#anyway. i have to wonder about the bob of it all

[hawkinslibrary]

there's a new article out about the play. i think it's paywalled for people outside of the us, so here's a twitter thread with screenshots. i've also typed it all out under the cut here:

LONDON – Next month, the Upside Down extends its tentacles into London’s West End with “Stranger Things: The First Shadow,” a prequel stage production that expands the world of Netflix’s sci-fi/horror blockbuster. 

And the creative team behind it hopes the play will be as groundbreaking as the series itself.  

“We’re about to bring the actors, who’ve just been in this cocoon of a rehearsal room for seven weeks, into [the theater],” producer Sonia Friedman says of “The First Shadow,” which is set to open Noc. 17 at the Phoenix Theatre. “We’ve been making sure it can stand alone without the special effects, because it’s all about story. We are going to blow people’s minds. We are going to terrify with some of the most startling, extraordinary things with the physical production.” 

The project originated with director Stephen Daldry, who approached Netflix’s then-content chief Cindy Holland after the show’s first season aired.  

“One of the conversations Stephen and I had been having was, ‘What theater have we ever seen where you get genuinely scared?’” Daldry’s co-director Justin Martin says. “It was an interesting challenge and provocation. We talked about other [Netflix] titles, but this one felt like the most imaginative and the most challenging to try and find a stage language for.” 

“The goal was to figure out, what does a mega episode of ‘Stranger Things’ look like on stage?” adds Matt Duffer, who created the series with brother Ross. “It was a very long, multi-year process to figure that out. But where they’ve landed is incredibly exciting.” 

For the Duffers, the idea of expanding the “Stranger Things” universe in new forms was an exciting prospect. They're currently working on several spinoff shows, including a children’s animated series and an anime series. The play exists on its own, but it also informs the narrative and characters fans know.  

“The idea was to explore Henry Creel and his backstory and fill in a gap that we don’t explore in Season 4,” Ross Duffer says of the villain also known as Vecna. “The play was being developed simultaneously with us writing Season 4 so we were adjusting as we went. It was an interesting way to develop a story, but to do it concurrently like that made sure everything locks in mythology-wise.” 

Development on “The First Shadow” began during Season 2. Daldry approached Friedman after seeing the magic and spectacle in her company’s production of “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child” at London’s Palace Theatre. The creative team spent time brainstorming the story during the early months of the pandemic with screenwriter Jack Thorne, but eventually decided they needed someone who knew the series intimately. 

Kate Trefry, a writer on “Stranger Things” since Season 2, was an obvious choice for Daldry, despite the fact that she’d never written a play before.  

“Season 2 is really when we started to expand this world and mythology,” Ross Duffer says. “So Kate knows that as well as us. She's been with us in the trenches for so many years that we were so happy that she had this opportunity to do this.” 

From early on, no one wanted to simply remake the first season. Daldry wanted the story to be what Martin calls “in the center of the conversation,” rather than a secondary narrative, so a prequel made the most sense. 

“When we met with Stephen we had just cracked this Henry Creel stuff in the writers room,” Ross Duffer says. “We said, ‘Well there might be an opening here.’ And Stephen really fell in love with it.” 

“There are questions of ‘Why Hawkins?’ and ‘How did all this stuff happen?’” Martin adds, referring to the show’s fictional Indiana town, which becomes a hotbed of supernatural activity. “This felt like a good way to address that.”  

“The First Shadow,” set in Hawkins in 1959, is told over two chapters. Several familiar characters appear, including Bob Newby, Joyce Maldonado and Jim Hopper, who are in their last year of high school when a new student named Henry Creel arrives. Nearby, Dr. Brenner is getting his start in his lab. There are also new characters, like Bob’s sister Patty Newby. Trefry calls it an ensemble play with Henry Creel as the “spine” of the story. Beyond that, everyone involved is as tight-lipped about the plot as they are about the forthcoming grand finale of the Netflix original. 

“It’s about outsider kids who come together to solve a mystery,” Martin says. “And in doing so find themselves and each other. That's really ultimately what ‘Stranger Things’” does so well and why so many people connect with it.” 

Trefry adds that it’s also “about the loss of innocence and coming of age and how you are changed and ruined and saved by these formative events that happened in high school.” 

“So, hopefully, you’ll see that Hopper and Joyce and Bob are all presenting echoes of the trauma that is at the center of this play,” she says. 

In the first season of “Stranger Things,” Joyce, Bob and Hopper seem surprised by what’s going on in Hawkins. But Trefry confirms there’s an explanation for why they don’t immediately connect it to their high school years.  

“The climactic events that happen within these two stage episodes had to be something that could be written off as not magical or science fiction,” she says. “It had to be spectacular and make sense, but we had to go forward in honesty with our characters.” 

As a TV series, “Stranger Things” has a recognizable aesthetic. The Upside Down and its monsters are familiar to viewers, so a stage version needed to incorporates similar visuals.  

Because Trefry had never written a play, she didn’t worry about whether certain effects or scenes would be possible, which upped the ante for everyone included.  

“She cross-cut scenes as she would in the show and wrote crazy visual effects sequences as she would in the show,” Matt Duffer says. “She wasn’t limited by that because it then just presented a challenge for Stephen to solve, which is fun. The opening sequence of the play -- I don’t think anyone even knew if it was possible. I'm still not sure how they’re doing it.” 

Friedman and Daldry put together a notably skilled creative team. Friedman set the bar high from the outset, telling them, “I need to be taken to a new dimension of what is possible with theater.” 

That team includes illusions design and visual effects artists Jamie Harrison and Chris Fisher, who are responsible for the onstage magic in “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.” Harrison and Fisher spent nearly a year coming up with the effects in “The First Shadow” and have continues perfecting things during rehearsals. 

“It’s very pressurized because there is nothing worse than a bad effect because the audience knows straight away,” Harrison says. “We have to go through quite a lot of watching our work be quite bumpy before it gets smooth. And we have to bring the actors from zero magic skill to being very expert in a condensed period of time.” 

“When you have the world of ‘Stranger Things,’ people know it,” Fisher adds. “They have those big sequences, so we naturally are creating big sequences. We’ve pushed it and I think by us pushing, the directors and Kate have pushed us even more and said, ‘Now we know you can do that, we want this.’” 

As a series “Stranger Things” relies on CGI alongside practical effects, but onstage everything has to be done for real. 59 Productions are creating the video design and visual effects for the play, which will work in tandem with the illusions and Miriam Buether’s set design. Harrison says that “anything that can be achieved in film can be achieved in theater.” 

“In film, people want absolute reality,” Harrison says. “For the effects to be visually real. In the theater, we have a level of imagination that we can use as well. For example, in the piece we’re creating there are a lot more blood and guts.” 

Trefry adds that the stage show is genuinely terrifying. “It’s scary like ‘Stranger Things’ is scary,” she says. “There’s a little bit of like guts and gore, and then there’s also real trauma – people dealing with real stuff.” 

Other elements of the production will hint at the series as well. For instance, Harrison and Fisher met with the creature designer from the series during their design process to ensure “visual continuity,” although they won’t say which creatures appear in the play. And D.J. Walde’s original music recreates the familiar synth theme song with a theremin that matches the late 1950s setting.  

For the Duffers, bringing the “Stranger Things” universe to life on stage satisfies their love of practical effects.  

“The downside of CGI is that the audience is conditioned to the fact that we can basically do anything,” Matt Duffer says. “But there’s something about seeing it actually done. When I saw ‘Cursed Child,’ my jaw was dropping in a way it rarely does now with these big movies. We want to do the same here.” 

Because Trefry wrote the play while Season 4 was in development, the series’ writers were able to retrofit elements of that season to reflect the stage show. The events of the play will also help to “enrich” Season 5, Matt Duffer says.  

“There’s a ton of conversation and dialogue between this play and the events that happen in Season 5,” Trefry says of the final season, which is over halfway written. “It was about trying to create something that is canon, but where you don’t have to see it to see Season 5. But if you do see it, it’ll make Season 5 better.” 

“There are hints of where [the show] is going to go,” Ross Duffer adds. “I think when [Season] 5 comes together, all of those pieces will hopefully click.” 

“The First Shadow” tickets are currently on sale through Aug. 25, 2024, although Friedman confirms the case signed one-year contracts and the production is open-ended. The plan is to bring the play to Broadway and the rest of the U.S. as soon as possible.  

“Hopefully it can get to as many places as it can so as many fans as possible can experience it,” Matt Duffer says. “That’s one thing we’re trying to figure out: How do we make sure people are able to see it before Season 5 releases?” 

“The First Shadow” marks the beginning of a broader universe for “Stranger Things.” The Duffers say they can’t “focus on the spinoffs until we’re landed the plan with Season 5,” but so far they’ve enjoyed letting other artists re-imagine their ideas. 

“This was originally pitched as a standalone story and so to be here now is surreal,” Ross Duffer says. “But this has been the most rewarding experience for us creatively." 

[johnhelliwell]

Oh i am so mad at Roger. They settled with Rick at least but are still going with Roger.

[sage-nebula]

Tails' real name being a human name (Miles) is weird, so I've decided that his name being a human name was an accident (his full name being a speed pun is a happy accident). His parents did the same thing that Asriel's parents did in Undertale, where they took the first two letters of one parent's name and the last three letters of the other parent's name and mashed them together to get their child's name. In his case, his mother's name was Mist, and his father's name was . . . Squiggles.

[ifwebefriends]

My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

[koqabear]

congratulations on 2k!! im so proud of you so heres a song equation that i think is so genius

the weeknd, one of your girls + beomgyu + smut and fluff = popular fuckboy!beomgyu x popular sweet!mc

this song is so beomgyu to me😵‍💫😵‍💫

♫: One of the Girls, The Weeknd // [2K Masterlist]

"Beomgyu’s a lot more obsessed with you than he’d like to admit."

beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 2.1K // genre: smut, pwp, only a bit of fluff sorry <3 MDNI.

warnings: dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, oral (m & f rec), name calling (slut), finger sucking(?), spitting, praise, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, etc.), deep throating, dacryphilia maybe, possessiveness, overstimulation, cumming untouched ig. unprotected sex.. lmk if i should add anything

Notes: 2k followers ended months ago and this bitch is still here

Beomgyu never intended to keep you around this long.

Pretty girls like you were never his type. Saccharine sweet, innocent smiles, bright eyes and an energetic attitude that brought people to you like flies to honey. You had the world in the palm of your hand, opportunities at your feet and friends that were loyal like dogs— you were perfect, untouchable, untainted. 

Everything he was not. 

Maybe that’s how he got where he is now, low lidded eyes observing you carefully, watching as your shining doe eyes plead up at him, careful hands smoothing up and down the rough material of his jeans; you’re so pretty like this, he finds himself thinking, all pliant and weak to him, waiting for his command like a mindless puppy— your throat bobs and your tongue darts across your lips, dainty fingers playing with the loops of his belt as you silently plead for permission to let him feel good.

