#i just want some fucking answers is that so hard to get

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

Peter looked quizzically at the notification on his phone. "Suggested: LooseChange has been downloaded by 1.1M users like you!" He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to click the notification and download it from the app store.

Peter quickly ran through the tutorial. It seemed simple enough: there were two tabs, one that said "Subject," the other, "Chat." The Subject tab contained a poll with a yes or no question that updated every three minutes, along with a scrollable history of previous questions and some occasional moderator comments. The Chat tab contained an anonymous live chat room open to all the online users across the word, currently around 275,000. There was a round plus sign button at the bottom for users to suggest new poll questions, which were chosen by a moderator.

The previous question was, "Should the Subject download the app?" 87.4% of users said yes. The current question was, "Should the Subject remove his clothes?" Currently, "yes" was winning by a substantial margin. Peter thought, why the hell not, so he voted Yes.

Peter put the phone down for a second and went to the bathroom. After washing his hands, his apartment felt very warm all of a sudden. Maybe the ventilation wasn't working. Oh well, his roommate Katie was away visiting family, so he figured he could just walk around the apartment naked if he wanted to. He shrugged, and quickly stripped off his clothes, feeling much better.

Peter picked up his phone and checked the app. Sure enough, the "yes" vote was a runaway winner. The next poll question was, "Should the Subject open his curtains?" This was a slam dunk answer, of course it should be yes, Peter thought, grinning. He flipped over to the Chat tab.

"Lol we're gonna make him an exhib pervert," one commenter replied. "I'm gonna ask if he should wank on the next turn," another chimed in.

Peter checked his mail, thinking this app was kind of silly. A bunch of polls, with no clear indication they were doing anything? He shook his head dismissively, when he heard a notification sound that the poll had closed.

Peter squinted. It was suddenly hard to read on his phone. He needed more light, he thought. Well, better open the curtains. He got up and pulled the cord that opened the curtains all the way, letting the daylight fill the room. Ah, much better.

He checked the app again, hoping it would start getting more interesting. The new poll question was, "Should the Subject switch genders?" Wow, that was an interesting turn of events. This question was a bit more adventurous, and the poll more contentious. The chat was getting heated. "Same old thing on this app, horny dudes always wanting to make bimbos," someone lamented. "I wouldn't mind so much if he was going to keep a girldick," someone opined. "Fuck that," another one argued, "let's slut him out."

Peter didn't really have a horse in this race, but it sounded like a bold choice, so he chose "yes" and submitted. He watched the results trickle in, until the "yes" vote won with 57.3% of the vote. A new poll question popped up: "Should the Subject be aware?"

Petra raised a well-manicured eyebrow as she looked at the question. Omigod, she thought, that would be so hot for the Subject to find out! Biting on her luscious bottom lip, she quickly voted "yes."

She had to admit, this was getting good. Thinking about this imaginary person, stripped naked, exposed to the town below, being turned into a woman, then having it revealed, was so arousing. She could feel herself getting hot and flustered, and she caressed one of the her ample breasts softly.

The notification went off, ending the poll, which of course ended with a "yes" verdict. Petra squealed with delight, as the next question came up: "Should the Subject send a selfie?" Petra went to vote yes, but her finger missed, and she accidentally scrolled backwards into the poll history.

Petra frowned as she looked at some of the past questions. Should the Subject get high? Try on his roommate's clothes? Masturbate to Bugs Bunny dressed like a girl bunny? These were all things she did this morning!!

Petra was overcome with horror as the realization dawned on her. She was the Subject! She hit the plus sign button to submit a question, but she did it from the Subject tab instead of the Chat tab. Her phone took a photo and uploaded it to the app, her surprised face and hanging globes displayed to a quarter-of-a-million users.

Fuck! She would be more furious if this wasn't so goddamned hot!

She quickly typed a submission, hoping to sneak it in before the next poll opened. "Should the Subject be reverted back to normal?" Petra murmered, hitting the plus button on the correct tab this time.

She let out a relieved sigh as her question was chosen. That relief was short-lived, as she saw the "no" vote take an overwhelming lead. "Haha fuck no! She must have typed that," read one chat message. Numerous laughing emojis filled the chat. The poll ended at 98.3% "no." "You fuckers!" Petra growled.

The next poll question made Petra gasp. "Should the Subject masturbate to their corruption?" She opened the chat tab, pleading desperately with the crowd. "No no no please guys don't do this," she begged. "This gunna be gud," read one reply. "I love this app," another beamed.

Petra watched the time tick down, her heart sinking. 93.7% said yes. She stared at that number, looked again at the nude photo of herself in the chat, and then outside to the open window, where any of her neighbors could see her nude form.

And she rubbed her clit. Small circles. Light pressure at first, then building. Then a finger, sliding into her waiting pussy. Then two. The phone dropped to her side, her freed hand groping her breast.

She didn't bother to read the poll question: "Should the Subject cum?" Which, of course, came to a "no" vote several more times, before the question was changed to, "Should the Subject ever cum again?"

I just think it would be hot to be controlled through a phone app! I like seeing magical phone apps in hypnokink and TF stories. I think it would be hot if someone changed who I was or controlled what I did with casual boredom like they’re just fiddling with a phone game

[starboye]

starring: pedro pascal x male reader

request: My idea was something like Pedro pascal x male reader (if it works a femboy male reader) and like it's was just a normal day but reader was a bit horny and asked him if he wanted to fuck and stuff and it began with soft Sex but ended up rough Sex leaving m!reader a moaning and stuttering mess but pedro pascal didn't stop

warnings: smut, cursing, daddy kink, rough sex, creampie,unprotected sex

it was a fairly boring day, you and pedro just sitting around all day doing nothing but you wanted some action (preferably sexual action) so you took it upon yourself to walk downstairs, finding pedro just watching tv and laying on the couch "pedroooo" you whine walking over to him "yes love" he answered sitting up and putting you on his lap.

"im bored" you pouted your bottom li at him making him chuckle lightly "then what would you like to do" he questioned "i had and idea or two" you teased him, hand trailing down to grope his crotch before kissing him "mm tell me more" pedro smirks as his boner grows more and more in his pants "i'll just show you" you say grabbing his hand and bringing him up to your shared room, undressing revealing some cute lacy panties for him.

pedro's quick to strip his clothes off and hop in bed with you, pulling you into a deep kiss as you slowly stroked his growing member before he was rock hard and needed to slip in something, you lathering some of your spit onto his cock and laying back, watching pedro slowly push in with a shuddering breath.

"fuck baby you feel so good" pedro lets out as his hips slowly move back and forth in you, his hands tightly holding your hips to keep you under him "you like that tight hole huh daddy" you moan and surprisingly that made something click in pedros mind, you had never called him something like that and god did he love the sound of that coming from you.

"can you call me that again" pedro mutters into your neck, nipping at your skin leaving hickeys "oh i just love your fat cock daddy" you whimper out once more making pedro go quicker, asking you to say it more and more and the more you said it the faster he fucked into you leaving you a stuttering mess as the sex went on and on.

"fuck me harder daddy" you whined loudly, pedro spreading your legs further and further apart to get deeper in that sweet hole he was wrecking, to silence you overwhelming (mainly to not get questioned by the neighbors) moans pedro shoved his fingers into your mouth turning your moans into muffled whimpers.

"shit baby, want daddy to fill your hole with cum" pedro asked through heavy grunts "mhmmm" you whined out and with that pedro emptied his balls into you, his hips not even stuttering a bit nor did he stop after cumming, fucking his load deeper and deeper into you.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[slimybeth69]

"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol. 

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?” 

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?” 

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol. 

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.” 

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?” 

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up. 

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?” 

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself. 

Probably being sad. 

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around. 

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go. 

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything. 

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone. 

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone. 

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar. 

“Whaddya doin’ here?” 

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him. 

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.  

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket. 

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive. 

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed. 

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home. 

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be. 

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too. 

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen. 

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions. 

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react. 

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off. 

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants— 

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing? 

He should go home. 

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company. 

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea. 

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was. 

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.” 

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous. 

How are you so nice? Sweet? 

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol. 

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age. 

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.” 

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt. 

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less. 

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets. 

Something you might regret. 

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you. 

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance. 

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time. 

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life. 

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch. 

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away. 

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time. 

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey. 

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change. 

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?” 

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.” 

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster. 

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch. 

“You know what.” 

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all. 

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air. 

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.” 

He and you both know that’s not true. 

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note. 

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg. 

