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tobyisave · 4 months ago

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acting lessons

this is for my chapter 5 au... I tried to compose a toxic doomed yaoi saiouma essay in the tags just now but it went over the tag limit (mortifying) so I'm just going to paste it under the cut!!

////cw for suicide of course. also heads up my version of saiouma is almost completely one sided 👍🏼

#look.. in my mind there is no world where shuichi truly comes around on kokichi #but there is TOTALLY a world where he feels eternally fucked up and guilty about assisting in his suicide #and cant bring himself to hate anymore #cant bring himself to reject the casual but blatantly self-indulgent touches of the boy hes about to murder in the most excruciating way possible #just let him have his fun #let him squeeze your shoulder a little too long #its the least you can do when hes about to let his entire body be turned into an unrecognizable puddle of gore #you dont have to pretend you like it. he KNOWS you dont like it. just let it happen & soon enough itll be over and youll never have to see him again #youll never be *able* to see him again. nothing left of him to even call a body #fucking unidentifiable #god. #(to be clear i dont approve of that logic at all but i sure think shuichi would feel that way)

#its like oumota but worse because (to me) shuu has completely written him off by ch5 and doesnt even need the poison blackmailing to agree #its shuichis low point after all hes fully suicidal and thinks kokichi is the mastermind who destroyed humanity's last hope #he doesnt have time to recalculate his opinion before its too late #he agrees almost immediately #but the closer it gets the less he can justify it #like god this guy fills me with rage and we would never ever in a million years get along but hes also a warm breathing human being #and hes in love with me or something and i just agreed to kill him. EAGERLY! #to his FUCKING FACE #yes i openly hated him already. and yes he didnt even blink when i told him i could kill him #if anything he looked happy! #but god how could i just say that to someone? how did it get this bad? #and how is he still giving me finger hearts through the camera while we test out angles for his fucking DEATH VIDEO #maybe just maybe its because he really thinks this will save us. but maybe he just wants to die #and i dont even know if that makes a difference anymore #et cetera……..

#like i said im not a saiouma guy in the traditional sense but #i do like pathetic clingy kokichi x shuichi who hates himself for harboring genuine malice towards him #(justified malice) #but is too self doubting to take the reins and stop the horrible thing theyve already set in motion

#meeting the same fate as kaede because he THOUGHT he was agreeing to kill the mastermind #when in reality it was really just a cagey guy who was trying to do the EXACT same thing and made the mistake of going it alone #and now that guy who couldve been his ally is dead and he has to pretend hes ok and lie to his friends to derail this trial #for this stupid idiotic plan he let himself get blindly swept up in #that was never going to work in the first place #he knew it was full of holes he knew ouma was full of shit #he knew himself he knew he'd buckle under the pressure of the trial #but he didnt say a thing #it was so much easier to go with it. he just wanted it to be fucking over with #well its not over. the game continues and kokichi is dead and for what #didnt lift a fucking finger #fucking idiot coward bottom of the barrel piece of shit. GOD #i dont know man. it's just real kill yourself hours for shuichi after this one

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miguel-owhora · 11 months ago

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hmmm thinking about a COD ABO au where the 141 live in a society where alphas are typically seen at the top of the pack, with betas and omegas as their subordinates. They're used to omegas being submissive and traditionally housepartners.

Enter the reader: this towering, large, heavyset omega who comes from a different society where omegas are actually on top of the pack, where they're more aggressive and territorial compared to the other two sexes.

The others expect you to roll over, maybe be more submissive, and they're quickly proven wrong when you snap at Price when he gets a little close—and it startles them, because an omega just snapped at the head alpha.

The boys grow intrigued by you, but they quickly learn not to overstep your boundaries; you show them you have no qualms with baring your teeth at them. You're not mean, you're polite and respectful as long as they respect you. However, some other idiot doesn't realize this and gets the idea that you need to learn your place; an omega shouldn't be ordering them around, shouldn't even be a soldier, nevermind be anything but a househusband.

The boys get a glimpse of how different omegas are in your society when they see you force the other alpha into submission, sinking your sharp teeth into the back of their neck, threaten to bitch them if they don't learn their place. Blood glints over your slick spit teeth, pupils dilated and feral with aggression and anger. You hold them in a scruff, pinning them down with your body and strength, until the idiot submits. Only then do you let them go with their metaphorical tail tucked between their legs, and you raise your head, glaring at anyone who'll meet your gaze, and ask if anyone else wants to get bitched.

