#that’s my blood sweat and tears fr

[yuutsunaoi-writes]

Its so hard finding good bbb fics that i just want to personally say thank you for your service, both for your platonic and romantic fics

Sadly i'm more of a friendship kind of person so i absolutely adored reading all the kokotiam fics or how much they care about boi but your too late series is also appreciated, i'm not a romantic person but God does your fic HURT. Beautifully written too!

The way you follow how the series go is so nice to read. There are moments where i'm like "oh thats from this episode!" Its very fun

awww thank you anon!! i wrote all those fics thinking the bbb tag in ao3 is too devastating in terms of ‘amount of fics’ so i just have to add some works - romantic or platonic.

ah nooo i totally get it!! like for me i do see like a potential smthg between bbb and fang, but yes i do keep in mind that bbb is muslim so if i were to talk abt them not-platonically i be sure to just talk abt them in my own circle if u get what i mean- too late series is just a little smthg of a ‘what if’ for me and me attempting to write smthg more ‘real’ if you uh get what i mean TT i’m glad u think it’s beautifully written!! ^^

it’s honestly quite difficult sometimes to write according to canon especially for gur’latan’s part because i feel like i could squeeze so many more ‘could’ve been’ scenes between bbb and fang but yeah i’m glad how it turned out nevertheless!! ^^ i’m glad u liked the series!!

[hinamie]

for the blessings megumi zine ! like 2 years ago at this point,,, still vvv proud of this though ! super fun project super cool zine <3

[blindmagdalena]

Eat Your Ego, Honey ( Ch 8 )

homelander x oc 18+  escort services, sex work, voyeurism, stalking, Homelander in general. see ao3 link for detailed tags. chapter index. check out the playlist!

chapter summary: After the disastrous spectacle that was Homelander's birthday celebration, America's "disgraced" hero is forced to reconcile with the demons in his head, and what that means for Layla, the woman standing precariously in their path.

additional tags: unhealthy/codependent dynamics, threats of violence, themes of abuse, canon deviation. 🖤

Sleep is a scarcity. Homelander fades in and out of consciousness, but he never truly rests. It’s strange to sleep somewhere he can't see the comfort of his own gaze endlessly mirrored back at him. Those mirrors make the world so much bigger, but for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t mind how small it is. What would normally be a dark, claustrophobic thing is now a great deal safer than the open expanse of a stage.

Layla’s warmth and the faint weight of her arm around him is the only thing that keeps him somewhat tethered. Her heartbeat is a steady metronome against his back, her breaths warmly ghosting over his neck and shoulder. It’s been hours, but it feels too soon when the covers move on his skin as she readjusts in her sleep, pulling her arm from him. He lifts the blanket and rolls to face her. 

She’s turned away from him, her dark hair fanned out in a wild splay on the pillow beneath her. Light from the unsleeping city spills in through the window, illuminating her figure. It’s strange to see her sleeping in day clothes and not the sleepwear he’s used to seeing her in. She didn’t have the time to change tonight. She was too busy taking him back into her arms, into her bed, into her life. He brushes his knuckles down between her shoulder blades, the disheveled silk of her blouse soft beneath his fingers.

He’ll find out why Starlight’s scent is lingering on her when she wakes.

Sliding closer to her, he flattens his palm over her hip and noses at the line of her throat, inhaling deeply, chasing the scent beneath shampoo and lotion until he finds what’s simply her. Her wine flush has followed her into sleep, her skin warmer than usual. She responds to his touch with a sleepy sigh of pleasure. Even now, the sound of her voice does so much to quiet the storm in his heart. He screws his eyes shut and buries his face into the soft tresses of her hair, gritting his teeth against the urge to squeeze too tight. 

The urge to keep. 

The urge to break it all apart and let the storm rage. Instead, he keeps himself perfectly still, trying to swallow the thrumming energy coiling in his tense muscles. End this, the darkness in him hisses, tempting him. How many days has he resisted the urge to reach out, not with his hands but with this thing inside him, and ruin everything? Everyone? A flash of crimson is all it would take to cleave this world in half.

But he can’t afford to. Not then, not now.

The only way he made it out of the cold isolation of the lab, far away from the bad room, was by convincing the staff, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was good. He was their perfect man-made hero. Logically, he knows they can’t ever put him back in the bad room. He’d never let them. It doesn’t stop the nightmares.

He folds in on himself, doing his best to forget that he even has power to wield against others—a whim as sharp as glass. Now, just as then, he orders his body and mind to still, to calm.

If Layla had stayed yesterday morning, things would have been different. His tightly controlled grip on her hip flexes minutely. How can she sleep so deeply knowing that she’s ruined him?

What was she doing with Starlight?

The inkling of a deeper betrayal slithers into his mind. He slides his hand up the length of her torso, traversing the familiar scape of her body, and into her hair, coiling his fingers into a gentle fist of it. One twist is all it would take to quiet her soothing voice forever. Would hair ever feel the same to him again, or would it start to smell like burning tears and cornea? The stench of grief hits him so suddenly that his eyes sting with it, and he recoils from Layla like he himself has been burned.

Has she been scheming against him all along, too?

Fucked. He’s so completely and entirely fucked.

He exhales harshly, curling his hand into a tight fist and biting into the meaty curve just below his thumb, muffling a tearful keen. He can’t think back to that morning without reliving how horribly it went wrong, and how the dominos just continued to fall until he was losing his senses in front of the entire world.

Those moments on stage play over and over in his mind, but each instance of them grows more warped than the last. He’s starting to forget what he really said, conflating memories with nightmares. How much of himself did he really let slip? How ugly does the world think him to be now? 

He can see the headlines now.

Homelander: America’s Fallen Hero

Homelander: Vought’s Poster Boy Throws a Tantrum

Homelander: Deranged Freak Snaps On Stage

He’s spiraling worse than he did during Stormfront’s smear campaign against him. It isn’t just dissenting opinions and slander—he’s finally given them real ammunition to use against him. The question is: how much, and how will he refute it? He needs to be able to recover from this.

His voice of reason is treacherously quiet. Nothing but the dreadful echo of I warned you.

With his thoughts twisting in on themselves like a pit of angry, writhing snakes, he finds it impossible to stay still any longer. His whole body is plagued with a restlessness that turns into agony. Carefully, he extracts himself from Layla’s side and slips out of her bed. He needs to see it for himself. He needs to understand the degree of damage that’s been done to him.

Stepping out into her living room, Homelander picks up the remote for her television and flips it on, dropping the volume to such a miniscule level that he’ll be the only one to hear it. He lowers himself down onto the couch and stares, watching his body move and speak, seemingly puppeteered by someone other than himself, operating in ways he’s never seen himself behave in front of a camera before.

“I’m done being persecuted for my strength–”

Erratic.

“Persecuted for my strength–”

Unhinged.

“Persecuted–”

Alive.

If they want to take us down, we’re going to take every last one of them down with us.

The sky is just barely beginning to turn with dawn’s light when Layla wakes to a chill that rolls up her spine. Her bed feels colder than it has any right to, and as the fractured events of last night spill back into her mind, it doesn’t take her long to figure out why. 

Homelander—who knows if he’ll accept that name yet—is nowhere to be seen.

Her temples throb with the aftermath of emptying a hefty bottle of wine as she lifts herself from bed, running her hands through her hair, breaking apart the tangles with her fingers.

The breadcrumb trail of Homelander’s suit leading from her balcony to her bed tells her that he hasn’t left. The image of him streaking through the sky in the nude does occur to her, though. Straightening her borrowed blouse and tucking it back into the waist of her skirt, she steps lightly through the dark of her apartment, head on a swivel, until she spots her quarry.

Reclined on her couch, Homelander paints an image somewhere between a renaissance painting and a billboard for depression, his body illuminated by the flashing light of the television. His expression is morose, his hand sitting on the couch next to him at an angle, the remote tilted in his loose grasp. As she approaches, he begins tapping on the volume until his own recorded voice fills the empty space between them.

It’s his tirade from last night.

“Hey, babe,” he drawls from the couch, voice pitched low and despondent. The way he pops each consonant makes the pet name sound downright derogatory. “So, what’s the verdict?” He asks, lazily gesturing to the television with the remote. “Is it everything you thought it would be?” His gaze slides from the screen to her, his head lolling to the side with it.

Any concern or lingering sleepiness in her face is swiftly replaced with bewilderment. “Excuse me?”

