#ik this beat..

[charmac]

Some Sunny/Abbott Crossover Promo designs, by Block & Tackle!

[bizarrelovetriangel]

Daily Lives of LADS Boys: would you survive running in their schedule?

[hinamie]

Blushing yuuji please?

u make a compelling argument

[qualityrain]

laughing at the implication that akechi played twewy as a kid, completely missed all the blatant messaging and the only thing he got out of it was wow. maybe murder is a love language.

edit: 1k on a shitpost get into twewy thank you

edit 2:

yeah this will also go into my belief system

[limbcom]

créme de la créme aftermath...

i refuse to believe that either one of them would leave each other after winning. they're friends, the winner would soo pull the other so they'd hold hands and stand atop the 1st place podium together. like

it's real it's canon trust me i'm pure vanilla's hat

[tiki-was-here]

The Deep x Marine Biologist Reader P1

Word Count: 1.1k

This takes place post gill breakdown . Basically hes so desperate for any sort of positive attention hed probably suck ur toes if you asked nicely. Also there’s like zero gifs of the deep cmon guys do better.

Also also CW for the deep being a teeny bit sexist at the start

The Deep sat hunched over on a plush armchair in his shitty apartment, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He was supposed to be on standby for a mission involving some flooding in a coastal city, but as usual, the others had it covered–despite the fact that he told Ashley that all water related missions were supposed to be his only. He sighed, tapping through social media, pausing his doom scrolling to occasionally say some not so PG words under the posts of a poor family taking a beach day out. If she wanted to post her ugly ass kids then she could have at least shaved before she went out.Then, a notification caught his eye.

Specifically a DM. He didn't get much of those in general but after the situation with Starlight died had died down his number of daily messages got cut down to almost nothing.

He squinted at the username “marinebio_enthusiast”. He was ignore it when he noticed something unusual—it wasn’t hate mail. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the message.

“Hi! My name is [Y/N], and I’m a marine biology student at Sandalwood University. I’ve been really passionate about ocean conservation lately, and I thought it would be amazing to get your perspective on a few issues. Also, I know this might sound a little weird, but I’m a big fan of yours! I think it’s great that you care so much about the ocean and its wildlife. If you’re interested, I’d love to buy you a coffee and chat about it! I also sent an email just in case this doesn’t reach you. I really appreciate your time! :)”

The Deep reread the message twice, his eyebrows lifting. A fan? Someone who actually wanted to talk to him?(bros too lonely to care about stranger danger)

A warmth spread through his chest. It wasn’t just the praise that made him feel good—it was the way you’d worded it, like he was someone important. Like his opinion mattered. He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to jump out and tell him it was a joke.

He typed back before he could second-guess himself.

“Hey [Y/N], thanks for reaching out!!!!! I’d love to help out and chat about marine life🪼🐠🦈. Coffee sounds great 👍👍👍. How about tomorrow at noon?”

He hesitated, then hit send. Instantly, his phone buzzed with your response.

“Wow i really didn't expect a response so soon. Thank you soooo much for this opportunity!

Noon is good for me i’ll meet you at [insert some random coffee shop name idgaf]. I'll see you then!”

The Deep couldn’t help but grin, the night spent planning possible outfits and stalking your profile.

The Deep watched the door intently, his foot tapping nervously. He would never admit it, but he’d actually gotten there twenty minutes early. He’d opted for something casual—jeans, a button-up, and a beanie to hide his identity a bit. When you finally walked in, he couldn’t help but straighten up, almost knocking his coffee off the table in the process.

He raised a hand, and when your eyes met his, you smiled so brightly he felt a bit self-conscious. You made your way over, and he stood up, almost tripping over his own feet to shake your hand.

“Wow, it’s really you,” you breathed out, eyes wide. “Thanks for meeting me!”

He cleared his throat, trying to sound confident. “Yeah, of course. I mean, I’m always happy to, uh, help with marine stuff. You know, it’s kind of my thing.”

You giggled, and his chest puffed up a little. “Yeah, I figured. I saw your speech on marine preservation from a few years ago. It’s what got me into marine biology in the first place.”

The two of you sat down, and you immediately started talking about the project you were working on—something about coral bleaching and how to promote rehabilitation efforts. The conversation flowed easily —mostly you talking about your project while he nodded along, occasionally throwing in random facts he’d Googled last night. He even made a joke about dolphins being the “mean girls” of the sea, and when you actually laughed, he felt like he’d just won the lottery.

“You know,” you said after a while, stirring your latte, “it’s really admirable how much you care about marine life. I think people forget that sometimes.”

He blinked, surprised. “Yeah, they do,” he admitted, a little softer than intended. “Most people just see me as… the fish guy.”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, I think it’s great. And I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well… it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

You nodded, eyes softening. “People can be pretty harsh. But you’re doing your best. That’s what counts.”

The Deep wasn’t used to this—being treated like a person.

You glanced at your phone,checking the time. “Hey, would you mind coming with me to check out a spot? I’d love to show you what I’m talking about.”

He blinked, surprised. “Uh, sure! Yeah, let’s do it.”

He followed you out to the parking lot, still a little confused. You opened your car door and gestured for him to hop in.

“I promise it’s not far,” you said. “It’ll make way more sense if you see it in person.”

He hesitated, trying to rationalize the situation. You seemed nice enough. Plus, you’d picked a spot by the ocean, so if this turned out to be some trick, he’d have the advantage. With a shrug, he got into your car.

The drive wasn’t long, and when you pulled up, he realized you’d taken him to a little cliffside overlooking the ocean.

