#i wrote this instead of working

[shortstack-21]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: Halloween, Whumptober, Evan "Buck" Buckley Whump, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley Has Bad Luck, I'm Bad At Tagging, Comedy, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley Loves Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley Has ADHD, One Shot Summary:

Inspired by @captnsunshine's 911 fanart where Buck gets his head stuck in a pumpkin. Buck let's his intrusive thoughts win. Happy early Halloween! 🎃

 "Eddie," Buck began, trying to sound casual, but the nerves crept into his voice. "I need... uh, I need a little help."

There was a pause on the other end. "With what?"

Buck hesitated, cringing a little. “It’s not that big of a deal,” Buck tried to explain, his voice muffled by the pumpkin. “I just… got my head stuck, but I’m fine. Totally fine.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Eddie’s incredulous voice came through. “Wait—you got your head stuck in what?”

“A pumpkin,” Buck mumbled, hoping Eddie didn’t catch that.

“A what?” Eddie sounded like he was holding back a laugh.

“Pumpkin, okay? I got my head stuck in a pumpkin! But I’m fine. It’s fine. Just—could you come over?”

[feral4fiktion]

Being Friendly

Micah Bell x Fem!Reader

No TW

self-indulgent feelings

Wrote this instead of working because as much as I hate this man, he's been in my head recently and he's been the only one I've had the inspiration to write so now I guess I'm a Micah freaking Bell fanfic writer.

The camp was quiet, even more so than usual. It had you on edge, but it was also a chance for you to calm down after all the insanity that had been going on since the ferry job.

Most of the fella’s were gone on jobs, or to the local bar, but there was one you noticed was only wandering around the outskirts of the camp. Not quite keeping watch, but not letting anything escape his notice either. Sometimes you saw flashes of his icy blue eyes peeking from below his white wide-brim hat, but he would move just enough to hide his face the second he saw you watching him back.

You’d been playing this game for weeks, ever since you joined the gang before the Blackwater incident. Micah had grown on you, despite the warnings from everyone else that he was a loose gun. His sarcasm matched your own, and you couldn’t deny that the way he drew out random parts of his words was funnier than it should have been.

But since he’d been rescued from the Strawberry prison you felt like he’d been avoiding you. You would feel his eyes on you constantly as you moved around camp. A quick glance up and you’d see a flash of icy blue before it was gone and he would move to a different spot. At night, when he would usually join a small group by the fire, he’d turn on his heel the moment he saw you in the group.

It was getting ridiculous…and if you were honest a little hurtful. Sure he was harsh with everyone else (though Mary-Beth mentioned he’d gotten a lot more tolerable since you joined), but he didn’t avoid them like he was doing with you. And you missed your friend…not that you could really admit to anyone else that he was, in fact, a friend to you.

Enough was enough, though. You’d been down for the last two days because of this, and with an almost empty camp tonight, it was time to do something about it.

Just after the point of twilight you were ready to make your move. Some people had come back so Micah had moved to the edges of camp. He had moved close to the cliff, just past the horses. For once he was looking out at the skyline instead of people watching, giving you a rare chance of getting close before he could wander off.

You smirked and stepped lightly beside him, ready to start the match.

He must know you were up to something, based on the scowl that sharpened the lines of his face, but you didn’t let that damper your determination.

“What’chu want, friend?” He’d taken to calling you that when you drunkenly told him one night that you were friends.

“Checkin’ on you. That’s what friends do, after all.” If you hesitated for just a moment before your nerves came back you’d never admit it.

His scowl softened just a bit at your light tone, which made your own grin bigger. This was a good start. At least he wasn’t stomping off.

“I s’pose they do.” He pulled out a cigarette pack and matches. You stand in silence while he lights it and puffs a couple times.

“So…what’s got you so riled lately?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye. “I heard you really laid into Bill earlier today when he bumped into you. Not like you to go off for something so little.”

Micah scoffs before flicking some ash from his smoke. He toes the ash into the dirt, not looking up and completely blocking your view of his face.

“Just…a lot on my mind lately…with the hangin’ in Strawberry an’ all.” You nod. You’d been worried to death when you’d heard the news, but thankfully you’d convinced Arthur to get Micah immediately instead of holding off like he’d wanted to do.

“Mmm, that would put a lot on a mind…but I know something that might distract you.” You can’t hide the devilish grin from spreading over your face that you were able to steer this conversation exactly how you’d wanted to.

Micah finally turns his head toward you. His lips turn up at the obvious mischievousness on your face. If only he knew. He leans in slightly when you do, making a point of whispering as though this were a huge secret.

“Oh, ya got some gossip, huh? Spill it, then,”

You look around, like anyone would possibly approach you, but really you were building the last of your bravery for what you were about to reveal.

“Someone in camp…one of the girls…is sweet on you!” You cover your mouth to hide your smile, and maybe the growing blush on your cheeks.

