#*taps head meme*

[zabiume]

9 please!

9. worst part of canon

the sternritters. i think it's obvious that kubo loves an ensemble but where the soul society and hueco mundo had strong personal stakes and characterization, the sternritters just feel bland to me. granted, kubo had his health issues, but it felt very uninspired to have the quincies portrayed as persecuted victims of soul society in the first arc and then have tybw pull a 'they're still victims but they're also nazi-coded, so stan soul society' and that's just...inconsistent to me. besides all of that, i also think a lot of them are boring and there were way too many of them. when people talk about bleach's villains – sure, a couple of them have started bringing yhwach up, but aizen, grimmjow and ulquiorra still dominate the conversation, and believe me, i loved getting to see bankai!rukia, but nothing was more amazing than her fight against aaroneiro. so much of the HM arc had to do with the arrancars reconciling with their own true nature and their philosophical quest for meaning in one way or another, while the SS arc introduced us to one iconic character after another and cemented the classic bleach aesthetic. meanwhile, tybw has the grandiose of a war story, and a certain finality to it that amplifies the stakes (not to mention, uryu's 'betrayal' and ichigo's own conflict about his heritage) but i think it would have been interesting if kubo took a different direction entirely with ichigo's search for identity where, in the absence of Evil Sternritters or yhwach or any of that nonsense, ichigo would have to face the fact that it was soul society who killed his mother (like they did with soken) but i understand that, from an editorial perspective, shinigami characters are very popular and this would definitely change the balance of things, and also it would probably convolute isshin's backstory a little bit but idk. tldr: the sternritters were (to me) forgettable

[shih-coulda-had-it]

AFO allowed Gigantomachia to run around naked for a while though!

C384

you can make an argument that the crosshatching is just tasteful censorship shadows, but I think it's pants. years of squatting in the mountains and using the Mole Quirk will shred 'em.

[uovoc]

did not appreciate just how funny "A mafia boss who trades in narcotic substances for the magically inclined is going to try and kill me and everyone I've ever loved. Happily, everyone I've ever loved is either dead or absent at the moment" was at the time

[solarrush]

OK WELL

I just read your fic and I am very angry because I need MORE how DARE you have such good writing because now I'm dying help

BOY HOWDY HAS THIS BEEN SITTIN IN MY INBOX FOR A HOT SECOND.

But fear not!! Your patience will be rewarded!! >:3c

[branmer]

neroon ranting angrily about some stupid warrior caste drama and branmer shutting him up by just gently taking his face in his hands and smooching him uwu

[harfanfare]

Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter

Your wishlist containing released games is empty.

In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.

“thought u would never play it lol”

“weren't you supposed to be studying??”

He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.

“stream it to me when you play it”

And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.

“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”

“waiting for my cg to load up…”

[NAME]: “not enough affection points”

“damn”

“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”

Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.

He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.

If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.

You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.

At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.

“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”

“I want to go through this game myself!”

“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”

No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.

…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.

“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”

You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.

He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.

You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.

…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.

The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.

An error has occurred.

Caught exception:

Traceback (most recent call last):

File “characters”, line 46, in script

File “stats”, line 153, in script

File “story”, line 665, in script

File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1

File “backup_data”, line 139, in log

To continue:

“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.

Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>

— ORTHO”

…Damn those Shrouds.

[lovings4turn]

ᯓ★  𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe. 

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked. 

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there🥳

it was official: you were absolutely fucked. 

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories. 

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything. 

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle. 

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn. 

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to. 

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment. 

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss. 

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal. 

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn. 

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow. 

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour. 

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you. 

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day. 

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment. 

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day. 

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance. 

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with. 

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was. 

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips. 

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim. 

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea

[flamingpudding]

The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles #2

A/N: Some more linked to a prompt week writing I did

>>Masterpost

Original this builds on: Link

Rowdy Cousin

Batman swore internally, from the outside he stoically sat in his chair and did nothing to indicate the absolute chaos that was going on in his mind. The Meeting rooms light flickered and the speakers once more started up loudly blaring a song all over the Watchtower. He was pretty sure one of his sons had told him once that playing that song was a meme.

"Someone do something about that kid! He is Rickrolling us!" Green Lantern screamed above the music.

"Constantine is already trying to do something." Superman's hands covering his sensitive ears as the music must sound to him even louder.

Batman very much only looped one thought in his head. -It's only for world ending purpose, I cannot use it right now.-

He had a responsibility to uphold, he was the patriarch of the earth branch family. This was not something that required him to use that. No he would not use it. He refused. This was not a world ending matter. Surely Constantine or anyone else of the Justice League Dark would solve this problem any second now.

The screens flicker and Batman did anything he could in his mind to not let his eye twitch even if no one would be able to see it. Cat videos were playing where second earlier statistics and observatory programs had been running.

No he would not, they could handle this problem no need to involve family.

The music stopped and some of his hero colleagues let out a relieved sigh only for a familiar laugh to echo through the watchtower and a new song starting to play. One that apparently counts all 100 dumb ways to die.

"Why is Klarion even targeting the watchtower like this?!" The Flash shouted over the lyrics before turning to him.

"Did one of your kids piss him off or something?!"

"No." At least not as far as he knew, though considering the recent discovery as well as the surprise visits his uncle had done lately he might have a guess why the witch boy was targeting them right now. Didn't mean he would elaborate this reason to the other heroes present.

Before Wonder Woman could comment John Constantine stormed in the room and slammed his hands down onto the table staring right at Batman with blood shot eyes. "Call him."

"Who?"

"Don't play fucking dumb bats. You know who I mean. This is not the witch brat alone. There is another entity and if you don't want the fucking watchtower crashing into earth you call him right now."

"Bats, he is not talking about who I think he is?" Superman carefully asked while the other heroes looked at him just as questionable.

He held his staring contest with Constantine a little longer before he grunted and reached into his utility belt pulling out a small bat-shaped pendant. A personalized upgraded calling card, his uncle had gifted to him as well as each of his children and extended family members.

This was not how he imagined a meeting in regards to his new discoveries and a possible sure fire contingency plan against world ending emergencies would go. He rubbed his thumb against the engraving waiting for a short moment for it to pulse, before tapping the pendant three times, paused and tapped it two more times. This was a non-emergency call, even if his colleagues might disagree.