“My friends were talking about you today,” Beomgyu murmurs, tilting his head and reaching down to caress your face gently; warm hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone, smiling at your head that immediately goes to lean into his touch, “said they couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout the way you looked in the dress you wore to last weeks party.”

Memories flash in your mind; the party your friends dragged you to, only complying because you were aware of who was taking part in hosting it— the pure, innocent image that hung over your head causing heads to turn the whole night— you could hear it, practically, the whispers and comments wondering what you were doing in such a place, all having speculated you the type to hate loud, rowdy environments like these.

They weren’t wrong; you barely lasted an hour in that dark, crowded place, finding yourself having a much better time in the back of Beomgyu’s car, pretty dress bunched at your hips and your makeup smudged by the time he dropped you off at your place, greedy hands refusing to let you go so easily, not one to put up much of a fight yourself; you’ve always been fond of waking up to the sight of Beomgyu first thing in the morning, anyway. 

Beomgyu’s eyes darken; you’re snapped out of your reverie by the feeling of blunt nails digging into your skin, your head tilted back as you’re forced to stare back at Beomgyu’s dangerous gaze.

“They also couldn’t stop talking ‘bout how bad they wanna fuck you,” he seethes, nails digging in deeper at the very thought; your eyes glisten and you shift restlessly on your knees, a shaky sigh escaping your lips at his tone— his thumb quickly reaches over to weigh down at your bottom lip, parting your lips slowly. 

“Would give anything to feel your mouth,” he recounts, thumb pushing into your mouth, a gentle pressure against your tongue as he surveys how easily you obey him; his brows knit together and his thumb hooks down against your tongue, opening your mouth roughly as he hovers over you; his face is inches away from yours as he speaks, his voice barely audible. “Said it’s such a shame they didn’t get their hands on you that night.”

Beomgyu could only sit back in his seat and listen; a spectator to it all, jaw clenched and arms crossed as he took in the way they spoke about you, salivating over you— the very reminder is enough to have his blood boiling. But, who was he to lash out at them? As far as the world was concerned, you were a pure, pretty girl that was expected to marry the son of an influential family friend. Beomgyu was never supposed to be in the picture.

“Wonder what everyone would think if they saw you now,” he mutters, voice patronizing and eyes filled with a sick arrogance as he stares down at you, “a good little slut on her knees for me.”

Without further warning, he spits; you flinch slightly at the action, a whine ripping through you as he straightens back up. Deft fingers smooth down your head, digging into your scalp and forcing your head forward— your hands are quick to undo his jeans, not needing another word from him for you to know what he wants. 

“Fuck,” Beomgyu breathes out, dazed at the sight of your eager actions, quickly undoing his jeans and getting to his leaking cock; your hand is warm and soft against him, and he feels himself twitching pathetically the moment you finally pull him free from his underwear; your pace is familiar and your lips are plush as they kiss at the tip of his cock, doe eyes glancing back up at him for approval.

“So perfect for me,” Beomgyu coos, caressing your cheeks and watching as you take him in your mouth slowly, lidded gaze glued onto the lewd scene like he’s determined to ingrain everything about this moment into his mind, “Know just what I like, such a good girl.”

His voice is soft and deep as he purrs out praise to you, hand wandering down until it’s placed at your throat curiously— you relax instinctively, jaw falling slack as he begins to thrust shallowly, whispered curses and rumbled groans making your thighs clench pitifully— but your hands simply fall down on your thighs, knowing that Beomgyu never likes it when you touch yourself like this. 

Your tearful yet determined gaze has Beomgyu’s pace stuttering— you just look so damn pretty under the dull lights of his room, the feminine and cute outfit you’ve put on today not helping at all; your makeup is already getting smudged from the tears that cling to your lashes and the drool that builds up at the corners of your mouth, taking everything Beomgyu gives you with nothing but a wide doe-eyed look. 

“Shit…” Beomgyu groans, his thrusts a lot rougher than they were moments ago; he’s getting closer, you can tell, your hands balling into fists on your thighs as you continue to let him fuck your mouth just how he likes— his hand is frantic to grab at the back of your head, fingers stinging at your scalp as he pulls you flush against his pelvis; he’s still, and you can feel him throbbing in your mouth— your throat stings and your eyes squeeze shut, hot tears running down your cheeks as you swallow instinctively; Beomgyu lets out a sharp moan at the feeling.

“D–Don’t— don’t… do that,” Beomgyu huffs out, hips grinding subconsciously against you, your lungs starting to burn as you place a frantic hand on his thigh— but Beomgyu pays no mind to you, clearly lost in his head as he lets out a shaky sigh; at the sudden feeling of you placing a slight pressure on him, he looks down at you curiously. 

“Hold it,” he tells you, lips twitching darkly as he feels you swallow again, body tensing as he simply ruts into your throat gently, “just a bit longer… you can take it baby.”

Your throat constricts around him, your eyes sting and you whine on his cock that continues to stuff your mouth— Beomgyu only pulls out once he feels you tapping weakly at his thigh, watching with low lidded eyes as you immediately begin to sputter and cough, a string of spit connected from his tip to your lips; he leans down to get a good look at you, watching you with a deceivingly soft smile as you try to regain your breath— his hand smoothes down your hair fondly, head cocking to the side as he prompts you to look at him. 

“Good?” he asks gently, watching you nod without hesitation; he chuckles, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before he takes your hands in his, pulling you up and beginning to walk you backwards toward his bed, “Good.”

As Beomgyu hovers over you, your he can’t help but find himself thinking about how fond he’s grown of this sight; of you, your breathless figures and your shiny eyes that catch his every movement, from his gaze that takes you in hungrily to his hands that slowly push the skirt of your dress up. 

“Such a pretty girl,” Beomgyu breathes out, your wide eyes watching as he shifts down to lay on his stomach, slow, warm hands running up and down your thighs— you squirm impatiently at the feeling, hips bucking and lips parting in a gasp as he places a slow kiss onto your clothed cunt; mouth lingering for a moment, smiling coyly at the wet patch that already seems to have formed— and he looks back up at you, fingers hooking under your panties to pull them down as he speaks. “All mine too, right?”

Without thinking, you nod.

“Wouldn’t let anyone else see this perfect body,” he murmurs, fingers beginning to wander up and down your slit, toying with your clit and watching the arousal leak out of you desperately, “It’s all for me.”

Beomgyu always seems to get like this, you think to yourself— his touches are teasing, needy, and his tongue is warm as he licks at your clit, fingers picking up where he left off so he can talk— he’s insatiable, possessive, and his words always make you clench a little tighter against him; you think he must feel the way you react to him, and that’s why he’s taken a liking to running his mouth so much. 

You couldn’t be any more incorrect, though— because as Beomgyu finally begins to use his mouth on you, tongue fucking your hole and nose pressing insatiably against your clit, he can only find himself thinking about how he’d like to spend the rest of his life like this— here, with you, listening to the way you keen and cry and bury your fingers in his hair, whining incoherently into the air. 

“I’m— I’m close,” you stutter, your hips bucking and chasing after Beomgyu’s mouth; he simply hums in response, eyes closed with bliss as he feels your thighs shake and close around his head— your voice is pretty and airy as you stutter out mindless praise, every moan of his name causing his cock to twitch and leak against your mattress, unable to stop the way he grinds against it stupidly. 

“R-right— Right there, oh my god, please don’t stop, please— coming, I’m coming, Beomgyu—!”

Your hips buck up and your back arches— your nails dig into his scalp and pull at his hair, shaky moans falling from your lips as your body tenses up and your orgasm washes over you. Beomgyu remains keen to it all— every sound you make, the way your body shakes and falls limp, he takes it all in, tongue still lapping hungrily at your arousal and hips still grinding into your mattress. 

He helps you ride it all out— your eyes prick with tears all the while, sensitivity sending shocks throughout your body as you feel him groan against your cunt, burying his head further in even after you’ve begun to whine that it’s too much; when his head emerges from between your legs, he looks just as dazed and out of breath as you— if not more so. 

“Gyu…” you mumble out, eyes drifting down to his chest that heaves, down to his stomach and noticing something that makes your eyes widen; Beomgyu follows your gaze, glancing down and looking away with red tinted ears.

“Can’t help it,” he huffs, not ashamed in the slightest as he hovers over you, cupping your face and leaning down to capture your lips, barely parting so he can speak, “you’re so hot when you cum.”

“Am I?” you ask softly, laughing at the immediate nod you get; your hand wanders down between your bodies, fingertips brushing over his cum-stained stomach and on his already hardening cock— your brows jump, and you smile. “Need me to clean you up?”

Beomgyu’s fervent shake of his head catches you by surprise; he’s never been one to deny the feeling of your mouth on him, so to say that this unexpected was an understatement.

“Just wanna be inside you,” he mumbles against your lips, the feeling of his cockhead grinding against your clit bringing about a sigh from both of you, “wanna see you cum again.”

The whine you let out at his words is enough to have him entering you slowly; dark eyes taking in every change of your expression, watching as your brows furrow at the stretch— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of the sight. 

No other girl has ever managed to do what you have; the man above you feels entirely enamored as he watches the way you cry and clench around his cock, gasping his name and clinging onto him desperately— you drive him crazy, and this only serves to prove it further. 

You were never supposed to leave such an impact on him. But now that you have, Beomgyu will do anything to make sure that you don’t escape his clutches.

[prettymonegasque]

Hii !! Can you write smut about Lando at the beach or on a yacht ? <3

Lando Norris x Reader

A/N: icymi I have the hots for innocent little lando norris

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Blow job, m! receiving, sub! Lando, jealousy, not proof read.

You've heard that jealousy is bad. It's the big green monster that ruins relationships. Luckily, you never had the chance to experience it. Until now. Something about the way that bitch laughed at Lando's lame jokes and kept touching his arm, triggered the wrong nerve. A primal urge to mark your territory rose in you. You were on a mission.

"Hey guys. How you doin'?" You walked over to Lando and the tramp. "Hey Y/N. Lando was just telling me how to beat Wario on Super Mario. I'm always stuck there." Her voice was annoyingly pitchy and her fucking hand was not moving away from your man. And that muppet was oblivious.

"Really? I beat him on the first try. Guess some of us know when to stop." You stared the girl down. Lando finally got to his senses and felt the tension simmering. "Anyways, I'm gonna borrow Lando for a bit." You didn't for a reply before dragging him to the little storage room in the yacht.

"Um. Can I ask what's happening or..?" Lando dragged looking at you with those innocent hazel green eyes. "You didn't know what she was doing?" You were wondering if he was mocking you or if he was genuinely confused. "She was asking about Super Mario." He shrugged. "God you're so adorable" You couldn't help how annoyingly innocent he was. You pushed him against the door and hungrily caught his lips.