Micah’s eyes go wide as he straightened back in shock. Those blue eyes are holding yours as though they can see every thought running through you. For a moment you wonder if he’s hoping it’s someone else, like Mary-Beth, but then he moved back in, closer this time. He must have seen something in your gaze that gave him his next answer, but you were happy that he still asked.

“Really? And who would that be?” You were toe-to-toe now. He was looking down directly into your eyes, but you felt like he had already wrapped you in his warm, leathery embrace with the way your heart was pounding, making your whole body shake with nerves.

Somehow, you were able to keep yourself from falling apart. By some miracle your brain made your body move even as you yourself were long gone. You leaned up just enough that your lips pressed against Micah’s chapped ones. His mustache tickled your nose and skin, even though he didn’t move. Your eyes were closed, so you couldn’t see his expression, but you felt it when he immediately answered your kiss. His thin lips were moving against yours slowly, like he was mapping out every part and testing how firm you were.

After a few heavenly moments of those soft movements he pulled back, panting slightly. At some point he’d pulled your body flush to his. You were now pressed firmly against his solid form, your own hands wrapped under his jacket and around his back. His were on your waist and back, until he moved one to cup your face, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

“You?” You nod, knowing that your smile is so big it’s probably more terrifying than anything, but not able to care with how happy you are that you’re in his arms and not being pushed away.

Micah released a huff of air as a smile almost matching yours takes over his face. He lowers till his forehead is pressed against yours. You hadn’t thought it was possible, but his eyes were even more beautiful up close and wide. It was fascinating that they were glassing over with some emotion that Micah seemed to have trouble suppressing.

“The whole time…in that jail cell…you were the only thing I could think about.” He confessed in a strangled whisper. “I didn’t care they would hang me, I’ve always known that’s probably how I’ll go…I just didn’t…I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you, especially without you knowing…,” His breathing was picking up and unshed tears were gathering, threatening to break past.

You heart hurt when he mentioned the jail. You’d been worried too, especially when Arthur mentioned the hanging was scheduled for the day after the rescue. You didn’t want to think about how close you’d been to losing him forever.

“I don’t have the words, though, even now…and I s’pose…I was scared you might not…and I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me, everyone does,” He was still rambling, clutching you to him so tightly like he thought you still might leave. You could feel his body trembling against yours…or maybe that was still you just shaking from how happy you were.

“Micah, it’s ok. I’m here, I want you.” One of your hands came up to lightly stroke his whiskers, loving how soft they were. You wanted to watch your own fingers disappear into them, but Micah needed to see your sincerity, and you were happy to keep looking at your favorite color blue.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into camp. Yer the only one I ever wanted so bad, and I ain’t ever letting you go, now.” His tone was possessive, but you could tell he was also putting some warning into it, probably trying to get back to his tough-guy manner.

You didn’t mind though. Not when his warmth and scent are washing over you, and he still has a vice grip on you, keeping you safe in his arms. You grip him back just as hard before tucking your face into his neck, breathing him in.

“Good.”

[whalesandstars]

Wanderer: I'm tired of doing these useless homework and thesis. I'm going to burn the world instead

Nahida: Sit back down

Wanderer: No--

Nahida: SIT DOWN.

Wanderer: ...fine

[pendragonsclotpole]

Merlin Season 5 AU! See end for inspo!

They arrive in Camelot to the news of Mordred’s death. For the first three days of their return, Merlin fixates on the demise of Arthur’s bane more than he does on the significance of Mordred’s death. Mordred’s absence lifts the heavy burden of destiny off of Merlin’s shoulders for the first time in years. He can rest easy, breathe better, live contentedly in the realization that while Morgana remains, Arthur is now free from the curse of his bane.

It takes him weeks to wonder what this might mean for the decision made by Arthur. He is rightfully taken by surprise when one morning, Arthur awakes long before him and presents him with an even longer scroll over breakfast. It is an act to repeal the ban on magic. It legalizes certain forms of magic automatically, presents a drafted proposal for a hierarchical system to police wayward sorcerers, and provides a place on the Council for a Court Sorcerer. The details are so meticulously outlined that Merlin knows deep in his heart Gaius helped Arthur write them. Merlin’s hardly realized he’s crying when Arthur’s arms wrap around and he’s blowing snot into the King’s doublet. He mouths his apologies even as Arthur rubs a comforting hand on his back and whispers back reassuring I knows, and it’s alrights.

In the end, they fulfill the prophecy. Camelot’s golden age lasts for decades. Arthur’s territories grow, and his people thrive, and Merlin stands by his side throughout it all. Magic flourishes. Camelot thrives. Arthur lives and ages. Merlin lives and ages. Arthur dies.

It takes decades. Their bodies grow weak their knees get knobby, (Merlin grows a beard of respectable length much to Arthur’s dismay and annoyance) but eventually Merlin finds Arthur’s body the morning after Arthur’s 96th birthday. It is early enough that none of the servants have arrived to tend to their fire. Merlin, with hands now nearly as wrinkled and gnarled as Arthur’s face, uncorks the vial he’s carried around his waist since the day of Arthur’s first collapse, and swallows whole the concoction within it. The poison takes a few minutes to activate, but by the time he hears footsteps down the hall, Merlin can feel the poison painlessly traveling up his veins and clouding his vision. He smiles, content and sure in the thought that when he awoke next it would be to Arthur’s smiling visage.

