#but brain go brrrrrrrrrrr

[nomsfaultau]

13) “Give me your hands” and 22) Survivior’s guilt. 

Disclaimer: this blurb is set in the SCP SBI AU I have called Fault, and dances over the timeline so good luck. Explanation of AU; tldr. 

“Give me your hands.” The stranger’s voice was gruff and demanding, and Tommy complied at once. It wasn’t that he was intimidated! Sure the random demon he’d summoned was massively tall, extremely strong, and just killed a lot of people, but Tommy was an alpha male! And anyway, the bloke technically saved his life in the barest sense of the word, so he had to be a good guy. Nevermind that Tommy watched people be reduced to smears running down the walls. They were villains. That was what they deserved. Right?

Tommy held a little stiller than he preferred, acutely aware of how easily the boar hero’s fists crunched skulls in. But the enormous hooves were surprisingly gentle as they held Tommy’s hands, prodding in their examination. His hero adjusted his dorky glasses and peered closer, curiously studying the strange crimson color curling around Tommy’s fingers. Blood mixed into the ruby power dancing across Tommy’s palms, indistinguishable. 

The Blade hadn’t been the only one killing the villains. 

“...huh. I’m guessing this red stuff is what summoned me?” 

“I think so? Do you know what it is?” 

His hero grunted. “I was hoping you’d know that.”

“Nah, it only showed up a few minutes before you did.” Tommy studied his own hands just as intensely. With great concentration, he tried to get the swirling scarlet liquid to grow. Then, to disappear. It ignored him, and he frowned, not sure how the power worked. Wait. “WAIT! I have superpowers now?!”

The Blade squinted at the boy. “Uhhhhhh. Suuuuure?” Tommy pumped his fist in the air rather excitedly. He had to admit it was kinda cute even if he wasn’t a kid person. “Probably don’t tell anyone, alright?” he hazarded, suddenly a little worried the twerp was going to get himself nabbed immediately. This kid needed to shift away from Marvel to X-Men fast if he was going to survive.

“Yes! Like a secret identity! So you’re a superhero, right?” Tommy peered up hopefully. The crimson hitched upwards. “Right? Those guys were villains because they tried to murder me. That’s why you killed them, right?” There was almost a note of desperation to the question.

“Um. No.” The Blade pretty much murdered them because he was suddenly teleported into a hostile situation and was immediately attacked. Self-defense, baby. 

The ruby power spiked then, the scent of fear sharpening. But then bull-headed determination flashed in his eyes. “A vigilante then, that makes sense. Like Batman. Hey! And now I can join you and save people too! You can be my sidekick.”

“Wait hold on, no, you’re MY sidekick, not the other way around,” The Blade argued before realizing that meant he inadvertently supported Tommy’s absurd notion. He was a survivor, he didn’t have time to be a savior. If the kid wanted to read any morality into his actions that was their problem. 

“Ok. I’ll train under you until I’m too powerful and surpass you completely, and THEN you’ll be my sidekick.” For some reason, the voices didn’t feel threatened by his open intention to usurp him. Weird. For once in his life The Blade was getting zero intrusive thoughts about brutally murdering the dude he was talking to. It was kinda relaxing actually. 

Tommy held out a fist, and after belated realizing it wasn’t a (very wimpy) attack The Blade completed the fist bump. Tommy beamed at The Blade. “Thanks for saving me.” 

It was…strange. No one had ever thanked him for something like that before. And sure he’d really only incidentally saved the boy through a combination of weird coincidences, otherworldly machinations beyond their comprehension, and the fact something about Tommy’s power literally prevented him from even contemplating attacking him, but The Blade did have to admit it felt pretty nice. 

Nice, but not the reason his tail was wagging. Nope, not at all. That was all post-bloodlust high. Definitely. 

.

“Give me your hands.” Mum smiled as she said it, but it made trepidation build in Tommy’s gut. 

Tommy fixed his smile, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, you’re so clingy. I’m not a kid anymore!” 