You felt like an animal and you wanted the whole jungle to know who your mate is. You made sure to leave marks on his neck and he whined and gasped at your feral mission. "Baby, that's gonna leave a mark." He mumbled. The absence of a shirt worked out perfectly. You were on your knees and swiftly removed his swimsuit. Lando threw his headback but instead hit his head on the door. "Fuck" He half moaned as you started pumping him. You could see the precum leaking. As much as you wanted to feel his weight on your tongue, you also wanted to tease just a wee bit for unknowingly being a little slut. Lando's whines were getting louder by the stroke.

"Love, please I can't hold much longer." He gasped. "Patience baby boy. If you wanted me to get you off, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to let some bimbo feel you up." You looked up at him with a pout, taunting him. "Baby, I swear, I didn't know she was flirting with me. I got all excited about Wario. Please ba- Fuck" You took all of him in. You bobbed your head. You could sense he was getting close. You pulled him out and kitten licked his slit, almost sending him to oblivion.

His moans were turning into borderline screams. Lando was no stranger to being loud in bed but being loud in public was a new thing. You smirked as he gripped your hair. "Shit Y/N I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum in your mouth baby. Fuckin' hell." He didn't have to tell you twice. You continued sucking him till he came in you. Your mouth filled with his seed and you swallowed every single drop. He looked like a fucking Greek God from your point of view, all flushed and innocent.

He pulled out of you and helped you up. You kissed him softly. He smiled against your lips. "It's cute when you get jealous baby." He mumbled. "I wasn't jealous. I was being territorial, there's a difference." You rolled your eyes. "Admit it you have the hots for me" He giggled. "Well unfortunately I have a lifetime of hots for you." You smiled lifting your left hand as the sun shone on your ring finger making the diamond glisten.

[redr0sewrites]

Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna

THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭

🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox

when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed

your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes

vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said

once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room

he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more

"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder

after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much

once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you

the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him

its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time

you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh

after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently

vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought

there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can

whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!

he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree

vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again

"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*

overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️

vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.

"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"

you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."

i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!

[ddejavvu]

this idea came to me when I wanted to go to bed so imagine bradley at the hard deck wearing his usual hawaiian shirts and he bumps into a girl in a dress with the exact same design as his shirt like it's fate😭 and then after they start dating they always match🥹

THIS IS SO CUTE ??

--

The material that Bradley's hand brushes against is soft, but he doesn't pay much attention to it until he can see it. He stops in his tracks, offering you a sincere, "Sorry," when he's jostled from his left and rams into you on his right. You turn to glance at him over your shoulder, and you register each others' outfits at the same time, all owlish blinks and hitched breaths.

Bradley speaks first, a murmured, 'Oh-' but you're hot on his trail, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips.

You're wearing the same thing.

Bradley's sporting a faded old Hawaiian shirt, but it's unmistakably the same patterned fabric that your dress is made from. The green on his shirt was a lot brighter when he'd plucked it out of his dad's closet almost ten years ago, but yours is more vibrant, reminding him of a photo of him and his dad that lays in the drawer of his nightstand.

"I like your shirt," You grin at him, and he wonders if the glimmer in your eyes is always there, or only when you've got a drink in hand. It's pretty, he thinks, he hopes it's not temporary.

"I like your dress," He teases, swallowing what he doesn't want to admit is the beginnings of a lump in his throat, "Where'd you get it?"

"I found it at a thrift shop," You admit, reaching out to tug at the open panel of his shirt, "What about you?"

"It was my dad's," He grins, taking one step closer to you so that you're not so much reaching out for him as you are reaching up, "If he'd known there was a matching dress, he would have bought one for my mom."

"That's sweet!" You gush, and he notices whether you want him to or not, that you haven't let go of his shirt yet, "I like it when husbands match with their wives, I think it makes a good man."

--

"-And that's- that's why he's got that dumbass tie on," Fanboy concludes, words coming out slurred with laughter, "'Cause- cause three years ago she said it'd make him a good man."

"It's not dumb," Bob pipes up with a kind smile, eyeing Bradley's tie and your matching hair tie, a scrunchie made from the same fabric. You'd had to sacrifice your dress to fashion your accessories, but you're wearing maternity clothing now, and you likely won't be able to fit into it afterwards, anyways. It's a thing of the past, but you'd thought it unbearable not to incorporate the reason you'd gotten together with Bradley in the first place into your wedding.

"I don't care if he thinks it's dumb," Bradley drawls, his hand growing clammy from where it's been clutching yours beneath the table for almost an hour now, though he makes no move to break the embrace, "He thinks deodorant is dumb, too, and I can smell him from here."

"I'd watch what you say, Fanboy," Phoenix warns, "They made a onesie for the baby out of that dress, too, and if you keep running your mouth they might not let you hold her."

"He's not gettin' a chance to hold her anyways," Jake vows, "Kid's gonna love me so much she won't want me to put her down."

"You usually have the opposite effect on women," Bradley reminds him, "But the only ones I'll trust to hold her are Phoenix and Bob."

"No fair! I've got nieces and nephews," Jake protests, slightly more invested than normal thanks to the wine he's been nursing, his cheeks growing rosy with each sip, "I'm great with 'em."

"You throw those kids around like they're basketballs," Bradley scoffs, "And I'm not letting you give my baby brain damage, Hangman. I've gotta make sure she's smarter than you."

[girlgenius1111]

i love you... it's all i can think

love you anyway part 2

alexia x reader proposal

Alexia was freaking out. She didn't think she'd ever been this nervous before, in her whole life. Not before the UWCL final. Not before the World Cup final. Not before her knee surgery.

She knew, realistically, that you'd say yes. You'd talked about marriage before, and both of you had expressed your desire to get married. Still, as she walked with you, hand in hand towards the boat, she couldn't help the waves of anxiety washing over her.

You were only slightly suspicious. She'd told you she was planning a surprise for the night, which looked like it was going to be a evening on the sea with her. This trip was partly a birthday trip for you, though, so you chalked it up to that. You'd never really let yourself believe that Alexia would propose. She was so perfect, in every way, it seemed too good to be true.

"After you, mi amor," she murmured, reaching a hand out to help you onto the boat. You smiled at her, pecking her cheek as you passed her. She preened at the gesture, smiling softly to herself. Once you were on the boat, she put her bag down, pulling you in by the hand for a hug. Even when the source of her anxiety was asking you a question, Alexia couldn't resist the comfort she got from your embrace. You held her tightly, enjoying the feeling of her warm, tanned skin against yours. After a minute you pulled back, placing your hands on her cheeks.

"Are you alright, baby? You've been quiet today," you wondered, studying her closely.

"Si, I'm fine, just a little tired. Excited to relax," she replied, just a hair too quickly. Still, you nodded, letting her go, and reaching for the bag she'd put down. She stopped you though, grabbing it and pulling it out of your reach. You looked at her questioningly.

"What do you need? I'll get it for you," she said, voice a little strained. You gave her a weird look, but requested a bottle of water. She pulled one out, handing it to you, before placing the bag on the table, across the boat from you.

She was only wearing a light, flowy, sundress, and there was no where else for her to hide the ring, but in the bag. The whole day she'd been resisting cracking and just asking you before she had planned to. In bed this morning, when the sun had been streaking in through the window, painting you in a golden light. In the kitchen, during breakfast, when you'd come up behind her, wrapping your arms tight around her abdomen as she whisked the eggs, pressing a few kisses into her shoulder blade. In the car, when you'd put on her favorite playlist, and began singing along easily, head bobbing along adorably to the beat.

Still, Alexia held strong, knowing that you wouldn't mind any of those options. However, she didn't think she could take the teasing if everyone found out that she couldn't wait a few hours to propose to you. Her teammates already teased her relentlessly about how absolutely soft she was for you.

Driving the boat to the little private beach, she watched you out of the corner of her eye, hair flowing in the wind. You were wearing white linen shorts, and a cropped black top. You looked so relaxed, so at peace, so fucking beautiful. Your girlfriend added this moment to the tally of times she almost slipped up.

The beach came into view soon enough, and you could just barely see a picnic set up on on the sand, a blanket carefully laid out, a picnic basket and a bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket.

"What's all that?" you asked, confused as she hadn't said anything about a picnic.

"You'll see." Alexia said coyly, smirking at you from behind her sunglasses. She pulled up to the dock easily, and you swore the way she drove the boat was one of the hottest things you'd ever seen. Turning the motor off, and securing the boat to the dock, she looked at you, an expression on her face that you'd never seen.

"There's one more surprise, but you have to close your eyes, vale?"

You shut your eyes tight, reaching your hand out to her. She chuckled, grabbing the little box in one hand and you in the other, guiding you off the boat, being incredibly careful not to let you fall. She walked you to the end of the dock making sure your eyes were still shut. Off the end of the dock, the sun was setting, a splash of colors lighting up the sky. Pinks, oranges, purples.

"You better not be about to push me into the ocean," you warned, only half joking. She laughed nervously, and you held tighter to her hand. She instructed you to open your eyes, one hand behind her back, holding the box. You opened your eyes, looking around curiously, only seeing your girlfriend, and the sunset, both of which had been present before you'd shut your eyes. Alexia caught your confusion.

"Alright, it's less of a surprise and more of a question," she said nervously, all of the things she'd thought up to say escaping her brain. "I love you," she blurted out, pausing, clearly not sure what else to say. You'd never seen her this flustered before, and decided to help her out. It was becoming clearer to you where this was headed, and you couldn't wipe the grin off your face.

"I love you too, baby, but that's not a question," you said softly, squeezing her hand.

"Right," she said. Alexia was slightly -very- humiliated at how lost for words she was. She'd had a speech, she'd practiced it; in the mirror, to her mom, to Alba, to Mapi. And now the only words she could think were I love you. Honestly. You were looking at her like you didn't care though, like she could simply present you with the ring and you'd say yes, even if she didn't say a word. She looked into your eyes, your captivating eyes, and opened her mouth, the words suddenly flowing.

"I love you, so much. My love for you surpasses what words can describe. You changed my life in ways I cannot explain. I didn't know that I could feel things so deeply until I met you. The way I feel about you, it makes my chest ache. I can't comprehend it sometimes, how everything I want, everything I need, comes back to you," Alexia's voice was starting to break, and she cleared her throat, determined to hold it together.

"There are so many things I want to say; I could spend hours here with you, telling you all the ways you make me a better person. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I want to spend every minute for the rest of my life, doing everything I can to make you just as happy." At that, she got down on one knee, holding the ring out in front of her. You were crying, tears streaming down your face at her words. Alexia wasn't an especially expressive person; you knew she loved you, her actions told you every day. You'd never expected her to make such a big verbal statement though, to tell you exactly how much you mean to her.