He wakes up hours later to Arthur’s cold, sightless blue eyes in the crypts of Camelot. They are alone, about to be placed in stone. For a moment, Merlin thinks he’s merely in the in-between or perhaps brought back as a ghost. He closes his eyes and wills his soul to venture elsewhere. He wills it so much he says nothing as he’s lifted into the walls and entombed beside Arthur. There is something insidiously macabre in seeing your soulmate rot beside you as you desperately attempt to force death to take you. Throughout the process, Merlin absentmindedly thinks if Arthur’s eyes were not cursed to be sightless forevermore the former King would be staring at him with disappointment. I’m sorry, Merlin tells Arthur repeatedly. The apologies peter out when Merlin attempts to die by gouging out his own eyes. He hypothesizes for a few days that the more pain he can elicit, the closer he gets to Arthur. He stops increasing the pain after escalating his to disembowelment and then ceases his attempts to bring about his own death completely after blowing up his body only succeeds in speeding up the decomposition of Arthur’s body. The explosion is both a blessing and a curse. The instant incineration is painless and removes the horrible byproducts and odors of a rotting corpse, but it also leads to Merlin’s eventual resignation. Try as he might, he cannot join Arthur—not even in the presence of their shared crypt.

When he finally pulls himself away from the skeletal remains of Arthur’s frozen and once gnarled hands and musters the force to blast out from the crypt, two months have passed. The body he leaves behind sealed in the crypts is no longer Arthur Pendragon. Arthur Pendragon has left this world. Merlin should have left it with him and now he must find out why he remains, perniciously. There is only one person he can turn that will have this knowledge. Merlin runs to the nearest field and screams out for Kilgharrah. The dragon’s arrival shakes the entire earth around them, but even Merlin can see the weakness in the creature’s movements as he lands.

“So even you are not immune to old age, old friend.” Merlin says. Kilgharrah’s golden eyes look muted in the daylight, and pieces of his scales flake off into the ground.

“You will find only one of us is immune to death by old age, Emrys. And it is not I.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin’s anger gets the best of him. He is confused and hurt and humiliated and alone and deprived of his last wish. He has no room for ambiguities or cruelties. “Have I not fulfilled my destiny? Have I not earned my place of rest?”

“You cannot rest. You are Magic itself. For as long as there is magic in this realm, you will exist in this realm.”

Merlin lets the words rest on the wind for a few seconds before letting them stew and fuel his anger.

“So that’s it then? Years of toiling under the weight of prophecy, decades of laboring to maintain the Golden Age I sacrificed my very being for, and this is how it ends?” Merlin takes a shuddering breath. “You said we were meant to be two sides of the same coin, that are destinies are intertwined. Why is he gone and why am I still here?”

“Arthur is the Once and Future King, Merlin. When the need of Albion is at its greatest, he will return. You are the very essence of Magic. For as long as this realm needs magic, you must remain as magic’s stalwart defender and guardian.” Perhaps realizing the cruelty of his words, Kilgharrah issues one last prophecy. “Do not despair, Merlin. In truth, you achieved the best of all possible outcomes. In another life, Mordred might have lived for longer and Arthur’s death fulfilled decades earlier in place of your true destiny. You received a temporary peace instead. When Arthur returns, he will bring about the end of magic and your death with it.” Then, with a weariness Merlin recognized only in himself, Kilgharrah pulled back his wings and departed.

Merlin never sees him again. It is for the better. It takes Merlin three centuries to forgive the dragon for never pointing out what Merlin himself should have seen. It takes another five before he stops trying to die.

They had achieved everything. Two sides of the same coin, and yet when the story ended, it amounted to nothing.

Arthur died because Arthur was mortal.

Merlin is Magic. Merlin is immortal. Merlin cannot die.

@sneakyboymerlin I blame you for this. Inspired by this amazing post:

[nelliebachesneg]

Next chapter of "The Change You Want To See" is up!

[kidsomeday]

Written for day one of @vashwoodweek. Will I be able to keep this up? I'll sure try! If nothing else I had fun.

[nicnacsnonsense]

I’m off the Adderall and on a new medication which takes some time to build up in your system (plus I’m at the lowest dose) which in effect for my symptoms basically means I’m more or less unmedicated right now. And apparently I was living like this for nearly thirty years. The level of bravery and strength in me to be a moderately successful person while under these conditions… frankly, I deserve a parade.

[rhapsody-in-crimson]

Leaving Home

doing laundry all alone, just

the soft whirr as you measure the detergent and

when you spill no one helps you clean it

up—

quiet nights and bed always half

unmade

because you can never tuck the sheets

quite like your mother, or

fluff the pillows

up—

on your father's birthday

you're studying for a test and

when you finally call him you're

so tired,

you can barely look

up—

they told you college would be the

next step up

so why do i always feel like i'm falling down?