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[jiinxswife]

Proposal. Jinx x fem!reader

summary- marrying Jinx wasnt something you expected, but since youre doing it, you must do it right

jinx x fem!reader, no spoilhers (i think), barely any use of she\her pronous

jinx will be written on blue, reader on purple

Marrying jinx wasnt something you planned, fuck, falling so hard for Zaun`s biggest terrorist and most insane girl wasnt in your plans, but what else can you do when all you could think of in the last months is about how badly you want to put a ring on your gilfriend`s finger?

Its almost impossible to not sweat as you use blacklight ink to paint the pillars of a Zaun`s abandoned building, forming different paintings, that roughly represented, on the best manner you could, moments of you and Jinx on each pillar, forming a beautiful artwork that could only be seen under UV light, that was shinning over you and your work due to the Blacklight Lamp that you luckly managed to steal from your girlfriend without much struggle.

Done painting the walls as you pleased, you move to the floor, its dusty and dirty, like the rest of the place, but you dont care much, trowing some ink on it, you use one of your feet to sloppily drag the spilled ink around, forming a heart shape, not trying to make the form perfect, knowing that Jinx likes things coming out more messy and natural, and in the end, the heart shape comes like that, sloppy, messy and natural, familiar, like your love for her. In the middle of the heart, you write "jinx", for where you want her to stand at, and "yn", for where you are going to be

When everything is done, you move to turn off the Blacklight Lamp you had placed as high as you could, and that was working due to a batery you stole from someone from piltover, with the lights off, your painting dissapear, as the expected, leaving you in the dark, only with the moonlight to lead your way, and with the scenario done and ring on your pocket, you now just have to go get jinx

jinx curved herself on her worshop, focused on creating something, probably a grenade or new pistol, unable to hear your approach due to the loud, banging music she was hearing, "get jinxed". you aproach the phonograph, cause of the sound and turns it off, the sudden silence getting her attention, making her look at you uh? toots?

jinx asks, turning her chair to look at you, an amused and yet playfully smirk creeping down her lips as she looks at you

you're not the one i expected to be killing my mood -she teases with a dry chuckle as she adds rather playfully- maybe youre spending too much time with silco

yeah, maybe, whatever, just- follow me you say to her, grabbing her hand and dragging her outside of her hideout,earning from her an amused chuckle and mumble, that you cant quite understand due to how loud your heart is beating on your chest, ears ringing in anxiety and antecipation i have a surprise a surprise? jinx asks, following you, her smirk getting a more curious undertone thats unlike you she states, before she stops walking when you do, both of you facing what for jinx is just another Zaun's abandoned building oh my gosh she says, faking a gasp and happiness thats it? its oh-soooo perfect, i adored it, what could be better... she speaks, starting to circle you, like a shark with its prey then to need to stop working to be dragged to an abandoned building on the middle of the night? fuck you, jinx you say with a mix of offense and playfullness as you move away from her, in the direction of your improvised lightswitch, turning the Blacklight Lamp on, earning from jinx a small yelp as she looks around, eyes shinning at the just revealed images

when- how? why? she asks, looking around, a bit stunned as she moves closer to the pillars, fingers softly tracing the glowing ink, a smirk, no, a smile forming on her face as she looks at your artwork, before at you alright toots, maybe this wasnt a complete waste of time

her words earn a chuckle from you and, before even answering her, you take her hands in yours, leading her to the middle of the heart drawn on the floor, that she just noticed now, due to your gaze towards it. leaving her on the spot with her name, you go to the one with yours, getting on your knees, looking up at her, seeing her tensing up and taking a small step back jinx. i really love you, and i quite cant see myself without you anymore.. you say, a blush foorming on your cheeks as you take a deep breath, taking out of your pocket a ring box and opening it i want everything from you, your happiness, your sadness, your trouble, so, jinx, do you.. want to make it official? would you give me the blessing of marrying you?

[lacydollette]

BLESSING IN DISGUISE — CHAPTER SEVEN

PAIRING lovely kook!reader (x rafe) x sarah cameron

WARNING(S) flashbacks, reader being confused about her feelings, sarah giving advice, slight fluff, explicit language, chocking, nightmares

SUMMARY torn between your resurfaced feelings for rafe and the attraction towards jj you can’t seem to find peace. so when Sarah notices your unusual quietness she can’t hold back anymore and convinces you to tell her everything.

“This,” Sarah said, taking a sip of her wine and pointing toward the sunset, “is exactly what I needed. No drama, no chaos. Just us, the ocean, and wine. Perfect.” You leaned back on one of the deck chairs of your little yacht, sunglasses perched on your nose. Sarah stretched out beside you, her blonde hair catching the light as she adjusted her bikini strap and sighed satisfied.

You smiled, letting yourself relax into the moment. It had been a while since you felt this kind of peace. Between the chaos of your own feelings, fights, and everything else, a girls’ day with Sarah felt like a breath of fresh air. But as the hours passed, the silence between you began to shift. You could feel Sarah’s gaze flicking to you now and then, her usual easygoing nature replaced with curiosity.

Finally, she sat up, setting her glass down with a soft clink. “Okay,” she said, her voice cutting through the calm atmosphere, “spill.” You turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” Yet you knew exactly what she was referring to.

She hesitated, biting her lip, “The argument with Rafe at the bonfire. What the hell happened? I mean, I know Rafe can be… Rafe, but that was different. There’s something going on, and don’t even try to deny it.” You sighed, leaning back in your chair and pulling off your sunglasses. “Sarah—”

“Don’t ‘Sarah’ me,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “I’m your best friend. I can tell when something’s up. And this thing with Rafe? It’s definitely a thing. So spill.”

You hesitated, mind racing. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sarah—you trusted her more than anybody. But saying it out loud, admitting everything, was coming to the conclusion that the whole thing was real, and that you’d have to deal with it. “Look,” Sarah said softly, scooting closer to you. “I get it. Whatever it is, it’s complicated. But I’m not here to judge. I’m here because I care about you. And I know my brother can be..a dick. So please, just tell me.”

Her words finally got to you, and you exhaled shakily, setting your glass aside. “Fine,” you murmured. “But you’re right—it’s complicated. Really complicated.” Sarah nodded, her expression encouraging, and you began.

“It started at Midsummers,” you said, your voice quiet. “There was this fight—Rafe and I. I don’t even remember what sparked it exactly, but things got heated. He said some things, I said some things…and then later I wanted to clear my head and took a walk, that’s when I came across Nate.” Sarah’s brows furrowed. “Nate? As in Nate Thompson?”

You nodded, a chill running down your spine at the memory. “Yeah. At first, I thought he was just trying to be friendly, you know? But then…he wasn’t. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I didn’t know how to get away.” Sarah’s hand shot out to grab yours, her grip tight. “What did he do?” she asked, her voice trembling with anger.

“He cornered me,” you admitted, your throat tightening. “And I was scared, Sarah. I didn’t know what to do. So in the last second I texted Rafe…and he showed up.” Sarah’s eyes widened, and she leaned closer. “What happened?”

“He pulled Nate off me,” you said, the memory flashing vividly in your mind. “And when Nate wouldn’t back down, Rafe…” You swallowed hard. “Rafe beat the shit out of him. I mean, really went after him. I had to yell at him to stop before he went too far.” Sarah let out a slow breath, her grip on your hand loosening slightly. “That’s..fuck. That’s horrible. Is this why he’s been so on edge?” she muttered.

You nodded. “After that, things got…weird between us. There was this tension—like, we were both trying to pretend it wasn’t, but it was there. And then he started pulling away. He got colder, more distant. I tried to talk to him, but it was like he’d put up this wall, and I couldn’t break through.”

“And then the bonfire,” Sarah said, piecing it together. “Yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “I saw him standing there, and I couldn’t just ignore him anymore. I tried to talk to him, but he shut me out—again. And when I brought up everything that’s happened, he threw it back in my face. He even accused me of…of messing around with JJ, when it’s clearly not his business.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “Rafe said that?” You nodded, feeling the sting of his words all over again. “He was so angry, Sarah. And I was angry, too. It turned into this whole thing, and then JJ got involved, and…yeah. You saw how that ended.”

Sarah didn’t respond, just offered you some simple comfort which you appreciated more than anything. You looked down at your hands, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted. “I keep telling myself I should walk away, that he’s too much. But then I think about everything he’s done—how he’s tried to protect me, even when it hurts. And I just…I can’t let go.”

Then, out of nowhere, Sarah turned to you, her voice cutting through the quietness. “Do you still love him?”

