#these guys are fucked up but they’re fucked up together

[aajjks]

The Conqueror (XXIV)

Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader

warnings: yàndèré, Dàrk thèmès, Fòrcèd màrrìàgè, Tàlk òf vìrgìnìty ànd màrrìàgè cònsùmmàtìòn, Gòssìpìng, Còld béhàvìòr, Ùnhéàlthỳ rèlàtìònsìp, Dèprèssìòn.

note. besties I hope you enjoy this, The reason I’m updating this more often now is because I want to finish the story as soon as I can and please share your feedback because it’s really important to me. I love you guys enjoy! Ash I finished this chapter just for you x

series masterlist

taglist: @mageprincess7 @starsggukk @sprinkleoftee @koremis @minshookie29 @sana-b @bangtannoonalvg @oonaaurora @jeonsweetpea @sugaslittlekookies @outro-kook @kthyg @lunaashes @debicaptain-saturn @laurynne5 @captainsjoongs @myblackconfessions @lanalanexpjm @namjooncrabs @shadowmoon21 @kookunot @natalie-rdr @angelicasdre @iwasfuckinginnocentonce @mermaidtea @foulnightharmony @ungodlyjoon @quechulitaaa @telepathytae @silversparkles11 @j3alous-ang3l @bunzom @1-in-abillion @breadgeniedope @jiminie-08 @artgukk @lovesthetword @bunijmin @pinkcherrybombs @afangirllikeme-blog @twilight-love-nochu-main @wedarkacademia @hollxe1 @bighitfics @darkuni63 @golden-thv @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @koocreampie (I can’t tag anymore people, it’s full 😭😭)

•••

You wake up, and the first thing you notice is the absence of him-

Jungkook. The bed is cold, empty. You feel the space beside you, where his body should have been, yet it remains untouched.

Why is he the first thing on your mind when you wake up?

You were the one who sent him away last night so you should be happy about it, as you rub your blurry eyes, your vision finally clears.

The sheets are crisp and neat, too neat, too clean.

As you sit up, the ladies-in-waiting enter quietly, their movements practiced. They approach the bed, and immediately, you see them take note of the immaculate sheets, the lack of any sign of what should have been..

A mark of possession, a proof of consummation.

“Good Morning to Our Lady Jeon.”

A sense of dread creeps up when they refer to you as a Jeon.

“Lady yn,” Na-yeon calls, her voice soft yet commanding, “it’s time to prepare for your duties as the emperor’s wife. The king will be expecting you.”

You nod, but you can’t shake the guilt settling in your chest. You already know what they’re whispering about. The sheets, they’re clean. There’s no sign of the king’s touch, no evidence of the night that was supposed to bond you together.

One of the maids, her voice barely above a whisper, says, “She wasn’t touched last night. Look at that. There’s no mark, no blood.”

Another one replies in a hushed tone, “No sign of anything.”

They probably know that you can hear them, but do they give a fuck about it? No.

So what? you want to scream but you can’t

You feel the weight of their words, like they’re pressing down on you, suffocating you. You know they’re gossiping, but you can’t stop the flush of embarrassment that creeps up your neck. The sheets, the clean, untouched sheets, they feel like a reflection of your rejection. You had turned him away last night. You had rejected him. And now, the palace is talking.

You don’t regret rejecting him, but there is a guilt that is so heavy.

You are undeniably embarrassed.

The guilt tightens your chest. It feels as though the weight of the entire palace is on your shoulders.

You didn’t want to, but it happened.

You couldn’t let yourself go through with it. Not like that. Not when you know what kind of man he is.

He is a monster. He’s someone who killed your father and ruined your entire fucking life. How could you let someone like him touch you?

You hate him so much but then why didn’t you feel the satisfaction when he had walked away from you last night leaving you untouched?the shame of turning him away is like a shadow following you now.

The ladies continue their work, preparing you for the day ahead, but the whispers echo in your mind, too loud, too real.

You were the one who rejected him last night, so why do you feel embarrassed? He’s the one who should feel embarrassed… why are they gossiping about it like it’s a big deal? You will never let someone like him touch you anyways.

So why does it feel like there is a heavy burden on your heart and why do you feel so embarrassed about still being a virgin?

They dress you in your royal attire, the weight of the silk robes feeling heavier than ever. The red and gold, the fine embroidery—it should feel like power, but instead, it feels like a prison.

You feel like a fucking puppet

Finally, they place the pin in your hair. It’s subtle but significant. You immediately feel the burden of the pen on you because you realize that you are now actually the emperor’s wife.

You’re still not queen yet and you hope that you won’t be, but this pin indicates that you are married to the emperor of Goryeo.

Emperor Jeon Jungkook. A.k.a. your worst nightmare.

You are the emperor’s wife, but not yet queen. It’s a constant reminder of your place, of how far you are from the woman you want to be, and how close you are to the role you’re forced to play.

They leave you alone with your thoughts, but you can’t escape them. You look at yourself in the mirror, trying to connect with the woman you see with the woman you feel like inside. A pawn. A possession.

The sound of tea and breakfast wafts into the room, but it feels like a distant, empty thing. Time to face him,

The emperor awaits.

“My Lady. Come on let’s go into the dining hall where you will be joined by the emperor Jeon.”

Looks like you’re not gonna be able to eat because whenever you’re in his presence, you feel sick to your stomach.

But it’s not like you have any choice.

•••

You sit at the long, opulent dining table, the sound of footsteps echoing from behind you.

The breakfast spread is grand & delicate plates of rice, fruit, meat, and steamed buns, the aroma of the dishes wafting through the air. Yet, all of it feels distant, as though it’s meant for someone else. The golden utensils, the fine porcelain cups

It’s not meant for you.

none of it feels real. Not when you know what hangs between you and Jungkook.

He enters the room quietly, his presence is as always commanding.

His tall frame fills the doorway, and despite the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the large windows, he seems to cast a shadow.

His dark curly long hair is perfectly styled, his robes a deep crimson, embroidered with gold threads, marking him as the emperor. He is a king, but right now, he looks like someone out of reach, someone untouchable.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you as he takes his seat across from you, his gaze cold. There’s no warmth in his look, no softness.

The air between you feels thick with tension, and you know, without a doubt, it’s because of last night.

You meet his gaze, but the words you want to speak catch in your throat. You can feel his anger, simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He’s holding back, but just barely. His hands rest on the table, his fingers clenched tightly around the delicate porcelain tea cup in front of him.

“You know,” Jungkook begins, his voice low, almost mocking, “last night was supposed to be different. I thought…” His voice trails off for a moment as he takes a sip of tea, his eyes never leaving you. “I thought I might have finally gotten what I’ve been waiting for. But you, you rejected me.”

He scoffs.

“You know? You look so beautiful. But it’s useless. Your beauty is useless.”

His words cut through the air like a knife, and your chest tightens. You can feel the weight of his gaze, his cold stare, as he leans back slightly in his chair, studying you.

“I don’t understand,” he continues, his voice is turning sharper. “You’ve been in this palace for a year. You’ve been living in luxury, waiting for this moment. Yet, when it comes, you turn away from me? What makes you think you can do that, hm?”

You swallow, trying to gather your thoughts. It’s hard to speak when the tension in the room is so thick, so suffocating. You know you can’t apologize, not with the pride he carries. But you can’t keep quiet either.

His presence is so overwhelming and maybe the guilt in your heart is also weighing on you.

“I didn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a sharp gesture of his hand, signaling that he doesn’t want to hear your excuses.

He just dismissed you like you mean nothing.

“You didn’t what?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You didn’t want me? The man who made you his wife?” His lips curl into a cruel smile.

He thinks that you are pathetic.

“You really think you can just refuse me and walk away from it all? There’s no escaping me, not anymore. You belong to me now, whether you like it or not.”

The words hit you like a slap, and you look away, unable to meet his eyes. The food in front of you suddenly loses its appeal, the steam rising from the rice feeling like it’s choking you.

You want to speak up, to explain yourself, but you know it won’t change anything. He won’t listen. Not now, not after what happened last night.

Jungkook leans forward, his eyes narrowing as if he’s waiting for you to speak, to beg, to plead for his forgiveness. He’s enjoying this, you realize.

Enjoying the control he has over you, enjoying the way you’re forced to sit there and endure his words.

“Well?” He presses, the coldness in his voice now unmistakable. “Are you going to explain yourself? Or are you just going to sit there and pretend everything is fine?”

You clench your fists in your lap, the urge to stand up and leave the room almost overwhelming. But you can’t. You can’t leave. Not when the emperor is sitting right in front of you, and you know the consequences of defying him.

Instead, you hold your breath and force yourself to speak but no words come out.

His expression darkens, and he leans forward, his eyes locked on yours, piercing and dark.

“You’re my wife. But you are one ungrateful woman, and if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t.”

The words make your skin itch, your chest is tightening with a mixture of fear and frustration.

You didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’s the emperor. He’s always had power. He’s never had to ask for anything, he just takes it.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be forced into this life,” you mutter, barely able to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “To be used as a pawn in your game.”

His eyes flash with anger, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to snap. But instead, he leans back in his chair again, his jaw clenched tight.

“You don’t get to speak to me like that,” he warns, his voice dangerously calm. “You may be my wife, but I will not tolerate disrespect. Not from you. Not from anyone.”

“Especially not from you yn.”

The room grows silent, the only sound the clinking of silverware and the soft hum of the palace outside. You know he’s not done with you yet. This conversation is far from over. But for now, he sits in silence, his anger barely contained.

You don’t know what to expect next. Will he lash out? Will he punish you? You’re not sure, but deep down, you know one thing—

This is only the beginning of the torture that you’re going to be facing for the rest of your life.

“Fuck.. you just know how to ruin my fucking mood, but there are other important things that I need to make sure that you know.” he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his simmering anger down.

Jungkook looks at you with his unyielding cold gaze.

“ the king of China, along with his daughter will be arriving to our empire in a few days. They have started their journey through ship so they shall be here in sometime. They are coming here to congratulate us on our marriage and maybe some political alliances but that is none of your concern.”

His tone is mocking.

“What should be your concern is that you’re going play the perfect wife in front of them, and if you don’t, my love?” he smiles, sickly at you.

“There will be severe consequences. Because you don’t seem to be wanting my love. So instead, I’m going give you my anger and my hatred.”

Those words of his send shivers down your spine because he says them such practiced ease. And what’s even more unsettling is the fact that his eyes seem to be empty and cold.

[ghostgirl-22]

Somehow the conversation coming up that art doesnt know what he likes or knowing his own body because he always did what he was supposed to and no girl has felt the need or want to touch him because "hes the man and shouldnt need all that" "guys take care of the girl not the other way around" iykwim so patrick decides to help him figure it all out

How much pressure he likes, how wet he likes it, if he like gentle or nipping, gripping or biting.. where his erogenous zones are... kissing the sensitive parts of his inner thighs, what roles he likes to take, how he likes to be spoken to...?

U can ignore this part but Maybe pat asks "You never even tried doing it yourself? Like taken your time and see where your hands go?"

art says how would i be able to figure it out when i dont know where to start or what to do. Pat understands there probably a repression aspect to it aswell aand so they discover art together with pat guiding him through this new world/exploration

Omg! Your ask is literally ten times better than what I wrote but I love you for letting me try it dear nonnie <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Basically this is just yearning and longing and porn with the thinnest of plots. So Artrick core.