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[runecatwrites]

Let’s talk about Warriors and Wild

This was another “weird” pairing that came out of the latest update.

You’d think that the two with no dungeon experience should each be paired with someone more experienced, right? Well, Warriors isn’t really thinking about that. He has a different motive for choosing Wild to team up with, and no, it’s not because he’s “mad” at him. The reason actually reveals a lot about both of their characters, and displays a great deal of character growth on Warriors' part specifically.

Deep dive under the cut!

Okay first off, let’s get something out of the way. Just because Warriors and Wild have no traditional dungeon experience, that doesn’t make them ill-equipped. Warriors has tons of combat experience and is demonstrably very intelligent. And Wild? Sure he didn’t have traditional dungeons in BotW, but you know what he did have? Puzzles. A TON of puzzles. That guy can do puzzles in his sleep. I highly doubt that he’s gonna have trouble with dungeon puzzles once he figures out how to approach them (which won’t take long).

All right, now that we have that cleared up, moving on!

From the very beginning, Wars holds great respect for Wild:

Because at the start of the adventure, Warriors doesn't realize just how different he is from the others. He gets put with a bunch of guys who share his name and his spirit, so of course he thinks his experience isn’t unique. They’re all just like him, right?

Okay, uh, maybe not? But they still can’t be that different, Warriors thinks. Sky is also a knight, and he acts exactly the way Warriors expects a knight to act.

He catches onto plans immediately:

And follows through flawlessly:

It’s not about authority and Sky’s ability to follow orders. It’s about the fact that Sky is on the same page. He went to military school. He has extensive training. He knows what to do and when, with barely any prompting, because he’s been taught to think the same way Warriors thinks. Warriors and Sky work together perfectly because of this:

But with Wild? Warriors is expecting the exact same thing with Wild, a fellow knight, but what he gets from the Champion is far from what he gets with Sky. This is very unexpected for Warriors. He gives what he thinks is a clear directive:

“Clear out the rest” to Warriors and Sky means “get rid of all the little guys so we can focus on the big guy.” Solid strategy. But Wild does not interpret this the same way, because he does not remember his military training and therefore any of the strategy he was taught. “Clear out the rest” just means get rid of everyone to him. And he decides to eliminate the biggest threat first. It’s important to note here that he’s not “defying orders” because his emotions are getting the better of him, or even because he thinks he shouldn't have been given orders. The way he sees it, he is following orders. Warriors said “clear out the rest.” And that’s what Wild’s helping to do. But then afterwards? Warriors is angry!

The plan? What plan? There was no plan! The goal was just to get rid of everyone! Why does it matter if Wild took out the big guy before the little guys?

It’s at this point that Wild realizes he’s done something wrong, but he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. (Any other neurodivergent folks here? If so, yeah, you know how this feels. I know I do.)

It’s clear through subsequent interactions that Wild genuinely does not understand what the problem is:

He thought he made the right move, but others don’t seem to think so. He’s already emotional, and this is just adding more fuel to the fire. He snaps, starts a fight with Four, and runs off still feeling confused.

Meanwhile, Warriors is also confused. Why didn’t Wild act the way Warriors thought he would? He’s a knight, right? Why did he do what he did, and how did he not understand that his choice of strategy was incorrect after?

And it’s not just Wild that Warriors failed to read correctly; the others are clashing with him too. Case in point, Twilight’s refusal to hang back after being injured:

In the aftermath of the battle, it’s at this point that Warriors makes a realization: he’s the one who made a mistake. He had preconceived expectations of people, and that ended up majorly backfiring on him.

Warriors knows that he can't be a good teammate - and a good leader - if he doesn't understand where his companions are coming from. Again, it's not about authority, it's about being on the same page. Ever since, he has been trying to seek better understanding. Maybe Wild doesn't feel comfortable taking orders from Warriors, and only listens to those he knows well?

But Twilight said, "No he doesn't." Huh. Okay. Well, maybe Warriors can try to get inside Wild's head? Let's try some bantering! These guys love to banter!

Oops. Fumble. That didn't go well. But hey, at least Wild seems to have figured out what he did wrong!

That's a step in the right direction! Okay, they're getting somewhere, Warriors thinks.

But Wild is really down on himself. He now realizes that he misinterpreted a directive that he should have understood. And thinks that Warriors thinks he's stupid, and hates him. (Again, where my neurodivergent peeps at? Yeah. That feeling.)

Meanwhile, things are becoming clearer to Warriors. Not only does he realize that he shouldn't have viewed his teammates through his own preconceived notions, but for the first time, he also realizes just how different his experience was from everyone else's:

He realizes he's got a LOT of learning to do. His discordance with Wild is proof of that. But Wild has never been in a dungeon either. Maybe this is their chance to connect? Warriors tries once again to get inside Wild's head. Maybe he can try to understand why Wild isn't approaching this dungeon the way Warriors would:

Aaaaand Wild froze up. Dang it. Warriors isn't getting anything. He really needs to figure out what's going wrong here so they can work together. It's for both of their benefit, and the group's benefit as a whole. They need to get on the same page so that they can not only fight together, but be good friends to each other. And when the opportunity arises to team up one-on-one, Warriors jumps at it! This is the perfect opportunity, he thinks!

