#this was just another cherry on top of the stupid sundae

[tired-momfriend]

Lol I said something that I thought was right (but apparently isn't) and my friend corrected me in a rude way in front of a bunch of people who I'd just met, subsequently making me look stupid when I was just misinformed

I'm gonna sell everything I own and flee the country 👋👋

[deviousdevilx]

Here ya go @rosie-tyler @theweirdcobrakaifan

it +18 !

Daniel knew it was foolish, stupid really to follow the long haired man into the spa, but he needed answers. Having left Chozen behind, Daniel set off on his investigation.

He immediately regretted it, the moment he confronted his kidnapper who stood next to Sensei Wolf.

"You sent this thug to kidnap me? Why?" Daniel accuses the younger sensei, but before Sensei Wolf could answer, a recognizable voice replied instead.

"Because Danny boy...what would life be without a few surprises?"

Daniel never wanted more than for the floor to swallow him up in that moment. Of course Terry Silver was back, and of course he'd pull a move like this.

"You were behind my kidnapping?"

Smoking a rather large cigar, lounging in a large bubbly jacuzzi, Terry Silver smugly grins, "Your obsession with your mentor's past made it way too easy."

Terry smirks from the jacuzzi before waving off Sensei Wolf, and the thug, Dennis, once used to harass Daniel all those years ago, but right now Terry wants to be alone with his Danny boy.

Stunned, scrambling to form words, any retort, really, Daniel knows he should just walk out but pauses. Terry's men could or would likely be behind the door.

Fuck it. He's stressed beyond words. Johnny leaving, the tournament, the kidnapping, the latter which was due to the man before him.

The jacuzzi looked inviting, if only it was unoccupied, but beggars can't be choosers.

Daniel swiftly removes his sweater, than shirt, for once leaving Terry Silver speechless. No witty remark, or comment. Just silence, as Daniel strips.

"I've had a real shitty last few days, some of which can be blamed on you...a fucking dog cage?" Daniel starts rambling angrily, as he works on removing his pants.

The shock wears off Terry's mind as he watches Daniel strip before him in all his glory. He'd always admired Daniel's lithe slender form. Even at his age, Daniel was beautiful. Always was, always will be. So he sits in silence, enjoying the view as Daniel continues to rant.

"Ever since we arrived here, shit's gone wrong, the kids are stressed, I'm stressed, Johnny and Miguel had to leave, Carmen's in the hospital, not that you'd give a damn. I've learned some things about Mr. Miyagi, Kreese is fucking with my head...and now you! You're here, like a fucking cherry on top of my shitty sundae of a week!"

Naked, furious, Daniel climbs into the jacuzzi. He finally realizes what he has done, and the ravenous stare he is now getting from Terry.

Before he can react, Terry pulls Daniel on to his lap, and it becomes very apparent he's quite pleased with Daniel being naked in this jacuzzi.

"You sound stressed Daniel, and I know just how to relieve it."

A large warm hand creeps up over Daniel's thigh, fingers massaging the skin. Daniel is unable to move much now, with Terry's one arm wrapped snugly around Daniel's middle. The taller, old man was not about to let Daniel squirm away free.

He should know better than to let Terry fucking Silver jerk him off in the jacuzzi, but Daniel is beyond reasonable thinking the moment Terry's lip touch the back of his neck, gliding down to suck where his neck meets his shoulder.

Terry's very large hand wraps around Daniel's semi-erect cock, and pumps it to life. In a matter of minutes, Terry has Daniel writhing, moaning, and gasping on his lap, dissolving into a trembling mess. His own erection pressing against Daniel's firm round little ass. Maybe not today, but it would soon penetrate past those sweet little cheeks.

Right now, Terry is solely focused on pleasuring his Danny boy.

"That's it, that's it Danny boy, come for me," Terry whispers into Daniel's ear sensing the other is very close to release.

"Mmh harder, faster!" Daniel urges with a whine.

Anything for his Danny boy.

Afterwards, Terry has Daniel wrapped in a thick cozy bathrobe, and leads him into another room for a pleasant full body massage. By him of course. Maybe later he'd have Daniel ride him.

After supper, perhaps.

[switchbladedreamz]

I Want You, Dumbass.

He owns my entire soul.

Requested?: nah

Rating: R, once again lots of cursing. Bc its fun

Summary: Logan has his eyes pried open, figuratively, a little perspective forced onto him by Charles. It helps him see things for what they really are. For who you really are.

PLS REBLOG IT HELPS ALL BLOGS GROW🥰 COMMENT AND LIKE🫀

~~~~Logan's Point of View, 5:08am

Ripping off the sheet and blanket that cover me, my skin pebbles in goosebumps from the new chill in the air. "God damn it." I huff out quietly into the dark. I tossed and turned all night. Can't get decent shut eye. I turn to lay on my side. Staring in the darkness where my closed door would be. For five hours I've tried and failed to sleep. No matter how hard I will with closed eyes it never comes. All I can think about is her. For once I'm not thinking about Jean.. It's her. Y/n. It feels different when I think about her. 'Did I fuck it all up? What have I done..' These are the thoughts that have plagued me while sleep is nowhere to be found. I have class in three hours but I can't ...I can't bring myself to care right now. 'Why did I have to ask her out? Was it on purpose that I overheard their conversation? No, that's stupid.' I don't really believe in fate. Y/n and I had a perfectly good chummy coworker thing and I just had to go and blow it all up. Jesus fucking Christ when will I learn. 'once..just once can I have something..real. Do I even know what I want? I know what I don't want.. No Striker, no old friends' granddaughters, no having a boyfriend when we meet.' I beat myself up for who knows how long when 'bbbbrrrrriiinng bbbrrriiiingg bbrrr-'. My alarm pulls me out of the self-pity parade I had grown comfortable in for the past..well when I realized I couldn't sleep nine hours ago. Another day, another dollar, another student turned into a scholar.

"Alright everybody, I want those papers on my desk by 8 am next class Thursday morning. And no wikipedia! Okay, class dismissed." The students scramble out of their chairs, feet scuffling quickly across the floor. They can't get out fast enough. Heh. 'alone again.' thoughts creep in from the shadowy parts of my consciousness. 'aaah self pity, the oldest pain in my ass.'

Pacing back and forth in the empty classroom. I cant help but rewind the events of the last three days in my head. Over and over like the world's worst rollercoaster. Karma is hanging my ass out to dry. Like a dumbass I asked my coworker out and it backfired only to find out she has feelings for me. That was three days ago. The next day I found the only bar in town worth a fuck burned down. All that is left is a damn charred husk of load bearing beams and an empty parking lot. Oh I can't forget that a new student whose...gift...is acid spit and lunch did not agree with her so guess who got sprayed with acid puke and hotdogs in the middle of a lesson about World War II. It hurt like a bitch. And the fucking cherry on top of this sundae is that Jean and Scott are getting married. They announced their engagement last night. Cheers to the happy couple.

Jesus. Here I am goin on and on lamenting as if I could do anything to fix these problems. Except the first one, I'll admit. Charles enters the room. Hank, who usually is one step behind him is nowhere to be found. "Anything I can do to help Logan?" My head snaps towards. A growl at the bottom of my throat. I can feel my back muscles flexing like hackles raising on a cat. I need to calm down. "Charles I told you to stay outta my head." He looks at me with pity..i hate that fuckin look in his eyes.

"You're practically broadcasting your thoughts all over the school. I didn't need to use my power to know what you're thinking." I sigh heavily and sit down. "In any case", Charles continues, "I'd like to help with your troubles with Ms. L/n. Or at the very least make sure you don't pace a track into the hardwood floor." The quiet whir of his chair is an oddly comforting sound. My elbows brace on my knees as my head falls heavily into my hands. "What do I do?" I hate feeling vulnerable. "Apologize to Y/n, she's a forgiving person..within reason. Let the chips fall where they may afterwards. Oh, and Lilly feels terrible about the incident in class today. She asked me to pass on her apologies, sweet girl. As for Scott and Jean, put on a brave face as always." My head quirks up. "Really? A brave face? That's all the advice the acclaimed Professor Xavier has?" I scoff. What a help. "It's what you always do when it comes to those two and it's all you can do.....She's made her choice." Charles' voice softens at the end. Her choice. Her choice. It's never me. I look at her and it doesn't even feel the same any more and it pisses me off. I feel nothing when she looks at me. And that's what makes me burn. "Logan have you ever considered the difference in the way you're seen by Jean and Y/n?" My head raises, my confusion pours out through my question, "Whaddya mean?"

"I mean, Jean... She sees your exterior. The illusions, the gruff-cigar-smoking-bad-boy-who-listens-to-no-one. But if that were true..you wouldn't be here. Even I have my limits and tolerances. If you truly didn't care about anyone or anything but yourself as Jean may believe then what are you doing here? I'm not questioning your place here but rather putting things into perspective. Now as for how Y/n sees you. She sees a kind man with a big heart who keeps people at arms length and hurts them before they have a chance to hurt you. That's how I see you. We can see the great man you are yet to become. Now who do you think is more deserving of your time? Lastly perhaps consider the fact that Y/n did not reject you because she doesn't want you, but she wants you so much she couldnt use you to hurt herself because of the love she holds for herself. Did that make sense? Anyways what I'm trying to say is that it was an act of self-preservation." I look at Charles. I really look at him, studying the expression on his face as his words process. There's nothing in his voice that indicates blame, deceit, judgement. He's simply trying to help me. I've made my decision. "Thanks, professor. See ya around" I get up from the chair and as I walk past Xavier I pat his shoulder, "You too Logan." he responds.

I'm laying on my bed. Charles' advice ruminates in my mind while I pull in a drag of smoke off the cigar between my fingers. Debating if I should have a drink or not. Then I remembered the bar burned down...... Well ..shit.

~~~~

All I've thought about since last night is how i could apologize. One thing I respect about Y/n is she's straight forward, so I figure thats how she would want me to approach this. In a few strides I cross the wide hall, before I have a chance to overthink I'm knocking on Y/n's door. 'We alternate days for history, she's gotta be here somewhere but if they're not in here I don't know where-' my thoughts are interrupted by the door opening and the scent of dahlias invades my senses. "Oh hi, what can I do for you Logan?" I notice her glasses slide up her nose as her head tilts up to make eye contact with me. There's music playing in the background. "Uhm" at a loss for words, I turn my head right and look down the hallway then left at the stairs. "Can we talk?" She nods and opens the door wider for me. After closing the door I watch her walk across the room, pausing the sounds of thrashing guitars and double kick drums from the speaker by the open window.

"Well look what the cat dragged in. You know I didn't take you for the groveling type but you look pretty on your knees." My mind blanks, ..out of all the different ways I'd imagined they'd react. "W-wh..uh" i fumbled to find a response. Her head falls back and she laughs "Oh darlin' I knew you couldn't resist me."

I half laugh half wheeze, not expecting this to be her reaction. "Y/n. I came to apologize. I'm real sorry about the other day--"

"Oh its fine, theres no need to apologize. Really. So you fucked up, and I've heard about the awful past few days you've had. I'd say your reckoning has been wrought." There's a shit eating grin on her face. "Hmm. So now what?" I ask, too damn confused. Y/n replies "How about you take a few days to figure what you want then get back to me." I look at her, "get back to you? That's it?" She huffs out a chuckle. "Yep. Simple as that. Figure out what you really want, when you get back to me we'll see if what it is the either wants and if it lines up together. You know, like adults."

