your head.

"What?" Eddie frowns.

"I'm not being rude. Sorry if I offended you Venom." You say.

She can hear me?

"Yes I can." You nod.

"And you've been able to hear him this entire time?" Eddie asks.

"Yes I have." You nod.

"I am- so sorry." Eddie blinks.

"Sorry? Why?"

"Well he's not been exactly... couth this evening."

"Oh I- I don't mind what he's been saying. He's kind of funny."

Funny? She likes me Eddie!

Not for long

HEY!

"You're bickering again." You smile.

"Sorry- he's basically an annoying roommate I can't get away from."

That is rude Eddie

Oh shut up

She wants to know who I am, let me meet her

No fucking way

Why not? She can read minds I'm sure she doesn't spook easy and if she tries to run I can always eat her.

"Eat me?"

"He's kidding, he's not gonna eat you- shit- you really can hear him."

"Well yeah, did you not believe me?" You smile.

"It's- pretty unbelievable ya know."

Eddie!

Fine, you fucking nightmare, go on, introduce yourself.

FINALLY!

You're not quite sure what to make of Eddie's angry internal grumble but you don't get a chance to ask him about it. Inky black- something appears out of seemingly nowhere and starts to envelop Eddie. Your eyes widen as Eddie disappears and in his place a large black creature peers at you with huge semi-circles that you presume must be eyes.

If not for his arm wrapping around you, the abrupt difference in size between Eddie and Venom probably would've caused you to fall out of his lap.

"Hi." He smiles at you, revealing large sharp looking daggers for teeth

"Hi, you must be Venom." You say looking at him curiously. He seems to have a similar curiosity as he stares back at you.

"I am. Nice to meet you, y/n."

"Nice to meet you too." You smile.

"You're very pretty." He says.

"Thank you. May I touch you?" You ask softly.

"As much as you want."

Behave Venom!

Ah, so Eddie is still sentient even without being visible.

You reach a hand up and run it along his cheek. He's smooth, slick, cool to the touch, not quite cold or uncomfortable, almost like latex. His cheek even warms against your palm. He even seems to lean into your touch a bit.

"Hm, smooth." You hum.

"Your hands are soft." Venom says. You trail your hand down, across his neck, over his chest.

Don't spook her!

Hey I think I'm being very controlled. 

"And you're- an alien?" You ask him.

"Yes."

"Hm, curiouser and curiouser. And you... are attatched to Eddie?" You continue your path down his arm and find yourself wondering about the functionality of his very large muscles. Are they an asthetic choice? If he can hide within Eddie's body he clearly- has some control over how he looks, is it to intimidate people or is he superhumanly strong?

"Something like that yes." He nods.

"So you feel what he feels and see what he sees?"

"Mostly."

"You convinced Eddie to take me home, sorry if this is crude, but do you have sexual organs?" You ask. You're sitting in his lap, there's no way you wouldn't be able to feel if he had a dick and you can't see or feel anything that could suggest he has one.

"I can alter my form at will. Including the perfect appendage for your enjoyment." Venom pulls you closer to him and something shifts below you. You're pretty sure he's just- grown a penis?

"Oh my,"

"I'm happy to answer as many questions as you have little mind reader, but- I've been wanting to taste you since you sat next to us at the bar and I'm trying not to give Eddie reasons to get all upset about my 'behavior' but you smell intoxicating and I'm struggling to stay controlled here."

"I don't need you to stay controlled."

Whatever you're thinking of doing Venom, don't.

You heard her Eddie, she doesn't care!

She doesn't know you, you could break her!

I don't think she's that fragile Eddie.

She's not fragile you're freakishly strong with poor judgement of what's too much!

You place your hand on Venom's cheek to get his attention.

"Eddie is-"

"I know. I can hear you going back and forth. But I'm not made of glass."

"He thinks I will hurt you."

"Do you think you will?"

"No! I hope not." He deflates a little.

"I don't know you really but if you think you won't hurt me then I'll take your word for it." You tell him.

Control yourself Venom

"I'm an adult, just- let me tell you if it's too much." You say. You don't understand why Eddie is so concerned, and you hope you're not making the wrong choice by giving this very large and possibly dangerous alien basically free reign.

Venom takes a deep breath and suddenly you're on your back in the middle of the bed with Venom creeping up it. Black tentacles wind up and around your body and he opens his mouth wide to reveal a tongue larger than you've ever seen. It practically rolls out of his mouth and between your folds. You gasp. He glides the huge wet muscle heavily over your clit and your body tries to squirm but Venom's tentacles have practically immobilized you.

You groan and arch against his tongue as it rubs your bundle of nerves.

"Even better than I imagined." He grunts. Venom then slips his tongue inside you and the sudden intrusion makes you jolt, but as he stretches you across his snake like tongue you moan loudly. He uses it to explore your inner walls and each movement of it inside you is maddening, you can feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

"Oh god!" You cry, tossing your head back against the pillows. Tentatcles climb up your waist and wrap around your tits, circling your nipples, slow, agonizing, so contrasting to his tongue between your legs that your orgasm hits you. Hard. Your arm snaps up, and you grab the sheets, you writhe- or try to, Venom holds you in place. He's not done. He continues to work you, his tongue carressing your insides.

I want more from her

Don't overdo it

"God, Venom, please! Don't stop!" You pant, grinding against his tongue, chasing another orgasm, drowning in the pleasure.

She tastes so good

Venom continues using his tongue on you, making you cum again and again even after you lose count and your throat is sore from crying out.

V I think she needs a break, it's been over an hour!

Venom reluctantly pulls away from you. He tilts his head, trying to gauge if you truly did need a break. He hasn't had much experience with humans, he doesn't necessarily know their limits.

"Eddie thinks you need a break, are you okay?"

"I'm alright Venom." You smile at him.

Water Venom, get her water.

One of Venom's tentacles flies out of the room and returns a few moments later with a glass of water.

"Drink."

