#SHE"S HERE

[murcielagatito]

while 911 is blowing up rn here is hen shes a lesbian paramedic also she has a rocket scientist wife

[karamellukrem]

the sweat i broke into when i realized how old this girl was in 2013 (image id in alt)

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

[ryllen]

[ x . x . x ]

[satsuha]

🎉 happy anniversary 🐙Ⅱ!! 🍻

can't believe it's been a year already!! i love this game to bits

[crescentfool]

judgement day 🌕

[ozymandien]

later, ouyang thought esen wouldn't even had noticed: the moment his stillness of anticipation flicked into the stillness of shame, as quickly as capping a candle. his blood ran cold; his body burned. it was the feeling of a blade slid gently into his heart.

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

@hornyhornyhimbos

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

[honestlydarkprincess]

slowly getting sober from the taste of your skin

buck x eddie || rated: t || wc: 11.2k

Eddie didn’t do this.

He didn’t go to bars and get drunk and spill his heart to the bartender. He didn’t stare at his phone like a loser and swipe through pictures of him and godforsaken crush.

Except tonight, he did.

Or, the one where Eddie gets drunk and pines. Includes Maddie & Eddie friendship, lots of miscommunication, and a happy fluffy ending.

read on ao3

[ewaudreyhorne]

[lesbiamano]

i stand with my cringefail wife

[cohlumbo]

Gibson Girl, Rust Cohle (i)

🥃: HD link, (ii)

[twistcmyk]

[keldabekush]

Skimmer is the mom friend. He doesn’t even know

[creepswrites]

Billy loomis x reader where she’s a very introverted person and it kind of messes up his plans at the party that night everything went down

i tend to write billy a very specific way, which is why i haven't written very much for him, but i hope you enjoy this! he's very interesting to write for! mayb in the future i'll do a story and touch on his mind more, we'll see

BILLY LOOMIS with a F! S/O who is very introverted

“Dude, when’s she gettin’ outta here?” Stu whisper-yelled at Billy, jerking his thumb over in your direction. “We gotta get a move on and you said she’d be gone by now?”

“I know, I know,” Billy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew bringing you along to the party would make his plans with Stu far more complicated than necessary, but it would look bad showing up without you. He cared about you - shockingly, after all he wasn’t exactly fond of most people - and he didn’t want you getting roped into his shit.

He wanted you to go home with some group of girls who left earlier but you had been too terrified to ask them for a ride. So, there you sat in the kitchen, sipping on a vodka lemonade without a care in the world, blissfully oblivious to your boyfriend’s plot to murder.

Billy sighed, turning his head to look at Stu. The two were sat on a couch as Randy talked about some horror movie to the remain few guests. Of course, soon word would reach them about their dead principal and Billy had no doubt they’d take off to go see. This had all been planned meticulously for months in advance.

He knew it wasn’t your fault for screwing it up. You didn’t know, that was the whole point. Problem was how to get you out. “Is Tatum still… around?” Billy asked Stu with a hard look.

Stu blinked once. Twice. “Dude I told you, I didn’t want anything happenin’ to her.” His voice was low. “If you want her gone, dude, that’s on y-“

“No, no, I mean,” Billy huffed, “if she’s still here, maybe she can take my girl home. Two birds, one stone, ya feel?”

Realization dawned on Stu’s face. “Oh, yeah, I getcha! I’ll go find her.” He stood with a dramatic flair, attracting Randy’s attention. “I’ll be right back~” He said, walking backwards towards the stairs, earning laughs from the people around the couch.

Billy just smirked to himself and focused on his red solo cup. Coca Cola wasn’t his favorite but he needed to blend in. As he took a drink, you slipped into Stu’s place. Dark eyes followed your movement as you snuggled closer. “You okay?” He asked softly.

Now, very few people knew Billy beneath his surface level. His real thoughts and feelings. Stu knew more than most people but no one had ever seen him completely. It made him feel safer. Like his disguise was working. Dating Sydney had been a welcome distraction, another piece of his plan perfectly in place. So her dumping him hadn’t been expected.

Finding you wasn’t either. But he was attracted to something about you. Something in his gut that told him he might be able to trust you with his darkness. Let you in on his and Stu’s work one day, when you could all look back on tonight as just a faint memory.

