#i just think it's shit that they always try to play one on me and forever treat me like the youngest one in the family

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog w/ jeong yunho

pt2

you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell

the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring

unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night

after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’

the family that live upstairs aren’t great either

the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on

your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you

they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face

usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them

they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point

it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord

not exactly a threat, but not not one

maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day

you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him

“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”

mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time

he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car

it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though

“what about a guar—”

“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”

it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend

“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”

again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole

“i can’t aff—”

“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”

it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious

perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue

“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”

he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit

you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it

“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”

“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in

“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer

he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation

still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence

a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep

nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation

and then your doorbell rings

you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google

you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour

not anyone you recognise for that matter

your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face

a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention

that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open

“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you

“who are you?” is the only response you can

“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place

mingi, that bastard

“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with

“well, someone did.”

he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him

maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home

they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own

it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people

it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling

you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand

“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him

“yunho,” he sighs

it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself

one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…

seriously, fuck song mingi

“well i’m—”

“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”

you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn

something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to

“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”

“how dare you, i—”

“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child

it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back

there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here

“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer

he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head

“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”

“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”

“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”

it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname

if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little

“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously

“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”

he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes

you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you

“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”

[thumperdaetime]

the music is punk because it challenges the norm. the clothing is punk because it challenges the norm. the politics are punk because they challenge the norm. it's not a sound, or a look, or a book, or a slogan. it's a way of thinking that puts radical acceptance and relentless pursuit of joy, face to face with a world that wants you dead. you can't put a price on it. the disabled woman that says "fuck it people know I can't hold my blatter anyway. I don't care if they can tell I'm wearing the rehab-provided brief. Get me my bright lipstick I'm going to bingo!" is flexing the same muscles as the suburban white boy who steals eyeliner from his conservative mother. they are both people using identity, to create joy and signal comradery in lonely times, reputation be damned.

not to mention, all of the clothes I have been able to afford new when I was in my poorest moments were shit quality anyway. anything you can do to extend the lifespan of a physical object that was made under the modern fast fashion system past "thrown out, unsold at the store" is a win. in the same way that any pressure you can keep against an actively bleeding wound is a win. cloths are a common class of tools we use to help regulate our comfort, with that is with the temperature or our cave-mates. if the clothes make you feel uncomfortable they are already useless. it is already trash. why not try anything to see if it works? there are intelligent capable people across the centuries who died dreaming of what to do with once gorgeous expensive trendy fabric, that will now look dated and trashy outside of "the spring of '32 when i fell in love with jazz." or whatever the kids are into these days. the stupid walmart blazer you took a chance on 2 years ago but now feel "too X to wear" is no different. either you trash it now, or live with that trash in your home until your kids do it for you, while crying about how they always thought you looked good in that color. you might as well see if there's enough fabric to re-make that halter top you loved in college. when it looks homemade you get to boast and explain all about how you're trying to make shit better in little ways. and who cares if it fails? Aren't you deserving of a little petty violence? when the last time you really didn't give a shit about seam Ripping and just went to town? don't you want to be able to yell at something with no moral consequences? so much in this world is complicated and nuanced and requires forethought and responsibility. Wouldn't it feel nice to have a hobby that lets you get reasonably angry at evil fabric for not doing the thing, and then you can just throw it and swear, and then never have to think about it again. because it doesn't matter. it was already cheep plastic made to feed a system that would rather watch the world burn than lose a shareholder. you eat credit cards a year. you can not hurt wasted disposable plastic more than it will hurt you.

and then if it works you have a cute top to wear around places to show you are the kind of person who has cool tops! and help you ease people into the idea that a political movements starts with people deciding what things they inherited they actually want to keep around. and then maybe one day you cut apart and re-make out of nice quality fabric, with the mistakes you learned from the first one. so you can weaponize your ability to present yourself as ""respectable"" when you have to play the politics game in big official ways.

or (imagine this) you can even use your new knowledge of what types of edits you often make to clothing to buy a quality garment that will be more worth investing in. Ones that are made in ways that add value to their communities will feel good on your body from day one, and you can be mened and adapt in ways that may let it outlive you.

or maybe you elevate that shity, guilt ridden- shirt out of the gym lost and found on the last day of freshman year, because "fuck it- I liked that middle-school library fit. and Its a size too small but I'm bound to get thinner eventually. and I don't think its actually stealing if no one else wants it." Maybe if you make it into a statement piece scrap in your favorite "look I'm not happy about it either!" outfit, to show that you want to fuck with the systems in a "hey we should still have A Library tho right?" sort of way. you might run into the middle school girl who gets to break the ice with a fellow "cool garment person" friend. and she gets to laugh about your shirt deadnaming her. and you get to apologize and offer to let her sign something over it. and now you are advertising the formative art of a local queer-punk-artisan who you know is also out there trying her best to make the shitty stuff a little less shitty when they can, even if it means learning how to thread a sewing machine.... eventually.... hopefully.

also, as a person who has spent about a decade trying to figure out ways to keep kids of all ages informed and prepared and enriched on a budget. "Tug of War turned tie-dye Party" would of been a smash hit, my queer and rural in the 90's type parents would have loved it. after growing up with Halloweens filled with pieced-together costumes that made room for sensory issues and accessibility aids. and family "vacations" taken on public land with what's left of the food stamps. i think there is definitely a market for how to teach your children the fundamentals of serving in a world that might find their misery profitable. without like... terrafing them.

imagine how much easier alot of it would have been if someone early in your life had sat you down and said "ok. a lot of times things are going to be bad and unfair and evil. and there's going to be complicated reasons you cant do much about it but feel bad. but if you feel bad all the time it will only get worse. so what you can do is take what is around you, figure out what it is and how it works and why it's there, and then break it in ways that are meaningful and delibrite. and re-shape it to help the actual people who are trying survive."

then they showed you and all of your little friends how to research, what fabric is and understand why you bought supplies, and then get their hands dirty testing how strong it is, and why jeans have rivets even when you want to sew right there. and re-asure them that it's ok you paved the way to make sure they can't hurt anything too bad even if they are really really bad at it. and then let them find joy and pride in making something unique and custom with their own tools for the cost of cleaning out a closet, and some rite dye.

and then the community has a couple new little baby punks making decent folks smile with little bold fashion statements, and turning heads when they experiment with which parts of society they want to bring into the new age. tl;dr: I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers. -polyamorouspunk, November 2024, tumbr.com

I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers.

[hoshifighting]

I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️

staff!woozi

WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.

staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.

you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”

you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”

he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.

he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”

“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.

“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.

“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.

he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”

staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.

“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”

he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”

staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.

“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.

“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.

he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”

his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.

staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.

but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”

you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.

he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”

“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”

next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.

staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.

so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng

“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.

he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.

when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.

you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.

it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.

but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.

“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.

“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.

staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.

but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.

and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.

woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.

staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.

you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.

you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”

he glances over, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”

“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”

you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”

he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”

you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”

you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”

your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.

he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.

you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.

“so… you heard that?”

his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.

“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[kkayyerr]

Mean! Rafe with pogue! Reader when she regresses like how is he? Is he gentle? Does he tease? Those kinds of things, thank you xx

I got you!

I loooove writing headcanons.🫶🏻

Warnings: Age regression, Dark!Rafe, controlling behavior, manipulation, slight abuse.

– He would probably first met you when you would visit his sister. He knew that you were one of the Pogues, but it wasn’t what he found interesting about you.

– Your behavior wasn’t usual for a Pogue. You were quiet, shy and somewhat childish. Somehow he didn’t found you as annoying as the rest of them, he enjoyed observing you quietly, analyzing your behavior.

– Rafe won’t admit his interest in you to anyone, especially not to his sister, always making snarky comments about you when talking to her.

– „What is she, a five year old?”

– He wouldn’t mind saying things like that to your face, laughing when you will give him a pouty face, that he would secretly find adorable.

– „What was that, little girl? Too sensitive to handle a small tease?"

– But when he would first saw you in the fight that his friends started with Pogues, he would push you to the side, holding you in his hands, so you won’t get hurt. He would find a lot of excuses about that later, when his friends would confront him about being soft to the Pogue.

– Rafe would probably give you a little smirks every time he would see you at his house or somewhere else.

– When he would find out that you are regressed, he would wait for the perfect opportunity to ask Sarah to babysit you for her, and when that opportunity will come, he would make sure that there’s only you and him in the house. He would also make sure that this would be the last time you were talking to Sarah.

– „You know, I’m not like your friends, kid. I actually care about your well-being.”

– He would play with your mind, making you actually believe everything he said.

– „Baby, you’re too precious to think about that Pogue’s shit. Just let me take care of you, alright?"

– Soon enough, the brave Pogue girl will become daddy’s little doll.

– „No one will take care of you better than I do, baby.”

– He would make sure that you are way too eager for his attention and affection to actually leave, or even think about going back to the Pogues.

– Rafe would teach you manners, watching as you slowly turn into the true Kook, because he would be damned if he would let his baby’s brain being stuffed with that Pogue’s bullshit.

– He would dress you himself, adoring your little pink outfits and small ribbons in your hair, that he would braid himself.

– Everytime you would ask to see your friends he would just change his manner to the cold one, and watching as you slowly forgetting about wanting to see them, now crying because of lack of affection.

– „I told you baby, I don’t want you around your friends no more, they are bad influence. Let’s just go to the Topper’s house, yeah?”

– You won’t say „no”, because you know that there will be consequences for you.