“Wow,” he murmured, stepping out. The ocean stretched out below, waves crashing against the rocks. He couldn’t help but feel calmer just being near the water.

“Cool, right?” you asked, leaning against the car. “This is where I do most of my research. I thought it’d be the perfect place to explain my idea.”

He glanced back at you, surprised to find you tugging your shirt over your head. His brain stalled, and he nearly choked on his own breath.

“W-what are you doing?” he stammered, eyes widening.

You shot him a playful grin,stripping the rest of your clothes so you were now just in your boxers. “I’m going in. You’re welcome to join me.”

Before he could process it, you ran to the edge of the cliff and dove gracefully into the water below. His heart leapt into his throat.

“Oh, shit—” He bolted to the edge, peering over. You’d vanished beneath the waves. Panic set in, and he didn’t think, he just dove in after you.

The water rushed around him, cool and familiar, but when he surfaced, you were nowhere to be seen. His heart pounded.

“Hey!” he called, splashing around. “Where’d you go?”

His mind raced, imagining the headlines. He couldn’t handle another scandal. But before he could dive down again, something grabbed his leg.

[reginalusus]

Ah yes. When the protective dad-figure beats up the son-figure's past tormentor only for said tormentor to make a point(?), because the tormentor is the catalyst of Gotham's chaos, and seeing two pieces of the debris from said chaos come together to try and be less broken is amusing. The butt of Gotham's joke, if you will.

I just felt like illustrating a scene from a possible future Harvey-Jason-centered fic...

[slashisms]

𝓦𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔𝓢 𝓐𝓛𝓛;

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧＳ: Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

ＲＡＴＩＮＧ: E

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ: MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+. dub-con, but not really, spanking, name-calling, overstimulation, (un)protected sex, anal, etc.

ＷＯＲＤ ＣＯＵＮＴ: 6k

ＳＵＭＭＡＲＹ: Billy and Stu have a disagreement regarding your sex life.

Ａ/Ｎ: special thanks to @blackterrae who sent me a lovely ask that pretty much motivated this fic.

Your relationship with Tatum and Sidney was cordial, for all its ambiguity. You challenge anyone to think of a fitting adjective for the person who unknowingly stole your boyfriend, but saved your life in the process because said boyfriend was planning to kill you gruesomely. None of the questions raised by Billy and Stu’s seemingly random decision to dump both their girlfriends one day mattered once the bodies started dropping.

You were supposed to be their first victim, a red herring before Casey Becker’s murder, but after a failed attempt neither of them will cop to– they decided to pursue you instead. The timeline had been notably suspicious and eventually led to your discovery of their ‘extracurricular’ activity.

With the amount of convincing it took to get them to direct their murderous intentions towards Billy’s adulterous father and stage the whole thing as a murder-suicide with Neil Prescott as the culprit, you figure that sort of makes up for your part in the breakup. When Sidney and Tatum got together some time later, you were hoping for an opportunity to move past any lingering awkwardness.

Mentioning it to Billy and Stu was probably a mistake. They could care less about maintaining boundaries with an ex and considering how Stu’s last relationship ended, they probably thought they were doing the girls a favor by giving them a chance to befriend you. It would move them to the bottom of Billy and Stu’s list of potential victims, at least for a while.

A few weeks after you bring it up, they suggest you go to Sidney’s place to hang out. Perhaps you had been a little naive in thinking the two of them would agree to spend time with their exes’ new girlfriend without any hidden motives. Taking one girl’s boyfriend is bad, but taking two is downright sleazy. You should have been more wary of payback, especially since they knew exactly what pushed your boyfriends’ buttons.

Honestly, it would have been less exhausting if they hazed you to hash things out.

It starts after the end of the gore fest Billy forced everyone to watch. You’re too wrapped up in their flirting to notice the way Sidney and Tatum glance at you before sharing a long look. Tatum yawns dramatically, reaching for the remote to pause the credits with a bored expression. “I think that’s enough sex and stabbing,” she says, rising from the couch and wandering to the kitchen. “Let’s do something fun!”

Sidney rolls her eyes as you try to get Billy and Stu to take their hands off of you long enough to pay attention to the blonde. The two finally settle down when you pinch them in the side, fixing them with a look that has them heeling like two trained dogs. She’s reluctantly impressed by your handling and becoming more convinced that you’ll be fine after they’re done stirring the pot. Tatum returns with a bottle of liquor, swinging it triumphantly as Sidney shakes her head in feigned disapproval. “It’s not a party without vodka!” 

Before you can ask her what she means, the doorbell rings. Sidney gets up to answer it while Tatum silences your protests, tugging you out of Billy and Stu’s arms as voices begin echoing from the entrance way. Stu laughs and Billy smirks at the look of betrayal you give them as she pulls you towards the stairs. Your eyes widen at the crowd of people suddenly swarming the front door, catching a glimpse of Sidney speaking with a nervous looking Randy before handing him a twenty dollar bill.

The next thirty minutes is spent fending off Tatum’s attempts to ply you with vodka and put you in increasingly revealing outfits as she applies mascara and lip-gloss to you while lamenting not having any foundation in your shade. 

You compromise on two shots and a tastefully revealing pleated skirt and crop top before she leaves you to arrange your hair to your liking. Billy and Stu are standing outside like two pathetic puppies when she opens the door and Tatum rolls her eyes. You were wasted on these idiots, she thinks before seeking out her girlfriend. 

Stu wraps his arms around your waist while Billy approaches you, tilting your chin as you pout up at him. “Way to give me a heads up,” you gripe. 