The question hit you like a punch to the guts. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You glanced away, suddenly finding the wine glass in your hand much more interesting than the intensity in her eyes. “Do you?” she pressed, leaning forward slightly.

You sighed, setting the glass down and running a hand through your hair. “I…I don’t know, Sarah,” you admitted, though the hesitation in your voice betrayed you.

Her expression softened, but only slightly. “You do,” she said quietly, her words not a question but a statement. “You still love him. Even after everything.” You didn’t respond, and that silence said more than words ever could. Sarah shook her head, letting out a dry laugh. “God, you’re both so hopeless,” she said, though her tone held a trace of affection beneath the exasperation. “He’s put you through hell, you know that, right?”

“I know.. Believe me, I know.” you whispered, your voice heavy with emotion. “And yet, here you are,” she continued, gesturing between the two of you. “Sitting on this yacht, tearing yourself apart over him. And I know him, too. Rafe’s probably doing the same thing right now, in his own messed-up way.” You looked up at her, surprised by her understanding. “You think he…?”

“Loves you?” Sarah interrupted. “Yeah, I do. As much as he’s capable of loving anyone, at least. But that doesn’t mean he’s good for you, or that this whole back-and-forth is healthy for either of you.”

She paused, studying you closely. “And what about jj?” she added, her voice softer now. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way you’ve been spending more time with him. It’s like he’s your safe place when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.”

You bit your lip, the weight of her words sinking in. She wasn’t wrong. JJ had been a constant presence in your life these past few weeks—funny, kind, and steady in a way that Rafe never was. But as much as you cared for him, your heart felt tangled up in something far more complicated.

Sarah reached out, taking your hand in hers again. “You need to make a decision,” she said gently but firmly. “This thing with Rafe and JJ? It’s not fair to either of them, or to you. You have to figure out what you want, and who you want to be with.” You swallowed hard, the weight of her advice settling heavily on your shoulders. “What if I make the wrong choice?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah squeezed your hand, her expression softening. “There’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ choice here,” she said. “There’s just what feels right for you. But you need to figure it out, because dragging this out is only going to hurt everyone involved.”

You nodded slowly, the truth of her words sinking in. “Thanks, Sarah,” you said, your voice quiet but sincere. “Of course,” she replied, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “And no matter what happens, I’ve got your back. Always.”

As the yacht gently rocked beneath you, you leaned back into your chair, staring out at the endless ocean. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you were starting to see things clearly. Now all you had to do was make up your mind.

“Come on,” Rafe whispered, his grin infectious as he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from tannyhill. “Let’s get out of here before my dad ropes us into some lecture about responsibility.”

You followed him, laughing as the two of you sprinted past the yard and down towards the beach, leaving behind the faint hum of the party. The adrenaline of sneaking away had both of you giggling like little kids.

Eventually, you stopped in a neighbor’s backyard, Rafe doubling over and panting like he’d just finished a marathon. “Out of shape already, Cameron?” you teased, leaning against a fence and crossing your arms. “What are you, an old man?”

He looked up, still catching his breath, and gave you a glare. “You wanna say that again, smartass?” You smirked, tilting your head. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I fetch your cane, Grandpa?” Rafe straightened up, a mischievous glint in his eye.

But before he could reply, the sudden flicker of a porch light snapped you both to attention. The faint murmur of voices drifted through the air, and without thinking, Rafe grabbed your wrist and pulled you behind a small garden cabin. “Shit,” he whispered, his voice low and hurried as the two of you pressed up against the wooden wall.

Your heart pounded in your chest, not from fear, but from the electric tension that crackled between you. Rafe’s body was close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the sweet scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of tequila. His hand was still on your wrist, his grip firm but not rough. “Nice move, genius,” you whispered, your lips inches from his ear. “Now we’re stuck.”

“Shh,” he hissed, turning his head toward you. His face was so close that you could see the faint freckles dusting his nose, the way his blue eyes glistened even in the dim light. “I’m just saying,” you murmured, your tone playful despite the situation. “Maybe next time we sneak off, you pick a better spot for a pit stop.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in closer, his chest brushing against yours as he peered around the corner to check if the coast was clear. The porch light still on, but the voices were moving farther away. “We’re fine,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. But neither of you moved.

The air between you grew heavier, the space shrinking until it felt like there was nothing left but the two of you. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath, the faint tremble in his hands as they hovered near your sides. “Rafe, I—“ you mumbled, your voice softer now, uncertain. He looked down at you, his eyes searching yours. And then, before you could say anything else, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed or harsh, but it wasn’t gentle either. His lips were warm and firm against yours, his hands finding their way to your waist as though they belonged there. The world fell away, the faint hum of the party, the glow of the porch light, the thrill of sneaking away—it all disappeared.

For those few moments, there was only him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathless. “Well,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “that definitely shut you up.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart still racing.

But just as the sweetness lingered, something shifted.

Rafe’s gentle, playful expression began to change. His warm blue eyes darkened, clouded with something sharp and unrecognizable. His soft hands, the ones that had held your waist so carefully, moved to your throat, his fingers curling tightly around your neck.

“R-Rafe,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. The world around you darkened. His grip tightened, his once familiar touch now terrifying, cutting off your airflow.

His face loomed closer, but it wasn’t the Rafe you’d kissed behind the garden cabin. His features twisted with anger, his lips curling into something cruel, exactly like the last night you had seen each other before you left. “You think you can leave me?” he hissed, his voice sharp and menacing.

Your chest burned as you struggled, your hands clawing at his wrist, desperate for air. The world a big blur, and just when you thought you’d pass out, it all shattered. You woke with panic in your bones, gasping for breath, your chest heaving. The darkness of the room pressed down on you, but it was real, you were fine.

Turning your head, you found Sarah lying peacefully beside you, her blonde hair splayed out over the pillow, her soft breaths steady and calm. The sight of her brought you back to reality, the terror of the dream slowly fading away. You pressed a trembling hand to your throat, reassuring yourself that there was no hand there, no pressure cutting off your air. It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

LINKS .ᐟ series’ masterlist

LTAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @glitterybombshell @beausling @rafescokewhore @rafeysbunny @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeysprincess @starzify @drewspinkbunny @whinyangel @nativegirltapes @littlelamy @lizziesangel @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @lilithblackkk @maybankslover

[seiwas]

sniff hiccs i’m back begging for mattsun + friends -> lovers + stomach (ALSO ILY)

thanks for sending saint!! sorry i'm getting to this so late, ily 🥺

mattsun + stomach + friends -> lovers

contains: pining mattsun, christmas fluff!, seijoh 4 dynamics bc ofc they are a scheming conniving bunch, kind of ambiguous?? but there is def something, suggestive innuendos, fluff!!!!!!!!

ugly christmas sweaters aren't issei's thing. not one bit.

they're itchy, first and foremost, and you'd think, with something that horrendous, they might as well have some kind of redeeming quality (like wool-soft thermal lining)—but nope, they're equally as uncomfortable as they are ugly.

the hem of this year's sweater, in particular, rides up his disproportionally long torso, making it impossible for him to reach forward or upward for anything. the cuffs of his sleeves land at that awkward length that just barely covers his wrists, leaving his fingertips cold. for issei, an essential criteria of any good sweater is that the sleeves must be long enough for him to pull over his knuckles—a quality that this one definitely does not have.

plus, it's ugly. (did he already mention that?)

"oh shit," takahiro wheezes, holding in his laughter as he reads the text on issei's sweater. he bites down his side comment and nods his head instead, "i respect it."

issei stares at him, deadpan.

since arriving at hajime's apartment for your group's yearly christmas celebration, issei's kept himself confined to the kitchen. there are many reasons for this: one, the alcohol is much easier to refill back here; two, not everyone's arrived yet; and three—

"'unwrap me, baby?'" hajime steps into the space, eyebrow raised as he tilts his head at the very obvious red bow adorning issei's sweater. the gold text on the fabric is even more evident.

"i swear," takahiro tells hajime as he swings an arm around issei's shoulder, "if this isn't his profession of lo―"

"shut the fuck up," the taller male elbows him as hajime chuckles across the room, "it's the stupid theme."

issei hates christmas sweaters, and yet every year, without fail, you manage to rope him in to wearing one away. regardless of its stupid theme.

"well, they should be around ten minutes out," hajime replies, checking the notifications on his smart watch, "so if you plan to… you know…”

issei shrugs, taking another sip from his glass of gin, "s'just a small crush."

but everyone knows it's much more than that.