But right now? Wild doesn't realize that. He thinks that Warriors is mad at him. Warriors is NOT mad at him. Warriors is trying to learn, to better himself, and to forge a connection.

And I believe that even though it's been a bumpy road, we're going to see some amazing growth between Warriors and Wild in the future.

[thevoidstaredback]

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

[cubbihue]

Peri was very upset about a lot of things that happened. Within a span of a week, he felt like his entire life has changed for the worst!! He had a dumb bulb on his wand, Timmy was still moving away, and he had to go to a school far from everyone he knew!!!

Of course, the cause and trigger of those emotions was Timmy. But Peri can’t blame his older brother for any of that. So the next logical conclusion for a small child to reach was to blame his parents instead!!! And boy did he blame a lot on his parents.

Many of Peri’s actions in his childhood stems from misplaced grief and anger. By the time he was old enough to know better, Peri got a mixture of stubbornness and a bruised ego to admit he was wrong for how he reacted.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Instability: [Start] > [Previous] > [END]

[mxltifxnd0m]

pull it to the side ⥁ s. winchester

summary: sam wants to try something out.

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem reader, [can be read as gn afab! reader]

word count: 1.3K

warnings: MINORS DNI, hint of dom/sub dynamics, oral fem! receiving, biting, slight choking, smug sam, porn w/out plot, no use of y/n, kinda edited

a/n: uhh hi guys this came out of nowhere but it was sparked because of guess by charlie xcx and billie so yeah here it is loll [also the title is a lyric from the song]

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You and Sam all but stumbled into the room, lips attached to one other as you guys hastily pawed at each other, eager to get rid of the troublesome clothes on your bodies. Through the haze of lust, you could tell that you were being pushed back, and you had landed on the edge of the bed. Your lips had finally separated from Sam’s for the first time since you entered the room. 

Your naked chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath underneath Sam’s hungry gaze. You were already so fucked out, and Sam hadn’t done anything but overwhelm you with his kisses and insistent hands. You were stripped naked, barring your underwear, which had yet to be taken off and practically soaked through with your arousal, making the soft white color of the panties almost translucent. 

Sam’s large form loomed over you, making you lean back until your bare back hit the sheets of the bed. Sam’s lips were pulled into a salacious smirk as he hovered over you, his hips slotting in between your open legs. You let out a soft moan as you felt the rough denim of his jeans rut against your clothed core. 

You saw Sam’s lips twitch up further before planting soft, teasing kisses across your jaw and cheek before capturing your lips between his. His tongue breached your mouth instantly, swiping his tongue against yours and making your brain go haywire as his warm hands roamed over your thighs and hips until one of them made it to one of your breasts and started to knead it. A keening whine left your mouth as he pinched the hardened nub in between his fingers. 

A low chuckle rumbled in Sam’s chest. “God, I love your noises.” He mumbled against your lips before biting the bottom one gently. 

His lips left yours, and he skimmed his lips down your jaw with a feather-light touch as he kissed and nipped at your neck. Sam filled your senses as you felt his mouth trail lower and lower, kissing and biting anywhere he could. You knew you would be covered in small bruises and bite marks by the time Sam was done with you, but you couldn’t give a single shit about it at the moment as you felt his breath ghost against your lower belly as he sunk in between your open legs. 

“Fuck.” Sam breathed out when he saw the state of your underwear. “You’re soaking, aren’t you sweetheart?” You could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he left sloppy kisses on your inner thighs. 

One of your hands made its way into his hair, brushing the hair away from his forehead while the other gripped the sheets next to you tightly. When you met his eyes, the hazel in them was non-existent as they were overtaken by the lust that had taken over any rational he had. 

“S’all for you.” You managed to rasp out. 

“All for me?” The smirk that was on his face could have rivaled the devil’s as he sucked a mark into your plush inner thigh. Sam all but shoved his face into your crotch; you felt him take a deep inhale of your clothed cunt and let out a groan. “You smell so good.”

A soft whimper left your lips as his lips kissed your covered mound through your underwear. Sam started to lap at your cunt through the soaked material, making it even wetter. 

“Fuck.” He said with a grunt. “You’re so wet. I can taste you through your underwear.” Sam went from licking to kissing at your clit. 

You could feel how your underwear was stuck to your cunt like a second skin. Low moans and whines left your parted lips as Sam mouthed at your cunt, licking and kissing at it with your soaked panties acting as the only barrier between your dripping core and his mouth. 

One of Sam’s hands left your thigh to pull the material of your underwear taut against you, making a small yelp escape your mouth at the new sensation. 

Sam pulled away for a moment. “Bet if I could make you cum just like this.” He said to himself, tugging the underwear tighter against you.  

You tugged at the strands on top of his head, making Sam look up at your shaking head. “Take them off.” You pouted at him. 

