#it never got better cause it never fucking gets better and it makes me feel so insane

[loycos]

my head's a bit clearer, some thoughts about act 3

-my biggest gripe is episode 7- cool idea, love the concept of peaking into a different universe and seeing what our characters couldve been under different circumstances, but a WHOLE episode. when you only had 9 episode in this season, that already feel like theyre moving at a neck's pace. for a universe that ultimately doesn't matter to the main universe where the story takes place. the fact it had timebomb made it feel extremely fan service-y.

-no emotional resolution to a lot of characters. viktor and jayce are the only ones i can think of that felt like they got the screen time and care for an actual emotional closure.

-isha wasn't even mentioned in this act. in general she was already a martyr for jinx's character development but guys can you make it less obvious.

-it started in act 2, hence why i was so jaded on it, but it continues here: just where the fuck the political drama between 2 cities go? the conflict between zaun and piltover took a back seat since episode 4 and never came back. the resolution to it isn't bad per say, but when u got so little focus on it in the finale it just feels rushed.

-i loved the cait and jinx scene. but like, that was the resolution to it??? after act 1 thinking about it disappoints me. im not against a conversation being the climax to a story, but that is, and im not joking, the ONLY conversation these 2 have in the show one on one. in general the jinx\cait\vi arc ends with 1 conversation per duo (well caitvi got one fight and one very steamy sex scene but u won't catch me complaining). and after act 1, idk i think i wanted just a little bit more. im biased though- the jinx\vi\caitlyn dynamic is my favorite part about arcane. the teasers for s2 always had them front and center so i assumed it'll play a bigger part in the story???

-i felt like what the show was at its core, which is the conflict between the sisters and the cities, was completely sidelined this season. in general i can't really tell what the main theme of the show is anymore. but yeah look at the resolution to the jinx and vi story.did it feel like it had the emotional impact u expected? cause i felt like it was underwhelming.

-sevika?? didnt speak since episode 4???? huhh???

-maddie was pointless. why was she there?? i don't understand the point of that character. i dont understand her motives. she ended up not mattering at all to caitvi's story. the only thing i got from her inclusion is "caitlyn fucks" but is it that THAT important??? of a character trait??? to add to caitlyn of all people?? in THIS season??? this belongs in the realm of fanfiction.

-a lot here felt like fanfiction actually. every silco inclusion (except of him in the cell with jinx), the whole "nobody dies au" they threw in the middle, even the caitvi sex scene (IM NOT COMPLAINING THO). the caitvi scene at the end was dialog out of fanfiction, wtf was that.

-why did caitlyn lose her eye? im not like against the idea on a base level but losing an eye is very symbolic, and im not sure what its supposed to represent here. caitlyn is an observant person, its a big character trait for her. so youre basically saying she sees less now? that she's more laser focused? i sure hope not. wasnt her whole arc with giving up of revenge about seeing the "bigger picture"? her sacrifice didn't feel in character, because caitlyn is not really a "fight to the death" type of character like ambessa is. if she made that sacrifice for something like love, or for the betterment of other people, that would be more in line. idk, you couldve made me on board with it but im just very meh on it. also caitlyn only really emotes through her eyes, it sucks that we get even less of it now?? though i guess it doesnt matter at this point.

-what was the point of the enforcer that looked like vander?

-ambessa was so wasted in these last 2 acts its crazy. where's the "you have to be the fox and the wolf" mindset from her? she felt like she was wolfing only with no wit anymore by the 3rd act.

-mel????????????? it was. uhhh. maybe you shouldve saved it for another series, riot. but in this show, waste of time. the fight she had with caitlyn against ambessa was cool tho.

-i sound like im a hater but u have to understand. s1 of arcane was a political drama and a character study show. seeing all this discarded for magic and time travel shenanigans on like 4 different fronts was so jarring it took me out of the show multiple times.

-cant believe im saying that, but i wish they'd try to stick closer to the characters' current state in the source material (the cursed game). someof it felt out of left field and done for shock value, which isn't why we love the story or these characters to begin with.

good stuff:

-caitvi sex lmao ill take it babyyyyy

-jayce and viktor's scenes at the end were powerful.

-as usual, the visuals were phenomenal. the animation is gorgeous. fortiche u made this show what it is and youre still its saving grace.

-thank god they dropped the warwick\vander plot

-i liked the implication of the conclusion to jinx's story, even if it felt a little inconsistent with the character.

-the ending to jinx\vi\caitlyn was poetic and i did love it, even if it was rushed and didn't really hit the emotional highs i wanted it to.

[foodtruckery]

I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.

They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.

It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.

Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).

I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?

HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.

cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)

i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!

--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now. 

Not jarring enough to stop him, though. 

He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.

Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter. 

Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks. 

He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven. 

But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.

Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this. 

Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock. 

"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?" 

Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach. 

He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine. 

Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink  patch against his skin. 

Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother. 

"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him. 

"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with. 

Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."

He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.

And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat. 

"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again. 

"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again. 

Ford rips the packet open with his teeth. 

"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning. 

Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him. 

"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?" 

Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words." 

"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining. 

"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change." 

When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side. 

Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does. 

It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it. 

He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well. 

It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch. 

He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost. 

"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it. 

"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up. 

He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?" 

Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!" 

"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!" 

Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?" 

Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head. 

"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!" 

"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore." 

Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass. 

Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead. 

There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards. 

If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks. 

"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events. 

"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."

Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling.  

"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.

"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head. 

He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet. 

"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest. 

Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.

"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?" 

The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability. 

"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"

Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"

Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again. 

"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"

"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.

He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special. 

To be wanted. 

To be enough.

To fix things. 

"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes. 

When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is. 

More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind. 

It isn't. 

Ford is more certain of  the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time. 

And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for. 

It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him. 

Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name. 

And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation. 

Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair. 

"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them. 

Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue. 

He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."

Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself.  His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not? 

Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt. 

Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"

Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet. 

They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips. 

The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's. 

Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders. 

"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free. 

Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process. 

It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him. 

"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."

He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound. 

When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap. 

"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out. 

"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh. 

He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement. 

His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap. 

It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face. 

Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.

"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub,  rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap. 

Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier. 

He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again. 

He's missed this, Ford realizes. 

Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true. 

But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again? 

Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name. 

He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him. 

Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on. 

"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!" 

The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption. 

He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again. 

Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut. 

"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after. 

The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat. 

".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.

When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused. 

The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time. 

Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.

