#my beefcake... i miss him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jockbroski34 · 6 months

Text

New Blood (Chapter 1)

This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I would’ve been surprised if you told me how my first day at my new school turned out. My dad was transferred to a different branch at the job he worked at, so we were forced to move to a different state. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss my old town, but it’s not like I was that close with most of the people I went to school with anyways. On the bright side, being transferred to a new high school gives me the chance to start fresh and make some new friends. Little did I know how right I really was.

The first day started out about as boring as you could imagine. The teachers reciting the syllabus, introducing ourselves to the class, the usual mundane activities expected for the first day. However, all of that changed during 3th period. It was algebra, and normally I could care less. But it wasn’t the class that caught my attention, hell no. Class started as usual. The class was packed full of students, with nearly every seat taken. About 3 minutes into the class, class was interrupted by an opened door and a large figure.

He must’ve been 6’3”, making me who is 5’10" look like someone who hadn’t hit his growth spurt in comparison. His brunette hair, short and spiked with the sides shaved, helped to accentuate his angular face and his alluring emerald green eyes. He wore a football shirt that fit snugly against his chest and his bulky biceps bulged out of the sleeves. His thick thighs made his jeans a tight fit. They could definitely crush a watermelon. Perhaps even my face, I thought, as I admired the handsome man.

“Sorry I was late, bro. Just got out late from my meeting with Coach”, the stud said, in a nonchalant, baritone voice. He sounded like your stereotypical jock.

“Don’t make this a regular thing, ‘bro’” our teacher grumbled. “I know you’re the team captain, but it doesn’t mean you can just barge in while I’m teaching.”

“Relax, dude. It’s just a one time thing.” he responded. Looks like he’s the big man on campus. He sure didn’t seem to care that he was late on the first day of school.

The giant scanned the room looking for a place to sit. First the right end of the room, then the middle, and then he looked towards the left, where I sat, and conveniently at the empty desk adjacent to me. For a split second, our eyes were staring right at each other, but my gaze veered the other direction out of embarrassment. The jock’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to walk into the rows of desks, accidentally bumping me with his massive size 15 foot.

“Sorry bro”, he said as he placed himself in the seat next to me. His nice round ass stood out to me as he made himself comfortable.

The class continued on as normal, but for some reason, I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could before. The beefcake next to me kept my mind preoccupied. He was the most attractive guy I’ve seen so far at this school, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by his perfect body. His toned body glistened, likely from the sweat of a morning jog, and I noticed a slight scent that affirmed that. I normally found the smell of sweat to be a little disgusting, but for him, it seemed to mix well with his natural aroma. The scent of a man.

“No. If a guy like him finds out that you’re gay, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I scolded myself in my head. I could already imagine myself being harassed by him and his meathead friends.

Strangely enough, just as I had been looking at him, I also felt like I was being watched as well. I must have been imagining things. I wouldn’t call myself unattractive, but I never caught the attention of other guys…let alone girls.

The teacher finished up with the material sooner than expected, so he stopped teaching for the rest of class until the bell rang. With about 10 minutes to spare before my next class, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to kill time, but then I heard that same voice from before.

“Sup bro,” the hunk next to me greeted me. “I’ve never seen you before. You new here?”

This guy was talking to me. Wait, why was he talking to me? I was incredibly caught off guard, but I decided to play it cool and hide my embarrassment.

“Yeah, my name’s Jacob. My parents just moved into town the other week and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that sucks, but I hope you like it here. Nice to meet you Jacob. I’m Zach. You mind if I call you Jake for short?”

Most people called me by Jacob and I preferred it like that, but for him, I didn’t really mind.

“Sure, nice to meet you too,” I responded. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but my hand felt small engulfed in his meaty palms.

We spent the remaining time in class getting to know each other. The more I talked with Zach, the more I realized how we were basically complete opposites. He was as I expected, a stereotypical jock, only interested in sports and going to the gym and I was anything but that. I could tell through his attitude that he was full of confidence, maybe even bordering on arrogance, but he still seemed rather agreeable. Despite our obvious differences, we actually got along surprisingly well. I expected him to be some brute, some bully, but he was actually a pretty fun, chill guy. He actually gave me his number too. The bell rang and we both packed up our supplies into our backpacks.

“Hey man, so where’s your next class?” Zach asked.

“Room 214. Must be on the second floor,” I replied.

“Oh cool. I’m actually headed that way too. Don’t worry, I know this school like the back of my hand!”

We walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway.

“Hey, so lunch is coming up and I don’t know if you have anywhere to sit yet,” Zach inquired.

I had completely forgotten about lunch. At my old school, it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit by myself. I was the kind of guy who didn’t really mesh well with any crowd and I had few close friends.

“I don’t, why?” I responded.

“I just figured that because you’re new, you might want somewhere to sit. You can come sit with us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the guys on the team are cool. I doubt they’d mind since you know me.” I imagined myself feeling out of place amongst the burly football jocks. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I might take you up on that offer,” I replied.

“Great, bro!” Zach smiled. His bright grin was contagious, and I felt a smile on my face as well. “I hope to see you there.” He patted me on the shoulder with his firm hands before we parted ways. Our classrooms, however, were conveniently right next to each other.

I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could during 3rd period. Thoughts of early US history blurred in my mind as the image of Zach lingered. Why was he being so nice to me of all people? Despite my curiosity, I started to think of him as a friend. For some reason, I felt myself drawn to him.

After an eternity, the bell rang for lunch, and I walked to the cafeteria. I got lost on the way there, as I was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building. As I walked past each table, I felt the impression that I was an outsider. Most tables were full of students, with few seats left open for me. It was like everyone else already knew each other, and that there was no place for me. Until I heard that voice again.

“Yo, Jake!” Zach shouted, his words breaking through the endless sea of mindless chatter. I turned my head to the right and saw him and several other members of the football team at a large table. How did I miss it? It’s a big table for big guys. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Sorry about that, bro. Come sit down!” He moved over, giving me room to squeeze in. He introduced me to the team, and it seems like he already told them about me, so they were eager to meet me. I recognized one person from my previous class.

“You’re…Bradley right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but call me Brad. No one except my brother calls me that anymore.” he answered. He wasn’t as tall as Zach, standing at a respectable and exact 6 feet tall. He was, however, a lot bulkier than Zach, who was more toned in comparison, but he wasn’t fat. His hair was shaved into a short blonde buzzcut and he had deep blue eyes. I recalled him falling asleep for a bit during last class. The bro must not have gotten enough sleep last night.

Zach, Brad, and the other guys talked about sports and working out after class, and other stuff that a stereotypical jock would talk about. I did my best to include myself in the conversation, but I felt kinda lost keeping up and I felt like a bit of a poser compared to them. I knew only basic level sports knowledge and I had never lifted a weight in my life. If only I was more like them.

Despite that, I actually got along with them better than I expected, and I was glad to know that they were more like Zach than I had anticipated. They did make fun of me for not knowing certain players or who won the game last night. However, I didn’t get the impression that it was malicious, but rather more playful, like how one would joke around with his bros. Even though I clearly looked and felt out of place, I found myself enjoying their company and I tried to absorb whatever knowledge the jocks discussed like a sponge. What felt like an entire day of hanging with the bros was only half an hour as the bell rang and the crowd of students emptied the cafeteria to depart for their next class. I said my farewells to Zach’s friends and made my way to my next class. Zach, instead of staying with his fellow teammates, pursued me and joined me, walking at my side.

“Hey, thanks for sitting with us, bro. I told you they’d like you.”

“Of course…” I replied, unsure of what to say, but I smiled. “I did feel like a fish out of water, but I did have a good time.”

“No worries, bro. I kinda figured you would feel out of place, but you did great. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Zach smirked. “You just gotta get out of your comfort zone, man.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I was surprised at Zach’s different perspective. “Maybe I could be as strong as the rest of you are and throw balls around someday,” I joked, as the idea of me being like one of them felt unrealistic to me.

Zach chuckled and gave me a wink. “Who knows? Life is full of surprises. Anyways, my class is this way, but I think we have the same class next period. Later, bro!”

The rest of the day went by quick, and was relatively uneventful. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, school was over, and I could finally go home. I thrusted myself into my bed, overwhelmed by my first day of school., but for once, I was actually kinda happy to be there. I met Zach, Brad, and a bunch of other guys on my very first day. Zach specifically lingered in my mind, and I recollected every inch of his body in my mind. I started to get hard picturing every exquisite detail, and I couldn’t help but bust my load to him. Eventually day turned to evening and evening turned to night, and I closed my eyes, wondering what the rest of the year had in store for me.

The next two weeks came and went and I became accustomed to the new school and my new friends. I went to class, ate with the football team at lunch, and I even started to hang out with Zach more. He offered to help me with the gym if I helped him with some of his schoolwork. I agreed obviously, as I wouldn’t mind building some muscle. It was always good to help a bro out and also I just wanted to be closer to him. As I helped him with math and science, he helped me with lifting weights and exercises. I struggled at first, but eventually I started to notice some improvements and I could tell he was proud.

Whenever we finished studying or working out, we spent the rest of the night watching sports or playing video games. Zach had to explain the rules to me, but I started to understand football on a surface level. Other than that, I got invited to a party at Brad’s place, and I had a great time partying and drinking with Zach and the football team. During those weeks, I was probably the happiest and most social I have ever been in my life.

The following week was when everything changed. One day before lunch, I was approached by someone who I have never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, standing at a modest 5’8”. He looked babyfaced with his nerdy, boyish looks and blonde hair, and his glasses helped to emphasize his meek blue eyes. I think he was a year below me.

“My name is Braden.” He said. “You’re the new kid who’s friends with Zach, right?”

“Yeah I am. My name’s Jake…I mean Jacob.” I responded. For a second, I found myself using the name Zach and the other jocks called me.

“I think you should stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

“What’s wrong with Zach?” I asked. Zach had been nothing but good to me since we met. I couldn’t imagine him having any malicious intent. He even took care of me at the party when I was black-out drunk for the first time.

“Ever since my brother started hanging out with him, he started acting… weird. He was never into football or anything, but now he’s on the team and he looks and acts like a completely different person.”

“I…What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused about what he meant.

“I’m serious! Unless you want to end up like just another jock…”

“Hey, Jake! How’s it going?” Zach cut in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that we were talking about him. “And you’re Brad’s brother, right?” Braden avoided eye contact with his brother’s friend.

I felt a sense of urgency, as I felt like I was going to be late. “I’ve gotta get to lunch. It was nice meeting you, Braden!” I said as me and Zach walked to lunch together. What the hell was his deal anyways?

“Braden’s a weird dude. Don’t worry about what he says,” Zach informed me, trying to ease the mood.

Later that week, I was hanging out at Zach’s place again after a workout, helping him with the algebra quiz that was next class. I helped him understand the concepts better and we wrapped up reviewing the study guide, so we finished and we laid down on his bed.

“Hey man, I’ve been thinking…” Zach started, but he sounded rather hesitant, unlike his usual confident self. “What would you think about joining the football team?”

“I…” I was honestly kinda surprised. Why would he want me, of all people, to join? I wasn’t unathletic, but even working out with him would not have prepared me to play football. “I’m flattered you would want me, but I don’t think I have what it takes. Plus, I’m not like you guys at all,” I answered.

“That’s fine, bro. Me and Coach can help condition you to become the jock I know you want to be.”

“Condition?” I was confused, unsure about what he meant by that.

“I know how much you want to be like us, bro,” For some reason, the word bro sent shivers down my spine. He had a devious look on his face. “And I can see your potential. That’s why I chose you. It helped that you’re the new kid anyways so no one will notice if you turned into another jock. I made that mistake with Brad and now that kid Braden won’t leave me alone.”

Zach paused, realizing that he said too much, but at this point, there was no going back. Despite his malicious intent, I got hard at the thought of being one of them, of being one with the team. My friends were always there for me the past few weeks and we had a strong bond despite our differences. I looked up to them, and wished I was more like them.

“That’s not the only reason I chose you…” Zach rolled over, climbing on top of me, his heavy, muscular body pinning me down, his legs straddled between mine, his sweat from the workout from earlier spreading through my nostrils. “I knew you were gay. I could just tell. But that’s okay, because so am I. You’re cute enough as you are now, but I think you would look better standing side-by-side with me, looking, thinking, and acting like me. Don’t you agree?”

I was overwhelmed by the situation, and by Zach’s sudden change in behavior. But I subconsciously nodded as my cock throbbed in my pants. Whether my mind or my dick was thinking first, I could not tell you.

“If you join the team, I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine. How does that sound, bro?”

I tried to weigh my options. I thought about the kind of person I was. Who was I before I came here? Before I met Zach? I…I was nobody. I didn’t have any friends here. Zach took me in. My mind was fixated on the man in front of me. I realized I longed for him. I longed for the team and my bros. I longed for football. I longed for working out. And that’s when everything became clear. I longed to become a jock like him.

“That sounds awesome, bro,” I answered. Bro? I never said bro before. I guess Zach was really starting to rub off on me. I gave into temptation, but I knew that it was what I secretly desired ever since I met him.

“That’s a good bro…” Zach responded, obviously pleased with my answer. A seductive smirk lit up his face as he pressed his lips to mine. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like several lifetimes, but in reality it was actually only a few minutes of sweet passion. At this point, I felt like my cock was about to burst. At this point, I desired him. Zach noticed the raging bulge in my pants. “I know you wanna fuck, but I can’t give you what you want just yet. You will meet me in Coach’s office after class tomorrow. After we finish your transformation, then you can cum.”

“Yes, bro…” I muttered, keeping my erection under control. The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal between us, almost like the erotic scene that had just taken place was something out of a fever dream or a hallucination. We played some video games to kill time and to lighten the mood. The only reason I knew it was real was because of the firm erection that lingered in my pants. Eventually I said goodbye to Zach and went home.

“Remember to meet me after school. And just remember, you can still back out if you want…but I have a feeling you won’t,” Zach sneered, looking down at my pulsating serpent. Despite his words, however, I knew that my mind had already crossed the point of no return.

The next day was unbearable. The anticipation of what awaited me after this long day was killing me. What made it worse were the classes where I had Zach. He could tell that I was finding it hard to focus, and it felt like he was edging me with his mind. I could barely concentrate on the algebra quiz we studied for the night prior. I could only think about joining the football team and I imagined what it would be like to be a jock. I’d be big and strong, sexy, athletic. I would fit right in with all my bros. Working out together, practicing together, winning and celebrating together.

During lunch, Zach announced that I would be joining the team, and the group of football jocks cheered and welcomed me to the team. One of them said it was only a matter of time until I decided to join, and I couldn’t really deny it. I looked at each member of the team, and I wondered how I would look compared to them. For a second, I remembered Braden’s words, but I quickly shrugged them off. He made it seem like my transformation would be a bad thing, but a nerd like him could never understand. This is what I desired. This was what I was destined for. And I kept those words in my head, as the clock turned to the end of the school day.

As soon as the final bell rang, I immediately rushed over to the locker room. I saw Zach in his white and red football uniform, missing only his helmet, and, having never seen him in this outfit before, I thought he looked perfect in it. And soon, so would I.

“You’re here early, bro,” he said. “You’re even more eager than I expected. Coach isn’t here yet, but I can explain the details to you.”

He led me towards the back, where he pulled out several pieces of clothing that would become synonymous with my new identity. A jersey already stitched with my name on it, tight compression pants and a compression shirt, football cleats, shoulder pads, a jockstrap, and a sturdy helmet that would adorn my head like a king would wear his crown.

“Put it on.”

I complied. I was a little disappointed at first, as the clothing looked at least a size above what I would normally wear. “No worries, you’ll grow into them quick, trust me.”

As I put on my new uniform, I started to become curious. What was this all about? So I asked him, “What’s the point of all of this anyways?”

“I guess there’s no reason to hide it anymore,” he responded. “To be honest, I was kinda like you once. I wasn’t really athletic like I am now, but my dad was actually a professional football player. He was forced to retire early due to a bad injury, but despite that, I wanted to do what he couldn’t. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be the player I wanted to be. That all changed when Coach learned of my struggles and we worked together to make me into the football jock I had always dreamed of. Eventually, after about a year of testing, we found a way and that’s how I became who I am now. For once, I was strong, athletic, and confident, and it never felt forced or fake. Like this was who I really was all my life. Since then, similar studies were done at different high schools and colleges across the US. You wouldn’t know about any of that, because it’s all behind closed doors. Eventually, I found you and I realized that you were probably just as lost as I was, so I kinda took advantage of that. Sorry, I guess I’m not the kind of guy you thought I was.”

I had no idea that’s how Zach truly felt. I sympathized with him despite him hiding so much from me. We came from different backgrounds, but we both wanted the same thing. To be better, and to be stronger. Even after he poured his heart out to me and told me the truth, he was still Zach to me. I cared for him and he cared for me. He opened my eyes to a new world full of different possibilities. And so, I pushed my lips into his and our tongues wrestled for dominance. We were stopped by footsteps approaching. We returned to normal as Coach walked into the room, oblivious to the fact that we were making out seconds prior outside of our rosy cheeks.

“So you’re the kid Zach’s been talking about. I’m Coach Myers.” the man said. “I’m guessing he told you everything. Do you have any questions before we get started?”