.

you and tooru arrive with arms full of gifts. one by one, you approach them, present in one hand as you go in for a hug with the other. it's a typical, normal thing you do, but his heart instantly hammers the moment you stand in front of him. the soft smile you give him is one he knows well, and if he wants to be a little hopeful, it's one he thinks you give to him, alone, too.

your arm wraps around issei's waist as you lean in for a hug, the blend of your shampoo and perfume hitting him all at once. the alcohol has done much to ease his mind, but little to dull his senses, his arm instinctively bringing you closer. when you linger in his hold for just that bit longer, all his thoughts turn silent.

everyone’s known of this thing between you and issei for a while; it's hard not to notice after all the years of mutual pining and undeniable chemistry. it’s even gotten to the point that tooru’s added the event of you and issei getting together to his christmas wishlist.

but, you always say you don't think issei sees you like that, because if he did, he would have said something by now. which, to issei's defense, the only reason he hasn't said anything is because the last time someone tried to ask you out, you said, "i'm not looking for a relationship right now."

takahiro argues that it's been a few years since then, and that your answer would have been very different should issei have been the one to ask. but still.

"'santa baby, oh baby yes baby,'" hajime squints at your christmas sweater, reading the words slowly.

"dude, you have to stop reading that shit out loud," takahiro groans.

tooru laughs from the couch, "unwrap me, baby’ and that? cute! you’re talking through your sweaters."

issei's expression remains unbothered as he watches you turn shy, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before walking over to join tooru on the couch.

"at least issei's the only one who takes the themes seriously,” you jokingly huff and pout.

.

issei should have known his friends were up to no good tonight, with the outright teasing and the weird way hajime’s been acting this entire time.

the kitchen is surprisingly full right after dinner; cleanup duty is typically left to you and issei because it’s the only other thing the both of you can do—plus, it makes for a perfect combination: your speediness in cleaning the countertops and his ease in handling dinner plates make for an efficient team.

but tonight, everyone’s seemed to fit themselves into the tiny space, pushing you closer and closer to one another.

“mattsun, can you pass that big bowl in the cupboard?” tooru calls out, pointing at the space overhead.

issei’s gaze follows the direction of his finger, his arm reaching up high to get it.

then, it happens too quickly after that.

from an ‘accidental’ bump to a slight shove, hajime backs up into takahiro who manages to push you out of balance, leading you to cling on to the next best thing to keep you standing—

which just so happens to be issei’s stomach, lean muscles and smooth skin on full display from the way his christmas sweater has ridden up while reaching for the bowl that tooru just so happened to coincidentally ask for.

he shivers almost instantly—whether from the coolness of your fingertips or the plain fact that it’s you, he has yet to determine.

you look flustered, apologising profusely as you turn to move away, but as everyone else seems to exit the space, issei puts his hand over yours to keep you in place.

the action makes you still.

“you okay?” he manages, still a little dazed as his eyes look for yours.

the stare you return is a mixed bag of shock, confusion, and uncertainty—as if you’re not sure if you’re reading into this correctly.

so maybe it’s the alcohol, but when he jokingly asks, “taking ‘unwrapping me’ literally, huh?” while motioning to his sweater, he doesn’t think much beyond the intention of trying to lighten up the mood—of trying to make you laugh despite the awkwardness of the situation.

your eyebrows shoot up briefly before you dissolve into stifled laughs. the hand you’d rested on his stomach relaxes and you feel him do the same, his subtle sigh of relief blowing small wisps of hair away from your forehead.

this is enough for him—just the two of you in the kitchen, laughing over another one of these mishaps like it’s happened plenty of times before (because it has; too many times that he wonders if it’s normal for friends to find themselves in these situations).

but you push it just that bit further and tease him back, snorting as you mimic the words on your sweater, “guess i should say ‘santa baby, oh baby yes baby.’”

and if you both notice the evident hardness pressing into your thigh, neither you nor issei says a thing about it.

a/n: this def crosses a boundary in their friendship and they get together after a few days, just in time for new year’s 😌 unmentioned but reader has also had the fattest crush on mattsun since forever, they’re just really good at hiding it. and reader also thinks that mattsun is just naturally flirty with everyone else (he isn’t).

[what-have-i-unleashed]

three cheers for your ego

hello mtt nation, i am here with my promised angsty christmas fic, as part of my defeat of my evil twin in the twinter war (i am the better twin now obviously). enjoy, and happy holidays >:3

When Sans comes back home from a tiring scouting mission, he immediately notices something is off. The food rations he’s so sure were left near the kitchen entryway are gone. That meager bits of fresh meat he’s scraped together for Gyftmas just simply… disappeared.

“what happened to the food?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

His younger brother, seated on the sofa in the living room, flinches but doesn’t look away from his intense blood red gaze. His hands twist nervously in his lap. “I… I GAVE IT TO THE BUNNIES.”

“you what?” Sans says, voice deceptively quiet. His whole body goes rigid and his fists clenches, threatening to break off the door handle he’s gripping.

“THEY NEED IT MORE THAN WE DID – THAN I DID,” Papyrus replies, his voice carefully laced with a tone of defiance that is not very helpful right now. “AND… IT’S GYFTMAS.”

Sans thunders across the room as he stands before papyrus, his teeth clenched so hard he can hear them grinding in his skull. “what does that even mean?! who the hell cares if it’s gyftmas?! that was all we had! do you understand what you’ve done?!”

Papyrus shoots up on his feet, his frame towering over Sans’ short stature. Sans unconsciously takes a step back, momentarily surprised by his brother’s reaction.

“I UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY,” Papyrus says, his voice low and steady. “THEY HAVE KIDS, SANS. LITTLE ONES. AND THEY ARE HUNGRY AND COLD. DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO NOTHING? TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM?”

“yes!” Sans snaps. “exactly that! if we starve, who’s gonna save us? who’s gonna keep you alive?!”

Papyrus’ face twists in discomfort, but he stands his ground. “I DO THINK ABOUT IT, BROTHER,” he says, his voice soft. “IT’S UNCOMFORTABLE TO THINK ABOUT. BUT, WHAT’S THE POINT OF SURVIVING IF WE’RE JUST… CANNIBALIZING EACH OTHER IN THE PROCESS, LIKE WHAT’S HAPPENING IN OTHER PLACES? IN SNOWDIN, WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A COMMUNITY, SANS.”

“oh, spare me the sentimental piece,” Sans growls. “do you know how hard it is to get food around here? and you just threw it away to some family who wouldn’t lift a finger to help us if the tables were turned!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Papyrus shoots back, his voice slightly trembling. “KINDNESS STILL EXISTS! NOT EVERYONE IS LIKE YOU!”

The words hang in the air like a shotgun. Papyrus looks shocked at what came out of his mouth, but he doesn’t look sorry. Sans stares back at him, mouth open like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Without a word, he turns on his heel and storms towards the door, anger rolling from him in waves.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Papyrus demands, rushing to block Sans’ path. Sans glares at him, irritated.

“where do you think?” he hisses, his eye narrowing dangerously. “i’m taking our food back.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO ROB THEM?!” Papyrus gasps, disbelief making way to horror. “THEY HAVE KIDS, SANS!! AND THEY HAVE NOTHING TO EAT!!”

“well, too bad then,” Sans spits. “no one steals from me. and the bunnies will learn real quick what happens when someone does. they’re gonna have a mad time.” A feral grin spreads across his face.

Papyrus stands in front of the door, defiant. “NO.”

“out of my way, paps.”

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU!”

“you think you can stop me? i can easily shortcut pass you.”

“I KNOW! BUT IT’S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING, AS YOUR BROTHER! IF YOU CROSS ME, I’LL WHACK YOU TIL YOU SEE SOME SENSE IN THAT CRACKED HEAD OF YOURS!!” Papyrus crosses his arms, disapproving.

“you think you’re so much better than me? you think you can survive on morals alone?”

“NO,” Papyrus replies, his voice soft. “I JUST WANT TO BE BETTER THAN THIS.”

After an eternity, Sans drops his coat and lies on the sofa, the tension in the room lessening but still palpable.

“well, merry fucking gyftmas then,” he mutters. “i hope you’re happy with this.”

The frozen streets are silent, blanketed with layers of dust and snow. The streetlights flicker weakly as Sans makes his way towards the party venue and his favorite spot in Snowdin – Grillby’s. The place is quiet and empty, but bears a feast of dusty wine bottles, cold cinnabuns, and some canned goods. Sans hums a strange, broken tune as he prepares the table.

