#still hate drawing guns they are so hard to draw

[mc-tummy-blur]

Back to back with the Die Hard art because it’s my blog and I can do whatever I want

Click for better quality

Check my pinned post to see how you can help the people of Palestine

[gigisriley]

you should go read oh silent god on ao3. for no reason in particular (CLICK THE IMAGE I HATE TUMBLR GRRRRR)

[yameoto]

RUSSIAN ROULETTE. CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

piltover / zaun civil war

tw; dark!caitlyn, prisoner!reader, blowjob, gunplay, gunjob? gunfucking, drastic power dynamics, degradation, humiliation, bondage, hate sex, bratty!reader, noncon. dead dove. rape. wc; 1.9k ao3 vers.

WHEN Piltover's oh, so fearless leader strides into your humble abode, you can already tell she's having a bad day. Caitlyn's eyes are bloodshot. Hells, she’s still in her uniform. The tresses of silken, inky locks are no longer taut ponytail—stray strands dangling, tangled, cheeks nicked with dried blood. You doubt it's her own.

Your first instinct, as a prisoner chained to the wall and completely at her mercy; is to act like a right fucking brat. Because that’s been working out so well for you, thus far.

“Rough day?” not that you could give a single fuck. “All tired out from gassing out children on the streets? Poor baby."

Caitlyn remains silent as she dismisses the guard with a flick of her wrist, and you're still talking. Yipping away like a dog snapping at her heels. "There are other ways to solve wealth inequality than killing all the poor people, you know." Her stare is glacial.

God, the mouth on you.

She’s considered moving you to her family’s personal prisons. Though, keeping Zaun's lauded revolutionary locked-up in the Kirramman's basement would draw a couple eyebrows. The dungeons under the council-room you so lovingly blew up, along with her mother, suffice.

“Paint a portrait,” You sneer, like the little shit you are. A bloodstain clinging to her sole, that she hasn't scraped off yet. "How 'bout you shoot a gloryhole and fuck that instead, princess."

So you do see the bulge she's packing. Good. She's been aching to unload in you, all day.

"I'm not in the mood for talk." Caitlyn says, coolly, shoving the cellblock door open and stepping inside. Clearly. Her cock is pulsing. She hasn't even made the effort of the usual charade, in drilling you with that perfunctory interrogation sequence—for the benefit of the enforcers stationed at your cell. (Shame. you take your petty joys in turning up your nose and spitting in her face, like some structured caricature of foreplay).

You have such tight lips. Caitlyn delights in prying them open.

“Knew you couldn’t resist. Come back for another round, already?” Somehow, you manage to sound cocky, even though there's a smear of her dried cum streaked just below your brow, from just this morning.

Caitlyn tries to be good. She really does. You just make it so hard.

“Hold this for me.” She orders, like you're one of her little soldiers waiting on her hand and foot. A snarky reply about the shackles around your wrists is on the tip of your tongue. No matter. Caitlyn forces the barrel down your half-open mouth anyway, before you could so much as say bang.

“Mmf—“ Cold metal forces your mouth apart. your eyes widen, pupils swallowing up your irises. This is new. For a moment, blind panic seizes your body, because there is a gun in your mouth. It's not like you don't know there's a guillotine with your name inscribed. (All, 'cut the head off the snake', or whatever eloquent, prissy-spun bullshit Caitlyn spits in your ear as her nails scrape the walls of your cunt).

It's been too long. The war could be over, for all you know. Though, you wouldn't put it past her to keep you past your expiration date.

Speaking of, Caitlyn doesn’t even bother to hush you. She only thrusts, further—far enough to bruise your throat and stop your incessant, muffled whining. Your gag reflex triggers. Unbidden, tears sprout, to burn behind your eyelids. Silently, you buck.

“Oh, don't be so dramatic. You’ve taken worse.” Caitlyn rolls her eyes, languidly pushing the pistol in, and out. In, and, out. She guides in smooth, composed motions—never letting up enough to allow you more than seethe, breathing harshly through your nose. “It’s good practice."

The fiifth time you gag, she finally lifts the barrel out. You were never one to waste the opportunity to snark, even if you really should be saving your breath.

“Holding a dress rehearsal for my public execution? I'm. You must really like me, doll.”

“Oh, no,” Caitlyn drags metal, over your lips. It's warm, from the time it’s spent crammed down your throat “for gagging on my cock.”

Even though you’re expecting it, you lash out—momentarily ripping the veil off your faux swagger. Caitlyn tuts, though she gets a vivid lick of satisfaction from seeing you, bare, for once (and goodness, how much effort you take), before shoving the gun back in place. You fix her with a glower that seeps with pure, divine, hatred—chapped lips puckering goadingly around its muzzle. Screaming for her, to just fuckin' do it, already. Caitlyn almost admires how you haven’t lost your rage, your viciousness. It's the one thing you have in common.

She swiftly upticks the revolver, and jerks it out, callous. The roof of your mouth snags on its sharp-whetted sights, and blood sluices down your throat. You can’t tell the taste from the metallic tang of metal. A string of pink saliva connects its spitsoaked barrel to your sputtering lips, chest heaving.

“Don’t have the balls to take the shot, huh?” You spit, as if there isn’t enough of that smeared over your chin, pooling helplessly into your collar.

“Should you be so lucky.” Caitlyn smiles, the bitch, as she swoops downwards, markedly unblemished hands grasping your jaw. Of course, you think, lividly. Of course Piltover’s own general doesn’t get her hands dirty.

Although, she makes an exception for you. How sweet.

Caitlyn foregoes further fanfare, pushing you downwards. Your limbs fold in on themselves—a lion, declawed. The feeble thrash of your arms, bound at the wrist and hastened to the iron-wrought wall—are no match for the demanding brace of Caitlyn’s thighs as she slides gracefully to her knees, elegant hand seizing you by the throat.

"But I’d make such a pretty martyr," You wheeze, hyperaware of the click of Caitlyn’s belt unbuckling. All of a sudden, you miss the cool sensation of a pistol in your mouth.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, adores this angle. How your eyes sear. Jaw clenched, hollows sucked in rage and hunger—as if you would blow the brains out her head if you could. Seething, at how she has the opportunity herself, but denies you the satisfaction.

Instead, you get this. She untucks herself at a leisurely pace, almost marvelling at the way her cock descends in a mighty shadow, darkening your face. You scowl. Her free hand shoots out to smush your cheeks, the moment you bare your teeth and open your mouth to talk back. So predictable.

“Perhaps if you didn’t spit your food out at the guards, you’d have the strength to put up at least a little fight.” Caitlyn teases, too lightly for the context, as she lines up her flushed, swollen tip against your furiously jammed lips. A gob of pre-cum spouts from the slit, marring your cheek

"Maybe I was saving myself the trouble of hurling it up after we're done."

Caitlyn rolls her eyes. Pushes her head up against your pursed lips. “What are you? The world’s most grating ventriloquist?” She remarks, snide. She's weary of playing games. She needs it, now.

How she's grown so painfully hard, over this whole ordeal. You'd think she’d feel shame over it—so turned-on by something she sees clearly beneath her—but who wouldn’t get off on using their worst enemy like this? You'd do the same, if you were in her position.

At least, that’s what she tells herself when she shoves her cock down your throat.

"Ah.." Caitlyn shudders, the same time muscle memory has you sucking. Her neck arches back in open relief, hips bucking as she presses you, nose flush against the trimmed strip of dark pubes.

Her strokes are torturously slow. The most humiliating thing is the plap, plap, plap sound of her balls slapping against your chin, resounding in the empty dungeons. there is no audience—probably because nothing about this screams Noble House of Kiramman—or even legality. then again, neither does launching nukes into Piltover's place of governance. Tomayto, tomahto.

She withholds her moans for your own benefit, just so you can listen to the obscene sound of yourself, suckling along her dick. Caitlyn’s drags are lazy, relishing the beautiful suction of your lips. Slips herself far enough down your throat, for your swallows to turn to audible gulps, as you try not to choke.

She's not quite yet done. Her fingers dart downwards, twisting your panties aside.

“I don’t even know why you bother wearing these. They’re disgusting.” Rock-hard, a sore reminder of how routine this has become. She hooks them on her pistol, before promptly flicking them across the room, revealing the miserable, glistening wetness of your cunt.

Fuck. Your pussy is sodden like a cat left in the rain, dripping all over the carpet—much to your self-loathing. Caitlyn’s smirk is unrepentant.

“You're getting off on this? You're even dirtier than i thought.” She muses, as you glower hotly upwards, cheeks full of her. “I do hope you used your tongue.”

You're briefly confused by the comment, because, well—you are using your tongue and more—until the slick heat of your pussy swallows cold steel, and you gasp—walls straining, clenching around the foreign intrusion. Caitlyn eases the revolver in, with surprising gentleness. not that it does you any good.

Your spine arches off the wall, mangled noise ripping from your throat. Caitlyn shoves her length in, deeper, an impromptu silencer. “Don't whinge, darling.” she husks, knowing you loathe the pet-name. "It's unbecoming."

She never hurries, despite having places to be. Is it her fault that it feels so good to fuck your throat, like this? To pulse her gun in your cunt, almost playful, as she watches with the hooded eyes how your pussy greedily slurps the pistol to its hilt, before coming out again, glazed with the evidence of just how filthy she knows you to be. Her finger slides over the trigger, voice coming out in a breathy murmur.

“Bang.”

Caitlyn cums in thick, gooey spurts down your throat. Her head lolls back, shoving your head to practically kiss the sharp angles of her pelvis as you take it. Of course you take it. All your bravado, and still, you swallow her load like a beaten dog lapping at water, all the while, her pistol stretches you open. You don't plan it. God, it's like your body has a life of its own—a Pavlovian response, to the taste and feeling of Caitlyn trickling down your throat—but you orgasm like your life depends on it. Maybe it does. Your legs quake, limbs jerking, shoulder-blades scraping against the gritty brick walls as your entire being yanks itself upwards, like a marionette on strings.

When she pulls the revolver out from your cunt, this time; it is creamy white that strings from your helplessly pulsating folds to its hollow. You hiss, cheeks burning, panting—scrabbling back. An animal backed into a corner.

Caitlyn holsters her revolver, dripping with your sweat, your blood, your cum. Always on her person, yet as uncocked as the day it was minted—chamber still full. It’s only purpose is to fuck you stupid. She stands, buckling her belt back up, as you lie there.

“I'll break you, yet.” She promises.

Blood rushes between your ears, back scratched to all hell, bruises at the back of your throat. She’s splattered all over you. You grin.

“Should you be so lucky.”