– He won’t be using physical punishments. He would just left you alone when you will need him the most, waiting for you to come begging for forgiveness, hoping for at least crumps of his love.

– His favorite words are „yes, Daddy”.

– Rafe wouldn’t hesitate beating the shit out of the Pogues right in front of your eyes, if they would try and talk to you.

– When you will start crying because of the shock he would just hold you close, being much gentler than he usually was.

– „Daddy just wanted to protect you, baby”.

– You would never question his actions, because „Daddy always knows better”.

– Always.

[tsumey]

fem. reader, not proofread, 815 words

miya atsumu has a problem.

well, multiple problems. but all his problems boil down to the teacher’s assistant in his physiology class.

it was annoying how she’d always hold him back after lectures to remind him of his deadlines, how she’s always up his ass about his test scores, and how she’d never fail to mention tutoring for him.

he doesn't need a tutor, his grades are average! and besides, he didn’t get a scholarship to be a star student, he was asked to be there to play volleyball, dammit.

his friends tease him about his academic performance, which further annoys him because again, he is not failing! he’s only missed like….five deadlines..but he still managed to submit them after a week!

he doubts he’s the only one falling behind in class, so why does that damn ta always single him out?

“i don’t know why you’re complainin’ so much ‘bout her. it sounds like you’re her problem more than anything.” atsumu pouts at this, his stupid brother doesn’t know anything.

“you don't understand. she definitely has it out for me. i don’t remember doin’ anything to her but she definitely has a grudge against me.”

sunarin chimes in, “y/n? sweet little y/n? grudge isn’t in her vocabulary, you’re just stupid.”

“and how would you know? you friends with her or somethin’?” atsumu rolls his eyes at his friend. god, even when she wasn't around, she still manages to put a sneer on his face.

“nah, we’re just cool like that. we were in a group project for biochem.” 

“let me guess, she was all strict n uptight about your part.” he has a smirk on his face, confident that y/n was as bad to suna as she was with him.

“easiest person to work on a project with.” suna counters atsumu’s smug look with his own. 

atsumu reacts to this by groaning loudly and frustratedly pulling his hair while osamu and suna snicker.

“remember, midterms are next week!” the professor’s reminder gets drowned by the noise of students’ chatter as they go bustling out of the lecture hall. atsumu scurries out with the rest, already dreading the coming week. his eyes narrow as he nears the exit, spotting his biggest headache by the doors, seemingly waiting for him. 

he lets out a loud sigh when he hears you call out his name before he could even try to blend in with the other students. he quickly wipes off his irked expression and mustered up a polite smile. 

“hey atsumu, sorry for holding you up again. i just wanted to talk to you about something.” you gave him a smile that looked sweet, and he wasn’t used to sweet.

atsumu raises a brow at this. now why in the world are you smiling like that when you’re probably just going to scold him again for his missing work?

“what did you want to ask?” he couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive, this was certainly not how he expected you to greet him, all smiley and upbeat, a stark contrast to your usual serious attitude towards him.

“so as you know, midterms are coming up,” atsumu internally sighs and braces himself for the usual words that were going to come out of your lips, “and i was wondering if you’d like to study together.”

now this. this is definitely not what he was expecting at all. his brows shot up at what he heard, “you mean you wanna tutor me?”

“no, not like that!” you chuckled, “just studying, but like, with the two of us.” you awkwardly explained.

is she asking me out on a date? a study date? is what atsumu thought, because his mind was so boggled that you, the annoying ta, was asking him, miya atsumu, if he wanted to study for midterms together.

“uh yer askin’ me?” his accent accidentally slips out, a telltale sign of just how puzzled he was. “i mean, yer askin’ me ‘cuz of my shit grades, right?”

your smile gets wider, perhaps too wide, but atsumu’s not surprised any more so than he already was. he watches as you erupt into a fit of giggles at his question. it’s cute, he thinks. you’re cute, when you’re not bugging him about school. he could finally see your charm, now that he actually looked at you with his mind quiet of disgruntled thoughts of you.

“no no, you’re actually doing very well recently. i know we have some classes together so i just, y’know, thought i’d ask.” atsumu sees your wide smile ease into a more bashful one. just when he thought you couldn’t get prettier. you really are full of surprises, and atsumu is so pleasantly surprised.

atsumu releases an amused breath and flashes you his famous grin, “sure, i’d like that.”

“meet me in the library later?”

“great, its a study date.”

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

More DSB headcanons (because I wanna)

- Cardinal is either surprisingly docile or incredibly violent with criminals/rogues/villains. No in between

- Tim will just mail random shit to people he doesn't like (rats to Ra's, roaches to Lex, a card that tells the Joker to "fuck off and die in an alley")

- He has run into Lady Shiva at some point and has surprised her with the fact that he knows some of her moves (idk if you know but he trained with Lady Shiva for a little bit in canon)

- His accent switches on occasion to something totally random

- He gets weirdly calm during rogue attacks, and it freaks the Batfam out because "how the fuck can this bratty rich kid do this so well???"

- Not specifically DSB but he plays Project Sekai because it helps with hand eye coordination

-🎭☕

(no this is definitely not because I saw the post that you had 11 asks and I wanna change that)

OHH Love these- and thank you for filling my ask box, always appreciated <333 ____________________

True! Though Cardinal doesn't actually deal with rouges as often (the bats are always quick to cover that front and they try not to cross work paths unless nessicary, aka why the riddler fight was so far "from the usual") They are the silent hand behind the scene, and the ocassional "ghost of christmas future" like with Arthur.

The most "docile" Cardinal is, is towards Catwoman where they will pop in on her mid robbery, just stare for a sec- and then dip. And the most agressive probably with Black Mask/Joker (which yall will see eventually :) ______________________

Not something I considered before, and id say Tim has definently fucked with old foes for the hell of it- BUT he does specifically avoid anything close to the leauge, The last thing he wants is to be on Ra's radar on top of all the other bs he deals with.

But mailing bananna cream pies with small explosives to a joker hideout?? Yes. ________________________

YES- I actually touched on this a little bit (the training not the meeting) but I do think they've run into eachother. But that Shiva, unlike most of the other villains/antagonistic characters- seeing behind the mask? She was interested- but left it alone

MUCH to Tims utter relief. __________________________

Yes. Elaboration not needed, though I will say he rarely slips up when hes "in the zone" but relaxed?? You best believe he's suddenly french ________________________________

Actually? Kind of normal for Gotham- I find it wild that growing up in a city with like a 40000% higher than natioal adv crime rate, that you ARENT in some way numb to it all.

Its less common in the elite because well, they have money to stay away from it all. But its not TOO out there- its just that "Huh guess Timothy is one of us more than we thought??- wild" _____________________________

Tim is like me in the sense of "cant-play-games-alone" or else painfully aware of every milisecond ticking by that you arent being "productive" (exception being minecraft)

But game night @ Obis?? You best believe that Alan is a GOD at beat saber, and show him Project Sekai??? Hes going to make it a personal challenge ____________________________

[boytearscore]

his obsession, her control. — matthew sturniolo.

summary: because ever since he met his brothers' best friend, he hated her to the core by the way she dressed, talked and presented herself. he thought she was just an attention seeker while claiming to be the only immune guy to her dirty games. that is until the morning chris and nick decided to go out and get groceries by themselves, since matt himself refused to drive them to target, he was left all alone with her, unfortunately for the blue eyed boy, his strong belief of being an exception when it comes to fall for her dangerous charm was completely erroneous.

warnings: swearing, teasing/arguing (matt being a jerk mostly), enemies to lovers but sort of he hates her while she finds his tantrums amusing, smut, bratty!matt, blowjob, facefucking, foreplay, agressiveness and a lot of dirtytalk.

author’s note: before y’all start to hate me, i came home from work yesterday and had NO wifi nor data to post the chapter. still, i apologize for the delay. also, comment and tell me what you think about this new plot, the main character is gonna teach you that just because a girl is dominating, doesn’t mean she can’t play the submissive role to get her ways faster. ;)

chapter one.

the girl sighs slowly spreading her legs over the couch, it’s been only ten minutes since chris and nick left and she already felt like melting with boredom, not finding anything or anyone interesting to see or text on her phone.

her eyes shift slowly around the house, stopping right at the door slightly open of matthew’s room, her best friends’ annoying brother. it’s been years and she still didn’t believe they were triplets, how can matt be so awfully different from them? usually she doesn’t interact much with him except when he gives her disappointing and judging glares while they’re both in the same room. instead of angering her, she always finds it amusing and always provoke him until he’s red with anger.

that’s when the brilliant idea pops up in her pretty little head, what if she breaks into matt’s room to make him absolutely lose his shit? that’s enough to entertain her while her best friends are out for a couple hours, right?

while tiptoeing and holding a mischievous laugh, she peeks through the gap to study her target. matt is resting, laying on his bed with hair falling over his eyes and still wearing his pyjamas even though it was afternoon, his arm behind his neck making his muscles visibly flexed by the position, at the same time the other one is placed over his stomach, scrolling on his phone peacefully. 

she stares at his tattoos and the veins of his arm, it wasn’t a secret matt was attractive, in fact, she didn’t feel the need to say otherwise because one; hating him wasn’t a possibility, she couldn’t care less about his childish behavior, it was actually pretty funny and that gave her lots of opportunities to tease him. and two: nothing was more satisfying than seeing his jaw clenched and his bratty attitude rising when she provoked him.