——

It all comes out over holiday break. Art is staying with Patrick, it’s a few days after Christmas and Art’s parents are already busy with fundraisers and meetings. To them it doesn’t matter how Art gets back to Stanford, as long as he gets back so they could care less that Patrick keeps him for a few days.

They’re up too late. Patrick is lying on the floor with his laptop, looking up the scheduled matches for this season and who he’ll likely be playing. Art has taken over his bed, flipping channels on the television, going back and forth between American Pie on TBS and ESPN. Patrick is certain the sex conversation starts because they’re watching American Pie but what starts out as Art trying to get more information about Patrick’s sex life with Tashi leads to Art admitting he’s never really explored what he likes in bed.

“What do you even mean, explore?” Art asks, suddenly self conscious. He’s such a little perfectionist, checked off all the boxes, straight As, Ivy League college, division one tennis player, first girlfriend at the “right” age, lost it (many times) before high school finished. Patrick can tell it’s frustrating him to feel like he missed something. “Do you mean… touching myself?”

That’s really all it takes to divert Patrick’s attention. He shuts his laptop and sits up, gazing at Art. “Yeah jerking off is one part,” Patrick says, “But I meant what do you like?”

“I like having sex,” Art shrugs, “it’s simple. What else is there to explore?”

“Oh come on,” Patrick smirks. “It’s anything but simple. Do you even know your favorite position?”

Art rubs his arm, its so obvious he’s never even thought about it. “I don’t really… I mean um… I like… you know… the usual way.”

“Yeah that checks out,” Patrick says teasingly and Art’s gaze darkens.

”Why? How do you fuck Tashi?”

Patrick grins because he knew it was coming. “Nice try.”

Art huffs an irritated sigh. “Whatever man. Just because I’m not trying every position or whatever. I mean what difference does it make? She still…everybody still leaves happy.” Art picks up the remote and switches channels again like he’s done with the conversation but his skin is starting to flush.

He’s so easy. Patrick decides to push a little more. He shoves Art’s legs over and settles next to him on the full sized bed. Art just sits up, crossing his legs, he rests back on his palms.

Maybe it’s because Patrick helped him with his first sexual experience or maybe it’s because he has some kind of corruption kink but he loves whenever their relationship shifts back around to this show-me-how dynamic.

Art is so good at walking this line of self delusion that he’s this perfectly good straight boy… but when he needs something from Patrick. Usually experience. That’s when the lines start to blur. It’s a fucking mess but that’s exactly where Patrick lives.

“Look dude it’s not even about that.” Patrick continues. “It’s about… you remember when we were kids. You were so scared you’d suck at kissing so I—”

“Yeah I was a dumb kid,” Art interrupts quickly.

“Sure but you practiced…” Patrick points out. “And you’re a really good kisser now,” he says, smirking. Art looks away.

Patrick sighs. “I’m just saying if you play around… and learn what you really like. Sex can be really, really fucking good. Besides that’s half the fun of it anyway, right?”

Art chews his bottom lip and then he sighs. “It’s just… I mean I’m a guy… I thought I was supposed to look things up. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“What did you look up?”

“I don’t know, how to put on a condom? Only the first time. And like there was this article about unhooking different types of bra straps. Shut up,” he adds, shoving Patrick gently because he can’t help laughing at that.

“Okay how about this?” Patrick says, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. He leans back against the headboard, “Do you like it slow? Or do you prefer going fast?”

”Both,” Art says. “I like whatever she likes to do.”

“You don’t have a preference? What about when you’re touching yourself?”

Art plays with his tongue, rolls it back and forth in his mouth as he’s thinking. “Slower.” He says after a while. “Like… when I get the chance I like it…” He glances at Patrick and then looks determinedly back at the tv. “Slower.”

Patrick takes a breath and tries to slow himself down too but he can already feel his cock starting to fill up. “Okay what about touch? What makes you feel good? What gets you up?”

Art frowns. “I um… I don’t—- what about you? Where do you—” he sighs and then shakes his head. “Patrick, this is ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t, what’s ridiculous is you really don’t know what you like.”

Art is gripping the remote too tightly. “I know what I like,” he says.

“What?” Patrick gazes at him.

“Lots of stuff,” Art says.

“Like?”

Art rubs his thighs, Patrick looks down, following the anxious movement.

“I know something you like,” Patrick says after Art doesn’t say anything for a minute. “You want me to show you?”

Art starts playing with his tongue again, he takes a deep breath and nods and Patrick sits up so he’s close.

“You like it when someone kisses you here,” he brushes his knuckles along the junction between Art’s neck and collar bone and he shivers, pulling his shoulder up towards his ear. Patrick considers going in for the kiss but getting Art in a headspace is a delicate thing. It can lead everywhere and nowhere depending on how Patrick handles him.

And he knows Art… fuck… apparently he knows things about Art’s body that he’s not even aware of. This messy little “friendship” is gonna drive him crazy.

“Can I—“ Patrick lets his fingertips settle along the nape of Art’s neck where his curly hair is fine and baby soft. Art closes his eyes momentarily and takes a little breath.

”You like that too,” Patrick says.

“Yeah,” Art says softly.

Patrick licks his bottom lip to keep himself from licking at the flush on Art’s throat. “Do you like being on top? Or on the bottom?” Patrick asks, carefully.

Art opens his eyes and bites his lip again before taking a deep breath. “I think I prefer it when she… when she’s on top.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know… it’s hot. I mean…” he looks at Patrick. “I like looking at her tits when she….” He looks down shyly. Such a stupidly, pretty boy.

Patrick smirks. “So you're a boob guy.”

“So are you,” Art says, like he’s been caught doing something bad and doesn’t want to be the only one to get in trouble.

Patrick shrugs. “I love everything. I’m more of an ass man. But if you want to kill me show me a great pair of legs… I mean… fuck.”

Art rubs his thighs again. “I really like Tashi’s legs.”

“I bet you do,” Patrick smirks, leaning in. “What about you? You ever let her touch your chest?” He teases his fingers over Art’s t-shirt where his pecs are. Art gasps lightly as Patrick pinches just the right spot and the nipple starts to harden immediately. Patrick circles it lightly and Art shifts on the bed, pressing one hand into his lap and pushing Patrick away with the other. “Fuck no. That’s weird right?” Art asks, his voice a little pitchy.

God he fucking loves it. Patrick wants to push him down on the bed. But he sits on his hands to make himself behave. “What’s weird about it?” Patrick asks.

“I mean… I’m a guy. Why would she want to touch my… my nipples.” Art huffs a nervous little laugh.

“To make you feel good,” Patrick says softly.

Art licks his lips idly and lets out another breath.

“What about grip… do you like it soft?” Patrick asks.

Art nods. “Yeah.”

“This?” Patrick grips his wrist gently. “Or this?” He asks gripping a little tighter. “Or?” He grips tighter still, until Art squeezes his eyes shut.

“The… the middle… the second one.”

“Just right,” Patrick lets up on his grip. “What about here?” Patrick trails his fingertips…slowly… down Arts tummy.

“Stop,” Art breathes as Patrick’s fingers reach the elastic of his boxers.

Patrick shrugs, letting go of the elastic and smirking. He could do this all night. Touch and poke and prod and feel. He knows it’s turning Art on. He’s flushed so fucking beautifully, worrying his lips all red, squirming on the mattress.

“What about…” Patrick sits up on his knees and plays his fingers into Art's hair. Art looks up at him eagerly. Eyes fully dilated, lips parted, breathing shallow.

God.

Such a fucking pretty, pretty boy.

All Patrick wants now is whatever the fuck he can get away with. “Can I kiss you soft?” He asks as he presses his lips to Art’s mouth. Art nods and opens up, sliding his tongue into Patrick’s mouth right away, wanting it. Even though they’d only ever kissed a handful of times, ever since the first time their lips touched Patrick could tell that for Art kissing would be a Thing with a capital T. Patrick caresses the side of Art’s throat and feels it as he shivers. He listens to the way Art’s breathing. So aware of how Art’s body is moving. He’s opening up, he’s uncrossed his legs, knees pulled up, he’s grabbing at Patrick’s t-shirt trying to pull him closer as Patrick starts to deepen the kiss. Pressing his tongue more firmly into Art’s mouth. Art really likes that. He starts gasping, nibbling on Patrick’s lip before pushing his own tongue back in. When he starts moaning Patrick pulls back. His heart is railing against his ribcage and he’s losing himself. His hips are pressed in between Art’s legs feeling everything. Certain Art is feeling everything.

”Fuuckk,” Patrick breathes. He flops onto the bed resting his head on his pillow. If he were with Tashi right now he’d probably be halfway inside her already. Everything with her is impatient, horny and desperate. Everything with Art is pleading, anxious and pretending he doesn’t want it as badly as he fucking does.

Art is breathless, lips kiss swollen, he scoots back to get distance. “This is… so…”

“You like dirty talk?” Patrick interrupts.

Art smiles a bit and shrugs. “Kinda.”

“What’s kinda?” Patrick asks.

Art kicks his legs, lightly. “I like… I like when she tells me how she can’t wait for me to fuck her…”

Patrick sits up on his elbows. “Like I’m so wet for you baby, can’t wait to feel that big dick inside me?” Patrick says softly.

”Jesus Patrick,” Art says, covering his face.

“What?” Patrick says, smiling slightly at the reaction.

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're wet,” Art whispers.

“So what do you want me to say?” Patrick says, he gets up again, abruptly crawling back into Art’s personal space. Art reacts at the sudden movement by opening his mouth… Patrick can see his little pink tongue, desperate for another kiss.

Art is gazing at him, pupils so large the rings of blue are barely visible. They’re so close, their lips are almost touching when Art licks his mouth. A horny little mess, if Patrick tried it now he thinks Art might let him fuck.

Patrick smiles and then leans against Art’s ear. “Can’t wait till you fill me up and fuck me good baby…” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah,” Art says quietly. “I can fuck you good.”

Patrick thinks he’s gonna go insane.

Art’s breathing starts to pick up again.

“Can you fill me up and stretch me… fuck me so hard I can feel you for days…” Patrick whispers.

“Mmhm,” Art hums eagerly, he starts lapping and sucking along Patrick’s throat, it’s so fucking yummy.

Patrick rubs his hand lightly along the inside of Arts thigh, trying to graze his knuckles along Arts cock. Art hitches another breath.

“That feel good?” Patrick asks gently.

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly.

“You like it when she goes down on you before you fuck her?” Patrick asks.

“Yes, mm, yes,” Art says eagerly, shifting on the bed so Patrick can get between his legs. It’s so slutty the way he opens up so quickly, knowing what Patrick wants to do. Patrick presses a kiss along the inside of his upper thigh.

“Mm,” Art whines, and Patrick’s sure he’s just found another sensitive spot. He kisses it again, this time sucking at the skin there and Art moans properly. Patrick grins and starts palming him through his shorts. His own cock feels so fucking heavy. He’s thought about fucking Art since the first time he watched him nut all over himself but right now he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get this.

“You gotta tell me how you want it to feel,” Patrick says looking up at him. “Can you talk me through it?”

“What if your… what if we get caught?” Art whispers.

“Everyone is asleep by now I promise,” Patrick says.

”Are you sure?”

“Fucking yes.” Patrick says impatiently, though if he’s honest he wouldn’t give a fuck at this point if they were all right outside his bedroom door. He can’t help himself, he tugs Art’s shorts down to see it.

