#dorky alien man

[garrus-appreciation]

Garrus and Shepard started flirting shamelessly as soon as he recovered from Omega and Garrus was thinking hehe we're just messing around but then Shepard makes it clear that she's dead serious and that's when Garrus's flirting skills went out the window

[gotinterest]

you guys weren't kidding about Banjo being bisexual

[katelynsimpsince2016]

after sleeping on the latest anniversary special i think i’m at peace with the whole bi-generation thing because it does something i don’t think it would’ve been able to do if it was executed in any other way. it allows the show to move the fuck on.

nuwho began with this mysterious sense that something bad happened. that this man, this alien, is filled with guilt and pain from something terrible. that theme of a horrible anguish being thinly veiled under a witty, dorky shield has been consistent throughout every incarnation of the doctor since. it’s a brilliant piece of characterisation but the doctor always being weighed down by this insurmountable grief i think was always going to hold the show back eventually. tragedy is inherent to doctor who but when does it become hard to believe that the main character is somehow able to continue on after everything they’ve gone through. what effect would this have on the audience, especially long-term fans? letting go of past companions and doctors is something that doctor who fans are notoriously bad at and i just wonder if it would become too much for the show to handle at one point. but now it won’t anymore.

bi-generation allows the doctor to heal from everything they’ve gone through whilst still being able to barrel into the next adventure. there’s a million theories on where 14 will end up but i think what matters the most is that the doctor is finally happy. not in a temporary, tenuous state of thrill that will only last until the start of the next episode or when the next threat appears around the corner but truly happy. unlike in previous versions of this story where the doctor gets an impossible happy ending which we never get to see onscreen (e.g. tentoo settling down with rose) we are actually going to witness 15 be joyful and alive, no longer held down by what’s come before. a fresh start almost. not to say that the time war or the flux were so horrific that the doctor never could’ve gotten over them but i don’t think the doctor healing would’ve been believable without him literally splitting in two, allowing him time to breathe and slow down as 14 whilst untethering him from the past and allowing him to fully spread his wings as 15. it’s not a perfect conclusion to this era (and discussions on whether bi-generation undermined ncuti’s entrance and role as THE doctor are completely valid) but i’m ultimately glad it happened

[comfortless]

this thought has been running around in my head for weeks and your König hcs are my favorite… so here i go

what icks do you think our König has? ik he may consider himself to fall in the “beggars can’t be choosers” category but i am just so curious… 🤔

FAVORITE?! 💞 you are so correct about the “beggars can’t be choosers” mentality. König is very much aware of how other people tend to view him as some creepy, stupid brute. i think that there is certainly a lot that bothers him, mostly attributed to his past, but none of it is an actual dealbreaker in any sense. you’re likely to be met with a cold shoulder and a bit of trust diminished at most. the majority of his “icks” are just him picking up on red flags. the gross or awkward things are just cute to him!

A very “vapid” approach to interests and such is going to make him concerned. König does not understand trends, or liking something simply because someone else does. He equates keeping up with pop culture and fashion as being similar to the children that tortured him in the past (So: popular kids with popular hobbies). Authenticity is held in high regard here. The stranger and more alienated that you are, the more compatible and similar you two may be in his mind.

This said, König would go feral seeing you in one of those pretty dresses or outfits that are all the rage. Dressing like a cute milkmaid for a picnic date, playing some sweet love song for him that you may have picked off a viral video, etc. He’s not exactly in touch with these things so he’s no proper judge or jury here.

Being too pushy. There’s a fine line there that’s not to be crossed. He much prefers playing the role of a leader rather than being a submissive follower. He’ll boast about being your devotee, worship like a dog at your feet, but he likes to feel in control of the relationship and what goes on within it.

He’ll never tell you directly that yes, his anxiety will be gnawing at his guts if you plead with him to come along with you to a commonly crowded mall, and expects that a simple rejection should suffice. It’s likely he would keep hushed about the fact that your frustrated pleading actually turns him on, too.

Being unnecessarily cruel. The man gets cruelty, he’s paid in abundance for it. But women should be sweet and soft. If you’re talking poorly about another person, using words like “ugly” or a slur of some kind, how are you any better than some bully? It does not matter that the victim can not hear you speaking about them, what matters is that he can. It would send him into a spiral of thinking that each time you two have had an argument, you’re likely cruelly chattering about him to your friends afterward.

Yet… he is very much the type to shoot an inept employee a glare and make demands. He will call his fellow operators all sorts of things when he returns from a mission gone wrong. König is the king of double standards here.

By extension, dogging him/his work/his interests is sure to bother him. König likes to believe that he’s done the work to make himself more pleasing now: trained his body through the military to give himself the stature women seem to drool over, covers what he can of his face when it’s socially acceptable so that others don’t harp on an unpleasant glimpse, even thinks of himself as some sort of chivalrous gentleman (very easy to do so as no one gets a peek at what goes on in his mind). His work, not therapy, is where he gets to blow off steam in a justifiable, honorable way. Sure, he’s got some dorky, juvenile interests, but they’re things that he enjoys.

Talk of previous relationships/sex would immediately make his blood boil! Even if it’s said to assure him that he’s better than a former lover. He’s just very jealous and if he were to be blunt, he would tell you he is addicted to the relationship and doesn’t want to think of anyone else ever having what he does currently. It’s best not to mention any past you may have had unless you care to answer a series of questions. “Were they better in bed?”… “Full name?” … “When did you last see them?”

Ironically, if you already have children, he would absolutely adore the stepdad role. It’s not so much as a challenge, then, only the glee that comes with getting to play savior for more than one person.

Infidelity. Whether in a past relationship or in a current one with him. The thought of you ever cheating on him, emotionally or physically, would tear him apart. Something as simple as a fantasy of wanting two or more men to serve you is filed messily in his brain with this, too. Same with you confessing to finding another man attractive, whether a celebrity, someone entirely fictional, or even some random civilian padding by on the sidewalk. All of that counts as some minute form of infidelity to König. He does not share.

He’s guilty of threesome fantasies, guilty of staring down a woman that he finds attractive… he just doesn’t act on these things, holds his tongue and huffs that he certainly wasn’t looking and would never want to fuck any one other than you. It does not really occur to him that those things are normal, especially in long term relationships.

Bear in mind that this is all from a man who almost entirely lacks shame. He’s comfortable with himself now (somewhat). He has no qualms with chewing the skin around his fingernails when he’s stressed out, picking his nose in front of you, shitting with the bathroom door wide open, or talking with his mouth full when he’s just that engaged in a conversation. I think it’s only fair to include some of the things he does that may be repulsive!

Absolutely clueless when it comes to seeing you cry. He has no idea how to comfort someone properly as he never really had that. His solution seems to be hovering over you and asking a thousand questions or just draping himself over you and letting your arms curl over him for comfort.

Would kiss you with his eyes open. Not his fault that you’re so pretty and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it. Not always, but once is bad enough.

Would absolutely send you an “I miss you” text the day after your first date. Will also tell you that he’s in love with you the first time you have sex.

Will get hyperfixated on historical weapons and will absolutely purchase some rusted, ancient relic without telling you beforehand. It gets well polished and loved, then displayed on your living room wall.

Loves talking about his kills. He’s proud, because if there’s one thing that he’s good at it’s knowing where to shoot or stab or punch. He knows to hold his tongue about the more grisly details around someone delicate, but more often than not he is prone to slip-ups.

Will use your toothbrush without asking.

Thinks he’s very skilled and very cool because he can trim up any overgrown facial hair with a pocket lighter. It is not cool. There’s a razor and shaving cream right there. He may not burn himself, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have your bathroom smelling of burned hair.

Does not have a lick of fashion knowledge. Plain t-shirts, jeans, combat boots, maybe a belt if he cares to bother with it at most. At the least, when he’s at home, you can expect him to indulge in some nudist fantasy because it’s unlikely he will bother to wear a thing. Maybe socks.

[audhd-nightwing]

Birdflash Week (Day 2)

@birdflashweek

“Have we met before? I swear I know you.”

Identity reveal

Dick wasn’t quite sure how he ended up in this situation. One moment he was rushing towards his nearest safehouse to change into his Nightwing suit, the next he was in a shelter with other civilians.

The answer became obvious as a blur of red deposited more people in the safe zone- one of the Flashes had evacuated him. He groaned internally- being mistaken for a civilian was exactly what he didn’t need when there was an alien army invading Gotham.

He slipped out a back door only to come face-to-face with the younger Flash, Wally West. As Kid Flash & Robin, and later Flash & Nightwing, the two had been friends for years. As Dick Grayson, however… well, Wally still didn’t know his civilian identity.

“Are you… sneaking out of the shelter?” Wally asked incredulously. Dick winced and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to get in your way, but my brother is at home and I need to make sure he’s okay,” he lied smoothly.

“Oh! Well, I can give you a lift to your building if you want? We’ll be there in a flash,” Wally said with a wink. Dick snorted, that joke was so dorky it always made him laugh. Wally beamed at his reaction.

“Yeah that’d be great thanks, you can just drop me in front,” Dick replied gratefully.

“So,” Wally clapped his hands together, “how do you wanna do this? Piggyback or bridal carry?”

“Hmm, probably piggyback, seems easier for both of us,” Dick answered. Wally nodded in agreement and crouched down in front of him. Dick climbed onto his back easily, having years of experience doing so. The speedster adjusted to his weight just as easily.

Wally faltered for a moment at the familiarity.

“Have we met before?” he asked, “I swear I know you.”

Dick froze. Well, now was as good a time as any, he supposed. Instead of answering, Dick directed Wally to his nearest safehouse. When they arrived in front, however, he dragged the confused speedster into the building with him and pulled him into the small apartment.

Wally stood in the entrance awkwardly as the familiar stranger disappeared into a bedroom. Just as he was about to run off, the man yelled “Don’t leave!” and Wally froze in place.

The man finally emerged in a familiar suit, sans mask, with a sheepish smile.

“Hey KF,” he said with a small wave.

“…Rob?” Wally asked incredulously.

They were interrupted by the crackle of Nightwing’s comms requesting backup.

“We are SO talking about this later,” Wally said pointedly, to which Dick grinned.

“I’m counting on it,” he replied with a wink and kissed Wally’s cheek before sliding out the window and grappling away.

Wally touched his cheek in shock before grinning and running after him.

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Agree or disagree?

Wow, you probably want a one-word answer, but I'm gonna give you a paragraph (or maybe 7).

I feel like Lance would be laughing hysterically and nope out of the situation. Keith would probably scream or punch a wall first or at least have a lil broody moment to panic, but yeah after that he'd try to get out of it. Though, is this before or after the lion switches? Are we assuming that this is an au and the lions never happened? Because after the lion switch, Keith could probably be moved to the same category as Lance. But if it's before the lion switch, Lance would be moved to the same one as Keith/Hunk.

Though, yeah, Lance doesn't have enough self-value to believe that he's the chosen one. I think Keith would say no in a more, 'I don't care about your freaking prophecy, let me be broody and emo in peace.' They're both super insecure.

The one with Shiro made me laugh. It is SO spot on. Poor old man just wants a break. I think if this is after the lion switch/Kuron, then maybe Keith would be the one to jump in and be like, 'Nuh uh, stay away from my brother, if he dies again I am gonna be SO PISSED.'

Pidge... yeah. No explanation needed. There's a reason I'm emotionally attached to her/him/them. This angelic demon child must be protected.