Caitlyn scoffs, and iron bars screech shut behind her. You know you'll see her again, come sunrise. Or; you’ll know sunrise, come Caitlyn, again.

Tomayto, tomahto.

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[hotshotsxyz]

this town is only gonna eat you

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1.1k) already wrote some buck-gets-hit-by-a-car spec, so how about some buck-gets-shot? kept thinking about "take eddie [to the laker's game] and die" and uh... here we are. cw: mass shooting/ gun violence (described vaguely), somewhat graphic description of a bullet wound, blood edit: now featuring a companion piece

Buck is smiling when it happens. Grinning at Eddie like he hung the fucking moon as he points out what must be the hundredth interesting play he’s seen on the court tonight. Buck’s smiling.

Eddie registers the screams before the gunfire. He smells the metallic scent of spent shell casings before he sees the shooter. He tackles Buck to the ground before he realizes he’s already hurt.

Buck was smiling, but now his face is inches from Eddie’s and his eyes are wide with pain and panic.

“Eds,” he says, and it’s barely above a whisper but it’s still too loud.

Eddie shakes his head, a tiny, sharp movement. Buck takes a shaky breath and presses his lips together. He understands. Eddie hates that he understands. Thank God he understands.

There’s something warm and wet slowly spreading between them, and it takes Eddie several wasted seconds to realize it’s blood. He’s almost completely certain it isn’t his, which—

God, that’s so much worse than if it was.

One of Eddie’s hands is still cradling Buck’s head, an instinctive act of protection before they hit the ground. With the other, Eddie slowly begins feeling his way around Buck’s abdomen. His fingers brush against torn fabric and he feels nauseous.

I’m sorry, he mouths before pressing down hard.

Buck gasps in pain. A muscle in his jaw ticks with the effort it must take him to keep from screaming.

“You’re doing so good,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s ear. “I’ve got you; I promise.”

The bullet caught him somewhere along the fifth intercostal space on the right side of his chest. Eddie doesn’t have a way to feel for an exit wound, not without letting up pressure on what he knows is there.

At best, the bullet glanced off a rib and tore through nothing but skin and muscle. At worst…

At worst, Buck is dying beneath him and there’s not a damn thing Eddie can do, not until the shooter is dead or gone. All Eddie can do is pray. Pray and hope like hell that God has forgiven him for his incomplete confession.

Another spray of gunfire echoes through the arena. It’s nearly impossible to identify where it’s coming from, but Eddie’s got a vague idea based on the direction people seem to be running in.

Buck takes a ragged, watery breath.

For the first time in his life, Eddie hopes he’s crying. He draws back, just far enough to look Buck in his eyes. His eyes, which are clouded over in pain but free from tears.

Fuck, fucking goddamn it.

Eddie presses his cheek against Buck’s.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay?” he whispers. “You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The tiniest whimper escapes Buck’s chest.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shuddering breath. “I just need you to hold on,” he begs.

A single shot rings out, and nearby, something falls to the ground with a dull thump.

“Suspect is down!” someone shouts. “We’re clear for EMS.”

Eddie carefully extricates his hand from behind Buck’s head. “Hear that? We’re so close, Buck.” He brushes a thumb across his cheekbone, then sits up and raises his hand in the air. “Over here!” he shouts. “I’ve got a penetrating chest wound that needs to be on the first ambo out of here!”

Buck’s eyelashes flutter as he fights to stay conscious.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says.

With his free hand and his teeth, he tears a strip of fabric from his shirt to wad up and press into Buck’s wound.  The skin there is ragged and torn, almost certainly an exit wound. Eddie curses.

“I need EMS now!” Eddie roars, not tearing his eyes away from Buck for even a second.

“I’m coming to you!” someone calls back.

Buck’s eyes slip shut.

“No!” Eddie commands, rubbing his knuckles across Buck’s sternum. “You’re staying right here with me, you got it?”

Buck groans weakly. His eyes flick back open.

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie babbles. “Just keep—c’mon, Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

Buck’s lips part. “Hurt,” he breathes.

“I know,” Eddie says desperately, “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

A pained sound falls from Buck’s lips. He lifts one of his hands just high enough to ghost his fingers along the ruined hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Behind him, Eddie hears a gurney roll to a stop.

“Here!”

Eddie turns and find a young woman, no more than twenty years old, wearing a polo that declares her part of a private ambulance service. He doubts she’d weigh even a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

Buck’s eyes widen. He makes a strangled sound. “Hurt,” he coughs out again, fingers scrambling uselessly against the concrete floor of the arena.

“They’re gonna give you the good stuff at the hospital,” Eddie reassures. He lets go of Buck’s wound and pulls him into a seated position, then rolls him awkwardly onto his back. “I got you,” he says as he stands.

Eddie staggers beneath Buck’s weight but manages to get him down three rows worth of steps and onto the gurney without the young EMT’s help.

“We’re staged just outside the north entrance,” she says as she begins to push Buck toward a set of doors.

Eddie nods sharply. “He’s got a perforating chest wound, probable pulmonary laceration, and a history of pulmonary embolism. Allergic to naproxen,” he rattles off as he pushes the gurney alongside her.

“Um, okay, that’s—are you a doctor or something?” she asks.

“Firefighter,” Eddie corrects. “We both are.”

The closer they get to the exit, the harder Eddie has to work to keep pace with the EMT. He must be coming down hard as the adrenaline fades. A few spots cloud the corners of his visions. He blinks them away.

The doors to the outside fling open, revealing two paramedics from the 136.

“Diaz, is that you?” one of them asks.

The best Eddie can do is nod.

“Shit, and that’s—”

Eddie’s ears start to ring.

“Diaz, were you shot?”

No, he tries to say. One of the paramedics grabs him under the shoulders, and the other pushes his t-shirt up until—

Oh.

Huh.

He has been shot.

The paramedic in front of him is saying something, but Eddie can’t quite understand it. Over his shoulder, the EMT looks blurry and horrified.

The spots in his vision return with a vengeance, and in his last few moments of lucidity, it occurs to Eddie that the bullet in his abdomen is probably the same one that ripped through Buck’s chest.

Then, the world fades to black, and Eddie thinks nothing at all.  

[kari-sims]

Tomiko Moriyama (she/they) as my entry for the Total Drama Sims season 3 by @jonquilyst!! (thanks for letting me participate <3)

also huge wall of slightly amusing text below the cut (you've been warned!) cause i was caffeinated and ended up having some fun with this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

👩 Age: 14 🪐 Lives in: Strangerville 🐛 Goals in life: to open a bug museum 💖 Orientation: thinks girls are cute, but doesn't want to waste their short teen years chasing them around (that's what the 20's are for!) 🎶 Hidden talent: encyclopedic knowledge of kpop girl group's songs and dances 🥇 Honorable titles: -> 'Mighty Collector of the Fun Hats' -> 'Prestigious Ambassador' at the ''International Bug Diplomacy Federation'' (only actual human member, but it'll grow, just wait!) 👍Likes: iridescent beetles / cut rock hard candy / slippery mud you can draw on / putting googly eyes on random things 👎 Dislikes: homework / cleaning things that'll get dirty again / humans evil bug killing inventions (unless it's a laser shooting death ray gun for mosquitoes, cause yeah, even a bug loving girl hates those bastards!)

[RECORD 434, another sunny day in strange Strangerville]

🔴 ▶ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

(sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by what's obviously a kid trying to speak in an exaggerated deep voice)

Tomiko: "Tomiko is a girl who didn't need a home with walls or windows - the roof to her 'home' has always been the sky above." (pauses, mutters to themselves) Ooh that's a good one! Wait, people will think i live in the woods, no? Wouldn't that be the dream…

(moment of silence as Tomiko daydreams, then remembers she just started recording)

"Tomiko doesn't have many friends, because she was destined to be a free-spirited loner. With the exception of Clarisse, a girl who dreams ofbecoming a marine biologist. Clarisse was made fun of by strangers on a dumb internet show she went to one day, all because she wanted to win the money and go on a trip to Sulani. Now everyone calls her the 'Dolphin Girl'. After Tomiko decided to console her at lunch in school, both of them ended up bonding over their crazy obssession with nature. They've been inseparable friends ever since."

(another pause, followed by an audible sigh)

"Well, they were inseparable, until Tomiko moved away. Now Clarisse is being weird for no reason... anyways, where was i?

(forgets why they went on a Clarisse tangent and starts to fumble with their unorganized notes)

"Oh yes, destined to be a free-spirited loner, ya-da ya-da. Unfortunately, Tomiko was forced to live in a boring house made of bricks, with white furniture, and a mom who was always mad about her muddy boots on the carpet."

(voice shifts to mimic the mom's screech)

- I'm not gonna raise a savage wild child! Since you love dirt so much, go live with your bum of a father in that Strangerplace world, or whatever it's called.

"Best thing to ever happen to me!" (voice switches to normal accidentally, then goes back to the fake deep one) - I mean - best thing to ever happen to Tomiko! Even though her dad looks kinda weird lately, walking around aimlessly at night in search of his mother. Classic dad, being a weirdo. No idea how this man got married..."

- Dad, I told you grandma still lives in Willow Creek. Why do you think she's in the middle of the desert? Also, she wouldn't be caught dead wasting away her fabulous heels in this god-forsaken place.

"Tomiko pretends she doesn't see it, because now she can do whatever she wants, why complicate things? The only problem is, there isn't much to do in Strangerville with the infection rumors going on, and all the damn sus soldiers. Also, the taste of travelling for the first time has left her wanting to see more. Imagine all the bugs she could find?! But you need money for that, sooo… what to do, what to do…"

(voice returns to normal, a bit defensive)

"Okay, fine, I'm the one recording this… (sighs) I know what you're thinking - "just steal from your dad!". Seriously, who do you think I am? Anyways, I did something else instead. I heard there's this competition with other teens where you get to travel the world, and guess what? I signed up for it! Without my parents knowing, of course, but that is irrelevant. They won't even notice I'm gone, I fear. I just hope the organizers don't ask for their permission, because Clarisse was the one who knew how to fake signatures, but now she's hanging out with other kids at school, and thinks she's better than me."

(inhales, then proceeds to speak loudly at a wall, probably)

"Like... Nina? The enemy? Be so for real right now Clarisse! My life is just grand without you! I'll get to travel the world and educate people on how bugs are friends, and definitely NOT disgusting or too dangerous! Well, most times. I'll also prove that even if you're a weird bug loving kid like me, you can still have a chance at a game that requires you to make friends. It'll be eaaasy! In a few weeks I'll be like, Clarisse who? Hahah!"