“‘Excuse me?’” He mocks, pitching his voice up condescendingly. Her expression hardens as he stands, the remote bouncing along the couch cushions where he tosses it. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

“I’m not playing anything with you,” she responds tersely. She’s never been a morning person. Compound that with the ache in her skull and the naked pain in the neck standing in front of her, she’s not feeling her usual bounty of patience. Last night, he was a weepy, sopping mess. Now she doesn’t know what to expect from the tight line of his shoulders, or the agitated curl of his upper lip. “I have no idea what it is you think you’re picking at.”

“Since when are you and Starlight pals, then?” He hisses through his teeth.

Shit. Annie. She never sent that text.

“Since yesterday,” she answers, her calm stretched thin. “She saw me at the elevator. She offered a shower and a change of clothes. That’s all.” She doesn’t find it necessary to explain why Starlight might have offered such a thing. He knows exactly how she looked when she left his penthouse, bruised and disheveled.

The memory looks to serve as a crisp slap, some level of clarity filtering into the incensed glaze of his eyes. His grip flexes, and he bares his teeth in an animalistic flash of frustration. He isn’t willing to accept fault for that yet.

“Stop fucking lying to me!” He snaps, the sudden jump in volume startling her. He advances on her sharply, halting her step backwards with an iron grip, his palm against her throat, his thumb and index finger notching perfectly behind the curve of her jaw below her ears. The contact is minimal, and yet the strength in those two fingers alone is more than enough to hold her firmly in place. 

“You’re all the fucking same! Agendas, lies, all of you trying to control me, use me, and you—you’re exactly the fucking same. You’ve taken everything from me,” he snarls. Despite his fervor, his grip remains remarkably controlled. Sometimes it’s as if his mind and his body are two independent entities: one an unstable, emotionally malnourished psyche, and the other a finely tuned weapon.

The human mind wants dangerous things to be ugly, but even now, Homelander’s twisted, angry expression is not an ugly thing. Though adrenaline surges the thrum of her heart, it isn’t laden with the fear any reasonable person would have. The thrill coursing through her isn’t rooted in some comfort that he won’t hurt her. It’s the knowledge that he—more devastating than any man she’s ever known—absolutely will if not handled correctly.

It’s like holding a thundering storm in her bare hands.

Layla stares wide-eyed and astonished, so thoroughly unaware of what he’s accusing her of that she struggles to speak around the hard lump in her throat. He leans closer yet, clutching her with all the same strength, tenderness and menace of the ocean cradling a ship.

“I killed her,” he whispers, the words passing between them like a confession to God himself. He’s so near, she could rest her forehead against his if she wanted. “I killed her for lying to me. I’ll kill you, too.”

Madelyn Stillwell. The name returns to her like a ghost, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling. Or was it Stormfront? The unnamed mother of his child? One was the victim of a domestic terrorist, one committed suicide, and the third is yet undetermined. All of them are apparent casualties of Homelander’s turbulent presence in their lives. Is she to be the fourth in a string of tragedies? Rage swells so suddenly in her heart that she almost chokes on the fire of it. What right does he have to interrogate her and  threaten her?

“Are you glad?” She asks, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hand holding his wrist in turn. “Are you glad to have killed her?”

His expression flips as if he’s been struck, crinkled brows shooting up. “What?”

“Will you be glad to have killed me?” She asks tightly, her nails biting ineffectual crescents into his titanium flesh. Her tone is sharp and no longer meant to soothe. She speaks to cut. “Or will you just be even more alone?”

Like hers, his eyes turn glassy. “No,” he says softly. She doesn’t know if that’s an answer or a plea.

“Let me go,” she tells him firmly, fighting to hold onto the fires of her own indignant anger. His abrupt flashes of softness and vulnerability compromise her resolve.

“Go where, Layla?” He snaps, suddenly loud again. His broken desperation and seething anger make his voice reedy. “Where the fuck could you go that I wouldn’t still feel you? Kill you, fuck you, love you; you’re in my fucking head!”

You’re all the fucking same!

She isn’t dead, but he’s treating her like a ghost nonetheless. As if she’s already one of the many specters haunting him.

“You love me?” She asks him, snatching that precarious lifeline out of the messy slurry of his words. She’s not sure that he knows the meaning of it. 

Does she?

The tension in Homelander’s face goes slack, stricken to hear those words fall from her lips. His mouth opens and closes as he tries and fails to form the right words. It’s too vulnerable to say yes, and too complicated to say no. Ultimately, he can’t bear to answer first.

“Do you love me?” He asks, defensive, as if she were the one who brought the terrifying gravity of love into the equation in the first place. The weight of it turns her tongue to lead.

There’s an adolescent sense of fumbling in this moment that would be endearing if he were not clutching her jaw with inhuman strength, the whispered promise of her death hanging over them like a creaky guillotine. In another life, this could have been a very sweet confession.

“Do you?” He prompts her again, desperate. He cups the back of her head with his other hand, taking a step closer. His chest bumps her forearms where she has them tightly braced, hands clamped tightly over his wrist. It’s a meager barrier to uphold, but she does so steadfastly. His hold on her is suffocating, his agonized ocean eyes filling up her vision. He’s larger than life, leaving space for little else in her life ever since he crashed into it.

Even when he’s gone, she is consumed by him like a fever that refuses to be sweated out. When her career first began, she knew well enough not to entertain superhumans. It wasn’t a bias she held against them per se, but the opposite: she knew from the start that she would become intoxicated on the danger of them. Homelander is the epitome of everything she’s ever been too afraid to let herself love. He’s the first person to ever be enough of a risk to scare her, and enough of a reward to satiate her. She can feel her destruction lurking in him just as plainly as her parents found their own in their shared thrill seeking.

“I want to,” she whispers, a secret she’s denied even to herself until now. “But you’re making it so fucking hard.”

He exhales roughly, something like hope softening the tension in his expression before he screws his eyes shut, another wave of agony contorting his features. His forehead thumps gently against hers. “I don’t know—I don’t know how else to be. I don’t know how. I don’t know how to make it easy.”

Finally, he releases her jaw from the snare of his grip, only to take either side of her face between his hands, pulling away to look at her. He’s always been younger than her in a multitude of ways, but in this moment, the agonized youth in his eyes takes her breath away. “I was—I was made to be loved. I was supposed to be everyone’s hero. They poked and prodded me, manufactured me in a-a fucking lab to be perfect, but no one—”

Layla’s eyes widen, her heart seized. What?

Homelander bares his teeth like a wounded animal, breath hissing in and out of his clenched teeth as tears roll down his cheeks. “But no one does, no one fucking does, no one loves me,” he says through his teeth, nearly choking on the words. “I don’t understand how to make it easy, Layla,” he sobs, hands shaking on either side of her face. She can’t tell if it’s from sheer emotion, or the restraint it takes not to crush her between them.

“So just—tell me what I need to do, please,” he begs her, devastatingly beautiful in the same way the sprawling webbing of a shattered mirror is. “Tell me how to be easy to love.”

Breathless, Layla stands there with her heart bleeding so freely, so painfully, that she swears there’s warm blood soaking onto the pristine white blouse she wears.

There is a monster in Homelander. At times, she can feel the claws of it in his grip on her. Hear it growling in her ear. When it comes to handling monsters, banishment is always the remedy. Slay the beast, free the man. Homelander’s monster is not so easily felled, nor is she certain it should be. He was not born with sharp teeth and claws. From what she’s gathered, they were filed into fine points long before he was a man.

People like to think of the monster within them as an outside force. Corruption, propaganda, the devil. Layla has spent enough time in bed with people’s deviance to know better. The proverbial devil is not outside of humanity, but embedded deep within It cannot be safely extracted any more than a beating heart can.

But corruption isn’t a heart—it’s a stomach. 

It craves and yearns, it twists and aches and growls when hungry. Just as Eve ate of the apple, humans take bites of sin to satiate their monster. Like people, monsters come in a wide variety of shapes, temperaments, and cravings. Some beasts can be satisfied with a nibble here and there. Others require more. Some never learned how to know when they’re full.

After all he has been deprived of, Homelander may never be truly satisfied, but does that mean he doesn’t deserve to be fed at all?

No, Layla thinks. It doesn’t.

Both of their faces are streaked wet with tears as they hold one another’s gazes. Gingerly, she brings her own hands up to cup his face, wiping his tears with her thumbs. “Okay,” she whispers, afraid her own voice of reason will hear her. “Okay, my darling.”

Relief helps smooth the crease between his brows, but it doesn’t dissipate entirely. “Say it,” he urges her, the hands still upon her face giving the faintest nudge. “Say you love me.”

