#goddammit I love this movie too much

[lukasagitta]

.

[vee-tdc]

Should I be worried that the Despicable Me movies are quickly becoming my comfort franchise? The first especially?

[notroosterbradshaw]

Pomp

In which Rooster comes home, established relationship. No smut, just fluff. Some swears. But it’s the Navy, goddammit!

“Holy shit, they just know how to make an entrance, don't they?” your sister grinned, pointing at the entrance of the Hard Deck as you looked up at all the commotion at the door. The hoots and hollering of “ROOSTER!” and “MAV!” as they entered, appreciating the love, adulation, laughter, high-fives and handshakes. They were back.

Rooster first, walking in like he was walking a runway, Mav proudly on his heels. Standing on the base of the bar stool to see through the mob, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as before your body moved, ducking and weaving through excited patrons, past the cheering of your one and only.

He stopped mid-strut and carefully slid his aviators off into the collar of his wifebeater, slow and purposeful, surreal like a movie, as you slowed and he opened his eager arms to you. "You are a sight for sore eyes," he murmured quietly as Mav clapped him on the back and continued through the throng to Penny at the bar. You bolted into his strong arms and he enveloped you wholly, your feet losing touch with the ground. He lifted you into his grasp like a constrictor. “My God,” he whispered in your ear, nose nuzzling. His strong palms gripped around the back of your ribs, pulling close so you felt like you were one, as close as humanly possible and he left a single kiss on your lips.

Neither of you cared about the catcalling and whistles around you because none of that noise mattered. All sound died and all you could hear was the other’s breath.

”The audacity of you not telling me you were coming home,” you threatened, pathetic and lame in his arms as he kissed you deeply.

He hummed in response. “I know,” he whispered against your lips. “And I apologise. But damn I love surprising you," he added, a little breathless himself. Breaking the kiss broke your heart, you had missed his taste, as he peppered kisses around your face, the bristles of his well-maintained moustache tickling and teasing all at once. He refused to miss an inch. ”I’ve missed you so much.”

You gently caressed his face, making sure he was all before you in one piece, your knuckles grazed his light scars, traced around his dark brows, his tired eyes fluttering closed and he sighed. "Feels so good," he shuddered lightly in the quiet of you both, he was a sucker for your touch and it brought him to his mercy many a time. Encouraged, your fingertips fluttered across his cheekbones, down his once-too-many-times broken nose and to his lips.

“I’m so glad your home,” you told him, unable to hold back the tears and single sob from months of loneliness of Bradley on tour. It never got any easier. Whether you were friends or lovers, his time away from him aged you. Changed you.

Releasing you gently, he used his thumb to guide the tears away. “Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. I'm here now," he cooed, lowering you to the ground, hiding you from onlookers too keen to witness your happy misery. "I got you, I'm here. I'm home," he repeated, his hands pressed into your back, hoping to claim you and bring your face back to his. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," you promised, taking a deep breath before bubbling into a sheepish giggle. "So fucking embarrassing."

He put you at arm's length and guided you to a slow pirouette, distracting you. “Oh, my,” he licked his bottom lip as he watched you blush under his hot gaze. "And I'm the lucky bastard that gets to take you home?"

Your emotions were a mess, he took the lead to distract you... with a feast for his eyes. "Undecided," you taunted as he smiled, an action that could cause mass casualties to anyone in its reach - still affected you the same. A little snicker escaped his lips.

"That smart fuckin' mouth."

After all these years, he still found a way to make you melt. He was all around you with an uncanny knack to overwhelm every single one of your senses. His eyes were dark and full of desire, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the room. But never a damn dark blonde tendril out of style. Your gaze dropped to take him in. The wifebeater was just too tight over the straining muscles where you could see the lines of the ridges of his chest and abs below it. He took such good care of himself, always in peak optimum condition and gee, you were lucky you were able to share it with him. You are almost salivated thinking about getting him all to yourself later.

A less-than-traditional black shirt strained over his strong back and well-worked biceps, a look so satisfyingly, sexily Rooster. The jeans glued to him, knowing what (or lack thereof) was underneath so poorly hidden as your bodies remained tight. But his musk had your head was spinning. A hint of clean laundry, freshly showered, your coconut-scented shampoo (so he'd gone home to find you first, you realised. Sneaky bastard) and he knew you were putty under his hands. “Have I got time to serenade you before I take you home? Got big plans for you tonight, sweet thing.”

You blushed into his chest, his chuckle vibrating against your flushed cheeks. God, his voice and sweet nothings had you transfixed. It was like he wasn’t real. He belonged to the sky… but he was all yours, here on earth. It was times like this you knew all eyes were on you, asking themselves what you had that they didn't... the attention of Rooster Bradshaw. And after all these years, you didn't know either.

He unwrapped himself from you and walked away, taking his shades and putting them back over his eyes, the familiar curve of his ass hypnotising you as he gripped the power to the jukebox, tossing it away unforgivingly. The jeering that came with it still caused you to grin behind your hand as Rooster kicked a leg over the stool to sit. Wide and taking up all the room, he stroked the dusty keys, unused in his absence.

"Knock it off," someone from the pool table howled. "Rooster's at the keys!"

And just like that, the crowd of adoring fans quieten. There were a few traditional songs the crew around here lived by - lost loving feelings and great balls of fire, but tonight was different. "Rooster is at the keys," he concurred with some appreciative cheers. You took him in, the sun-kissed blonde in his dark hair, those motherfucking traps to the curve of his back as he hunched momentarily back and curled back to gaze at you. "See that pretty little thing over there? Yeah, y'all do. I'm sure a few of you fellas have thought you could get her number tonight." he mocked with a chuckle, tinkling some notes. "How'd that work out for you?"

The sheer arrogance of him to boast you were his.

"That's the love of my life right there," he eyed the keys, unable to meet anyone's gaze in his moment of honesty. It wasn't his usual schtick in front of his friends and they all knew it. You meant something to him and if they were unclear to now - "She comes home with me. Just me..." another flutter of the slender fingers over keys.

"What about the heavens?" someone joked, not catching the change in the bar.

"I love the skies. The clouds, the speed, the adrenaline. But all that is comes second," he grinned widely, thankful for the joke to break the tension of the eyes on him and taking in the adulation, lapping it up like a big puppy dog.

God, he was made for it. The patrons, both military and civilian, were just putty in his hands and he fucking well knew it. The theatrics were in his blood.

"A lot of you know us. Together, before we finally opened our eyes to what was before us. Wasted a lot of time... And this song," he played the first few keys and you about died. "Means a lot to us. So if you don't mind, I'm going to make this about you, babydoll," he winked and you could swear, you saw the room swoon.

"My love must be a kind of blind love... I can't see anyone but you - "

The Navy loved a fucking ditty and you bit back a smile as Bob, dear Lord, sweet Bob, Payback and Fanboy joined him. They brought the 'sha bop - sha bop's' and those around Rooster started joining in, singing into their bottles of beer, Rooster's well-trained back-up.

Feeling a hand on your lower back, Maverick led you front and centre to Rooster as he crooned, "Are the stars out tonight? I don't know if it's cloudy or bright... I only have eyes for you, dear," he nodded his head for you to sit on his knee, fingers leaving the keys to wrap his arm around you and kissed you long and deep as the bar continued their impromptu sing-a-long.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his grand gesture leaving you breathless. "Maybe millions of people go by, but they all disappear from view... And I only have eyes for you..." the crowd continued their boisterous song and Rooster's eyes desperately searched yours, a small, shy smile clouding his features for your reassurance as the crowd roared and the world returned to normal, back to the bar, back to drunk flirting, back to yelling at the pool table, jukebox roaring back to life.