“get out.” he says without looking at the door, being able to feel her presence due to her sweet and addicting scent.

she chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her calmly. “you know… i wasn’t gonna stay but now that you told me to get out...” her exposed legs by the black miniskirt make its way to his bed, sitting on the edge, her smooth skin complimenting the white sheets while her skirt molded perfectly her thighs.

matt rolls his eyes again “i don't care what you do, just don't bother me while i’m trying to relax.” he continues on his phone, not even glancing at the girl’s relaxed figure. “what do you want, anyway? nick and chris had enough of you and now you came here to annoy me? you’re really good at that, you know.“ he smirks sarcastically.

“oh, i’m very aware.” she crawls to the other edge of the bed close to the wall, leaning against it, her legs brushing against his feet slightly without her noticing.

matt, however, did notice it. in fact, his whole shivered body noticed it.

“and don’t pretend like you hate it when i’m here.”

the blue eyed boy scoffs and moves his feet away from her. “oh, i don’t have to pretend, i can barely stand being in the same room as you most of the time.” he sets his phone down and finally looks at her, giving her the a once-over with his typical critical eye, he stares at her tank top and then at her uncovered stomach and thighs. “what’s with the short skirt, huh? trying to impress someone? it’s not like anyone here would be interested in a girl like you, anyway.” matt smirks arrogantly. “especially not me. so you can stop trying so hard, it’s pathetic.”

“it’s fucking 95° degrees.” she replied with her usual nonchalant tone while grabbing her phone to check her lip gloss. “and i wouldn’t be so sure about that, your friends are more than interested. everytime they come here to hangout with you, they spend more time thirsting over me than talking to your boring ass.” she added, drawing her lips with a finger and laughing a little at her own comment at the same time. matt finds himself glazing at her lips, the way she draws her reddish glossy flesh with her finger without a worry, like her moves were calculated. to him, it seemed like she doesn’t feel anything, no matter what he says.

he snaps from the trance, shaking his head and frowning at her words.

his friends indeed spend more time eating her alive with their eyes than paying attention to him when she is around with nick and chris, which made matt crazy with rage. all of the groans and death glares he gives her every single time just proving her point without needing to add much.

matt finally narrows his eyes, anger building inside him little by little. “don’t even fucking start with them. they’re too good for your stupid annoying personality.” he leans back against his headboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the girl pointedly. “it doesnt matter, you’re just asking for attention dressed like that, regardless. typical slutty behavior from a girl like you.” the boy sneers derisively. “probably hoping one of us will bend you over and teach you a lesson, huh? too bad. i have standards, unlike my idiotic friends, apparently... they’ll fuck anything that moves. not me though. i need a real woman, not some immature whore.” he smirks cruelly. “unluckily for you, i’m not interested in sloppy seconds. or thirds.”

oh, the good and old fragile masculinity. the girl smirks, her eyes shifting to dark manner.

“is that so?” she leans over his legs, placing both hands on his tights covered by his grey sweatpants, her long black nails digging slightly into his skin while her penetrating gaze stares at his soul, the boy’s body tensed up and she scoffs. “what’s wrong? are you too insecure to handle a confident woman?” matt freezes for a second almost vocally responding to the sensation of her nails digging into his flesh, he swallows avoiding her eyes with a mix of rage and anticipation.

the girl studies his expression, feeling his tights tensing up more and more underneath her fingers. she bends back to her previous spot laughing quietly, her unbothered expression and nonchalant tone still not changing. “if you think that a piece of fabric defines a woman’s worth then you’re nothing but a virgin little boy who probably gets hard watching cartoons.” she gets up, walking towards the door, turning her head to face him before leaving. “you know… there’s a big difference between being an asshole and just a straight up sexist. i was wrong about you and sadly not in a good way.” she opens the door and closes it behind her, calmly walking to the living room and sitting on the huge white couch once again. the girl unlocks her phone, scrolling without paying attention to the screen. mentally, she was counting the seconds to see matthew’s figure bursting out of his room and scream at the top of his lungs. the corner of her mouth quirked up with excitement.

meanwhile, matthew stares blankly at her ghost in front of him, processing her words. he grits his teeth, face turning red with anger. 

the tall boy jumps up from the bed and storms out of the room after her, heading straight to the living room, her calm and collected mannerism making his neck vein pop up with annoyance. “fuck you! you don't know shit about me!” matt stands in front of the girl, hands on his hips as he glares down at where she sits on the couch. “i’m not insecure nor a virgin, you stupid cunt! and i’m not a little boy either! i’m a grown-ass man who knows what he wants! unlike you, who clearly has no self-respect dressing like a fucking hooker.” his voice is rising with each word, his temper flaring out of control. he takes a step closer, looming over her menacingly. 

she laughs amusedly, getting up from the couch without a hush, her eyes not backing down from his one second.

their faces are inches apart, his nostrils flare as she invades his personal space, his breath hitching slightly at how close she is. he can smell her scent again with the mix of her mint warm breath hitting his face and watch the flecks of pure darkness in her eyes. it makes him even angrier that she affects him this way.

“then why are you yelling and being so defensive?” she tilts her head, pursing her lips to mock him. “did i hit a nerve, little boy?”

matt laughs sarcastically, rubbing his face in frustration.

“i’m not defensive, you fucking psycho! i’m pissed off because you're a delusional bitch who thinks she can talk to people however she wants without consequences!” his voice drops to a low growl as he stares intensely into her eyes, his own blazing with fury and something else he refuses to acknowledge. “think you're so sly, so above everyone else, huh? sorry to break your little ‘i don’t care’ attitude but you're nothing special. just another dumb slut looking for a man to put you in your place.” matt reaches out and grips her chin roughly, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. she gasps with his aggressiveness while smirking, still not being affected by his words. 

“oh, i don’t think i’m above anyone else.” she leads her hand to his chest, creeping up to the neck and he tightens the grip on her chin, his pulse racing beneath her fingers. “i just think i’m better than guys who judges people based on clothes. you know? the ones who probrably will stay alone and horny forever?” her challenge only fuels his anger further and he leans in even closer until their noses are nearly touching, making her smirk wider. ”guys like… you.” he groans, sliding his other hand up to wrap around her throat loosely, applying just enough pressure in an attempt to make her submit once and for all, but it was too late. she was getting inside his head without even trying too much and he had no idea. “see, you’re calling me a slut for the way i dress but i bet you can’t name one guy i’ve dated.’’

“you’re right, i don't know who you've fucked. but i know your type, always throwing yourself at guys, desperate for validation. you probably spread your legs for the first dick that shows interest, don't you?” he replies right away, his words heavy with irritation. “face it, sweetheart - you're a pathetic little tease who gets off on driving guys crazy. well, congratulations, mission accomplished. you’re driving ME crazy alright... but not in the way you wanted.”

the girl lets out a small giggle, ignoring all the offensive comments, her mind floating with the thought of all the words she’s gonna make him swallow later. this by itself was awfully turning her on, but she manages to hide it well by her unconcerned expression.

“it’s so funny the way you’re affected by my words while trying so hard not to show it.” the girl takes her hand away from his neck, crossing her arms. “and i didn’t even try anything. i just replied to your brainless incel comments and you got mad because you have nothing else to say besides calling me an attention seeker.” she shrugs, her gaze still on him while she feels his fingers flexing around her slender throat.

matt snorts derisively at her words, her neck veins pulsing underneath his digits. he knows she's affected by him too, no matter how much she tries to hide it.

‘’oh please, spare me the bullshit. you live for this kind of thing… pissing people off, pushing buttons until they snap. well, i’m not falling for your sick games.’’ he releases her abruptly and steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. his heart pounds wildly in his chest but he refuses to let it show on his face.“get the hell out of my sight before i do something we both regret. trust me, you don't want to test me right now. i’m not one of your little boy toys to play with whenever you feel bored.’’

the corner of her lips went up with a smirk, she quietly sneaks behind matt who is currently facing his door, trying to control the anger and arouse inside him.

the girl lifts her feet up a little to reach his ear. “and what exactly are we going to regret, matt?” she whispers, brushing her lips against his lobe.

matt freezes as he feels her warm breath ghosting over his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin. every muscle in his body tenses, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab her and throw her onto the nearest surface.

‘’fuck you, get off me!’’ he snaps, shrugging her off roughly and spinning around to face her. his eyes blaze with barely contained lust and fury as he backs her up against the wall, caging her in with his arms. ‘’fine. let's play this fucking game, but don’t fool yourself. this is MY game, not yours. see if you can handle the consequences.’’ matt leans in, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss before biting at her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, she moans with the mixture of pain and pleasure, the taste of blood only making her more aroused by second. 

her arms wrap around his neck, one hand reaches his hair, grabbing and pulling back in a sharp grip to make him face her. “is that all you can do?” she asks, gasping with her mouth slightly open, a little blood stain painting her swallowed lips red. “guess i was right about you just being a virgin little boy.” the girl smirks, tightening the grip on his hair more aggressively, a low growl rumbles in matt's chest, the sharp sting only serving to inflame his desire further. 

he presses himself fully on her, grinding his already hard cock against her hip as he grabs both wrists and pins them above her head roughly. ‘’you fucking tease, you have no idea what i’m capable of.’’ he rasps, trailing biting kisses along her jawline and down her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “i could ruin you in ways you never imagined. make you beg while screaming my name to the whole fucking neighborhood to listen.’’ matt nips sharply at her collarbone before soothing the sting with his tongue, laving the abused flesh with long strokes. his free hand slides down to grope her breast roughly through the thin fabric of her top, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

she gasps, lifting her leg up between his legs, her hands still pinned above her head. “you’re just talk.” she scoffs, brushing her knee against his hard cock and he tilts his head back, lips parted with a whimper before he turns back to her, closing the gap between their bodies even more while sliding up the grip on her wrists, making her moan with the pain of her muscles being stretched aggressively. “i dare you to destroy me, matthew. even though i know you won’t get even close.” she looks up at him with a burning gaze, a unreadable expression in her face.