"Y/n, will you marry me?" she asked, smiling up at you through trembling lips, and opening the box.

You let out something that was between a sob and a laugh, reaching out desperately for her arms, and pulling her to her feet. Throwing yourself into her, she caught you easily.

"Yes, Alexia. Yes," you cried into her ear, and you felt her whole body relax against you, as she let out a sigh of relief. Pulling back, you pressed your lips hard against hers.

"Did you think I wouldn't say yes, Ale?" you asked incredulously. Alexia blushed.

"I knew you would, but I was still nervous. You know I hate keeping secrets."

"There is no universe in which I say no to that question from you, Alexia. You could ask anywhere, at any time, and I'd say yes," you promised, rubbing your thumbs over her cheeks to wipe the tears away. Alexia pulled you back into a bone crushing hug, picking you up and spinning you around, much too dangerously for 2 people fully dressed standing on a narrow dock. You laughed in her arms, feeling her grin into your neck.

She put you back down, holding her hand out, wordlessly asking for yours. You gave it to her, and she pulled the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your ring finger. It was breathtaking, one large ovalular diamond, 2 smaller ones on either side. The band was lined with smaller diamonds, that sparkled in the sun light. Your jaw dropped looking down at it, before you raised your eyes to Alexia's. She was smirking at you, knowing very well she'd picked the perfect ring.

"You like it?" She asked smugly. You nodded, completely speechless. Alexia pulled you in again, kissing you in a much messier way, her hand lacing through your hair. You pulled away, lips puffy, breathless, and pressed your forehead to your... fiancee’s.

"Picnic time, si? And then we can go back to the villa," she said suggestively, and you threw your head back, laughing.

"Anything you want, baby. After that speech? And this ring? Anything you want." you whispered into her ear, and Alexia shuddered. She'd never been more in love with you, than in that moment.

-----

okay so... obviously i need to write post engagement smut but i'm in more of an angsty fic mood rn and i don't want to half ass it so part 3 will be filthy, i promise. I am actually, seriously, begging people to send in requests of what you want to see smut wise; if you ask i'll probably write it :)

[rosesgoofyass]

“Hhnnn.. that’s it, pup. Goood girl… Deeeep breaths… Beg and maybe I’ll let you have a taste~”

They whisper as my nose is pressed up against their balls, their cock resting on my face as I sniff, taking deep breaths, just like they said. The constant praise makes me melt, their words making me shiver, before they even touch my insides. I’m so drunk off of their scent that I can barely form words.. “mmmnnhh… rruffh~ hnn.. p-pleasee!! Please!! Please please please!!”

Their eyes light up as I break through my broken haze just for them, their hands coming down to reward me for being such a good girl. As their fingers move through my hair, scratching behind my ears and ruffling my hair as they coo over their puppy. “Wonderful view up here, pup. You’re just adorable, you know that? I think my dick was just the accessory your pathetic little face needed. Who’s my good girl?”

Those last four words tip me over, all the thoughts leaving my brain. I mindlessly lick at their balls, my eyes staring pleadingly up at them as my tongue glides up toward their base. I’m all puppy, all theirs. “Hnn.. wrrfff..~”

Seeing me all desperate, they snicker at me, making fun of me for being such a dumb slut. “Aww, poor thing… does puppy need some relief?”

They gently pull my head back, my mouth wide open and panting for them, all dumb and desperate. Slowly, they line up their tip with my mouth, my tongue immediately lapping up their pre the second it touches. As they shove inch after inch into my needy mouth, they coo and talk down to me. “Good girl, you’re taking your treat so well, keep it up pup~”

They’d hold my head and move me back and forth, nice and slow. They’d fuck nice and deep into my throat, my tongue working around them, trying to make my owner feel as good as possible in me. I’d try to bob my head along them on my own, but they’d stop me. “Good fleshlights don’t move, do they pup?”

I whine into them, begging for the throatfucking they know I so desperately want, only for them to stop halfway in my mouth. “C’mon now, puppy, you know better. Quiet down, toys don’t talk. You know your treat is coming.. that’s it, good girl…”

At this point I’m seeing stars, making sure my owner has their fill as they slowly, gently feel around every inch of my little puppy mouth. I can’t stand not being came in. Sure, there’s the occasional drop of pre on my tongue, but that hardly holds a candle to the feeling of load after load dumped down my throat. They can tell I’m getting ancy, and they pull themselves away from my face, leaving me drooling as their saliva covered tip rests inches from my nose. “Go on pup, beg for my cum like a good girl! You know how to beg, don’t you?”

And of course I follow orders. Of course I sit on my knees, chest pounding with butterflies and brain going dumb. Of course I say “P-please! I n-need to t-taste your s-seed.. p-please please pleasseee!” Of course I greedily take a few licks at their tip, trying to get a taste early as they move back just enough that my tongue can’t reach. If course I bark loud for them while begging, showing them how brainless and pathetic I am. Of course I do, because what else are good puppies meant for?

And of course they giggle at my display, petting me all over as they begin to praise me. “Awwee, such a good girl! Puppy must really want her owner’s cum, hmm~ I bet that’s the only thing you can think about, isn’t that right cutie~”

And I blush at the praise and the teasing, panting and staring up at them all needy as they ready themselves to give me what they know I really want. “It was getting cold anyway~”

And finally, after gods know how long of waiting, whining, begging for this, they stick their tip in, and they force their length all the way down my throat. I let out a muffled moan, crumbling and melting into them as they start to use me like a toy. They fully overpower me, ramming themselves in and out, not caring about what I’m doing or what I’m thinking, just focusing on that light at the end of the tunnel, their release into my needy little mouth. “Nngh… you’re such a whore for me, aren’t you pup~ Good fucking girl, you take all of me and you love it, don’t you… Remember, fleshlights don’t swallow, good toys keep it all in their mouths for their owners to look at their messes~”

They keep thrusting, making me choke on them a few times before eventually, they hold themselves balls deep in my throat, and I think to myself, here it comes, puppy’s treat… and nothing. They laugh at me, petting me as I whine for them. Then they speed up again, fucking my throat even harder, and it’s not long before… “F-fuck.. good puppy.. I’m close~”

And finally, they shove themselves inside me one final time, readjusting their cock so that I wouldn’t be forced to swallow, and they release. Their cum is heavenly, truly the nectar of the gods spewing into my mouth as they fill me up, my cheeks puffing up with the amount of seed spilling into my mouth. Good toys don’t swallow, good toys don’t swallow…

“Haaaaahh… good girl, such a good little pup… mhmm.. that’s it, take my cum.. that’s what you were made for…now, open up pup...”

They tilt my head up, making sure not a single drop spills as they stick their fingers in my mouth, holding it open as they inspect my their sticky mess, their cock dripping my saliva on my thigh. They beam down at my full mouth, so visibly proud of their pup as they begin to pet me. “Such a good girl!! My favorite little fleshlight, such a pretty puppy~! You may swallow now, pup, you’ve been such a good girl..”

[grandlinedreams]

hiii i hope you’re having a great day/night!!

may i request a not really physically affectionate reader with zoro law or ace coming to them drunk being really excited and kissing&leaving lipstick marks all over their faces. it could be a hc type thing or whatever you like if you’re not comfortable w that!

also I absolutely love your writing ♥︎♥︎♥︎

hi there!! I hope that you're having a wonderful day/night too bb!! absolutely you can! This is my first attempt at a reaction type of post so I hope that this is to your liking!! and thank-you so much!!

[heads up!: mention of alcohol consumption, being drunk, tw for vomiting in Ace's]

Zoro ㅡ Alcohol is his forte, not yours. It isn't that you're opposed entirely to the idea of drinking, just that you're not as accustomed to it as he is ㅡ and as such, your tolerance for it (especially the stronger stuff) is not the strongest.

"Having fun?" He asks, amused by the flush of pink that's spread across your cheeks and bridge of your nose, the glossy, unfocused quality of your gaze. It'd been a playful challenge from Usopp that even he has higher tolerance than you and now the sharp-shooter is sprawled out a few feet away, fast asleep.

You nod enthusiastically, giggling when Zoro reaches to stop the unsteady bob with his hand. "Man, you're absolutely trashed," he comments. "We need to get you some water before you end up regretting this. Come on."

He reaches for your hand to help you up, steadying the way you sway before leading you towards the kitchen. You're still giggling when he guides you into a seat and retrieves a glass of water for you, pushing it towards you.

"Just how much did you have to drink, anyways?" He asks, reaching to thumb at your cheek affectionately ㅡ and watches you lean into it rather than pulling away. Affection is also far from something you normally indulge in very often, and he can't deny that it's nice to see this side of you.

"Not much," you answer at last, foggy mind finally registering Zoro's question, studying him for a moment. "C'mere." You add the forward curl of your hand to emphasize your words, pouting when he laughs. "I said c'mere!"

"Will you drink that water if I do?" Your head bobbles in a clumsy nod again and he leans forward to comply with your wish, only to blink as you lurch forward to press your lips to his cheek. They're cool and a little sticky, smelling of whatever alcohol you've drank ㅡ but you're on a determined self-imposed mission of peppering his face with kisses. It's a little silly with the way you add a verbal "mwah!" at the end of each one, but it still makes Zoro's own cheeks flush all the same.

"All done," you report when you finally sit back, satisfied with the little marks you've left across his skin, and you reach for the glass of water to drink it, as you'd promised. Zoro is silent for several moments. You won't remember this, he's almost certain ㅡ but now all he can think about is how cute you are when you drink.

ㅡ

Law ㅡ "I think that's enough for tonight." Nimble fingers pluck the half-finished glass of alcohol from your grip, ignoring your pout as he hands it off to Clione, who gladly downs it.

"Spoil-sport," you huff, and Law raises an eyebrow. It's not every day that he gets to witness you acting more like a child than adult, and he'll admit that the way you sulk is amusing.

"You'll thank me in the morning." He reaches for your wrist and gently tugs you up, relying on the fact that the others are in varying stages of inebriation to cover for him being so forward with you in front of the others.

He's already had a drink or two, though he stopped when Ikkaku pointed out that you'd been roped into a drinking game with some of the others. Guiding you to the bathroom, he leans in the doorway to watch you sway as you reluctantly ready yourself for bed, studying your own reddened cheeks in the mirror.

"I could've finished my drink," you tell him petulantly, and he watches you struggle to climb into bed. Another reason he's grateful that no one else will remember much about this evening ㅡ he doesn't need them knowing that it's been months since you last slept in the crew bunkhouse.

"I'm sure you could've, but I'm doing myself a favor when I'm the one who's going to have to look after you when you end up with a hangover." Hat tossed gently to the side, he moves to slip into bed beside you and frowns warily when he finds you eyeing him. "What is it? You're not going to throw up right now, are you?"