(brief pause on their flex-rant, which is totally NOT a defense mechanism because she's hurt by them growing apart. They return, slightly worried)

"Do you think I can die in there? Cause gosh, let's hope not! Imagine going on an adventure of a lifetime and not being able to tell people about your heroic deeds... that'd be so lame! Anyways, I'll see you when I see you, whoever is listening to this… Tomi out!"

🟥 ▶ •ııııııııııııııııı•

[RECORD ENDS]

wow if you're still here, thanks for reading, you wonderful bean! here, have a cute snail

(´・ᴗ・)>~🐌

[hasmadara]

Some Beast Wars redesigns!! Annotations below :3

Edit: wow mobile quality is terrible, i hate you tumble

INFERNO

I went very heavy with the knight imagery, serving his rrroyalty!! Went with a mix between a trapjaw ant and turtle ant because I wanted a shield. He has dual flame-throwers on his back/shoulders connected to the ant-butt because might as well add another mix with the yellow crazy ant, that sprays acid (in this case flammable liquid) through it's rear!

Being grabbed by those extremely strong, extremely fast mandibles of the trapjaw ant before being blasted by a flamethrower to the face sounds like a wonderful time <3

RATTRAP

Rattrap I wanted it to feel like an Italian mobster, I think I went a little too on-the-nose but, I like it! He has a fedora-type helmet, with a lovely cigar alongside some hidden suspenders and I tried to make the rat head have a tie - on his wrists he has tools such as lockpicking devices, torch, other things ;)

In my continuity he's primarily infiltration and sabotage, with a heavy preference for explosives

RAMPAGE

Rampage was fun, I stuck heavily to his BW design but I wanted the mutant freak part of him to be more emphasised. So, the crab has teeth. And 6 legs? I gave him extra arms because it would be quite hard to grab things with those mega pincers, but also extra arms are cool as fuck. He also has spurs and leg-guns because, again, cool as fuck. I love how his biolights turned out!

I didn't want to spend time drawing massive guns but he does still have his rotating grenade launcher thing - it has all sorts: hellfire missiles, acid bombs, napalm grenades, and other nightmares <3

DEPTH CHARGE

Depth Charge was very fun also, I wanted his colouring to be extremely opposite to Rampage's so he has very muted cool tones while Rampage is blindingly bright. He has twin remora-shotgun things on his shoulders, and I wanted the manta to be more manta, less metallic. I enjoyed doing the gold highlights to add a bit of grandeur and elegance to him.

In my continuity his primary weapon is the Blades of Chaos from GoW :'))

[jinxvex]

can we get jinx w a very doting gf :3

♱ gf!jinx x doting (affectionate)!reader ♱

yes!! i love this request! 🖤 oneshot vibes fr!

cw: a bit angsty at first, little snippets of act 1/season 2,SFW & NSFW!!!, smutty drabble at the end, jinx pushes you into a wall once, you're very affectionate (obv), kissing, hugging, dirty talk, tribbing, praise, dom-ish!jinx & sub!reader, etc etc

wc: 1.4K

jinx had nothing; no one.

not after the her attack on piltover.

her unhinged, yet powerful act of rebellion ultimately caused a war between the city of progress and the dangerous underground city of zaun.

and had forced her into hiding…

i mean, what was worse? being caught by the stuck-up, zaunite-hating, piltie goons who murdered her mother and father or being alone?

she often contemplated that question.

she contemplated her future.

was any of it worth it now that her sister wanted nothing to do with her? now that she’s laid her adoptive father to rest in the contaminated murky river? now that she has a bounty on her head?

she wasn’t sure.

she wasn’t sure if anyone even gave a damn about her or whether she lived or died.

“it’s all just… pointless!” she replayed on a loop in her head, the place that has always been too loud and too daunting for her comfort.

jinx was alone.

well, until she met you.

as jinx sneakily roamed the dark and dingy alleyways of zaun in her not-so-discreet disguise, she was met with (almost) complete and utter silence. which casts an eerie feeling of unfamiliarity within her bones.

the lively (although still dangerous) streets of zaun were usually bustling with people. drunks, shimmer addicts, salesmen, crooks, and goons alike typically overcrowd every inch of the sunken city, which used to allow her to go wherever she pleased without anyone noticing her.

since the enforcers started raiding the city and imprisoning the people of zaun, a petty punishment for her own wrongdoings, many zaunites didn’t feel safe. they opted to stay inside, shut themselves out, and draw the blinds closed to prevent them from being taken too.

as jinx continues to walk towards her destination, “home”, a wave of loneliness washes over her, a feeling she so desperately had attempted to rid herself of for years.

she isn’t inclined to speak, though. not out loud to empty space or to the voices. maybe she’d save that for home.

as her head is angled downwards, looking at her dragging feet, she turns another corner in order to make her way back to her humble abode.

and all of a sudden, she bumps into a hard, human-shaped object? as she backs up menacingly after plummeting into something, she slowly brings her head up and is met with the sight of… you.

“a girl?” she exclaims in her head.

“a pretty one.”

“does she live near here?”

“wait! does she know who i am?”

“is she here to kill me? take me away?”

“no. no! i can’t let her.”

“not now…”

“damn it!”

her thoughts overflow with endless possibilities and scenarios that cause her to grip your shoulders and harshly back you up into the hard surface of a cement building without warning.

you gasp loudly, but as you bring your hands up to fight back and protect yourself from whatever is about to come, your moments are suddenly still.

as you look into her pinkish, vibrant eyes, you’re met with fear. you’re met with anger, loneliness, and suffering, which prompt you to freeze. her face is littered with fresh cuts, scrapes, and scars. your heart squeezes in empathy as you look into each other's eyes—jinx not even having the energy to reach for her gun out of concern for herself.

“you’re hurt.” you mutter softly. your caring nature immediately wanting to help her. jinx. and yes, you know of her. that doesn’t matter to you now.

her eyes still gaze into yours, even as she removes her hands from your shoulders.

“yeah, tell me ‘bout it, sweetness.” she laughs almost mockingly, not towards you, but at herself.

“want me to clean that up?” you point your chin up at the wounds on her face.

she blinks at you incredulously before allowing a smirk to grace her features for the first time in what seems like forever.

“damn! take a girl out to dinner first, babe.”

you smile.

… ( mini time skip!! a couple months)

jinx wasn't used to physical and emotional affection. love. let alone romantic gestures. silco looked after her but struggled to give the affection a parent would once he took her in all those years ago.

at first, she was incredibly taken aback by your willingness to help her even though you knew who she was. you knew who she was and still allowed her to lead you back to her workshop to patch her up. after that day, spent cleaning her wounds, you never left.

she was enamored by you.

by your ability to love.

you were moderately affectionate in the beginning, but as the weeks passed, your excessive praise and doting intensified. at first, it was lingering touches on her face after you insisted on "checking" her facial bandages. then it was moving her hair out of her face and caressing the sides of her head when she's in an episode.

once you started coming up behind her as she was working on her gadgets to link your arms around her waist and lay your head on her shoulder, she was hooked on you.

she did initially flinch and curl out of your touch, but as she took in your scent and realized it was you, she relaxed. she accepted you.

...

"just me!" you exclaim happily as you nudge your face into her neck, and she softly gasps when you give her small, gentle pecks.

"hmmph! you're too sweet to me, buttercup! scares me sometimes..." she fluctuates the tone of her voice from happy to unsure and back to happy again.

one thing she is sure of, though, is her love for you.

as you peer up at her from the side of her neck, you tighten your arms around her, "you deserve it. all the hugs, kisses and love!"

you both never felt a need to verbally establish a label on your relationship.

the night you took each other's first kiss, there was a mutual understanding. you were hers, and she was yours.

when she's with you, the voices quiet, and the visions aren't as prevalent anymore. she feels safe. not just because she's in hiding, still successfully dodging piltover, but because you're there.

although that is the case, you still make her crazy for you.

your unconditional affection ignites a fire inside her that loving you could only put out.

...(nsfw incoming!!)

"s-shit, babe! fuck!" her voice echoes throughout the seemingly endless depths of her workshop as she circles her hips and drags her wet cunt against yours.

your moans and little "oh my g-god!'s" adding to the music that is your pussies grinding together to make filthy sloshing noises.

"fuckin' pussy is so so good, bunny! pl-eease!" she begs you, although she's the one above you, her hand pushing one of your legs up to rest on her shoulder and her other hand pressing your leg down onto the couch. her ass is perched on your upper thigh to allow her to buck her hips up into your cunt as close as she possibly can.

"yes! yes! more, baby! you feel so good!" you babble as you lay back, looking up at her through your eyelashes. she's sitting right side up as she continues to hump your cunt with her eyes glued shut in concentration.

she can feel every pulse, every throb of your heat as she chases her high, and it affects her deeply.

"you're perfect, y-you know that?" you question. "fucking perfect. i love you so much!" she almost stills. that "perfect" word causes her heart to beat out her chest. she slows down slightly as she opens her eyes and looks down at you, looking back at her lovingly.

now inspired by your praise, she then speeds up, even faster and rougher than before.

"yeah? yeah? 'm perfect, baby? you loveee me?" she asks you mockingly as she stares into your eyes.

"yes! you feel so good. so perfect! fuckin' love you! need ta' cum! you scream out.

"mhm! thought so. then show me how good you're feelin' and cum all over me." she demands of you. "make a mess on this pussy, toots."

she lets out a "give me that shit, baby" and a "need my sweet girl to cum, so fuckin' nice to this pussy" to urge you on.

"fu-uck! right there! i'm cumming!"

"shit, me too!"

...

as you both come down from your high, she eventually lets your leg down and sits you upright to hug you tightly.

she feels so appreciated, so loved in the moment that she cups your jaw with her shaky hands and kisses you hard.

"i love you, hon. you're so..."

"i love you too, pow."

...

and y'all live happily ever after, and the events of act 3 NEVERRR happen!!! 😜🥳‼️

[noodlewritez]

Dirty thief

Pairings: Carl Grimes x Savior!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Negan's kid!reader, hate sex (But they actually hate each other so no kissy kissy stuff), really gross, sloppy oral (M!recieving), cussing

It was 3:39 AM. You throw your rope over the side fence of Alexandria. Sneaking your way around to the armory, unaware of the blue eye watching you from across the street.

Earlier that day, you had gone with your dad's right hand man, Dwight as he was picking up supplies. You saw the armory, looking through the door window, seeing the guns, the gorgeous detail on the guns. Knowing your dad, Negan, wouldn't let you have a gun, you planned to take one, in the middle of the night when no one was awake. You knew they had guard watchers for the main gate and the main gate only so you had to go through the woods to get to the side. You land in a cul-de-sac, running lowly so no one could suspect anything.