“No sir,” I answered.

“In that case, let’s go into my office.” I obliged eagerly. There’s no going back. “Have a seat, sign these forms, and put these on.” They were earbuds. I signed my name on every form, formally granting my consent to join the team, and likely whatever changes would occur to me. In front of me was an old TV with a VCR. “You will watch and listen to this video for the full duration. You will notice some changes and you might feel a little uncomfortable. All you have to do is relax and focus on the video.” I did as he said. I sat down in my new football uniform, and I put the earbuds in both ears, and then finally put my helmet onto my head. With everything prepared, Zach turned off the lights, and the TV turned on, playing a video.

With the helmet over my head, my peripheral vision was restricted. I had little choice but to look at what was directly in front of me. My eyes became fixated on the screen in front of me as they became entranced by the flowing spiral. As I fell deeper into a trance, I felt as though my mind and body were on the opposite ends of the world. The audio was hard to make out, but somehow I felt like I understood it, at least subconsciously.

After a period of time that my mind couldn’t possibly comprehend, the imagery began to change. I started to make out clips of football players, playing football, being part of a team, throwing and catching the ball, tackling my opponents, strategies and plays. I learned the proper workouts and techniques and exercises that a football player would do. What at one time felt foreign to me felt like common knowledge, like I had done this my entire life. It was muscle memory, no pun intended.

It was at this moment that my body started to change. No. Change isn’t the right word. Evolve. I noticed my average-sized arms start to bulge, my biceps and triceps inflating like they were being pumped. Next, my shoulders expanded and became more sturdy, making my shoulder pads fit a little better. Then, my chest pumped out, my pecs eager to fill the empty space in my oversized jersey along with my new six-pack. Following that, my legs thickened until they felt tight in my compression pants, and my ass inflated like a balloon into a nice, round bubble butt. Below that, my feet grew longer and more wide, filling the size 15 shoes that my formerly size 11 feet would have had trouble walking around in. My penis, still erect, grew from an average 5 inches to an impressive 8 inches, feeling more and more aroused by the increasing stimulation and the surplus of testosterone flowing through my body. Finally, I felt my blonde medium length hair thin and become more like my teammates with shaved sides and a short top. Any chubbiness in my face disappeared as my facial features sharpened, especially my jawline and my chin, giving myself a more masculine look.

While all of this was happening, my mind was swirling and every part of me was being drained or replaced. I found that I was losing interest in most of my old hobbies, but the idea of playing and watching sports, working out, partying, having sex, and hanging out with the bros felt so much more enticing and appealing than it did before. I started to realize that I didn’t really care much about school or learning anymore, and that playing sports was the only real reason why I came to school. I was never the best student, but I always did my best. However, I realized that none of that mattered as long as I kept good enough grades to stay on the team. C’s get degrees, am I right? At worst, I could always bribe one of the smarter kids to do my homework for me.

Then, my mindset began to change. Before, I was introverted, polite, and humble. But now? I was outgoing, confident, and cocky, and I started to love the idea of that. It started to become unbelievable that I was ever not like this. I was always like this. As the changes in my mind were taking effect, I felt part of me overwhelmed by all the changes and trying to resist, but that stray thought was snuffed out like a candle, as the rest of my thoughts were drained from my mind. Any part of my former self’s mind was absorbed into my balls, which were swollen to the size of grapefruit at this point. As the changes in my body and mind reached its climax, so did my aching cock. As the video concluded, the words became more clear, and I could make out one phrase repeating over and over.

“You are a jock.”

It was at this point that I could finally release all my pent-up frustration from the past 24 hours. It was the best orgasm of my life. And just like that, load after load of my burning, sticky cum flooded my jockstrap, and with it, the memories of the old me were released from my body.

“Looks like someone made a mess,” Zach teased. “No worries, bro. It happens. How do you feel?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. This time it felt different though, because I truly felt like one of the bros.

Jacob was gone. Jake took his place. I’m Jake, Jake the jock. My memories felt distorted but they were starting to become clear. I grew up always with a ball in my hand. I was naturally talented in any sport I played, but I gravitated towards football. I played it at my old school and I was among the best on the team. However, my dad got a new job and we were forced to move here. Thankfully, we were fortunate to live near a school with a gifted football program. I became friends with Zach and the football team, and naturally, I signed up for the team. And Zach? He was not just my bro or my best friend. He eventually became my boyfriend and the rest of the team supported our relationship. All of this felt so real to me, and a cocky smirk appeared on my unfamiliar face.

“Bro…I feel awesome,” I responded, my new, deeper voice matching both my new physique and personality. I looked down at my new body. It was like I hit puberty for the second time. I stood up, realizing that I was now several inches taller, now standing at a solid 6’2”. I was almost as tall as Zach, and I didn’t have to look up at him now. I felt like we were finally equals in terms of body and status.

“I told you you’d look amazing, bro,” he said as he gave me a peck on the cheek. “You should clean yourself up and get ready for practice. The other guys will never let it go if you come to your first practice with cum staining your uniform. Oh, and thanks Coach. Glad you could help both of us out.”

“Always glad to help out my star player,” Coach chuckled. “As for you, I think you turned out better than any of them yet. You might even give Zach a run for his money.” I felt a sense of pride being compared to him.

I quickly left Coach’s office and cleaned myself off. I changed into clothes that Zach lent me that would fit my new body better, and ran off to practice. Before that though, I stared at myself in the mirror so I could get my first glimpse of the new me. The person in front of me was completely unrecognizable to me, but I quickly grew comfortable with the jock in the mirror and I smiled at the person I had become. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flexing hunk that stood before me.

Time passed and my new life became more and more normal to me. I would go to school, hang out with the football team, go to practice, work out, and then hang out with Zach. It became a natural routine to me, and I was never happier. My grades dropped a bit because I was focused on football. It’s not that I can’t care about learning. I just don’t want to. Coach says it’s alright as long as I pass my classes.

For the first time, I felt a true sense of camaraderie with a group of guys, and especially Zach. It felt like we were joined at the hip. We were a pair both on the field and off it. We’re currently undefeated this year and I think we might even reach regionals.

Most of my classmates and peers barely noticed my changes since I was already new and to them, I blended in as yet another stereotypical football jock. The only people with an immediate reaction were my parents. They were a little surprised by my sudden changes, but they were supportive of my new passion for football and they were glad to see me making friends and staying active. I did remember one person who definitely would mind my changes.

Braden.

A week or so after my transformation, he walked up to me, obviously disappointed, with a look of shame on his face, and told me that I should’ve listened to him. I brushed aside his comments. He called me a dumb jock. I told him I was happier this way, but he refused to believe me. He wouldn’t accept it. He said that he was going to expose the football team somehow, and change everyone who was affected back, including me and Brad. He stormed off, hoping to find some way to expose us.

I didn’t show it on my face, but in my mind I was furious. I genuinely didn’t want to turn back and I didn’t want the football team to be suspended or shut down. I thought about Zach, about his dreams, and about mine. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to live out our dreams together of being the best football jocks ever. I couldn’t let Braden figure out the truth. I have to stop him. I started to brainstorm ideas on how to keep him quiet.

A devious idea entered my mind. He wouldn’t want to snitch on us if we turned him into a jock first. He was obviously a little envious of me, of Zach, even his big brother. I’m sure he would grow to appreciate the idea if he just accepted it. Besides, I’m sure he would make a sexy football jock with his looks already. The idea of turning someone into a jock, corrupting them, awakening their true desires became so appealing to me, just like Zach had did for me. He’ll understand one day.

713 notes · View notes

esamastation · 9 months

Text

Shizuroth, part ten.

(previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine)

So much for his day off! Well, maybe expecting to get a day off so soon into a new transmigration was a bit of a big ask, but still - he'd been geared up for a day on the couch, catching up with his emails and reading through the whole tutorial section on his phone!

Which, it turns out, was actually useful once you got past the glaringly obvious and downright condescending parts. It actually explained to him where to pick up the orders he'd been making - and he'd learned a whole bunch about the SOLDIER program and the Wutai war and stuff like Materia. Very useful, and he was only halfway through it - he'd gotten distracted by the mailing lists, which were actually really interesting! Very informative in the terms of lore!

There was so much to catch up on, and he'd been looking forward to a whole day of reading and meditating, now that the Feng Shui wasn't quite so rancid. If he'd known he'd end up having guests, he would've put on some actual clothes too!

Ugh, he would really miss the convenience of having disciples. Having a barrier between himself and guests let him make himself presentable, whenever his me-time got distributed. Never mind he could just tell them, no, this master isn't accepting visitors at this time, and they'd politely sent them away without him having to do anything! So useful!

And now he's here, inhabiting a Big Bad - reduced to making his own tea and everything.

"What are you doing?" Genesis asks, watching him dubiously.

Isn't it obvious? "I am making tea," as you should be able to tell, from the tea pot!

His guests share a pointed look, and he suppresses the urge to roll Sephiroth's eyes. Like he can't see them.

"Here, let me help you with that -" the big beefy one, Angeal, begins to say, only to stop at his scoff.

"If your tea making abilities are on par with Genesis, no thank you," he says in a tone that probably has too much Qing Jing Peak Lord and not enough One-Winged Angel in it. "I got it."

"What's wrong with my tea making?" Genesis asks. "It's tea. You dunk it in hot water until it becomes brown, and then you drink it."

Genesis-bro, you're lucky it's not Shen Jiu you're facing - you'd be wearing the tea. "Hm," the version of Shen Qingqiu that is there answers wryly and pours the first cup into the sink before carrying the pot and cups to the kitchen table.

Note to self - trays, he needs at least one tea tray.

There's an awkward, confused silence as he serves the tea. "Apologies for the lack of snacks," he says and adds, pointedly, "I wasn't expecting company."

"You never are," Genesis mutters, giving his teacup an aggravated look.

"Thank you, Sephiroth," Angeal says and accepts the cup. It looks tiny in his hands, and he doesn't seem to know what to do with it. "Is this… a Wutai practice?"

Hell if he knows, though seeing as Wutai was a sort of mishmash of Chinese and Japanese aesthetic, they probably had some kind of tea culture.

"Perhaps," he says and sips his tea. "So, what can I do for you two?"

Another look shared between them. They sip their tea and then look insultingly surprised when it's not awful.

"...I heard about what happened in the labs," Angeal says, turning the cup in his hand. "Genesis told me. Are you… alright?"

Well, his core is still a puddle of cement, and by his estimation it will be weeks of cultivation before he can work on something useful. He's stuck in the body of another villain doomed to die - and resurrect, and die, and resurrect, and die… but at least it comes with a built-in excuse for inconvenient amnesia plots! This world still doesn't have the internet - but it has fast food and online shopping! He still has a wallet full of hefty, big numbers! And, one can't forget, he's an incredibly hot beefcake of a man, strongest in the setting… at least until Cloud Strife would come along!

Compared to Shen Qingqiu, Sephiroth doesn't have much to complain about. At least he doesn't have to look forward to being torn limb from limb and tortured to slow and agonising death!

He thinks briefly of Binghe and then shakes his head.

"I'm fine," he says.

Another shared, pointed, knowing look.

"You know that's not going to cut it, right?" Genesis says, setting his cup down. "Have you figured out how much you've forgotten?"

Everything and nothing. Once more.

Awkward.

"Sephiroth," Angeal says, looking at him seriously. "We're here to help you. Please, trust us - it's our duty, as your friends, to help you."

The man looks and sounds a lot like Yue Qingyuan in that moment. Sans the guilt and indulgence, but the vibes are very familiar. And, like with Yue Qingyuan, they kind of rub him the wrong way.

"Pretty sure friendship isn't supposed to be based on duty," he says, giving the man a look.

"Well, it's quicker and easier to say - and a little less likely to give you hives than the actual truth," Angeal points out.

"... Which is?"

Angeal dons on a very serious and very sincere expression. "Sephiroth," he says. "You're our friend, we're your friends, and we care about you. We're worried about you. Please believe us, we're here for you."

He instantly recoils away from that utter anime bullshit, and then glares as Genesis laughs at him. It's just so - ugh! "Next you will be telling me with the power of friendship I will regain my lost self," Sephiroth mutters. "Or that the first step to healing is accepting I have a problem. What is this, a damn intervention?" Oh, shit, maybe this is the Kingdom Hearts version after all!

"Goddess, don't give him ideas!" Genesis snorts. "His lectures are bad enough already!"

Angeal looks a little relieved, for some reason, and leans back. "And so my point is made," he says, satisfied, and folds his arms. "And my question still stands. Are you, really, alright?"

Ugh. "I feel fine."

"But are you? Are you fit for duty? If they send you to Wutai, will you be alright?"

Oh. Oh, that would be convenient, if he could use this whole thing as an excuse not to go! "If I say no, they won't send me to Wutai?"

Angeal frowns, hesitant.

"Oh, they'll still send you. But maybe not alone," Genesis says. "Probably one of us, or a bunch of Seconds, will be sent as your backup. But we'll still need to know what we might be covering you for."

He's not sure what that means, and it must show on his face, because Angeal explains. "If you, for example, have forgotten certain protocols… whoever goes in as your second will need to know when to step in."

Oh. "That seems…" he's not actually sure. Kinda bad? "If I don't know the protocols, then I shouldn't go, surely?"

"Oh, to see the day when reason and logic will find footing in Shinra military," Genesis sighs and shakes his head. "You could've had your brain completely fried, and they'll still send you, so long as you can still fight. Hell, they'll send you just to look pretty, even if you can't!"

… well, great, that's just great.

Angeal looks worried. "Can you still fight?"

Fight? Yes, probably. Fight like Sephiroth? Hmm…

He looks at the sword in the stand, now placed strategically so that it directs the room's energy properly. It has at least half a metre on Xiu Ya, and it's curved besides. And, obviously, it's not a spiritual sword.

"Perhaps we should find out," Genesis suggests, a gleam in his eyes. "Right. Who's up for sneaking into the company training room?

SY of the Wife Beam: oh no, Anime Friendship Speeches, this is so unrealistic.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7 #Svsss #Shen Qingqiu #Shen Yuan #Sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley

332 notes · View notes

epicbuddieficrecs · 27 days

Text

Weekly Recap | May 27th-June 2nd 2024

That finale sure was... something.... Can't wait for all the fix-it fics we're gonna get over the summer!!

Complete

the same damn thing that made my heart surrender by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Crack, Getting Together | 1,5K | Teen): “Ever since that barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s last weekend I’ve been getting the weirdest targeted ads on my Insta,” he pouts, scrolling some more. On the screen is an ad for… a pale blue babydoll tee with the word BRAT screenprinted across the chest in curly pink letters. or, buck’s instagram algorithm is plaguing him with salacious clothing ads and eddie can’t be held responsible for playing Beefcake Barbie dress-up in his head about it

seeing you with him just don't feel right (you're giving me a heart attack) by bellabrady (Post-S7, Crack | 1,9K | Not Rated): Or: Buck and Eddie accidentally give their homophobic captain a heart attack.

stained by my mistakes by Tizniz/@tizniz (BTHB: Accidental Murder | 2K | General): Like an overslept mistake or killed a dude mistake? Under any other circumstances, Eddie would probably laugh at his best friend’s reply. But he’s not laughing. Not right now. He swallows the lump in his throat and stumbles over his reply. …the second option.

Everything you lose is a step you take by justhockey (Getting Together, Post-Lightning | 2K | General): For a while, when Buck would find himself about to float - about to slip into that space where he couldn’t believe he was still here, still breathing - he would need something to keep him steady. To keep both feet firmly planted on the ground. That’s how all of it started. Because it had been instinct, like it always has been with them, for Buck to reach for Eddie that very first time he felt like he was floating. And Eddie, like he always does, reached back. Through fire and trauma, under fire trucks, across blood-soaked asphalt - Buck and Eddie always reach for each other. It’s what they do. It’s who they are. They reach, and hold on, and they pull each other to safety.

that's the way love goes by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (BuckTommy Break-up, Buddie Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Tommy thinks Buck and Eddie used to date and never really got over each other... he is very tired and confused. But it makes some feeling realizations come to light and a pair of idiots to see what they've been missing all along, so it's all good.

Sweet as Sugar by Tizniz/ @tizniz (BTHB: Chronic Illness | 8K | General): “There’s still something wrong with me.” “I don’t like that phrasing, but your labs did come back positive for something, yes.” Buck swallows, rubs his hands down his thighs, “Okay. What?” “Evan, you’re diabetic.”

What’s Your Order? by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S7E5, BuckTommy | 18K | Teen): 5 Times Buck Guessed Tommy’s Coffee Order + 1 Time He Didn’t Have To

🔥 a place we both know by not1_2write (A/B/O AU, Not A Firefighter!Buck | 42K | Mature): This whole thing is Bobby's fault. He's the one that suggested Eddie apply for the mate matching service, it was his idea to look for an Omega that would love and care for Christopher, to find a mate to be by Eddie's side. Eddie's gonna have to send him a fruit basket or something. It was the greatest idea Bobby's ever had and because of it they now they have Buck in their lives, in their pack and firmly nestled right in Eddie's heart.

WIP

🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 7/10 | 55K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?