"Thank you." You chuckle taking a sip.

"You're very cute." Venom says.

"So are you." You pat his head.

"You think I'm cute?" Venom's big white eyes widen. Why does he seem so surprised?

"Very." You nod.

Eddie! She thinks I'm cute!

Yeah I heard buddy

I like her! We should keep her.

She's not a pet dude

But I want her to stick around!

I get that, but it's not just up to you, she may not want to see us again

NO!

"I want to keep you." Venom tells you.

Venom!

"Eddie's right you know, I'm not a pet. You can't cage me like a bird." You tell him.

"I don't want you to go."

"I will have to eventually, I have a home, and a job, and a life. But I can come see you again."

"Will you?"

"I'd love to." You nod.

"Then do."

Manners Venom.

"Please." He adds shyly.

"You two are ridiculous." You laugh. You're not sure what's in store for you when it comes to this guy and his alien companion but it's rare something really comes as a surprise to you these days, so you welcome the change.

***

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic yandere concept for Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars, please? Thank you! :>

Yandere! Anakin Skywalker Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Overprotective behavior, Paranoia, Stalking, Violence, Murder, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Isolation, Forced relationship.

I feel Anakin already has a TON of yandere potential... like... in canon...?

Anakin starts off with rather noble intentions.

He's tired of being a slave, he wants to have control.

He just wants to protect those he cares for so they aren't hurt.

He was like that with his mother and Padmé in canon.

He thought he could use the Dark Side to his advantage to protect what he cares about.

Instead the Dark Side used him... He has always been easy to manipulate, a naive soul who just wanted the best for him and others.

Anakin would start relatively normal with his obsession if he likes them romantically.

I would think this would start when he is with the Jedi Order.

He knows he shouldn't fall for you... but Anakin has always been a bit of a selfish person.

Anakin is definitely an overprotective yandere at first who makes a transition over to possessive once he realizes he can't have you.

What really makes Anakin a yandere would be the fact Jedi aren't able to have relationships.

He just can't seem to handle having to leave his loved ones... or change.

Your time with Anakin would be sweet at first.

He always wants to be helpful and protective of you.

He enjoys talking to his obsession as they allow him to be casual when his job does not.

If anything, his obsession gives him temptation.

You, even when you aren't trying to, tempt him off the path of a Jedi.

He can't help but think of you fondly whenever he's trying to focus on a mission.

You're a crush, one Obi-Wan warns can be dangerous if he allows it to develop.

Anakin has never enjoyed being told what to do.

If he's told not to do something, he may just do it anyway.

Anakin would want to meet with you often, always looking forward to being by your side.

It would be a dream if he was hired to be your bodyguard for a mission.

Despite all the risk....

Anakin is a soft protective yandere with you... in the beginning.

He wants you safe because that's his job.

Speaking with you is calming, like all his fears wash away.

His obsession doesn't take a turn for the worst until after the death of his mother and him being manipulated by Palpatine.

Once he realizes the Jedi Order won't help him protect who he loves... and how easy it would be to lose you...

It's fear that leads him to being dangerous.

Since he doesn't want to lose you, as his obsession, it naturally leads to unhealthy desires.

You'd no doubt notice a change in him.

Anakin used to be caring and protective.

Now he's making a transition towards anxious paranoia, manipulative, and possessive.

Anakin feels anything can be a threat... Unless he's strong enough to protect you.

In order to do that... He has to break a few rules.

Obviously Anakin will eventually be a yandere who kills over his obsession.

At first when he uses his lightsaber, he means well to protect you.

He'd never turn on anyone unless they were a threat.

Yet as you watch him get more and more paranoid... He starts turning his weapon on those who aren't threats.

Maybe even killing them if he deems them too close to you.

Anakin's visits are frequent with you.

Even when Obi-Wan tries to reign him in, to tell him you're fine on your own, such an idea seems impossible to Anakin.

I'd argue that Anakin could be considered a delusional yandere at times.

He's convinced his actions, no matter how wrong, are for your own good.

Anakin could commit massacres, manipulate you, and isolate you from others...

Then claim he did it to keep you safe.

He doesn't care what he has to do.

All he cares about is his obsession loving him.

Anakin is someone who is incredibly devoted to you.

He doesn't care if it means stooping low.

The Dark Side has taught him that he needs to be powerful to protect you, the one he loves.

You may not understand what he's doing now... but he hopes you will soon.

Anakin is someone willing to throw everything away if it meant he'd have you in the end.

He no doubt worries you'll befall some horrendous fate if he doesn't save you by doing horrible things.

He also can't comprehend you being scared of him when you see him doing things such as murder.

Why would you be scared of him?

He'd never harm you... right?

Anakin is someone who would get jealous easily.

As a Jedi, he tried to ignore such thoughts.

He knows that feeling envious should be wrong when he sees you speak with others.

You have the right to do such a thing.

And yet... He silently hopes you won't fall for someone else other than him.

As a Sith, he no longer cares about holding himself back.

He would threaten, no, kill anyone who thought they could be near you without him nearby.

He'd coldly claim that said person could've hurt you, then usher you off with him.

You're lucky if he just threatens them, honestly.

In a way, Anakin can be a worship yandere, but he mostly enjoys control.

He wants his obsession to rely on him, he wants to pamper them and be the only one for them.

Unfortunately, such innocent desires are easily corrupted by the Dark Side.

This ends up with you being dragged somewhere by him, claiming he wants a life with you.

You feel you should refuse, after all, this is a man who has killed innocents due to his paranoia.

Unfortunately, that same thinking prevents you from admitting you don't love him... not anymore.

After all, if you said that, he may hurt you.

Anakin will do anything not to lose you.

He watches over you like a hawk, he makes sure you only see him.

He claims this is to protect you.

Although, you can tell there may be more selfish reasons why he's doing this.

He craves control....

If that means locking away the one he loves to keep them safe and all to himself... Sure, he'll do it.

To make up for it, he covers you in kisses and holds you close.