He’s still barely got any hair there and he’s definitely still blonde everywhere. He’s so hard, his cock is so pretty and pink and full to the tip, pearls of cum dripping. Patrick laps it up and Art hisses.

“Talk to me,” Patrick whispers. “You like it wet?”

“Fuck,” Art breathes. “I mean yes. Yeah I want it wet. Oh god.”

Patrick fills his mouth.

“Oh— oh— fuck—-“ Art groans, he’s so loud. His hips stutter but Patrick holds him down, swirls his tongue around, doesn’t swallow anything, just drools all over it. Arts toeing the bed, trying to push up. “Mm fuck your tongue can you… can you do it faster…” Art moans. So Patrick moves his tongue faster.

He doesn’t ask, maybe because he’s too far gone but he teases his fingertips up along Art’s entrance and the sounds that Art makes in response, make Patrick shiver.

“Patrick,” Art gasps, his body is practically vibrating. Patrick presses his fingers in a little deeper and he moans like the boys do when Patrick’s on those websites in the middle of the night with the volume down low. But Art can’t be quiet… and Patrick doesn’t want him to stop.

“Patrick! Patrick I can’t—- I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum— holy shit—“ Art wasn’t even done saying Patrick’s name when Patrick’s mouth started filling up. And boy does it fucking fill up. Patrick’s swallowing, and swallowing and swallowing. He’s so greedy he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of it. Art is whining breathlessly when Patrick finally lets it drop from his mouth, still so shiny and red and wet, twitching helplessly. Patrick just stares at it, dizzy for a minute before he drops onto the bed next to Art and reaches between his legs and starts touching himself.

Art sighs and pulls his shorts up properly before rolling over. He puts his hand where Patrick’s is and starts helping. “What about you? Art asks softly. “What do you like?”

A/N: Sorry this took hundreds of years my love. I wanted to do better but unfortunately got lots to catch up on so it shall be good enough <3

[windybluebelles]

More people should play around with what time the Fawcett City time bubble thing happened.

The most often ones I’ve seen are, 1960s, 1950s or 1930s.

Yeah, we love those. They’re the most canon compliant and have good comedy potential already.

Id like to propose some other years that would be funny.

Early 2000s, just early enough that the kids would have understood technology and know they don’t and they’re really annoyed.

1970s, not much different but it gives Billy the chance to meet some people’s parents and do some wild stuff.

“Oh Martha Wayne? I remember her, we smoked crack together.” (Drugs can’t effect him as Captain Marvel it’s fine guys)

1940s, I’m talking early 40s, I want them kids growing up on RATIONS.

1915ish, guys i want them to catch the Spanish Flu. Because I hate them.

Anytime before the 20th Century, it can be the literal end of the 1800s, it can be Ancient Greece. Idgaf, it would be hilarious. Cap just starts talking about the actual plague or some shit, AWSOME.

Listen, I believe that Fawcett is weird enough that we can get away with saying that it wasn’t even originally in America. Put them fuckers is Wales and have them be close friends with Merlin, have them be ancient Romans, Egyptian would be funny with the whole Black Adam shit, let them be from like the middle of fucking Asia or some shit.

Guys please it’s so funny to imagine geographers trying to explain why a random town actually just appears in Philadelphia and none of them speak English.

[mawlbone]

FINDERS KEEPERS - NIKTO

SNIPPET: You know what everyone says about stranger danger but you didn’t had really had the heart to leave someone, even if they looked like they can easily kill you on the bathroom floor alone, drunk, and heated.

[CW: gn reader, alpha reader, civilian reader, disabled noseblind reader, depressed reader, omega nikto, whiny nikto, dubcon (kinda, it’s the worst meet-cute in history), stalking, kidnapping, and no penetrative sex, dry humping, and messy licking and kissing]

[COMMENT: Ramble style fic. Spawned out between me and oomf’s thoughts when chewing on the man so have Nikto who is desperate for comfort.]

Going to the bar alone after work for your birthday wasn’t really the most idealistic of plans that you had set out for yourself as a kid. Well, no one really but getting drunk before your day-off seemed like the only way you can enjoy such an occasion with the bit of extra cash in your pocket.

But it’s that’s just fun money, not change-your-life-around money. You never have enough to escape the “bad part of town” as the locals called it. Between getting kicked out from the house at eighteen and paying off the never-ending piles of bills at your door — you never really had the opportunity or time to go further your education. It doesn’t help that you can’t even pick up social cues anymore after a bad fall robbed your ability to smell pheromones causing you to fired from your previous jobs because you couldn’t keep or understand a client’s temperate as they filed a complaint towards you. You learned to stock up on scent patches.

Sure, working at the local corner store now had given you enough money to pay for your crummy apartment — if you skip a night or two of dinner which you don’t mind necessarily. It’s not your neighbor’s fault that your savings kept depleting because the shitty landlord keeps raising the rent knowing her residents consists a single mother with kids, disabled elders, and some recovering addicts trying to get their life back together. All whom are too all working within a tight budget to survive. You avoid their guilty gazes every month when you give them an extra twenty or so to make their ends meets so they don’t get kicked out. They’re decent folks, really. People like them don’t deserve to be on the streets.

So here you are, nursing a cheap beer in your hand watching the people among the chaos of the room. The air is hot and dry with the crowd of bodies stuffed into the building amongst the low lights of the room as they mingled on the dance floor.

From your stool, you can truly take in the tackiness as the disco balls swing around flashing everyone in high saturation as the music vibrates your eardrums with enough bass to rattle your brains out. You think you are starting to regret coming in the first place as nurse a cheap beer in your hand. Like really, what bright idea did you had earlier thinking you can enjoy a night out in the club knowing you’re broke, lonely and exhausted from moving boxes. You tilted your head staring down waiting and wishing to go home already But it’s your birthday so you should be up past midnight trying to party with everyone else like all the normal people do during such an occasion.

It’s strange of how much you are coming to hate being in this room right now.

Despite all the liveliness sweaty bodies rubbing against you, the smell of strong liquor burns your nose and the sounds of glass clinking around — your headache continues to grows worse…

Maybe that was the signal for you to realize how fucking pathetic you are standing here like a dunce waiting for something fortune to happen to you. Perhaps you really should had stayed at home instead and avoid all these stuffiness inside your chest but something had piqued your ear from among the noise, something about some bastard in heat passed out in the bathroom.

Poor guy…

You didn’t know exactly compelled you to go find him. Perhaps it was part pity and part curiosity that got you wandering past the sea of people to go look for him, you’re not sure…

Whatever it was, alas for this terrible birthday you can finally escape the crowd.

—

Nikto can only lay in disbelief as another person toe by his body, unfazed as another person simply toe by him, but he can only let out another sad whimper as another cramp twist his guts out.

Laying on the sticky tiles of the bar’s bathroom for hours on end isn’t exactly the most ideal way to entice someone to fuck him but he’s desperate — and everything hurts. So he can only squirm around as another spurt of slick dribble down his thigh annoying everyone at the stench. However, no passerby dare complain seeing the amount of muscles on the man as they tip toe around his body ignoring the small sob escaping from the man’s lips as they fling themselves back into the party.

Months prior before all of this, he had an appointment with his doctor who forbade him from taking anymore suppressants pills saying any more will damage his body something to which he had scoffed at. What more damage can one do to him at this point? His body is marred with scars and he has a file as thick as a dictionary, but all of that never stopped him from fulfilling his duties as a living weapon.

So why is it is that’s he’s here in a drunken stupor with enough liquor in his system to kill a man waiting — hoping for some stranger to take advantage of him.

He didn’t meant to get so wasted, just enough where he’ll forget about being pumped and dumped to ease this pain temporarily. But here? Only the hell of hot alcohol and a shitty cycle is here to torment him.

Fuck! Is he really that ugly that no one would even try to touch him? Do they too see him beyond repair? He already knows nothing about him screams dainty and cute so why does he even try at this point?

Another set of chills cuts through his thoughts before he can continue as he hisses at the pain racking through his head just barely hearing another round of footsteps come close to the bathroom before his vision fades into black.

God, a kiss sounds so good right now.

—

You didn’t know exactly what type of person you were expecting when you step inside the dimly lit bathroom — but seeing a giant of a man wasn’t definitely one of them that everyone failed to mention while you were snooping around. Yeah… Definitely ex-military or something with those scars and face mask as you leaned down to observe the corpse — for a lack of a better word. Stone still and dripping with sweat, he definitely look like he seen better days if anything as you turned him over, grimacing slightly at how sweaty he had become based from the dampness of his jacket against your hand. Whatever, at least he’s breathing much to your relief not knowing what to do with a dead body. With your luck nowadays, hell, maybe even charged with murder.

But here you are now, your interest sated for the night but still left feeling unfulfilled as you poke the muscular form.

Even with your condition, you’re not that dumb to not notice the stranger is in heat. What terrible timing, you think as you looked at him almost like a feral creature if anything with how red his face is as he pants away. Why hasn’t no one picked him up yet? Did he came alone? You can only wonder as you moved closer, frowning slightly at the stench of alcohol on his breath. Against the sickly pale yellow lights, he kinda reminded you of those helpless little strays that wander about your apartment funny enough, you don’t know why but maybe it’s the situation that’s making you feel a bit nostalgic today at the pitifulness of it all.

Musing, you considered with yourself… You don’t exactly have plans tomorrow and you can use up your paid leave if worst comes to worst.

You held in that small note of sadness inside your heart when no one tried to stop you as you lugged the man through the crowd and out the bar. Really, no one should be out like this, no matter who you are even if you’re freakishly tall and scary looking. Still, couldn’t anyone had the decency to sit him up against a wall or something so he’s doesn’t chock on his vomit or settle him down one of the bar’s couches? If you get killed later for inviting some weirdo into your home — well at least you don’t have to worry about going back to work again as you sigh, solemnly making a very slow walk back home down the cold streets.

Why does he have to be so heavy…

—

You didn’t had the nicest things to go comfort an omega during a heat but you piled whatever you had onto the living room floor and dragged him there, still knocked out thankfully enough as you went around fluffing and softening your hard floor with your blankets and pillows.

He’s actually quite adorable for the most part if anything, kinda like a sad dog if anything. As soon as you rolled him into the thing, immediately he was all smiles and purrs as you moved him around trying to clean away the sweat and dried slick all over his body with a spare towel as you removed his dirtied clothes. If anything, he was too complacent letting you move him around like a rag doll in the nest without any sort of struggle, though his kisses are a bit distracting if you can even call them that.

All teeth and spit, you can barely comprehend what he was doing with all the alcohol and heat stirring up his mind as you constantly push his head away so you can continue cleaning him up. But he’s lovely despite all the scars, if anything it’s a bit charming. But maybe that’s just the pathetic part of your brain talking wishing for someone to love you this easily as he curls his body around you for warmth.

Sometimes you’ll wake up to him crying in a fit at you, just nipping at your ears annoyingly all because you had to crawl away for a few moments and give him some painkillers for his aches and feeding him with whatever left you had in your fridge so he don’t starve. Thank goodness to whoever made for takeout a thing. Some words you can make out from his sobs is how they constantly want you to touch them, small demands of them wanting your body touching them in any sort of way so they know you won’t leave them whenever you’re held in the nest with him.