He still thought they could very well handle this situation without the help of his uncle.

"BABY BAT, YOU CALLED THIS IS THE FIRST TIME YOU DID!"

The present heroes watched in stunned fashion how a white haired, 20 years old man stepped out of a green portal and instantly zoomed across the room to hug THE Batman around his head rubbing his cheek against the bat's cowl mindful of the pointy parts.

And Batman was letting the man do that only looking resigned.

"We agreed that I would only call on you with this pendant for emergencies."

The white haired man only hummed before his head turned sharply and green glowing eyes narrowed at Constantine, who visibly paled and took a step back standing straight and looking very much like he regretted what he had asked Batman to do. "Trading game is not being rude to you is he?"

The bat only grunted and the white haired man finally let go of him, humming as he took in his surroundings, eyes glinting in mischievously as he saw the flickering lights, animal videos on screen and heard the blaring music over the speaker. "When I okey-ed Klarion to go playing with his cousins I didn't think he would seek you two out. He had been talking about his older cousins starting another game of 'who's the better demon lord' in different dimensions. I thought he was joining their bet."

Wait did he say two? Batman grunted and the white haired guy chuckled. "I will be back in a second."

Not even the Flash could react as fast as the white haired man disappeared and reappeared with Klarion next to him. Clearly pulling on the witch boy's ear like a father would when their child had been naughty. The flickering lights and blaring of music over the speakers had stopped.

"Ow DAD what in the name of chaos are you doing here."

"Your Cousin called me. You are disturbing his work and risking them crashing into earth with Technus' help."

"YOU SNITCHED TO MY DAD?!"

"Hn."

"Technus get out of their network or I will lock you up on a Medieval Island for three decades."

As if the present heroes weren't confused enough a face appeared on one of the screens. Glaring at the white haired man. "You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me, if you stay in there any longer. I will also dig out the old thermos and soup you additionally for a decade or more."

The face on screen grumbled and the heroes nearly flinched back as a ghostly, green skinned man came out of it, looking every bit frustrated and annoyed. "I was just getting a good look at this modern technology, you have banned me from any big shot Industries…"

"We had that discussion 100 years ago, Technus. Back to the Ghost Zone." The white haired man commanded by opening a portal next to them with the wave of his hand and surprisingly, the green skinned guy listened.

"Sorry about this Baby Bat and Little Demi. Klarion will be grounded for a bit and re-educated in how to bond without risking potentially killing any bystanders. Oh and remember I will come by later for Baby Ghost to get his checkup with Frostbite!"

"Dad, please no grounding! Anything but that!"

"I am sure your Grandpa will be happy to have your help during your grounding."

"Dad! NO! I don't want to keep time in order! I live for chaos not order!"

The man was just smiling and completely ignoring Klarion's complains as he turned towards Batman and Wonder Woman, for reasons the hero's didn't understand.

"Well we will be on our way then Baby Bat, Little Demi!"

Batman grunted and the white haired man chuckled, leaving through the portal and dragging along a whining Klarion, who apparently was that man's son.

Just before the portal closed, the man stuck his head back out looking towards Wonder Woman with a mischievous smile. "Oh before I forget! Pops Clockwork sents his regards Little Demi . He doesn't want me saying this, but he is glad about the path you choose. Says you're set on a pretty good timeline!"

The head disappeared into the portal again and it finally closed. Wonder Woman was left blinking at the empty space, her mouth slightly open with the silent question of "What?"

"Bats, who was that?" The Flash was the first to break the silence that had followed as eyes turned to the dark knight.

"His Uncle." / "The Ghost King."

Superman and Constantine spoke at the same time. The JLD member flinched back as he looked at the glowering bat. Muttering something the man took his leave or rather escaped the room as quickly as possible as Batman kept glaring. Meanwhile Wonder Woman was slowly having a crisis of her own as suddenly family relations that had been hinted to her through Pandora made sense. "Clockwork... no, Titan Cronus? The Ghost King... Uncle Daniel?"

Chaos broke among the present heroes.

"WHAT UNCLE?!"

[puckarchives]

the (infamous) hughes brothers sleepovers: l. hughes

blurb: in which you and luke introduce the daughter the world never even knew you had to the nhl.  / word count: 1.8k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

When the tradition originally started, Luke was in his rookie year of playing with Jack for the Devils, and began entirely as an accident. Somehow, Quinn ended up passed asleep in the middle of your living room, flanked by Luke and Jack the weekend that the Canucks played the Devils, too worn out by their hours-long FIFA and Call of Duty battles, and high off of the inordinate amount of snacks the three had consumed.

This, however, quickly evolved into an actual planned sleepover; once a month, one of the boys would host the other two at their home, where they would all act akin to literal children— they would build a fire outside, and once they got inside, would build an actual fort— pillows, couch cushions, and blankets would litter the ground, and by the time you knew it, you would come down to find all three tangled together somehow, with Luke’s arm over Quinn’s face, Jack’s head hanging over the edge of his makeshift bed, and all of them in the same order: Jack on the left, Luke in the middle of his two older brothers, and Quinn on the right. 

In short, it was the cutest thing you had ever seen— you got to see the level of adoration and love that each brother had for the other two, and got to see the way they interacted outside of the rink, and outside of the cameras and fame. During the sleepovers, they were just that— three brothers who cared about each other, and who loved each other. 

This, however, brought you to your most recent predicament: here you were at 11PM on a Friday night, trying to herd the three Hughes brothers around a 24-hour Target, following behind them with a cart that was quickly growing in the amount of sugar it held. This month was Luke’s— and by extension, yours as well— turn to host, which meant that you had the opportunity to load them all of into your car, drive them to Target, and watch them go crazy trying to grab snacks. 

“Well, if you get those, then Jack won’t eat them. You know that, Q” Luke said to his older brother, who was holding a pack of Nutter Butter cookies, while Jack was in the aisle over, stacking his arms with the Smirnoff’s he would later try to ice his brothers with. 

“Good, more for me then,” Quinn replied, before dumping said pack into your cart. He laughed as Luke added two more packs of cookies— the chewy and regular Chips Ahoy, before sliding beside you, laying a pack on your forehead, and then following Quinn as he walked into the next aisle in search of their middle brother. 