Billy tuts softly, moving your head back and forth as he peers at you. “And give you a chance to run? No way,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your glossy lips. 

“Don’t worry, babe, we won’t leave your side,” Stu promises

Unbeknownst to you, Tatum and Sidney were counting on it. 

They hover by your side like two gargoyles for the duration of the party, guarding your drink as you become progressively tipsier. By your third (and last) drink, you’re ripe for the picking when someone exclaims, “Let’s play truth of dare!” 

You tug your reluctant boyfriends along, sitting on the couch with one of them on either side of you. The game is fairly innocuous for the first round, prepubescent memories or equally embarrassing dares before it delves into raunchier topics. Billy and Stu quickly become bored of torturing their classmates, a direct contrast to the lovey dovey way they treat you that Randy points out with accusatory gagging motions. 

“I’ve got a truth for you Randy,” Billy says, a smug grin on his face. “Are you a nerd because you’re a virgin or a virgin because you’re a nerd?” 

Stu snickers into your neck, kissing your skin in a pointedly mocking manner as you fight down the blush rushing to your face. Randy would usually slink away from this confrontation with his tail between his legs or backtrack with his belly up, but he stands his ground with an uncharacteristic confidence. “I’ve got one too, not for you kind sir, but for our Juliet here,” he says, setting you on edge. “Is there a ranking system to your Romeos or are you left twice as disappointed?” 

When you consider Randy’s part in provoking Billy later, you really think he should have asked for more than twenty dollars to take the beating the two of them dole out. You try to stop him when he rises from the couch, but he shakes you off easily as Stu’s playful grin falls and he follows suit, stalking towards Randy. You sigh when Billy grips Randy’s collar and delivers two blows to his face with the back of his hand without a word, pushing him into Stu’s waiting arms. The party goes wild as the two heft him over their shoulders, tossing him into a rowdy crowd surf that ends with him crashing onto the coffee table. 

Yet as the two slink back to your side, the seed has already been planted. You’re guiltily holding back laughter while they size the other up, oblivious to the signals that you should address the issue and drunk enough to believe that kicking Randy’s ass has resolved everything. You miss the silent communication that seals your fate: an annoyed quirk of Billy’s brow, an obnoxious grin from Stu and a glance at you and the exit. “C’mon, let’s ditch this snooze fest,” Stu insists, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Your protests are quelled by the look Billy gives you, though it doesn’t take long for you to realize something’s up as they silently escort you back to the car. Billy gets in the back with you, barely closing the door before he’s pushing you back onto the leather seat. Stu starts the car while Billy climbs on top of you, hands roaming over your body to grope at your curves. His voice is deceptively calm when he speaks. “Hey, babe,” he says, pressing a biting kiss to your neck. “What did you think about that loser’s question?” 

You blink, brain crashing to a halt as Billy makes room for himself between your thighs. The two were definitely different, but they were plenty skilled at satisfying you that it never occurred to you to compare the two. From the way Billy stares at you, brown eyes glinting dangerously, he’s expecting an answer. “Uh, I think he was pretty stupid to ask something like that without wearing a cup,” you reply, trying to diffuse the thick tension in the air.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side as his hand moves to the edge of your skirt, slipping under it as he hums softly. “Well it’s started a debate that only you can solve,” he says. “Stuart here thinks he screws you better than I do.” 

Your breath catches as he pinches the lace band of your panties, snapping it against your skin. His words ignite a fire in your gut kindled by the thumb he’s swiping back and forth over your pulsing core. He presses a kiss to your mouth before biting meanly on your earlobe. “He thinks he fucks this pussy better than I do,” he whispers in your ear, using two fingers to caress your slippery vulva. 

You let out a weak cry when he parts your lips, rubbing tiny circles over your clit as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “I don’t think words are gonna get through to that type of delusion,” he says, ignoring Stu’s scoff. “So we’re gonna settle this tonight.” 

You have a moment to cope with the dread his words dredge up, the idea of being chewed up like a toy to settle a score makes you wish Randy never opened his big mouth. Billy’s fingertip grazing your entrance distracts you from your thoughts as trails his lips over your chest. “Make sure to keep track, princess,” he orders. “I’ll be taking your first.” 

Your hands grip at the seat as he continues kissing his way down your body before lifting your skirt. He pushes your knees apart, tugging off your panties and tossing them up in Stu’s direction. Billy rolls his eyes when he sees him bring the moist fabric to his face and inhale with a throaty groan. You feel the shift of tires on gravel under your head as the car swerves and Billy curses, striking the blond on the back of the head.

Despite his warning to pay attention, Billy cups both of your tits roughly in his palms and tugs on your top and bra to create an enticing image that threatens to divert Stu’s gaze from the road all over again. The drive to his place feels like it takes forever as Stu has to listen to Billy eat you out. He can picture the way the other is trailing kisses up your thighs—and bites, judging by your yelp, before lapping at your opening, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole.

He spits on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a messy slurping sound and licking at you with exaggerated noises. Stu grips the steering wheel until his knuckles ache at your whiny moans and Billy’s encouragement, his cock painfully tight in his jeans as it throbs against his zipper. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he hears Billy murmur after dragging his tongue over your slit for the nth time, groaning at your taste. “Just relax and cum for me.” 

Stu’s doing twenty-five over the speed limit and he’s ran the three last red lights, but it’s worth it when he finally pulls into his stupidly long driveway. Once the car’s in park, he whips his head around to see Billy’s hand moving under your skirt as he sinks his middle and pointer finger inside you to the knuckle. His fingers press into your quivering walls as he mouths lazily at your clit, scissoring you open.

