#this joke has been living rent free in my head for weeks now
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Rhea @ Dom tonight probably:
#this joke has been living rent free in my head for weeks now#also im watching the match now so shut up#also also i meant to make this post earlier#rhea ripley#bad blood#dominik mysterio#liv morgan#wwe#wwe bad blood
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(based of @/tulipsempai's thing with Jeremy anon)
#this image has been living in my head rent free for two weeks now#this is just what i always imagine then i see that “eyes” anon xx#Jeremy my beloved#tulipsempai#alan becker#art#avm#ava#sorry for kinda inside joke#(i was kinda forced to post this lmao)
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DILF!Boss Headcannons
Warnings: manipulative behaviour, huge age gap. If you squint, you'll see this is slightly suggestive, but nothing explicit happens here. Author's note: hi my loves! If you guys don't know @sweet-as-an-angel do yourself a favor and check them out. Their Yandere!DILF series has built a 3-store mansion in my head and is living there rent free, so I just HAD to create another manipulative hot older man to call mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Take care!
Dividers by @cafekitsune.
Brain melting thinking about an older boss that realizes you find him attractive the moment you start working for him. He's sure he's got at least 20 years on you, but he can't help but feel flattered.
A boss that finds it delightful to toy with you a little bit: getting his face way too close to yours when he's reviewing your work, a hand gently rubbing your shoulders when giving you feedback. He tells himself that it's just "harmless fun", you're so cute trying to hide how flustered you are!
A boss that watches with curiosity how you grow on him more each day seeing how hard you work and how eager you are to learn everything he teaches you.
A boss who acts as a mentor professionally and insists you can confide in him with your life problems too. He's already lived everything you're going through now, and he just wants to see you thrive.
A boss that starts to invite you to a lot of work related events once summer break starts. His ex-wife is travelling with the kids and the house just feels so lonely without them.
A boss that, upon the discovery that you're single, is sure that the gods gifted you for him to turn into his perfect little doll.
A boss that likes to give you little gifts "for your hard work" every now and then, and they get increasingly more expensive.
A boss who's so subtle when blurring the lines between professional and personal relationships that the word "date" doesn't even cross your mind when he starts to invite you to non work related events.
"Have you seen this artist is coming to town with their new exposition?" "The weather is nice today, how about we visit the japanese garden to freshen up after spending the whole week inside the office?"
A boss who never corrects anyone who refers to you as a couple during your outings, and instead laughs it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a playful wink every time this happens. He even turns it into a internal joke, and soon you get used to hear him calling you his darling, his dear, his precious.
A boss that makes sure to have you yearning for him before making his move. Sometimes he kisses your hands when you're out together, always saying how lucky he is to have such a beautiful company, his lips gently running along your fingers. Other times he caresses your face when you go to him for advice. His hugs are tight, so his scent will linger on your clothes. He might even kiss the top of your head every now and then.
A boss who loves to see you getting used to having him always present in your life, getting flustered when he touches you in ways that are intimate just enough to keep you guessing.
A boss that thinks you're so beautiful and so hard working that he'll take how much time he needs to mould you into a perfect wife and a perfect mother for his children. He'll guarantee that your life will be so enmeshed with his that you'll never be able to leave him, even if you want to. This time he'll create a family so perfect that nothing will tear it apart.
A boss who knows he doesn't need to rush things because he's sure you'll be his in the end. You're so young, so malleable, and he's been playing this game for so much longer than you. He knows just what he needs to do to wrap you around his fingers.
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Just a though rmb that time u made hae-in and Jinwoo fight for y/n? I just rmbered it randomly and I propose:
Hs Jinwoo and Hae-in both regressing and they're pining for Y/N who used to be a mage/healer/support for them.
Ur local hottest boy in school + The it girl and Track Running champion of another school fighting for y/n's hand
this has been living rent free in my head to the point ive unconsciously drawn it LMAO so art down below if u scrolllll
okay but this concept with an extremely mundane [name]?? hello especially someone who's just trying to get past school with average grades and average effort then maybe with a few volunteering here and there where it's coincidentally being the assistant for the coah in the track and field team.
[name] being known for helping a few people and having an affinity when it comes to patching up people and helping them so volunteer work is just light work for them so they didn't mind as much when the things they do during their time in the track and field team is tossing water to the runners and sometimes fixing them up if they trip or break an ankle. being part of the red cross club last year really helps in these situations.
then [name] meets jinwoo who's the new member in the team and someone who just suddenly transferred to the school, saying it was about his father getting a promotion and they needed to move places.
[name] believes this because everyone has their own situations but it was in fact jinwoo finally finding out what school [name] was in after a few years of trying to search for them then he transferred school, not caring if it's the middle of the school year. of course [name] doesn't know this.
then those two gets closer and jinwoo tries to charm [name] with silly jokes and impressive stamina and speed whenever he's on the field, leaving [name] awe struck. it was obvious to everybody else that the new extremely handsome hotshot of the track and field team had a little thing for the stupidly mundane volunteer who only took the job because they needed something for their community service hours.
just as about this man was gonna ask [name] out the coach of the track and field team announces that now on during after class practices another student from a different school will be attending their training program and blow and behold it's fucking cha hae-in much to jinwoo's dismasy.
hae-in isn't much experienced with this whole regression thing so she's less prepared compared to jinwoo but her persistence and determination just to see her sweet little [name] again what helped her pulled through and landed her here.
hae-in took the program through some connections and begging to her coach to let her train under a different school, claiming it will help her grow and the coach believed her because how can you deny your favourite athlete that's stupidily amazing in the sport? anyway hae-in successfully got into [name]'s school without moving in even if it's not the whole day, seeing [name] was more than enough for her.
that is until she saw her number one rival at the corner, hae-in compares him to a cockroach with how he can't leave her sigh and his sense of fashion that's constantly dark themed. she's low-key pissed that he's here, like just leave her alone and her cutie [name] that's not for him.
[name] spends more time with the two, now hae-in is in the picture. they would help hae-in whenever she would get a sprain and give her tips on what to do to alleviate the pain and get better asap before the regionals or take her out to hang out because it was easier being the same gender. jinwoo is fuminggg at this because it took him like months to do that and for hae-in it took like a measly few weeks?? that's so unfair
suddenly the two get into little competitions with eachother trying to impress [name] and of course they noticed but they don't believe that the two most sought after players in the school or even the region would have a thing for them, they're just good friends.
that drives them insane but it's okay one of them will make you realize it's more than that!! it's just a matter of time and effort you'll be in their arms.
btw imagine after school going out with the two and you guys eat at some street vendor spot then they argue who could pay. they get so distracted with arguing you just pay for yourself as you watch with the street vendor the two fighting.
#starz.babblez#starry.piecez#solo leveling#sung jinwoo#solo leveling art#solo leveling fanart#solo leveling sung jin woo#solo leveling x reader#sung jinwoo x you#sung jinwoo x reader#yandere solo leveling#yandere sung jin woo#if u squint#yandere sung jinwoo#cha hae-in#cha haein#yandere cha haein#cha haein x reader#yandere cha hae in#i fell asleep mid typing in this post sl if anything doesn't make sense it eas sleep induced#mb gang cant stay up for more than 30 minutes without amimimimi#my art#digital art
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Hello I hope you are having a good week! I love your blog and anons so much <3 (The Horus feet post lives rent free in my head)
Your hc about Sanguinius having a secret possessive streak activated a neuron in my brain because its been stuck in my head for days and Im completely normal about him I promise :') my request:
His possessiveness rearing its head unexpectedly for the first time. To the point it even surprises him with how grumpy it makes him feel. His lover had only really been around him and his sons since theyd gotten together so he is caught off guard by this sudden anger.
She is meeting a few of his brothers for the first time at some kind of meeting and she laughing and smiling with Vulkan or maybe Fulgrim is being a little TOO friendly with her and Sanguinius just feels this red hot rage rip thru him without warning.
He goes to his lover and tensely bids his brother goodbye and herds her back to their shared quarters for some totally-normal-not-jealous-at-all sex (and a little bitey blood drinking) leaving her a total mess
If this is too specific, grumpy possessive vampire pigeon boyfriend is all I crave. Angry Sangy hits different...
Author's Note: Tried to write this normally and really struggled, so I decided to do a flashback style just to make it easier on me.
Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Rough sex, Biting, Blood play, Possessive behavior
When you first awoke the feeling of lightheadedness overtook you immediately, and you drifted off asleep again for a short while longer.
After you woke for the second time, you noticed your Angel’s absence and leaned up to look around.
The Red Tear has been Sanguinius’ home for quite awhile now, and this trip back to Terra was well deserved. Even if much was unexpected.
A lot had changed in this time away. You first and foremost. He had left Terra with just his legion, and was now returning with a beloved at his side. It was very clear upon his arrival that this was the most interesting news.
Horus had been the first to greet him, giving him a friendly one armed hug. You had tucked yourself behind Raldoron when Sanguinius had waved for you to come forward, and put his hand on your shoulder. Raldoron stood close watch- on edge with an instinctive protectiveness triggered by your nervousness.
“I would like you to meet someone,”
Sanguinius had first told Horus. Horus then went and told Fulgrim. Fulgrim told Ferrus, who then complained to Vulkan. Vulkan was more chaste and didn’t gossip, but did say he was going to meet Sanguinius and his beloved upon passing Jaghatai.
Suddenly then all the Primarchs currently on Terra were crowding around his beloved sniffing around, and Sanguinius was furious.
You had only ever been around him and his sons since he had first fallen in love with you; To see others crowding around looking at you, asking you questions that teeter on the edge of too personal, watching as you struggle to keep your own head and answer without wilting under an unfamiliar primarch aura?
He hated it.
Seeing Vulkan smile at you made him want to throw his spear into his chest.
Seeing Fulgrim put a hand on your shoulder made him want to tear the Phoenician's throat out with his teeth.
Horus’ smile and jokes about you grounding the angel made him watch to wrap his hands around the Warmaster’s neck.
Sanguinius had snatched you and dragged you away the moment he had an opening to, pushing you in the direction of his Terran bedchambers.
