#these just keep getting longer and longer lmao

[anythingneverythingnstuffs]

ahh throwback to the jumble of words that started it all. when this began, I had no clue it would be any longer than this very short imagine and poorly formatted imagine lmao

more neighbor!reader x simon 'ghost' riley to come, and perhaps one day, it will be an entire fic dedicated to our favorite reader and their military man neighbor

I make no solid promises, seeing as I'm kind of a flaky bitch that disappears from time to time, but alas

love youuuu

also I just half ass rewrote the first bit so surprise you're welcome if you read this far

You had moved into the apartment complex weeks ago, but you had only heard rumors about your absent neighbor that lived in the unit next door to yours. Supposedly, he was a military man on deployment, according to Mrs. Jenkins. Gone a lot, she'd said, but even keeps to himself when he's home.

One afternoon, you finally saw a new vehicle pull into the apartment complex's parking lot out back. Thank goodness it was your day off, and you had been baking for a while now, so you had freshly baked cookies to welcome your neighbor back home. Some were cooling on the counter, some were still in the oven.

You waited about thirty minutes after he got home before you knocked on his door, a small tray of freshly baked, still warm cookies in your hands. You didn't want to come over right away, wanted to give him some time to get situated.

That was when Simon 'Ghost' Riley, still wearing his tactical gear and signature black balaclava, opened his door only to look down at you, a short, wide-eyed woman carrying a small tray of cookies. And somehow, even when you tilted your chin up to look at him more clearly (he was taller than you thought he'd be, but he was still wearing his combat boots, so he was probably at least 6'7) you continued to smile at him as if you weren't afraid of him. Even in his full military gear. Even with his balaclava.

Your eyes made contact with his as you told him your name, your genuine smile never faltering. He could see the sincerity in your eyes. It caught him off guard, big time.

Off his rhythm, he introduced himself to you as "Simon". Not Ghost, not Lieutenant Riley, not Simon Riley. Just Simon.

He blinked, looking down at the tray of cookies in your hands still. "Are those... All for me?"

You chuckled. "Absolutely."

Imagine living nextdoor to Ghost

Imagine only hearing about him from your neighbors down the hall, since he was still deployed when you moved into your apartment

Imagine *finally* seeing a new car pull into the parking lot, and thanking the gods that today was baking day so you had freshly baked cookies for your neighbor. They were still warm, too

Imagine waiting about thirty minutes after he gets home before you knock on his door, a small tray of freshly baked, still warm cookies in your hands

Imagine Ghost opening his door to see you, a strange woman he's never met before (even though you had been living there for months at that point), smiling and with a tray of cookies in your arms. You didn't even flinch at his mask

Imagine introducing yourself to him, your smile never faltering as you tell him your name, looking right into his eyes

Imagine him stammering out his own name, telling you that you can just call him Simon, and by the way, are those cookies for him?

ugh just imagine

next

[vivwritesfics]

Ooo I saw ur edging Oscar and lando one now I propose overstimming them both😏😏😏

18+ smut warning

okay oscar literally wouldn't let you

like you do all the tricks on lando

edging him

not letting him cum

keeping him in your mouth as he calmed down only to start again

it was torturous

even at the end of the night, when you were getting up to shower, he didn't hadn't cum

all he could do was whine pathetically

you tried that shit with oscar

and it wouldn't fly

it was amusing to him, when you did it to lando

but the second you pulled away from him, attempted to leave him high and dry, he pulled you back onto him

pulled you mouth back onto his cock, brought you back to riding him

imagine it

lando laying there, cock leaking as he desperately wanted to cum

you riding oscars cock as he flipped the script on you

bc, you try it with him once, you're no longer allowed to cum

he can fill you over and over

but you're not allowed to cum

you were about to become just as desperate as you were willing to make him feel

again and again and again

all too much and not enough at once

you suddenly realise how you made lando feel

desperate

about to fall over the edge

like everything was too much

it was euphoric

(it ended with you and lando rutting against each other

both desperate to cum

he had forgotten how mean you were earlier

as long as oscar didn't find out

bc then you'd both be in trouble)

this week has been hell. and it just gets worse lmao. i get an original idea is hard but my entire fucking fic has essentially been stolen and i don't know what to do. i was turning this fic into a novel because of how fucking special it is to me and i can't write it rn bc i am traumatised by something that happened earlier this week. i can't fucking push past that to keep going and now im feeling like im losing for fic because some asshole has stolen it

[monster-effer]

Oh okk my wifi been acting up lately💀 I requested hcs with all the l&ds men about how'd they react to finding out reader can secretly pole dance, sfw and nsfw hcs if you do nsfw please! Thank you!!💕

This was a really fun concept to write about!!

It seems I am incapable of describing things concisely because this turned out much longer than I expected LMAO, I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

Sylus

Funnily enough, this starts from a game of tipsy Truth of Dare with Luke and Kieran. You chose truth and they asked you to tell them one unknown fact about yourself. You are a certified yapper when you’re tipsy so you blabbed about your pole dancing hobby then passed out and forgot about your confession.

Of course this info made its way back to Sylus (most likely that same night). And he was intrigued. He would tease you while asking why you’ve been keeping such an interesting hobby from him.

The very next day he would have a pole installed in one of the spare rooms of his home base.

The room would be decorated with in dark, seductive colors with ceiling lights that  showcase the pole and the immediate area around it.

There is no furniture in the room besides a plush black arm chair and a side table.

Sylus calls you over to the N109 Zone saying that he has a surprise for you.

When you arrive he’s all smirks and being more vague than usual. You also don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

As he lets you walk into the room first, you are speechless.

“Forgive me if this is too presumptuous kitten, but I couldn’t get the image of you pole dancing out of my mind. I have a request, why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sylus chuckles huskily before replying “Have I ever left you empty handed? You know me better than that.”

You gulp at his offer and quickly don the outfit and shoes that are placed neatly near the pole in the room.

Sylus dims the lights in the room, with the ceiling lights over the pole brighter than the rest. He settles into the armchair and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He adjusts himself in his pants, already feeling his cock stiffen from the anticipation.

You stretch and take a few breaths to get yourself in the zone.

You connect your phone to the speaker in the room then play the first song from your pole dancing playlist.

Once you feel confident and ready, you make eye contact with Sylus and begin to sway to the seductive music.

Although you took several classes in person, you have never performed for anyone before.

You begin to slowly whine your hips to the beat and spin while maneuvering around the pole.

With Sylus’ full attention focused on you, you can’t help but feel like a goddess.

Sylus’ gaze is practically searing your skin. You begin to perspire from the effort you’re putting into this performance. Feeling bold, you slide all the way down the pole until your thighs are flush with the floor. Then, you crawl towards Sylus.

Sylus sharply inhales and puts down his emptied glass on the side table as he eagerly awaits what’s to come.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his knees and slowly rise to your feet. You flash a mischievous smile at him before straddling his lap. Then you wind your arms around his neck and look into his eyes as you grind down hard onto his lap.

Your breath intermingles as you hypnotize him with your undulating hips. When your performance ends you are lightly panting, nervously awaiting to hear his thoughts.

Sylus is mesmerized by the gift you’ve just given him. And he can’t help but to cup the right side of your face before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Your lips glide against one another before you both have to pull away to catch your breath.

“Does that mean you enjoyed the show?”

“You were exquisite my sweetie,” he says as he places his hands under your thighs and rises from the chair. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks towards the door of the room.

“Now, let me give you your prize for that outstanding performance.”

Zayne

Zayne is walking around downtown Linkon when something catches his eye. He sees someone that looks suspiciously like you in the window of a fitness class. He has eyes for no one else as he watched you swing effortlessly around the pole. Not wanting to be mistaken for a pervert, he only watches for a few more moments before continuing on his walk.

He ends up walking past his intended destination because he was lost in thought over what he saw. So many questions pop into his mind. Luckily it is Thursday, and he has plans with you this weekend.

Saturday morning finally arrives, and you are at Zayne’s door holding an assorted box of fruit flavored macaroons.

As you let yourself in with your key, you find Zayne washing dishes in his kitchen. He is lost in his thoughts because he doesn’t immediately notice you’ve come in. You place the macaroons on the kitchen counter before circling his waist with your arms and resting your head on his back.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says softly.

“I just arrived. A penny for your thoughts?”

He finishes washing the dish in his hand before he dries his hand on a clean dish towel. He untangles his body from yours so he can face you.

“I saw something interesting when I was taking a stroll in downtown Linkon earlier this week.”

“Oh? And what was so interesting that it’s stayed on your mind until now?”

Zayne pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as a light blush overtakes his cheekbones.

“I saw someone who looked exactly like you a few days ago. They could have been your doppelgänger.”

It doesn’t immediately register in your mind that he’s talking about you yet.

“Oh? And what was my twin doing?”

He clears his throat before continuing. “Pole dancing,” he says in a low tone.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots.

“O-oh,” you say shakily.”

“It’s a new hobby that I picked up recently. I didn’t think you, my doctor, would complain about me building muscle,” you reply cheekily.

“It seems you misunderstood me. I am far from complaining. I do have a request though.”

“And what is that?”

“I request an encore performance, just for me. Considering your medical condition, it is not advisable to begin a new exercise routine without first consulting your doctor.” He says with the smallest grin on his face.

“When is your next available appointment? I had a pole installed in my apartment a week ago. We can conduct your assessment there.”

Rafayel

Rafayel comes across your knee pads and skimpy outfit when he visits your apartment one day.

“What kind of event calls for this outfit cutie?” He asks while holding up your short shorts and knee pads.

IMO Rafayel would be very curious about your pole dancing skills. He would teasingly request a demonstration of your skills and he’d be adorably flustered as he watches your body wind up, down and around the pole.

The man would be flabbergasted and turned on at this demonstration of strength and the expression of freedom as you perform for him.

The sensual nature of this private show is heavy in the room. He’s never seen you look so confident and carefree before. He lets out a weak moan as he watches you and begins to palm his erection through his dress pants.

As a result of your performance, his libido and creativity are at an all time high.

He would have a pole installed in his studio and call you over one day.

He would request that you to hold various poses for him as he attempts to capture the raw sensuality you exude.

Rafayel would get so worked up while he paints that his ever steady hand begins to shake. Before he is done, he is begging for you to use him for your own pleasure. Whether it be riding his face, his cock or his fingers. Any of those get him off because your pleasure is his.

This develops into a pleasurable cycle.

One, two, three paintings later result in Rafayel being desperate and needy for you. More so than he already was. He is never letting you go.

And the paintings of you begin to pile up in his studio. But they aren’t for sale of course, they are for his eyes only.

Because to Rafayel you are the most captivating work of art he’s ever seen, and he will not share this side of you with the rich schmucks that can afford his art.

Caleb

Caleb finds out about your new hobby during one of his visits to Linkon. Instead of heading to his apartment in Skyhaven, he came over to your apartment for a change of pace.

When he walks into your apartment, he is immediately greeted by the pole you had installed in your living room.

He playfully raises his eyebrow and tilts his head to the side as he says, “I didn’t know you have this in you pipsqueak.”

You shrug and say, “I’m not a kid anymore Caleb.”

He slowly eyes you up and down. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. How exactly did you start this new hobby?”

As you explain that you got into pole dancing for fun and strength building Caleb is nodding along with your reasoning.

“Strength building huh? Show me what you’ve learned so far princess.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. But you eventually agree then go change into the performance outfit that gives you the most confidence.

Caleb is already feeling flustered when he sees the skimpy outfit you changed into. He has tried not to act on his long held crush but today may push him past his limit.

As you stretch you wonder if this is crossing the line for what is acceptable to do with a childhood friend/pseudo brother figure. Although you’ve denied it on multiple occasions, your feelings for Caleb lost their innocence well before this moment.

You grab your bluetooth speaker and turn on some music. As you lock gazes with Caleb you feel like this is the point of no return.

Caleb looks suspiciously comfortable seated on your living room couch, thighs spread wide and arms resting on the back of the sofa.

You gaze trails away from him as you close your eyes to get yourself into the zone. After taking a deep breath, you begin to strut around the pole. You seamlessly transition into a routine that you’ve practiced multiple times. But today it feels different, somehow more intimate because Caleb is watching you.

You lose yourself in the music as you climb the pole and twirl slowly down it. You feel so seductive in this moment as you lock eyes with Caleb and take in his reaction.

Caleb was already attracted to you because how could he not be? But tonight, he is struggling to hold back his possessive urges to stake his claim on you. In his mind, you have always been his and tonight he’s going to make sure you know it.