He's a volatile man, you've seen that when he pulls his saber on others.

You've HEARD about what he's done....

It isn't hard to imagine Anakin snapping when he realizes you won't love him.

Maybe you love someone else... or maybe you admit you've never seen him the same since you heard about what he did after his mother died...

Or Order 66....

Perhaps Anakin would kill you in a fit of rage... or maybe he'd delude himself into thinking he can fix your way of thinking?

He needs you to love him...

He can't handle it if you don't... Even if he'd threatened, killed, and kidnapped to have you.

You aren't safe with a man like him... so it's understandable if you run.

But even if you ran and he lost you... You wouldn't be safe, would you?

No, you wouldn't, because you wouldn't be dealing with Anakin at that point.

Darth Vader would take his place, pushed to the edge once he lost you.

He thinks you're dead, he has nothing left.

So, what happens if he finds out you're alive?

I'd argue you'd be in even worse trouble.

Having Anakin as a yandere, if he's allowed to go down the Sith path, is brutal.

Perhaps he would've just stayed protective if he abandoned the Jedi for you?

Yet if we want to stick to canon... there's only two options for you.

You either die by his hands in an accident caused by his delusions...

Or he finds you later as a man more metal than flesh... With him having a newfound determination to prevent you from leaving his side again.

[wordsinhaled]

The things Charles touches in Hell

Everyone run and look at @qwanderer's amazing gifset of the things Charles touches in hell that inspired this meta!!!!

TL;DR Charles' journey to get Edwin is not just retracing Edwin's steps following the maps in the notebook but also on some level specifically reflects the doubts Charles holds about his own capacity to be a good person (and, extrapolating from Edwin's confession, a worthy romantic partner for Edwin in the future). Everything Charles touches in Hell (the mirror in Limbo, the bell, the lock, the claw machine + Maxine grabbing him on the stairs) is designed to sow doubt in Charles - incidentally, much like Orpheus experiences doubt on the journey out of Hell with Eurydice.

-

The mirror

The mirror shows Charles his reflection, which he hasn't been able to see since he died. Jayden said in a Cameo that when he acted in this moment he was embodying Charles giving himself a pep talk about saving Edwin - so he's thinking about whether he is different enough from his father to be able to pull off this rescue, whether he's capable of it.

The mirror also reminds him that, being corporeal in Hell, he doesn't have the capacity to mirror-hop to Edwin, which would have been the easiest way to get to him. It's a tool he'd have had as an incorporeal ghost, a tool that he lacks in Hell. The mirror highlights Charles's need to be Useful to his loved ones and the doubt that if he isn't capable of being useful (especially in rescuing/protecting them), he isn't loveable. Later he says to Edwin "Well, I'm here now," and is able to use the tools in the bag of tricks to distract the doll spider and get Edwin to safety.

And though I don't think Charles is as consciously aware of this bit, the mirror's also a bit of a metaphor for Charles' people-pleasing and how Charles effaces himself in favor of his loved ones. Charles isn't able to be seen in reflections normally, as a ghost, just as he puts the comfort and mood of others above showing his authentic feelings/frustrations, so he isn't "seen" in those relationships. In the mirror in Hell, he can see himself, for the first time in over three decades, and it echoes a fear/doubt that if he shows up fully present in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, he will take up too much space for himself, or people won't like what the see when he is visible.

The bell

The bell speaks to Charles's doubts about impulsivity and its unintended negative consequences. Charles' on-the-spot impulsive decisions are a theme throughout the show - he identifies himself as "the one who does shit like this" in the pilot when possessing Esther. And he compensates for or offsets these things really successfully with resourceful thinking (see: the enchanted jar to replace the sprites' smashed vessel, etc.), and his quick thinking is a huge strength. But the bell here is an example to Charles of a time his impulsivity hurt others, even without him realizing.

Charles and Edwin have an exchange about it: "What about the bell?" "No - it hurts them." Charles experiences direct proof that his impulsive action caused harm to others that he can't fix or soothe, and this moment leads directly into Charles slowing down to take time to process/figure out his feelings for Edwin during the staircase confession rather than impulsively saying he was in love back right away. The bell reflects his fear of how his impulsivity could be a hurdle or liability in his relationships. The bell can also represent the fear that even something that typically makes Charles an asset to Edwin, a strength or a positive, can become something harmful if Charles isn't careful. It's the doubt that Charles' quick thinking, which complements Edwin's more regimented nature and desire to always "have a proper plan in place," could have an unintended harmful shadow side if Charles allows it to, so that he can't trust himself.

Also, the ringing of the bell that is meant to summon someone, much like the mirror, also speaks to Charles' desires to take up space and be perceived by others, and ties back to his doubt that he might take up too much space in a dynamic with someone else. Charles has missed being visible and living, wished to be "seen by someone his own age who's alive." The 'attention' piece might reflect Charles' occasional showiness - which became comfortable over years with Edwin, but which while alive he probably used to associate with negative consequences for himself for taking up 'too much space' or otherwise putting himself in a position where his dad or his peers would 'cut him down to size,' so to speak.

The ringing of the bell at a counter is, in theory, used to seek attention or service from someone, which would also mean Charles knowing what he wants in order to ask for it - and, in a relationship, being able to articulate his desires and needs. It would mean Charles subverting his usual way of being where he makes sure others have everything they need, to prioritize his own wants and needs. It represents his doubt of his ability to be vulnerable in a relationship.

The lock

Irene's phrasing "manipulate for access" about the lock got me thinking about the idea of Charles being able to pick any lock, having confidence in his ability to do so, and even others having confidence in his skill at it ("Big lock" "I'm sure you can open it"). It parallels Charles being good with people, being the one who "everyone likes […] eventually" because he's a "good sort of chap" - but also makes me think it reflects a fear that others will be taken in by the façade of affability he takes care to put on for others' comfort, and make themselves vulnerable to him only for him to hurt them. The classic sort of not-wanting-to-continue-the-cycle-of-abuse type fears.