"And what is it that you want?" Mischief and longing sparkle in here eyes, framed by the lenses of her glasses. "I want you, dumbass. I want a real relationship." I walk over to her, standing in front of her. She looks up at me. "Is this few days thing mandatory?" My hand touches her bicep. She glanced at my hand then up to my face. " 'fraid so darlin" I chuckle, "Well I'll see you in a few days then."

~~~

Sorry it's so short!! Please enjoy🖤🖤

[whoopsmorewhump]

It's okay just to say 'I'm not okay' (platonic stobin fic)

Robin and Steve feel each other’s pain more than they’ll admit, even to each other. From Whumptober day 30, “It’s okay just to say I’m not okay” bridal carry; plus, another lovely prompt from pearlravenlapis (not quoted here, as it gives too much plot away!)

Rated T; no warnings; Also on AO3.

***

The day had started more than okay.

This adorable girl rocked up at Scoops, with the latest issue of “UFO Reality” tucked under her arm. Robin blurted: “You read it yet? The story on alien skulls inscribed with teeny, snack-sized messages from Elvis totally slayed me dead.”

Dream-girl’s shy smile turned Robin’s knees to jello.

She introduced herself as Maud, and they chatted UFOs for the next forever. Right until a square-jawed, smug-as-hell knucklehead loped into the store, and Maud announced he was her boyfriend.

Now, Robin watched her latest unrequited crush sharing a Strawberry Sundae Extra with her excruciatingly not-worthy-of-her date.

“Seriously, Robin,” said Steve, levelling at her shoulder. “I’ve seen more electricity between a pair of squashed ants. They’re not even talking.” 

Robin wasn’t in the mood for chirpy delusion: “That’s because they’re mainlining ice-cream, Steve.”

“She’s hardly stuffing her face. She couldn’t stop blabbering with you.”

Unable to endure the sight any longer, Robin swung her attention onto him. He was chewing on… Hmmm, to be fair, that was only his first banana of the day. Unusual. He dumped half of it, uneaten, on the hatch.

“Did she even actually wanna talk to me?” wondered Robin out loud. “I honestly can’t remember if she got a word in edgeways. You know how it is, when I can’t stop talking. It’s a fault, believe me I know—"

“You were fine. You said stuff. Maud said stuff back. And it’s not a fault—your mom spouts nasty bullshit, you should accept that. My point is, that girl you like totally—”

“—hates me.” Robin sighed.

“No. She’s probably confused.” He sniffed, pushed his hair from his brow. “She should dump that moron’s ass. Who hangs out in an ice-cream joint when it's this damn cold? It’s practically snowing out there."

"It's not cold in here, Steve.”

“It’s goddamn freezing! I mean, it’s this stoopid outfit—what fascist dictator makes their staff wear shorts in winter?”

“Stopped caring. I'm too institutionalised into looking like a dweeb.” She peeped back, to where Maud spooned a cherry into that jack-ass jock’s cakehole. Argh! She wanted to scream. Instead, she mumbled: “Shit-birds, do you think Maud thinks I'm a dweeb?”

“Jesus, how many times? Look, she reads dweeby UFO mags. So do you! Beyond that, I’m not an alien mind-probe, so quit bugging me already.” She gawked at him—wtf? He skittered his fingers over his eyes, groaned. “Sorry. This stupid cold is making me cranky. I honestly reckon Maud liked you. It’s just—”

“—horribly, insanely, eternally complicated?” Her fists clenched so tight her fingernails gouged her palms. On top of it all, she’d suddenly gotten this anxious dread, churning in her gut. Huh? Go figure. “I guess I’ll just keep smiling through. See my customer service smile?”

She bared her teeth maniacally.

“Remind me to get a mask of that for Halloween.”

“That bad, huh?”

He smiled, kinda pensively. “Nah. If I was a babe into babes, I’d still be battering down your door.”

She wanted to hug him then—despite his germs, which she was kinda grateful she hadn’t caught. Yet. A bratty little mall rat clanged on the bell, Steve hurried off to serve, and Robin continued feeling really, really shit. Right up until he caught her in the backroom, dabbing runny eyeliner with her knuckles.

She turned her back on him. Habit, really.

“Hey.” His hand landed softly on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

“Nothing new.” It’s her turn to sniffle.

“Look, I’m sorry I chewed your head off."

“You apologised already, Steve.”

“I’m apologising again. For the whole goddamn human race. I mean, I totally get your thing with UFOs, because, honestly, you deserve another planet. A better one. Worse thing is, I used to think like the dumbest dumbass in this world of crazy, till I met you, and now… Look, things will be better for you someday, because nobody deserves it more. Till then, I know it sounds cliché, but I’m here for you, and I guess… I dunno, when you have this much bullshit to put up with, it's okay just to say you’re not okay sometimes.”

She flung his arms around him and sobbed noisily into his shoulder. He patted her back, then rubbed soothing circles, and she sobbed even harder. She didn’t really know why she was crying. Yeah, what he said touched her deeply. But she’d never been a random public crier, today’s flop was nothing out of the ordinary, and she couldn’t even blame her monthly cycle… Uuuurgh.

She lifted her face, sniffed hard, grimaced. “I made your uniform all soggy.”

“No sweat. I dig your snot.” His sarcasm dropped off: “Any better?”

She shrugged. Superficially, yes, she felt less doom-y. Her catastrophic life remained just that, however, and that weird unfocussed dread loomed ever larger. 

He reached into his pocket, brought out a paper napkin. “It’s clean, honest. Although I guess the cost of that hug was probably catching my cold, so who cares, huh?”

“I care.” Ew! “And yeah, that had occurred.” She still couldn’t quite bring herself to regret the hug. However much she hated them with anybody else, she had to admit that it’d released happy chemicals. She blew her nose noisily. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Uh, you’ll probably need another for the eyeliner. There’s black goop, like, everywhere.”

She whipped out a powder compact with a mirror. Oh yeah. She’d gone for the full-on Joker look. Possibly, this was why she averted her despairing attention and started scrutinising Steve.

“Steve, are you okay? You look kinda—”

“—terminally dweeby? Or terminally dweeby and totally wrecked?” Catching his own reflection in the little mirror, he dabbed his slightly-less-buoyant-than-usual hair back into place.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a bit peaky.”

“It’s just this stupid cold. Plus, the crappy lighting in this dump. Seriously, sometimes guys need make-up too.”

She used her mirror to stare at him harder than herself now. Yeah, he looked pale, the shadows around his eyes nearly as shouty as her make-up malfunction. She snapped the mirror closed, spiralled back to face him.

“Steve, something else is wrong, isn’t it?”

“Woah! You’re, like, witchy when you do that, right?”

“Witchy?”

“Okay, maybe a bit psychic.”

“Alien brain-probe-y?”

“Yeah, that too. I mean, I figured I didn’t want to bother you, but…” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Let's just say my father has been extra cranky and disappointed in me lately, even by his short-tempered standards. That means extra shouty, and…” He rubbed his brow wearily. “Makes me feel even shitter about my life, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.” She longed to pay back that hug, though even with Steve, she was too squirmy and inexperienced to initiate one. He left then, anyway, heading back out front.

They were both uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the day. He seemed exhausted, and smothered increasingly regular bouts of coughing. She wanted simply to get home, bypass her mom’s daily character assassination, and then sob and bitch to herself about life in general. 

When she finally sank her face into the soon-to-be disgusting and soggy pillow, that feeling of dread overwhelmed her. She simply couldn’t stop worrying about Steve, to the point she felt ill. Which was ridiculous. After all, he was at the end of a phone line, right?

She snuck out past her mom—who was howling her butt off at some screamingly homophobic sit-com—and dialled Steve’s number. When his dad answered, she gritted her teeth, forced herself to be mega polite. 

“Hi there, Mr Harrington. Sorry to disturb you. Is Steve there, please? It’s Robin.”

“Robin? Are you the latest girlfriend?”

“No,” she managed to grind out. “I’m the… friend-friend.”

“Don’t try to be cute.” Seriously, I wasn’t! “If you see him, tell him he owes me a thousand bucks.”

The line went dead. Robin dropped the phone, stared at it as it swung from its coiled wire. What just happened?

She went back to her room, sat down on the edge of her bed. If Steve wasn’t in, was he on a date? He hadn’t mentioned one. That said, given her eternal back-catalogue of disaster on the dating song-list—and her latest episode of moping—he probably didn’t want to upset her. She switched off her lamp, tried to sleep.

Impossible.

What his Dad said rankled, and made no sense anyhow. Why did Steve owe him a thousand bucks? That was a year's wages! Then again, Steve had mentioned something a while back about his tightwad parents charging him rent. It was probably what they’d been rowing over.

By the early hours of the morning, that sensation of dread had flourished to the point where she could no longer stand it. Sleep wasn’t happening, so she pulled on a warm coat and scarf, headed out, and grabbed her bike.

Once Henderson had gotten over the initial shock of her tapping on his window at four a.m., he considered her theory seriously enough: “You reckon his parents threw him out, and he’s sleeping rough somewhere,” he clarified, while he unlocked the wheel of his bike. “Why didn’t he tell us?”

“He can be kinda proud like that. Plus, I was having a beyond-horrible day.” She clutched her handlebars ever tighter. Steve hadn’t needed to tell her, anyhow. She’d known, and her anxieties flurried toward panic. He’d been getting up sick, right? As her clouding breath confirmed, tonight was bonkers cold.

Dustin jammed his woolly hat down over his ears. “Right. If you were sleeping rough in Hawkins, where would you go?”

They tried the bus station, the shop fronts on Main Street, even the High School outbuildings. They wound up outside the police station, debating about whether to go in. 

“Nobody will take us seriously,” pointed out Dustin. “I mean, he’s not technically missing. We don’t have any evidence that he’s not at home in his bed, comfortably snoring, while we’ve been cycling around freezing our faces off.”

“He’s not,” said Robin, and creepily—witchily? —she’d rarely been more convinced of anything in her life. “He’s in trouble. I know it.”

“Seeing as we’ve looked, basically, everywhere, I’m going to need something a bit more scientific than that.”

“We’ve barely started!” protested Robin, as a police wagon drew up beside. Chief Hopper got out, bleary eyed and with a cigarette hanging from one side of his mouth.

“God, that was a wasted call-out,” he muttered, then, belatedly absorbing who they were, said: “What the heck are you two doing here?”

“Being total idiots!” said Robin, so loudly even the Chief baulked. “It’s so obvious! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

Hopper looked crankier. Dustin gesticulated wildly with his thickly mittened hands: “What!?!”

“His car! His dad said something like, ‘Steve owes me a thousand bucks.’ That’s about the value of his car, right?”

“Steve Harrington?” asked Hopper. “Yeah. Kid’s got a nice set of wheels. Anybody gonna enlighten me what you’re doing here at this godforsaken hour?”

“Steve’s been sleeping rough,” said Robin. “In his car.”

“What? Last night?” Hopper frowned. “Temperatures have been sub-zero.” 

“Yeah, we know,” mumbled Dustin. “We also don’t actually know for sure that Steve isn’t home, and this isn’t all in her he—"

“It’s not in my head, Henderson. He’s out there. Chief, you’ve got to help us find him.”

Hopper wearily stubbed out his cigarette, swung open the passenger door. “Get in.”

***

Shivering hurt. His teeth hurt from chattering. As the night got colder, Steve curled up in the backseat of his car and discovered everything hurt.

He never knew cold could feel like this, like how his gran used to describe it—creeping through his veins and into the marrow of his bones. Whatever the heck that was. He was wearing, literally, all his clothes. What the hell else could he do?

He'd used the heater the previous two nights, since he’d taken off from his parents’, basically homeless. Now he was out of gas, and there was no chance of getting a refill can till next payday so…

He curled even tighter, wrapping his arms around himself. Like a hug. He recalled how he and Robin had hugged earlier, how he’d felt better after that, about… everything. Which was stupid. Because it’d solved nothing for either of them. He faintly hoped he hadn’t given Robin his germs. If they even were germs. Who needed germs, when you were this damn freezing?

At length, his fingers and toes stopped hurting and turned numb. Then, at last, he sensed some warmth. Which was weird, but then again, he felt increasingly weird—his skin kinda prickly as if he sweated, then suddenly, he was way too hot. Which was totally nuts, and confusing, but he’d take it. He shrugged off his blanket, which slid into the footwell. He might have removed his scarf, which was getting suffocating, but he was too damn tired.

He slept, shallowly, and the darkness beneath his eyelids grew pitted with white. It wasn’t like snow. Nothing was that yielding or soft. He hadn't the strength left to rub his eyes. He threw all his effort into his next, shallow, whistling breath, and… Christ! It suddenly made sense. He could see his lungs, right? Which was insane, but his fevered little mind saw it anyhow. They seemed all brittle, lined with scratchy glass, scraping and tearing with every breath, until...

An ice-toothed gale blasted him sidelong. Robin's scared face veered up in front of him. Uh, he’s definitely hallucinating, right? Nobody knew he was here; nobody should know. He needed her, though. Kinda figured he’d die here without her, and then… he was just plain scared.

He closed his eyes. Too much. Waaaay too much. And, shit, maybe that wasn’t Robin. Maybe it was her aliens, and those were lights from a spaceship—a UFO?

Somebody—some thing —slid an arm around his shoulder, another under his knees. He was scooped up, and felt the sensation of being carried. His stomach performed a feeble flip. Am I dying? Am I dead? Or am I zooming to another planet!?!

Then nothing. Until…

His lungs still felt too tight. He was lying somewhere warm and soft, however, and the air didn't burn or freeze, nor make him prickle and sweat. In fact, it was kinda soothing and sweet, though it still proved a struggle to get enough.

Somebody squeezed his hand. Somebody or thing was holding his hand! Aliens? If so, why wasn’t he freaking out? He pried his too-sleepy eyelids open. Robin! 

"Steve!" She smiled and gave him another squeeze.  There was a plastic mask over his mouth and nose, and he lifted a hand to bat it away. She stopped him, settled the mask again. “I’d leave that, it’s the oxygen. You’re okay now. You’re gonna be just fine.”

He tried to talk, though speech wasn’t happening. Just an embarrassing croak. Her make-up was smudged again. He almost forced his dry lips into a smirk. He must look worse, but with Robin, that’s okay.

A nurse turned up, checking his pulse, and the oxygen machine, fluffing the pillows. She talked, but he was too sleepy to listen. Robin bobbed up again, working her face strangely, and he couldn’t read whether she was about to laugh or cry:

"Look, Steve,” she burst out, “yeah, it's okay to not be okay. Next time, can you please be more specific about EXACTLY HOW NOT OKAY YOU ARE."

"Okay," he wheezed, and she started up talking again. Her voice soothed him, even though he was too far gone to listen. 

He isn’t okay. He feels weak and jittery and everything aches.