“You’re fifteen—”

“Only for a few more weeks! I’m practically an ad-” Deviously, she lunged for his hands and he jerked back sharply. “Don’t,” he yelped a little too desperately. Tommy gulped, trying to swallow his panic. “Don’t do that I have a- have a reputation to maintain Mum, can’t be doing cheesy girly stuff like hand holding haha.” 

“Tommy-” her tone was far, far too serious as he retreated. 

“I’ll get a hold of it eventually, just give me some time. We’re working on it.” Tommy was a little frustrated he hadn’t figured out how to control his powers yet, but all the other guys said it took a while so that was okay. At least it didn’t work on The Blade or Philza. The same couldn’t be said for Wilbur, which was really bad. It just made him bicker with the others, which, while funny, still meant he couldn’t control the Red. Tommy didn’t know what had made it so lethal in the villain encounter, but he needed to find out before he risked getting someone hurt. 

He’d find a way to use it for good, though. One way or another, Tommy was going to be a hero.

“What does your power do?”

Tommy laughed nervously. “Sorry, that’s confidential hero stuff, Mum.” 

Tommy refused to tell her what happened in that room. Her baby boy witnessed -enacted?- a massacre and that wasn’t something that would ever be undone. He went in normal and came out with blood permanently fresh on his hands. All she knew was a haunted look came across him in quiet moments, and she didn’t trust the new ‘friends’ he’d made in the aftermath, and he absolutely refused to touch anyone. 

She reached up carefully to avoid his hands, craning his head down till their foreheads touched. For all that she had to rise to her tiptoes to meet him, Tommy was still her little boy. He’d grown a lot in the last year, and even more so on that dreadful day his powers showed up, but she’d never stop seeing that golden-haired child with his mischievous, gaptoothed smile and dirt staining the knees of his pants. 

“Just talk to me when you’re ready, okay? And if those men try anything I’ll destroy them.” 

Tommy’s laugh was far brighter this time. “Mum! You wouldn’t stand a chance! Besides, The Blade and his friends are nice.” 

Scruffy was the word she would use. She’d vetted them, of course, she wasn’t going to just let her son lose with complete strangers and just trust he came home safe. The Blade was intimidating, but a dork. That Wilbur fellow was just a hopelessly broke musician as far as she could tell, though had a worrisome collection of scars. She respected Philza to some degree though, since he had an ounce of manners. Hopefully, he’d keep the others in line. 

“Tommy. You’re spending hours with homeless people, I have every right to be concerned.” Still, they were the only ones with any idea of how to help Tommy explore the new aspects of his identity. Unfortunately, Tommy’s mother was the supportive type, and was trying to give him room to experiment despite her reservations. 

“You’re always worried though.” 

She pressed a kiss into his forehead. “With a brat like you, I have to be.” He pulled a face, feathers ruffled at the utter indignity of affection. But she let gravity seep into her tone. “I know it scares you. But I know you’ll do the right thing, you’re a good kid at heart. Okay? This isn’t going to change anything.”

.

But it did. 

Tommy had been abducted and locked in a padded room for days now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He wanted his mum. In Tommy’s books, that was a pathetic thought for a sixteen-year-old to have, but it was true, he wanted to see his parents so bad it hurt. He wanted his friends. Or even not his friends, random people at school, hell even people he didn’t get along with so long as it was a face he recognized. Or even one he didn’t. At this point, Tommy would settle for one of the freaky scientists or soldiers just so there would be someone to talk to. Or, more accurately, shout at and demand answers from. Like, were they villains, where the hell was he, what did they want, why did they kidnap him…

And then someone finally entered the room. Or, more aptly, the guns entered before the squad of soldiers, so Tommy actually found it suddenly easy to continue saying nothing at all. His hands shot up in the air in surrender, scarlet ribbons of liquid dancing around him. 

“Cease the threat display,” a guard barked. 

The power only poured out further. “It doesn’t- I don’t control it, it won’t-” he was ordered to be silent. Tommy had never been good at that, but he managed, biting down questions. Doctors circled like vultures, and he had the strangest premonition shivering down his spine. He felt like a lamb being inspected for imperfections before the slaughter.  