The bell also highlights Charles's differences from David (who Crystal says "must have lied to [her]" to get her to "let him in" to possess her, as Edwin put it in that same scene). Charles doesn't actually manipulate people for access to their bodies, but it calls back to the doubts he experiences in 'The Case of the Two Dead Dragons' about being compared to Crystal's ex/Brad and Hunter in how they exploited women. The lock also speaks to the doubt that once he has actually gotten someone to like him, or if he were to enter into a relationship with Edwin, they're only there because they've been 'taken in.' Charles knows how to be a "cute distraction" to others or a temporary fling, he doesn't think people should be let in to see the dark emotions at the depths of him that he suppresses. The lock is a bit tied into the claw machine, I think.

The claw machine

The claw machine is associated with grabbing prizes and reflects Charles' self-doubt in general and the ways he seeks praise. It speaks to his issues with feeling fundamentally deserving of love and the fear/doubt that he doesn't actually deserve the "prizes" he gets (being praised by others, or receiving Edwin's love without any expectations or conditions).

It's also a game, and in those types of claw games there's usually a lot of maneuvering the claw, trying over and over and failing to grab the prize, "falling short" if you will, even despite having skill at the game; the prize might slip free and be lost, etc. - much like how Charles always felt he was falling short of his dad and never reaching making him happy/proud ("no matter how nice I was, or how good at sports I was"). When it comes to Charles + games: Cricket was a game Charles excelled at and yet never quite made the mark of his father's approval no matter how many trophies he got, etc.

The claw machine can also be a metaphor for the cycle of abuse. It speaks to the idea that Charles was caught up in a sort of 'rigged game' - an endless cycle of abuse in which his abusers held physical, emotional, social, or systemic power over him and he would inevitably end up 'losing' the game with its uncertain rules and would be hurt (by his dad/his peers or by society). While alive he was playing the assimilation/likeability game with his friends for the prize of feeling belonging, only for them to turn out to be the ones to kill him.

(Notably, the way out that Edwin ended up taking was a hole smashed in the wall behind the claw machine, bypassing the game entirely - and Charles retraces the path Edwin took. This shows how Charles doesn't need to actually keep trying and failing to reach an unattainable/shifting goalpost in order to be loved unconditionally or be deserving of love. It also foreshadows he can take a different path that would break the cycle of abuse, that indeed he is already breaking it.)

+ Maxine

Bonus, since this one touched him and not vice versa - Maxine grabbing Charles on the stairs and knocking him off-balance. In life Maxine was a stalker, an abusive person who was invasive towards and controlling towards her romantic interest. Ultimately she became physically violent and tried to kill Jenny. This has been spoken on in other metas, but much like the Devlin House reflected his fears of becoming like his dad, Charles encountering Maxine on the stairs reflects Charles' basic fears of continuing the cycle of abuse in a romantic relationship and emotionally or physically hurting his partner by being overbearing/controlling/violent. Maxine being present on the staircase during the confession also underscores this doubt in Charles.

[walkingstackofbooks]

A 9-year-old Julian Bashir who has had nightmares about evil doctors in an alien hospital for as long as he can remember. He doesn't tell his parents though because "he's a big boy now" and nightmares are for little kids, so he knows he should deal with them alone. And even if he'd like a hug sometimes, his mum only gives him hugs for doing well, not for doing badly, so he figures there's no point bothering her

A 15-year-old Julian Bashir who realises that the nightmares he used to have were based on the apparently very real alien hospital his parents had taken him to as a kid, and spends hours trying to figure out what were real memories and what his mind had made up over the years as he slept. The nightmares come back with an intensity, but they're nothing compared with how he's feeling when he's awake, and pretty soon they become a normal background noise of his life.

A 19-year-old Julian Bashir who's finally been moved into a solitary room after his third roommate in as many weeks complained about the almost-nightly screams. His advisor asks if he wants to speak to anyone: he claims they're just night terrors and he doesn't actually remember them. Besides, even if he could talk about what was in them, he probably wouldn't, because he's fine - he's used to them by now.

A 24-year-old Julian Bashir who gets woken from his nightmares by warm hands and gentle kisses, and learns what is like to be soothed back to sleep by the soft voice of Palis Delon

A 32-year-old Julian Bashir who has a different nightmare every night. The last year's been difficult. But then, it's been difficult for everyone, and he knows he's far from the only one to be suffering from nightmares at the moment.

A 34-year-old Julian Bashir who can't stop dreaming about the torture he went through four weeks ago, who's missing Ezri and who Miles is increasingly concerned about. When the O'Briens offer him their spare room for a while, he warns them multiple times about his nightmares, and is pathetically grateful when that doesn't change their minds. "We have nightmares too, Julian," says Keiko. "We can cope with yours."

A 34-year-old Julian Bashir who is confused when, three days later, Miles remarks, "You are having a bad run of those nightmares, aren't you?"

"They've been better than usual, actually," he replies awkwardly. "It's been really nice being able to go back to sleep afterwards, for once -- you and Keiko have been so generous in coming and checking on me."

"Course we're gonna come and check on you," says Miles gruffly. "You woke up terrified. We're not letting you do that alone."

"I'd be fine, Miles," Julian reassures. "I'm hardly going to expect one of you to come in every night."

Miles pauses. "...How long are you expecting to have them 'every night' for?" he asks, with some concern. "I mean, after a thing like this, how long does it usually take them to settle down?"

Julian stares at Miles. "I... have nightmares, Miles," he replies, frowning. "Just like you. Nightmares happen every night."

"No, they don't," says Miles, equally confused. "Don't get me wrong, they can do: after something big then sure, they're like that for a few weeks - a couple of months, even. But eventually they fall down to once, twice a week..."

Julian is looking at Miles incredulously. "That might be how it works for you," he says. "I guess my brain's different to yours. Mine don't stop, they just... mix. Change. Get confused with one another, eventually. I've had more dreams about being genetically modified by Sloan in the Dominion camp than I care to remember, you know?"