You don’t mind, if anything you enjoy being relied on as he chirps whenever you kiss down his scarred body absolutely soaking in all the attention because no, you’re not going to fuck the guy while he’s drunk and in heat but this is the only way to settle him down enough to stop asking you due to his delirium and drink some water. The last thing you want is him passing out because you were neglectful in your care. Though him ripping off your scent patches with your teeth was enough to stun you long enough to where he basically crushed you underneath his weight just nuzzling away at your nape and huffing at it like an addict. Why? Because he got fussy every time you said “no” to claiming him every hour or so while baring his neck. Can’t you see how sweetly he’s presenting for you? How good of an omega he will be for you?

It had been a week since he had stayed in your apartment, and for today you have to deal with him whining at you to do it anything only to be constantly denied. It quite easy to ignore his requests with your problems since you don’t really get ruts anymore because of your problem which he doesn’t seem to understand every time you try to tell him as he paws at your waistband grumbling seeing how soft you still are. He’ll even be a brat and start grinding onto the various blankets or against your leg trying to tempt you into fucking him as he presents himself letting the slick dribble down his legs only for you to go start cleaning him up again.

Fortunately for Nikto, you had caused an accident by holding his nape a little too firmly one day in order to calm him down so he can eat but maybe nails was a bit similar to teeth with nails as before you know it, he released a puddle onto your freshly laced towels and promptly passed out with nothing more than a squeeze. You felt guilty about it but the man can only hum happily just enjoying the rush of excitement jittering though his nerves as he trembles enjoying the break from the pain racking through his muscles as he cries at you to call his name and praise him as if he was yours.

Yeah, you are definitely in it for the long run as you rub your hand over his choppy hair, simply too amused at this too big silly omega trying to squeeze onto your lap for more cuddles during aftercare saying something about how they demand you to squeeze him hard against your chest.

Your heart did broke however when you woke up to him missing without any trace of a note left anywhere for you to read. But is it still strange how you don’t seem bothered by this new presence following you home every night and walking home knowing your apartment had been broken into with your clothes and blankets disappearing every so often only to be returned back with a demand for you to wear them again something you had laughed at. Maybe because you know it’s him at the end of the day being a brat.

Hell, you even splurged a bit on ingredients to cook for the man as everytime you leave a plate at your table, you’ll eventually find it empty with a small note full of his little comments and critique on some scraped pieces of paper.

What a weirdo. A lovable weirdo at that.

—

There’s not many things that surprise Nikto at this age but waking up in someone’s home was the last thing he could had expected from his stunt at the bar as the last lingers of heat faded away, he never knew it was possible to stuff this many pillows and blankets in a nest but hadn’t complained as he shifted his body around absolutely purring away at the smell of an alpha surrounding him just doing big stretches around the mountains of comforts and too rubbed his scent all over the softness around him.

Forgive him, he was a bit stupid from heat so it took him an embarrassing amount of time before he realized he can feel the cushion against his cheek. Like a bullet, quickly he run his hand over his face only to realize the lack of weight over it as he groaned into the fuzzy blanket.

Okay… so this person already saw his face and didn’t him out yet, he figured.

He ignored the slight flutter in his chest as he rubbed at his cheeks unable to take in the shame of this situation as he tried to recollect his memories lost within the heights of his hear. Distantly he can remember waking in and out of conscious to the sensations of someone feeding him, wiping his sweat away, and tucking and cuddling him as he whines at them to come fuck him only to be hushed at much to his frustrations at you.

You must like him enough to do all of this for, right? Even letting him continuously come into your life knowing he’s there and feeding and supplying him with your clothes. That’s courtship, no?

So who’s to say you should be surprised when you found yourself gagged and tied up in his basement cuddled in his nest after coming home late one day bruised from being mugged late because he got tired of you overworking yourself for your neighbors and being endangered.

You may had been the one to find him but he’s keeping you all to himself.

[lunaandco]

dom!gavi nsfw alphabet

pairing: gavi x reader

summary: headcanons of dom!gavi in bed

warnings: obviously nsfw, rough sex

sub!gavi version // masterlist

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's the king of cuddles. He's already very touchy and clingy on his day to day life, but after spending the night with you, it's even more.

He's terrified of coming across as too much while in bed and the aftercare is as much a way of reassuring him that you're alright, as it is of making sure he knows you enjoyed his intensity.

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Of his? His shoulders. He loves the way you cling to them when he's fucking you; the little kisses you give him there from time to time or the way you stare at them. It's obvious you find them hot and he likes that.

Of you? Your neck. There is no way he's passing out on the chance of kissing your neck, sukcing and licking there. He knows all the sensitive spots and loves seeing you with his marks all over. He sometimes likes to rest his hand on your neck like a collar.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He loves cumming on you.

If he has to wear a condom —whether bc lack of birth control or just recently met you, he will pull out and jack off above you—ass, face, tits, not a single part of you is safe, it would depend on his mood.

If there is any birth control method available—pills, iud implant... he's cumming inside, he loves watching his cum drip out of your fucked out pussy.

D: Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to try anal but is scared you will think he's too filthy.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a bit shy, so it takes him a while to dare to talk to girls. His sudden rise to the first team forced him to come out of his shell. He's had more chances than the average 20yo guy, but I don't think he's more experienced than the average. A few flings here and there, three to four steady girlfriends...

F: Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

Doggy. He has all the power there, gets to see how he's sinking into you and how your ass bounces with each thrust. He also loves grabbing you by the hair or your neck and lifting you up until your back is pressed to his chest.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He's a ball of fluff and goof normally, but when he gets horny, suddenly everything is very serious. He frowns a lot and in the beginning you thought he was pissed at you, but he was actually turned on.

He doesn't do many jokes in bed, but if you burst out giggling for whatever reason, ge will follow no matter what.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes)

He's usually well groomed, takes care of it as often as he does the legs or the chest. He likes having a happy trail tho

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's intense, his body always glued to yours one way or another. It doesn't matter how hard or rough he's fucking you, he's always as close as he physically can. There is a lot of eye contact too, he's always checking to make sure you're enjoying it, specially in the beginning when you don't know each other that well.

J: Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Often. Probably everyday, if he's not around you. When you're together, he still keeps the habit. He likes having some me time regularly, it's something intimate he won't give up just because he has a partner. Also because he's horny 24/7 lol

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Brat Taming: Gavi loves putting you in your place. Whether you're just disobeying or just teasing him, he will become a very bossy, forceful dom, always pushing you and manhandling you into doing what he wants you to. He won't shy away from spanking or choking, delighted at the startled noises you make and the bruises in your skin.

Jersey Sex: Wear his kit and soon you'll be bent over the nearest surface. Seeing his name and number in you back always gets him going. Once, you borrowed a Madrid shirt from your brother, just to see what Gavi would do. To this day, it's the hardest fuck of your life.

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Usually the bed, but he's also very into any surface he can bend you over, like the kitchen counter, the loving room table or the bathroom sink.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you're touching him, turn the caresses into slow, focused movements and he'll be yours. Like it was mentioned earlier, seeing you on his kit—or his clothes in general will turn him on. However, he's still very young and temperamental. He gets horny with very little.

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything with food. It's messy—and not in the fun way.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes eating you out and having you squirming on his tongue, but he's still a boy. There is nothing he loves more than seeing you on your knees, struggling to take him, a mess of saliva, tears and pre cum.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Fucks like he plays and with that I think I say it all. He's a beast, fierce and sharp.

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Did you really stay the night at Gavi's if you do t have a morning quickie before you need to go to work/training?

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Gavi is young and there is still a lot of things he wants to try. He has a bucket list of different stuff that you like to pick over when you're in the mood for something new.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

As commentators like to say in matches, Gavi has three lungs. He lasts a while, definitely more than you sometimes, but it gets you off when he uses your body after you've been exhausted like you're some sex doll.

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He's too afraid to buy them himself, but if you have your own, he won't gave any trouble in using them on you.

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Not much. He's direct and straight to the point, even if the point is touching your body for hours at an end before actually fucking you.

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not a stranger to groans and grunts, his voice is one of your biggest turn ons and he takes advantage of it. He gasps a lot specially when you're sucking him off.

W: Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

Gavi loves it when you scratch his back as he fucks you. The embarrassment of his teammates noticing the marks and mocking him is completely worth it, if he gets to feel the reminder of your pleasure every time he moves.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Average length, but rather on the thick side. The stretch is nice but not uncomfortable.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Every day, sometimes twice a day. Depending on the calendar, adrenaline can get him even more horny. Gavi does not care if you're on your period, he needs to have you and he'll have you no matter what.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty fast. Between all the football and fucking, he's usually exhausted by the end of the day. It's normal Gavi to pass out mid sentence during the aftercare, which you find quite adorable.

[astra-ryuusei]

"Awakening the Sleeping Giant" p2

people seemed to like the first post so have a little more :)

might put it on ao3 later or something

-----------------------

The language barrier is a problem, Ulchtar finally decides once they touch down, and his new friend seems to agree.

He’d hit a snag in trying to describe where to go when he realized the Giant had been asleep for longer than English had existed as a language. Thankfully, gestures seemed to be more-or-less universal, so he was able to get across the idea of where to go eventually. They’re currently nestled in a cave somewhere in the Scandinavian mountains. It’s a remote place, especially after the alien attacks in the area a few years back. But he knows that this isn’t a permanent solution.

They need to learn to communicate before the inability to do so gets them both killed.

Which is why they’re now taking turns scratching out a massive diagram on the cave floor with sticks…Well, a stick and a small tree. They’d been trading words back and forth for a good two hours now. As best as he could tell, the Giant’s language was actually quite simple—consisting mainly of nouns, verbs, descriptors, and modifiers to those two things. It wasn’t particularly elegant, but it was versatile enough.

They’d started with things that were easily drawn-out or mimed: things like “person,” “me,” “you.” There was sort of a pronoun system, and the Giant…seemed to be a “he,” or an equivalent. Then they’d tried to build from there—he’d figured out some of the verbs, and how to phrase things as a question, and from there the two of them had hit it off. Now he was trying to get the guy up to speed, because everything would be a whole lot easier if they knew what was going on.

“So…[me-category-] human.” He points to the crude little figure of a human he’s drawn, and the Giant nods along.

How to explain the war…? “Humans [-planet-creation-positive-] Earth.” He points to the rough map of the world they’ve drawn out, then to the Giant’s rather detailed drawing of a kaiju. “[Planet-creation-negative-] Earth.”

They lean down a little closer to the drawing. “Quintesson,” he says with what sounds like outright distaste. Ulchtar’s a little taken aback by that.

“[Question.] Quintesson [-them. Name?]”

“[Name-positive.] Quintessons [negative-negative-negative.]” They confirm. Okay, triple negatives, so this guy hated the damned things just as much as anyone else. Maybe it wasn’t just Earth under siege…?

“Quintessons [motion-inside] Earth…[creation-negative] humans.” He’s painfully aware of his limited vocabulary, hoping it’s enough to get the point across. The Giant seems to pick up on the intent, tensing up just a little.

He continues. “Humans…[Eyes-positive-you. Humans-creation-negative, desire-negative.] So... [negative-brain-do-positive-you. Creations-do-similar.]” We found you. We didn’t want to die. We studied you. Tried to make things like you.

The Giant whirls towards him at that, picking him up to hold him at eye level. The grip is just tight enough to hurt, just enough to feel like a threat. “[You…complete-negative-me?]”

Ulchtar waves his hands in front of his face frantically, mortified. Oh, he’s really fucked up this time. He didn’t realize the Giant remembered getting taken apart like that. “[M-me-do-negative! Complete-positive-repeat!]” He sputtered. I put you back together!