“I love you,” she says, teary and quiet, but with conviction. She leans in, and he allows her to, no longer holding her firmly in place for fear that she might suddenly vanish. “I love you,” she says again, a promise that ghosts his lips. He shudders. “I love you. You’re in my head,” she says, echoing his own words back at him. Her lips brush against his in a not-quite kiss. “You were from the start.”

He exhales a pained, keening sound, pushing his fingers into her hair and pulling her deep into a feverish kiss. His hunger for her is voracious, and his desire is a force she might not withstand—not by virtue of its violence, but because of its sheer magnitude. He kisses her fiercely, one arm slipping around her middle to keep her body from bowing under the weight of his love.

“I love you, too,” he breathes, the relief in his voice palpable. She takes the air of it into her lungs like it might save her. “I love you so fucking much.”

It’s dangerous, she knows, to trick herself into believing she can satiate his mountainous hunger. Danger is like an ice bath, though. You grow accustomed to the bite of it.

Morning light creeps slowly into Layla’s condo. Homelander trails her as closely as her own shadow, breathing in against the crook of her neck while she cooks breakfast. He’s partially dressed in his undershirt and underwear, his suit folded neatly upon her vanity for the time being. It’s nice to feel his arms around her without the obstructive padding of his suit. Without the bulk of it, she fits more closely against him, his superhuman warmth like a particularly cuddly space heater pressed against her back.

“One egg or two?” She asks him, plucking one from the container on the counter.

“Mmm… Two,” he says, the deliberation making it sound more like a trivia answer than a preference.

She cracks four eggs into the pan, one at a time. “Over easy, medium, hard…?”

He grins against her neck, and she gives his hand at her hip a playful little swat with the back of her silicone spatula. “I dunno,” he says, nuzzling her. “However you like it.”

“Have you never had eggs before?” She asks, looking back at him. 

He’s got his chin propped up on her shoulder. His gaze flickers up from the sizzling pan to meet hers. “Just scrambled.”

…I was made… manufactured in a fucking lab…

She swallows a small lump in her throat, turning back to the eggs. She flips them all over easy and plates them with the toast. When she takes the toast off of the plates and begins slicing them into strips, Homelander makes an inquisitive noise.

“You’ll see,” she says cryptically, shooing him to the table as she plates their breakfasts and carries them to the table.

Homelander sits, and she sets his plate down in front of him. She sits on the adjoining corner to his, but within seconds he has a grip on her seat. The chair legs groan as he slides her closer to him, smiling at her look of surprise. “That’s better,” he says, his knee bumping hers.

He’d likely prefer she be in his lap. There’s always a lingering sense that she’s never quite close enough, even when they’re pressed tightly against one another. He might not be satisfied until he finds a way to open her up and crawl inside.

Huffing a small laugh, she gestures to his plate. “Use the toast sticks to break the yolk,” she tells him, and then demonstrates on her own meal, jabbing a piece of toast into the soft yellow yolk, coating it properly before taking a bite.

Blinking, Homelander does the same. He hums appreciatively, nodding with a mouthful of food.

“My gramma insisted that all food tastes better when it’s dipped. She always made my breakfasts this way,” she explains, her smile tinged with bittersweet nostalgia. “I can’t remember the last time I did it for myself.” 

Silence follows. She glances up to find Homelander staring intently at his plate, a cut of toast pinched between his fingers, dripping yolk back down onto the egg. Layla takes a breath to speak, but that inhale is all it takes to snap him from his thoughts, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers.

“Ryan would like this, I think,” he says. She can tell he’s working to keep his voice conversational.

“Ryan?” She echoes, though it clicks a second after she says it.

“My son,” he confirms, clearing his throat gently. She shares his trepidation as he enters this particular topic of conversation, considering the fallout the last time it was broached. He dips the toast again and takes another bite, seemingly buying time with deliberate chews.

Layla bites her tongue, choking back her own knee-jerk response. She likes children just fine, in theory. She’s had very little practical experience. Still, words of unbidden advice bubble up on her tongue as if she’s an expert. She wants to tell Homelander to go to the boy, talk to him. He told her that she had taken everything from him, presumably referring to his very public meltdown, but that isn’t true in a number of ways. He has a son out there somewhere, confused and without either of his parents.

It sets a sympathetic churn in her gut. Grieving her own parents as a child made an adult of her far too soon. She may not have raised any children herself, but she can speak as a child who was left behind.

“He’s nine. He’s strong,” Homelander continues tentatively. “I mean, really strong. Strong like me,” he says, pride underlining each word, driving out the hesitance. “He’s so much like me. I never thought I’d see it, but he’s real. He’s—” he breaks into a small, incredulous laugh. “—He’s a miracle. A real, born miracle.”

Unlike you, she surmises from his tone. He said that Vought had made him. The world has been rocked by the revelation that supes are the result of Vought’s pharmaceutical ventures, but the way Homelander talks of his son makes him sound different. An exception to that fact, somehow.

“You should go to him,” she encourages, still holding onto a level of cautiousness on the matter. “I was left behind by my parents. I don’t wish it on anyone.”

“I didn’t leave him behind,” Homelander corrects sharply. She was right to tread lightly. “He left me,” he says, though he doesn’t speak with anger so much as he does woundedness. He’s never expressed anything but love—bordering on reverence—for his son, and yet he has completely roadblocked himself from reaching out.

It’s complicated, he told her before.

“He’s nine. It’s not his job to uncomplicate things or bridge the gap,” she says as gently as she can muster, though even she can hear the weariness in her own voice. “It’s yours. He needs you to be the adult, to help the world make sense. It’s one thing to give him space, but you can’t abandon him.”

At first, there is a flash of petulant defiance in Homelander’s eyes, obvious in the tight set of his jaw. To Layla’s relief, however, it fades into quiet consideration. He looks back down to his half-finished plate.

“You can’t take personally what anyone, much less a child, does out of grief,” she says softly, reaching out to put her hand atop his where it rests on the table. “Ryan needs wisdom. Support. People who love him. He needs his father.”

He looks up at her with a level of vulnerability in those ocean blue eyes that never fails to pull her into the depths. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she says firmly. To this day, she can’t imagine what she wouldn’t do for just one more day with her own father. 

Slowly, the wateriness of his gaze becomes a sparkle. Homelander smiles. He has as many smiles as an ice cream shop has flavors, and this one says he’s just had an idea.

“What?” Layla asks after a beat, an edge of suspicion to her tone.

“Nothing,” he says placatingly. His smile shifts. She knows that flavor of smile. That one means he’s lying. “Just relieved is all. Could I use your phone?”

It’s a wonder the ease with which Homelander glides from mood to mood, as if he puts each one neatly in a box before he takes out the next one. Layla only hesitates for a second before she nods, sliding out of her chair to go and fetch her cellphone. She still needs to text Annie.

“Jesus,” she says softly, staring at her screen with a deep crease in her brow.

“What?” Homelander asks, leaning in his seat.

She has thirty missed calls, and about as many text messages.

THIS IS ASHLEY BARRET. HAVE YOU SEEN HOMELANDER? IF YOU KNOW WHERE HOMELANDER IS, PLEASE CONTACT ME. PLEASE CONTACT ME IF YOU KNOW WHERE HOMELANDER IS. MISS ALDEN PLEASE CONTACT ME AND ONLY ME IF YOU HAVE SEEN HOMELANDER. IF YOU CAN PLEASE INFORM HOMELANDER HE IS UP.

Ashley Barret. Layla recalls the name from Homelander’s initial booking. She had been the one to handle the details and arrange payment.

“Ashley Barret is very desperate to find you,” she says, reading the texts as she walks back towards him. “She says that you’re… up.” She stops at the table, looking at him. “What does that mean?”

The chair legs scrape audibly against the floor when Homelander stands up. “Give me that,” he says, taking the phone from her outstretched hand. His expression pinches tightly as he scrolls through the messages, lips parted. “I’m… up,” he says slowly, processing the words that mean nothing to Layla. With a tap, she hears a dial tone. Homelander holds the phone to his ear.

“Miss Alden–” answers a feminine voice immediately.

“What do you mean I’m up?” Homelander interrupts, a harshness to his voice that Layla doesn’t expect to hear outside of an argument.

“21 points with your base,” Ashley says breathlessly.

Homelander’s expression softens, becoming wonder-like. “What did you say?”

“21 points. They loved your speech!”

He looks at Layla, familiar glassiness returning to his eyes. He lifts his loose hand, which curls slowly into a fist, as if he’s taking hold of something precious, some nebulous concept of grace he had thought lost. 