Just you and your Rooster lost together. No one else existed.

"That was amazing. I mean, I'm mortified," you held his face as he giggled, that was truly music to your ears. "But I loved it," He could be told a thousand times a day he was wonderful, but only one opinion ever mattered to him, and that was yours (Mav's a very, very distant second). Kissing him tenderly, you whispered, "I love you. I'm so happy you're home." You pulled his shades off, needing to see his eyes and for all the tease and performance, they were soft and he nodded.

"Me too, babydoll but I need you to myself now," he murmured, a little dreamy. "It's been a long few months. I need to hold you," he licked just behind your earlobe and you damn-near trembled. "Touch you, kiss you... make love to you."

Your skin scorched under his touch and shot back to reality as ice-cold glass touched your bare shoulder and you jolted. "Another round, lovers!" Hangman dumped cold beers in your hands before a blonde distraction took his attention.

"One more," you let him. His friends needed to see him, download the tour, the missions, the danger. In full, not the condensed versions he gave you that still scared you silly, regardless of his redactions. Flying was all you'd ever known to be true of Rooster... but it was the one thing that scared you the most too. You liked him close, two feet on the ground.

"One more," he promised. "Then we get outta here."

"My sister is over there," you told him politely, as she raised her bottle to him from the bar, phone in the other hand, giggling and swooning for your both with your friends.

"Oh, my God!" you could read her squealing lips.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered. "I've been pawing all over you since I walked in."

"It's okay. I'm sure she's not going to report back to Grandpa," you reassure him. Of course she would.

"And just when Viper was starting to like me too."

"Yeah," you gave a meek grin. "He still doesn't like you, Roost."

Shoulders slumping, Rooster sipped his beer. "Because I get to have sex with you, I bet that's why. Must be hard for him to think a stud like me gets to de-file his youngest granddaughter," he replied, unable to contain the smile that grew by the second.

"I hope and pray... he does not think of us having sex. He's 92."

"I hope I'm still thinking about having sex with you at 92," he continued, a shit-eating grin cast full across his face.

"You'll be lucky to fuck me beyond 34 at this point," you sighed, hopping up and leaving him with the bird.

"As long as I die between your legs, baby then I shall die happy," he called after you gleefully.

-- 

Rooster croons The Flamingos - I Only Have Eyes for You

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[bettysupremacy]

Family Video blues

Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader

Summary: With family videos broken AC, Steve has to take care of his poor heat exhausted girlfriend.

Warnings: food and mentions of eating, not drinking enough water, horrible summer heat, cursing, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, kind of sick! Reader maybe? Tell me if there’s more!

A/N: would you believe me if I told you this was supposed to be a completely different fic, but I got too caught up in Steve taking care of her? So here’s this love letter to my beloved Steve Harrington.

1.2k words, kinda short.

Cold AC is the only thing forgiving about working at Family Video during the summer. She could be out shopping with Max, or swimming with Robin, but no, she’s stuck in Family Videos horror section putting away returns.

Cold AC is the only thing forgiving about working at family video during the summer, but the AC broke three days ago.

Sweat trickles down her neck as she looks for the correct spot to put Gremlins, eyes scanning over the rows and rows of G horror movies. Keith insisted that they keep the movies in alphabetical order.

“Goddammit,” It comes out as a murmur, not wanting to disturb Robin and Steve, not wanting to pass her bad mood to her innocent coworkers, but ultimately she gives up, stuffing it between Godzilla: King of The Monster and Godzilla Raids Again.

It’s so hot in this goddamn store, she’s afraid the tapes will melt. Can they do that?

The heat seeps into her head making her brain foggy, so she grabs a new tape and sinks to her knees for a little reprieve.

When was the last time she drank water?

Alien. The new tape she grabbed is Alien, and she’s on the ground kneeling next to the fucking Z section. Her forehead makes slow contact with the metal holding the movies, it’s warm, and the VHS cover of Alien sitting in her lap mocks her. Bold, white, A, reminding her that she needs to stand up.

Someone cruelly flicks cold water onto her neck. She tenses up rigidly before turning her head.

“You hot, baby?” Steve stands over her, stainless steel water bottle popped open guiltily. “You feelin okay?”

The ice sloshes as he crouches next to her, gently ripping Alien from her grip, and looking at the big fat Z painted over the section she’s sitting in.

His big warm hand comes up to her forehead. “Have you drank enough water today? It’s really hot in here.”

“No.”

“No?” He hands his water bottle to her, mumbling “Drink a little more.” when she pulls it from her lips, and smiling when she listens.

“Let’s take lunch break.”

“What about Rob?”

Steve looks around the empty store warily. “I think Rob’ll manage.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.” The kiss he presses to her forehead is warm, but not unwelcome. She leans into his touch, frowning when he pulls back to help her up.

The employees only room is significantly cooler than the rest of the store. A box fan, that Steve bought, rests in the corner. Goosebumps rise to the skin of her arms immediately, and Steve smiles at the way she shivers.

“What’d you bring for lunch, babe?” He pulls a strand of sweat sticky hair from her forehead.

She shy’s away from his hand, “Forgot.”

“My girl forgot her lunch?” He tsks, pulling out the brown sack of lunch he brought today. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.” She could cry at the way Steve is treating her right now, with such love and affection.

“Enough for a sandwich? Or just my chips?”

“I don’t wanna eat your lunch, Stevie.”

“Please.”

“What will you eat?”

Steve knows she won’t eat his food, not unless he eats with her, and he doesn’t want to be the reason guilt gnaws at her stomach. “You get half the sandwich and I’ll get the other half, okay?”

She looks hesitant.

“And I’ll share the chips. God forbid you eat the whole bag without me.”

She doesn’t smile very much, and he wasn’t expecting her to, but the twitch in the corner of her lips is a success in his books.

“Come sit on my lap.” She shakes her head no. “At least sit next to me.”

She moves to pull her chair out, but he moves quicker and pulls it closer to him. Steve recounts an old story as they eat together. Her soft responds in all the right places gets him every time.

“-And he was in the kitchen mixing a drink!”

“But he told you he was out of town? That’s so rude.”

“Exactly!”

When they’re almost finished, he fishes the rest of the zips out of the bag and dumps them on her zip lock bag, accepting it when she lifts one up to his mouth. He lifts one up to her mouth and she turns her head.

“Um, no? You can’t feed me but deny me feeding you? Eat the chip.“

She giggles at the offense dripping from his voice, turning her head farther away. He grabs her cheeks in his left hand, managing to get her to look at him, while his right hand holds the chip.

“Eat the chip.”

Her shoulders are shaking with silent giggles as he looks at her very mock sternly.

“Eat it.” He bites back a laugh.

She accepts the chip into her mouth, letting her giggles get louder when he drops his hand from her face. A fond smile works it’s way onto his lips as he watches her laugh.

“There’s my smiley girl, where’s she been?”

“Waiting in the AC.”

“Oh, makes sense. Will she come out with me to finish putting the horror returns away?”

“I’m putting the horror returns away, you’re doing romance.”

“What? I can’t help you and then do my own?”

“Keith will get mad.”

“Keith’s always mad about something.”

She huffs out indignantly, looking away. Steve can’t stand the couple seconds that her eyes aren’t on him. He taps her cheek twice.

“Let me come help, please? If not for your sake, for Keith’s sake. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see Alien in the Z section.”

He can’t help but laugh when he watches her jaw drop. “You’re using that against me? I was hot. I was dying from..”