When you followed them, however, literally only seconds later, you were met with an unexpected sight. As you steered your cart, you stopped midway, because there, in the middle of the drink section of a Target in the middle of nowhere New Jersey, stood all three Hughes brothers, with Nerf Guns pointed at each other, resembling that Spider-Man meme where they all stood in a triangle, pointing at one another. 

Before you could ask what the hell was going on, they fired— Jack ducking before Luke’s bullet could hit him, but hitting Quinn square in the chest as Luke ran to get behind you, using you as a human shield. After no more shots were fired however, they all stopped where they were, stood up, and continued to act as if nothing had happened. Jack loaded up the two pack of sodas and drinks, Quinn kept walking into the neighboring aisles, and Luke tapped away on his phone, all acting as if they hadn’t just had a full-on Nerf war right in front of you, and as if your boyfriend hadn’t been using you as a human shield from it. God, you were way too old for this, you thought, before sucking it up and laughing to yourself as you traversed the next aisles. 

By the time you were checking out of the Target, your bags were packed to the brim with overly-sugary snacks; ranging from the aforementioned cookies, (which Jack refused to even touch because of the vendetta he had against anything peanut butter related, apparently,) to three separate bags of Lime flavored chips that ranged from the original version, to kettle cooked and rice chips, and the three cases of Mountain Dew, Smirnoff Ice, and Vitamin Water— God, these boys bought snacks as if your house was entirely bare, instead of full of perfectly good food. Regardless, however, you watched as they all worked in tandem to scan, bag, and then push the cart back to your car, load everything up in a swift manner, and even get in the car with no complaints. As weird as the Hughes brothers were, they sure knew how to work as a team— to ensure that no single brother carried the load of the work, but instead simply work in what you could only describe as harmony. Each completing their portion fo the task, and doing so without even having to ask; a well-oiled machine you knew was built from their childhoods, and from the years and years of hockey camps, or cheering the others on, and of simply being brothers.

Luke was the beginner of the group; he’d start the task, fall into his role, and wait for the other two to join him. Jack would follow— would see what Luke needed and do whatever he could to ease it, or to make it go faster; to be more efficient. And then Quinn, as older brother, would ensure that the other two were taken care of, before putting himself at the end— tying up their loose ends, making sure what was being done was done in a correct manner, and closing it off. A perfectly coordinated team. 

It wasn’t until the four of you got back to your shared home with Luke that all hell seemed to break loose once again. While the car ride back had been relatively tame, you driving because you had decided you were the only one who didn’t love hitting every single curb, and didn’t break like a semi-truck had rolled over right in front of you, Luke had sat in the passenger seat, connecting his phone to the aux and playing the signature Hughes Brothers Playlist— a playlist that seemed to disobey every single law of organization to have ever existed, as it would switch from some country song he liked at the moment, to LMFAO and Lil Jon’s “SHOTS,” until swiftly moving to Adele’s “Hello.” All three brothers sang to every single song, though. All without missing a single beat. 

Odd music choices aside, however, when the four of you ended up back at your house, you could hear the three of them yelling and moving around downstairs as you got ready for bed, before tapering off into the sounds of what was unmistakably Call of Duty. Before you went to bed, though, you made your way out of you and Luke’s shared bedroom, standing at the top of the staircase and looking down into the living room. You knew these sleepovers were sacred to them, and you wanted to give all three of them space— you knew, and could see, how much they cared for each other, and at times, these were the only opportunities they had to spend time together during the season, so you opted to spend time with yourself instead— even if that included letting them make a mess out of your living room.

Seemingly in the span of less than five minutes, all three boys had managed to not only push your sectional sofa to the wall, but also bring out all six dining chairs out, and set up the three pairs of sheets you had in the linen closet diagonally— laying them atop of the backs of the chairs, and adding support to their makeshift fort with the otterman, and the two kitchen bar stools. In the middle, however, you could see the three of them sitting side-by-side, all with a controller in their hands, and all trying to beat whatever game they had on— cheering on Quinn and he managed to take down their opponent, and then egging on Jack as he seemingly lost. 

As you made your way back to your room, however, the board under your foot creaked, and Luke’s head shot up to look at you— giving you a smile and you looked back down at him. “Going to sleep already, honey?” he asked, still looking up, and ignoring the looks that his brothers shared over his head. 

The other two Hughes brothers adored you— although they were a bit apprehensive when Luke first brought you home, only a few weeks after he left Michigan, you had grown to be apart of the family, and they saw you as the little sister, (and nuisance,) that was perfect for their little brother, especially when you joined Luke in egging them on as to why neither elder brother had bothered to find themselves someone yet. 

“Yeah, bub. Gonna head to bed. Remember boys, the blankets are in the hallway closet! And your toothbrushes are in the guestroom bath! Goodnight boys!” you said, yelling the last part a bit louder. You were met with a chorus of “Goodnight Y/N!” and “Thank you!” before the sounds of the three arguing won over the game once again, and you retreated back into your bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Later, however, you were woken up by a sweltering heat. You didn’t remember it being so hot when you went to bed, and when you got up to move, you felt the arms wrapped around you— Luke, you thought. He only pulled you to him tighter, and when you turned to meet his face, you whispered his name quietly. 

“Luke, sweetheart,” you said, trying to get his attention, and asking why he was with you instead of his brothers. The only response you got from him, however, was a “Hmm?”

“Why are you in bed with me?” you asked quietly, trying to keep your voice down. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled back, his eyes still closed. While that didn’t answer your question in the slightest, the next voice that popped up did. 

“Can you guys shut up and stop being so coupley? Some of us are trying to sleep here,” he said from beside Luke, and before you could even ask as to why the hell he was in your bed to begin with, you heard Quinn’s voice next— “Lu dragged us in here. Said he didn’t wanna sleep without you” he yawned. 

You only stayed quiet, laughing at the situation. Here you were, encompassed by your boyfriend, while his two older brothers were laying on the other side of him, all because they wanted to sleep over with him, and all because he didn’t want to sleep without you. These Hughes Brothers Sleepovers sure were something, you thought, before joining the other three and falling back asleep.