“A massive 44% uptick with white males in the Rust Belt.”

“Yes,” Homelander hisses through his teeth, pumping his fist triumphantly. “Fuck yes! Yes!” With that same hand, he suddenly takes hold of the back of Layla’s neck, pulling her into a deep kiss. Her noise of surprise is muffled against his lips, his tongue a slick demand on hers.

“They’re saying you’re confident and unapologetic!” Ashley’s voice continues to prattle from the phone, though Layla’s finding it hard to pay attention with the way Homelander’s taking a fistful of her hair, bowing her back, kissing her hungrily. “That you’re not afraid to be yourself!”

He outright moans against her lips. She breaks away from him with a gasp, hand pressed against her chest. “Should I give you a moment alone with Ashley?” She asks breathlessly, only half-joking. The man is absolutely alight against her, heat radiating in his touches. The news trips an alarm bell somewhere in the back of Layla’s mind, but she’s struggling to process it in the wake of his voraciousness.

“Christ, no,” he says. The phone hits the ground with a clatter, Ashley’s confused voice continuing distantly on the line. He cups both sides of Layla’s face and pulls her back in, exhaling a pleased little growl against her lips. “Did you hear? They love me. They fucking love me,” he says between kisses, breathless and downright giddy.

Drawing back, he strokes her cheeks tenderly with his thumbs, his smile broad, eyes shining with relief, joy, and something Layla can’t quite place, though it causes a small knot to form in her gut.

“They want me to be myself.”

[vonabel]

sukuna hoodie for my baby brother <3

[kevindavidday]

queen: chapter 7

[coulrology]

So what's the lore with Juniper n their relationship with Vitimir n Hettie?

WELL for both, their relationships go back to their school days! Although the difference being that Juniper and Hettie went to St. Epiderm together, while Vitimir went to a different school (Glandus at the time he met Juniper).

I’ve briefly touched on how Juniper and Vitimir met here, so that explains their first meeting. To reiterate, Vitimir was a shy kid that didn’t really have any friends growing up (aside from bugs/whatever little creatures they spent their time around) and was bullied frequently, so that single positive interaction with Juniper, though small, really stuck with him and he never forgot it. Juniper didn’t forget it either, but being the sociable type meeting and talking to lots of different people, that moment sorta blended in with the rest of their memories. So fast forward to them both working as Coven Heads at the same time, Vitimir immediately recognizes Juniper. Despite Juniper changing a lot since his child self, that one good memory left such a big impact on Vitimir as a kid that he still held that soft spot for them. So of course, when Juniper eventually approached him on their own time, Vitimir already had this layer of vulnerability. Even though they might not have recognized him, from Vitimir’s perspective, there was that sense of familiarity and comfort; Juniper might have changed, but that kind kid was still in him. Now that they have the chance, Vitimir wants to actually get to know this one person who had plagued so many of their thoughts as a kid. And the rest is history!!

As for Hettie! Again, she and Juniper attended St. Epiderm together. Hettie was just as terrifying as a kid as she is now. She was everything- a jock, a princess, a bully, a weird girl, whatever you can think of. Though she’s very open about who she is, everyone around her was always so intimidated by the fact that she was unpredictable (and the fact that she’s both the smartest AND strongest person you’d ever meet is terrifying enough on its own). Most everyone- except for Juniper. To Juniper, Hettie was always such a character. She’s always been so confident and unapologetic, able to command people’s attention without even saying a word. Her unpredictability made everything she did so interesting. Juniper so deeply admired this about Hettie. And the fact that she’s 100% his type only drew them closer to her. Hettie was Juniper’s first ever crush, and that love Juniper had for her never faded. Though as kids, they weren’t in the same social circles, they did cross paths a lot, whether it was through Sonia (Scooter Crane’s daughter and childhood best friend to Juniper, who was also in the Healing Track), or Juniper getting injured for whatever ridiculous reasons. At this age, Hettie didn’t reciprocate her feelings (yet), but she had a fondness for Juniper because he was so different from the other kids for the fact alone that they had a (very obvious) crush on her. And while their crush may have caused them to do embarrassing things, and foolishly being used as her own guinea pig from time to time to practice her magic on, Hettie had cared about Juniper. To her, he always made life more fun and interesting. Fast forward to them as Coven Heads- Hettie has grown a stronger affection for Juniper. He’s changed over the years, but he still makes life so much more fun and interesting. Perhaps now, Hettie admires Juniper for the same exact reasons they always have her. They’re still a bit pathetic around her, but Hettie finds it endearing. Not to mention, Juniper still makes for a good doll to experiment on, and she takes good care of her favorite dolls ;-)

[kathybluecaller]

The submitted version of Smile Force that landed me and @flannagus , as well as two other friends, 5th place for a national competition!!

This initial cut was rather rushed and unfortunately doesn’t contain audio (the song we originally intended to use would have violated the copyright rules and none of use wanted to be disqualified so we ditched it and hoped for the best)

A simple summary of the plot: In a world where three spirits run around wrecking havoc a group of mascots come in to save the day! The villains target adults and through putting them in a bad mood upset the children. Smile Force, consisting of Qubchee (cheese porcupine drummer), Oliver S. Stonks (account bird sax player), Roland Buck (horse plumber guitarist), and Vickey Buck (horse plumber keytarist), make it their sole mission to combat the forces of evil using their musical based powers and bring back the much needed good mood.

Behind the scenes stuff: The prompt we were given was superheroes but figured going with typical powers/appearance would blend in with other submissions. So instead we took inspiration from Twrp and Japanese mascots cause why not. I had already competed to some degree before and humor seems to go a long way so any silly idea was a good idea. Japanese mascots are what inspired the character designs, it helped with standing out as they wouldn’t be human, the silliness came from the fact that often Japanese mascots have rather odd combinations/roles.

A major influence was Nyango Starr, who is an apple possessed by a dead cat who plays heavy metal drums. That seemed absurd enough for a character and had the added bonus of inspiring us to give the characters music based powers. (there’s also this one futon song Nyango Starr plays that inspired the initial idea of lullaby rock song. The thought of Dragon Force music centered for kids is what made us name the hero gang Smile Force: Guardians of Laughter. The look on my friends faces when I told them the other half of the team name is a Twrp reference🤣)

Twrp lore inspired the whole fighting off dastardly haters (sworn enemies of the fun who are bent on hatering them and ungroovifying the world at large). Since the heroes would be fighting for the happiness of the children of the world we initially thought of the villains to be adults kids normally wouldn’t like. A mean teacher, a dentist, your mom. We later came to realize three random people wouldn’t really have that much of an impact on a what is in universe a global scale. So the villains then evolved into The Specters who go by Yo-kai Watch logic, basically they consist of three emotions, Anger, Sadness, and Disappointment, and by slapping a mask onto an adult pass on that negative emotion.

Back to the heroes them being mascots is rather funny to me if this were to be expanded. In universe everyone thinks it’s just some guy in costume but no that is a literal cartoon horse with a magic keytar. Anyway Qubchee came to be because flannagus suggested a porcupine while I was eating an absurd amount of cheese. The character was given the drums just cause(?) not much to it. We had a list of instruments and animals we wanted to use and one of them was a triangle. It would have originally been given to a horse mascot and be beyond overpowered (the scene I had in my head was basically with a single strike destroy a universe levels of power). The reason behind any of this was because of that one dummer that plays the buckets in the bathtub with a horse head on (horse percussionist) we already had a percussionist so we let go of the idea. I did want a pair of sorts because of Chiitan and Shinjo-kun (it’s so funny to me seeing Chiitan on the blue bird app after all this) going with otters seemed to much of a direct inspiration so instead we went back to horses. An early suggestion from a teacher was giving them everyday jobs since you know, they’re mascots, so that’s how the horse twin plumbers came to be (later people would point out ‘like Mario and Luigi?’ and while no I did think it’d be funny if they stared at the camera while fixing a sink) for the instrument by now we had 1 standard instrument and 1 not as much (the saxophone). To keep it even we gave Roland Buck (the brother) a guitar and Vickey Buck (the sister) a keytar

(the twrp references are always there)

btw Roland got his name from the Roland Ax-Synth (what inspired the design of Vickey’s keytar +the Casio AZ-1) while Vickey got her name from what inspired Roland’s guitar (the Flying V). Lastly there’s Oliver S. Stonks who was created while I was storyboarding. We had thought of making one of the members have a saxophone and I really wanted to have a bird character. The same teacher who had suggested plumber also brought up an office worker. With that my 10pm brain thought it’d be funny to make Oliver a tired accountant (because of my aunt). I had given them the tired look but a friend drew they’re version of Oliver with the swirl glasses and so we went with their everyday appearance having the glasses and then taking them off when fighting.

Visual development: Once we had the story and characters we had to figure out how the heck this was going to look like. I struggled with this a lot pushing it back till the very end (and unfortunately doing the entire production phase two weeks before the deadline. note to self never do that again). Trying to tie it all together and prioritizing our main goal of this being a childlike wonder, I landed on making it appear as though a kid had made this. That at home feel was created by using cheap material (literally every physically drawn background is crayola to some degree) some were more simple and was a plan scrap book paper sheet. A lot of notebook paper was used as well. Shots with what was meant to be comic panels were cut out black card stock. My favorite background(s) was the colorful ones used for the transformation scene. It was a bunch of cut out transparent sticky notes

I bit of a node to the album cover(?) of the song we didn’t end up using (Get A Ban Ban, the Japanese opening to one of the Pokémon XY seasons)

The entire mixed media idea came by complete accident/exploration. It was winter break, I was still finishing up the storyboard, I had a single page outline, and unfortunately got the good ol’ art block. Watching Evangelion got me in the mood to animate traditionally and one Strive animation wip later I decided the initial first cut would be done on paper (had my light pad underneath and a text book with a nice pattern)

Early on I had planned the last shot to close like a book Spider-Verse style and after viewing this whole thing as something a kid did for fun I finished off the short exactly like that. The fade into a physical object that was stop motioned to give that whole ‘we’ve just left the imaginary world’ and the pages that flip through the end are a panel for panel retelling of the events in the short. To add to it ‘Guardians’ was totally misspelled to seem like a kid wrote it (and definitely not because I was speed writing at 2am ._.) Anyway it is now currently 2am and I shall continue may rambles at another time (I do however have a little bonus)

Random stuff: Qubchee is the only one without a proper transformation, instead of a different outfit they’re sudden expressiveness contrasts they’re usually blank face so much everyone is like ‘yeah that’s totally someone else’. It wasn’t till getting ready for the national event that we brought up the fact I had never really given any of them genders(?) The only one I had confirmed in my head was Vickey being a girl and that’s about it. Roland I see as a guy and honestly Oliver gives me non binary vibes. To quote my friend ‘well they are colorful’ (they are all queer your honor) Qubchee I genuinely don’t know that’s just a lil blorbo (pats them on the head) Their names came about through a conversation with my siblings while on a car ride back home. It was fun :] Vickey has infinite pocket space and uses her tools (typically the wrench) and moves it around with her music (inspired by the brooms/mops that move around in Fantasia) expanding on her naming coming from that of the Flying V I figured she’d also have that as a nickname as I see her doing this one trick from the Daicon IV film (but with a wrench instead of a sword)

We had planned as part of the booth during the national showcase to have a cereal box prop to give the whole Saturday morning cartoon vibe (Oliver eats all the cereal in the comic on the back) and we were going to make a whole physical copy of the short, burn it on a dvd with a menu and everything, but umm… the digital nightmare struck

I will most definitely continue this project to some degree (and touch up the short and release what I guess you could call the directors cut) if your still reading thank you :] (lemme know what you think about it cause I still got loads to say👀)

(also sorry for any spelling mistakes/straight up not making sense cause again its 2am)

[akela-typo]

for the anons that have asked I have delivered ! 2023 calendar ready for pre order !! will be shipped mid december 💓🫡

I ship internationally!

shop here

[apricusapollo]

this slytherin gang x the breakfast club au is turning out to be a lot longer than I expected not gonna lie–

[greenduvet]

i think my scars from cooking are really beautiful in a way… i am so passionate and hold so much love and devotion to it that through it i give parts of myself to my creations. people over look that the culinary world is art as well. my kitchen is my canvas and im the most free and understood there

[isjasz]

🌕Total Eclipse🌑

Writer: @zipzapzooooooom Editor: @onawhimsicot

Assistance: @gingermaple @kunehokki @corvidaearts @/mybrotherjoso7

and THE AMAZING COVER by googly88fancy!!

===

NO WAY HERE IT IS part 1 of MY TEAM'S COMIC!! FOR @hotguycomiczine !!!!! :D

I pour my blood sweat and tears into this one fr. HGCZ is the most insane project i've been in and I am so so proud of it <3 Big giant shoutout to everyone that ended up in my team, without any of you I couldn't have done it and ty for putting up with my shit HASHDSAEHEGLP. <333

If you haven't yet checked out the entire monster of this amazing zine, def do so here! 🏹

Part 2 will be posted tmr but if u dont want to left on a cliffhanger. pspsppspssps🪤

===

[ START | PREVIOUS | NEXT ]

[ MERCH ] [ MISC ]

[lewisvinga]

no me importa | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; when a recent video exposes y/n and lewis’ relationship, other people think they can comment on their age gap, but at the end of the day y/n and lewis will always love each other

fc; cindy kimberly

warnings; age gap , mentions of 18+ themes

notes; loosely based off of mayor que yo by wisin & yandel and mayor que usted by natti natasha, daddy yankee, wisin & yandel :p , also reader is kinda implied as latina but it’s not important

me 🤝 writing smau’s abt dating older men

masterlist !

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,020,047 others!

yourusername: made vegan alfredo for me n bae, definitely went into a food coma after

tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco

lewishamilton: wifey material

yourusername: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

lewishamilton: it was amazing, love ❤️

yourusername: i put my blood sweat n tears into that alfredo, it better have been damn well amazing😕 ( thank u love💗💗)

username: so this is a confirmation?

username: girl did u not see the video, they were shoving their tongue down each others throat ???😦😦

username: cute but age gap is still icky to me 😕

username: tbh dating someone 13 years older than me is weird asf 😭

rosecoelovescoco: thank’s you’s

yourusername: ur welcome if u stop chasing lunita around 😕

lewishamilton: he is just a baby!

yourusername: so is my gatita lunita , she’s a scaredy cat , literally !!😞

username: she’s so pretty in everything what😞

username: 😍😍😍

lilymhe: cook for me next? 😏😏

yourusername: give me the time n place😉

username: ok but her learning how to make vegan pasta for lewis?? is so??? cute ????🥹🥹

username: he’s a grown man n 13 years older, he can cook for himself

username: it’s never that serious

liked by username, username, and 93,038 others!

f1upadates: Lewis Hamilton and Y/n L/n were both spotted at the British Fashion Awards after confirming their relationship. Thoughts on the new grid couple?

tagged; lewishamilton, yourusername

username: the fact she designed her outfit n did her hair and makeup 😩���

username: they’re such a good looking couple even if he’s like 13 years older than her 😭

username: i need her skincare routine!😩

username: be 13 years younger than your boyfriend helps!

username: she’s so desperate that she needs to date someone older than her? how embarrassing 💀💀

username: her parents must be so disappointed…

username: why? shes a model w her own fashion line dating a 7x (8x) world champion, they’ll be fine😭

username: y’all coming at her for dating someone older like you wouldn’t date your faves who are also older!! she’s just living the y/n life

username: REAL

yourusername posted to their story!

trans. for lyrics ; and i don’t care if i’m younger than you

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 1,230,937 others!

lewishamilton: heard she likes señores [sirs]

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: sir lewis hamilton 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

landonorris: i can’t take you calling him sir every 5 seconds pls stop i beg

georgerussell63: ‘yes, sir’ THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( lando )

landonorris: wait-

yourusername: sorry not sorry, unless you’re a sir you wouldn’t get it 😁

lewishamilton: what she said😁

yourusername: mi amor, te quiero 💗 [my love, i love you]

lewishamilton: i love you🩷

username: idk if i want him or her tbh🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username: she’s so😍😍

username: i’d call him sir any day i get her fr

username: they’re such an attractive couple😩

username: how’d lewis bag her im being so fr

username: bc they’re both fine as fuck 😍

username: mis padres [my parents]

username: mami y papi fr [mommy & daddy]

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,023,044 others!

yourusername: no me importa q usted sea mayor q yo. [i don’t care if you’re older than me]

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: wait, when did you take the second picture?

yourusername: baby i got a whole folder of those type of pictures, i take them every chance i get

username: SHARE W THE PUBLIC HELLO??

yourusername: y/n.jpg but it’s just pics of lewis’ back

lewishamilton: i love you❤️

yourusername: i love youuuu💗

username: the hand pics i’m going insane 😵‍💫🥴

username: ou that back pic, i’m going ferallll

lilymhe: omg bae stop posting pics of me 🙈🙈🙈

yourusername: ur too cute my bad😪

lewishamilton: stop stealing my gf

alex_albon: gf stealer !

username: the 3rd pic🥹🥹

username: yall need a third??

username: i can take them both ( not in a fight )

georgerussell63: if only he could look at me like he looked at u in the last picture 🕊️🕊️🕊️

lewishamilton: i will if you look like y/n

yourusername: my bad i’m too cute 😁

carmenmmundt: merc double dates now??

yourusername: uh duh, merc wags stick together 🫶

[solaireverie]

cl16 | lost in a film scene

summary: [ charles leclerc x f!actress!reader — social media au ] 

sometimes fantasy becomes real life. up-and-coming actress y/n l/n never thought she'd find love when shooting her newest movie, which incidentally involves formula 1, but charles leclerc is determined to sweep her off her feet.