“Heatstroke?”

“Heatstroke!”

“Heat exhaustion?”

“Maybe!”

He giggles boyishly. It drips with a sticky fondness that has her facade crumbling.

“C’mere.” He reaches his arms out wide for her, and this time she doesn’t deny him of her sitting on his lap. Arms wrapped around each other languidly, their shirts cling to each other’s sweaty skin. “Gimme a kiss.”

She doesn’t deny him of that either.

“You gotta tell me when you’re not feeling so hot.” He rests his forehead to her temple.

“I was feeling really hot.”

His nose nudges hers, “You know what I mean.”

She nods, closing her eyes and accepting the kiss he presses to the corner of her mouth.

“Jus’ wanna take care of you.”

She wraps her arms a little tighter around his neck, nuzzling her nose into the side of his neck. She wishes she could kiss it. She does.

He preens delightedly, so she does it again.

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

He presses her lips into her hair, silently shaking his head no.

“Oh my god, are you for real?” They look up to see Robin standing in the doorway, lunch box in hand. “How could you cuddle in these temperatures? Fucking disgusting I tell you.”

She sits across from them, shoving their lunch garbage out of the way to stick her own down.

“Oh yeah, just move our shit Robs.”

“Okay.” She pushes the chip bag away from her.

The look he gives Y/N is coated in bafflement, but he can’t keep it on his face when he sees her shoulders shaking in silent giggles again. He leans down to press a sticky kiss to her lips.

“I’m eating here.”

[tired-biscuit]

thinking about stepbro!jotaro and how gentle and delicate he treats you.. his little love, sweet kisses and the scent of his cologne, beckoning you into his room when your parents are away so he can give you proper loving.. swears he’s gonna run away with you, far away from all this shit he didn’t sign up for..

i definitely see this for an older, more mature version of jotaro!! <3

cw: stepcest // 18+ mdni, fem!reader

like, when he's well into his early twenties and finally over the angst phase; ready to open up his heart a little and allow for love to seep in. surprisingly, the person he picks for it is the one girl who shouldn't even be an option. you - his pretty little stepsister.

it's all super cautious and slow at first. he starts smiling more; this faint twitch of a mouth whenever you look at him across the dinner table or enter his room to borrow a hoodie he all of sudden doesn't fuss about letting you wear anymore.

then, it moves on to little conversations in the middle of the night. these innocent chats that happen when you're both hungry or thirsty; rummaging through the fridge as quietly as you can whilst you search for snacks and juice, hoping it won't wake up your parents.

whispering and giggling in hushed little wheezes at how tousled his hair is, you never notice the way his eyes linger on your tiny pyjama shorts. or how the tiny droplet of juice that escapes the corner of your lips makes his green eyes darker, especially when it cascades down your chin and threatens to flow along the column of your neck.

and jotaro, well, he pretends he doesn't notice it either. doesn't dare reach out to wipe it off, even if it's the only thing that's plaguing his mind. goddammit, he wants to feel your pulse thrumming underneath his fingers, but he knows better.

so no matter how intense the want - the need, it takes him months to allow himself any actual physical contact. and he isn't even the one to initiate it first! he tries to hold back, he really does, but you've grown closer ever since he's become more easy-going, so avoiding you and your grabby little hands becomes a rather hard task to accomplish.

after all, you start hugging him whenever you leave to sleep over at your best friend's house for the weekend - just this new, seemingly innocent way of saying goodbye to your dear big stepbrother. start pecking his cheek and ruffling his hair just to provoke that placid demeanor; stepping on the tips of your toes and making the dark spikes stick in every direction as he tries not to look at you too much, to not breathe in your scent too obviously. you're just so fucking close, for fuck's sake. it drives him up the walls.

and you grow so close, too. it's a slow process, yes, but it's also a steady one and thus doesn't feel forced at all. he becomes your favourite person to go to for literally anything, and you don't even notice the change.

all of a sudden you're constantly in his room. telling him everything that crosses your mind, spilling gossip about your friends that he doesn't particularly care about, as well as the secrets that do intrigue him. you watch movies with him. play video games that make you pout when you lose. sleep in his bed when you're too 'tired' to drag yourself to your room, even if it's just down the hall. when you're too 'scared' because your parents had gone on vacation, and you're all alone and want your big brother to keep you safe.

and surprisingly, jotaro lets you. any excuse is good at this point.

so it's no wonder how those innocent nights of sharing a bed turn into something more. he tells himself it's just bonding, that there's nothing wrong with that, even if your leg is draped over his middle, and his calloused fingers are stroking your thigh. even if your hand is caressing the side of his face, digits tucked into his thick hair, and he grunts when you tug on it as a 'joke' that neither of you finds all that funny. even if your gazes connect in the dark then, and your faces are so close that the tips of your noses are almost touching.

everything is so smooth and sweet that he barely even registers the kiss you dip in to place upon his lips on the third night. it's careful and soft; it makes you feel so warm inside - blazing hot, actually - that the need to take your clothes off as an attempt to cool down feels right as he pushes you onto your back and takes control. that having his strong and burly body - christ, he's just so big - between your legs a moment after feels right, too, because it means he'll protect you from anything - even from the sudden heat to plague you.

you did say you wanted him to keep you safe, after all.

and you know that he will. he's just so sweet and gentle despite his intimidating size. eats you out like a man gone starved because he wants to spoil you, ignoring your breathless whines about how you're burning up as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive clit and sucks it into his mouth. smothers you in kisses that leave tingles all over your hot, naked skin. really treats you like a princess, he's all hushed groans and praises the moment he finally sinks balls deep inside your cute little cunt and makes your eyes cross from the pressure.

he'll protect you from the heat, all right.

he'll fuck it right out of you, actually.

[lothcatthree]

my darling<3<3 i have very much enjoyed everything you've told me about the coffee/pastry shop au so feel free to feed me more (pun intended) but i am also very intrigued by this ballerina au 👀👀

hi babe!!! sorry this took so long, but i got my ass in gear and made a snippet.

(psst, @brokenphoenix99 @violentcheese @forloveofcodywan @halfwaytoknowhere this one is for y'all too)

here, obi-wan is a professional ballerina and cody is an ex-marine who decided to be a sports medicine physical therapist at a clinic owned by kix. waxer is a kindergarten teacher, which isn't important to the plot but i thought you'd like that info <3

this would be another long-ish fic where obi-wan starts out as cody's patient and ends up pursuing him. cody is very confused because he's trying to stay professional, but obi-wan is so handsome and nice and funny and goddammit he's making cody fall in love with him, ethics be damned.

hilarity and shenanigans ensue.

here's a snippet for their first meeting (obi-wan gets to be a little slutty, as a treat)

Cody is a professional, you see.

He’s never had an issue separating work from his personal life, which really hasn’t been difficult, seeing as most of his patients have been teenaged athletes or huge burly football players that speak a grand total of five words to Cody and prefer to communicate through grunts and pointing at where it hurts.

And then there’s Obi-Wan.

When Cody heard he was being referred to a new client, a professional ballerina, Cody expected something like a tiny, rail-thin person to walk through his door with shitty ankles and a shittier attitude. Not that Cody has anything against ballerinas, specifically, but his only experience has been movies and TV shows and sue him for never meeting one in person.

And then…

There’s Obi-Wan.

Cody is not expecting the man that does walk through the door of the clinic with bright blue eyes, a kind smile, and soft auburn hair that falls just above his shoulders. Where Cody expected all ballerinas to be sharp edges, this man just looks so… soft.