Miles' concern has turned into abject dismay. "You're saying you've had nightmares every single night since the Dominion took you?" he exclaims.

"Well, maybe not every single night!" retorts Julian, a little unsure what Miles is getting so het up about. "I do have some days when I don't... But yeah, pretty much. I've had nightmares most nights since I was fifteen, it's just how my brain processes stuff."

"Fifteen?"

...

A 34-year-old Julian who finds out that having nightmares every night for two decades is, apparently, "not normal" and something he should be seeking help for.

If Ezri comes back alive, he supposes he might take it up with her.

[hardlyinteresting]

Lemon drops

Jake Seresin x reader

Nights at The Hard Deck just got a lot more interesting.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 1.3K

Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

Friday nights at The Hard Deck are always busy. Sailors and pilots all stopping by on their way home from base eager to let loose, that's to be expected. What he's not expecting is to walk in on a bachelorette party in full swing. 

In a Navy town, it's not completely unheard of for last-minute bachelor and bachelorette parties to fill the local dives, but the larger-than-normal crowd and the young woman dancing on one of the tables has Jake rolling his shoulders back before he settles into the night. He'd been looking for a chill vibe, a cold beer and a few rounds at the pool table. But, he won't complain about a night of flirting, he fancies his odds in a room full of jealous bridesmaids and tag chasers.

Rooster and Coyote seem to have gotten a head start if the empty glasses, or the girls they're helping line up shots at the pool table are any indicator. 

Leaning against the bar Jake waits patiently for Penny to finish making a tray of shots. Lemon-coloured liquid poured from the silver shaker he's so rarely seen used at The Hard Deck, into sugar-rimmed 1 oz glasses. His eyes follow the tray over to the crowd of already tipsy ladies all dressed up to celebrate the blonde in her “bride” sash and tiara. But his attention lingers on the woman who laughs brightly as she raises the tiny glass for a toast. 

“To the bride! I think I speak for everyone when I say that we love you so much, and we're all so excited for this next chapter of your life!” The rest of the party cheers in response, “Now, let's get drunk and start drinking something that's not just sugar”

She's quick to down the lemon drop shot, quickly licking the drip that rolls down the back of her hand. She's sun-kissed and glowing even under the dim overhead lights. She must be from the area, not just passing through. The music is loud and the bar chatter is louder, and she's stunning as she moves her hips to the sound stepping down from the table. She's licked away the sugar rim on the glass by the time she makes it through the crowd to lean at the bar next to him. It's only when Penny sets a beer in front of him that he realizes he's been staring at the mystery girl. 

She's even cuter up close. And for the first time in a long time, he's speechless. Several recycled one-liners rattle around inside his head, but not a single one feels like it's worth the breath. Something about the way she moves through the room, either unaware or intentionally disinterested as several other patrons turn their heads to look her way, tells him she'll have no trouble shooting him down. Regretfully, it only makes him more intrigued. 

And as if she couldn't get sweeter, the scent of her perfume or her shampoo, or the hell if he knows knocks him back. Brown sugar and vanilla. Of course, she smells like sugar. He scolds himself as he replays the image of her pink-tongued and unctuous in her attempt to clean the syrupy glaze dripping across the back of her hand. He may be a self-proclaimed flirt and widely identified playboy but he does do his best to be a gentleman. Despite his attempts to think of church surgeons, or his mother's lectures, geography lessons, or complex aerodynamics, he knows it will be ages before he's able to completely erase the surprising saccharine bar room sight from his mind. 

“Whiskey, please,” she asks Penny, “and thank you for making those shots”.

“For you girls it's no problem,” Penny insists, sliding the glass of whisky across the bar. 

If he bothered to look up he'd catch her raking her own eyes across his form, paying attention to read his name badge, and trace his pins in an attempt to keep herself from ogling his broad shoulders, and strong arms. The khaki uniform does him all sorts of favours. Penny gives her a knowing smirk as she slides the whiskey across the bar.

Unashamed, his eyes follow the intriguing girl back across the room lingering too long on the back pockets of her little denim shorts. 

He's no stranger to wooing pretty girls in bars. He won't brag, but he's got an admirable success rate when it comes to finding a partner for the evening (and he's never heard any complaints). But, something about this girl is different. She's not just pretty, but she's stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way that damn near knocks him off his feet. The way she talks with her friends, and laughs without hesitation has a smile forming on his own face and he feels like a damn idiot for watching her from across the room. She pays no mind to any of the pilots or other patrons who mosey over to shoot their shot with her and the rest of her party, but she accepts every challenge that comes her way at the dartboard and the pool table. 

“What's wrong hangman? Cat got your tongue?” Penny laughs, “I was sure you were going to try to chat her up”. 

The truth is for the first time in a long time he feels like he might be out of his depth. Like a schoolboy with a crush on the new girl in class. 

“The night is still young,” he shrugs. 

But the night flies by, he drinks his beers, and laughs with his own friends, makes his own bets, but never crosses the room. 

She buys her own drinks, and corrals her drunk friends safely into the backs of taxi cabs, calling out for them to text her when they get home. And when closing time rolls around she settles her tab and says goodbye to Penny with a hug, and a reminder that she'll see her later. 

Jake goes home alone, the thought of the sugar sweet girl on his mind. 

When he returns to The Hard Deck next it's a week later. He saunters in with a grin. a bet with Rooster and Phoenix waiting to be won at the pool table, and an ice cold beer with his name on it calling for him. 

He heads to the bar first, leaning waiting to be served when he smells the hauntingly familiar smell of vanilla sugar. He's damn near certain his heart stops when she turns around behind the counter, a megawatt smile on her when she says, “hey, what can I get you?” 

“Whiskey. Neat. Thanks Sugar,” the name rips off his tongue before he can stop it. 

“Coming right up hot shot,” she laughs. 