You moved the hand that wasn’t in Sam’s hair off of the bed and to the waistband of your underwear. Sam acted quickly and used his free hand to grab your wrist and pin it back down on the bed. 

Sam moved from his spot between your legs to hover over you, your hand falling from his hair as he shook his head and looked at you with a stern glare.

He clicked his tongue at you. “You’re not in charge tonight.” 

You couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face. Before you could even blink, both of your wrists were pinned above your head in one of Sam’s hands on the headboard while the other wrapped around the base of your neck loosely. 

“You wanna act like a brat tonight? Because I’ll treat you like one.” Sam’s nostrils flared as he leaned closer to you, his nose brushing against yours, and you held his fiery gaze. 

You shook your head at him. “Wanna be your good girl.” 

“Then you’ll take what I give you.” The hand that was at the base of your neck moved up to wrap around your neck, but he didn’t put any pressure on it. A small whimper left your lips at the feeling of Sam’s big hand around your throat. 

Sam sent you a dark smirk before kissing you fast and hard. “Keep them there.” He squeezed your wrists before slinking down your body until he was face-to-face with your covered cunt again. He pulled your underwear hard against you and wasted no time trying to get you to cum. 

You wished you could feel his talented tongue against your bare cunt, but pleasure still surged through you as you felt him press his tongue hard against you and focused on your clothed clit. Sam managed to suck at it through the fabric, making you buck against his mouth. You could feel the familiar heat brew in your lower belly as Sam continued his ministrations. You were writhing on the bed, trying to keep your hands against the headboard as you tried to grind against Sam’s face. 

Sam threw an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he ate you out like a man starved. Loud moans erupted from the back of your throat as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. 

Sam could tell you were getting close. “You gonna cum, pretty girl?” 

“Yes!” You gasped.” Pl-please let me cum.” You all but whined out, tears welling up in your eyes. You were so worked up, and all you wanted was for Sam to let you cum and finally fuck you. 

Sam chuckled against you, the vibrations making the warmth in your core even hotter. “Gonna make you cum.” He doubled down, wanting to make you cum as soon as possible. 

You were covered in a sheen of sweat as you felt the band in your core become tighter and tighter. Sam took your clit and sucked on it hard, biting it lightly, and the band snapped. Your mouth was open in a silent moan as pleasure racked through your body. Sam mouthed at your soaked-through underwear as you came down, shiny with his spit and your cum. 

Sam planted soft kisses up your body and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips when you finally calmed down. You let out a low moan as you tasted yourself against his slick-covered lips. You didn’t realize that your eyes had closed until they fluttered open to see Sam’s satisfied smile. 

“Told you I could make cum with them on.” 

[wheneverfeasible]

Omegaverse AU where Steve presents as an alpha just like his father always wanted, just like everyone expects, just like he was supposed to. He exclusively dates betas, scoffing and saying omegas weren’t good enough for him. He said they were too needy, too annoying, too pathetic. He was an alpha.

He hates it.

The truth is that Steve always wanted to be an omega, always wanted to soft and taken care of, wanted to be pupped up, wanted to avoid the stupid knotheads that he was forced to surround himself with, forced to pretend to be. He never dated an omega because he wants to be one and wants desperately for another alpha to take him as their own.

Enter Eddie, an alpha unlike any other. He scorns alphas like Steve and Tommy and Billy and all the other knotheads who act like they’re so much better than anyone else just because of their secondary gender. He rants on top of cafeteria tables about it, has ever since he presented and actually had the other alphas try to talk to him at first as if he was one of them.

No fucking thank you.

Steve is…not enamored, but curious about the super senior. Nancy broke up with him, he and Tommy are sort of on the outs though still barely friends, and Billy has a one-sided rivalry for the crown Steve currently wore, not that Steve truly cared about it.

Blah blah blah, Steve propositions Eddie after watching him for a while, realizing that Eddie might just be the sort of alpha who would fuck Steve and let him pretend to be an omega for a little while, meanwhile Eddie thinks King Steve wants to start shit with him like a knotheaded alpha and is wary and lightly mocking at first, until he realizes what Steve wants.

Steve and Eddie become fuckbuddies, nothing more, where Steve gets to role play as an omega and have Eddie dominate him, who seems to know that Steve wants to pretend to be cared for rather than playing the slut role he’s been doing as an alpha, and Steve actually breaks down in tears the first time Eddie calls him “good boy” and “good omega” though they both pretend he didn’t.

And you see, bitching isn’t really well known yet. It’s not really a thing that’s spoken about amongst polite society. So neither of them clock it when, as their feelings for each other grow, Steve becomes a little more emotional, a little more irrational in regards to Eddie’s attention, and they use scent blockers and neutralizers all the time to keep their affairs secret, so they don’t notice Steve’s scent changing, or the fact that he’s starting to become more than just artificially wet, or his knot doesn’t really pop like it used to because they both steadfastly had ignored it for so long to play the role right.