And then he speaks.

“Hi, my name is Obi-Wan. I’m here to see…” Obi-Wan trails off and checks his phone, “Dr. Cody Fett?”

Cody springs into action from where he was more or less creepily lurking in the clinic, watching from a spot that gives him a view of the front desk. It’s his favorite spot to throw things at Jesse, their receptionist, when he’s not looking.

Cody strides into the lobby, attempting to act casual and if he wasn’t just gawking over the man that walked in. The man’s (Obi-Wan, Cody reminds himself) eyes dart to him and Cody tries to keep a straight face, but it feels like he’s burning under the gaze for some reason.

“Hi, that’s me,” Cody curves around the desk and stands a few feet in front of Obi-Wan, extending a hand.

Obi-Wan offers him another smile; a flash of white teeth and a small dimple on his chin. Cody watches his eyes assess Cody and dip down his body, but Cody brushes it off. It’s not the first time a patient has checked him out, though usually they’re more subtle.

He quickly sets the water bottle he’s carrying (it’s covered in stickers, and Cody registers a pride flag sticker, but decides to shove that information away) onto the desk to shake Cody’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for getting me into your schedule so quickly. I have a recital coming up in a few weeks and I really need to get this bum knee figured out,” Obi-Wan says, taking his hand away and gesturing to his right knee, which is covered in a brace that fits underneath the hem of his biker shorts.

Cody returns his hand to his side, sliding it into the pocket of his black scrub joggers and politely laughs. He has the urge to ask where Obi-Wan’s (wonderfully smooth) accent is from, but that’s got nothing to do with his care and Cody internally chastises himself.

Focus.

“It’s no problem. Why don’t you go ahead and come back with me and we can figure out what’s going on? You can put your stuff on that table at the back” Cody says, gesturing to some cubbies they got for free when Waxer emptied out his old classroom.

Obi-Wan shoots him a grateful smile and begins walking into the clinic just ahead of Cody. After a step, though, Obi-Wan drops his phone, which would be fine, except he abruptly bends at the waist to pick it up. His back arches probably a little more than necessary, and the biker shorts don’t leave a lot of his body to the imagination.

Cody, thanking every possible deity that he still has quick reflexes from his Marine days, stops and flies a hand out to grip the desk to prevent himself from tripping and promptly running his pelvis into what is, unfortunately, a fantastic ass.

Obi-Wan grabs his phone and stands back up fluidly, turning over his shoulder to shoot Cody a smile that, well… It's been a while since Cody’s gotten around, but he could swear it’s flirtatious.

“Sorry. Can’t bend at the knees,” Obi-Wan explains, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

In fact, he quickly drags his eyes down Cody’s body and Cody could swear he bites his lip before turning on his heel and walking to the cubbies.

Cody doesn’t respond and he feels his face has heated up, so he turns to Jesse to make sure that all of that actually just happened. Jesse turns from where he was watching Obi-Wan and looks to Cody with slightly raised brows before he gets a look at Cody’s blush and bites his lip to hide a smile.

“Did you se-” Cody begins to whisper.

“I saw it,” Jesse nods and snickers.

Cody blinks dumbly at Jesse, his systems still a little offline as he tries to process that a patient (a beautiful one, but that’s entirely besides the point) just openly flirted with him and tried to get him to look at his ass (it worked, but that’s entirely besides the point).

Jesse looks over at Obi-Wan again and breaks out into an amused grin, his hand coming up to rub at his mouth. He turns to look at Cody again and Cody is a little scared of what he just saw.

Jesse jerks his head over to Obi-Wan and Cody gulps before looking over there. Obi-Wan is working on re-tying his shoes, which is innocent enough, but…

That motherfucker is bending at the knee.

[sakuralovespossums]

Nikolai Gogol x Autistic Reader

(Because I haven’t been able to find any goddammit)

(Also I’ll be going off of my own autistic traits/experiences)

Warning: this is Nikolai, so expect gore, violence, and morbid thoughts

I feel like Nikolai wouldn’t really know much about autism or being neurodivergent. He’ll prbly go to Fyodor to learn more.

But he does know that you have certain interests, traits, dislikes, and ways of seeing things and thinking that differs from the most other people.

He loves that about you!

He likes to watch you stim and finds it funny and cute.

He’ll then join in cause it looks like fun!

Considering he already moves around a lot whenever he’s excited, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out he’s also on the spectrum.

Nikolai values freedom from physical/human constraints. So I feel like he might pity you for your aversions to certain textures, smells, foods, etc.

He can’t imagine how hellish it must be to imprisoned by all these overbearing stimulations.

If only he could shed you of your human body so that you can finally be free from all it all!

He’ll be more upset when he hears about any past negative experiences you may have had with ableist people and societal expectations.

Nikolai HATES being forced to conform!!! How dare they try to snap your wings!!

He’ll prbly teleport off somewhere to go torture/kill some random unlucky person to let out his anger.

Will casually describe his recent killings and tortures of his targets in the DOA to you with his upbeat demeanor. He might even show you pictures!

“This one’s one of my favorites!!! It almost looks like spaghetti noodles, doesn’t it?!”

It’s a picture of a government official having his brain pulled out through his nose.

If it makes you uncomfortable, he’d prbly find your discomfort odd but stop.

Since you tell him a lot about your hyperfixations and special interests, he likes to describe his disturbing knowledge on the human body and all the creative ways to kill and harm them.

Man will randomly bite you like a dog. Have you seen those teeth?

Nikolai would definitely pick you up and toss you around in and out of his cape portal like a toy, if you happen to be short.

Hell, he’ll do it regardless of your height. He’s already taller than everyone.

Sure, you can touch his hair! Just don’t pull or he’ll bite your fingers off, hehehe!!

………………….

When your having a sensory overload/panic attack, he’ll immediately notice and teleport you both out of there to a much quieter place.

Nikolai means well and does like you, but he’s also a rather twisted clown who likes engaging in dangerous “games”

“Hey y/n!!! Wanna play this quiz where every time you lose, you have to stick a needle under a toenail?!”

“What?! You don’t?! That’s too bad! Aw well, maybe next time!”

Nikolai holds a deep resentment towards you for tying him down with human emotions and desires (love, patience, etc) and wants to kill you so that he can free himself.

There have been numerous times where he almost goes through with killing you in some brutal way. Yet he always stops at the very last moment since he can’t bring himself to do it.

Random headcanon: Nikolai would be a huge fan of the Saw and Terrifier movies

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵

♡ pairing: yoongi x reader (established relationship) ♡ rating: G ♡ genre: domestic fluff ♡ au: summer job ♡ tw: n/a ♡ wc: ~0.8k ♡ track: Miss Right ~ BTS: “I told you many qualifications about my Miss Right, but why you’re my Miss Right is… you are… just you.”

♡ summary: Yoongi specifically took this day off of work because he knew you needed to take a day off. So let him take care of you, goddammit.

♡ an: thanks to @daydreamer-writing for creating this prompt for me. i love you!! this is also going to be a kind of sequel to sugarplum sweetheart, but you don't need to have read that one first. 14 Valen-tans Days masterlist ♡♡ main masterlist

Yoongi woke up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee brewing from the kitchen. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he blindly reached for his phone to check the time. He wasn't even fully awake and the sun hadn't even fully risen yet, and there were already at least two things wrong with the day: coffee was brewing, and the bed was empty.

Yoongi loved you. Yoongi loved you so much that sometimes he didn't know what to do with himself. He forever owed Jimin and his girlfriend for introducing the two of you. You fit together like puzzle pieces or movies and popcorn or a thousand other things he could compare you to.