You shake your head and lean up, your lips on his cheek before he can ask what you're up to. Slow and a little clumsy, each kiss you press is intentional ㅡ his jaw, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead ㅡ and you giggle when you pull away to admire your handiwork. "Now you can't be grumpy," you tell him.

Your own perchance for physical affection is usually on par with his, but it's clear that however many drinks you've had have pushed aside your own personal boundaries.

"Aww, you're blushing!" You crow, and he scowls at the fit of giggles that follows. You're lucky that he loves you, and you're lucky that you're cute.

"Whatever," he grouses, reaching to cover your eyes with a hand. "Go to sleep. And don't puke in my bed, got it?"

ㅡ

Ace ㅡ "See? I told you this was a bad idea."

"Shut up," you groan, venom absent from your tone for the way you're forced to stop walking in order to halt the vicious spin of your head. "I don't drink much, you know that."

"I do," Ace agrees, "which is why I'm telling you it was a bad idea." He pauses, head tilting in thought. "Not gonna lie, it was hot to watch you drink them under the table, though. Who knew you had it in you, huh?"

He waits for you to answer and when you don't, he turns to find you half-way into an alley, emptying the contents of your stomach as quietly as you can. That kind of thing doesn't disgust Ace, however, and he hurries to rub your back until the shuddering heave of your body has stopped. "Feel better?"

"Much," you rasp, fumbling for the strap of your canteen and chugging from it greedily. Ace waits until you're satisfied that you've rinsed your mouth clean before he loops his arm around your waist and continues guiding you back towards the Moby Dick. "Still think I'm hot?"

"Absolutely, babe." Ace's answer is swift and as honest as it always is, which makes your heart do something funny as you turn to look at his side-profile. It doesn't take long for him to notice, his expression somewhere between confusion and concern as you come to a stop. "What is it? Gonna get sick again?"

You shake your head. "No, I just really want to kiss you right now." There's the answering spark of fire from Ace's fingers in response, though you take advantage of his momentary fluster to cup his face between your hands and promptly pepper his face with kisses.

Clustered over his freckles, the tip of his nose, eyebrows and even his eyelids, it's several long moments before you pull away. "There," you say, and Ace wonders if you're sober enough to realize his face has gone roughly the temperature of the sun from your burst of affection. "Come on, I wanna go to bed."

Ace lets you pull him along, still dazed by the lingering warmth of your lips on his skin. He goes to bed without washing his face, eager to soak in this side of you that's far less reserved with your affection ㅡ and when the men of his division point out in the morning that he has your lipstick dotted across his face, all he does is grin.

[proxima-writes]

Title: cruel summer | chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s note: I’m playing fast and loose with ages and timelines here. Joel is 38, reader is 23, and Sarah is 5. No mushroom apocalypse here, y’all.

Additional tags/warnings: explicit sexual content, age gap (15 years), reader is 23 and Joel is 38, he’s a lil guilty about it anyways, pet names, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, oral (f receiving), fingering, begging, angst, drying humping. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

You hear the heavy footsteps of your dad and the contractor coming up the steps to the front door. You turn from the stove, spatula in hand just as your dad comes into view with a man you’ve never seen before.

He’s tall and broad, shoulders stretching the worn flannel he’s wearing to what must be near its breaking point. He’s got a strong nose and sharp jaw highlighted by his tan skin. His hair is brown that’s streaked with gray, messy curls sticking up in all directions.

Woah, you think. Your eyes meet warm brown ones that make your knees feel a little unsteady.

Your dad gives the man your name followed by, “My daughter. She’s home for the summer while she studies for the MCAT. I hope that’s not a problem that she’ll be here?”

“Not a problem for me. Noise might bother you, though, if you’re tryin’ to study,” the man says, deep voice making your mouth go a little dry. He holds a hand out to you. “I’m Joel, by the way. I’m doin’ the remodel on your parent’s room.”

That’s right. Your dad had mentioned that your mom had finally broken him down and made him get a contractor out to update their master bath. They scheduled it while they’re away on a six week cruise, leaving you to house sit while you studied for your exam.

“It won’t bother me,” you reply, shaking his hand. They’re calloused and warm and just the brief contact is enough to have you wondering what they would feel like trailing over other parts of your body. “I’ve got noise canceling headphones.”

He smiles, but it’s short lived. He sniffs the air, brows pinching together. “Is something burning?”

“Shit! My eggs!” You turn back to the stove and shut the burner off, moving the pan off the heat and trying to scrape your now burnt scrambled eggs from the surface.

“Come on, Joel, let me show you upstairs.”

________

Joel returns to the house a few times that week to take measurements and talk materials with your mom. Each time you’re there in the kitchen, books spread around you at the dining table and your head bobbing to music he can’t hear.

He can’t help the way his eyes linger when he comes inside, stomping his work boots against the mat inside the doorway as a courtesy and, if he’s honest with himself, to get your attention. And every time you glance up and smile at him, bright and beautiful.

As soon as he’s back upstairs and remembers he has a job to do, he berates himself for the thoughts he has. He has no goddamn right to be looking at a client’s daughter, much less one as young as you.

His presence in the house is sparing over the first couple weeks of the job, mostly just dropping by for measurements and to get an idea of a plan for demo day. He’s got orders in on tile placed, fixtures picked out, paint purchased. Everything’s in place to get started next week.

Satisfied, he heads downstairs to leave. He both hopes you’re in the kitchen and prays you’re not, if only to ease his guilty conscience.

But there you are, bent over in front of the fridge in shorts that hug your ass a bit too well. You straighten up with a can of beer in your hand, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“You even old enough to drink that?” Joel can’t help but ask, lingering in the doorway.

“I bought it. Why, you wanna see my ID? You moonlight as a cop or somethin’?” You roll your eyes.

Brat, Joel thinks, rolling his lips together. He turns to leave, he’s made enough of a fool of himself for one day.

“I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering!” You call out as the door shuts behind him.

Fuck.

________

Joel’s been upstairs since early this morning, smashing things with a sledge hammer, prying things with a crowbar, and all sorts of other destruction that filters through your headphones.

It’s almost noon when you decide to give up and give into the temptation to go see what the man is doing. You head upstairs, stepping carefully into your parents room. There’s plastic tarp leading from the door of the bedroom to the door of the bathroom that crinkles beneath your feet as you move further inside.

You peek beyond the doorway of the bathroom and clutch the frame almost painfully when you catch a glimpse of a rather sweaty Joel, white t-shirt sticking to his chest and back as he wiggles a crowbar between the wall and vanity, leveraging his body weight against it to get the fixture to detach from the wall.

He repeats the process a few more times until the vanity is completely removed. He tosses the crowbar to the side and wipes the back of his hand across his dusty forehead. You clear your throat, his eyes shooting to the mirror to meet yours.

“Hey, uh. Hi. I’m about to make something for lunch…did you want anything?” You ask. His chest moves rapidly with his labored breathing.

“Sure,” he finally says.

_______

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table, watching you move around the kitchen like a picture of domesticity as you make two ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch.

You set the plate in front of him, along with a cold can of Coke, before sitting across from him with your own matching meal. He takes a bite, humming in satisfaction.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s swallowed. You nod, picking up your own sandwich and digging in.

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Joel lets his eyes wander over you while you’re focused on your food. You’ve got a University of Texas tank top on, white with an orange Longhorn stretched across your chest, and another pair of shorts, giving him an eyeful of your long, smooth legs.

Tearing his eyes from you, his gaze lands on the stack of books on the table. “So, the MCAT. Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Not to brag, but I did finish organic chemistry without crying,” you reply, lips tilted in a smug grin. “I’m taking it at the end of August, before senior year starts. Dad said I didn’t have to get a summer job if I moved home and saved him some rent money.”

“What kind of doctor are you lookin’ to become?”

“Pediatrician. I love kids.”

Joel’s heart rate kicks up as he thinks about you chasing a toddler around a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or in the kitchen with a baby on your hip.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Joel?” You ask, breaking through his mental flagellation.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you have any kids,” you repeat.

He can feel his face go soft. “Yeah, Sarah. She just turned five. She starts kindergarten at the end of the summer.”

“How sweet,” you say. “I bet you and your wife are excited about that.”

“There’s, uh…there’s no wife,” Joel replies, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He stands, taking this empty plate to the dishwasher. “I better get back to work.”

Joel feels the weight of your stare on his back as he heads upstairs.

________

It goes on like that for two weeks. Joel gets to the house early and you study at the kitchen table until lunch time, when you ask him if he wants anything to eat. He should say no. It’s not your job to feed him, he’s got a stash of granola bars that’ll do just fine.

But each time he sees your hopeful doe eyed expression, his resolve crumbles to dust.

So he sits at the table each day, eating the sandwich you made him and drinking the Coke you gave him, learning tidbits of information about you.

Like how you weren’t sure about pursuing medicine at first, so you’re a bit behind schedule in taking your studies and will be graduating late. You changed your degree path when you volunteered in the pediatric oncology service at the medical school, sitting with young kids undergoing chemotherapy and making their days brighter. Your last roommate had a cat that always hid your keys, but you still liked him anyways. How your favorite color is yellow.

He tells you about Sarah. About how her mom left not long after she was born and how he’s gone at this parenting thing alone, save for the support of his brother, Tommy. He tells you about how only finished a semester in community college before dropping out to pursue construction. His favorite drink is whiskey, neat, and his favorite color is red.

One day, you’re not at the table when he lets himself into the house with the key your dad made for him. He finds he’s disappointed, not starting his day with your smile.

Upstairs, he’s working on laying the mud for the shower pan when he hears a splash from outside. He peeks out the window of the bedroom that overlooks the backyard.

His mouth goes dry and his pants get uncomfortably tight as he watches you lift yourself from the pool. You’ve got on the skimpiest red bikini he’s ever seen, the top barely containing your tits and doing nothing to hide the hard peaks of your nipples. You wring your hair out over your shoulder before moving to lay down on a nearby lounger. Your body glistens with drops of water that Joel wants to chase with his tongue.

You turn over on your stomach and Joel bites back a groan, greedily committing the view of your ass to memory. Jesus Christ, he’s never felt like a dirty old man more than in this moment.

He returns to his task and tries to chase his lustful thoughts away with manual labor.

_______

You can see him watching you from the window. Your sunglasses keep your own gaze hidden as you revel in the undivided attention of the man you’d been drooling over the last few weeks. You’d put on your tiniest bikini for the occasion, laying yourself out on the lounge like a meal you’d like him to dig into.

He stood there for a few minutes and you could practically hear his teeth cracking from how tense his jaw was. You could tell Joel really struggled with his attraction to you. He’s staring down the barrel of a fifteen year age gap, after all.