🔥 like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Fix-It | 2/7 | 6K | Mature): If you’d asked Eddie back in May what rock bottom looked like, it was his son leaving him. That felt like it; everything ruined so entirely that there was no way to ruin it further. There’s always more to lose.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 128/? | 401K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 3/22 | 14K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

Podfic

🔥 [Podfic] Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Cowboy AU, Reincarnation, Soulmates | 10-15h | Explicit): In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #epic buddie fic rec

81 notes · View notes

the-iceni-bitch · 1 year

Text

She’s Many Places

Relationship: amazon!lawyer Natasha Romanov x petite!curvy fem reader (Big Red and Peach, NLLYL AU)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Summary: You love when Nat comes home.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (titty worship, petting, teasing, f/f sex, mentions of f receiving oral sex), good natured teasing about sugar mommy/baby relationship even though that’s not what they have, so much fluff, age gap relationship, an offended kitten, SMUT! 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Some sapphic fluff for pride (yes I know it’s not still Pride, but that’s a technicality) and oh my god I love these two. They’re so sweet together and playful and they give me the heart eyes 😍

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Natasha hummed to herself as she shook the rain off her umbrella, grabbing the mail out of the box and taking one last look at the gray sky before walking into the brownstone.

“Baby?” She took off her coat and kicked off her pumps, unpinning her hair as she moved down the hall while Gus wound between her legs. “Peach, are you here?”

“I’m in the living room!” You beamed at her over the top of your book. “Is it still raining?”

“Yeah, it’s gloomy.” She scooped up the kitten and sank next to you on the couch, kissing your cheek before resting her head on your lap. “And work was long. How do you feel about ordering in?”

“I feel fantastic about it.” You ran your fingers through her hair while she pulled out her phone to order something. “I want pasta.”

“Pasta?” She kissed your fingers after you poked her nose affectionately. “We can do pasta. With garlic bread. Split a tiramisu?”

“Mmhm.”

These soft domestic moments were everything with Nat. It was like every moment the two of you spent together just being close made you fall in love with each other even more. Saturdays at the farmers market always left you smiling when she would buy you flowers and you would share fresh blueberry scones. Sunday mornings in bed together where you made her pancakes and the two of you ate in bed and did the crossword while the kitten napped in a sunbeam would set her heart fluttering. And every time it got rainy and gloomy outside when the two of you would just cuddle were perfect.

“Hey peach?” Nat beamed up at you when you peeked down at her, turning and wrapping her arms around you so she could nuzzle into your stomach. “I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, Nat.” You giggled when she kissed your tummy, trying not to squirm when she pinched your side and tickled you a little. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, wait a minute.” She scoffed when she pulled the blanket aside and saw what you were wearing, sitting up and pulling you into her lap while you squealed. “This is my sweatshirt!”

“It’s so comfy!” You laughed when she growled playfully and bit your neck, wiggling in her arms and gasping when she gave you a hickey. “Natasha!”

“What? It’s not like you have to go to the office.” She kissed the mark before pulling the collar of her sweatshirt aside to make another on your collarbone. “Bucky and his beefcake say hi, by the way.”

“My boys! I do miss them.” You tried to stay focused when she started kneading your ass but it wasn’t working. “I am enjoying my life as a sugar baby though.”

“Of course you are.” Nat purred when she edged her fingers under the edge of her sweatshirt and found you were only wearing panties. “Don’t even have to wear your own clothes, get to cuddle the kitten all day, and your pretty little pussy gets all the attention it deserves.”

“Wait, let me mark my page!” You screamed and laughed when she flung you down on the couch and climbed on top of you, your face heating up while the kitten ran off after screaming at the two of you for disturbing him. “Sorry Gus!”

“Gus will be fine.” Natasha grinned as she straddled your hips, her pencil skirt rising up her thighs until you could see the tops of her stockings while she tapped her finger against her plump bottom lip. God, she was hot, you still couldn’t believe she was in love with you sometimes. “Now, the food isn’t going to be here for twenty minutes, should I suck on your tits the whole time or just until your little pussy is all hot and wet then eat you out until you scream for me?”

“Well, I’m already wet.” You bit your lip and arched your back so the sweatshirt started to ride up your tummy, gasping when she reached between the two of you to rub your pussy through your panties. “Feel?”

“Yeah, I feel.” She started petting you while she leaned down to kiss your neck, tutting when you started to take off her sweatshirt. “That stays on. You wear my clothes, you get fucked in my clothes, new rule.”

“Okay.” You whined when she continued rubbing your cunt as she kissed her way down your chest. “You realize that’s not going to discourage me though?”

“It’s not supposed to, hush.” Nat winked at you before pushing her head under the sweatshirt and kissing the undersides of your breasts. “So soft.”

Natasha had never thought of herself as a tits man, but something about yours drove her fucking crazy. Maybe it was the way your pretty nipples would pebble as soon as her breath fanned over them, or when you shivered while she ran her nose along their soft curves. But she was pretty sure it was just because they were yours, and that you were so damn responsive when she paid any attention to them at all. So she started covering your chest with kisses, humming against your skin when you squirmed and whined for her.

Your eyes fluttered closed when she pulled as much of your breast into her mouth as she could and sucked softly, moaning as her tongue swirled around your nipple. She kneaded your other breast with her hand, smiling around your soft flesh when you arched your back to get even closer to her. When she felt you start to vibrate she bared her teeth, biting your nipple gently until you squealed.

“Natasha…” You laughed when she just grunted before kissing her way to your other breast. “One track mind.”

“Yep.” You could practically hear her smirking, but then she sucked on your nipple and pressed her fingers against your swollen clit through your panties and all you could do was whimper.

The rain kept pattering against the window as she worked you over like only she could, adding to the pleasant haze you were in while you gasped and sighed underneath her. She was so warm, so gentle with you. Her fingers kept stroking your pussy while she nibbled on your breast, rubbing your sensitive button until she heard your breath catch. All it took was a little pinch and you came with a squeak, your panties getting even more sticky as you gushed your release.

“Such a messy baby.” Nat ran her nose down your soft stomach slowly, her head slipping out from under her sweatshirt so she could grin at you. “You’re lucky I like it when all my furniture smells like you.”

“Oh my god, perv.” You giggled when she nipped at your hip before rubbing her nose over the gusset of your panties. “You’re such a dirty old lady.”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll spank you instead of licking your pussy.” She buried her face in your cunt and moaned even as she pinched your thigh in warning.

“Oh nooooooooo…” You yelped when she pulled back and swatted your pussy over your panties. “How terrible for me.”

“Oh… shut up.” Nat rolled her eyes before going back to work, taking the crotch of your panties between her teeth and growling mischievously when she started to drag them down your legs.

“Nat!” She didn’t stop when the doorbell rang, just grumbling as she kept dragging your underwear off like she was a riled up frat boy. “That’s the food!”

“But I’ve already got a warm, delicious meal right here.” Nat huffed when you poured at her, sitting up with your panties still in her mouth and giving you a show of sucking your juices out of them before she tossed them aside. “But I know you want your pasta.”

“Thank you.” You tugged the sweatshirt down to cover your hips and covered yourself with the blanket, clapping excitedly when you smelled the bolognese. “You’re the best sugar mommy ever.”

“You’re such a tease.” She pulled you into her lap after handing you your container, kissing your temple when you bit into your garlic bread. “I do love spoiling you, though, sweet little peach. So eat your pasta, and I’ll let you eat all the tiramisu while I have you for dessert.”

#natalie writes #happy pride 🌈#no love like your love: the city #big red and peach #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x petite!curvy reader #female reader #wlw fanfic #wlw fluff #eighteen plus

353 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 8 months

Text

Eyeless Jack cuddling + sleep hcs !

short little break in between TADC stuff since i kinda miss writing for creepypasta, and i miss EJ... lil guy.. also side note, carrots irritate my throat real bad and i kind of. got forced to eat something with carrot so im in hell rn im so so mad, i can even like. go make tea w/ honey in it like people keep telling me to do because honey ALSO fucks me up.. hot cocoa my beloved i am PRAYING that you save me from this torment, even for just a moment *crumples onto the floor into a pathetic dried up heap)

okay so obviously, like the other eyeless jack (well all the other creepypasta stuff) i write this is leaning very heavy on my take on him as well as how i personally draw and perceive him in my head

for one hes short but hes thick, so cuddling him is like cuddling a large teddy bear!

i actually had to look through my old posts to remember if i hc him to be hot or cold; and hes cold! freezing cold, actually.. good for the summers but not so much now that its the colder months... unfortunately, thats just an aspect of the thing that made him... well, eyeless jack... he doesnt really, warm up.. i think the coldness actually gets worse overtime since in my au hes becoming less and less human, so overtime cuddling actually gets more uncomfortable :(

moving on from some more... sad ideas, i think hes soft. like hes built, he has muscle, but i think a fair amount of that is just plush chub (i am an advocator for beefcake ej!!!)

it takes a while for him to get into the swing of wanting to actually... be physically close to you and have you be vulnerable with him since internally he does have fears that the bits of him that make him crave human meat may rear its head in...

but he does eventually warm up to you after some time..! it just takes a lot of reassurance and trust building, as well as developing a system should there ever be a... situation..

i dont think he sleeps, either, demon stuff you know? like i think at first he could sleep if he wanted but overtime loses the ability to sleep altogether... but hey look at this way, he wants to watch over you for the night until sunrise. he wants to make sure youre safe during your more vulnerable moments

and i think thats really sweet, actually

i need to write more ej stuff... i miss this guy so much, i miss my hcs... i think i might write angst for him soon.. i feel evil

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack imagine

113 notes · View notes

mychlapci · 25 days

Note

you are so real for the orion pax being a big beefy labourer thing

for my continuity i went the route of having orion being a dock worker who happened to get picked by alpha trion to be his apprentice because orion had been posting some historical analysis that alpha trion really vibed with

he's meant to be a version of orion who knows the struggles and the hardships of being a lower class worker within a society that treats it's lower class like shit. and also he can fully see the hypocrisy of the upper class when he becomes part of it.

of course he remains a beefcake throughout it all, which further leads to him being bullied by other members of the archivist class because he doesn't look like them

optimus is a whole separate guy however! he and orion are a part of a system and the matrix just pulled him to the surface. he's a warrior first and foremost and as such is built like a truck (pun fully intended)

i'm never a fan of the narrative of tf stories making the decepticons victims of a horrific class system that considered them less than human and then says "um actually they shouldn't want equal rights and being violent is always bad" especially when they make the autobots these beacons of virtue who are from the upper class. it's icky

oh shit i missed this. Orion being a lower class dock worker taken in by a high caste mech is so compelling. him being bullied and ostracized because of his frame type and upbringing would perfectly explain why he'd strive for change. i always felt like if you had a higher caste orion who didn't really interact with the lower castes (re: tfp orion) his involvement in revolutionary antics just kinda seems like... a hobby? you know, it's like he decided to amuse megatron a little because he had a day off. not that that would be the case, but i just feel like it makes more sense if he has a direct reason to ally himself with megatron. at least the whole "peaceful change" thing would be in better taste...

#texty

18 notes · View notes

gengarghast · 9 months

Note

I liked sparklecare until the author did this odd thing where villainous or morally questionable characters are always strictly cishet and even said it was their hard-line rule? Like LGBT characters can never be antagonists or abusive which just felt weird to me, maybe they relaxed on that though I dunno? I am def never offended if a villain shares my gender in a series where good guys can be like me anyway I mean

TLDR: Yeah, there's some weird gender bias with the characters sometimes. Anyways, *starts talking about Awful Hospital again*

Also, spoilers for both Sparklecare Hospital and Awful Hospital. (up to page 41 of SH and various plot point/character reveals for Awful Hospital)

I haven't read too far into the comic myself to confirm, and the genders of the characters were kind of vague anyways thanks to Nurse Mood's shitty notetaking (EDIT: I learned about the existence of the 'Cast' page, my bad), but yeah I've definitely seen a pattern where the LGBT characters are all 'good', regardless of whether they're a patient or employed by the hospital.

For example, Mood and Ms. Dies are in a lesbian relationship. They're also both employed by the hospital, and despite this are portrayed sympathetically, in opposition to Dr. Cuddles' being genuinely malicious and cruel, as seen below:

...Even though it's also shown that Mood doesn't give half a shit about the patients, either.

Now, if you want some equal, well-handled representation, look no further than seriously one of the worst best webcomics of all time...

Awful Hospital, despite the majority of its cast not even being remotely human, has some great LGBTQ representation in both it's heroes and its villains! Well, 'villains'. The only real villain is the Big Bad(s) of the series, everyone else is just doing what they gotta do in order to survive.

Speaking of which, this is E.M. Balmer. He's a villain of a whole arc, and has a sort of "kid's cartoon villain" vibe. Goofy, incredibly self-absorbed, and affably evil. He's also implied to have some sort of interest in another male character, Dr. Phage.

Also, just tell me this beefcake isn't some sort of a Gay. Just look at him.

...AAAANYWAYS, in terms of heroic queer characters, you've got your choice between the Lesbians and the Trans.

Celia and Staph are this really sweet fungal/bacterial couple who have like a trillion kids and are also besties with the person who's corpse they live in.

Miss is cleverly implied to be trans with this line here:

Which, personally, I think is really cool!!!!

ALSO I JUST REMEMBERED, THERE ARE ALSO SCISSORS WHO ARE LESBIANS! AND ALSO THESE STAIN MOMS

Also, I realize I didn't really talk much about how cool and epic Awful Hospital's LGBTQ+ characters are very much, buuuut that's because I'm tired and need to sleep so whatever

Anyways, goodnight tumblr people, and...

Read Awful Hospital for fuck's sake!!!

#gengarghast #awful hospital #bogleech #sparklecare #sparklecarp #EM balmer #miss awful hospital #celia awful hospital #staph awful hospital #there sure are a lot of lesbian couples #nurse mood

49 notes · View notes

no1frogfan · 2 years

Text

Picking Iwaizumi up from the airport

Picking the Haikyuu boys up from the airport - Iwaizumi Hajime

Word count: ~500 Some sexually suggestive language, GN reader

Note: Does anyone else get super horny after flights? No? Only me? >> Another Haikyuu boy airport scenario, this time with my fave beefcake

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your boyfriend looks like he’s ready to murder someone. His fists are clenched, muscles rippling beneath his tracksuit as he stomps out of the terminal. You laugh to yourself. Hajime has the worst luck on flights. He’s always trapped near a crying baby, or next to someone wearing really strong perfume, or getting his knees crushed by the person reclining in front of him, or something. His normally calm features are wrenched into a deep scowl. If this were a scene in a film, you imagine there would be legions of screaming people fleeing before him as he tramples through the city. It wasn’t far from reality, actually, as you watch folks scurry out of his path.

“Iwa!” You rush toward him, waving. “Hajime!”

Iwaizumi’s head whips around. His furious expression melts into a tired smile when he catches sight of you. He adjusts his duffel bag with one hand and holds out his other arm as you run into his embrace.

“Missed you,” you croon in his ear as he effortlessly picks you up and spins you around. You turn to kiss his jaw before burying your face in his shoulder.

“Missed you too, baby,” he mumbles, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. “The flight sucked.”

“Unlucky again, huh?” You giggle as you step back.

“You don’t even know the half of it!” He laments. You laugh and interlace your fingers with his as you lead him to the car, listening sympathetically while he complains about his trip back from California.

“That sounds like a nightmare. Sorry babe,” you say soothingly when you arrive at your parking spot.

Iwaizumi heaves an exhausted sigh as he haphazardly tosses his bag into the trunk. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d come with me. I hate being away from you for so long.”

“I know babe, me too. Why don’t we have a date night tonight?” You suggest, hoping to cheer him up. “We can get takeout from that place with the really good agedashi tofu and watch whatever you want. I’ll even watch volleyball and not complain about it.”

He steps behind you as you close the trunk and wraps his sturdy arms around your waist. “Mmm… That sounds almost perfect,” he murmurs in your ear, “but I think I’m going to need a special appetizer first, and extra dessert too.” He pulls you against his chest and his warmth seeps into your back. You lean into him, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder. He trails his lips along the base of your neck, drawing out a soft moan.

“Hajime! Wait until we get home,” you scold breathlessly. He grumbles, reluctantly letting go and getting into the car.

He gives you a pointed look as you slip into the driver’s seat. “You’d better step on it then.” His voice is hoarse and demanding. “I’ll pay for the speeding ticket.” A shiver of anticipation runs up your spine as you start the engine.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #froggy scribbles

347 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 6 months

Note

Navy oh my god

I need to tell the world about this and immediately thought of you because I am truly living my best beefy personal trainer Bucky x plus size reader rn 😭

I just recently started feeling comfortable in my body again (truly such a journey, it’s been great) and I’m back on dating apps and I added some full body pics I’m truly proud of for the first time ever. I’m on hinge, so I can see who likes me first and I can decide to match or not.

Well- I saw that this absolute beefcake of a ginger gym daddy (he’s 7 years older than me) liked me. I thought “oh there’s no way…” and then thought “no bitch! You’re a catch!” And we matched, and we’ve been talking for a few days. And while talking about gyms and such he told me he just opened his own and wanted me to come down to be his curvy eye candy to get more clients 😭😭😭 he also told me I have the body of a Greek goddess and he makes me swoon just asking how my day is going.