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish your routine before he activates his evol and pulls you right into his lap. His violet eyes were filled with lust as he takes in the surprised look on your face.

You are shook to say the least. Caleb doesn’t use his evol on you often, and when he has it was never for something like this. The tension between you two is thick as you look into each other’s eyes.

“I take it that you liked the show?”

“I’m sure you can feel how much I enjoyed it princess. From now on think I’ll be crashing at your place whenever I’m in town,” he says before pulling you into a messy kiss.

Xavier

Xavier finds out about your new hobby from overhearing a conversation you were having with Tara and Simone.

From the brief snippets he heard, it seemed like something you were really excited about. It made him wonder why you haven’t mentioned it to him yet. Since you two talk practically every day there have been plenty of opportunities to do so.

A few weeks pass before Xavier feels like he’s given you enough time. He decides to bring it up while you two laze around his apartment.

“I heard you talking to your coworkers about your new hobby.”

You choke on your boba tea.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah,” he answers breezily. “What is it?”

“I’m learning how to pole dance. It utilizes multiple muscle groups and I like how it makes me feel.”

Xavier is shocked but he doesn’t let it show on his face. “How does it make you feel?”

You whisper out “Strong…and beautiful.”

Xavier hums lightly at your answer.

“Are you allowed to record yourself in the classes you take?”

“I would have to check. But, I had a pole installed in my apartment a few days ago.”

A small smile appeared on Xavier’s face. “Can you show me your moves bunny?”

You send a flirtatious smile his way before standing up and walking towards his front door.

Let’s just say that Xavier is mystified by your hips. You show out for him just to see what causes him to lose his composure. It happens to be the moment that you slide down the pole, proceed to stand up and swivel your hips in a figure eight motion that does it.

Xavier flashes over to the pole, grabs you, then sits back on the couch while holding you in his lap. “Continue dancing,” is all he says in the commanding tone that makes your heart quiver. When you look in his eyes you realize you may have pushed him too hard.

You gyrate in his lap as you hold his gaze, charmed by his blue eyes that have darkened with lust.

His thumbs are digging into your hips, holding you in place. As if you’re trying to escape.

Xavier would 100% whisper some nasty shit into your ear while you continue to grind on him. Once he’s had enough let’s just say that your bed frame and pussy never recovered ♡.

[spideyanakin]

Reader being a cat to reveal who the traitor is genius. And I think peter noticed the symbolism behind it.

The part with the widow pearls was sad, rip regulus 😔

I cant wait to read more on reader being Madam Black 🤭

THANK YOU HIHIHIHIHI

I'm so glad you noticed <3 I was so happy when I came up with the idea of the cat hihi. Also reg will always be in our hearts ♥️

here is mr black and mrs black reuniting to heal our hearts

all I think about now - masterlist

summary - sirius black x malfoy + slytherin! reader, the order takes a break after peter has been caught, sirius joins you outside for some fresh air (and some revelations)

warnings - revelations and reunions <3, yearning, longing, and everything in between. mentions of minor character death (r's mom who was sick), smoking (s bad for u), james being a menace, spot the Metallica reference lmao

read the part before

The soft autumn air suddenly felt heavy.

You kept facing the sea, watching as the waves grazed the sand below the cliff. You could feel Sirius shifting beside you, the sound of his leather jacket, the zipper of a pocket, and the crisp sound of a cigarette box with the wrapper still half on.

The spark of his lighter caught the corner of your eye, and soon after followed a cloud of smoke gently blown your way by the wind.

With your gaze still fixed on the waves, you saw his hand move towards you, offering you his cigarette. You took it without a second thought. You hadn't smoked since the last time you had seen him.

You took two long drags before you handed it back to him, your gazes still refusing to meet.

A sense of deja vue filled you. Suddenly you were back atop the astronomy tower at the start of your seventh year. Tension slithering between you before it would hopefully crack.

You knew how it had gone the last time. You could never stay apart from him for long. You had always felt close, no matter how far. No matter how many times life has pulled you away from one another, you still felt that tug, that string pull you towards him.

But no matter how hard it was, there was a reason the two of you had called it off the last time. There was a reason you had tried to break that unbreakable string.

You were to be married to his brother, which you now were.

You had pledged your allegiance to the dark lord.

There wasn’t a world anymore where the two of you could have attempted keeping this up.

In 7th year, you were already risking your life sneaking around. You had both risked your lives trying to see each other after graduation, and then he had risked his life coming to see you, for one the last time, the night before your wedding.

The grey area you had been dancing around had been reduced to ashes by the exceedingly fast brewing war.

And now, as you smoked together watching the waves dance upon the sand, it seemed that maybe, just maybe there was a flicker of hope for a happy ending.

But how could he forgive you for never choosing him?

After an unknown number of smoke clouds, he sighed. It wasn't out of annoyance. It was soft, as if he was finally getting rid of an unknown tension that prevented him from voicing anything.

"How have you been?" You could tell he had a hard time asking. Voice laced with rugged emotions as he kept his gaze toward the waves.

You finally dared to look at him.

"Frankly, I do not really know. You?"

He laughed the tension out his shoulders, "frankly? I don't know either."

"Well, that makes two of us."

It took him another minute before he looked at you after he discarded his cigarette.

You stayed without a word spoken as he scanned your face. Your tired eyes peering back at him.

His hair was longer than when you last saw him, and a huddle of tattoos peeked out of his clothes anywhere skin would dare show. You could tell he was probably just as tired as you, but his eyes still held that fire you loved so much about him.

Salazar you had missed him.

But emotions didn't have time to surface because soon enough his gaze tore away from you, and you found yourself looking down to your shoes.

"How long have you been on our side?" He asked, and you heard him huff as he tried fishing for a second cigarette.

"Since we left Hogwarts."

You watched as Sirius dropped his lighter, a surprised groan leaving his lips.

You both bent down to pick it up, fingers brushing as you reached for the lighter first. You handed it to him.

It felt like sparks flew from the mere brush of your hands, and you knew Sirius had felt it too by the surprise in his eyes. With a second too long of your hands lingering, you finally spoke through the ice.

"I missed you."

"Why didn't you tell me you were working for the order?" His voice was soft, and you carefully scanned his traits as he placed his new cigarette to his lips and lit it.

"To keep you safe."

"I could have handled it."

"Sirius..."

"I can't believe it."

"Is it so hard to believe?"

"If I’m being honest, yeah!" His voice rose from an octave or two until he got quieter again. "After you refused to come with me, twice. Yeah. Especially since, apparently, the second time I asked, you were already allied with Albus."

"Sirius..." you trailed as you watched him advert your gaze as he burned away his cigarette, sighing half of the smoke through his nose.

"You couldn't leave. I know." He looked down.

"I wanted to," you stepped closer to face him, trying to gain his eyes. "You out of anyone should know how desperately I wanted to be like you, be with you," your voice quivered. "But I had strings attaching me there, I had my mother to take care of, and then- then when she passed and I finally thought I could leave, that nothing kept me back anymore I-" You stopped in your rambles, too afraid of voicing the rest of your thoughts.

Sirius was staring back at you with glassy eyes, mouth slightly agape at your sudden confession. You were about to leave. You were actually going to, but then his face hardened again, the sudden reminder of reality hitting him.

He didn't need to be a genius to figure out what had kept you there. If his information was correct your son was born around nine months after your wedding. Your mother died barely two months after the ceremony.

"Another string kept you attached."

"Yes," your voice was hoarse over the suppression of your tears, and it took you another minute before you managed to use your voice again. "I didn't mean it to."

That seemed to get his attention, and you watched as confusion riddled his eyes.

You took in a sharp breath. You weren't even close to ready to have this conversation, but here you were, plotting against the dark lord, not even being sure of making it past these next few weeks.

It was now or never.

"Breaks over!" James's voice rang from the opened window, causing your shoulders to jump at the interruption.

Sirius dropped his dying cigarette before pressing it with his foot and giving you the best sad and tired smile he could muster as he headed back to the door.

"Wait, Sirius," you caught his arm before he could grab the handle. "If anything were to happen... to me or r-" you caught yourself. "If anything were to happen, promise me you will take care of Perseus."

You could feel him tense under your touch at the mention. His expression almost stoic as his movements fully stopped.

He caught your gaze and suddenly something seemed to shift in him, he almost smiled.

"So that's the little rascal's name."

The lightness in his voice took you aback, and you almost smiled too.

"Yes. Perseus Sirius Black," you sheepishly mumbled and watched his eyes widen.

"Is that why Walburga and Orion finally kicked the bucket? Must of given them both of heart attack," he mumbled and this time you couldn't help but smile.

"No," you bit your lip. "Your mother insisted he wore Reg’s name. We told her he did but we wrote Sirius on the official papers."

"First borns usually take their middle names after their fathers."

“They do…"

Sirius couldn’t decipher your expression but took it as a sheepish ‘we broke the rules, so what’ because he couldn’t even dare to even think of looking into the fact that you could mean anything else by it.

"Didn't take my brother for a sentimental," he muttered before fixing his hair in attempt to distract himself. "I'll do what I can, but I promise you, it won't come to that. You'll come home to him."

He reached for the door again, and the burning feeling that after tonight, you weren’t sure when you would see him again came nagging at your gut.

The same voice rang through your mind again.

It was now, and If not, the possibility of never.

"Regulus never laid a finger on me," you blurted out.

Sirius turned back to you with a confused expression, one hand already on the door handle.

"We, um-" You were blinking extremely fast now, heart fluttering uncontrollably as he awaited for you to elaborate. "Weneverconsummatedthemarriage."

"Sorry?" Sirius tried to comprehend the string of blabber. He had heard it. But it just didn't make sense in is mind.

Nope. Absolutely zero sense.

But then by the look of absolute terror and pain in your eyes, he seemed to connect two and two together.

His jaw opened by itself, literally like one of those muggle cartoons Lily made Harry watch on Friday nights using what she called a TV.

He wanted to speak. Say something, anything. But all words died down in the back of his throat.

Suddenly Sirius fell. One second he was leaning against the door and the next he was being swished backwards and harshly onto the wooden floor of location twelve, which didn't make any sense because there was supposed to be a door behind him.

He blinked to realize that his hand was indeed still securely on the handle of said door, with James sheepishly on the other side of it.

"Prongs!"

"Sorry mate didn't know you were behind it." He looked at you and then back at Sirius, "we're waiting for you."

[iscdisc]

Little bit of a 2012 rant / tangent with this one- LMAO

I genuinely loathe the writers of this show painting Za-Naron (The Aeon that was housed inside of the crystal that April was given during Season 4-) as this "evil entity" or "evil being" when I genuinely disagree-??

It makes me sad because I feel like Za-Naron was more of a victim than the show acknowledges? My biggest reason for thinking this is because of the fact that things seemed fine / copesthetic with Za-Naron while April was still in Space. I also think it helped that they didn't stay in one place / planet for too long during the Space Arc, which could have also prevented any corruption with Za-Naron during that timeframe. But then when April returns to Earth, of course she's going to stay there permanently / for a WAY longer amount of time because that's her home. The show even states that Earth (More specifically humanity-) was the sole cause of Za-Naron's deterioration (From basically, "City At War" to "The Power Inside Her"-). Za-Naron couldn't just leave, you know-?? She was essentially powerless and helpless during this time, and was ultimately forced to be corrupted,,

I'm not saying that this was entirely April's fault, because it's not like April can control the fact that Aeons are kind of fragile to environments that don't necessarily benefit them- But I do think her attachment to the Aeon crystal and the fact that she enjoyed the power boost that she got from Za-Naron's power did play a significant part in Za-Naron's downward spiral,,

I also wish April wasn't painted as such a victim in this entire situation, personally-?? I know a lot of people like to point out that Za-Naron's corruption was the biggest reason as to why April was acting "out of character", but personally I disagree for two reasons. One, we've seen April have shitty moments before the Aeon crystal was given to her in Season 4 (Not that the show necessarily likes to acknowledge them as bad moments from her- 🙄). So it's not like she's entirely innocent or incapable of having these types of reactions / bad attitudes, not to mention the fact that it rarely gets addressed by her friends at all (And if we're being speculative I personally think she knows that they don't call her out on anything-?? That's why I personally think it was so easy for her to keep the crystal despite everyone pretty much acknowledging that it was bad for her, because when she tells them to leave her alone, they actually listen. But let this be any other character than April and they would've forcefully taken that crystal away post haste, dude. 💀). And two, April's still human at the end of the day- I feel like she should've been allowed to be an asshole and it not be because of some outside influence-? I think this would have been a great way to stray away from this "perfect / flawless" persona that they like to associate with her character so badly. April should be allowed to have moments where she acts out and does things that are messed up simply because she's having an immature moment / she's clearly still is growing as a person. Just like everyone else.