You make it to the armory, slamming your body harshly but quietly against the door, popping it open. You're suddenly on the ground, tackled by a tall teenager, someone around your age. You could barely make out any features, the only recognizable trait being the hat you saw on the leader's son that day. This should be easy.

You get up and punch him in the jaw then he pushes you to the ground. "You fucking thief!” He whispers harshly at you, pinning your wrists to the wood floor. You kick him in the hip, getting up and attempting to run before he grabs your leg and slides you under him, straddling you now.

You notice the bulge in his jeans and you smirk and stop fighting back, letting him keep your wrists pinned. "Are you fucking enjoying this?" You spit harshly. His eyes widen but he quickly tries to hide his surprise that you noticed the state he's in.

"Shut the fuck up." He growls. "Tell me that all you want, but I'm not the one who's harder than a fucking rock, now am I? You fucking like that you pinned me down and you sure like the idea of us fucking so cut to the chase and do it already." You spit. He contemplates, still pinning you down, straddling you then rolls his eyes. "You better make this fucking quick."

He releases your wrists, standing up and unbuckling his belt while leaning against the nearest wall. You follow, waiting for him to fish himself out of his own jeans. You roll your eyes as you get fed up. "Jesus fucking Christ, do I have to do everything for you?" You dig his hard, angry cock out of his jeans, sliding them down to his ankles. He takes control, his fingers, digging into your hair as you take him in your mouth. "Fuck, do I have to do this everytime to shut you up?" He pants.

Your spit drips down onto the wood floor and down the throat he was using, soaking your shirt. You fingers hook around the back of his legs, pushing him further down your throat, now feeling him deep in your throat, your nose now buried in his loins. Now, you can fucking taste his sweet precum as he whines, moaning. His hands fasten his movement on your head, up and down his hard length, throwing his head back. "God...dammit..." He gasps, he was getting close.

You pull off of him, standing up to remove your shorts and your soaked panties and shirt when he picks your right thigh up, his other hand pumping his cock and rubbing it against your clit, teasing you. "You said you wanted this to be quick." You try not to whine at the sensation, scratching his back harshly, possibly drawing blood. He inhales sharply and slams into you, feeling all eight inches inside your spongy insides. He lifts up by your other thigh, pressing your whole body against the wall, biting our shoulder, making you hiss.

He starts pumping into you relentlessly, utterly using you to get himself off. You pant and squeeze your eyes closed as you try not to make a pleasurable sound, not giving him what he wants but god, the way he was pounding right on your spot. You moan, scratching his back, digging into his back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." You chant, getting dizzy as you feel your orgasm building itself up.

You dig your nails into his back and squeeze your eyes shut once more, waiting for the orgasm to hit you as there was no sign of him stopping. He feels you clenching and slows his place, smirking. Your eyes open. "What... the fuck?!" You pull back, looking him in the eyes with an angry look. "Oh...I'm sorry, did i stop something?" He smirks. "Want me to keep going?" He coos mockingly.

"Keep fuckin' going, Grimes." You growl and with that, his hips start snapping against yours once again. You throw your head back against the wood walls and bite. "If only you looked as good as you fucked, Grimes, Christ...." You whine as his pace picks up. "This is all your fucking good for. Just a hole for me to fuck." He pants, looking down at you sucking him in, the sight getting him off more than it fucking should. You feel your orgasm crawl back closer to you, your hands finding his scalp and pulling his hair.

"God...."

He smirks, finding pleasure in you trying to hide your sounds. "Fuck, anyone else know what a little slut you are, or do you save it just for me?" He growls in your ear and fuck, that's what breaks you. You cum all over him, coating him, you throw your head back, pulling his hair tighter in between your fingers as you moan loudly.

"God, you are just a fucking slut, liking it when I insult you." he smirks, pounding non-stop until he groans and leans his weight on you, spilling into you. "Fuck...Fuck." He moans.

He pulls out, both of you standing on wobbly legs now. You pull your shorts on, strutting out of the door as confident as you can muster as you pull your shirt on.

You don't see him again until Dwight takes you for the ride to another supply pick-up. You get out of the truck to see him except this time clothed. You flush as you see him, walking towards him when Dwight wasn't looking. "You're limping." He bites back a smile. You roll your eyes, that's all you need.

"Until next time?" He looks you up and down then winks at you.

Next time?

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠…

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬

જ⁀➴ Stuck in my ways - partynextdoor. Long drives. Bartender. Doesn’t drink. Nonchalant as fuck. Slowly falling for stripper!reader. Yapper. Tom Ford, Ombré leather. Homebody. Never late for a shift. Protects the dancers like his life depends on it.

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

જ⁀➴ Youforia - Mac Miller. Party girl. Stoner. Brown lip gloss. Juliette has a gun, not a perfume. Stiletto nails. Life of the party. Fluffy coats. Hates her job. Dirty martinis. Girls girl. Shopping sprees. Prada.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠,

You let out an exaggerated sigh, your breath misting in the cool, damp air. Pulling open the back door, you make your way down the hallway and into the dressing room. The chatter of the other girls talking about their usual clients and what dances they plan on doing tonight fills the florescent lit room.

“Hey,” you smile at your coworker. Sitting in your chair, you pull out your makeup bag beginning to touch up your makeup. Luckily, you’d worn your skimpy outfit underneath a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants so you didn’t need to change today.

“Saturday night! You excited?” Your coworker asks as she draws a line of glue on her false lash. You nod in response, setting the concealer beneath your eyes.

Saturdays are the busy days. The most money but the worst customers. Rich businessmen would drop any amount of money if it meant they’d get a private dance from you. Offering to buy your ‘love’ as if they didn’t have wives of their own waiting for them at home.

“Sure…” you draw out the word, applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. The both of you go back to your own makeup routines, women applying heaps of lotion to their legs behind you.

You finish your makeup, pulling off your comfortable clothes to reveal the lewd outfit hidden underneath it. You glance at yourself in the mirror, knowing damn well you look sexy. Looking good meant performing good and performing good meant money.

Walking out to the floor, Purple and red neon lights flooding your vision as you head straight to the bar first. Chris, the bartender, nods at you and begins pouring you a shot of vodka.

“Hey pretty, it’s busy tonight.” He hands you the small glass. Downing the shot, you hand it back to him, opening your mouth to respond.

“Mhm… trust, I’ll be back for another shot. Or two… or three.” Chris shoots you a sympathetic smile, adjusting his ball cap. He watches as you trot your way to the stage.

The whistles and cat calls of half hard men are heard over the thrumming bass line that bounces off the club walls. Putting on a performance face, you step onto the platform, twirling around the pole a few times.

You don’t look at the men, you never do. It disgusts you, the fact that this was how they relaxed. Some of them visiting at least three times a week. Instead, you watch Chris, watch him serve the sober, watch as he falsely laughs at the same three jokes that he’s told.

Three private dances and one absolute creep later, the night stills. Most of the dancers had already left but you stayed and counted up your cash at the bar top. Chris stood on the other side of the bar, cleaning out the last of the used glassware.

You have stacks upon stacks of cash from tonight alone. Those idiots would willingly go bankrupt for a fucking lap dance and it shows.

“For you,” Chris smiles warmly, placing a martini glass in front of you. A toothpick which impaled two green olives was leaning against the inside of the glass. He had made your favorite, a dirty martini.

“Thanks.” You reply, it coming out more dry than intended. The bartender leans against the counter, resting his chin on his hands and cocking a brow at you. “I’m fine,” assuring him with the dry huff of a laugh, you continue counting the cash you’d earned.

“Don’t look it. What’s got you so upset t’night?” Chris presses his lips together, waiting for a response.

He’s been working at this damned club since you first started two years ago, always been nothing short of respectful to you. Taking time to converse with you after you perform, making sure no customer ever made you feel uncomfortable or laid their hands on you. Shit, if a man in this club ever laid hands on any of you dancers, Chris would go ballistic. You’ve heard plenty of stories.

Working in a strip club, you’d assume most men only did it for one reason. Chris didn’t though, He was here simply because the money was good. He never eyed any of you up and down, never hit on you. He was incredibly reverent when it came to you dancers.

“Just tired, it’s hard work, y’know.” You frown, bundling a stack of twenties and shoving it into your money bag. Resting your head against your palm, you toy with the toothpick, sucking off an olive. “Shits actually exhausting.”

“Well, you know I admire it. Not in a fucked up, perverted way. But like, damn, I sure as hell couldn’t do that.” Chris stutters over his words slightly. Straightening out his posture, he returns to cleaning out the bar glasses.

You nod, understanding what point he’s trying to get across. Quickly chugging the cocktail that’s meant to be sipped on, you stand up from the bar stool, about ready to leave for the night.

“You okay to drive? Y’drank a lot more than usual tonight.” Chris inquires. He always seems to pick up on the smallest things, like the slight frown on your face as you sat at the bar.

“I’m chill.” You answer, standing up from the bar stool, you collect your tips, bagging the rest of it and tucking it under your bare arm.

“Better safe than sorry. Let me take ya home.” He finishes the last of the dishes, drying off his hands and padding himself down for his keys.

Willingly, you agree. This is Chris, the bartender after all. He wouldn’t let anything harm you. “Yeah, just let me go grab my stuff.” You motioned to the back room, disappearing to clothe yourself and grab your belongings.

Respectfully, he waits outside the room for you. Leading the both of you out to his car, a sleek black coupe with tinted windows... Sexy. He’s taken you home a multitude of times in the past, each time he’d ask you about your life outside of work and you’d do the same to him. You thoroughly enjoyed the drives with him actually. Getting to know him on more than a workplace level, It was refreshing.

The ride to your home is calm, the soft beat of R&B plays throughout his car speakers while he tells you about the bizarre customers he’d dealt with tonight.

“I told the guy he was cut off ‘n he deadass growled at me. Like a fuckin’ dog!” He laughs blandly at the memory, his eyes never leaving the road in front of them.

“No way… god, I hate working at a club. Being considered slut and shit.” You admit, the thought that only consumed the crevices of your brain finally setting themselves free on your lips. It felt as though an anvil had been lifted off of your chest.

“I don’t think you’re a slut at all, actually. I know it’s a good way to rake in money so I don’t blame ya.” He defends, slowing down at a stop sign ahead. Chris looks at you for a moment before continuing the journey to you home.

"Well, thanks. Gets the bills paid and shit but that's about it." You reply, picking at a loose thread on your sweatshirt.