“It's ‘Hangman’, actually. But you can call me Jake”.

She hums, setting his glass in front of him, “you were in here last week, weren't you”?”

“Sure was,” he confirms, allowing himself to memorize the way she leans back against the middle counter, her arms crossed; so calm and so cool. He suddenly feels the need to swallow hard, his cheeks warming under her directed gaze. 

“You won a lot of money off of my friends,” he offers when she says nothing else. 

She shrugs, “it's a habit I can't seem to break”.

He hopes she never does. Watching Payback and Coyote empty their wallets had been the highlight of his week. 

“Well, maybe when your shifts over,  you can come and try your luck with tonight's crowd, Sugar,” Jake offers. It's a feeble attempt at flirtation compared to his usual routine, but none of his words seem to be coming out right, his mind going blank each time he looks at her in her jeans and white tank top. Thoughts of lemon drop shots, short shorts, and table dancing fill his mind. Suddenly he's 13 again, asking a girl to the school dance with a racing heart. 

“I'm here ‘til closing,” she tells him, saving him from his spiral. She sorts her station and wipe down the bar top, “but don't worry, I'll be able to watch you show off from over here”. 

And with that she gone again, moving down the bar to help another customer. 

Nights at The Hard Deck sure just got a lot more interesting. 

[allfearstofallto]

hello, could I pls have A C I U W for Lyney?

I am still not used to writing for Lyney, but I tried!!

TW: NSFW (MDNI), cum eating, finishing inside, teasing, exhibitionism, humiliation

A ftercare - What they're like after sex

With ecstatic Lyney and his abnormally high stamina, it takes a while for sex to even end. He goes for so long, hours and hours and you just have to take him, growing more and more exhausted after each position he puts you in.

Even after he's done, he's still excitable. As he towels you down, cleaning you off, he'll talk to you about whatever he's thinking about. New tricks he's been working on, places he wants to perform, people he wants to meet. You wonder how he's able to be so lively after what the two of you just did, but you yourself are too tired to think about it. Normally you find yourself falling asleep while his words become nothing but a garbled mess in your ears. You'll wake up cleaned and dressed, with water for you to drink later.

C um - Anything to do with cum, basically

Lyney consistently cums a lot. His first load is always his largest, but that doesn't mean the rest after that aren't big as well. To the point where you struggle to swallow it, let him finish in your mouth and cum will leak out of your stuffed cheeks as you try to gulp the rest down.

He'll sheepishly apologize for how much he's stuffing into you, pretending to make an effort to pull out, but keeping himself balls deep inside anyways. Soft moans will drop from his lips as his cum seeps from your cunt, running down your legs while more pumps into you.

I ntimacy - How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect

So sweet he is in moments that are tender, his lips only spewing mumbles of praise and encouragement. Holding your cheeks so you can look into his eyes, he'll start speaking of how beautiful he thinks you are, how perfect you are for him, how amazing the sex with you is. His honeyed words aren't ploys at all, he means every bit of them, and when you say something kind back, his eyes go wide with joy. The rest of the act is just spent with the two of you praising one another back and forth, cumming over and over until you both grow tired.

U nfair - How much they like to tease

Lyney is a shameless tease, a public one at that. Whether it's just out on the town, or even at one of his shows, he'll still find a way to tease you, having you wet and ready for him when it's time to go home.

Such things over the clothes groping are commonplace to him. As a magician, his touch can be easily hidden as he does these things. Reaching down to hand you something, can be quickly followed by the slight squeeze of your chest, a smack of your ass, even a hand between your thighs. All the while, everyone else is none the wiser. Eccentric Lyney makes it hard to tell.

W ild card - A random headcanon for the character

It's a tragic thing that something like humiliation turns Lyney on. Performing everyday means he's not as susceptible to things such as embarrassment. But he knows that when he feels it, his cock grows harder, begging for attention.

This leads to nights where Lyney will make you watch him. It's not the typical performance you'd get from someone like him, but it's something regardless. A small stage would be rented out late at night, doors locked so it was only you and he inside and just like usual, he would walk up on that platform and perform. Only, this time, in the dark of night, he'd be naked.

Lyney would try to get through his set, completely bare before you, your eyes seeming to take in every piece of his body. He knew he couldn't perform without his clothes, but the sight of you out in those seats, with the lights beating down on his nude body made him tremble. He'd cum long before his show was over, spilling his seed all over the floor in front of him, the shame he was feeling only making his dick harder.

[fizzy-blood]

Coral again 🪸🫡

Tim / Masky nsfw headcanons PLS

Tim & Masky Headcanons🌲 [NSFW]

I ACCIDENTALLY HAD THIS POST DELETED TWICE AND I'M GOING INSANE!! Also, you're the first anon I've had that named themselves so congrats on that ^_^ also gn reader/'S/O'. Thank you so much for sending in two asks! I'll post the first one when I can <3 /p

WARNING: NSFW/18+ CONTENT [Breeding kink, spanking/hitting, orgasm denial, mentions of degrading, kinda public sex? Gun violence!!(Yay!!!/s)]

Tim

I'm gonna be honest with y'all... He's kinda vanilla.. Not that there's anything wrong with that ofc... But I know this fandom is full of freaks (ME INCLUDED)

But I do think he has some sort of breeding kink

Idk man but the idea of getting his S/O (you) knocked up just does something to him (even if that's not possible)

I feel like he would have wanted kids at some point in his life and the idea of getting you pregnant probably helps with that... Even if raising a child would be kinda impossible with his current situation...

Now... I'm gonna be honest again... He isn't super big...

It's average size so around 5 inches (12-13 cm for my fellow maple syrup drinkers... Also other non American folks)

But he's definitely got more girth than the average person!

And he's also surprisingly good in bed? Like??

He's very sweet and tries his best to be gentle (but sometimes gets a bit rougher when he's close)

If you want him to be rough or go faster he will... But he'll be asking if you're ok immediately after you both finish! (Aftercare with this man is 🤤 but more on that later)

And I did say he was very sweet so I guess I should just specify that he likes to praise you

It's very sappy for someone who's normally kinda rude to everyone but it's still a great experience!