That's what's super upsetting about this entire Aeon crystal Arc with April for me, because I feel like instead of these writers painting April as a victim (yet again) of an alien possessing her / it being a, "There was nothing she could have done- Oh no ! Poor April ! 😢" type of scenario, this Arc should have been about her having a really terrible moment as a character and growing from it / truly taking accountability and solving the issue herself. I think this should have been about her feeling weak and growing attached to the power and competence she gained from Za-Naron / Za-Naron's power. This would have made sense?? Not only could this have been a good callback to April during Season 2 when she was expressing frustration with the Turtles always helping her during combat (i.e. "The Kraang Conspiracy"-), but we also had this issue be revisited in the same Season with "City At War" and her feeling incompetent / not where she wants to be yet again (Which "City At War" this is a whole other can of worms, because I hate this episode too. They could have done so many things differently, and I don't know why they chose to do this episode the way that they did- 💀).

I guess to summarize, I think April should've properly owned up to the fact that she did mess up as well in this situation (Because I know Za-Naron was not entirely innocent and her way of thinking wasn't okay, but I'm not surprised by that given that she's an ancient alien species and probably has a very straightforward / tunnel vision kind of logic-) and Za-Naron maybe should have been sent back to Space / her home planet to recover from such a traumatic incident. Or something. 👍 Lmao

[azaharinflames]

Hello! I apologize for any awkward expressions, as I'm not American and not very proficient in English.

I wasn't part of the 9-1-1 fandom and watched it whenever I had time. It was a light show for me, but while watching 9-1-1, I hoped that Buck would find a partner to settle down with and be happy. (And I never felt even 1% of romantic feelings between Buck and Eddie.) When Buck broke up with Taylor, I understood the reason but felt regretful. After that, Tommy appeared as a meaningful LI. I sincerely cheered for Buck, seeing him happy.

I had high expectations for S8, but in 801, Tommy appeared briefly, and until 804, no one mentioned Tommy, which I found strange. Then I watched 805 and thought Henren's story was forced, but I liked Buck and Tommy's story. Then I watched 806, and... Buck and Tommy can break up. If it had been for a convincing reason like with Buck and Taylor, I would have been sad but understood. However, I couldn't understand the story in 806 at all, and the characters felt unfamiliar, as if they weren't the characters I knew. And the interviews with Tim and OS gave me trauma after enjoying watching 9-1-1 all this time.

Only Lou understood and empathized with me. I didn't know Lou and didn't remember Tommy from S2. I supported Buck and Tommy solely because Buck was happy... Especially OS's interview made me feel like Buck and Tommy were ignored as if they didn't exist. I don't usually have expectations for actors, but I was really disappointed. So, even though I subscribed to Disney+ annually because of 9-1-1, I no longer watch 9-1-1. I know that my not watching won't change anything. And I know that Tim doesn't have the ability to create good, creative stories. Knowing that Buck will just keep running in the same hamster wheel, I really lost expectations for Buck. Of course, knowing that other 9-1-1 characters besides Buck will also run in slightly different hamster wheels without development, I lost interest in the show itself.

Furthermore, I was honestly disappointed with the production team and the broadcasting company for not thinking of protecting the actor who was insulted and attacked in all sorts of ways just because they were Buck's LI. In the country where I live, if such a situation occurred, there would have been an official message from the broadcasting company and production team to stop the attacks and hatred.

I'm sorry for sending such a negative and pessimistic message. I wanted to confide in someone. Even if Tommy doesn't appear again, I plan to continue enjoying BuckTommy content on Tumblr and AO3, but I really miss the time when I was looking forward to and waiting for S8.

Hi, Nonnie! Sorry for taking a bit, physical therapy is kicking my ass rn lmao (kids do not tear your meniscus)

Okay by points. First of all - your English was perfect, don’t sweat it. English is my third language so Iunderstand where you come from, but you’re good!! Now:

you🤝me with this whole post. You were on my mind fr because I do share all of your thoughts.

Perhaps confession time: I liked Taylor! I ultimately understood why it wouldn’t work between Buck and her, but I liked her and I thought they were really cute. I was sad to see her go (although I’m glad by leaving we were able to eventually get Tommy)

Season 8 is the perfect illustration of something I’ve been thinking about 911 for a while - it is the land of missed potential. I’ve gone about it a few times so I won’t go over it again, but Season 8 is the perfect example of having lots they could do yet refusing to attempt to do it.

Your point on the break up is 100%. I would’ve actually understood and accepted it if it made sense in a larger scale, or if we had been introduced to it better. As it is, you do understand Tommy’s motives, but only if you look at the episode. Meaning: everyone acted so out of character during 806, it seemed like a different show. Therefore the break up (to me) does not make sense in a broader, more general view.

Your point on interviews: yeah I get it, sadly. The interviews left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth, because it did seem like Lou was the only one who truly cared for the couple and its fans. And for everyone who had been harassed for months for liking them, the nonchalant attitude of nearly everyone felt cruel and hurtful. It’s more than normal that many people felt like stop watching the show after it (me included). It does seem like OS has started to realize how big Bucktommy actually was and how liked they still are. So, progress? But it feels too little too late. Idk.

I also understand it does feel bad to see how they’ve ignored the bad treatment LFJr has received. Ofc we lack a lot of context (meaning: perhaps Lou himself asked them to ignore it, perhaps he did have a lot of support BTS), but the fact is that they let a group of deranged ‘fans’ bully and threaten an actor, and did nothing. No, instead it very much felt like those fans were being rewarded. It’s normal for us to not want to support that. I know I feel uncomfy with the idea of doing so.

We are lucky (infinitely lucky) that the Bucktommy fandom is filled with truly lovely and amazing people - people that are lovely to read, discuss with, and enjoy their art from!! If 911 doesn’t got my back, I know the BT fandom does ♥️

I hope you can continue to enjoy fandom life, anon! Ultimately they cannot take away what we enjoy!

My inbox is open for ranting, venting, giving opinions and confessions! And if you do not want them publish, please say so in your message 🥰 it’s cool with me, but I do need to know!

Take care <3

[avifaunaa]

i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ] [ pt.2. ]

Authors Note: Okay -- wow. The feedback was unexpectedly amazing! Thank you guys so very much for the reblogs, tags, likes, and comments. I do not know how many parts I have set for this -- it could end after P.3 or it could go on longer depending on how I go about it. I hope you enjoy this! As usual, please check the content warnings and keep yourselves safe.

More Trivia:

Women could be pharmacists in the fifties! However it was a newer job field. Other new job opportunities for women at the time included: engineering and real-estate.

TV dinners were the first of their kind created and released into the world in 1953 as a quick meal that could be heated up in an oven and reduced the dishes one had to do, and fit onto a "TV tray". Added free fact: The first actual type of dinner of this kind was a Thanksgiving style meal and it was a success!

Milk was ordered through, humorously, a "Milkman" that would come door to door like the newspaper and deliver fresh bottles of milk usually daily and, depending on the company / location, took the empty ones.

Phone lines did use to connect the way they did through an operator and had multiple people trying to connect sometimes. What a tedious job!

Reader grumbling about religious scripture being sent to her home is a reference to Jim Jones — who would start the People’s Temple one year later [ 1955 ] and end up committing one of the most notorious religious massacres in history while murdering a United States official. It was a terrible tragedy and it opened a gateway to other cults who preyed on people just like Jim Jones did.

PART ONE | PART TWO [ you are here ] | PART THREE

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Death has caught up with you but she has not come to retrieve your soul as the natural balance demands and has for the near seventy years you've evaded your fate. Rio appears to be seeking some form of stability and control through you, but you are going to make it decidedly very difficult.

Content Warnings: Dark -- use caution and keep yourselves safe, flashbacks that contain period-typical views on gender norms and sexuality, discussions of death and past abuse, Rio making R her housewife, kidnapping, misuse of magic [ Rio ], manipulation, obsessive behavior, really stupid murder attempts [ reader giving lmao ], Stockholm Syndrome beginning to take a tiny bit of effect, READER CRASHING OUT, non-con, face sitting, fingering, ruined orgasms [ all Rio!receiving ], magic strap [ r!receiving ], breeding and possible impregnation [ r!receiving ]

Word Count: TBA

2024

Rio was doing it again.

You did not have proof of it but you could just tell she was.

The stuffed duck at the foot of your bed was taunting you and you wanted to strangle the hell out of it if you weren't on strike right now, willing the fake witch to take her physical form and become visible to you.

After having been chained to her for a period of time you had come to know when she was close. It was the one part of the magic she worked that you had never revealed to her and she hadn't assumed to ask if you could sense her presence like she could yours depending on proximity.

The beady, blank eyes of your companion was the only way you knew she remembered your interests -- or ones you had at one point.

It was an old, much loved thing. Won at a fair back when you had first come to grow closer with her after the death of your husband. She insisted on getting you out of the house and event was only for a week and she bribed you with the promise of a Ferris wheel ride that you'd always dreamed of riding.

It was one of the items she had waiting for you upon setting you up in this bedroom and told you to. "stay put" while she went and did her Deathly duties which you assumed included brooding and prowling ally ways when she was bored.

The bedroom was designed to your tastes and it made your tongue curl into your throat. She had been watching you long enough to get to know you all over again -- how the years had reshaped you so she could adjust to them accordingly.

She had even taken the new cookbooks you'd purchased from your coffee table, price sticker partially picked and all, and placed them in a very noticable way on the stuffed bookshelf in the corner.

Your door creaked open. Your head moved from the stare-down with the duck to the direction but found only Rio's idea for a gift sitting in the doorway with sharp eyes.

She got you a fucking cat.

A large, fluffy thing with a long feathery tail and tufted ears. Dark brown with sharper stripes than most knives you used to cut your ingredients and so standoffish you wonder if she found him in a dumpster somewhere and took him screeching, spitting, and hissing.

Well, tough luck dude. She did that to you too.

She had deposited him onto your lap not even fifteen minutes after fucking you into a stupor and you threatening to kill her with a smug smile. "His name is Billy. I figured you'd need something to take care of while I'm out working."

Billy had hissed, affronted, at Rio and scrambled off of your lap to somehow squeeze under the sofa across from the one she had lead you upstairs to recover on.

"You got a cat," you said, eyes focusing briefly on the spot where the tabby had disappeared before returning to Rio's features.

"We got a cat," she corrected, flopping down onto the couch next to you. "I can't have you getting bored and destructive when I'm gone at work, can I?"

Rage coiled inside of you tighter than a bedspring. "I wouldn't be bored," you started with an attempt to keep your tone steady, "if you hadn't trapped me in a cage."

"Hardly a cage, angel," Rio rebutted, legs stretching and feet crossing across one another on the coffee table. "I gave you the entire house and backyard to work with -- pool and yard included. That's three floors and a basement. An upgrade since the last time we did this, no?"

Her eyes stared holes into the side of your head and you refused to meet her gaze. You knew what you'd find, anyway. You'd find that prodding and incessant glint that she always had when she spoke to you in that fucking tone.

Your rage could only be filtered into one thing at a time and you decided that fighting a battle you couldn't win right now would only succeed in humiliating you further. So you decided to focus your melting attitude onto something you could absolutely control.

"Get your feet," you replied, teeth gritting, "off the fucking table."

That grin became feral in the corner of your eyes but she did as you bid and uncrossed her feet and spread her legs lazily across the floor instead. "Yes, ma'am."

"We do not have things to care for a cat."

She tilted her head at you. "Don't we?"

You blinked and opened your mouth to argue with her, but in an instant you were quickly set quiet. A large cat tree with multiple tiers sat in the floor to ceiling windows of the entry way not far off, cat toys and beds seemed to appear in the house later, too.

Not to mention the random cat food you found in the cabinet when you went to fix something later that night to get away from her.

But now Rio had bid you adieu with a peck to your cheek and a shit-eating grin.

You nearly smacked her and had your fingers flexing as if debating the outcome and if the repercussions would be worth it. Rio laughed and puffed away in an air of smoke before you could so much as lift your hand.