The rest of the drive is mostly silent, Chris would occasionally rap a few verses to himself and you'd hum along to the songs you knew.

"Call me before you come into work tomorrow, I'll give you a ride." He offers, since he basically stripped you of your car tonight.

Tomorrow. It seemed so far away but it’d only be a few short hours before you had to wake up and repeat the cycle all over again.

“Thanks, bartender.” You tease, earning a small chuckle from Chris. He watches as you make your way to your front door and doesn’t drive away until he’s sure you’re inside and safe.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

A/n: My first au! Omg I have soooo many ideas already pleaaaase send asks about them I’d love to answer

[low-budget-korra]

Let's talk about the kidnap scene

Yes, the one in season 1 where Jinx kidnapped Caitlyn

First of all, the main reason Jinx hates Caitlyn is because she is jealous of Vi. The fear of losing her sister again, the fear of being left behind...In Jinx mind at the point, she and Caitlyn couldn't co-exist in Vi's life. Sure, the fact that Cait was an enforcer plays its part, but mainly I believe it was just jealousy..

So, I've seen people arguing about Jinx having more reasons to hate Caitlyn than Caitlyn has to hate Jinx and I disagree.

Jinx has no reason other than jealousy to hate Caitlyn, her beef is with Piltover and everything she thinks Cait represents and not Caitlyn the person. Similar to the Equalist and Amon beef against the Avatar, where he hated the symbol but couldn't care less abt the girl behind it. In this case, both Amon and Jinx dehumanize their enemy, seeing them just something that needs to be destroyed.

However, Caitlyn has all the reasons to hate Jinx. Jinx was responsible for a terrorist act that killed several enforcers and almost killed her, Jinx stole from Jayce (someone Cait sure loves like a brother) something that could be turned into a weapon, Jinx invaded Caitlyn's home and kidnapped her when she was the most vulnerable, Cait also spend hours at Jinx mercy where Jinx did/say God knows what to her, she was bound and gagged, she was victim of Jinx light emotional torture, she was knocked out by Jinx and Jinx killed her mom. So yes...I think she has tons of reasons to hate her.

But let's focus on the kidnap scene because the trauma Caitlyn suffers here is overlooked and probably something she didn't process right, since she was busy mourning the death of her mom.

1. Jinx invades her safe place. Caitlyn was literally coming out of the bath, totally vulnerable. Imagine someone sneaking into your room like that? It's terrifying. It makes the safe place not be safe anymore

2. Caitlyn was naked. Imagine you, naked, in the hands of some unhinged criminal? I know some people hc or question if Jinx did something against Caitlyn at the moment, but I doubt it, Jinx is unhinged but she wouldn't do such a thing. The maximum thing she would do is mock. Idk, say something like "so that's what you use to seduce Vi" just to make Cait feel uncomfortable but nothing more aggressive than this.

Even still, being naked, possibly mocked and being forced to dress at gun point is already traumatic enough.

3. We don't know what happened when Cait was being held hostage by Jinx. If Jinx used some help to bring Cait to Zaun, which I think she did, she prob off them once they got where she wanted. And if this happened Cait prob saw these murder.

Anyway this is all hc but what we know, bc ain't hard to deduct, is that Jinx played mind games with Cait. Drawing a smile in her gag, maybe invading her personal space by acting the same way she acted around Silco and Sevika - being all touchy and over the place. And maybe saying things like "you will die today" "she will choose me"

Which again, is traumatic enough.

And if she just knocked her out and dressed the unconscious Cait, imagine being Caitlyn: One moment you're out of bath, saw Jinx and boom, you're out and when you wake up you're dressed and helpless, tied to a chair.

I would be terrified by the idea of what happened when I was out. Jinx could have done nothing but cover her body, but Cait doesn't know this. She doesn't know what Jinx did and if someone else saw her like that.

4. The "Family Dinner" scene.

Caitlyn was there with Silco before Vi's came. So I think the fact that she was sitting next to the most dangerous man in the under city, was something that brought shivers into her spine, even tho he was in the same position as her. If somehow he gets free or Jinx changes his mind about what she would do to him, she would be gone.

Vi came, brought by Jinx and the emotional torture begin. Sure, Cait and Vi were already in love but Jinx was Vi's sister, the one she already knew Vi loved deeply and would do anything to have it back so she was probably scared that Vi would play into Jinx game and choose her sister. Something that didn't happen and is the reason why Caitlyn didn't shoot Jinx when she gets the chance.

Vi saved her life by putting her own on the line, Vi proved she loved Caitlyn right there (even without knowing it). And Caitlyn proved she loved Vi when she didn't shoot the Jinx (again, even without knowing it)

And all that, all those strong feelings and traumatic events were crushed because of the even more traumatic event that was Caitlyn's mom dying because of Jinx's attack.

[solarsturniolo]

ik you've been critical of the triplets before (breath of fresh fucking air tbh)

wanted to know what you thought about the whole mallory situation? she made a tiktok saying she was concerned about their physically aggressive behavior and how she didn't think it was right that they would act like that, and they responded to her tiktok in a friday video. idk i certainly have thoughts but i wanna hear yours if you're ok with sharing them

Oh i was waiting for this one.

To start, THIS IS NOT A HATE POST. But it is something that needs to be said. I’d also like to clarify that i’m not trying to ‘clock’ anyone in this post. This is not meant to spiral out into another episode from them or their fans, but if they aren’t going to be good role models for young impressionable children, I will.

First and foremost, absolutely nothing about the way matt reacted in that video was okay. He is 21 years old, he is a grown adult that pays bills and taxes. He should not be laying his hands on anyone in an aggressive matter, even if they are just brothers. Whether you agree or not, that was abuse. Here is the Oxford dictionary definition of the word abuse, for those of you who need clarification.

Now of course, including content like that in a video is an option. And it was an option that they decided to take. Nick DID NOT have to leave that in the video, and if he hadn’t it wouldn’t have caused so many issues. What gets me the most is that some part of him KNEW it was too much because he edited half of that moment OUT of the video. We saw the extended clip through their photodump that shows just how obnoxiously aggressive Matt’s tantrum was. Not only did he hit Nick (quite hard and in a very vulnerable spot), but he also took a gift that Nick had gotten (gag gift or not, it doesn’t matter) he threw it onto the ground and told him to go and pick it up. The average person knows better than to behave that way, and it was very alarming to see that behavior from someone that we all look up to.

This led to a large divide in the fandom. Some people were (understandably) very uncomfortable with Matt’s behavior. And some people defended it with their lives. Now i’m not saying me and my sisters never fought, but we don’t lay our hands on each other. Idk maybe im out of touch with some new-found sibling abuse agreement or something, but we don’t hit each other. We argue, we get mad at each other, we fight and we make up.

Personally, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with calling out your idols when they do something wrong. At the end of the day, we’re all human and we all make mistakes. It’s easy to forget that when you let fame and money get to your head, making you feel invincible because you know your bandwagon of 13 year olds are going to be at your every beck and call. It’s our job as supporters to remind them that mistakes are okay, but accountability still needs to be taken for actions like that.

When you are in a position where you pay your bills by posting your private life on the internet, you cannot get angry that people are going to have comments and opinions about the stuff that you post on the internet…Nick made a comment in yesterdays video about how people need to mind their own business, but…you…willingly posted…that clip to the internet. For millions of people to see. Nick did not have a gun to his head while editing that video, he did not need to include it but it was a decision that he made.

One reason why i don’t watch them anymore is because they refuse to take accountability for anything that they do. They have also been drawing this out much longer than they needed to. The fanbase would’ve talked about it for a week and forgotten about it with the next friday video. The only reason why it’s still getting attention is because they so badly want to seem ‘unbothered’ by it but they keep bringing it up in everything they do. Matt’s instagram story, his comment on Nick’s recent post, their recent tiktok…literally anything that they have posted in the past week and a half, Matt and Nick just CANNOT HELP THEMSELVES from making a snarky comment. It’s a very icky trait to have imo but i’ll keep my mouth shut on that (since it’s illegal to have opinions in this fandom.)

Personally, I think Mallory was valid in her opinion and responses. Maybe terrifying was a strong word to use, which she has addressed, but it’s not like the boys don’t use hyperboles ALL THE TIME. And nothing about her video was her trying to “cancel the triplets”, she was simply sharing her concerns with Matt’s behavior.

The fanbase LOVESSSS to jump to conclusions. Most of us that had an issue with Matt’s behavior were not trying to cancel them. We’re frustrated because they’re grown adults who refuse to take any constructive criticism or accountability. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, the boys dislike ANYONE who is NOT AN ENABLER. Especially Nick. They LOVE an enabler that doesn’t call them out on their crappy behavior.

Back to yesterday’s video, I was VERY unimpressed with their responses. Snarky comment after snarky comment, only proving more and more that they aren’t unbothered by the situation because they’re trying so hard to prove a point. Why not stay silent like you do with everything else? Your ‘friend’ (who you still communicate with but won’t publicly hang out with) who was cancelled for contacting minors? Didn’t have much to say about that did you? But the second something makes them look bad, they jump the gun and go right into defense mode. It’s so funny to me because people would respect them so much more if they just took some accountability, reflected on their actions, and made a change to their behavior.

Including her tiktok in their video was yet another choice they made, and it was a very immature one. You cannot tell me they didn’t think about the outcome of this situation. Singling out ONE PERSON’S VIDEO, putting a target on their back, and opening the gates for these 13-15 year old hellspawn brainwashed sturniolo cult fans to go and cyberbully someone for having an opinion (and a respectful one at that.)

Also trying to blame Chris and saying Matt was ‘provoked’ into hitting Nick???? Chris made a simple comment??? And this is NOT the first time Matt has gone overboard in a reaction he’s had to one of his brothers. He’s had many outbursts, all of which ARE concerning. Throwing things aggressively, hitting, punching, cussing your brothers out on camera…it’s fucking humiliating???? I am so sorry to break it to you all but nothing about that interaction was Chris’s fault AT ALL. So for Nick to pin it on his younger brother, i found it absolutely ridiculous.

And, to sum it up, Nick did not ‘clock her’. I’m sorry but his responses when people call him out always remind me of a middle schooler. He refuses to take any accountability. HE edited the video. HE kept the clip in. HE posted the full clip on their instagram. NICK STURNIOLO DID THAT. HE DID NOT HAVE TO DO THAT.

Can’t wait for reacting to hate comments part 2!!! Because, let’s face it! This isn’t hate, it’s the truth. I’m not an enabler and apparently that makes me a hater.

And yes, they over-do the drama for our entertainment, but they’re so much more entertaining when they’re all getting along?! Even if they have an argument, it’s far more entertaining when they aren’t hitting and kicking and punching. I genuinely think their emphasis on the physical aspects of their videos came straight from the tea party video, because it’s just gotten worse and worse since then.

I haven’t watched them in months and decided to watch that video and it was a clear reminder as to why i don’t watch them anymore. This is not a hate post, i will always be grateful for their videos because they’ve gotten me through some of the darkest moments of my life. From abusive relationships, to losing a loved one to suicide, to the loss of a childhood pet, to losing my job, to trying to take my own life…I am beyond grateful for their videos and I always will be. That being said, i think they have some serious maturing and reflecting to do if they want to continue to grow at the speed they were growing at a year or two ago.

Yes i think Matt is a sweet guy. No i don’t think he meant anything serious by hitting nick. The point is that it does make some of us uncomfortable to see that behavior from a grown man because so many of us have experienced abuse. I’m not saying we’re weak or snowflakes for our responses either. Posting your outbursts on the internet for 6-7 million people to see is a choice, and you cannot expect it to come without consequences.

[ikeromantic]

Ikesen Boys React to Tattooed MC pt 1

This was an ask from @otomedad that I just had to write. I did some reading up on the history of tattooing in Japan and there was so much that I found super interesting. So! Here goes, starting with Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Masamune! Approx. 1500 words.

Nobunaga

“What’s this, fireball?”

You feel Nobunaga’s breath tickle your shoulder blade, his lips so close they almost brush your skin. For a moment, you don’t know what he means. It’s hard to think when parts of you are being ‘claimed’, afterall. But you smile as the memory comes back to you. Sitting on a stool, arms braced on the counter in front of you, with the buzz of the tattoo gun in your ear. “You like my koi?”

His fingers brush the inked design, tracing the outline of the leaping fish. “It is very well done.” He does not sound pleased, though he’s trying to hide it.

“You don’t.” A slight pout draws your lips out and down. 

Nobunaga stills behind you, so motionless that you don’t even feel him breathing. Just as you are about to break the silence, he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest. “It is part of you, so it is beautiful.” His chin rests on your shoulder, just above the tattoo in question. “Why did you receive this mark?”

There is an unexpected tension in his voice, and you laugh to ease it before explaining. “I got it after I graduated from design. It represents my struggles, and my determination.” You turn your head to kiss his cheek. 

He regards you with a serious expression, tense despite your affection. 

“Do you really hate it?” You can’t help how vulnerable you feel as you meet his carnelian gaze.

“I told you. It is beautiful, as you are. But . . .” He pauses, a slight grimace crossing his expression. “I do not like that someone marked you. Someone else claimed this -” He leans back to spread his hand over the koi. “Every part of you is mine.”

“Are you jealous of my tattoo artist?” You grin, unable to hold back. “You know I picked the design and the colors and everything, right? He was just some guy with a good flash book . . .”

Nobunaga’s frown does not ease, though you know that he’s aware this is ridiculous. 

You snuggle back against him. “Alright, alright. I understand. If you could do tattoos, I’d get one from you, ok?”

Something mischievous flickers in his gaze and a slight smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “Yes. This is acceptable.”

You aren’t sure what he’s accepting. Nobunaga can’t do tattoos, right? Right? Whatever questions you have disappear as his lips find that sensitive spot at the back of your neck. 

Hideyoshi

You roll up your sleeves to start working on the kitchen’s herb garden. The day is warm and sunny, promising a hot afternoon. It’s a good thing you’re starting early. 

About an hour into the weeding, Hideyoshi stops by with a tray of cool water and a wide straw hat. He kneels beside you. “You know it’s bad for your skin to be exposed to sunlight for so long. Even in the morning, you can’t -” He stops midword, his mouth hanging open.

“Hm?” You look up, dusting your hands off. Before you can ask anything else, Hideyoshi grabs your elbow.

“What is this?” 

You realize he’s pointing at the serpent tattoo on your forearm. The snake curls over itself in a complex circle, with the head pointing at your wrist and the tale toward your elbow. “Oh! Erm,” you give an embarrassed laugh. “That.”

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” Hideyoshi holds your arm up, inspecting it. “A thief. I should have guessed. What prefecture is this? Where are you really from?” The questions come lightning fast, his usual gentle lecturing tone replaced with a hard, brittleness that does not suit him at all.

“A thief? Are you serious right now?” You try to yank your arm back, going from bewildered to angry. 

Hideyoshi pulls you up to standing. “If you won’t answer my questions, maybe you’ll answer Mitsuhide’s.” He glares at you. “I can’t believe I - I called you my sister!” 

You take a breath, trying to hold in the tears suddenly threatening at the corners of your eyes. Sister. Why was this man so infuriating? First putting you in the sis-zone, and now accusing you. As if you hadn’t shared so many sweet moments. Almost-kisses. Holding hands. “Why are you freaking out about my tattoo?”

“It marks you as a criminal.” He sighs, looking away. “If you’ll come clean with me, maybe we can -”

“Come clean? Hideyoshi, I told you I’m not from here. In my ah, my village, people get tattoos because they like the way they look.” You wiggle your arm in his grasp. “This one means the cycle of life. Birth and death. Look at it!”

Hideyoshi slowly turns back to examine the mark on your arm. “It is . . . very finely done for a - a punishment.” He purses his lips. “And I do not know of a prefecture that uses a snake . . .”

You nod emphatically. “Exactly. And you know me. Hideyoshi?” Your tone brings his gaze to your face. 

He studies you for a moment. Then his grip loosens on your arm, the pad of his thumb stroking your inked flesh. “I may have, um, jumped to conclusions. My apologies.” A breath, then, “Sis.”

“Thanks.” You take your arm back, feelings still hurt. 

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. Then he drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side. “Let me apologize properly, after work tonight. Stop by after your bath and I’ll rub some oil on your arms and legs.” Hideyoshi’s cheeks hold a faint heat. “A brother should care for his sister when she’s working so hard.”

You know he knows there’s nothing brotherly in the touches you share, but you nod in acquiescence. Then you pull away. “The garden won’t weed itself,” you say.

He grins. “I suppose not.” Hideyoshi’s hand takes yours before you can take a step. “It’s nice. Your tattoo. Once I really looked at it.”

“Thanks,” you smile back, feeling a little better. “I’m looking forward to my massage tonight.” You give him a cheeky wink. 

Masamune

You splash to the river’s surface, sputtering from the water in your mouth and nose. Masamune laughs beside you, his strong arm holding you up above the roiling surface of the water as the current pushes you both downstream.

“Maybe next time we should look for a bridge,” you shout to be heard over the river.

“Nah. Where’s the fun in that?” Masamune’s blue eye gleams with unfettered joy as he pulls you toward the opposite shore. 

Once you hit the bank and crawl out, you flop back onto the grassy hillside. “Fun? Not drowning is fun. And now I’m soaked.” You glance over to see Masamune already stripping down, laying his clothes out to dry. 

He grins when he sees your expression. “What’s the matter, kitten? Tiger got your tongue?”

“Pffft.” You sit up, ignoring the way your face heats. You shrug out of your kimono, very aware of how thin your linen underclothes are. Especially now that they are wet and clinging to your skin. 

Masamune’s appreciative look does not help. He grins unapologetically. “I should come out this way more often. Great view.”

You throw a clump of grass at him and jump up to run. He chases you, laughing, and catches you pretty quickly. 

His laughter stops with a sharp inhale. “Are you hurt?”

You realize that he’s noticed the ink on your side, a tiger in the midst of peonies. The red, pink, and orange probably look like a wound beneath the opaque cloth. “No, nothing like that.” You carefully tug the linen up to show him your tattoo. 

“Wow.” His eye is wide as he takes in the art piece. “Gorgeous.” His calloused finger brushes the skin on your side, sending a shiver across your belly and up your ribcage. “It’s like a painting.”

“Thanks.” You feel more than a little self conscious, but also gratified by his reaction. “It’s supposed to be, like, fragility and strength? Together?” You find yourself a little tongue tied, too focused on his warm hand touching you. 

Masamune finally looks up, catching your gaze. “It fits you, kitten. Strong and fragile.” His expression is more serious than you’re used to. A deeper emotion moves in the depths of his blue eye. 

The urge to kiss him is strong, but you resist. You tug the cloth back down and step away, heart beating frantically. Masamune likes to flirt, you think, that’s all. You wrack your brain for a witty comment and come up empty. 

He smiles, drops his hands. “Our clothes should dry out soon, and then we can continue on.”

“The temple better be awesome. You’ve talked it up too much to take anything less than.” Your destination is safer ground, you think, jumping right into the new topic.

Masamune laughs. “There’s not another like it anywhere.” Something about the way he says it makes you wonder if he means the temple you’re traveling to or something else. 

“Worth the trip then?”

He catches a bit of your damp hair and twirls it around a finger. “I’d say this trip is already worth it.”

[nico-the-newt]

Enemies to Lovers - Ellie Williams x reader

summary: you and Ellie had hated each other the moment you stepped foot in Jackson. Others disagree.

warnings: swearing, Ellie's a bit of a dick, mentions guns

You could honestly say that you had no idea how it happened. One moment you were scanning through the old, abandoned supermarket with Jesse for supplies, laughing at something stupid he had said. And suddenly, in an instance, you found yourself being ambushed by a hoard of runners.

Patrol had started off as it usually did when you were grouped with Dina, Jesse and Ellie. The four of you were walking down the old, dirt road to the abandoned supermarket that Maria had assigned you to patrol. As usual, Jesse and Dina were being coupley and affectionate - arms wrapped around each other, hands linked, noses bumping, as you and Ellie grumpily walked beside them, shooting each other looks and making snide remarks. The pair of you had had a strained relationship since your arrival in Jackson two years before. You thought she was rude and cocky. She thought you were obnoxious and demanding. In fact, the pair of you despised each other so much you weren’t even aware that you were very similar - personality-wise.

You still cursed Jesse for forcing you on patrol with Ellie. He and Dina had some sort of weird idea that you and Ellie secretly liked each other, enemies to lovers, as Dina put it. You had laughed in their faces.

“Not if she was the last person in the world,” you had scoffed, but that did not change their minds in the slightest.

When you finally arrived at the old building, you were extremely tired and grumpy. Ellie had spent the first ten minutes of the walk complaining about how late you had been that morning (she had arrived twenty minutes early to patrol just to give you a hard time), which sparked an argument that lasted for the rest of the trip. You could tell Dina and Jesse were completely  over the pair of you and it secretly made you pleased to prove them wrong.

“Jeez, look at this place,” Ellie sighed in admiration when you entered the supermarket. You couldn’t deny that you shared her admiration. There was something so beautiful about the place being covered in vines and sunlight streaming in through a big hole in the roof, lighting up the entire store. You wouldn’t let that be known though.

“‘Jeez, look at this place’” you imitated in an annoying voice that sounded nothing like Ellie.

“Hey, what’s your fucking problem, man!” Ellie exclaimed, storming towards you.

“You are-!”

“Okay!” Dina called, coming between you and Ellie before the shoving and arguing began again. “This place is pretty big - why don’t we pair up and split off. Ellie and I’ll look on this side, you guys look on that side.”

Ellie shot a scowl at you, which you gladly returned, but you followed Dina’s orders nonetheless and trailed off after Jesse.

“You and Ellie need to chill,” he said, after a period of companionable silence.

“Ellie needs to stop being an asshole,” you grumbled, causing Jesse to let out a laugh.

“You’re just as much of an asshole as she is,” he chuckled, shaking his head  in amusement and slipping a bottle of disinfectant he had found into his bag.

“No one is as big of an asshole as Ellie is,” you said pointedly. “Except maybe you~”

“Oof, low blow,” Jesse grinned, placing a hand over his chest in mocked hurt. “However will I get over that one?"

“Please, you’ll get over it,” you had laughed, finally starting to feel at ease for the first time that day. Unfortunately, the feeling had left as soon as it came due to a loud crash coming from the loading dock behind you.

“The fuck was that?” You muttered, instantly grabbing your gun and pointing it in the direction of the loading dock.

“Dunno,” Jesse hissed, drawing his gun too. When there was no other noise after a few minutes, you both slowly started edging your way towards where the original sound had come from. You practically hear your heart beating out of your chest. A cold bead of sweat dripped down the back of your neck and you almost found yourself holding your breath. However, the anticipation was all for nothing, as when you had poked your head around the corner, there was nothing there but old, dusty boxes and a rusty hand truck.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, a frown crossing your brow. “Weird.”

You stepped back towards Jesse, unaware of the runner that had been coming up behind you until its hands were grasping your shoulders and it was trying to bite your neck off. You didn’t even have enough time to be scared as several gunshots went off and caused our ears to ring like crazy and your vision to fog over.

“Come on!”

Jesse grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the area and back into reality. It was only when you could hear again and actually heard the screams and groans, along with the sound of rabid footsteps behind you, that you finally found control of your legs once more and began to run. Jesse and you crashed through a door and into a small office at the back of the store. Jesse pressed his body up against the door and you quickly copied, as there was nothing to barricade the door with. This is how I die. We��re gonna die. You couldn’t stop these morbid thoughts from bouncing around in your brain as you used all your body weight and strength to push against the door, despite the fact that the strength of the infected easily overpowered you and the door had begun to come off its hinges. You were certain they were about to break the door down completely, and was preparing for the worst, when you suddenly heard a series of gunshots outside, followed by some grunt and yells, and finally, silence. The pressure you had been fighting off against the door had stopped, though you and Jesse remained pressed against it for a few minutes - neither of you sure if it was actually safe. It was only when you heard Dina anxiously yell for the both of you that you realised it was over and cautiously moved back from the door - just in time for her to practically kick the door down and throw herself at Jesse when she realised you were both still alive. You closed your eyes and leaned back against the desk to catch your breath, completely oblivious to Ellie’s presence looming towards you at speed. It was only when she practically shoved you over and cupped your face to see you for herself that your eyes flew open and you stared at her, confused but not disliking the feeling of her hands on your face.

“You fucking idiot!” She exclaimed, letting go of your face and wrapping you in a hug. You were surprised at the contact but didn’t care and hugged her back, simply grateful to be alive and not bitten. And that Ellie was hugging you

“It’s okay. It’s over,” you sighed, rubbing her back comfortingly and raising your middle finger towards Jesse and Dina when you saw them smirking at the pair of you.

“Enemies to lovers,” Dina mouthed with a smug smile.

Part 2 can be found here:

[mindless-existence1]

hii i hope you’re well! could you write izuku with thigh riding? ty💗💗

Authors note: Awesome request I fear I love sub izuku. This is gn reader and aged up to not be weird. Hope you enjoy!

REQUESTS OPEN! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF ANF KINKTOBER!

"Honey please I need you." Izuku whines, drawing out the syllables in please. He has been begging you for the past few minutes. "Babe I'm busy, you're being greedy." He whines at the word.

"I'm not greedy I just want your attention please." Izuku comes towards your desk where you are sitting. He pushes your rolly chair out from the desk and plops himself down onto your lap. Your hand instinctively go to his waist.

"Thought you were a good boy Izuku? Why are you misbehaving?" Izuku shakes his head at your words. He hated when you were upset with him but he didn't care he needed this. "Have you gotten spoied?"

Your hot breath fans over his ear sending shivers down his spine. Izuku grabs your shoulders tightly. Spoiled? He was not spoiled. Why were you acting so mean? You hadn't been this mean to him for a long time.

Normally a bit of begging got him his way, but he guesses he has to bring out the big guns. Hot tears start to stream down his face and into the crook of your neck.

You grab his hair and pull him away from you neck causing him to whimper at the slight pain. "Don't get me wet baby." That's really all you say? No no no this can't be right. He was crying and you don't give him?

"I need it so bad please I'm begging." He hiccups in-between words, truly desperate for whatever you have to give him. You tug at his hair causing him to lean it back and leave his neck exposed. He moans when he feels you bite down on him.

"If you want to act like a bitch in heat then ride my thigh like one." Your words stun him but he doesn't have time to process them since you are moving pack infront of your desk. You move your arms around him and begin to look at papers again.

After he doesn't move after a minute you grab his waist again. "Common thought I told you to do something." He looks at you in disbelief for a second but moves to take off his pants. You quickly stop him with a hand grabbing his.

"Who said you could do that?" Izukus face is covered in shock. There's no way you were being so....mean. "But why?" He knows he sounds whiney but he can't bring himself to care. "Because you've gotten spoiled now get to riding before I get even more pissed."

With a whimper he moves and positions himself above your thigh and begins to grind down. The friction brings little relief to the hard on raging in his pants. Izuku is moving slowly but feels you lightly slap his ass with a free hand signaling him to go faster.

"Common pretty boy, I'm not helping." He chokes on the moan bubbling in his throat. "Not fair” Izuku whines into your shoulder with a pout. His hips stutter against your thigh as he thrusts them down once again.

Izuku glances behind him to see you still looking over different papers. It's not fair, he thinks but it goes out the window when he feels your hand grab his waist and push him down onto your thigh, hard.

He moans at the rough treatment. Izuku can feel a new wave of tears bubbling in his eyes. The friction from his pants brining him pleasure along with slight pain. He wants to hate it so bad but can't when it feels so damn good.

"Fuck honey I don't want to come like this please just touch me." He can feel his core tighten, izuku desperately attempts to starve off his orgasm. You chuckle and grip his waist tighter than before.

"Thought you were begging to come earlier?" The whine he let's out his high pitched. God he hates how you're giving him what he wants but not how he wants it.

Before long he feels the heat in his stomach reaching its peak. "Y/n I'm going to come please let me I need it." Izuku slightly rambles as he feels a burning sensation almost at its climax.

"Be a good boy for me and come like the little slut you are." The name makes him choke on the moan in his throat. With one last thrust into your thigh he's leaking into his pants. He's panting into your neck when his hips slowly stop their grinding.

"Good job baby, did so good." You set down you papers and rub his back. He whimpers as he feels a few more tears fall. "You were being mean." Izuku's voice is muffled and his voice is hoarse but it makes you laugh

"Oh I know but God were you pretty." The praise makes his face and ears flush. You lean down slightly to whisper in his ear. "How bout I make it up to you pretty boy."

[supercorpkid]

How You Get the Girl - part 2

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!

Word Count: 2995.

Part 1

Notes: should I do another part? Would anyone be interested in a part 3?

You make your way to a new Earth, with a quick search you find out that the DEO is still active. Lena works for them and Supergirl doesn’t, which makes way more sense than the other way around.

“Hey, there you are!” One of the agents greets you with a lab coat with your name on it. “Ms. Luthor is waiting for you in lab 3.”

“Oh, I’m not —“ you breathe deep. “Heh, you know what? Whatever. Which way?”

“Lab 3?” He repeats as if you’re supposed to know. Then points in a direction when he draws no reaction from you. “That way.”

“Thanks!” You put on the lab coat that clearly doesn’t belong to you, and follow the direction he pointed to. “Hey Lena!”

“Oh.” Lena says, not looking up from the experiment before her. “Look who is finally on time!”

“No one’s ever complained about my tardiness before.” You complain half to yourself, half to Lena.

“Not to your face.” Her response comes quickly and you roll your eyes to it. "Take your place, please." She looks at the chair and you make your way there.

"So, why do I have a lab coat with my name on it? I'm not a scientist."

"God, no. Thank God, no." Lena says and you roll your eyes at her one more time, unamused. "You're my guinea pig."

"Cute." You already don't think this will be your favorite Lena.

Lena throws one look back at you, then clicks something on her computer. She looks at the cameras and you follow her gaze to see they no longer have a red light on, so that probably means she shut them down. "Did either J'onn or Kara see you coming in?"

"No."

"Does Alex know where you are?"

"I don't think so, no."

"Great." Lena turns around, straddling your lap, and she holds you face with both hands before kissing you so hard, you're almost left with no air inside you. 

"Wait, wait." You try while she kisses down your neck, and her hands make way under your shirt. "I'm not your Y/N! I'm not –" Your brain refuses to work while her cold fingers slide on your bare skin. "I'm from a different universe!"

Lena takes her face from the crook of your neck and looks at you in disbelief. "Is this another excuse for us not to make out anymore?" She sounds uninterested. "Are you feeling bad for Alex again?"

"Why would I feel bad for Alex?" 

"Because she is your wife?" Comes in the form of a question. Like a duh.

"WHAT!" You push Lena from your lap and stand up in a hurry. "I'm married in this universe and you and I –"

You look disgusted, but Lena just stares at you like she is waiting for your tantrum to be over. "We're horrible people!"

"Ok. Ok. I see what's happening. Alex did something sweet and now you want to break things off and then in a couple of days you're gonna call me again." She sounds nonchalant about it, and you're almost throwing up while hearing it. 

"Oh no." You hold back the vomit on your mouth. "Hell no. I can't be stuck in this. I'm gonna get far away from you. You and Y/N from this Earth are both disgusting and messed up. I hope you know this." You take off the lab coat that doesn't belong to you and run so fast, you miss your counterpart walking in the DEO at the exact same time.