Like I’m truly losing it today because it’s only been a few hours since he texted me and I miss him????? Who am I! He lives 3 hours away which is truly not a big deal to me but I want to see him so bad. UGH

Maybe ill keep you updated on this journey LOL

-I’ll have to come up with a fun sign off name

Ahh, nonnie! I love this journey for you. Alexis Rose just popped in my head. You are living the PT!Bucky x plus size!reader life! 🥰

I thought “oh there’s no way…” and then thought “no bitch! You’re a catch!”

YES. This is the energy we love to see. I'm so happy that you're comfortable in your body. It makes my heart happy. And this PT sounds amazing.

And I couldn't resist sharing a gif. 😉

Please keep us posted on and if you think of a sign off name or emoji. ❤️ Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat answers #personal ask #personal journey #put a smile on my face #sweet nonnie #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated

27 notes · View notes

gggoldfinch · 9 months

Text

The Devil's Bow

Aether Ghoul x Fem!Reader

(disclaimer: photo found on pinterest ^ )

A/N: I love aether so much it's not even funny, I miss him so fucking bad. I couldn't get his dumb beefcake ass out of my head so this is the unhinged result... I blame my hormones making me insanely feral warnings: pwp, monsterfucking, explicit sexual content, unprotected piv, loss of virginity, breeding kink, blood drinking, biting, praise kink, slight degradation, pet names, orgasm delay/ denial, religious imagery & symbolism word count: 8,675 {AO3 Link}

summary: Feeling rebellious and stupid, you decide that playing around with ritual incantations is a good way to vent your frustrations with your life. The only problem is that you don't read or speak Latin, and don't really believe anything will happen when you follow the directions and speak the words. You summon the wrong type of demon, but he isn't opposed to fulfilling the ritual request.

***

Some people start drinking or smoking to rebel against their overly-religious parents, but all you've done so far is fail to uphold any sort of belief in their faith— the one they forced upon you all throughout your tumultuous childhood, spent suffering in Catholic school. You're the disappointment of the family, talked about like a pariah and treated even more poorly. You try not to let it bother you, but the bitterness and rejection takes a form like a dark shadow, always lingering just over your shoulder, following you everywhere throughout life. It influences your stupid decisions, and most certainly fueled this particular one.

When you went searching for spells and rituals, you didn't think you'd find one that actually works. You didn't think you'd find any that work, actually. It's hard not to grow jaded and skeptical of everything even remotely religious with zealot parents like your own. Sure you'd been a little nervous going into it, following the outlined directions to create the summoning circle—even more nervous as you stumbled through the Latin incantation—but still, you'd never once assumed anything would actually happen. You can't understand Latin, so honestly you have no fucking idea what you just said, or what you just summoned. A vacuous pit forms in your stomach like a black hole, spiking your bloodstream with mass amounts of adrenaline and fear.

Your knees ache where you kneel on the wooden floor, staring up at the form of a figure taking shape in the center of the summoning circle. It's a human shape, but you're not stupid enough to convince yourself that it's human. The strange cloud is backlit only by numerous flickering candles and the occasional bolt of lightning outside the thinly curtained bay windows. Rain patters an ominous drum beat against the windows, creating an ambiance suited to your growing terror at the moment.

"Oh, God," you cry out. If there is a god, they're surely not looking out for you, of all people, in this instance.

You scramble to your feet, legs shaking so hard that you can barely keep yourself upright. Your trembling hands fist your long nightgown with enough force to turn your knuckles white. The sickening scent of ozone and blood permeates the air as the creature continues to materialize; the silver cloud that surrounds the shadowy silhouette begins to crystallize into a tangible form. A tangible, and decidedly nude form. The body is humanoid, build of a tall and thick-set man, though his skin is a startling shade of slate grey. Beefy arms and thighs look like they can crush you without second thought, and his thick abdomen is like a sturdy tree trunk. Large and evidently clawed hands are folded rather daintily over the man-creature's groin, covering what you can only assume to be his similarly endowed manhood. The silver cloud coalesces with finality into a chrome helmet concealing his head; it looks like a devil face, with a pointed chin—reminiscent of the classic depiction of satan with a van dyke beard—and a smooth lack of a mouth. Though the head is tilted back, you can still make out how the helm even has two little horns and sculpted hair. It completely obscures whatever sort of face this beast may possess, and that feels more frightening than potentially seeing its true face.

The masked head snaps to attention from its lax tilt, immediately focusing on you. You've managed to put a considerable amount of distance between yourself and the summoning circle, but it feels all for naught under the intensity of the man-creature's stare. Hauntingly pale and slit-pupil eyes stare out at you through the almond-shaped eye holes of the chrome mask. A strangled gasp slips from your throat and you attempt to stumble backwards another shaking step.

The demon—for now you're sure that's what it is—breaks his gaze from you and casts those haunting eyes to the floor, curiously examining the summoning circle arranged around his bare feet. The peculiar tilt of his head strikes you as a look of confusion, for whatever reason. You watch in rapt awe and horror as he breaks his stiff posture to slowly sink to one knee, unfurling his folded hands to gingerly trace along the chalk drawing on the floor.

"The sigil is correct, you must have spoken the incantation incorrectly." The demon's voice is deep and silky, yet nearly two-toned as it reaches your ears, like two voices speaking at once— simultaneously a full-toned bass and a feathery whisper. It feels like all other noise in the room is sucked out in a vacuum the moment he speaks. "Or else I wouldn't be here."

Thundering heart in your throat, you realize the demon is saying you performed the ritual incorrectly and wouldn't have summoned him otherwise. You're unsure if he means you wouldn't have summoned anything at all, or if you wouldn't have summoned him in particular. You don't know if this is good news either, and aren't really excited to find out. The enormous figure slowly rises to his feet, and for the first time you see a spaded tail flicking back and forth behind him. The tail is thick at the base and prehensile, sturdy like a lash.

"I— Oh my God," you whisper. Your trembling fingers come up to cover your treacherous mouth. "I didn't think it would work."

The laugh that peals from beneath the mouthless mask shakes you down to your very bones. You whimper when the man-creature takes a step over the scribbled line chalk. The wood floor creaks under his weight even as he places his clawed feet down with deliberately controlled steps. The demon stalks towards you across the room, shortening the distance between you with each lengthy stride.

"Oh, little lamb," he purrs, voice like honey and thorns, "God has nothing to do with this. You've summoned me, now I've come to do what has been requested of me."

A pathetic little sob works its way up out of your throat and you can't choke it down before it slips past your lips. Nor can you control the fearful tears that spring forth from your eyes, spilling down your cheeks in hot trails. Your back bumps against the far wall and your hands scrabble against it for any sort of purchase.

"Ohhh, what did I do," you wail, pressing yourself as far away from the approaching beast as you can possibly manage. "Please don't kill me! Please, I didn't know! I didn't know what it said!"

You know if this demon is truly intent on devouring you or, dragging your soul to Hell, or torturing you for all eternity, no amount of pleading can save you. Yet, your human nature forces the words out of your mouth regardless of whether they'll work or not.

Through a blur of tears and squinted lids, you watch as the demon reaches up and hooks its thick fingers under the lip of its helmet. Your eyes avoid his face, instead watching the metal helm as it's brought down to his side, then dropped with a weighty thud to the floor. The helmet is so heavy it doesn't even rock upon impact, just drops straight down like a sack of boulders. You squeeze your eyes shut then, turning your face to the side to avoid laying eyes on the demon as he looms over you. You feel his shadow draped over you like a cold blanket, smothering you in impossible darkness. This close, you can feel the blistering heat of his body through your thin nightgown; the scent of Frankincense and coriander fills your nostrils. You wonder if this is a comforting ruse to draw you in, the way a predator deceives and lures its prey.

"You don't know what what said, lamb?" His hot breath wafts across your cheek, raising goosebumps on your skin.

"T-The incantation," you gasp out. You feel the figure draw up and back at that, almost as if he's backed away slightly.

"You don't understand Latin?"

His two-tone voice takes on a bit of an edge. You clamp your eyes shut even tighter, seeing stars dance beneath your lids, and fervently shake your head no in response.

"I'm not going to kill you." His voice is shockingly gentle now, face closer to yours again. Warm, clawed digits find their way to your jaw, gently maneuvering your head to face forward. You don't resist the demon's ministrations, allowing him to tilt your face up towards his. You continue you squeeze your eyes shut, however, unable to will yourself to look upon his face. "Look at me, pretty girl."

He gives your head a little bit of a shake and a tiny huff of breath slips through your parted lips. You hesitantly peel your eyes open. First, you only see a strong chin and thin grey lips, curled upward at one corner. Then, a small pointed nose is revealed, studded with a thick gunmetal ring through the left nostril. Then those eyes meet yours once more, large and all-encompassing— chilling to behold. Full, heavy eyebrows arch over those pale eyes, and small horns crest a high forehead. Heavily pierced and decidedly pointed ears jut out from either side of his closely shaven head, and either side of his face is bracketed by mutton chop sideburns. The face of the demon would actually be rather charming if you weren't afraid for your life and soul right now.

"There you are."

You hold your breath in your lungs like a bomb will go off if you exhale. The fingers on your jaw draw you closer, and the demon makes a show to brush his nose and lips against yours, just barely light enough to feel. He breathes into your slightly open mouth and you inhale the bittersweet air with little resistance.

"You called upon an incubus, which I am not. But I am not opposed to fulfilling your request." Those eyes hold yours as he speaks into your mouth. "Do you even know what you requested, silly little girl?"

His airy tone isn't remotely malicious, which incites both relief and an entirely new form of worry. You timidly shake your head again without breaking his entrancing eye contact, the tip of your nose swiping lightly against his. A broad, amused smile spreads across his face, revealing innumerable fangs and bluish black gums. You swallow thickly, eyes darting between his pale reptilian eyes and the grinning maw of knife-like teeth.

"Sweet thing, you should get in the habit of doing more research," he chuckles, dipping his head low to brush your nose with his again. The way his heavily lidded eyes begin to roam your face and neck is almost... sultry...? That hand at your jaw shifts, a clawed thumb tracing the seam of your soft lips. "Silly little human girls like you perform rituals like that to summon a demon to fulfill your needs..."

He seems entirely too smug as he says that, almost like he's playing it up just to fluster you. He succeeds, as heat immediately floods your cheeks and pools unbidden between your thighs. You squirm at the sudden unfurling of arousal in your core, blossoming like a sinful flower. You suck in a breath and the demon takes the opportunity to slip his thumb between your lips. The taste of his skin is sharp and bitter in the way bonfire smoke is, his claw probing against your tongue. Your heart pounds in the confines of your chest, though not necessarily out of fear anymore. Nostrils flared and eyes wide, you pant against his hand, wrapping your lips around his thick knuckle.

"An incubus might ask for something in return, but seeing how you summoned me instead, by mistake... Well, I pride myself on being generous. I'll give you a free pass this time, if only to feel you on the inside."

He removes his thumb from your mouth only to press his lips to yours in a light, decidedly chaste kiss. You hum against his grey lips, finding yourself rising on your toes to meet him when he retreats.

"What do you say, lamb? What do you say to the offer of indescribable pleasure?"

Your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his words. Performing a dumb ritual is one thing, but fucking a demon is a whole other level of rebellion. You hadn't known that's what the ritual was for, but you're not entirely apt to complain about it now. The more you look at him, the more attractive the demon gets, and you can't deny how interested you are; he's a strapping specimen of a man, human or not, and you aren't blind to the bestial sexuality he exudes. The thrill of disobedience and the dark unknown sears through your veins and mixes with adrenaline and arousal to create an intoxicating cocktail of recklessness. With a pathetic whining breath you raise your hands and paw experimentally at the demon's broad chest. Your fingertips dance through the thick hair across his steadily rising and falling chest, testing boundaries by curiously tugging at it.

The demon growls, the noise rumbling beneath your hands like an earthquake. His horned head darts down and in an instant he is nosing your throat, roughly enough to bump the back of your head against the paneled wall. The metal ring in his nostril is cold against your heated skin and your pulse pounds against his lips. You're already breathless and titillated when he raises his mouth to your ear, whispering so sinfully and so intimately.

"It too will be my pleasure in corrupting a pure, innocent virgin like yourself," he growls into your ear.

A thrill drags its cold fingers up your spine and you involuntarily arch up into his front. He laughs, slipping a hand to the small of your back to press you closer. Your bare bodies are separated only by your gauzy nightgown. You can feel his arousal pressed into your stomach, thick and hard and throbbing against you. You'd been so focused on his handsome face that you'd failed to notice his erection and now you're too intimidated to chance a glance at it sandwiched between your bodies.

"H-How do you know that I— That I'm—"

Instead of answering, the demon claims your mouth, kissing you deeply, savagely. His lips slot against your own with a perfect bruising force. You gasp at being caught off guard and feel a long tongue slip between your lips. He licks into your mouth, tasting your teeth and tongue like he's partaking in the most delicious forbidden fruit. His tongue is sweet and somewhat cloying as you suck lightly on it, panting through your nose as he crushes his face against yours. Hands grope at your hips and ass, bunching up the back of your nightgown and gently raking the skin beneath with the tips of his claws. You break away to heave for breath and some semblance of stability. Your fingers flex against his collarbone and slip up to his thick neck, tracing up the twin columns of muscle and tendon.

The half-lifted hem of your nightgown rustles around your calves, then you feel something begin to snake up the length of your leg; it takes a moment to realize that it's his prehensile tail. A shiver of delight and perturbation racks your frame when the spaded tip slips around the back of your leg and caresses the tender skin of your inner thigh, just below where you ache for him. Your fingers scratch the base of his neck, unable to find an anchor point on his shaven scalp. You're so sensitive under his touch, feeling stimulated in ways you've never experienced— and he's barely even done anything yet.

Just when you think he's going to touch you where you need him to, the tail slips away from beneath your smock and his hands retreat from your rear. Your eyes go wide and desperate, your hands petting the back of his fuzzy head as if you can coax him back into touching you.

"You're so trusting," he purrs. Again, there's no malice in his wispy baritone, but you get the distinct impression he's gently scolding you.

Without warning, your body is pushed back against the wall completely— yet, the demon still isn't touching you. The force holding you still is as strong as gravity, akin only to the centrifugal force of those flying saucer amusement park rides. Your breathing quickens anxiously, staring silently up at the pale eyes of the demon for any explanation. He doesn't do anything other than hold your gaze though, even as your feet lose connection with the floor and your head nears the crown molding.

Your poor heart thunders in your throat, making it hard to breathe properly as you find yourself suspended flat against the ceiling. Clenched eyes avoid looking down upon the candlelit room— upon the summoning circle you were stupid enough to throw together. Gravity pulls against you as if you're lying on the floor rather than the ceiling, which is more disorienting than it is frightening once you acclimate to it. Your nightgown and hair lay flat against the plaster in a way that doesn't make sense to your discombobulated brain. It's realistically only a few moments before you find the courage to peek your eyes open, but to you it feels like time has elongated exponentially. The demon stands amused beneath you, head tilted back and hands on his sturdy hips like a suburban dad surveying a particularly interesting weather occurrence overhead. He still sports a raging erection, which paired with the stance and scenario would be a little funny if not for your concentration on not getting dizzy.

"L-Let me down," you whisper, eyes squeezing shut again as you battle down nausea.

"Only if you ask nicely, pretty girl," the demon shoots back. You can hear the grin in his voice, taunting you.

"P-Please, please. You're right, I'm too trusting. Please let me down now."

All at once the gravity that had been suspending you to the ceiling releases and you're falling and falling and... the demon catches you and cradles you against his chest with thick arms slung under your back and legs. You breathe heavily and clutch the nightgown over your palpitating heart, eyes popping open to fix him with a startled look. Perhaps you are too trusting, but it's clear the man-creature has had everything under his careful control from the very start of this interaction. Your eyes wandering down to his mouth is enough to lure him into another passionate kiss.

You're remotely aware of the bulky man kneeling as he continues kissing you. Then, you're laid down on the floor with a shockingly tender amount of care, like one would lay down a doll or a baby. His powerful hands find your bent knees and begin to slide up the length of your thighs, fingers splayed to span the flesh. The slow motion gradually rucks up your nightgown, revealing inch by inch of the vulnerable skin of your lightly trembling legs. He kisses you to distract you, but you clench your thighs to conceal your modesty either way, squirming at the pressure it puts on your clit.

"Ah, eager little thing," he says in a moment you must part for breath. "I'll make sure to make this last."

Nails drag through the groomed facial hair outlining his face. Your panting breaths mingle with his steady ones where your mouths meet and part rhythmically. His hands continue upward, sliding fluidly from your thighs to your hips, continuing onward up your tender sides. The drafty, damp air of the room kisses your freshly bared stomach, drawing a pitiful groan from high in your throat. Big and warm hands reverently knead your flesh as he continues exploring and dragging your nightgown upward. His hands chase away the cold chill of the hardwood floor, warming up your insides like a fire. Finally the bunched nightgown comes to rest above your tits and the demon swallows your gasp when the cold air meets your chest.