[elliesonlyhoe]

Loser!ellie headcannons .ᐟ ⭐

A/N .ᐟ First set of hcs..😭 lmk if y'all want a pt. 2

Loser! Ellie who lowkey has a collection of plushies that all have names, ages, and probably birthdays (specifically dinosaur ones)

Loser! Ellie Who could not flirt for shit the first few months you guys were dating.. But you on the other hand? Always trying to mess with the poor girl until she's a flustered mess.

Loser! Ellie Who had been too much of a pussy to ask you out for the longest time, just for you to already know she liked you.

Loser! Ellie Who still can't look you in the eyes without getting nervous.

You were sitting in the living room beside Ellie talking to her about how one of your coworkers had pissed you off today while Ellie was looking anywhere but you. “Els? Are you listening?..” You said, tapping your preoccupied girlfriend on the shoulder in order to get her attention.

 “I- I am…” Ellie mumbled, still looking away, the tips of her ears a bright shade of scarlet. You looked at Ellie noticing what was going on, you chuckled to yourself quietly “That's unfortunate.. My own girlfriend, the love of my life, doesn't even want to look at me? How upsetting..” You tease, as Ellie turns to look over at you, her cheeks a bright shade of red “I never said that!” She replies quickly before looking away once again “You're just.. so fuckin’ perfect..” Her own words cause her to be even more embarrassed prior to how much she was before. You try to hold in your giggles as you pull your girlfriend closer to you “I love you s'much, you know that?” you say in between your uncontrollable giggles “ I love you too..” she mutters back “And don't be a dick. Stop fuckin’ laughing at me” She adds before resting her head on your shoulder. You continue to giggle, which makes Ellie start giggling too. 

After a few moments of you two continuously laughing your asses off, you pressed a soft kiss on Ellies forehead. “Now, Tell me about your day, love.” You smile as Ellie begins to give you a rundown about everything she had done that day.

Loser! Ellie who has a separate sketchbook to fill with small doodles of dinosaurs, planets, and occasionally drawings of you.

Loser! Ellie who never fucking sleeps, like this girl will be up til’ late at night doing lord knows what.

Loser! Ellie who hates when you beat her at any game, girl will start making up the most random excuses as to why she lost, sometimes if you tease her about losing she even goes to the extent of giving you the silent treatment

Loser! Ellie who loves spooning (defo calls big spoon before you guys are even ready to head to bed, yet still ends up being little spoon sometimes.)

Loser! Ellie who acts like it's the end of the world when she accidentally interrupts you while you're speaking. Like I'm talking non-stop apologizing and always arguing with you on whether she should continue what she was saying or if you should finish speaking (you always find a way to win the argument nonetheless)

Loser! Ellie who has the humor of a middle school boy.

Loser! Ellie who probably eats lunchables 4/7 days of the week.

“Els, there's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry!” you callout before walking into the kitchen to see your girlfriend standing there like she got caught red handed, holding a half eaten pizza lunchable in her hand

“I'm not even surprised.” You say arms crossed, shaking your head slightly  

“What?! They're good!” Your girlfriend argues back, taking another bite of her mini pizza 

“Okay Els.” you chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully

“Hey! Don't roll your eyes at me..” Ellie scoffs “Don't knock it til' you try it.”

Loser! Ellie who has a backpack filled with space and dinosaur themed pins (also probably pins with corny ass memes on them.)

Loser! Ellie who either can't accept a compliment, or gets abnormally flustered by your compliments. (It all depends on the day tbh😭🙏)

Loser! Ellie who ADORES taking walks with you near lakes, creeks, and ponds. 

A/N .ᐟ I love Loser!ellie so much omdysss🙏❤

[nyxoz]

I was thinking for a part 2 to the modern day Eddie x reader sexting could be she goes and hangs out with Jackson and Eddie starts sexting her knowing she's over there 👀

thank you so for your request!!! im so mind blown by the love for this fic. i hope you enjoy this part two.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal fingering, P in V sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Best Friends to Lovers, Modern AU, Sexting, Swearing, Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex.

*

Part One

*

Eddie has been avoiding you. 

Well, at least you think he has. He hasn’t contacted you since he said goodbye the night he made you come so hard on your couch you had to lay against him to catch your breath. 

You haven’t texted or called him either but that’s not the point. He initiated it. Shouldn’t he be the one to call you? 

It’s been three days since that night, which isn’t super long but you and Eddie haven’t gone a day without talking to each other for god knows how long. It’s weird, him not being in your life. Not texting him something stupid or sending him a meme or TikTok you saw. You miss him. But you’re mad at him. 

You’re not mad about what happened. You’re mad about how he’s acting (or not acting.). You didn’t expect him to suddenly be your boyfriend or anything, but he could at least fucking text you. 

It’s Monday night when you decide to head to Benny's diner alone for dinner. 

As you enter the mostly empty diner you see none other than Jackson, sitting alone at a booth lining the window. His head pops up as the bell rings on the door and he’s smiling as he recognises you. 

You subtly sigh and smile at him. 

“Hey.” He says. 

You walk over to where he’s seated, “Hey, Jackson.” 

He looks around you like he’s expecting to see someone. 

“You eating alone?” 

You nod. 

“I’d expected Munson to be following behind you like a lost little puppy.” He laughs at his joke. You don’t laugh and he notices calming down his chuckle, “I was just kidding.” He tries to save face.  

There’s an awkward silence before he clears his throat. 

“How about you take a seat? I’ll buy you dinner.” He asks. 

You look at the empty seat across from him and then back at his smiling face. You decide, fuck it, why not? You get a free meal out of it and some okay company. 

“Suuure, but I want a milkshake too.” You bargain as you slide into the booth. 

He laughs a little, his teeth blindingly white and in full view. “Sure thing, darlin’.” 

He keeps smiling at you as you grab at the menu his fingers are fiddling with on the table. Your eyes wander over the page, trying to choose when he starts up that awkward conversation. 

“So, Friday night was, like, good.” He says. 

You snort, eyes still on the menu. “Good?” 

“Hot.” He corrects, “like so hot.” 

You finally look up at him after deciding what you want. “I’m glad.” 

He laughs, “You’re hard to read.” 

Raising a brow and tapping your fingers against the table you smirk slightly. “Am I?” 

Jackson leans back further against the booth and runs his hands through his hair. “Yeah, you really are.” 