Though he doesn't really like to shave or trim to often... But if you asked really nicely he'd probably do it a bit more often (I love hairy men 🗣️)

Masky

But Masky on the other hand? Ha! He'd spit in your face and tell you to keep quiet while he pounds into you... (... Me next... OMG WHO SAID THAT!?)

But seriously... This guy will barely talk during sex, but when he does it's almost always to degrade you or order you around

And if you don't do as he says there are two punishments

The first one only works if he had any control over you being able to finish up and cum

Aka, orgasm denial!

He'll do what he wants to do and just leave you in whatever state you're in

And if not? If he can't control you like that?

Spanking!

Now, he prefers to use his hand but will use a paddle or some sort of object if he has one nearby

But again, normally uses his hand for it

He'll force you to bend over his knees or lay across his lap so he can do it properly

He also likes making you count how many

And if you mess up? He'll start over and make you count again...

Also... Kinda unrelated but this guy loves fucking you in the middle of the woods for some reason?

Against a tree or on the ground... Doesn't really matter as long as you're outside...

And yes, a hiker did come across it once... The guy almost immediately got shot by Masky

Speaking of getting shot! He almost immediately put the guy to your head with the safety off while he was fucking you. No, he did not apologize!

Over all kind of a lot... Not bad if you're into being used like that though...

After care!!

(Masky doesn't really do aftercare so this is all Tim)

He'll lay with you for a bit before slowly getting up and stretching

After that he'll look down at you and ask if you need water or food or maybe even a bath..

If you feel like you're struggling to walk he'll try to carry around his cabin or your house (depending on where you guys were)

If you have a bath he'll sit next to the tub and talk to you, making sure you're alright and everything

And if you ask him really nicely he might even join you in there!!

After that he'll help you dry off and take you back to bed to sleep (and cuddle)

Aftercare is a 10/10 experience honestly

AHHH! FINALLY DID IT! (And I actually really liked this one) thank you again for sending in the ask and I hope you enjoyed this ^_^ and again, asks are open

-Fizz

[Also! Pill/cigarette dividers by @sister-lucifer ]

[webslingingslasher]

jbae!! if you're taking requests, can I ask for something with trouble comforting peter? maybe he's had a terrible week and loads of things pile up and he just collapses (maybe he even cries out of frustration cause I'm a sucker for that) and trouble just holds him to her chest and runs her hands through his hair 🥺 only if you want to though!! have a great day ily

*you always ask when peter knows he's in love with trouble...* (cleaning out my drafts)

peter's been m.i.a. all day.

rumor is he skipped class and slept past breakfast... and lunch. the unanswered texts you have string along with the theory. you were talking to peter last night so you don't think he's sick, at least not with a cold.

he'd been pulling back the last few days because he's been so busy. you haven't seen him in three days because of a test or a frat meeting or dinner with his aunt - in your opinion, he's spread a little too thin and you think that caught up to him today.

if peter can cut class and hang out at the frat house so can you. unsure if he's taking another nap. you're not risking a phone call that'll wake him and settle for a quiet entry with slow steps up the stairs before silently opening his door and sliding in.

peter's not asleep; he's awake and staring at his ceiling. he knows you're here but he can't bring himself to make believe happy. so he doesn't.

you softly shut his door and rest your back on it. 'do you have a case of the sads?' peter stays in his starfish position for way too long, you think he's building the courage to speak for the first time today. when he does, it's raspy and riddled with depression.

'i have a case of the sads.' even saying it makes him want to curl into a ball. it's times like this he wishes he was home and still small enough to crawl into his aunt's bed.

you've never seen peter this depleted, all spark in him has fizzled. 'do you want to cuddle?' you don't need to ask what's wrong, you already know. and you're getting the feeling he really just wants silent company.

peter sits up to open the space next to him, he's not moving until you're settled because he's about to rest his entire weight on you. the second you steal his spot, he lays on top and buries his face into you while you warmly accept the pressure.

peter only hides in you like this when he's sick or really tired. you don't say anything while you gently tuck a curl behind his ear, you lightly smile and graze the outer edge with your finger- a small twitch tells you he doesn't like it.

normally, you'd double down. today, he needs nice.

'you have cute ears.' it's barely above a whisper, 'i should see them more often.' peter doesn't respond, you didn't need him to.

it's a peaceful quiet, you think it's nice just being in peter's presence sometimes. you keep dragging your hand up and down his back, you're trying to tell him he's okay with your touch. your other combs through his hair over and over, you think he might be falling asleep and you gladly welcome it.

you're not sure how peter's breathing he's tucked into your chest so tight, but as long as he's able to you won't complain. you start to trace little squares over his skin while slightly zoning out on a bird on his balcony collecting what looks like twigs from the overhanging tree.

your shirt feels like it's clinging to you, peter's washing his hot breath into it. you change your shapes to squiggles. the bird hops around, another twig is scooped up. you glance down at your chest and stop your hands.

it's not just choked breath.

'are you crying?'

the floodgates burst.

peter digs into you, holding you so tight you almost wheeze. his shoulders shake as he sobs into you, your heart shatters as he breaks down. peter's never cried in front of you and it's fucking terrible to see.

you don't know what to do, you just act on instinct and try to wrap your arms around him like he always does to you. it always makes you feel protected and secure, it makes you feel like peter's a safe place and nothing can hurt you in his hold.

'you're okay, petey.' you're saying it for the both of you. 'you're okay.' peter thrashes his head back and forth, he doesn't agree. you steady him and say it again. 'you're okay, i promise you're okay.'

it's a little weak because you don't feel like you're fixing much but it always helps when peter says it.