He pulls back to admire you as those broad, rough hands paw greedily at your tits. You squirm and arch into the touch. His long black claws dimple into supple flesh as he kneads in earnest, teasing as they dip into the tender swells but avoid piercing the skin. He opens his mouth and you witness his tongue for the first time— the black muscle unfurling longer than any human tongue. He squeezes your breast and laves his tongue over the overly sensitive nipple, pebbled hard from the chill. Grey lips fold around the bud as he sucks, followed shortly by the pinpricks of those razor-sharp fangs playfully nipping at you. Your lungs convulse in shock and you push your tits into his face. Your body is so sensitive and reactive, everything responding to him in ways you never could have imagined.

You writhe restlessly under the demon's skillful touch, whining louder as he continues playing with your tits. Only when he has sucked and bitten several red spots does he move on from your chest. Lips trail between your breasts and down the center of your stomach, black tongue tracing wet lines which cool in the air and raises goosebumps along your abdomen. One of his hands wedges between your tightly clenched knees, prying your legs apart with little effort. The man-creature's thick body slips between your thighs before you can clamp them shut again, exposing your glistening core to him.

Heat prickles your face and pools between your opened thighs, embarrassment and excitement warring for dominance. Bent over your prone form, the demon leisurely rakes his claws up and down your sides, narrowed eyes observing your body and reactions appreciatively. Your own hands repeatedly chase his as they smooth over your skin, and are repeatedly pushed out of the way in order for him to continue rubbing up and down your ribs. The black keratin claws leave long red lines, using just enough pressure to leave visible marks but enough to not draw blood. His power and restraint is humbling and frightening, and terribly arousing.

Holding your eyes rapt with his own, the man-shaped beast slowly begins to lower himself until he's close enough to dip his face between the thickest portion of your thighs. His hands forcefully clamp down around the small of your waist and keep you pinned when he drags his pierced nose through your dripping folds, nudging your swollen clit before surfacing. You pant frantically and squirm in his unforgiving grip, desperately clutching the backs of his hands. It's almost uncomfortable how foreign the feeling is, but the thought and feeling of his face buried in your sex is so undeniably arousing that it drowns out the discomfort. He dips down again, and nosing you. This time he allows his devilish tongue to slither out and taste you. It laps at your dripping entrance, trailing up to circle your throbbing clit. A bolt of electric pleasure shoots through you and you cry out, hands flying from his to grasp at his shaven head. Your fingers hook around the small horns at his high hairline and use them as leverage to pull him closer and grind yourself onto his face. The pads of your thumbs emphatically trace up the front of the little beige horns and that elicits a full, rumbling moan from the lips of your inhuman lover into your core.

The demon grinds your clit with his nose and laps at your wetness with his tongue, yet does not penetrate you. Your hips buck and muscles seize with the concentrated attention to your swollen bud, body racked with spasms of euphoria. He drags it out longer than you've ever lasted on your own before, somehow able to sense every single time you begin to near orgasm. Every time you feel your completion slip away you wail and rub at his horns, as if you can butter him up and coax him to properly finish you by massaging his erogenous zones. Though each time he gives an unrestrained moan and enthusiastic squeeze to your waist, he never lets up nor lets you come.

Finally he does something different, but it's not what you'd been anticipating. He draws back entirely, kneeling between your heavily trembling thighs. His smug face glistens with your wetness and he licks his lips in satisfaction. His gaze is dark and hungry, devouring you with just a look. Before you can protest, he grasps your hips and hauls you towards him, yanking your bottom half up onto his bent thighs. You squeal and attempt to wriggle away, feeling entirely too vulnerable and exposed in this position. He shushes you and pets your sides soothingly before returning his bruising grip to the fullness of your hips. Your knees brace insecurely against his ribs, calves hugging against his lower back. The tail begins to stroke your left calf, further pacifying you.

"Go on, pretty girl. If you want me you'll have to finish yourself first," he croons. "Put on a show for me, baby."

Your breath hitches at his words. Drunk on the prolonged high of his teasing, your palm begins caressing down the length of your bare body, fingers splaying as you explode the swells and curves of your own body for him. You don't know how to put on a show or impress him, but the way he's looking at you makes you think it's working regardless. The demon's slitted eyes watch your every movement with a fascinated intensity, memorizing each motion and noise you make under your own hand. His nostrils flare with interest and arousal when your hand finally sinks between your elevated thighs. Your middle two digits tentatively finger your engorged clit, working up a frenzy. Watching you rubbing tight circles on your clit elicits a deep, rumbling growl from the demon and he slaps his hands down on your thighs, keeping a tight hold on you as you twitch and writhe.

From this angle, with your hips, thighs, and ass propped up on his meaty thighs, his erect manhood bobs just above the apex of your thighs where your hand meets your cunt. A pearly bead of precum drips onto your hand and runs between the cracks of your fingers, which are still dutifully hard at work. You only notice now that you can see the fullness of his cock, but there are several definite ridges along its shaft, leading to a somewhat tapered, pointed tip. The thought of what they may feel like inside you has a fresh wave of arousal gushing in your core. You squirm under his relentless stare, mewling as your fingers milk your own pleasure. You chase the white-hot release in your core higher and higher over the peak of ecstasy, nearly to the point of sobbing when you orgasm. Claws sink into the meat of your thighs as you tense and tremble under him, your mouth dropping open in a gasping moan.

The beast leans down and practically folds you in half to meet your open mouth with a rough and rapacious kiss. His sweet tongue licks into your mouth, drinking up your panting breaths and high-pitched whimpers. There is no coming down from the high of your orgasm— not when he is pinning your thighs to your chest and kissing you like you're the air he breathes. He isn't discreet in the way he grinds his heavy cock between your folds, coating himself in your liquid desire.

"Such a good girl," he hisses out, dragging his numerous fangs along your jaw. "Such a good little whore for me. Do you want me to fuck you like one?"

You let out something between a wail and a moan, nodding frantically against the scruff of his sideburn. He slides his hands up the bare backs of your thighs, hooking his thumbs around the bends in your knees to keep you sufficiently pinned in place. The position makes you short of breath, squeezing each panting huff from your straining lungs. The demon noses your cheek and you feel the press of his weight and his teeth when he speaks.

"Use your words, pretty girl. I know you haven't been fucked dumb yet because I've barely even touched you."

You try your hardest to squirm beneath his considerable weight but only succeed in grinding yourself against his throbbing cock.

"P— Please," you gasp, "I ne— I need you to fu-uck me!"

"Good girl," he purrs.

He leaves a surprisingly tender kiss against the corner of your mouth and you find yourself chasing his lips, seeking out the sickly sweet taste of his mouth. He chuckles when you eagerly peck his lips a few successive times, though allows you to continue with the innocent indulgence. He has far more sinful things in mind, after all. The candles around the room flicker, a crack of thunder rattles the windows.

The demon shifts your legs to one side, both knees straining to bend over his right shoulder. With one hand freed—the other still holding your legs in place—he seeks out the chalice of your forbidden nectar, slipping his clawed fingers in between your puffy folds. With a deftness that isn't as surprising as it is comforting, he slips two fingers into your pussy without so much as brushing you with his talons. You jerk against his restraining pressure when he crooks those fingers inside you and strokes a spot that makes you see stars. You convulse at the feeling, pushing your hips into the overpowering sensation.

He pets the sensitive spot inside you a few times more before removing his hand from you. It instead wedges between your bodies where he grasps his cock and thoroughly coats it with your slick, pumping himself up for good measure, as if he isn't already hard as stone. You jolt when he runs the swollen, slightly pointed head over your clit and whimper when he ruts against your cunt. The breath is completely stolen from your lungs when he presses into you, sinking into the wet heat of your soaked pussy. He groans sinfully, baring his innumerable sharp teeth as he sinks deeper. The ribbed ridges pop inside you one by one, slowly dragging along your velvety interior. Folded in half like this, you feel his thick length penetrating deep inside you, deeper than you could've ever thought possible. You think you feel him in the back of your throat, sinking further and further into your heat seemingly without end. The stretch and sting is immense, but nothing in comparison to the utterly blissful feeling of fullness.

You gasp for air once the beast finally reaches the hilt, gulping down greedy lungfuls like you've never breathed a moment in your life. Already, sweat is beading on your face and in the valley between your breasts, yet the hulking man-creature barely looks winded above you. He examines your flushed and debauched face with a sort of scientific interest; his inhumanly pale, slit-pupil eyes roam over your features like one would observe a creature they've never seen before. Above all, he looks at you with an indescribable hunger, which threatens to spill out and consume you whole.

"How does it feel, little lamb?" he asks with a toothy grin, taking smug pleasure in your fucked-out delirium. He leans in close, making sure you can hear his words as he continues in a low, husky tone. "How does it feel to be defiled and deflowered by an infernal creature like me?"

Punctuating his sinful words, he grinds hard into you, drawing out a pitiful wheeze from your abused lungs. The base of his cock grinds against your clit, the friction making you whine and desperately claw at his thick shoulders. The more he prolongs this the more it begins to feel like some form of torture, and you start to feel yourself brimming with sudden, frustrated tears. You didn't know how much you needed this until it is being dangled just out of reach. Everything is still painfully over-sensitive, and your pathetic yearning for him and for another release is becoming too much to bear. He hasn't even fucked you yet and you can already tell you're going to be insatiable.

"Poor little lamb, so hungry for me," the demon coos, a smidge patronizingly. He removes his stabilizing hand from your legs to caress your hot, sweating face, wiping away the exasperated tears that have squeezed out past your clenched eyelids. "There there, no need to cry. I'll fuck you, pretty girl, just like you want."

He leans back just slightly—giving you a bit extra room to draw in a whole breath—and with him he takes the feeling of being stuffed full. His ridged cock pulls out nearly all the way, leaving your pussy to twitch around nothing in nervous anticipation. You tilt your head back, shifting in suspense and swimming in the prolonged feeling of borderline euphoria; almost there, but not quite. You try to focus on steadying your breathing—

The sound drawn from your throat when he thrusts himself back inside you is nearly animalistic. Your nails dig into meaty shoulders, leaving behind little crescent marks that pale in comparison to what you imagine his can do. He chuckles at your shock as he thrusts into you again, apparently amused that he'd managed to catch you so off-guard. All you can do is wantonly moan and let your head loll back, drowning in the sensory experience of this humanoid beast taking you on the floor, surrounded by candles and the proof of your stupid recklessness.

A grey hand slaps down on the floor beside your head, bracing the sturdy body above you as he fucks into. Each thrust is enthusiastic and powerful, yet you can still sense some amount of restraint being utilized. Though you want him to fuck you in earnest, the small voice of reason in the back of your mind reminds you that this inhuman creature could very well kill you without even trying; you don't invite him to push harder or faster, trusting him to set a pace that won't leave you with internal damage. Turning your head to the side reveals the face of the chrome helmet he had dropped, its hollow eyes staring into your own. You swallow a hiccuped breath and turn your face back to the demon.

You don't know if he's ever looked away from your face, but regardless he meets your gaze when you return it to him. His thick eyebrows are knotted tightly over icy, half-lidded eyes which sparkle with devious delight. He huffs with each thrust into you, concentrating hard on keeping a steady rhythm while also keeping his attention on your dewey face. Somewhere in your periphery over and around the mass of the demon's hulking frame, you take note of his spaded tail rapidly thumping the floor where it's draped leisurely, the end wagging like an excitable dog's. You realize, admittedly a bit belatedly, that he's enjoying this just as much as you are. Your face pinches as you moan, shuddering against him as he pauses his rough pistoning to grind into you.

He sits up during this moment of pseudo reprieve, relieving you of his crushing weight. You gulp down full breaths again, allowing him to guide your legs down, resuming the half-elevated position from before. You can feel as each of those strange ridges drive in and out, aiding his hearty girth in stretching you out. The gentler thrusting drags his pointed cockhead across that spongey spot inside you, and as if reading your mind, he places a palm down just above your pubic bone and presses. You choke out a sobbing moan, bucking against him as he rams himself into that pressurized spot. His single hand spans a large enough area that he can maintain pressure on your lower abdomen and stimulate your clit simultaneously, looming over you like a shadow while wearing a delighted little smirk. His brows remain tightly knit, still concentrated on chasing his own pleasure as well as yours as he impales you over and over. With pupils so dilated they could almost look normal, he drinks in the sight of your spasming body, gaze lingering particularly long on where he splits you open on his cock.

Through pants and whines, you manage to work up enough strength to speak; "Y— Nngh— You feel so good."

Instantly you feel him twitch inside you in response, notice his tail whipping behind him just a little more frenetically. The hand not busy with pleasuring you rubs up the length of your torso, coming up to grope your breast as he bends forward by a fraction. You stretch slightly to grasp both of his thick wrists, while taking your lower lip between your teeth and bucking against him enthusiastically.

"Such a good girl, taking me so well," he grits out from between clenched fangs. "What a good little whore I'll make you. Pretty thing... all for me."

Your cunt flutters around him and he groans loud. His deft thumb catches your clit perfectly and you feel that welcome tension coil rapidly like a taut spring. At the prompting of your particularly noisy wail he circles his thumb harder, faster, and more pointedly until you come fully undone around him. Your thighs dig into his flanks and the walls of your pussy clench hard around his pulsing cock, gushing fluids sucking him deeper while your muscles try to expel him with the force of your orgasm. The muscles in your abdomen seize up and you curl in on yourself as pleasure rocks your twitching body, sobbing out in ecstasy and exhaustion.

The beast relentlessly fucks you through your second orgasm, and afterward. He uses both hands securely on your hips as leverage to repeatedly spear you onto himself. Nearly entirely listless as you recover from your earth-shattering orgasm, all you can bring yourself to do is rake your nails up and down his hairy forearms, admiring the muscles as they flex beneath granite toned skin. Those hard ribs along his cock rake out spasms of shivering overstimulation, bringing you to the point of overwhelmed tears again.

The grip on your hips grows punishing and you're sure bruises will begin to blossom under the pads of his clawed fingers. His flicking tail curls up in a spiral and his broad shoulders pitch forward. A mighty tremble rattles his frame in the same moment as his length twitches inside you, and you feel it as his hot release paints your insides. The man-creature roars through clenched teeth and bows forward, touching his forehead to your damp chest. His hips continue bucking as you milk the last of his considerable release.

You feel boneless in his grasp, stuffed so completely full of him that you can feel a bit of his seed trickling out around his girth. Every other breath that seeps from your lungs comes out as a pitiful mewl. The demon stirs overtop you, dragging his pierced nose up the middle of your chest to your throat. He stretches out above you, shifting your legs and his own while still keeping himself buried within you. His tail unfurls and whips back and forth in a large arc, far more animatedly than before. He licks at your steadily relaxing pulse, sucking tenderly at the thrumming spot. Your tired arms reach up and drape around his broad torso, scratching lightly at his back where muscles ripple and flex.

The demon shifts from overtop you, removing himself from your sensitive core. You feel each ridge as he pulls out, spilling a messy trail of cum out of you. Big hands paw at the nightgown still bunched up at your collarbone, drawing the gauzy thing up over your head and off your arms. He tosses it aside somewhere, yet none of the flickering candles are disturbed, as if they're all in a sustained state of suspended animation. Thunder and lightning continue to roil outside the bay windows, smothering the outside world down to the concentrated space within this solitary room. You sigh against the demon's scruffy sideburn and kiss his cheek, hung with your arms encircling his sturdy neck.

"Oh, my sweet little thing, how precious you are." He kisses your cheek in turn and then pulls back to run his hands up and down your sides like he just can't get enough. "This beautiful body... all for me, isn't it?"

You nod faintly while your eyelids flutter as he continues to affectionately pet you. He catches fast onto you increasing tiredness and chuckles.

"Come on little lamb," he coaxes, nipping gingerly at the column of your throat. "Don't fall asleep on me now, pretty girl. I'm not done with you yet."

You actually whine a little at the thought of being manhandled anymore. Your muscles ache and the hardwood floor certainly isn't an ideal place to lose your virginity to an oddly compassionate demon. Your tune slowly begins to change when he leans down to your ear, at the same time one hand slips between your legs to gather up the cum that seeped out and pump it back into you.

He drags his nose and lips over the shell of your ear, teasing you with his fangs as he whispers; "You want my infernal seed to stick, don't you?" The beast crooks his thick fingers against that special spot in your cunt, drawing out a hoarse moan. He withdraws his fingers only to splay his hand out over your stomach. "My virginal bride, your belly swollen with my pup... Tell me that's what you want."

"Mmm..." You squirm beneath him, nuzzling your face against his.

"Your words, lamb," he growls into your ear.

Another petulant whine builds up in your throat, but you resist the urge to loose it. Warmth blossoms anew in your cheeks and between your legs, scandalized and intrigued by his salaciously worded suggestion. A rationally thinking you would be horrified at the idea, but right now it's all you can do not to moan and writhe and beg the big guy to fuck you stupid again.

Yet, that's exactly what you find yourself doing anyway, despite fatigue making itself a home in your heavy limbs.

"Nngh... Yes, yes. I want that." You bite your lip and wiggle your hips, as if he needs any further enticing. "Please, I want you. Give me more."