Hunk! Poor Hunk. No, leave him out of this, I can see him giving them the biggest, saddest puppy eyes while he says that. He doesn't want to be the chosen one, I feel like the entire team would jump in and try to prevent that. But because he's a perfect angel, he would accept it to help him team and STOP IT THIS MAKING ME SAD.

Sorry bout that. Let's not talk about Hunk anymore.

Allura would see this as an obligation that she has, as a princess and as the (sort of) head of the Voltron coalition. She means those words completely, and will not let anyone down no matter what because this poor bean has too much pressure on her. The whole show was made to portray her as a serious, regal leader. However, she clearly has a dorky side, and her whole role/character would be so much deeper and engaging if this were a bigger part of her personality. 'I will not let you down, and I will be completely serious about it, and you will see the transition from when I was that fun older sister who you can confide in, to the scarred older sister who has seen far too much for one lifetime.'

Can we add Coran in? Because he would be in the same category as Allura, but he would whip out a cape from somewhere and be like, 'Yes! I knew this day would come! I will not let you down!' while twirling his mustache. (Holy crap I just heard his voice in my head crystal clear saying those words. His accent makes it sound so cute!) Coran Coran the Gorgeous Man saves the day! (And he would fulfill the prophecy perfectly, and there would be a giant parade with Coran-balloons and aliens swooning anytime he winks in their direction.)

So, yes. I agree with you.

[doubleddenden]

Damn the more I hear about Velma the worst it gets. This saddens me because I've been watching Scooby since before I could talk :(

Mainly what I'm seeing is that someone has contempt for the series + their own ideas for their own incredibly generic show and rather than make something unique, they're just insulting an established series.

My biggest gripes so far:

1. How tf do you got a Scooby Doo show without Scooby Doo? Is he too kiddy for your generic ugly adult cartoon?

2. Shaggy- oh sorry, NORVILLE. Look, I have no problem with the race thing- my literal main issue is that he's called SHAGGY for a reason. How hard is it to give him thick hair? On top of that they make him an actual druggie- let's pretend there's not some subtle racism behind making the perceived 'stoner' of the group black- it's boring. Yes yes we know the gang is a bunch of stoners, but isn't it funnier when it's just IMPLIED? Isn't it funnier that a man just REALLY FUCKING LOVES DOG TREATS and is willing to risk his life on a regular basis for god damn DOG TREATS? Instead they just turn him into yet another Seth Rogan tier predictable disappointment

3. The overall mischaracterization from what I'm seeing just... sucks, and again, I think part of that comes from a contempt for the series. You don't have to make the characters assholes to make them likeable! I know Rick and Morty and Seth McFarland have poisoned the well for a lot of people but you really don't!

Across the franchise there's plenty of fun ways to interpret the characters:

Fred: himbo that loves his friends, dad friend barely holding it together, obsessed with traps- take your pick, none of these are spoiled boring asshole rich kid.

Daphne: if you're opposed to damsel in distress, how about the cool martial artist fashionista made prevalent in the What's New Scooby Doo series or the live action movies? What about being a good reporter? Hell, even her goofy dorky self in Be Cool Scooby Doo is better than the stereotypical snooty popular girl. Props at least for keeping the red hair.

"Norville" is not a self friend zoning beta male and he's not really obsessed with drugs. Literally the man across DECADES of this franchise is ridiculously talented. Ventriloquism, improv acting, gymnast and athlete- seriously, why do you think they have him and the dog constantly running away from monsters and leading them into traps? The man was literally so good at that that he became a COACH. for MONSTERS. Let's also not forget that he was a race car driver! And had a hot girlfriend! In fact, fuck this friend zoned beta male shit- Shaggy literally pulls more girls (and men I think) in the entire franchise than the others COMBINED. If anything he should have dense harem protagonist energy. I'm talking more than Velma, dude also pulled her LITTLE SISTER- and she was okay with it because she knows he's a good guy(mind the AUs)! Pulled a girl that was kinda a monster fucker for him specifically when he was a werewolf, an actual fucking alien, several foreign girls of various nationalities, several average girls, a crazy but hot redneck girl that tried to SCHWOOSCH his bones after seeing the red shirt ONCE, pretty sure he did something good for Daphne to hang out with him for so long with just a bunch of dogs and a random kid they picked up, very sure actual monsters fell for him- and he's a nerd! He and his beloved best friend the talking dog are massive nerds! I reckon people still latch onto that and think he's the stereotypical nerd but no, no, Shaggy has so much going for him! Not to mention- not to mention! Animal lover! Doy! How do you miss that? He's always paired with the animals! The man is a collective family friend of the entire Doo clan! Every time there's a guest appearance with a non human entity, he's hanging out with them!

Velma... alright look. I'm about to say something real controversial. Real controversial. You ready? She is kinda boring and bland. She's smart and a good investigator, but really? This is who you base the show on? Recently she was allowed to be bisexual- that's great! She's well read, well informed, and if you want to skip the bitchy "its me or the dog" persona from Mystery Inc or the snooty geek from Be Cool, you could fall back to the quiet but cute and thoughtful personality she had in A Pup Named Scooby Doo. If not, she's just boring. I feel like most of the hype for her comes from memes or the people that think they're unique for finding her more attractive than Daphne (you're not btw). Like what does she do that the others cannot do? I'm pretty sure Daphne can do her job but without the min max on intelligence and some points in kicking ass. In fact, why are Fred and Daphne the assholes when Velma in TWO separate series has been the judgey bitch and overall asshole? If anything she should would fit the perfect "beta incel self perceived victim that's actually just a massive douche" trope!

And Scooby. First off fuck the writers for not including my boi. Second, you really couldn't make an adult comedy of a talking dog? If Scooby said fuck- scuze me, 'ruck'- I'd cry laughing! If Scooby was the druggie and Shaggy was normal, that'd be hilarious! Literally if they took every negative trait they forced onto the others and put it onto Scooby, you'd literally have a prime adult cartoon character right there. He's a gag character! Utilize it! I know in the recent series he's been pushed to the side for the others, but he's literally a comedic gold mine waiting to happen! Make him an arsonist! Make him have questionable opinions! It'd be hilarious because he's a literal dog that can't speak understandably half the time!

Look, if you want to make an "adult scooby doo" then I guess I can't stop you. Velma ain't how you do it though.

Btw before anyone jumps on me to defend the new show, the creator of the series supports JKR soooo

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Venom (1/2)

Word count ; 4.0k

Using gn pronouns for this one, per the request anon.

*Dedicated to @animefan3223! I love you and hope you feel better soon :)

“I hope you don’t mind,” the rather frail, dorky man commented, sliding himself onto the benchpress. “I’m just a little out of shape after being stuck in the hospital for so long, so…”

I sent him a reassuring grin. “Not at all. I’ll be right here to spot you until you get the hang of it, sir.”

I stretched my arms, examining closely as the gym member clasped his arms around the bar and pushed it. His face contorted with exhaustion and I was about to recommend something lighter, but he seemed so determined. I wanted to make further inquiries about his injuries, but I’d at least wait until he was taking a breather. This local gym was known for having friendly clientele, and I was hoping I was part of that spectrum.

He lifted the bar to his chest. My hands were ready to help him out when needed, but he managed to do one rep with ease. Then two. Then three. I was starting to wonder if he even needed a spotter —

“Oh, uh, Y/n, hey. Didn’t think I’d see you around.”

I gasped and looked up. I recognized the voice instantly, coming face to face with Eddie Brock - my ex-fiancé. I resisted a sigh, because either he came here on purpose or he genuinely never learned where I worked in the two years we were together. It was all in the past, though, and I strained a polite smile.

“Uh, hey, Ed. Do you need something?”

The client placed the bar back on, grinning. Even though his face was red and the glasses slid down his nose, he looked fairly refreshed. He stretched his arms, glancing between the two of us. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but was my form alright?”

I sent him a smile. “Perfect, actually. It’s like you’ve been at it for years without stopping.”

“I guess I can add a couple extra pounds on, then.”

“Great. Good job, buddy,” Eddie interrupted again. “So, Y/n, about that. I just, uh, wanted to catch up now that I know you work here, so —“

“Not right now, Ed. I’m on the job. You got that, sir?”

“It’s just Neil.”

“Right. Neil. You’re dong a great job so far.”

Eddie was still hovering awkwardly, and it took every fibre of my being not to snap at him. I directed a not-so-subtle glare his direction, and the man teetered his balance between his feet. He adorned a tank top and cargo shorts, but from the state of his physique, he wasn’t as in shape as he used to be when we were engaged a few years ago.

He noticed my eyes boring into him and sent an abashed smile. I went to scowl, but suddenly, the client’s arm gave out and he yelped. A curse escaped my lips as my hands ducked underneath the bar just in time, catching it with ease. Neil panted and I helped raise it back onto the shelving.

“Shit…!” he muttered, sitting up straight and gripping at his right arm. “It gave out.”

“No worries. I should’ve been paying more attention,” I mumbled in reassurance. “Eddie, if you need something, just talk to me later. Go do your own thing. Please?”

The man gulped and nodded. He was sweating profusely, forcing a grin. “U - uh, I mean, yeah. Sure thing. Sorry about that, Y/n.”

I rolled my eyes, watching as he stalked over to a treadmill. My attention returned to Neil, who’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. I mustered a friendly grin and patted his back energetically. “You still got it. Maybe just take it easy. Do some stretches or cardio.”

“Do you have any recommendations for that?”

“I think there’s a yoga class going on right in the other room, actually,” I mused. “If you’re interested, go ahead and drop by for a free session. After that, you’ll have to pay additional fees.”

“Ah - thank you. I’ll do that. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

After the man grabbed his water bottle and headed in the general direction of the class, I sighed in pure irritation. It had been a while since I stumbled across Eddie Brock. His life had certainly taken an adventurous turn when he ended up with some alien pet attached to his hip, and although he previously texted often before that, he’d gone radio silent up until now.

Edie Brock always managed to get on my nerves before and he certainly was now.

I surveyed the gym, but my gaze returned to Eddie. He’d broken a sweat already, and I was somewhat caught off guard when inky black slime appeared from his shoulder and formed a floating head. It attracted other nearby gym users as well, and rightfully so. At the perfect angle, I could see the monster’s wide smile and I could hear a distant - but deep - voice, completely different from Eddie’s.

I crossed my arms in intrigue, leaning against one of the many pillars in the vast complex. Eddie, clearly agitated about whatever the alien was talking about, began swatting. The head dodged each time, and a rumbling laughter echoed in the gym. Many people glared in annoyance, but Eddie was too caught up with the agitating alien to notice.

The head peered in my direction. We made brief eye contact, but I took in the odd features. I’d seen footage online of the entire creature, but witnessing it in person was far more different. It had a tooth grin that spread to inhumane lengths and glowing, yellow eyes. It was fairly smooth, except for the imitating sweat that rolled down the sides of its head like a waterfall.

Eddie’s footing was lost in a split second, and the alien seemed to allow it to happen, hovering in place as the man tripped and fell face-flat on the machine. Out of habit, I stood straight, about to walk over. However, ink spilled from his body and he got up with ease, still complaining loudly. I blinked in confusion, and both the alien and his human friend peered over at me.