And it’s just not known. It’s not something that’s really spoken about, so they’d never think about it.

So no, they don’t notice anything until it’s too late, until it happens, and Steve is suddenly thrown into a spontaneous heat after an intense basketball game or something, the final stages of his transition. There was too much sweating, too much testosterone, that the blockers and neutralizers don’t really cut it anymore.

Billy makes the winning shot as the heat hits, making Steve’s legs collapse under him as slick coats his drawers and shorts, dripping down his thighs. All alpha heads suddenly towards him as his new true scent bursts out, surprise on all their faces, even hunger on some.

Billy and Tommy both take a step towards him but are forced to stop by a growl that reverberates through Steve as if it were his own as the familiar scent hits him of blockers and tobacco and weed and leather and that stupid cheap shampoo/conditioner/body wash 3-in-1 that Eddie uses as strong arms wrap around him and dark hair cascades around him.

Because he’s there. His alpha. He’s always there, hiding in the corner or under bleachers or somewhere where Steve can’t see him and he’s always there because this stupid thing between them has become so much more than either of them ever expected and he’s so protective of his omega because Steve is his omega even when he was an alpha because he was always an omega even when he wasn’t biologically.

It isn’t ideal. It far from fucking ideal, but Eddie whisks Steve away in his arms, whispering those words of praise that used to only belong in their role play, but Steve is burning up and he can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait can’twaitcan’twaitcan’tfuckingwait—

And Eddie pulls him into classroom, locks and bars the door with desks and chairs and whatever else, and then he’s there he’s there he’stherehe’stherehe’sthere.

Eddie wants to bite, wants to mark, wants to claim, but he knows now isn’t the time so all he does is help Steve through it while he’s all but delirious from the sudden heat rewriting him completely.

Afterwards, they will talk. They will confess. They will admit. They will acknowledge that they were his alpha, his omega, and had been for longer than either of them realized. They will slink to Eddie’s car, go to Eddie’s trailer, will wash off all scents artificial and other until the them, finally just them and they will find the truth in each other. They will find a love that thrived against all odds. A love that beat fate itself.

Eddie does eventually bite him, and Steve completes it with his own, and eventually Steve gets his and his alpha’s pups like he always wanted and he can bask in the knowledge that he was exactly where he was always meant to be, with an alpha that loves and cherishes him exactly as he is, with a pack both of his own pups and the pups he all but adopted as their babysitter and real friends he gathered along the way he never thought he would be lucky enough to have.

It’s not easy at first. Of course it’s not. Something practically unheard of happened in a small conservative town like Hawkins. There were bigots and hateful people galore, and at times it even tested Steve and Eddie, but they always survived and always came out on the other side hand-in-hand and triumphant in their growing love.

They know that the best things in life are worth fighting for. And they vowed to never stop fighting. For themselves, for each other, and for everyone and everything they hold dear.

And they have fantastic sex along the way.

[alons-ycreeper]

I had fun with the last idea so have this as well:

Post-mountain, Jaskier goes back to Oxenfurt where he notices something strange. All the mail at his apartment is under the name "Julian of Rivia". When he tells the postal there must be a misunderstanding because no one under that name lives there it's always just been him and he hasn't been kicked out or moved. They ask if he's Jaskier to which he says yes and they reply that no it is indeed the right address.

Confused the bard goes to the bureau asking to see his identification papers because he wants to clear up a misunderstanding of identity. Well the bookkeeper brings out the forms and sure enough Jaskier's name changed because he married...he married Geralt. He wonders how this could've happened then thinks back to one night between contracts the two men got roaring drunk, Geralt was being his usual 'woe is me' self saying that witchers could never have certain things like retirement or marriage, Jaskier as usual wanted to prove him wrong so he dragged the two to the nearest town and married him just to prove witchers can be have whatever they pleased. Guess that didn't age well.

But that's not all, no. The town they went to was big enough and populated enough to have an actual courthouse so the marriage license is an official document and Jaskier hasn't got it annulled so he's still married.

Post-reunion and at Kaer Morhen, Jaskier has been talking to Yenn about it. Jaskier's family has found out about the eloping and has demanded to meet the princess. The bard wouldn't put it pass them to send Ferrant their way making false claims of insanity or child endangerment to take legal custody of Ciri only to either get head of the game and marry her off or give the girl over to Nilffgaard. So in order to keep both Ciri and Geralt far away from them he's already got his half of the divorce papers signed they just need Geralt's signature or mark and it'll be done. They'll be safe.

But when Jaskier hands Geralt the paperwork and quill the bastard says no then chucks it into the fire before walking away. Yenn has to physically hold Jaskier back from attacking Geralt.