From this new all-time low, he can’t even start to think about what his future might hold without wanting to yell. Which he can't even do! But her, and their friendship—it’s good. Which was probably why, even now, he’s feeling her pain again, just as strong as his. He hated how she suffered every single day, keeping her hopes and dreams a secret. Jesus, whatever hurt her, hurt him, too. And he was stupidly grateful for that, which made no sense either.

Perhaps he should tell her, when he’d gotten his voice back? Before or after he’d thanked her for having somehow saved his life. Or perhaps that would sound crazy and a bit creepy. Or witchy and physic? Huh, hadn’t he accused her of that earlier?

Listening to her talking, he ebbed and sank into somewhere safer and warm.

****

Part of this fic series (whump, platonic stobin & steddie fic)

[indigos-stardust]

Snuff the Ember: Short( Chapter 3)

A rhythmic pounding broke the endless silence. A thundering heartbeat firmly dragging him out of the realm of the unconscious. Vio can faintly feel warmth pressed to his side and hear mumuring just beyond the hammering in his skull. A faint groan escapes his lips. Heavy eyelids refuse to open and no thoughts linger long enough to properly form. The thundering numbs ever so slightly, and he’s sinking back into the darkness again…

Or he would be if his peace wasn’t ruined by an incessant and horrible shaking that was strangling his very mind. Aaaaaaaaaand the noises are getting louder again and he's being brought back to life, lovely. Vio blearily manages to somewhat crack open an eye to the world thats practically a swirling blurr. He tries to protest, to what exactly he can’t quite put his finger on, but the sound dies just as quickly as it came.

Cold. Cold and wet , and over his face and his head- And oh- Wait, that actually felt nice. And it takes him a moment to process, but he actually isn’t shaking anymore? That was odd, then why was everything still all a blurry watercolor of peach, red, and inky darkness. Huh, the weird peachy red blob was moving a lot in front of him. Is that what as making all those noises? He tried to slap the thing out of his face, but for some reason his hand wasn’t really going up? Oh , the blob was already holding it. 

Then the blob started to become clearer and he realized that the blob was talking to him. He kept talking to Vio and seemed really concerned, and then another one, a green-orange near the fire started chastising Red.  

“Could you guys jus’.. Shutt up ‘lready?” Vio managed to slur. 

Red beams, “See! I tol.. Y… h’s…..       fi…ly   …  awake!”

Vio wanted to go back to sleep. 

—Blue—

So, Blue was pretty sure that it wasn’t the concussion making Vio act like an *ss, but rather, that it was just the nerd’s natural state of being. The guy had totally gotten super wrecked, and honestly Blue was kinda impressed on how badly he managed to f*ck up. But still, he’d gotten healed by a fairy and STILL had a concussion? 

Even if the guy was barely coherent, it didn’t mean like he had the right to act like such a damn crabby toddler refusing their medicine! Seriously, and then GREEN got on HIM for “getting too rough” while he was practically WRESTLING with Vio just to get him to drink the potion! That’s what he got for being nice for once .

It really wasn’t his fault that Vio decided to SLAP him! The little sucker needed to be taught a lesson! Of course, Red had gotten all softy on him even after Vio pretty much cursed Blue out. Or well, cursed him out the best that he could with a nasty concussion anyways. Red would baby a distraught hinox if given the chance. 

That was pretty much how Blue ended up where he was now, namely sitting under a tree separate from everyone else like a little kid in time out. All he was really missing was a dunce cap to match the look. Silently fuming, Blue drew angry faces into the dirt with a stick, to avoid dirtying his fingers. 

 Honestly, they should be glad he wasn’t giving Vio a piece of his mind! ‘oH gO cOoL dOwN aNd TaKe A bReAtHeR bLuE.’ F*ck that! And f*ck them too! Especially after that stupid stunt Vio pulled, he didn’t even warn ‘em! Climbing to the top of the cliff alone or whatever- And Vio’s supposed to be the smart one? As if. More like- Well, Blue couldn’t really think of a good insult on account of still stewing in his own anger, but he’d think of one later!

They shouldn’t be all sappy and soft on him just because he got a little banged up. Blue always had to deal with every small single thing that was “bad” or “illogical” or “brash” that he did! Why did the dweeb with fancy talk get to get away with it??? To top it all off, like a cherry on a Sundae of sh-t, he couldn’t even insult him based on how the guy looked! They literally had the same face . 

Blue let himself curl up into an angry ball. Red and Green were just suckers, they’d get themselves killed for it one day. And who’d save the day? BLUE, blue would! Even if.. It just looked like getting in a fistfight with a random stranger. He was still a hero and one of the best ones at that. Yeah , Blue winced, Dad was… very unhappy with that one… With that thought a sour feeling struck into his gut, and Blue had to mentally smack himself. Nope. Not doing that right now. That’s enough ‘self loathing’ or whatever Red calls it . 

The others could just get over themselves, besides, his tunic was getting all dirty! Uegh! He just had to sit in a spot with some mud… He needed to get some sleep, it was late and he was sick of everyone. Maybe not Red though, it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t help but be a softie. 

Blue got up, dusted himself off and began dragging his feet to his bedroll, too worn out to even register Vio wheezing in the background from another one of Red’s hugs. He was too focused on his keeping his eyes on the ground so that no one would try to strike up some conversation with him. He felt a bit hollow and almost mentally sore. Probably just tired from the day…

Then he bumped into a green chest. 

Before Blue could even process the dumb amused grin in front of him, there was a hand blocking his fist before it connected to the chest. 

Green’s gaze softened a bit, his smile growing a little tighter with concern. Blue ripped his own hand out of Green’s and turned away with crossed arms. He didn’t want to deal with this. He wanted to be alone. 

“Rough day, huh?” Green lightly asked, with a little nudge to Blue’s side. 

Blue looked back for the sole purpose of glaring into Green’s expectant smile. Seriously? Wonder what could’a tipped you off, genius… Blue rolled his eyes, his arms hugging himself tighter. Catching his mistake, he wasn’t going for the ‘sad and dejected wimp’ look, thank you very much, he crossed them back up with a huff. 

“You come here to bother me or something, weed face? Cuz’ you’re asking for it…” Blue eventually settled on, kicking up a small cloud of dust. 

The other Link sighed, some light returning to his face, “Actually, I was gonna tell you I made you a bowl of the soup… But if you aren’t interested,” Green continued with an almost hopeful mischievousness, “ I guess I could just eat if for y-”

‘Yeah, no way in the FALLEN REALM is that sucker winning!’

And before Green could even finish his sentence Blue immediately tripped him with a smooth kick to his ankles and bolted for the soup pot.

Blue already knew what would happen if he gave him any chances! Green had tried to duel him for extra food tons of times on their quests, and it wasn’t uncommon that they’d both end up brawling around on the ground for some extra food. What could he say? They were hungry teens and sometimes a quick scuffle helped to prove who needed the leftovers the most. But then, to come after his own serving!

As much as that loser was an idiot for thinking that he could actually beat Blue out of Red’s amazing cooking- He was glad that Green had mentioned it or else he might’ve forgotten-

Looking into the warm bowl he could see plenty of his own favorite herbs in between the mushrooms, onions, and potatoes. And- oh man Red made it cheesy too- It was heaven, he decided. Sure, a little saltier than usual, but it made it that much better in his opinion. Man, was he really peeved enough to forget about this liquid gold?  

Hylia, he didn’t even care about anything, nothing mattered more than this goodness, and he was going to spoonful that stuff as fast as he could to get the leftovers. The others already had a headstart damn it! Vio- Okay, maybe he should leave a bit extra for Vio or whatever- But c’mon the guy probably couldn’t even eat that much right?

He stayed that way, practically burning his own mouth as he gulped down and savored that meal, and went almost interrupted ‘till Red sat down besides him giggling. Blue snapped back to reality and looked around for a hot second. Vio was propped against a tree, a half finished bowl in his hands, catching his eye after seemingly whispering some little joke to Green? And Green looked pretty happy for a guy who lost. Green barely even tri- Oh.

Red’s wobbly smile and hunched shoulder was enough to tell him he was barely keeping himself from breaking down in laughing tears right then and there. He could feel his ears and neck burning . Did everyone know besides him?! 

Red snickered into his hand a bit, “S-so you enjoying your food?”

‘Yeah no, I am NOT falling for that! AUGH no! You know what? I am NOT gonna give these guys the satisfaction!’

Blue very pointedly got another heaping spoonful of hot broth and shoved it into his mouth before nodding sharpy, twice up and down. Very solid, very normal, and he wasn’t going to validate their little trick by admitting he had fallen for it!

Vio’s knowing eyes flickered to him, with a slightly raised brow. Stupid little face, stupid little eyes-

Blue gulped his food down, almost choking, but forcing it down anyways with only slightly teary eyes. “You-,” and then Blue coughed, failing to finish his own words, Red rubbing little circled into his back. ‘ Wrong pipe- Wrong pipe-’ By the end of it, Blue’s eyes were practically wet and he was looking rather frazzled. 

“You got somethin’ you wanna tell me dumb*ss?!” Blue hoarsely managed to choke out. 

There! He’d gotten that out! Teach that plum grape b*tch a lesson! 

Vio just looked down into his hands, his shoulders quietly shaking. Green turned away. It was silent. 

Wait- Oh no no no nono- F*CK oh man, is he still loopy or some crap?? Why is he acting like he’s crying- He doesn’t cry, Vio never cries- And Green just turned away? Oh no Green and Red are gonna be SO MAD FU-

Blue was about to panic, but then he heard… wheezing? Why was Vio wheezing, didn’t they fix the cracked rib? Then, in a split second of silence everyone burst laughing . Then, it dawned on him, as the roaring numbed his ears. A sensation of fresh blatantly obvious stupidity struck him. Green was in tears slapping his hand on his thigh, laughing on the ground-

Blue felt mortified. They’d made a total fool outta him. He could only stare down as his tightened fists. They totally knew how stupidly he’d fallen for another one of Green’s little tricks that he’d learned from parental books for elementary children and then- ‘ Dang, did they think I was stupid enough to not even realize what was going on the wHOLE TIME?’ His stupid ego had stopped from keeping his last bit of dignity .

Red, managed to calm down somewhat and gave Blue a side hug, lightly patting his back, “Y-,” he giggled for a moment and then wiped a tear, “ I-I’m glad you liked the soup Blue.” And then a smile of pure sunshine and sugar and whatever else fairies were made of hit him like a speeding wagon. A fairies healing hands when you were down and bruised and barely there. His face felt even hotter for some reason. 

Blue curled into himself, hiding his face into his knees, the bowl removed sometime during it all. No amount of hiding could keep his own meek embarrassment from leaking into his words though. 

“Yeah… whatever…”

That was SO WEAK- Blue screamed in his mind. Stupid Red and HIS stupid face!! No- No he wasn’t gonna be mad at Red… He felt like a little puddle of wet on the floor. Melted down into a soft tiny goop. Of shame. He just always had to be weak for Red didn’t he?

Blue stomped to his bedroll without turning back, somehow managed to properly fold his clothes through the emotional haze, and fell asleep the moment his head hit his pillow.

[meetthenurse]

"I just wanted to make sure you're ok." (Stupid thing wouldn't let me paste it)

The Nurse heard the Spy speak to him from behind as he was curled into his bed, too sad to be surprised by the visit.

Laurent was right to ask, because after the day he had, he wasn't exactly ok.

It was the most stressful day of battle of his life and the most terrifying. For some reason or another, a Spy from BLU, thankfully not Laurent, decided to toy with Kelly before ending him. He was cornered, and his weapons skills were no match for the enemy's.

This other Spy seemed to know a lot, much like Laurent. He taunted the Nurse about his life; his failures, his shortcomings, and his mistakes. The description of just how weak he was was the cherry on the top of this sadistic sundae. All this while he had a sharp blade pressed to his neck, and as other BLUs watched on passively.

When Kelly respawned, he couldn't make himself go back out. He was shook to his core.

"...you saw what happened?" Asked Kelly, still not moving from his fetal position.

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Sometimes I think the universe is just taking the absolute piss. There I am, scrolling through my phone like the sad twat I am, when I spot a GoFundMe that makes me want to throw my phone through the fucking window.

It's from x. Yeah, that x. The same precious little slag who was spreading her legs at twelve. The same x who married the dickhead who popped her cherry – you know, the one I had that pathetic crush on, the absolute weapon who called me "fugly and fat" like he was reading out the fucking weather forecast.

And now – Jesus fucking Christ – she wants to adopt kids from abroad. The irony's so thick you could choke a horse with it.

I've told the story of x's early adventures so many times our old gang probably recites it in their sleep. But here's the bit I usually leave out: the stupid cow actually married the tosser. Their teenage fumble turned into an actual marriage certificate. Shocked absolutely nobody when it all went tits up.

But here's the real kicker – x blamed the whole shit show on his parents being divorced. Because obviously it had fuck all to do with her being an absolute nightmare of a human being. No, must've been his family's fault. Fucking typical x.

Then – because apparently one marriage massacre wasn't enough – she somehow got her claws into some Broadway performer. Jazz hands and wedding bells, what could possibly go wrong? Everything, as it turns out. Marriage number two went the same way as number one. Two divorces before 35. That's not so much a red flag as a Communist fucking parade.

Now she's got this GoFundMe page that's like someone vomited every adoption cliché into a Word document. Get this shit: "My name is x, and I am a psychotherapist, a daughter, a sister, an auntie, a neighbor, and a friend. I am writing this statement with the hopes to soon add 'mother' to my list of most valued titles."

Nearly spat my tea across the room. Mother as a "most valued title"? Christ on a bike. The only title she should be worried about is "Most Likely to Fuck Up Someone Else's Kids."

The way she tells it, meeting these kids was like something out of those shit films they show at Christmas. Apparently, this eight-year-old sprinted through an airport to find her. Then the fifteen-year-old joined in for a group hug that lasted "several minutes." Several minutes? In an airport? Bollocks. Only thing that lasts several minutes in an airport is the queue for overpriced coffee.

She bangs on about how the older one's this "insightful, intelligent, deep, curious, sophisticated optimist" and the little one's some "rampant extrovert." It all sounds about as genuine as a three-quid note.