Horror dawned Eddie’s expression as he turned away. Out of frustration and embarrassment, he turned the machine off completely and headed off to god knows where. I sighed in relief, glad that my rather obsessive ex was shamed out of the gym by his alien friend and would hopefully not bother me again anytime soon.

~~~

Tate <3 : shift’s over soon, right?

Me : yeah, just heading out. see u soon, babe.

Me : also, today was super stressful. I’ll tell u about it when I get home, kay?

I was about to send the message, squinting my eyes as I exited the gym, but I suddenly bumped into someone. I gasped, the phone slipping from my grasp and colliding with the ground. I was about to apologize profusely, not expecting someone to enter the gym right before closing time.

“I’m sorry —“

“No, no, I am —“

I peered up, and in the street lamps and car headlights, I recognized him instantly. Eddie Brock, seemingly a lot less tense, was standing before me with a panicked and awkward expression. A scowl immediately tugged against my lips and I leaned down to pick up my phone.

The man had the same idea, crouching and reaching. Our hands overlapped with one another as he apologized several times, but I was quick to swat at him. He still fumbled with his words as I snatched up my phone and stood up straight.

I glanced over my phone. Great. A few extra cracks coated the surface. Thanks, Eddie.

“I - I didn’t mean to run into you like that, Y/n —“

“What do you want, Eddie?” I snapped, shoving my phone into my pocket. “I’m busy. Whatever it is, can you just text me if it’s that goddamn important?”

Eddie froze in place, eyes wide and embarrassed. Even in the darkness, I could see how flustered he was, a deep blush coating his cheeks. There was scraggly hair across his jaw, just enough to indicate that he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning. He was wearing casual clothes, too, jeans and a teeshirt. He shoved his hands into his pocket, shuffling his foot against the cement.

“You, uh, blocked me, so…”

I rolled my eyes, about to take out my phone to unblock. However, his arm shot out and I paused, sending him a warning glare. He gulped anxiously before withdrawing his hand. I watched him warily.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Um… I’m sorry for, uh, getting on your nerves earlier,” he started, voice wavering nervously. “I was just… wondering how you were doing recently. I didn’t really have a way to keep in touch, so…”

I quirked a brow and crossed my arms. “Why does my livelihood concern you, Eddie? It’s been, fucking, two years now at least.”

“Actually,” he corrected,” Two years and seven months. And three days, but, uh, who keeps count of something like that? I sure don’t. It’s just, uh, we’re friends, aren’t we? I mean, just because all that happened… Well, I, uh, care abut you, Y/n.”

“I can tell, Eddie,” I sighed rubbing my forehead in irritation. “Of course you kept count. Listen, Eddie, you really need to let go —“

“I just think we ended things on the wrong foot, is all —“

“Life moves on, pal —“

“What we had was something really special —“

“Just fucking shut up, Eddie!” I barked. The man fell silent, and I could tell how unhappy he was about how everything was going. “Can’t you take a hint? We’re not lovers, we’re not friends, and you’re literally a fucking stranger to me. Get that into your thick skull.”

Silence fell between us. I was fuming while Eddie’s shoulders slumped in depressive defeat. He could no longer make eye contact with me, and from how his eyes twitched, I could tell there was some sort of inner debate going on.

And then, he caved, turning his head away completely. “…Can I at least, uh, know if you’re doing alright?”

I exhaled out of sheer relief. I felt the stress wash off me as my thoughts returned to Tate. I held up my left hand, shaking it vigorously. He looked, and his entire body tensed. Because sitting on my ring finger was a ring. I almost felt bad for the guy. He was trying and he was trying hard.

“Listen, Ed, if you wanted to ‘catch up,’ you should’ve done it years ago. It’s over. I moved on. And I’m sorry for being harsh, but you really should, too.” I yielded no response, even when I lowered my hand. His age chased it, and he was clearly in a state of shock. “Have a good night.”

I started walking away, shoving my hands into my pocket in the direction of my nearby apartment. 

“Fuck! Venom, don’t!”

I turned around, curious as to what was going on, but the moment I did, something black and inky stretched from Eddie’s body like a slinky and grasped onto my upper arm. Immediately, a shriek escaped, and it was clear from Eddie’s expression that the alien was attempting to take over but was being rivaled by Eddie.

I struggled at it, but the inky substance just read over my shoulder and tugged me closer like a game of tug of war. My sneakers were squeaking against the cement and I squirmed. Eddie was doing the same, swatting at the stretched out slime. It was oddly flesh-like, as even when I poked and prodded at it, it only seemed to solidify further.

A scream threatened to escape, but I knew that because of Venom’s reputation as a hero, nobody would intervene. I would be made out to be a villain. I kept sliding across the cement until my legs caved out completely and I fell to the ground.

“Venom, stop! Or I swear to god —“

“Or you swear to god what, Eddie?” a deep voice boomed audibly, the same head from earlier seeping from his backbone. “You’ll let them get away again? Just like before?”

“Please!” I pleaded. “D - don’t hurt me. I ha - haven’t done anything wrong!”

“You’re scaring them, dude! Just let her go!”

The head exchanged glances between us. A few tears had escaped and I managed to scrape my bare elbow against the ground. The beast was still grinning, and yet, as it stared me down, it changed to a shut-mouthed frown. It sighed lowly and dissolved back into Eddie’s flesh and blood. 

I scrambled to my feet, a few sobs escaping. Eddie looked just as broken, motioning wildly. He was at a lost for words as he reached toward me. I turned, starting to walk away.

“Y/n, I - I’m sorry! That just means he likes you, I swear!”

I sent him a scowl, not stopping. “Tell him that the feeling’s not mutual.”

~~~

Eddie had never been so heartbroken and defeated, even during the weeks passing the break-up. He remembered it like yesterday; one moment, happy as can be, and the next, they’d packed their stuff up unannounced and called him a selfish deadbeat. It hurt like hell. 

But, what was even worse, was that now his alien compadre had messed up any chance he had. ‘Stop moping around and grow some balls,’ he said. ‘Just talk to them,’ he said. ‘Don’t let them go,’ he said. And now, they was walking away, thinking even more lowly of him than ever.

“Hey man, the fuck was that about?” he boomed desperately, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Y/n was far enough away that yelling hardly concerned them, and yet, he couldn’t stop watching them. “How could you just do that? What, did you think you could scare them into submission or something?”

“Well…” Venom’s voice grumbled in slight embarrassment from inside Eddie’s mind.

“Well?” he snapped.

“Well, yes, actually.”

Eddie facepalmed instantly. “Jesus Christ. This whole thing is fucked. Never should’ve visited in the first place. I mean, they’re literally engaged!”

Venom went silent, detecting how peeved Eddie was. Sure, the symbiote cared. He cared just as much as Eddie did, if not more so. Because, for him, they were one of the same. Same body, same mind, she feelings. Venom just wasn’t a coward who watched the love of his life from a distance instead of actually doing something about his lingering feelings.

“There’s still something we can do,” Venom spoke carefully.

“What, man? What can we still do?”

“We need to follow. The fiancé of their’s… is a problem.”

Before Eddie could say or do anything, Venom took control. His ink spilled from his pores and covered every inch of his body. Only half of Eddie’s visage was visible due to Venom’s kindness, but other than that, he’d completely transformed into a bulky and strong alien shape.

Venom let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Some people had their heads hanging out of their car windows, taking photos with flash. They gleamed against Venom’s skin, but the monster paid it no heed. Eddie was still reeling from the heartbreak that, honestly, he didn’t care if Venom fucked things up even more. He was a goner the moment he set foot in the gym.

He was a goner the moment he let Y/n walk out that door all those years ago.

Venom suddenly outstretched his hand. He dived into an alleyway at top speed, using his inhuman strength to grasp onto the side of a building. As well-put-together and confident Venom feigned himself to be, he was just as concerned. Concerned that, for the sake of his and Eddie’s happiness, he’d have to do something a bit more drastic.

He bounded across the rooftops, oddly quiet. And then, as Y/n was spotted down below, shivering from the cold, he stopped. Eddie gulped, already knowing where this was going. It had been a while since Eddie trailed after them. In fact, he only stopped once Venom came into his life a few months ago. And, somehow, Eddie failed to realize the love of his life had gotten engaged amidst all of the city chaos.

Y/n turned the corner, peering over their shoulder. It was clear who they were looking for; Venom. But, much to their joy, of course they couldn’t see him. Venom was right above them, clinging to one of the sky scrapers. For someone so on edge, it was odd that they didn’t notice the pictures people were taking of the buildings above Y/n.

They kept walking. And then, a flew blocks down, they disappeared into a new and unfamiliar apartment complex. It was far larger than anything Eddie and Y/n had in the past. As Venom climbed up the various windows, they realized Y/n was living penthouse style. But, on the plus side of them dating someone far more endowed, rich penthouses were very open and spacious. So, that meant that, depending on what floor they were looking at, they could easily locate Y/n and the dreaded fiancé and see what the hell they were on about.

“This isn’t stalking, is it?” Eddie inquired carefully in a hushed voice, despite being very high off the ground where nobody could hear them. “I mean, we’re allowed to do this, right?”

“Eddie. This is stalking.”

Some fo the various penthouse owners noticed the odd alien creature climbing up the side of the building. Others didn’t, simply ignoring the odd shadow that passed over their apartment. And, as they climbed to about the tenth or eleventh floor, they noticed a woman sitting on a couch watching television while the front door opened.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, but Venom was on top of it. He slid down the glass just below, peering the large head right through the large panes of glass. Y/n hadn’t noticed at all. The room was too dimly lit. Instead, they were kicking off their shoes.

Venom was an alien. And that meant his hearing was far superior to the average human’s.

“I’m back, babe!” Y/n called.

The fiancé had been snoring, only a poof of curly, blonde hair draped over the back of the couch. She suddenly sat up, a snore being cut short. Y/n laughed, apologizing at the same time, but the fiancé rose to meet their lover with a warm hug.

Y/n reciprocated, nuzzling into their significant other. As the hug ended, the fiancé placed a chaste kiss on Y/n’s cheeks. Eddie knew he didn’t have the right to, but his insides burned with jealousy. And, with Venom feeling everything he felt, the emotion was only turned up tenfold.

“God, what happened to you?” the fiancé fretted. “You’re all scratched up!”

Only as the couple gained some distance between each other did Eddie and Venom truly take in the fiancé’s appearance. She was pretty. Too pretty. She had golden hair that had natural curls and was a fairly petite woman. Y/n was far taller. She was dressed in her pajamas, consisting of a tank top and underwear. She was fairly cushy and fluffy with lots of curves, and it was no wonder Y/n fell for her. Especially if she was that… caring all the time.

Y/n sighed and shook their head. “Yeah. Today was total shit. My ex showed up at work to harass me. He left, but then as I was leaving, he showed up again! And this is the really obsessive and annoying one. Eddie Brock. The one that literally saved planet earth and all that because he’s half alien now. You’d think he’d move on to greener pastures, but nope.”

“You’re kidding! The alien did that to you?”

“Yeah. I would’ve thought it was pretty cool and exotic if I wasn’t scared shitless.”

The fiancé sighed and shook her head. She led Y/n by the arm over to the couch. Instead of letting the mood be ruined by Eddie’s ‘annoying’ existence - it physically hurt the man to hear that -, she pulled Y/n on top of her and unpaused the movie on the screen. It was in the middle of some chick flick, but Y/n didn’t voice any complaints.