“Alrighty! What can I get you two tonight?” A waitress interrupts your conversation. 

You look up at her and see her name tag reads Joan. You and Jackson give your orders to Joan and she grabs your menu before walking back to the counter. 

As Jackson asks how your weekend is going, headlights shine into the window as a car parks in front of the diner. You automatically turn to look at the light and as the headlights turn off you see a very familiar green van. Eddie. Of course, he’s here. 

You turn back to Jackson and pretend you’re listening to some fishing story he’s telling as you hear the bells of the front door jingle as Eddie enters. You don’t look up at the sound and keep staring head-on at Jackson. 

He says something that makes himself laugh and you don’t know quite what it was but you decide to laugh loud and reach a hand forward to touch his arm that’s resting on the tabletop. Eddie walks past just as you do and you can’t help but flick your eyes up at him. He looks at you and then down to where you’re touching Jackson. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s sitting in the booth right behind Jackson, staring directly at you. 

Jackson doesn’t seem to notice that Eddie is here, too caught up in your touch and laugh. 

“Yeah, so funny right!” He laughs with you. 

“Totally.” You smile, staring just past his shoulder into the brown eyes that are staring directly into yours. 

Eddie is smirking very subtly at you before he drops his eyes down to the menu. 

The next twenty minutes seem to go by uneventfully. You flirt shamelessly with Jackson, but manage to avoid looking at Eddie the entire time. Your food comes out and after you both finish, you decide to split the promised milkshake. 

“I gotta say, I’m more of a strawberry milkshake man myself.” Jackson says and you put two straws into the shake. 

“People are biased towards vanilla because they think it’s basic, but it’s not! It’s original and iconic. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla.” You smile at him. 

You drop a finger in the whipped cream and bring it up to your mouth, sucking the sweetness off your finger. Your eyes meet with Eddie’s over Jackson’s shoulder. 

His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide taking up the chocolate brown you love so much. He’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you intently. 

Your eyes flicker back to Jackson and he’s smiling at you softly, a sheepish look on his face. He leans down and takes a sip of the milkshake and groans as he does. 

“Okay, you’re right. This is good.” 

“See! Nothing wrong with vanilla.” You repeat before taking a sip yourself. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you fish it out as Jackson takes another sip. 

Eddie 7:37pm: do that again. 

Your eyes flicker up to Eddie and he’s staring at you. You stare back for a few seconds before you look down at your phone and type out a response. 

You 7:37pm: Who’s this? 

You can be petty. 

He responds immediately. 

Eddie 7:37pm: bet it doesn’t taste as sweet as you did. 

Your cheeks warm at the thought of him licking your arousal off his own fingers and you keep your eyes down on your phone. 

You can’t think of a witty reply. So you lock your phone and keep it face up in your lap, before turning back to Jackson. 

“See any good movies lately?” You ask lamely, trying to keep the conversation flowing but too preoccupied by Eddie. 

Your phone buzzes again and you ignore it. 

“Movies?” Jackson chuckles, “Uh not really. I’ve been focusing on fixing up my truck, honestly.” 

“Oh really?” You fake interest with a smile. 

Your phone buzzes a second time and your eyes can’t help but flicker down. 

Eddie 7:38pm: have you been thinking about me? 

Eddie 7:39pm: thinking about my fingers fucking you? 

You close your eyes to compose yourself as you look back up at Jackson. He’s too interested in talking about his truck to notice you’re not paying him any attention. 

Looking down at your lap you read the flood of texts you just received. 

Eddie 7:40pm: I’ve been thinking about you.

Eddie 7:40pm: thinking about how you taste. 

Eddie 7:40pm: how you felt when you came on my fingers. 

Eddie 7:40pm: I know you’d feel fucking unbelievable coming on my cock. 

The last message has you squeezing your thighs together. The thought of Eddie’s cock inside you has been on your mind for the past three days. You’ve touched yourself thinking about it, imagining him taking you against your soft sheets, or in his trailer, van, anywhere really. 

“What’re you think?” Jackson asks. 

You look up fast and blink a few times. 

“About what colour to paint my truck? Red or black?” He clarifies. 

“Oh, uh, red?” 

“Yeah, I’m thinking that too!” He keeps rambling about the truck tyres or engine, you’re not really sure.

Eddie 7:42pm: would you let me finish inside you? I know you’re on the pill. 

Eddie 7:42pm: wanna fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you

That’s the nail in the coffin of your patience. You clear your throat and interrupt Jackson. 

“Umm, this has been fun or whatever but I actually have to go.” You say standing up. Your eyes look over quickly at Eddie who is watching you as he eats a few fries. 

“Oh? I thought we could maybe go back to mine or something.” He smiles up at you hopefully. 

You frown apologetically, “Sorry. I’ll see you later?” 

He nods, but his expression shows a tad bit of frustration like his night has now been wasted playing nice with you when he couldn’t get anything out of it. 

You ignore him and turn to walk towards the bathroom. You pass the counter, and smile at Joan as you go, pushing open the bathroom door and turning into the ladies’ room. 

As you enter the end cubicle, you pull out your phone and sit on the closed toilet, going to scroll through Eddie’s messages again. You read each one, feeling your skin warm and your stomach tighten in arousal. 

You can’t believe him. After no contact for three days, this is what you get? 

The door to the bathroom opens and shuts with a thud. You can hear heavy footsteps walking along the tiled floor, they get louder as they grow closer. You look underneath the cubicle door, seeing familiar dirty converse standing directly in front of it.

Knuckles rap against the wood in a rhythmic fashion. 

“Y/N…” Eddie drags out your name. 

You stay silent and watch his feet. 

“Little pig! Little pig! Let me in.” He sings, a soft chuckle following it. 

You stand up, your clothes rustling and echoing in the quiet bathroom. You step forward, reaching for the lock and turning it slowly. Pulling your hand back, the door opens with a creek, Eddie coming into view inch by inch. 

He stands there, looking good enough to eat. He’s wearing his usual leather jacket over a black Judas Priest shirt. His black jeans are ripped at the knees. 

He smiles brightly at you, creases forming around his mouth and his brown eyes narrowing. 

You’re both quiet for a minute, staring at each other. You feel his eyes roaming your body, goosebumps rising on your skin under his gaze. 