And now for the real punch line – she needs money. Loads of it. Nearly eighteen grand for paperwork, another ten grand for living expenses in Colombia. Twenty-eight thousand fucking quid all told. She's wittering on about saving money from her new therapy practice, but we all know that's about as likely as me becoming the next Pope.

The cherry on top of this shit sundae? "I didn't choose my children, but they certainly, wholly, and deeply, have chosen me." Excuse me while I vom in my mouth.

She's raised two grand so far. Part of me hopes she never gets the rest, and yeah, I know that makes me a complete cunt. But I can't help it. I remember x. I remember every nasty little thing she's done, every selfish choice she's made. And now she wants to be responsible for two actual human children? Jesus wept.

Maybe I am being a vindictive bitch about this. Maybe I should be more understanding or whatever other bollocks my therapist would suggest. But when I think about x getting her hands on those kids, my stomach turns. Some people deserve to be mothers. x deserves a swift kick up the arse and a reality check.

And before anyone starts – no, I'm not jealous. I couldn't give less of a shit about x's desperate grasp at motherhood. What I care about is those poor kids potentially ending up with someone who couldn't even keep her knickers on at twelve.

Life's proper mental sometimes, isn't it? How does someone go from being the school bike to wanting to adopt kids from abroad? And who the fuck am I to judge? But I do judge. I judge hard. Because sometimes being a proper bitch is better than pretending everything's fine when it's clearly fucked beyond belief.

[dorimena]

I seriously love Bakugou and Todoroki. Especially Bakugou in his tight winter costume in S5. And I love Dom reader and femdom more than a sub. Can I pleaseee request Todoroki or Bakugou where the reader is recording them playing with a vibrator or dildo but get overstimulated because they can't cum from the cock ring because it's their punishments since they forgot their anniversary so reader also forget to stop the toys even if they beg reader to stop in the camera.if you don't mind the request

I don’t mind~ May your sin be forgiven with this prayer (˘⌣˘人) This sounds really, really sexy, so I had a blast imagining and putting this into words.

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki & todoroki shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, sex toys (dildo, vibrators, cockring), overstimulation, cam sex (recording), exhibitionism, semi-public, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; balcony sex (?), threesome, whiny Bakugou, weeping Todoroki, punishment, orgasm denial, aged-up characters, Bakugou and Todoroki are both 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; Unravel Me by Sabrina Claudio and Fuck Love by XXXTENTACION ft. Trippie Reid somehow helped me piece this together. Sorry if there are any typos! It’s not proofread.

𝕯𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊

“I-I-”

“W-we! We-”

You watch as both men struggle to speak, trying to ask for forgiveness, once again. It’s the fourth time this hour, the way Bakugou tries to open his mouth wide enough to not slur his words and Todoroki tries to correct Bakugou while keeping himself coherent.

It’s cute how the smartest guys in your life seem to fail miserably in having a decent human conversation

Well, you can’t blame them either, not with the way you keep toying around with the intensity of the vibrators taped to their dicks, cum drying on the toy enough to show anyone who looks up on the balcony that these two men, with such stature and muscles, are easily falling apart.

“Speak better, sweethearts. Can’t have you guys sounding so dumb on camera, right?”

Oh yeah, and you’re even recording them, in case anyone else would want to watch the rising proheros break.

You’re not actually going to show them to the public, but maybe to their friends. Maybe Kirishima would like to watch? Kaminari? Sero? Or maybe Iida? Midoriya?

Heck, the girls might even ask some day.

But you know what makes you curious about showing this video to their friends?

The way both Bakugou and Todoroki are presenting themselves beautifully, as if they’re pro porn stars saving the wanks rather than proheros saving the day.

It’s cute, how Bakugou’s puffing his muscular chest in the air as if they were the juiciest tits ever, which they are, and how Todoroki is somehow sensually humping the air with every buzz against his furious red tip.

Your eyes stay on the screen, making sure the lighting is entering nice enough to make it seem like they’re glowing, other than their post-orgasm glow.

How many times have they come by now?

“Babes, how many times have you cum?”

They both shake their heads.

Of course they wouldn’t know. They just take what they’re receiving. They’re making up for their mistake.

You still pout, tapping the touchable screen to even out the weird lighting as another cloud covers the sun, again.

Maybe giving their punishment out on the balcony wasn’t such a good idea.

As you look down to the floor below them, seeing the once growing puddle of cum slowly be pushed by the wind to trail off towards the side of the balcony, seeping through the small opening and probably dripping feets below is what keeps you positive, happy knowing people will eventually look up and wonder ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Well, either the drying cum gives away your dirty activities or it’s Todoroki’s wailing as an orgasm is ripped out of him forcibly.

Pity nothing comes from his tip, not since some time ago.

They both thought they deserve to cum and be satisfied?

Maybe you should’ve put the cock rings on them before making them come the first two times, but their reactions and frustration with how little some cum leaves or how their body reacts with the dry convulsions makes you giggle in pride.

Pretty babes.

“Todoroki, shut up. You’ll make the neighbors look over- oh! Oh, that’s what you want? I understand.”

And poor Todoroki is just shaking his head way too fast, enough to give him whiplash, but you just snicker as you reach over to a white box.

An unfamiliar white box.

Bakugou’s eyeing Todoroki in pity, wondering what the other will have to endure as he keeps trying to fight off his orgasm.

How he’s doing it, he has no clue. But god his dick hurts.

He’s been wanting to cum for the past 30 minutes, but with the way he resents this stupid cock ring, he’d rather not humilliate himself in front of you and figure out how else to please you.

Maybe he should offer to eat you out?

The way his body is super tense and his breathing is shallow doesn’t escape your attention, less how much pity is showing itself on his face as he shakes his face in disapproval with Todoroki’s recent dry orgasm.

Good thing you invested in this double dildo.

Neither of the boys take notice with how you’re lubing the dildo that looks like it’d belong to you. It’s quite pretty, long and thick enough to hopefully please your boys.

Even if they won’t get to cum.

“Bakugou,” you start, smiling as you watch his once bright eyes suddenly darken as shock takes over his face.

What the

“Fuck is that?!” He yells out, accidentally letting his body relax as it finally submits to the vibrations of the toy, his yell turning into an unbroken series of high-pitched moans, his hips losing control with how incredibly close he is.

“A double dildo, baby. Look! It even looks like if I’d be fucking you two, isn’t that fun?”

Bakugou shakes his head, gasping ‘no, no, no!’ before he falls forward, balancing himself with his palms as he sobs through his first dry orgasm. Maybe he shouldn’t have held back for so long, not with the way his body unforgivably goes through waves of pure unsatisfied pleasure.

Todoroki, meanwhile, is nodding eagerly, eyes welling up in happy tears at the idea of getting fucked, in getting more pleasure and love from you, even if this is meant to be punishment.

But, why are you exposing them like this?

They forgot your anniversary.

Your 3rd anniversary as a throuple, the anniversary Bakugou swallowed his bite and pride to confess to you how much he loves you and how he’s falling in love with Todoroki too; the anniversary Todoroki finally let loose the dam of emotions and even if a bit tipsy, agreed he too was falling in love with both you and Bakugou, how he hasn’t ever felt so understood, so loved, so safe.

So, yeah, how dare they forget?

But if they wanna be dumb, you’ll help with that.

It’s been a while now since you’ve turned off the vibrators and since you’ve prepped them well enough to take the dildo together.

The scene in front of you is gorgeous, ethereal, sublime.

You just want to ruin them like this everyday.

“Aagh! Ugh! F-fuck! Sl-slow do-own! Haaah~”

“S-sorry! ‘m s-sorry! Ca-an’t! Nnah…”

It’s cute watching them argue a bit, how Bakugou can’t take how fast Todoroki is fucking himself back on the dildo while also pushing the toy deeper into Bakugou. And Todoroki doesn’t actually look sorry, not with how his eyes keep crossing everytime he manages to get the toy to hit his sweet spot.

He’s trying so hard to win your forgiveness by putting up with this, but it’s kind of sad knowing you’re not going to stop anytime soon, or take off the cockrings.

Not like they know anyways.

Bakugou might’ve known, might’ve noticed, with the way he’s trying to keep this dragging as slow and steady as possible; with the way his precum is struggling to escape the confines the cockring gives; with how much his red and miserably hard dick keeps jumping with every push Todoroki’s ass gives him.

You’re lounging about, resisting the urge to get off to the scene in front of you, or else they’d start begging to let them please you as apologies, and knowing how sentimental this day is for you, you know you’d immediately give in.

But this is punishment for their forgetfulness.

So, as the cherry on top of this cum covered balcony sex sundae, you’ll also forget about them.

It lasted for a while as you got bored with how neither of them seemed to be reaching another orgasm.

If only the dildo had a vibration option.

But the vibrators still taped on their dicks will have to do.

So you turn them back on, and oh would you look at that! The cockrings could also vibrate.

The pleasure-filled scream coming from Bakugou and the cute, drawled whine of your name Todoroki lets out makes you feel grateful for thinking ahead, kinda.

Now both boys are writhing against each other, different ways to let out their desperations and dying need to properly cum manifesting in either rapid fucking on the dildo to simply submitting to the minstruations of the other party.

To put it in better, shorter words, Bakugou took the reigns in fucking the dildo in such rigor and strength that made Todoroki lay on his chest, ass still up as he simply took everything Bakugou kept pushing into him, mouth opened as hiccups and drool escaped. His eyes settle onto your form, watering as more tears gather on his waterline before dropping to the ground his face is resting on.

It feels so good, so, so good he can’t believe this is punishment. Even if he hasn’t been able to properly cum for some time now, he still thinks you’re being nice with them. Must be because of the anniversary that you sadly reminded them of.

He’s trying his best to push back on the dildo, wanting Bakugou to feel just as good as him, just as fucked as him.

And everytime the toy hits him just right, Todoroki sees stars, feels an all too familiar tingly sensation as he tries to grab his dick, but when you turn the vibrator up even more, his hands just lay on the ground, nails raking as he tries gripping on something, anything.

He really, really, really needs to cum. He wants to cum.

Keep being a good boy for you.

But all he gets is a choked sob of your name leaving his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed upwards as the strongest orgasm takes over his body, he’d be convinced there’s an earthquake happening. Small whimpers of how much it hurts leaves his mouth soon after, his dick twitching pathetically as it slowly becomes purple, barely a dribble of cum managing to escape.

Bakugou is in no good shape either, loudly moaning and crying out how good you’re fucking him, how he’s taking your cock, how good he is being, to please, please, please let him cum.

But actually cum, to let him contaminate the floor even more with his sperm, to let him taste it even, if that would make you happy and forgive him.

He’s close to wailing by now, hips going impossible faster as he forgets all about poor Todoroki riding out his high.

And the moment you turn on the vibrators intensity, he gets dizzy, breath getting stuck in his throat as his brain tries to process the spiraling of his warm, hot orgasm growing too much, burning him everywhere as if it were lava.

Small sparks sound on his fingertips as he howls and gets hurled into his own orgasm, back arching and head thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, not with how his mind only cares about how good yet bad this orgasm feels.

Not even how loud his high-pitched wails of how good it feels, how much it hurts, is enough to alarm anyone near the radius of this defiling act.

Both boys are left shuddering or twitching through their intense dry orgasm, the way their bodies react with the built up cum in their dicks, with how hot and how wreckless they’re becoming with their quirks.

Still connected with the dildo, neither move, unless it’s some pathetic hump to help drag the orgasm a little more before they try to even remember what letter your name begins with.

Bakugou’s whimpering.

Todoroki’s crying silently.

Both blinking the haze out of their vision as they remember about the buzzing, about the relentless feeling on their really, really sensitive dicks.

Bakugou’s crying now.

Todoroki’s just busy mewling like a slut by now.

And when they both turn to look at you, they gasp so loudly one of them begins choking on air and the other with saliva.

Where’d you go?!

Come back!

And ‘come back’ and ‘forgive us’ is the only thing anyone could possibly hear for the next few hours as they fuck the dildo and let the vibrators do their job in milking more and more orgasms out of them.

If only they’d look closer, they would’ve seen a post-it note stuck on the tripod of the camera telling them you went to the kitchen and that they better come crawling.

Oh well, you’re enjoying the view anyways as you sip on some liquor of your liking, turning off the vibrators as you slowly walk to the balcony.

The sun’s beginning to set. You’re not that cruel in letting them fuck each other in the cold.

The bedroom is much better, and comfier.

Perfect for you to finish the job and let them finally, finally, get their deserving orgasms.

You’ll be sure to milk out

Every.

Single.

Drop.

[hausofmamadas]

I have no idea why tf, or for what tf, or who tf I even wrote this for besides it came to me and I don’t know what else to do with it but share bc like I think it’s kinda funny and like gifs. So, yeah, here’s a thing sksksksks a drabble? as the real fanfic writers say??

═

| Only good for a good time |

Character/Pairing: Isabella Bautista (heavily implied Isabella Bautista x Enedina Arellano Félix)

Word count: smol ~850

✷ TWs: the general stupidity of men none ✷

⁂

Because a pretty face, dirt poor from Culiacan, can only possibly be good for one thing, right? If Isabella Bautista had like a lifestyle guru blog or a Wordpress diary or was like some kind of YouTube vlogger and/or Instagram influencer or god forbid, had a Tumblr, I feel like this would be an entry?? Regardless of the exact avenue, she is out here, screaming into the void of the internet about how her almost bestie and the rest of the world did her so beyond dirty and questioning what it means to be so damn sexy all the time. (You think I'm joking ... I promise you, this might actually be that shallow.)

⁂

It was almost like every breakup I’d ever had. A pat on the ass, a “thanks for your time” and “be on your way.” Actually it was worse, because none of the dirtbags I ever dated had left a check to add insult to injury. Another thing this one had that those breakups didn’t? The worst part? The absolute and complete cherry on top of this shit sundae?