Even though Eddie knew they hated chick flicks with a passion.

It stung and it stung a lot to see the human Venom adored with all of his slash Eddie’s being be so intimate with another person. And yet, as irrational as Venom was for an alien, he could read Eddie’s thoughts. And, for the first time, as the couple engaged in something far more rated R, he felt discouraged.

But then, it was a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“Eddie,” he grumbled suddenly. “I have an idea.”

Eddie piped up immediately, replying,” Wh - what?”

“We’ll do it tomorrow.”

~~~

I pulled up to my future wife’s workplace. As I parked the car and stepped outside, though, horror immediately dawned on me. The bottom-right side of the hospital was lit ablaze, and the entire parking lot was being filled by various doctors, patients, and visitors alike. Screams echoed in the air and I was left frozen in shock. My eyes scanned the entrance, praying that Tate would exit. The woman had to. But I knew that her kindness knew no bounds, and she’d end up prioritizing her patients.

The police and fire department had surely been alerted by now. I shoved my phone into my back pocket, the donuts I’d brought for Tate as a surprise long since forgotten. They’d probably melt in the car, but I couldn’t care less. I began walking through the severely crowded parking lot, and as I made my way through the bulk of the crowd, I paused in the entrance.

“Tate?” I called, although it was easily drowned out by everyone else’s screams and cries of terror. “Tate, where are you?”

I was shoved to the ground. The people were beginning to disperse, some complete with the hospital bed itself. Some with IV bags. And same in wheelchairs. Panic washed over me as I could see clearly into the entrance. Tate wasn’t in sight, and that scared the shit out of me. After such a difficult existence, I dreaded the thought of losing the one person I adored to a fucking fire.

I rose to my feet, planning to head inside. I took but one step, and then relief washed over me. 

Tate emerged from around a corner, hauling dozens of kids with her. They must’ve been from the chemo-therapy ward because most had lost their hair or were in wheelchairs. Tears sprung to my eyes and I beckoned for her. She was panting, and yet, there wasn’t a trace of fear on her expression. She was far too focused on getting the kids out, accompanied by several other doctors and nurses.

“Y/n!” she called, a smile spreading to her cheeks. “Help me with the kids!”

I did so, entering and pushing two of the wheelchairs further. Once everyone was safely in the parking lot, I realized that reinforcements - other than ambulances - had yet to arrive. They were sounding in the distance, but somehow, the fucking news reporters beat the people who’s lives depended on them.

The moment Tate set down the loast child, ushering them to ambulances, I enveloped her in a warm hug. She reciprocated, cooing softly. “Why… are you here?” she inquired, although gratefulness laced her tone.

“I - I was dropping off a snack for you,” I gushed, before separating to look her over. “God, are you okay? Did you get burned at all —?”

“I’m fine, Y/n,” she giggled. “I just had to help in any way I could. It’s my job.”

I scrunched up my nose and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Fuck. I was scared I could’ve lost you.”

Suddenly, a crash came from the building. Gasps erupted across the parking lot. Some cheers escaped others, and that’s when Tate and I saw him. Crashing into the building was Venom himself, here to save the day and serve his 'fellow’ man.

[sakebytheriver]

There was drama behind the scenes in Community? Do you feel like you want to elaborate?

Oh my gosh there was so much drama 😭😭

I'm surprised you haven't heard about it, it's like the biggest dark cloud that hangs over that show.

Okay, so here we go this is going to be such a long post,

Dan Harmon and Chevy Chase were both competing to be the biggest dick working on the show, in the end Chevy won, mostly because Dan recognized the error of his ways and worked to change, but the point is Chevy saw himself as this big time Hollywood legend due to being one of the first cast on SNL, and so his over inflated ego did not enjoy the long hours on set or the way they were writing his character (of course a lot of how they wrote his character was in response to his own bad behavior) and so he acted like a little bitch all the time, if you've seen the show there's an episode where Pierce throws a tantrum and then goes to hide in a trailer the whole episode, that's basically how Chevy would act on set, most of the cast ended up hating him too because of his behavior and the writers had to find ways to limit his on screen time replacing him with a body double because he did not want to work as long as the rest of the cast and because Community was this insane show that had off the wall concepts for their episodes and scene concepts that would only last two seconds in the final product but would take entire days setting up filming locations and dressing the sets the days and the hours were Long af and so the more crazy concepts the show ventured into the less Chevy wanted to be there and so in turn he ended up clashing heads with Dan Harmon the other dick in this story, now Dan Harmon was the show runner and creator of Community, he is the mastermind behind the whole thing, but at this time he was pretty much at rock bottom for his entire life and his behavior, he was an alcoholic, he was sexually harassing a woman who worked under him, and he happily provoked Chevy Chase's little bitchiness in public, going as far as to play an angry voice message Chevy left him into the microphone on stage at a fan convention to a room full of fans and the media.

In response to all of this bullshit the studio fired Dan Harmon and replaced him with two guys whose only experience running a show was a racist show called Aliens in America about a white family that wanted to get a hot cool European exchange student to make their nerdy son cool, but instead got a brown dorky foreign exchange student with a funny accent and weird food, the show lasted one season and was promptly forgotten by the entire world for very good reason 😬

Anyways these two guys were brought in to showrun the infamous Season 4 of Community, otherwise known as the gasleak year. Now, these new showrunners weren't enough to make Chevy happy and he was still a little bitch most of the time and his coworkers were very unhappy with him for getting the guy who turned this show into a cultural icon fired. But they did season four and it was a big pile of shit, there's a couple episodes from that season that are worth watching, the body swap episode written and directed by Jim Rash is one, but for the most part this season is a write off, it's not that it was bad, it was honestly a lot better than most shows out there, but it was really really bad in the context of the rest of Community. It was a season desperately trying to be the show that came before it and it just utterly failed, trying to capture the magic that was Community without knowing how to do that.

Anyways, after this Joel McHale, the actor playing Jeffery Winger and a man who calls Community the best thing that ever happened to him went to the studio and said, "you gotta bring back Dan Harmon" and ultimately, the new showrunners were sacked, Chevy left, and Dan Harmon was brought back to the show.

Season 5 premiered with an episode called, Repilot that brought our now Greendale six instead of seven back together in a way that felt like coming home again after your first semester at college, bittersweet in that way that makes you feel like everything has changed, but nothing has moved. They lost Donald Glover in the fifth episode of the fifth season playing Come Sail Away by the Styx and now the show only had five of the original cast that made up the community we follow and by the end of season five the show was canceled at NBC and even when the giant cult fanbase raged at them they still refused to bring the show back for that iconic Six Seasons and a Movie Abed so often proclaimed in the text of the show

Until of course a streaming service that no longer exists called Yahoo!Stream came in and spent $42 million dollars for one singular season of Community (and two other shows apparently) and the fans were overjoyed to get their final season even if we also lost another key part of the main cast Yvette Nicole Brown to get it. Now the show had lost almost half the original cast, lost its showrunner, had a shit season, then got its showrunner back, got canceled at its original network, and now brought back for an internet streaming service in the days when Netflix still mailed people DVDs, and so this is the mindset they went into Season 6 for. The final season of the show had lost the fun whimsical tone of the golden age of the first three seasons, but still had the wacky zany adventures now couched in this sad feeling of reality that the end is coming soon, but then the last episode flashes a black screen that says "and a movie" and the fans had hope

Of course until Yahoo!Stream goes bankrupt and blames Community for it and that movie never comes.

Dan Harmon goes on to make Rick and Morty and a podcast called Harmontown where he admits to his horrific behavior on the set of Community and apologizes to his victim in a way that makes her feel vindicated and satisfied that he has changed his ways and moved forward with his life crawling his way out of his rock bottom to make a career far surpassing anything Community ever gave to him. While Chevy Chase has all but fallen into obscurity as he still does not accept that he did a single thing wrong ever. And now in the year 2023 we are getting the final chapter of the Community story in the form of a Peacock streaming movie that will most likely bring back almost every character and actor except for Chevy Chase

And that is the very very abridged version of the bts drama that haunted Community for six seasons and now a movie 😭😭

[garrus-appreciation]

I like how when Shepard finds Garrus on Omega she’s like “So.. archangel, huh?” and he’s like embarrassed about it like please i’m just Garrus to you and then in mass effect 3 he’s like “btw i’m archangel”, “did you know I’m shepard’s bad boy boyfriend aka archangel”

[magnoliabutters]

HOW ABOUT THAT WINE?

pairing: garrus "archangel" vakarian x fem!shepard

inspiration: @chestharrington’s lazy ghoul's kinktober → week one: love making

warnings: 18+ content, mdni; mass effect 2 spoilers & references, dorky fluff, dom smut vibes, lovey dovey, p in v, cunnalingus, human anatomy, etc.

word count: ~3.4k

note: it is the beginning of kinktober, y'all! straight from a writing hiatus and right into some alien (*cough* turian) smut. let's get freaky kinky dinky babes...

You're crazy about him. Abundantly crazy. There isn't a minute - no, a second that goes by where his name isn't scribbled all over your mind. The way he makes you feel, god. It's almost like he doesn't even know what power he holds over you.

You thought a shower might help clear your mind, but it only gave you a room filled with steam and thoughts. You are already red hot, pink in the cheeks from just saying good night after your last mission. He shot you a smile and you instantly turned into an absolute puddle. Does he even know the power he holds over you?

Garrus Vakarian is all you can think about - clothed, armored, naked. Nothing else matters.

And yet, some how - some way, this man has no idea what he does to you. He walks around the Normandy without a single care in the world. Not knowing in the slightest how quick you'd drop to your knees, begging him to carry you up to your cabin and fuck you better than you've ever had.

For now, there's only simple greetings and salutations. Professionalism at its max, seeing as you are his superior. God, you could hear Alliance HR calling after your last conversation with Garrus.

All that talk about how turians like to release some stress after harrowing missions... Now, after every mission, you bite your tongue until you can scream into your pillow.

Brushing your hair back, you let the warm water sink into your scalp. You hope - no, pray that these feelings go away. At least until the squad gets through the Omega-4 Relay, if we make it back.

The pipes squeak as you hastily turn off the water. You throw the towel over your body, soaking up all the moisture from your slick skin. Another towel to your face as you reach the corners of your eyes and rub the texture against the tops of your cheeks. Your hair is still wet as you tie it into a loose bun. Strands fall without any distinct pattern around your head.

One last wrap around your body, and you make your way back into the cabin. As you turn the corner, you catch a glimpse of the sweetest, most delicate man wearing his nicest blues and with wine in hand.

"Hey," he says with that dark melodic voice.

Your jaw slightly drops. Your brows raise and lips quiver as you stand before him in your white towel. His eyes stray to your chest, down your stomach and to the tops of your thighs. "I - I'm sorry, you need to get dressed."