his eyes darken with sadistic glee at her challenge, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. matt releases her wrists abruptly and grips the hem of her black tight top, tearing it open with one swift motion to expose her bra-clad breasts, she moans and whimpers against his mouth, finally feeling her arms free. the flimsy lace provides little barrier as he palms the soft mounds roughly, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers. ‘’want to be destroyed, you fucking slut? i’ll give you what you asking for.’’ he captures her mouth again in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as he plunders her depths ruthlessly. the blue eyed boy hands roam her body greedily, squeezing and caressing every curve as he grinds his aching erection against her hip bone.

she breaks the kiss with heavy breathing, her lips still brushing against his. “yet you seem more affected than me.” she leads a hand to his hard cock, caressing it, matt immediately lets out a strangled groan as she gropes his straining dick through the cotton fabric of the sweatpants, his hips jerking involuntarily into her touch. “so hard…” her hand squeezes the covered length ruthlessly, leaning to his neck and sucking his pale skin, she smiles noticing the instant harsh red hickeys. “it seems like you’re the slut.” she brings a hand to his face, slapping it slightly before grabbing his face and pulling closer to hers. “and you didn’t even need to dress like me to be one, did you?” she giggles, sucking his bottom lips before biting it without mercy to bruise him just like he did to her.

“shut your fucking mouth.” her teasing words send a fresh wave of fury crashing through him and he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly to bare the column of her throat to his hungry mouth. “you have no idea what you're talking about.” he snarls against her skin before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, marking her with his hatred and desire. the other hand slides under her skirt to cup her ass possessively, kneading the firm globe. “i’m gonna fuck that smart mouth of yours until you choke on my cock. show you what a real man can do.“

she chuckles, her eyes glaring at him with challenge. “a real man, huh?” she slowly drop to her knees, calmly tracing her fingers over his sweatpants and pulling down just enough, his hard cock jumps over her face and matt breath catches in his throat watching the scene before his eyes, her hot mouth hovering mere inches from his very erected member. “no underwear at home? how slutty of you.” she chuckles, leaning against his pink tip covered with precum and licking it while her lustful eyes gazed at his face. “let’s see if you’re just all talk or not.”

his lips turns from a gasp to a smirk with her words, he tangles his fingers in her hair, gripping tightly as he guides her face closer to his straining erection. “open wide, you whore. show me how good you can suck dick.” he demands gruffly, rubbing the leaking tip across her full lips. “if you do a decent job, maybe i’ll consider letting you ride my cock later. would you like that, princess? to have me splitting your cunt open with my cock?”

matt pushes past her lips without waiting for a response, sliding deep into the welcoming heat of her mouth with a guttural moan.

she begins to take him all inside her mouth, reaching the throat right away while sucking vigorously, her tongue twisting around his tip when reaching the top before sliding back down deep in her cavity. her eyes already flooding with tears thanks to the aggressive contact of his large dick hitting the back of her throat multiple times, she’s looking at him with siren eyes while her nails were scratching and digging on his thighs.

matt throws his head back with a loud groan as the girl takes him with all effort, her throat constricting deliciously around his sensitive cock. the tears finally stream down her flushed cheeks as she struggles to accommodate his size, but she doesn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts to please him. “just like that. take it all, you filthy little cockslut.” he praises roughly, holding her head steady as he begins to thrust shallowly into her mouth, fucking her face with increasing intensity. “your mouth was made for sucking my dick, wasn't it? bet you love having your throat used like this, being choked on my thick cock.”

he picks up speed, slamming into her mouth brutally as he chases his release.

meanwhile she sucks him more, putting more pressure and taking him even deeper, her tears continuously falling down her pink cheeks and her makeup all smudge over under eyes still glued to his.

that sight of her was way too much for him, matt smirks to himself. feeling proud of dominating the girl who never backs down to anyone. her tear-streaked face, the makeup running down her cheeks as she takes his cock like a submissive whore sends matt hurtling towards the edge. with a roar, he buries himself balls-deep in her throat and holds her there as he erupts, flooding her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot cum.

“swallow it all, don't you dare spill a single drop.” he growls, keeping her trapped on his twitching shaft as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. “fuck, such a good cumdump. you’ve earned yourself a reward. now get up and bend over the kitchen counter. it’s time for me to fuck your little wet pussy.”

the girl swallows everything slowly holding back a smirk while savoring the taste of winning against a fucking asshole, she already won and her game didn’t even start yet.

slowly, she gets up in front of him, wipping the saliva off her chin and the melted makeup under her eyes. her hair beautifully messy and her shining eyes by the tears giving matthew the brief satisfaction, but quickly he shifts his mocking smile to a frown when she smirks and get closer to him.

“you’re not gonna fuck me, matt.” she announces, placing a finger on his chin. “because all i needed to do was pretend to be submissive for a split second for you to think that i was playing your little game, but in reality, you were playing mine this whole time.” she chuckles, releasing his chin with a harsh push with her finger, his head turn to the side while his jaw clenched. “you said you’re not like the other guys but you fell for my tricks just like they do.” she fixes her clothes, walking to the couch and sitting there with her legs crossed, the wetness of her pussy making her a little uncomfortable, but she brushes it off continuing her line of thoughts. “i wouldn’t be mad though, i just gave you the best orgasm of your life, didn’t i?” she asks, tilting her head while smiling.

he stares at her with his mouth open as she saunters away, ignoring his demand to present herself for him to ravage. she was right, no girl ever made him feel that amount of pleasure in his life but of course he was not gonna tell her that.

matt sighs, anger and arousal war within him as he watches her swinging her feet on the couch as if nothing happened.

“the fuck do you think you're doing? come here and bend over your fucking ass so i can destroy your soaking wet cunt.” he warns darkly, stalking towards her with murderous intent in his eyes. “you don't get to tease me like that and then just walk away. this is not how this works, i will have you begging for my cock before we're done today, mark my words.“

reaching the couch, matt grabs the girl roughly by the arm and hauls her to her feet.

“you’re the one begging to fuck me, matt.” she says smirking, his tight grip on her arm making her feel the need to provoke him more. “i mean, if you’re right about me opening my legs to every guy, i guess you’re the only one not getting it. and yet you’re here, wanting so bad to feel my pussy around your dick.” she places a hand over his cheek, caressing it with a fake sense of care. “you’re pathetic…” her thumb slowly slides to his lips, drawing it slightly while the boy shivered, not knowing which emotion to focus, horniness or ego bruised. “but that’s okay, i love pathetic men, they stand exactly where i want.” she slowly inserts a finger inside his mouth and matt opens it without even noticing. “that’s it…” she whispers, pressing his tongue with enough pressure to make him groan.

he is paralyzed again, all this new sensations eating his masculinity and dominance alive, her mocking words stoking the flames of his fury higher but at the same time he wants to give him to the pleasure but quickly recovering to protect his pride.

he grabs her wrist in an iron grip, still feeling the taste of her thumb in his mouth while the other hand acts quickly, seizing her waist against his torso, trapping her between the hard surface nearest wall and his muscular body.

“listen here, you little brat.” he slides his hand under her skirt, using his finger to pull her panties to the side. matt grins, feeling her soaking wet pussy. “look at you, you’re dripping.” he chuckles sarcastically. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re gonna take my cock as the good slut you are. the only question is whether you're going to be able to sit comfortably tomorrow or not.” he threatens menacingly, grinding his already hardening cock against her lower stomach. “i suggest you start begging nicely for it like a good little bitch. maybe if you ask really sweetly, i’ll go easy on you... for the first round, anyway.”

suddenly the voices of chris and nick echoed through the front door. seems like they were back with the groceries. she smirks at matt. 

“nope, i’d rather leave you hard and dry in front of your brothers.” she winks at him smirking, taking his surprise as an advantage to break free from his body, heading to the the her previous spot calmly.

matt curses under his breath as he hears chris and nick approaching the stairs with loud laughter and chatting, knowing he won't have time to properly punish that menace for her insolence. not yet anyway. he shoots her a look filled with dark promise before quickly tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his shirt.

“this isn't over.” he whispers harshly, jabbing a finger at her as he steps back and she smiles at him amused by his anger. with that ominous vow ringing in the air, matt turns to greet his brothers with a forced smile, praying they don't notice the prominent bulge tenting his sweatpants or the glazed look of frustrated lust in his eyes.