I didn’t. fucking. see it. coming.

In hindsight, I probably should have. I’d never worked with another woman before, so I kinda just chalked it up to that. Less dicks and egos to dance around and deal with. But if I think about it now, there were always three operating in the background, after hours, and things were going too well, working too smoothly, had too few headaches, too few fires to put out. That should’ve tipped me off. Because life is never so kind. I mean, they say you can’t have it all, right? I never used to believe that but I’m beginning to. Because a pretty face, dirt poor from Culiacan, can only possibly be good for one thing, right?

And yeah, I do like to have a good time, if your idea of a good time is watching endless reruns of El Derecho de Nacer with a seventy pound German shepherd, drooling, half-asleep in your lap. I guess I don't mind dancing either, but that always depends on the company you're with. (If you're ever in Colombia, I've got a number for este chulito viejito who ruined dancing for me because it's just not the same without him ...

... he made that much of an impression.) But people are always projecting things onto me based on my looks. Which isn’t actually my problem … but is still somehow my problem.

So, it’s a question I ask myself often. Is it worth it to be beautiful? And now, don’t even start because I already know what you’re thinking like qué debo ser tan loca, sí? Oh poor linda, bonita, chulita, fresita. How life must be so terrible and hard for you. Cry me a river, pendeja. Ya cállate alashingada pues and smile.

And look, I get it. It sounds nuts to be asking that question porque por supuesto que sí, que ser linda, lo vale la pena.

And you’re right. The answer to that question is "yes" ... in some ways. I mean, sure, it may have gotten me out of a ticket, paying a fine or two. And well, yeah, actually come to think of it, I’ve never paid for a drink in my life.

It’s also part of, but definitely not all (not even close) of what got me out of Sinaloa and onto bigger things. Tijuana, Colombia, beyond.

Because people are nicer to you if you’re pretty. They tend to give you things when you ask (for the right ones) nicely.

But (and there’s always one of those) when I replay every single leer, every joke some sleazeball cracked about how “Colombians love a girl with a fat ass,” every pair of hungry, beady eyes behind sunglasses slid down the bridges of their noses. When I replay all of that? Yeah. I wish wasn’t. Or at least, not in the way I am.

See, because as much as I admire and respect her, the most annoying thing about Di— scratch that. One of the most annoying things about Dina is that she’s beautiful too. Noticeably so. I mean hey, I certainly noticed. Hell, I wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity had we not been in business together. He probably thinks he taught me so much, but Miguel was right about one thing: business in lust or love is a Bad Idea. (Well that, aaaand had she not been so busy making eyes at that Snack of a sicario working for them, whose name I can never remember.)

(And really …. I can't blame her.)

(… Or him, for that matter.)

So yeah, she’s beautiful. And yet, still, somehow people always seem to take her seriously. And okay yes, she’s someone who does naturally command respect, sure. But hey! Newsflash! We’re not that fucking different!

How do you think we worked together so well in the first place?

I guess, maybe it’s that she’s beautiful in a way that’s honest and doesn’t make too much noise. Frankly, for the longest time, I always thought it was because of how she dressed, like in those unflattering, oversized tiger sweaters. And good god, that 80-year-old librarian’s polka-dotted suit jacket, the one that made her look like a kooky preschool teacher …

If preschool teachers came customized with a mouth that savage. (I don’t think they do.)

But that theory went right out the window. Because when I did that, no matter how hard I tried to make myself look hard, they still all saw the same thing. One Thing. (Except the One Person I might’ve actually wanted to see the One Thing. Then again, what’s that saying? Don’t shit where you eat? As I said, bad for business. Although, now that I think about it, maybe I should’ve thrown caution to the wind since the whole thing went to shit anyway. Oh well. Así es la vida.)

Oh, I’m not even gonna bother spelling it out for you. Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. And you do already know what it is. Because it’s the One Thing you see too, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t it what you all came for in the first place?

[ollieinoue]

IN CHARACTER TASK 004: INTERROGATIONS

feat: Ollie, Greer's investigation team (Mostly Agent Choi), and surprise G texts!

Any time Ollie found himself sitting in a room with the police was never a good time. And these weren't even police, they were detectives. Like FBI and shit. As long as he kept a level head, more of one than he kept in his first interrogation, that everything would be fine. So, Ollie sat there quietly, and politely thanked the officer that placed the glass of water in front of him, picking up to take a drink before they asked their first question.

“Had you ever heard of anything regarding THE NAIVE NEWCOMER using steroids?”

Ollie took a sharp breath, the water getting sucked down into the wrong pipe which caused him to gag and start choking, doubling over in his seat his hand over his face as he coughed up the water. One of the very kind agents, Agent Choi, apparently, to pat him on his back. Eventually Ollie sat back up, eyes watering and face red as he panted for breath. "What?" He said, in disbelief, "Wha-? He was juicing? No fucking way. You guys are bullshitting me."

"Afraid not, Ollie," Agent Choi said.

"No way..."

"Yes way."

Ollie leaned back in his seat, his mouth half open gazing off into the distance, clearly very surprised by this information. "Damn... I mean, no I didn't know, he seemed so fucking clean, y'know..." he said, blinking a few times and shaking his head. Apparently that was believable enough (it should fucking be because he was shocked), and they moved on to their next question.

“Had Greer brought up breaking up with him ever? Or anything of the sort, like she did in her video?”

Taking another tentative drink to soothe the burning in his throat, Ollie looked over the top of the cup, shaking his head. "No, we didn't really talk about our romantic relationships much. But I guess it's not surprising. She wasn't exactly too loyal to him was she? She always seemed like she was destined to meet some uber famous billionaire who would whisk her away to some private island where they would live the rest of their lives on some fabulous mega yacht or something."

"Speaking of the videos," Agent Choi lead, "were you aware that Greer Morrison had submitted a video at the end of last year?”

"No," Ollie said, his eyebrows furrowing, glancing down at the table, "I mean none of the video was great to see so that was kind of like the surprise cherry on top of the whole shit sundae... It was kinda painful, actually..." He said with a very unhumorous laugh.

"Can you talk about your time capsule video? Give us some context for the clip that was leaked?”

Please can we fucking not? His video very clearly had nothing to do with anything, so he could probably just say, no and there was nothing to it. However... Ollie looked up from where he was staring at the table towards Agent Choi, than around at the others in the room, frowning at them. Well... If he'd learned anything in his very long nineteen years of life it was that over sharing about something that didn't matter much, was a good way of throwing people off the scent. Not that Ollie really thought there was much of a scent on him in the first place, but... just to make very sure. "I mean... What do you want me to say? That I'm in love with my best friend? Apparently everyone already fucking knows. I just fucking realized a few weeks ago, but everyone else already knew I guess. Like name a stupider gay stereotype, I'm so fucking pathetic."

"You sound like you're being hard on yourself," Agent Choi said, placing his hand on Ollie's shoulder, who pouted up at him. "And this friend is... Monty Richler?"

That made Ollie hesitate a moment, not exactly wanting to speak about others in this interrogation, but he carefully gave a very subtle nod, and was relieved when the officers moved on to another question.

“Do you have any reason to believe THE GOLDEN GIRL would want to leave Ogden College?”

His nod turned into a shake of his head, "no," Ollie said. He was content to leave it there but he opened his mouth to speak again, "I mean she sounded lonely in her video. It's hard to be around people when you feel like you don't have anyone you really connect with that you can talk to."

"Were you at the party on June 4th in the Hamptons that Greer is pictured attending on Riley Vanderford’s social media?"

If Ollie was drinking more of the water he probably would have done another spit take as he snorted. "Do I seem like the kind of person who would ever go to the Hamptons? No, I was back home in the Heights by then."

"What do you know a student named Rhiannon Falla?"

"Rhia?" Was Ollie's automatic surprised reaction, though he immediately regretted it, clearly giving away that he did in fact know Rhia. "I mean, we're friends. She's really sweet. We vibe. It's hard not to be friends with Rhia..."

"And her relationship with Greer?"

"They were friends too?" Ollie said slowly, and gave a shrug of his shoulders. Clearly content on keeping it at that pretty much, though he added, "like I said it's hard not to be friends with Rhia." If Ollie had seen the next question coming perhaps he would have preferred to keep talking about Rhia and how great he actually did think she was. Though a worse subject was brought up after that.

"How about Milo Navarro? His relationship with Greer?"

Ollie let out a harsh breath, biting down on his bottom lip, looking back down at the table. "I-- Uh..."

"Ollie," Agent Choi said, putting a hand on his shoulder again, Ollie looked back up at him with a frown, "if you know something, you can tell us."

Yeah, he certainly could. But despite how angry he was at Milo, he wasn’t going to be a fucking rat to the cops, no matter what. "We were hooking up, and he just said some really mean things to me. Personal things that don't really have anything to do with this," Ollie said, shaking his head, "a lot of sex things if you want me to describe my sex life to you."

"That won't be necessary," Agent Choi said, "but about Greer...?"

"They were friends, and tennis partners. They were a pretty big deal when it came to tennis too, apparently. They were around each other a lot, Greer is the one that introduced me to Milo. So, yeah they were close." That much was public knowledge, so he was fine with saying as much, and hoped that it was enough to satisfy the detectives. There was a look between Agent Choi, and another of the detectives- the guy in charge Ollie suspected, then he turned back to Ollie and smiled.

"Thank you for your cooperation Ollie," He said, "you were very helpful. You can go."

He practically ran from the room after giving his thanks to the agents, and was out on the quad when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out his eyebrows pulling together as he read the texts.

g: well, it looks like the cops sure trust you. let’s not get into the merits of whether or not they should, and instead let’s figure if i should. or if greer morrison should. g: did greer ever mention wanting to go to the cops over anything? g: think...stalkers, fights, issues with drugs. anything like that ring a bell? g: think about it. even try to figure it out. what you do with that info? well, i guess that’ll let us know if the cops were right for believing what you said.

Ollie paused where he was walking along the pathway, finding it a bit rich that they  thought he should are if they could trust him when he knew very well he could not trust them. He hesitated a moment before typing out a quick messages and sending it back, and continuing back to his room.

TXT  →  suck my fucking dick

[kiribaku-fics-whatever]

High School AU

it’s pouring out here by shizuumi151

With phone, money, and keys in his pocket, Kirishima wandered around the city for an age. With his legs on auto-pilot his mind wandered too. To the new movie that peppered the streets in posters and trailers, a new move he wanted to practise for another basketball play, wondering about how the current arcs for his favourite manga would turn out in the next issue of Jump.

And, of course, he thought about how many of those things he could see and do with Bakugou.

out of sight, within reach by Poteto

Katsuki needs to deal with the fact that he's in love with his best friend sooner or later and he knows that. Needless to say, this is not Katsuki's area of expertise.

A Meme A Day by PorcelainRose

Boarding school is bullshit. School is bullshit, and Bakugou Katsuki wants nothing to do with it. He doesn't give a shit about grades or homework or any of that crap, and he's more than tired of the damn principal breathing down his neck every second of the day. And to add a cherry on top of the shit sundae that is high school, he suddenly gets reassigned rooms and ends up with a way-too-fucking enthusiastic Hair-for-Brains idiot who's probably got the biggest, dumbest smile he's ever seen. Of-fucking-course.

~

Kirishima's always been happy to meet people and make new friends. Needless to say, he's ecstatic when he's informed that he's finally getting assigned a roommate after a month of living alone in a dorm room. He's more than happy to welcome his new roommate with a smile and help him out with anything he needs. He isn't expecting, however, to meet a seriously attractive blonde with intense irises that shine with his favorite color, and who he also has trouble keeping his own eyes off of.

blood bank by Authoress

He meets Kirishima when his nose is as red as Kirishima’s hair and dripping.

All My Love’s Wrapped In Shades of Red by Purpleaesthetic

Now, for as antisocial and socially inept as Bakugou is, he knows who Kirishima Eijiro is, everyone does. Kirishima is the school’s golden boy. Captain of the football team. He’s sickeningly friendly and, somehow, becomes friends with literally everyone he talks to. He has a sharp tooth smile that lights up every room he’s ever been in (Not that Bakugou noticed), and always wore that stupid letterman jacket over either a muscle tee or nothing at all (Not that Bakugou stared). He had this loud ass laugh that is impossible to ignore, (Bakugou knows, he tries) and bright as fuck, red hair that he spikes up, if he’s not wearing a snapback (Not that Bakugou has ever paid that much attention to it, or how soft it looks).

"Fuck!"

OR

Bakugou Katsuki is UA's resident delinquent who secretly maintains a 4.0 GPA. Kirishima Eijirou is UA's star quarterback who is failing multiple classes. When Aizawa offers Bakugou extra credit to tutor him, he can't say no, not when this is his opportunity to steal the number one spot in the class. There's no way this can go wrong.

you got that something by armadil_Lo

Bakugou Katsuki is the captain of the Yuuei High cheerleading squad. He stalks the school halls in his skirt with a scowl on his face and his chin high in the air, and students stare at him as they part like the Red Sea whenever he passes by. Some people call him dedicated, some call him ruthless, others just call him a straight up bitch.

But one thing is for sure - you'll never hear anyone cheer louder than Bakugou when Kirishima Eijirou scores a point.

to bear fruit(from clay, in direct sunlight) by taegg

Bakugou dreams and wakes with a fading afterimage of a peach rind sunset and a red dragon painted on a longboard. And a vague, stray thought that maybe he shouldn't give up when he hasn't really tried, that maybe the boy who rides a dragon could really be his.