Garrus turns to walk out the door, but a hand at his shoulder stops him. "What do you have there, soldier?" you ask with a bit of tease. You could care less about getting dressed. Hell, the quicker you get this towel off the better.

"I brought wine," he answers nervously. "Best I could afford on a vigilante's salary."

Your cheeks perk into a smile as happy little butterflies fill your chest. Eyes upon him, begging for him to ravish you right here - right now. Push you up against the desk and fuck you until you both pass out.

Alas, those seductress eyes fill him with worry. Garrus rushes towards the sound system. His finger furiously tapping against the holo until a fast-tempo, bass rattles your ribcage.

With hopeful brows raised to the heavens, you watch as he timidly sways to the beat. Your heart calls for him. Your sweet, little nerdy boy. How he ever got anyone before you is beyond you, but - hell, he'll never have anyone else after you.

You waltz over him with seductive movements in your steps. Your tongue runs over the smooth of your lips. Your lashes bat his way, forcing his grip to tighten at the bottle's neck. Your smile gentle and inviting, wanting nothing more than his hands upon your body.

"If you were a turian, I'd be complimenting your waist or your fringe," Garrus states, trying his hardest not to be overwhelmed by your sexuality. His head is down with eyes watching his stimming fingers. "So...," he takes a deep breath before slowly raking up your body. "Your, uh, hair looks good. And your waist is very supportive."

You giggle with a hand planted at your hip. Everything he does, everything he says fuels that fire in your stomach. The need - the desire to feel his touch. God, you wish you could find some excuse for accidentally dropping your towel, but no. It would be much much better if he was the one pulling it off you.

With silence being too much for him to bear, Garrus carries on, "Hopefully that's not offensive in human culture." He takes a deep sigh, realizing he is still too formal. "Crap, I should've watched the vids Mordin sent." Spouting off facts like this, you and him, was some kind of science experiment - interspecies intercourse.

Recognizing the face of self-deprecating thoughts, you raise your hand and land it against his shoulder. "Whoa! Consider me seduced, smooth talker." You pull yourself closer into him. He peers down at your face, taking shivering breaths at your proximity. "Now shut up and stop worrying."

You squeeze his shoulder before trailing your palm across his chest. You walk over to the sound system and turn down the blaring noise. All you want to hear is him. All you want to see is him. You lean back against the wall, kicking your foot up as you shoot him your shining smile.

But something troubles him.

Garrus' head falls once again. He doesn't close the space between you two like you had thought. His words soft and sincere. "I just... I've seen so many things go wrong, Shepard. My work C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis..."

You push off the wall. Your hand falls at his scarred cheek. The silly boy thinks his wound is what got you interested, when you would have easily been in his bed back when they were dealing with Sovereign.

"I want something to go right, just once."

His ocean eyes raise to yours. They are humble, gentle, and vulnerable. It almost aches your heart. The way they peer into you - hell, like he's peering into your soul. Muscles in your face soften as you let him in. Let everything in.

This isn't just a fling. This isn't just because you're able to go on a suicide mission. No, you found something that you've never had before. You both found something within each other. You didn't understand what it meant to have a bondmate until this moment, until looking into these eyes.

You love him, more than you've loved anything or anyone in your life.

Almost as though he was drawing you in, you and Garrus both lean in with foreheads pressed against each other. Soft and powerful. You feel that fire reignite deeper within you.

You can feel the heat resonating off his chest as he pulls you in closer. His hands slowly guide your own back to your sides. With a single finger, he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your lips part as all the breath escapes you.

Garrus' eyes look at all features of your face, bouncing back and forth until they land on your lips. His hand finds its way at the base of your skull. He pulls you in with a force you did not expect.

His lips press against yours, firm and tight. Your hands fall into the concave of his lower back, pulling him into you. As his fingers dig into your hair, you can feel his lips begin to relax. They become pliable and gentle.

You brush your tongue against his mouth, begging for more. Garrus is more than happy to oblige as he slightly parts his lips and digs his hips against your stomach. Your tongue is deep within, crashing against his own as your hands drag him back against your chin and nose. You've been waiting for this moment for quite some time and, now, he knows it.

Your passion for Garrus is not just chance. Not just a simple sexy scar on the right of his face. No, you wanted him. You wanted to devour him, and he is more than happy to oblige.

Arms rush to wrap around his neck, forcing your towel to crash at your tip-toed feet. Eyes closed and breathing hitched. Your tongue massages against his, causing little moans to float between you both.

Garrus' hands explore your freshly exposed body. They are firm as they discover the curves of your bodice and waist. He staggers, guiding you back against the wall. You gasp at the cold sensation, but he didn't care. His hand digs under your right thigh, pulling your bent leg up to his waist.

His tongue slides across your lips. You push against him, practically biting into his kiss. Lips red and bruised and you still crush them upon him. This is all you have wanted, whether knowing it or not, since you met him. Hell if you're going to hold back.

And yet, Garrus picks you up. His hands secure your legs around his waist as he walks down the steps to your bedroom. His eyes still closed, but he navigates through the space flawlessly. His hands grip tightly onto your ass, pinching with excitement.

He places you down upon your mattress with a mixture of dominance and pleasure. You pull your wet hair out of its bun before resting on your back. He sinks to his knees between your legs with hands trailing up your thighs.

Garrus rakes over you. Those same very eyes bouncing left to right, up and down. There's so much to look at, so much to enjoy - so much to love. He decides to start at your thighs with determination. His kisses cause your heart to pound. Sweet, little pecks that prickle your skin. You struggle to keep your thighs from closing upon him.

As he presses his soft mouth against you, he breathes you in. "You are so beautiful, Shepard," he purrs with a vibration to his chest. "Your waist..." His hands find their way back to your hip bones. He rubs against them as he grinds into the side of the mattress. "Your hair," he mewls as he plays with a long strand resting just above your left breast.

"God, Garrus," you whimper at his touch. Your hips rut against his chest. Your clit craving sensation, craving him.

A sharp smirk forms across his face. "Say it again, I like it."

With a laugh, you prop yourself onto your elbows. You try to look at him but are stuck in a haze as he circles the space where your hips and thighs meet. A deep breath and you plead, "Garrus, I need you."

He growls as the other side of his smile perks up. His kisses become bites that travel down your inner thighs. You try to curl in to yourself, but he holds you down, showing you exactly who is in charge in this part of the Normandy.

His tongue lathers up your thigh, finding itself at the tip of your slit. Your breath hitches every so often, floating on the edge of overstimulation. His hands dig into the meat of your thighs, leaving little crescent shaped indents into your reddening skin.

Your hands crash into your hair as Garrus' tongue parts your lips. His thickness lathers up your juices as he guides you down to your ass. "Oh god," you cry out. He groans, growls into you. Any sound you make fuels the raging thrusts forming a hole into the side of your bed.

His finger curls around to lightly flick your bean. His tongue doused with your love and, fuck, did he love every single drop of you. The way your musical moans floated in the air forces something dark to emerge within him. Something primitive and degenerate.

The things he would love to do to you...

Garrus flicks his tongue in a way that makes your head spin. Your chin is up to the sky and your eyes are squeezed shut. Your fingers are tangled in your hair and your hips are pressed firmly against his wet chin.

Only briefly do both your eyes meet during the act. Those sparkling eyes highlighted by thick navied tattoos across his nose and cheekbones. All you want to do is ride that face. Ride that serene, tender face until you explode.

His thick tongue laps against you. A hand rushes to your breast with fingers tightly clasping your hardened nipple. The pinching sensation creates a light-headedness that holds your eyes closed. Your moans can surely be heard throughout the cabin but you couldn't care in the slightest.

"Jesus, fuck," you choke out. "Oh, shit - right there, right there."

Garrus hums, sending another pleasant vibration across the sheets. He utters, proud of himself, "Seems like those vids really helped-"

"Vakarian! Stop talking!"

You push his head down onto you, sliding his tongue further inside. Your entire body feels like pins and needles. Sounds you don't recognize fall from your lips. The pleasure intense. Time slows as you feel your body tighten around him. Your lashes flutter, only showing the smallest glimpses of the lit room.

Garrus delves his firm tongue in. He tries his best not to rip into your skin, not knowing what might hurt and what might feel good. If he trusted his instincts, he would be balls deep within you - thrusting until there was nothing else left for him to give. He always thought he wanted an honorable death by combat. Fuck that, he wants to die in a concussive blast of two bondmates cumming as one.

Fire begins to pool at your abdomen. Your heart races in ways that leave you seeing stars. Your body becomes jagged, happily enduring his powerful thrusts as the rubber band gradually begins to pop.

"Garrus, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," your mewling voice grows higher and higher in pitch.

Upon feeling your walls cave around his tongue in pulsating bursts, Garrus chuckles softly. His pink, fleshly tongue still thick and firm within you. His hands gentle as one softly circles your nipple and the other circles your protruding hip bones.

"Mmm'Shepard," he mewls as he licks his lips.

You struggle to control your heaving breath as jolts of pleasure disperse across your body. Garrus rips his shirt off of him, pulling the cloth over him with one hand. He begins to crawl over you with something firm and pointed traveling across your skin. His own breathing hitched as he crashes a hand beside your head.

You open your eyes to his sweet, endearing smile. His hand warmly pressed against the side of your face. A finger brushes across your cheek bones. His touch gentle as you pant your way back to baseline. His cock hot and hard as it rests against your thigh.

"Ready for more, Commander?"

"Yes, Archangel," you whisper tenderly.

With those two words, Garrus' breath hitches and a voice whimpers out. He leans into you, hovering his lips just above you. You crave him. You feel the static thick in the air between you.

Finally, he caves and drops his loving lips against you. His tongue, your new favorite thing, runs over your lips lightly tracing where they part. He slicks them over, just before you suck in his bottom lip. Your teeth slightly dig into his flesh as you pull him back towards him.

Garrus growls as a slow smirk sprawls across his face. He looks down, only to guide himself at your entrance. The tip barely brushes against your flower and your entire body fills with electricity. He sinks himself into you with one fallen swoop. His girth perfectly filling all the bumps, crooks, and crannies. It forces your jaw to drop as he places caressing pecks upon your cheek.

He pulls back, simply to see himself appear and disappear within you. His breath halts as he furrows his brows. You are tight, tighter than he has ever had. Part of him is holding on by a damn thread, trying not to bust upon first contact. The other part of him is hell bent on feeling your walls convulse around his pecker, squeezing the cum out of him and filling you up.

You hold back winces at the feel of his cock. He is much bigger than you're used to, much bigger than you expected. You widen your legs for him, begging for him to bury himself within you. Your lashes flutter once again as you melt into his touch.