It wasn’t technically a lie. He hadn’t exactly done it out of the kindness of his heart, but it wasn’t a lie.

The glare softens just a bit, the grip relaxing. He's not in immediate risk of death anymore.

They keep talking for a few hours, until it gets too dark to really see what he's doing anymore.

He hmms, trying to think of the right words…

“Uh…” He points up at the sliver of sky above them. “[Sky. Light-negative. Me-vision-negative.]”

“[…Recharge-you? Eyes-positive-me.]” He was offering to keep watch while Ulchtar slept, he mentally translated.

He nodded, fumbling mentally to figure out how to respond to that. “[…Gratitude-positive.]”

Then, another thought occurred to him. “[You. Name. Question?]”

The Giant paused for a second at that, wings drooping just a little bit. “[…name-knowledge-negative. Memory-negative-negative.]”

…oh.

Ulchtar can’t help but feel a little bad for asking now. He tries to shift the topic a bit, pointing to himself. “[Me. Name.] Ulchtar.”

That gets a tilt of the head. “[You. Name. Sound-similar…Star-sound-positive-positive-pitch-positive?]” In this language, the name and the phrase do sound kind of alike, actually. He laughs at that.  

“Star…scream? [Desire-name. Name-sound-positive-positive-positive.]” He adds three positives for emphasis, because it does sound way more badass than “Ulchtar.”

The ground shakes just slightly, and he realizes the Giant is laughing.

Don't get too attached, he reminds himself. They could betray you any second. He's just as dangerous as these Quintessons if he wants to be.

“Oh, knock it off…” He curls up on a relatively comfy-looking patch of cave moss, bundling himself up in some extra clothes in lieu of anything warmer. The cave’s warmer than outside, but still a bit chilly even with the ambient heat from the Giant’s engines heating it up.

It doesn’t stop him from eventually slipping into sleep.

-----------------------

The mech with no name shifts his weight just a little, trying to get comfortable in his hiding spot among the mountains. It’s not much—just a little nook in the rocks where it’s tough to spot him—but it’s better than being out in the open, as badly as he wants to stretch out his wings and fly again.

He doesn’t want to put the human—Starscream—Ulchtar—in danger.

Ulchtar’s the only companion he has in this world right now, after all.

So he’s probably going to stick with him for a bit—in no small part because he really doesn’t know where else he’d go. Most of his memory is long since corrupted, throwing him all kinds of errors whenever he tries to think back to before.

He knows, in broad strokes, what he is. He knows he’s a mechanical lifeform. He knows he’s a shapeshifter of some sort. He knows he can fly, and is probably designed to explore space. He knows what the parts inside of him are—what a spark is and that he needs to drink energon to survive. He knows the Quintessons want him dead.

But he doesn’t know who he is. His name. Where he came from. What his own species is called…

Does he have a species?

This whole world was filled with organic life, and nothing else—it was clear that the other machines he’d seen in that laboratory weren’t alive, but rather artificial constructs. They resembled him, but only superficially. He can’t feel their sparks, let alone any sort of EM field—something even the organics of this world have, albeit very faint ones.

Which leaves him with a very frightening question.

Am I alone?

His internal clock is telling him he’s been on this planet for six million years, trapped in stasis.

Surely someone must’ve looked for him, right? One of his kind, maybe? Surely six million years would’ve been long enough for a search party to find him.

If nobody had ever come looking for him, then…then either there was nobody left to send, or he’d mattered so little that nobody had ever bothered to remember him.

He wasn’t sure which hurt more: being alone, or being nobody.

Something wet drips onto his face.

Terrible time for rain, he thinks to himself.

But when he looks up, there’s not a cloud in the sky.

How odd…

He brushes it away, trying not to think about the question hanging over his head.

The night after that is largely uneventful, up until he notices a strange blue-green light on the horizon.

He pokes his head through the entrance. Was dawn supposed to come this early? Was it usually that color?

-----------------------

When he’s exhausted, Ulchtar is a pretty heavy sleeper.

That said, the fact that the Giant doesn’t wake him up when he moves away is still damned impressive. No, he only wakes up when it starts getting cold again. Still groggy, it takes him a few seconds to realize his vanished from his spot—something that makes him snap awake instantly in a panic.

He looked up towards the surface. Had he been abandoned? Was the Giant going back to—

Oh.

He sees his companion’s winged silhouette just beyond the mouth of the cave, illuminated in blue and green and violet.

He’s staring at something.

Ulchtar creeps closer, and quickly understands why. There’s an aurora snaking across the sky in full force above the mountains, and the Giant watches in wonder.

His wings twitch when Ulchtar draws near, as if sensing him somehow. “Starscream [recharge-positive?]” He asks. It seems like the nickname is sticking.

“[Recharge-positive],” he agrees. It’s another half-truth; he was sleeping fine until he got cold.

The Giant points up at the aurora, looking very confused. “[Occurrence. Name. Question?]”

“Aurora borealis.”

“[Common-positive? Threat-positive? Question?]”

“[Common-negative. Threat-negative.]” Ulchtar assures him.

He seems to relax a bit at that. “[Eye-similar…sky-heat-positive-light-positive.]”

“Yeah, kinda…” He really does not have the vocabulary to explain how the hell an aurora works. "The sky set itself on fire" is as good an explanation as any.

They nod along. “[Vision…positive-positive-positive.]”

That’s a lot of words to say “it’s pretty,” Ulchtar thinks to himself with a little smile, but jolts when his friend’s wings suddenly flatten against his back, an expression of…something like recognition on his face.

“[Name. Me. Memory-negative-now-positive. Sky-heat-positive-light-positive!]” He puts his hands together and looks to Ulchtar almost expectantly, as if he wants him to try translating this name too.

"...Skyfire," he decides after a few seconds.

The look "Skyfire" gives him at that...He's trying his best not to get attached, to do his best impression of a chessmaster moving his pawns around, but by God, if push came to shove he would kill for that smile.

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 5: Dread

Okay, so another smut chapter... Meh, it's okay, a little treat for you. And a little angst, but we covered that in the last one too. Hope you guys like this, we're halfway, yay! (Remember that there's an epilogue, so don't worry). Let me know what you think, and send requests if you want to <33

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I walk inside, seeing Chris and Ashley sitting on the sofa. Chris is leaned over, head in his hands, while Ash is curled up like a ball, silent tears streaming down her face. I look around, red balloons are tied to the railings of the stairs, and the area is lit up by a bunch of candles. “Have you guys looked for Sam yet?” I ask, my voice still hoarse. Chris doesn’t acknowledge me, but Ashley shakes her head in response. I walk up the stairs, noticing that the balloons have painted arrows on them. I walk to the bathroom door, knocking lightly. 

“Sam?”

Luckily, the door is unlocked, and I open it. Half of the candles are still lit, but there’s no trace of her. The bath is not drained, and her clothes are gone. I look around, but there’s nothing else. I look under the chair, seeing only one sock. She must’ve gotten dressed quickly if she didn’t remember all of it. Maybe she saw something, or heard something. I step in some water near the door. I look down, noticing faint footsteps on the hardwood floor. Did she not dry off? The prints lead down the stairs, then another set. Before making my way down, I look over at the other two. They’re still in the same positions on the sofa, and I decide not to bother them. If something happens, they can still hear me. 

The doors to the cinema are closed, and I do my best to part them as quietly as possible. The room is dark and silent, and I make my way further in. On the ground are some broken shards. They look like they’re from a vase or ornament. The door further in is wide open, leading deeper into the cellar. I walk through the hallway, looking for scratches or blood, but I can’t find anything. I continue walking past a bedroom and down the concrete stairs. There is no more water to follow, so I have to rely on my instincts. I turn on my phone, switching on the flashlight. I get to the machine where we turned on the warm water. Everything seems in order, except for a baseball bat lying in the middle of the floor. I pick it up, looking for any kind of damage. It looks fine, no blood. I don't, however, put it down. If the maniac decides to attack, I will need a weapon. 

I walk further into the cellar, noticing a large fallen shelf in front of a heavy door. I look back, thinking about Ashley and Chris. I should head back, and we should go through this together. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I continue my descent. Room by room is empty, no sign of struggle and battle. This does not seem worth it. There’s nothing here. Sam must’ve gone a different way. I’m about to turn back when I hear the familiar sound of summing. Old computers and clicking. I hold my breath, and kneel down. Shit shit shit. I should’ve turned back earlier, but maybe, if he doesn’t know that I’m coming, I have a chance at getting back at him. 

I carefully and silently make my way to where the sound is coming from. Turning off my light and creeping to the blue and white rays. I look between planks, and I see him. Long dark hair, probably part of his mask. He’s looking at several screens, one over the bathroom, and many other places in the lodge. I see one with Ashley and Chris. They’ve made their way to the cinema, looking at the shards I noticed earlier. As I turn off my phone, a shutting sound escapes it. Fuck. I kneel down, holding it closely to my chest. I hear him shifting, before starting to walk. I hold my breath, not moving. 

“What do we have here?” he asks, and I do my best to stay silent. 

“Oh come out, come out”. I put a hand over my mouth, tears already forming in the corners of my eyes. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die. I want to go home. I wish I never came here to begin with. Suddenly, I hear Josh’s voice. 

“Help me!”

My breath hitches, eyes widening. No, no. I saw him die, but… What if it was all a trick. Maybe part of the sick game this guy is playing. I have to check. I slowly lean upwards, looking into the workshop again, but the Psycho is gone. I stand up, trying to hear out for any form of sounds. My eyes widen as I hear him. Behind me. He’s fucking behind me. I swing the bat, hitting a machine out of his hands. I’m about to hit him again, but he grabs the bat in the air, wiggling it out of my hands and throwing it on the ground. 

“No, no, no, please” I plead, getting cornered by him. He grabs me, turning me around, back against his chest. 

“No, no, no!” I yell, hoping that the others hear me. He puts his hand over my mouth, the other holding both of my hands behind me. 

“You need to calm down.” I stop struggling as I hear it. Josh. Josh’s voice. HIS voice, coming from this man. I slowly turn around, and he lets me. I take a look at him, seeing his olive skin hands, rough, with a few scratches. He reaches up to his mask, slowly taking it off. 

“Josh” I whisper, the sound barely coming out. He’s holding his arms up, almost as if scared that I’m going to run. I’m stunned, taking long breaths to keep myself standing. Confusion coats me as I try to make sense of the situation. Am I dreaming? 

“You’re dead?” 

“I’m not”

“The Psycho, you, are you the maniac?” 

“You need to listen to me”

“N-no, no. Absolutely not. What the hell Josh?” I yell, pushing him off me. He’s still close, refusing to give me space. 

“Keep your voice down!”

“No, I’m not going to ‘keep my fucking voice down’ Josh!” 

He moves a hand over my mouth, looking deeply into my eyes. I look down at the machine, smoke coming out of it. There’s a mask attached. He follows my gaze, looking down at the equipment. 

“Look, I know what this looks like, but I can explain.” I nod, urging him to continue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks around before taking hold of me and leading me to another room. It’s not as dusty as the others, and it has a sofa and some more plain furniture. There’s a little fridge in the corner, as well as some shelves. He sits me down, before walking to get the machine and closing the door. 

“You were dead Josh, I saw you being split in two…” I start, already hurting from the memory. 