You back arches, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your sensitive bundle as his ruthless fingers dig into your body. You thrash weakly underneath Billy as he brings you to orgasm with just his tongue and two fingers, trembling thighs wrapped around his head. Stu grinds his teeth when Billy pulls back, smirking at him triumphantly as he removes his fingers from your body and sucks them into his mouth. “That’s one for me,” he jeers.  

“Fuck off,” Stu says, climbing over the seat and launching himself at him. 

You’re too busy catching your breath to care about the ensuing scuffle, rolling over as they begin trading blows. They don’t pull any punches either, going at it like wild dogs. In the enclosed space, Stu has the advantage and he catches Billy off guard with a hand in his jeans and a biting kiss. He groans as Stu grips his erection, roughly thumbing the head as he pins him to the car door.

The brunet can only watch as Stu fumbles for the handle, nuzzling Billy’s chin with his own and grinning at the mix of fury and arousal in his brown eyes. “My turn,” he whispers, opening the door and shoving him out before locking the car.

“Uh, was that such a good idea?” You ask, glancing at Billy, who’s banging on the window and cursing profusely. 

Stu turns to you, grin stretching across his face. “Focus on me, babe,” he orders. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, that shit looked weak.” 

Before you can raise any concerns, Stu’s tongue is in your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood. He grips both of your knees and pulls them apart, gazing down at you like he couldn’t care less that you were ruining his seats. One of his hands reaches out to glide through the mess on your thighs, coating his fingers before pushing two inside you. “As if he’s better at making you cum,” he grumbles, hooking his fingers and scraping them along your walls. “Look at how your pussy is sucking me in, she clearly likes me best.” 

You shudder, annoyed at how he manages to make his petulant whining sexy and Stu leans forward, smashing his lips to yours. “I’m gonna show you and him,” he growls. “Who owns this fucking pussy.” 

You gasp into his mouth as he fucks his fingers deeper into your body, smirking when you tighten around him. He leers at your bouncing chest, biting harshly at your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You dimly hear the sound of the car unlocking as he moves on to the other nipple, but Stu just snickers. 

Luckily, Billy seems to have cooled off by the time he climbs in the front seat, opting to observe the way you fall apart under Stu. The man in question turns to him, pushing a third finger past your entrance with a satisfied grunt. He pounds into you with relentless force, licking his lips as he taunts, “I don’t even need to touch her clit to get her like this.” 

Stu uses his other hand to pin your flailing body down, smirking at the sob you let out when he does graze your clit. “Watch closely and take notes,” he says, the words nearly drowned out by your moans. 

If you didn’t look so debauched, there would definitely be another fight breaking out, but Billy just rolls his eyes, taking in your blissed out expression with an obsessive gleam in his eye. The spirit of competition was at its peak and you were in for a long night.

Convincing them not to completely wreck Stu’s car takes long enough that you’re able to regain some semblance of control. Not enough to stop Stu from tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you inside, but at least he takes you to his bedroom instead of the nearest flat surface in his house. There’s a temporary truce as your boyfriends strip away every article of clothing, leaving you and them bare.

Before they can start arguing about who’s next, you insist they cooperate before you dry up at their incessant bickering so they stick to alternating. Billy hovers over you, thick cock bobbing between his legs as the flushed tip leaks precum while Stu hovers in the back, stroking himself to relieve his tension. “He thinks he’s doing you a favor by ignoring your sweet spot, baby girl,” Billy sighs, giving you an apologetic kiss on your forehead. “Let me show him what that cute little clit’s for.” 

Billy slides down your body, grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he moves forward. His hands cup your thighs and your cunt throbs under his stare, legs quaking when his thumbs spread your folds, revealing your glistening bud. His tongue darts out, flicking over it with pointed swipes as you bite your lip to suppress a wanton moan.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you to your peak, the simmering fire in your gut from your two orgasms easily paving the way to a third as he slurps at your clit before nudging at your opening. You let out a moan when he pushes past your entrance, groaning at the way you tighten around his tongue. His fingers come to play sloppily with your clit, the sound echoing in the room as he scoops you open. He hums in approval when you scream his name, pinching your clit between his fingers to make you scream louder.

Billy grinds against the edge of the bed as he gulps down your slick, sealing his lips over your cunt as he inches his tongue deeper. Stu curses as you toss your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull as Billy stops pinching your clit to strike it with a loud ‘smack!’ You whine as he pulls his hand back, landing a wet slap directly to the over sensitive bud. He pulls you further into his face and buries his nose in your mound, watching your tits bounce as you rut your hips against him.

He loves watching you chase your pleasure, forgetting to be self-conscious about how you look the closer you get. Your orgasm catches you off guard, the coil in your gut snapping after Billy delivers three stinging swats to your pussy, heat bursting between your legs as you weep. “Fuck!” You shout, convulsing as you gush into Billy’s mouth. 

Billy moans, slurping your cum into his mouth with his tongue as the rest drips down his face and onto the sheets. He reluctantly pulls away after a few more kisses to your throbbing clit and Stu approaches, staring down at your twitching body with a possessive gaze. Your heart pounds when they switch places, Stu prowling over you as his eyes dart over your face, breasts, and cunt. His fingers swipe over your puffy labia, hooking one inside to feel your walls ripple with the aftershocks.

Normally they would have been fucking you silly at this point, but Stu is determined to eat you out better than Billy, ignoring the painfully hard erection jutting against his belly. Though he can’t resist grabbing your ankles and pushing them towards your ears, lining his body up with yours to nudge his cock against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, tongue lolling out. “I’m gonna fucking destroy this pussy.” 