Gaz has to smack Soap's hand down when it starts to rise, ignoring the chubbing in their individual pants as you dip from sight, with Ghost watching you with dark eyes, and Price eventually calling everyone back to their activities. Though, it's a silent agreement that all four boys slink back to their rooms to rub one off to the idea of you bitching them out.

#mr. o'whora's works !#i love this AU #ill probably make it into a fic slash expand on it #PLEASE send asks abt them #hgngng #141 x male reader #task force 141 x male reader #ghost x male reader #soap x male reader #gaz x male reader #price x male reader #x male reader #mlm #gay

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ghoulsbounty · 11 months ago

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Hi! I wanted to request a TH/fem reader and RZMM/fem reader

Maybe like a how would they show possessiveness over someone? A little angsty bc they're big guys and they would definitely manhandle their so in the heat of the moment

How Thomas Hewitt and RZ!Michael Myers Show Possessiveness Over You

Warnings: smut (18+), aggressive sex, slight mention of dumbification, manhandling, bruising/mark making, angst, obsession, stripping, stalking, slight yandere i guess?, possessiveness, canon-typical violence, control.

Words: 2.7K

A/N: Anon, thank you so much for my first slasher request! I love these boys so much and wanted to delve into their intentions behind their protectiveness a little, cause I think it would be very different for both. This is my first time writing a headcanon, I hope I've done you proud. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Thomas Hewitt

→ Thomas's struggle with social norms makes his possessiveness glaringly apparent. He perceives everyone outside the family as a potential threat to his happiness, particularly when it concerns you. His demeanour shifts abruptly at the slightest hint of danger; his typically measured movements become swift and aggressive. Despite his efforts to restrain his emotions in public, such as at the Cele Community Centre where you and his mother work, Thomas often finds himself instinctively drawn to your side. His hand firmly grasps the fabric of your shirt, his protective stance evident to anyone who dares to look at you. His gaze sweeps the surroundings with a discerning eye, meticulously assessing each customer until you gently remove his grip and convince him to wait in the back.

→ Thomas's overprotectiveness occasionally acts as a double-edged sword, simultaneously shielding you from harm while subtly restricting your freedom. As a man of few words, he struggles to articulate the depth of his need to keep you safe, resulting in actions that may be misinterpreted as possessiveness rather than genuine concern or fear of losing you. He means well, but it can feel suffocating.

→ Preferring to keep you within his line of sight whenever possible, Thomas's protective instincts often clash with the demands of daily life, leading to occasional conflicts with Charlie over the use of his time. The older man's frustration with what he perceives as your bad influence over Thomas' attention to his work further exacerbates tensions within the household.

→ Certain areas of the house are off limits to you. The basement serves as a sanctuary for Thomas's work, and he is adamant that you are shielded from the horrors that happen inside. However, he still insists on your presence nearby, perched on the steps that lead down to the space or listening to the radio in the dining room upstairs. Your proximity seems to offer him a sense of security and focus, enabling him to delve into his his task with unwavering concentration and produce some of his best work.

→ Thomas finds solace in words of affirmation and constantly seeks reassurance from you. Despite the intimacy you share and the countless times you've assured him otherwise, he harbours an unshakeable fear that if he loosens his grip even for a moment, you might slip away from him. This nagging insecurity gnaws at him, overshadowing moments of connection, leaving him perpetually haunted by the possibility of losing you.

→ Physical gestures become one your languages of reassurance. You hold his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers as a silent promise that you're there for him. Running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles into you becomes a comforting ritual, soothing both him and you. Your touch on his chest, just over his heart, keeps his anxieties at bay.

→ Words also become a source of comfort for Thomas. You express your pride in him, highlighting his strengths and the ways he makes your life better. You tell him how happy you are to have him by your side, emphasizing that he's not just your protector but also your partner. Sometimes, the simplest affirmations have the greatest impact on Thomas. Hearing you call him "yours" fills him with a sense of belonging and purpose, and when you tell him that he's been good, he can't help but prove just how good he can be by filling you with his fingers, tongue or cock.