'You smell like them.'
His nose wrinkled in disgust.
You should smell like him; The oil on his feathers, the scent of his own sweat and skin. Sometimes you smell like his sons when you are within a close proximity of them for awhile, which is less offensive that what it is currently, but not preferred.
He threw you into the bed, the messy unmade blankets bunching around you as fluffy down flies up. Sanguinius’ quarters are surprisingly messy, and his constant feather losses make the places he spends most a fluffy explosion of down and a few flight feathers.
He never spoke as he caged you under his body, looking down at you with a fierce gaze before his lips trapped your own. You felt the warmth of them, the way his tongue brushed against your lips and demands entry. His fangs are sharp- they nick your lips almost every time he deepens a kiss, and you end up with little droplets of blood on the inside of your waterline.
You can still fell the broken skin this morning, licking your bottom lip.
Something about him snapped, what was normally a gentle and soft man who touched you like you were made of glass suddenly was throwing you around, growling and snorting like little more than an animal.
'S-Sang-'
You could barely even finish his name as his fingers drove deeper into your cunt, and you could tell he was in a rush. Your grit your teeth and moaned, teetering on the knife's edge of pain too intense for you to enjoy, as his hot breath fanned over your skin and his fingers curled and beckoned you from deep inside your cunt. His lips hovered over the large vein of your neck, feeling the pulse of your racing heart just beneath your skin.
When he pulled them out you whimpered at the ache, the way your thighs shook along with your whole body. Sanguinius grabbed your hips and you sucked in air at the intensity, flipping you on your stomach.
'Up.'
When you don't understand his request immediately he gently rapped his hand over your ass and listened to you squeal out after the sound of smacked flesh rang out; Soon after you shifted to push your hips higher in the air for him.
You can still feel the echo of that lingering slap. You lay sideways in bed, wrapped in a thick red blanket trying to ignore the aches. You can still feel in your cunt the soreness as well, more than usual.
The feeling of the fat head of his cock popping past your entrance made you grit your teeth and whine, hands gripping the blankets. Sanguinius kept pushing, listening to your soft noises of half protest until he seated himself fully inside of you and his balls pressed against your clit.
The bruises of his harsh thrusts, hips slapping against your ass and forming a chorus of skin on skin, wet sounds of your cunt tightening and leaking around his cock- are still blossoming, if not in color but in pain.
Normally Sanguinius is gentle enough that you only get a muscle ache at most, but in his lack of self control you now struggle to get out of the bed and get dressed.
‘Their eyes may wander but yours won’t; You are mine.’
You felt the way he thrusts deep into you, slipping through your walls as the tip of his cock knocks against places untouched by everyone but him. The thick base of his cock stretched your entrance far enough that it almost burned, but in an almost pain that had tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and hiccuping moans in your throat.
Sanguinius is rarely rough; But when he is you feel like you can barely survive it, despite your cunt crying for more leaking around him like you’ve never wanted him more.
After he filled you to the brim and had your cunt throbbing with your heart beat from overstimulation, he pulled out of you and listened to the defeated, quiet whine as you feel the stretch from the head of his cock popping out of your entrance.
‘Tilt your head.’
You weakly let him in, feeling his hot skin fan over your own. He bites and listened to the way you hiss, whimpering in pain. He laps at your neck for a few moments before pulling away, finding a spot closer to your shoulder.
He bit again and again, each time enjoying the way your skin broke and blood flooded his mouth. When your eyes watered in pain his hand slipped between your legs to distract you, brushing over your throbbing clit and feeling the way your hole leaks his own cum onto his hand as well as your growing arousal as he toys with you.
Your neck still aches, and your head feels a bit light. You almost stumble walking out of his bedchambers, walking down the hall and wrapped your arms around yourself.
“My lady?”
You hear a familiar voice of the chapter master, who you presume is attempting to find Sanguinius same as you.
He quickly notices your somewhat disheveled state of dress and look, glancing over you curiously. His face is still stoic with only a slight layer of concern and curiosity.
“Are you alright?”
Raldoron comes closer and watches you nearly stumble, before righting yourself. He reaches a hand outward to steady you, but you don’t need it.
“Oh yes I’ll be fine, just tired. It was a long return trip to Terra.
You shift slightly and feel the ache in your neck- wincing in pain. Raldoron’s eyes drift downward, before his expression changes.
He suddenly has trouble making eye contact with you, which is odd. Raldoron is one of the more talkative of the Astartes you know. You reach up to rub your sore neck and feel skin-
You forgot to wear something to cover the marks.
Raldoron can see the full abuse Sanguinus- his genefather - had done to you the evening before, and is awkwardly standing there like it’s eating him alive.
“…Perhaps you should rest some more, my lady.”
Raldoron is clearly trying to avoid the subject, as are you. The sound of much heavier footsteps is like a savior in the darkest of times.
“There you are, my love.”
Sanguinus approaches, looking bright and alert with a lovely smile. He looks like he slept wonderfully, his face fuller and brighter. He greets Raldoron as well, before furrowing his brow as he notices the look on Raldoron’s face and the way you are pulling at the collar of your clothes.
“Is something wrong?”
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More Sherlock & Co Headcanons
Because y'all like the first ones so much.
Mariana is one of those heathens who eats the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn bowl and enjoys it.
John and Sherlock have a rotating cast of answers to the age old client question, "So are you two...?" which only serve to confuse the asker even more. It's an incredibly enjoyable sport. Sherlock often just plays dumb, to John's enormous amusement. It's their favorite inside joke.
When he does actually eat it, Sherlock's go-to breakfast food is a boiled egg and soldiers. Fight me. I will not stand for boiled eggs and soldiers slander they are amazing and Sherlock knows it.
John keeps a collection of bloopers/funny moments he's recorded during cases in a folder on his computer. When he's feeling down, he puts in his earplugs and listens to them. He never fails to get a laugh out of it.
Speaking of language headcanons in the last post, Sherlock speaks fluent Spanish (because of course he does). Sometimes he and Mariana have innocuous conversations in Spanish just to mess with John. He finally gets what it's like to be a stranger watching them all converse in BSL.
Sherlock has a strong appreciation for the musical arts. Once, after a particularly sour case, John took Sherlock to the orchestra to lighten his mood. Sherlock didn't express much outward enjoyment, still drained from the previous week's labor, but the next day the pieces they'd heard rang out through the flat as Sherlock's touch brought them to life from memory on his violin. John found this version infinitely more beautiful than any orchestra. and he even glimpsed the ghost of a smile as Sherlock lost himself in the music.
You know how everyone has a different little doodle they do when they're bored and they've got a pen and a bit of paper around? Well, Sherlock does mandalas and circle scribbles, John does little smiley faces and zig zags, and Mariana writes peoples names in calligraphy.
@obsessed-sketches and I both agree Sherlock wears a really heavy, well-worn coat for the deep-pressure stimulation. And a scarf, because those are absolutely splendid to play/fiddle with and being all wrapped up just adds a whole nother dimension to it all.
John uses Microsoft Edge as his default browser. Mariana's exasperated protests have been completely futile in convincing him to switch and to be honest, who knows if there's any hope left for him anymore.
Speaking of browsers, Sherlock would be such a boss at the 2048 game.
Someday I'm gonna have to write a dance lesson fic, because the idea of Sherlock teaching John to dance for a case lives in my head rent free for literally every SH rendition but these two especially. Sherlock freely infodumping about the history of each song he plays as he shows John how to waltz, John filling the silence with nervous rambling, that rapport setting in and them just falling into step after a few minutes and forgetting time is even passing... I know I mostly HC them as a QPR but dear god the intimacy in that may kill me.
Mariana once introduced Sherlock to the National Day Calendar. National Cellophane Tape Day, National Life Insurance Day, National Raspberry Popover Day, and the likes are now slipped happily into conversations at 221B under Sherlock's firm belief that each one is on par with Christmas in terms of their significance in the public eye. Slay, Sherlock. National Days are awesome.
John makes the cutest sleep noises.
Yk how i said Sherlock likes rainbow sour straps. If you've ever eaten sour straps, you'll know there are two ways to eat them: whole, or by tearing the colours into strips. Clearly, as a civilised human being, Sherlock does the latter.
SHERLOCK WOULD TOTALLY WRITE AWESOME POETRY AND READ IT OUT AND JOHN AND MARIANA WOULD BE STUNNED INTO AWESTRUCK SILENCE
Mariana wears those really big hoop earrings. You know the ones.
AAAAH i should stop before this becomes a mammoth block of text. Maybe I'll make a part three.
Thank you kindly for being unwillingly subjected to my opinions coming to my TED talk.
#please i have too many they are literally exploding out of my head#the innocuous domestic ones are the worst i see them EVERYWHERE#NJKGLG AAAAAAA#i probably need help#ive not proofread this post at all but yk what im posting it#sherlock and co#sherlock & co#jonk watson#sherlock holmes#john watson#mariana ametxazurra#johnlock#jonklock#podlock#sherlock and co headcanons#arter speaks
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tell me what's behind those eyes!
NSFW 18+ content ahead. Minors, do not interact with me or my works.
notes from poppy: Unclean Vocalist Sukuna has been living in my head rent free since I started talking about him two months ago and I'm about to make that everyone else's problem.
content warnings: spit play, size difference, exhibitionism
Wanna read more about Unclean Vocalist Sukuna and his band Scarlet Sea? C'mon! You know you wanna!
UNCLEAN VOCALIST SUKUNA is incredibly secret about his private life, but even more so with what he's into sexually. Fans like to make educated guesses back and forth in their own DMs, but that's all they are at the end of the day. Guesses.
Lucky for you, I'm here to tell you all about what he's into.
SPIT PLAY
Sukuna being into spit play started as a joke. It was just an honest-to-god joke. But if Sukuna were to lay the blame with anyone, it would one hundred percent be Choso’s fault.
Because if Choso hadn’t been off somewhere else being a freelancing producer every so often, then Sukuna wouldn’t be forced to record demos with his mishmash of second-hand equipment he had collected over the years. He’d much rather be over at Choso’s, with his sound-treated bedroom studio and immaculate set-up, but the muse refused to shut up.