“paps, do you think this will be enough?” he asks, holding up a container of homemade soup he made by himself. He turns to the younger skeleton lingering near the jukebox, whose face is skeptical but amused.

“I THINK THAT SHOULD SUFFICE, BROTHER!” Papyrus says. “NO ONE WOULD EXPECT MUCH FROM YOU LAZYBONES, SO NO NEED TO BE SO WORRIED!”

Sans chuckles, putting the soup container onto the table. “you’re right, paps. shouldn’t be too important how it tastes – it’s the intention that counts.”

He walks up to the jukebox to see if it still works. A bit rusty from underuse, but he can fix it in a flash, no problem.

As he works, Papyrus trails behind him, his voice teasing. “WOW, YOU’RE REALLY PUTTING IT ALL THIS YEAR OF ALL TIME, HUH? FOOD, DECORATION, MUSIC, ALL THAT JAZZ. NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

“ha, good one, paps,” Murder snorts, then in a softer tone he continues. “it’s gyftmas. it’s supposed to be a special day. i guess… i just wanted to do something different, something new, this time. something nice. for you. for everyone else too.”

The next minutes are draped in silence, but the more comforting kind as Sans tinkers with the jukebox. Papyrus’ voice breaks it for just a moment. “IT’S WEIRD SEEING YOU SO… SENTIMENTAL.”

Sans doesn’t answer, busying himself with fixing the broken machine and then with arranging cracked plates and mismatched cutlery. He tries to be as meticulous as possible, careful not to disturb the frail air of festivity he has created in this small space. It should be a wonderful day today after all.

When everything is done, Sans sits in his place, reserving the place next to him for his brother. No one has arrived yet, but he guesses he can always start the feast early, a private celebration between him and Papyrus.

He pours a glass of wine for himself, then one for his brother. Papyrus looks a bit affronted at being offered a drink, but he doesn’t complain, so that should be good enough.

“a toast.” Sans raises his glass. “to time. to the end of a year. to family. to… the ones we’ve lost.” He clinks his glass softly against Papyrus, who doesn’t pick it up but does sigh, an exasperatedly fond sound.

“to you, sans. to your newfound resolution. and holding on to your goal for once in your life.”

Sans drinks, and drinks even more. The guests start to pour in, their voices echoing around him but muffled as if he was underwater. Only Papyrus is clear in the cacophony – a beacon of light he can hold onto in this strange but joyous time. Sans laughs at the jokes coming from Papyrus, his voice bouncing off the walls of the bar. He smiles as he listens to Papyrus recount the things he can’t be sure are real in his inebriated state – childhood memories, plans for the future, a warmth that doesn’t spread to his snow-soaked bones anymore.

So, he drinks again. And again. And again.

As the nights wear on, some things start to slip through to his foggy mind. Plates that remain untouched. Wine bottles that remain unpoured. The soup he made sit alone on the table, growing colder by the second.

And yet, Sans still smiles. At his brother, who hasn’t changed at all. “thanks for staying this time,” he whispers, trying to touch Papyrus’ hand but stopping at the last moment, the distance between them so small yet so inexplicably big at the same time.

“OF COURSE, SANS,” Papyrus says, a faint grin on his severed skull. “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE.”

It has been raining snow a lot these past few days in the town. A normal monster would be freezing out in the snow, but, well, he’s hardly a normal monster anymore, is he? Few things phase him at this point, and the cold isn’t one of them.

He knows he isn’t supposed to get close to anyone, but he can’t help it when his friend hasn’t been here with him for months now and the light show in the snowy town is too tantalizing to pass up. So he goes in, wearing a large puffy coat and some hat and scarf to cover his whole face up – a perfect disguise. Now he looks like one of the children playing around near the big tree in the town center. Just a normal, socially awkward child standing near a building, watching his peers mess around from afar. It isn’t exactly fun, but it’s something to do to sate off the gnawing boredom in his chest.

And then, he sees them again.

A skeleton monster just like him – how peculiar. He was interested of course, but something has held him back, something nagging at him at the back of his mind. He can’t name it exactly, but it makes his SOUL pang uncomfortably in his ribs, as if warning him of something. So, he is content with just staying back, idly watching the scene play out.

The strange skeleton monster has been doing this for days – asking people around about their sibling, someone with a name that keeps slipping away from his mind. Again, how odd. Everything about this skeleton monster is odd, from the way they tower over most people yet never intimidate anyone, to the way they enthusiastically play and talk with the town’s children like it’s second nature to them. They’re an opposite of him, and yet-

Ah, whatever. It’s no use thinking about it anyway.

He watches as the skeleton monster again asking the townsfolk about their brother again. And again no one has any clue where the missing person can be. The monster looks dejected, but only for a moment. The resilience… it would be heartwarming to see if he had one.

He subconsciously takes a few steps when the monster finally stops at the giant tree with presents underneath it. He has taken some of the presents for himself, and no one seems to have noticed so far. The skeleton monster looks up at the tree, which has a star on top of it. When he gets just close enough, he can vaguely make out what they’re saying.

“-I WISH THAT THIS GYFTMAS, MY BROTHER WILL RETURN HOME! HE STILL HASN’T PICKED UP HIS SOCKS, NYEH!” the monster grumbles, then in a softer tone continues with a mournful sigh. “… I WISH I HAD SEEN THE SIGNS. HE HASN’T ALWAYS BEEN THE MOST CHEERFUL PERSON, BUT I THOUGHT HE’D TELL ME IF SOMETHING’S WRONG. I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED… I DON’T KNOW WHY HE LEFT… I FEAR THAT- NO, THAT’S- I WOULD KNOW ABOUT IT, SURELY!”

The phantom watches the whole scene slow around him. There’s something about this monster that feels familiar to him yet fills him with dread. They’re… weak. Vulnerable. Sentimental to a fault. In this world, it’s kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. There’s no place for kindness when everyone is out to get you.

But, looking at this monster, whose eyelights sparkle under the lights, he feels an urge to avert his eyes, something clawing at his red-hot deadened SOUL. A memory flickers in his jumbled mind: his friend showing him the real stars on the surface, twinkling like their carefree eyes.

Ah, isn’t he forgetting something?

He turns away, boots crunching in the snow as he disappears into the shadows. This is just a distraction – a fun yet trivial thought experiment. But the image of the monster standing under the Gyftmas tree, wishing for something impossible, stays in his mind long after he’s gone.

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers day 25: Holiday alone time. No pairing. A bit of Max&GP. About 1.2k words.

Max sits down on the carpet, back against the couch, setting his glass of gin tonic down beside him.

The house is quiet, and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall back right beside where Sassy is curled up, listening to her breathing.

It's weird to be alone at Christmas.

He can't remember it ever happening before. Even in the worst years, when money was tight and home wasn't always a happy place, he was never alone.

It's not that he lacked invitations. His mom had called several times telling him to go, and Victoria had invited him too. Even some of his friends had reached out, telling him about their plans, asking him to join. But for the first time, all Max wanted for Christmas was silence.

He had plans lined up for the weeks after new years, and for the months after that, but the idea of having to be Max Verstappen for one more minute had been unbearable.

So he had told everyone he was busy, he had plans, he was fine, and then he had closed himself in his house and had let his brain go quiet.

He shifts slightly, moving his head closer to Sassy, nuzzling her side with his nose until she chirps at him, curling away.

"Just you and I, Sassy girl," he murmurs, attempting to kiss her paw and failing, only succeeding in making her shift further away. Somewhere in the kitchen, he hears Jimmy hops down from a chair, never one to be left out.

When he had told Victoria his plans for the holidays, she had asked him if he was having a midlife crisis too early, which is a stupid thing to say, because you never know when the middle of your life is. And also, Max is not having a crisis.

He's just...tired.

He had thought that retirement would mean finally having time to himself, but so far, two full weeks into it, this was the first day he had felt like he could leave his phone on the table and not having to check it. The first day he had nothing on his schedule. No meetings, no sponsor dinners, no videos to film, no streams to entertain.

Just him, his drink, and his cats.

He lets his eyes fall closed, a hand instinctively going to cover his glass, because Jimmy is always sticking his nose where he shouldn't.

He knows sitting on the floor is not the smartest choice, he can feel a twinge in his lower back already, but the carpet feels nice under his fingers, and he doesn't feel like getting up.

Jimmy's wet nose bumps against his wrist, nosing along the rim of the glass, and Max chuckles, opening one eye to look down at him, predictably finding him trying to get into his gin tonic.