You didn’t see an issue with it. You’re an adult, he’s not abusing any sort of position of power, hell, all the man has done is check you out. He hasn’t even touched you. You don’t want him to feel guilty about being attracted to you because god knows you don’t feel guilty for wanting to climb him like a tree.

You don’t bother with a towel or changing when you go upstairs to tell Joel lunch is ready. When he sees you in the doorway he freezes, and you bite back at a laugh at the look of surprise on his face.

“Lunch is ready,” you tell him.

He clears his throat. “I uh…I think I’ll just eat a protein bar. Thank you, though.”

Your bottom lip pops out in a pout. “But I made pasta salad.”

“I got a lot to do,” he tries again. His jaw keeps clenching, his hand wrapping tightly around the tool he’s holding like he’s hoping it’ll anchor him in place.

“Please, Joel?”

That gets him. He sighs, standing with a groan.

“Fine.”

________

This was a bad idea. He should have held strong and insisted he’d eat by himself today.

You’re still in that goddamn bikini and he is fighting for his life sitting at the table as he watches you plate up pasta salad. Usually you would drink a Coke with lunch but today he’s surprised to see you pouring a glass of wine.

“It’s my day off from studying,” you say as you take your seat across from him, sipping from the glass. “I think I deserve a little treat. Don’t you?”

He has to be imagining the double meaning of your words. He gives you a tight nod in response before focusing all his energy in eating his pasta and avoiding your gaze.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask. Your sweet face is pinched in concern and goddamnit, Joel can’t take this.

“Fine,” he grunts. You give him another pout, the same one that broke his resolve upstairs.

You finish before him, sticking your bowl in the sink before picking up your wine glass from the table and refilling it. Instead of taking a seat, you lean your barely clothed hip against the table in front of him.

“You seem tense,” you comment. Joel swallows roughly, throat dry. You set your glass down and take a step closer.

“What are you doin’?” He asks, voice rough and low. He can barely breathe. This can’t possibly be happening.

You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slide onto his lap, legs on either side of his waist and pussy dragging across his hard cock. He hisses, hands grabbing onto your waist before he can stop himself.

“Darlin’, you can’t be doin’ this,” he says, voice strained. “We can’t be doin’ this.”

“Why not? I see the way you look at me. I’ve been lookin’ the same way.”

“You’re young, baby. Too young for an old man like me.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his and fuck, he can feel your tight little nipples as your tits press against him. “‘M not too young,” you murmur, dipping your head to mouth at his neck. His fingers flex against your ribs. “You’re not doin’ anything wrong, Joel.”

His head drops back as you keep pressing sweet little kisses to the stubbled skin. His hips flex beneath you and you gasp, arms tightening around him.

Joel is so fucked. So, so fucked. Has been from the moment he stepped into this goddamn house and saw you sitting at this very table.

Maybe…maybe just one time. One time should be enough, get it out of your systems, cut through the tension and move on.

You’re whimpering against his neck, squirming over his lap as his hands drag up your waist until his fingers find the edge of one of the pathetic triangles covering your breasts. He can feel your breath hitch as he pulls it to the side, exposing your tight little nipple to the cold air.

“God, baby,” he groans, dipping his head forward to wrap his lips around the little bud. You moan so loud and wanton as he licks you that he knows he’s fucking done for.

He digs his fingers into your still damp hair, tugging your head back so that he can finally drag your mouth to his. You taste like wine and sunshine and he’s never been much of a wine guy, but from your tongue he’ll taste anything.

You open up to him so sweetly, your hands clutching his shoulders and your hips moving against his painfully hard cock as he devours you, dragging his own hands over all that exposed skin like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t touch you everywhere at least once.

It’s still not nearly enough.

He stands and you squeak in surprise as he sits you on the edge of the table. “Holy shit,” you mutter. He glances at your face to make sure you’re okay.

Your hair is messy from his hands and lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and dark as you stare back at him. Your top is half off, and Joel can’t help but reach out and tug the other cup down to expose your other breast.

“Pretty as a goddamn picture, darlin’,” he murmurs. He presses a hand to your chest, urging you to lie back.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask. He huffs a laugh.

“Don’t be a brat, fishin’ for compliments,” he admonishes. He plucks at the strings holding those little bottoms in place, the bows falling loose so that he can push the material aside. “Look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re drenched, baby.”

“Been like this every day,” you reply, voice all breathy as you squirm beneath his rapt attention.

“That right?” He asks, dragging his thumb through your wet folds. You moan, hips jumping from the table. He kneels, placing one arm around over your hips as he presses your legs apart with his free hand, spreading you for him.

You’re breathing so fast he’s almost worried you might pass out. “Shhh, pretty thing, let me take care of you.”

He licks a broad stripe over your core, his tongue swirling around your aching clit before dipping back down to your entrance. You fight against his hold, hips trying in vain to chase his mouth.

“Oh, god,” you cry out. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers scratching against his scalp as he feasts on your cunt. “Joel, more, please!”

He keeps his arm tight against you and uses his other hand to slip one finger into your wet heat, groaning at how tight you are. His tongue focuses on your clit while he slowly strokes his finger in and out, adding a second then a third when you start babbling about more more more.

“Fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg. He shakes his head against your cunt, the scrape of his beard against your sensitive flesh making you scream. “Please!”

He stands, continuing to stroke his fingers inside you as he uses his thumb on your clit to replace his tongue. “Can’t, baby girl, I don’t have a condom with me.”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, please, Joel, I need your cock so bad,” you plead. Joel groans. He’s already crossed a line but he can’t go there. He knows damn well that if he feels you clenching around him with nothing between your bodies, screaming his name as he pounds inside of you, he won’t ever leave.

“No, sweetheart, you’re going to come on my hand and my mouth or you’re not going to come at all,” he snaps, hand moving faster, curling against your front wall.

_______

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Joel continues to drive you higher and higher toward release, your muscles tightening painfully as his fingers curl inside you and his thumb circles your clit.

You don’t know what you expected from all this, but Joel Miller dirty talking and finger fucking you on your kitchen table was not on your deduction bingo card. He’s better than anything your brain has conjured up thus far and you just know this one time isn’t going to be enough to sate you, especially since he keeps calling you “good girl” and “darlin’” and “sweetheart” in his rough southern accent.

You want him to fuck you so bad, you’re desperate for it. But he’s staunchly refusing to cross that line despite the hundreds that have been crossed already.

You try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting this to end, but it crashes over you anyways, leaving you breathless and sobbing his name as his hand slows its pace.

Joel’s fingers slip from your body and he leans forward, pressing them to your lips. You open your mouth, licking and sucking at his offering.

“Goddamnit,” he groans. “That was gorgeous.”

You sit up, supporting yourself on shaky arms. He steps back, but you hook a leg around his waist to stop him.

“Wait, let me—“

“No, baby, I’m good,” he says, cutting you off and dodging your hands. “I gotta get back to work.”

You can feel your high leave you in an instant. “Oh…okay.”

“Thank you for…lunch,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me.”

You don’t say anything as he turns to leave.

————

Upstairs in the bathroom, the one not being remodeled that he presumes is yours due to the messy countertop and fluffy yellow towels, Joel takes his cock from his pants and fists his length, grip almost painful as payment for his transgressions.

He cums with the thought of your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, shouting his name as you clenched around his fingers. Your name is on his lips in the softest whisper he can manage as he cums, hard and hot, into a tissue.

He slumps against the wall, breathless. And while he may have come faster than a teenager, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief.

Fuck.

[suzukiblu]

If you feel up for it, for the writing meme prompt, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, with the song You And Me by Lifehouse? If it's not your thing I totally get it though and hope you have a great time and fun writing the things that do catch your fancy!

I think we ALL knew that I was gonna do baby Kon for this, lbr. Also ngl, this came out way more cracky than the prompt would suggest it should've but it is absolutely my favorite thing I’ve written for this meme so far, as the necessity for the following cut should help attest, haha.

Unfortunately, Lex takes one look at Cadmus’s progress report on the newly-crafted Experiment Thirteen and realizes he has paternal instincts. 

Well, that’s inconvenient. And a little disgusting, honestly. Certainly a disappointment. 

He supposes it could be worse. He could be Lionel about this. 

Anyway, that’s how he has a physiological four year-old on his lap when he hears the news about Superman coming back to life and fistfighting an evil cyborg with his own face about it, because of course the man didn’t have the decency to just stay dead. Why would he, after all? 

Lex needs a drink. That would be a bad example for the physiological four year-old, though. 

Then again, Experiment Thirteen should be completely immune to the effects of Earth-based alcohol in about another four to six months of consistent yellow sun exposure, so . . . 

Lex is halfway through his second brandy when Superman shows up on his balcony at super-speed wearing a very pretentiously dramatic black suit and looking both winded and bewildered. And still alive, unfortunately. 

“Don’t you have a murderous cyborg to be ensuring is in custody?” Lex asks dryly, deciding to just not acknowledge the presence of the physiological four year-old who’s moved on to messily but methodically coloring on the floor underneath his desk. Lex didn’t actually give Experiment Thirteen either a coloring book or crayons, mind, but he appreciates the clone’s resourcefulness in breaking into the office supplies. Anyway, it’s useful for developing its hand-eye coordination and fine motor control. 

Superman’s pupils are pin-pricks, barely even there at all. Which is an unusual reaction from him, and Lex notes that fact reflexively but doesn’t particularly care about it. Meant-to-be-dead people do unusual things, especially the alien ones. And it isn’t as if–

“Baby,” Superman blurts, his eyes wide. 

Lex . . . pauses. Takes a slow sip of his brandy. 

Alright then. 

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” he settles on eventually, raising an eyebrow at him. Experiment Thirteen peers out from under the desk, immediately decides Superman isn’t an interesting presence, and then goes back to coloring all over Lex’s floor. It seems to be drawing either a puppy or a chain of complex genetic sequencing, but judging by the kinds of things it’s been drawing so far, it’s fifty-fifty. Lex has been getting the impression the clone actually likes art, which is a baffling interest to find in his own progeny, but how does that quote go . . . “I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet”? 

Or something like that, anyway. 

“No, I–baby,” Superman stresses, looking bewildered as he floats down a little closer to the open balcony door. 

“. . . yes, I’ve noticed,” Lex repeats, raising his eyebrow again and taking another sip of brandy. Superman looks frazzled, bobbing up a little higher in the air again to get a better view of Experiment Thirteen under the desk. Experiment Thirteen keeps ignoring him in favor of its coloring, displaying no apparent interest in the most powerful uninvited guest in the history of illegal immigration. Lex experiences a moment of overwhelming paternal pride, which is such a bizarre and unanticipated experience that he doesn’t even know what to do with it. 