"Good girl, good baby. Come here."

His thick arms encompass you, spreading their warmth throughout your body. He has no trouble in hoisting you up off your back, listless as you are. Nor does he have a problem with maneuvering you around like a doll once you're up. He twists you around in his arms, slotting a knee between yours to knock them apart. You jolt in surprise and he lurches you forward, rousing you from your sleepy state as he pins your front to the cold floor. Your breathing quickens, hands scrambling to push yourself out of this vulnerable position. The beast drapes himself over you before you can shift away, nuzzling into the mussed hair behind close by ear. You turn your head and strain to keep an eye on him, right cheek pressed hard to the floor. His knees keep yours spread, his weight pushing your front nearly completely flat against the wood floor. One hand snakes beneath your body to prod at your pulsing clit.

"That's a good girl," he purrs. His breath is hot on your ear. "You can do it, one more round."

Your brows pitch up and eyes screw shut is a silent moan, pussy fluttering around nothing. Your hips push back against him as he circles your abused clit, milking fresh euphoria from the sacred bundle of nerves. You feel the expansion and deflation of his broad chest against your back, his erection bobbing between your cleaved legs. His tail winds around one of your thighs, squeezing like a thin python. His other hand seeks out his cock, taking time to run the pointed tip over your reactive clit. You're not sure if it's sensitivity from your previous orgasms and the enthusiastic fucking on the demon's part, but you feel so tender to every touch. Your breasts against the floor ache and your core throbs with a desperate need— your thirst unslakable.

The demon gradually plunges himself into your soaked cunt, letting each ridge sink into you at an agonizingly slow rate. Nearly instantly those strange, inhuman protrusions drag just right against the front wall of your pussy, earning him a choked wail of ecstasy, your hips pushing back to meet his. This must be what the ribbing is for, you decide, and with that you're positively ruined for any other human man. You can never imagine anything better than this feeling of wanton yearning and fireworks he facilitates.

Keeping you snug against his front, the demon begins his brutal pounding again. Each savage thrust drives the air from your lungs in unbidden wheezes and groans. His dick batters the gummy spot within you and his thick fingers work you from the outside, generating a mind-numbing and sweetly painful euphoria. His long, hot tongue slithers along the portion of spine between your scapula, sharp teeth nipping experimentally across your left shoulder.

"You're doing so well. Just a little more, then I'll let you rest, beautiful. Just a little more."

Teeth sink into your skin and you wail in agony and ecstasy, his fingers and cock drawing out your third shuddering orgasm. Hot blood pools in the demon's mouth, running down the junction of your shoulder and neck where it drips to the floor from the curve of your jaw. The scent of sweat and blood and sex is overpowering as you gasp for breath, sobbing and moaning as you clench around his bludgeoning length.

The beast licks at the fresh bite wound, soothing the pain with his black tongue. Already the pain has begun to alleviate, replaced with a delightful sort of ache that, against your better judgement, leaves you wanting more. His hand beneath your body shifts upward, skating along your stomach to arch you up against him more effectively. After several more deep thrusts like this his hand continues its search upward. While maintaining his unforgiving pace the demon throws his weight backward and yanks you up by the throat, thick fingers effortlessly pinching the arteries at either side of your neck.

He tips backward with your back laid to his chest, still keeping your knees spread wide with his own, your ass supported by his bulky thighs. Your stomach is covered by one of his enormous hands, your neck by the other— held in place against him by his granite arms and spearing cock. Though your vision is blurry with exhaustion and rapturous tears, you can still make out the trail of fresh blood which now trickles down between your breasts. Since pulling you up the demon has bitten you again and again, devotedly laving his tongue over the bites each time. You don't even register it as pain now, only the thrill of adrenaline as it floods your overworked system and adds to your heady pleasure. You're positively drunk on him.

You reach behind you and grasp at the back of the demon's shaven head, holding onto him for stability as he rocks up into you. Straining eyes peer down the length of your own body, to where his glistening length disappears into you over and over. The wily fingers of your other hand slip to your pussy, spread around his shaft to feel in awe as he pumps into you. The mere concept of being split open like this has you moaning shamelessly and arching your throat into his palm. His stony shades of ash and charcoal contrast such an erotic difference against your human skin, human body. Your hand at the base of his neck fumbles lower, seeking out that mysterious tail that routinely enraptures you.

The beast rumbles approvingly when you finally grasp the thick base of the prehensile appendage. You stroke his tail to the rhythm of his upward thrusts, petting the charming peach fuzz and squeezing it hard when he delivers a particular aggressive plunge. Without thinking very clearly, you wind the thinner end around your palm like a rope, using it as leverage to tug.

Those knife teeth pierce your skin again where your right shoulder intersects with your neck, drinking up the virginal blood he spills with great verve and appetite. The hand at your throat slides upward to your jaw, tilting your head to face him. Your eyes flutter shut and lips part to welcome his sticky kiss. You're met with a mouthful of your own lifeblood, syphoned from his hot mouth into yours. You splutter on your shock, choking down the thick, metallic liquid he forces past your lips. It leaves a bitter tang on your tongue as he continues kissing you. His steady bucking is gradually becoming more feverish and sloppy, jostling you roughly in the cage of his arms.

"J-Just one more for me, baby. I know you can," he groans against your cheek, smearing your blood from on his mouth and nose across your flushed skin.

His hand on your stomach presses down in that particular way, stringing out that coil of tension from within you. You catch his lips and he swallows your cry, restraining your writhing and twitching as the peak of release quickly snaps. Your sucking pussy spasms and chokes out his throbbing cock, bringing him over the edge with you. The demon sinks you on his shaft as far as you can fit, making damn sure he's spurting his hot seed onto your sore cervix. He grunts and pants against your gaping mouth, lidded eyes triumphantly absorbing your fucked-out exhaustion.

He's shockingly gentle when he lifts you off his cock and bolsters you, compassionately licking the sweat and blood and wounds ringed around your shoulders and neck like a gruesome necklace. Your chest heaves, body thoroughly spent. Your body is tender and sore when the demon lays you down.

"You did so well, my perfect girl. I'm so proud of you."

The demon looms over you where he splayed you out on your back, planting soft kisses across your face. You groan, pawing at his chest hovering by your head. You feel his fingertips fondly tracing the spots where he'd bitten you, somehow scarred over already. Your heart aches, filled with a bizarre and affectionate longing for him. You hold your trembling legs together, your core puffy and overworked and weeping with his cum. It trickles around the curves of your ass, pooling on the floor beneath you where it cools; he doesn't scoop it back in this time. Your womb twinges, hips aching.

You can't imagine wanting anyone else in this way now; he is all you desire. His delirious worship of you plants itself in your mind and takes root, wheedling its way into your sense of reality like an insidious weed. He said he wouldn't take anything from you, but you have half the mind to offer your soul to him, if only for him to make good on his word and take you as his hellbride.

"Please... please stay," you whisper desperately. You weakly grab his thick arm, giving him the most pleading, demure look you can manage in this worn-out state.

He gives you a warm glance in reply, gently shaking you off. "I'm sorry, little lamb, I can't stay. We should do this again sometime."

You close your eyes when he leans in to kiss your forehead, relishing the warmth of his lips on your heated skin. When you open your eyes again the demon has vanished, despite the warm feeling of his lips still lingering on your brow.

#raaaaahhhhh im actually obsessed with how this turned out #as always I rec reading on ao3 rather than here...#the band ghost #ghost bc #aether ghoul #aether ghoul x reader #nameless ghoul x reader #goldfinch writes

36 notes · View notes

omegalomania · 1 year

Text

ive got a one free sincere poetical diatribe coupon that expires this week so im cashing it in on waxing lyrical about my favorite band for a minute cause im stupidly sleep deprived and its gonna be a long night so

the thing is this.

the thing is that maybe there isnt quite magic in this world but theres something to be said for the pure unfettered serendipity of a million little things conspiring to have certain peoples paths cross and the way this can change entire worlds. maybe i dont believe in magic but i believe in the unshakable fucking certainty that a 17 year old joe trohman had when he met a 17 year old patrick stump in a bookstore by sheer chance and listened to his demos and Knowing that he should sing despite patrick not being a singer and not particularly wanting to sing. i believe in the stone cold rock solid belief this kid had in this other kids voice to the point where he dragged his buddy over to his house to prove he had the pipes they needed. i believe in pete wentz hearing patrick stump sing in person for the first time and realizing wait, yeah, actually hes our golden fucking ticket. i believe in the last second just before patrick was about to get on the kit to record the drums for take this to your grave, andy hurley comes swinging in fresh from recording an ep with another band and knocking out every drum part damn near flawlessly. i believe in a band of scrappy dumb punk kids who grew up in the suburbs of the midwest and took over the world and didnt plan for any of it to get as big as it did. i believe in this weird fucking band with their weird fucking idiosyncrasies, this band of four guys who dont look like they should be friends let alone making music together: a heavily tattooed vegan straightedge beefcake drummer, the ambitious visionary bassist with the 50-megawatt grin, the tattoo-sleeved lanky guitarist with an inescapable rock 'n roll bent, the pixie-pale and painfully anxious frontman with the voice of a soul singer.

i believe theres a special kind of chemistry that only makes sense with the four of them, together. its the guy with the visuals and the words, this bassist who was supposed to be a lawyer or a star soccer player but instead crafts stories from the narratives he crafts in his head. its this guitarist with his love for the interleaving of sounds and ability to seamlessly jump from front-facing to incredibly restrained and his indelible blues-rock momentum. its this singer who never intended to sing but whose soaring, clear tenor is so utterly distinct that he quickly became one of the most iconic and versatile vocalists in the genre, if not in the world of music in general. its this hardcore drummer who pulls everything together and forms the throbbing heartbeat of the band, whose grit-edged metalcore backbone not even the poppiest of all pop choruses can truly file away.

i believe in this: andy hurley's unshakable faith that the band would reform during the hiatus, despite all evidence to the contrary. patrick stump writing the song that would become "miss missing you" for his solo record but then setting it aside because it didnt feel like it was for him, again, despite every indication that for all anyone knew, fall out boy was done for good. pete wentz, moved by a miserable blog post from his split-up bands singer, reaching out and sparking what was unheard of, especially for bands like them - a renaissance, a successful resurgence, and one of the best comebacks any musical act can say theyve had in decades. joe trohman picking up the phone and preparing to tell patrick stump that he wasn't ready to go back and do the band again if he wasn't going to be writing music, only for patrick to take the words out of his mouth and insist that he should be writing more and he was too talented a writer for them not to allow him space for that.

i believe in the little things. i believe in a band that was never expected to last a summer but has become an indelible part of music history, naysayers be damned. i believe in the unique chemistry of four guys who have no monetary or logistical reason to continue doing this thing aside from the fact that they love it so - they love the process of creating with one another, and they love the car crash hearts whose hearts beat in sync with theirs. i believe in joe listening to the first pass of "fake out" exactly once, picking up an acoustic guitar, and walking into record the instrumentation that ultimately pulled the entire song together in one take without thinking twice about it. i believe in andy simply knowing that "heaven, iowa" would make the final cut of the record despite patricks reticence and his not knowing how to make the song something he could say he was proud of. i believe in pete pouring some of his most vulnerable feelings into his, fearful of how well they will be accepted but making that leap nonetheless, only for the crowds to sing every single word back to him.

maybe theres no such thing as magic or fate and maybe theres no point. but i think of stardust. i think of four guys who poured so much love and time into this record and named it for stardust and i think of them as this: fistfuls of cosmic dust who all sprang from the same etiology. i think of them and its a romantic fucking notion but i allow myself this, i entertain the thought that when the cosmos formed and the detonation of planets and the dissolution of comets created that far-flung scatter of so much (for) stardust, that starry residue liberally dotting the broad span of the black, the four of them all came from the same origin point and like magnets ended up snapping together and thats the way theyve stayed. for years. for decades.

what i guess im trying to say is this: when the universe formed we all came from stardust and we will all return to stardust and i cant help but wonder if those four guys all came from the same stardust too.

like i said. its a romantic fucking notion. i believe in the little things though. and you know what they say about believers (never die).

#*making poasts #*mine #*writing #im running on no sleep here. its a long night for me #so im letting myself say some silly words #this is more than i usually pour into this blog but idk. ive always considered myself more of a writer than an artist #so i guess i should start embracing that here a little bit more #this is rebloggable or whatever i dont care. if it resonates thats great if not thats ok too

91 notes · View notes

laurenairay · 1 year

Text

gotta trust how you feel inside - J. Skinner

Summary: Jeff Skinner had never met anyone like Cameron Marlow before. Turns out, he had a lot to learn.

A story of accepting someone for who they are, as well as accepting yourself.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston’s summer fic exchange 2k23, for @nhl-stories! I decided to do something a little different than I’ve ever done before, based off of your prompts and answers to my questions, so I really hope you like this. I researched so many articles and blog posts and videos on coming out and acceptance and all the different ways people have felt and reacted in their own journeys, so I really hope I did Cam’s story justice. Also heavily inspired by Mae Martin and their wonderful self!

Warnings: angst, slow burn, friends to lovers, fear of coming out as non-binary, change of pronouns part-way through.

Words: 4.8k

Title from Green Eyes by Arlo Parks.

Thank you to @tippedbykreider for being a wonderful beta reader!

Some of these folks wanna make you cry, But you gotta trust how you feel inside, And shine, and shi-ine, yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Jeff! Pizza or tacos?”

“Tacos please!”

“On it!”

Jeff smiled to himself as his neighbour Cameron disappeared from her balcony, back into the apartment below his. Their Friday night tradition of take-out and movies – whenever he was in town, that was – was something he treasured. Most of his teammates over 30 years old had a wife and kids at home for their Friday nights, but not Jeff. Maybe it was something that bothered him a lot when he was younger, not having someone to come back home to like everyone else seemed to, but since he’d been traded to Buffalo, it was something he was learning to let go of. There were plenty of other things in his life, plenty of other people, to fill what society deemed him missing, and he appreciated all of them. Loved all of them.

Cameron Marlow included.

She had been a breath of fresh air when he’d first moved into their shared apartment building back in summer 2018. Single, like he was, and only a year younger, so at least he didn’t feel completely out of place. And she was an introvert much like he was slowly growing into, meaning he didn’t have to put on a fake extroverted energy all the time, didn’t have to be ‘on’ 100%. The two of them bonded over just wanting someone to hang out with sometimes, someone who wouldn’t judge a depleted social battery. He knew that her work was intense, that she was damn good at her job too, and that the hyper-focus she had to have on all the time during her workdays left her pretty drained by the time she got home, much like hockey sometimes left him socially inept, so he appreciated having her as a friend he could just be himself with.

It didn’t hurt that she was blonde, blue-eyed, and completely & utterly beautiful. But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now. Cameron was so out of his league it wasn’t funny. Her intense corporate work aside, she was so interesting as a person that he barely felt like he could keep up. She was part of a book club, reading fiction about all kinds of different topics that he barely understood, leaving him feeling like more of a dumbass every time he attempted to follow along. She always volunteered during Pride month at the parade, making sure teenagers felt safe and secure and hopeful. She introduced him to plays and movies and poetry readings that he never would’ve thought of going to. He tried to keep up with her, loving the time they spent together too much not to, and it always seemed like she appreciated it anyway.

At least her dating life was as much of a disaster as his was. That was always something he could console himself with. Her type seemed to be tall blonde beefcakes, typical douchey gym bros, and every time a series of dates ended with the two of them eating ice-cream on one of their sofas, Jeff felt their friendship bond grow just that little bit more. He knew that his friendship with her was one of the best and closest and most genuine friendships he’d ever had, and over the past five years he’d grown to cherish it over anything else.

Cameron Marlow was in his life to stay, and there was nothing he ever wanted to change about that.

“Alright, tacos should be here in 30 minutes. Do you have beer?”

“Of course, I’m not a heathen,” Jeff scoffed.

Cameron just laughed, blonde waves swinging over her shoulder as she shut his apartment door behind her. She was dressed similar to him, tank top and sweatpants with fluffy socks, and she wasted no time in pulling her hair back in a messy bun after passing him a beer and sitting down next to him on his oversized sofa.

By the time their tacos arrived – Jeff went down to the lobby to pick them up, of course – Cameron had all but sunk into the sofa, all tension disappearing from her body. It was a good look for her, to be honest, peaceful and relaxed and content. And the fact that it was in his apartment that she was able to feel this way? Well, that meant everything to him.

However, by the time they’d finished eating, Cameron had flicked through her phone a few times, and a frown had grown on her face, her body a line of stiff tension again. He didn’t think it was because of him – he knew he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary to her – but it still concerned him all the same.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Jeff said, “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if you’d want to hear it?”

Jeff found himself frowning as he shook his head. Why would he not want to hear what she had to say?

“I always want to hear what you have to say? Why would I not?”

Cameron seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes filled with something that he couldn’t read. Despite their five years of friendship, there was still so much he didn’t know about her, he knew that much. But why would she think he wouldn’t want to know what was bothering her?

“It’s just…okay, so you know I’m part of a book club, right?” Cameron blurted.

“Yes.”

He didn’t have a clue where this was going, but he was just going to roll with it. The book club met every other Sunday, he knew that much.