[a1ecmcdowell]

bonnie!reader & clyde!dean - the name of the game, baby!

includes, crime :( but for the good of the people! the sexual tension is high but nothing ever gets done ab it sorry for the edging pt 2 soon tho

★ ˚⋆

times were tough these days. dean hadn't known a moment of peace from the very moment he decided that hunting wasn't doing shit for sustaining him, and, well... when he met you.

he'd made up his mind already that hunting was a deadend for him. as much as it killed him to think, it was. how could you keep up a job that didn't pay you, and expect to stay afloat? he wasn't.

it started with dining and dashing when he could, scrounging together the scraps of change and loose bills in his pockets for better things than something like a meal that he had to have or he'd die. putting money directly into corporate pockets when he'd then be out of a bed for the night was not something that he ever wanted to do.

until he met you. by chance, and by the threads of fate, you wound yourself around his heart and never let go.

he was finishing up the handful of fries on his plate, eyes drifting around the room as the waitresses moved to-and-fro. they hadn't stopped by him in a while, so he figured that he was either safe, or about to get approached and interrogated about another round of beer.

he'd take one, sure, but it'd be added to a tab he wasn't going to pay, so it was in their best interest to keep their noses out of his business.

one of the women catches his eye anyways, and she's making her way over with a noticeable sway of her hips and a swish to her long blonde hair, when-

the bell over the entrance door rings as the glass bursts open. in stumbles you, buttoning up the white blouse you wore without even looking up from it, loose and disheveled hair swaying in the burst of air your entrance caused.

you were beautiful, even in your mess, and even when your mouth opened to beg for forgiveness to a man behind the counter. "sorry! my car is shit, it wouldn't start, and-"

"louise has been covering your ass for thirty extra minutes," the man interrupts, his face stoic and unbreakable. "unpaid. don't apologize to me on your lack of punctuality, apologize to louise."

dean watches the whole exchange from his red-cushioned booth by the window, each second making his eyes narrow further. great. now he was getting a heart about stealing from this joint, just because of the way he now knew you girls were treated here. probably would have to cover his tab yourselves.

he sighs. they can't all be winners.

you're making your way over to him, and at first, with his fry smothered in a slurry of ketchup, he thinks you must be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and here he is, shoveling down fries like a starved man.

fry drops back onto the plate. the waitress who'd been on her way over to dean is halted by your worried little mouth running all over again. "louise-"

"fuck him. i don't mind a second of it." louise pats your forearm with her hand. "it's not even been busy. he's just a dick. this one's my last."

her free hand lifts to gesture at dean, and he again feels a flush of awareness when louise turns to him, and then follows you. your eyes nearly freeze him on the spot. big and bright. christ.

"no, it's okay, i've got him," you say, and the smile you give to him and then to her does freeze him, ice cold and solid in this shoddy little booth. "you just head on home, alright?"

dean at least tries to look like he hadn't been eavesdropping. drops his head again, picks up that discarded fry from his plate.

"hi, sorry about that," you say around a frazzled sigh when you approach his table, and he can't help but bristle at how many apologies he's heard you utter in the last five minutes, all of them unnecessary. "anything i can getcha?"

he actually cannot stop looking at you. you missed a button three down from your collar, the shirt a bit crooked because of the slip. your nimble hands were in the process of tying your hair up and out of your face, flyaways dancing in the fluorescents of the diner like strands of glitter.

no, he wasn't planning on getting anything else. had cemented that idea the moment he decided he couldn't just steal from this place.

but the thought of asking for the check after only getting a few moments with you... wasn't going to fly for him.

dean lifts the empty glass bottle from the edge of his table. "just another one of these, sugar."

your lips curl something wicked, and he doesn't know why, but he knows that he feels like a teenage boy again, with the way his heart flutters at the sight. "that it?"

"yeah, that's it," and you really are a little minx, not as innocent as the act you give to your boss and your coworkers, because he can almost see the fire brewing behind your eyes, "why, you got somethin' else you wanna give me?"

that usually gets him a flush, bright pink warmth on the faces of the waitresses he says it too. you, though, only seem to brighten at the question. fire stoked. "a piece of my mind, maybe."

"alright, so sit that pretty ass down and give it to me."

you seem taken aback by it for a second, your entire face warming to such a pretty pink. your eyes flit back to the kitchen, and then to the open space in the booth across from him, and slowly, you sink down into it.

"hit me, sugar," dean says, leaning back against the ruby red cushions, "give me a little piece of that mind."

"you were gonna steal, weren't you?" you say, so fast and quick that he's taken aback this time. "when lou was leavin'. you were bankin' on her back being turned."

dean resists the urge to whistle under his breath. what an odd little talent that is, catching crimes before they happen. "nah."

"'nah'," you mimic, and his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead, "i know your type. thinkin' you're some kind of robin hood, skippin' the dollar on big brother."

"i'm not going to, sugar," he insists, more firmly this time, feeling a little on edge by your blasé attitude. he'd expect someone so accurate in their assessments to already have him by the ear, leading him into the hands of the guys with cuffs. "can't make you pay for food you didn't eat, can i?"

"i can afford a beer and a plate of fries, babe," you shoot right back at him, a sickly sweet smile on those pretty pink lips of yours. "i can't afford to sit here and waste my time cracking jokes with a joke."

dean does whistle this time, a scoff of laughter falling from his mouth. "y'think i'm a joke, huh?"

"i think anyone who claims they're doing things to damn the man is." your arms fold over your chest, the blouse bunching up beneath your breasts and pushing them up just enough-- "hey. eyes up here." fuck. "that's exactly what i'm sayin'. all damn the man but you're still a tool."

"that mean you wanna use me?"

this little back and forth was the most fun dean had had in weeks. months, even, if he discredited the cheap nights with easy girls in dirty motel rooms.

"no," you stumble the words out, spluttering them out like they burn your tongue. "i don't even know your name."

"dean."

your eyes linger on his for a few moments longer, like you're trying to assess if this is another one of his lies. you must like what you see reflected back, though, because you smile, slow and languid. "dean."

the silence that follows is short-lived and buzzing. then, your lips part again. "were you really going to dine and dash?" a test. you don't sound mad, or like you're interested in turning him in at all.

his shoulders lift in a slight shrug. "that's just the name of the game, baby." he leans forward with his elbows resting on the rickety table between the two of you. "damn the man, right?"

one second passes, then two, and then you're snatching a fry from the plate in between you, dipping it in the pool of ketchup on the edge of his plate. "there are much more fun ways to damn the man."

notes, WEEEEEE i was gonna do fallen angel!dean first but something ab these two were STUCK in my head hope u dont mind

tags, @jasvtsc @depressionbarbie2023 @figthoughts @titsout4nicholas

(if u wanna be added to this btw / u are supposed to be and i keep forgetting pls know it's not a vendetta i am just a silly lil lady who doesn't know what she's doing ok)

[takamiwife]

Got sick and can not stop coughing at all and yhe worst part is my period started the same time rip

Could i request a lil comfort thing for hawks or dabi comforting the reader who is sick and also feels even worse cause she has rlly bad cramps?

AWW I HOPE YOURE FEELING BETTER :(( sorry this is likely out after you’re all better but this still deserves to be written !! if you’ve submitted something to my inbox dw, i have seen it and it’s in my drafts, im just going in order!! 💞 also, there’s some sex and the city spoilers toward the end of it, for season 3, so just watch out for that if you’re watching it/interested in watching it!

well, sick season was back and hit you full force. you woke up, your throat feeling like it had been scratched by a thousand cats and your nose stuffed. you groaned, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. you shuffled out into the kitchen, nearly passing out from reaching up into the cabinet to get some tea.

“baby? are you okay? you’re up early” keigo yawned, following you out into the kitchen

all it took was for you to turn around, looking at keigo; tired, darkened eyes, puffy cheeks, and your body being able to stand.