“Give me your hands.” Gloves were dropped into his outstretched palms. Thick, sturdy, and frankly pretty ugly. Tommy had no idea how deeply he’d come to despise them. In fact, Tommy had very little idea of anything, head still caught in the little stories people liked to tell. Lies about powerful heroes rescuing civilians, or good triumphing over evil, or the world caring about people like him. 

“Um. What are the gloves for?”

The guard grinned. “So you can’t fight back.” 

.

The demon was tall and slender with bright white eyes and a literal beam of a smile. He seemed nice. That was the problem, the Foundation always sent Tommy to meet the nice ones so that he could fix that. 

Tommy approached cautiously, carefully weighing threats between the D-Class prisoners behind him and the towering demon ahead. Anomalies were safe at first though, and Tommy knew exactly how to protect himself now. And if he were honest, Tommy didn’t want to get to know the D-Class before their imminent execution. It only made the nightmares worse. 

“Hi!” the demon chirped. “I’m Halo! Wow, I haven’t seen someone new in…” he trailed off uncertainly, a faint furrow of his brow. But he shrugged quickly enough. “A couple years I guess. Sorry, they think I’m boring. No one really pays attention to me anymore. Not violent enough to be interesting I guess. They certainly tried, though.” Tommy caught the flash of horror flickering across glowing eyes. He knew that pressure intimately given how he’d broken beneath it. Still, Tommy perked a little, not expecting the hope. A sour consolation, but neglect had to be far better than cruel attention. Maybe one day he’d be left alone too. 

“I’m…” he swallowed roughly. “I’m the Instigator, I guess. I’m the newest attempt.”  

“Begin threat assessment test,” came a strict voice over a com system.  

At Tommy’s wince, Halo gave him a reassuring smile and a snort. “Don’t worry about that. These muffin-heads have been trying to get me to murder people for years and I’ve yet to break.” Tommy…didn’t have that kind of strength. He didn’t know how Halo had endured it. 

All he knew was that was finally ending today. 

“Instigator, give it your hands,” ordered the overseeing worker. He could feel the eyes of observers for all that he couldn’t see them. 

“Ignore them. What’s your story?” Halo asked. “I haven’t talked to anyone in ages, what’s it like? Are you a recent capture? Do you remember the outside still?” 

Tommy glanced nervously at the observation window. But he was almost just as desperate for conversation. “I’ve been here a few weeks. And. And I miss trees. It’s weird, but I miss how tall they were. Like, because that meant there was space, not these cramped cells and hallways.”

“Yes! And the sky! Oh how I miss the freedom of the sky,” he sighed, dark wings flaring out. 

“Stars,” Tommy added. “Just scattered out, millions of them. And people, everywhere, and you can just talk to them and they’re nice, not like here at all. I just want to m̵̮̙͗u̷̺̦̇̀f̷̟̀̄̈́f̶̯̯̈́̍̀i̸͕̭͎̅̌n̶͔̣̭̏ing talk to someone, you know?”  

“Language,” the demon chided, barbed tail lashing. “But yes. Listen, this is important, did you know a guy called Skep-”

“Give it your hands,” the human demanded. “Or you’ll be wearing gloves the next three days.” 

Tommy went sheet white, rigid to the point of breaking. Halo gave him an odd look, awkward but politely sympathetic if utterly confused. He looked to the observation window. “I’m, erm, guessing that’s some type of punishment?” Tommy nodded, relieved someone understood. But of course Halo would, hadn’t held out for years against the Foundation’s demands? 

It was his kindness that betrayed him. Halo bent to his level, hand outstretched. “Well alright then. Don’t want that happening of course! It’s okay, just do what they say.” He didn’t understand what was about to happen. Tommy did, though. But Tommy had made this choice before. It was easier afterwards, took a little less coercion each time once you’d crossed that threshold. He knew he was selfish, prioritizing himself over other’s lives, but once you made that choice you made it again, and again, and again. 

He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat. “I’m sorry,” Tommy shoved it out fast like that was any type of salvation. Tentatively, he reached for Halo’s talons, grasping firmly. 

The executor shook hands with his weapon. Crimson seeped from their joined grasp. 