You groan at his words, staring at him with bleary eyes as he pulls back, sliding his hands down to cup the meat of your thighs. He holds you in place as he bends down to press his lips to your vulva, kissing it the same way he does your mouth, forcefully and with too much tongue. It feels like you’re being roasted alive as your ankles tremble by your face, your nerves overloaded as he pays almost punishing attention to your clit. 

After your third orgasm, the stimulation is almost too much. “Please, no more,” you plead. “Just fuck me already.” 

Billy curses behind you, the sound of you begging for their cocks has always been a weakness of theirs. Stu clicks his tongue, squeezing your thighs until you whimper softly. “Just be quiet and cum,” he orders, nibbling at the engorged bud. 

You have no choice but to obey, Stu’s iron grip on your thighs preventing you from moving an inch as he makes out with your clit, curling his lips around it and sucking as his thick tongue swats back and forth, making you squeal. One of your thighs falls onto his shoulder as he slides a hand to your entrance, poking and prodding before pushing three fingers in at once, smirking at the undignified howl you let out as he forces your body open.

He spreads his fingers, moaning at the feeling of your body giving way to his hand. You take in a shuddering breath as another orgasm builds, your clit pulsing against his tongue as he forces it out of you. Maybe that’s why it feels different and your brow furrows as you struggle to gather your wits to warn Stu. “W-wait, it-it feels like—”

You gasp as a hand covers your mouth, gaze flickering to where Billy is hovering over you, preventing any further arguments. You’re less than an active participant at the moment, they just want you to lay there and let them make you feel good. Your eyes squeeze shut as your climax crashes into you like an electric shock, leaving you jerking and squirming in Stu’s grip. 

“Oh fuck, dude, she just squirted,” Stu says with a shit-eating grin, pulling away with your cum dripping down his chin. “Shouldn’t that count for two?”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, you scared you can’t make her do it?”

You’re. Fucked. 

Stu cackles, swiping his tongue over the remnants of your cum on his face as Billy pushes him out of the way. “You’re gonna have to replace this shitty mattress,” he threatens as they swap spots.

Billy cups your cheek, glaring down at you like it's your fault they’ve reduced you to an overstimulated wreck. His other hand jerks himself off slowly, eyes moving from your face to your trembling body. “Look at you, cumming so easily after begging to stop,” he sneers. “I’m gonna pound this desperate little cunt until you’re begging for my cock.”

Despite his vicious words, he kisses you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth until you taste yourself. He kisses down your neck and both of you groan when he braces his arms on either side of you, sliding his cock through your folds with slow rocking motions. “Motherfucker thinks I can’t make this pussy squirt,” he hisses, gripping his cock and pushing the bulbous tip inside you. “Just wait, you’re gonna be gushing around my cock.” 

You’re speared open as Billy sheathes himself inside of you in a single motion, pushing past any resistance with a groan. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock, slipping in easily after Stu’s fucked you open. His fists grip the sheets as he pulls out, slamming back in with a grunt.

His pace is savage as his hips slap against yours, carving a space in your body as he kisses you to smother your screams. Your back arches and your hands slap at his chest, scratching your nails down his skin when he grinds against that spongy knot of your cervix. Billy’s hand comes up to your nape and tilts your head, tapping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his piercing gaze. “Look. Look at this greedy fucking cunt,” he orders, until you’re both staring at where his cock is disappearing inside you. “She’s gripping me so fucking hard, this tight little pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

His hips never falter as he pummels into your body, his thrusts rocking the mattress until it’s creaking obnoxiously in concord with the ‘shlickshlickshlick’ of his cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. It’s impossible to gather a coherent thought as you watch and listen to the symphony of your bodies, but you vaguely hear yourself telling him you love it, begging him to go harder, deeper, to cum inside you so you can feel it.

You’ll say anything as long as he keeps delivering blazing jolts of ecstasy to your cunt, rendering any chance you’ve got at higher order thinking futile. Billy laughs at the glassy, dazed expression on your face as you fall apart underneath him. “Fucking cock drunk already, huh?” He laughs. “I’ll give you every goddamn inch since you want it so bad.”

He nuzzles closer to you to stare into your eyes, pulling your legs around his waist and bringing you in to meet his hips. You shake your head when he brings his thumb to your swollen clit, moaning at the way you milk his cock when he applies the slightest pressure. He squeezes your lips into a pout, shaking you like a rag doll when your eyes start to shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, you fucking slut,” he hisses. “You’re gonna remember who’s making you cum like this.”

You can’t even remember your own name, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as drool slides down your chin and tears pool in your eyes. They spill over onto your cheeks, dark tracks of mascara falling onto the sheets as Billy pinches and strokes your clit. “Aw, you’re such a crybaby,” he teases. “Beg me and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, please stop,” you comply immediately. “I can’t–can’t take anymore, it hurts.”

“Good girl, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Billy coos with feigned sympathy before drawing in and out of you until it feels like you, or the bed frame. is going to break. You gasp, staring at him with wide eyes when he pulls out to the tip, tapping it against your clit before angling his cock back at your entrance. “Billy, you promised!” You whimper, glaring at him with tear stained lashes.

“I lied,” he says before slamming back in, listening to you cry out. 

He fucks you hard and fast, ignoring your hiccuping pleas as his fingertips glide over your clit mercilessly. Billy grunts with every roll of his hips, covering your mouth as he plants his feet in the mattress and jackhammers against your g-spot, sparks shooting up your spine until your pussy undulates deliciously against every curve of his cock.