[foodtruckery]

ive returned because your writing haunts me and i need to dig into your brain about combat baby idk how deeply youve thought about like. the whole extent of this au so if im asking about stuff that you dont want to focus on for it forgive me but im so curious how do things go down with bill?? like hes still an issue here do they just try the unicorn hair and stan scams his way through (and ford is so shocked and lowkey turned on impressed they bang after) or with everything else happening does ford (stupid genius he is) just sort of forget bill can still enter stan's dreams even if hes got the metal plate and stans like "hey why am i dreaming about a dorito obsessed with your portal"

and im guessing ford would not be down to make his home a tourist trap so do you think stan would just help with the research? or would his insecurities about being dead weight to ford push him to try and find his own way of income?

and and what about the town?? do they have to awkwardly pretend theyre father and son or uncle and nephew or something? because sure they could pretend theyre not related but they still look pretty similar. ford just looks like an older, nerdier stan so i think that would be people's first assumption (ford seething quietly as susan flirts with stan. stan just thinks fords feeling uncomfortable in town because hes a hermit until theyre alone and they have a repeat of their highschool days with ford hissing in his ear and demanding to know what he was expecting to happen with susan. stan trying to answer but hes a little distracted at the time)

and also with ford being back would they ever run into fiddleford again? either him in his cult days or maybe already halfway to losing his mind. depending on where he is mentally im sure the interaction could be either pretty hostile or sympathetic

ive grabbed you by the ankles and am attempting to shake you upside down to try and empty your pockets for scraps of this au because it consumes me

-🐶

waaaaaah thanks for being patient with me friend! you know i ALWAYS love to see you with the big fuckin questions and ideas. and i have been THINKING about this one cause, tbh, i finished combat baby in a couple of days and went “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT” and threw it at y’all and did not think much about it after that! until i came over here and started chatting with y’all at least hahaha.

the bill issue is like a whole thing right? and i was definitely wondering how the time travel on one side but not the other might impact him/slow him down. but i also do think it’d be kind of fucking hilarious if stan starts dreaming about bill but like. doesn’t say anything and doesn’t even think it’s a big deal because. you know. they’re just weird dreams. and at this point, stan’s done enough drugs and been through the ringer with stress and shit that it doesn’t even occur to him to question having bizarre dreams about some little geometric freak trying to be nice to him. whaaat? a MATH SHAPE for fucking NERDS in a gay little sweater vest BOW TIE is COMPLIMENTING him in his dreams???

as far as stan’s concerned, his subconscious got REALLY hung up on the whole “ford said some nice shit to me while we were fucking” and just hasn’t let that go yet. which i think would also drive bill up the fucking wall. like stan would have been the harder nut to crack regardless, but to keep getting accused of being stan’s mental manifestation of his brother fucking praise kink???? (which of course invites the whole question of bill going fuck it, and just leaning into that, but i don’t think he’d be as adept that mimicking ford for stan as he was at mimicking stan for ford, so)

ngl, i do love the unicorn hair play, tho. fun fact! i have no idea if i’ll actually write it or not, but i’ve toyed with the idea of doing a role reversal with ford coming back out of the portal still in this 30’s and finding stan and everything else having moved forward 30 years. and the unicorn hair felt like a good way to potentially address the Bill Issue i was getting stopped up on there! but like. i also could absolutely see older!ford convincing stan to wear a collar necklace of unicorn hair to keep bill out of his head.

but i loooooove the idea of them getting mixed up with fiddleford’s cult shit. i don’t even know wtf i’d DO with that but conceptually i love it. cause they’re starting to keep an eye on the townspeople, right? and even if stan’s come up with some kinda story to explain there being kinda sorta two of them now, he wouldn’t know not to be outspoken about the other weird shit happening in town. y’know, on top of being some of the weird shit happening in town. something something, stan getting snatched like lazy susan did over the gnome incident, but ayyye that shit hits really fucking wrong when you’ve actually been kidnapped in the past already and had to chew your way out of a fucking car to get free. i think that’s be neat!!

and especially if we consider fidds being maybe already just shade too far gone, enough that running into stan or having him dragged into the cult would confuse the fuck out of him. because that’s stanford, right? it has to be, he’s coming in and out of stanford’s house, he looks like stanford with a few questionable fashion and hygiene choices — but then again, stanford hadn’t been in great shape the last time he’d shown his face outside of the cabin, either. but his hands are wrong. his hands are wrong and he can’t be stanford but then why does he look like him? easy solution: everybody gets their memory wiped.

something something, stan may not know where the fuck he is, but he knows coming to in a room full of shady guys he doesn’t recognize is either gonna end with him losing teeth or a little bit of dignity, and he’d like to hold on to his teeth a little longer.

[askthesmg4apprenticeshipau]

What up, I'm back with my other AU child, let's go!

(To SMG4, SMG3, SMG4, SMG6, Mario, Mr. Puzzles, and Bob)

Godbox!3 suddenly dive-bombs in from above and lands hard on Godbox!4

Godbox!3: Aaaaaaand stuck the landing! How’s that for an entrance!

Godbox!4: (Hissing in pain) Awww, are you looking to me for validation? You insecure or something?

Godbox!3: …(sighs) Never mind. You see what I have to put up with? Anyways, I’m SMG3 of Godbox AU, AKA the best character ever. Enough of these sappy questions! Mine are better!

Godbox!3: (clears throat) Tell me, plebeians, what is your best insult? I want you all to roast SMG4. I don't care which one, just don't hold back! And if you sit out, then you're LAME and a PUSSY-

Godbox!4: Just play along with him kids, I think he’s trying to compensate for how old and crusty he is!

Godbox!3: Will you SHUT UP WE LITERALLY CAN'T AGE ANYMORE

SMG4: …

SMG3: Alright. I can tell you this SMG4 looks like a rejected edgy tumblr OC from a 13 year old back in 2016. Hell, I’d even call you a tumblr creepypasta OC considering that damned smile you’re always wearing. What are you? Smile dog or some shit?

SMG3: And what’s with the chains? Couldn’t even die properly cuz you were brought back as this weird ass thing. I mean, what the hell are you? Why the hell are you even a furry? Seriously, is this some kind of… I don’t know what exactly to say cuz there’s a kid here-

SMG6: You’re supposed to be roasting him-

SMG3: I mean, are you into that kind of thing? Not to mention the cuffs. Congrats on being enslaved by the Godbox, asshole. Enjoy your death, cuz I think this will be a long one.

SMG6: 3, can-

SMG3: And another thing! *continues spewing insults*

SMG6: *leans in to SMG4’s ear* Is… is he ok…?

SMG4: This is the first time he’s gotten to truly insult anyone in a while. I say let him go at it.

Bob: Bitchless ass-

SMG3: *starts laughing* Ok. That was a good one

Bob: Thank you

SMG5: I’ll accept being lame and a pussy

SMG3: Really? Got nothing to say to this furry reject?

SMG5: Just that he clearly crawled out of a 10 year old’s weird SMG34 smut fanfic

SMG6: I was gonna say he’s not even scary, just a cute little plush toy

SMG3: Ooh

SMG4: … um…

Mario: I don’t even think the most dedicated of mothers could love that SMG4-

SMG3: *wheeze*

Mr. Puzzles: Best insult I can come up with is negative stars, and I bet that is clearly out of the running-

SMG4: Can… um…

SMG4: Can I… uh… no. I’ll accept the whole… lame thing

SMG4: I don’t… I’m not really comfortable insulting myself anymore

SMG3: That’s ok, Glitchy. *kisses his scarred cheek* You don’t have to

Mario: Insult our SMG4 because of that and things won’t be okey dokey anymore

[eyebulb]

Kay, I'm not done w. The whole Stolas thing.. Cus talking to antis piss me off.

Do you not realize that Stolas and Blitz have very similar issues?? That just present itself in different ways (although not entirely)

Both of them have history w. Abuse. Verbal and physical. Blitz has abandonment issues, Stolas has been isolated his entire life. They're both afraid of loneliness and not being enough.

Now.. What about some of their bad habits, hmm? Things people looove to critique.

First up: delusion and deflection

Stolas lives in a fantasy world to escape life. He makes things up in his head and therefor ends up acting to a false reality. He's scared at looking too deeply into things that aren't that great so tries to play it off w. Changing the subject, fleeing, flirting etcetc.

Blitz doesn't live in a fantasy world.. But he's an expert at deflecting. Through humor, anger or just simply ignoring things he doesn't want to hear. Blitz is also afraid of looking too close, but this also include good things lest he fucks it up. This guy is more in the "expect the worst" kinda camp. Cus he does have a version of reality that isn't quite true too. Due to all of his self-hatred among other experiences.

Boundaries..what's that?

Lots of people like to criticise Stolas on this one. His delusion leads to him flirting aggressively and uncomfortably w. Blitz and not seeing when Blitz isn't into it. He also takes Octavia to a place she didn't wanna go despite her saying so, he also talks a little too freely to Blitz in front of her.. (demeaning speech is also included in his uncomfortable flirting)

Blitz.. Is notorious for boundary breaking. He stalks M&M constantly despite them telling him no repeatedly. He also stands in the way of Loona as a protective father which makes her lash out cus she's an adult. (totally get him but still crossing a boundary). He pry into their sex life and does a little bit of inappropriate touching on Moxxie (in a joking manner ofc.. I thought it was hilarious.. But still a boundary). He stalks his sister despite everyone telling him not to. He makes fun of and comes back to scream at a broken hearted Stolas who thought it was over and done after the full moon. (if you wanna try to keep the bird don't make fun of his feelings and break into his home my dude). Not to mention breaking and entering to steal a very valuable book in the first place.

They both have their own reasons for doing this but still.. They're both doing this.

Blames themselves.

Both Stolas and Blitz are very much in the "I'm a piece of shit" camp. As in.. They think very lowly of themselves.

Stolas sings about missing signals, not being enough, being a monster, doing the wrong thing, on several different occasions. He is anxious and insecure in social situations and he tries to hide when he doesn't feel welcome. He has stood up for himself twice but it's rare.

Blitz is self-hatred galore! Which makes him push people away before they can get too close to him lest they see the real him and oh how much worse it would hurt to be rejected then. He made one big mistake that everyone ended up blaming him for and he leans into the role of shitty as much as he can. So he acts out if threatened by treating people around him badly and hurting himself in the process.

They are both their own worst enemy.

Both have fear of loneliness.. However this is a little different.

Stolas has always been lonely... He holds hope of genuine connections and tries desperately to hold on if he finds someone. He is hopefull and falls hard but he doesn't want to force people to stay if they don't want to.