Halo’s friendly smile dropped. This close, Tommy could make out the sharp fangs hidden amidst white glow. The demon stalked past to the chained prisoners, sharp words ringing out. Condemnation hissed out, giving way to shouts, to anger, to violence. 

Tommy was told that the D-Class deserved it. Death row inmates, the vilest of humanity. Tommy’s arms wrapped around himself, frenzied scarlet curling around, spreading, exacerbating. Halo’s snarls gurgled through thick viscera, visceral ripping noises rending the humans apart. The Foundation said they deserved it, just like they said Tommy deserved to wear gloves when he disobeyed or get hit whenever he wouldn’t stop talking, begging, screaming. He kept his back carefully to the unfolding slaughter, eyes squeezed shut. Pretending he couldn’t hear the ragged howls of agony. 

Pretending he couldn’t hear the way Halo started to sob the moment the bloodlust faded.

.

The air was dusty as Tommy climbed into the abandoned hayloft, clambering over to where Tubbo perched. His nose wrinkled, still unused to all the various smells of the outside world. It was still startling how much world was in the world, overwhelming at times but exhilarating always. 

Tommy scooted over to sit as close to Tubbo as he dared, distance carefully calculated to keep them safe. His legs swung back and forth over the edge of the loft, his friends scattered below, happy and free. 

Tubbo waved at him, looking excited. There was a strange intentionality to the gesture, exaggerated. But Tommy couldn’t blame them for that. He wasn’t a stranger to pretending everything was normal. The escape was…rough, to put it mildly, let alone the horrors of the Foundation. It felt nice to laugh even if it was a tad forced at times. But it made the next one easier, so it had to be worth it. 

“Give us your hands.” 

Red spasmed along his arms. Tommy leaned away, unpleasant memories flickering in his head. Given the fact that Tubbo was unique (a word which here means ‘made out of hundreds of thousands of bees’), Red didn’t work traditionally. Mostly, it resulted in pure self-destruction. Tommy shuddered to remember the way Tubbos’ skin tore apart as frenzied insects slaughtered themselves. Not something he was in a hurry to repeat. 

“No, it’ll explode your hands,” Tommy said, not knowing that was exactly what Tubbo wanted. 

They gave him a sweet smile, half crooked. “It’ll be fine, Tommy. We won’t get Red’d, we just want to compare our hands. Our grandpa always said big hands meant you were going to grow up to be tall, kinda like puppy paws.”

Tommy scoffed. “Well I already know I’m going to be massive, and anyway it’s not worth the risk.” 

“We’ll be careful. But if you think ours are that much bigger, that’s fair. You still only have kid hands after all~”

“No! I’m basically an adult! Just…hold still, I guess…” Tommy approached cautiously, still conflicted but splaying ruby fingers out to match their own hand. The fingers shook a little from the tension poured through them, little curls of Red unfurling off the back of his hand like sprouts poking through topsoil. Tubbo slipped their own close, lining up the newly finished digits to match the angle of his. Tommy’s fingers were longer than their own, stockier, his palms broader. They hovered closer and closer, shrinking the gap. “Hah! See! I told you. Um, that’s close enough, I think.”

“We can see from a bunch more angles than you can, Tommy. We’ll know if it's too close.” He flashed a nervous smile, but trusted Tubbo. Still, it felt wrong to tempt himself like this. It took just about everything he had to not lace their fingers together and pull his best friend into a tight hug. Just…hold Tubbo, feel the buzzing warmth of life and the purr of bees working within their hollow body. 

A quiet cage around his heart forbade him from ever reaching out. Tommy couldn’t touch almost anyone in the entire world. It felt near suffocating at times to yearn for something regardless of how disastrous Tommy knew the consequences would be. 

It didn’t occur to Tommy that some people welcomed disaster. 

Tommy’s fingers curled in slightly, unconsciously wanting to close around Tubbos’. Closer, closer, till they were almost touching…

.

“I’ve done some really, really awful things, Phil.” But it didn’t stop Philza’s arm from wrapping around his back and drawing Tommy in. If he were honest, he didn’t want it to. Tommy melted into the embrace for all that he didn’t deserve it. 