Billy curses when your teeth sink into his palm as you finally cum, eyes rolling back into your skull. His hips keep moving even as you clench around him, jaw aching as he fucks you through your orgasm. “C’mon, give it to me,” he growls, brutalizing your walls. “Soak my fucking cock, nasty girl.”

Your fifth orgasm is an out of body experience, your throat scraped raw as you yell against his palm, lower body exploding in a rush of slickness. “That’s it, baby,” he moans, balls tightening as he ruts his cock into your cervix before spilling inside you. 

You shudder at the warmth of his cum, moaning into the kiss he gives you as you come down. Billy slips out of you, reluctantly allowing an impatient Stu to take your place. You blink at the sensation of his shadow falling over you, vision blurry with tears as you look up at his dark expression. “Shit, babe,” he breathes softly, pupils blown as he caresses your overwrought form. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You would laugh at the idea of being sexy while laying there like a wet noodle if you could manage to gather any air in your lungs. Stu leans forward, nuzzling your chest before swiping his tongue over your nipple. He grabs your trembling thighs and pulls your limp body into his lap, tongue moving over your chest and collarbone, groaning at the taste of your sweat. He cups your face with both of his hands, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he grinds against your pussy.

Stu shivers at the feeling of cum dripping onto his cock, the wet glide of your bodies finally providing some relief to the ache in his balls. Watching Billy fucking you without joining in was torture and his patience is wearing thin. He gives you a moment to catch your breath then slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you slightly in the air before dropping you straight onto his cock. 

He laughs at the squeal you let out as your head knocks against his shoulder and your body curls into his chest, practically strangling his cock. He grips the globes of your ass, yanking you off and slamming you back down. Stu fucks into you like a rabid animal, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he bites and sucks at your neck.

He grins as you sob into his shoulder, impaling you on his cock with a loud squelching noise before jerking your hips up and down to meet his, shivering at the sensation of thrusting into your cum-filled hole. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?” He taunts. “Then take it, take it–take it all, you fucking bitch.”

He bounces you in his lap like a flesh-light, grinning at Billy as he spreads your cheeks wide enough to reveal your puckered asshole. The brunette’s gaze is drawn to the winking flesh as Stu inches one of his slender fingers towards it, pulling a nervous whine from you. “We should fuck you here too,” he purrs. “A whore like you isn’t satisfied until all your holes are filled.”

You moan softly and Stu smirks, smacking your ass and watching the flesh jiggle reverently. You let out an anguished cry of pleasure when he swipes his hands through the mess of cum dripping from your cunt to slick up a finger and slips it past the tight ring of muscle, curving his finger into your ass. You nearly bite down on your tongue when he sinks in a second finger, scissoring them using Billy’s cum as lube.

Stu groans as your entire body locks up, squeezing around him in a vice-like grip as you’re pushed to the edge from being penetrated at the same time. He hitches your hips into his, grinding deep into your gummy g-spot. You’d never thought you’d despair at the thought of your clit being touched but when he lets go of your hip to paw at the nub furiously, you think you start crying again. 

“Billy was right. You are a crybaby,” Stu coos, swiping his tongue over your salty tears. “Too bad it only makes me wanna see you cry harder.” 

You have to hold onto his shoulders or risk toppling over as he pounds into you, his thighs quaking as he propels his hips into yours. Your entire body is starting to feel like an exposed nerve, overloaded with a depth of sensory information that you can only process by crying out lewdly and drooling onto Stu’s skin. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes,” Stu hisses, informing you of your orgasm before you even realize it’s approaching. “Such a selfish pussy, cumming all by yourself. I guess we’ll see if you break the record tonight.”

You claw at his shoulders, back bowed and cunt pulsing around his cock as you quiver in his lap, drenching his waist as stars erupt behind your eyelids. You barely register the sound of Stu and Billy’s voices, an imploring murmur from Stu and a warning hiss from Billy is your only warning before you feel Billy’s length poking at your asshole.

You let out a weak protest that Stu hushes. “Billy wants to feel how tight you are, sweetheart, just let him put the tip in,” he croons softly, slipping his fingers out so Billy can slide the mushroom head of his cock into your body. 

“Fuck,” Billy sighs, tossing his head back at the heat enveloping him. “I love this slutty body, it’s still so tight even when we fuck you stupid.”

He pauses, a bruising grip on your hip and jaw clenched as Stu rocks your body back onto his. He gasps as you slowly sink onto him, moaning with every jerk of Stu’s length against the thin barrier of flesh separating them in your body. He swears, brows furrowing as you choke back a pitiful wail when another orgasm follows immediately, torn out of you almost involuntarily from their ruthless treatment. “Shit, she’s coming again,” Stu chuckles, pinching your clit as you whine. “I guess we’ll share credit for this one, but I’m still in the lead.” 

Billy kisses his teeth, pushing you further down as his breath catches at the friction of their cocks fucking in and out of you. He kisses your nape before biting at your shoulder. “How many times is that, princess?” He questions, gripping your chin and turning your face towards him. 

They both moan at the spaced out expression you’re wearing and Billy shakes your head to get your attention, waiting for your teary eyes to slide over to his face. “How many times did this filthy pussy cum, huh?” He repeats. “I told you to keep track, didn’t I, princess?”

You shake your head, burying your face in Billy’s palm, mumbling, “Don’t know, can’t remember, please, I can’t take anymore.”  

Billy slaps your ass until his palm stings, cursing when you seize around him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing,” he snaps, relishing in your pained mewl. “Dumb whore can’t even count when we’re fucking her.” 