Blitz hasn't always been alone but has been lonely for a longass time. He fears being abandoned since he was pushed away as a child and lost everyone he cared about in one big accident. Blitz also craves genuine connection and hopes for it but is scared of it cus he's lost it before. He wants to get close but not too close.. Except he does want to be too close too. Actually he's quite clingy. But being clingy is scary sooo let's keep our distance.

They both are kinda clingy honestly. Both want to love and be loved. Both are family people. Both are desperate and keep making dumb choices because of it.

There are definitely things that are very different too. Which is a reason to why they don't understand each other yet. But they're starting to.

And I've probably missed things but these are a few similarities in the way they act that makes me wonder why they aren't judged equally..

[slutforwwewomen]

Fantasy (Ghostface)

Part One.

LivMorgan X Fem!Reader X RheaRipley

Warnings - Mentions of blood, knife’s, all that stuff. you can’t watch horror movies, then I’d suggest not to read this. Eventual smut at some point.

Summary - Weird things have been happening lately. You keep getting calls from unknown numbers, every time you answer it, there’s just heavy breathing. Until finally, they speak up.

___________________________

Murder.

That’s what is happening in my small town. As long as I’ve lived here, I’ve never known of anything like this to happen.

Maybe a few robberies here and there, but nothing like this.

What makes this even worse is that I’ve been receiving calls from these unknown numbers. Heavy breathing and sometimes this…low pitched growl noise.

I’ve been wondering if this could be the killer, but I always come to a point where I believe it’s just some kids prank calling, trying to scare others.

I work morning shift at my job, meaning I get off later during the day. I work at the diner owned by my mom and dad. I’ve always been here with them, so I know pretty much all of our customers.

Except for the few drunken truck drivers who pass through here and there.

As my shift ends, I tell my parents goodnight and I clock out. I walk outside to my car, get in and go to crank it up.

But...

It wasn't starting.

"Shit!" | screamed.

All I wanted was to go home and get some sleep.

Tomorrow is halloween. So the diners gonna be busy and I have to fix up some of the decorations out front.

I pull my phone out, seeing if I can call a taxi to come and get me.

I get a call.

"UNKNOWN NUMBER" again..

"Hello?" I say aloud.

No response. Only loud, heavy breathing.

The deep breathing was the only response I was getting. No words, no hello, no greeting...Just the breathing.

“Hello?” I say again.

“You know... you're not supposed to answer calls at this hour..” A voice finally speaks up. Its deep. Raspy.

“Who is this?” I ask.

“No no.. I ask the questions.” The person says to me.

The voice chuckled a bit, before clearing their throat. “Do you like scary movies, Lorelei?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Nuh uh, answer the fucking question bitch.” The voice says to me.

“No- What? Why does it-Just..please stop calling me!” I hang up.

My heart dropped. What the fuck was that.

I try my car one more time.

It finally cranks.

I don’t think I’ve ever drove home faster. As soon as I stepped in the door, I slammed it shut and made sure to lock it. I went around, checking my windows and doors..making sure no one could open them.

I was scared shitless.

I sit down on my couch, trying to calm myself down.

“It’s just a prank, that’s all.” I said to myself, breathing in and out.

After about 15 minutes of repeating this and breathing in and out, I go upstairs to my bedroom. Ready to wash this day away.

I grab my clothes, and walk to my bathroom.

I shut the door behind me, making sure to lock it as I was still paranoid, and placed my clothes on the sink. I turn the water on in the shower, steam immediately beginning to fill the air. I get undressed and step in.

I begin washing my hair, but suddenly I hear the bathroom door knob wiggling as if someone is attempting to open it.

I shrugged it off, thinking it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

But it happens again.

This time, I stick my head out, watching the doorknob rattle.

I turn the water off slowly.

Suddenly, loud banging on the door begins.

I scream but cover my mouth immediately, as if the person doesn’t know I’m in here.

“I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” This person speaks out behind the door.

I look at the counter, my phone not there as I left it in the bedroom.

“Shit!” I scream.

“Ahhh there you are.” Says the person.

The banging and rattling begins again.

I rush out of the shower. Grabbing my clothes and throwing them on.

I was not about to die naked.

“Open the door. I’m not gonna hurt you. Come on..I just want to have a little fun, yeah?”

Holding back tears, I run and stand on my toilet, trying to open the window that sits above it.

My heart rapidly beating, palms becoming sweaty. Filled with instant panic, fear for my life.

I finally get it open, but the only thing is, I’m on the second floor.

Suddenly the door is broken down, a tall black figure rushing at me with a knife.

I decide to take the risk, I jump out of the window. Landing on the patch of grass next to my driveway.

The land twisted my knee but I can’t stop due to that. I get up and run as fast as I can to a nearby house, banging on the door.

“PLEASE HELP, THERES SOMEONE AFTER ME! HELLO? PLEASE!!!” I scream whilst banging on the door.

The door opens up, an older lady asking me if I’m alright.

I beg her to call the cops, too tell them someone’s in my house, and she does just so.

She sat me on her couch, wet and all. She gives me a towel and a blanket, telling me the cops should be arriving soon.

Small Time Jump!

After arriving at the hospital, the nurses put me in a room. Checking me out to make sure I’m okay, also checking my knee to see what happened. When the nurses are done, the cops follow in after them.

The cops sit down, now asking me questions about what happened exactly.

I tell them everything I knew. Including the calls I thought may have been random kids.

After about an hour of talking with the cops, they leave me be.

Sometime after, my mom and dad came in.

She ran into my arms, tears immediately falling from both of our eyes.

Everything felt okay at the moment.

“Baby I’m so glad you’re okay.” My mom says.

My dad following behind her. “Me too.” He too comes up to me and hugs me.

“I was so scared..” I speak up, my voice slightly raspy due to my screaming.

“You’ll be okay baby. You’re a strong girl.” My mom caresses my face with her hand.

I nod my head.

“Are you hungry?” My dad asks. “I can run to the diner and make you something?”

“Uhm- Yeah. I am. Thank you, dad.” I smile at him.

He nods to me and then walks out.

“I’m gonna go find a restroom, hunny. I’ll be right back, okay?”

I smile at my mom and nod in affirmation.

After my mom walked out, the nurse followed in after her. “Your mom’s on the line.”

My mom?

It was probably my dad, using mom’s phone.

I pick the phone up. “Hello? Dad?” I ask.

A deep voice responds. “Guess again.”

No.

Oh god.

“What do you want from me..” I ask, tears once again forming in my eyes.

“All I want is for you to answer my questions. Can you do that?

“You’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” I question.

“That all depends on your answers.” The person says. “Tell me, Lorelei..Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm”

“What’s your favorite..scary movie?”

I answer, holding back my tears and sobs. “I- It’s..The Exorcist.”

The killer lets out a slight laugh. “Good pick.” They say.

“I’ll start you off on some easy questions okay? Let’s say a…practice round, yeah?”

“Okay.” I mumble out.

“Friday the 13th. How did Jason die?”

“I- he uhm…I don’t-..” I get cut off.

“Oh come on..don’t say you don’t know? Think, Lori.”

“Drowned. He drowned!” I say.

“Ding ding ding! Correct!”

“Just a couple more..When did the original IT movie come out?

“1990! I know this one!” I say. Getting a bit more confident in myself.

“Mhm, good job, alright.. last one, What is the song played at the beginning of Halloween II?”

“Mr Sandman! Yes, I know this one!” I scream slightly.

“Wow! Someone knows their stuff…” The person says.

“I won right?! Did I win?” I ask.

“Oh no no..that was just the practice round, remember?”

“Time for the real round. What item did Nancy pull out of her dream in Nightmare of Elm Street?”

“What? I- how am I supposed to know this? I don’t..”

“Don’t leave me hanging Lori! Come on…I’m sure you know it.”

“I don’t- I’ve never seen that movie! Please.”

“What’s the answer lori?”

“I don’t know!”

“Is that your final answer?”

“I- fuck!” I hang up the phone.

I get up off the hospital bed and try to run to the hallway, but suddenly I’m grabbed.

“You hung up in my face Lorelei! That’s not very nice…”

The killer grabs my face, shoving a rag in my face.

One second I’m awake.

The next, I’m not.

A/N - Hi again! This is only part one to the story, if it seems a bit rushed, that’s cause it is. I wrote this quickly, just to see and get a feel of what I really wanted. I promise part two will be much much better!

[yummygender]

Prequel to ‘Stress Positions and Poker’

The Encounter

The night was cold and dark, only the moon and streetlights illuminated the sky as Patch entered the bar where he heard Wade was hiding. He took a long draw of his cigar as he leaned against the wall, simply waiting for the merc to give away his position. He was too fond of him to not make his presence known. The undercover man stood still and silent for a moment before he began to speak.

“Rough night?”

Wade poked out of the dumpster, emerging as if he was bursting out of a cake.

“You tell me, handsome~”

Patch chuckled gruffly while he gently tapped the execs ash off his cigar.

“You smell like shit.”

“Have you smelled yourself lately?” The merc quipped back.

This was their usual mating dance, quips and playful jabs. Wade loved it while Patch despised it, as it was a constant reminder of just how truly animalistic he was. How he was nothing but a wild animal. It ate him up inside but for one reason or another, be it pure dumb luck or Patch was getting desperate, he didn’t mind it when the merc with a mouth was around.

Wade didn’t care that the disguised Wolverine was an animal, a slave to his mutation and instincts, he just liked him. The instincts and surrender to his mutation just made him even more of a catch to the crazed man.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Weeellll…”

“Wade…”

“Ok! Ok! Ok!”