"That's not for kittens," he chides softly, pushing him away and then dragging him close with his free hand. Jimmy, contrary to what Sassy would have done, lets himself be moved around and placed in his lap, already purring.

For a while, they just stay like that. Sassy breathing, Jimmy purring and Max just listening. Quiet.

Then Max's phone chimes once, making him jump.

He doesn't want to check it. He doesn't want to have to be a person again, even if just for the time it would take to answer a text, but he reaches for it anyway, the worry that it could be something important gnawing at him.

Should I be worried about you?

Max frowns, looking at the text from GP. No hellos, no how are yous, just that puzzling question. Their last conversation had been about the red bull Christmas party, about taking a car together.

No?

His phone immediately pings again, as if GP had been waiting for him to answer.

I heard you're hiding and the Max I know doesn't hide. So, should I be worried?

Who the fuck has been snitching to GP?

I am not hiding I am having some well earned alone time. I am perfectly fine.

He sends it before he can think too hard about it, not wanting to question if it's the whole truth. He is fine. There is nothing physically wrong with him, and he is content, sitting here with his cats. The fact that he also feels weirdly lost and exhausted doesn't change the fact that he is fine.

Do you want to come here?

That doesn't require much thinking. He's spent time with GP's family before, and they're lovely, but if he had wanted to spend time with people he would have gone home.

No thank you.

I can be in Monaco tomorrow.

Max pauses, fingers hesitating before he can type his refusal. He doesn't need anyone to come over. He's fine. And he still doesn't feel like having to be Max Verstappen, doesn't have the energy for it.

But GP is different. GP never made him feel like he should be anyone other than himself. And GP can be quiet, quiet enough to let Max's brain be silent too.

Are you bored of retirement already?

It's not a yes, or a no, but Max hopes that GP will figure it out anyway.

I'll be there for lunch. You can call me if you need anything.

GP always does.

Max drops his phone again to take a sip of his gin tonic, the ice melting in it already, then turning to try and nuzzle Sassy again.

In the safe space of his silent house he is finally able to admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, he isn't absolutely fine. He feels lost, like for the first time in his life he doesn't know what his next step is, and he feels tired, like his whole racing career caught up with him all at once.

But that's okay. GP will be here tomorrow, and he will sort him out. Because he always does.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

⋆𐙚❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔: Merry Christmas, Sleep Token Gift Exchange Edition

to: @wishicoulddisappear from: @pastlivesxpastlie but you can call me Wolfie ♡

I don't want to give it all the way, but just know there's praise and gentle dom!ii and best friends being naughty. I hope you love it ⟡ ݁₊ . read it on AO3

...and nobody else can pull me out ⚬ ii x vessel

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Vessel asked, lightly punching ii’s arm. The drummer’s smile just quirked up to one side and he shrugged. This wasn’t a good enough answer for Ves. “Mate, come on. What?”

“Just proud.”

“Proud?”

“Yes. Of you.”

They had just finished a show and were freshly showered. Nothing was out of the ordinary about the night. Sure everyone sounded great, the chemistry with the crowd was electric, but to Ves he just went out there, did what he always did, loved it, and called it a night. So why was his best friend looking at him like he won something? Vessel shrugged and looked away, focusing his eyes outside the hotel window. It felt good to hear this from ii. They respected the hell out of each other. They had to. How else could they create the work they did? But Vessel also knew that ii listened. Not just to the tracks and demos but him. ii really saw Vessel. Understood the idea and the feeling without Ves having to explain. He never had to explain. ii never expected him to explain because maybe it was painful, or maybe the magic would be ruined if the metaphors were taken apart. But more to the point, ii just got him. 

ii considered his friend for a moment, letting his eyes linger over his face and chest. Vessel’s chest wasn’t a new sight, but it is a welcome one for some reason tonight. Maybe because it was slightly rosy from blushing…moving up and down with slightly more effort. “What’s the matter, hm” ii smirks. “Hate hearing praise?”

There was that word again. Praise. Critics praised albums. A master praised a dog. A congregation praised a deity. “Why would you call it that?” Vessel himself was not worthy of praise. “It’s just a compliment. Call it what it is.” He can’t bring himself to look at ii, he just stares and the soft white hotel sheets. “Don’t be weird.”

“Look at me.” Finally, Vessel lets out a big huff and looks at ii. Good god, the intensity of his stare. Those blue eyes shot through him and held him in place. “How long have we been at this? Out of everyone…I am at liberty to praise you. I dare you to tell I’m wrong.”

This is triggering Vessel’s fight or flight response, yet he chooses to freeze. For all intents and purposes, ii is being kind but why is he being so firm? Vessel feels like he’s in trouble with a teacher and wonders to himself what could come of this if he just pushed…just a little. He snaps out of his frozen state and clears his throat. “Well you are wrong. You’re wrong about having liberties over me.” He rolls eyes. 

“Just accept the praise and move on. Say thank you, at least.”

“Christ’s sake. Thank you, kind sir, for your hard earned praise and respect,” Vessel scoffs, giving ii a bratty smirk.

“Oh there’s a good boy,” ii jokes as he walks towards where Ves sits on the bed, “was that so hard?”

“Oh no, eeeeaaaasiest thing I’ve ever done, mate. Wasn’t at all like getting a compliment from my mu—“ but he can’t get his sentence out. His chin is gripped in ii’s strong hands, and he’s being pulled up slightly.  Vessel doesn’t even want to ask why ii is acting the way he is and swats at his wrist, but ii moves faster. Damn it. Of course he does. ii grips Vessel’s wrist and leans in, ready to lay in to him, but the devil on his shoulder says ‘do it. Shut him up. Shut his slut mouth.’ Their lips collide in a hot, silent moment. Vessel pulls ii into his lap and wraps his arms around him tightly, his hands grasping under his tank top and explores

“Let’s get these clothes off…” ii hissed against the shell of Ves’s ear. Fuck…this was really happening. When they both have their pants off, ii moves to lay down but Ves stops him by cupping his wide, spidery hand over ii’s rib cage, right below his pec. ii shudders as Vessel’s thumb gently rubs against his nipple. “What…what is it?”

“Come back in my lap…please. Please?”  ii was a goner. He tried to keep up his gentle, guiding-hand mentality but Vessel’s pleas sought to break him. As soon as he straddles him again, ii lets his twitching cock slot right beside Vessel’s. They both moan softly as they stare down at each other’s erections…how they look side by side. ii balances himself on one hand and spits in the other. 

“Look at that….hey…Ves I said look at that.” Vessel bites his lip as ii strokes their cocks together in his one hand. “Doesn’t that look good? Doesn’t that look right? Hm,” ii rasps, looking at Vessel’s already glazed over and fucked out face. Ves wants to nod but he’s in awe. “Say it…say that it looks right. Say this is how it should be.”

“It looks…r-r-right…and…fuck…fuck…” Vessel wants to say more. To wax poetic about how good ii’s cock and strong hand feel against him. How the weight of his friend in his lap fills a void that was once nameless…but he sees now what he needs. His hands squeeze and knead ii’s perfect waist, eliciting a moan and arched back. Ves leans forward and places wet, gentle kisses in the middle of ii’s tattooed chest, savoring in his warmth, the smell of his body. He can feel ii’s grip start to wain, so he gently touches his wrist, signaling him to stop. “Let me do this for you…” ii has to bite his lip when Vessel’s wide hand envelopes their cocks. He bets this is how Ves strokes his own cock, a thought he has to push aside if he wants this to last. For once, ii doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He’s already kissing and frotting with his best friend, why can’t he just touch him? What’s so bad about that? His resolve breaks when Ves’s left hand cups ii’s asscheek and makes him buck into his hand. ii’s hands cup Vessel’s face and pulls him in for a hot, deep kiss. His touch has become gentle. Loving. It’s a manifestation of what lay under the firm praise he gave Vessel…he just wants Ves to know he’s loved and worthy. Finally the silence is broken when a sharp whine comes from Vessel’s throat, a signal that’s he close…but ii knows that. He’s heard it before. They’ve shared plenty of hotel rooms with paper thin walls and tour bus bunks with flimsy privacy curtains. But tonight, ii was making him sound like that, and fuck if we wasn’t proud. 

“Gonna cum for me? Hm? Show me how you get off…c’mon…” Vessel’s eyes roll back as he pathetically asks ii to spit on their cocks, a request ii can’t refuse. They both groan as the sensation intensifies with the added slick. “Let me see…bet you can get off quick…cheeky wank before we go on stage, yeah?”