“Well we’re reading I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver, and naturally the conversation turned political,” Cameron started.

“As it would, sure,” Jeff nodded.

He didn’t know if it would be rude to pull out his phone to google what the book was about while she was talking, so he just decided to wait to see if she would explain.

“And like, a few of the group can relate to the main character Ben’s struggle, right? Coming out as non-binary to his parents only to be immediately kicked out of the house, so the topic was pretty personal for some of my friends…”

So that was what the book was about. Huh. He could only imagine how difficult that kind of situation would be. And Cameron said it had also happened to some of her friends? Damn.

“…and with the political climate right now, things just got so heated. As it would.”

“As it would,” Jeff agreed.

Well, not that he actually knew much about the political climate around gender. It was gender she was talking about, right?

“Gender is always an emotionally difficult topic,” he said, hedging his bet.

“Exactly!” she nodded.

Oh good, he’d gotten it right.

“The discussion is still bothering you though?” he prompted, eyes flicking to the phone she’d put down on the coffee table.

“Well, yeah, because New York still has so far to go in terms of making things equal for non-binary people. Like, shit, it took until late 2021 for driving licenses to get non-binary options on, and even now official government departments might not have options for all forms until 2024!”

“That seems unfairly restrictive?” Jeff said, frowning.

“It is! And of course, it’s started so many debates and discussions from hate groups and just generally horrible people about whether any of it should even be allowed. Like, what the fuck? All these absolute fuck-up debates about non-binary recognition, how non-binary people are basically invisible, it makes me so mad! How is it okay that a tiny group of people decide that I don’t exist?”

As she wound herself up angrier and angrier, Jeff froze slightly at Cameron’s words. That I don’t exist.

Not they.

Cameron was talking about herself.

No, if Cameron was talking about herself then that would mean she was non-binary…

Whatever was showing on his face made Cameron stop in confusion, before absolute horror flooded her expression.

“I mean, I, heh-”

Cameron cut herself off with a whimper, eyes desperately darting around like she was looking around for an exit from his apartment, and in that moment, Jeff’s heart broke a little. Cameron was trying to get away from him, because she was scared of his reaction. Scared of him. That was the last thing he ever wanted.

Jeff swallowed heavily, before smiling lightly. “I can’t imagine you ever being invisible. No-one should ever make you feel that way.”

The tears that filled Cameron’s eyes caused Jeff to panic slightly. Had he said the wrong thing? Had he ruined their friendship? Had he ruined…everything else?

“Fuck. Fuck, that wasn’t how I ever wanted it to come out,” Cameron murmured, “You don’t hate me?”

The last few whispered words broke his heart all over again. Jeff quickly shook his head as he put his beer down, taking Cameron’s hands in his.

“I could never hate you. I may not understand much about what you’re going through. Like, as a non-binary person. But I could never hate you, okay? You’re still Cameron to me,” Jeff said firmly.

Because it was true.

He might not know much about what it meant to be non-binary, or understand Cameron’s struggles, but the fact that she was scared he would hate her said all that he needed to know. Cameron was still his friend, still the same person he’d always known – he just knew a little more now, that was all, right?

Cameron bit her bottom lip for a moment, seeming to hesitate about something, so Jeff just squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“Actually, I prefer just Cam,” Cameron said.

“Okay. Okay, Cam it is,” Jeff nodded.

“And they/them pronouns,” Cameron added.

Cam.

They/Them.

Cam. They/Them.

He could absolutely do that.

“Cam. They/Them. Got it,” Jeff said firmly, still smiling.

Cam seemed to hesitate for a moment again, looking confused now.

“Just like that? You have no questions or reluctance or anything?” Cam asked, frowning.

“Well, no? Not really? I mean, you know yourself better than I do, right? So if you tell me that you won’t be using she/her any more then that’s not my choice? It’s you and how you are in yourself. It’s only right that I follow what you need,” Jeff said, frowning in response, “Is that not okay? I know I’ve probably been getting things wrong for years now, but I’ll do better?”

Cam laughed softly in disbelief, shaking their head.

“Of course it’s okay. And it’s only been a couple of years really but that’s because I purposely didn’t tell you. Haven’t really told many people, if I’m being honest. I just…I wasn’t expecting you to just accept it straight away? Like, you’re a hockey player right, and…”

“And hockey players have a reputation of being homophobic assholes? There’s a few prominent names popping out lately, yeah. But that’s not me. My older sisters played hockey on women’s teams while we were growing up and there were a few lesbians out and proud with their friends, so it’s not like I haven’t been around the LGBTQ+ community? And I know that non-binary is your gender, not anything with your sexuality, but what I mean is that I’m not that kind of asshole?” Jeff explained, “I might be a dumbass hockey player most the time but I’m not that full stereotype.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have painted you with that brush. I’m sorry,” Cam said, wincing.

“It’s okay. No, really it is. I get that you have to expect the worst from people and I hate that you have to, but you don’t have to with me, okay? I’ve got a lot to learn, I know that. So much. But you don’t have to be scared or nervous around me. I promise,” Jeff said, smiling.

Cam smiled shakily, nodding their head, finally losing a bit of tension in their shoulders.

“Thank you. I just…thank you,”

“I accept you for who you are, Cam Marlow. Exactly how you are,” Jeff said firmly.

Cam choked out a sob, hand flying up to cover their mouth, and it was all Jeff could do to let go of their hands and open his arms wide. Cam wasted no time in flinging themselves forward into his body, letting Jeff hug them as they cried into the crook of his neck. Jeff felt tears sting at his own eyes, but he just held them tight, rubbing their back to reassure them.

Everything would change from here, he knew that. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

Skinner Siblings

Jeff: A friend of mine recently came out to me as non-binary. Obviously I support them and I'm so proud of them but I haven't got a clue where to start to understand it all better? I just want to be a good friend.

Andrea: Firstly, congrats to your friend. I won't ask who because that's none of my business. Secondly, do you want some resources?

Jeff: Yeah I won't say their name because they haven't said I could. But yes please to resources!

Erica: Good start on using their correct pronouns Jeffy.

Jeff: I'm trying. It's literally the least I can do.

Erica: More than a lot of people would! Just as a tip, more than anything else, follow whatever your friend says is right for them. And if you mess up, correct yourself and move on. You are a good friend, even just by wanting to learn.

Jillian: Love you Jeffy. Proud of you!

Andrea: I’m proud of you too. I found a bunch of resources for definitions and reading material and even blog posts. Let me email you.

“Sex is what you’re assigned at birth, based on bodily characteristics. Gender can be completely separate from the sex you’ve been assigned at birth. That’s the best thing about gender: it’s free, flexible and completely yours to decide.”

“A recent Stonewall study found that 31% of nonbinary people have experienced hate crime as a result of their gender identity.”

“60% of Americans have at least heard about gender-neutral pronouns, many people may still be kind of unsure of what to say or do. According to the survey results, 52% of Americans report that they would be somewhat or very comfortable using gender-neutral pronouns with someone they know. But 47% said that they would be somewhat or very uncomfortable doing so.”

“A common misconception is that all non-binary identities sit somewhere in the middle of male and female, and that if you’re non-binary you’ll fit neatly into a box labelled ‘androgynous’. But this really isn’t the case – and one of the most liberating things about being non-binary is that there are no set rules around how you express or experience your gender.”

Jeff’s head spun as he read through all the resources that his sister Andrea sent over to him. There was so much new information to digest, and yet still not enough somehow. Sure, GLAAD was a great place to start for definitions, but he knew there was still so much further for him to go.

Baby steps though, right?

If Cam could take things step by step, so could he.

One of the first things that Jeff did was to add his pronouns to his twitter and Instagram bios. A simple he/him. It wasn’t much, but it was a start – and at least hopefully, if anyone asked him (not that he expected they would), then he could start a positive conversation about pronouns and representation. It was, quite literally, the least he could do. It was also likely that Cam would never notice either, but if they did then he wanted them to know that this was another way he could support them – it was important that everyone and anyone could use the pronouns they knew were correct for themselves, he knew that now. So if he could show people that with his level of publicity then he absolutely would.

He had to use his privilege for something good, right?

In the weeks following Cam’s accidental non-binary announcement, aside from his own research journey, it seemed like a new side of Cam’s life opened that he’d never been privy to before. Sure, he’d liked and treasured the time that the two of them spent alone over the past five years, but now it seemed like they were comfortable enough to let him into a whole new level. He wasn’t entitled to it in the slightest, he knew that, so he made that they knew exactly how much he appreciated these new steps they were taking.

Cam also opened up more to him about their discovery journey. About how they had felt just ever-so-slightly wrong in their body for so long, not understanding why until they stumbled across an LGBTQ+ poetry slam one night not long after he had moved into their apartment building, not knowing what to do about how they felt until a few years ago. Cam had insisted that they hadn’t kept things separate from him maliciously – it was more of a case that they had still been figuring it out for themselves while they were getting to know him too, and part of their process had been compartmentalising. He wasn’t mad. He literally had no right to be, but he genuinely wasn’t mad. The fact that they finally felt comfortable enough with him and within themselves to take down those barriers? That was all that he cared about.

They had even introduced him openly to a few of their friends. Jeff hadn’t understood the side-eyes and the smirks or even the money exchanged between a couple of the group, but he finally in on the jokes about Cam being a social disaster, finally able to have them smiling at him like he was in on the secret. He was part of a whole new world – one that confused him heavily sometimes, but one that he appreciated being able to be within – and he loved that his friendship with Cam had only grown from strength to strength with each new thing he learned about them.

None of that changed how their smile still gave him butterflies.

“You cut your hair.”

That was the first thing that came out of his mouth when Cam opened the front door of their apartment. It had been only a little over a month since their unintentional coming out, but it seemed like each day Cam was a little more settled in their skin, and it made Jeff feel so happy that he got to be part of that. Their hair though – that was a big change.

“I…did. Is it bad?” Cam asked, a little nervous.

Cam’s hair had previously been down to their waist, naturally tousled and dirty blonde. But now…now it was short. Super short. A pixie cut, maybe? At least that’s what he remembered from one of his sister’s magazines. A white-blonde pixie cut. Huh.

“Not bad. Like, at all. It really suits you,” Jeff said firmly, as he walked past them into their apartment.

“You’re not just saying that?” Cam asked hopefully.

“I’m a really bad liar, you know that,” Jeff shrugged, smiling a little sheepishly as Cam laughed, “And I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It’s different, sure. But it feels like you.”

Cam exhaled shakily, shoulders losing a little tension as they nodded. “That’s what I thought. That it feels like me, more than anything else ever has.”

Jeff hesitated slightly as some of the reading he’d done came back to him, before he took a deep breath to steel himself.

“Was this a gender dysphoria thing? Is there still anything else you want to do to feel more comfortable in your body?” he asked.

Cam’s eyes widened slightly before they smiled fondly at him. “You really have done your reading, haven’t you?”

“I just…wanted to be a good friend,” Jeff said, feeling a little awkward.

Was he not meant to have tried to learn more? Did Cam not want that?

“Oh Jeff, you are one of the best friends a person could ever ask for,” Cam said, shaking their head as they smiled, letting Jeff breathe a little sigh of relief.

“You deserve it,” Jeff shrugged.

Interestingly, Cam blushed a little, before they laughed softly, moving to pull some coffee mugs out of the kitchen cupboard.

“Right, to answer your questions. The hair was kind of a gender dysphoria thing? My long hair just felt so feminine, and that obviously isn’t me anymore. Or maybe was never me? I don’t know, I’m still figuring out how I feel about it. In terms of anything else…I’m not trans. I don’t want to transition from female to male, because I genuinely don’t feel like either of them. That isn’t my journey. I’ve been dressing pretty androgynously for a few years so that covers most of what I feel like I need? And it’s not like my boobs are particularly big anyway so I can just wear a tighter tank top if I have days where they are a trigger,” Cam explained.

Jeff’s eyes dropped to their chest before he could even stop himself, and he felt his cheeks flare in horror at his reaction as he quickly looked back up to their face. What was wrong with him? Why would he…bleurgh.

Cam politely ignored his reaction, their mouth quirking in a slight smile.

“Periods might be an issue I’ll have to face at some point, but that’s something I’ll deal with as I get to it,” they shrugged.

He’d heard all the horrors of periods over the years from his sisters, so while he wasn’t quite desensitised, he didn’t grimace.

“There’s birth control you can go on to stop them for a few years though, right? Like, the implant or the coil?” Jeff said, tilting his head, “That’s always an option.”

Cam’s eyes widened slightly again, before they shook their head. “You are a gem, Jeff Skinner. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

Jeff found his cheeks heating up again, but he just smiled, shrugging. It’s not like he was looking for a gold star for being a half-decent human being after all.

Cam finally finished making their coffees, sliding Jeff’s over the counter to him while they sat down on the stool opposite.

“Oh, here, I got you something,” Jeff said, reaching into his bag, “It’s a little lame now that I think about it, but I already bought it so here we go.”

“This is…a cupcake?”

“A coming out cupcake. In your colours,” Jeff nodded, smiling.

White, yellow, purple and black swirled icing on a vanilla cupcake, the colours of the non-binary flag, from a tiny LGBTQ+ friendly bakery that he’d found in the city. The day he’d ordered it, he remembered the tiny smile that cracked on the terrifying butch woman’s face behind the counter, probably because he’d been rambling about wanting to celebrate and support Cam. He’d tried to find a date in the last month that felt right, but with Cam still settling into themselves publicly combined with his travelling schedule, it had taken longer than he wanted. But when he’d picked it up this morning he felt good about it. It might only be a silly little thing, but Cam loved cupcakes, right? So it felt good just to show Cam a little appreciation.

“This might be the sweetest thing ever. My god, Jeff. Why?”

“You deserve something nice? To mark this new chapter? The world is full of terrifying things that happen to people when they come out as non-binary. I’ve read some really awful blog posts about people whose lives were turned upside down just for being brave enough to be themselves. And I know you’re going to have to keep coming out over and over and over again even in just the tiniest of ways, so this is just me saying that I see you and I appreciate you.”

“Damn it Jeff, you’re going to make me cry again,” Cam

“Sorry?” he offered.

Cam just laughed, shaking their head as tears sprung to their eyes.

“I just hope that coming out to my parents will be as smooth as coming out to you was,” Cam said softly.

“You aren’t out to your parents?”

“No,” Cam murmured, shaking their head, “I’m so nervous.”

“Hey, no, don’t be, okay? Your parents love you,” Jeff said, frowning.

“You know just as well as I do how badly parents can react. It’s such an unknown reaction. And it’s not like they would’ve had any kind of idea that this is how I felt about myself over the past few years, right? No build up or lead in that they would have to prepare themselves,” Cam sighed.

They were right. Jeff had read the blog posts, the articles, the statistics. He hated that Cam had to go through this, but it wasn’t his place to pretend that everything was going to be a-okay.

“All you can do is be honest with them. That’s literally it,” Jeff said softly.

“I’m 30 years old, I shouldn’t be this scared to tell my parents who I really am,” they said, laughing a little dryly.

“It’s a natural reaction, Cam. From what I understand anyway. You love them – they’re your parents. You don’t want to lose them, it makes sense. But you also wouldn’t be doing yourself justice in not living your truth,” Jeff said, smiling sadly, “I’m here for you, no matter what happens, okay?”

They nodded, sniffing slightly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything and more. Never let anyone tell you differently,” Jeff said fiercely.

Cam choked out a laugh, blinking away their tears as they nodded again.

“Alright, if Jeff Skinner says it, then it must be true,” they said, wry smile on their face.

Jeff just grinned, making them laugh properly this time. He couldn’t bear the thought of them feeling like they didn’t deserve the whole world. Even if it wasn’t him that was able to give it to them, he still wanted them to be happy. That was all that mattered, right?

Then Cam’s smile slid into something a little more serious. A little more earnest. Jeff finished his coffee, sliding the cup to the side as he waited for them to collect their thoughts, knowing they would speak when they were ready.

“You make me want to be brave,” Cam said softly.

Well that was the last thing he expected. Those sweet simple words made his whole chest warm with happiness. He made them want to be brave? They were already so brave all on their own.

“Me?” Jeff asked, surprised.

But Cam just nodded, glancing over at him with their big blue eyes as they bit their bottom lip, and the look in their eyes made his heart start beating a little faster. Oh. Oh. Him?

“Me? Really?” he asked, a little breathless.

“Yeah, Jeff. Who else?” Cam said, cheeks flushing lightly.

Jeff inhaled sharply, reaching his hand across the kitchen counter to rest on theirs, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he felt like it would fly out. Was this what his sisters meant when they’d described how it felt when they fell in love? Was he finally getting his chance to love someone too? When Cam clutched his hand back, smiling back at him so sweetly and shyly, he knew he had his answer. This was Cam – his heart had fallen for them a long time ago.

“You make me want to be brave too.”

He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. He knew that the two of them would face so many questions, so much scrutiny, and most likely so much hatred. But what Jeff knew most of all was that he wanted to try. Cam was worth that. Cam was worth everything.

“Hey Cap, do you mind if I bring my partner Cam to the end of season barbecue?”

“Cameron? Your neighbour? Of course bud, glad the two of you finally got your shit together. How is she?”