And you would figure after doing this for over ten years, Sukuna would know exactly what to do in Choso’s absence, but that’s where you’re wrong. While Sukuna’s the heart of the band, Choso’s the brain. Sukuna barely gets microphone placement, room treatment, blah blah blah – why even learn when Choso was always going to be there?
Choso wasn’t going to come back for a couple weeks this time though, and Sukuna needed to get some sort of vocal track down or he was going to fucking explode if the song idea didn’t leave his head.
That’s where you came in.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you were over here?” You had asked him that night, dutifully hovering over the record button for whenever he gave you the signal. But he just shook his head before facing his mic set-up in the corner of his bedroom and disappearing back under the blanket. It was hot as Satan’s asshole under it, but he’d do anything to dampen the outside noise and give Choso as clean a take as possible to work with.
Don’t even get him started on his fucking spit problem. He swears It’s almost like there’s a little army of droplets in his mouth that goes Okay, hold off, men! He’s about to record! Aaaaaand… NOW!
“Wait!!” You heard the massive blanket monster call to you.
“Now? Press it now?” You teased him.
The heavy blanket fell to the floor with a soft thud before Sukuna whipped around and squinted at you.
“Please be good. I’ve been tortured all week by this idea.” He begged you, and you giggled.
You watched on as he maneuvered a wastebasket over to him with his foot, and then spit deeply into it before disappearing back under the blanket.
And from over on the other side, even with the thick blanket muffling everything else from the outside world, he heard you as clear as day.
“God, I wish that were me.”
(He ended up having to do three takes, by the way, because the first two were trash. It was damn near impossible to remember the lyrics when your words kept rattling around in his head).
And it would’ve been fine, if the joke never left the house...
But then it left the house.
Any time he’d spit into the dirt – “God, I wish that were me”. Any time he’d spit in an alley after a show – “God, I wish that were me”.
And you swear on your fucking life, you didn’t do it on purpose in front of everyone, but Sukuna still thinks to this day you’re lying. Because the last straw for him was at a soundcheck, where, in front of all his band mates and some fucking strangers, he found a wastebasket to spit into, and you said, “God, I wish that were me.”
Yeah, it started as a joke, but not so much when you went home that night and shut the front door.
It wasn’t a joke anymore when you turned around and he swiftly pinned you up against the door, kissing you fiercely and leaving you breathless.
It wasn’t a joke anymore when he finally pulled away, his hand immediately reaching up and gripping your cheeks, squeezing your mouth open.
It wasn’t a joke anymore when he growled, “You want me to spit in your mouth? Mm? Is that what you want?”.
It wasn’t a joke anymore as you nodded, whimpering pathetically and opening your mouth as wide as you could.
How was he not supposed to indulge you when you looked so precious between his fingers like that?
SIZE DIFFERENCE
Honestly, nothing gets Sukuna harder than knowing he’s bigger and stronger than you. Nothing gets him going more than knowing he can just manhandle you and put you in any helpless position he wants to. Just a little fleshlight to him. The cutest little fleshlight to ever exist – your eyes all glazed over and your hands squeezing on to everywhere and anywhere on his body. You don’t need to do any work – no, all you need to do is be good and let him use you however he wants.
It was adorable to him the first time you tried to take him though. You insisted on getting on top, trying to be very logical about the situation – “That’s the only way it’s gonna fit”. He could get it to fit, you didn’t need to worry your pretty little head about that. But you looked so fucking determined to do it without any help, that he found it impossible to tell you no.
What followed was him trying not to laugh at how cute you looked, huffing and whining trying to get just the right angle, until your thighs finally ached enough and you gave up.
But oh, the look on your face when he held on to you tight and flipped you onto your back. How you whimpered after he gave you the softest of kisses.
And how your eyes grew wide as you felt him press against you and he murmured, “My turn.”
EXHIBITIONISM
Exhibitionism was always rooted there, deep down. He thinks it’s some psychological bullshit of wanting to be caught after years of having to be The Responsible One while looking after Yuji. He never got to take risks or do anything remotely scandalous, so he thinks his brain is making up for it now.
Or maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it isn’t that deep at all, and he just wants to fuck you in front of the other members to show them who you belong to.
Because he’s not stupid. He sees the way that some of them look at you. Choso at least as the common sense to not hit on you because of the best friend code he’s had with Sukuna for the past fifteen years. And Sukuna isn’t intimidated by Junpei, especially since he looks at Junpei as a little brother and a mentee. But Toji, Aoi, and Suguru are… a whole other monster.
While Suguru is much more methodical in his seduction – cheerfully listening to you talk about everything under the sun while also seeing how far he can push Sukuna’s buttons with flirty compliments for you – Aoi and Toji just like to show off. They like to brag to you about how much they can bench press, or how many one-handed push-ups they can do. The push-up contests usually end though with Sukuna walking over and shoving his foot into one of their sides, and one colliding into the other so the competition ends in a draw (and Sukuna being very touchy for the rest of practice).
And while Sukuna swears to god he isn’t jealous, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t occasionally go to bed with a certain little scenario to send him off to sleep.
The scenario of those three sitting across from you and him, their hands pathetically stroking their cocks because all they can do is just watch him fucking you into next week. Just watch as Sukuna tells you to keep your eyes on him and only him. All they can do is just watch as you tremble against him, being so pliant in his large, calloused hands and watch his cock stretch you past your limits.
All they can do is watch until they come all over their hands, groaning deeply, wishing that they could have filled you up inside.
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this isn't well written or anything I'm just. I'm Desperate to get Ren out of my head he's been living here rent free and I NEED to switch into Taiga mode to write that request so. Please enjoy structureless Ren rambles. He doesn't come off as character with Much Nuance (like some others, Rui!! Jin, Subaru, Haku, etc) but like. When he's been sitting in your head for the past 14 business days....things unravel.
I'm not like citing sources here. This is pure vibes. Please don't crucify me if I got smth wrong 🙏
So he has a Thing about the ocean. He watches horrors movies related to it, he seems especially grossed out by it, but he doesn't seem like he's never had experience with it. Which is why I just can't not think he came from a small, coastal town (like from Aquamarine lmao). The kind that has a Barrage of tourists in the summer and over holidays and he Hated it because now he can't just go anywhere without risking being in the background of someone's vacation pictures. And I also can't help but feel like he probably had a parent/parents who parentified him, probably not maliciously, but they still did it. Like two immature parents or one immature parent and one completely absent one, so when it came to actually being responsible about things, he had no choice but to step in. Which is why he's so annoyed by and against hard work- he's done enough of it and he doesn't want to keep getting involved when he now doesn't feel the responsibility to. He probably feels a lot of resentment towards them for what he had to take on. Whether he feels bad about that resentment or not, I can't say.
He doesn't like messes or the animals in Jabberwock. He doesn't want to have to care for anything besides himself. Haru might remind him of his family which is why he's so hostile towards him. Because like Notably, Ren isn't BAD at hard work. He does go to classes, does missions, has a job at the diner, and still has to help around Jabberwock no matter how much he tries to avoid it. He's even dedicated to his mobile games, which seems silly, but those require a lot of routine daily to keep up and it seems like he has a few he keeps up with! And if we consider the Jabberwock chapter, even though he was against Calamari and resented taking care of it, he still did and he still felt guilty when he didn't do a good job at it, so much so that he ran off to the beach to try to revive the poor thing. Not the actions of someone who truly is selfish and doesn't care. Him carrying Haru to safety too- yes, leaving him to die would have been really. Kind of reprehensible but he carried the guy and rejected any kind of thanks and appreciation for it. He could have used that as guilt-leverage to try to get out of things later but...did he? Not as far as I know.
Like he does all of that no matter how much he complains. Also, who ELSE has a campus job? I'll wait. 🥱. Sho doesn't count, the food truck is a passion project. Even BROKE ASS Kaito doesn't have a campus job. Why is Ren working? Does he NEED the money or does he feel some kind of compulsion to make it for some reason? Because he's responsible? Because he sends it back home? Because he wants to have money for post Darkwick life? Who knows!!!!! He got that job like INSTANTLY bro enrolled and got that work study like the first damn week.
And this is way less in the realm of Theory Crafting and conspiracy and more just a pure hc but I just feel like maybe his hostility towards other people, the MC included, is because he might be dealing with the aftermath of a damaged or lost relationship. Not exclusively romantic but like possibly? Like if he grew up in a small town, he probably knew the people around him from childhood to adulthood. And it's not unlikely that he had a childhood friend that stuck through all the years with him. And it's not unlikely that, if they were friends that long, that people would start making jokes and suggestions about them ending up together long term. And! It's not unlikely that! He felt some kind of pressure to at least pretend to reciprocate feelings towards them. So maybe a close friendship became a relationship and maybe he did have feelings for them and maybe he didn't or just wasn't ready for them. Either way, now he's in Darkwick and given how unhappy he is, it doesn't seem like it was his first choice to be there. Is he running away? Does he not have a home to go back to (either self imposed or true exile)? I just. I have questions.
Please someone ramble with me I'm going crazy here. I'm like God I'd kill this guy [thinking about making out with him sloppy style]. Hate him truly he's so annoying I'd argue with him every day. What if this were us
#tdb#Tokyo debunker#ren shiranami#shaking in the fetal position. im a jiro girl im a jiro girl im a jiro girl#ofc any of this can be rejected by canon. but also the fact hes so Anti Nepotism babies and legacy kids snd stuff like. i can't imagine he#came from a well off family snd has a lot to fall back on. i cant imagine he didnt have some kind of struggle that made him feel so#negatively towards people who#to him#had it easy#this is Not Going In The Masterlist
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Soup for Breakfast
Summary: Javi comes home to find that you caught the flu from your class at school, and wants to help you feel better.
Word count: 1.7K
Warnings: FLUFF. This is literally just pure fluff, as Javier Peña lives in my mind rent free as the biggest softie alive. Mentions of food/eating, mentions of death (but in a really wholesome way), reader being sick
Paring: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of Y/N, reader is an elementary school teacher)
This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
A/N: I wrote this when I had COVID because I am convinced that if you told Javi that you were sick, he would literally go to the ends of the earth to help you feel better.