“jesus, you definitely are not,” he frowned, putting a hand to your forehead. “you don’t feel like you have a fever… here, come on, sit down,” he guides you over to the couch, watching as you slump against the comfortable throw pillows. he hands you the remote and moves back into the kitchen, immediately making you some tea — you never seemed to have an appetite when you were sick, but hopefully you could handle this.

after adorning your tea with honey, he moved back to the couch, placing them in front of you, replacing the throw pillows with his own body as you lay on his lap.

you whimper, holding your stomach; as if everything else wasn’t bad enough, the universe decided to curse you with cramps too.

he stroked your hair, using a few of his feathers to retrieve the pill bottle from the bathroom, not wanting to move from his position. he opened the red-capped bottle, tapping a few pills into his hand. “here, cmon, you can sit up for me right?” he coos, helping you sit up and make sure you toon the pills, hopefully to at least help with the pain. “there we go, that’s my girl” he smiled

“don’t you have work?” you say quietly, moving your head back down to his lap.

“i can be a little late, they can manage without me. don’t worry about it, alright?” he said softly, running his hands along your side.

now, had you woken up with dabi, it would go a little different.

you lay in your shared bed, surrounded by his scent, but your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. he had been out all night doing.. god knows what with the league, and you had woken up with all of the worst symptoms imaginable. you scrolled on your phone, praying he’d be back soon so he could help you.

luckily, something listened, as he cracked the door open, trying his best to be quiet; a surprisingly sweet gesture from him when he was out all night on missions.

“shit, are you okay?” he kneeled in front of you. “you look awful”

“thanks for the reminder,” you say through a stuffed nose. “my throat is on fire, i can barely breathe through my nose, and of course i have to have fucking cramps..”

“well.. hey, at least you aren’t pregnant” he shrugged

you glare at him, a small part of you finding the silver lining a bit amusing

“can you.. help me, please? you know, like a good boyfriend?” you hide your smile

“uhh…” dabi trailed off, playing with a strand of your hair. of course he wanted to help, he just.. didn’t really know how. he didn’t really get sick, and if he did he just popped whatever pill was in his cabinet and said fuck it and continued on. “yea.. what do you want? we’ve probably got a whole stash somewhere - xanax, percocet, oxy, if you want something a little stronger.. uh, a little coke might not hurt, just rub it on your gums”

“are you insane?” you stare at him blankly. “do you just have, like.. tylenol? midol? anything like that? and not.. crushed up and in a line. in pill form”

“yea, yea, let me go check. pussy..” he muttered, shooting you a smirk.

you used your little strength to smack his arm, unable to hide your smile.

after digging around under his sink, he was finally able to find some normal, non-hard drug tylenol.

he returned to you, holding onto your side as you sat up, taking the pills with a swig of water.

“you uh.. really don’t feel good, do you?”

“you couldn’t tell?” you ask through your scratchy voice.

as you lay back down, he looked at you, your eyes closing as you groaned. he tried to remember back when he was a child; there was a short period of time where he got quite sick during the winter, and his mother was nothing short of a saint. cartoons, warm soup, medicinal tea, cool wash clothes on the forehead.. the whole nine yards. it was clear that what you needed right now was him, and he was more than willing to give that to you.

“c’mere..” he shuffled beside you, pulling you onto his chest. “are you.. hungry? do you want anything warm? that’d help your throat, right?”

“not right now.. just wanna sleep right now..” you say into his chest, and he pulls the warm blanket over you, kissing your head as you fall back asleep, finally sound and able.

now, as you fell back asleep on keigo’s lap, he knew he couldn’t ignore his work any longer or they’d have his head on a spike. in an indiana-jones style move, he replaced his lap with a pillow, draping a blanket over your sleeping form. he kneeled in front of you, watching you sleep as he kissed your forehead.

“i’ll be back soon, okay? i’m sorry i have to leave..” he whispered, brushing some hair away from your face.

luckily, with the day being quite boring, within about three hours of working, he was able to convince his side kicks to take over for the day; “you guys can handle this, i have a sick girlfriend i need to take care of. i mean, what horrible things are going to happen, it’s a random tuesday.”

back at home, you stirred back to life, the pain now having subsided a decent amount. you reach for your phone on the coffee table that sat beside your tea, clicking keigo’s contact. he picked up rather quickly, his voice being a comfort on the other line.

“hey my love, finally awake huh?” you could hear his smile through the screen.

“yea, i just woke up”

“ah, well your throat sounds a bit better. how are the cramps?”

“um, a lot better.. sorry to make you late, but i appreciate you staying with me”

keigo chuckled

“they were fine without me, love. actually, i just left them”

“what? but-“

“but nothing. i’m on my way home, want me to get your favorite?”

you sit up, smiling. “…if it isn’t too much trouble”

“i figured you’d say that. i’m already on my way there. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“okay.. i love you”

“i love you too”

still being held in dabi’s arms, you slept surprisingly soundly despite everything. he slipped out of your grip, making sure you were comfortable before going to the raggedy kitchen downstairs, searching for anything that could make you feel better. but he was doubtful the crumbs in the dirty cupboards would help much. so, with no other choice, he put on his hoodie and a mask, pulling it up over his nose, less likely to be recognized.

so, after walking a few blocks to the nearest convenience store (that also happened to have a deli), he returned home with your favorite soup, a box of tea bags, and an ice cream bar for you to enjoy later if you felt better. after placing the ice cream in the fridge, he made a nice warm cup of tea (thanks to the help of his quirk) and brought that, along with your soup up to the room, setting it on the bedside table.

“hey,” he shook you gently. “i got you something.”

“mmh.. you’re supposed to let sick people sleep.” you whined.

“fine, go on and sleep, but your soup is gonna get cold”

you opened your eyes; okay, you were quite hungry now. you reluctantly sat up, placing your back against the wall.

“there she is,” he grinned slyly. “morning sunshine” he said, handing you the cup of soup with the plastic spoon. “and there’s um.. tea, too.”

“wow, you really went all out, huh?” you smile from over the cup.

“of course i did. it’s for you, after all.” he brushed it off.

“well, thank you honey.” you coo, gently scratching his chin. damn, he loved when you did that.

he sat beside you, occasionally accepting bites of your soup.

“if i get sick from this, you’re so dead” he

“you’d love me taking care of you, don’t lie”

“…fair enough”

within about forty five minutes, keigo had returned home, takeout bags in hand as you paused your show. he placed them down on the coffee table in front of you, unpacking them.

“thank you, kei. i mean it, really. you didn’t have to do all this.” you say, smiling at him as he came back with plates for the two of you.

“what do you mean? of course i did. i love you, and you didn’t feel good, so of course i had to help you feel better.” he said, placing the food onto a plate and handing it to you.

“well, still-“

“still nothing,” he cut you off, leaning toward you. “you take care of me all the time. this was nothing compared to all you do for me.”

your heart swelled as you stared at his determined face.

“now, catch me up. what’s going on with the girls?” he gestured to the tv.

“well, carrie just cheated on aidan with mr. big…”

after a few hours of lazing about and watching your favorite show on dabi’s phone, he returned to the room with his hands behind his back.

“i got something else for you, too… figured since you’re feeling better..” he pulled out the wrapped ice cream bar, holding it out to you.

“oh, baby..”

“i know it’s not the best, but it could help your throat feel better and.. i dunno, you like ice cream, so..”

you sit up on your knees on the bed, pulling him into a hug.

and as you enjoy your treat, he sits beside you.

“so, feeling better?”

“much. thank you, doctor.” you tease.