“F-f-f-fuck off, mate,” Vessel sputters as he gets closer. The taunting is getting to him. He places his left hand on ii’s shoulder and presses him further in his lap. “Fuck my hand. Please. It…it..it’ll feel so good.” ii does as his best friend asks and lets out a growling moan. All ii wants is for Ves to cum on his cock and use it as lube and he gets his wish. The sensation of Vessel’s twitch and hot spurts thunder’s through ii’s smaller body and makes me him fuck into Ves’s fist harder…he imagines it’s his throat and he loses it. ii looks down in a daze at his broken lover, covered in their cum and sweat. Both of their chests heave as they come to. Finally, Vessel speaks. “I don’t regret that. But I will if I don’t take another shower.” 

ii leans down and licks a long, messy stripe up Ves’s pretty tummy. “Not done with you yet…good boy.”

[sass-ruby]

okay. HOLY FUCKING SHI-

Sun² (dark sun) looks like he's thriving LMAO 😭

Let me just say, THANK YOU MOON FOR BEING SO CURIOUS

I'm curious too, so this satisfied me so much

We got A LOT of information, and one VERY jaw dropping one

So.. sun² created a paradise for himself and others, most likely suns but not every sun. That- that honestly sounds so sweet 😭 I'm pretty sure by psychotic, sun² meant like- do things without thinking, go insane, kill for no reason ect ect.. since he doesn't like violence from what I've been able to gather. The violence he has probably committed, I am guessing was necessary because sun² thinks reasonably

But I wonder- do suns go there when they die? Like, heaven? There are already people there.. but are those people suns or random people??

His dragon is there to be a protector so, it's most likely dead suns I think..? To protect them? That'd be so sweet, I hope that's the case

Goliath died, oof 😭 I never cared much about him but that ONE THING he said to sun once;

"You..might be pathetic, but you're so much more than them."

The fact that EVEN goliath, someone so egotistical, sees sun's morals.. yet others cant and just see it as being cowardly

Our sun has been proven to be the most empathetic among all suns. He HAS done bad, but hasn't continued to do so, he tried his best to make it right. I love him sm I swear

But oh goodness. There is one MOST important jaw dropping lore we got out of sun².

Oh my fucking gosh.

Oh my.

The fact he chose this sun specifically.. BECAUSE HE COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT HIMSELF.

We already knew he was like sun, but moon broke him. Just like how it usually goes in dimensions, here's the thing, though. Even if he did the same back to him, he could NEVER kill him.

Now there's more space to understand why he did it. He couldn't do it, he wanted to give other suns a chance.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

This is too shocking for me I'm sorry

I did not think that SUN² COULDN'T KILL HIS MOON

I guess that was a thing that truly connected all suns before sun's² whole thing

The fact our sun was the first, THE FIRST WHO WAS ABLE TO AND THAT IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT.

Finally. FINALLY IT'S BEEN PROVEN HE'S SPECIAL IN SOME SORT OF WAY

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG

The "I hate him, but couldn't kill him" thing reminds me kinda of my mother and I, just with different context 😭 like- I hate her but can't hate her completely. I have mommy issues QwQ

I literally sometimes get so mad at how she treats me that I hope she dies.

Although- lets not get into that

The point I was trying to make is, even when you swear you hate someone close to you... ESPECIALLY YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, you can never completely hate them.

That is only what I've been able to gather from other things like that

ALSO ALSO ALSO aLsOoOoooO

Why did sun² sound so unsure.. at that one part.

"I suppose nexus could sure try, if he was still around. Mumbles if he was still around..."

WHY DID HE SOUND SO UNSURE.

I wouldn't be surprised if he said it like that because he's seen how many times villains come back in this dimension ☠️☠️

LITERALLY I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED

But if nexus comes back, SHIT.

A part of me believes he will. It's after Christmas, and the new tradition is that shit happens after Christmas because the October takeover tradition ended

AAAAAAAAAA

I'll be kinda happy about it, ONLY BECAUSE THE ANGSTTT

YAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAAAAA

Another also and another woa!! >:D

"why does EVERYTHING have to be US"

"you think I have that answer? Heh, even with my intelligence.. I can never answer that one."

EVEN SUN² ACKNOWLEDGES IT

Because the show runners need to feed us, that's the answer <333

Their lives are something else 😭 they have to deal with something new everyday. They can never catch a break

That would be all. BUT HAHSHHDD I LAUGHED SO HARD SEEING SUN² FLY HELPPPPP

He had his "I was a fairy" moment 🎀 NDNDJSJMS

okay now it's all :3

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

oh my poor buck buckley. why are you doing this to yourself. I say while enjoying the suffering immensely 🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

153 or 1k for 🐓 - whatever I hit first!

---

He takes Christopher out for breakfast on Christmas Eve. Just them. He’s going to get to see him tomorrow, at his parents’, for family celebrations. Of course. He thinks he’ll skip on mass. They’re already disappointed in him anyway. 

They go to a diner. Christopher’s eyes are downturned, focused hard on the plastic menus. His energy is a bit different today than usual. Not better.  But his quiet moodiness seems less driven by spite than nerves. Unusual. What does he have to be nervous about? What small shift in standings has Eddie failed to notice?

“Everything okay today, Chris?” Eddie chances asking, after the server pours his coffee and walks away. 

Chris looks at him carefully, like sizing him up. Eddie really doesn’t know what’s going on. 

“I got a gift in the mail last night,” Chris says. 

The longest sentence he’s used all morning.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks. “From who?”

“Buck.”

Eddie goes a bit stiff. Chris doesn’t miss the change in body language. 

“Oh yeah? What did he get you?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t want to talk about Buck, really. But he does want to talk. So he’ll take it. 

“A new controller that connects to my computer,” Chris says. “A better one.”

“Hey, that was really nice of him,” Eddie says. “Did you call and thank him?”

Chris shrugs. “Tried. It went to voicemail.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, stomach twisting.

“Why didn’t you invite him for Christmas?” Chris asks. “We always see him for Christmas.”

Eddie feels like he’s been dumbed in an alternate universe. In what world could Chris expect to be here and have Christmas be the exact same? But then again, should he have invited Buck for Christmas? Buck, who is in Hershey, of all places. No way he wanted to spend the holidays there. He probably just went where Maddie was going because… Because he didn’t receive an invite from Eddie, maybe… Because Eddie isn’t around. 

“Uh, Buck actually went to Pennsylvania for Christmas this year,” Eddie says. It’s not a lie, but it’s avoiding the truth. “To visit his parents.”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “That’s stupid.”

Well… 

Yeah, okay. It sort of is. 

“Yeah, I wish he’d… Yeah. It’d be better if he was here. I should have offered.”

Would Buck have come? 

He can see Buck, tight-faced and red-eyed. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to it by now, Eddie. His heart clenches. 

“Is he okay?” Chris asks. 

Eddie blinks. “Um, I… I don’t really know. I think he’s… I mean, I’m sure he is. Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound like you know,” Chris says. 

It feels like tiny needles prying under his skin. This line of discussion. Like Chris is, unintentionally or otherwise, trying to pick at a raw wound. 

“I guess I don’t know as well as I should,” Eddie admits. “We aren’t talking as much as I thought we… He’s just busy lately.”

Christopher’s expression sours even further. 

“Why?” He presses. 

“Why to which part?” Eddie asks.

“Why doesn’t he want to talk to you or me?” Chris asks. “He didn’t answer my call.”

“He’ll call you back, Chris,” Eddie promises. “He wants to talk to you. He’s with his family.”

 “We’re his… Ugh. Why doesn’t he want to talk to you?” Chris asks. 

“He’s not not talking to me, Chris. I think he’s just taking some space. He was sad when I left.”

“He’s sad you’re here so he’s talking to you less?” Chris frowns.

Eddie sort of nods and shrugs in combination. 

“That doesn’t make sense!” Chris complains. “You need to fix that.”

Is he serious? Is he fucking kidding? Eddie’s patience is very near worn thin. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Christopher, sometimes our decisions hurt other people, even when we don’t mean for them to,” Eddie grits.

Chris inhales sharply. “You’d know.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I do.”

Christopher looks like he’s about to cry, and Eddie still doesn’t understand what this is about. Was it just to make Eddie feel like shit? Another reminder. All he ever does is lose and hurt people. He’s trying to be better and he can’t manage it. Why else keep pressing about Buck? The one person who has ever really been singularly Eddie’s. At least in his own version of events. In truth, that’s probably not what he was at all. Even if it really, really felt like it.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Chris says after a moment, voice returning to its regular, discontent mumble. 