“I know,” Philza murmured, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That doesn’t mean you’re evil. The world isn’t heroes and villains, Tommy.” 

“Okay then I’m a bad guy.” Philza rolled his eyes. “I mean with a power like this what else could I be? I’m a baddie. A wrongun. A ‘malignant, misbegotton ne’re-do-well of a knave’–” Tommy sang, rattling off the old man insults Philza sometimes fell into when he got angry and forgot what century it was. 

“Stop deflecting and give me your hands,” Philza interjected. Tommy griped at him for being rude, but relented easily. Philza cupped Tommy’s hands in his own, reverent almost. 

“If you’re going to try to say there isn’t really blood on my hands don’t even m̷͙̞̈͋ư̵͍̬̒͝ͅf̶̡͉̽f̶͇̬͌í̵̻͇̺n̵̛̛̠ing try it. We both know that’s a lie.” Red spasmed, tendrils looping around Philza’s talons. 

“But your hands aren’t evil. They are simply hands. Red is the exact same. Power doesn’t possess its own morality, that’s up to the weilder. Your power isn’t evil, and neither are-”

“For you, maybe. Anyone else and it’s just brainwashing bloodlust.” He’d been stupid for ever thinking he could save anyone. 

“You can have precautions without having terror.”

“I can’t control it. I’ve tried so, so hard, and I just can’t. All it’s done is ruin my life.”

“The Foundation did that, not the Red, and most certainly not you. Surviving doesn’t make you evil.” Philza lifted Tommy’s hand, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. “I hope one day you can find love for every part of yourself.”

[nousanti]

deal me in one more time jimbo just one more run

[gravehags]

tobias didn’t keep the leather outfit for copia because it would have killed me

[naffeclipse]

so i don't know if you've watched lucifer or if spoilers would be an issue - if the latter is the case, best to stop reading this now and delete this ask. because i had a sleuth jesters thought based on season 3

too bad ask read mores aren't a thing

but yeah in season 3 there's marcus pierce/ cain as the new lieutenant as well as a sinnerman, a crime boss so obscure he's considered a myth. and it made me think... eclipse, so deeply hidden within the web of crime, actually working as the police departments chief. the only people who know and are opposing him (despite his so kind reminders how much easier and safer for them all things would be if only they fell in line) are his brothers, working right there under his thumb and struggling against it, and the vigilante, who now has renewed motivation to evade law enforcement (most of it, at least, and their favoritism drives eclipse up the wall)

thought its a fun twist to combine mob boss and police chief, so wanted to share - even deep in another hyperfixation your blorbos are on my mind 💜 hope you have a good day, have a hydration check!

Heya, Luce! It's so good to see you in my inbox, ahhh! <333

OHHH! I've watched a few episodes of Lucifer but this?! AHH! I LOVE IT! Combining the Police Chief and Mob Boss is so sinister and brings a whole new level of stakes to the detectives and the vigilante! The power and control Eclipse would wield is frightening and encompassing, and everywhere the vigilante turns, Eclipse uses the law or the underground to get to them! Of course, he can't force them to appreciate him like they appreciate their two favorite detectives. Still, he has most opportunities to get the vigilante in handcuffs and thrown into a jail cell for a friendly interrogation, or rather, another chance to extend his offer to join him. They could be a police officer and have all the privileges in the city working directly underneath him. Wouldn't that be beneficial to everyone? They're right by the detectives, Eclipse keeps them close, and the vigilante no longer has to run from the law. Take the offer, sweetheart.

But the vigilante only has two hands and refuses to wear more than one hat, and it's not part of a uniform in a corrupted police force.

[olgipolgi]

𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓵𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓪𝓽 𝓾𝓼, 𝔀𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓲𝓽 ❤️‍🔥

[bun-fish]

workin on some Stuff concerning The Hyperfixation

There is no turning back now. It is in Progress.