“Hey hermosa, I’m home.” Javi set his keys down on the entryway table and shed his dark gray suit jacket, flopping it over the edge of the kitchen counter.
Silence.
“Hermosa?” He questioned again, concern beginning to creep in his voice.
Since you had started the school year, Javi came home every day looking forward to the image of you sitting at the kitchen table, projects and papers from your 3rd grade class spread across the oak surface. You’d smile and give him a big kiss, ready to share whatever crazy antics your class was up to that day. But when he stepped through the doorway, he noticed the usual construction paper, notebooks and crayons, but the seat where you always were was empty.
“Hey baby, it’s me!” He tried one more time, hoping that you were in a room further down the hall and hadn’t heard him. No response. The silence sent Javi into fight or flight, now picking up his speed as he looked into other rooms to find them all empty. He paced back to the living room, trying to keep his composure, his past experience with missing persons not boding well for his current state. Taking a few more deep breaths before doing anything irrational, Javi went to sit down on the couch, until he heard a small grunt underneath him.
“Please don’t sit on me.” You grumbled, nestled under a large pile of blankets.
“Hermosa, Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” Javi shot up, breathing heavily, placing his hand on his chest. You rolled over, shifting around in your blanket heap, head peeking out to look at Javi. “Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Panic still lingering in his words, now realizing you were laying in a near lifeless heap on the couch.
“No, I feel great. Isn’t this what everyone does when they feel good? Roll themselves into a giant blanket pile?” Your remark oozing with sarcasm and a hoarseness in your voice. “The flu has been going around my classroom and I think I got it.” You groaned, your body aching as you shifted yourself further out of your fabric cocoon. “You’d think by this point I’d have the immune system of a steel truck, but these kids are just never ending germ factories.”
Javi quietly chuckled to himself as he knelt next to you, sweeping your hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. As he got closer, he could feel the heat radiating off you, your breaths heavy and labored as you fought to keep your eyelids open. He grazed the back of his large hand against your hairline, his deep brown puppy dog eyes growing more and more concerned.
“Cariño, you look awful.”
“Way to make a girl feel good.”
“No, baby, that’s not what I meant, I-” he tried to quickly rebuttal.
“Javi, I’m just joking. I know I look like a Gremlin someone just pulled out of a garbage can.” You both quietly laughed before you let out a deep cough, only adding to the effect of your disheveled state. “I started feeling gross this afternoon while the kids were at Art and Gym, so I already made sub plans for the rest of the week, just in case.”
Javi leaned back down to kiss your head once again, knowing you really must have felt awful if you were willing to admit the fact you couldn’t fight your way through your sickness so you didn’t need to find a substitute teacher for your class. “Okay, hermosa. I think that’s a good idea.” He sat up to peek his head over the couch, starting at your kitchen. “Give me one second, okay?”
You nodded, already back to being half asleep. Javi began rummaging through the fridge and cabinets, looking for any food that you would 1- eat, and 2- help you feel better. Grimacing at the low stock of items, he began frantically scribbling down a grocery list full of supplies.
“Hey baby?” Javi had made his way back to the couch, squatting down next to you as he handed you a glass of water.
“Mhmmmmhh?” You moaned, outstretching an almost limp arm to take the glass, sitting up as you took a few sips.
“I’m gonna go to the grocery store to get some things. I promise I’ll be right back. Are you gonna be okay while I’m gone?”
“Well I wasn’t planning on going very far anytime soon, I think I’ll be alright.” You half smiled at him, handing him back the now empty glass.
“Okay. I love you.” He kissed you on the top of your head, his nose nestled in your hair before he pulled away, frantically gathering his keys and shutting the door behind him.
“Love you too.” You mumbled, half coherent as you burrowed back down into your blankets.
When Javi got to the store, he was a man on a mission. You would have thought someone had told him Pablo Escobar was inside at the rate he was moving through the aisles. Completely disregarding the list he had thrown together at the house, Javi had a shopping cart of supplies full enough to tend to the entirety of your 3rd grade class. The thought of seeing you sick and in pain absolutely wrecked him, wanting to do anything he could to help you feel better. He was so desperate, in fact, at one point while in the pharmacy section, he had thrown in a box of bandaids, just in case.
When he returned back to the house, he was relieved to find you at least sitting in a semi-upright position watching TV, laughing to yourself at the ridiculous amount of groceries he had just set down on the kitchen counter.
“I didn’t know we were planning on running a hospital out of our home.” You giggled as Javi unbagged the items.
“I just wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed. I may have gone a little overboard.” He replied sheepishly as he continued to unpack a bag full of snacks.
“It’s okay, it’s sweet. Thanks Dr. Peña.”
“Of course.” He finished putting everything in its place before coming back over to you. “Here, drink this.” He passed another cup over to you.
“Wow, you even got me the red Gatorade? You hate the red kind! You really do love me.” A soft smile crept across your face as you took a small sip.
“Well I’m not the one who looks like they’re on their deathbed, Hermosa.” It took every ounce of strength in you to give him a playful shove. “I’m gonna make you some soup, okay?”
“You didn’t need to go all the way to the store for soup, we have soup here.” You rolled your eyes, knowing how much it physically pained Javi to watch you eat Campbell's canned soup after having a taste of one of his mom’s recipes not too long ago.
“I can already hear mi mamá yelling at me from the grave if I let you eat that shit, especially when you’re sick. I’m making you Caldo de Pollo so she doesn’t come back to haunt me. Had it every time I was sick. Swear it makes you feel better.” Your heart was warming at the idea of Javi making one of his late mother’s recipes, thankful that Javi’s dad had given you some of them from her cookbook.
“Thank you, Javi. You’re the best. I’d kiss your sweet face but I’m guessing you don’t want my germs.”
“A quick one won’t hurt anyone, doctor’s orders.” He winked before planting a soft peck on your lips.
As he got up, he went over to your entertainment center under the TV, pulling out 2 different VHS tapes. “Which one?”
“You can’t pit two Harrison Ford classics against each other! Hmmmm, I do love Indiana Jones, but I think Star Wars is gonna have to be the winner today.
“I had a feeling.” He smiled as he popped in the tape, the theme music blasting as he got to work in the kitchen.
Javi had to admit, he wasn’t a terrible chef. It wasn’t until he met you that he actually felt a need to cook. In Colombia, he was either eating out or stealing whatever leftovers Steve and Connie had, and once he came home, his dad cooked, insisting he wanted to keep his wife’s habit alive and well, even after she was gone. After Javi had chopped up all of the vegetables, he tossed them into the pot to let them simmer with the already bubbling chicken and rice. Once the soup was done, he filled a bowl practically to the brim, bringing it over to you, only to be greeted by the sweet sounds of your soft snores, muffled under the blanket draped across your face. He laughed quietly to himself before putting your soup on the end table of the couch and shuffling himself underneath your blanket mountain so your head rested against his thigh as a pillow. He stroked the ends of your hair between his fingers in one hand, the other, rubbing up and down your back in soft, gentle circles.
He let the end credits of the movie roll before turning off the TV and carefully unwrapping you from your blankets, scooping you up to carry you back to bed. As he laid you down, gently tucking you in under the covers, he heard you mumble something.
“What was that, Hermosa?” Javi’s voice just above a whisper.
“I never ate your soup.” You muttered, eyes still closed, words barely coherent.
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, baby. You need to rest.” He sat on the edge of your bed next to you, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“Can I have it for breakfast tomorrow?” You grumbled, as you turned over on your pillow.
Javi laughed to himself. “Of course hermosa. Nos vamos por la mañana con tu sopa. Espero que te sientas mejor pronto. Te amo con todo mí corazon, Osita.” (I’ll see you in the morning with your soup. I hope you feel better soon. I love you with my whole heart, little bear.)
If you would have asked Javier Peña all those years ago if he would have ever made someone soup for breakfast, he would have laughed in your face. But now? Now, he would make a million bowls of soup for breakfast, if it meant he got to spend it with you.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction#javi pena#javi peña x reader#javier pena#javier pena fic#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena narcos#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#narcos fanfiction#narcos fic#narcos#javier peña fluff#javier peña fic#pedro pascal characters#pedrohub#pedro pascal character
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REQUEST TIME Because of your beautiful, beautiful mind, this idea came up after reading your amazing Billy fic (Only worth living if somebody loving you).
How about a Billy who, as you showed, is turned on by taking care of his SO, but turned on so much that he cannot help but cum from this?
I know it'll be great, as the idea mostly came from you and the EYE CONTACT will break me.
thank you for this wonderful prompt, and for trusting me with it! In @myfandomprompts I believe!!!!!!!
Title: This Is My Idea of Fun - part of the It’s All For You series but can be read as standalone
Pairing: Billy Washington x female reader
Summary: You've come back from a week long holiday with your friends, and your boyfriend Billy has missed you. He's missed taking care of you, touching you and tasting you, giving you everything you need. And in giving you everything you need, he finds his own satisfaction.
Cunnilingus, breast worship, nipple orgasm (female), hands-free orgasm (male), mild praise kink, pet names, established relationship, fluffy smut.
Rating: E
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: references to Lana Del Rey (this whole series is based on Video Games - the lyrics and the vibes. JUMPSCARE I GUESS)
Tag list: @sylasthegrim / @myfandomprompts/ @arcielee / @babyblue711 / i forget who else might want Billy tags <3
"Billy!"
He grins as he waits for you at Stansted arrivals with open arms, and you fly to him. "Hey!"
Catching you in his embrace, he peppers your face with kisses, not caring that you're feeling gross from your flight, not caring that you smell of the stale aeroplane air, not caring, not caring, not caring. Behind you, your friends meet their partners, too, although none are as welcomed so lovingly as you (not that it's a competition - but it still feels good).
"I missed you!"
His heart leaps when you say that, and he runs his fingers over your hair. "Hmm. I missed you too. Didn't know what to do with myself all week. God, you look good. Look at your tan!" The Mallorca sun has warmed your skin and left you glowing, and he kisses your forehead. "You wore sun cream, right?"