Not now though. Right now, he needed to protect you.

While he’d planned on killing Tatum for a nice, clean finish, Stu had been resistant to the idea. Your very presence may have just spared her from any involvement. Stu liked her and didn’t want to hurt her but, unlike Billy, he was aware he might have to cut his losses.

Your introverted nature may have given Tatum a chance to walk away.

“You okay, doll?” Billy asked you softly, curling an arm around your shoulder.

You slid more into his side, scrunching your face up slightly. “I’m… not a big party person.”

He chuckled, a warm sound he had practiced. “I know. It’s why I’m glad you came with me. I- I know its really outta your comfort zone, but I appreciate you coming with me.” Billy kissed the top of your head, resting his chin there. “Next date, you can pick.”

A soft giggle from you made him smirk. “Is this a date?” You teased, tracing odd patterns on his jeans. “Odd date for an odd guy, hm?”

Oh, if only you knew.

Stu smacked his hands down on the back of the leather couch, making you jump and making Billy shoot him an annoyed look. “Hey, uh, Billy?” Stu bit at his lip nervously, Tatum looking clearly worried over his shoulder. "Sydney's upstairs getting sick in the bathroom."

Billy frowned, scanning Stu's face and noting the ghost of a smile there. While he'd broken up with Sydney weeks ago, they still needed her for the final act. So they'd slipped her something that'd make her throw up but not do any real damage to her. A last minute adjustment to the plan but, sometimes, Stu had good ideas.

Quickly, Billy put on a face of alarm. "Oh shit, did something happen?

Stu shrugged. "Hard to say. Think she might need some help."

Tatum gagged lightly. "I love Syd, but no way. That's gross. I just wanna go home."

"Aww, not stayin' the night?" Stu teased, wrapping an arm around her waist. He kissed her temple as she looked at you.

You and Tatum got along fairly well. Being girlfriends of two best friends meant you two would have an easier time getting along versus hating each other. Besides, Tatum knew it wasn't your fault Syd was paranoid and broke up with Billy.

"Would you mind driving her home for me, Tatum?" Billy asked softly, brushing hair back behind your ear. "I should make sure Syd gets home alright and I don't wanna leave you here alone." Billy kissed your forehead softly.

You frowned slightly. "Are you sure? I don't mind helping."

Billy smiled at you, his perfectly practiced smile reassuring you. "I'm sure. I was gonna leave anyways. How 'bout I head over to your place after I help out Syd?" He asked, a smirk growing on his face.

You blushed as Stu giggled obnoxiously, him and Tatum gagging over the two of you. As if they weren't the king and queen of disgusting couples things.

Tatum took your arm and dragged you off the couch and towards the door. "You better make sure Syd gets home safe." She pointed a delicately painted nail at Billy and Stu.

Billy held up his hands placatingly. "So long as you get my girl home safe. Deal?"

Stu laughed and Tatum rolled her eyes, hooking elbows with you as the two of you marched out of the house. You liked Tatum, since she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and always defended you. She, of course, made sure you got home safe and sound. When you'd finally gotten home, you took a quick shower, changed into pajamas, and fell into bed.

You didn't even notice you'd fallen asleep until you woke up to the sun's harsh rays beaming down on your eyes from your bedroom window. A pang of concern came over you when you realized Billy hadn't come over.

Quietly, you padded down the stairs and saw your mother and father's eyes glued to the television. It looked like whatever had their attention had interrupted your dad heading to work and your mom from cooking breakfast. As you stepped closer to ask what was wrong, you heard the newscaster's voice.

"...police confirmed the killer to be Neil Prescott who broke into the house and killed five people - including his daughter Sydney - and then himself. The only two survivors were Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, whom authorities say are currently hospitalized due to injuries."

You stopped listening, adrenaline coursing through you and your heart pounded as you stared at the screen. Oh god, Sydney's dad killed all those people? His own daughter? You bolted for the door, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas as you made your way to your car. The hospital would no doubt be open, you thought as you backed out of the driveway.

All you could think of was that you needed to see if Billy was okay.

[sojutrait]

my potential horse ranch baby grill