“This…” I point to the red marks on my sweater. “This is your blood Josh, I…”

“It’s not”

“I cried over you, I mourned you. We all did…”

“I know this seems a bit extreme” he says, hands moving up my arms for comfort. I shove him away. 

“You faked your own death? You put your best friend in such a terrible situation…”

“You weren’t supposed to be here” he states, his voice harsher. 

“Oh?” I stand up. “So that makes all of this okay then? You were only going to traumatise the others, making Chris think that he’s the reason you’re dead?”

“Listen-”

“You moved the piece on the ouija board. Do you know how disrespectful that is to your sisters’ memory Josh!”

“I’m doing this for them!” he interrupts me, also standing up, face against mine. I get where he comes from, I do, but this is too far.

“I get it, we’re all hurting, but they did not mean for any of that to happen. No one wanted these things to happen.” He looks down, defeated almost. I place my hands on him, touching his clothing, making sure that he’s actually under there. He’s alive, Josh’s alive. I keep reminding myself. 

“I thought I’d lost you too” I whisper, my voice almost not recognizable. His arms fold around me, and he places a kiss on my forehead. I lean up, meeting his lips, and kissing roughly. My lips are chapped and bloody, and my body is tired and exhausted. I lean into him, fully relaxing. Finally, I’m calm. 

“Please stop this thing Josh, I don’t think this is good for you”

“Fine”

“Really? I look up, meeting his gaze. He smiles, caressing my cheek with his hand. His smile seems forced, but I take it. As long as he doesn’t continue with this. 

“I will.” I hug him again, arms travelling under his shirt behind his overalls. This is his skin, his body. He’s alive. It seems too good to be true. He sits down, guiding me to sit on top of him. I place myself upon him, arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. Tears start running down my face again, but none of us notice, too consumed with each other. He grabs hold of my thighs, switching us around, making me lay flat on the sofa. His body trapping mine underneath him. 

“I just-” I start, but he shuts me up with another kiss. My tears keep running, hopefully cleaning off the blood and ash on my face. His hands wander, caressing every inch of me. I feel myself warming up, but we cannot do this now. Everyone is scared, scared that they’re going to die, and I’m making out with the culprit. But… He’s okay. Josh is okay, he’s not dead. And I need to feel that he’s still here. One of his hands goes straight for my clit, rubbing soft circles through my pants. 

“Fuck” I whisper, already wet for him. The excitement of everything, but then suddenly melting makes me feel safer and protected. 

“So this is what I get if I scare you enough?” he asks, smirking against my lips. 

“Hell, you can have all of me Josh, just come clean and-”

His hand makes its way under my panties, leading me to stop mid-sentence. I give a loud moan, and his other hand makes its way to my mouth. 

“You’re gonna be good? There’ll be no sounds coming out of you, got it?”

I nod, pressing my lips together as he shoves a finger inside me. I struggle, grabbing his shoulders to let my frustration out another way. My core starts building up, heat and release aching to be freed. I come over his hands, letting out a loud whimper as I do, unable to silence myself. He looks up, shaking his head. 

“Guess we’ll have to go again” he whispers. 

“Josh, don’t get me wrong, I love this, but we really should go- fuck” I squeak as starts circling again. He uses his other hand to drag all my lower clothing to my knees, before making his way between my thighs, leaving kisses all over. My breath hitches, muffled sounds coming out as he takes a long lick over my folds. My legs shake as he keeps going, the hotness of his breath making me reach the second orgasm even faster. I try with all will and might to keep my mouth shut, but a little whine escapes past my hand-covered lips. Instead of acknowledging it, he keeps going, riding out my high on his fingers and tongue. My breathing has never been as quick as it is now, legs are giving out, and I start feeling dizzy from the overstimulation. I come a third time, embarrassingly fast, and I hear him chuckle against me. 

“Josh, I-I can’t” I try, my words failing me. I look over, and he’s locked in, fascinated. 

“If you can still talk, you can take some more” he comments, immediately going in again. I whine, feeling the hot pain travel upwards. It’s like my body’s not even mine anymore. I lose feeling in my legs and they get heavy as I put all their weight on his back, not being able to hold them up anymore. 

All the excitement, lack of sleep, sex, and this? Everything leads to my body shutting down, almost not being able to move. I’m so tired, exhausted. 

“Fuck” I whimper as I come a fourth time, soul leaving my body and mind blurry. 

“Can you stand?”

“What?”

“Lift your hands for me”

I look confused at him, mouth breathing heavily and exhaustion overcoming. His lips are covered in me, glistening in the little light. I try to lift my arm, and I manage, but it goes painfully slow. My mind is still fogged, lungs trying for oxygen at their best capacity. 

“Gosh, I love you like this. All helpless, not being able to do anything” he whispers, leaning over me. I don’t know how to respond, just using my lips to signal that I want a kiss. I want him. He’s alive, my beautiful Josh is alive, and I can’t shake the thought off. He leans down kissing me, while his arms fiddle with something behind me. 

“I’m sorry” he whispers against my lips, quickly pulling away. 

“Wha-”

He presses a mask on my face, forcing me to inhale the smoke. The world becomes dizzy, and my vision is blurred. 

“I’ve been planning this too long, I can’t stop now.”

[petalsonmoon]

one touch but you felt enough... you are in love.

(writing so i don’t think about the manga. for the wellness of my mental health. thank you for reading <3)

there's this thing shouto does

it's all too fresh. you can't even tell what you guys are.

shoto is a very sincere yet blank person. you can't read in his expression what he's feeling nor can you interpret his little actions. but if you ask him what he thinks about something he’ll express his opinion in the most clear and gentle way possible.

the course to what you both are now it's werdly cute. you noticed this little something he did because, well, who didn't notice the presence of shouto todoroki? he's the personification of kindness and quietude and tranquility. turns out these definitions created the most beautiful person you've ever seen.

and by noticing the details you noticed the overall and by doing that you two ended up getting closer and closer. you could rely on him to come to your dorm to tell you dinner was ready and be right there by your side during it and you would find him during his training or studing sessions to give him a water bottle. you would’ve thought that with a quirk like that he'd remember to drink it, right? he didn't.

you two would find easement in each others patience and honesty. it's actually being there for each other and not jumping any steps and boundaries that made you two unintentionally friends.

so on third year todoroki, being his straghforwardly serene person that he was, appeared in your dorm and cofessed to you how he had an affection for you for quite some time now, how much your time together was heightening to being the most comfortable he's been with someone and asked you if you wanted to stay by his side from now on.

those were his words. like, c'mon.

so you said yes. that you very much feel much calmer in his presence and would be absolutely happy to be by his side.

that was 2 weeks ago.

since then you noticed this little thing he did.

which is funny, to perceive a slight action from someone whose words were his main character.

and you wait for it to happen at least three times before saying anything.

right now you were in the communal space, sitting in the sofa while your remaining colleagues were still stretching after a 2 hour movie and chatting the plot away,

it was summer so the air conditioner was on. a few glasses with only ice could be found on the coffee table.

you were next to shoto, by his right, smuggled between him and furniture’s arm. you turn to look at him and gets irritated how his profile is so fucking powerful.

“do you like fantasy movies?” you whisper to him. he thinks about it for a moment.

“i like them” he replies, gazing down at his hands. “but they’re not my preference.”

“and what would that be?” you start fidgeting with your fingers, very slighly.

he takes a deep breath and squint his eyes for a second. he turns his eyes to you and you have to seriously fight your lungs to not hold it’s breath just because your heat leaped a beat.

“romcoms.” he says under his breath, expression clearly blank.

you pinched your lips trying not to let the chuckle escape. it makes sense, actually.

“can i ask why?”

“they’re very entertaning.” he comteplates softly “not too much going on but you can always have a great time and even a good laugh.”

he finishes his thought and looks away, satisfied. you can’t help but feel your body sink in fondness.

“that’s true. they’re always nice.” you reply.

“what about you?”

“my favorite genre?”

he nods and looks at you again.

“i would say...” you look down and think how you’d already know the answer. would he think less of you for being too different from his likes? “drama? with a bit of suspense in it?”

he nods in response and you don’t feel his eyes on your face anymore. you’re both looking at your hands.

“it makes sense.” he concludes after a moment and you look up at him, intrigued. “they’re always very interesting.”

tou let the little smile in your mouth win and checks around discretely, after seeing only a few people far in the kitchen you leave a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

the little smile also make an appearance on his face for a millisecond.

 “i also really like animation.” You say.

his eyebrows go up for a second. “yes, some of them are really impressive.”

“they have a way to make hugs so beautiful and comforting...” you let it out before even thinking. that’s just how comforting it was being with him.

“oh. the studio ghibli embraces, isn’t it?” he completes.

“yes! it’s really profound somehow and sometimes a hug like that is all you need.” you look away and shiver. it is hot but you did not go well with air conditioners. the temperature people tend to feel content at usually was the same one where you needed to be in a hoodie. but that was a unimportant fact that would die with you.

“hm” he replies “i think princess mononoke is my favorite one...”

“it makes sense.”

he turns to you once again, expressionless. “does it?”

“uhum.” you feel your body shivering again “it’s very humane and important...”

“what else?” he whisper.

“and emotional and romantic... it’s perfect, really.” you hold his gaze, already wanting to stay there forever.

and then he does it.

right when you conclude your description you feel his fingertips slowly touching yours with such tenderness and delicacy you’d almost miss it, if you didn’t also automatically felt your body warming up to the exact condition for you to feel perfectly comfortable.

“oh, shouto...” you let it espace, feeling like you could cry. you didn’t say a word about your issue but he noticed. he noticed you.

he interlocks your fingers and takes your knuckles to his mouth, placing a warm and short kiss there.

“it seems to me that it’s your favorite movie too.”

you move your free hand and position it in the back of his head, your fingers starts moving sweetly and he closes his eyes.

you take the opportunity to kiss him. he immediately responds and kisses you completely. his kiss is slow and patient and sure and you feel yourself melting in your feelings for him. your hand on his head makes sure to intensify the kiss and shoto lets a delicious and lovely sound escape his throat.

you pull back for a second. “i’m feeling a bit lightheaded.”

his eyebrowls furrowing and his eyes sparkling.

“like i’m in a romcom.”

[sturnsrecord]

hey guys, I rlly wanna start writing for another au but I’m not sure which one of my ideas to begin on [bc I can’t start them all at the same time]. so I thought I’d share my ideas and you could vote.

[also I will be continuing ctmw, I just struggle to write when I’m not locked in].

— bsf!matt x reader at college. this one’s description is already on my masterlist bc it’s my only matt one. but this is an idea that I’ve had for literal months about them being roommates who basically have a threesome with another girl and then probs become friends with benifits. I’ve basically made the entire story line in my head.

— fratboy!chris x confident!reader. this is where they become friends bc they’re low-key similar and it would be like a slow burn of them not getting together, even though they want to. but like they’re not admitting it bc they’re both stubborn. [I feel like I don’t wanna do this one yet bc there’s already a lot of amazing works by @sturnioz with fratboy!chris — and Ik she didn’t invent it but like, obviously I’ve taken inspiration from that].

— stepbro!chris x reader. this one is morally a bit of a grey area for some ppl, which is why I’ve been hesitant to write abt it. it would also be a slight enemies to lovers deal. [but not cringy I promise]. and I think it would be quite a fucked up story, but like I rlly wanna write a fucked up story… for some reason.