→ Thomas feels most valued when you grant him your undivided attention and allow him to reciprocate. He revels in spending hours between your legs, skilfully coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your willing body until you're left a whimpering, trembling mess beneath him. Despite his efforts to maintain control in your relationship, you always seem to hold the upper hand, which is why he finds solace in reducing you to a thoroughly fucked-out state on his bed. In those moments, with your mind blissfully empty and your body consumed by a primal hunger for his touch, he feels a sense of power and satisfaction unlike any other.

→ Despite this, the mounting tensions within the household, particularly with Charlie, often leave Thomas grappling with pent-up aggression. As the demands on his time intensify, with Charlie clamouring for more of Thomas's attention and you taking on additional shifts at the community centre to assist his mother, Thomas finds it increasingly challenging to maintain his composure.

→ You've become attuned to the subtle shifts in his demeanour, recognizing the tell-tale signs when he's received a stern tongue lashing from his uncle or had a particularly taxing session in the basement. Thomas' simmering rage begins to permeate his interactions with you. His touch, once tender and reassuring, now carries an undercurrent of tension. The few words he mutters in your presence are laced with frustration and discontent, rather than devotion.

→ Despite your best efforts to sooth him, there are moments when Thomas's volatile emotions threaten to overwhelm him. In those instances, you find yourself walking on eggshells, navigating the precarious balance between offering solace and inadvertently stoking the flames of his anger. You are never fearful of Thomas, but these are the times when you remove yourself from his presence when possible. That is, until you learn that the best way to calm him during these storms is with your body.

→ Thomas's heavy-handed nature becomes even more pronounced during these moments of heightened emotion. He handles you with a forcefulness that borders on brutality, moulding and contorting your body into painful positions that elicit tears of discomfort. While he typically refrains from spanking you unless requested, in these instances, his large hand comes crashing down upon your flesh with punishing force, leaving behind welts and bruises that you carry for days. Unlike his usual attentiveness to your pleasure, Thomas's focus shifts solely towards finding an outlet for his frustration, using your body as a means to an end in his quest for release. He bites, scratches, and fucks every inch of you with an almost desperate intensity, seeking solace in the physical connection between you.

→ Yet, there are fleeting moments of clarity when the clouds in his eyes dissipate, and the gentle giant you know and love re-emerges. It's in these moments of vulnerability that you offer him comfort, reassuring him that he can take what he needs from you, and that you will still love him.

→ After the intensity of the moment subsides, Thomas retreats into the solitude of the basement, locking himself away as a form of self-imposed punishment for his mistreatment of you. Despite your efforts to coax him out, reassuring him of your well-being and offering comfort, he remains secluded until he feels ready to face you once more. When Thomas finally does emerge, you're quick to envelop him in the warmth of your affection and reassurance. With a soft kiss to his leather-clad cheek, you convey your unwavering support and understanding, letting him know that you harbour no resentment towards him.

→ In the aftermath of the encounter, Thomas's protective instincts kick into overdrive as he tends to any wounds that adorn your body, his touch gentle yet purposeful. It's in these moments that his true nature shines through—he may be heavy-handed and prone to bouts of aggression, but above all else, he possesses a deep-seated desire to care for and protect you, to make amends for any harm he may have caused.

RZ!Michael Myers

→ Michael's possessive nature over you begins with an intense and inexplicable fixation. From the moment his eyes land on you, something primal within him snaps, and he becomes singularly obsessed with making you his own.

→ He can't quite explain what draws him to the Red Rabbit Lounge that evening, but as he leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath after a harrowing escape from Smith's Grove, he is immediately captivated when you emerge from the back door. Unlike others who shrink away from him in fear, you meet his gaze with a calm demeanour, lighting your cigarette and casually pointing out his papier-mâché mask. Your nonchalant remark about liking the orange because it reminds you of your favourite holiday only adds to the intrigue, sparking something deep within Michael's psyche.

→ Following that initial encounter, Michael becomes an omnipresent presence in your life, a shadow that lingers at the edges of your awareness. You sense him in the periphery of your vision, catch glimpses of his shadow darting past windows, and hear the faintest rustle of his breath in the stillness of the night. He becomes your unseen companion, meticulously observing your every move. He studies your routines and habits, committing them to memory with an almost obsessive attention to detail. Always one step ahead, he waits patiently until the opportune moment presents itself to make his presence truly known.