Right now, however, he was comparing you to an alarm that he thought he turned off but it somehow was still ringing.

You worked as a daycare teacher throughout the year, but you picked up a second job during the summer to make some extra money in the flourishing tourist scene. The problem is that Yoongi would describe you as a workaholic who didn't stop until someone forced you to.

Sighing, tossed his phone to the side and sat up. Today was supposed to be your day off. Yoongi had taken this day off specifically to make sure that you didn't do anything too strenuous. You were right on the verge of working yourself to sickness, and he told you last night that you couldn't get out of bed until after he did.

He knew you felt guilty when you spent time resting, but that was why he was here.

Yoongi walked quietly to the kitchen and took a moment just to watch you. The coffee was done and you were sipping at it slowly while you were dancing around preparing breakfast. You looked like a mess, but you were a hot mess and you were all his.

You needed to go back to bed and get some more sleep.

He padded across the floor and draped himself across your back as you mixed the pancake batter. You let out a quiet giggle. "You're not usually up this early."

"And I told you not to be up this early and that I would take care of things today." He didn't have to be looking at you to know you were rolling your eyes.

"I'm fine, Yoonie," you insisted, trying to hide a sniff. "It's just breakfast."

It was Yoongi's turn to roll his eyes at you. He reached around you to gently pull the whisk from your hand. "And I will finish this while you go back to sleep."

You turned around in his arms and wrapped yours around his shoulders. Yoongi could so clearly see the dark circles beneath your eyes. You needed rest, why were you being so stubborn?

(If the tables were turned, you'd be thinking the same things about him. You had pulled Yoongi from his studio after not seeing him for four days straight, usually with Hobi or Namjoon for backup).

"Yoonie~~" you drew out, "I'm fine, I promise. I'm capable of making breakfast."

"That's not what I said." He kissed the tip of your nose. "Jagiya, this is your first day off in months. Please let me take care of you this time."

He wasn't playing fair. Yoongi knew how hard it was for you to accept help from others, but he also knew you had a hard time telling him no when he so gently begged.

You sighed and laid your head on his shoulders. "I'll go back to bed after breakfast." Yoongi let out a small chuckle. That was fair. The batter was already made, and he didn't want the coffee to go cold. Although, between the two of you, even if it did it wouldn't go to waste.

"Alright, but no more coffee for you."

"Fine." You made no effort to move, content to be leaning against your boyfriend, and said boyfriend normally wouldn't mind, but—

"Jagiya, I need to move so I can make you breakfast." You groaned, but let him go, going to sit down at the table. "I'll be fast, okay? And then I'll wrap myself around you like a koala and we'll take an amazing morning nap together." You let out a sound of agreement and rested your head on your arms.

Yoongi worked quickly, whipping up and cooking the pancakes, even adding some scrambled eggs and bacon. He wasn't going to just let you have some basic-ass breakfast, he was going to go all out for you. You more than deserved it.

Right as he started plating the food to deliver to you, he heard a small snore behind him. Yoongi turned, and you were fast asleep, hunched over on the table. He let out a breathy laugh and set the plate down on the counter.

He gently shook you just awake enough to help you walk back to the bedroom and climb into bed. Hurrying back to the kitchen, he wrapped everything up and stored it in the fridge. Breakfast for lunch sounded just as good.

Then Yoongi went back to join you in bed, wrapping himself around you like a koala, and decided he could use a nap today too.

thanks for reading!!

[apex-nadir]

Today is my mom's birthday and I'm missing her a lot. She was a Birthday Person. As kids we'd wake up to gifts on the foot of our beds and our beloved cardboard cutout of Legolas wearing a party hat and leis. She was good at making you feel special and loved. As we got older we learned to reciprocate that for her and I loved that.

I still don't understand how only two years ago she was visiting me for her birthday, and now she's gone. And she was gone last April too. I don't understand. We had so much fun when she visited me for that last birthday. We danced and watched her favorite movies (The Best Years of Our Lives and Naussica), and goddammit it was too short. Just three days? Not enough, never enough. Today is really painful. She shouldn't be gone.

[distort-opia]

The joker has many names in many stories, but how did you (in your opinion or point of view) reveal the "true" origin of the villain and I loved it and I want you to do the same with the "true" name of the joker, please 🙏

Thank you, glad you had fun with my previous Joker-related meta! Oof, Joker's "true" name... That's a very thorny issue.

First of all, there's a canon name for Prime Earth Joker right now, and a canon origin. You guessed it, it's The Killing Joke one. This wasn't really surprising to me when it came out, the TKJ origin has been referenced as canon multiple times at this point; it's only the last name that remained a mystery. But then they revealed his name to be "Jack Oswald White":

Flashpoint Beyond #5

I'm pretty sure we all agree that the only good part of that is "Jack". Don't know why the hell they went for "Oswald" (let Penguin have the monopoly on that goddammit!), but "White" is not that much of a surprise, it's just... a bit boring. Basically, Joker's had "White" attributed to him before in the Arkham games, he used it as an alias.

The fan-favorite (and my own, actually) name for Joker is actually "Jack Napier". It's got a long history... First used in Tim Burton's Batman (1989), it then got adopted by Batman: The Animated Series, The Batman (2004) and multiple other adaptations, like the Black Label Batman: White Knight comic-- which is just the most famous recently, but Joker's been named "Jack Napier" in so many other Elseworld and alternate universe DC comics. However, the name has popped up in comics closer to main continuity too. Joker himself used it as an alias in the New 52, in Red Hood and the Outsiders; but more importantly...

Arkham Asylum: Madness

Tough to say how canon this comic is, but it's heavily implied Joker's surname is "Napier". And since it's been canonized Joker's kid would've been a boy, "Milton" was probably his name (if you follow Falls the Shadow, my Joker-centric fic, you're probably familiar). But most recently, and having the most weight, they showed that the Joker equivalent of one of the Dark Multiverses was named "Jack Napier":

Tales of the Dark Multiverse -- Batman: Hush

So... it's a bit of a mess. It's been made official that his name was "Jack Oswald White" (maybe they want to do something with the initials JOW??), but the name people have been using for him for years is "Jack Napier". More generally though, you'll find that even comics that never give him a last name use "Jack" (like Batman: Gotham Knights #54, or Batman: Three Jokers, or the name of Jokester, the good Joker of Earth-3).

...And alright, I can't help myself. I'll go ahead and rant about a pet theory of mine, since I think Zdarsky intentionally tried to fit this all into an explanation. He tried to do something about Joker being people with different names and even different genders (like Martha Wayne) across worlds. But everything from here on is a spoiler for the main Batman run, so I'll put it all under the cut.

In case you're not familiar with the plot of The Bat-Man of Gotham, basically Bruce got thrown into another Universe in which Batman didn't exist. Here he found a guy called Darwin Halliday or Red Mask, who never became Joker, but wanted to. He'd glimpsed into the Multiverse with a chemical, and as a result created a machine that allowed one to travel the numerous Universes. In their final confrontation, Bruce and Red Mask both get hurled across the Multiverse by the machine, and here's an interesting panel from a world (clearly Burton's Batman movie world) Bruce encounters:

Batman (2016) #135

They have Bruce see his name, and the name "Jack Napier" on panel. Meanwhile, the "sane" Joker Bruce is chasing is named "Darwin Halliday". Then there's freaking "Jack Oswald White" for Prime Earth, an existing alternate called "Jack Napier" in a Dark Multiverse, and don't even get me started on freaking "Alby", another potential Joker name from Detective Comics (2016) #1000.