You and Billy now had an alliance of sorts. He had allowed you to put a collar with a cute bowtie and a bell on it so you could hear him prattling about -- only after you fed him a numerous amount of treats.

He also despised Rio and swatted at her if she came near if he was cuddled up to you. It was fun watching Rio ride out the consequences to her actions and she often threatened to make a new hood from his coat or use his teeth in a potion, or went the most mature route and hissed back at him.

But still -- you appreciated his company even if he often times only graced you with it fifty percent of the time.

"What do you want?" you finally asked the feline, who had taken your silence as an invitation to skulk into the room and rub himself across the furniture.

Letting him do whatever it is cats do, you return your attention to the duck and curl your fingers into the bedspread beneath you as the memories start to take over.

1954

Rio had been your rock for the last six months in which she took you in. For the first two you were in a numbed state of shock that barely had you moving about out of bed if Rio hadn't encouraged it.

Perhaps she was right in how she had confronted you so boldly that night you appeared on her doorstep. There was no grief in your heart for your husband as you planned his funeral with the help of your mother and father, sister in tow.

No grief for what "could have been" should he have not been in the accident that took his life when you bleakly watched from a distance as funeral goers left and four men began to lower the cheap casket into the grave.

There was not a drop of regret in you as you approached and dropped a green rose from Rio's gardens into the grave instead of dirt as your past and marriage was buried all in one.

You sold the house like Rio suggested. It was empty without his complaining and too clean when there was no bloody noses to clean up. No beer to restock or work clothes for the next day to be pressed and set out early for him.

Instead you handled well-kept skirts and fine women's wear without being asked.

Rio had found you one day after returning home from her work -- a pharmacy technician, according to her.

"I handle medications that doctors prescribe for people," she told you when asked. "Make sure they get the right dose and that the paperwork is handled. Call doctor's offices if needed and consult with the patient."

You had given her a look that she had memorized for the rest of her life. One of shock, awe, and absolute wonder. "You're able to do that? Isn't that a man's job?"

Rio smiled at you, leaning into the doorway. "This world is starting to become less theirs and more ours, angel. Society cannot run on the basis of the male gender alone and many areas of the workforce are recognizing that."

You had accepted her answer as truth.

She had three white medical jackets in which her name was stitched onto them provided by the drug store in town for her that you made sure to wash by themselves and iron before she went to work each morning.

She would often watch you do laundry -- hers or yours, after you moved in -- even if you were simply ironing in front of the television in the living room while she sipped on a bear in her suspenders and untucked white button-up, eyes focused on you rather than what the current state of the country was.

You had also changed the state of her eating habits in the time you'd been there, as well. You were horrified with what you found in her refrigerator and pantry.

Which was nothing pretty much.

The first night you had stayed over at her home you had also tried to cook. Mostly to have an excuse not to return to that dark, empty house just some stretches away, but also to thank Rio for creating a plan to ensure your comfort would remain.

Only to find she had little in terms of food. She had five TV Dinners stacked haphazardly and you cringed backward. Those were perhaps only good for Saturdays when one could sit in front of the television and enjoy their shows. The thought of Rio eating one every night left you nauseous.

You spotted an empty milk glass and snatched it out to set on the porch to be grabbed and replaced in the morning with fresh milk.

You stomped to the phone dangling on the wall and waited to be connected to the operator on the other line.

"Hello, number please?" the bored drawl asked.

You gave the older woman the number Rio provided and the answering clearing of a throat filled your ears. You heard a few flicks. "Thank you, please wait while we connect you."

"Sure." You held the phone to your ear and waited until the ringing started again.

"Westview Pharmacy."

"Rio," you greeted, wrapping a finger around the curly cord. Your heart paced in your chest at the sound of her voice.

"Hello, angel," she responded back, sounding pleasantly surprised. "What can I do for you on this fine day?"

"You have a sad excuse for a kitchen," you told her plainly, "and had you not taken the car I surely would have myself to go to the supermarket."

"I left some food for you to heat up, angel," she told you, confusion filtering through the line.

You huffed. "That is not -- I wish to cook, Rio. I may be a terrible baker but I am quite good at cooking otherwise and your lackluster pantry is ensuring I cannot do so."

There was a brief silence on the other end and for a moment you worried you'd overstepped, but then Rio let out a breathy chuckle. "Okay, okay. I apologize for any offense my kitchen and I caused."

You flushed. "I should hope so," you grumbled back, "I simply cannot understand how you lived this long. Did you not cook for your husband ever?"

"We weren't homebodies before he was drafted, no," Rio told you. You heard a rattle and assumed she was filling a prescription as she spoke with you. "He had a heart for eating out in diners and picnicking at the park. Every day was a new surprise."

"I see." You bit your lip and tapped the tiled floor with your flats. You regret bringing it up at all. "Well -- I only called to ask if you could run by the store on your way home and grab some essentials. Just enough for me to cook with until I can take the car."

"Of course I can," the brunette agreed instantly without thought. "And on that topic just start making a list of things you think we need so that way the next time we do go out we can grab it."

"I can do that."

"Good girl," the woman said. "Now, thank you for calling and asking me for something you needed. I do have to get back to work though. I will see you tonight?"

"Of course," you agreed, heart fluttering in your chest at the image of her walking into the doorway with that soft grin, "Sorry for keeping you."

"Never apologize, angel." With that, the line disconnected and left a low buzzing tone to tell you the line was dead. You hung up the phone and smiled wistfully to yourself.

It had been the first of many nights wherein you cooked for her and did her laundry and cleaned her house. She never missed a minute of telling you that she was grateful, or pointing out how well the dynamic seemed to be working out damn the gossip you feared would crop up.

Things changed drastically six months in as autumn began taking over Westview in a chokehold with no release.

The leaves were a falling and leaving the ground covered in the dark orange and yellow hues that you loved so and a chill began to sweep and take over the summer heat.

You eyed the calendar up on the wall in the kitchen and noted that Rio seemed to be gone more often in October, November, and December.

You had wanted to ask why but your engrained sense of minding your business and leaving it be kept your tongue stabled to the roof of your mouth for the most part.

"You're burning holes into the wall, sweetheart," Rio called from the kitchen table. She was sitting neatly in the chair reading the morning paper, coffee in front of her as she waited patiently for breakfast.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, returning to the stove and slipping the skillet before the bacon could blacken the bacon completely. The two strips fell onto the plate next to the eggs and you carefully set the skillet back down.

Your plate was empty on the counter next to the stove. Rio had few rules but one of them was that you made yourself a meal first unless you had time to share one together, and then make hers while you ate.

It was odd and very unusual for what was normally expected from most "housewives" in this case, but she was insistent and you were hardly one to deny Rio after she's taken you in and practically cared for you in place of you having to work.

You didn’t protest to her few rules — you obeyed them willingly and dutifully. In turn she ensured you had her company and you were comfortable.

Rio was at work one afternoon before a fair you had agreed to attend together and your mother had come to take you to lunch at a hot new diner.

She was updating you on your sister and her children, and the new car the family had obtained. Though eventually she asked when you’d find yourself a way out of Rio’s home— an opportunity to do something new and get out of the town where it all occurred.

You had simply looked at her questioningly, and asked, “Why would I ever want to leave? Miss Vidal has become my best friend and a dear comfort to me. She knows what I go through.”

Your mother’s lips pursed and her eyes crinkled around the edges in a way that was all too familiar. Like she knew something you didn’t. “Sweetheart, that’s why I wanted to sit you down really. See your father and I have been communicating with the sheriff. You remember Richard Howards right? You were in the same class in grade school.”

A town as small as Westview hardly awarded privacy and the idea of being strangers to others. So you simply said, “Of course.”

Your mother nodded and fiddled with her pearl necklace as she spoke, “After the funeral we went down to settle the business of your husband’s work details. We wanted it done through the sheriff’s office just in case they tried to cause problems for you.”

“Why would they do that?” you wondered as you sipped your coffee and looked out the window toward the drug store Rio was contained in.

Your mother frowned deeply. “Have you not been looking through your mail? I suppose most of it must be trash — a lot of it is advertisements and magazine samples these days — but Eastview Grain Milling wanted to deny wrongdoing. They were going to try and drag his widow — you — through the mud in the process.”

Your eyes flashed back to her, eyebrows shot up high. “Under what grounds? I’ve no money and he certainly didn’t have much after his paychecks. He died in their factory.”

Your mother nodded slowly. “Precisely the issue, isn’t it?”

“Is it taken care of?” you asked hesitantly.

“We handled it. Mostly your father — he’s, well, you know how he is.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Your mother eyed you. “When did you become so uninterested in what happens to you, darling? You used to call your father if you got religious scripture —“

“Shouldn’t it be wrong to send that to someone’s home instead of finding other creative ways to advertise? Who wants to join an indescribable society without merit and has no name?”

“My point,” she interrupted before you could get riled up, “is that you haven’t been . . . You. Not for a while.”

“Well, my husband died.”

Your mother gasped your name out, slamming her cup on the table in shock. You stared back at her with a weak shrug. “It’s true. I’m trying to . . . I don’t know, Mother. Rekindle my desire to live?”

“Then go to the doctor!” she cried, and you paused to note the look of desperation in her gaze, “Come home to your father and I while you recover — you know we’d take care of you. But please, sweetheart, something isn’t right about this woman.”

“You don’t even know her,” you snapped. Then you breathed out, startled at your own tone. You gathered yourself, your thoughts, and said, “She’s my only friend. My neighbors aren’t kindly women, Mother.”

“Have you asked her anything of value?” she demands. “How she came to be widowed? What year she got married? How they met?”

“Why are you so suspicious of her? Do you think she’s a commie? I assure you, Mother,” you bit out, “after the death of her husband she’s never been more drawn to this countries’ ideals.”

“No.” Exasperated, the woman who looked so much like yourself leaned back into the shiny leather booths and rubbed her temple. “Mister Howards did a check on Miss Vidal’s records.”

“Mother, you didn’t.”

“She was never married,” she blurted once again, cutting you off from whatever it is you began to say.

You sat in frozen silence, shock more than anything coating you like a wet blanket. “W-what?”

“Rio Vidal has a completely blank canvas, sweetheart,” your mother told you, eyes softening when she took in your expression, “and I’m afraid that means that no records indicate she was ever married, much less to a man in the service.”

2024

You flipped the page of the current cookbook and steadied it on the stand, dropping a few chives into the soup you were prepping.

You almost destroyed the kitchen in a fury when you saw perfectly tailored apron that you always eyed in the store hanging on the hook near the back door.

You settled for dumping out Rio’s beers instead and getting to work. She allotted you as much time in the kitchen as you requested — but the knives you used were somehow spelled to never turn against her no matter how hard you tried. They would be come heavy in your hands and eventually disappear when you grew defeated.

You had an entirely different plan for her instead of stabbing her to death. Less messy and a lot more manageable in terms of sneaking it into dinner.

You didn’t know if you could kill Death — but you sure as shit would try. She’s kept you cooped up for no less than three weeks so far and any and all attempts were met with mockery and depending on her mood, you facedown and fucked into oblivion.

You hated it.

Fuck.

You emptied your brain for now to keep your attention focused on making this dinner as heavily flavored as possible. You tipped in a little wine for extra flavor, even, and took a giant gulp from the bottle yourself.

You set the table and poured wine for both of you. Your hands shook despite yourself and your body was stiff. You folded napkins just as perfectly as your mother had taught you and set the silverware in order.

You served each bowl a helping of the soup.

At the last second before you knew she would be walking through the door, you opened the box of rat poison and dumped all of the contents in and stirred carefully and hoped there was one thing that could defeat Death.

Your desperation — it was making you sloppy. Perhaps if you had waited it out longer and thought about it you would have decided that fucking rat poison wouldn’t work on her.

But it didn’t cross you — not when you could feel the subtle shift of the invisible chain around your throat that dug in anytime you inched too close to the property line. Not when you tried to make a new design for the rooms and ended up in bed for hours for thinking you could try to enjoy this life again.

Never. Again.

She came in through the garage door with a flourish. For whatever reason you couldn’t grasp, she wore suits when she left and came home as though she were going to a normal nine to five job instead of reaping souls for her jars of whatever the fuck she did with them.

She strides through the house, calling your name and finding you waiting at the table with a fake smile plastered to your face and your chin resting on your palm as you greeted her.

“What a sight,” she drew out as she took her jacket off and slung it over her chair before rounding the table, “and what a beautiful dinner, too,” she added, finger lifting your chin. You let her guide you into a soft kiss, playing your role until you could unleash yourself entirely.