You land on a different Earth. It takes you a lot more investigation to find out where Lena is, and it's almost as if she is hiding. But you're a good reporter, you know Lena pretty well, so you manage to find her in a secret lab.

"Hey Lena." You have a smile on your face that soon fades when a gun is pointed to your head.

"You have ten seconds to tell me how you found me here, before I kill you." Lena's expression at you tells you she is not joking. She really means it.

"Shit. Wrong Earth. Wrong Earth." You fumble with your ring and thank God you get out of that place in less than ten seconds.

By the tenth trip it has gotten easier. Find Lena. Check if she doesn't hate you; if one of you is not married; if you two are actually gay; if the thought of you together doesn't make her gag. Explain who you are. Ask for advice. Get out of it empty handed. 

Everything becomes a blur, and your memories start to merge the different worlds together. The many Lenas you've met seem so different that none of them resemble your Lena anymore. In fact, the confusion in your mind grows so intense that you begin to forget what your Earth and your Lena truly look like. But you won't quit.

You arrive in yet another world. You've seen it all. Earths where Lena doesn't love you, ones that she is straight, others she is with Kara, and in some you and her are together. Though those weren't exactly helpful. If anything, they added to your confusion and desperation. Are you ever gonna get the girl?

In this reality, Lena is the head of CatCo, making her your boss—a less than ideal situation, to say the least. You drag your sorry ass one more time, to face yet another disappointment, you're sure.

"Y/N!" Lena smiles when you wander into her office. It's late, most employees have left already, but there's a handful of people still preparing to leave. "I thought you had called a day." She looks at her watch. "A couple of hours ago."

You wait, is there a kiss coming your way? Are you going to stop it before it happens this time or are you going to pretend you don't want it to happen after it does? The kiss doesn't come. This Lena is waiting on your response from the exact same place, which probably means you two aren't together in this universe.

You collapse onto her beige couch, letting out a huge sigh. You're so tired of this hopeless crusade. Perhaps you and Lena were never meant to end up together. Maybe the versions of you that actually got the girl are a fluke. Glitches in the system.

"Darling," She comes closer. "are you ok?"

"No. God, no. I'm not ok." You raise your head to see Lena's worried features, while she hovers over you. "Before I say anything, I need to warn you I'm not your Y/N. I'm from another Earth, and this is probably the 15th one that I visited so far. So I'm exhausted and far from ok, and I just want to cry."

Lena blinks. Green eyes framed with dark eyeliner, pink lips slightly open, so confused. Her straight, dark hair falls around her face, and you can't help but to steal a look at her incredibly inappropriate cleavage for show.

"Just call your Y/N if you don't believe me."

"No, I –" She sits next to you, calmly. "I believe you." Lena purses her lips, staring at your watery eyes. "So, how come you want to cry?"

You blink your tears away. "I love you." You breathe out. "Well, not you exactly. But you, from my Earth. But you don't love me back, and I've been everywhere trying to find one universe where it all worked out. Where you didn't love me, but I could ��� I somehow won you over." The tears are now streaming down your face without your control, and you don't even bother cleaning them. She stares at you with wide eyes. "But what if you and I are never supposed to work? What if Lena is never supposed to love me back?" Your breath shudders and you can't barely get your words out. "What if this is it?"

Lena licks her lips, unable to respond. You're unsure of the endgame here; you're merely using this Lena to finally unload your emotions.

"How do I just bury this feeling so deep down, when it wants nothing but to exist?"

The question falls heavy from your mouth. Loaded with more than heartbreak and it can be felt from the way your words sound. Lena feels it too. Surely, the whole world would be able to feel it. 

"You don't." She whispers back and you startle with the sound of her voice. You didn't think she would answer. "Y/N, I –" Lena breathes deep, gathering all of her courage. "I love you too. Well, you know what I mean. But on this Earth, you and Kara are dating."

"Yikes." Not yikes as in gross, but also, yes somewhat. Because you and Kara? That's weird and absurd and like dating a sister. But also yikes, cause you've landed on a universe where Lena loves you but she also didn't get the girl. "I'm sorry. I guess the last thing you needed was me crying on your couch about how much I love you."

She chuckles, looking up to hold back the tears. "God, this is so surreal." She turns to you like she's telling a secret. "I bought this company for you."

"Oh! You did that for Kara in my universe." You give her a watery laugh. "That's so very Lena of you." After a moment's thought, you lean in with a whispered revelation yourself. "I almost killed your brother to defend you. And trust me, I don't kill."

"Yeah, you – you did that for Kara here." 

You and Lena fall into a weird silence. You notice from the corner of your eye that a few tears started falling on her face and you make a move to clean it up. She holds her breath to it, and her eyes flutter closed when your thumb brush softly against her skin.

She is not your Lena, but God, do they look the same, sound the same, and even smell the same. She is everything your Lena is, plus one huge difference: she is in love with a Y/N.

"I have an idea." You whisper, not to startle her, then move your finger away.

She doesn't open her eyes to whisper back, "Please, don't say Parent Trap."

"Hey!" You defend yourself earning a heartly laugh from her end. "Parent Trap is always a solid idea."

Lena looks at you fondly, while trying to sound annoyed. "God, Y/N."

"No, that wasn't it." You actually defend yourself this time, and she sits up straighter, looking at you curiously. "I love you and you love me. Sounds like an easy fix."

"No." Her voice comes as if she is talking to a toddler. "I love you from this universe, and you love me from your universe. We're all different individuals."

"Not that different. You knew I could say the Parent Trap idea, you bought a company for someone you love and I almost killed for someone I love." She only blinks at you in utter disbelief. "Oh, come on. You're still Lena! You're absurdly smart, and beautiful. You call me darling, and laugh when I say something silly. And I am still me, I'm –" You can't find the words to describe yourself.

"You're a bright light everywhere you step in. You're the only one that makes me laugh so hard. You're the most charming person I've ever met, and you have terrible ideas and try to pass them off as good." You laugh when she says that. 

"What? I don't –"

"You've been to 15 different Earths just to find a way to make your Lena love you, instead of just talking to her about it."

"Yeah, whatever. Like you're so perfect being filthy rich and buying companies as a form of love." She chuckles again and you stare at her with renewed intent. "Come on, it's not that crazy. We can find out the differences between our counterparts, but I doubt there's anything you've done that would make me stop loving you."

"My scientist mind says this is the craziest thing someone has ever told me."

"But the stupid part that made you fall in love with me, says…"

Lena inhales deep, then lets it all out in one breath. "That I'd die for your kiss."

You've kissed many Lenas from different universes. Short and sweet kisses, big and passionate ones, and completely wrong ones as well. You can help that your heart beats almost out of your chest in anticipation for this one. This Lena, she's so much like the one you fell for, but there's an ineffable quality about her, something more. Without even a kiss, you sense that if she isn't the one for you as well, then no other Lena will ever be.

The office is bathed in a soft, dim light. The last employee left a few minutes ago, leaving you both in an oddly calm, private CatCo. You draw Lena's face close to you, feeling her hold her breath in sync with yours.

"What if this is it?" Lena asks and you realize she has different worries than yours. But you know, regardless of the uncertainty – whether this is going to be it, or not – the only way to have the answer is by kissing her.

The moment seems to stand still, as the question reveals to be the answer itself. Time stretched out so thin through the space between your lips. And you smile to yourself as the gap between you two doesn't feel insurmountable anymore. 

Lena closes the distance. It feels impossible to believe that you two haven't known each other all your lives, when the dance of your lips and tongues moves in perfect harmony. The kiss is explosive and urgent, as if it has been in the making for years. Breathless, desperate, and exploratory. It's everything, and it's only the start.

You part your lips, staring at her from so close the only thing you can look at is her glossy eyes. "I'll die." She whispers so close to your mouth you're sharing the same breath. "I'll die a little death if I can't have you again."

The floor seems to open under you, as your heart flies to your mouth beating so fast it's ringing loudly in your ears. And you cease to exist in many universes to just exist right here, in this moment.

This is it. This is love. The love you've been jumping around from one universe to another to find. The love you've been dying to have and you know it. You shared one kiss and you are sure of it.

Lena swallows a tear, a question, a whirlwind of thoughts going through her mind as she kisses you again. Then again. And each kiss becomes more passionate, more certain. It's so right it binds you two deeper and stronger at every lip and tongue and breath shared. It can't be undone. 

Lena has a million questions and you know that, can see it in her eyes, and God you have them too. How can you erase your histories? Is it as easy as this? As easy as sharing a kiss so right that defying the boundaries of many universes cease to matter? 

But you know, God, you know it's just the start. It's the start of a chain reaction that makes your heart feel alive and complete. It doesn't matter anymore if she is your Lena, because she is the Lena.

"How will this even work?" she whispers against your lips, but deep down, you both know—it will work, it must work. Nothing can stop it now.

"I don't know. God, I don't care." You answer between kisses, your breathless words expressing a certainty that defies logic. "I just know it will."

It's many, many kisses later that you both fall into a less desperate silence, tangled up in each other's arms as if this is the 100th time you've found yourselves in this position. You don't have to talk to know you're both thinking the same thing. How will this work?

"I have an idea." Your eyes widen and you untangle yourself from your place on her chest, so you can look into her eyes.

"Here we go again." She jokes lightly, but you know she trusts this idea will be just as good as the last one.

"I've been to one universe where I didn't exist. I don't know what happened to me there. If I was never born or if I'd died. But you existed and Kara was your best friend, and all of you would work in a Tower, and there was this guy Brainy, instead of Winn… Anyways." You stop your ranting when you realize you're getting a little side tracked. "I'm sure there's one Earth out there where both you and I don't exist. We could just –"

"Go to another world and start fresh. No two of you, no two of me. Just you and I making a name for ourselves." Lena completes and you smile at her, happy she understood exactly where you were going with this.

"I mean, you're stupidly smart and I have powers. Surely we can make a life for ourselves anywhere." You stop yourself when an idea crosses your mind. No, not anywhere. You smile. "And I know just where."

"You would do that?" Lena blinks, her question isn't coming from a place of confusion. She knows you would do exactly that and some more. The question is coming from a place of complete adoration.

"I'm dying to believe that you won't be the death of me." She kisses you one more time to be sure. And it's obvious. Every single time it's even more fated.

"What about everyone else on our Earths? Wouldn't we miss them?"

You show her your ring. "Have a portal –"

"Will travel." She completes it.

Yeah. This one. This one is your Lena.