[yuwuta]

love f2l where he’s already hopelessly in love with you and pining in a way that’s so obvious to everyone else but you, but also love the moment in f2l where it clicks that “oh shit… i think my friend just turned me on.” even better when one person doesn’t realize they’ve turned the other one on and they’ve just gotta live with the memory replaying in their head for a few days. friends keep saying they’re distracted and they just nod their head like yeah uh sorry… was uh… sorry what were we talking about? bc these days if it’s not about that moment, zero processing has gone on 

megumi and satoru are the worst at coping with this. 

for megumi, it’s such a 180, a switch has been completely turned on when it happens, that it makes him upset. he can’t even tell if he’s angry that it happened in the first place, that he couldn’t tell he was attracted to you before, that he can’t stop thinking about it now, or that it’s possible that other people could have already had this realization and be thinking of you like this too. every option brings a mean scowl to his face. and it’s embarrassing above all because you were just trying to take off your shoes. when lifting your leg and holding onto to his bicep wasn’t enough, you crouch down to struggle with the straps instead. megumi sighs—all he wanted to do was get your drunken ass home in one piece and now you’re crouched down in the middle of the street, and when he looks down to see what’s taking so long, that’s when it hits him. you bent down like that, looking up at him and groaning and pulling on his shirt and whining for him to help you does very terrible things to him. and it shouldn’t, you’re only calling for him because you lack the hand-eye coordination (and clearly critical thinking because this is the middle of the road and you cannot walk barefoot) right now to undo your shoes, but it’s your blown pupils and pout and the calling for him—you have to stop whining. and saying his name. immediately—not to mention the angle and tilt of your head to look up at him. megumi can barely help himself, much less you, which is why he grumbles, hoists you up by the scruff of your neck so you’re standing up right. you giggle in your haze but megumi just hisses his teeth, tells you “stop looking at me like that,” and before your mind can catch up, he grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder because looking at your face is not an option right now. and this is for the best for everyone—now your feet don’t hurt, you’ve stopped groaning, there’s no more eye contact, and megumi has the rest of the walk back to your apartment to contemplate what the fuck just happened to him 

for satoru, it’s actually partially his fault, because not only is it so far from sexual and yet turns him on anyway, but he’s so annoying that his actions lead to a cascade of other terrible turn-ons that and now it’s a cyclical problem. you’re just borrowing something of his for the convince of it—his glasses because it’s sunny, or maybe his jacket because it’s cold, something small and innocent—but it ignites such a strong flame in him that his visceral reaction is to snatch it right back from you, and run away like some school girl. “hey—satoru what the fuck, come on, you weren’t even using it!” you call, but your voice is already an echo at the speed he’s scurried away from you. the flash vision of you in his belongings was terrible, but it’s the memory of it that makes it worse, brings a blush to his face, and leave him shaking his head like a crazy person because what the fuck this is insane. you didn’t even do anything so he has no reason to act like this, there’s no way the slightest insinuation of you thinking of him/his belongings as something to borrow, or hold, or have should make him react this way, but it does. and he hates it. and he’s not normal about it at all, and it takes you confronting him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth, asking him what the fuck is wrong with him, which is warranted, but worse because that also leaves him red from his face to his check with Awful Realization Numbers 2 and 3: (2) you usually just Deal with him being strange, but right now you’re mad and you’re really hot when you’re mad, and (3) you’re very close to choking him out right now and if you did, he wouldn’t stop you

yuuji is the one who has had this effect on more people than he knows, which is hilarious to think about because he’s either completely oblivious, or using his charm to play innocent. and when you have that moment, you’re definitely left stunned. you were just fishing for more snacks for your self-care night—a tradition that used to between you and nobara, but now includes megumi, and most times yuuji, but tonight, he had plans with todo, which you were grateful for because there’s no way you could have been around him after what happened. in a hurry to grab his water bottle from the fridge, yuuji doesn’t bother you with words to maneuver through the cramped kitchen, just mindlessly puts his hands on your hips, lifts you, pivots, puts you down, grabs his water bottle, puts it on the counter, lifts you again, pivots, and places you right back where you were, flashing you a million-dollar smile, before grabbing his bottle and rushing out to catch the bus. you’re left blinking, body on autopilot as you finally reach for the chips, and zombie-like when you make your way back to the living room where nobara’s putting a sheet mask on megumi. when you’re finally seated on the couch, you blink for the first time, blurting out to nobody in particular, “is… is itadori hot?” and it’s comedic how quick, blasé, and autonomic the in-sync replies from both megumi and nobara are, “yes”, “unfortunately.” oh. well that’s reassuring you suppose. you might have been the last to realize it, but at least you’re not alone. 

if you told yuuta he had the ability to seduce anybody he would probably just laugh awkwardly and think it’s some kind of joke. the great irony is that rooming with him has left you with many instances to confirm that he is attractive, but the defining moment is when you realize just how much yuuta has grown in his year abroad. your apartment is nice and relatively modern, but there are still some tight spaces. usually you and yuuta just giggle while shuffling around each other, but today, you feel like you’ve gotten between a rock and another rock because when did yuuta—your scrawny, awkward, endearing yuuta—gain fifty pounds of muscle? it’s a terrible moment for you to be squished between him and the tiny enclosure of your storage closet and even worse that he’s the one who apologies, and smiles, and carries on reaching for the spare napkins while you’re left with the filthy thoughts about your best friend.