→ Michael finds immense pleasure in the exhilarating pursuit of you, convinced that you share in his enjoyment of the chase. He keenly observes the subtle signs of your awareness, noticing the wry smirk that graces your lips when you sense his presence nearby. In those moments, he imagines feeling the same giddiness that surges through you when he lightly brushes your hair, a fleeting touch that leaves you yearning for more, even as it vanishes before you can turn around. The first time you called out to him, he battled against every instinct urging him to step out from the shadows and claim you as his own. Despite the overwhelming desire possess you, he restrains himself, savouring the anticipation of the inevitable moment when he would finally make his move.

→ In Michael's twisted psyche, you are more than just a person; you are a coveted prize that he will protect at all costs. He perceives himself as the sole rightful owner of your being, and he harbours an intense fixation on claiming you as his own.

→ As the regular patrons of the lounge mysteriously vanish one by one, leaving a bewildered community in their wake, Michael remains a silent observer, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon you. He knows all too well the allure of your presence, the captivating dance you perform for these men, reminiscent of the performances his late mother once gave. Yet, while others may see you as an entertainer, Michael sees something far deeper—a connection, a possession, a symbol of his ultimate dominance that he must preserve.

→ From the shadows, he watches as you bare your body to these patrons. To Michael, it doesn't matter whether you are aware of his claim over you; what matters is that he sees you as his, and he will go to any lengths to ensure that no one dares to challenge him. In his mind, you are his alone, and he will stop at nothing to secure what he believes is rightfully his.

→ When Michael finally decides to collect his prize, it's in the eerie stillness of the night. He patiently waits in the shadows of your home, a silent sentinel standing rigidly in the corner of your bedroom as he observes your every move. You can feel his presence, an unspoken acknowledgment that he has come to stake his claim on his property.

→ As you undress, acutely aware of his watchful gaze, a shiver runs down your spine. There's a palpable tension in the air, a sense of anticipation mingled with apprehension. Yet, despite the unease that courses through you, there's also a strange allure, a primal instinct drawing you inexorably towards him. When you finally coax him from the shadows, he engulfs you in his arms with a ferocity that takes your breath away. The force of his embrace is suffocating, his touch demanding as he grasps and claws at every part of your body. In that moment, there's no denying the intensity of his desire, the need to make you his own consuming him entirely.

→ Michael is not gentle with you; he doesn't hold back his deep urges to possess you completely. He revels in your whimpers and the screams of his name as he stretches you open and takes what he deems rightfully his. His touch is rough, unyielding, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Each movement is driven by a fierce need to mark you, to ensure you understand that you belong to him and no one else. Every night with Michael is filled with a mix of pain and pleasure. His eyes intense and unwavering, remain locked on you, drinking in every reaction, every cry. To him, this is the final step in owning you, the ultimate act of protecting what is his.

→ Removing the mask takes time. It's one evening, after the intensity of your shared orgasms have ebbed, and Michael lies heavy on top of you. Your fingers tentatively trace the edges of the white rubber mask, sensing his body tense beneath your touch. His hand instinctively reaches out, grasping your wrist to halt your movement, but your lips find solace in the warmth of his knuckles as you plant a gentle kiss, your breath whispering a desire to see him. For a fleeting moment, there's resistance, a hesitancy borne from years of concealing his true self, before he lets you unmask him. His long hair cascades over your face as the mask falls away, revealing the man beneath. In that vulnerable moment, you stroke his sweat-glistened cheek, your fingers tracing the contours of his features as you call him "handsome", perhaps the first time he's heard the word since his mother.

→ Despite Michael's disapproval of your continued work at the lounge, you are unwilling to relinquish your independence completely. He grumbles and fumes when things don't go his way, but deep down, he appreciates your defiance, feels a strange allure in your willingness to challenge him. Although his overly protective nature remains, he secretly enjoys the way you push back against his control, finding a strange sense of satisfaction in the game of give and take between you. A hand on his chest or a kiss along his strong jawline is all it takes for him to soften, his resolve melting under the warmth of your affection. You eventually compromise, only working certain shifts and allowing him to escort you home. As if you really have a choice on the matter. Michael finds your attempts at negotiation endearing.