Bless u @noir-renard for bringing this wonderful story to us

[onlyseokmins]

A/N: don't even ask me where this came from I was doing dishes and had a THOT when I should be doing other things 😔 anyways tw: for degradation and slapping mostly just in case. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I might elaborate on this in an actual fic so getting this out of my system and archiving for later maybe 😉

Coworker Jeonghan who keeps sending not so subtle glances over at you during a company outing. Your secretary and best friend catches his action and snorts, shaking her head. Meanwhile, the giggling interns and newer employees you oversee all stare at you starstruck, their respectable senior, for also catching the attention of such a handsome man.

"How do you know him?" they flock to you and ask, although they're genuinely curious. "Do you know him or is he your secret admirer?"

"Not so secret now."

You glare at Mina. "We used to date in high school and well into college until he decided to take an offer overseas."

"So you're a couple?"

"We were. Obviously we broke up when LDR inevitably failed."

The promising new hire you've been keeping an eye on sighs wistfully. "Old flames never die, do they?"

"We're just coworkers. Acquaintances even. We both agreed to split on amicable terms."

"You're so cool," they gush enthusiastically, "not to have feelings anymore and be so professional."

"As expected of our leader!"

"The ultimate role model in the office!"

You can't help but thrive off of their praise, clinking your glass of water to their alcoholic ones. You smile brightly with your best work attitude, ignoring the dark look Jeonghan is sending your way.

It doesn't matter because you know he'll meet you in the hotel after at precisely 10 'o clock. He's never late and hates to wait.

That's why you're ready by 9:55, sharp. Blouse unbuttoned and skirt riding past your ass, presenting yourself prettily on the bed. Dripping pussy soaking your tiny lace thong faces the door, the first thing Jeonghan sees when he barges through.

He sighs harshly through his nose, though grunts in approval at seeing you just how he likes. The first thing on the docket once you're within reach is to deliver a harsh slap across your ass. The sting makes you moan yet you're already seeing stars when he tears away the scrap of fabric barely concealing your puffy clit. Again.

"Sucking up all that praise from your juniors. What was it? Being calm and collected? Cool-headed? About me?" He scoffs. "A shame I'm the only one who knows the truth."

"I just bought that pair," you complain and try to conceal your smile when he slaps you again.

"Then don't act up," Jeonghan mutters. He frowns, knowing how much you're actually enjoying this and grips the back of your neck, urging you to rise up on your knees. Back flush against his chest, he whispers in your ear. "And tell me the truth."

"I'm a slut. I love being degraded."

"That's right," he drops you forward again, fingers brushing against your bare cunt. "And whose slut are you?"

"Yours."

"And who do you like being degraded by?"

"You!"

He smirks at your elated gasp, the pretty way your arch your back as when he eases a finger inside your warm pussy.

"And who jumped on me the minute my feet touched down on our home turf? Begged me to come apply to their company so I could fuck them like I never left inside their office? Every. Fucking. Lunch break."

He punctuates those last four winders by stuffing you full of his fingers, pausing so you'll answer him. Pussy already clenching at the memories of bouncing on his dick in your leather office chair during a conference call.

Poor Mina.

"Me!"

"That's right. Desperate whore. No one can satisfy this pathetic pussy better than I can, huh?"

"You're right," you sob out in ecstacy when he begins to slide his fingers back and forth only to leave your hole altogether.

Jeonghan moves from the side of the bed to the other and sits down, loosening his tie. He waits for you to crawl over like you know how to, despite your trembling limbs. Shaking hands already reaching for the zipper on his dress pants but he swats them away.

"Then prove I'm right. How much you want me always," he hisses and presses your mouth against the bulge of his dick hidden in his pants. "Take it out with your mouth, slut. If you're desperate enough, you'll be able to, won't you?"

You're already getting to work, eyes shining and focused on the prize. He sighs in relief when your lips wrap around him, running a hand through his blonde bangs.

"That's my pretty slut."

[blitzbuckz]

Goetias bad talking imps but my muse is just standing here like:

[captain-of-silvenar]

Hmmmmm, not me thinking about the melancholy that comes with knowing you're a Very Special Person, but being the only one of your kind at the moment. And then finding out that there is another one like you trapped in a realm of a Daedric Prince.

Regardless of your feelings on them, you can't help but see them and wonder if you can change them, make them better. Just so you aren't alone anymore in this alien and weird position you find yourself in that you didn't ask about.