Oh no. You’re starting to feel like a minor villain about to be conquered through the power of friendship, the preclude to your defeat stemming from the epiphany of two rivals that cooperation will yield better results.

Torturing others was a pastime that brought Stu and Billy together and you were no exception. If your tongue wasn’t heavy as lead in your mouth, you’d try to say something to dissuade them from doing so at any cost, but you can only hold pathetically onto Stu and hope for the best. 

“The fuck does a virgin like Randy know?” Billy growls, gripping your waist and lifting you off of their cocks before slamming you back down. “You love fucking both of us, don’t you? You cum harder when we paint your insides together.” 

Okay, maybe this was an opportunity for a quick resolution. You nod emphatically, eeking out breathless ‘uh huh’s and ‘mhmm’s that seem to satisfy Billy. You can only hope they’ll forget the competition and fuck you to completion together because you couldn’t take much more.

Stu’s breath trembles and his thighs tense as he covers Billy’s hands on your hips and shoves his cock into the hilt, sliding the hand on your clit to your stomach. “Fuck, you feel that, baby?” He moans. “I’m gonna cum here, right in this thirsty womb.”

You take a moment to be grateful for birth control as Stu buries himself in your cunt, pulsing one last time before shooting inside, moaning as Billy’s cock grinds into his from behind. You’re almost convinced that you succeeded in distracting them when they both slip out of you with a groan and Stu maneuvers you gently into Billy’s chest before getting off of the mattress.

Billy shifts your bodies off the undeniably soaked sheets to a dry spot and tangles your legs together. Stu grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and your eyes open when you hear the twist of the cap. He holds the bottle to your lips until you gulp down half of it before setting it on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen as he pulls out a condom, glancing at Billy who takes it from him with a Cheshire grin. You watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth before sliding the condom over his throbbing cock, gripping it at the base. “We still have to settle this fair and square,” he says at your doe eyed gaze, lining himself up with your swollen pussy. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t lend each other a hand. Every magician needs an assistant, right babe?” 

Okay, so you’ve been sufficiently fucked over by two scheming lesbians, but it’s nothing less than what you deserve.

[akkivee]

they've been potentially changing a lot with the shadow manga, but since maria's final words to shadow were how she loves him and amy's conversation with shadow in the joypolis collab was about how he is loved, i like to think sonic team is still hinting at amy's ability to touch his heart lol

[captainkirkk]

Iruma's wife beam is too strong, he's going to have the entire demon realm under his spell before he graduates high school

[whump-in-the-closet]

just. A thought.

characters stepping forward to take a blow for the loved one

- the quick dart to intercept Whumper’s hand as they try to backhand Whumpee. “mmmff—” a crack.

- “what are you doing?” Blood dripping to the floor, falling to one knee

- that dark glint in their eyes that either says “don’t fucking touch them” or “no one hurts them except me”

- catching Whumper’s hand as it falls and twisting with a white knuckled grip. Think twice.

- a grunt of pain, a gasp of real fear that’s swallowed down before anyone can hear it

- turning to check on whumpee after they’ve been hurt. “Are you okay?” And whumpee only stares, their eyes wide.

- “stop.” / “no”. Guards yanking them away so Whumper can get to who they want to punish.

- whumper turning on the character who dared to stand up to them, whumpee completely forgotten. Through the blinding pain, all they can think is I can take it. They can’t.

[purpurussy]

if any one of us were locked in a cage with Phil and someone had a gun to Dan's head and told him "you have to beat this 5'6 phannie in a fight or he dies" and Phil went full crazed chimpanzee mode NOT A SINGLE ONE OF US would be walking out of that cage let's be so serious

[lvmimis]

lmao being in the x reader tags and seeing comments like ‘where are fics about so and so’ or ‘these fics aren’t gonna write themselves’ like why would anyone write simply to be consumed disrespectfully like this

[synthshenanigans]

dude i think my UCN is broken, I don't remember this update

[your-unfriendlyghost]

this is such an open request BUT you should do anything to do w steviepop we need more of them

Finally I’m writing Ponyboy discovering Steviepop lol. It’s been discussed before on here, by myself and plenty of others, but I don’t think anyone’s written a full thing for it yet, so here we are lol!

Will cross post to Ao3 soon as this is up lol

-

 Ponyboy freezes at the porch, hand hovering over the doorknob.

  Through the window, Soda’s on the couch kissing a girl. 

  That wouldn’t be so strange on its own- sure, Soda usually has the tact to keep all the girl-kissing to his bedroom, but it’s not unheard of- except for one detail.

  He’s kissing Evie.

  Steve Randle’s girl.

  Soda’s best friend’s girl.

  “Holy shit,” Curly Shepard whispers, eyes wide as dinner plates.

  Pony blinks, making sure he’s seein’ this right.

  Evie’s on top of Soda, and Pony can’t think of anyone else who has long curly chestnut-colored hair like that, so he knows it’s gotta be Evie. Beyond that, her arm, which is wrapped around Soda’s neck, is covered in freckles. No other brown-skinned girl Pony’s met has freckles like Evie.

  “No way he’s kissin’ Randle’s gal!” Curly exclaims, nudging Ponyboy as if he has somehow missed it. “What’d Randle do to piss him off, ya think?”

  “She’s probably forcin’ him?!” Ponyboy tries to rationalize.

  “Oh he sure don’t look forced!” 

  Sure enough, Soda’s kissing back just as hard. His hands are on Evie’s waist under her blouse, and he’s got a look on his face that Ponyboy’s never wanted to see on his brother.