— also completely forgot this but I would be down to do bbf!matt x reader. [brothers best friend]. but yet again @sturnioz has written some stuff for that and I wouldn’t wanna accidentally copy that. [obviously my storyline would be different]. can u tell I love sturnioz??

anyways, those are my jumbled ideas. some are clearly more thought out than others, but I’d appreciate an opinion of what u guys wanna read. also it’s not gonna be started instantly, and it might not even be the one voted most — I just wanted to share what I have planned xx

[chasedeys]

hi hello i keep thinking about joemarr being fwb at lsu but it never turns into anything until they’re playing together on the bengals and they’re a little older and more mature. but when they think too much about what their relationship is they realize they’ve been in love this entire time and neither of them want to be the one to admit it </3

oh hellooo!!!! this is sooo??? i would love!!!!! to hear more of your thoughts on this fwb au!!!!!! insane little tidbit of them not realizing they're actually together are you in my headddd are you planning on writing a fic?? please say yes 🫶

i have. so many thoughts. on fwb joemarr 😔 and all of it is angst. which i don't write. but just the way i have this in my drafts 😭 please don't ask why i never actually reblogged it

i know i said i have thoughts on this fwb au but in all honesty it's very jumbled it's a mess it's unfinished it has a beginning and a little point in the middle and literally no end. but i'd like to expand on it anyway! so:

like 20% knowledge of their lsu timeline sorry (i wish i knew more of their roster btw :(( this would make writing this entire thing easier and more detailed) but midway through their undefeated season when they're finally getting way more comfortable outside of the field, a post-game party in one of the seniors' house, drinking, partying etc, they weren't exactly attached at the hip that time yk still slowly learning how to be friends instead of just teammates, learning how to joke with each other, learning what makes the other tick etc. they end up seated together at a table with the rest of the guys, table small enough and crowded enough they're pressed right up against one another but it's casual you know they're bros completely normal to have your arms touching as you yell at one of the guys to chug etc etc. they just end up staying close the whole time—yapping at one another, jeering at others together, ganging up on justin that one time, weirdly sharing personal things with each other in the middle of a crowd when no one was paying attention to them, smiling at each other dopily for a weirdly long time like for some strange reason, that night they clicked in ways never before outside of the field?? like that moment ja'marr said they both clicked on the field for the first time ever, but this time in the middle of someone's dining room, pressed ankles to shoulders to each other, also in the middle of the loud cheers of their teammates, breath seemingly in one space from how close they were together.

the crowd dwindles but they stick close together, joe has his arm around ja'marr like he usually does at times when his adrenaline is high but this time it's just because he just wants to (not that he fully understands why), ja'marr is quiet because he's sleepy so he just follows wherever joe is dragging him, and they're walking out the house with some of the guys, someone is singing ballads loudly and incoherently for some reason, and joe's house is close by, so they stop there and ja'marr is just following in like a dumbass because he's so fucking buzzed but he feels safe with his quarterback so who gives a shit if he's intruding. none of the other really say anything because, hey why not their star qb and their little wide receiver seem like they'd follow the other anywhere really at this point so have at it. and they're hollering the two goodbye as they walk away and now joe and ja'marr are just alone together in joe's modest little rental and it's quiet and comfy and they're grinning at each other dopily for the nth time and then somehow the most natural progression for them is for joe to offer ja'marr the bed and ja'marr to scoff and say they should just share like hell either of them is fucking up their back on the shitty couch and then they're brushing their teeth in joe's modest bathroom side-by-side and joe is offering him some sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in and ja'marr is just staring blankly down at the faded spongebob t-shirt handed to him while joe is rambling at him how he has just one pillow so do you want to rock paper scissors this or—they kiss 🤗

like you could say ja'marr dropped the t-shirt and stepped right into joe's space and kissed him or you could say joe trailed off mid-sentence because he got so fucking distracted by his wr being shirtless in his bedroom in his sweats staring down at his shirt with those stupid lashes that he reached out an arm to reel him in to kiss him or you could say they just decided right then right there they wanted the other in no other way than like that that they both did the stupidest thing they could possibly do mid-season and kiss their teammate and undress them and shove them toward the bed and climb on top of them and grind down against them and—

they completely blacked out unfortunately for their first time 😔 joe woke up first with his face tucked into ja'marr's neck and he groggily untangles himself without clocking how or why they're like this and he sits up and looks blankly down at ja'marr spread eagle snoring in his bed wearing nothing that he could see and covered in bitemarks and promptly untangles himself away from the bed and out the door and into his bathroom to freak the fuck out by himself. got himself together somehow and starts making pancakes (? does he cook. i don't actually know.) because fuck if this ruins anything between them or their chances of winning the natty his one-track-minded-ness and sheer determination to win saves them tbh. ja'marr wakes up alone but joe's clanging pans in the kitchen so he knows damn well someone's outside and he knows this is joe's bedroom and all those clothes strewn around is both of theirs and the splitting headache and sore everything doesn't stop him from realizing that holy fuck they slept together. frantically tugging yesterday's clothes on, panic mounting like crazy, probably crying too, and stopping right in front of the closed door with his head pressed against the wood feeling like everything is falling apart. he musters up the courage to walk out anyway and he can't read joe as well as he does now while joe's putting up a frigid front through sheer stubbornness when he's also freaking the fuck out inside especially when he comes face to face with an ashen-faced ja'marr clearly crying too.

there should be like more after this like hooking up only sometimes, growing closer and attributing it to how they're also fucking now but is it really all there is to it. they completely sidestep that initial awkwardness because what else could they do they got a game to win a championship to get to. they get sooooo much better on the field making each other look stupid good etc etc. and throughout this shit show of sleeping with each other they have talked about it just once and that was to say 'I don't think im gay but' and how there's 'no harm' in continuing the way they do. yeah.

things come to a stop after the natty of course, they don't see each other as often because joe's getting ready for his combine (?????) etc i don't actually know what goes on after tbh but basically they grow apart, joe moves out of nola back to ohio, gets into cincy, gets injured, etc. i think i could add like more to this entire arc (?? what fucking arc) but no thoughts rn tbh. oh but this little period is also where they come to terms with their sexuality!! being apart for a whole year, learning how to be somebody without the other, exploring other options, settling firmer on who they are, etc.

ja'marr gets into bengals, and things don't really start up again at first because they don't really feel like it? like they're still relearning who the other is after all these months apart? like it was just really genuinely casual to them they either fuck or they don't, it was a bit of fun, they aren't going crazy when they see each other again because to them it didn't really mean much of anything other than a bit of fun between friends! but there's some totally insane underlying feelings that they don't realize of course. the emotional roller coaster of ja'marr's preseason drops getting attacked left and right, joe steadfast in his belief in ja'marr comforting him (there's totally a high tensioned scene of this where they're just shy of something but ja'marr was too fucked up about his drops for it to actually come to anything), then their first game together first nfl touchdown 🫶

they might fuck again after that? but to be completely honest i have nothing else to add to this. maybe some angst of them starting up again and then stopping because suddenly it got...weird? because they're starting to realize oh wow hey what i'm feeling for you is not casual stuff. theres a little 'hey i don't think we should do this again tbh like let's focus more on the sb now that we're yk in the nfl we're not dumb kids anymore' or something idk but mostly i want them to agree not to fuck again untilll ->

this one fucking sceneeee that honestly kickstarted this entire thing but basically post sb loss they just slow-dance to the first time ever i saw your face by roberta flack. this just would notttt leave my minddd. they just dance slow and intimate in the middle of joe's living room. and it's like. after they lost the superbowl. after ja'marr dragged his ass out to the get him out of his head and after a whole day of just getting drunk of their asses and drinking away their feelings very manfully and fucked-upped-ly. they spill out their uber to joes house but they can't sleep and they just. start up the radio that's annoyingly repeating the superbowl fuckery and they just keep switching the station until they end up weirdly in this obscure one where the host is saying something completely unintelligible and then the song's opening instrumentals start up and of the sudden they're just wrapped around one another in the middle of joe's living room.

and then they're just in each others arms and staring deeply into the others eyes and still trying to deal with the loss and this uncertainty between them as roberta flack croons the first time i ever kissed your mouth i felt the earth move in my hand like the trembling heart of a captive bird that was there at my command my love and i just feel sooo fucked up over it. staying rooted in one place on joe's ridiculous rug just wrapped up in one another neither able to say a word the radio conveniently shutting off just dead air until boom who knows kissed who first they just end up in bed together like all those times before.

and its the first time in a while that they actually sleep together again after their pact to not do it again! and the thing is it's good this time! it isn't like any of the other times they slept together and pretended everything was fine and made the stupid conclusion that it was bad for them! i mean it was because they didn't really talk about it if they did it would be great you know but. this time they feel settled! they actually cuddle unashamedly in the afternoon that they woke up! had brunch together with the food that's usually delivered around that time for joe! made very distinct training plans together, fired up for the next season and trying again for a ring etc etc actually making plans for the future together basically.

AND THIS COULD END HERE OKAY like they have full blown realization and actual conversation that oh. this is it. this is literally the it that they've been avoiding for some reason and oh my future is literally you and not just on the field as a quarterback or a receiver or a teammate but you as something so definitive for me that there is literally no other way this could end other than us being together! totally could end here but!! in a separate timeline by which i mean if i could make it wayyy angstier than it needs to be:

like everything is niceeee, everything is hot and horny it's crazy they keep doing things together they've never thought of doing with anybody else! but they're not fucking talking even when they keep getting feelings and freaking out in the most random of moments over the other (hence the posts up top) and then burying their feelings down the next second because they think the other doesn't feel the same and think that what they have going on is enough. really. it is.

okay so like this fwb fic in my head is actually. way longer. like as in ja'marr trades out of cincy longer 😭 just they just keep pretending everything is fine and dandy and that shit is sooo not good for them and this actually ends in ja'marr being unable to handle all his feelings and running away leaving cincy lmaooooo sooo sorry (no idea if they won a sb before ja'marr left or not lmao which would be more fucked up do you think). i feel like i should expand more on why this ends up that way but i can't. which is like why this is never going to be a full fic 😭. it's kind of like that one time i mentioned this in an ask sort of inspired by bad bunny's cloud 9 'you will always be my favorite form of loving' 😃.

this is honestly mostly because of another slow dancing scene i can't get out of my head :")) they slow dance one last time before the news officially breaks out the next day to hey that's no way to say goodbye roberta flack ver. jesus sorry im in my feelings with her sooo sorry but look at the lyricsssss do you get me

I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm And your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm Many loved before us, I know we are not new And in city and in forest they loved like me and you But now it's come to distances, both of us must try Your eyes fill with sorrow Hey, that's no way to say goodbye I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time Walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme You know my heart goes with you, your love stays with me It's just the way life changes, like the shoreline of the sea But let's not talk of love or change, things we can untie Your eyes fill with sorrow Hey, that's no way to say goodbye

ja'marr trades to another team, the nfl actually set them up against each other for week 5 and so they finally see each other again after that one last dance where they didn't hook up btw to add to the misery. they fall into bed again after whoever the fuck won i have no idea and. fought......fucked each other up beyond repair.........