His thrusts are slow at first. His hand traveling from your hair, cheek, neck, breast, and hip in soft, sullen motions. His heart races as he watches your eyes lighten up with each bottoming thrust. He can feel the coil within him tightening and tightening.

Garrus never knew what love was until he saw your face. He never knew what primal attraction was until now.

Gradually, his thrusts become more powerful. His hips digging in deeper and harder. His kisses expand from your neck to your tits. Love bites firm against your clavicle. He loves to hear you gasp, to feel you clench around him. Your hand tightening its grip around his waist.

He sets his pace - firm, solid, and hard. The sight of your breasts bouncing due to his thrusts forces trails of fire to form across his body. He clenches his thighs, working hard to maintain his speed and rhythm.

Words begin to babble from your lips as the endorphins fill your circuiting brain. Your whole body falls limp as it jolts with each of this pounding ruts. Knees begin to buckle and you can feel yourself tightening up. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer and closer for all of eternity.

Huffing, Garrus' movements become more jagged. His breath heavy as he presses his forehead into yours. His lips hang just above yours, brushing against them with each push. He breathes you in, wanting nothing more but to inhale everything that you are.

He bites back a moan as his hips fall out of synchronicity. He tries hard, desperately hard to maintain his rhythm but you can feel him twitching. You can feel his throbbing cock wanting nothing more than a release.

You push back against him, digging your hips against his. With a swift motion, he falls onto his back sending a rippling effect across the mattress. His eyes widen as you sink onto his cock.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Garrus watches as you effortlessly take him in. His breath hitches as your lips part, gasping ever so lightly with each rut of your hips. Your nails dig into his chest, forming a painful yet orgasmic feeling.

His hands fall at your waist, digging in and holding you in place. Never letting go. His own hips grinding against your warmth.

“Shepard, fuck, if you keep doing that, I’m not gonna be able to-”

“Able to what, Vakarian,” you say breathlessly. Your hips dig a bit deeper, grind a bit harder. His brows furrow and his mouth opens. His body shakes, trembling by your movements.

“Oh fuck,” Garrus mewls.

“It feels soo good,” you whimper.

“Oh god, Commander. Oh god.”

“Cum for me, Garrus. Cum inside me! I need it!”

“Fuuuucccckkkkk…”

With a growl, Garrus floods your system with his seed. The very sight of his body trembling beneath you. His thrusts like firm, bursting staccatos. The flick of his head bounces against your g-spot. Your own body shivers with pleasure.

You both ride out your highs, still grinding into each other. Garrus sits up, pulling your chest tight against his own. His breath hot and harsh into the nape of your neck. Your hand hooks at the base of his head, holding him lightly in place.

Hips still jagged as they move. His arms wrap around your waist, forming a tight hold that bounces love between you both. Breath whimpering upon each other’s lips. He presses his nose against your cheek, nuzzling this way to your own. His skin sweaty and warm against your forehead.

“I love you, Garrus Vakarian,” you whisper softly upon his lips.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

“I’ll never be tired of saying it.”

“You are beautiful, absolutely the most beautiful of all the galaxy,” he coos before lightly rubbing his nose against yours.

A soft kiss forces both your eyes to close. Your legs wrap around his back as you rest your weight on his lap. “How about that wine?” you tease before landing another peck on his cheek.

Garrus’ brows jump as that smooth talking smirk shines from left to right. “It’s red… like the blood of our enemies.” He playfully bites into your neck, forcing a squeal you didn’t foresee. “Well, some of our enemies.”

“Okay, calm down, mister vigilante,” you chuckle to yourself.

“Never,” he says before nipping at your neck again. A bustle filled with giggles to end an night you’ll never forget.

note: if you love mass effect & garrus, come back and visit me on N7 day 🩵💙🩵 i has surprise for yous; beginning dialogue & scene are as close to the mass effect 2 romance cutscene before jumping off the ledge into creative shhmut

coming up next sunday → week two: sex toys with ssa aaron hotchner

kinktober taglist? 🎃

✷ kinktober2023 masterlist ✷ navigation ✷ impromptu prompts ✷

thank you for my beta reading bestie, @nackrosor

[wttcsms]

okay, so just yapping and sharing lots of notes & minor spoilers & extreme details of what i have planned/going on for balancing act (which WILL see an update this month, trust 🤞🏻)

please please please, if u read this, lmk your thoughts & if ur picking up what i'm putting down or else i have to revise my outline LOL

what's fun about balancing act is that we get to see my take on gojo's character; i've received comments and asks saying how they like how i've written not just gojo, but all the in-verse characters we have & i'm excited to expand more on gojo's friendships with everyone around him bc as a fanfic writer, it's a fun challenge to see how in character we can get these people when they're thrown into a wildly different universe.

so, talking abt "my take" on gojo's character: he's a goofy guy. he's cocky; he's a flirt. he knows he's Got It All, and he definitely drives a fancy sports car w a custom license plate that reads SIXEYES (bc this is a finance bro au, everyone claims he must have six eyes w the way he never seems to watch the markets but knows exactly when and what to go all in with). BUT !!! i love balancing act bc gojo is not reduced to "cocky womanizer and then u 2 fuck despite claiming to not like him" we get to see gojo's character shine through in his actions, not only in how he treats reader but also in how he interacts with all the characters. he's silly, he plays pranks, he sometimes (almost always) is annoying, but the things he does for them is always stemming from genuine kindness 🥹 like, i have this thought (my finance girlies will understand what i mean/it'll be explained in the fic) that yuuji is interning at the firm for a summer but he's from a non-target school & doesn't come from the same circles as most of the people in finance; knowing that yuuji feels a bit alienated from his peers, gojo goes out of his way to make dorky company merch and requires that all interns wear it & OF COURSE, it's one of those vests with the firm's name monogrammed on it & it's so pretentious but it's a finance bro right of passage and he did this so yuuji would have that status symbol but he also didn't want to single him out. things like that 🥹 he's thoughtful and we need to talk abt it more and we will explore this more within the fic!!!!

and balancing act is so special to me because it's all about loving someone so much that the mundanity of life suddenly seems exciting; suddenly, the boring, not so glamorous parts of life are an opportunity to showcase how much you love someone. MINOR SPOILER, but a scene that's so sweet and exemplifies this is the fact that you live in a luxury apartment building. authorizing/registering a specific vehicle to your apartment's parking services is a pain in the ass, and it's even more annoying to take off a car from the car registry list. that's why any past boyfriends, u rarely let them into ur apartment (bc it's ur safe space, where u can just be urself entirely) and the ones who do make it to ur apartment always use guest parking, which has a time limit. we, in typical romcom fashion, get the adorable "you're sick and he takes care of you" trope!!! so you have a bad flu and gojo drives you to ur apartment and takes care of you, but he's not registered as an authorized vehicle so he has to go to guest parking. well, he spends days with you while u recover, and he sees all the parking fines on his windshield. it's $100 per every hour he goes over the time limit. it's been days. your doorman is a sweet man who is always looking out for u and never likes any of the boys u take home, and he beefs with gojo (for comedic purposes, i promise. it's a fun dynamic) and gojo knows it's the doorman who reported him to parking services. gojo ofc is returning to the apartment building, holding the stack of tickets in one hand (using the same hand to wave cheekily at the doorman), and goes back in ur apartment to show u all the tickets.

he doesn't hold it against u though. what he says is, "your doorman hates my guts." all pouty and whiny. you tell him that the doorman hates the guts of all the boys u bring back & that he shouldn't feel too special, and that this is his way of saying gojo's overstaying his welcome, which u find hilarious. and gojo is like "well, he's saying you're only worth $100 an hour." blah blah blah, BUT !! circling back to the mundanity of life and how it serves as an opportunity to show our love for someone:

you go through the trouble of registering gojo's vehicle under ur apartment. even though u keep saying gojo is annoying and a pain in the ass and that this fascination he has with u will eventually fade, even though u claim there's a time limit to his affections and you KNOW how much of a hassle it is to unregister his vehicle if things do go south for y'all... you still go through the trouble of registering his vehicle, a sign that you like him. a sign that you're hoping things will be permanent.

and that's basically a major point of the fic!!! that our actions, our silly, simple, boring actions, can all have special meanings 🥹 if you look for it, you'll see that love really is anywhere

[pastafossa]

10 Characters ❆ 10 Fandoms ❆ 10 Tags

Thank you to @farfromstrange, @shouldbestudying41, and @bellaxgiornata for the tags! I had to think about this one for a bit. I'm going to try to avoid shared universes/fandoms otherwise this list would be 50% Marvel

1. Matt Murdock - Daredevil. If you could put a ring on a hyperfixation, this is the one I'd pick. My favorite of all characters (surprising precisely no one considering the word count of TRT), he's my comfort character, and it's a fandom I return to again and again ever since I first jumped in in 2015.

2. Din Djarin - The Mandalorian. This was the show, ironically, that kicked off my Pedro Pascal obsession - I'd seen him in other things and liked him but for some reason didn't realize they were all the same person. I love Din's character, he's my taciturn shiny space cowboy, bless him, I want to give his poor back massage after carrying all that armor.

3. The Tenth Doctor - Doctor Who. I still remember flipping through channels when I was younger and stopping on some weird show that had a giant Satan guy being yelled and monologued at by a messy-haired man in an orange jumpsuit (this part here specifically). I had no idea what was going on but I just couldn't stop watching Ten as he rambled and talked himself around. Turned out there was a marathon on so I just kept watching, loved him (and David) ever since.

4. Leslie Knope - Parks and Rec. Leslie feels like someone took a section of my soul and then made a parody of her but it's so close to reality no one's entirely sure if it is a parody, 10 STARS OF 10.

5. Garrus Vakarian (along with F!Commander Shepard, because there is no Shepard without Vakarian) - Mass Effect. This is the greatest game in existence and I love this dorky awkward sweetheart of a space raptor and my Commander Shepard and their romance and their banter, everyone leave me alone I'm emotional about this

6. Alistair Theirin - Dragon Age. He is my snarky lil sensitive warden boy, my first real intro to game romance and bioware games in general, I love him your honor

7. John Constantine - Constantine. YOU HAD THE PERFECT ACTOR FOR HIM AND YA'LL BLEW IT, BRING HIM BACK, HE WAS THE EMBODIMENT OF CONSTANTINE, ALSO I LOVE THIS WRETCHED SNARKY CON ARTIST DUMPSTER FIRE OF A MAN

8. Rick and Evie - The Mummy. They are a pair that cannot be separated, they are marriage goals, THEY ARE PERFECTION, I NEED NO OTHER REASONS, HE FUCKING GAVE HER THE ARCHAEOLOGY TOOLS

9. Xena - Xena. I feel like you if you mapped all of my fandom experience back through my life, you'd eventually get back to me as a kid watching Xena which was 70% camp and 100% fucking AMAZING, also I FUCKING TOLD YOU DIANA, I TOLD YOU XENA AND GABRIELLE FUCKING LIKE LIKED EACH OTHER, ARE YOU LISTENING DIANGA ARRE YOU LISTENING YOU BTICH YOU MADE FUN OF ME BUT I TOLD YOU

10. Ellen Ripley - Alien/Aliens. RIPLEY MY BELOVED, RIPLEY MY DARLING, RIPLEY MY BADASS QUEEN, I have absolutely included tiny shades of her in my own fem characters, I fucking ADORE her

No pressure tags: @wonderlandmind4 @kiwwia-wiwwia @becks-things @ancientbeing10 @bunnelbie @peterman-spideyparker @1988-fiend and anyone else who wants to!

[gallawitchxx]

🔮💨 WE'RE BACK BABY 🔮💨