“well.. good. i don’t like seeing you like this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, holding your ice cream up to him.

as much as he hated seeing you sick, dabi loved taking care of you for the day. of course he wanted you to feel better, but.. he wouldn’t mind another day of holding you in bed.

[razorblade180]

A Quiet Home

Jaune:*walks in* Hey, I’m back.

Weiss:*writing*….

Jaune:I umm, got some food. Saph said she always makes too much so-

Weiss:You should’ve turned it down. Your nephew is a growing boy.

Jaune:She wouldn’t have offered if she couldn’t help. How’s rent looking?

Weiss:Despite my colossal fuck up on the mission, it’s covered.

Jaune:Hey, what’s important is-

Weiss:Jaune, don’t patronize me. I screwed up, got my leg hurt, got the client hurt, and lost the target. *puts pen down* Thankfully I found another high paying one. It’s a three weeks long and I’m-

Jaune:Actually…I put in a request to take that mission too. Client said he’ll think it over.

Weiss:*turns around* Excuse me? You’re taking my job line ups? You went in the last two missions. It’s my turn to-

Jaune:You need a break.

Weiss:Tsk, not this shit again. I just had a break!

Jaune:Crunching bill numbers is not a break. Weiss, your head isn’t in the game, and that’s fine. After all, your mom…

Weiss: “My mom” nothing we aren’t talking about this. There’s nothing to talk about. She lived drunk and died drunk. Predictable ending.

Jaune:Weiss-

Weiss:Give me space! And cancel your request while you’re at it. You’re in no condition to go on another assignment so quickly.

Jaune:…I’m not letting you go on that mission.

Weiss:Sorry, you’re not letting me? *stands up* I don’t remember needing your approval.

Jaune:That’s not what I-

Weiss:No it was, or else you wouldn’t have applied for the same mission despite our agreement. I made one mistake and now it goes out the window?

Jaune:You’re angry.

Weiss:Of FUCKING course I’m angry! I’m trying to keep these lights on and not burden others while you’re bringing in leftovers and stopping my job!

Jaune:You’re not doing your job! You’re running away from your problems!

Weiss:Oh you’re one to talk! The only reason why you’re here is because moving back in with your folks would be too much to handle.

Jaune:I moved in with you because you needed a roommate! My girlfriend was cutoff and alone and I could help! All I’ve been doing is trying to help!

Weiss:I didn’t ask for your help! I was handling things just fine!

Jaune:You were struggling.

Weiss:AND I’M NOT NOW!? Does it make you feel a little better to say you tried. Can’t help but I want to fix things huh?

Jaune:That’s not fair.

Weiss:Oh now we want to be fair? After intentionally making my job harder? For someone who is “trying to help” it never really works out for you now does it!? Not for me not for P-

She immediately covered her mouth, scared and shocked from the venom that almost slipped past her lips; this carelessness was given back with a stare of contempt that ate at her.

Weiss:I-

Jaune:There was a never a second I thought you were broken, or needed to be fixed. Guess that was my fault. Looks like your father did a number on you after all.

Her blood went cold. Weiss’s cheeks began to burn red as her anger boiled over.

Weiss:And yours never cared to do a swing to begin with.

Jaune:Speaking from experience?

Weiss:Get. Out.

Jaune:….

Weiss:I SAID GET OUT! I DON’T NEED THIS FROM YOU! I DON’T NEED YOU!

Jaune:…Good, cause you don’t have me. Sell my stuff for all I care.

He reaches in his pocket and throws his key at her. Weiss catches on reflex before hearing a thunderous boom as Jaune slams the door on the way out that shakes the room and cause a picture to shatter. The room is deathly silent as Weiss stares at the door.

Weiss:F-FINE! RUN BACK TO YOUR FAMILY!

………..

Not knowing what to do, Weiss simply grabbed her broom to clean up the mess Jaune made. Glass was half hazardly swept aside as she picked up a broken frame holding a photo of her laughing with Jaune, their face covered with cake from their house party with a banner overhead.

“A year of memories and miracles”

Weiss’s hand began to tremble until the picture slipped from her fingers. A giant pit filled her stomach and threatened to gag her as her knees fell to floor and her hands covered a ghastly wail. Finally, her breath was robbed and tears broke through shaking eyes filled with dread over the reality that was flooding in. The miracles were gone, and the memories, now bittersweet.

[clonerightsagenda]

Kat's "I could fix him" Arcane post pt 2:

Yeah it's him this time.

The Jayce, Viktor, and disability storyline is where Arcane s2 gets the most incoherent, imo. I never got the impression in s1 that Viktor wants to "fix his imperfections". He just doesn't want to die. Also, his problems were caused by apathy and classism, not generic human emotion. (Blaming human emotion in general sure lets the rich and powerful off the hook, right?) At the end of s1, Viktor wants Jayce to destroy the hex core, but then in s2 he's embracing it. Also at the start of s2 he claims he's moved beyond affection, but then later tells Jayce he left without explaining himself because he was clouded by emotion. Viktor was upset about the idea of using hextech as weapons but then willingly helps Ambessa's army. We also have Viktor claiming "that's not Jayce" and Jayce having some visible arcane corruption, but that never goes anywhere. I'm still genuinely not sure how the show wanted me to interpret his s2 thought processes.

So, how would I deal with this? By leaning way way harder into the Horrors of Ableism and the Medical Model of Disability.

Viktor wanted Jayce to destroy the hex core. Instead, Jayce uses it to save his life against his wishes. After that, Viktor's affect changes, he goes into the Undercity, and non-consensually transforms someone else. Other disabled and chronically ill people come to him willingly, but this is a world where even one of the most powerful people in Piltover can't get a fucking wheelchair ramp. A quick fix is appealing, even if it means giving up some of who you are. You've already been unpersoned by society, after all.

Hextech is something Viktor and Jayce created together, and it seems to respond to intent and emotions, so let's take it to extremes. That's not Viktor. That's hextech, influenced by both Jayce and Viktor, and it answered Jayce's desperation. The man of progress, the herald of tomorrow, wanted to save his friend. He wanted to fix what was broken. Here you go! I made him even better. Now while I'm at it, I'll fix everybody else too!

Have purple disability Jesus!Viktor be embodied hextech on a well-meaning rampage. Meanwhile, mindscape Viktor debates it while it's wearing Sky's face. He feels betrayed by Jayce and guilty about Sky, but also he did want to bring better things to the Undercity. Is this the best way to do it? Is the only way to play the abled world's game abandoning who you used to be? He's not sure, and he starts to waver/get weaker as Sky/hextech gets stronger with more followers in its hivemind.

Following my last post, as hextech!Viktor helps Jinx with her shimmer issues, maybe he also tries to 'fix' her psychosis. (Side note, it would have been nice to make it clear that AU-verse!Powder still has psychosis, so it's not so clearly associated with Jinx's villain era. I'm sure stress and trauma makes it worse, but still.) He's unsuccessful at this, or perhaps Jinx resists it, and this can be something he reflects on later at the end when Jayce talks about our imperfections being important and part of who we are/the world around us.

Anyway, hextech!Viktor wants access to the gate to make everybody perfect and fully intends to doublecross Ambessa and remake her too. For her own good, of course. Real Viktor is exhausted in the mindscape. His partner wants to kill him, hextech is out of control, and even the downtrodden people he 'helped' have been destroyed. Then Jayce gets dragged into the mindscape and the hextech goes look, you created me and I've expanded on your vision. I saved your partner, I brought about the era of magic, I've created the men of tomorrow. And as in canon, Jayce can go no, Viktor, I didn't save you because I wanted to fix you, I just wanted you to live, there's nothing wrong with you. You don't need a glorious evolution, we just need to help people be better at being who they already are. And that encourages Viktor to overpower the hex tech possessing him.

Then they can still collapse into a gay singularity if you want I guess. Personally I think it's kind of a bummer that dozens of disabled people got obliterated and everyone would've been better off if Viktor had lay down and died of Limp And Coughing Blood Disease from the start but ymmv. IDK what my better ending of 'Jayce and Viktor embrace the social model of disability' would look like but if everyone gets sent to Zaun maybe it would involve coming up with assistive tech like they originally envisioned. And maybe Viktor still will die of lung disease. But he can do it on his terms if so.

[jessilynallendilla]

DPXDC YOUNG/JUSTICE LEAGUE FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

& THE JUSTICE LEAGUE 

Vertical Limit  T 

Danny gets summoned by the League, and he actually kind of adopts them in the process. Because these big city heroes don't know anything about ghosts and who is he if he doesn't help them out? Besides, the Watchtower is in space. Danny's always wanted to go to space... 

Blue-Eyed Orphan  M 

First Maddie Fenton is diagnosed with cancer, then Jack Fenton dies in a car crash, that ironically enough, he wasn't driving in. Danny does his best to hold on, but eventually he just can't. And then he falls into another universe, oops? He doesn't know if he'll ever make it back to his sister, to Dani, too Sam and Tucker and Val, he hopes so.  But hope isn't exactly getting him anywhere yet. Also this world has superheroes other than him! And he may be, uh, sort of getting attached? Whats a blue eyed orphan to do in Gotham? 

Down The Rabbit Hole (Goes The Throne)  T 

After defeating an unusual creature, three members of the Justice League find themselves incidentally transported to an unfamiliar realm. There, they receive the help of a teenager by the name of 'Danny'. Only, as they find out, their helper might not be Danny at all. Batman plans to step in, with the aide of his family, to unravel the mystery. And quite the mystery it is. There's something Wrong with Amity Park, but what does one Danny Fenton have to do with any of it? As it turns out: everything and nothing. And that's the least confusing part. 

The Truth  T 2,218 SERIES 

"Oh my god, this is my fault..." Flash said quietly, pulling at his mask as if he was trying to pull on his hair. 

Hawkgirl snapped at him, her voice full of sorrow and frustration instead of her usual anger, "No," her voice was firm and bitter," This is Ivy's fault, I'll kill the bit-" 

"Ay fucking shit!" 

They all damn near shit their pants when the corpse sat up with a loud gasp and almost screamed that out. Imagine their confusion when Phantom of all people pulled the cape off him and stood up.  

The Haunting Of The League  G 8,155 

A ghost is haunting the watchtower and the League doesn't know what to make of it 

Spooks  1,260 SERIES 

Danny has a lot more power than they originally thought. 

Clone Buddies  T 2,563 SERIES 

Superman is having some problems accepting the fact that he has a clone. Danny decides to introduce them to Dani.  His Clone. 

A Phantom's Way  NR 

Danny Fenton has been doing the Hero gig for a little over two years now and things have been getting both better and worse. He is friends and partners with Valerie/Red Huntress, he is no longer friends with Sam and Tucker. Many of his Ghost enemies are now his friends and now there only few trouble makers that he and Red Huntress have to take care of, the GIW and his parents are more determined than ever to catch Danny's alter-ego, Phantom, and make him their lab rats. And now the whole world is being invaded by aliens. Well, he got to meet more famous superheroes and helped formed the Justice league. Wait, what? 

Never Judge A Book By Its Cover  T 8,688 SERIES   

They had a problem. A big problem. A madman had bonded with an eldritch god from space, it went wrong, and now there was a possessed human rampaging, eating everything it crosses. Constantine and Zatanna had an idea - they found a book about a Ghost King, a being from another dimension so powerful and so dangerous that they only suggested this summoning as a last resort. What they got was a underfed and sleep deprived kid that knows about:- possession- eldritch gods- space 

Bloodlines  M 

Diana stumbles upon a prophecy, which thus leads her tumbling into a secret long since kept from her and Batman. They had a son together, one who was ripped out of her arms not long after his birth. A son who is prophesized to cause the apocalypse and end the world as they know it. Although they are no longer a couple, they intend to find and raise their son to ensure this prophecy never comes to be. Neither of them realize that he's way ahead of them. 

Rehoming  G 

Au where the Justice League discovered Amity Park and actually believed some of what the Fentons were saying. The JL believed that the "beings" on the other side of the portal were animalistic in nature and incapable of higher thought and understanding. She was only living out an obsession or an echo of a person long past. Seeing as they morally couldn't just wipe out an entire race of semi-sentient beings they decided to instead relocate the ones who trespassed into the living realm to areas better suited to fulfill their obsessions without harming the people around them. He knew he would have to be more careful as Phantom, but he always made sure to book it when he felt the JL getting near to his territory. The problem occurs when Phantom had just caught some blob ghosts his parents had been chasing when he felt the sting of a tranquilizer dart hitting him in the back. Then everything went dark. 

Life Alert (PeePaw, Please, I'm Begging)  G 

The Flash Family is at their wits end as humanity is cannibalized by a hivemind virus. As the last few survivors die one by one and the heroes run out of time and solutions, Barry, Wally, and Bart are forced to use Flashpoint as their final attempt to make things right. They find something unexpected at the origin of it all: A God with maybe-dementia and his very doting grandson. Danny Fenton, after half-dying, becoming a hero, and defending his town from ghosts, ghouls, Drs. Fenton, and any other problem that threatened his town's safety since he died at 14, needs a bit of a break. At 16, everyone thought it would be good for him if he lived in the Ghost Zone with Clockwork to give him some peace and quiet to get his grades up. No one predicted that the Ghost of Time would be that off his rocker, but, in hindsight, maybe trying to smite a 14-year-old to get him to be a good person was a clue. 

Ouroboros  M 57,071  

In the end, it was Jack and Maddie that caused Phantom. It was Phantom that caused the downfall of Jack and Maddie. It was Jack and Maddie that destroyed Danny Fenton. It was Danny Fenton who accepted Phantom. And so Ouroboros swallowed himself. 

The Ghost King Just Wants To Sleep (But He's Too Workaholic)  T 41,997 SERIES 

Five times when the Justice League saw Danny in a bad light, and once when everything was just awful. 

The Road To Hell  G 921 SERIES 

There's a whole community of ectoscientists who all agree that ghosts aren't sentient. The science is peer reviewed, and well researched and government approved. That's why Batman and the Justice league agree to help the fight against this new threat. With their support, those new laws will be in effect in no time 

Rage Room  T 

Danny Fenton is so done. after everything with Dan he realizes that he needs to be better, and he's trying s damn hard to do it. almost hurts. yet why does everyone around him still treat him like a villain? clockwork realizes that Danny cannot survive going this way, but can't seam to talk him out of this, so instead, he gives Danny an outlet for it all. transporting him to the metropolis to allow the half to let off some steam, while Danny accidentally catches the attention of a few of the local heroes In this dimension for all the wrong reasons. what will happen when he starts making a name for himself as the most chaotic good villain in the game? 