“Hey.” He says taking a step into the cubicle. 

You give him a look of disbelief. After three days that’s all he’s got to say to you. 

You push at his chest, “Asshole!”

He sways a little but stands tall. 

You push at him again and he grabs at your wrists as they land on his chest. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

“You fucking just ghosted me!” 

You struggle against his hold but give up after he shows no sign of letting go. 

“I know.” 

“Why?” You ask defeated. 

He brings your hands up to his face and presses kisses on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.” He whispers against the skin, “I got scared, I don’t know, I just freaked out.” 

“Why, though?” 

He lowers your hands so you’re holding each other down near your waists. 

“I thought maybe you didn’t want me that way.” 

You scoff, “I literally orgasmed. I wanted it!”

“Yeah, I realise that now. I thought it through.” 

“You’re still an asshole.” You smirk. 

He grins back and begins slowly stepping forward, pushing you further back into the cubicle. He lets go of your hand to reach behind him and push the door closed, twisting the lock in place.

He stands in front of you and you take one step back, your thighs hitting the edge of the toilet. 

“Maybe I can make it up to you?” He asks, titling his head slightly. 

“Maybe.” 

He crowds against you, grabbing at your waist and moving you against the wall. His face hovers above you, half an inch away, his deep chocolate eyes flickering over your face. 

“Or maybe,” you start, “maybe I can catch up with Jackson.” It’s an empty threat but Eddie’s brows frown at the thought. 

“No.” He says. His right hand comes up to grab at your chin, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip a little. “You’re mine.” 

“Yours?” You whisper. 

His thumb presses harder against your lip, pushing upwards and sliding into your mouth. 

You drop your jaw, opening your mouth a little wider. Your tongue flattens out for him to glide his thumb along it. 

“All mine.” He murmurs. 

You suck on his thumb, pressing your tongue up against it and hollowing your cheeks. 

“Fuck.” He sighs, eyes transfixed on your mouth. 

Slowly, you draw your head back, pulling your mouth off him, the squelch of the suction breaking is loud in the space between you both. 

He licks at his lips as he watches the spit glistening on his thumb. 

“Did you like my texts?” He asks. 

Your head drops back further to thud against the wall, your hair scratches against you as you nod slowly. 

“What do you think, hmm?” His hand comes up to your hair line, pushing the strands back in soft strokes. “Would you let me come inside you?” 

Your heart jumps at the question. Swallowing down the spit pooling in your mouth, you nod again. 

“Gimme your words, baby.” He says. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

You huff a little, “Yes, I want you to come inside me.” 

His free hand splays against your stomach, inching down to the waistline of your jeans. His skilled fingers pop your button open and push down your zipper, the pads of his fingers landing on the soft cotton of your panties. 

Slowly but surely, he works his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, trailing down the top of your cunt and pressing his middle finger in between your slit. 

You gasp as his finger circles your clit. 

He smiles at your intake of breath and slides another finger alongside the first, gliding them between your folds and lapping up your arousal. 

He circles your entrance, before pushing two fingers in. 

You squeak as he curls his fingers up, searching for the rough spot inside you that makes you clench around him. You moan out as he continues thrusting his fingers into you. 

“Eddie.” 

He leans his forehead against yours and keeps fingering you. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Don’t want your fingers.” 

He smiles and kisses your cheek, “No?” 

You shake your head. 

“What do you want?” 

His fingers come up to rub your clit some more and you cry out. 

“I want...” you trail off as he continues to toy with you. 

“Yes?” He asks with a smile, nosing at your cheekbone. 

“I want your cock.” 

He laughs and his warm breath hits your face. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

He pulls his hand out from your underwear, his other hand coming down to your jeans and pushing them down your legs, along with your underwear. You toe off your shoes and slide your jeans and panties off, leaving them on the floor next to the toilet. 

You reach forward and grab at Eddie’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing his pants and boxers down over cock. It springs free, hitting his black tee and leaving a spot of precum. 

You go to grab at his cock but he grabs at your hand to stop you. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, “I wanna…” he looks over your face and then reaches up to take it in his hands, “I wanna kiss you.” 

He holds your face so softly in his calloused hands. 

You realise, in both these times you’ve been together, you’ve never kissed each other. You’ve never had your lips pressed against his or your tongue in his mouth. 

It was a line you both unknowable hadn’t tried to cross. Touching each other was one thing, but kissing felt more personal. Like it could break your friendship if it went wrong. 

You look down at his pink lips, wanting nothing more than to touch them with your own. 

“Kiss me then.” You whisper. 

He takes no time rushing forward and pressing his lips on yours. You inhale against him, breathing him in. 

His tongue licks into your mouth, massaging with yours. Your nose rubs against his cheek as you push further against him, wanting to get as close as possible. 

Eddie’s hand comes down to grab your left leg, his arm coming up underneath it to hold it up. He pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down in between you. You both catch your breath and stare down as his other hand reaches for his cock and guides it towards you. 

The head of his cock brushes against your folds, lapping your juices. Eddie’s head drops back and he groans out lowley. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

He lines up at your entrance and looks up at you quickly, watching your reaction as he slides into you. His arm holding your leg up tenses as your heat surrounds him. 

Your mouth drops open and your eyes squeeze shut as he pushes all the way in. Your breathing gets heavier as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with yours. 

Eddie leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling out slowly and pushing back in. He keeps a steady slow pace, his free hand holding your hip. 

Your leg aches from the stretch of being held up but it’s all forgotten when he starts moving faster. The echo of skin slapping each other can be heard throughout the bathroom, accompanied by your heavy breathing. 

He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your crotch, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips. 

You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Eddie.” 

You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release. 

He smiles at you and presses kisses along your jawline. 

A thud of a door can be heard in the distance and Eddie’s hips stop their movements, as he listens out for more noise. 

The door to the ladies’ bathroom opens and closes and someone walks in and enters the cubicle next to yours. The side of Eddie’s face is pressed against the side of yours, his mouth hovering over your ear. 

“Better keep quiet. Don’t wanna get caught, do ya, baby?” He whispers. 

His fingers start playing with your clit again, but his hips stay still, keeping his cock deep inside you. 

You bite your lip to prevent a moan as he keeps toying relentlessly with your swollen nub. 