I'm thinking about Yera and Miraak holding hand, lads.

[buckevantommy]

you're telling me they need a rescue chopper to search for a missing kid??? it's hen's idea and she goes in the chopper too??? alternate version with pilot tommy when????

[wolvenhour]

oh man I have not been this excited about writing a fic in literal ages!! mizu and taigen are really bringing it out of me

[imwritesometimes]

If you told me when I walked into a movie theater back in 2016 to watch a dysfunctional PI & professional bruiser crime solvers buddy comedy that it would become the media & niche ship that made me experience symptoms of the stigmata, clumb the walls of my enclosure, gnash my teeth, forever from that day forward, I would have thought you were huffing paint...

[serpentmessmer]

there is no rush greater than coming to a friend, saying "our ocs should fuck", them going "correct, lets discuss", coming back with "fuck it, wanna roleplay?", and then doing it

[the-painted-siren]

Shaking everything about the new DR episodes around in my mouth like a dog with a chew toy right now!!!

[spacebuck]

i enjoy writing i love writing i enjoy this i enjoy this i chose this

[finalslay]

@markedprey sent : Hands come to settle on his waist, feeling the strength of his core as his fingers would hook into his belt loops, closing what little space lingered between them as he met his gaze with a grin. "You did so good out there tonight... Real talented with that knife of yours..."

johnny  closes  the  gap  between  them,  and  eddie  cannot  help  the  smile  that  tugs  at  his  lips.  once  upon  a  time,  this  would  not  have  happened  willingly.  johnny  would  fight  and  resist  ;  he  would  deny  the  love  that  was  so  freely  offered  to  him.  now,  things  are  different.  his  bride  is  here  and  offers  herself  up  like  a  good  wife  should.  it  may  have  taken  time  and  a  bit  of  coaxing,  but  it  was  all  worth  it  in  the  end,  just  as  eddie  had  known  it  would  be  from  the  moment  he  first  laid  eyes  on  him. 

the  offered  compliments  do  wonders  for  his  ego  as  well.  johnny  knows  how  to  play  him,  knows  how  to  keep  his  husband  wrapped  around  his  finger  ...  and  eddie  is  not  an  idiot.  he  hears  it,  the  tone  in  which  the  other  speaks  ;  he  sees  the  wicked  grin  on  his  face,  feels  the  hands  on  his  body.  it  does  not  take  much  to  figure  out  where  this  is  going  (  and  he  would  be  a  fool  to  refuse  his  bride's  advances  ). 

“  why,  thank  you  very  much.  ”  his  own  arms  move  to  wrap  around  johnny's  frame,  holding  him  in  place  there  against  him.  there  is  no  escape,  not  tonight.  large  hands  slip  inside  the  back  pockets  of  his  jeans  ;  an  awfully  forward  gesture,  one  unbefitting  of  a  gentleman,  but  ...  the  time  for  propriety  has  passed,  has  it  not?  “  i  would  so  hate  for  you  to  be  left  unsatisfied,  after  all.  ”

despite  the  tone  of  casualness  he  speaks  in,  the  underlying  meaning  is  more  than  obvious.  the  larger  man  leans  down,  lips  brushing  against  johnny's  jawline  as  he  murmurs,  “  and  what  would  you  say  if  i  were  to  suggest  that  i  spend  the  rest  of  tonight  showing  you  some  of  the  other  talents  of  mine  that  you're  so  fond  of?  ” 

the  words  are  low  and  gravelly,  eddie  punctuating  the  question  by  squeezing  johnny's  ass  through  his  jeans.  as  always,  the  urge  to  take  him  and  lay  him  down  on  their  bed,  to  fill  him  up  and  make  him  scream  his  name,  is  ever  present  —  but  eddie  is  a  gentleman,  first  and  foremost.  and,  after  all,  johnny's  been  so  well-behaved  lately.  he  deserves  to  get  to  call  the  shots  tonight.    “  i  promise  i'll  make  it  good  for  you,  my  darling.  anything  you  want  from  me,  i  will  give  you.  ”