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “Me neither.”

➡️

Eddie sends Buck a voice note later that afternoon. Obviously he’s thinking about him. Him and Chris. There’s nothing else to think about. He’s very tempted to grab a beer and cry about it all. But that seems like a dubious use of alcohol. Something Bobby would frown at, like an angel on his otherwise hellish shoulder. 

So he doesn’t. 

He sits down to watch a movie, trying to find something that doesn’t remind him of anything or anyone. He settles on a stupid cheesy Christmas romance he isn’t invested in at all. Where the actors are mediocre at best and look like they were spit out by AI. Something Chim would hate. But he doesn’t want to think about Chim either right now. So he doesn’t. He just watches and pretends there’s a reason for watching. 

It’s during the commercial break that he sends the voice note. 

He’s not sure why he chooses it over a call or text. Maybe because he knows Buck won’t pick up a call, but he still wants him to hear his voice. He still hopes he’ll send his own voice back. Maybe with a little less pressure. 

“Hey, Buck,” he says. “Uh… I had breakfast with Chris today. He mentioned your gift. Thank you for doing that. Uh, he also said he tried to call and… Well, you’re probably just busy. Hope you’re having a good time. Maybe call him though, when you can? It sounded like he misses you a lot. Thanks.”

[numberonetacostan]

sigh…. i have devastating news…. i have no tacopad hcs for Christmas!!!!!!(im crying this audio is KILLING ME)

and im STARVING for some tacopad for Christmas(not even a fanfiction for it. sighs.) so please if u can brainstorm some give tacopad hcs Christmas related or not?

not asking for tacomic bc it’s overrated rn all i need is tacopad rn SOBS

car image

Hi Nori!!!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for contacting me!!!!! I can see you're having an emergency, so I am typing this as I am at the table with my family!!!!!!!! >:) (Mushy if you're reading this I was working on your Taco in iii au question when I got called downstairs ITS COMING SOON I PROMISE)

TACOPAD HEADCANONS!!!!! And we're gonna put Mepad alive in post-canon for more freedom!!!!! ;]

• Taco always keeps the door to her room locked, because it makes her feel safer. It works out, because Mepad can always just teleport himself in!!! If she's in there having a good cry, Mepad can warp in and take care of her.

• Taco and Mepad once laid down next to each other, and Trophy asked if it was Flat Fuck Friday already. Mepad had to teleport them away so Taco could keep up her non-violent streak.

• here's a holiday one!!! Everyone wanted to get a verrrrry nice present for Mepad after how much he helped them, throughout season 2 and during the finale. Taco and Toilet had to help almost everyone pick out their present, though, since they were the only two who knew what he would like. The others would resolve to get to know him better!!^^

• Taco could also emotionally support Mepad!!!! We don't talk enough about this, we including me. Mepad, in the finale, fully over came his obedience programming in the finale, he is feeling more than he ever has before!!! He is, for the most part, in charge of himself now. Taco has big feelings that she has trouble handling, and she's been fully independent for years, even if it was a negative for her. And she's working on listening to the people around her more!!!! She can help Mepad with figuring out what he wants (the correct answer is that he wants HER) and what he likes!!!!!

• they would end up under the mistletoe and get called out on it by Goo. Little guy loves love he'd want everyone to give everyone kisses because he loves all of his friends and wants them to love each other and be friends. Taco would not know what it means and Mepad would look it up for her. They'd end up having a whole discussion about it and other traditions since it's both of their first times actually celebrating Christmas. Goo would get bored after a few minutes and leave.

• Taco would get really into the dreidel tournament. Mepad loses early since it would probably be pretty hard to spin a dreidel without arms, so he roots for Taco most of the time^^ I think it would be really funny if it came down to Taco and OJ. She can finally beat him and get the (chocolate) money!!!!!

[meep-moops-stuff]

Safe and Sound - Sidney Crosby x Reader

merry Christmas !! 🎁

Y/n was at her apartment, late at night doing some last minute studying. She has an exam in psychopathology, and for some reason it was a hard subject to study.

She tapped her pencil against her textbook, trying to focus on the words as she reads but she was unable to.

Y/n sighed, closing her textbook and leaning back against the pillows, closing her eyes as she rubbed her temples.

It was silent except for the rain hitting against the windows in her bedroom.

She turned her head slightly and looked outside, seeing the raindrops land on the window.

Her phone buzzed beside her and she groaned, interrupting her silence.

She sat up and checked it: a missed message from Sidney.

“Forwarded you information for the stylist! Let me know when you get it”

She sighed and dropped her phone, covering her face with her hands.

This is still so surreal.

A stylist? From THE Sidney Crosby?

She took a deep breath and sat up, swinging her legs around to the side of the bed.

She gripped the edge of her bed, closing her eyes as she felt the palms of her hands begin to sweat.

Oh fuck, not now she thought.

She breathed in through her nose and out her mouth.

Her phone buzzed again.

She turned her head to look at it from her Home Screen.

“Want to FaceTime later? Just got home from a team dinner”

Y/n groaned, standing up slowly.

Her phone started to ring this time, Sidney was already calling.

“Jesus Christ” y/n mumbled under her breath, rubbing a hand over her face.

She sat back down on the bed and answered.

“Hi baby girl” Sidney said softly. He was in his kitchen, making a post practice meal for tomorrow’s practice.

His phone was propped up against his salt and pepper shakers, she picked up on.

Y/n shrugged and sighed.

Sidney stopped what he was doing and leaned into the camera frame.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asked.

Y/n looked up, but broke out in giggles as she saw how close Sidney was to the camera.

“Could you be any closer?” Y/n said through giggles.

Sidney chuckled and backed away a little, leaning on the counter by his forearms.

“Tell me what’s wrong, baby. Talk to me”

Y/n hated when he did that, because it always made her break down the walls she spent so long to build up.

“I just…have an exam tomorrow in a class that’s difficult. And then the night of assists is coming up and it’s just…” she trailed off and looked down at her lap, cracking her knuckles.

“It’s a lot on your mind, isn’t it sweetheart?”

Y/n nodded, feeling her eyes water.

She quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeves and sniffled. She could see Sidney tilt his head from the corner of her eye, something he does when he feels bad.

“Baby girl, look at me.” He whispered.

Y/n looked at the screen, her vision becoming blurry as the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“It’s ok to be overwhelmed. I know it’s a lot for you and I’m trying my best to not throw all the things you deserve at you at once.”

She smiled and wiped her cheeks.

“Look at me darling”

Her vision was clearer as she looked, Sidney smiling and this time on his couch.

“Don’t worry about the stylist. We’ll take care of that when it gets closer so you can focus on your exam.”

Y/n nodded and hiccuped, thankful Sidney was talking gently to her.

He shifted on the couch, putting a pillow on his lap.

“And your exam? You’ll do great on it. That’s a class you have an A in, right?”

She nodded and smiled, loving how he remembered.

“So if you WERE to somehow not do so well, it wouldn’t tank your grade too much.” He said.

Y/n hadn’t thought about that before. She was too focused on wanting to be perfect, NEEDING to be perfect.

“And I know you want to be perfect in everything you do for school. Because you think if you’re not, it’ll prove that monster right. But it’s not true, baby. No matter what happens on this exam, you’ll still be an amazing student.”

Y/n had began to cry again, this time from being emotional and relieved, relieved that someone understood her and didn’t get upset with her.

“But I’m so used to-“

“I know what you’re used to baby. And it breaks my heart that you’re used to always having to be perfect for your father. But I’m not him. I love you no matter what sweetheart.”

Y/n hiccuped again and smiled. She felt a little bit better, the dread no longer being present in her chest.

“Thank you” she mumbled.

Sidney smiled and leaned back against the couch.

“Now, go take a shower and watch something on Netflix to relax, ok? Text me when you’re out of the shower and in bed.”

Y/n nodded.

“If you need to, you can also take your anxiety medicine. I know you don’t like relying on it, but it can help sometimes”

She shrugged and got off her bed, grabbing her pjs.

“Ok I’ll take some. Have a good night Sid” she mumbled, walking into her bathroom.

Sid hung up, and y/n set her things down on her sink.

She turned the shower on and tuned up a playlist.

She was ok.

[rising-above-stars]

I'm going to fucking scream

[hijinxinprogress]

12 year old tim realizing robin’s not coming back to gotham and deciding that it’s Batman’s fault so he has to ruin the little bit of sanity and peace of mind Bruce has managed (read: struggled) to keep in his grasp: