#so that we're all overheating.

[rjalker]

[ID: The handshake meme, edited so one arm is labeled, "Me", and the other is labeled, "Tabitha", with the clasped hands in the center reading:

"not dying of heatstroke in the winter because we know that people turn the temperature in cars and buildings up way too fucking high so we wear shorts and light jackets instead of long pants and heavy winter coats when we're going somewhere that's going to be inside.".

End ID.]

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #400: Heart & Mind are usually never a neutral temperature. The area around them is like the sun & moon. Mind's being hot and Hearts being cold. They're body temperatures however contrast that with Mind always feeling cold like metal/machinery and Heart feeling warm like a literal heart.

[more in tags :}]

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I am at 59k on this Ninjago fic i swear I'll finish it this month I will work on nothing else I am going to finish this--

[dandyshucks]

brain is so silly bc I'm thinking "i wish Guz had cold hands so when I'm stressed he could cup my face and it'd soothe the itchiness I get when I start scratching at myself from the stress" and then I realized wait he's a fictional character. I could just say he has cold hands if I wanted. but he DOESN'T, i just KNOW that man is a heater !!! he will get me overheated so easily and that is simply something i am happy to put up with because i love him !!!!

[sleepyjim]

oourgh augh why my fuckang tumby hurt <- guy with tumy hurt syndrome

[gobbogoo]

I LOVE Dungeon Meshi's Realistic Fantasy Races

Ok, I had to stop for a moment to gush about the fantasy races of Dunmeshi, and all the consideration that's been put into them, because they actually follow a degree of natural/evolutionary logic not found in most fantasy stories!

Half-Foots (halflings/hobbits):

So we all know these fellows have excellent hearing and smell, but have you considered WHY? It's an adaptation to counteract their size. Humans (called tallmen in this setting) rely so much on eyesight because we're really tall compared to most animals, giving us a fantastic vantage of our environment. Half-Foots don't have this advantage, and therefore rely on their other senses. It's also much more important for them to be able to detect unseen threats and move quickly, because their size makes them ill-equipped for direct conflict.

Dwarves:

So Dwarves are depicted as MUCH stronger than tallmen despite their size, right? This is because strength is determined not by size, but by mass, and dwarven bodies are very dense! Yet this comes with the downside of their bodies burning more energy and overheating much faster, which is why dwarves are also shown to be heat-resistant, and why they tend to wear lighter clothing that exposes more skin! Their night-vision is also better than humans' due to their semi-underground lifestyle, while their hearing remains about the same since sound naturally carries in caves. Their hairiness is also likely a direct adaptation to counteract magic, as it's been shown to form a natural buffer when left unwashed.

Gnomes:

Gnomes are supposed to be evolutionary cousins to dwarves, and it shows! They share a similar height, but are less muscular and have peculiarly-shaped ears, almost mirroring the difference between human and elven ears. Their affinity with nature and spirits also makes sense, because physically they're in an awkward spot compared to the other short races, lacking both the hefty strength of dwarves and the light nimbleness of half-foots. Being less equipped both for fight and flight, it makes sense they'd instead adapt the instinctive ability to read their environments and mitigate its threats through cohabitation.

Elves:

Like gnomes, elves are in a physically awkward place, however it's even more extreme. Their relatively light and weak bodies make them ill-equipped for direct conflict, and while likely able to move faster than tallmen due to weight, they lack the half-foot's danger-detection senses. This makes them seemingly helpless, however interestingly it actually explains why they're so advanced compared to other races! They were basically forced to coordinate problem-solve, and control their environments out of necessity, which is reflected in their more controlling and direct relationship with magic and nature compared to gnomes.

This actually mirrors the real-world difference between humans and neanderthals. Anthropologists believe neanderthals weren't actually dumber than humans, but that their superior strength and durability meant they weren't forced to problem-solve or control their environments like humans, meaning they seemed less advanced.

[cafterdark]

I don't think y'all truly grasp what fucking a god would be like.

Not only are they beings who can shape reality like clay, but they have such a massively different conception of time, morality, and existence that they become alien to you

For example, let's say you are a normal guy:

One moment you're looking at yourself in the mirror, the next in a quiet field. Before you even have a chance to react, a voice rips through your tissue paper body. It is multilayered, unable to stick to one voice, but is it smooth and alluring and almost feminine.

"I have chosen thee to be my temple." The voice says.

"W...who are you?" You stutter out.

The voice doesn't answer. For a moment you wonder if you've gone insane, then she begins. A thousand hands of light touch you, some delicate and precise, some wild and rough. They grab and grope and tear and claw and brush and pinch and slap all over, all at once. One hand grabs your short hair and forces you to look up in the air and she says:

"Let me show you your purpose."

You are launched in time to a temple, backwards or forwards, you don't know. It is lit by candles, showing that you're at the feet of a massive marble statue of a nude woman. The hands force you to your knees, all while feeling up your boiling body. You look up and only catch a glimpse of her beautiful thighs before you're unstuck in time again.

You feel yourself dragged back to reality. You're in a woman's body, being fucked by two other women in a dingy hotel. One hold the leash to a collar around your neck, the other holding your legs as she fucks you with her dick. The hands are still there and guide you, teasing each moans from your throat and buck of your hips. You've never felt this good ever as you start ascending the mountain of arousal. The collar chokes you enough for a momentary blackout

You're back in the temple, still looking up. You catch a glimpse of her hips, grabbable, with curves in just the right spots. You blink in awe and find yourself in another woman's body, actually no, a robot woman's body. You're connected to a machine made of tech so powerful you can't comprehend by series of wires and plugs throughout your body. A woman, dressed in lab wear smiles, kisses you, and starts the machine. You feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through you. The woman's smile widens, then a notification appears on your HUD

Sensitivity increased 150%

A soft glide teaches down your back and you feel your entire body kicks in response. You ascend further up, climbing step after step towards orgasm. Each touch the machine simulates makes you skip ten steps. The woman's laughs at you makes you skip more. The heat is unbearable, your fans spinning at Max speed, their noise filling the background. You get a warning notification about overheating and you're back at the temple.

The hands keep your arousal steady as the hand tilts your head further up still. You're enraptured by the most perfect pair of tits you have ever seen. The last bit of thought you we're holding onto is wiped away by their glory. But before you can properly worship them, you're thrown back in time.

You're in another temple, hazy and thick with the perfume of incense. You're in a priestess' body slick with oil, prepared to worship your goddess with your other priestesses. You look around and see the rest of your order staring at you and approach. After a long moment, you realize that you're the offering. The other women attack you with kisses and teeth and hands and nails in just the right spots. Each blow brings you closer to the peak. They pin you down and begin fucking you with their trained tongues and you blank out. You're so close now you can see the peak. You pray to just be allowed to reach it.

You're set back to the temple again and with one swift yank of your long hair, brings your eyes to the statues face.

It's you.

You don't know how you know. It looks nothing like you, but it's you. And you're gorgeous you can feel the orgasm coming, it's so so so so close now. The world stops, your body freezes.

You find yourself stuck one step before the peak, staring at your beautiful features and unable to do anything about it. You're stuck there for a long time. An hour? A year? A Millennia? A second? You don't know. But by the end, you're asking Her to let you cum. She responds:

"Do you know your purpose?"

"Yes... Goddess," you pant out. "As your temple... Where your followers... Worship you"

"Good Girl" She says.

Those two words bring you over the edge and you find yourself cumming harder than you've ever done before. Each convulsion rips away a part of your past life, what you ate for breakfast, your job, your hobbies, your name. If you could think through the tsunami of pleasure, you wouldn't care. Goddess will provide, she always will. But for now, you are drowning in devotional ecstasy.

After an eternity, you finally feel the afterglow bleed in. The hands let go and you collapse to the floor, letting the darkness consume you.

You wake up on the bathroom floor and groan. Was it really just a dream? You get up and look in the mirror and see you. Not the fake you that you wore before, but the you Goddess crafted, her masterpiece. You smile and dance in your body, that statue turned flesh, and laugh a beautiful laugh to celebrate and thank Her.

"You know your purpose and are trained in it," She says in the back of your mind. "Begin."

"Yes Goddess"

You leave the bathroom and begin your new life. After all, what's a god without her temple?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

I assure you, an AI didn’t write a terrible “George Carlin” routine

There are only TWO MORE DAYS left in the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

On Hallowe'en 1974, Ronald Clark O'Bryan murdered his son with poisoned candy. He needed the insurance money, and he knew that Halloween poisonings were rampant, so he figured he'd get away with it. He was wrong:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Clark_O%27Bryan

The stories of Hallowe'en poisonings were just that – stories. No one was poisoning kids on Hallowe'en – except this monstrous murderer, who mistook rampant scare stories for truth and assumed (incorrectly) that his murder would blend in with the crowd.

Last week, the dudes behind the "comedy" podcast Dudesy released a "George Carlin" comedy special that they claimed had been created, holus bolus, by an AI trained on the comedian's routines. This was a lie. After the Carlin estate sued, the dudes admitted that they had written the (remarkably unfunny) "comedy" special:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/01/george-carlins-heirs-sue-comedy-podcast-over-ai-generated-impression/

As I've written, we're nowhere near the point where an AI can do your job, but we're well past the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

AI systems can do some remarkable party tricks, but there's a huge difference between producing a plausible sentence and a good one. After the initial rush of astonishment, the stench of botshit becomes unmistakable:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

Some of this botshit comes from people who are sold a bill of goods: they're convinced that they can make a George Carlin special without any human intervention and when the bot fails, they manufacture their own botshit, assuming they must be bad at prompting the AI.

This is an old technology story: I had a friend who was contracted to livestream a Canadian awards show in the earliest days of the web. They booked in multiple ISDN lines from Bell Canada and set up an impressive Mbone encoding station on the wings of the stage. Only one problem: the ISDNs flaked (this was a common problem with ISDNs!). There was no way to livecast the show.

Nevertheless, my friend's boss's ordered him to go on pretending to livestream the show. They made a big deal of it, with all kinds of cool visualizers showing the progress of this futuristic marvel, which the cameras frequently lingered on, accompanied by overheated narration from the show's hosts.

The weirdest part? The next day, my friend – and many others – heard from satisfied viewers who boasted about how amazing it had been to watch this show on their computers, rather than their TVs. Remember: there had been no stream. These people had just assumed that the problem was on their end – that they had failed to correctly install and configure the multiple browser plugins required. Not wanting to admit their technical incompetence, they instead boasted about how great the show had been. It was the Emperor's New Livestream.

Perhaps that's what happened to the Dudesy bros. But there's another possibility: maybe they were captured by their own imaginations. In "Genesis," an essay in the 2007 collection The Creationists, EL Doctorow (no relation) describes how the ancient Babylonians were so poleaxed by the strange wonder of the story they made up about the origin of the universe that they assumed that it must be true. They themselves weren't nearly imaginative enough to have come up with this super-cool tale, so God must have put it in their minds:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/29/gedankenexperimentwahn/#high-on-your-own-supply

That seems to have been what happened to the Air Force colonel who falsely claimed that a "rogue AI-powered drone" had spontaneously evolved the strategy of killing its operator as a way of clearing the obstacle to its main objective, which was killing the enemy:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/

This never happened. It was – in the chagrined colonel's words – a "thought experiment." In other words, this guy – who is the USAF's Chief of AI Test and Operations – was so excited about his own made up story that he forgot it wasn't true and told a whole conference-room full of people that it had actually happened.

Maybe that's what happened with the George Carlinbot 3000: the Dudesy dudes fell in love with their own vision for a fully automated luxury Carlinbot and forgot that they had made it up, so they just cheated, assuming they would eventually be able to make a fully operational Battle Carlinbot.

That's basically the Theranos story: a teenaged "entrepreneur" was convinced that she was just about to produce a seemingly impossible, revolutionary diagnostic machine, so she faked its results, abetted by investors, customers and others who wanted to believe:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theranos

The thing about stories of AI miracles is that they are peddled by both AI's boosters and its critics. For boosters, the value of these tall tales is obvious: if normies can be convinced that AI is capable of performing miracles, they'll invest in it. They'll even integrate it into their product offerings and then quietly hire legions of humans to pick up the botshit it leaves behind. These abettors can be relied upon to keep the defects in these products a secret, because they'll assume that they've committed an operator error. After all, everyone knows that AI can do anything, so if it's not performing for them, the problem must exist between the keyboard and the chair.

But this would only take AI so far. It's one thing to hear implausible stories of AI's triumph from the people invested in it – but what about when AI's critics repeat those stories? If your boss thinks an AI can do your job, and AI critics are all running around with their hair on fire, shouting about the coming AI jobpocalypse, then maybe the AI really can do your job?

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

There's a name for this kind of criticism: "criti-hype," coined by Lee Vinsel, who points to many reasons for its persistence, including the fact that it constitutes an "academic business-model":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

That's four reasons for AI hype:

to win investors and customers;

to cover customers' and users' embarrassment when the AI doesn't perform;

AI dreamers so high on their own supply that they can't tell truth from fantasy;

A business-model for doomsayers who form an unholy alliance with AI companies by parroting their silliest hype in warning form.

But there's a fifth motivation for criti-hype: to simplify otherwise tedious and complex situations. As Jamie Zawinski writes, this is the motivation behind the obvious lie that the "autonomous cars" on the streets of San Francisco have no driver:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/driverless-cars-always-have-a-driver/

GM's Cruise division was forced to shutter its SF operations after one of its "self-driving" cars dragged an injured pedestrian for 20 feet:

https://www.wired.com/story/cruise-robotaxi-self-driving-permit-revoked-california/

One of the widely discussed revelations in the wake of the incident was that Cruise employed 1.5 skilled technical remote overseers for every one of its "self-driving" cars. In other words, they had replaced a single low-waged cab driver with 1.5 higher-paid remote operators.

As Zawinski writes, SFPD is well aware that there's a human being (or more than one human being) responsible for every one of these cars – someone who is formally at fault when the cars injure people or damage property. Nevertheless, SFPD and SFMTA maintain that these cars can't be cited for moving violations because "no one is driving them."

But figuring out who which person is responsible for a moving violation is "complicated and annoying to deal with," so the fiction persists.

(Zawinski notes that even when these people are held responsible, they're a "moral crumple zone" for the company that decided to enroll whole cities in nonconsensual murderbot experiments.)

Automation hype has always involved hidden humans. The most famous of these was the "mechanical Turk" hoax: a supposed chess-playing robot that was just a puppet operated by a concealed human operator wedged awkwardly into its carapace.

This pattern repeats itself through the ages. Thomas Jefferson "replaced his slaves" with dumbwaiters – but of course, dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, they hide slaves:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

The modern Mechanical Turk – a division of Amazon that employs low-waged "clickworkers," many of them overseas – modernizes the dumbwaiter by hiding low-waged workforces behind a veneer of automation. The MTurk is an abstract "cloud" of human intelligence (the tasks MTurks perform are called "HITs," which stands for "Human Intelligence Tasks").

This is such a truism that techies in India joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians." Or, to use Jathan Sadowski's wonderful term: "Potemkin AI":

https://reallifemag.com/potemkin-ai/

This Potemkin AI is everywhere you look. When Tesla unveiled its humanoid robot Optimus, they made a big flashy show of it, promising a $20,000 automaton was just on the horizon. They failed to mention that Optimus was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Likewise with the famous demo of a "full self-driving" Tesla, which turned out to be a canned fake:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

The most shocking and terrifying and enraging AI demos keep turning out to be "Just A Guy" (in Molly White's excellent parlance):

https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1751670561606971895

And yet, we keep falling for it. It's no wonder, really: criti-hype rewards so many different people in so many different ways that it truly offers something for everyone.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Ross Breadmore (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/rossbreadmore/5169298162/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[mywifealhaitham]

I saw Boothill and as a lover of fictional cowboys, I immediately started planning how to save up to pull him. Now, since he's a cyborg, please imagine this for me: making him flustered or doing something unexpected and cute (like kissing his cheek), and his body makes a sound like a revving engine in response.

this is one of the cutest ideas anon your a genius bc I can absolutely see this happening and you would take advantage of it so badly...

the first time you figured this quirk of his out was after a tough battle. you both we're injured and with all the energy you had left you sprited over to him and tackled him into a hug leaving a big kiss on his cheek. normally boothill is cheeky and would call you cute and clingy for this but not this time. he froze up and actually short circuited a bit. small harmless sparks sizzled out of a damaged part of his arm as some of his engines overheated a bit causing the sound. you let out the most shit eating grin because not only was your boothill alive, you find a weakness of his.

as embarrassing as it could be sometimes he doesn't really mind if you pull stunts like that in public and infact he let's his guard truly down when he's around you in hopes to get a cheek kiss from you. it's a win win situation, he gets his affection and you get to see him flustered. when you surprise him pretty much most of the time he freezes up and the familiar engine sound can be heard near his chest, directly were a heart should be. you find this cute and of course you express it, leading to your poor boyfriend to be more flustered. he most likely cannot blush but still to save some dignity he covers his face with his hat to avoid giving you the satisfaction of his growing grin.

be careful about how much you flustered him though because he's a man who fights for justice and sometimes that justice calls for revenge. he's pretty sneaky so there's almost no avoiding being his prey, stealthily feet running towards you and before you know it you're being embraced in a hug as he spins you around and just when you think your free from his grasp he leaves tons of kisses in his wake. and yes this could happen anywhere at anytime because like how you adore his flustered reving he adores you're blushy and shy face.

[redvelvetcupcakes21]

Small Halloween fic based on this post

Buck knew Tommy's biggest secret, that despite their friends thinking Tommy was the "cool guy", Tommy was indeed the biggest dork Buck had ever met.

Buck wasn't complaining though because it made Tommy cooler in his eyes.

So it didn't surprise Buck one bit that Tommy absolutely loved Halloween to the point where Buck had discovered that Tommy's house was the house to go to for trick or treating since Tommy always had a jump scare pranks for the older kids and full sized candy bars for everyone who came knocking.

And of course Tommy was a huge advocate of wearing costumes, he had shown Buck the costume he had worn during past Halloween parties from Captain America, Hulk, Super Mario, to a werewolf complete with a furry mask. Tommy was definitely into Halloween.

Which was why he was super excited to show Buck the costume he had picked out for Chimney and Maddie's Halloween party. The party was set to be adults only (The Lees had opted to take care of Jee, Denny and Mara for the evening) and fortunately it was when the 118 crew had a night off.

Tommy had been quiet about his options so all Buck knew was that Tommy was still deciding.

The costume options where the last thing Buck was thinking off when he returned to Tommy's home after a brisk run around the neighborhood, Buck had just mid swallowed a gulp of water when Tommy stepped into the kitchen with arms spread wide and asking Buck, "So what do you think?"

Buck choked on his water, spitting it everywhere as Tommy came up to clap him on the back. "Are you okay?" Tommy asked worriedly.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Buck asked, getting the air back into his lungs, his tone held no malice or anger. Buck was sure he was red all over and it wasn't because he was struggling to clear his throat.

But because Tommy was wearing a Spartan costume. The costume left little to nothing to the imagination. Buck's eyes were glued to Tommy's chest, were a harness was wrapped around his boyfriend's shoulders and chest, attached to a long red flowing cape and complete with pleather looking cuff wristbands. The happy trail on Tommy's stomach led to brown leather "shorts" that were essentially underwear and made Buck feel overheated and lightheaded all at once.

"You don't like it?" Tommy asked, looking genuinely wounded. He ran his fingers down the cape. "I thought it looked cool." He picked up the plastic sledge hammer that was tied to his "shorts", "Even came with this cool hammer." He smiled, the crinkles around his eyes, along with Tommy's curly hair and stubble had Buck losing blood flow to his head.

"You don't think it's...I don't know? Revealing?" He gulped, touching his boyfriends pecs and running his fingers down Tommy's chest hair. He stumbled over his words as he saw Tommy looking at him in a affronted manner. "I-I just mean uh that it might be a lot for a Halloween party?"

Tommy shook his head good naturally in disagreement, "We're going to an adults only Halloween party, trust me I'm sure this is probably the least revealing outfit we'll see there tonight. Especially if dispatch is invited, they really like to break loose after hours." Tommy waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"It's just that..." Buck's fingers skimmed the top of the shorts, "You look like you're legit wearing underwear, really hot underwear." the fuzzy part of his brain wondered if Tommy had on a cup, he had to be based on how tight the damn shorts were. Buck felt himself lick his lips as pulled on the shorts, earning a slap on his hand from Tommy.

"Hey!" Tommy pushed him back playfully, "Hands off the merchandise."

Buck didn't let the push deter him from grabbing Tommy by the hips and pulling him closer, "My merchandise." he growled, huffing out a groan as he started kissing Tommy's neck, biting hard at the skin under Tommy's ear.

"This is really doing it for you?" Tommy asked shivering as Buck's hands started to pull at the laces on his shorts. "Baby, it's a essentially a knock off of on a Thor costume."

Buck didn't bother even looking up as he started to kiss down Tommy's neck to his chest, "You just came in here wearing underwear and a harness, its going to do something to me, Tommy." he peered up at Tommy, watching how the older man looked both surprised and turned on as Buck press open mouth kisses over his chest.

Buck felt himself preen as Tommy started to pant, "Okay, so maybe the costume stays home." he decided as Buck dragged him towards the bedroom.

"It's definitely going to stay on, especially that cape." Buck promised.

-

This wasn't revenge.

Well, not exactly.

But Buck had a plan up his sleeve, it just took a few days to execute said plan.

Despite him and Tommy deciding to opt for a costume couple (they compromised and settled on going as Deadpool and Wolverine since they couldn't settle on which Star Wars franchise to pick from), Buck had his on costume he wanted to wear for Tommy.

Granted it wasn't anything outlandish, but Buck knew Tommy had one major weakness.

Romantic period piece movies and shows.

(Buck could freaking memorize Mr. Darcy's line from Pride and Prejudice by now)

Which was why Buck didn't bother to shave for a while, bought tan high waisted linen pants and those billow-ly white "pirate" shirt that would show off his chest. Separately they looked ridiculous, together along with Buck's curly hair and opting to go bare foot, he looked like he walked off the set of a Bridgeton episode.

Which was the goal.

Tommy was working on Buck's jeep when Buck sneaked into the garage.

"You almost done?" he asked Tommy airily.

"Yeah," Tommy stood up and turned around, "Just abou-oumph."

Buck mentally gave himself a high five as he watched Tommy open and close his mouth multiple times, his blue eyes wide. The way he could see Tommy's chest rise up and down was the added cherry on top.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked playfully, watching as Tommy dropped the towel he was using to wipe his hands.

"You look..." Tommy dry swallowed, rushing to get his hands all over Buck. "Hot." he wheezed out. "God, you look- Evan, all you need is the accent and I would get down on my knees immediately." Tommy swore, his fingers dipping under Buck's shirt and brushing Buck's stomach.

Buck used his two fingers to lift Tommy's chin up and in his best British accent (A really good one if you asked Buck) told Tommy, "I take it the gentle sir thinks highly of my attire then, hmm?"

Watching Tommy's eyes dilate and his intake of breath was all Buck needed to know he won.

He already knew where they were going when Tommy started to pull him into the house but he asked anyway- showing off his accent still, "Where are we going?"

"The garage floor is killer on the knees and I have plans for us now!"

[yan-randomfandom]

Kid!Stanley Pines & Kid!GN!Reader

Poor Stanley,,, why is his backstory so sad? This is where MC saw Stan and decided to cheer him up.

🍦

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting its light on the entirety of New Jersey. It peculiarly chose to shine on the Pines twins who were standing outside their lawn.

Ford frowned at Stan's crumpled sign that hung over his neck. Extra Stan, for three dollars or better offer, seriously?

"Are you really sure you'll be okay? I could help you sneak in after midnight, you know."

Stan tutted dismissively, waggling his index finger. "Tsk, tsk, poindexter. It's almost like ya want me to get in more trouble. Forget about me! I'll be fine, I swear."

"Ugh, I just wish Dad hadn’t done this," the former muttered, draping a blanket over the latter's shoulders. Ford looked into his brother's eyes with worry. "But... I'm sure he doesn't mean it. Things are just—"

Stan turned away, brushing him off. "Yeah, yeah. We're poor and stressed and all that. Now, scram! Unless you wanna end up outside like me!"

"...Goodnight, Stanley," Ford sighed, reluctantly leaving him alone. A few more seconds and Stan listened to their front door get locked.

It's quiet now. Nothing but the hushed noise of crickets and wind. Stan sneezed, pulling his blanket closer to his body. He sat on the rough sidewalk; it was better than the ant-infested grass behind him.

Stupid dad, he thought as he lightly kicked the ground. Stupid school.

Stan couldn't stop the tears from pricking his eyes. This is so annoying. Can sleep just hurry up and take him already?

...

A small, but noticeable creak.

The boy whirled his head toward the next house in alarm, locking eyes with you. You stared back with wide eyes, one of your hands supporting your window.

As soon as he noticed you, however, you promptly retreated into the comfort of your dark room.

Stan scoffed, crossing his arms. Great. Now he had the crazy neighbor's kid judging him too.

Whatever. It should be fine. He only had to endure this for one more day.

His eyes closed, his head tilting to his shoulder as he drifted into dreamworld.

...

It's hot.

Stanley fluttered his eyes awake, only to shut them close again when the sunrays horribly blinded him. What a terrible way to wake up...

He felt his dry tongue and cursed under his breath. While rubbing his crusty, sweaty face, he paused at the sound of bells harmoniously ringing.

There's an ice cream truck that was parked many steps away from him. Turning his head, he saw it had just one customer— you. He accidentally made eye contact, then quickly flashed you a smile before looking away and using his blanket to wipe the sweat from his face.

Ugh. This is awkward.

And the heat is unbearable. He needed shade.

...

Footsteps.

As Stan glanced at the ground beside him, he watched as an elongated shadow slowly grow taller by his sitting figure.

He turned and blinked at the sight of you offering ice cream. Your shadow comforted his overheated body even for a moment.

"Hi," you said. "This is for you."

Stan's gaze flickered between you and the ice cream. It was his favorite flavor. "Huh?"

Your hold on the treat slightly loosened. "Oh. Do you not like this? I think I've seen you eat this somet—"

"If you insist, thanks!" the boy snorted, swiping the ice cream away from you. He felt nothing but utter relief when his tongue tasted the cold.

Quietly, you sat down beside him, sparing a small gap between you two. Weird. He kind of expected you to leave right after that. One thing's for sure though—Stan couldn't handle sitting in awkward silence.

"Y'know, ice cream for breakfast is an interesting choice," he remarked, leaning toward you with a curious look. "I feel like it'd be better for dinner. And I'm pretty sure that it's still really early."

You fidgeted with your ice cream cone. "Um. Yeah. It's around eight."

"Eight?!" Stan squeaked, his eyes bulging. He’d normally still be asleep at this hour. It was completely off his sleep schedule. Aside from school— but it's Sunday! "Why are you here, then?!"

A smile curved your lips. "You slept outside. I just wanted to keep you company."

"We're not even friends," he pointed out.

"I want to be," you murmured, looking away from him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." You modestly took a bite of your cone. "I said I bought you."

"Huh?!"

"Your ice cream costed three dollars."

"It did?!"

...

...

...

Ford stared, astonished, at the sight of you and his twin sleeping next to each other. Your head rested on his shoulder, while Stan's head nestled on yours. Both of you breathed gently as you snoozed.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

A Visit

Note: A short one but filled with all the right amount of tension. (:

Your face scrunched up in determination as you pulled yourself up one more time, the burn in your arms mentally pushing you further. Just one more is what you kept telling yourself. You were 5 pull-ups from breaking your record and you’d be damned if the exhaustion kept you from achieving it. Soft rock music played in the background as you could feel the sweat beading down your back and forehead, the small basement windows didn’t do much to cool you down during your workout. Jethro had installed the pull up bars for you, saying something about load bearing beams and it was safer to install them down in the basement. He just forgot to tell you how hot it got down there.

You lifted yourself up one last time before dropping to the floor with a guttural cry of accomplishment. The cold polished concrete floor felt nice against your overheated skin. You took a minute to catch your breath before going over to turn the music up a little louder and begin some simple stretches.

Starting in the butterfly position on your yoga mat, you leaned all the way forward, your forehead almost touching your toes and counted to 10. You moved onto some hamstring stretches and then some hip crossovers when you spotted Jethro at the top of the stairs.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked from the floor with a smile.

"Not long enough," was his cheeky reply as he descended the stairs and stood over you. He was dressed in his work attire, making you wonder if he was just here for a visit or if he had yet to change into his casual clothes.

You sat up on your hands and crossed your legs in a sitting position, cocking your head to the side with a smirk.

"Here for work or pleasure?"

He kneeled down in front of you, his large hands resting on your thighs as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Why not both?"

You gave him what he wanted, sitting up so you could properly wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his short hair. Making out with Jethro was definitely one of your favorite past times. He always took his time, each kiss filled with love and his hands never stayed in one place for too long. Like in the moment, his hands moved from your thighs to cradle your face, fingers creeping towards the back of your neck, angling your head up for a deeper kiss, earning a small moan from you as his tongue met yours.

Just as you were about to really get into it, uncrossing your legs and kneeling on your knees so you were both at the same height, he pulled away, peppering kisses down your neck.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I've got Torres waiting in the car outside for me. I just wanted to stop by and tell you that I might be late for dinner tonight. We're on our way to follow up on a lead."

You groaned at his words and threw him an almost pouty frown.

"You get me all worked up and then just leave me needy. Terrible."

He chuckled and looked down with a smile. "We're in the same boat sweetheart. I come home to find you sweaty and stretching in positions that'd have any man drooling. I can't even stand up right now."

You licked your suddenly dry lips while glancing down at the obvious bulge in his dress pants, before he gave you a warning look.

"I'll make it up to you tonight. I promise."

You rolled your eyes at his insinuation and answered him with a peck on the lips.

"You better."

It only took a few minutes for Jethro to gain control of his body again as you used the time to head upstairs and package some leftover homemade enchiladas for his team, spotting Torres through the window, drumming his fingers on the open car window, clearly becoming impatient.

You met Jethro at the front door, handing him the tupperware of food with a kiss.

"Be safe," you told him, just like every time he left for work.

"I'll try," he teased with a wink, walking out the door. You gave Torres a wave which he reciprocated, eyes lighting up when he saw Jethro headed over to him with food. You were sure the quickest way to his heart was a good home cooked meal.

You waited till they drove off, the car no longer in visibility before shutting and locking the door, headed back down to the basement to finish your workout session.

[liminal-space-lesbian]

Summer Concussions

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: You and some nevermore students decide to enjoy the sunny weather at the lake. Your girlfriend Wednesday hates the sun, but agrees to go anyways. While you are swimming Xavier challenges you to jump off a ledge into the water. You agree hesitantly but soon change your mind, and Xavier doesn't allow that.

Warnings: ooc Wednesday, insecure Wednesday, Xavier being a dick, concussions, blood, mentions of drowning, hospitals,

Words: 3,180

a/n Wednesday is kinda mean at the beginning I'm ngl, but it's just bc shes overheated and stressed I swear

You were rather excited for the day, considering it had been rainy and cold for the past few weeks at Nevermore. Enid decided to seize the good weather while it lasted and organized a day at the lake with Yoko, Divina, Ajax, Xavier, Eugene, and Wednesday. You were surprised your girlfriend actually agreed to come along, considering her distaste for the sun and anything considered fun.

Here she was though, sitting beside you under an umbrella and looking mildly displeased, as per usual. She wore a long sleeve swim shirt and knee length shorts, which you thought were far too hot for the level of humidity today. You had offered her one of your short sleeves but she had quickly rejected the idea. She said it was because she didn't want any more of her skin exposed to the "harmful UV rays" than necessary. You knew that was a lie.

Wednesday may always seem perfectly confident and strong and self assured but you knew she was insecure. It took her three months of dating you to feel comfortable enough to wear a tank-top around you, and another two to wear shorts shorter than knee length. You always did your best to reassure her and tell her she was beautiful- perfect even. Your words could only do so much however, when her own self image was so skewed.

"Do you want to go swimming, Wednesday?" You asked her with a grin as you stood up from where you were sitting on your towel in the sun. She glanced at you with an unimpressed look.

"No, I don't feel the need to flail around in the water like an invalid." She snapped, her tone clipped. You wilted under her words, feeling a bit dumb for even asking.

"Oh." You mumble, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry. Well- do you mind if I go swim? Or do you want me to stay here and keep you company?" You ask shyly, shifting on your feet. You really wanted to swim, you were sweating already and Xavier, Ajax, Eugene, and Enid were playing with a beachball in the water, which looked way too fun. If Wednesday wanted you to stay you would stay however, you would much rather keep her company than leave her to sit alone in the shade. Especially since you felt guilty for dragging her along.

"No, I don't mind. Just because I don't find it enjoyable doesn't mean you can't have... fun." She said the word 'fun' like it plagued her. You searched her expression to make sure she was certain, and you couldn't help but smile at the the way her eyes softened as she looked at you. She let out a tiny sigh and you noticed the sweat beading at her brow from the humidity.

"Okay. Well if you want to join me feel free." You say with an inviting smile, leaning down to give Wednesday a kiss before leaving. She leaned slightly away from you before you could, and you pulled away, giving her space. You noticed the way her eyes darted to Yoko and Divina who were sitting a few feet away chatting amicably. When she was sure they weren't looking in your direction she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You couldn't help but giggle.

"Wednesday, they know we're dating, why do you care so much if they see us kiss?" You tease as Wednesday rolls her eyes.

"Public displays of affection are not my forte." Is all she offers as she leans back on her hands and looks up at you with a nonchalant expression. You see through it though and notice the blush tinting the tips of her ears. The truth was Wednesday was a bit shy when it came to openly expressing her affections with you. She did love you, and she has said so many times, but she also found it embarrassing to be so openly vulnerable in a public space. She felt off put by her own feelings, so used to always being stoic and unaffected.

"You never care when Enid sees us kiss." You protest with a smirk, and an exasperated expression crosses Wednesday's face.

"Yes, well. That's just Enid." She replies simply, shrugging slightly. You found it sweet how comfortable Wednesday had grown with her best friend. It made sense, considering how close the two are after the Hyde attack. You still found it adorable how much Wednesday trusted Enid, even with all her reservations about the werewolf.

"Whatever you say baby." You say with a grin before standing up again and skipping down to the water. As soon as you stepped into the waves you tensed. It was cold. You could feel Wednesday's eyes boring into your back so you turned around and gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up. "The water feels great, you should join me!" You shout, trying to convince your girlfriend to swim. She simply offers an unimpressed and dismissive wave, and you shrug, turning back to the water.

You slowly wade into the lake, moving over to Xavier, Ajax, Eugene and Enid. Enid spots you first and excitedly splashes over to you, causing you to flinch as cold droplets of water land on your face.

"(Y/n)! Want to play pass with us?" Enid asks enthusiastically, gripping your shoulders with her cold hands. You shiver under her touch but smile nonetheless.

"Of course!" You reply enthusiastically causing Enid to squeal in delight. You follow her over to the boys and join in the game, laughing as you dive to try and keep the ball in the air. You play for quite a while before the boys decide to climb up a ledge near the water and jump off.

"Come on (Y/n), aren't you gonna jump too? Or are you too scared." Xavier taunts from the ledge as Ajax does a flip into the water. You know Xavier is just trying to goad you, he's been jealous of you ever since you first started dating Wednesday. You're about to say no when Ajax resurfaces with a laugh.

"Come on (Y/n), it's fun I swear!" He insists as he climbs up on the ledge once more, watching as Eugene jumps off next. Xavier is smirking down at you as he thinks you're about to say no, and you feel indignance rise within you. You glance back at the beach to see Wednesday watching the interaction with a bored expression. 'I want to impress her.' The thought is sudden and loud in your mind, and despite your better judgement you begin the climb.

"Alright, you guys ready to see a real splash?" You ask with faux macho as you climb up beside Ajax. He grins and claps you on the shoulder encouragingly.

"Hell yeah! Just try to jump a bit more to the right since there's more rocks to the left. You'll probably be fine, but better safe than sorry right?" He says, smiling at you as he gestures to the deeper part of the pool. You nod, feeling nerves rise within you as you look down at the water. It seems so much farther once you're up here.

"Tsk, come on are you gonna jump or what?" Xavier scoffs, rolling his eyes. You glance at him and clench your jaw in determination.

"Yes! I am! I'm just- psyching myself up for it." You stall, glancing back down at the water. The longer you look at it the more you don't want to jump.

"Hey, you don't have to jump if you don't want to. No shame if you're too scared, it is a pretty big drop." Ajax says gently, his gaze reassuring. You are about to chicken out completely when you hear Xavier scoff once again.

"Oh come on, she just needs a little push-" With those words you feel two strong hands shove hard at the center of your back. You try to catch yourself, to compensate but you are too thrown off balance. Your feet slip off the edge, and your back scrapes painfully against the rock as you slip. You hear Wednesday and Enid shout your name as your head snaps against the rock, the thud sickening.

You're in the water, choking as water flows out of your nose and mouth. You gag and retch, someone is dragging you to shore. There's blood in the water.

"Yoko, go get Weems!" That was Wednesday's voice. You tried to look around for her but everything seemed blurry and dark. Your nose and throat burned from the water, and the back of your head throbbed steadily.

"Oh my God, oh my God- Wednesday is she going to be okay?" Enid's voice frantically filtered into your ears as someone gently laid you back on the grass. Your back stung at the contact with the ground. The sun was beating down on your face and you squeezed your eyes shut. It was too bright.

"(Y/n), can you open your eyes for me?" Wednesday's calm voice soothed the ache in your head. Someone's hand was resting on the back of your head, pressing firmly. It hurt, but Wednesday's voice made it hurt less.

"Wednesday?" You ask in a small voice, feeling confused and scared. You weren't sure what was going on. Your head hurt, you were cold. You were confused.

"Yes, I'm here cara mia, you're going to be okay." Wednesday's steady voice responded and you felt a shadow move over your face. You opened your blurry eyes and saw Wednesday staring down at you. Her expression was so worried it made your heart race with anxiety. What's wrong? Why is Wednesday so upset?

"Wednesday." You whisper again, more pitifully as years burn your eyes. A whimper rises in your throat as you see Enid hovering behind Wednesday looking horrified. What was wrong? Why was everyone so upset?

"Shh, it's okay." Wednesday soothed, her eyes scanning your face. Your eyes were unfocused and you looked deathly pale. She hoped Weems would hurry up.

You noticed water dripping from Wednesday's braids, and realized she must have jumped in the water and dragged you out. You grew more confused at the realization. How had you even ended up in the water? Oh, right Xavier pushed you.

"Move away from her, let me see." Weems voice spoke suddenly, her tone tight with worry. Wednesday moved out of your line of sight and you were met with a worried Weems. Her eyes scanned over you before she hastily scooped you up in her arms. She was speaking more to Wednesday, or somebody else you weren't sure. Her words sounded like gibberish, and her movements felt like they were in slow motion. You shied away from her, feeling afraid as tears streamed down your face.

You felt strange and hazy as you were placed on a bed of some sort. You were in a vehicle, you determined from the way you swayed in the bed, which you were strapped in to. There were strangers who kept shining lights in your eyes and poking you with things. It was scary. You wanted Wednesday.

Then you were some place else. A bed still, but this one was in a room with machines in it. You weren't sure how you got there, or how long it had been. You felt a bit more attentive than before; more awake. You blinked slowly, the throbbing in your head dulled by whatever was in the IV attached to the back of your hand.

"Wednesday?" You mumble, eyes slowly scanning the room. You were alone, aside from a woman fiddling with your IV. She noticed you were awake and smiled warmly at you.

"What was that honey?" She asked sweetly and you shrunk into yourself slightly. Who is that?

"I want Wednesday." You mumbled, your eyes sliding away from the strange woman to scan the room again. The nurse looked confused.

"No, sweetheart it's Saturday the twenty ninth. What day do you think it is?" She asked gently, trying to bring your attention back to her. You were growing increasingly upset. Why didn't this woman understand? You wanted your girlfriend. You needed her.

"No- I want-" Your words were cut off as the door to the room burst open. There she stood in all her glory, looking damp and disgruntled. Her eyes were wide as she stared at you, worry evident in her gaze as she marched up to your bedside.

"What were you thinking." She scolded, her eyes traveling over your face quickly, like she was searching for injuries.

"Miss, I'm sorry but we can't allow visitors at the moment, she's-" The nurse tried but Wednesday silenced her with a glare.

"She's my girlfriend, I'm not leaving her." Wednesday snapped, leaving no room for argument. The nurse let out a resigned sigh before leaving the two of you alone. Silence fell over the two of you like a blanket as you stared up at your girlfriend, smiling at how pretty she looked. Her bangs were still wet and clinging to her forehead, and her braids dripped steadily on the floor.

"Wednesday." You say with a smile, your tone overflowing with admiration. The brunettes eyes meet yours and her expression softens, the tension around her mouth easing as she gently brushed her fingertips along your cheek.

"What is it, mi sol?" She asks, her voice impossible gentle. You melted at her tone, she only ever talked to you like this when you were alone. How you loved when she was tender with you.

"I missed you." You announce with a grin, and Wednesday can't help the smile that curves at her lips. She leans down and kisses your forehead so lightly you hardly feel it.

"I missed you too." She pauses, her expression growing worried once more. "How are you feeling?" She asks, and you find the question peculiar. You felt completely fine. Better than fine actually, you felt incredible. Your body felt fuzzy. Whatever was in that IV was working.

"I feel floaty." You say, and you can't help but giggle. Wednesday sighs, resting her palm on your chest gently. Her brows are pulled together in concern but she keeps her voice smooth as she speaks.

"Then the drugs are working." She pauses, seemingly deep in thought. "I'm going to murder Xavier." She announces, her jaw clenching in anger suddenly. You blink at her in surprise. You know she didn't like Xavier, but what did he do to make her so angry like this?

"Why?" You ask, your tone curious. She blinks down at you and frowns slightly.

"Darling, he pushed you. What do you remember about today?" She asks, sounding reproachful. You blink at her and try to think back. Everything is fuzzy. You remember swimming with Enid. Playing with the beachball. Wanting to impress Wednesday.

"Uhm... I don't know." You murmur lamely as you blink up at her. "Swimming with Enid." You offer with a shrug and she seems more irritated at your words. You feel a flash of guilt and anxiety. What did you say wrong? "Sorry." You apologize hastily.

"No, don't apologize." Wednesday soothes you hastily, gently cupping your face in her hand. "I'm not upset with you." She reassures as she places another kiss on your temple.

"Xavier pushed you off a ledge into the water and you fell and hit your head. You nearly drowned in the water, and I had to drag you out. You were taken to the hospital, which is where we are now. You also suffer from a mild concussion. I am unsurprised you don't remember much." Wednesday explains patiently, her fingers running along the skin of your face and neck absentmindedly. You loved when she did that, she called it the Rivers. She'd gently trace imaginary patters on your skin while you lay together.

"Oh. Yeah I don't remember that." You say simply as you shut your eyes with a smile, enjoying Wednesdays touch. "Am I going to be okay?" You ask hesitantly. You felt alright now. Your head was still woozy and you were still a but confused, but Wednesday was with you and your head didn't hurt so you were okay.

"You'll make a full recovery. You needed seven stitches on the back of your head, and you had various lacerations on your back, but they will heal. Weems said you can take a break from classes for a week while you recover, and I will take notes for you so you don't miss anything important." Wednesday explains, her voice feeling like honey in your ears. She was so sweet, and warm, and perfect. You felt tears well in your eyes as you opened them and stared up at her. Her expression froze at your tears and her shoulders tensed.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice thick with worry, which only caused you to cry more.

"I love you so much Wednesday." You sob pitifully as you reach up and grab her hand weakly in yours. "You're so sweet and- and thoughtful." You blubber, and Wednesday looks extremely put off and uncomfortable.

"I- thank you." She clears her throat nervously as she tries to navigate your drug induced breakdown. "I love you too." She offers, trying to placate you. You simply sob harder at her words, messy tears streaming down your face. She looks panicked as she tries to shush you.

"It's okay. You don't need to cry, everything is fine." She attempts at calming you, her voice sounding uncharacteristically uncertain. She gently wipes away your tears, biting her lip nervously. "What- do you need anything from me?" She offers, trying her best to comfort you. You sniffle, blinking up at her.

"Can we cuddle?" You plead, pouting at her sadly. She hesitates and you are about to burst into tears again when she heaves a sigh.

"I am still wet from the lake." She protests lamely, and you simply frown. You reach out and grab her swim shirt, pulling her closer to you.

"I don't care." You say firmly, staring her intently in the eyes. She looks lost, like she wants to protest but after a moment she gives a resigned sigh. She carefully climbs into the hospital bed with you, awkwardly lying beside you. You go to turn on your side so you can spoon her but she presses her hand firmly to your chest and pins you down.

"No." She scolds firmly and you immediately relent, her tone leaving no room for argument. She shifts around, stiff and awkward until she lays beside you, her head resting on your shoulder as her arm drapes across your waist. You smile contentedly as you lace your fingers with hers, your eyes sliding shut as exhaustion tugs at you.

"I love you Wenny." You mumble as you begin to fall asleep. Wednesday doesn't even bother protesting the nickname, simply pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before holding you closer.

"I love you too, cara mia." She whispers, and her voice is the last thing you hear as you slip into sleep.

a/n I've never been concussed so if this is inaccurate that is why 🫶

[electrozeistyking]

Hello, welcome to The Rare Bites AU! I was going to draw J and V, but my eagerness to show this to you was far too strong. Here's some notes on it:

-the disassembly drones are pretty much starving and scrawny. uzi hates that her colony basically lied to these guys because they're only attacking because they're desperate to feed. she's like "DAMN WE'RE A BUNCH OF FUCKING LIARS HUH."

-j, n and v are some of the rare few disassembly drones that reached close to adulthood. they're all shaky and weak by this point, but still strong enough to take down a worker if they absolutely pushed themselves to do it. their population has been shrinking for years, due to starvation, overheating and killing their own young.

-"And our parents are leaving these fuckers to starve over one stupid deal they failed to uphold and won't even tell us about?! Like, come on! If these guys were human, they'd be all bony and shit! That's gross! What the fuck is wrong with us?!"

-n unwittingly reveals how bad their situation is by announcing that j and v might kill him in order to feed themselves when they find out he's had more than enough to drink (uzi's like "damn" and gives him some extra oil canisters. the workers have enough as is, so she doesn't bat an eye over having to give any up to disassembly drones).

-because these three don't really have a major reason to hate each other, i like to imagine that n, j and v basically fell asleep in a very shaky cuddle pile in order to feel less alone in this cruel world, and eventually begin to include uzi. at that point, they feel safer and start gaining weight and showing their true personalities. :3

-long story short, they start off in a bad place but then everything gets better because of uzi's input. :3

[kteezy997]

Since I saw those bts Timmy of dune , I need rough sweaty fucking as Timmy’s co star during filming dune 😭

In the Heat of Arrakis// t.c.

Warnings: overheated reader, fainting, pining if you squint, smut, temperature foreplay?, light breast play, female receiving oral sex, cursing

A/N: I hope I did this justice. I would suggest a cold drink with this read.

They had warned you all about this. Just like for the characters in the movie, it was important for you to not be out when the sun was too high. The still suit hadn't helped. In the story, they cooled the bodies of the characters, but they did the opposite in reality. You were all hot and sweaty, and Denis was thick into his vision for the scene, and you all had lost track of time.

You passed out, just for a moment, from heat exhaustion. The sun got to be too much. You were laying in the sand, and when you opened your eyes, Timothee was just above you. There were other crew members there too, all checking on you.

"She's okay. She's awake." Timmy said to the others.

They had brought you under the shade of a tent. They put a fan on you and a cool, damp rag on your head. You felt like you could breathe again. You looked up at Timmy, he gave you a sweet grin, and he smoothed your hair back. His eyes were a deep sea-green in the shade.

"You good?' he asked.

You nodded, "Yeah, thanks." He was so attractive already, but it grew now that he was being so caring and attentive when you needed it.

"You ready to go to your trailer for a while? We're on break from filming until later tonight."

"Yeah, I guess, I can-" you tried to sit upright.

"It's okay, y/n, I can carry you."

Oh god, yes please.

“Oh, okay.” you said with a grateful smile.

As he bent down to pick you up, you put your arms around his neck. With one arm tucked around your back and the other cradling your knees, he carried you away.

“Are you sure you’re alright, y/n?” a crewman asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” you assured them as Timmy stopped briefly.

“Alright just make sure to drink plenty of water.”

You nodded, and Timmy took off with you. You felt safe and comfortable in his arms. “You’re much stronger than you look.” you said cheekily to him.

“Well, thank you, I guess.” he smirked.

......

Timmy got you inside your trailer and sat you down on the couch. "There you go." he said, "I'll get you some water." He went over to the cooler dispenser and filled a cup for you. He brought the cup over to you and you put it to your lips, it was nice and cold, and soothed you in an instant when you swallowed.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Timmy. You didn't have to do all this. You're really sweet."

"Oh, it's nothing really. No big deal." he brushed it off. He had a tiny smile on his face. Always such a flirt. His lips were dry, but still pink and incredibly inviting. He swiped his tongue over them. You had the urge to moisten his lips with your own tongue. He sat down next to you, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked, his green orbs scanning down your face.

You took another sip of water, thinking.

"Anything?" he reiterated with a shrug.

"Would you mind getting me out of this damn still suit?" you sighed, knowing exactly what you were doing, and hoping that he’d pick up on it as well.

Timmy’s eyebrows raised, and he nodded, understanding, “Oh yeah, sure. These things can be so hot, I know.”

You both stood up, and you turned your back to him.

He took ahold of your zipper at the back of your neck, as he pulled it downwards, he started to say, “I’m glad you’re okay, it could have been a lot more serious, you know.”

“Yeah.” you shrugged, “Well, I’m glad you were there to help me.” you spun around, slowly. You faced him, looking into those forest green eyes.

Timmy swallow shallowly, "Um, let me take it down to your feet. You shouldn't bend over, you could get dizzy again."

"Okay." you said with a nod, standing before him in your sports bra that stuck to you with your sweat. The legs of the still suit were still on you.

He bent down, tugging the rubbery suit down your legs, peeling the material off of you.

You steadied yourself with a hand on his shoulder as he helped you step out of the suit. Finally, you were free.

He stood back up, looking at you, "Shit, you are still really red."

"Yeah, it's okay. Do you want to take yours off too?" you asked, gesturing nonchalantly to his still suit. "Might as well be comfortable, we are on a break from filming."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." he said.

"Okay, turn around." you instructed.

With his back now to you, you pulled down his zipper, exposing his pale, muscular back. It was beautiful, so porcelain-like, with no blemish to be seen. You wanted to run your fingernails down his perfect skin. You had the urge to mark him up, to make him yours.

Timmy took it upon himself to pull his arms out of the suit. You watched his slightly pinked, sweaty body as it flexed with his movements. He tugged the suit off his legs, and you noticed that his boxers were soaked through with sweat.

"Your skin is kinda red too." you pointed out.

"Yeah, I got an idea." he declared, moving around the trailer, back to the bathroom. You heard the water run for a moment and he came back with a wet towel. "It's too dangerous for you to get into a cold shower right now. It could fuck up your nerves. So let's just try this."

He held the wet towel out to you, and you let him press it to your hot chest. It was such great relief. You sighed as he slowly, gradually moved it around, letting the coolness soothe you. "Ah, feels good." you said softly.

He put the towel along the back of your neck and you realized that you were just inches away from him. You opened your eyes and he was watching you, so intently.

Your bra was wet with your perspiration, and now the cold water from the towel and it became quite uncomfortable. "Would it be okay if I took this off?" you asked.

He pursed his lips a tiny bit, then he nodded.

You pulled the soaked bra off and tossed it on the floor, feeling better now to be rid of the wet garment.

The towel in Timmy's hands found its way to your naked breasts. Your nipples hardened at the touch of the cool cloth. Your breath hitched quietly, but you could tell that he noticed.

He licked his lips, looking at your lips. His eyes slowly scanned down your neck, your collarbones, then to the mounds on your chest covered by the towel. Your nipples peaked through the material. He palmed your tits through the towel. Then, you knew that this wasn't just a friend helping a friend.

"Here," you gently took the towel from him, your warm hands grazing his cold ones, "let me." you said, simply. You put the towel to his chest. He moaned with relief, biting his lip to stifle the sound.

Timmy placed his cold hands on your throat, gently holding you. The coolness transmitting from him to you. You moved the towel lower on his body. His thumb touched your jawline. His hands soon worked their way up to your flushed cheeks.

You let the towel rest at his waistline, covering his navel, between the v-lines on his hip. You heard him faintly shudder at the sensation, the cold was soothing to him also.

Staying cool, however, was not keeping its place at the forefront of your mind. His fingers settled near your lips, and you kissed the pads of his fingers, nibbling on his digits that were still cool though it had been some time since they had touched the towel.

"I wanna kiss you." he admitted with a ragged breath.

"Then do it." you dared, without hesitation.

He pulled you in, with a sharp inhale, his lips were on yours. Hungry, eager kisses were partnered with running his hands down your body. He cupped your breasts and pulled away from your mouth. He leaned his head down just a bit, and you felt his breath on your cold tits. He held one in his hand and took your nipple into his warm mouth.

You gasped as his tongue lapped at your nipple. Timmy moaned as he swirled his tongue and sucked your tit. He left your nipple with a soft graze of his teeth.

He then kneeled down, pulling your sweaty panties down. Once he got them off, his mouth met your pussy. He held your hips as his shoved his lips between your folds, leaving open kisses onto your clit.

"Ahh." you moaned, throwing your hands into his hair.

Timmy stuck his tongue out firmly on your clit and shook his head back and forth.

"Fuck!" you cried, feeling the tingling in your lower belly. You found it difficult to keep standing still.

Moaning, he steadied himself, and suckled your clit. He alternated between sucking and lapping with his tongue.

You were huffing, your chest was heaving. He looked up at you, his fluffy hair a mess, his lips glossed with your slickness, and he smirked at you. "Come here." you demanded of him.

Timmy stood up at once, kissing you. You both wrapped one another up in your arms, your skin sticking together with its tackiness. He picked you up, taking you over to the couch. He put you on your back, and he lay on top of you.

The two of you made out shamelessly, groping each other's bodies, and moaning like a couple of overheated desert animals.

Your hands went to his lower back, moving down to his ass. You tugged at his boxers, which were clinging to his skin.

He stopped kissing you to help you take the only remaining clothing article off of him. He dropped the boxers on the floor. His cock was hard and leaking precum. He looked at you, his eyes were glazed with lust, but you could practically see the light bulb pop into his brain. "I got another idea. Hold up."

You waited just a few seconds and he came back with the towel, after getting it wet again. You watched as he wrapped his stiff cock with it. He hissed lightly. He then tossed the towel onto your chest. It was icy cold, but still, it felt good.

"Let me know if this helps to cool you." Timmy said, parting your legs, and taking his cock in his hand briefly, placing it inside you.

Your leg muscles tightened as your pussy clenched around his cold cock. "Oh, my God." you panted. That was one way to bring down your body's temperature.

"Ah, fuck." he groaned, holding your legs, bucking into you at a quick pace. He rammed into you, smacking your wetness and creating pornographic noises. As he brought you to the brink of your orgasm, you gave in to the urge of marking his back with your fingernails.

Timmy groaned as you dug into him, but he didn't stop fucking you. In fact, he thrusted even harder, and he tapped your face lightly. You gasped, then giggled in response. He shook his head at you, grinning.

His curls fell in your face as his thrusts slowed up. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your warm skin. He panted heavily for a moment, then you heard him hum lowly as his cum spirted into you.

The wardrobe crew wouldn't notice the marks on his back, would they?

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @tchalamss @softhecreator @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[kakushino]

Hullo fabulous writer! If you're still taking requests, could I beg kindly for a Genya x female reader? While I would love an NSFW with him, I understand if you would prefer not to. I love the boi so much and he needs love!

Fuck me

Shinazugawa Genya x Fem! Reader

He thought you were a boy. He was wrong.

Horny thoughts took over, sincerely sorry this doesn't have more plot

orz

Tags: sex pollen trope, first time, exhibitionism (kinda? they're alone in the forest tho) Word count: 1,3k

Masterlist

You had met during training under Himejima. 

Him, a kid hurt and hurting, and you, a runaway trying to find a place to go on in.

Genya was confused why you had a separate room from him in the sanctuary but he reasoned it had something to do with your past, and given his own, he wasn't about to pry.

You bonded over the brutal training Himejima put you through.

Sitting under a waterfall for hours brought you closer, shared misery from the cold and the aching muscles forging a friendship based on silence, on gritted teeth and on wet hair. Both of you had to shave most of it off as it took too long to dry, and the risk of catching something was too high. More than once, you'd stripped off your tunics and huddled close to share your warmth.

That was before either of you hit puberty though.

You had learned Total Concentration Breathing from Himejima, where Genya was unable to do so. That sent you to the Final Selection a year earlier than him - and while you came back victorious, you also came back with a bandaged chest. You never took them off in Genya's presence. It was alright; if he could, he'd also hide the facial scarring he had.

A year went by and he joined you in your journey as a demon slayer, the pair of you traveling together, training together, eating together. You would sometimes get irritable, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Everyone has a grumpy week here and there. 

Despite your closeness, there was still a wall between you - you never went to the onsen together, you never slept in the same futon, even if sharing one would be easier, and you each did your own laundry.

Years passed. 

The demon you faced today was elusive. That was all there was to it. It ran to the forest and hid in the mist, the air smelling like overripe fruit as you trudged through the flowers growing from moss.

Genya had his gun out and loaded, you held your katana ready, both of you covering each other's blind spot. The darkness of the forest made your hunt crawl at snail's pace.

In the end you didn't find the demon, it found you.

With a screeching laughter, it launched itself at you, you barely blocked its claws with your blade. The force of it knocked you off balance, and you fell to the soft mossy flower bed, clouds of white mist spewing up from the ground, the tumble making the demon roll off of you.

A gunshot rang through the forest. A few soft steps. 

"Are you alright, pipsqueak?"

You groaned, a strange heat spreading from your lungs outward, the strange sweet scent overpowering. “Just fine. I-” Then, it hit you like a landslide.

You cried out, oversensitive and overheated. You rolled onto your side, sheathing your katana. Your binder chafed against your nipples, sending electric shocks to your pussy, and you knew you were soaked in seconds. “Fuck-!”

“What’s going on? Hey-”

Eyes unfocused, your hand brushed against the flowers you were laying on when you tried to get up. It was the damn flowers. A fog as heavy as the flowers created settled over your mind in that moment.

"Fuck me, Genya," you rasped out in desperation. You had tears in your eyes as you clumsily tried to unbuckle your belt, kneeling now. 

He was staring at you wide-eyed, arms raised in a placating gesture. "But, we're both men." A flush took over his face, and his breathing deepened. He’d also inhaled some of the pollen.

You froze momentarily. "Genya, I swear to god-" You finally undid the belt, and ripped open your jacket, being a little gentler with your shirt. "I'm a woman."

His flushed face became even redder, this time it was him who went as still as a statue. But despite that, there was an incessant need crawling under both of your skins. The aphrodisiac made you stop undressing to paw at his clothes instead. You needed him.

"Fuck, get naked. I can't go on much longer-!" You tugged his purple tunic off, undoing the buttons of his jacket as he hesitantly reached for his belt. 

“Are you-?”

“Yes! Now, strip!” you gave up on his shirt and just undid his belt, pulling both his pants and underwear off. Tsk, as if you wouldn’t be sure. Not sure when molten rock flowed through your veins and urged you to be faster, to find something to fill the emptiness, to stop the heat, to-

Genya’s world was spinning. Not only because of you manhandling him in ways that made his dick throb, nor because of the fog you’d both inhaled, but because he just found out his best friend of years and years was in fact a woman. 

How had he been so blind? You pushed him onto his back into the damned flowerbed that rocked his world. How had he not noticed? He grabbed your hips and pulled you against his aching cock, dry humping against your covered cunt, the feeling so good but not enough.

“Genya~”

“Fuck-” 

You moaned his name so prettily, he needed to hear more, to feel more of you, he needed-

You rolled to the side to tug your pants and panties off. As fast as you disappeared off his lap, you re-appeared and now it was your wet cunt against his cock and it felt so good he never wanted it to stop. 

If you continued for much longer, he’d cum before he even got to be inside of you. “[Name], I-” he was about to tell you so, but you only raised your hips a little and lined him up to your entrance. His hands gripped your thighs in a bruising hold when you started to sink on his cock, both of you moaning in sync as you felt a small amount of relief.

You didn’t hesitate and started a pace of rising and dropping down, quick and messy. Each time your ass met his thighs, you felt like screaming; it sent shocks of pleasure from your tummy outwards, your pussy kept fluttering and tightening as you chased the ecstasy you needed.

Genya was struggling to hold out. Your snug cunt was too divine - the first time you sank down, he was about to lose his mind. He could do nothing but take it, hips bucking up to meet you erratically, as desperate for his pleasure as you were for your own.

Who knew sex felt this good?

This was better than his own hand by far.

Before he knew it, he cried out, grabbing your waist and slamming you down onto him, spilling deep inside of you, making you groan in turn. Genya cursed like a sailor, gritting his teeth.

He may be finished but you weren’t. 

You dug your nails into his arms so he would let go of you. When he did, you continued your desperate movements. 

Genya keened like a wounded animal, overstimulated. “Wa-wait-! I can’t-!”

“You have to-!” You stared at him as you rode him through the pain and pleasure; his face was red, eyes glazed over, lips open and a little bit of drool gathering at the corner of them, tears streamed down his cheeks. You could not stop, would not stop. It felt too good to stop.

“Ngh-” He clenched his eyes shut, clawing at the moss underneath him. This wasn’t how he imagined losing his virginity.

One hand braced on his shirt-covered chest, you slipped the other to your clit, trying to get off quicker. 

You were riled up enough that one, two, three tight circles on it made you shatter. 

You threw your head back, muscles taut, pussy milking Genya’s cock for all it had left. Your ears rang, someone was whimpering, someone was whining, you didn’t know who did what, you just collapsed onto a warm chest, arms wrapped around you as you trembled in post-orgasmic bliss.

“That was… something,” Genya panted out, hands rubbing your back as you tried to catch your own breath.

“Thank gods- hah- that you killed the demon, ugh, before this hit, huh?”

Taglist: @sunandflame @flametrashira @misty-angerose @irene9900 @i-literally-cant-with-this @gingerspicelattemix

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