You can hear the rustling in the next stall and the toilet flushes. The person very slowly makes their way out to wash their hands and it feels like forever until they finally leave the bathroom. 

You release a loud breath as the door shuts. 

“Oh my god.” 

Eddie laughs and brings a hand up to hold your hip as he starts fucking back into you. 

He continues pounding into you, his lips pressing all over your face and then landing on your lips. He licks filthily into your mouth, groaning at the taste of you. 

He pulls back slightly, breathing against your mouth. His hips show no sign of slowing down as his hand comes back down to your clit. 

“Gonna fill you up.” He says. 

You nod at his statement, your noses brushing each other. “I want it.” 

His fingers on your clit start rubbing fast and furious, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm. 

Your walls tighten around him and he hisses. 

The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over. You moan out into his mouth and he breathes it in. 

“Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming.” You cry. 

His hips fuck you through your orgasm and he comes undone just after you. 

His come paints your insides, filling you to the brim. He moans out your name, breathing heavy against you. He keeps moving slowly inside you, milking himself dry before slumping against you, his face hiding in your neck. 

Your hand comes up to cup his head as you both try to catch your breath. 

He gently pulls out of you and you feel his come dripping out of your hole. You grimace at the loss. 

He lets down your leg, very slowly and you feel the soreness in your thigh radiate down your leg. 

You lean against the wall and watch as he pulls his jeans up. He reaches down and grabs your jeans and panties, handing them to you. 

As you slide your pants back on he kisses at your neck and face and you laugh as you awkwardly hop into your clothes. 

“Eddie.” You giggle. 

He laughs too and holds your hips. He tilts his head as he looks down at you and reaches one of his hands up to push your hair from your face. 

“You’re beautiful.” He says it almost accidentally, like he can’t keep the words from spilling out. 

You smile up at him. “So are you.” 

That makes him smile bright, his eyes creasing at the edges. 

You stand there with no shoes on in Benny’s diner’s bathroom and stare up at your best friend. 

“Back to yours?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Okay.” He says before he kisses your forehead. 

[urkelnomics]

Homelander is so funny to me, cause I saw so many sigma grindset patrick-bateman style edits of him saying dramatic stuff to phonk music, and I thought, "oh this guy must be a completely fucking terrifying villain, he must have more power than the sun or some shit" And he is and he does,,, but those edits did not at all prepare me for watching the show. He is a fucking loser. he has an oedipus complex, he is obsessed with drinking breast milk, he spent a scene scrolling through a compilation of memes about himself, while clenching his fist and whimpering, he's shorter than the normal guy protagonist, he elects himself head of Vought and then gets scared because he doesn't understand a single thing being said at a board meeting, for the first season his arch-nemesis is a fucking baby. And somehow, this guy has tapped into the manosphere gym-bro community, and become the pretty princess poor little meow meow for the tumblrinas, all while being an absolute fucking loser

[meowkn]

SOOOO LEME GET A… nanami with a bimbo/airhead house wife preferably with an age gap!!! maybe like how they met, their dynamic, or even students reactions to seeing her(like he forgot his lunch and she brings it in typa situation)

thx ani toodles🐞

Nanami x Bimbo!reader Hcs

Nanami wasn’t really interested in dating, until he met you, he was at his usual coffee spot, getting a black coffee before his long day at work. When your manicured little finger tapped on the back of his shoulder and you fluttered your eyelashes at him, something in his chemistry changed. You asked him a stupid little question about the difference between a latte and a macchiato and he was late to work taking the time to explain it to you.

─.ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ

- Nanami will literally bend over backwards to meet your every need and is obviously extremely overly protective around you since you can tend to be a little airheaded, even when doing the most simple tasks.

- You were banned from cooking alone after you got distracted on the phone with your friends when you were cooking him breakfast in bed, trying to surprise him but ended up with him nearly having a heart attack.

- Nanami buys you WHATEVER you want, he complains about how many times you buy clothes a week but he loves seeing you try on those mini skirts.

- He loves to do your makeup, absolutely loves it. He loves to hold your head in his hand while he applies your mascara or lip gloss.

- You taught him how to use social media, such as instagram, but all he posts are pictures of you or those facebook working man memes.

- “Wear whatever you want, I can fight.”

- He loves you dearly and sometimes gets frustrated when he has to reexplain something to you multiple times, but he always will, being as patient as possible. He loves the look on your face when the little light bulb goes off in your head.

- Nanami never announced to anyone that he was dating, let alone married, so when he showed up to work one day with a pretty little wedding band on his finger everyone was shocked.

- One day you noticed that Nanami forgot his lunch at home so you, decided to surprise him and bring it to him. You walked into his office and handed his lunch, he was surprised to see you there, you usually didn’t pay much attention when he was talking about work. Most of his coworkers thought you were confused on who you were and why such a vibrant young woman was talking to Nanami of all people, but that all changed when you kissed him on his cheek and they saw the matching wedding ring.

- That kiss on the cheek left a lipstick stain, one that he did not wipe off the whole day.

- Doesn’t understand your humor most of the time but he thinks your laughing is adorable so he’ll just laugh along with you.

- Absolutely does not want you to life a single finger, he feels like his job is to take care of you. You want something? he’ll buy it for you. You want to rearrange furniture? He’ll do it for you. You need to being in your shopping bags? Put them down, he’ll do it for you. He one time scolded you for bringing in the groceries and said “Honey, what if you break a nail? We can’t have that happening now.”

- No job for you! Enjoy your lavish stay at home life!!

- Shamelessly has you sit on his lap while he works for home, especially in those mini skirts you like so much.

- Learned your haircare routine and how to take care of your hair just so he could wash your hair for you whenever your feeling too tired, but also because he loves the feeling of your hair on his hands

[littledreamling]

Whatever you do, don’t imagine Dream wearing earbuds/headphones for the first time and silently losing his mind because he LOVES music and suddenly it can be… in his head?? as loud as he wants??? and Hob has to explain music streaming services but loans Dream his phone so he can listen to music while he’s staying at Hob’s flat for the night

and then, once you haven’t imagined that, don’t imagine Hob waking up in the middle of the night alone (he definitely wasn’t alone when he fell asleep) and wandering out into his living room to find Dream laying on the couch with his eyes closed and the headphones on and so of course Hob is curious what Dream of the Endless, Lord of Dreams and Nightmares would listen to so he taps the screen to look at the song and it’s the weirdest shit (I’m thinking Gregorian chants, because Dream was seen as a god once and sometimes misses the sound of prayer, but it could also be some meme song like Cbat because Dream is a weird motherfucker) and Hob just wordlessly goes back to bed because the reality of the situation is just too much for him

[cyborg-franky]

Comforting their partner

I think I needed this myself, who knows.