Bakugou meets a boy with the wind in his hair and feet that don’t touch the ground. Two years pass, during which he learns to carve smooth lines on a longboard, and that he's allowed to love.

Number Six by charantonia

"Bakugou knew exactly why he came out here, watched a bloody and brain killing sport during his lunch period instead of doing literally anything else with his time. And there he was, pulling one of his teammates up and roughly patting his head before shoving him back into the fray. Red hair was tied back into a bun, signature for when he was on the field, a white headband holding back any strays. His practice clothes weren’t much to see, a plain gray tank top and gold running shorts, but he lifted the edge of his shirt to wipe at his forehead and Bakugou got a good look at his tight, brown abs and he swallowed hard."

Or, punk Bakugou is super into rugby player Kirishima and asks him on a date.

Punk’s Not Dead by wrunic 

“So you want to use me to piss off your mom?” Kirishima summarized, raising one pierced eyebrow at Katsuki.

“Look, if you want to be all fucking judgy about it, I take cash,” Katsuki said, dropping his hand palm up on the table.

“Hey now,” Kirishima said, raising his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it. I’m always down for a little chaos.” He flashed a grin, showing off his ridiculous shark teeth.

“Good,” Katsuki said. “We start tomorrow."

Smile by deviance

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how gay are you for Kirishima Eijirou?”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, looking away from the window where outside he could see the football team running drills. “Shut up, Roundface,” he muttered even as he felt heat rushing to his cheeks.

Uraraka laughed, leaning her chin on her hand. “You are so obvious, Bakugou.”

A Logical Detention by Eggs_in_a_cloud

He knows him. Or rather, Kirishima has heard of him. He’s kind of infamous. His flaming temper. And his sharp tongue that spits expletives like bullets.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” The blond grounds out.

Despite the tone and harsh words Kirishima keeps his crimson eyes on his face and he thinks it’s a shame that someone decided to sucker punch him in his otherwise attractive face.

not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all by theroyalsavage

The proposition is simple: fake-date the single scariest human being on the planet so Todoroki Shouto can go out with his brother. The thing is, with Bakugou, Kirishima thinks he may have signed up for more than he’d bargained for. (A 10 Things I Hate About You AU.)

[marauderundercover]

Ice Cream Weekends

Hi, this is just fluff. Pure fluff and nothing else. (Reverse Robins and Bio!dad Bruce)

Ages: Damian (23) Marinette (21) Tim (16) Jason (14) Dick (9)

“Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s one weekend. We’re not helpless.” Marinette reassures her dad, practically pushing him out the door. If he cancelled another trip with Selina, she’d be pissed. And a pissed off Selina means that the wedding is gonna be pushed back and Marinette was not about to let that happen. Not again.

“Are you sure you and Damian can handle the others? And you’re sure I don’t need someone to fill in for Alfred?” He asks, obviously trying to find a reason to stay. Marinette huffs, crossing her arms as she glares up at her dad.

“Are you forgetting that I basically grew up in a French bakery before coming to live with you? Seriously?” She points out, smirking at the resigned look on his face.

“It’s the first time I’ve left Dick alone.” He says softly. She glances behind her, where Dick was currently chasing Jason in an attempt to get him to play tag. Her youngest brother was sweet, and despite the incident at the circus, seemed to be adjusting okay.

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. I promise.” She says.

“Call me or Selina if you guys need anything. And I mean anything.” He says. She agrees, and waves as he gets into the car. Yeah, she’ll call them. When hell freezes over. She was not about to be the one to ruin their romantic weekend. If they really needed them, she’d make Damian call. He didn’t care about possibly ruining a romantic weekend. Locking the door, she turns and whistles, grinning as her youngest brother runs right to her, standing at attention. The other two trail behind him, neither looking excited.

“Okay men, we have an entire weekend without Dad. Do you know what that means?” She asks, posing to try and mimic a general.

“Ice cream for dinner!” Dick cheers, jumping up and down. Marinette grins.

“Right you are, soldier! What else?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tim.

“No sleep?” He asks, finally smiling.

“Like that’s any different for you.” Jason mumbles with crossed arms.

“Good job boys. And what’s the last thing?” She asks, grinning as they all look confused. Perfect. “Nobody tells Dad!” She cheers, laughing as Dick whoops and starts running in circles.

“Or, you could be responsible like you told Father you would be. Actually make them eat dinner and sleep. Two things that are important for their health.” Damian drawls, walking into the room with his arms crossed. Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Or, you could stop being such a buzzkill.” She suggests. He scowls.

“I am not a buzzkill. I am, however, taking Father’s instructions seriously. Grayson and Todd are both supposed to be in bed no later than eleven.” He says.

“That’s not fair! What about-” Jason argues, clearly about to mention patrol, something he knew he wasn't supposed to mention around Dick. It was bad enough that Jason and Tim had taken up the mantle of Robin at 12. Dick would not be allowed out of the house in costume for several years. No way.

“Father said that Drake and I will handle it. You, Marinette and Grayson will remain here.” Damian says in a no-nonsense tone.

“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun! Dad and Alfred are gone, it’s okay to just relax.” Marinette insists, letting Dick grab her hand as she starts towards the kitchen. “Dick and I are going to make gigantic ice cream sundaes and eat until we get sick. You losers can either join us, or go eat some stupid dinner that Damian buys because I’m not cooking tonight.” She adds, laughing as Dick cheers.

“Yeah losers! Mari and I are the best!” He yells, practically vibrating in excitement. Marinette grins. This was going to be the best weekend ever. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the stack of special bowls she had bought specifically for this weekend. They were huge, perfect for giant ice cream sundaes and she’d gotten one for each of her siblings. She figured Jason would trail in eventually, if only to get away from Damian. She loved her brothers, truly she did. But every time he had to wear the cowl, Damian got cranky. It was annoying. She may find his uniform as Red Bird disgusting, but he was always more relaxed as his own persona. Pulling out several different types of ice cream and all of the toppings she could find, Marinette grins at the completely covered counter.

“Okay kiddo, how’re we doing this?” She asks, completely prepared to watch her youngest brother slip into a sugar coma.

“Can I have anything?” He asks, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“Of course.” She says.

“Then I want chocolate ice cream and cookies n cream ice cream and cookie dough ice cream and fruity pebbles ice cream and the peanut butter cup ice cream with hot fudge and marshmallows and caramel and gummy bears and m&ms and whipped cream and a cherry and, oh! Sprinkles! Lots and lots of sprinkles!” He lists off all in one breath. Marinette blinks at him before nodding and beginning to scoop ice cream.

“It’s your sundae, kid.” She says, trying to ignore the nagging thought (that sounds an awful lot like Damian) that this was a horrible idea. She wasn’t going to listen, because that would mean admitting defeat and Dick would probably be upset. So hopefully nothing too bad happens.

“What the hell?” Jason asks, walking in. Marinette frowns.

“Language, Jay.” She reminds him, nodding towards Dick. He rolls his eyes, ruffling Dick’s hair before grabbing a handful of gummy bears.

“Is all that ice cream for him?” He asks, pointing at the huge bowl that she was currently drowning in toppings.

“Yup. Told you guys we’re going to eat ourselves into sugar comas.” She says, passing her little brother his sundae before starting on (a smaller) one for herself.

“Think you can get me a couple scoops of strawberry?” Jason asks after a pause. She looks over at him and grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She teases, switching over to getting his ice cream. She glances over at Dick, eyes widening when she sees the huge dent he’s already made in his ice cream. “Hey, slow down kiddo. You’re gonna get a brain freeze.” She says. He nods, but continues shoveling the ice cream in at an alarming rate. Marinette passes Jason his ice cream while sliding a glass of water to Dick. He frowns at it.

“What’s that for?” He asks with a pout as he hugs his ice cream bowl closer.

“It’s so you can slow down. I don’t actually want you in a sugar coma, buddy.” She says softly, he sighs, but still takes a long drink of water. Finishing up the toppings on her sundae, Marinette grins as Tim walks in.

“Does your offer of ice cream for dinner still stand?” He asks, holding a cup of what she knows to be coffee. She hums, turning to the freezer and grabbing the one ice cream she hadn’t offered to Dick.

“Is your favorite flavor still ‘Coffee Bean Blast’ from Trader Joe’s?” She asks, holding the container. Tim nods with a grin, watching as she gets him several large scoops.

“Thanks Mars.” He says, taking the bowl from her and adding his toppings. Hot fudge and chocolate covered espresso beans. She starts putting away the toppings and ice cream so that they won’t melt, knowing the chances of Damian joining them were slim. He’d never really acted like a kid. Not as long as she’d known him. And since he’s Batman for the weekend, he’d be even less likely to do anything fun. Just as she’s closing the last ice cream container, the kitchen door swings open again.

“I think it may be beneficial for our….bond as siblings, if I were to participate in this ice cream for dinner experiment.” Damian says, his face serious as he walks in. Marinette raises an eyebrow in surprise, but grins at her brother.

“What flavor?” She asks. This was going to be the best weekend ever.

---

Bonus: “I blame you for giving him so much sugar!” Damian yells, stacking a smaller stepladder onto their tallest ladder.

“How was I supposed to know the kid would be able to get up onto the chandeliers?” Marinette counters, sticking mattresses underneath where Dick was hanging precariously, a large grin on his ice-cream covered face. Maybe next time she shouldn’t let him have so much ice cream.

@maribat-bdbwm

[bonvoyagenoona]

Asking for ANOTHER friend:

Who would spend $90.95 on sundae toppings and end up putting them on YOU?

Who would do it with crepe fillings?

Who just flat-out buys caramel and honey, with the brass balls enough to tell the checkout clerk what he'll be using them for?

Bonus: While you're in line with him?

Roomie!!!! Ooooof you sent me with these asks! And just the perfect thing for me to ponder on a sleepless night. Now, let’s see...

Q: Who would spend $90.95 on sundae toppings and end up putting them on YOU? A: Jimin and his fancy palate

The first thought I had was Jungkook, eyes wide as he contemplates all the delicious morsels in the candy aisle and imagining them all over your body. But he'd never spend that much. As we've discussed, Jimin loves the lavish things in life. I'm talking Prada paper clips, Chanel stationery, and Gucci Post-Its. So you know that when he decides to make you his sexy little treat for the weekend, he's going to spend a stupid amount of money. Forget Hershey's chocolate sauce. He's buying bars of Ghiradelli and melting them down. Forget regular sprinkles. Edible gold flakes is where it's at. The man already has a song out called Serendipity. Nothing but Serendipity-like golden opulence for his lady. Only that will do for a palate as refined as his. And he'll be licking, tasting, sucking, and savoring every bit of you with that palate long after the toppings run out.

Q: Who would do it with crepe fillings? A: Taehyung and his fancy palette

This boy loves him some strawberries. Add some fresh blueberries, raspberries, cherries, and bananas, plus some whipped cream, and some Nutella stolen from Namjoon-hyung's shelf on the pantry, and Taehyung's ready. Are you? Spoiler alert: Youre not. Not for the way his eyes grow dark as he starts to paint you. And not just with that sweet hazelnut spread, but with the faint reds, blues, and purples from those berries, juices from the fruit quickly becoming indistinguishable from the juices from your fruit, the sweetest ingredient of all. He'll want to dive right in, but not before sending you into overdrive with that nozzle over your left nipple, airy bursts tickling and sweet cream landing, hiding you playfully until Taehyung sets the whipped cream can down and finds your nipple again with his tongue, his deep chuckle a contrast against the nozzle's high hiss over your right. Hmm. You seem to like that a lot. Maybe he can stretch this treat into a full-on meal.

Q: Who just flat-out buys caramel and honey, with the brass balls enough to tell the checkout clerk what he'll be using them for? A: Yoongi

Oh god, Yoongi. Imaginative yet matter-of-fact Yoongi. When he's asked a question, he answers it. So when the checkout clerk asks him what he's doing with all these jars and bottles of caramel, honey, chocolate, maple syrup, and jam -- mainly because the clerk doesn't see any bread slices or pancake batter or waffle mix? did he forget, or? -- Yoongi, in that beautiful, low voice of his, simply answers, "Oh, this isn't for breakfast. I'm about to go slather my jagiya with all of these ingredients before eating her out and fucking her raw all weekend." The clerk will freeze in place, and in the pause, Yoongi will wonder, brow furrowing, tongue darting out. "Actually, this is a big store. Do you sell bedsheets, too? May need completely new ones. Gonna make a mess." The clerk stutters the aisle and general direction of the bed sets. But Yoongi already knows to look at the end of the aisle. King-sized sheets for his king-sized... well, y'know.

Bonus: While you're in line with him? A: Jin

"...and then, since we'll have been doing that for a couple of hours, at that point, I'll probably lick the chocolate off of her thighs and then we'll probably just go back to missionary." In an odd turn of events, you're the one blushing red. Jin's frankness hasn't risen the blood to his skin, but that'll change when you get home. Which Jin can't wait much longer for. Exasperated, he demands, "Can you hurry up?" when the clerk is still holding onto the gallon of vanilla, threatening to melt. "Wait, you actually bought ice cream?" you ask. "We bought all the other stuff," Jin says. "We can have ice cream after. To cool back down. You can lick it off my cock. It'll also be covered in cream." You smile a little funny, and he looks back at the clerk. "C'mon," he prods. "We don't have all day." Jin will pull you to his side and give you a kiss. As you both watch the clerk zoom through the rest of your items, you smirk to yourself as you think about eating a dish of vanilla drizzled with his cum. The perfect sundae.

More Important Questions

[scaryscarecrows]

I'd Crawl on Broken Glass to be the One That Laughs Last

Gotham’s gone straight to Hell in a handbasket. Scarecrow’s dead, which is no loss, but Bruce is missing, Arkham blew up for reasons unknown, and the Arkham Knight’s Militia is still in control. Oh, sure, there’s a fair chunk of them in lockup, but they’ve been getting steadily more riled as the days wear on (three days since the Asylum, their boss has to be dead, who’s in charge now?), and the tanks are still running patrols, the bombs are still in the road, and there are checkpoints and watchtowers everywhere.