'i'm here. you're gonna be okay because i'm here.' you hear a trumpet in your mind when peter crawls further up to tuck his head under your chin. it's working, you're doing good.

peter's never cried in front of a girl before. his aunt doesn't count and neither does- he doesn't let his mind go there, he's already spirling hard enough.

but you're warm and soft and really fucking loving and it's making him cry harder because it's all he wanted today and you showed up with an abundance of it.

you're crushed at the sound, if you could suffocate the sad out of him you would've already done it. 'please don't throw yourself into a panic attack.' he wasn't going to, but now that you said it he thinks he's approaching that territory quickly.

you can sense it too. you press him closer and breathe deep, his head sinks with your chest. 'do one with me.' it's weak and followed by a cough.

'one more.' he mimics you, it's better this time. peter does the third on his own, you praise him with a back rub. 'see? you're okay.' the smallest of nods, a short stutter of breath and he's sniffling to hold more in.

'let it out. you broke yourself to get to this point, let it out.' it's another wave but it's not as brutal, it's bordering on the verge of pitiful. 'you're not allowed to do this to yourself anymore, peter. i didn't say anything but next time i will. you can't stretch yourself like this, it isn't healthy.'

'i'm sorry.' he doesn't know if he's sorry for crying or for making you care this much. it's a blanket statement, he thinks. you won't let it be one. 'don't you dare say sorry. there's nothing to be sorry about.'

peter can't fathom why, but he almost spews out an i love you and it terrifies him. he feels it in his chest, there's a level of care and affection you're giving him that he's never had before. if he knew he was dying, he'd do it right here in your arms.

peter's never felt safe in another person's hold before. you'd protect him at all costs, even from himself and you just proved it. he needs to see you, he needs to see the face he calls home. he needs you to smile softly at him like he's your world because he promises this time he'd do the same.

you do exactly what he wishes and he feels a pang to his heart when you lightly wipe under his cheeks. 'are you all cried out? if not i'll bully you into more.' god, he wants to swarm you with a thousand kisses.

'i'm okay now.' he hovers over you, an arm on each side of your head. you accept a tiny kiss where your neck and collarbone meet, it's a delicate marking. 'good, you needed it. you also need to eat, and please tell me you had some water today. i'll make you anything you want, or i'll buy you dinner- anything you want, you deserve good things when you have a case of the sads.'

you don't recognize the look on peter's face but it makes you a little self-conscious, you might be a tad overbearing. 'why are you looking at me like that? am i being a little over the top?'

he's still wearing it. 'not at all.' you feel good about it, you're sticking to your guns about standing up to him if you need to. 'okay, good, because even if you said i was, i wouldn't care. i know you're mr. big strong tough man but i swear you need someone to check you sometimes because you get-'

'i really need to kiss you right now.'

you stop yourself and blink at his words. 'oh.' your cheeks feel warm, you nod one time before peter's pressing his bottom lip to your top one and lowering himself until his chest brushes yours.

it's a different kind of kiss, there's nothing behind it except just wanting to do exactly as he said. a cluster of pecks before he pulls back to look at you, you can't place what he's thinking.

'what?' peter shakes his head before going in for another, after the third time he'd failed to remove himself from you, you stop him. 'i don't care how many times you kiss me, mister. you're not getting anything until i see you eat something.'

funny. your request just makes him want to kiss you more. 

[moonsaver]

hi hi double yandere anon again -- thought i'd put this in a separate ask :] this is only if you wanna write it, but normal sunday with a yandere reader is giving me some great thoughts. like, reader flipping the script on him, usually so composed and with everything in control, and sunday has to deal with being entirely at their mercy. idk having usual character dynamics reversed is always fun to me, so! again tysm and have a great day!! :}

Hello anon! Since both of these inbox messagws are from you, hope you dont mind that i coupled them lol. Sorry it took so long for me to respond. Im glad to know you liked that piece!

Anyways, this is a very interesting dynamic in my opinion..

Sunday x yan!reader.....

Listen. You might actually be able to convince him to a degree. Lets be for real, this man is probably STARVED for some good loving. But like almost all hsr characters, he'd be unnerved by it at first. The most repulsive situation isn't the fact you're obsessed with him, but rather that he doesn't have control over this situation. You, somehow, do.

Sunday himself is a bit.. intense in my opinion. He's had his fair share of suitors, but most likely not many or any lovers at all. He's isolated to a degree, and doesn't feel like he's desperate for love.

But when yan!reader shows up, proclaims having oh so much love for sunday.. it turns the cogs in his head a bit.

Our dear yan actually has a good chance of winning Sunday over, depending on how you might present yourself inititally. It's like when you finally get a taste of something you didn't want, but realise you've needed almost your entire life.

He's reluctant, as.. minorly expected? But not for the reasons he should be. It's the control factor that's holding him back. His secondary concern is actually more logical – he doesn't know you. And it does unnerve him slightly when you give him the tip of the iceberg of how much you might know.

But, somehow, someway, if you manage to render Sunday unable to defend himself, or kidnap him, or strip him of his reliable abilities?

Boy he is freaking. Out.

He's speaking with a strained voice, his eyes almost blown wide open, his breathing is heavy, slow and shallow, as he desperately tries to stay calm, but every alarm in his head is about to burst from the signals at the loss of control. He's like a rabid dog that's shown a glass of water. Almost snarls at you. Hates hates hates this situation so much, and it's not too soon before he settles quietly with a glare, his mind working relentlessly to weave out of your trap.

But it's a strange pull. He protests and threatens you when you even try doing something – even if its harmless and he would allow you to outside of this situation. But then you wear him down, and you're so gentle with him. You kiss his face and hold him so close and warmly, you listen and even understand his ideals when he talks about them to gauge your personality. This feels as though it's the first time someone truly sees him – scary as it might be, to lay bare all your self, but the very fact you can love him so well makes him.. delirious.

Oh, but he still despises you (for the lack of a stronger word) because of the control aspect. However, instead of planning a heavy punishment for your crime of kidnapping him after he finds a way out.. he may form other methods of payback.