→ If anyone dares to come between Michael and what is his, he reacts with violent outbursts of rage. His attacks are brutal and merciless, driven by a primal need to assert his dominance and protect you. Unfortunately, you are also not exempt from his aggression, and when he catches sight of you one night, engaged in conversation with a stranger outside the back of the lounge during your smoke break, he snaps. In a frenzy of fury, he swiftly disposes of the man, his actions marked by a sickening crunch of bones as his body is hurled against the brick wall. Then, turning his attention to you, Michael's muscles coil with tension and his chest heaves with barely-contained anger. Gripping your arms so fiercely that bruises bloom in their wake, he shoves you against the wall, once, then again, as if attempting to jolt some some sense into you.

→ With swift determination, Michael hoists you over his shoulder and retreats into the shadows, his purposeful strides carrying you home. But the journey doesn't lead to the bedroom; instead, he deposits you onto the stairs with a roughness that steals your breath. There, in the dim light, he strips away the remnants of your clothing, his actions forceful and unyielding. Again and again, he fucks into you with a ferocity that leaves you screaming his name, your pleas mingling with the echoes of both passion and pain. In those moments, as his protectiveness gives way to possession and consumes you, you find yourself uttering the words he craves to hear—that you are his, and his alone.

→ Yet, even amidst the ecstasy, a shadow of uncertainty looms. You can never be certain that Michael wouldn't cross that final line, that his compulsion wouldn't drive him to take everything from you, including your life. For Michael, protection is not just about control—it's about ownership to the point of obsession. If he can't have you, no one else can either.

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upthehillnsfw · 5 months ago

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Commission for the Hazelnoot server on Discord!

Based on Sweater Weather by lumosinlove🏒

Click for full version / Alternative

#funnnn!!! thank you for this!! i haven’t read the fic yet but boyyy have i heard of it👀#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #sweater weather lumosinlove #slash #marauders #harry potter #Hockey AU #lemon #commission #request

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for-a-longlongtime · 1 month ago

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Idealists

Pairing: Frankie Morales x reader x Santiago Garcia Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI. 🏳️‍🌈 Warnings/tags: Oral (f + m receiving), deep throating, lots of cumplay, PiV, fingering (f), masturbation, titty fucking, one time use of 'slut' (directed at m), queer af, everybody is bi. Reader is mostly a blank slate, uses she/her pronouns, has breasts and a vagina. Word count: 1.2K A/N: This was very loosely written + edited, and what @lotusbxtch called my brain backlashing against the Materialists trailer 💀 (hence the title - no shade intended, it's just very much the opposite). Thank you to her and @mountainsandmayhem and @sin-djarin for letting me test drive this in real time, ditto for @magpiepills who encouraged me to not fuss around too much with editing and just post it!

main masterlist | read on AO3

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Laying with your head in Santi's lap while he strokes your hair, as he doesn't even want you to suck him off, but to just to lay there while Frankie fucks you prone bone and he can admire the view, every now and then reaching out to cup your ass in his hand, or his fingers around Frankie's dick as he's fucking into you. And when Frankie is getting close to coming, Santi tells him to pull out at the last min and come over your ass.

He'll probably wipe Frankie's cum off you with his fingers and then use it as lube to jerk himself off lazily. "She only came once, Frankie. You'd better eat out that pussy and do it well."

So Frankie flips you over on the matress and eats you out with vigor as Santi watches. The top of your head resting against the outside of his thigh, and he's still calmly jerking himself off, brushing his thumb slick with his precum and Frankie's spunk over your bottom lip.

"Lick it up." Voice low and demanding, but of course you are gonna oblige - would’ve even done it without the order.

Frankie pauses for a moment to watch you lick Santi's thumb clean, his breath still hot against your cunt. When Santi notices that he's stopped, he frowns at him and snaps his fingers. "Didn't tell you to stop, Francisco. Get back to it and give her two fingers."

Then Santi fucks your mouth with two fingers, pretty much at the same pace as Frankie fingers you while sucking on your clit. "She'd better be crying your name loudly when she comes on your tongue."

You do, so Santi decides that Frankie deserves a reward. He tugs Frankie by his hair, over your body and towards him, so he can kiss him and lick your taste out of his mouth. "Good job," he purrs at Frankie, who can't help but preen at the compliment, and before he can respond, Santi pushes his head down, urging Frankie's mouth to his cock. "Here's your reward, make it sloppy."

And you're still laying there, catching your breath with Frankie leaning over you and giving Santi the nastiest, sloppiest head. You brush your fingers over his nipples - always so sensitive - and lean up to press your lips against his heated skin, kissing his chest, and you feel him shiver in response.

It's not long before Santi is panting heavily, because Frankie knows exactly how to suck him off hard and quick. You can feel Santi's hips bucking up even though you can't actually see what's going on - but fuck, do you hear it. The slick sounds of Frankie feasting on his dick have you dripping wet, and you reach down to touch yourself, slipping two fingers inside to satisfy the yearning. It’s good, intoxicating even with your two guys pressed so close against you, but nevertheless your digits don’t fill you nearly as adequately as Frankie's fingers did.

"Deeper," Santi gasps, and you can feel how he urges Frankie's head further down, pushes himself all the way in probably, because for a second Frankie gags, then recovers as he continues. His own dick has stiffened but he’s not quite able to get fully erect again, bobbing against your stomach as he's smearing a mess of your combined cum all over your belly.

The guys are both panting now, and Frankie moves a bit further over, presumably to better position his mouth over Santi before he comes. Suddenly he groans, low and yearningly, and pushes at Santi to move. You're so gone on the rush of them as you’re fingering yourself, your other hand playing with your clit as you rub it, circling it slowly as your hips buck up - and initially you don’t get what's going on. You just feel Santi shifting a little away from you, making more room for Frankie to reposition himself.

With an obscenely wet sound, Frankie's sticky cock finds a home between your tits, accompanied by his groan of relief at the sensation. Everything happens so fast that you're barely able to keep track of it. Because Santi curses, his voice low and laced with lust ( "Mierda, Francisco - look at you being a greedy slut") as Frankie reaches down, his big hands grabbing both of your tits. He pushes them together tightly and fucks them, hard, more slick of his cock now dripping all over your tits and sternum, and you can hear him gasping for air - trying not to choke as he still has Santi’s dick in his mouth.

With Santi' thick thighs having moved a bit away from you, there's just enough room now to tilt your head back further into the mattress. The angle is beyond awkward and strains your neck, but it's absolutely worth it as you see Santi's hips thrusting up, his cock red and almost visibly throbbing while he fucks Frankie's throat - the pepper and salt curls of his pubes soaked with Frankie's drool that's dripping down Santiago's length.

You whine as you fuck your fingers harder, thumb directly on your clit now, and your nipples so hard from the friction of his fingers teasing them. It’s clear that Frankie is desperately fighting his refractory period, riled up and eager for a release so he can come on your tits, even though all three of you know it's very unlikely to happen.

He suddenly pulls off Santi's cock as he gasps for air - two, three quick breaths, his lips almost impossibly slick - and he is just in time to put his mouth back on him before Santi erupts. Seconds later, you hear that familiar groan from Santiago as he comes hard, cursing up a storm, and you see the drops spilling from Frankie’s swollen lips as a visual betrayal of Santi’s release. It’s the last visual you have as your cunt tightens and you come hard on your own fingers, a gasped cry that starts out as Frankie’s name but morphs into something nonsensical as you can’t take your eyes off the guys.

Frankie’s full body slumps, no longer able to hold himself up, and you feel his overheated stomach brush your forehead as he lets go of your tits. You're pretty sure he didn't come, as he's clearly exhausted, needing to accept the defeat of his urge to climax again, but still being gifted Santi's release in his mouth.

"Jesus Christ, Frank," Santi's voice croaks as you close your eyes, trying to catch your breath while you hear and feel the guys rearrange themselves into more comfortable positions. "Give it to her," he adds a moment later, with that raspy sound that always gives you goosebumps, and you feel Santi's hand tap your cheek softly along with his demand. "Open up, hermosa."

You open your eyes when you feel Frankie's thumb tug slightly at your lower lip, and you stare up at him - the glorious mess of his face, his hair revealing how Santi clearly had his hands buried in those curls. Brown eyes still watering, multiple bodily fluids slick on his nose and lips, and his eyes asking you silently for permission.

You nod mutely as you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue and then at last receive that prize he's passing on. Slick and plentiful, tasting a bit of him but mostly of Santiago, who curses again as he watches Frankie feed his cum to you.

"Fuuuck."

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Tagging y'all who wanted to be notified of this being posted (and some more folks who might be interested) (I'm deliriously tired because it's way too late so I'm sorry for everybody who I'm forgetting to tag):

@perotovar @pedroacrossthestreet @anotherpedrolover @oliveksmoked @thoughtfullypinkgiver

@chujo-hime @dimonroks @maladptivedaydreaming @mossy-buds @indiegirlunited

@blueheisenbergtragedy @witch-szn @hiweareghostt @autismsupermusicalassassin @kdogreads

@kels976 @groovy-hippie-chick @hvnnigram @dragonqueen89 @hi--have-a-nice-day

@maryrhodalouandted @thesassyteacher91 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @bluesweaters15 @inept-the-magnificent

@the-blind-assassin-12 @penvisions @theshipissinking8 @ghoulettesinspace @bubblespike

@angiewatson @wardenparker @reallyrallyauthor @campingwiththecharmings @oscar-isaacx

@milla-frenchy @almostfoxglove @almostempty @covetyou @5oh5

@chronically-ghosted @qveerthe0ry @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ivystoryweaver @alltheglitterandtheroar

@astroboots @writefightandflightclub @sp00kymulderr @ghostofaboy @elvenmother

@yopossum @virtie333 @arcanechariot @nerdieforpedro @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@avastrasposts @lady-bess @din-cognito @frenchiereading @musings-of-a-rose

@murder-wife @trulybetty @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @faretheeoscar okay I'm falling asleep, goodniiiight

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main masterlist | follow @longlongtime-updates for updates

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #santiago garcia #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x you #triple frontier #frankie morales x santiago garcia #santiago garcia x frankie morales #poly fic #queer fic #slash fic #oscar isaac characters

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shieldmaiden-tabris · 8 days ago

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Alright at this point no Star Wars writer other than Timothy Zahn should be allowed to touch Thrawn in current canon. Don't look at him, don't think about him, none of that. Don't even breathe in the blue man's direction. If you don't understand the fundamentals of his character, namely the primary force that drives and motivates him to do things, then do not have him do things!!! Create your own character to be the big bad!! Leave him alone.

#put that chiss back where he came from or so help me #the reason I like Thrawn as a character so much is because he's so complex and interesting!!#if you find yourself needing to sacrifice pre-established characterization just to make your plot make sense then here's an idea #make a different character #or at least make the drastic change make sense!!#Heir to the Empire Thrawn and post Disney buyout slash Current Book Thrawn are DIFFERENT #Thrawn's story is not one Filoni should be telling #personally I think there are plenty of Star Wars stories that I think he's fantastic at telling!!#But this is not one of them #plus seeing Thrawn back in the Chiss Ascendancy and back with his people in the Unknown Regions opens up the potential for so much!!!#and now we won't get to ever see that unless we go to fic which tbh I have no issue doing some of y'all are truly doing the lord's work #especially my thranto girlies y'all know what's up #Eli come get your man please #thrawn #thranto

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charcoaledrocks · 1 year ago

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hello Tumblr User @pittdpeaches you ruined my life / j

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hairmetal666 · 6 months ago

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Eddie stands at the edge of the ruined, stinking field, heart somewhere down by the soles of his feet. He watches the grey vines creep across the rotten earth, bracketing the blackened and split pumpkins.

"This can't be happening again," Steve says next to him. There's nothing in his voice, in his expression.

And Eddie doesn't know what to say because it is happening, the Upside Down is creeping into Hawkins, Vecna defeated or not.

"We have to tell the others," is Eddie's response. He doesn't know how he sounds normal when his heart is breaking, when Steve's blankness is killing him.

They walk back to Eddie's van in heavy silence. He can't read what Steve is thinking and that's--they're not something, not yet, but they spend all their time together and it's right there, under the surface, and--

He always knows what Steve is thinking, now. Can read his face like Tolkien wrote it, no matter what's happening, but right now it's empty, unreadable, unfathomable, untouchable King Steve risen from the grave.

The drive back to Hop's cabin is silent. Eddie doesn't even turn on music, his brain can't take it.

Cars fill the cabin's driveway, everyone in attendance, everyone waiting. On the porch, they hear the TV, the tinny whirr of lightsabers. It all stops when they push open the door, movie paused, conversations broken off, every face turned in their direction.

Neither of them speaks. Looking at all these faces, the kids, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Hop and Joyce, the hope and trust, and he can't--he can't.

"Well?" Joyce prompts. She's working a kitchen towel between her fingers.

He nods as Steve says, "it's back."

Eddie expects an outcry, horror, an explosion, but it's quiet. Quiet enough he can hear Steve's soft breaths next to him. Quiet enough he gets to watch as the news hits on each face in the room. It's like a punch every time.

It's so much different from planning the fight against Vecna. There was so much energy, drive, to get it done, to defeat the Upside Down forever. There wasn't silence, not ever, no faces painted with grief. Even when things were at their worst, an undercurrent of hope buoyed the group.

"Are you sure?" It's Nancy who breaks the silence, of course it is.

"It's the tunnels all over again," Steve answers.

"El?" Hopper asks. "Have you--?"

Will and El are looking at each other, Eddie's sure that no one else in the room exists for them.

"We haven't felt anything." El finally says.

"Nothing?" Mike's eyes flick between them.

"Not since Vecna," Will says.

"It's--it feels--" El waves at the back of her neck.

"Blank." Will finishes.

"Blank isn't gone," Erica says.

Dustin hums, eyes distant. "So, it went dormant."

That gets all the kids going, arguing and shouting over each other, and it isn't long before everyone is involved.

Eddie throws himself into it, grateful to be back in a familiar place of planning, discovering what they're up against, fighting. They're at their best like this, all of them, and it takes the edge off the fear eating up his insides.

He doesn't really get a chance to talk to Steve one-on-one, but Eddie's aware of him always, catches the moments in between bickering with Mike and shouting with Dustin and whispering with Robin where he goes distant, empty, just like at the field, just like in the car.

Eventually, everyone trickles home for the night, Hop's cabin emptying until it's just the Byers, Hoppers, and Steve. And since Eddie goes wherever Steve is--

Steve stands at the window in their room, back to Eddie. His shoulders are rigid, and Eddie is--he's scared in a whole new way. Steve is--he's strong, he keeps them together, he. They look to him to be brave, to be the first to jump, and--

"Steve?" Eddie comes up next to him.

His eyes are squeezed shut, fists clenched.

"Sweetheart?"

Steve opens his eyes, tears track down his cheeks. "I don't think I can do this again," he sobs. "I don't think--" He presses his fists to his eyes, like he's trying to force the moisture back inside.

Eddie grabs his wrists, gentle, murmurs, "it's okay, it'll be okay, I've got you."

"How can it be okay?" Steve asks. His face is wrecked and Eddie's heart shatters. "This was supposed to be over, Eddie. We were supposed to be done with fighting, we beat Vecna. So, tell me how it's going to be okay."

He freezes, unsure how to respond. In the end, "you're right," he says. "it's not okay. And I don't want to pretend that it is. It fucking sucks. We did the work already. We shouldn't be right back here like it never happened."

"But we are," Steve sniffles.

"But we are. And you know what?"

"What?"

"We're going to get through this. Just like we did the last time."

"We almost lost you last time, Ed. We almost lost Max. What if--what if--" Steve's eyes fill again. "I can't do this without you," he sobs.

Eddie doesn't hesitate, pulls Steve into his arms, holds him as tight and close as physically possible. "You won't." Eddie soothes. "You won't. I'll be right here with you. I promise."

"How can you know?"

Again, there's only one answer for that. "I don't. But I know I'll never leave your side willingly. None of us would. And I know that we're going to fight--all of us--like we always do."

"How can you have so much hope?" He asks. "After everything?"

"It's hard," he answers. "I'm terrified. But I know I have you, and Robin, and Dustin, and Wayne, and--everyone. We fight for each other, you know?"

"We keep going because we have to," Steve says.

"Yeah, sweetheart. We protect each other and this godforsaken town, no matter how much it sucks."

Steve's laugh is husky and short. "It sucks so much."

"Real trash heap of a place."

"And that's without the alternate dimension and monsters."

"I think we've got a really strong ad campaign for the Hawkins tourism board." The giggle that escapes from Steve is the sweetest thing Eddie's ever heard.

Later, the lights off, Steve pulls him close. "I'm so glad I have you," he whispers, fingers trailing through Eddie's curls. "You give me something to hope for."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #ficlet #angst #pre slash #best friends who will be lovers #hurt/comfort #the upside down #trauma #grief #somehow palpatine returned #processing my election grief through fic #i don't even know anymore

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