“Where’d he come from?” Superman asks with a wondering expression. Ugh.

“A cloning lab,” Lex replies dismissively, setting his near-empty glass down on the desk. It’s hardly worth lying about Experiment Thirteen’s origins at this point. He didn’t want to murder everyone in Cadmus to keep the secret. He might need them if there’s an issue with Experiment Thirteen’s genetics later, after all. “We mixed it up a couple weeks ago while you were off wasting everyone’s time being dead."

“You had my baby?” Superman says, tilting in the air and still staring at Experiment Thirteen, as if he's somehow forgotten both how much kryptonite Lex owns and how much kryptonite he keeps specifically in this office. “While I was dead. You had my baby while I was dead.” 

. . . alright then, Lex thinks again, both eyebrows raising this time. 

“I really wouldn’t put it that way, personally,” he says. “Also, I don’t recall saying it was in any way yours.”

“Baby,” Superman repeats inanely, then lands on the floor and ducks down into a crouch to peer under the desk better, his pupils still reduced to barely-there pinpricks. Lex is so mystified he doesn't even activate the security system or the weaponized red sun lamps. Experiment Thirteen frowns at Superman–Lex, again, basks in unanticipated paternal pride–and then turns its back on him and hides all its drawings from him as seriously and carefully as if they were under NDA. 

It's almost adorable, frankly. 

Not that Lex finds things adorable, of course. 

“His heartbeat's so cute,” Superman says, looking absolutely fascinated. Which is surprisingly useful of him to mention, actually, since Lex had previously been vaguely concerned that Experiment Thirteen's odd thrumming heartbeat might be a sign of a heart defect, but apparently it’s just a Kryptonian thing. A . . . “cute” Kryptonian thing, according to Superman. 

Lex is increasingly mystified by this interaction. 

“Can’t say I’ve spent much time listening to it, personally,” he lies, because he has in fact obsessed over that heartbeat’s health and stability since first finding out about its unusualness and has done a truly aggravating amount of research into heart murmurs and conditions and the like. But that’s hardly Superman’s business, now is it. 

“. . . what’s his name?” Superman asks hesitantly. Lex is possibly having an out of body experience. 

“Experiment Thirteen,” he says. Superman immediately looks offended. 

“We need to give him a name, Lex,” he says. Lex, again, has an out of body experience. 

“‘We’?” he repeats incredulously. “I made it, I get to decide what it’s called.” 

“He’s got my DNA!” Superman protests, looking indignant. Lex has absolutely no idea how to process that expression. 

“It has both our DNA, in fact, yours was too irritating to stabilize alone,” Lex informs him dubiously. More accurately it was literally impossible to stabilize alone, but he’s not mentioning that to Superman. “So it has my DNA, and I made it. And also put eight point two billion dollars into its production, as a lowball estimate. Therefore I’m the one who decides what its name is, thank you very much.” 

“Lex,” Superman says disapprovingly. “You can’t call a baby Experiment Thirteen.” 

“It’s physiologically developed enough to complain if it doesn’t like it,” Lex retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. Superman frowns at him. Lex has never had a more ridiculous conversation with the man, including all the times Superman’s tried to appeal to his nonexistent “better nature”. “Well it is.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Superman says, then ducks back down and peers at Experiment Thirteen again, gentling his voice to address it while Lex is still incredulously mouthing “ridiculous”? to himself. “Would you like a real name, kiddo?” 

Experiment Thirteen sticks its tongue out at him. 

Lex is finding parenthood to be a very rewarding experience, actually. 

[writingoddess1125]

The Buggy Twins as Adults pt. 2 🤡 🤡

Art by Vamos_MK check them out on Twitter!

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Check out the rest of The Old Man Series

• When the guys get their incredibly high bounty they realize quickly- They actually need a crew and ship.

• It was only the blessings of some sick God that was keeping them alive and pure stupid luck. But they needed a ship-

• Which for them was easier said then done.

• In truth Buggy had gifted them a ship when they first set sail- However it burned down after Bee was trying to make a new bomb and it quite literally exploded it his face-

• Which was what lead them to the Marine Base, which was also accidently exploded by you guest it- Bee

• So a ship was needed Pronto

Dee looked over the maps to the nearest village, their small dingy bobbing him side to side as he looked over his compass.

"This is so fucking stupid-" He groaned, looking to his brother who was snoring barely a foot from him. Dee kicking his brother hard on the shin making his twin shoot up in surprise.

"Hey watch it!-" Bee grumbled as he glared at his brother, fixing the hat on his head as he saw Dee glare at him.

"Watch it my ass- We need a real fucking ship yesterday. How come you manage to blow up a damn navel base but can't find a proper ship!?" He screamed as his brother shrugged it off in a lazy matter.

"Lucky!? We have a 500,000,000 berry on our head and no God damn ship! We are fucked"

"Lucky I guess?-" Bee said which made Dee damn near blow a fuse.

"Well maybe we don't have to be-"

Bee said with a smirk as he pointed ahead, Seeing a growing mass right in the distance. Dee's eyes widened at this, looking at the map in confusion.

"Wait- There are no islands for at least another day or two what is that?-"

Bee smirked at this as he winked at his twin.

"It's a floating military base dear brother. Aka our ticket to supplies and a ship-"

• The twins despite better judgment rowed their little dingy to the side of the massive tanker and climbed up- Thanks to Dee's devil fruit abilties.

• Bee whistled at the sight of her, She was hot to say the least- Long red hair and face that was soft and delicate paired with the guns at her hip he wondered if she was good with her han-

• In truth it was far easier then they expected-

• The twins slinked through the ship, Fortunate that they were able to disguise themselves far better as it just required removing their makeup and stashing the fake red nose in their pockets. Deciding shirtless was better since they looked like lazy cadets who had rolled out of bed-

• Snagging a few hats and rushing with other groups they separated. Bee to make a distraction and Dee to find some supplies and hopefully take over the ship.

• Bee walked through the corridors of the ship, hiding in random spots to hopefully get to the helm.

• She turned the corner and he realized she was sneaking around too... deciding that it was best to leave her be.

• He had other things to do anyway-

• Dee went down below and saw that the ship was towing another- clearly a captured pirate ship of sorts. Which ment there was a crew on board.

Going down to the brig he snuck through, his head lowered like some cadet who was terrified. Glancing about he noted the lazed security, sneaking in he didn't see a whole crew but instead a lone guy chained up- each arm chained seperate and he had clearly been well beaten.

"If you're here to try again you aren't getting squat- You hit like a girl" He stranger grumbled-

"No im not a Marine- I'm not going to do whatever they've done to you" Dee said calmly, glancing around to look for keys.

"Is that your ship they are towing?" Dee questioned, the man glancing up and he saw yellow for a split second.

"Yes?.."

"If I get you out of here, can we all use your ship to go? Me and my brother need one" Dee admitted, feeling like honesty was the best option.

"Whats you and your brothers name?" He questioned.

"Dee and Bee... the Buggy Twins" He heard the man snort a laugh at this and nodded in agreement to the terms.

Dee stared at the man, Hesitant for only a moment before pulling out two pins from his hair and cracking the cage open. Starting on each arm of the chain to get him out, till pausing when he felt cold metal touch his head.

"Woah Woah-" Here helping Dee said calmly, glancing to see some red head girl pointing the gun at his face.

"Hold it Vi- He's with us.." The black haired man said quickly.

"Besides I'm Bullet Proof so let's lower the gun. We can all board the ship and get out of here before we get executed? Sound like a Deal?" Dee said quickly.

She lowered the gun quickly and sighed- "And here I thought you were anti-social Alu.." She said with a roll of his eyes. "This is Vivian, my gunner and hopefully first mate" The prisoner introduced as Dee finished taking off his final restraints.

The red head rolled her eyes "In your dreams... and Let's go-"

• The trio ran through the corridors. Hiding whenever solider passed them by and keeping low-

• However it seemed they were having better luck then the other twin. While had found himself at the haul of the ship all right- along with the Vice-Admiral of the ship.

"H-Hey There Cap just passing throu-" She cut him a look and held a hand up up.

"That is by far the worse get up of a pirate sneaking on my ship... are you stupid?" She questioned.

Bee stared at the Vice-Admiral watching as she pulled a sword and glared at him, noting he didnt even have a chance to lie.

"Fucking Pirates.. getting lazier by the day" She hissed at his idiocy, blade raised already to cut him down but he held up his hands with a dazzling smile.

"Woah Woah- before you off me Wanna see a magic trick?" Bee said with a wink making the women look at him comfused- Before in less then a second he pulled put 3 balls suddently and tossed them her way, her immediate reaction to swipe them away with her sword that was till mid air she saw the skulls painted on them.

"Shit-!"

BOOM!-

• The trio jumping from the massive ship to the lower towed away ship- As they Fell Vivian shooting at the rope connecting them to seperate.

• As the exposition hit the trio heard it and the alarms that rang out. Dee grabbing the two of them quickly already knowing it was his twin

• "MOVE Move!" He yelled as they went to the back of the ship were the smaller pirate vessel was being towed.

"GO GO! NOW!" Vi screamed as the three started to set sail to get as far away as possible.

The Marines seeing this as the sounds of Marines yelling 'THE PRISONER IS ESCAPING' Sounded and gunfire rang out from the Marines trying to shoot at them.

"DONT FORGET ME YOU ASSHOLES!" Bee screamed as the Marines shot behind him- soot covering his face as he clearly was caught in the explosion. Swan diving onto the smaller ship face first into solid wood. But it was better then being shot at!

• The prisoner helping the other blue haired teen to his feet-

• "Did you cause that fucking explosion?" He questioned as the twin of the man who saved him groaned and nodded.

• "Not spooky dude.. Alucare.. Dracule Alucare" He dark haired man grumbled, pushing back his dark locks as he looked at the twins. Both seeing the undeniable yellow eyes of the famed pirate lord son.

• "Damn right spooky dude.." Bee groaned out, The prisoner sighing as he helped him up.

• Canon fire rocking the ship as they all yelled and tried to stay put. As the ship groaned and creaked from the attack- Vivian jumping up quickly to help set the sails to get the ship moving faster.

• "Dracule? Like Mihawk? Holy shit dude your dad is like super famous!" Bee said in shock, Alucare shrugging at this. "Same goes with you.. The Buggy Twins, sons of a Yonko and having 500,000,000 Berry for the both of you. Not bad" The two men nodding in agreement of fluffing egos.

• Vivian rolling her eyes at both of them.

• "Wait how were you even arrested? You and your family are kind bad asses?" Bee questioned amused, The dark haired man sighing heavily.

• "Better term would be hunted down-" Alucare grumbled, rolling his shoulder with a heavy sigh.