Jim thinks they’re waiting for something. There’s been no assault, not like he thought there might be. The street thugs and any uncaptured Rogues are still allowed to run wild, though the watchtowers have been spotted taking shots at something big flying around out there. Honestly, they’re even leaving the police alone, for the most part...but they will still shoot at the cars if they get too close. It’s like they’re on babysitting duty or something until the Knight gets back. It’s unsettling.

He’s out doing a little exploration-he doubts they’ve killed Batman, or they’d be gone, but Bruce still isn’t around-when something drops onto the roof of his car. He hits the brakes, tires screeching, and narrowly avoids sliding into a tank crossing the road.

Breathe.

Jim has no time to go for his gun before the driver’s side door gets ripped open by what Jim can only describe as the Hulk. The man outside is only a little smaller than Bane*. There’s a rocket launcher on his back and Jim’s sure he’s not the one that landed on the car, because the car would be a pancake.

He’s proven right a second later when the polar opposite of the giant jumps down. That said, this guy might be tiny, but he moves like he knows half a dozen ways to kill you. The cherry on the disaster sundae? Both of them are wearing army fatigues.

Militia. Shit.

“Boys,” he says, already planning on how to get that rocket launcher from the big one, “don’t be stupid.”

The little one doesn’t say anything. The big one laughs and before Jim can move, he’s been pulled out of the car.

“Boss wants to see ya.”

So they have a boss. Who. Who is it? One of their own? Riddler? Penguin? Goddamn Deathstroke? Who is his new problem?

“No.”

“Sorry.” The man does sound mostly sorry. “Not really askin’. C’mon.”

Jim tries to slam his elbow into the man’s collarbone. He doesn’t even really get to move before the little guy grabs his arm and wrenches it behind his back. Not hard enough to dislocate it, but hard enough to be a warning.

“We don’t want to have to hurt you, Commissioner,” the big man says. “We’re just picking you up.”

“Go to Hell.”

A gun presses against his back. Fine. He’ll go. But he won’t like it.

* * *

He’s disarmed, bundled into an APC, and blindfolded. After way too many sharp turns and double-backs, he’s...somewhere in the underside of the city. He’s thinking over near Drescher.

Wherever it is, he’s pulled out of the APC, taken inside somewhere, and handed off to new hands. When the blindfold comes off, his kidnappers are nowhere to be seen.

The men in charge of him now (and only for now, give him time…) are less...unnerving...than the other two. One is wearing the white uniform of a medic, and the other is having a snack. Cashews? Cashews.

The medic is a man on a mission. Jim doesn’t even manage to get out a, ‘you’ll be sorry’ before the man’s turning on his heel, jaw working furiously, and snapping, “Come on.”

“Where are we going.”

“Boss wants to see you, won’t listen to reason. This way.”

He stalks off and the snacker chuckles.

“Cashew?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” They follow the medic down a crumbling hallway. “They didn’t scare you too much, did they?”

“What’s with the good-cop-bad-cop routine?” he demands. “Is your friend up there gonna come back and threaten to carve my face off?”

The man just laughs.

“Probably, but he does that to everyone.”

“Sometime today!”

Huh.

Jim thinks they might be in the old mall. Scarecrow had been driving that way when something had happened, and, well, if Jim were going to have an evil base of operations, this would be a good one. Lot of ways in and out, nobody ever comes down here anymore-too dangerous-and it’s big, big enough to hold tanks and soldiers and whatever else these boys have. When they round a corner, he sees a familiar logo and decides that yes, that’s where they are. Hm.

They round another corner and end up in the back of the building. Jim’s not sure what this was, but there’s a corridor lined with doors. The medic stops in front of one and turns, hands clasped behind his back.

“Twenty minutes and no more,” he snarls at Jim. “You’re lucky you get that many minutes. You try anything, you might live to regret it. Might. You tire him out, out you go, I don’t care if it’s been two minutes. Don’t touch shit, don’t knock shit down, don’t--”

“I think he’s got the picture,” his other escort soothes. “Don’t terrorize him.”

“Humph. With the amount of work I had to put in to keep his dumb ass alive, I’m entitled to terrorize people.”

“Still.”

“And I’ll tell you something else. You lay a finger, one solitary finger on him, you so much as breathe too hard--”

“There won’t be anything left to bury,” the other man says, smiles with all his teeth. “Here you go, Commissioner.”

“Twenty. Minutes.”

And then he’s shoved into a room with--and good God, how--the Arkham Knight.

The Knight is lying in bed. He looks the worse for wear, but Jim can’t quite muster up pity for him. This...this is his fault. Gotham, Bruce, Barbara…

He swallows down the rage. Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because the Knight’s not alone. Jim supposes they wouldn’t just leave him unattended, not with those injuries, but still.

The Knight doesn’t seem to notice Jim. He’s certainly not looking at him. He’s looking at the laptop the other man has. Right now, at this exact second, he looks like a sick kid, wan and tired, eyes fluttering like he’s fighting to stay awake. But he’s not. Robin or not, he’s...the Knight’s not that boy anymore. Robin wouldn’t have done this, any of this. Robin’s dead.

“Sir.” The other man here isn’t wearing a uniform, he’s wearing jeans and a raggedy flannel that hangs open over some sort of band shirt. But his bearing is still that of a soldier’s, and the rifle leaning against the wall by his chair is top-of-the-line. “Gordon’s here.”

“Hrm?”

“Remember? You wanted to see him.” The Knight blinks a few times, heavy and confused, and tries to lever himself up before his companion reaches over to pin his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

More confused silence. Now that he’s moved his head, Jim can see his pupils are blown wide. That’s not a surprise. He’s pretty sure he was in Arkham when it came down, and he hadn’t looked well before that.

Serves him right, he thinks, remembering the cuts on Barbara’s cheeks and chin. Serves the bastard right.

He keeps his mouth shut. The laptop has been closed and set aside, and the rifle is now in its owner’s lap. It’s casual enough, but the threat’s there all the same: you’ll go through me to get to him.

He wonders, a bit, what drives these men. He doesn’t really care, but he wonders a little all the same. Even the ones in the cells have been resolute that ‘the boss’ will get them out, that he’s got everything in hand, just you wait and see.

...in their defense, Jim had thought he had to be dead, and yet here he is. So.

“S’right,” the Knight finally breathes. He sounds terrible, and Jim suddenly matches the purple swelling on his throat to handprints. That scares him. Not out of pity or sympathy, but because what little he’s seen of the man says he can handle himself. Whoever did that… “S’right.”

“You up for it?”

He’d better be. Jim was kidnapped off the street for this.

“Yes.” Good. “Glad to see you’re unharmed.”

No thanks to you, Jim doesn’t snap, resolutely ignores the memory of the Knight holding up his hands and telling Scarecrow, voice painfully earnest, to take him and let Jim and his men and Robin leave in one piece. He settles for a curt nod, can’t quite muster up a, wish I could say the same.

The Knight pulls in a painful-sounding breath and drops his head to the side.

“Bring up the footage for Commissioner Gordon, would you?”

“Yessir.” The laptop returns, balanced delicately over the rifle. Jim doesn’t know if he wants to know what’s going on. “Hang on...give it a sec to load…”

The Knight moves and visibly bites back a wince, but the new angle means that Jim can see the full extent of the bruising on his neck.

“There we go--you okay, boss?”

“Ribs,” he breathes. “They don’t like it when people zipline into them.”

What.

“Need me to call--”

“No.” He swallows hard and beckons Jim closer. “M’fine. Just sore. And stiff.” He clears his throat, grimacing. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount.”

“M’just not used to being still this long--”

“Deal,” his friend says sharply. The Knight just grins, but that annoys the other guy. “Did you miss the flatline bit?”

“Technically?”

“I--never mind.” He makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Never mind...okay, all set.”

He turns the laptop around and Jim hesitates before perching on the very edge of the bed. Nothing terrible happens to him.

“This is footage from my helmet. How it kept going after that level of trauma, I’ll never know, but my IT department managed to recover it remotely.”

The footage picks up in a dark area, abandoned sewer network or something, probably, and it’s glitchy and stuttery.

Bruce has been caught on camera before, but not like this. This is...savage, animalistic. He comes out of nowhere, dodging gunfire and seemingly oblivious to the shouts of surprise, and moves in via a flying kick to the camera itself, which goes white and static-y for a second. A few of them come up behind him and suffer backhands and powerful kicks for their troubles, and then Bruce fills up the frame, shoulders positioned like he’s got his arms out and...and...

He looks at the Knight, looks at the bruises around his neck, and looks back at the screen in time to see Bruce going down and being dragged backwards.

“He do this to you?”

The look the man gives him is so reminiscent of the little boy Jim remembers that it makes his head spin. It screams, I know you’re not really that stupid...right?

“Well, I didn’t do it to myself.”

“--okay, sir, I’m just gonna…”

The helmet moves and Jim spots the medic from earlier before it gets set on the ground, facing Bruce. Bruce is chained to a pipe, seemingly unconscious.

“Don’t talk, just nod. Can you breathe okay?”

There’s an obvious cut--they don’t want to share it all, apparently--and then Bruce stirs and starts...giggling. Jim knows that giggle.

“What the hell.”

The Knight shudders and burrows under his blankets.

“It’s complicated. We’re reasonably sure he’s been eliminated, or at the very least contained, but--” A hand moves, presumably indicating himself. “I made it out. He might have, too.”

His friend closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We’ve got teams sweeping Arkham’s grounds to the best of our ability,” he says. “Unfortunately, we are not a rescue team and as such are not fully equipped to handle the more unstable areas. That said, given the police department’s...track record...we would very much prefer that your men stay out of our way until we either find the individual formerly known as the Batman, or definitively confirm his demise. We’re hoping that at the very least, any injuries he may have sustained slowed him down, but we can’t prove that, given the lack of video footage for the incident.”

“It’s our understanding that Batman has, at least for the time being, lost his fight against the effects of J.” The Knight swallows. “Of Joker’s blood. I attempted to contain him--”

“Contain, my ass,” his friend grumbles. The Knight ignores him.

“I attempted to contain him,” he says again, “via...ah…”

“He blew up the goddamn asylum with himself and Batman inside,” comes the sharp interjection. “In case you managed to miss that.”

Jim had not managed to miss that, thank you very much.

“I noticed,” he says dryly. The Knight huffs a painful-sounding laugh and falls silent.

There’s. There’s a lot Jim wants to say. The Knight was Robin, and Joker killed him (and made sure they all knew it, that tape, good God, he’d sent it to everyone and Jim remembers Dove bursting into tears when she tried to tell him), but he’s not dead now, and look at what he’s done.

Much as he’d like to demand answers--or at least bring half of that up--he won’t. He doubts the man with the laptop will react well; now that he really looks, the man’s tense, clearly poised to move if he has to.

Jim can probably take him. He absolutely can’t take the others that will come at the commotion.

There’s a small dinging sound, and silence, and then an urgent, “Sir. Sir.”

“Hrm?”

“We got something.”

The Knight blinks a few times before half-surging up and demanding, “Let’s go, let’s go, then, help me up--”

“Chair or Trent?”

“Neither--”

“Chair or Trent.”

“Chair,” he grumbles after a second. “But I can walk on my own--”

“Yeah, but if the doc sees you, he’ll be mad. Here it is.”

Jim moves, semi-prepared to offer to help but not really wanting to, but they must have a system, because the Knight’s in the chair with a blanket in short order.

“I feel like a cheap Bond villain,” he’s complaining now. “One that rolls down a ramp into an electrified pool or something.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll consider your life choices, sir.”

“They weren’t supposed to come back to haunt me!”

“I know, sir.”

“Christ...what do we have.”

Should he…? Sure, apparently.

What a day. He needs a drink. A good strong one.

“My understanding is it’s better seen than explained, sir. No body, I don’t think.”

“Fantastic...the bastard’ll survive anything.”

Jim privately thinks the same applies to him, but he doesn’t share that thought. He doubts it will go over well.

The computer room isn’t crammed full of people. There’s one guy on the monitors and another one-one of the ones from before, actually, the one with the cashews-lounging in a chair next to him, drinking a Coke.

“What’s going on, you said something turned up--” He doesn’t quite hide a shiver, but when the other people in the room zero in on him, he shakes his head and insists, “M’fine.”

“Boss, I can link this to a laptop if you’re s’posed to be in bed--”

“M’fine. Pull up the footage.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” monitor-guy says, spinning around and wheeling over to make room. “Looks like he got out, same as you.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I joke when it mattered, sir? Here, look. See this?” He makes the screen bigger. “That look familiar to you?”

It certainly looks familiar to Jim. Bruce’s cowl is difficult to mistake, and there it is, crumpled in the rubble. It’s singed, and one of the ears is broken, but it is Bruce’s cowl.

“Damn,” the Knight breathes, and...Jim doesn’t like admitting it, not after tonight, but...he looks so young. A scared little boy, that’s all. “That’s not good.”

“What do we do, sir?”

“We don’t even know for sure if he’s out.” The Knight’s friend leans over the chair to get a better look at the monitor. “Maybe he tried getting out and died, we don’t--”

“I made it out,” the Knight says quietly.

There’s a wave of annoyed grumbling that includes at least one, ‘self-sacrificing dumbass’ and a, ‘in spite of your best efforts’. Jim has to wonder about that one. He can’t muster up that much sympathy, but he does wonder.

The Knight just sighs and adjusts his blanket around his shoulders.

“Fair. Anyways, seeing as I found a way out, it’s not unlikely that he’s done the same, barring the. The possibility of an instant death. I suspect we wound up in a pocket, though, so.”

“You didn’t notice anything on your way out?” Jim demands. “Was he right with you?”

“I was--”

“Concussed and bleeding to death,” a new voice snaps. “And in no shape to be walking, let alone note-taking. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

“Briefing the--”

“Literally anybody else can do that.” The angry voice belongs to the medic from before. “You don’t seem to understand what ‘flatline’ means, sir, or maybe you’ve just got a death wish, but tough fucking titty, said the kitty, you’re not dying on my watch. Say bye-bye to the commissioner, you’re going back to bed and staying there or on God, I’ll put you in a coma and keep you there until you don’t have so much as a bruise. Do I make myself clear?”

Jim expects argument. None of the Robins ever let Batman boss them around to that extent, and he knows damn well that if he’d backtalked his superiors like that, he’d be in, frankly, deep shit. But the Knight just sighs.

“He’s been here long enough, anyway.” Long enough for what? “Keep your men out of our way, Commissioner. No offense, but Batman existed for a reason. You can’t handle him.”

Jim bristles.

“Can’t handle--”

“You know it’s true,” he snaps, and straightens up, turns to the man with the cashews. “Call everyone back.” All of a sudden that’s no longer a little boy playing Soldiers. That’s the man that crippled Gotham within hours. “I want everyone off the streets and back at base, now. Do not engage under any circumstances.”

“Yessir.”

“Get into the street cameras,” he continues. “If a rat comes out of a sewer, I want to see it. I want whatever drones we have left out and searching, but leave the car alone. That hasn’t worked so far and I’m not losing more--”

He must breathe wrong, because he suddenly starts coughing, harsh, violent whoops from down in his chest.

“Get him back to bed,” the medic orders once the coughs cease. “Or he’ll be Snow White and believe you me, nobody is getting in here to kiss him awake.”

“Jones--”

“We can handle this, sir. We’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“But--”

“You trained us for this, remember? We’re professionals.”

The Knight falls silent, one hand still pressed against his ribs, and finally melts back into his chair.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Bye, commish.”

He doesn’t recognize the men that take him back. The streets are empty, though, barring the patrolling drones, and they make it back to the GCPD unscathed.

Unfortunately, Jim returns to, quite frankly, a disaster. The officers on duty are tied up, and the militia cells are empty. Not a man left. He’s just freeing Cash when the broadcast screen crackles and the Knight appears on it, face serious.

“I mean it, Commissioner,” he says. “Keep out of the way, or I’ll put you in a cell instead.”

“You--”

“Tell Bullock hey for me, would ya?” He leans forward. “Stay safe.”

Click.

THE END

*I’m figuring Bane is bigger than the Giant Mooks because his boss fight consists of you jumping on him to slash his Venom tubes AND because he can and will run you over, while Giant Mooks of any affiliation are not rideable and don’t run.

[damn-stark]

Trio~ Ellie & Dina Imagine

Ellie x Fem!reader x Dina

Requested by

A/N- I love this :) anyway I combined them cause they matched up, hope you guys don’t mind!

Warning- fluff!!

———-

What’s the official definition of liking two people at the same time, with equal amounts of passion?

Uhh..probably in everyone else’s mind, weird for one. For you, inside the depths of your confused mind and tangled heart...weird. Not in the sense that liking...loving two people at the same time is weird. It’s just weird in the sense that all the feelings just collided with one another, creating this big twister of confusion and frustration. Not only because it was two people, but because those two people. Dina and Ellie to be exact were also your best friends.

The messed universe was just playing a cruel, cruel joke on you. It’s not like it could be nice and treat you normal and just make you like one person, no, it wanted you to suffer. Suffer already in a damaged, infected filled world. Cruel.

Nonetheless here you were, in Jackson, trying to drown out your mind in the least damaging and best way you could find. Just simply listening to music. Watching people dance and watching Ellie walk in.

Wait.

Oh.

Ellie.

You clear your throat and turn your back to face her, taking in a huge gulp of your drink before setting the cup down. Suddenly feeling beads of sweat form on your forehead on how nervous you got. Did she notice?

“Y/N.”

Quickly you swallow the rest of your drink, the lump feeling rough against your throat at how fast the liquid travels down. “Ellie.” You greet, pretending to be surprised that she was behind you, even if you had seen her and heard her coming your way.

Nice way to act nonchalant.

Not.

You turn around and show her a smile, “hey...Ellie.”

Smooth.

“What are doing here all alone?” Ellie questioned as she swiped a drink from the bar.

You shrug and grab your empty cup, “just enjoying the night.”

A sudden cute and familiar laugh enters the room, your attention getting stolen by the girl your heart was also gushing about, the sight of her perfect sweet smile making you grin to yourself, but being sure not to stay out of focus with Ellie in front of you.

“I just wanted to say,” Ellie continued, scratching the back of her before looking back at her girlfriend Dina.

Was that forgotten to say? That Ellie and Dina were not only your best friends, or your crushes, but they were also dating. That’s like the cherry on top of the perfectly good sundae that you would see on salvageable food magazines; “actually ask, I guess,” Ellie paused, your eyes flickering to Dina who was slowly making her way over, stopping to chat with every person that stopped her; “you know what, I think it’s better to go outside.”

You nod and leave your empty cup on the table before leaving to follow after her, Dina quickly notices and follows after the both of you, her arm wrapping around your shoulder once she reaches your side.

“Hi, y/n.” She greets happily, a trait you admire.

You grin, trying to calm the heat that crept onto your cheeks. “Hey, Dina.” You look down at her growing stomach and can’t help but let out a giggle, “how’s the little guy?”

Ellie laughs as she pushes the door open, a cold breeze instantly hitting your face at the action.

“The little girl,” Dina corrects, “is fine.”

You shake your head and hold her hand that was wrapped around your shoulders, “it’s a boy, I’m telling you.”

“And when it turns out to be a little girl and proves you wrong, I will demand some sort of apology. I’ll think about it, but until the baby can prove you wrong, just be prepared.”

“Ahh, okay, you got it.”

Ellie falls by your other side and wraps her own around you, the gestures and feeling of being in both girls embrace making your heart swell. Truly if life could be just these moments, there will be no need to complain. But alas life was full of ugly infected and other humans that acted as wild as the monsters that roamed the streets.

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about, Ellie?”

Said girl, slightly turns to Dina, both sharing a look before her green eyes turned to you and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Oh, let’s wait until we get to my house.”

You offer a short nod, before walking in silence, the nerves you were now feeling, upsetting your stomach and making all shaky, letting your mind come up with theories.

Does Ellie know the crush you have on her girlfriend? Or does Dina know you have a crush on Ellie? Or, or had they both caught to how weird your heart was and knew you liked them both?

Hell. Could this anticipation be over? Walking felt like walking on hot coals, that was never going to come to stop since the pace you all were walking was incredibly slow. Was this how teenage girls felt before when in proximity of the people they liked?

“So…” Ellie rolled out before throwing herself on the snow covered backyard that was outside her little home, and behind the home Joel Miller once used to live at. “About this thing I wanted to ask...or Dina and I wanted to ask.”

You swallow thickly and help Dina, sit by you on the snow, all of you unbothered by the wet feeling the snow is going to leave.

“I’ve noticed or—”

“I’ll say it.” Dina cut off Ellie, the girl shooting Dina a grateful smile.

“First” You bravely interject, feeling incredibly hot even if the weather outside was freezing, “I want to share that,” you hesitate, fear pulling down your confidence that you had managed to build on your walk here. The figures of the two girl’s you liked made your heart pound in your chest. The same fear wrapping you in a dangerous and stupid bubble of self doubt and insecurity, holding you back from finally confessing feelings that have been wanting to tear away and reveal themselves.

Did you really want to ruin this perfect friendship with your two best friends? What if neither of them liked you, even if the signs were there. The lingering stares and touches, the all nighter conversations you would have. Special and small moments stolen that made them even that more special to you.

What if they didn’t feel them the same way and you were just some weirdo? What if...No! No more hiding.

“I” you begin to stammer, feeling your cheeks burn hotter, “I like you guys, I have for a while,” both girls part their lips and just share a look with one another and let you finish. “Not in the friendship type of way, but in something more than that, I..I love you guys. Not only one, but both. And I know that may sound weird, or stupid but I do and I can’t help contain it anymore, I had to confess before my heart exploded or before.”

“Y/N.” Dina grinned, her hand grabbing yours with an assuring grip, “we love you too. We actually wanted to talk to you about that right now before you interrupted.”

Your eyes widen and you express a soft “oh” looking between Ellie and Dina, before a happy grin spread on your features. “Well I feel relieved now,” you reveal, letting your head rest on Dina’s lap.

“We’ve known for a while,” Ellie confesses with a playful smirk, “you’re not too good and hiding it.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, “well I’m sorry, it’s just hard telling the girls you like how you feel.”

Dina chuckles and caresses your cheek, her other hand cradling Ellie’s cheek as she moved to rest her head on her lap as well. “It doesn't matter, we all know now and I think it’s time we do something about it.”

“Like?” You press with a raised eyebrow.

“Go on a date.” Ellie finishes for her.

“Ok,” you smile warmly, “what will it be? Movies and some warm food? Or a picnic outside of these walls? What does baby J want to do?”

Dina shakes her head, “she likes the idea of a movie. A Christmas movie.”

You chuckle, “sounds nice. I knew he would like that.”

Ellie copies your laugh and Dina responds by standing up and letting you both drop to the snow covered ground. “You guys are not funny.” She turns around and begins to stomp away, Ellie and you both quickly jumping to your feet and following after her. A happy grin on your face that was impossible to wipe off, not only because you were enjoying your time with your girls, but it had finally been time to reveal your feelings, it felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders and you could float into a happy abyss.

Finally after months of hiding, you could act yourself. Finally.

You call out after her. “How much do you want to bet, it's going to be a baby boy?!”

Dina shakes her head and keeps marching away, “not funny. I’ll bet nothing.”

“Just so you know, Ellie and I are going to win this bet.” You smile, “mark my words.”

[literaphobe]

another reason to limit the amount of white people associated w amigops/otv and friends is the stuff that’s come out about ash recently :/ like yeah people can learn and grow etc but if you’re still dropping slurs in your late 20s and casually racist even tho so many of your cc friends are poc... girl

ok im about to GO OFF im fucking pissed about little miss cigarette tray,,,, ok i’ve gotten a ???? vibe about her before a :/ vibe n it’s all the way back in rust group forming when i thought she was being a lil manipulative. n the shit she did caused so much annoying shit that literally could’ve been avoided

okay so rae corpse ash n sykkuno bump into toast n jack’s group, right? and they were all like we should all be together in one big group!!!! but then they were like wait what’s the group limit what if we don’t have enough space,,, and then they start experimenting n adding each other i guess? n it turned out they had space for everyone but one person (iirc?????) and ash suddenly was like oh it’s okay i’ll leave!!!! u can all be grouped together i don’t need to be in the group!!! n other stuff that was like v self destructive sounding n like oh no it’s ok no one wants me here anyway etc and syk was like ???? because literally no one had any plans to leave ANYONE out they were literally just trying to figure things out n suggesting ideas and she was over there tryna be the self sacrificial hero i guess?????

and then. people in chat got really mad and toxic hating on rae and sykkuno in their chats yelling about how ash was being forcefully left out or whatever which wasn’t the case at all n wouldn’t have been if she didn’t give that impression??? and then RAE thought that ash was GENUINELY getting excluded which made her ACTUALLY mad at her friends?????? who did nothing wrong???????? and then like weeks later when they talked about this ash was like “oh actually i was super upset about getting left out :/ but it’s all good now!!!” like GOD. NO ONE WAS TRYING TO LEAVE YOU OUT. U LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY STARTED ACTING LIKE SOME SELFLESS VICTIM N REMOVED URSELF WHEN NO ONE TOLD YOU TO LEAVE?? anyway at the time i gave her the benefit of doubt that she wasn’t doing it on purpose since i thought she was ‘nice’ but u know what? it’s a fucking ugly look that a white woman got a bunch of streamers of color hate for “bullying” her and “excluding” her when she was literally the one who chose to walk away n act selfless WHEN NO ONE ASKED HER TO DO THAT

anyway now that i’ve got that off my chest let’s talk about her racist ass comments in her community discord. she essentially made a bunch of anti-asian remarks, specifically many anti-chinese ones (1. i had Chinese food earlier maybe that’s why I feel sick lol 2. making fun of Chinese people for supposedly eating bats 3. calling corona the bat soup virus 4. continuing to be grossed out by what Chinese/Asian people supposedly eat and being all ‘oh maybe i’m just weird w food tho :/‘ n letting people get away w responding to her saying ‘Asians eat a lot of weird stuff no no u r fine!!’ + ‘Chinese people n their food bruh’ which. just. i am very disgusted 5. ‘guys my cup was made in China am I corona infected’ + some other stuff i’m too tired to recap here look at this twitter link)

she also talked about how the BLM protests were.... stupid..... and called people idiots for protesting......... said there was ‘a right and wrong way to protest and this is wrong’ and ‘it’s not like we just can’t have police officers’ ,,,,,, so yeah. and she also said the r word and she called someone the f slur on stream once and uh..... yeah she sucks!

honestly the shit cherry on top of this shit sundae is that she literally profits off asian aesthetics w her anime bitch ass v tuber thing n other stuff on her stream n her twitter handle is literally SUGOI_ASH??? also like otv n friends is a mostly Asian friend group who propelled her lily white ass to success???? she mooched off the success of streamers of color only to say racist ass shit like this???

anyway. she “apologized” by saying “I GUESS i’m sorry for being ignorant n I’m sorry IF YOU WERE OFFENDED. ANYWAY–“ and moved the fuck on and like just. fuck off w that shit. it pains me that she managed to get a larger following from all this in the few months she’s hung out w otv n friends and sydney a black bi streamer literally has less followers on twitch? like what the fuck is up with that make it make sense??? anyway i hope everyone unfollows ash tray n follows Sydeon on twitch instead :-)

also idk how many people in otv + friends know about this. i highly doubt there will be a dramatic kick out of ash from their friend group if it becomes a thing they all know about. i think ever since they kicked out f*dmyster they’re a little traumatized about having to publicly remove anyone from their circle in general? because many other streamers n content creators will jump on it and comment on it very heavily and make them all very vulnerable n i def don’t want that or expect that either. i hope they play w ash less from now on tho? some people commented that in the corpse lobby yesterday it seemed like people weren’t interacting w ash as much? idk if that’s really the case but i will respect whatever they choose to do if they even know what happened,, i guess if i see her show up in future lobbies i’ll just like ignore her lol