— requested

faceclaim: simone ashley

author’s note: hi there!!! thanks so much for requesting ♡ idk how movies work so suspend your disbelief please lol. i hope that you enjoy this!!

[ masterlist / guidelines ]

89,123 likes

hollywoodupdates Universal Pictures has announced that yourusername will be playing Lila Gallagher, one of the main characters of a highly anticipated motorsports film that will be released next year.

view comments

user ugh i hope they actually represent f1 properly...

↪ user i heard that some of the drivers are involved so it should be okay!! 🤞

user y/n is gorgeous as usual 😍 can't wait to see her slay this role

liked by jacobelordi, raye, charles_leclerc and 23,392,341 others

yourusername monaco grand prix with slipstreammovie 🏎 ❤️🤍 glad to be back in the paddock again

view comments

user what's charles doing in the likes 👀

↪ user he was the one who invited her lmaooo

↪ user wait fr???

↪ user yep 😂 and he still had the audacity to play coy the entire time and act surprised when he saw y/n in the ferrari garage

user i really appreciate how y/n and the rest of the slipstream are genuinely trying to learn more about f1 and motorsport, can't wait for the movie! 🙌

liked by yourusername

user everyone say thank you to y/n for serving everywhere she goes

charles_leclerc enchanté 😉

liked by yourusername

↪ danielricciardo that's my line???

↪ user scratch that what's charles doing in the comments 🤨

charles_leclerc has added to their story

yourusername has added to their story

seen by blakelively, charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter and 3,492,591 others

charles_leclerc added to their story

seen by yourusername, pierregasly, landonorris and 4,129,592 others

liked by charles_leclerc, jacobelordi, slipstreammovie and 52,128,392 others

tagged: slipstreammovie

yourusername and that's a wrap on slipstreammovie 🎬 i'm so excited for you to see the results of our blood, sweat, and tears — in theatres march 2024 🏎💨

view comments

charles_leclerc 👏👏👏

↪ yourusername 💗

↪ user oh my god???

user can't wait 😍

jacobelordi how was karting? 😂

↪ yourusername fantastic, thanks for asking 😌

↪ charles_leclerc if you call shunting it into the walls three times in your first lap fantastic, then yes it was

↪ yourusername french gp 2022...

↪ charles_leclerc okay fine! i never said anything 🥲

↪ user i don't know what's the best part of this conversation 😂 jacob indirectly confirming that karting wasn't a slipstream cast event, which means that y/n went separately with charles, charles teasing y/n, y/n becoming a f1 nerd, or y/n being an absolute savage

user hoping she's actually dating charles omggg

391,128 likes

hollywoodupdates yourusername has arrived on the red carpet for the slipstreammovie premiere! It seems that she's also brought a guest in charles_leclerc, who has been rumoured to be dating the actress since they met at the 2023 Australian Grand Prix. Could this be the confirmation we've all been waiting for?

view comments

user i mean y/n just called charles her partner while talking to an interviewer so i guess it's true 🤯

↪ user she did?

↪ user yeah! i think the quote was "i'm really happy to have my partner with me today, especially since he helped me so much with finding the nuance in my role"

↪ user the racers who are also in love 🥹 idc that y/n is only a driver in the movie she'll always be a 2-time world champion in my heart

liked by yourusername, joris__trouche, slipstreammovie and 48,293,102 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc beyond proud of you, mon amour ❤️ you'll always be p1 in my heart

view comments

yourusername what if i'd rather be on pole position? 😏

↪ charles_leclerc there are children on instagram, y/n

↪ charles_leclerc but anything for you 😉

user I CALLED IT 🫡

user they're such a gorgeous couple 😵‍💫

user love how they're obsessed with each other... me core fr

user when's it gonna be my turn huh @ god 😒

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads

[lustfulslxt]

hi hi! "local" anon here, and i just had a rlly good idea that ik you will deliver perfectly.

matt "accidently" sends reader a d pick and she's all flustered but just doesn't say anything, until like the next day when they all like go out to dinner and everyone's in their own conversation. she just brings it up like, "so what was that pic you sent last night?" and he knows EXACTLY what she's talking about, but is all like "huh? what?"

but then, later that night, she ends up sending a risky pic of her own and then he just texts her saying to like 'come over immediately' or he's coming over to her house and then yk what!!

again, i love your writing and i know you will NOT disappoint with this!! Love you ! 😘

Take The Risk - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : spicy pics and smuttt

a/n : finally!! am i right?? pls look the other way if this is shit, like actually fr.. lmaoooo

—

“This is actually impossible. I’m gonna die of old age before I finish this thing.” I groan to myself, letting my head fall forward onto the table.

It’s been weeks of me staring at all of these pieces, all the exact same, aside from the shape. I’m determined to complete it. I lift my head up, an irregular piece slowly falling from my forehead.

“Who came up with this shit? Why are they so against me?” I ask no one in particular, seeing as I’m completely alone.

I’m convinced whoever created this was just trying to spite me. I can never back of out a challenge, they had to have known that. It’s been hours since I first sat down to work on it today, I am bored out of my mind, but I still can’t put the pieces down. Just as I’m about to toss my head back and cry from frustration, I realize I only have five pieces left. I jump forward, laying them all out in front of me, studying their pattern and the way they could all fit together. It takes maybe another ten minutes before I finally get it.

The last asymmetrical piece, snaps into place, completing the array of silver configuration. Twenty two days, six hundred fifty four pieces later. There she sits, in all her glory. Silver (Krypt), the hardest jigsaw puzzle to solve. This puzzle has no pictures, instead, it simply consists of hundreds of silver pieces, with a circular center and surrounding pieces making the finished jigsaw a plain rectangle. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this thing.

“Never back down, never what?!” I exclaim, jumping up from my seated position, only now realizing how bad my posture is from the ache in my back. I reach my hand around, holding my back as I groan, “Fuck.”

Straightening up, I grab my phone and immediately snap a picture of the completed puzzle. I just have to show Matt, he’s going to be thrilled. I send the photo to him on snapchat, then head to my kitchen. I grab a bottle of water and a bag of chips to snack on, then go upstairs to relax in my bedroom. Once I put my show on the TV, I notice a notification from Matt.

Matty B

NO WAY YOU FINISHED IT

Me

I DID

Matty B

only took you a month lmao

Me

BYE

it was hard asf 👹

Matty B

me too

Me

UM EXCUSE ME

Matty B

whattt

myb

Me

🌚 you can’t just say that then b like ‘mY bAd’

Matty B

i didn’t mean it

Me

oh

Matty B

congrats on finishing the puzzle tho

now i don’t have to listen to you complaining about the creator being against you

Me

blocked.

Matty B

LMFAO

bro. i was joke

Me

awesome to hear bro

I roll away from my phone, grabbing my chips to eat while I watch TV. An hour goes by, before I make my way to the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth, then strip into my pajamas to finally go to sleep. Walking back into my room, I grab my phone to check one last time. As I plug my charger into it, I notice a snapchat from Matt. Upon opening it, my jaw drops.

There, on my screen, is a picture of a dick. Matt’s dick; fully erect, veins dancing alongside it, the tip pink with dribbles of precum. His hand sits at the base, unintentionally giving me a visual comparison of the size, and boy, it’s something. I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight, before snapping out of it and realizing my best friend just sent me a picture of his cock.

I’m at a loss for words. I can’t even think properly, far from being able to articulate a response. So, I just lock my phone and lay down. Yet, every time I close my eyes, I see his dick staring back at me, begging to be touched. I can feel the arousal building in me, my walls now clenching around nothing. Tossing and turning, attempting to ignore the growing desire, I deeply sigh. It’s going to be a long night.