Just Bury Me Already  G 

Danny finally gets to go to space. not as an astronaut, he definitely doesn't meet those health requirements, but as an engineer in the JL watch tower. the GIW try to work with the JL to capture Phantom, who has been 'suspiciously' missing for a few months. Danny overhears the conversations and screws himself over. 

Dignified Ancient Adults  T 2,806 

Danny gets called to the Watchtower to discuss the situation in Amity Park, the atrocities of the GIW, and to set the record straight on ghosts. Here's the thing, the Justice League apparently thinks he's thousands of years old, and he just goes along with it because what else is a halfa trying to hide his identity supposed to do? He's not the only kid pretending to be an ancient being at the meeting. 

A League Of Apologies  T 4,518 SERIES 

The Justice League messed up and for a whole year Danny Phantom was left saving the world without their help. The League knows they messed up, but now it's time to make sure it never happens again. 

WIP (Work In Phantom)  G 

Danny is transported back in time to the very beginning where he discovers that the Justice League is going to be formed soon. What will he do? 

Destruction Of Amity Park  M 

The GIW destroyed everything and everyone in Amity Park trying to obtain Danny Phantom. Both portals were destroyed to stop ghosts from going in and coming out. Danny unable to get himself to leave his old haunt stays in the crumbling town alone. After the incident, Phantom stops turning human and accepts that he'll be alone till the end of time. The Justice League hear about an abandoned, destroyed town outside the town of Elmerton in Illinois. Sending out Batman and Superman to investigate and to see why they were never aware that an entire town was destroyed without them knowing. Especially when it was 1 year ago, and are only getting calls now. They meet a tired Phantom and wish to help him while not knowing anything about him or what he is. Hoping they can give him a happy life (or after-life). 

Phantom's Familial Tales (DPxDC Family Week One-Shot Collection)  G 33,242 SERIES 

A series of One-Shots putting Danny into situations involving heroes from the DC world. Severals prompts were inspired or given by others and written by me! 

Planned Obsolescence  G   

Danny liked to think he had made a life for himself outside of the hero gig, that he'd put down the metaphorical cape, gone to fancy engineering school, and landing himself a job at S.T.A.R. Labs. So walking into the main lobby at 6am he was understandably a little unnerved to find a member of the Justice League there, waiting for him. 

The Health And Wellbeing Of Hybrid Entities  T 

Adrift in an unknown space, his transportation lost, his body a wreck, and only half-conscious, Danny has to find himself somewhere safe to recover. Now, if only he can convince the locals to leave him alone while he does... 

Danny's Accidentally Super-Inducing Adoption Chaos Filled Extravaganza!  T 24,476 SERIES 

Clockwork liked Daniel. He liked this very, specific Daniel. And his world was already on the track to ruins, so the world would barely notice if he was gone. And besides Clockwork's always had a problem with meddling. Or; Clockwork takes Danny from the DP universe and plops him into the DC universe as a 5 year old. He's got all his powers and not a lot of his memories but hey! At least the Justice League is there! Or, Or; My spin on the whole 'its a small overpowered Danny in a big world' kinda thing. 

In The Shadow Of Speculation  T 

Daniel Nightingale, ex Fenton, moves to Gotham for a fresh start. It's next to his friends, it's so very different from Amity Park, and Lady Gotham has promised her Knights will protect him. The world as he knew it has changed, and no longer has a place as a combat hero. Not when he's more likely to flinch than to dodge, not when the sight of a knife is enough to force him back to a time and a place he never wanted to see again. In an attempt to adapt, Danny turns to being a specialized hero-medic; his sole focus is helping and evacuating, not fighting. Except that no one told him Death Energy had the same reading to Geiger counters as gamma radiation. It isn't, but apparently Geiger counters can't tell the difference. 

Gamble Your Life Away  NR 

Danny just wants a moment of peace. Really, he started this Casino awhile back to let his Rogues Gallery waste time and energy gambling instead of property damage. It’s not his fault the Casino became a bit of a safe place! (Honestly speaking, Danny prefers it over his/Pariah’s old keep. That place is creepy.) So… Why are there there grown cosplayers demanding him to get his boss? He is the boss. He practically lives here anymore. What a bunch of Karens. 

Here Is A Complete List Of Everything I've Ever Been Afraid Of  T 

Bruce feels the cold on his skin the moment he walks into the cavernous room. It settles over him like a fog, raises goosebumps under his suit. He sees Robin shiver slightly beside him, and then scowl at the display. Damian’s reactions usually bring a subtle smile to Bruce’s face, but this place seems to grab hold of any positive emotion and suck it out—or, at least, that’s what Bruce would say if he was being slightly less logical about it all. It’s not the place, it’s not even the obnoxious and persistent cold. It’s the small orb in the center of the room. It seems the entire universe is reacting to this Orb and to the power it holds, including magic users and ghosts. And what's this about a missing Ghost King? 

Death Echoes  T 59,528 SERIES 

Cold air on the back of his neck. Skeletal fingertips skittering up his spine, barely there and yet pressing so hard they would surely leave indents. A sound like an iceberg cracking apart echoing in his ears and through his head, pain following in its wake.  His throat went cold, his tongue suddenly numb. And for a second - just a second - he smelled nothing but the stench of death. Danny's coronation is a big affair, with ghosts coming from all over the Zone to attend and celebrate. Unbeknown to him, it isn't only the Infinite Realms that feel his crowning. 

Between The Broken Glass And Tears In Your Eyes, Consumption Is The Only Way I'll Understand It; I Hope You'll Forgive Me Someday  M 587 SERIES 

They still don't know a lot about Danny. This...is one of the more unfortunate finds. Or; How do you scold a five year old when they could probably eat you? Or or; Barry's on Danny duty. And he royally screws up and now someone's dead because of it. Can be read as a standalone if you're up for vaguely confusing settings and allusions to a plot you don't know. 

Divided We Stand  T 6,975 SERIES 

After a new law puts further restrictions and scrutiny on the Justice League, Batman and countless other heroes leave the organization's roster to circumvent the rule. Phantom is just one of them. This is the aftermath. And the beginning of the end. 

Chaos Gremlin's Playtime  T 

Danny gets told by Clockwork to go relax and have some fun in the DC universe. Danny, gremlin that he is, decides this means he is free to cause chaos in whatever ways he so chooses. All in good fun of course. 

Death In The Hometown   T 37,910 SERIES 

Amity Park is a rather odd town. It's filled with ghosts that attack regularly, and it's figured out how to protect itself without needing to call in anyone else for help. But when the unusual body of a young boy is found buried in the park with no real leads they make the decision to ask the Justice League for help. Meanwhile, Danny wishes they'd just let him rest in peace. 

Janus  M 26,901 

Danny had only meant to lay his head down and recoup after the latest ghost fight had left him spent. He hadn't meant to fall asleep and wake up to an unfamiliar temple and a suit of armor he'd never seen before. As Danny tries to retrace his steps, he learns with dawning horror that he may be missing more than he'd thought. 

Time Rewound And Space Unbound  T 

A Rituals gone horrible wrong as the Great God of Time was reborn... as a women, and a babe clung to her chest. The Justice League doesn't know what they are getting into as the Greek Gods soon finds a horrible Secret that was kept from the very Beginning may very well shift the entirety of Greek History. 

Phantom’s Hope  M 

Danny is tired. The Justice League give him hope, though they wish they had given it to him sooner. Certainly before they crushed it. 

To Whom It May Concern  G 

When Danny and Jazz finds out they are clones, they did not process that like a normal person. No, they decided that since they could magically write to them that they'd use their "bio-parents" to vent their frustrations and maybe mess with them a little bit (hey, you try and find a healthier method to finding out one day you were cloned by a pair of mad scientist who decided to raise you). Danny figured he could rant and rave without freaking anyone out. Jazz thought it be a good way air out grievances and bitterness at a audience that wouldn't care. Two birds with one stone if you will. Unfortunately most of the "adventures" they write about are horrifying. Cue several very concerned people desperately scrambling to find thier dumb (possibly meta and or undead) children and rescue them. 

When Heroes Fail  G 3,590 SERIES 

When Heroes fail, they try again... OR The Justice League doesn't believe Amity Park. A year later, after getting a worrying message, Batman sends Robin to check it out. 

Beauty Lays Behind The Hills  T 

Danny loses everything. He runs fast and he runs far, somehow ending up in a back alley known as Park Row, where a strange man with flowers in his hands changes his life. 

Let Me Have My Vengeance (It's The Only Salve That Saves)  G1,564 SERIES 

To summon the High King of the Dead, you must make a sacrifice of heroes blood. Unfortunately, what counts as a hero is entirely up to the Ghost King himself, requiring enterprising cultists to capture multiple heroes and test out all of them. The most controversial of these heroes is the Red Hood, Avenger and Guardian of Crime Alley. 

PHANTOM AI  G SERIES 

Batman installs an incredible new AI into the Watchtower computer. Or did he? 

The Consequences Of Lockpicking - Or: How Danny Joins The Justice League  G 3,374 SERIES 

Jason had been following the Undead Lockpicker on YouTube for years now. So when ULP uploads a video of himself picking the Watchtower's airlock, he is one of the first to find out. Shenanigans ensue 

Shadow Of A Bat  M 12,560  

Captured by the GIW, Phantom was a mere shadow of the thing (no, person, he had to remember he was a person) that he used to be. He thought he would never be freed from the bright, white lab. Then what seemed like a mass of living shadow swept into the lab and Phantom suddenly, for the first time in a very long time, felt safe. When Batman swept back out of the seemingly empty lab, he was none the wiser about the eldritch Phantom stowed away in his shadow. At least not until things started to seem just slightly off. 

Lost Boys T

It's been 3 years since Danny's little ... "accident" in the ghost portal. The first two were by far being the most active. But things have quieted down on the ghost front. But as all of his friends get closer and closer to graduating, too moving on, Danny has no idea what his next step should be. Or if there is one. He knows he cannot live under the same roof as his parents for very much longer. Jack and Maddie haven't slowed down on their war against ghosts, and are still hellbent on capturing Phantom and taking him apart molecule by molecule for study. Clockwork, as always, has a very helpful plan for the young ghost boy. Which will help him prepare, and train, for the next stage of his role within the infinite realms. A plan which he will not be sharing with Phantom. Through one of the infinite doors within the infinite realms, a whole other world awaits. One with Heroes and Villains who will help to shape the new Ghost King.

Danny Fenton, Hero Helper Extraordinaire G 6,198

Danny, forced to take a vacation in another dimension so he can actually get some rest and enjoy himself, ends up following various superheroes around to give them a hand. (Or arrows he picked up from the ground. Or snacks he made for them. Or some decent company because some of these guys could use a friend.)

Only Human T 3,226

The many times the Justice League was terrified of Danny Phantom. And the one time they see that he was just a kid.

& YOUNG JUSTICE 

Recognized  G 125,485 SERIES 

When they heard the fateful words "Recognized: Robin - B01," nothing could have prepared them for the web of secrets which would unravel as Daniel Fenton and Richard Grayson search for answers. 

Actively Recruiting Teen Supers  T 31,499 

(Whether they want to be or not) Batman has always kept an eye on the smaller known villains just in case they got the idea to take after the more public faces like Luthor or Joker. Mostly, they keep to themselves and their small town, but when one Vlad Masters (otherwise known as Vlad Plasmius) starts talking of an 'apprentice', the Dark Knight decides to get to the bottom of things. Robin decides to make friends. 

Phantom Meets The Team  G 15,943 

It's been a year since he died... Or alternatively: The one in which Danny and Dick are brothers, Danny is the ghost king and he kinda meets the team.  Ideas appreciated! 

Red  T 28,811 SERIES 

"Red is a human color, but I don't think it's a humane color."  "Then what is?"  "Blue." 

Wait A Second, You're Dead?  T 

Phantom gets recruited as a new hero on the Young Justice team and starts helping them on their missions. Danny hides his half-human identity from the team, Wally has trouble believing this whole ghost thing, and the rest of the team is trying to understand their strange new dead teammate. Why is Batman acting so suspicious about recruiting Phantom? And how will the team react once Phantom slowly starts revealing more about himself when a case about animal experimentation and ectoplasm comes up? Does this have something to do with his past scars? 

Operation I’m Totally 300  T 

Or when Danny accidentally finds himself pretending to be a 300 year old mentor, shenanigans ensue. 

Resurrected?  G 

The team is on a routine mission when Phantom gets blasted by one of the goons wielding experimental tech. Unable to keep his ghost form intact he transforms back into his human form. Causing the rest of his teammates to think the beam had somehow brought him back to life! The team starts to try to protect Danny and make sure he doesn't die again, always checking around every corner for a possible threat. How long will he last? 

Young Justice: Deathly Weapons  T SERIES 

A business agreement seems like such a small thing. In the eyes of the world, Phantom and the Fentons are long gone. But accidents aren’t always accidents and, when an unexpected face intervenes on a mission gone wrong, the Boy Wonder begins to realise that there’s more to the story. The stubborn fugitive they find isn’t the easiest lead to work with. But those powers have potential, and partnership could be an asset - so long as Robin can play his cards right. And, while he may not want to admit it, their offer might be exactly what a struggling half-ghost needs. Which turns out to be a lot less one-sided than any of them knew. As the paranormal starts coming out of the woodwork and clues begin piling up, a new recruit might just be what the Team needs too. 

Family Matters  T SERIES 

Danny and Nightwing have been working together as partners ever since they left the team. When Batman calls in a favor, they return to Gotham for a night of patrol, only to meet a mysterious figure. Who is this man, what are his goals, and most importantly, why is he so familiar? 

Charting Out Your Destiny  T SERIES 

During a fight with his archenemy, Danny finds himself in a new city. As he prepares to make his way home, he finds out just how lost he really is… 

Two Of A Kind  T 

Danny Phantom saves Bruce Wayne from a ghost, this prompts Bruce Wayne to investigate Amity Park. Shenanigans ensue. Dick and Danny learn they're long lost twins. 

The Phantom And The Knight  T 

After two years Danny Fenton finally felt like he was getting this whole superhero thing under control. So of course something had to come along and ruin everything. 