"Of course!" you laugh, batting away his worries. "Factor fifty, three times a day."
"Hmm. I'm not sure it counts if you're adding tanning oil on top of it."
"Shut up!"
He grins and grabs the handle of your suitcase, and although you protest, he takes the rucksack from your back, too. When you turn towards the train station within the airport, he grabs your hand. "Where you going?"
"Aren't we-?" you gesture to where your friends are meandering to head back to central London.
"Absolutely not. No public transport for my girl."
"For God's sake!" you laugh again. "It's only a half hour train! You didn't have to drive. Couldn't wait to get me alone, huh?"
Billy ducks his head but gives you a glance. "You joke, but..."
You shove him playfully. Leaving him for a moment, you hug your friends goodbye and promise to see them soon, and then you go back to him. Arm in arm, you walk out of the airport. It's only been a week away from him. But you're giddy being back with him.
After some convincing from your side, you'd agreed that you'd text every day, but not go into detail about what you're up to - that way, when you got home, you could tell him everything. At first, it made him nervous, but now that you're animatedly telling him everything as he drives down the M11, he's glad.
It's magic, seeing you like this. It's a beauty to listen to you talk about anything, let alone something that makes you so happy. He listens almost in a trance, and as he sits at a comfortable seventy-five in the outside lane, he rests his hand on your thigh. God, it's good to have you back.
By the time you've returned to the flat you rent together, you've told him all about your week-long holiday. Inside, it's clean and tidy, and on the living room windowsill is a fresh bouquet of lilac and lavender.
"Oh, Billy."
He smiles and kisses your temple. "Welcome home."
"Thank you."
You hug him for a long moment, just happy to be in his arms. But then his kisses move to your neck, and you squirm away. "No, stop. I need a shower. I feel gross."
Billy's nose scrunches as he beams at you. "Alright. Want me to unpack for you in the meantime?"
You think about telling him no, that he doesn't have to worry, but he strokes your cheek, and you're reminded how much he likes to take care of you, in his own way. "Could you?"
He nods.
"Thank you."
You take your time in the shower. You scrub every inch of yourself clean in an attempt to scourge travel from your skin and hair. By the time you've finished, Billy's unpacked your bags and stuck a wash on. It makes you feel all warm inside, the little gestures he performs that show he loves you. That you're his person to look after. You wrap yourself up in a towel and pad into the living room.
"All better?" he asks from where he's sitting on the sofa.
"Yeah. I need a proper brew, though. Want one?"
"Go on, then."
In the little kitchen, you pull out two mugs. They're ones you painted together on a date when you were still teenagers. He painted sprigs of lavender on his. It's what you smelled of on your first date. It's his favourite smell now, and your favourite flower. The memory makes you smile.
Strong arms encircle you as the kettle boils. A sharp chin finds its place on your bare shoulder. You put a tea bag in each mug, and a teaspoon of sugar in yours. Where Billy's mug has your signature lavender painted on it, yours has yours and his initials in a purple love heart.
"Shouldn't I be the one making you a drink?" he asks softly. His voice is low and smooth, every bit a comfort as a cup of tea.
"You've done plenty for me! But you can wash it up later, if it makes you feel better."
He laughs lowly, and kisses your neck. "Mmm. You smell nice now."
"Yeah, I didn't enjoy stinking of eau de Ryanair."
"Mm. Much better now. All clean. Just in time to make you dirty again."
You lean back against him as you cackle in delight. "That's a shit line, Billy! You'll have to try harder than that."
The kettle shakes as it comes to a loud boil, and you pour the hot water, followed by milk. The tea bags can stew for a few minutes.
"You want me to try different lines?"
"Hmm. Depends what lines you've got."
"I don't think I've got any."
You turn to face him and give him a smile. "You must have some. You know the right things to say in certain contexts."
He tilts his head down almost bashfully. "That's different."
"Yeah?"
"It's easy to say the right things when you're already half out your mind."
Heat flushes your cheeks, and you rest your hands on his shoulders to pull him down for a sweet kiss. "That's true. And you always know what to say then, anyway. How do you know what to say?"
Billy gently presses you back against the counter and places his hands on it either side of you. His gaze roams down your neck and to your exposed collarbones and shoulders. "Dunno. You just make me want to say them."
"Well, I'm glad that you do. You know, Sofia told us that Tom doesn't even talk during sex?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Sometimes she has to even beg him to go down. He doesn't like doing it that much."
Billy meets your gaze with surprise in his eyes. "Really? Tommy?"
You nod.
"Huh. Maybe I need to get better friends."
That makes you laugh. "You should give him some tips!"
"I dunno. You think I've got anything worth sharing?"
You swallow. Butterflies have burst into your stomach. Just talking about it makes your skin tingle. And it's been a week. A week away from Billy might as well be a year. Yeah, a holiday with friends was really nice, but it had its drawbacks. On the second night you had cried because you missed him. Of course, your friends had laughed and rolled their eyes, and you'd got yourself together quick, but- but Billy.
"Yeah. You're alright at it, I guess."
His smile is so sweet as he leans closer to you. He tilts his head down and cocks it slightly to the side. "Only alright?"
You lick your lips. "Well. It's a better way for you to use your mouth than trying shit chat up lines."
"Wouldn't you prefer it was that way round, though?"
You try - and fail - to bite back your laughter. You're still blushing. "Yeah... when you put it like that."
"I missed it while you were away, you know?"
"'It'?"
He kisses your lips softly, nipping ever so slightly. "Your taste."
The power he holds over you is unreasonable. When he pulls away, your breath is still held. "My...?"
He watches your face for a moment, and then grabs the cups behind you. "C'mon. Let's go sit down."
Where he goes, you so happily follow. Back in the living room, you sit on the sofa next to him and cradle the mug in your hands. You blow on the top of the tea, and take a sip. Mm. Tastes like home.
"So what did you do with yourself while I was away?"
Billy positions himself on the cushions so that he's close to you, facing you, his knee touching yours. "Work. Saw Lana."
"How is she?"
"Settling in, I think. Mum and Dad are happy she's home."
"Bit of a different climate to the Middle East, though." You smile.
He sips his drink, too, as his fingers ghost along your shoulder. "Hmm."
"How's work?"
He doesn't answer. But his expression is soft. His sweet blue eyes follow the line his finger traces on your skin, up the side of your neck, and then down to where the towel is still wrapped under your arms and over your body.
"Billy?"
"Work's fine."
Another sip. And then he leans in and kisses your throat. The tea makes his mouth hot, and it draws a quiet noise from you. "I'm so glad you're home."
"Me too."
As he kisses your throat again, you take another sip. It's sweet, refreshing, soul-warming. The tea is nice, too. You smile softly.
When Billy's fingers carefully tug the towel open, you let it fall with a certain amount of relief. Since you came out of the bathroom in it, you've wanted him to do this. To welcome you home properly. From the moment he gripped your thigh in the car, actually, your heart has been quicker.
"Give me your cup." He takes it from your fingers, half empty, and rests it next to yours on the table. Another intimate gesture, a sign of him taking care of you.
Your body is dry now, clean and smooth and fresh. He runs his hand over your stomach and up your side, and his thumb caresses the swell of your breast. The other hand turns your face by the chin to look at him. He smiles slightly. "Hey."
"Hey."
"I missed you."
It never gets old, hearing that. "I missed you, too."
He kisses your mouth again. You close your eyes, and give into him.
How beautiful it is when you give into him, he thinks. You're clay under his hands, ready to be moulded, shaped, turned into something divine with the help of his touch. How you part your lips when he guides you makes his heart leap. He sighs when your tongues meet lazily. It's a hot and wet pressure that sends bolts of lighting down his spine.
He could kiss you all day and all night and never get bored, never need more. You're so soft and pliant under him. How sacred it is, to be wanted like this. Billy keeps hold of your chin as you share deep kisses, while his other hand spreads fingers wide and caresses your side. After a long moment, he guides you to lie back on the sofa.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes against your cheek.
You laugh breathlessly. "Even with these tan lines?"
Smiling, he traces the line over the top of your breast. Your skin is so supple here. "Yes."
"They look stupid."
"Better than there being no tan lines at all."
"I'd never sunbathe topless."
Just the thought makes his arms tingle. It makes him bite gently against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot against it. "You'd better not. Your body is for my eyes only."
That earns a soft sigh from you. "Says who?"
It's a poor attempt on your part to tease and challenge him, but already it's under his control that you've fallen. "You. Every time you give yourself to me like this, it's a promise that you're mine."
"You don't own me." But your voice is gentle, your smile wide.
"No? Then why have you stopped breathing?"
It's satisfying how you gasp under his touch. He kisses you deeply a final time before his lips find a path down your skin. He follows the curve of your jaw and the slope of your neck, and at your collarbone, he leaves careful bites to the bone. Between your breasts, he presses his nose and breathes hard.
Across your lower back, he splays his fingers and lifts you up slightly. You arch closer to him, and he hums lowly at the grasp on his sandy hair.
"So beautiful." He can't help telling you again and again. "You're so beautiful."
You laugh softly. "Stop being so sweet." But your eyes are closed, he sees as he glances up, and you're preening at his words.
"You want me to be cruel?"
Again, you laugh. "Alright. You can keep being sweet."
"That's my girl."
Billy kisses the underside of your breast, and brings one hand to the other to carefully massage it. He bites the delicate skin here and there, and makes a pattern of kisses around your flesh. As he neglects your nipple, you feel your areolas tighten at the stimulation and anticipation.
"Please," you whisper.
"There's no rush," he soothes.
"But I want you."
He kisses your sternum harder than before. "I know, baby. Just relax. I'll take care of you."
You whimper quietly. He's doing everything right, except this time he's being slow about it. He drags his pretty lips down your stomach and you tense, but then he returns back up to your neck.
"Relax," he whispers.
You try to let the tension go, but it's difficult when anticipation is coursing through you. You open your eyes to see him looking down at you. Against your waist, his thumb runs soothing circles.