“Mm,” you said, then spread a hand out. “I made something new. It may not be up to my normal standards, considering.”

Rio eyed you curiously as she undid her sleeve cuffs and sat down across from you. Steam was still rising from the bowl and she stretched her arms out to allow her sleeves to ride up.

“I am sure that whatever you’ve made will be as delicious as the things you’ve made ten times before.” She went for the glass of wine first, so you followed in suit.

For once you started to feel like the lioness stalking her prey rather than the prey itself. You knew for sure that Rio could sense your observant gaze — how you kept attention to her over the rim of your wine glass and as you twirled and sipped at your soup.

It sparked curiosity and perhaps even a little suspicion from her end of the enchantment she had on you. Good. It was your turn to play a game with rules she couldn’t possibly follow.

“What did you do today?” she asked, setting the glass down and going to grab the spoon laid pointedly out instead. Dipped into soup, lifted to a mouth.

You smiled as she sipped it, and said casually, “Oh I didn’t get up to much. The house is quiet even with Billy around to keep company. Too big. I pulled some weeds from the garden and harvested some vegetables.”

“Did you now.” Dark swirls of magic in her eyes — an illusion to keep you from reading her. You hated that she used it so often.

“Mm.” You ran your finger around and around the rim of your wine glass. “I think a dog would be nice too. More company and would be enough to keep me busy.”

“A dog,” Rio echoed as she ingested a second sip of soup. “I thought you hated dogs.”

“Until I learned they hated you. Now I think one would be rather nice.”

Eyes locked across the table, and a small smile formed. “My angel wants a dog. As if it would protect you from me.”

Silence filled the room as you prepared for a standoff. Something about her demeanor had grown darker and more pronounced than when she stepped through the door — and if Rio knew you a hundred ways you knew her at least ninety-nine.

She knew.

She finished the entire bowl and let the spoon fall with a clang into it, leaning back into her chair to finish her wine. “Angel, what a delicious meal. I was worried I would never get to taste your cooking again. It’s one of the ways I can understand how you’re feeling without invading you with my. . . Abilities. Your cooking is your tell.”

You held your glass loosely in hand, allowing your features to come across as lazy and uninterested despite feeling as though a bloody battle were about to ensue. You lay your chin on the top of the back of your hand holding the glass.

“Oh?” you say, pretending curious reactions to keep her talking. She would be gone by now if the poison had worked, so you could only hope she couldn’t have tasted it. “What did this meal tell you about me tonight, then?”

Rio takes one of her index fingers and runs it along the inside of the bowl until it comes back with remains. She sticks it onto her tongue and leans forward as if to tell you a secret.

“It means, angel, that tonight you gambled with Death and you were feeling bold and tried something new and out of your usual style. So fucking bold that you thought a mortal poison — a weak one at that — would destroy me.” Something deadly and calm crossed her face, but the smile was something you’ve only seen a few times on her, “I am no rat, angel. All you’ve done tonight is play a little game I indulged in.”

Blood filled your ears. You could hear your heartbeat so fucking loud and you were drowning in the thickness of it.

Then pain pulled you out of it as quickly as it forced you in. You jumped, turning and realizing you’d broken your glass. Wine mixed with blood as shards of glass struck deep into your skin.

The pain didn’t do much to douse the fire that was your rage, your upset, your years of distress.

It lit them all up like gasoline on a volatile fire. You slammed your bloody fist onto the table and shoved it into Rio, who grunted in surprise as her hands flew up to catch it before it rammed into her abdomen.

“I am not your plaything for you to amuse yourself with when you’re bored and can’t find Agatha to annoy,” you spat, shoving the chair with your foot and causing the table to inch deeper into her palms. “I will find a way to destroy you — collar or not.”

Something you said was wrong, or perhaps the way you said it. One moment she was shocked and even bemused at your explosion and next she shoved the table back into your direction. You had to leap out of the way with the speed in which she had kicked it.

Glass and silverware went flying as the table slammed into the entryway and wall, shattering into broken pieces. A piece from one of the bowls snagged your cheek but the pain was minuscule and you grabbed the empty pot from the sink and threw it at her.

“You’re fucking pathetic, sweetheart.” Rio whipped her hand out and caught the pot with a swirl of dark green. She twisted her fingers and you watched in despair as the object was crumbled like a ball of paper and tossed out the window behind you.

You ducked for cover and cursed viciously as she crunched through broken plate ware and kicked aside table-legs for good measure in case you got any ideas.

She knelt down before you and wrapped her hand around the back of your neck tenderly, caressing the spot where her sigil hummed the loudest when she was near.

"You are my only focus now," she told you calmly, then grinned as though sharing a joke, "As long as we don't count the soul-reaping I do. But that's not really something I can simply give up, I'm afraid. I will admit I was impressed by your sad attempt at freeing yourself from me that I rewarded you with . . . enclosed freedom. I decided to decrease the size of your enclosure, really, is all I did. You never left me."

You bared your teeth at her in a meek attempt at having some sort of shield from her mocking. Blood dribbled into your mouth, between your teeth, and soaked into your tongue.

"I will never be complicit to this again," you spat at her. You hoped the droplets wouldn't wash out of her pants. She ignored the staining as though it were a common occurrence. "You can't make me happy, Rio. All of this -- from the day we met -- has been built on a lie that has crumbled around you. You aren't lovable."

The pressure suddenly eased as Rio seemed to process what you said to her. You had hoped to hit a weak spot and get her angry enough to back off, but her next response was the exact opposite.

"If I cannot make you love me," she whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your ear, then your jaw, "then I will give you a part of me that you have absolutely no choice but to love. Much better than a dog."

Dread slapped you across the face as Rio pulled back and snapped her fingers.

You were out before you could process her statement entirely.

You awoke in the bedroom under the cool sheets. You had a distinct throbbing in your head that reminded you of drinking too much or pulling an all-nighter during the nineties when you went to college for the first time.

You sat up slowly to prevent the increase of pain and crossed your arms when the sheets fell. You were naked -- entirely fucking naked -- and there was no evidence of any indication of Rio being around while you were out.

You trembled when you went over the events of the night. The alarm clock said it was five in the morning -- dinner had been at six. you slept for eleven hours straight . . . or were kept in a controlled state of unconsciousness by Rio until she could decide what to do with you.

As if summoned by your loud thinking, the door opened and in came Death herself. She looked rather stern as if you had started a stupid, petty fight and were at fault for it.

You wanted to wring her neck.

She took your silence in, the hostile expression, and swaggered on over to the bed like it was an invitation rather than a warning. She was wearing a silk robe and on closer inspection you noted her wet hair was in a bun.

"Did you get the tantrum out of you?" she asked casually, leaning over to turn on the bedside table lamp.

You curled your lip at her like a tethered animal that's been cornered and whipped.

"Because, you see," she continued, undoing the belt of her robe and letting it slide off her shoulders to reveal nothing but her prone form underneath, "I've decided that despite your outburst to give you a gift."

"I do not want," you breathed, finding leverage and support in the sheets keeping you covered, rage now leaking into your every word, "any gift you think to offer me. I don't want it. Fuck off."

Rio sat down next to you with a pout as she revealed a green rose in perfect beauty to you. "From my own personal gardens. It grew and died for you, my love."

The phantom sting from your thumb where one of her roses had cut you when you first saw one of those damned things in years made you fist the mattress underneath the comforter and sheets covering you.

"I am tired of things dying for me."

And suddenly a palm was on your forehead, shoving it down onto the soft, feather-stuffed pillows as Rio flung a leg over your waist and leaned over you. "Well, isn't that just too bad?" she murmured. "I don't get your love, and you don't get to stop those that lose their lives in your place. A pity all around."

You tried to ignore her, dragging your eyes upward to the ceiling instead as tears threatened to rise. You were so fucking tired -- of her, of living like this, of fighting.

"You're going to make me feel good in return for that stunt you pulled during dinner," Rio told you in a matter-of-fact tone, not minding you not keeping focus on her as she ripped the protection off your body and allowed the cold to sweep over your skin. "And after, I'm going to give you something I've only ever given to one other person."

You did not follow the line of discussion, the branching topic she wiggled in front of you like meat on a string. You told her you did not want it because her gifts always came with unspoken implications.

She moved suddenly and quickly, her body moving upward until she was hovering over your upturned face and she reached a hand down to run fingers through your hair. "Remember to breath, angel," she purred and then lowered herself onto you. Then she tugged when she got no initial reaction, “You’re gonna touch me, sweetheart. Go on. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

Even as your tongue began to lick upward on instinct, you debated with yourself on biting her. Hard.

She’d probably only be mildly irritated at most and take it as a challenge rather than an attempt to get her off of you.

Your hands shakily reached up instead and with one hand you dug fingers mercilessly into the meat of her hip while a second hand scrunched between you two so you could thrust two fingers upward at the same time as your tongue entered her.

Rio released a moan that was breathy and sweet in essence as her thighs took form around either side of your head. You felt the headboard move and figured she was grabbing onto it with her other hand.

“Fuck — you still remember what I need, don’t you, angel? Good girls always remember even if they don’t want to,” she whispered in unsteady gasps as you found a rhythm. She kept herself from moving at first, instead using built up energy to dig nails into your scalp as your fingers thrusted upward while your tongue created tight friction.

Everything about her made you ache — down to the familiar smell of her and the way she twitched when you thrust slowly in the circular motion that she liked.

She was going back and forth from offering praise to you to being unable to form coherent words for some seconds when you let your teeth graze her clit every so often. Never enough for her to come.

“You’re being a tease,” she told you obviously, grip tightening with warning. However the grip faltered ever so slightly when you found the spongy tissue inside of her and added pressure. She fell into a low gasp and a knock against the headboard made you guess she had dropped her head on it.

“Fuck — right there. Yes, angel, keep going.”

You obeyed for a brief period in order to draw her closer to the edge. She was fiercely grinding her pussy down against your face now as she kept herself balanced.

Her thighs were beginning to twitch around your head and she was getting slicker by the moment. She was entirely vulnerable above you but you now knew not to make the mistake and think she didn’t have some sort of defense ready if you did something really stupid.

Just when you knew she would tip over is when you pull away, allowing your fingers to brush her g-spot one last time and sending her careening over that sharp edge. She let out a choked moan, surprised, as you abruptly removed all stimulation minus the forceful grinding she was giving you.

She panted above you but she didn’t sound satisfied like she usually does when she has an orgasm. She sounded wrung out, like reaching something with no payout.

“You have some goddamn balls,” Rio snarled, slipping away from your face and snatching it in her palm despite the wetness covering it. “You ruin my orgasm and think it’ll go any good for you?”

You stare her down with unwavering contempt. “You still came, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I’m loving this new part of you. The vile rage that seeps from your pores every second you’re around me,” she sneers as she wipes a trail of her slick from around your chin and shoves the appendage in your mouth.

You bite her finger but she does not flinch, does not blink. She only grins at you. “Oh yes, you wild little thing of mine. I am going to enjoy what I am going to do next. It will dampen that fire in your belly — or perhaps it will enrage you further. I cannot wait to see.”

You were grabbed so roughly you hardly at time to fight back. Arms and legs were rearranged and your face was shoved facedown into the pillows this time as fingers drifted gingerly down your spine.

“So pretty,” your captor mused, as if considering a piece of art in a museum. They trailed down even further until they brushed against the backs of your legs and angled them up so your knees and ass rose into the air. “Yes, angel, I’m going to want you to stay like this. Be my muse.”

“I will destroy your entire being,” you vowed as the magical directive took effect and your muscles relaxed without your consent. The weight of the bed lifted as Rio removed herself and murmured something under her breath.

“While you work on that, I think I’ll work on something else more productive,” she mused as she rejoined you a few moments later with her pelvis resting against the very bottom of your ass.

“You say a lot of words but speak such bullshit,” you snarled back, unable to move your hips an inch despite your attempts.

Rio laughed. “Fuck, I love you so much. Which is going to make this all the more fun.” And then you felt it sliding between the crevice where your cunt was.

“Absolutely not,” you jerked your upper body forward in desperation with no prevail, you were unable to get away. To make it worse she placed what she believed to be soothing hand on your now clammy back. “Rio — Rio, stop.”

She ignored you and tested you for wetness, and you were embarrassed at what she found when she sought it out. She leaned her body over your upturned hips and whispered, “So wet and yet you claim you want me to stop?”