-

I look at my phone screen, observing myself in my front camera. I’m currently about to walk into the restaurant where I’m having dinner with Matt, Nick, Chris, Nate, and Madi. I haven’t addressed the picture Matt sent me yesterday, and he hasn’t brought it up either, but it’s still lingering in my mind.

Putting my phone away, I lock my car and strut towards the entrance of the restaurant. Upon entering, a hostess greets me and directs to the table where my friends reside.

“Y/N!” Nate cheers, causing the rest of them to look over at me, smiles appearing on all of their faces.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m a little late.” I apologize, scooting in next to Matt.

“You’re all good, I ordered your drink already.” Matt informs me, “They should be coming around shortly.”

I smile, “Thanks, Matty.”

Within five minutes, we all receive our drinks and order our food. While waiting on our meals, we resume light conversation. However, I cannot stop thinking about the picture Matt sent me. Every time I look at him, I feel my heart beat faster and my breath gets caught in my throat. Are we just going to forget about it? Is that what he expects? I can’t just forget.

As the other four indulge in their own conversations, I notice Matt is silent, so I use this as my chance to confront him about it.

“Matt?” I call out, loud enough for him to hear me, yet quiet enough so the others don’t.

His directs his attention to me, softly humming in response as his eyebrows raise, expectantly.

“Um, about yesterday..” I trail off, attempting to read his body language.

I see him slightly tense up, clearing his throat as he looks at me, feigning confusion, “What?”

I give him a pointed look, “That picture you sent last night.”

He looks around as if trying to rack his brain, his eyebrows furrowing as he shrugs, “What are you talking about?”

I sigh, coming to a realization that I’m going to get nowhere with this. He knows what I’m talking about. I know he knows, I can see it all over him. Two can play at that game.

I clearly my throat and shake my head, “Actually nothing, forget about it.”

For the rest of the evening, we don’t speak on that topic again. We all just enjoy our food and the company of each other.

After dinner, I arrive home and immediately head to the bathroom for a shower. The entire night, my mind has been stuck on Matthew, wishing we talked about it, longing for more. We’ve never been anything other than friends, but he lit something in me, a fire that I can’t seem to put out. Should I call him over it? Should I do what he did to me?

After getting dressed in nothing but a black lingerie set, I sit in front of my bedroom mirror. I do look good, but should I really do this? Just take a picture and send it? I give myself another once over, before deciding to turn around and lean forward, snapping a quick photo.

I don’t know how much time has passed as I sit there, staring at my screen. My fingers hover over the picture, unsure of what to say, or if I should say anything at all. Taking a deep breath, I full send, then quickly put my phone down, suddenly ridden with more anxiety as I anticipate his response.

Hopefully I’m not reading more into this situation than what it is. Surely Matt is just playing hard to get. If he didn’t mean to send the picture, he would’ve just said that, right? I try to convince myself that he’s just being a tease, but the more I think about it, the more the pit in my stomach grows. After what feels like forever, I reach for my phone and my immediately face falls.

Opened 12 minutes ago.

Before I can even think a single thought, knocks on my front door sound throughout the silent atmosphere. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I grab my black silk robe and slip it on while walking towards the door. Peeking through the peephole, I see Matt standing there, looking antsy. I freeze, my hand stuck on the doorknob, unable to complete the motion of turning it. I toss my head back, taking a deep breath, before pulling the door open. His eyes light up once he sees me, his gaze flickering over my figure before he makes his way inside.

Within seconds, his lips are on mine, needy and desperate. Taking a few seconds to get over the initial shock, my lips move against his, my hands looping around his neck as his hands pull me in closer by my waist. Without removing his lips from mine, he kicks the door shut and walks me backwards, towards my couch.

As soon as my legs hit the side, he pulls back and asks, “Is this okay?”

I eagerly nod, “More than okay.”

A small grin pulls to his lips before they’re back on mine, kissing me with so much hunger. His hands grope at every one of my curves, squeezing and kneading my skin. His hands suddenly grab my robe, pulling it down my arms and letting it fall behind me, before he pulls away and takes in my appearance once again. He licks his lips and tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and I can see the bulge stiffening in his pants.

“Fuck, you’re so fine.” He groans, pulling me back into him.

His hands forcefully grab my face and he slams his lips onto mine once again, pulling our bodies flush together. My hands tread through his hair, tugging as he turns my head to the side and moves his mouth to work down my jaw to my neck. His breath is hot against my skin, his tongue licking and his teeth biting. I can feel my arousal pool in between my legs, and I have to squeeze them together to relieve the tension. His hands travel down to my ass, tightly squeezing and massaging it, only making me more wet as I let out a soft moan.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine, “What do you want, baby?”

I lick my lips, letting out a breath, “You. I want you, Matt.”

Instantly, he pulls his shirt off and comes back to me, pressing his lips on mine again. I reach behind my back, unhooking my bra and letting it fall down my arms and onto the floor. His hands immediately make their way to my boobs, and I’m melting in his palms. He grips them tenderly yet firm, pulling more moans from me. He leans forward and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it as he pinches the opposite one.

The desire in me grows stronger with every touch he graces me with. He knows what he’s doing, and I’m weak in the knees because of it. Kissing me with so much passion and lust, his fingers slip into the waistband of my bottoms, pulling them down with ease, only breaking the kiss to fully remove them. My hands tug at his pants, wanting him to take those off as well, which he does, along with his boxers. We’re left standing, completely naked, and hungry for one another.

He places a couple of soft kisses against my lips, before quickly spinning me around and bending me over the side of the couch. His hands travel down my back, applying just the right amount of pressure, causing me to clench in anticipation. His fingers dig into the skin of my ass, jiggling it, and gripping it with enough strength to surely leave bruises. One of his hands breaks away from me, only to come right back with extreme speed and force. I yelp, jerking forward at the feeling of his hand colliding with my bare skin, a moan soon following as he rubs the place he smacked.

“Just wanna make you feel good, baby.” He whispers against my ear, his fingers trailing between my legs, running over my core.

I let out a whimper, pushing back against his hand for more, but his other hand places a firm hold on my back, keeping me in place. His fingers run through my folds, becoming slick with my wetness, causing him to let out a groan. His fingertips rub my clit in slow and soft circles, adding more pressure and speed with every second, leaving me quivering with moans.

“Mm, such a good girl.” He praises, sinking two fingers into my entrance, ripping a loud moan from my mouth.

“Just wanna be a good girl for you.” I find myself saying in between the whimpers of pleasure.

His pace increases, his fingers pumping in and out of me while his other hand runs up and down my back. I could feel the orgasm building so quickly, begging for release. His hand moves from my back, and starts tracing circles onto my clit once more, his fingers inside me going even faster. My legs start shaking and I’m now putting all my weight onto the couch, way too weak to stand on my own.

“So wet.” Matt mumbles in delight at the sound of his fingers in my juices, “Bet you taste so good.”

“F-fuck, feels so good.” I moan, shuddering as he increases his speed even more. “Gon-gonna cum.”

“Let go, baby.”

His fast movements and the sound of his raspy voice fuel my orgasm, my climax falling upon me quickly. I clench around his fingers, letting myself go and cum all over his hands. He continues finger fucking me, letting me ride out my high. He removes his hands from me and I look back in time to see him sucking all of my juices off of his fingers. The sight alone had me clenching again, eager for more.

“I knew it.” He moans against his fingers, “Taste like I could eat you forever.”

I stand back up on shaky legs, turning to face him and pulling him into a deep kiss, our tongues intertwining and exploring each other’s mouth. His hand comes up to my throat, gently squeezing it, pulling me closer, before pulling us apart altogether.

“We’re not done yet, my sweet girl.” He smirks against my lips, turning me back around and laying me over the couch once again.

He wraps his hand around his dick, stroking it a few times, then runs it through my folds, causing me to shake from the sensitivity. Without a word, he places one hand on my lower back and slowly slides himself in my entrance.

A high pitched moan falls from my lips as he groans, tossing his head back, “Fuck. Been wanting this forever, baby. Feel better than I’ve ever imagined.”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, sliding backwards to take all of him in me. He moans loudly, tightly gripping my hips. He holds me in place as he starts thrusting, digging deeper into me with every pump. His strokes get faster and harder, our skin slapping together as I become a moaning mess. My whole body shakes with every movement of his, my face buried into the sofa, muffling my sounds as he fucks me. My legs tremble as he hits exactly where I need him, and I instantly begin clenching around him.