He huffed as he leaped out of the dumpster, stretching while he approached Patch.

“I…was just here to see you! Supriiisseee!!!”

“Oh really?”

Patch mumbled to himself as he rubbed his head. He always cared about the merc, even when he was running his mouth. However, he knew Wade would only pop up if he needed someone dead.

“I don’t buy that.”

“Wha?! You don’t believe me, kitten whiskers?!!”

He sighed as he rubbed his head, cussing under his breath.

“No. I don’t.”

“Ok ok…you’re not wrong…”

Patch turned his full body to face him.

“You were sent here to kill me?”

“…yeah.”

He stared him down, anger boiling over as Wade jumped up and attacked him. They tussled for a bit, guns going off and blades being dawned while blood spilled and mixed into each other. Claws pierced Wade’s chest as he cackled.

“Ohhh! Good to see you still want your hands on me~!”

Patch continued to repeatedly stab him. He wasn’t taking his shit.

“I can easily beat you, Wade. Don’t even try me.”

“Wanna bet?”

Wade pulled out his other pistol before they were slashed off, blood spilling and spewing as the undercover mutant pinned him down on his chest. He grabbed his mask and tore it off while the merc moaned.

“So aggressive! Ya gonna pull on my pigtails now?”

“I might if you don’t shut the fuck up!”

Patch pried the merc to his feet and dragged him into the bar through the back door, hauling him to a private room while he whispered in his ear.

“You think you’re gonna try to kill me and get away with it, mouth? Huh?! You think you’re gonna get the one up on me??”

Wade moaned softly as he tilted his head against him before Patch froze in place, slowly turning to the merc before tossing the blood-stained man onto the booth seat and pulled the curtains close.

“I outta teach you a lesson…”

Patch grabbed he head and removed the mask as he sliced off his slowly regrowing arms and legs, about ready to slice at his crotch before Wade interjected.

“Hey hey hey!!! Don’t go for the jewels, Patchy!!”

“Why should I?!”

The merc began to think before his eyes lit up.

“Well..what do you want~?”

Patch froze as he began to turn red.

“What?”

“I said…what do you want~?”

He began to think, his mind racing as he bit his lip.

“I…what I want?”

Wade nodded as the two sat in silence for a moment before the older man noticed his limbs were regrowing.

“…I want you.”

The merc turned red under his mask as Patch pulled him onto his lap.

“I want you as my little pet…”

Soft jazz continued to play as the disguised man gently removed his weapons.

“…and don’t worry about the suit. I’ll get you a better one.”

Wade’s heart thumped as he gently leaned into his hold while his limbs regrew. He felt oddly safe and completely forgot about his mission.

“So who sent you to kill me?”

“…some anti-mutant bastard.”

Patch jolted at the information, flabbergasted by the younger man’s willingness to work for such people. He wrapped a hand around the man’s throat as he growled.

“You’re willing to work for a man like that?”

“Eh, I was gonna just chop your finger off and just send it to him as ‘proof’…”

The older man growled as he grabbed Wade’s ear, making him yelp while Patch pulled him over his lap.

“Then I guess I’ll leave more proof…”

The man began to spank the merc, holding him in place. He was angry, furious. He knew the man had the moral backbone of a snail but this was completely out of character for the mercenary, but ignored every warning bell that rang in his head as he tanned his bottom. Wade moaned as he closed his eyes, shivering while he took each harsh slap with little to no restraint. Soft whimpers and moans escaped his mouth.

“Ohhh…you’re defeating me, alright~! Ohhh and it feels sooo good~~!!!” Wade moaned.

The older man smirked as he continued the assault, only stopping when he felt the merc’s crotch turning wet. He gently sat the man up on his lap as the merc began to move his slowly regenerating limbs. Once Patch was done lashing out on the slowly healing man’s bottom, he pulled the man into his arms in a gentle yet strong hug. The two sat in silence as his arms finished healing and his legs slowly started to catch up. The older man noticed as he smiled.

“Feeling better?”

“…yeah.”

Patch gently pecked his cheek as he scooped him up, pocketing his weapons while they left through the back door. He was slowly developing a need to protect and hold him, gently squeezing him in his arms.

“…Wade?”

Wade looked up at him.

“Yeah?”

“…you’re mine now…and I’ll make sure you know…”

They got to Patch’s hotel as he laid the merc down on the bed, removing his destroyed suit and tossing it to the side.

“…now…what to do with you…”

Wade moaned as he removed his own mask.

“Oh Daddy…I think I know what you can do~”

He turned to the scarred man as he tilted his head.

“Hmm?”

“Ever heard of gimps~?”

Patch nearly gagged. Gimps? Is he serious?!

“Yeah…”

“Maybe you could make me your little cocksleeve~?”

He sighed softly as he began to think.

“…I wouldn’t be against that~”

Wade smiled widely as the older man began to plan in his mind, thinking carefully about how to go about everything. Patch gently wrapped his hands around the younger man’s throat while he pulled him into a deep kiss. Their lips and teeth clashed as they got wrapped up in each other’s limbs, the older man gently biting his lip as they got lost in the moment before pulling away from each other. They gently pressed their forehead against each other’s before Patch snapped and pinned him down.

“You want to be my little toy?”

“Of course~”

He smirked.

“Stay still, Wade.” Patch grumbled as he got up and searched the hotel, grabbing some duck tape and towels as he wrapped his body up in the towels to protect his skin before wrapping the duck tape around his body like a mummy.

Once the merc was wrapped up in the towels and duck tape, he laid down next to him and grabbed him by his jaw.

“You gonna behave? You gonna be mine?”

Wade nodded as he smiled, his eyes fluttering close while he leaned against his touch. Patch allowed it as he began to grind against him for a moment, letting the merc shake and melt in his arms. He adored the way the younger man trembled before slowly pulling him closer and gently kissing his head.

“Atta boy…just relax…we’ll train later~”

[starcraftt]

i was finally home. to stay ── .✦

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i'm obsessed and that's okay. REASONING : i got bored nd had cooked up some ponyboy headcanons so jst decided to make all of them some. ^^ <3 WARNINGS : none of these are probably accurate i dunno man it's late?? like,, really late and i have school tomorrow i'm sorry. :( </3 ( no actual warnings that i could think of !! )

RANDOM OUTSIDERS HEADCANONS !!

゜✦゜₊⁺  ✦゜₊⁺   ✦゜₊⁺  ゜゜✦゜₊⁺  ✦゜₊⁺   ✦゜₊⁺  ゜゜✦゜₊⁺  ✦゜₊⁺   ✦゜₊⁺  ゜゜✦゜₊⁺ 

𝐏 𝐎 𝐍 𝐘 𝐁 𝐎 𝐘

|| 𝐂 𝐔 𝐑 𝐓 𝐈 𝐒

— Ponyboy wouldn't like puddles. I feel like he just doesn't like rain in general, so he can stay in and read, but I feel like if he had to go out, he would hate stepping in puddles or passing through them. ( iykyk and i'm crying lmao )

— PONYBOY CAN DRAW AND I FEEL LIKE WE ALL FORGET THAT SO, i feel like you could find him drawing what he imagines book characters to look like, or objects in the books??

— Ponyboy is a perfectionist but only on some things.

— OML Soda has totally walked into their room to find Ponyboy c r y i n g on his bed, and after Pony calms down, Soda asked what he was crying about only to find out it was about a book.

"are you kidding me pony" "i'm sORRY"

— has a weird addiction to horror movies despite hating them and they give him nightmares i cant. they're his guilty pleasure because darry always says the cause of his nightmares were the horror movies he watched.

𝐒 𝐎 𝐃 𝐀 𝐏 𝐎 𝐏

|| 𝐂 𝐔 𝐑 𝐓 𝐈 𝐒

— Sodapop actually isn't that bad at spelling, he just forgets a letter here and there. Like, he'll misspell 'missing' as 'mising', but the next time he writes 'missing' he'll spell it right. his mind is just too distracted and i feel that.

— SODA HAS TOTALLY TRIPPED IN FRONT OF A GIRL AND TRIED TO PLAY IT OFF SO CHILL.

"meant to do that" coughs

— Soda 100% tries his best to help Darry with the bills and such, hating to see his older brother weighed down with all the stress. Never thinks he could do what Darry does nd admires him lots.

— actually kinda enjoys being on the side of watching his friends mess around like?? Sodapop loves knowing that his friends all get along nd -- agjshshshjgshshs

— he supports it fully if/when the steve is the one attracting the girls one day, never the jealous one.

— LEGIT THE BEST WINGMAN.

"hey, what's up?"

(probably evie or smth) "oh, hey." her friends around her giggling at sodapop because he's cute. <3

"so, you see that guy over there?" gestures wildly over at steve. "yeah he kinda needs someone to dance with." casually leans against the wall like he's flirting with her as he winks subtly.

𝐃 𝐀 𝐑 𝐑 𝐘

|| 𝐂 𝐔 𝐑 𝐓 𝐈 𝐒

— Darry would totally be one of those people who seem like they instantly know how to do everything but I feel when he used to have free time he'd jst randomly learn random things.

"darry you know how to juggle??"

"yes."

"darry you know how to cartwheel?"

"yes."

"darry you know how to read??"

"pony --"

— hates supernatural things, ghosts actually scare the shit out of him im not kidding.

— but when he watches horror movies he's just sitting there blankly while pony is trying to not scream at his side. and when they walk out and ponyboy's jst all shaking nd stuff darry's just like: "broski you okay?"