hi buds! i'm writing this au 100 words at a time per the weekly prompts from @galladrabbles. prompted words are in PURPLE & there’s a 🔮💨 to note where each installment ends. thanks for reading! xx

the latest installment is #26: jello for the week of march 25, 2024

✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺

If you’d have told Mickey Milkovich that by eighteen, he’d be Terry-free and running a drug-fueled, fortune-telling business out of the spare room, he would’ve said, “fuck off and eat shit.”

But here he is.

And here’s Ian Gallagher: lanky, alien-lookin’, and back for the third time to ask about his bootlicking future.

Mickey settles in, the snick of the lighter flooding his body with endorphins, and takes a hit. Breathes in deep, blows out slow. Avoids glowing green eyes that remind him just how big of a gamble this whole thing is.

“See anything yet?”

🔮💨

Fuck, his voice is so hopeful. Curious, in a way that sends Mickey’s blood both north and south. Makes him sway in his chair, lightheaded. Floating. High.

Until the flood came.

A breeze that nips the nose. Rosy cheeks, wide grin, a warm, open laugh. Lips press in a quick, familiar kiss. “Betcha I can still beat you back, Mick.” The playful smack of a big, freckled paw. A slight wince. A weariness. Creaky knees, an ache in the low back. Determination. Something that feels like there ain’t a right word for it in any language. “In your dreams, Gallagher.”

🔮💨

What in the fresh hell…

Mickey blinks—once, twice, three times—trying to harness whatever clarity might still be available to him between the weed and the horrifying scene still playing behind his eyelids.

He’s seen some shit before, doing this kinda work. Shit that’s freaked him out, confused both him and the clients desperate for information. Visions of blood, bile and beady red eyes. 

But never before has he himself shown up in anyone’s future.

“Didja see something?” Gallagher questions, scanning Mickey’s face with an intensity that flips his belly.

“Ask me again, I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out.”

🔮💨

Pink-tinged shame creeps up freckled cheeks, and Mickey’s instantly regretful. Gallagher’s a paying client, even if he does keep his cash in a dorky ass velcro wallet.

Their first two sessions had been fruitful, but incomplete. 

Boot camp fatigues. 

Helicopter blades. 

A set of dog tags that read Phillip Gallagher, instead of Ian.

No wonder he’d shown up again, eager for answers.

Still, old habits die hard. Feelings are a luxury afforded to people a whole lot richer than a Milkovich. It’s easier to lie and be safe.

“Sorry, man. Nothin’ today.”

His chest clenches as Gallagher’s face falls.

🔮💨

The fuck is Mickey supposed to do? Tell him that desperate as he is to get blown to bits in some godforsaken desert, what just came through was nothing more than a couple of sore, old queens chasing each other in the snow? Even worse, try to explain that those frosted fairies are somehow them?

No fucking way.

Gallagher leans back in the rusted metal folding chair. He crosses his arms, his shirt riding up, revealing soft hair and sharp hips. 

Heat licks at Mickey’s neck, along with the desire to wrap his legs around him and hold on tight.

🔮💨

“Okay… That’s okay,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he sits up again, his long fingers coming to rest on camo-clad thighs. Then, clearer, “Didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. Don’t really know how this shit works.”

“That makes two of us,” Mickey says before he can stop himself.

Pouty pink lips part, then tick upwards into a small smirk.

The moment lingers a bit too long, but Mickey’s now sufficiently stoned and ridiculously distracted by the deepening dimple in Gallagher’s chin to break it.

Something flickers between them. Cautious, curious, yet undeniably there. 

“So, uh… what’s it feel like?”

🔮💨

“What’s what feel like?” Mickey asks, still dazed.

“You know… seeing shit.”

Oh. That.

Mickey mulls it over. He could tell him what it doesn’t feel like — a fucking gift. Or whatever people call bullshit abilities like getting so blitzed that you catch sight of what’s still to come. It’s a burden. A plight. If it didn’t make him cash money, he’d honestly consider going off weed altogether. Simply stick to the sauce.

But then again, he wouldn’t have Gallagher in his house, looking at him like he’s gonna say something stupid like, I’d rather have you, cursed or not.

🔮💨

Mickey battles between being benevolent and brash; nature versus nurture at near-constant war within him. But before he can bark out anything at all, he feels another wave pulling him under.

“Turn this chick shit off, man.” Flexed fingers separate his own, sneaking between them and holding on tight. Strong shoulders shrug. “Think it’s kinda like us.” A belly full of butterflies. A pair of flushed faces. “You’re still into me, huh?” A nod, sure and steady. “Always gonna be into you, Mickey.”

That last line takes him longer to shake, and goddammit, there’s no way Gallagher didn’t notice.

🔮💨

“Did you—” he starts predictably. Then, he quickly snaps his jaw shut, trapping the question within.

Mickey sniffs, fiddles with the zipper of his cut-off hoodie, trying to kill time. Keep his hands busy so he doesn’t do something dumb. But there’s really only one way this is gonna go, and he knows it. If Gallagher has even a lick of self-preservation underneath that buzzcut, he should too.

“It feels like you should stop asking stupid fuckin’ questions.” He swallows any stray pangs of conscience as he shoves crumpled bills across the crooked card table that separates them.

🔮💨

He watches Gallagher’s eyes snap to the money. It’s today’s fee returned, plus a little extra; whatever else was in Mickey’s pocket now collateral for his cowardice. 

But he doesn’t take it. He doesn’t move at all.

“You fuckin’ deaf or somethin’?” Mickey shouts. Agitated. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re done here.”

Gallagher looks up. Stares straight into his goddamn soul. It’s terrifying—electrifying—and doesn’t hold a candle to the turmoil that rolls through him when that contact is suddenly gone, his gaze dropping to Mickey’s lips.

He fixates like he thinks they’ve already agreed to a truce.

🔮💨

“I know you saw something,” Gallagher whispers, stepping forward like a dead man on a mission.

Mickey winces. Wills himself back into his body, his eyes drifting shut as he calls to the scattered bits of his blissed out brain.

The time has come to fold. 

“Yeah…”

The chaos spreads the room as Gallagher shifts again. Mickey’s pulse races, relying on sound and vibration to track his movements.

“I just need to know one thing.”

Mickey peeks, curious, then breathless at their newfound proximity.

They lock in eye to eye as Gallagher rips them apart:

“Do I make it through?”

🔮💨

The realization that his silence has been interpreted as some kind of personal tragedy makes Mickey want to punch something.

Hard.

Jesus Christ, it breaks his heart.

With fated versions of them swimming around his psyche, Mickey lets himself wonder if Gallagher might feel the way he does—worries he’s too broken, too disenfranchised, too fucked for life for anyone to be insane enough to love him.

He can almost hear their future selves asking, do you still love me even though I’m flawed? Can almost hear their whispered answers, yes, yes, always yes.

“Yeah, man,” he assures. “You do.”

🔮💨

The relief is clear as day for both the out-of-his-depth diviner and his confused client. 

“Thanks,” Gallagher sniffs, eyes wide and wet. Everything feels fragile, like spun glass and cotton candy. Past their prime dandelions when a summer breeze kicks up. Not at all the way Mickey likes to feel—in his place of business, his own fucking home, his body… “See you next time?”

There is no next time with what Mickey now knows. Only half-truths and keeping his story straight. 

Gallagher turns.

If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.

“Don’t—”

🔮💨

There’s an old poem about hollow men. Stuffed men. Men without sight; shape without form. Line after line of war and faith and shadows. Mickey’s not sure why he knows it. Doesn’t fully understand how it’s come to live in his brain and his bones. But here it is now:

This is the way the world ends.

Gallagher turns, his gaze a challenge. “Don’t what?”

This is the way the world ends.

“Just…”

This is the way the world ends.

Mickey’s breath catches in his throat.

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Gallagher’s lips twitch, but he stays put.

🔮💨

Maybe if those empty men were born in a different time, to other people, and raised under disparate circumstances, they would’ve been able to muster the courage to scream. To cry out their wants. Give voice to their needs.

(Could a couple of doped-up visions really create a need?)

As Gallagher continues to wait—not patiently, per se, but it’s perseverance nonetheless—it dawns on Mickey while he might have been born a worthless man, he doesn’t have to carry on that way.

His situation ain’t what it used to be.

“Can’t tell you what I saw,” he manages.

🔮💨

Gallagher’s hands flex at his sides, and it’s like Mickey’s noticing them for the first time. He ogles at how big they are, how speckled, how good they’d felt around his own hands in that last vision, how much he wants to feel them around his waist, his throat, his dick…

Flushed, and desperate to end this fucked up double date they’re on with their future selves, Mickey looks down at the soiled carpet.

“But I’m alive?” Gallagher asks.

“Very,” Mickey confirms, eyes lifting again. “Look happy.”

Gallagher’s grin sends sunlight streaming through a house once destined for eternal darkness.

🔮💨

“Thanks Mick.”

The nickname zigzags its way beneath Mickey’s skin like he’s a human pinball machine.

“Betcha I can still beat you back, Mick,” echoes an Ian who’s yet to be made real.

Mickey rubs at his bottom lip, hiding the smile that’s threatening to slip. Tries to play it off as a grimace. But Gallagher sees him—really sees him—and beams. A dream, how his smile implies that he’ll wait for Mickey to get there too.

And he will.

Mickey’s seen it. 

Which gives him the confidence to say, “Come back. Next week. Or whenever. Try this again.”

🔮💨

The Universe takes “whenever” seriously, and in the days that follow, seizes full control of Mickey’s highs:

A broad chest pressed to his back. Arms wrapped around his neck.“Love is a battlefield!” Hoarse throats. Wide smiles. Two hearts near bursting.

Full-bodied wine. Pasta sauce on the stove. Tight jeans. Tighter tank. “You look good enough to eat, Mr. Milkovich.” “Bon appetite, Mr. Gallagher.” 

“I love you, baby.” “Love you, Ian.”

Having waited the full week, Ian finally arrives on the Milkovich steps, dressed down in a striped shirt that makes Mickey’s mouth dry.

He hopes it’s cotton mouth…

✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺

🔮💨 CHAPTER TWO 🔮💨

✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺

Ian’s knuckles pulse from the pert pace at which he raps on the Milkovich door.

It’s torture to just stand there and wait, held captive and stripped bare, nerves torn to pieces and praying for a little compassion.

He hopes Mickey’s home. They never confirmed his appointment. Ian’s just going off of his final words—Come back. Next week. Or whenever. Try this again.—before he turned away to find another cigarette.

Ian’s watched the entirety of their last encounter on a loop ever since, like a fucked up foreign film. No subtitles, just mixed (smoke) signals, confusion, and Mickey.

🔮💨

His whole experience with Mickey Milkovich, Southside’s Supreme Stoner Psychic, has been baffling to say the least.

At first, Ian wasn’t buying it. It’s gotta be some kind of scam! But Mickey’s built a solid reputation for being accurate and to the point. Besides, Ian’s always had a little bit of a crush. A death wish, too. So he paid Mickey his money and left with some fragments of his fated future.

He also left with a hunch that his feelings might not be so one-sided... Mickey didn’t hand over a Valentine’s card, but Ian saw the way he’d stared.

🔮💨

He’s still picturing it when Mickey swings open the door and crosses his arms over his chest, tugging at the buttons of his black dress shirt.

Okay, formal, Ian thinks, taking in Mickey’s slicked back hair and the smoke of his cologne.

Ian regrets his tee and jeans, missing the authority and confidence of his uniform. But Mickey doesn’t seem to mind—there’s hunger in his gaze again, twin storm clouds rolling in over a calm sea.

For a moment, they both look their fill.

Ian opens his mouth to speak, but fails.

Mickey smirks. “Comin’ in or what, Mushmouth?”

🔮💨

He steps back, giving Ian space to cross over the threshold; inviting him to close the distance between them, and commit to finding out what comes next.

Ian obeys every silent order. His feet move of their own volition, as if they’re attached to a ratchet wrench that pulls him forward in one direction, and one direction only: towards Mickey.

The electric current that runs between them had felt innocent enough last week, and then again, today, in the fresh air of the porch.