His hand wraps around my hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugs my head back, “I wanna hear your pretty moans, baby. You like the way I fuck you?”

“Mmm, yes. I love it-” I sound out, breathless from the pleasure. “You fuck me s-so good.”

His thrusts quicken and his grip on my hip tightens. The knot in my stomach continues growing, proving my statement to be true. I’ve never been fucked like this, and I can’t help but think about how I’m so glad I sent him that picture.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good wrapped around my cock, taking me so well. My good girl.” He moans, his hips sputtering.

The pressure in my stomach becomes too much and it’s hard holding it in, my hands gripping the cushions beneath me. He leans forward, his hands intertwining with mine as his lips trail open mouth kisses up and down my back. I can’t help the moans that keep pouring from my mouth, feeling nothing but pure bliss.

“I can feel you clenching around me.” He whispers in my ear, “Cum on my cock, so I can fill you up, pretty girl.”

With that, I let go. My entire body shakes as pornographic moans fall from my lips, my pussy clenching around him so tightly. His strokes become erratic and his moans and groans are louder than before. He quickens his pace as he chases his high, instantly filling me up with a loud raspy moan emitting from his mouth. He continues thrusting into me, pushing his cum deeper. He leans back, standing up straight as we both catch our breaths. His hands find my back once again, softly massaging it. He pulls out, my legs twitching from the stimulation. His hands move down to my ass, gently squeezing it, before he helps me up.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, turning me to face him, keeping his hands around my waist for support.

“Like we should’ve done that a long time ago.” I grin, still breathless.

“We can always make up for lost time.” He grins, placing his forehead on mine.

I nod as we both laugh before he places a few kisses on my cheeks and lips. His hand grabs mine and he pulls me even more into him, capturing my lips in a deep but loving kiss.

“Let’s take a shower, so I can clean you up.” He suggests.

My face heats up and I nod once more, following him upstairs as he never lets my hand go.

Our friendship just changed entirely and I can’t wait for what’s in store for us, because I know it’s going to be euphoric.

—

a/n : tadaaa!!! ugh i hope this wasn’t shit, it’s been forever :((( lmk what you think! requests are closed bc i have wayyy too many that i need to catch up on, but i’m hoping i can get back into it! love uu <333

[ssparksflyy]

BUT I DONT WANNA DANCE, IF IM NOT DANCING WITH YOU ♡ !

pairing percy jackson x ballerina!reader summary (smau) just a few days in the life as a pro ballerina nd her loving bf ( ꈍ◡ꈍ) an guys i dont know anything abt ballet please dont come for me 😭 also!! first smau and first time writing in foreverrrrr

♡ liked by perseajackson, annie.beth, prettygirlpipes, hazelluvsu, clarisseswrld, lightning.mcqueen and others

soyn last few days in the studio have been soso hectic but im forever great full i get to spend them with some of the most beautiful amazing dancers in the whole wide worlddd ‹𝟹 ( dont forget to buy ur tickets for our upcoming recital !! )

annie.beth u guys literally look so good !! popped in the other day to help with lighting issues and oh em gee im so excited nd proud!!

⤷ soyn and u didnt say hello !! literally what !!

⤷ annie.beth my boss didnt let me ᴖ̈

⤷ soyn they hate to see us together fr

tallesttiptoes blood sweat nd tears going into this guys buy ur tickets ꃋᴖꃋ

⤷ soyn no literally like the amount of band-aids i have on rn ....

⤷ perseajackson can confirm shes gone through two boxes of hello kitty band-aids in the last month

lightning.mcqueen where can i buy tickets plsss (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

⤷ soyn TY JASON !! (balletwebsite.com) !!

♡ liked by soyn, letsbefrank, sillysallyjackson, underwoodz, annie.beth, fireboy, lightning.mcqueen and others

perseajackson day like forty seven of trying new recipes except when i tried making what i had originally planned i spilled like half of our salt ... we resorted to pasta but its a win cause my gf loves pasta

fireboy how the hell did u spill half of ur salt

⤷ perseajackson ive literally watched you intentionally put seven cups of salt into a cake before

⤷ fireboy ... and what im a salty man

⤷ prettygirlpipes we know

lightning.mcqueen waiting for the day u make me dinner ᴖ̈

⤷ perseajackson ill make u a full course meal bro dw

⤷ lightning.mcqueen bro ily

⤷ perseajackson omg no ily more

view more replies

soyn best chef in ny fr !! after ur mom ofc

⤷ perseajackson real i can never compete with her she'd eat me up

⤷ soyn its cause she's sally jackson babe dw

now playing ... birds of a feather by billie eilish

♡ liked by annie.beth, soyn, perseajackson, lightning.mcqueen, hazelluvsu, fireboy, letsbefrank and others

prettygirlpiper group met up at the fair this weekend nd omg ... i have not laughed n had so much fun since i cant even remember like core memory fr + everybody's fav couple making the whole fair feel single

annie.beth WE LITERALLY NEED TO DO THIS MORE IT WAS SM FUN

⤷ fireboy YALL DONT UNDERSTAND I HAVE NO LIFE IM FREE WHENEVERRR ( ˶•ᴖ•) !!

hazelluvsu i had so much fun except for when i almost died of laughter after watching jason lose at thirteen games in a row

⤷ lightning.mcqueen TRAITOR

⤷ perseajackson damnnnn u did my man dirty hazel

⤷ letsbefrank nah cause it was genuinely sad after a while

⤷ lightning.mcqueen percy ur the only one who understands me

soyn ily guys sm omgggg (pipes dont be shy send me that pic ˘ ³˘)

⤷ prettygirlpiper i gotchu pooks dw ♡

♡ liked by perseajackson, tallesttiptoes, letsbefrank, luvrgirlsteph, annie.beth, prettygirlpiper, fireboy and others

soyn im working late, cause im a singer dancer ( recital is in two days we r stressing but so ready !! )

tallesttiptoes OH YEAH im so ready (im not ready at all) literally so pumped (crying in my closet rn) i CANNOT wait (im going to kms)

⤷ luvrgirlsteph WE GOT THIS GIRL DONT KYS ‹𝟹

perseajackson ilysm babe u got this !!

⤷ soyn tysm percy ily (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)

⤷ prettygirlpiper omg i hate u guys #bringbacktoxiccouples

⤷ perseajackson stay jealous

hazelluvsu u got this yn !! ur an amazing leader i just know all the girls in ur studio r so lucky to be working with u !!

⤷ tallesttiptoes YESS WE AREEEE

⤷ luvrgirlsteph yn my fav dancer fr !!

⤷ soyn ilysm pretty girls ‹𝟹

now playing ... new years day by taylor swift

♡ liked by perseajackson, tallesttiptoes, annie.beth, prettygirlpiper, fireboy, clarisseswrld, lightning.mcqueen and others

soyn theres glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, and i am holding onto these memories as they hold onto me- we did it !!

perseajackson words cannot explain how proud i am of u babe, i literally started crying and the guy next to me hugged me and we cried TOGETHER

⤷ soyn NO WAY NO U DID NOT

⤷ lightning.mcqueen yes he did leo and i can confirm ill send u the pics rn

⤷ soyn THIS IS GOLDEN WHAT

fireboy THAT WAS SO COOL U LOOKED LIKE A PRINCESS I WANNA DO BALLET

⤷ soyn BETTTT LEO U GOT THAT

⤷ prettygirlpiper ohmygod i cannot wait to see how this ends

annie.beth U GUYS DID SO WELL IT WAS AMAZING !!

⤷ hazelluvsu my jaw was literally on the floor to whole time ꃋᴖꃋ

⤷ letsbefrank drop the leg day routine cause HOW

⤷ soyn STOPPP ILY GUYS SM (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)

© ssparksflyy ┊ ur user was inspired by so high school n so american - like if you put my name in it would be 'sobells' yk?? yk.

[bamber344]

the blue badger is such a fucked up guy honestly. he was born of cardboard and plywood and paint and detective gumshoe's literal blood sweat and tears and became a monument to the police state with his own fucking theme park and family of spin-off badgers and merch. he does a funny little dance where he busts it down sexual style so damn hard fr. he and his theme music live forever in my brain rent free due to being forced to listen to his song on repeat for hours while trying to rotate a fucking vase to match the shape of his stupid little head in some torturous propaganda ploy by the damon gant and the japanifornia court system to turn us all into sleeper agents of the police state if we ever hear the music again. a more omnipresent force in the ace attorney universe there never was. apart from the gay subtext, of course.