Half A Kingdom (A Whole Child)  T SERIES 

Everyone had told him that, if the keystone falls, so will the arch, and Danny was King, Throne, and Country. He was the guardian of doorways, the path between spaces—he was supposed to protect the integrity of the realms! Unfortunately, more than anything else, he was just a kid. The world has learned a handful of facts over the past month: 1. Ghosts are very real. 2. A child has been taken. 3. They want him back. 

To Curate A Ghost  G 39,463 

When Phantom escapes the GIW, he doesn’t quite know where to go or what he’s supposed to do. He barely knows who he is. So he pranks, protects and then consequently joins a young superhero team. As is the natural progression of things. Obviously. And if he starts to figure out who he is-was- along the way? Then this was probably just meant to be. 

[angeldcgs]

there came a certain point in which turning back and trying to save face would be even more damaging than continuing to push for a breakthrough, no matter how messy it became, and lana had just passed that point. if she stopped now, she'd just end up wallowing in crushing embarrassment for the whole rest of the night, and if she ended up remembering this in the morning, it'd end up bringing her that much more shame. the tension between them would be an awkward one, not a sexual one, and she may never get a chance to make a move again, so she had to make this moment count. it was risky, but if she could just get him to crack and finally fuck her, he'd see that getting what he wanted didn't have to ruin his life, and then he could feel better about fucking her again. committing the first sin was always the most difficult, and after that, it only got easier. it felt good to have a physical sensation to tie to the feeling his mental resistance gave her— the stifling tightness of his grip, his attempt to hold her in place despite her unruly attempts to shake him off, even the roughness of his calloused hands chafing against her silken skin satisfied something primal in her, that adrenaline rush of slight danger. she could only hope his fingers would leave behind faint bruises on her wrists that she'd have to cover with long sleeves until they faded, or at least make up some excuse about some creep grabbing her at the club to ease mrs. landry's suspicions. with such delicate skin as hers, it was a very real possibility, even though he was clearly trying to be gentle enough not to actually cause her any harm. he was so nice all the time... she wondered if that trait came with kids, or if he'd always been like that. "would you like me to call you something else, sir?" she made her voice as sweet and polite as she could muster, innocently batting her lashes at him. for some reason, calling him by his first name had always seemed too personal— too intimate. she herself wasn't used to being called her real name by anyone but family and friends. something about it seemed wrong, like they'd somehow seen too deep into her just by learning the name she called herself, but then again, it had taken her some time to get used to being called her work alias when she first started using it, too. once the idea had left her mouth, lana couldn't shake the thought of his broad palm coming down onto her bare ass in an attempt to make her regret her lurid behavior while only strengthening her desire to do so again, and that slight frenzy it brought out aided in her escape from his grip. "it's ok, mr. landry..." rather than pull her hand away and reprimand her like he should have, sully merely wrapped his hand around her wrist, his resolve paper thin. that was enough for her to go ahead and start stroking him properly, just barely tightening her grip before slowly dragging her fist from the base of his cock to the tip. she had to fight the urge to moan once she was able to get a proper feel for just how big he was, thick and firm and practically pulsing with the need to penetrate, her teeth instead sinking into her lower lip. his arguments weren't even some of the most compelling reasons why they shouldn't be doing any of this, and rather than sway her in his favor, she giggled as she leaned in closer to mr. landry, lips once again right beside his ear. "how old do you want me to be?" her question was punctuated by nuzzling her nose against his neck, noticing the faint lingering scent of his cologne still on his skin.

no matter how gently he tried to turn her down, lana was firmly stuck in her ways and had become dedicated to not leaving the car without getting what she wanted, no matter the cost. she was clearly confident that her advantages would be accepted, otherwise he couldn't imagine she would risk her job just to attempt fucking him. that wasn't the version of her that he thought he knew, he had been forced to quickly revaluate what parts of her were real and which had been manufactured. how long had she been wanting to do this? he'd made the informed assumption that her attempt back after the holiday party had been nothing more than a way to try and thank him for how he'd handled the situation involving his colleague but maybe that wasn't the case. had she been thinking about him like that ever since? waiting for the right moment to strike? making note of every glance he cast in her direction? she wasn't wrong in thinking that he was attracted to her or that he needed some attention after being put out to pasture by his wife, though neither were things that sully expected any sort of resolution to that lana could bring about. he was trying to be good, really trying but she was making it almost impossible. there were only so many times he could yank her hand away from him and watch it worm right back, her insistence on touching him was influenced by her intoxication, of course, but there was also a level of calculation there that felt premeditated, the alcohol and god knows what else was she'd taken that night was only helping bring about the confidence to attempt the seduction. he'd foolishly believed that if he put on the dad voice and held her with a tighter grip that he'd be able to get his point across, she'd snap out of whatever drunken haze had her acting like a nympho and they could go home and pretend like the whole thing hadn't happened. that was what he wanted, to not have to address his attraction to her any further than he'd already been made to, yet still she persisted. "stop calling me that." the respectful manner which she used to address him hadn't been something he had asked for, in fact it had been one of the first things he and his wife had noticed about lana when she first came for her interview, her politeness was not uncommon among others who they had seen but he had especially enjoyed the way her soft voice had cooed the first mr landry. it felt anything but respectful now, it was purpose reminder of his power over her, his role as her boss, an older, married man whose children she was paid to look after. maybe she did need a spanking, someone to set her over their knee and remind her who was in charge. it shouldn't have been hard to make her keep her hands to herself but he was careful not to be too rough with her as no matter how frustrated he was getting he didn't want to actually end up hurting her, however it was that hesitation to properly stand his ground that let her keep wiggling her away out. "lana, please." he pleaded as she tore herself away from his hold on her wrist and once again reached forward towards him, only this time deciding to forgo groping him over his pants and instead go straight for the real deal. the back and forth shouldn't have been as arousing as it was, especially when he truly believed that he did not want or need her help, yet as she wiggled her hand down past the waistband of his pajama pants, she was met with his cock almost fully hard, warm and heavy and throbbing in her hand. "fuck." instinctively, sully reached down to grab her wrist, though instead of pulling her hand out from his pants he simply held it, not encouraging or discouraging her, merely holding her in place. "listen, you're- you're just drunk. you don't have to do this, you're- fuck, you're so young..."

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

and if i said suguru’s relationship with weakness (’the preciousness of the weak, the ugliness of the weak’) was born out of his feelings towards his mother …

[froggy-nebula]

vriska is really funny cause when you look at the shit she actually does shes not the best at manipulating people or flarp or combat she just cant win at any of her hobbies

[sarellathesphinx]

Constantly torn between genuinely loving the remake timeline’s depiction of Reeve and Cait and being immensely sad that pretty much all of my favorite lines of theirs from the original were totally excised or bc of plot developments will never be said

[ajxrn-archive]

I’m going to. rip my fucking hair out.

[boomerang109]

i came home, panicked about one thing, and my toilet was leaking. bathroom floor is covered in water and brown particles. oddly, this has not improved my mood

[medicinemane]

And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"

I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse

And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa

And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house

I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished

...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)

And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff

There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government

No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)

Like have some accountability there and in every situation

Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free

If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off

I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)

But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced

Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around

I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)

...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change

(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)

(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)

[heyitslapis]

Ok

[infizero]

god. i miss loona so fucking bad.