“That’s how consent works, Rio,” you panted, jerking your shoulder but gaining no traction as she moved just out of reach in time. “I say stop and you stop.”

“I’m afraid that’s not in our contract, my love,” she sighed as she fingered the area around your neck and somehow managed to pull tight. Your airflow was restricted and you gasped out for air. “I own you entirely and have for a very long time. I decided you were mine the second I was called to take you away. I’m gladly taking others instead — and you’re granted a lifelong advantage on top of that. It’s time we add to it — don’t you think? Keep that destructive, wandering, little brain of yours busy will do wonders so I don’t have to dumb you down with my magic.”

She released you and your head fell back down as you gasped and inhaled for breath, fingers flexing into the sheets as dizziness swirled around you.

The tears started then. Rio crooned as she kissed gently down your back and entered you with an ease of a lover who actually cared would.

“Oh, angel, there is no need for those,” she murmured as she sucked bruises where each kiss was left. “Tears are a waste of your energy when considering why you’re crying.”

“Fuck you,” you sniffled, the emotions overwhelming you too much and your brain filled with an overload of pleasure chemicals to say much else.

“I’m so trying,” she promises followed by a very deep thrust. “Do you know what I’m doing, love? Why I chose to wear the cock?”

You didn’t answer her, too wrapped up in your own feelings to play her game and amuse her as she fucked you like her life depended on it.

“It’s because,” she continues like she was discussing the weather with you, “I’m going to breed you. I’ve put some thought into it — you’d be impressed how much time I spent thinking instead of acting on innate desires.”

Your body shuddered when the ridges of her specially designed cock rubbed your walls, followed by one of her arms reaching around so she could cup your breasts. “You never liked being bored, did you?” she grunted as she found a better angle and upped her speed.

You let out a sob-filled moan and suddenly you could move your hips again — and the first thing you found yourself doing was thrusting them back in time to meet her.

“Good girl,” she whispered, kisses lining your jaw, down your neck as she squeezed your breast and kept you in a constant state of physical overstimulation and unable to clearly think. “You’re doing so fucking good despite how fucking difficult you’ve been lately. That’s okay — we’re going to fix that aren’t we?”

Suddenly you were drawn upwards until you sat on her thighs, with her chest pressed against your back as she rolled her hips as deep as they would go and held you up with the arm holding your tits.

“I’m going to make sure you stay, angel. I’ve lost — I’ve lost too much already.” Through the fucked out haze you thought you detected despair and need within the tone she used — but she didn’t allow you long to process it as her other hand reached down and started rubbing your clit with harsh beats that met her thrusts.

“I’m going to — I’m going to give us a better life, okay?” she whispered just as the build up continued to grow with no possible escape in sight.

You gave in — at least for this — and closed your eyes and leaned your head back against her shoulder as she kept her pace violent and unyielding, seeming to have a goal to achieve.

It didn’t take much longer — not for you or Rio. Both of you were thrown into orgasms that had you rocking forward back down into the bed, your groan and gasps eroding away at any belief she would ever let you go.

A tingle that you came to associate with her use of magic started rippling across your skin like electricity until Rio stopped moving inside of you, growing briefly still.

You were shaking and trembling, biting your tongue so hard that blood filled your mouth as you contained your devastated cries and curled your legs into you.

Rio brushed some hair away from your neck and rubbed at your back in an effort to comfort you. Perhaps she thought you were overwhelmed in the way she was — you weren’t entirely sure ever what Rio thought most days.

“It’s going to be okay,” she tried to soothe, her touch like burning oil as you tried to flinch away from her. “Angel? I promise. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be a family. I am Death. Nothing will take us away.”

But who was Death really when she was able to create life? The very thing Rio had once claimed was against her rules.

Rio and Reader will return in Part Three.

Taglist [ holy shit I remembered ]: @girlsgotissues ( it won’t let me tag u im so sorry )

PART THREE

[uncannydevotion]

So I was going through this account and your old account (loved you and your writing since foreverr), and I kind of saw how Liu/Sully are characterized as overprotective (I don’t know if that’s the proper term or if I’m even reading the character right lmao), but like…lowkey what would happen if theres a relationship and they become too suffocating and the s/o tries to break it off? Would they crash out? 😭 (in a possible yandere way?)

squeezing you affectionately i wasnt gonna write today i really wasnt but but but this got sent in and i just. here. here. take this.

warnings: written in one sitting and not proofread, yandere content, unhealthy relationships, dependency, stalking, overprotective behavior, behavior that can be considered obsessive, sully points a gun at you im sorry, implied kidnapping.

wc: 1.4k words.

Liu wasn't a bad guy.

You knew this intimately. Liu was far from a horrible guy. From the moment you met him, he was nothing but kind and understanding. He has his flaws, sure, but so does every other person. And those flaws never took away from how... nice he was.

It was easy falling in love with him, really. He never tried forcing anything on you, he always listened, he remembered everything you told him, even things that most people would consider minor. Honestly, you were shocked to learn that he wasn't already dating someone.

And Sully... well, he's not as nice as Liu.

It took you time to get used to him when he introduced himself to you. Unlike Liu, Sully didn't seem to really... care about people. He was selfish, and was the type to just do things without thinking much about how it could harm others. He never actively tried hurting others, but he never cared if he did either.

So when you found yourself falling in love with Sully as well, it left you feeling a bit... guilty, to be honest. Not only because Sully was... well... Sully, but also because you were already in love with Liu, so isn't it weird being in love with someone else too? But it didn't feel wrong loving them both.

To be honest, when you did start dating them, nothing changed. Liu was as kind as ever, if not a bit more openly affectionate, and Sully was still pretty mean at times, but he was less mean when you were around so... you'll take what you can get.

But it was perfect. You, and your two boyfriends in one body.

When Liu started becoming protective, you hadn't thought much of it. He'd freak out a bit over some small injuries you'd get. Small burns when you'd cook, the occasional time you'd trip over yourself and hit the ground. It was cute, honestly.

You understood that due to his past, he was deeply terrified of losing people. It's a fear of his that you tried your best to help him through, and it wasn't one that you ever thought could get out of hand.

Sure, Sully wouldn't sometimes stare at you for a few moments too long before sighing and saying something like, 'We should just lock you up.' but... he's always had a weird sense of humor, so you never let it get to you.

But... the longer you dated them, the more... suffocating they'd started to become. With Liu, if you were out and didn't update him on your wellbeing every few hours, he'd call you until you answered. He used to not stay the night all that often, but now he insists on staying with you every night, to ensure your safety.

If you went out with friends, he'd basically interrogate you about them. Who are they? Where do they work? How did you meet? Would you trust them to keep you safe? How do you know you can trust them?

And Sully wasn't any better. He would basically stalk you whenever you went out, and he wasn't shy about it either. Whenever you'd try talking to him about it, he'd just shrug and say something along the lines of, 'I'm just making sure you don't die.'

You're fairly certain he's even gone through your phone a few times, but you never brought it up because you didn't want to accuse him, either of them, of something if they didn't do it.

It hurt you to even have this conversation with them, but enough was enough.

"We should break up."

The words sounded wrong, but you refused to swallow them. Your heart was racing and you felt sick but you knew this was for the best. They were far too protective, and Liu seemed unhealthily dependent on you at times. Like he'd simply stop functioning if you disappeared. He needed help, help that you can't give him.

There's an expression of confusion, followed quickly by something akin to anguish when he registers your words. Liu seemed to struggle to speak for a moment, lips opening and closing for a few moments before he finally manages a small, "Why?"

And you explained it to him. You told him about how his protective behavior was starting to feel suffocating, how your friends were starting to distance themselves from you because he (of which you can only assume to be Sully) always glares at them whenever they're around, how your privacy felt nonexistent most days with them around.

It almost seemed as if he was going to accept that this was happening, but then there was a shift. His expression smoothed out for a moment before he looked at you like you were the crazy one here.

"No."

And it didn't take a genius for you to realize you were speaking with Sully now, from the way he seemed completely apathetic to your concerns.

"No? You can't just say no to someone breaking up with you, that's not how this works."

But your words didn't seem to reach him. That, or he was just choosing to ignore him because he just sweetly smiles in such a way that it makes your blood run cold, "I said no, angel." And his usual affectionate name for you sounding mocking rather than loving, something that put you on edge.

In the time that you've known Sully, you've never felt in danger around him. He went out of his way to make you feel comfortable, honestly, but now... now, you're reminded that this man wouldn't hesitate to kill another. What's stopping him from killing you?

"...You should leave. Now, please."

But Sully didn't move. He just stared, and it felt like he was looking right into your very soul, and it made you feel really sick.

"Fine, if you aren't going to leave, then I will," You huff, but you couldn't even stand up before he was pushing you back down on the couch, practically straddling you, and you could feel cool metal pressing against your forehead.

He... he just pulled a fucking gun on you. A mixture of shock and betrayal outweighs any fear you felt as you look up at Sully, half expecting him to just shoot you.

But he'd never do that, no.

Sully would never hurt you. Could never hurt you. He just needs you to behave, that's all.

"Don't look so distraught," He coos, his free hand coming up to lovingly cup your cheek and wipe away tears you hadn't realized were falling, "You know I can't let you leave. Liu needs you," He pauses, a look of consideration before he softly admits, "I need you."

The admission would've been romantic. He'd never really verbally expressed his love for you before, but now it just... it makes you feel wrong.

"We can just consider this a lover's quarrel, yeah? Make up and move on,"

It didn't seem like Sully had any plans on listening to a single word from your mouth unless it's something he wanted to hear, but you shake your head nonetheless, "I don't want to 'make up and move on'. You're aiming a fucking gun at me for crying out loud! How can I possibly move on from that?!"

And he rolls his eyes at your words, as if you were being dramatic over something you had every right to be angry about. It almost seemed as if he wanted to say something, but his gaze unfocused, and when he blinked, that annoyance was gone.

Instead, he looked mortified, lowering the gun against your head.

And for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope. If you can't convince Sully to let you leave, then surely you can convince Liu, right?

But he didn't pull the gun away. He wasn't aiming it at you, but it was there, and that told you everything you needed to know. Liu wasn't going to let you leave either.

"I'm sorry," He whispers over and over again, and there's tears in his eyes as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. As if forcing you to stay with him was painful to him.

And maybe it was, but...

This world is simply far too dangerous. How is he supposed to keep you safe when you want to go out all the time? It's... it's for the best, he thinks, to take you away. Somewhere where no one can find you, that way you'll be safe. The thought makes Liu sick, guilt eating at him, but... nothing can take you from him.

He and Sully will keep you safe, always. Even if you hate them for it.

[frogs-stealing-sleep]

Gods so I love this ship so much I love these goobers

Red/Fell belongs to Fella/Vic

Blue/Swap belongs to Popcornpr1nce/The UTMV Fandom

Headcanons and my interpretation of CherryBerry below

CW some questions can be ready as semi suggestive or just are straight up suggestive

(asks about my interpretation of CherryBerry are also open)

Also yes I did skip some and add other questions based on my own comfortably<3

Love languages to give?

Fell- Quality time

Swap- Acts of Service

Love languages to receive?

Fell- Physical affction

Swap- Words of affirmation

Who is the most affectionate?

In public? Swap

In private? They're both pretty affectionate

Most common argument?

Cleaning for sure keeping their shared space tidy. They have different definitions of what 'clean' means. (Different standards for clean)

Who apologizes first?

Fell

Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?

Probably play some silly video games (putting the mine craft beds together) or they like watching bad movies.

Who drives and who rides shotgun?

Swap drives, Fell isn't allowed to drive often anymore

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Swap actually carries Fell a decent amount with him being a "lazy bones"

Though Fell can carry his own weight (and Swap's) when shit hits the fan (though he does have less stamina overall)

Nicknames?

For Fell: Red, Cherry, Goldie, Spike, Rose bush

For Swap: Blue, Blueberry, Berry, Toots, Muffin

Who proposes?

Swap

Who sings along with the radio?

If they're driving Fell will because Swap is too focused on the road

If they are in public Swap will

If they are alone it depends.

Swap will when cleaning, doing the dishes, or working.

Fell will to tease, when cooking/baking, or when reading he'll hum.

Who worries most?

Fell

Who always wants to take selfies with the other?

Swap, he loves to keep pictures for memories sake as well as probably has a picture book.

Who likes to playfully tease the other?

Fell

Who has the weirdest taste in their music?

Fell. I think he'll listen to any and everything

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Swap

Favorite date place?

The movies or a planetarium

Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?

Fell probably, something something scars

Who tops?