“They.”

“What?”

“They. Not she. And it’s Cam, not Cameron.”

“Huh. Okay, good to know. Do you want me to say anything to the guys?”

“No, I’m just going to introduce them as they are. If anyone is shitty, I’ll deal with it.”

“Alright bud, but let me know if you want any help. You’re not alone, okay? Either of you. I look forward to meeting Cam. And Jeff? I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. And, uh, thanks.”

“Any time.”

Baby steps.

#my writing #jeff skinner fic #summer fic exchange 2k23 #jeff skinner fanfic #jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner x oc #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #non-binary oc

51 notes · View notes

baby-xemnas · 21 days

Note

i didn't add ussop bc i really like his design after the ts but yeah i miss My noodle

Aldo chopper was cuter before

ye fair fair. like im not one to tell that beefcake beam is bad, i do that shit to all my faves so liking hugesopp is valid. i just enjoy how pre ts hes got that REGULAR NORMAL GUY aesthetic. his character moving elsewhere from that makes sense tho ofc

AND FAT CHOPPER WAS PERFECT

its crazy how u could actually buy him as a 15 year old sheltered nerd boy now hes just a moe creature who looks 8....poor thing.

damn...thinking abt zou scene and oda throwing a deer bitch at him which is one of my favorite post ts moments and imagine if it was this chopper??? would be even more of a hit with its niche audience (me)

#anonymous

15 notes · View notes

brandstifter-sys · 30 days

Text

Webs We Weave

@dukexietyweek 2024 Day 6 - Rockstars + Stuffed Animals

Word Count: 3016 (Ao3)

Rating: T

Characters: Virgil, Remus, Patton, Remy, Andy, Dragon Witch (Millie)

Pairings: Dukexiety, Remdy (Shorts Sleepxiety)

Warnings: ftm!remus, hitch hiking, anxiety, mild threats, sex mention

Remus is an avid fan of Webs We Weave, and his internet crush just so happened to give him to tickets to every show on their latest tour. Naturally, this disaster fanboy is going to make it to all those shows without questioning his friend's connections, even if he has to hitchhike to get there! But hitchhiking can have unexpected consequences!

---

Remus was not just an average fanboy. He was obsessed with his favorite band, their music and seeing them perform. Every show was amazing and he craved the rush of the crowd. So what if he was following the band on tour by any means necessary? He wasn't stalking them, just chasing the sound and the thrill.

His own brother couldn't stop him when he got tickets to every show, not even asking how he afforded them. They were gifts from a friend from Tumblr, and crush if he were being honest. And they were legit! He swore he would bend over any way xxelectric-spider-rainxx wanted him to!

After three nights of musical ecstasy, Remus was perched in a big rig truck, headed for the next city on his list. The driver, a bespectacled man with a heart of gold, was kind enough to offer him a meal on the drive.

“So, kiddo, you said you were going to meet your friend and go to a concert, what group is worth the risk?” the driver, Patton asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Have you heard of Webs We Weave?” Remus asked and took a sip of his slushie. He could go on about them if he wanted, from Millie Drake's fire vocals, to Remy Traum’s bass riffs. But he didn't have to.

“Have I ever!” Patton laughed, “My son is in that band!”

“He is?!” Remus gawked. He wasn't digging into their personal lives, but he knew a lot about their back stories, except for Virgil Hawthorne. That beefcake drummer was so mysterious.

“Yuppers!” Patton giggled, “I can't tell you how proud I am of him for making it so far with his friends! He would spend all his free time playing those drums until my ex got a headache!”

“You’re Virgil's dad?” Remus gasped. Now that he thought about it, Patton had a similar smile and build to the drummer, only he was a little bigger in the middle. He could believe it.

“That’s my boy! He's such a sweet kid, sent me a backstage pass good for every show on this tour! I feel bad I won't be able to make any of them, but he knows how much I support him!” Patton said with a sly grin, “If you want it, it's in the glovebox, right next to his old bunny.”

“Really?” Remus gasped and set his drink in the cupholder before he made a mess. He opened the glovebox and saw the pass and an old black bunny toy that was well loved, obviously stitched together with white floss. Its eyes were white X's and its left ear was missing fuzz on the tip.

“Yeah! I'd hate for it to go to waste, and I think he'd like you,” Patton responded, “And if you do take it, can you give him Mr. Fuzzy? He loves that bunny!”

“You trust me not to keep it?” Remus gawked.

“Yeah, you don't seem like the crazed type of fan who would. Plus you need to have faith in people.”

“That’s really idealistic,” Remus said and carefully tucked the pass and bunny into his bag, “But you don't have to worry, I'll get it to him. It's the least I can do for the ride and food!”

“Thanks Remus,” Patton said and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, “Mind if I put on some dad tunes?”

“Classic rock?” Remus grinned, “Only if you let me sing along!”

Patton beamed and turned on the radio. He was happy he decided to pick up this hitchhiker, and happier that he might've found Virgil's newest friend.

---

“Ugh, you have to stop pacing, Virge!” a young man with shaggy brunette hair groaned from where he lounged on the couch.

“I can't help it!” Virgil, a large man with even shaggier black and purple hair, snapped. He was chewing his thumbnail and walking the length of the dressing room. The other two band members were getting coffee, leaving the two most anxious messes to wait.

“You'll run out of energy before we go on. Isn't there something else you can do?” Andy groaned and adjusted his jeans.

“I left Mr. Fuzzy with my dad and running a lap around the building will drain me faster. What else can I do, Andy?”

“I don't know—why are you freaking out?” Andy huffed and crossed his arms, hugging his chest for some security.

“I haven't heard anything from them in days, and their blog is all queued. What if they hate me? What if they're in trouble? What if they're just busy or too excited to go online? What if they show up at this show? I won't be able to recognize them. What if they're a creep? What if I put us all in danger?” Virgil rambled. Andy rolled his eyes.

“You gave them a ticket to every show. They're bound to show up at some point.”

“My dad got tickets to every show and he's never shown up,” Virgil argued and ran a hand through his hair.

“You didn't notice, did you?”

“Notice what?”

“There's been one person at all of the shows so far in the front row. Your Tumblr buddy is probably taking advantage of those tickets.”

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I've been shirtless on stage every time!” Virgil yelped and lunged at Andy, grabbing him by the shoulders, eyes bugging out of his skull.

“Dude. We only had three shows, all in the same area. I'm not jumping to conclusions yet,” Andy yelped. Virgil was too strong for his own good.

Virgil immediately let go of him and shrank back. He knew he was overreacting but he couldn't calm down. He flopped on the couch and groaned.

“Why do you care so much? Especially about the shirt thing? You don't know what they look like or their pronouns,” Andy huffed, “Don't tell me—you have a crush.”

Virgil curled into himself and grumbled. He couldn't stop himself from feeling. He was freaking out over a crush like some teenager and he was making a mess of his band.

It was so stupid. He only knew their username, krakendickenpuss, and that they could handle his bluntness and his rants. They actually liked talking to him about monsters, movies, and music. They were the first person in a long time he could connect with, without his mild game getting in the way. They were lewd and flirty but they never crossed any lines, and they were just so adorable!

“Oh god, you do,” Andy gasped and got up. He needed some water and a snack and the vending machine was outside.

“I'll grab a gatorade for you,” Andy said and opened the door.

“Hi!”

Andy yelped and jumped back. He was not expecting a little man to be at the door with his fist raised, especially not one he swore he saw at the last couple of shows. Virgil jumped to his feet and got between Andy and the intruder, ready to fight.

“Oh! Perfect!” the man cheered, “Millie and Remy said you were here!”

“Who are you and how did you get back here?” Virgil snarled, ready to fight. A good scuffle might have been just the thing he needed to calm his nerves.

“I'm Remus,” the man said with a shiver. Virgil assumed it was just evidence this guy was intimidated. Remus was enthralled—what could be hotter than a big strong guy getting protective of his friends? A big strong shirtless guy getting protective of his friends!

“Virge—” Andy muttered, his heart still racing.

“I can handle this,” Virgil said curtly and nudged him towards the couch before his knees gave out.

“I was looking for you since Venomousse got off the stage! I need to give you something! I promise it's not dangerous!” Remus beamed. He was damn cute, and Virgil hated that.

“How did you get backstage?” Virgil pressed and loomed over him menacingly. They didn't sell backstage passes, not even for the press.

“I have a pass!” Remus chirped and held up his lanyard with the pass.

“Where did you get that?” Virgil snapped and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting poor, aroused Remus off the ground.

“Your dad gave it to me! He's a really nice guy! He gave me a ride and I didn't even have to offer any suckies!” Remus said without an inkling of fear. He would have killed to get socked in the jaw by his favorite drummer! He would kill for this man to do so much more than that!

“What?!”

“I know! He's a good guy! He asked me to give you something!” Remus said, “So can you put me down? You're stretching my binder.”

“If you hurt him, I swear I'll—”

“Call him. He should be fine,” Remus cut him off, “My binder won't be if you keep holding me like this. I don't have another one with me! Unless you want to see these lumps—all you have to do is say so!”

Virgil immediately dragged him into the dressing room and dropped him on the couch by Andy. Remus landed with a thud and scrambled to get his gym bag off his back.

Andy watched him dig through his bag when Virgil called his dad. He was pacing again and biting his thumb.

“Heya kiddo!” Andy could hear Patton greeting his son, “Sorry I couldn't make it tonight! I just crossed into the next state!”

“Dad, are you okay?” Virgil gasped.

“I'm not in Oklahoma!” Patton giggled, “But I'm alright. Are you okay? You sound stressed.”

“Did you pick up a hitchhiker?” Virgil asked and bit his lip. He didn't even notice Remus pulling something out of his bag.

“I did, but don't worry, I dropped him off and I'm safe. Actually, he was headed to your concert, so I sent him with something to give you since you probably need it,” Patton said brightly, “His name is Remus, he's short and stocky, has a little mustache. I think he was wearing green shorts and a black tank top.”

“What did you give him?” Virgil demanded, getting even more tense by the second.

“This!” Remus butted in loudly and held up the stuffed bunny for Virgil to see.

Virgil’s jaw dropped. There was no way this Remus guy was holding Mr. Fuzzy.

“Oh it sounds like you found him!” Patton said over the phone. It was hard to miss Remus' voice!

“I gotta go, Kiddo, break a leg tonight!” Patton said after a beat of silence.

“Thanks, Dad,” Virgil choked out and hung up the phone. Virgil hung up and stowed his phone almost robotically.

He stared at Remus for a long moment, trying to make sense of the situation. Andy was uncomfortable with the silence, but Remus seemed to be at ease.

The tension snapped when Virgil snatched the toy from Remus and held it to his chest.

“Tell anyone about this and you're dead,” Virgil growled and rubbed the bunny’s ear between his fingers.

“About what? How you're taller and beefier than the photos let on? That you got aggressive enough to make me cream my pants?” Remus jeered and wiggled his shoulders, “Because only one other person will know what happened when I met you! And they won't believe me anyway!”

“He's having a really anxious moment,” Andy cut in, “He really isn't aggressive. Whoever you plan on telling, mention that part.”

“Who are you telling?” Virgil asked warily as he finally started calming down.

“A friend on Tumblr. They gave me the tickets so I want to tell them all about it when I don't have to watch my phone battery!” Remus beamed.

Virgil's face blanched.

“Your friend gave you tickets, plural?” Andy asked with a smirk, “So we'll see you at other shows?”

“Hell yeah! I'll be at every show! I can't believe they could give me so many tickets!” Remus beamed, “So don't get any ideas about calling me a stalker!”

“Oh god, you plan on hitchhiking to all of them?” Andy gawked and got up. He still needed a snack, and he had to find Remy and Millie.

“Yup! But I'm a tough puppy! I can handle anyone!” Remus beamed. Virgil stared at him like he was insane.

“Geez,” Andy sighed, “I'm hitting the vending machine. Do you want anything?”

“Gatorade or iced tea if they have it,” Remus said and dug into his bag. He could pay for his own drink!

“It's on me,” Andy cut him off and headed for the door. Once Andy was gone, Virgil’s anxiety started creeping over him again. Virgil was going to kill Andy.

“So, uh, your friend on Tumblr gave you tickets?” Virgil muttered, not daring to look at Remus.

“Yeah!! Electric Spider Rain has some crazy connections! When I finally get to meet them I'm totally smooching their breath away! I would've done that even without the tickets,” Remus giggled.

“Krakendickenpuss?” Virgil asked, praying that he didn't just threaten his crush.

Remus squealed and pounced, intending to hug him on the floor. He wrapped his arms and legs around the drummer and rubbed his cheek on Virgil's shoulder.

“I can't believe it's really you!” Remus squealed, “Who would've thought that the person I've been talking to online is actually the sickest drummer in the world!”

“I can't believe you decided to hitchhike around to get to every show without telling me,” Virgil scoffed incredulously.

“You would have tried to stop me!” Remus giggled, “And then I would have never gotten to meet you!”

Virgil set Remus on his feet, only for Remus to hug his waist and nuzzle his chest. Virgil was beet red but gingerly hugged back with one arm. Mr. Fuzzy didn't need to be crushed any further.

“You know I can't let you hitchhike to get to the rest of the shows without worrying,” Virgil said softly.

“But I don't want to miss the rest of the shows! You guys are my favorite band and you gave me all those tickets!” Remus whined, “And I want to spend time with you in person!”

“Then join us on the bus,” a woman said as she entered the room. She had a knowing smirk on her ruby lips and long dark hair. She had two guys trailing her, a twink in sunglasses and Andy.

“Millie, you can't be serious,” Virgil huffed, “What if we get in trouble for kidnapping or worse?”

“My brother knows I'm hitchhiking so you don't have to worry about that!” Remus pipped up, refusing to let go of Virgil.

“I'm serious, we talked about it. I would rather have some mild trouble with the law than him getting hurt,” Millie shrugged, “You would've suggested it too.”

Virgil couldn't blush any harder. Not only was Milie suggesting bringing Remus along, but she and Remy could see Mr. Fuzzy in his arm. There was no way out of this.

“As long as he doesn't knock you up, it's fine,” Remy added and sipped on his iced coffee.

“So it's fine,” Virgil muttered, “Since that's impossible.”

“It's not impossible the other way around!” Remus jeered, “But I'll behave! Even if you're shirtless and sweaty!” To make things worse, he rubbed his face against Virgil's chest.

“Since that's settled, introductions?” Millie hummed and sat down. Andy dragged Remy away from the dressing room, probably to tell him to keep his mouth shut about the stuffed animal.

“I'm Remus! Remus Reyes Cuesta!” the little imp beamed and finally let go of Virgil, “And his internet friend!”

Millie narrowed her eyes at him and studied his face.

“Is your brother Roman?”

“Yup! How did you know?”

“Do you remember Millicent Wieczorek?” she hummed. Remus' face lit up.

“No way! Is that you? You kicked his ass in middle school! He totally deserved it, so I'm not mad! I was so sad when you had to move away! What are the odds we meet again here?”

“Yeah, he can ride with us. He's safe. Just like Mr. Fuzzy,” Millie said to Virgil.

“Uh,” Virgil hesitated. Millie shrugged and grinned at him.

“I still sleep with Barfolomew the cat dragon. I'm not judging you. Remy might, but his boytoy is grilling him. Actually I should make sure they aren't making out in a closet. You two have fun.”

With that she got up and left Remus and Virgil alone. Virgil was absolutely mortified.

“Sit! Sit!” Remus chirped and patted the seat next to him. Virgil reluctantly sat down and let Remus lean on him.

“Thanks for the tickets and the ride. And for showing me your dark side! It's hot!”

“Sorry about that, I was out of line,” Virgil wilted and hugged Mr. Fuzzy. Remus pouted and scooted closer.

“It's okay, Virgil. I'm not hurt, just turned on. Who knew my celebrity crush would be my Internet crush, and who knew he was feral and a sweetheart?”

“Crush?”

“Yup! I won't deny it!” Remus giggled, “But don't think that means I'm coming on to you. I can behave! Even if I'm jealous of that bunny!”

“Why would you be jealous of a toy?” Virgil huffed. He was practically squeezing the life out of it.

“Because you love it, and more importantly, you're hugging it to those bara tiddies!” Remus jeered. He was pleasantly surprised when Virgil wrapped an arm around him.

“I-I like you too,” he said shyly, “But let's not rush into anything.”

“I can work with that!” Remus beamed, “I'm gonna go back out to the pit, and I'll come back here after your set.”

“You can leave the bag, no one will steal anything,” Virgil said and loosened his hold on his bunny.

“Really? Thanks Virgil! You're the best!” Remus beamed and kissed his cheek.

He bopped to his feet and giggled at how Virgil's blush traveled to his shoulders. He waved cheekily and skipped out of the dressing room, letting Virgil follow him with his eyes.

Virgil touched his cheek where Remus kissed him and smiled like an idiot.

That night he performed better than ever before.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #patton sanders #remy sanders #andy sanders #dragon witch #dukexietyweek2024 #day 6 #bonus prompt: stuffed animals #ftm!remus #sex mention tw #mild threats tw #hitchhiking mention tw #sandyscribed

10 notes · View notes