MODERN AU - SFW Ace x GN Reader Marco x GN Reader Rosi/Corazon x GN Reader

Ace

You’d been exchanging texts with Ace all day, and he knew you weren’t in a good place—stressed, tired, and burnt out. He spent most of his day sending you pictures of Stefan, his father's dog, and a large selection of dumb selfies and memes he’d collected.

It made you smile, made everything just a little less heavy to know he was right there for you even if you couldn't see him. You were so swamped with your chores and work that free time slipped through your fingers, leaving you further fatigued. 

You lay in bed, staring at your TV, feeling so sorry for yourself. Things just kept piling up, and you were about to burst from how much you stuffed down and pushed aside. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You bit your lip, not wanting to just burst into tears. You looked at your phone and saw nothing. Ace hadn’t replied in over ten minutes.

Maybe he’d finally passed out or was playing another game with his brothers.

You could feel the sadness creeping in until there was a tapping on your window. You opened your eyes and stared at your curtains. The same tapping happened again, and you sat up, pulling them open and almost jumping. 

Ace was outside your window, having climbed the tree. He was waving with a huge grin on his face.

“The fuck, Ace?” you huffed at him when you opened the window, and he slid in, getting his foot stuck and falling onto the bed below with a laugh and looking up at you. “Well, sounded like you needed a shoulder to cry on,” he shrugged from where he was making himself comfortable on your bed, kicking off his boots. Both of you wincing when they thudded to the floor. 

You sighed, your anger melting away as he held his arms up. He made grabby hands as you slowly leaned in, letting Ace grab you and pull you down against him. He cuddled you up to his side, your head against his chest, and you heard the rumble of his voice and his heartbeat. You closed your eyes when you felt fingers running through your hair.

“You wanna talk about it some more?” he asked, and you shook your head, draping an arm over his waist and sighing, breathing in his smell. It was always comforting, like a warm fire on a cold night.

“Alright, wanna watch funny videos?” he suggested, and you nodded. He got comfy, arm around you, and phone in a position you could both watch. 

The night ended up in your boyfriend's arms, just the two of you, silly videos to entertain you and take you away from your troubled thoughts.

Marco

He’d been texting you when he got a spare moment at work and worried about how you felt. He felt bad he couldn’t duck out of work to come, scoop you up in his arms, and kiss the bad thoughts away.

But he listened to you, let you vent, and even gave advice when you asked for it.

Thanks to Marco, you were currently watching a comfort show, curled up on the sofa and cuddled up in blankets as you tried to let the show distract you enough. Every so often, you’d message him. He checked in on his breaks, and although Marco wasn’t here with you, you felt connected and cared for anyway. He spoke so soothingly and calmly, like a soft breeze.

It was evening by the time he came over, knocking on the door andamiling at you, his half-lidded eyes full of love as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Come on, let's go for a ride,” he said, his car still running on the drive. You could hear his music faintly from the open window.

“Okay, where?” you asked as you grabbed your phone and keys and locked up. “Just around.” 

The wind ran through your hair, his hand on your thigh, and you both listened to your music as you cruised through the peaceful evening. You were just happy in one another's company, letting the night and his comforting aura chase away the sadness. 

He knew how much you needed to get away from the noise of the world around you, driving a little ways from the city, where the stars twinkled in the sky brighter than you were used to.

You soon pulled up to a late-night food place. Marco killed the engine, the music shutting off as he nodded for you to get out. “Let's get something to eat, or at least a coffee, yoi.” Marco smiled at you before getting out of the car.

Sitting in a quiet corner of the cafe, you both shared a plate of fries, not feeling super hungry. You sipped your drink of choice as he drank his coffee.

“So, want to tell me about what happened today?” he asked, his hand reaching across the table to find yours. The weight of his larger hand on yours calmed your jumbled mind enough to pick through the mental clutter. “Well… so this happened today, and I just am struggling with it… It’s silly though.” You said with a dry chuckle, thinking he would judge you for how dumb it was, how it didn’t feel like a real problem.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand. “If it upset you, it’s not silly, okay?” You paused, thinking his words over, seeing the warmth of his smile. “Okay,” you nodded and talked it out with him.

Rosinante

He knew you’d had a rough time at work today; everything that could go wrong had. You were tired, exhausted, and struggling to deal with it. You messaged him on your lunch break, not wanting to vocalize what was wrong, just taking comfort in his messages.

All the heart emojis and silly selfies of him making a half-heart with his fingers, his big charming grin filling the screen as he beamed brightly. You sent one back, completing the heart he was sweet.

When you got home, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders, the bad feelings dragging you down, making your feet feel heavier. You opened the door and took a deep breath, trying to feel better about just being home and away from the job that stressed you out,

“Hey!” Rosi said, a smile on his handsome face as he stood up, towering over you. He pulled you into a hug, keeping you close and not letting go. He didn’t want to pull away first. He wanted to give you the hug you needed.

When you managed to fight the urge to cry, you peered up at him and got a kiss on the forehead.

“I have something to cheer you up…” He said with a wink. Pulling away, he nodded to the basket on the table.

You looked through it: comfort snacks you loved, a movie you wanted to see for ages, and other little bits and pieces that he knew you loved, including a plushie you held to your chest and smiled back at him. “Thank you so much, Rosi. I love you.” I love you too, and I hope it helps even a little!

You spent the evening cuddled on the sofa, happily eating your snacks, wrapped in a blanket, watching the movie he’d bought. Rosi gently rubbed your leg, trailing fingertips up and down your skin to keep you relaxed and calm.

He knew you’d talk about it when you were ready. He was never the type to push or ask, knowing that when you felt up to it, you’d talk it out with him, and when you were ready to share, he was ready to help you. He took your hand and brought it to his face, kissing your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Much better, thank you.”