Bruce however, in Zdarsky's story and not only, only has himself. All the Universes he hops through have "Bruce Wayne" as the connection, even when Bruce isn't Batman (like in Batman Beyond). Is Bruce the only one to be Batman? Of course not, different others have carried the mantle (like Dick Grayson, Jean-Paul Valley, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, James Gordon etc.). But I'm not trying to refer to worlds in which Bruce Wayne was Batman and then something happened to him and he was succeeded/replaced; I'm trying to refer to worlds in which someone else became Batman from the start. Those are quite rare, but they almost always have a Wayne: Thomas Wayne, or Helena Wayne. Even Owlman, the "evil" counterpart, is Bruce's brother.

Of course, the connection linking the Bruce Waynes is meant to be there so that the "infection" of Zur-en-Arrh can take place across the Multiverse. But then how exactly is Red Mask finding each Universe to jump into, right? How is he connecting mentally to all the Jokers, if the Jokers are different people and not the same as for Bruce? Why is it that whenever a Wayne becomes a Batman, someone becomes a Joker? Well...

Batman (2016) #135

So. Red Mask was following Batman, the one who's existence directly lead to Jack going insane and becoming Joker. Wherever there was a Batman, Red Mask precipitated the creation of a Joker... who wasn't always the same person. Just the person who needed a "push" into becoming it, hence explaining why Joker is different individuals. "Joker" is pretty much the cosmic curse following Batman, his inevitable shadow. (Not only that, depending on the moment Red Mask arrived, he also brought back the existing Jokers from the dead or made them worse.)

Now. Do I like this explanation? Not really, I think it sucks to unravel Joker's character so much and take away all his mystery, all the cool alternate interpretations. Not only that, but this explanation essentially takes away agency from Joker's character and attributes it to freaking... Multiverse shenanigans. However, I did appreciate Zdarsky's effort to give the whole thing some meaning. You don't see that frequently in comics. And in a way, it's so insanely soulmates-as-a-curse for Batman and Joker. They're so tied together it's impossible to unravel them.

[jawritter]

Tell me about how

ABO au with soilder boy, how would he treat an omega? Smut please

Always

Warnings: Smut, ABO Dynamics, Language, Knotting, Bonding, All the fun stuff that comes with ABO. Some Fluff. Mentions of murders. Hint of angst. 

Pairing: Alpha!Soldier Boy (Ben) x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 399

A/N: When I wrote this drabble the other night, I wasn’t in the best head space. So, I do hope this one is okay and makes sense. Thanks so much for reading y’all!!

Jens3kcelebration   Masterlist    

“Goddammit, such a good girl for me,” Ben praised as he rammed his thick length into your waiting heat over and over again. Each thrust was harder than the first, to the point you were no longer even in a presenting position, but were lying flat chested onto the bed, with this massive arm around your waist supporting you in place. 

You moan loudly and do your best to lift your hips as best as you could to support his weighty assault as pleasure ripped through your body and his knot started to swell catching at your entrance. 

This was Soldier Boy, or Ben as he let you call him, rough and possessive, hard on the edges, and not very forgiving. Some have even called him a murder, and you have too witnessed that side of him, but who could blame him? They had left him for dead!  You were more than eager to take place as his new Omega, because Alpha’s like Ben, well, they had a large appetite, one you were more than willing to do your best to fill. 

Just as his assault on your quivering cunt became almost unbearable, his knot popped and he came with a roar that would have scared the hell out anyone around, the warm glow from his chest on your back, but it died away quickly as you fell apart underneath. 

Quickly, Ben adjusted the pair of you into a more comfortable position, pulling you close to his heated skin as you breathed together to try and catch your breath. One body, one mind, an Alpha and his Omega. This was when you went to see the side of Ben no one else got to see. The side of Ben that was soft and caring as he nosed along your hairline, or held you close to him, kissing along your shoulder as the bond strengthened between the pair of you. He might have been a killer, he might have been dangerous, but he was your Alpha, and you his Omega, and you loved him, no matter how dangerous he was. 

“Do you love me?” He questioned, lacing his fingers with her own so as to keep her as close to him as possible. He was always so uncertain, and it broke her heart. 

“I love you Alpha,” you assure him, turning to bump your nose against his in a reaffirming gesture. “Always.”

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[justhere4thevibez]

Another ask!

Chrissy accidentally lets her Domme slip in front of people (they're hanging out with the elder members of the Party) and gets Eddie to sit still and the others are all 👀

heheheheh yessssss. this was a fun one! nothing explicit, but (as you can assume by the prompt) a lot of suggestive content.

“Eddie, be good.”

Chrissy punctuated this with a short tug to the hair at the nape of his neck, and Eddie settled immediately. He’d been such a little brat tonight, antagonizing Steve and amping up Robin for no good reason. Not to mention the suggestive comments and teasing touches he’d given her.

Enough was enough.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said meekly as he leaned into her side. “I’ll be a good boy for you.”

She stroked his hair soothingly as a way of accepting his apology (not that she wouldn’t have him make up for it later), and all would have been right in the world except—

“What the fuck,” Robin yelled from across the room.

Chrissy froze, her hand still tangled in Eddie’s hair as her gaze met Robin’s knowing look.

“Fuck,” she whispered, letting her hand drop to her lap.

They’d been so careful as they explored this new dynamic between them, always keeping it behind closed doors—or at least subtle enough in public. But Robin… well, Robin was a frequenter of queer spaces. Which meant she knew things. Things that other people probably wouldn’t pick up on in a million years.

Goddammit.

“What?” Steve looked up from where he’d been rummaging for popcorn for their movie night. “What’s wrong? Is there a bug?”

“Nope,” Robin said, her gaze frantically darting back and forth between Chrissy and Eddie. “It’s nothing. It’s fine. It’s—”

Chrissy sighed, knowing that if she didn’t cut Robin off she’d ramble all night long.

“Do you need to talk about it, Robin?” she asked, rubbing her hand nervously along her thigh. What would her friend say?

“God, yes,” Robin said, racing over and collapsing in the chair next to Chrissy. “So, is this—” she pointed between the two of them almost accusingly— “what I think it is? Like, are you—”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, clasping Chrissy’s restless hand between his. “It is. We are. Is that okay?”

God, she loved him so much. She was still learning what it meant to be in control—of Eddie, of herself. And she was almost… not embarrassed. But apologetic. Because it should be Eddie in charge, shouldn’t it? He was the loud one, he was the leader, he was the man. She shouldn’t want that kind of control at all.

But she did. And now that she knew what it felt like, she loved it. Craved it. And Eddie loved giving that control over to her. But he also had a sixth sense for when she froze up and got all squirrelly about it, too. And then he’d step back in, like a dance. A partnership. And right now, staring into Robin’s curious face, she needed that support.

“God, yeah, of course,” Robin said, flapping her hands dismissively. “You think I of all people would mind?” She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But, uh, I am… curious.”

“I like taking care of him,” Chrissy said quietly, giving Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “It makes me feel… whole.”

“She turns my brain off,” Eddie said, bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss. “It’s like I don’t have to think anymore, and I’m—I’m safe.” He gave Chrissy a teasing grin. “Who could resist getting under the spell of this incredible woman?”

Robin nodded knowingly. “Shit, yeah, if Chrissy said jump I’d say how high?”

“Guys,” Chrissy said, blushing—flattered, but still embarrassed. “Movie night?”

“Right.” Robin snapped to attention. “Oh, fuck, Steve.”