i don't actually know how the story would progress after :) so sorry. it's like my mind stopped right there and theres no end in sight to their misery hurt no comfort etc. but if it's any consolation i do think i would end this not fic im not writing with ja'marr trading back to cincy and they finally make up officially and win a sb together <3 (the i love you post up top is set during their first match up btw so they got way too fucked up about it because?? you fucking left me for another team??? and fought etc but the love is there ofc so they called each other and made up etc)

on another handdd i also have thoughts for a completely different fwb au where they aren't freaked out at all btw. like no life changing thing about it they just go on with their lives like 'oh we're fucking now? of course we are' because they're soooo comfortable with each other they don't need to freak out about it or talk about it they know each other why would trusting the other with something as intimate as sex be anything bad. it feels food! it's fun! they love how they are in the bedroom together! and their relationship just progresses naturally to actually being together in an actual relationship because of course! they go on these dates anyhow what's more with feelings involved?

joe thinking 'oh I'm in love with you' as ja'marr unpacks their uber eats for them on joe's living room where they plan on binge-watching star trek discovery rambling about every little thing he could think of and then just nodding and going on with his life helping ja'marr unpack and needling him for his pickiness with food. ja'marr thinking 'oh I'm in love with you' as joe fusses over the new chrome hearts catalog that ja'marr showed him trying to pick over their new matching jackets or something and then just nodding and going on with his life telling joe to shut the fuck up he is not wearing that pick something else. pressing foreheads after the second orgasm of the night and just staring at one another and quietly letting out their first i-love-yous and then grinning at each other and laughing and rolling around on the bed trying to be the first to kiss the other after that bombshell and going on with their lives deciding if they want to move in together, if they want to tell their parents at the same time to save the hassle, if they should finally bring tee out of his misery of pretending they aren't together no matter what tee says, etc etc. just one without angst because they trust the other so much it really isn't difficult at all.

oh and there's this lovelyyyyyy bit of one night stand thing during the natty championship that @cementcornfield cooked up that i am sooo obsessed with that you should definitely read if you haven't!!!

sorry if any of this doesn't make sense or the grammar is shit btw 😭 but i would loveeeeeeeeeee to read more on this ask you sent!! tell me all about your ideas!!!!! please <3

[ploppymeep]

I drew him but it kinda sucks, I will have to practice more at drawing him,

Anyway I just find him interesting and anything you want to say about him I would be happy with, I just want to examine him under a microscope he is that kind of character to me

IJUST. ACTUALLY SCREAMED IRL92):;)&::&$:/:7 YOU DREWW HIM SOOOOO FUCKINGFFFR CUTE i’m gunna cry ohmy goodness

since you drew him in the western au outfit i suppose ill give a little context for that max specifically!! ok so, maxy is (obviously) a trans man in every different au, and in this one he was the only daughter of a wealthy family that owned a large ranch. in the beginning before the horrors [which i’ll get to in a second] he starts kind of like every other max he’s just kind of an annoying spoiled brat who really only cares for himself and is just generally an asshole. the only person he really likes is his personal butler eden [@\tacticalvulva ‘s oc] who he grew up with. their relationship is kind of like, if eden was assigned to do something else for the day like run errand or something and one of the other butlers was supposed to tend to max for the day he’d be like “NO i want EDEN where is HE? hes the only one that knows how to do things RIGHT” cause hes very particular and also a brat [+ the autissmm… his routine]

anyways, because his parents “had no son” they set up max in an arranged marriage with Richard [ @/grfld101 ‘s oc] max was, well, furious when he found out and had a melt down. he thought it was unfair and was mortified by the idea of having to just be someone’s wife for the rest of his life. a big reason why this freaked him out asside from obvious reasons is that max has a very big complex surrounding control, he likes having everything and everyone around him EXACTLY how he likes it and the thought of losing any form of control/ having to sort of have his life dictated by someone else [EX: Parents, a husband] makes him want to die.

anyways fast forward to him actually meeting richard, he fucking HATES this guys guts automatically and is genuinely just incredibly rude towards him/ doesn’t give him the light of day, and will even order eden to do stupid shit like poor a bucket of water on him. anyways this goes on for awhile and one day max and rich are told to go on like a leisurely horse ride together to “get to know your future spouse” or whatever and he is NOT pleased. after maybe 20 minutes of silence he would say something along the lines of this in a very haughty voice,“you know im only out here because my PARENTS forced me to. if it were up to me i wouldn’t even be within one mile of you” really annoying turns up his nose. anyways long story short while they’re out in the woods he accidentally falls off his horse into a river/stream and is like AAAAA so rich goes down to help, and max who is incredibly embarrassed, instinctively shoved richard into the water aswell. this ends up with them like tousling but then they start laughing and just throwing water at eachother and shit. they have a “we have to dry our clothes” moment and so they end up sitting out in the woods for awhile, and after a bit of silence i imagine him being like “yknow ive always been jealous” “jealous?” “of men. you get to do whatever you want go out be free and take charge and i get to be, a wife.” and voz said richard would say something along the lines of, “ I never really saw you as a wife. generally, i mean. Not as wife material, just i don’t see that life for you”

LONG STORY SHORT after that max actually starts to develop feelings for him. rich already had sort of a budding crush on max before that but max entirely disliked rich before this encounter. along the way they DO fall in love and richard, knowing that if they stayed that their parents, (especially richard’s parents) would never allow max to live the life he wants he asks max to elope with him and gifts him his pearl earrings as sort of his own form of engagement. max agrees and both of them are sort of giddy with excitement/ anticipation the night they planned to run, but that was cut short by them being caught. they’re forcibly pulled apart and max watxhes as richard gets his eye slashed, but he’s dragged away before he can see what happens. in his mind they have killed richard. has soon as he can he runs hysterically crying to find eden screaming his name and he BEGS him to help him escape to anywhere that isn’t here. his one chance at genuine happiness and the love of his life lost in the same instant he is more distressed and traumatized than he has ever been in his entire life. eden, who would do anything for him, instantly agrees and gathers all the necessary things to get out of there on horseback as soon as possible.

on the first night they managed to find an in to sleep in Eden vows to never leave max’s side for as long as he lives. they already had a sort of codependent relationship before this but it becomes much more like, extreme(?) after this point. (there’s also the matter of eden’s unrequited love for max but i wont explain all that here…). max for the first few months has sort of extreme mood swings of being catatonic and then hysterically crying the next night until eventually it sort of simmers into his constantly pissed off/ on edge ticking time bomb default current state. at some point not to long into their escape eden ends up having to kill someone for max. and max, who on top of already being kinda fucked in the head now has experienced the huge trauma of the night of the slash+ escape, instead of being distraught at this he just kind of, laughs. it has to do with his weird thing with control/ coping, he sees how kind of easy it is to just, take someone’s life and the rush kind of goes to his head a bit. not saying he becomes kind of a serial killer but i’m saying he becomes kind of a serial killer.

years later he confides in eden that he’s TIRED AND BORED of being a vagabond and he wants to MAKE something of himself. there’s a period of time we haven’t really cooked on here in which he transitions [clothes hairstyle starts going my maximillion] and ends up becoming the evil ass mayor of a town. he gets a sort of high from being in control of the lives of all these little townspeople it’s like a fucked up dollhouse to him

THERES MORE TO IT BUT. IM GUNNA STOP THERE CAUSE THIS ENDED UP WAY LONGER THAN I INTENDED I hope this makes sense i didn’t proofread

also a lot of the things i’ve mentioned here are things i drew and posted with no context so if you wanna go back and look at them with some more context you can now .., yayy

also special bonus information, max’s voice claims are

pre transition/Western au: Blackarachnia beast wars

post transition: kuzco

LOL

[spaceagebachelormann]

Coming out to Aziraphale x Crowley as a lesbian (crack headcanons)

☆ — coming out to aziraphale and crowley as a lesbian (kinda crack edition)

✧ masterlist — navigation

✧ carmillas notes — OH MY GOD GOOD OMENS REQUEST I WANTED A GOOD OMENS REQUEST SO BADLY OHMYGOD RAHHHHH. also i did them separately AND together. god i’m so fucking tired

✧ warnings — idk curse words

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ aziraphale

“okay!”

okay but seriously he doesn’t really care

he kinda just stands there awkwardly then starts playing classical music or some shit idk

do NOT come to him for advice because his ass is in a 6000 year situationship. he cannot help you

will probably send you over to nina and/or maggie (their advice is just as bad)

if you start ranting when ur done he’ll probably yap about like sappho or something and then give even worse advice than he ever has before

hes trying genuinely but with everything between him and crowley he won’t be the greatest to come to

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ crowley

“what the fuck does this have to do with me”

genuinely he doesn’t know why you came to him. he doesn’t care. he couldn’t care less

will fully just sit there if you start ranting to him. he’s not a lesbian so he can’t really help you

if you ask him what to do his honest reaction is “i don’t fucking know??”

eventually he just like ends up giving you genuinely the greatest and most useful advice one could possibly give and then sits there and gives you the thousand yard stare

(he’s that one guy who’s randomly really whimsical and smart and then goes back to being a dumbass)

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ together

idk man they probably look each other and both are just like “I KNEW IT”

they WILL begin miracling your life to find you a gf. no it does not work and probably makes finding one worse

afterwards they’re just like “my bad gang 😔”

once again aziraphales like “oh. alright” and crowley doesn’t know why this involves him

ngl i feel like they’d (or at least crowley) point out some random girl on the street and ask if you think she’s pretty and if you say yes and then don’t talk to her crowley yells at her from across the street and aziraphale uses a miracle

10/10 love these guys

[dvrcos]

I fear some have severely lost the plot on how the foxes are characterized. None of these fuckers are truly softies or pacifists

Yes some of them are kinder than others but when it comes down to it they all know how to be abrasive and how to push people’s buttons. They are assholes (mostly as a means of defense) and that is part of what makes them foxes

They’re especially not pacifists with each other (Dan and Renee are probably the closest but they’re really only trying to keep peace so no one kills each other). They push and prod at each others most sensitive parts with little to no remorse for a multitude of reasons but mostly for enjoyment (and also out of care)

Every single one of the foxes is a fucking asshole !!! Especially to each other !!! Their attitudes know no bounds !!!

[fantasykiri5]

A pair of birds of prey for days 15 and 16 of @hermitadaymay !!! Definitely not a day and a half (?) late

[strawberrybyers]

i truly would not be mad if nancy breaks up with jonathan and tells steve to move on. and for vickie to tell robin she’s not interested but is willing to be friends. so nancy and robin decide they need to hang out after a long day of heartbreak and throughout their convos of explaining everything that’s been going on, they realize they have feelings for each other. i truly would not be mad at that. in fact, that’s exactly what i want to happen 😌

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Thinking about how if Shermy Pines. And like, if he is the baby, he’d be born in the 1970s and be 40 by 2012 and he’s already a grandad. He had to be a teen dad in the 80s (after a severe economic recession) and then his kid ended up being a teen parent by 1999 (Which is 8 years before ANOTHER SEVERE ECONOMIC RECESSION LOL)

Also he was born into a pretty broken family, probably rarely if ever saw his brothers. Do you think he ever saw Stanley before he had to start pretending to be Ford? Do you think Ford visited from college??? Because he didn’t seem confident facing his father until he made millions, so like???

And, like, do you think Filbrick and Caryn changed as parents by the time they raised Shermy? Because it seems like a trend that as parents get older they mellow out a bit, so Shermy probably has a completely different experience with their parents then Stan and Ford, and talking to them is just “is this seriously the same parents???” (Imagine the silent resentment that’d cause 😭😭😭)

Personally I headcannon that Shermy had a daughter (Mabel and Dipper’s mom) and not a son like it says on the wiki because c’mon. Can he just have a daughter. Idk why this is important to me but… c’mon. Can he just have a daughter. It just feels right to me.