"Take deep breaths for me," Billy murmurs. As he leans over you, his short hair falls over his eyes, and it makes you smile. You stroke his face affectionately. You do as you're told.
"That's it. In, and out, nice and slow. Good job, baby. Just like that."
As the tension slowly melts away from your body, Billy is satisfied. Barely holding back his hunger, he returns his attention to your breasts. As you lie comfortably on the sofa, focusing on your breathing, he strokes up and down your sides, fingers ghosting along the swell of your breasts. Circles replace strokes, the tips of all four fingers trailing wide over your flesh.
When his touch glides over your pebbled areolas, you sigh and smile. The expression on your face makes his stomach tense. God, he could come from that alone.
"Does that feel nice?"
The deep breathing you've been practising has you finally relaxed and almost in a haze of desire now, and you nod. Words are out of your grasp, but you give him an encouraging hum. The anticipation no longer feels like a burden - now, it's just a promise.
"It feels nice for me, too." Closer and closer, Billy's fingers get to where you want them. And then, with a careful grasp around the bottom of your breast, he licks over your nipple. The stimulation makes you whimper and arch up. He runs the tip of his tongue around it, watching your face carefully for your reaction. Against your other breast, his fingers mirror the action of his mouth.
Billy blows cool air over where his tongue has been. He smiles when you toss your head to the side in response. After taking a long sip of warm tea, he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks. The heat and rush of blood is so good.
You try to rub your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, but his knees are between yours and you can't. Instead, as the tension at your chest makes your mind foggy, you clench and unclench, driving your pleasure higher.
He notices. He can read you. "Easy," he whispers. "Breathe." His eyes bear into yours, blue flame, and you nod, obeying him. He smiles. "Good girl."
Another whimper sounds in your throat. He rewards you with his mouth again.
"Oh, God," you sigh. "Yes. Please."
Not a single touch has drifted south of your navel yet, but that doesn't matter. The attention at your breasts is more than enough. Pleasure builds deep within your body at the touches Billy lavishes on you. Soon, your steady breaths are not so steady anymore. Your jaw is slack, your hands fists at your side.
"Yes, yes, yes!"
He pulls off your nipple only to latch onto your other one. His fingers replace his mouth quickly and between his finger and thumb he carefully twists and pulls on you. Teeth catch puckered skin, and the sensation sets your whole body aflame. It drives you higher and higher.
"P-please!"
His free hand is firm around your back and he holds you firmly in his strong arm. You're drunk on his attention, seeing stars, consumed by him, by your Billy. The attention on your nipples is everything you need, and it builds and builds and your vision blacks out, you lose all sense of the world, and, and-!
"Fuck! Fuck, Billy! Yes, yes-!"
"Good girl," he hisses with your nipple between his teeth. His eyes are fixed on your face. "Just like that, baby. You're doing so well-!"
"Oh, shit-!"
As your orgasm erupts within you, you swear and writhe, burning. You twist and turn and arch, pleasure washing over you and making you cry out. It's overwhelming. It rips through every cell until you're shaking and mewling.
Billy's attentions slow, and after a long moment of taking you through your long peak, he presses his forehead over your heart. Hands stroke your sides soothingly, down your hips and thighs, and back up to your arms.
Silence follows. It's only punctuated by your heavy breathing, his quiet noises of encouragement.
"That was so good," he praises softly. "You're so pretty when you come."
You sling an arm over your eyes, but laugh softly at the praise. With your orgasm, some tension has been relieved from your body, but the haze in your mind remains. "Billy..."
"You want more?"
With flushed cheeks, you nod.
"Where do you want me?"
You trace your skin and drag a long line down your chest, your stomach, your hip. You spread your thighs and rest one foot on the floor for balance. The other is thrown onto the back of the sofa.
Billy lets out a shaking breath. "Oh, baby. You're so generous. All for me?"
The arm that was over your eyes now reaches for him, and you hold his hand. Lacing your fingers together feels as intimate as anything else. The butterflies in your stomach take flight again. "You."
"I missed your taste so much." He slinks down your body and kneels in front of the sofa. Strong arms twist you so that your legs come to rest on his shoulders. "Look how ready you are for me. Oh, you're so pretty."
His mouth is watering at the sight of you. Glistening, swollen, hot. His toes curl.
"Please," you whisper.
"What do you want me to do, baby?"
The pet name makes your thighs twitch. You used to cringe when you heard people call their partners 'baby', but in the most intimate moments with Billy, it feels so right. You're his. "Your mouth."
"Should I use it for 'shit chat up lines'?" And despite the overwhelming desire that shrouds you both, he grins.
God, it's so pretty the way his lips pull up like that. It makes his eyes sparkle, brings out smile lines on his cheeks. He's so loveable. "No. The other thing."
"What other thing?"
"You know."
He kisses the inside of your knee where it rests on his shoulder. "I know. But I want to hear you say it."
You blush - you hear your heartbeat in your ears. You feel it rush between your legs. "Please, Billy. Eat me out."
He almost growls in relief. "God, you're such a good girl. Thank you for using your words for me."
The praise makes you whimper. He's so good at it.
Between your thighs, Billy bites his lip. And then he closes the distance, and he's home. There's no home without you, not really, and this is the hearth. Warmth, fire, comfort. He loves your soul - but it's your cunt he worships.
His fingers make a 'v' shape at the apex of your thighs to spread you wide for him. The sight of your swollen clit, red and wet, makes him groan quietly. He tilts your hips slightly and presses his tongue first to your entrance, and the briny saltness of your readiness makes his eyes close. Your taste. Your fucking taste.
"Look at me." Your voice floats in the air like a song. His eyes open quickly and meet yours. It sends bolts of pleasure through him to hold your gaze as he runs his tongue up your length. Beneath it, your pulse rushes. A testament to how much you need him. How desperate he makes you. It's a love letter, every beat.
His tongue is soft while he pries at your entrance. The nerves there are stimulated in response, and your stomach tenses and relaxes in a familiar rhythm. Like he did around your nipple, here, he circles in a steady pace until you're arching closer for something more. As he sucks on your soft folds, you throw your head back and whine.
"Billy," you moan. "That feels so fucking good."
You're rewarded with a long lick up to your bud. He can't resist ghosting his teeth over it, and when you squeal, he smiles against your cunt. Each time you glance down at him, you meet his gaze. He can't take his eyes off your face.
Between his legs, his cock is neglected and aching. There is no stimulation for him, no relief. But it's like he's sharing in your physical pleasure now. He applies pressure with the flat of his tongue to your clit and rubs it back and forth, and the pleasure that builds for you also does for him.
Then, he pulls back.
"Shit, Billy-!" You glance down at him, panting, and see how wet his chin and lips and nose are. It makes you proud. All for him.
He can't keep away from you for long, though. Only a few seconds of respite are given to you before his tongue finds its place back on you. You're so warm and silky against his mouth, it's heaven. So slick and wet, too, impossibly ready. Billy nods his head up and down - still holding your gaze like his life depends on it - and lets his tongue pry against your entrance. Just a little angle change, and his nose catches the underside of your clit.
"Yes!" you beg. "Just like that, right there!"
But he can do more for you. He can be better, always better. With your thick scent filling his nose, your salty taste filling his mouth, he nips at your folds and then finally, finally, seals his lips around your clit.
Stars pop in his eyes now, not just yours. His cheeks hollow out as he sucks on you. Arms clamp around your thighs, biceps straining to hold you fast. Your own hands bury into his sandy hair to stop him from moving, too. You're locked together, bodies and souls.
"Yes!" you encourage again. "Billy, I'm so close, I'm so close, keep going, please, pl-!"
His mouth fills with your taste, with his own saliva, and he keeps suckling on you. Pressure is building in your stomach and his, and your cries and moans and begs push him, push him, push him. It's too much, he'll crack soon, he can't last much longer, not with your own climax imminent-
"Billy! Billy! Oh my God, oh my God! Billy! Bill-"
The lips around your clit wrench an orgasm from you that makes you scream. Your knees tighten against his ears and your whole body shakes. It washes over you for five seconds, ten, fifteen-! Your throat is raw from the gutteral cries, your cunt is throbbing from the tension and release, tension and release.
And then Billy is moaning between your thighs. His blue eyes are fixed on yours. But they're blown wide, and his hands are trembling, and then his jaw is slack, and his whole body jerks once. You whimper when you realise what's happened. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen.
He’s come just from eating you out alone. No touch, no stimulation. Just making you finish has him spilling in his fucking trousers.
After a while, you both go limp. He barely has the strength left to climb on top of you on the sofa, but somehow he manages.
Minutes go by. Your breathing steadies. It matches up. Your hearts beat in tandem.
Peace reigns in your home.
After a while - minutes, hours, who knows? - you return to your body. The weight of Billy on top of you helps. Your hands find their way back into his hair, and you slowly massage his scalp.
"Mmm."
You smile at the noise he makes. "You're brilliant. You know that, right?"
His face is tucked into your neck, sweaty and sticky. "For that?"
"For everything."
"Mmm?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're good at that." You laugh quietly. It makes him shake a little on top of you. "But everything else, too. You picked me up from the airport. You made sure the flat was spotless. You bought me lavender."
He kisses your neck softly. "This is all I think of."
"Mm?"
"It's you, all for you. Everything I do."
You pull him closer and smile, letting your eyes close in bliss. "You're my heaven."
Billy strokes your sides. "You're my home."
#Billy Washington x female reader#billy washington x reader#billy washington x you#billy washington#ewan mitchell#trigger point#mine#billy multi
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WIP Wednesday
So I'll be sharing a snippet from a different fic today! If I share anymore of Bring Me Home, I may as well just post the entire first chapter. (Which, I will be looking for a new job and hopefully moving in 2 months or so, so I'll probably try and start posting after that. Get another chapter or two written in the meantime.)
This fic is also from a prompt that was submitted by @regonold to @stealingyourbones. I did part of a collab fill previously, but the idea has been living in my mind rent free and I couldn't help but want to take it on more fully. I've written 5.5k and this snippet is just under 900 words.