• "Hunted? By who man!?" Bee yelled, Alucare glancing back at the massive ship thay they were sailing away from- Clearly the explosive damage from the Buggy Twins forcing the Marine Boat to stop for repairs completely and forcing the pirates to sail on woth minimum damage.

• "By her-" Alucare explained as he pointed out to the massive ship and the person who was clearly fuming standing at the front of the ship, Dressed in ger vice admiral uniform she glared hard down at the group of small time pirates- Fist clenched over her sword as she knew it was foolish to chase them.

• "The youngest and probably most brutal Vice-Admiral in history.. Lyra Beckman-" Alucare said with a hearty sigh- Bee jaw dropping.

• "WE FINALLY HAVE A CREW!" Bee yelled as the rest stared at the Clown, even Dee rolling his eyes.

• "Fuck dude-"

• "Fuck indeed... Now let's get some distance before she decides killing me is more important then ship repairs"

• They all agreed and began to haul ass away- until they were sure they were safe enough from the ship and it was a dot in the horizon. Vi glaring at Alucare before tossing a wrapped bundle at him, Opening it to glance and see some clothes and his sword.

• "Don't expect me to rescue you again-" She said shortly. Alucare brushing her off as he went to get changed.

• Bee took note of this- A swordsman... a Gunner.. his brother as a Navigator-

• "We are not a crew!" They all yelled at him.

[megxplryxb]

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Minors DNI 18+ Warnings: Flirting, Mentions of smut but no actual smut

Summary: Your best friend Robin wants you to come work at Scoops Ahoy with her but when she realises you’re totally hot for her cute coworker, she quickly changes her mind about the whole thing.

“So, have you thought any more about applying for the position here?” Robin asks excitedly, handing you your plain vanilla ice cream with sprinkles as you sit on the counter to keep her company during the final hour before closing.

She’d been trying to get you to quit your job at the arcade ever since Scoops Ahoy put an advert in the local paper looking for another member to add to the team.

“As fun as I’m sure it would be to work with my best friend, I don’t think I can.” You frown as her brows knit together.

“What, why not? We’d have such a blast!” She says, trying her best to convince you.

“I know we would Rob, but I just don’t think it’d be the best idea.” You shrug, licking your ice cream, moving your eyes from your friend to her extremely cute coworker who was sitting at a table, conversing with a group of kids.

She scanned your face for a moment wondering what it was that would stop you from wanting to work with her but then she noticed you biting the corner of your lip and the small blush that was slowly creeping onto your cheeks.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. Dingus? You like DINGUS?” She shouts loudly as you shush her, placing a hand over her mouth as Steve and the kids look up to see what all the commotion was about.

“Jeez Robs, say it louder why don’t you?” You giggle as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I just… it’s Steve you know? I mean, does the sailor outfit really do it for you?” She winces, not really wanting to know your answer but you reply anyway.

“It’s not necessarily the uniform per se, it’s what’s underneath the uniform that I’m interested in. But now that you mention it, his ass does look pretty good in those shorts.” You smirk, taking another lick of vanilla.

“Please stop.” She gags as you let your head fall back, laughing again.

“What are you two ladies talking about?” Steve questions, brows raised suspiciously as he walks toward the counter again, taking extra note of the bold grin spread across your face.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing!” Robin quickly answers, shooting you a warning glare.

Steve tries to ask you what was going on, seeing the way his friend was looking at you but his thoughts get lost as he watches your tongue swirl around the melting ice cream. He swallows hard, eyes dropping to your low cut T-shirt when he sees a drop of ice cream running down your cleavage.

“Um, you got a little...” He points, his Adams apple bobbing as your finger catches the droplet before it disappeared between your pushed up breasts.

“Oh, thanks Steve.” You smile sweetly before placing the tip of your finger between your lips to suck it clean, hypnotising the boy standing in front of you. Instantly, he’d removed his Scoops Ahoy hat, placing it over the front of his shorts, hoping neither of you noticed the slight predicament he was about to be in.

“Uh, ye-yeah, sure, no problem.” He breathes, walking into the back room as Robin rolls her eyes at you both.

“Fifty bucks says he’s gone to jerk off in the bathroom after that little display.” Robin scrunches her nose as you turn to look at her.

“Maybe I should go help him out?” You suggest, waiting for her reaction.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” She says, placing her head on the counter.”

“Of course I am.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you finish off your ice cream. “Honestly though, I’d never get anything done working with him. He’s so fucking hot.” You gush as Robin covers her ears.

“I’m not listening! Lalalalalala.”

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, playfully nudging her.

“Oh I’m sorry that I don’t want to listen to my best friend talk about fucking Steve Harrington’s brains out!” Robin exclaims, shaking her head again.

“So what? You talk about wanting to mess around with Tammy Thompson all the time!” You argued quietly knowing Robin hadn’t told anyone but you that she was into girls.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to work with Tammy!” She fought back but before you could respond, Steve was back behind the counter again.

“Hey Rob, don’t you have to return that sweater to the Gap store for your Mom?” You asked, smiling deviously at her.

“Oh yeah, I do. I’ll do it when we’re leaving.” She replied, glaring at you.

“But it’s Friday Rob, they close thirty minutes earlier than us.” Steve chimed in.

“Shit, yeah I totally forgot that. You wanna come with me?” Robin asked, eyes widening as you shook your head.

“No it’s ok, I’ll just keep Steve company.” You grinned, licking your lips at the boy as she gritted her teeth at you.

“I think he’ll be ok by himself for a couple of minutes, right ding—“

“So, you thinking of applying for the job here?” Steve asks, rubbing the back of his neck as Robin sighs heavily, grabbing the sweater and walking away unbeknownst to either of you, muttering at you both to use protection as she left the store.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I mean, I know Robin really wants me to but I’m just not so sure.” You reply as he moves from behind the counter to walk closer towards you.

“That’s too bad, I think you would have been a great fit here.” He smiles as you tilt your head.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” You ask as he licks his lips before speaking.

“Well, I mean you’ve already got an advantage being friends with the two best ice cream slingers in Indiana for one, so training will be a total breeze. Plus, you’ve already got a shit load of experience with hyperactive children working at the arcade and well, something tells me you’d look pretty cute in the uniform too.” Steve flirts as you playfully nudge him.

“I don’t think I’d pull it off as good as you do, Steve.” You reply as he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah, my ass does look pretty good in these shorts, right?” He challenges as your eyes widen, trying to hold back a smile.

“You totally heard.”

“I totally did.” He grins, moving closer again as you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I stand by my observation, you do have a great ass.”

“Thanks, honey.” He says, gazing at you with a look that sends a lightening bolt straight to your core. “So, there’s no way I could convince you to join the team, huh?”

“What’d you have in mind, Harrington?” You ask as he steps in between your legs, closing the space between you.

“Well sweetheart, I’m a pro at oral persuasion. I’m pretty sure I could get you to come aboard.” He whispers, hovering over your lips and you desperately want him to kiss you.

“Are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re practically screwing on the counter!” Robin yells as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Jesus Robin, we were not screwing!” Steve defends as she shoots you both a look of distain.

“You would have been if I hadn’t walked in on you. Shame on you, this is a family friendly business!” She teases as you roll your eyes. “Relax Buckley, the place is empty.”

“Well I’m not losing my job because dingus can’t keep his dick in his pants around pretty girls! In fact, we’re leaving right now because you two can’t be trusted with each other!”

“Hey, wait a minute, we haven’t even cleaned up yet Robin!” Steve argues as his colleague brushes past him and into the back room to grab her stuff.

“You should have thought about that before you tried to get into my friend’s pants. Later dingus!” She waves, grabbing your hand as you wink at Steve, blowing him a teasing kiss.

“Shit.” He sighs, putting a hand through his hair as he walked behind the counter again. It was only then that he noticed the small sticky note with your name and number on it, a little love heart drawn after the message: Call me x

Steve smiled at the note, placing it in his pocket for safe keeping as he made his way into the back room. He walked over to Robin’s data board, finally drawing a line under the You Rule section before heading back out to quickly clean and close up, because he couldn’t wait to call you when he got home.

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

05. Time is a bargaining tool

Time is a bargaining tool.

Scara knew that.

“You want me to feature on your album?” You repeated Scara’s words, beginning to doubt your ability to hear, “Do you realize how risky that is?”

Scara bobbed his head with pleased a expression etched on his face as if his words weren’t weighted with worry, “That’s why I asked you if you were ready to take a risk.”

You stood up, unable to sit still, now pacing across the room. Bambi must have sensed your unease, because he too, started following you while rubbing himself against your legs, “On a normal occasion, I wouldn’t mind. But you’re playing with two careers here. I might sound frustrating, refusing your offer, but don’t blame me for being realistic.”

“When have I ever cared about reputations?”

You fought the urge to smack him back into his senses.

“Never, but you’re in an industry where the public’s opinion can change the trajectory of the career you’ve established for years.”

And I don’t want you to go through that as well.

“We’re not puppets.”

“That’s debatable.”

Scara sighed, tousling his hair once again—his nervous habit, “We shouldn’t let them control us.”

It’s easier said than done.

But you understood where he was coming from.

You faced him, offering your utmost sincerity, “I don’t want to drag you in my mess. Nor do I want to cause more trouble than necessary.”

Silence engulfed the room. You glanced over at your friend. He’s deep in thought, gaze intense, expression unreadable. But you knew he was scheming, thinking of ways to persuade you—anything to assure you that all’s well, ends well.

Because what Scara wants, Scara gets.

“How long is your hiatus?”

You shrugged your shoulder and decided to sit back down. Bambi trailed you as he leaped up the bed and onto your lap. Clingy cats are the best, “I don’t know, but they’ll probably kick me out before it’s over. I have less than three months left, anyway.”

“What if we use this opportunity?”

“What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, “Tell your story. Your silence leaves for more assumptions to grow.”

“I would if they let me use my voice. I was planning to wait until my contract is up to take legal actions.”

He tilted his head, “Why can’t you now?”

“Because they’re silencing me. Especially since my accuser is from the same company,” You deadpanned, stating the obvious, a detail he may have forgotten.

Scaramouche scoffed in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head in disapproval, “But they’re willing to throw you under the bus and take her side over you?”

“Which is why I don’t want to be responsible for ruining the career you’ve built for years. Even my friends are receiving unnecessary hate just because they’re connected to me.”

“So it’s a lost cause?”

You nodded.

“Can you…” Scara hesitated, wondering if he should continue, “Can you think it over some more? At least until your hiatus is up?”

You crossed your arms, failing to hide the faint smile creeping across your lips, “You sound desperate.”

“Enjoying my misery?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll win you over, just wait.”

Time is a bargaining tool.

You realized that.

Notes:

“We’re not puppets.” Haha so about that

another update cause i feel bad for ghosting 🫡

hope you all enjoy :))

i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you (bolded = couldn’t tag)

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

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