Gay, but depends :)

Who initiates kisses?

Swap

Who reaches for the other's hand first?

Fell; it's the comfort of knowing someone is right there in your corner that's in reach feels nice to him.

Who is most ticklish?

Honestly I think it goes either way?

Who has the best 'puppy eyes'?

Swap

Who brings an animal they found home?

Swap, lord help Fell

Who holds the umbrella for the other when it's raining?

Fell, Swap enjoys the rain and would run out in it

Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?

Fell attempts to Swap is actually successful in it.

Who kills the scary bugs?

Swap

Who asks the weird questions at random in the middle of the night?

Fell

Who hogs the blankets?

Fell, I think he's a freeze baby

Who wakes up first?

Swap, something something routine

Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?

Fell

Who always makes coffee for the other each morning?

Fell, Swap doesn't drink coffee in the morning, not anymore

Who cries during certain films or when reading sad books?

Swap

Who gets scared during horror films?

Neither really, Fell is more likely to jump during a jump scare/fakeout though, just being the more jumpy and on edge of the two

Who cuts the other's hair?

They're skeletons 🩻. Lmao but if they where humans I think Fell would cut Swap's hair.

Who says "I love you" first?

Hmmmmmm Fell

Who tells their friends/family about the relationship first?

Fell definitely gloats about how he bagged a hottie

What do their friends/family think of the relationship?

Fell Paps(Edge)- He is just released someone else can help watch after his brother. As well as it's someone as strong and capable as Swap (Who he has personally tested)

Swap Paps (Stretch)- Was a bit on edge at first. He trusts his brother as an adult to make his own choices but something nagged in the back of his head knowing the rumors about Fell verse's. So he kept an eye out. Now he's calmed down a bit though he isn't fully comfortable buddy buddy with Fell the two are civil and polite. Though they do throw jabs at eachother when Swap isn't around. Baby steps.

(No I don't subscribe to the Stretch is an over protective brother who must protect his baby Bro thing from especially early utmv fandom.)

Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?

Swap, Fell would claim to have 2 left feet

Who cooks best?

Swap

Who wears the other's jacket?

I think it's mutual theft of equal opportunity but Swap definitely does it more

Who uses cheesy pickup lines?

Fell

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear?

Fell

Who makes the other laugh most?

I think Fell makes Swap laugh the most

Who needs more reassurance?

Both they both have issues :')

Who would have to bail the other out of jail?

Swap is bailing out Fell

What would be their theme song?

Who would sing their child back to sleep?

Fell, I think he has the smoother singing voice

What do they do when they're away from each other?

Fell probably goes about his day, he'll send memes and regular texts like 'remember to eat' 'miss you' and little things like that. Sometimes he makes snacks for Swap and drops it off.

Swap looks at pictures of them or when he's out and sees something will buy Fell treats, small things, or the occasional clothing item when he sees Fell has worn one out.

A headcanon about them that stabs your feels?

How long they probably spend apart. With Swap being apart of the stars, whatever job or side hustle Fell has at the time (struggling to keep a stable one). They don't get too much private just hang out and be time.

The amount of times they've probably seen the other injured too late to actually help besides mend and be near the other just to need to leave before being assured the other is fully healed probably gets to them at times.

A headcanon that mends the previous one?

The just sheer amount of love and cuddles when they are around eachother? Those two probably can't keep their hands far from each other (not in that way calm yourselves-). Hand holding, cuddles, hugs. They absolutely relish in each other's affection when able.

Link to the list used

Past CherryBerry works

Boy kissers

Edit

God I love this ship 🚢

[pyro-tf2-but-trans]

After extensive research (scrolling down on my blog a few times) I noticed I have never headcanoned ages, so for my reemergence, here’s how old I think the mercs are and some other stuff :)

Scout

23 (im pretty sure this is canon)

Born April 8th

has a fuckass tooth gap, needed braces as a kid that he hated and refuses to wear his retainer now (medic does NOT approve)

terrible diet, he's only so thin because of his occupation and insane metabolism. He hasn't seen a vegetable since last time he visited his ma.

On that note, he's also TERRIBLE about drinking water and gets confused as to why he always has a headache.

boyfailure <3

decent cook, actually

as in the food he makes is edible, despite however it might look visually

grew up just outside of Boston

Keeps random shit on his walls, constantly needs more thumbtacks. Posters, post its, stickers, pictures, signs... why is there a fucking SPOON taped next to his door this is ridiculous.

Sometimes he catches himself sucking his thumb at his big age, the loser

when he was a kid he got bullied for not looking like his siblings like at all

Soldier

38

born July 3rd (WHY COULDN'T YOU HOLD HIM IN A LITTLE LONGER, MOM.)

world war autism

both as in intensity and special interest

First got into US military type stuff hearing about the Vietnam war as a kid, it fascinated him and made him absolutely determined to help

grew up in Minnesota, ironically HATES the cold

typa guy to make himself run laps and junk if he realized he was being rude to women or something

probably ace, yes I know he has children shut up

Pyro

probably the youngest on the team, maybe 25?

born December 20th

facial dysmorphia :(

they have burn scars all over their body from an old memory they've since pushed deep into the back of their head

they can handle not wearing their suit if they absolutely have to, but avoid mirrors lest they stare into it for a long time not quite recognizing the person looking back at them

medic and engie are really the only ones that have seen them outside of the suit more than once

sorry that got sad lol

anyway they hate being infantilized, not only for being the youngest but also for being delusional

it doesn't happen as often as you'd think, at least. But sometimes medic will baby talk them when they're getting a checkup or scout will say something ignorant. They can ignore it but it gets annoying.

they enjoy chocolate ice cream

a fan of the cold in general

pretty handy, actually. They built their flamethrowers and a good few of their melee weapons, engie taught them a lot.

cutting this short cause I've been yapping about pyro for too long

Demoman

36

born January 31st

has only actually been to Scotland like twice, he was born in the us with his mum, just grew up with her long enough to gain the accent anyway

doesn't know a lick of Gaelic, sorry. Obviously words like "bonnie" and "Gob" slip out, but that's just basic Scottish vocabulary lmao

he has a collection of eye patches, he thinks his missing eye is kinda cool when he isn't annoyed about his lack of depth perception

he uses bombs specifically because of his lack of depth perception, actually, since as long as he hits within the vicinity of his target he usually wins

he's a fan of the outdoors, hangs around sniper sometimes

crazy smart, specifically a chemistry nerd (obviously) but he can answer crazy specific questions on anything. this also means he's very good at converting measurements, if you're ever baking or something lol

that last part specifically helps whenever the European dweebs say something metric and the Americans need a translator.

"yeah that's 55 kilometers away" "..." "that's about 34 miles, lad" "oooohhh"

Heavy

54, the eldest

born August 16th

hes generally pretty good at English, but certain words annoy him

like colorful? jump

likes working out with soldier, specifically lifting. The most wholesome gym bros.

helps short people reach things on tall shelves

not a whole lot I haven't already said about him lol

Engineer

42

born June 10th

horrific blue eye stare

get brown eye contacts I'm scared

scout clings to him almost as much as pyro does, actually.

he doesn't mind all that much, at least

speaks Spanish pretty fluently, though he has a very obvious accent and has yet to master rolling his Rs, he's trying his best at least <3

he's a fan of fall

used to be the worlds most annoying angsty teenager, if you can believe it

grew out of it, obviously, but he still has a crap ton of old vinyl records of all the rock bands he used to listen to in secret in a box somewhere

(if you're wondering, his parents were NOT fans)

he has four siblings! he's the second eldest, two sisters and two brothers

knows a bit of medical stuff from medic, its how he put the healing factor into the dispenser

Medic

46

born March 19th

never went to medical school, but he did quite a bit of studying in both human anatomy and biology

so yeah he never had a medical license in the first place lol

he has a collection of bones and other bits (organs, wet specimens, etc etc)

human? animal? yes

the med bay smells like birds, its not sanitary

he's a good medic despite all of these, though! just double check that you have all your guts in order before and after an operation! scout still has a bird in his chest, after all.

off topic but he also has really thick hair that sheds a lot, like if he lays down somewhere you can find a bunch of black hairs like little snakes all over the place

^hes just like me for real!

like weirdly beefy? that medigun is heavier than it looks, and the backpack is even heavier

hed be a fan of squid game in a modern au

Sniper

30

born February 23rd

weirdly cagey about his birthday?? like he'll tell you if you ask but he'll be all like "what?? why do you need to know that??"

his footsteps don't make noise, he regularly startles people (scout) by just walking into a room and just standing there

sushi fan

like never gets sick, probably from being outside all the time his whole life but his immune system is made out of steel

medic finds this fascinating lol

blind as hell without his glasses

shaves with his knife just because he thinks its cool lmao

he has a scar on his cheek because of this though he lies and says its because he almost got hit by an enemy sniper

loser hides under his hat when he's embarrased

kisses him with tongue

Spy

50

born ??? (he says a different date every time someone asks)

THIS BITCH ISNT EVEN FRENCH!!!!!

grew up in like Nevada and puts on the whole french thing to be more anonymous

fuck is a petite chou fleur?? your little cauliflower?? come on now

#spyhater

no but I do think he is a spy, and a very good one at that (he managed to convince everyone he's french, after all)

he was supposed to be on a way more advanced team but got misplaced but he was useful on the team so he stayed there (and he felt guilty about leaving his son yet again)

needed braces as a kid, wears his retainer religiously

he's visibly uncomfortable with having his mask off, but not in the same way pyro is. He hates the idea of being seen more than they hate seeing themselves.

If he doesn't like you he won't make it obvious, but he'll just. stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. not even in a death glare way, more like he's calculating how many ways he could make you vanish into thin air

sniper thinks he's neat

[11queensupreme11]

i just realized that when percy flees to midgard to try and live normally, she’ll try to get a degree/ job.

percy’s going to be the only person to be able to study and work in marine biology/ oceanography! our girlflop is an academic weapon!

best part, if cú chulainn manages to stay away for long (he'd need to be chained up tbh LMAO), she could even get MORE degrees

she's immortal now. let's say she manages to stay in midgard for a century before cú chulainn snaps and drags her back. that'd be enough for maybe 25 degrees i think???

ofc, she'd have to move around a bit to keep the humans from getting suspicious as to why she's not aging or whatever (or maybe she just changes her appearance or wipes their mind of her so she can stay longer), but anyway, just imagine her going back home with all these new degrees 😭😭😭

it's like that one scene in twilight with the wall of graduation caps from each kid, except in here, it's all HERS

though i feel like she'd get bored of it tbh.... and sad...... cuz she's constantly alone. imagine going through graduation and none of your loved ones are there 🥺💔💔💔 imagine making all these nice human friends, but having to leave them. or forcing yourself to not get too attached. sure they'll go to valhalla after they die, but she'll still be separated from them thx to her husbands 🥺💔💔

poor girl's just living a constant life of loneliness tbh. she went to midgard to get away from cú chulainn and his stupid affair, but now she's just constantly reminded that she's not mortal anymore, her life will NEVER be normal no matter how hard she tries to play pretend, and everyone she actually cares and loves are GONE 🥺💔💔💔💔💔💔

[thejawsofmax]

Klance-coded Pierce the Veil songs !!

— i only did 7 songs but i might make a big post with a few songs from each album that make me think of klance (also please be nice to me, this makes more sense in my head and im bad at describing stuff!!!!!)

Caraphernila

“and baby honestly it’s harder breathing next to you”

i think of it as keith and lance’s envy towards each other. they both feel overshadowed by the other without knowing how much they are admired by them

“hold my heart, it’s beating for you anyway”

holding his heart is letting him feel all of his love and emotions, even if it gets crushed. i think this is how keith and lance’s relationship works. lance is literally one of the only people that makes keith feel seen, being able to understand his emotions with barely any words (i think about the scene where everyone just looks over at lance and waits for him to go comfort keith. and lance does so, not even knowing that everyone was expecting him to do it)

“So what if I can't forget you? I'll burn your name into my throat, I'll be the fire that'll catch you”

i think about this as post canon klance. they have left such a big impact on each other’s lives, and then they just go their separate ways??? like no keith is definitely still thinking about lance who’s down on earth. he doesn’t want to forget him and probably never will

Million Dollar Houses (The Painter)

“would you ever try to leave me for somebody who deserves you most”

i think keith would still have some sort of lingering fear that he isn’t enough for lance, despite not actually dating him. so lance “leaving” him for allura in season 8. this can also play on lance’s insecurities, especially when in comparison to keith

“but, baby no, sometimes things don’t work out the way we planned”

OKAY THIS ONE IS DUMB and like kinda generic but it makes me think of how they were doomed by the writers LMAO

“maybe we’re meant to lose the ones we love but i’ll fight for you till then”

both keith and lance have lost a lot during the series’s events but they keep pushing further (especially with the help of each other)

Flawless Execution

“i’ll scar you with my flawless execution every time”

i think about this a lot with black paladin keith + red paladin lance. they are both learning to step up, wanting to prove themselves worthy of their positions.