But when Mickey shuts the door to behind them, Ian realizes he’s caught in a trap.

🔮💨

The house smells different. Good, even? Like something's cooking in an oven that hasn’t been used in years. It’s familiar in a way that tickles at Ian’s memory and further drops his defenses.

Mickey doesn’t mention it. He just brushes past Ian, leading them towards the room he’s been using for business.

On the table, next to Mickey’s bong, is a platter of pizza rolls. Ian’s mouth waters.

Mickey thumbs at his nose. “You’ve lost your way, you think your life is wrecked,” he says, taking his seat. “Well, let me just say you're correct.”

Ian blinks twice. “Wait, what?”

🔮💨

Mickey’s eerie silence pulls the moisture from his mouth until he’s nothing more than a shriveled sack of dust. A tumbleweed in the desert, crawling towards an oasis that might not be real.

What Ian wouldn’t give for Mickey to pick up his piece and press his worries into the earth; bury them in the plush of ground weed. He wants to watch the water swirl beneath colored glass, wants to watch the fire turn into steam and smoke. Needs to see the air fill Mickey’s chest, raise his shoulders and bloat his lungs.

Finally:

“I know your secret, Gallagher.”

🔮💨

Ian’s heart kicks in his chest, a jolt of fear spiking through him, and his head swims. It’s like he’s back inside the dark theatre he’d been in all week. Mickey’s words are nothing but unfamiliar sounds.

If he’s gonna go to the movies, he might as well get a snack.

He grabs a pizza roll from the plate in front of him and pops it in his mouth. But when he bites down, the inevitable happens.

“Fuck,” he garbles, the sauce piping hot and burning his mouth.

Ian doubles over, in pain and embarrassed. He really should’ve known better.

🔮💨

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey huffs, standing up and leaving the room.

Ian opens his inferno of a mouth, hoping the air of the room will cool down the masticated snack. Thankfully, by the time he hears the familiar sound of a beer cap being popped off, he’s able to swallow.

Mickey returns, bottle in hand. He offers it to Ian. “S’all we got.”

Ian takes it, grateful as the icy liquid chills his charred throat. “All you got, huh? Even juvie’s got jello.”

“What d’you know about juvie, Gallagher?”

Mickey’s squint makes Ian’s chest constrict.

“What d’you know about me, Milkovich?”

[strawberrykake]

Sunkissed

requested. beach dates! descriptions of hot haikyuu men's beach bodies be aware, bring some ice to cool down probably lol. Daichi and reader enjoy bbq (sorry, anti-meat eaters). Oikawa wears his alien goggles.

[ reader x ] : oikawa. kuroo. akaashi. daichi

✺ oikawa

beach dates are always fun w/ this man <33

your excited bf wakes up early in the morning to prepare

brings all the things you need including his alien-shaped goggles

a great excuse to admire his abs under the golden sun

lots of swimming and hanging out in the cool water <3

“Like what you see, gorgeous?” he says with a smirk when you’re admiring his toned chest. His eyes are also scan over you, admiring his lover.

Then, you notice the dorky alien goggles around his neck and the image tickles you.

“Uh huh,” you say, chuckling. “Those goggles really add to your charm.”

“Heh, you think so?” He playfully splashes a bit of water toward you when your approaching the ocean waves. You’re hopping straight into the water as he drags you in.

Oikawa doesn’t forget his waterproof camera and takes a lot of photos of you (mostly candid) which he will delightfully keep in his wallet or phone lockscreen.

“Wanna race?” he offers just to show off his amazing swimming skills. Even if he won the race, you couldn’t be mad bc of how hot it was seeing the speed of his strokes. You swore he could’ve been a mermaid in his past life

“Haha! I winnn!” he declares, throwing his fist in the air after reaching the goal-point. It was hilarious to see his alien goggles still tightly worn around his eyes.

You roll your eyes before your boyfriend grabs your waist from under the water, making you shriek and pulls you closer, eyes begging for something. "Do I get a prize?" he snickers. He doesn't have to ask twice.

You grab the sides of his head, startling the man, before smashing your lips against his. Oikawa pulls away, surprised, before tugging his alien goggles down and bringing you in a deeper kiss. He didn't care about moving his wet, messy bangs out of the way but neither did you as your legs wrap around his waist beneath the ocean surface.

✺ kuroo

asks you to 'do his sunscreen for him' even though he knows he's well capable of doing it himself

jus loves feeling your hands on his skin and the way you squeeze his shoulders as a way of telling him you're done

'thank you' kisses for doing it

rubbing shapes on his skin as he lays on his stomach, suntanning

building small sand castles

chasing each other on the sand !!

You may have "accidentally" poked one of his 'sand towers', making it crumble more than you intended.

Kuroo's eyes flash towards you and it feels like that moment when a cat gives you its 'attack eyes'.

You scatter backwards and he gets up, raking a hand over his hair.

"You're so gonna pay for that." Kuroo's voice darkens and you squeal, watching him kick his heel against the sand, ready to pounce. Now, you're chasing each other on the sand. He finally catches you, arms lifting you up and walking towards the shoreline. Without warning, he dives into the water.

"Tetsu!!' you yelp, feeling the cold liquid stun your sunkissed skin. He turns around with a grin on his lips. Not another word leaves your mouth as you fall back and stare at his wet hair, water trickling down his heaving chest. Of course, it boosts his ego when you're caught ogling him.

"Eyes up here, angel." He chuckles as your face turns red from embarrassment. Once again, Kuroo dives underwater, swimming towards you. He resurfaces with his face inches away from yours. His once spiky hair is now flattened from being dipped in water.

“Haha, babe, your hair—.” You laugh but it soon cuts off with Kuroo’s lips on yours. The kiss breaks off earlier than intended as he tries to catch his breath.

“Hm,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Stop talking about my hair and kiss me. Don’t forget, baby, you still owe me.”

✺ akaashi

always comforting + takes care of you well

kissing the back of your neck while applying sunscreen has become a habit

surprising you with nice refreshing ice cream that he bought from the vendor across the street

lying on your back against his chest while he's reading a magazine

one of his hands is placed over your heart, feeling the soft beats

he guessed that you probably fell asleep on him as he starts to hear you snooze

“Sweetheart,” your boyfriend whispers gently, but you continue to sleep.

Meanwhile, the blazing sun scatters over the pearly sands. It's a good thing Akaashi remembered to bring your beach umbrella to provide some shade as you lay on a large, soft towel. However, the shadow had moved above your face. Akaashi notices and places a hand over your face to block the sun from your eyes.

"Keiji," you murmur your boyfriend's name. He hums a response, grabbing your hand and placing his lips on the back of it.

"Wanna swim?" you suggest, voice laced with sleep.

He chuckles, moving straying hairs away from your face. “You wanna go for a swim?” You nod.

Akaashi shifts his shades over his bangs. "Okay, let's go." He takes a sip of his cold soda before standing up. “Come here, love.” Arms circle around your waist and you naturally cling onto him. He knew you were still feeling a bit tired from the small nap, although, you also wanted to take the opportunity to dip yourself into the cool sea before the sun goes down.

“Too cold?” he asks when he feels you slightly shiver from contact with the water. You were still in his arms, leaning your head against his neck.

“Nope S’alright,” you say, softly. Eventually, the coldness becomes comforting and it was all too comfortable because soon enough, your eyes start to droop once again, being swayed between waves while your lover holds you close, humming.

Akaashi seems to notice. “Sleepyhead,” he teases, placing a peck on your forehead.

“I’m not sleeping,” you murmur before dropping under the water to freshen yourself. He laughs, tilting his head back. The colden liquid definitely revitalized your senses as you felt the playful urge to splash water to your boyfriend.

“Huh, so you wanna play?” he starts with a warning tone which makes you giggle. “You started this.” You begin swimming away as he chases after you in the ocean. He definitely could out-swim you but decides to move at a slower pace, giving you some time before he has his arms around you again.

✺ daichi

you’re the cheesy couple wearing matching bathing suits

would bring an entire cooler filled with ice and drinks

plus a small grill to cook some meat while you go for a dip in the ocean

you’d look over to admire the view: dark sunglasses on, thongs between his fingers as he flips the meat, toned chest glowing from the lotion he applied earlier

he’s smiling when your eyes meet

“Sure you don’t wanna swim, babe?” you ask, unraveling the towel from your hips. A faint blush appears on his cheeks as you do so. It’s a good thing his frames were too dark to notice where his eyes were, he thought. Your legs were now exposed, the warm sun tickling your skin, itching to dip itself into the cool ocean.

He clears his throat, making it more obvious that he was being enchanted by you. “I-it’s okay, love. I’ll join you after.” He resumes flipping the meat before opening a container from your picnic basket.

“Alright, suit yourself,” you giggle before jogging into the ocean. Daichi’s eyes return to you, taking in the scene before him, your curves, your sunkissed skin, the way your hair ruffles in the wind. Then, he’s chuckling to himself as he pops a grape into his mouth.

You’re having a nice time basking in the sun while your body simultaneously swishes around the water. From time to time, you’d look over to watch your lover on the grill, sometimes catching his eyes on you. Daichi would send a wave or lift his brows, a curve shown on his lips. Even from a distance, you could see his toned arms bulge with each movement of muscle.

At some point, he signals, letting you know the bbq is done. The aroma of bbq mixed with burnt charcoal fills the air as you approach back to the shady area where Daichi sits.

“I’m all wet,” you warn Daichi when he pulls your body down to his. In his hand was a pair of chopsticks holding a piece of meat between them. A hand cups under it as he gestures you to try his concoction.

“S’okay. Try this, baby.” His arms raise from both of your sides as you sit against his chest. Daichi didn’t mind that his chest and his trunks are dripping from your soaked form. He was going to swim, too, anyway.

You part your lips and take the piece of meat between your teeth. It was still quite warm. The nice crunchy texture and flavors on your tongue cause a happy noise to escape from your throat. “Mm! That’s really good, honey.” His chest fills with pride, watching you. Just seeing you this happy makes him giddy.

“Thanks—Mm!” You take one piece and turn slightly backwards to feed him while he spoke. His eyes seem to light up from the taste. “Wow, you’re right.” You spend the next moments together enjoying lunch on the beach, enjoying the scenery.

Daichi didn’t mind that his chest and his trunks are now dripping from your soaked form. He was going to swim, too, anyway.

[iosagol]

I understand why some might think Superman 1978 is cheesy But no Christopher Reeve plays that man like an utter god

You see Clark Kent (1978): ~ *pretends to faint to cover up for the fact he was shot in the chest and the bullet bounced harmlessly off him* ~ *built an ice castle like Elsa* ~ *once spent twelve years straight watching videos about space and alien culture* ~ *after saving his coworker from a crashing burning helicopter* Statistically speaking, this is still the safest mode of travel :DD ~ *very seriously in an interview* I do like the color pink. ~ *puts on the most elaborate squeaky voice and nerd glasses to disguise himself as A Normal Man and you know what he's actually unrecognizable* ~ *traveled to the North pole in nothing but Kansas flannel and jeans*

This movie Is what I want superhero movies to be again No battling with nukes and giant lizards to save the multiverse universe solar system No nazis, no ninjas Just a mashup of Megamind and Star Trek Just an alien growing up in the golden wheat of Kansass and working at an energetic news company Just a reporter being stunned into understandable awe of this inhuman person that is saving people across the city, and actually spending several minutes to recite a bit of decently adorable poetry in a voice-over as Superman and Lois reenact Alladin and Jasmine going flying in a starry night There's not a shred of green screen there No crazy action sequences It's people being silly, flirty, embarrassed, confused, dorky, etc.

It puts the man in superman