— loves organization for no reason, it doesn't help him have a clear mind or anything he just . . . goes into pony and soda's room . . . . . and organizes,,,

𝐓 𝐖 𝐎 - 𝐁 𝐈 𝐓

|| 𝐌 𝐀 𝐓 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐖 𝐒

— Two-Bit ( doesn't get enough love ) probably had a childhood crush on Minnie Mouse.

tries not to admit it or is boldly proud of it. depends on who he's talking to.

— Two-Bit doesn't cry over real life things, but he would totally sob over a Mickey Mouse episode or something.

— Legit the smartest ever but doesn't attempt at school and this is why he was held back.

— TOTALLY USED TO HAVE A STUTTER WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER.

— you could NOT understand this boy it was that bad.

until his mom made him start reading to her aloud and it got better. 👍

— actually has once almost passed out from wheezing laughing too hard.

— drama queen and we love him.

𝐉 𝐎 𝐇 𝐍 𝐍 𝐘

|| 𝐂 𝐀 𝐃 𝐄

— Rip Johnny Cade, you would've loved child protective services.

— Johnny probably has tried his hand at creative writing nd he totally enjoyed it. Hates writing essays nd shit though.

— PLS PONYBOY WHEN HE HEARD JOHNNY WRITES A BIT FORCED HIM TO SHARE SO NOW THE TWO HAVE TIMES WHERE THEY BOTH SHARE RECENT WRITINGS AJGHHSJ ponyboy fr johnny's hype man because he knows how hard writers are on themselves (most of the time) </3

"i wrote this one yesterday idk man i don't like it"

"what the fuck johnny this is amazing??"

— johnny has and forever will create characters based on people from the gang. just someone from the gang casually inspired a part of the character. he didn't use to be so subtle about it though.

scribbled down character sheet with jst the basics - 'james thomas: funny guy and the only thing that comes out of his mouth are jokes'

"johnny is this two-bit"

"no."

— leGIT, he once saw someone at school doing a sick secret handshake and convinced ponyboy to make one up with him.

— he probably once didn't like dallas because ponyboy admitted randomly how he didn't like dally and johnny just kinda went with that.

𝐃 𝐀 𝐋 𝐋 𝐀 𝐒

|| 𝐖 𝐈 𝐍 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐍

— Dallas Winston cries at seeing spiders and you cannot change my mind with this. When he's around someone though he tries to play it off so cool though.

— he gets cuddly when he's drunk and johnny is most normally the prime target for hugs.

— says he hates kids but also hates seeing kids cry and will probably try and do something to make them feel better so they'll just stop crying.

— used to have a lisp on the word 'world'.

— genuinely loves any affection but is not willing to give it himself.

𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐕 𝐄

|| 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐃 𝐋 𝐄

— Steve,,, i feel like he doesn't actually enjoy Mickey Mouse, he just watches it when it's on because it's something to watch and he knows if he admits it, Two-Bit would hit him and then cry.

— literally can sing the greatest ever but you never catch him doing it. not even soda knows so you know it's secret.

— cannot focus at work when it's just soda and him, all giggling and messing around until a customer walks in and bro just shuts up as quickly as he can without making himself laugh again.

— steve totally used to legit bully the fuck out of ponyboy when pony was like, five. he's toned it down. it's not that physical anymore.

— steve, and i cannot stress this enough, is such a fucking simp i cant.

— the best best friend. i feel like he'd try and act all 'tuff' and stuff, 'forget' what soda or one of the curtis gang mentioned wanting before getting that exact thing for them on a gift-giving holiday. he saved up so he could get them that. :(

[oodlyenough]

arcane s2 act 1

alright might as well collect my thoughts for posterity

first and foremost: obviously the triumphant cackle i was doing the entire hexcore scene. huge W for me, personally. did it always feel like the most logical and narratively satisfying extension from s1? sure. do i trust television to do the most narratively satisfying thing? no. especially not after fandom spent years of the hiatus trying to convince me otherwise

really all the jayvik scenes were, more or less, exactly what i expected/wanted and very satisfying lmaooo. i knew jayce wouldn't give a fuck about the shimmer or unethical experiments. i win!

other stuff i liked:

in the hiatus i've now seen all of yellowjackets and it has made me fonder of ella purnell and by extension jinx, lol. i love sevika and i think their grudging alliance in the wake of silco's death is a fun direction. jinx finding a random dumpster baby and adopting them immediately, silco would be so proud lmfao

i love caitlyn's dictator arc. i have to be honest i found her disney princess schtick in s1 pretty boring, so this is finally something more flawed and dynamic for me to invest in. yes girl get worse

ambessa rules. i was a little rolling my eyes at the "wow she was pulling the strings all along" reveal, bc it was so obvious and i was sort of hoping they'd do something more interesting with her. but this show has never been subtle. either way it still seems ambessa believes she's protecting mel? so i AM curious about how that plays out

i don't know shit about the league lore around the black rose stuff and don't want to <3 knowing league lore has never improved my arcane experience. but those sequences were very cool and took me by surprise. some good body horror with elora. good luck in the nightmare labyrinth mel!

stuff i liked less:

i think the stylized music video sequences are being a little overused. maybe s1 did them as frequently and I forget? anyhow, the police brutality one really worked for me, because it's the kind of info that def needs to be montaged, and the style was cool and engaging. cassandra's funeral ... i understand why they did it but i didn't like the regular arcane models mixed with the charcoal bgs, i found it distracted me from what was meant to be the emotion of the moment. and the jinx montage i found kind of mid.

i do think the pacing feels as breakneck as ever, to its detriment. i said above the jayvik stuff all played out basically as i wanted, which is more-or-less true, but viktor just be like I Have To Go Now was a bit abrupt. i can excuse a lot of that on the basis that i don't think viktor is really himself anymore because of the hexcore -- very flat emotionally, etc. and i assume we'll see them butt heads again later in the season. but still, the hextech weapons, the nonconsensual hexcoring, etc, would've expected something a little more explosive lol

plus, then we shift from that scene to the Furby Comedy Hour and jayce and heimerdinger having like a nonreaction to each other despite how acrimoniously they parted or how emotionally charged jayce must be sleeping next to viktor's empty cocoon etc... felt whiplash-y to me. but i hate heimerdinger and ekko teaming up to begin with lmao (and ofc ekko directs his frustrations with piltover to jayce, and not the 300 year president furby he has no beef with for some reason)

this extends to vi's decision to pick up the badge, etc. stuff just happens really quick and the fact that the passage of time in the show isn't very clear doesn't really help. i can understand why riot didn't want to spend two decades making five seasons of this show, but 2 seasons will probably feel too short imo.

[snifekinner]

Denmark and Sweden siblings for the sibling meme?

If you've already answered that, then please use this as a chance to talk about the whole family! It seems like Norway is another sibling in the family. What are the siblings' relationships to each other? How many siblings are there in all, who are they, and what is their age order? What is the relationship between them and their parents like?

oh my god SO happily!

here is den and swe, it got really long but im going to post some general family headcanons separately, i will always take a chance to yell about my fave boys. thank you for asking bro! here is some of the dysfunctional world's worst brothers!

who hogs the game consoles?

sweden, bc den doesnt have enough attention span to keep playing too long and he ragequits if swe beats him, which he almost always does bc swe is largely unbeatable at videogames. den usually wins at pool though which is a sore spot for swe. they once spent half an hour on one of those arcade basketball games because neither would admit defeat.

who usually causes the fights?

lmao oh boy. they both cause fights just by being in the same room. classic sibling energy, i hc den as the eldest and swe as the youngest so their relationship is very volatile and very based on beating the shit out of each other. den will wind swe up until he loses it and swe will be quietly sneakily aggravating so den looks completely unreasonable when he gets mad. swe loves getting den into trouble and then skating on by looking innocent.

who steals the others' clothes?

den will steal socks, underwear, tshirts and coats off swe. swe doesnt like wearing other people's clothes and especially not den's because theyre always so wrinkled.

who eats all the good snacks before the other can get any?

to repeat: sweden is the youngest child and he is the snack eater. he always says he's going to replace it but he never does. can you tell im still mad at my younger brother?

which one gets the top bunk or bottom bunk?

on god they will fight each other. when they were kids well i guess bunkbeds werent really a thing but they would always fight for the best sleeping spot and its no different now. as adults in the here and now, theyre both Big Men and the bottom bunk is more roomy so they fight for that. if there was one single and one double bed theyd fight for the double. you understand. they want the same thing and are always always willing to go to war about it.

who speaks up when the other asked for no pickles?

den never needs anyone to do that bc he'll eat literally anything. if he gets something he didnt order he's just like, cool! let me try this! he used to speak up for swe but swe makes a point to do it himself when den is there bc fuck u dont talk for him.

which one likes to go into the other's room, fart, and immediately leave?

both equally guilty. also my older brother used to do this thing where he would wrestle my little brother to the ground, pull his slippers off and beat him in the head and back with them. once he put them in the freezer then got them out cold and hit him with them. anyway thats denmark and sweden.

which one bails the other out of jail?

they get in jail together doing some stupid shit that swe would never do with anyone else. everyone else thinks swe is really straight laced now but when he and den get together they create chaos. norway refuses to bail them out so finland has to step in.

swe and den are both incredibly repentant for around 6 months to 2 years depending on the offence. and then it happens again.

which one won't stop repeating an embarrassing story about their sibling as a child?

denmark - once again swe is let down by not being a good storyteller. denmark has a great memory for everything anyone he knows has ever done. he remembers every embarrassing moment and he will weaponise them.

who do they each think the favourite child is?

i think they both think its the other. but when they have their rare moments of camaraderie they bitch together about it being norway.