All three of them turned to the kitchen, where they could only see the lower half of Steve sticking out of a cabinet. With a triumphant ah-ha he emerged, his perfect hair a little worse for wear.

“Found it,” he said, brandishing the bags of popcorn. Then he stopped, puzzled. “You guys okay?”

“Fine,” Chrissy said, pursing her lips to keep from laughing.

“Yeah, let’s get this corn a-popping,” Robin said loudly, jumping up from her seat. She turned back to Chrissy for a moment. “Just so you know, I think it’s, uh, cool. And I’m glad you found each other.”

“Thanks, Robin,” she whispered, squeezing the other girl’s hand. “Maybe don’t—” she nodded in the direction of Steve, and Robin gave her a thumbs up.

“Oh, no way,” she said as she backed toward the kitchen. “I think his fucking head would explode.”

“I think something else of his might explode,” Eddie murmured in her ear, and she gripped his throat, light but with intention.

“Watch it, mister,” she said in a low voice. “Or you might regret it when we get home.”

He swallowed heavily, his throat muscles shifting under her hand. “I look forward to it.”

[maraschino-girl]

➳❥ Patrick Bateman Misc. Headcanons !!

✘ content warning: patrick being patrick !! ✘ 𖦹 had a morbidly obsessive interest in the human skin bound book, Des destinées de l'âme, in the Harvard University library. he couldn't read it, of course, but that didn't stop him from admiring it. 𖦹 he's extremely pissed he never had the chance to get into Studio 54 during its heyday. he tries for the successors, although they're not as iconic and void of all the genuine debauchery of the OG. 𖦹 adding onto the 'Kimball reflects light in his eyes' test theory, he also doesn't yawn when others do. slightly backed up by the novel only ever having him yawn first and never in response to others. 𖦹 he doesn't mention it, huge shocker, but we all know he loves the song 'Psycho Killer' by Talking Heads. 𖦹 watching Evil Dead 2 gave him some mighty fine inspiration for what to do with decapitated heads! 𖦹 movies he would adore: Slumber Party Massacre (1982), Videodrome (1983), Re-Animator (1985), Sorority House Massacre (1986), Prom Night (1980), Faces of Death (1978), Hud (1963), & Scarface (1983). 𖦹 he's the type to call a hue 'blood orange', 'evian blue', 'royal gold'--- you get the picture. 𖦹 favorite perfumes are fruity floral ones; especially cherry scents that have a sickening sweet aroma! akin to the high sweet scent of formaldehyde and rot! 𖦹 ate $2 pizza at a hole-in-the-wall during one of his 'episodes' and wanted to puke! just kidding, he did. nothing should ever have that much grease and marinara, goddammit! 𖦹 considering he's canonically a microwave cook, I'm sure he's destroyed any attempts of a romantic dinner in. a 'water caught on fire' kind of cook. 𖦹 his Aiwa stereo does have a turntable so I imagine he has a vast collection of vinyl records of not only his favourite albums but of classical music, film and musical soundtracks. 𖦹 had an incident at a drive-in theatre when he was in college. luckily it wasn't his car, and luckily it was some bookish bitch who wouldn't be missed! let's just say, she too, was gone with the wind. 𖦹 we already knew, but he's a massive voyeur. but expanding on that, I don't think he would mind watching certain men coughPrice bump uglies with a woman of his choice. this all due to his reactions and thoughts when watching his 'best friend' nearly have foreplay with his girlfriend right in the bedroom with him. 𖦹 y'know that porno that people joked about? the one where a woman calls out "Oh God! Oh God!" and the dude's like "There are no Gods here"? yeah, that's him.

𖦹 there's contradicting comments about how he was a child-- his mother states he was a nice boy, but that's a biased POV. regarding his confession about what he did to a maid on Christmas Eve at age 14, he definitely seemed like a creepy kid. y'know, those rich boys with the too gelled hair, big ol' eyes that stare right through you, and their lil pastel cardigan tied around their shoulders. he was like an oil painting whose eyes follow you everywhere you went. I don't see him as a 'I stuck the neighbours' dog's head on a stick' type, more of a 'I watch you sleep and shit talk you so everyone hates you' type !

[snootlestheangel]

Another SoapGaz Bromance Rant

As many of you should know by now, I am like the biggest advocate for the SoapGaz Bromance, but that also means Ghost and Gaz having a bro-ship. Not a bromance, but more like brothers in a way.

I have a couple other posts about this here and here; the second one being a short fic

ANYWAYS

What I'm trying to get at is I need more Ghost and Gaz bonding. There is no way in hell that either one of them is going to have the relationship they do with Soap without being more than just teammates.

The first post I linked does a much better job putting this all into words, so I suggest you read it first. It is late, my brain is fried from stress, and I am determined to get this out.

So now I'm thinking about all the times Ghost and Gaz have done something together, just the two of them, to get to know the other better. Yeah, it definitely starts out being just for Soap. They start out bonding and getting to know each other all because of Soap. Because Soap clearly loves both of them so much and he shouldn't have to choose. So they fix that. They start to get more comfortable with the other for the sake of Soap.

But then they realize they just enjoy each other's company. It's definitely nowhere near the same as Ghost and Soap's relationship, nor even Gaz and Soap's relationship, but it's definitely now more than "just teammates that became friends simply because of a third party".

It's a brotherly relationship.

It's Big Brother Ghost feeling those same protective feelings he had with Tommy. Seeing the innocence still there in Gaz and deciding to do anything in his power to protect that innocence; to protect Gaz. It's Ghost seeing that Gaz is stressed out and making sure he still finds the time to take care of himself. It's always brushed off with an excuse about how he doesn't want one of his men compromised because they skipped lunch or some shit. But they both know and understand that it's because Ghost cares about him.

It's Little Brother Gaz freaking out over something and seeking comfort/safety in the presence of Ghost. It's Gaz realizing he still has so much to learn when he watches Ghost train/teach recruits. It's Gaz helping Ghost get out of his shell by teasing him about his "crush" (ie teasing him about his relationship with Soap). It's Gaz being so annoying about it that it actually makes Ghost smile when he can tell Gaz off because "he's my boyfriend, dammit!".

It's Gaz dragging Ghost to various places (with or without Soap) to help heal his inner child because the last thing you want goddammit is for your best mate's boyfriend to not know what it's like to ride a fucking roller coaster. And yeah, Ghost grumbles that he's been in plenty of helicopters, isn't that the same thing? And Gaz just being absolutely floored because "No, it isn't!". What kind of friend would he be if he let Soap continue to date a man that's never had fucking cotton candy?! That's never watched the classic Disney movies?? That's never built a pillow fort?? A horrible friend is what!

It's Gaz helping Soap get little things for Ghost when the man spends too long looking at them in the little shops in town nearby base. It's Gaz helping Ghost figure out how to word properly so he can express his undying love for Soap (read as Gaz trying desperately to stop being the middle man because for fuck's sake they're already together, why does he still have to put up with this shit??)

It's Gaz and Ghost getting into intense prank wars because Gaz thought he was tough shit and decided to mess with Ghost one day and it just escalated.

But ya know what else their relationship is?

It's Ghost coming back to base one day and finding Gaz alone in a room, shaking and crying. It's Ghost sitting there with his friend, offering a hand just in case. It's Ghost helping Gaz get through a really bad panic attack because if anyone knows how to cope with those, it's him.

It's Gaz staying up with Ghost on the nights Johnny isn't there and he's having trouble fighting back the nightmares. It's Gaz keeping him distracted with stupid memes because of course Ghost is "such a boomer, how do you not know this meme??" And it's the laughter that makes Ghost feel good enough to fall asleep on the couch, even if he gets an earful from Gaz in the morning about falling asleep on his leg.