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The formal gardens beyond the iron gate filled Danny with dread. Vlad’s mansion had looked like this, too. But Jazz had promised him, over and over again, that the Waynes were nothing like the Fruit Loop while begging him to come. Besides, he’d spent weeks making sure his schedule was clear and making deals to prevent any interruptions. No backing out now. With a sigh, he pressed the button for the intercom.
“Good evening, may I ask your business?” asked a man with a British accent.
“Um, yeah. Good evening.” Why was it so much harder to communicate with other people as human Danny than ghost Phantom? “Um, I’m Danny. Jazz’s brother?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. We’ve been expecting you. Follow the drive up to the house and welcome.”
Motors activated and the gates slowly opened. Danny started the trek up the long driveway. His anxiety wasn’t relived when he saw the manor with it’s dark stone facade and literal tower. If it was made of lighter stones, it could have been a copy of Vlad’s castle.
“This is for Jazz,” he muttered under his breath as he walked up the stairs. Before he could knock on the doors, they opened and Jazz ran out to hug him.
“Danny! Thank you so much for coming! How’ve you been? I know you’re busy, but you need to call me more often.”
Danny hugged her back tightly. “Sorry, Jazz. You know how I lose track of time. So where’s this famous Jason?”
A man stepped forward and started speaking, but hanging off his back was a ghost. The ghost of the dead Robin, to be exact. Shit.
At least the position of the ghost meant he appeared to be looking at probably-Jason. Even if he didn’t hear a word the man said. To make it worse, Robin realized he could see him and was sending out help-me trills.
Danny had to bite hard on his tongue to keep from vocalizing his own comforting chirps.
He was so focused on Robin that he almost didn’t notice probably-Jason holding out his hand to shake. Laughing self-consciously, he took it. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
The other man hesitated a moment and asked, “Is everything all right?”
But all Danny could focus on was Robin hanging off Jason’s shoulders and sending out happy-sad-helpless feelings. Danny relaxed the hold he had on his ghost self and tried to sense what was going on. But he had to reassure the human, too. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But wow, was Jason not. Where had he come into contact with such weird ectoplasm? It seemed to twist every emotion into anger and fear and violence.
Even worse was Robin. He was barely perceptible even to Danny’s enhanced senses.
Of course, Jazz was liminal enough to realize he was doing something. Quietly, she chirped a question.
Danny just shook his head and pulled back his power. “Later,” he murmured.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said back, just as quietly.
Louder, Danny said, “Sorry. I just have bad memories about large manors like this. Has Jazz told you about Vlad?”
“He’s come up a time or two. With the black hair and blue eyes, someone will probably make an adoption joke at you before the night is over. But I’ll stab them if they do.”
Danny's laugh would have been much less forced had he not just felt the twisted anger inside probably-Jason. “Just don’t hit anything vital,” he said, hoping it sounded like a joke.
Robin rolled his eyes—and how could he do that so obviously with a mask on?—and tried to pull on Jason to lead him inside.
“Well, it might be summer, but Gotham is never warm. Come on in and I’ll introduce you to everyone,” said Jason.
Jazz grabbed his hand as they made their way inside where they were greeted warmly by an elderly gentleman.
“You must be Mr. Danny. Welcome to the Manor. I’m Alfred. Dinner will be served in one hour and please let me know if you need anything. Your sister stated you didn’t have any dietary restrictions?”
“What’s that?” Danny was trying not to stare at Robin who was now hugging the older man. Before Alfred could repeat himself, however, Danny’s brain caught up to the human conversation. “Oh, uh, no. I don’t. Jazz is right.”
“Very good. Can I take your coat and bag?”
Danny did shrug off his backpack, but only so he could also take off his coat. “Can I keep the bag? I don’t feel comfortable without it on me.”
“Very well.” Alfred hung the coat up on a rack right next to the door. “Master Jason, be sure to show him where the bathroom is on your way to join the others. Mr. Danny, there are plenty of drinks in the sitting room where everyone is relaxing should you need a refreshment.” And he finally had confirmation that this was Jason!
“’Course I will, Alfie.”
“Thanks,” said Danny, though he was more focused on the desperate chirps Robin was sending out.
I’m here-notice me-I love you.
Looks like he was breaking his promise to Jazz to not do any ghostly business tonight. Of course Jazz’s boyfriend would be haunted by a ghost that needed help. Why was he even surprised?
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As far as I know, there hasn't been a lot of requests for a tag list on this one. @addie-lover-of-stories is the only one I noticed. But let me know and I'll start one!
Next Part
#dp x dc#danny fenton#jazz fenton#jason todd#anger management#alfred pennyworth#i reread everything ive written today for the first time in a week or two#and theres some scenes i cant wait to share with others#it'll be fun#for danny at least#the bats not so much
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The keychain joke has been living rent free in my head for about a week now.
Context:
I'm referring to this from the August 11th stream.
#qsmp#qsmp tallulah#qsmp philza#qsmp chayanne#qsmp fanart#qsmp eggs#philza fanart#philza#tallulah#tallulah fanart#i havent seen people talk about it idk#chayanne#chayanne fanart#chayanne the egg#chayanne and tallulah#phil tallulah chayanne#tallulah the egg
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okay finale thoughts
I don't think they took out any scenes but I do think it's funny that they renamed the title of the episode
hughie's... counter-proposal I guess? was so genuinely sweet that I'm mad it wasn't real
On that. 3rd time in back to back episodes not even 5 minutes in. That's gotta be a record. I thought they were actually going to acknowledge it as assault when he seemingly got very upset about the pegging joke she made and started squeezing the water bottle, but I guess not. My hope is that all the criticism they received while handling all of this, they'll actually take and acknowledge it in the show
Hughie canon bottom but at what cost...........
BUTCHER WITH THE TEMP-V INDUCED WHITE HAIR STREAKS. MY HEADCANON IS REAL
I think it's so funny that Butcher's last wish was for hughie to go to some random hooters in Nevada for him. Part of me wonders if he knew about the stupid Maid in Manhattan tour he went on entirely because it was his dad's last wish and wanted to see what he would agree to if he sounded sad enough about it
Ashley my problematic queen I hope you get to have fucking awesome scary superpowers next season and help take down the supes w the gang
Just. Shoutout to Erin Moriarty for being an insanely talented actress. Love that the shapeshifter just kept biting people as her go-to attack. Fucking knocked it out of the park
Annie choking the shapeshifter to death instead of using her powers felt symbolic somehow but it's 4 in the morning and I can't think about it rn. Good for her either way.
They also never actually explained why her powers just. Stopped working?? I'm guessing it was an emotional thing but I felt like things didn't change THAT much by the end of the season for her to suddenly be charged up enough to fly?
Okay but also. I'm kind of mad that they didn't acknowledge what the shapeshifter did to Hughie was assault and not only that but they had Annie get mad at HIM about it. Like girl hello???? Out of literally everyone I would expect at least Annie to understand, but for some reason they show loves having them have relationship drama that comes from fucking nowhere
That being said, I am SO glad they didn't break up again. That would have fucking sucked. Curious if the engagement thing will ever come up again since she got the ring back. I imagine if it does it'll be the end of the show
Also his little "FUCK YESSS" fist pump to himself. I just need to take a second to appreciate that that was so funny LMAO
I'm not gonna lie... I actually got pretty on-board with the Frenchie Kimiko QPR. aroace Kimiko you still live in my head rent free
I just know. I just KNOW. There's going to be SO MANY tentacle smut fics about Butcher by the end of the week. You horny motherfuckers are going to eat that shit up
Also going to be honest. I'm kind of mad they took out Neuman. She was such an interesting character and I always thought her views didn't conflict at all with the rest of The Boys, so I was really hoping for a redemption arc. She also had such an interesting dynamic with both Hughie and Annie (and Zoe having beef with Kimiko is fucking great). Idk she could have been a fun addition to the group
I was actually kind of excited to see The Boys split off to different countries and have to come back together next season, but I think them all getting kidnapped (and presumably thrown in prisons?) is much more interesting. I kind of hope they let Hughie be the main character again next season now that Butcher has gone off the rails and might? be a villain next season? But I know it's probably going to be Annie
Kimiko speaking I kind of assumed would happen at some point (since they established that as kind of her arc this season with the speech therapy) but I'm excited to see if that goes anywhere next season. I think best case scenario, she has selective mutism and only goes verbal sometimes. They've been pretty good about her disability so far
also speaking of, I've been trying to figure out what her sign for each of The Boys' names are and. is Hughie's supposed to look like someone running away because that's so funny if true (it's hard to tell because the captions are obviously not synced up with the visuals on her signing)
My overall thoughts are kinda... eh. This season ultimately felt directionless to me, too many plotlines trying to happen all at once and while I think individual episodes were really good, as a whole nothing felt super connected (I mean, in episode 6 Hughie was super fucked up over his dad's death and presumably what happened at Tek Knight's party, but episode 7 they just seem to have completely forgotten that he's having an active mental breakdown, a trend that continues into episode 8. And that's just one example from this season). I also think they fumbled the supes' plotline at the very end. I trusted the writers that they actually knew what Sage's plan was, but it mostly just seems like she swooped in at the end to tell us her plan worked, without saying what it actually was. I was hoping there was going to be actual clever writing there, but I guess it's hard to write the world's smartest character if she's only as smart as the writer's room can be.
I understand that, ultimately, it's incredibly difficult to write satisfying arcs with very limited time (this is an issue of streaming in general, not specifically an issue with The Boys), so I don't really fault them for that. I just hope next season is more focused.
The biggest problem with season 3 is, obviously, Hughie getting sexually assaulted three times in 3 back-to-back episodes, with zero acknowledgement (and on one occasion, implied mockery) from the show itself or anyone involved. I REALLY hope they take the criticism and actually make something of it next season, or at least acknowledge that it was fucked up.
Anyway, not a terrible season, but it had a lot of glaring issues. I'm holding out hope for season 5 being good, but it'll be another year or two before we get it anyway, so...
#the boys#the boys tv#the boys amazon#the boys season 4 spoilers#in the meantime there's always fanfiction
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Can you imagine if the Mario bros from the movie met with their game counterparts?