“i’m not obsessed, far worse, i’m fine” “i didn’t mean to burden you with love in my condition”

this describes someone who’s love is so intense that it’s overwhelming. this is very klance to me because of how deeply connected they are to each other without even knowing it. keith being the person who gives lance the reassurance he needs, and lance being the person who is able to either push keith to do something or pull him back to rationalize his thoughts. THEY CANT LOVE LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE because they are stupid and i hate them

“you and i are blood and wine”

shows how different they are. they’re complete opposites but still somehow complete each other

First Punch

“i’ve got so much to give, but i would kill just to feel less invisible. and you got so much to learn about gravity, so live it up baby don’t look down”

this one is more about lance and his insecurities of being a paladin. although he desperately wanted to use the black lion, (s3 in the ep where they were seeing who the black lion would respond to, lance really hoped it would be him, even sitting in the lion longer than the other paladins did, just hoping it would work) he supported keith and pushed him into stepping into his new role.

the rest of the song is a lot more aggressive and i don’t think it fits keith and lance’s feelings towards each other. like even early season klance doesn’t have the same hatred as in the song but the bridge will always be lance to me

Dive In

“now i wanna be the tattoo ink that swims down through the needle in your skin”

PEAK ROMANCE‼️ i don’t have a lot of reason for this one but being tattoo ink in someone’s skin is like being with someone forever. it makes me think of the permanent scarring there were left with by the end of the series (keith’s face scar after returning to voltron and lance’s altean marks in the finale)

I Don’t Care If You’re Contagious

“And I don't care if you're sick. I don't care if you're contagious. I would kiss you even if you were dead”

this is not really based on any canon content. keith and lance are so deeply intertwined with each other without even knowing it. platonic or romantic, they care about each other. and i have very much think this insane devotion in this song feels like klance core

“I'm gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin. Till your bones feel embarrassed from all the attention. Kiss me while I drive”

PEAK ROMANCE‼️‼️ this song just generally makes me think of ships i like because this song is full of love and devotion i love it

Even When I’m Not With You

“Even when I'm not with you, I'm still with you”

this always makes me think of when keith and lance get separated. especially when keith leaves voltron, he’s still with lance (especially bc i like to think about keith leaving lance with his red lion, giving lance a little piece of him). this can so be post-canon klance because i know they are still thinking about each other even though they’re off doing their own things

“Even when I think I hate you, I still love you”

even despite any fighting, bickering, and disputes, keith and lance always care about each other, wanting them to be able to work together as a team. especially with black paladin keith!!! lance is always trying to make things work because he’s passionate about voltron’s success (and by further extension, wanting keith to be a good leader)

“Look how far we've come. Think I've finally won”

vic fuentes “think i’ve finally won” is in reference to being able to settle down with his wife. and so like i think about this as klance. by the end of the series, they both got their ending (i don’t like lance’s ending i fear) but they actually are “winning” when they are together

notes: IM SORRY A LOT OF THESE ARE POORLY EXPLAINED :(( but i heart klance and ptv so much

my secret useless talent is that i can make any pierce the veil song be about klance

[stedesparasol]

Made Up Fic Title: Table for Two

Ed is sitting in his favourite diner in the middle of nowhere when a rather dishevelled looking man walks through the door, looking around a bit desperately for somewhere to sit.  His suit is all rumpled, his hair is a mess, he looks like he’s been crying.  There aren’t any free tables, but Ed is taking up a whole booth by himself, so he isn’t surprised when the man comes over and asks if he can sit opposite, really, he won’t be a bother.  Usually this is the point where Ed would say nah sorry mate, waiting for some friends (he definitely isn’t) but this guy… intrigues him.  So he nods, and the man flops down into the booth.

When the waitress comes over, he orders nothing but a black coffee, but if you asked Ed, he’d say the guy was already jittery enough.  ‘Maybe get some food to go with that,’ he suggests.  Not that he, y’know, cares what this guy does, but if he’s gonna be hitting the road again soon, probably for the best he has something in his body other than caffeine, or whatever.  The dishevelled man looks at him like he can’t believe somebody actually cares about his food intake (seriously, his eyes got all watery and everything) and orders a sandwich.  Ed gets the feeling there’s definitely something weird going on with this guy.  Maybe he’s having a breakdown.  Maybe he’s just killed someone.  Whatever it is, Ed probably shouldn’t get involved.

‘So,’ he says anyway, once the waitress has walked away, ‘what brings you to the middle of nowhere?’

‘Oh, I’m running away from home,’ the man replies.

It takes Ed a minute to process this, given that the man is very clearly in his 40s, and that’s a strange thing for a man in his 40s to be doing.  But then the man – whose name is Stede, it turns out, Stede Bonnet, former vice president of Bonnet Industries, you may have heard of it – informs him that his father has just taken him out of the company and given his position to his childhood (and workplace) bully Nigel, and when Stede left to go home and break the news to his wife, he found her in bed with her painting instructor.

‘Obviously I’m not wanted by anybody,’ he says around a bite of his sandwich that arrived two minutes ago, ‘so I just got straight in the car and drove away.  No idea where I’m headed.  No idea where I even am, and the car’s out of gas, which isn’t ideal.  And I didn’t pack, which I’m starting to regret, because this suit isn’t really suited (pardon the pun) for a road trip, but I’m going to have to make do until I pass a good clothing store.  Although I don’t know how I’m going to do that when I’m stuck with a car that won’t move.’

And Ed really shouldn’t get any more involved in this – it sounds like the poor guy’s had a hell of a morning and is probably making some extremely rash decisions which he’s going to regret by tomorrow and is almost definitely going to start crying again in a minute – but on the other hand, it’s the most interesting thing to happen to him in ages.  ‘I know a good clothing store,’ he finds himself saying.

Stede looks up at him.  ‘You do?’

Ed nods, nudging his plate towards him.  ‘Finish your sandwich and I’ll drive you there.’

As of right now, Ed really doesn’t know whether he’s gonna end up driving this guy to a clothing store, a motel, or back home to hash things out with his wife, but what he does know is that he’s weirdly glad he let this bizarre little man take a seat at his table.

send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it ✌️

[choccy-milky]

the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO

1 like = 1 prayer

[muzzlemouths]

Hiiiiii @vectorisheree hi hiii I was your Secret Skeleton!

I fell in love with the designs of your 3LAF AU and knew right away that I wanted to try my hand at drawing them. It was TONS of fun.

Hope you're having a happy Halloween! :D

[half-bakedboy]

Number 2 from the 50 cliché tropes and prompts

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn't help but steal it

Buck never understood why he had lost so many sweatshirts and button-downs to past girlfriends. Nine times out of ten, they didn't even remotely fit their figure and they were only worn in the comfort of Buck's home anyways. 

Then he started staying over Tommy's house more and more. He'd always come prepared–an overnight bag filled with an extra LAFD shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of chinos, and two shirts, one with a collar and one without–just in case he needed to rush out in the morning. 

This morning, he isn’t quite as prepared as he wishes he had been. Tommy’s in the shower after sleepily kissing Buck good morning and Buck promised he’d run Hercules–Tommy’s ten-year-old retired racing greyhound–outside before Tommy dropped Buck off at work. Thunder crashes outside and rain pounds on the roof, and Buck didn’t even think to bring a jacket. 

He looks around the bedroom closet, careful not to invade the private space too much, but he doesn’t see anything that might help. He knows there’s an umbrella waiting beside the door, but he’s already shivering from the chill sneaking in through the closed windows and Buck knows he’ll need something to protect his skin. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pullover laid neatly on top of the laundry pile. It’s similar to his LAFD one, but a lighter blue that matches Tommy’s on-duty uniform. It won’t keep him dry, but it’ll keep him warm and keep the water off of his skin which is all he has time to care about. He snatches it up and shouts to Tommy that he’s taking the dog outside even though he’s not sure he’s heard. 

Before he gets too far, Buck pauses to get the pullover on. The first thing he notices is how much bigger it is on him. He’s not a small guy by any means, and he’s not much smaller than Tommy–at least he thinks–but there’s so much extra fabric that he has to bundle it up at his waist. He can also tell that the back doesn’t stretch taut against his shoulder blades and that the neckline slouches a little in the front. 

It’s strange to wear something so unfit for him, but at the same time, Buck can’t help but feel giddy. He glances at himself in the mirror and feels small, but not in the way he usually does. It doesn’t make him feel inconsequential or overlooked, but like he’s protected and well-loved. It stirs inside of his stomach until the joy begins to bubble in his chest. 

He notices that Tommy’s name is embroidered just over his heart, and he brings his fingers there to trace over the lettering. It takes everything in him not to whisper his name combined with Tommy’s last and he wonders if this was how his old girlfriends felt when they stole his LAFD shirts that had his name brazen on the back. 

Where he expected to be a bit embarrassed at the claiming nature of it all, he can’t help but feel… powerful. Yeah, there’s something powerful about wearing someone else's name, like he’s screaming to the world that Tommy is off-limits because he’s Buck’s. 

He’s Buck’s. 

He’s too busy thinking about what exactly that means for him to hear the bathroom door open and a freshly showered and shaved Tommy emerge. Another figure beside Buck’s reflection startles him but Tommy’s reassuring hands slide around his waist. It’s strange how normal it feels to have strong, long arms wrapped around him and a broad chest waiting to hold him up as he leans back against it. 

“You’re wet,” Buck says, feeling the dampness on Tommy’s unclothed chest. He’s in sweatpants like he’s ready to lounge around for the day, but the bare skin of his upper body is clearly on display where Buck’s body isn’t hiding it. He wants to pull away just so he can take another peek. 

Tommy doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Buck is analyzing them because he’s too busy doing the same. There’s something in his eyes, though, that sends an eruption of warmth to Buck’s face. Tommy tugs at the extra fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s having the same realization as Buck did, and then he slides one hand up Buck’s chest to trace his name. He whispers each letter like a secret into Buck’s ear, piercing eyes never leaving Buck’s in the mirror. 

Buck shivers, pressing back against Tommy and leaning his head back so that it plops on Tommy’s shoulder comfortably. Tommy finishes his name before dragging a finger to the neckline of the pullover and letting it hang there like a weight that keeps Buck grounded.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” Tommy points out like he doesn’t already know. Buck suddenly feels anxious, like he’s made a horrible mistake, and stands back up straight. He turns to look at Tommy as he speaks. 

“Is that okay? I didn’t bring a jacket so I figured—” 

Tommy kisses him before he can finish, and Buck can only hope it becomes a pattern. 

It’s just as soft as their first kiss and every kiss they’ve shared since then, but it grows in passion second by second. Tommy is gripping the fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s deciding whether he wants to pull it over Buck’s head or leave it on his forever. Buck holds his naked shoulders, palms sliding down the hard planes of his chest then his abs, before sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. 

When a cold nose hits his hand, Buck jumps back, out of breath and startled. Hercules is staring up at them like he’s let them have their fun and he’s done waiting to go outside. Tommy swipes at his face as he chuckles and Buck leans down to pat Herc’s head. 

“I’m sorry, Buddy. Am I stealing all of your dad’s attention?” Buck coos, and he can almost hear Tommy’s good-natured eye roll. 

“Well, if Evan here is done distracting me, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take you outside, huh?” 

“Oh, if Evan is done distracting you? Like you didn’t just walk out of the shower half-naked and damp and looking like you wanted to drop to your kn–” Buck inhales deeply when Tommy glances down then back up and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m out of here. Be right back,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to Tommy’s reddened lips. 

“Mhm,” Tommy hums, watching him start to walk away. 

“Do you want your pullover back?” Buck asks, because he figures that’s what he would’ve wanted to be asked. 

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours now.”

It sounds a lot like I’m yours now, but Buck doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he takes Hercules out, ignoring the storm rumbling above him, and strokes his thumb distractingly against Tommy’s name over his heart. He guesses he’s Tommy’s now, too.

(now on ao3)