And at the end of the day, it's Soap watching quietly from the doorway, having gotten back early, watching as Ghost and Gaz trade insults towards the awful movie they're watching together. Soap is smiling, never having been happier. Cause yeah it's a little fucked up, but that's Simon's family right there, laughing and sharing a bowl of popcorn with him.

[mooodyblue]

Hi I loved the fic you just wrote about austin catching Elvis 🥵🥵🥵 do you think we could get a part 2 where Elvis is grinding on Austin’s thigh while he wears the leather pretty please with a cherry on top? 🥺 I LOVEEEE your writing thank you thank you thank youuuu!!!!!

ty for the request!!!! hope u enjoy <3 just a sprinkle of sub!e in there for ya just cause i love him very much

wc: 1k

masterlist

elvis did not ask for this.

he really did not ask for this.

out of all the places he could have turned up in, it had to be another man's apartment. now, he was stuck there, waking up and being forced to look at his now best friend's face every single morning. 

it confused him. everything was confusing. his feelings, his sexuality, everything. why did his best friend have to be….so hot?

for the longest time, he could get away with escaping to his bedroom and getting himself off because austin decided to wear a crop top around the house. or that time he came home in biker gear from one of the movies he shot. 

austin was the cause of him waking up with sticky sheets, it was embarrassing almost. he liked women goddammit!

but then he got caught. and since that day, it's been weird. they didn't even discuss it. they went on like normal. whatever though, austin was probably just bluffing about the leather pants he said he had. it was just a spur of the moment thing. he had to give them back, right?

wrong, apparently.

elvis was fine. he was accepting this weird, new lifestyle and feelings of his. but he felt himself spiral when austin walked through the front door wearing those leather pants that started this whole mess. he choked on his coke the moment he walked in, giving his chest a few hits with his fist to stop himself from choking on the fizzy drink. 

austin looked over at him, an eyebrow raised. “you alright?” 

“uh huh.” elvis replied all too fast, trying to keep his eyes up. his brain was alright but the stirring in his pants said otherwise. is this how the girls felt about his leather suit?

he knew about leather all too well, how it rubbed in all the wrong places and definitely the right places. he wanted to kill the person who came right out and revealed information about his little……accident during the special. by the looks of it, he could tell the leather was rubbing austin in the right places too. 

elvis quickly scattered away to the couch, opening up a book he was reading and putting his focus on that and not austin. 

austin took a seat next to him, his legs spread slightly, his knee almost touching elvis’s. “you been reading all day?” 

he turned to look at him, his eyes trying to focus on austin’s. “yes.”

“hm.” 

his eyes looked down at his book, shifting over to austin's legs and admiring how the leather stretched over this thighs. how if he squinted hard enough, he could see a print nuzzled against his thigh, the way it hugged him nicely. oh god. 

elvis cleared his throat, adjusting himself and the book in his lap, not wanting to get caught with another hard on because of his male best friend once again.

all the squirming beside austin got him curious, his brow raises again as he glanced at elvis. “don't be shy.” he said softly, a hint of his southern accent coming out to play. elvis shook his head in response, keeping his eyes glued to the book. 

austin cupped elvis's chin and gently turned his head to look at him, their eyes finally meeting. “i won't force you to do anything you don't wanna do.” he whispered, his thumb gently rubbing against the rough stubble on elvis's chin.

elvis shut his book, setting it aside as he looked back down at his pants. “can…can i….” he pointed, gesturing that he wanted to sit in his lap. austin welcomed him with a gentle nod, allowing elvis to cautiously sit on his knee. his hand ventured up his side as elvis let out a shuddered sigh, his cock twitching softly against his friend’s knee. 

his knee nudged up a bit, causing elvis to jolt slightly. “now, what’d you do that for?!” he gasped. 

austin chuckled softly, nudging hit knee up once more and then bouncing his knee up and down at a normal pace. elvis gasped out again, his hand immediately going to austin’s shoulder. “h-ho-hold on! hold on!” he said quickly. 

his cock was aching now, straining against his pajama pants once again because of his best friend. it took him a minute to compose himself, to think and decide if he really wanted to do this. but honestly, his cock desperately needed relief and those leather pants were looking a bit too tempting at the moment. 

elvis stood up to untie his pajama pants, letting them fall flat on the floor before resting himself on austin’s thigh again. the cool leather right against his balls felt so good. he didn't care anymore. he needed relief and he needed it now.

austin's hand went up to elvis’s side again, sliding under his shirt and against the soft flesh of his hip as he squeezed softly. “take your time, baby.” he said softly. “i know you love leather. you got experience with it, don't you?” he hummed. 

his breath shuddered, experimentally rocking his hips against his thigh, the cool leather rubbing against his cock. the subtle squeak underneath sent a shiver down his spine, enjoying the sensation all too well as he rocked his hips more. “austin.” he gasped. his hands went up to his shoulders, gripping them softly as he rode himself faster. 

“that's it, eli. doin’ so good.” austin cooed, rubbing elvis’s side as he rode his leather-cladded thigh. “so needy.” 

elvis’s hips rocked faster, his hands gripping tighter onto austin's shoulders as austin began to bounce his knee. “aus!” 

“c'mon, baby.” austin grinned, watching elvis hump his thigh like a needy dog. “you in heat or what? that why you're rubbin’ yourself on me like that?” 

he whined in response, his breathing getting heavier as his body tensed up. “aus, oh god.” elvis threw his head back, his cock twitching and spurting streaks of white onto austin’s leather pants and his shirt. “jesus—” he panted, his body collapsing against austin. 

“that's a good boy.” austin purred, petting elvis’s hair. his own cock was begging for a bit of relief, but he wanted to give elvis all his attention first. “such a good boy.”

elvis whined against his shoulder, panting and blushing red. “quit it.” 

“oh, but you like it don't you?” austin snickered. 

he didn't reply, just letting out a groan and sitting there in his sweaty, sticky mess. “just shut up.”

[hazelhavoc]

Watched the 48 second clip of RoTB: Prime vs. Primal and...

Everything was pretty good. But-

I'm so anxious for Wheeljack in the Rise of the Beasts Transformers movie.

It seems like they are making him the stereotypical nerd, and keeping his EXTREMELY ASS LOOK. (I like his body but his head just needs some work, and get rid of the damn glasses. Give him his original head sculpt please.)

People being introduced to Transformers are going to have this Wheeljack as their direct impression and I wanna rip my hair out because of it.

BECAUSE WHEELJACK DOESN'T ACT LIKE A NERD. HE'S A SMART SCIENTIST, ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT HIS WORK BUT NOT A STEREOTYPE. Acting like a nerd isn't bad- but when you make that the characters only character trait....suddenly, I can't take the character seriously. Like, onfg.

They aren't going to see the Wheeljack I love- (IDW, Prime, G1...)

Goddammit, god-

I'm going to cry. THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'M GOING TO BE ANNOYED AT A TRANSFORMERS CHARACTER, WHEELJACK NO LESS. THEY'RE GOING TO BUTCHER HIS CHARACTER. I CAN ALREADY TELL. GODDAMMIT. FUCKKKKKK

I love him so much too. This is going to hurt my soul fr. 🙁

(Not that I'm going to hate on people that like the character. You do you. I just think they could have handled the direction better. At least he's not an Einstein clone lol)

I hope. HOPE. That they don't make him a stereotype. Please Mr. Director. Please. Don't make him one note. Give him layers. 😭