There’s so much potential there, if they are so similar but so different: take Mario who has grown up in Brooklyn, never felt like he was making a difference, and JUST discovered a magical world where he belongs, compared to Mario who has grown up in the mushroom kingdom, is a world wide hero doing enough feats of talent to show that he lives up to the fame in a week, and has live as a hero his whole life
Plus there’s different mechanics and story lines, imagine if one of the game Mario bros die but come back with an extra life and just act like it’s normal, what if they swap universes for a day and you have a new inexperienced Mario meets classic characters and a experienced Mario meeting a Peach who had to fill his role as the jack of all trades
I thought this was a really cool obvious idea but I haven’t seen anyone else’s take on it
It's funny you should bring it up! Because even though I've never written it down (and probably will never write it down) I've thought about a situation where Movie Mario and Game Mario suddenly switch places due to some interdimentional fluke or magic gone awry.
Both Marios are extremely confused, but they are both communicative about what happened and how– though they are Mario– something's gone wrong, and their life is suddenly very different from what they remember. Both Luigis and Peaches help out however they can. They eventually succeed in piecing together what happened, and start forming a plan to undo the weird dimensional change and get their own Marios back.
Some possible scenes that live in my head rent-free:
Game Luigi is surprised to find himself the voice of experience for once, helping this alternate version of his big brother understand the mechanics of this new world. Game Luigi regales him with stories of all the foes they faced over the years, and Movie Mario is fascinated, amazed, and a little intimidated by it all.
Game Mario suggests he and Movie Luigi stock up on "1-ups" before they enter a dangerous situation. Movie Luigi asks "what's a 1-up?" Game Mario thinks he's joking. Movie Luigi is not joking. Game Mario realizes the situation is far more dire than he thought.
Game Mario having dinner with Movie Mario's family
The moment Movie Mario lays eyes on Game Bowser he is completely on edge. His fists are raised and he's ready to throw down, already motioning for Game Luigi to get behind him. Game Bowser very quickly decides he likes this version of Mario– a little temperamental and rightfully fearful of him. The feeling isn't mutual.
Game Mario is startled by exactly how ruthless Movie Bowser is, and how risky fighting him is now that there are no extra lives involved. He doesn't like to show it, but he's more scared than he's ever been before. Luigi sees the fear despite Mario's attempts to conceal it, and takes a moment to comfort him.
The moment anyone is the least bit mean or condescending to Game Luigi, Movie Mario is on their case. Whether it's an enemy, a toad, or a royal representative, he makes it crystal clear that nobody is allowed to talk to Luigi like that– he doesn't care technically isn't his Luigi. Game Luigi tries to assure Movie Mario that it's fine, but Movie Mario won't hear it.
Game Mario is not quite sure what to make of Movie Peach. Of course he's protective and respectful as always, but the fact that she's so fiercely independent and an incredible fighter is not something he knows what to do with. He's been protecting her for so long...
Game Bowser and Movie Bowser would like each other at first. Then, the longer they talk, the more they rub each-other the wrong way, until eventually they're throwing fists and fire balls.
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Feedback Fest 2024
Since everything I've read for the past 1.5 years has been pilots, all 10 of the fics here are Kara/Lee from Battlestar Galactica. I'm only listing one fic per author, so be sure to check individual author pages if you liked their style.
(go here over on @transformativeworks for more info!)
1. In the Whole World by pennyante (M, ~80K, WIP)
Summary:
The Cylons aren't quite human, and the humans haven't quite forgiven them. Political stability is less certain than ever now that the war is over: Lee Adama finds himself up for re-election, where being defeated will mean a Gemenese theocracy puppeteered by Leoben Conoy. Meanwhile, Kara Thrace has nothing but questions about her death and destiny. The only answers available come in the form of the vision of a temple, and from her hybrid/comatose husband's cryptic ramblings about a sister artifact to the Arrow of Apollo.
There's violence in the air. Civil war looms. Can Lee and Kara save each other, and keep the fledgling colony whole?
Thoughts: The best season 4 fix-it, lives in my head rent free, rewired my brain, etc. Also I've read it, like, 3 times (and I cried).
2. We're Not Friends by ninety6tears (M, ~25K)
Summary:
When two soldiers in the middle of a war can't seem to like each other, baptism by fire is apparently the natural solution. (AU in which Kara never knew Zak and first meets Lee after the fall of the colonies.)
Thoughts: I love a different first meeting AU, and this one takes pilots on a fun rivals to lovers spin that works surprisingly well. They're still very unwell about each other, though, make no mistake.
3. Artemis Rising by clairza (M, ~11K)
Summary:
The next morning Lee makes a few phone calls, and when everything has been organized and his credit card has been used for the first time in three months, and he’s had the pleasure of telling his mother that no, he has plans this week, he tracks Kara down in the quad.
She's lying on her stomach poking sticks upright in the grass. He sits down beside her, and he can see the tension in her shoulders.
“So,” he says casually, and he’s very proud of the way his voice doesn’t shake at all. “I hear the Aegean Peninsula is nice this time of year.”
“It probably is.”
“I’ve booked a unit.”
“Where are you going with this, Lee?” Thoughts: I have a huge soft spot for fluffy academy pilots and this fic absolutely delivers. Happy baby pilots go to the beach five stars no notes.
4. An Arranged Meeting by lark_ral (E, ~11K)
Summary: Even outside of wartime, you might be surprised by the pressures our service men and women are under. The most effective among them either have, or need a release valve. Thoughts: Lee and Kara are scene partners for years, then the Cylons come. Somehow less messy than the show, but still delicious.
5. Rota by leda13 (E, ~2K)
Summary: The days are arbitrary, in space. Bereft of the guide of a planet's rotation around the sun, they live in slices of time, stealing as many as they can. Thoughts: Emotional support curtain fic of pilots sneaking around.
6. Sufficient to the Day by rachelindeed (T, ~1.5K)
Summary: At the sound of Lee’s voice, she feels her stomach twist and drop. Reluctantly, she opens her eyes and sees him come to a stop an arm’s length away, settling one elbow onto the corner of the bleacher behind her. His jacket is unbuttoned, his hair mussed, jaw ghosted with stubble, and the frakking sun is rising behind him. The look on his face is casual and fond, but he breathes as if he’s been running. Thoughts: Mandatory UB morning after fix-it...sort of. I really like this one because all I wanted was for Lee to get to Kara first. Or for him to call her bluff. This fic is both. It's not a showdown on main street like I enjoy joking about, but it's quiet and it's them (so it's better!).
7. Contrecoup by Fahye (T, ~2.2K)
Summary:
Contrecoup (n): A concussion or shock produced by a blow or other injury, in a part or region opposite to that at which the blow is received, often causing rupture or disorganisation of the parts affected. (One story told right-way-up, the other told upside-down, but both in the same narrative.)
We begin at a single point in time. The present goes forwards. The past goes backwards.
The story is AU-within-canon and set after episode 1x11, "Colonial Day."
Thoughts: I can't say too much because I don't want to spoil the fic. So: a bit angsty, a lot sweet, with a side of Kara's amazing problem-solving skills.
8. Lee's Emo Coffeehouse by haycorn (M, ~2.9K)
Summary: Lee has a bar, and sometimes Kara makes his life more interesting. Thoughts: I love cute modern AUs in general, and I love them even more when there's pining involved. There's not nearly enough of this type of fic for pilots, either! Many thanks to the author for their service. Would read 100K of this 'verse.
9. Breathing Room by callmeonetrack (M, ~12K)
Summary: Kara and Lee adjust to their new, very separate lives on the Pegasus. Badly.
Thoughts: My favorite Pegasus fic! Being on the Pegasus sucks, but then Lee and Kara find each other and things get better. Chef's kiss, peak pilots.
10. And I Feel Fine by hazellazer (M, ~2.4K)
Summary:
“That was… that… why?”
Her hands stay firmly on his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. “I was just thinking—”
Cutting her off, he smirks. “You think?”
She swats at his arm, hard enough that it might actually bruise. “I thought you were dead, Lee.” Her gaze is harsh on his, voice rasping, before something softens. “And I should’ve done this the second I knew you weren’t.” Thoughts: Season 1, but Lee and Kara are together. It's nice, refreshing, and plain good.
#IFD2024#feedback fest#international fanworks day#starpollo#battlestar galactica#fic recs#pilotfic is delicious#rip me bsg blogging in 2024
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Sorry for lack of posts, this is the final week to kind of wrap everything up this semester (technically it ends on next Wednesday, but I would prefer to to have everything done before the due dates just in case something went wrong). I have decided to hold off on major posts/stories until everything is done for the semester, but will make smaller posts as they're easy and fast to do for me. Also because I really want to share with you guys :) So, here are some fun Finfolk Home headcanons that have been in my head rent free.
Home may not be the strongest in the sea right now, but he sure is the most forgiving. At least to Wally he is. Most sea gods aren't very nice to mortals or even other immortals. Think Greek mythology kind of mean, like you could look at this one dude the wrong way and BAM, you are a fish forever now.
It's really no surprise that Home lives under the islands where his presence is well hidden. Not even other sea gods know he exists (not like they move from their "territories" anyways), it's kind of impressive when you think about it.
Wally and the others don't really know the full extent of Home's abilities but they do know he has enough power to be considered a sea god when compared to others. Maybe one day they will witness his true might? That would be terrifying and exciting.
Being hidden all the time can get lonely though. Very rarely, and I mean RARELY (maybe every few hundred years even) does Home decide to visit the mainland himself.
It's too easy to blend in really. Sort of. He may be out of touch with how things are sometimes. I'm sure he'd be more prone to acting like someone's dad or something with how many puns and jokes he makes. Usually he takes on the form of a well-dressed lion. His own little joke really, he's a sea lion. (Get it?)
I honestly just imagine this lion with greying fur tips, wearing old overalls, and worn fishing boots sipping away at coffee in a quiet cafe somewhere near the coast. I feel like drawing him later...the dude sounds like an old fisherman.
#welcome home#welcome home finfolk au#welcome home au#finfolk#welcome home arg#wally darling#welcome home wally darling#home#welcome home home#finfolk wally darling
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