  “But- but Steve…” Pony stutters.

  How could Soda do this?! How could he sit there necking his best buddy’s girl?!

  “They must’ve broken up, right?!” Ponyboy offers, running a sweaty hand through his hair.

  “No way…I saw her with Randle just earlier today, holdin’ hands at the DX,” Curly insists.

  Pony swallows. “Shit…oh shit.”

-

  Ponyboy swings the door of the DX store open, bells jingling. 

  “What’re you doin’ here?” Steve asks, his dark eyes narrowed. He’s chewing bubblegum, and leaning on the counter by the register. “Soda ain’t ‘round, and babies don’t get no discount.”

  Ponyboy bites back a scowl. Maybe Steve deserves to have his girl two-time him with Soda, he thinks for a second.

  “I know,” Ponyboy says, lowering his voice. “I ain’t lookin’ for Soda. I’m lookin’ for you.”

  Steve wrinkles his nose. “...Why?” 

  Ponyboy looks around, confirming that the place is empty of listening eyes. “D’ya have a break comin’ up? It’s…sorta serious,” he murmurs.

  Steve frowns, eyebrows raising. “Serious?” he repeats, voice losing its hard edge. “Are you in trouble?” he says, eyes flicking to the door. Quieter, he says “You ain’t in another…murder wrap, are ya?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s about…” Ponyboy swallows, stomach turning. How can he betray Soda like this, Soda who he loves, Soda who gets him in a way no one else does?! 

  But he’s gotta. It isn’t fair to Steve.

  Ponyboy sighs. “...It’s about uh…Soda.”

  Bemused, Steve wrings his hands. “Shoot, Pony, I ain’t got a break comin’ up, just closin’ time in half an hour. What’s up with Soda?”

  Ponyboy tries to answer, but his mouth is dry. 

  “He ain’t in…trouble, is he? Is he okay?” Steve says, brows drawing together. The waver in his voice does a lousy job of hiding his concern. God, it kills Ponyboy, hearing Steve so worried about Soda, about his best friend- and Ponyboy’s never much liked the guy, but Steve clearly cares so much about Soda. He wonders for the thousandth time today how the hell Soda could do this to Steve?

  Soda, who held Steve at night when his old man kicked him out- Ponyboy wasn’t supposed to see that, but he’d needed water, and he’d seen the two of them on the couch, Steve’s head on Soda’s chest, curled up close and crying. Soda had been whispering things that Ponyboy couldn’t make out and stroking Steve’s hair, trying to sooth him. When he’d caught sight of Pony, he’d tilted his head back at the hall authoritatively, and Pony had ran back  to his room as fast as he could…

  God, Pony can’t imagine that. How can you care about someone enough to hold him, hug him, cry with him and care for him, but also fall for his girl?!

  “Yeah, yeah, Randle, Soda’s okay,” Ponyboy says, feeling like the worst person in the world. “Everyone is okay, physically. But there’s a problem you should know about…” he trails off. What if Steve can’t forgive Soda? What if Soda loses his best friend because of Ponyboy?!

  “Well spit it out, Racehorse,” Steve says sarcastically.

  “Look I don’t know how to say this, and I don’t really know what’s happening, and I coulda seen wrong- But Steve, yesterday I saw…I saw Soda and Evie neckin’ on the couch.” Ponyboy says, closing his eyes tight. He doesn’t wanna see the look that’ll be on Steve’s face. He can’t. 

  “Oh…yeah…” Steve says finally. And he doesn’t sound distraught, just…unsure…? Ponyboy opens his eyes to get a better look at him. 

  Steve doesn’t look surprised. His eyes are squinted like he’s trying to pick words to say, and he’s still smacking on his pink bubblegum. It’s like Ponyboy told him that the highschool isn’t doing wrestling this year or something- mildly concerning, but ultimately not connected at all to Steve personally.

  “That’s…your Evie, I mean,” Ponyboy clarifies, waiting for some reaction.

  Steve nods. “Yeah, Einstein, what other Evies do we know?” he says, without any real heat. “Uh…I ‘ppreciate your tellin’ me, ‘n all,” he says, fiddling with a pen behind the counter. “I guess that musta been hard for ya, so.”

  Ponyboy frowns. Yeah, it was, but that’s…not the takeaway he expected at all.

  “Ain’t you gonna…say somethin’?” Pony says, in a small voice.

  Steve takes a deep breath, glancing at the back office. “Uhm…yeah…somethin’. Right.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Look, kid, I uh…I kinda know…about that,” he says, speaking haltingly.

  Ponyboy blinks incredulously. Steve Randle once yelled at him for breathing too loud, and yet he’s this calm about his girlfriend cheating on him?!

  “...What?” Ponyboy says.

  Steve sucks his teeth. “Yeah…no, we have um…well. You know, Evie’s always dug your brother, and with Sandy outta the picture…uh…shoot. No, I mean…er…” he stammers, nervous in a way Pony has never seen him be before. “I ain’t tellin’ this well,” he grumbles, scrubbing a hand down his face. He sighs. “Look, Ponyboy, you can’t be tellin’ anyone ‘bout this, okay? Because it’s sorta a secret…” he trails off.

  “What is it?!”

  Steve looks at the office again, making sure the manager can’t hear him. “Okay kid, you wanna know the score?” he says, voice dropping to a whisper. He leans closer. “I’ll tell ya the score: Your brother, Evie, and me have a bit of an…arrangement…with each other,” he explains, waving his hand back and forth. “We both dig Evie, ‘n she digs us, so…”

  “You share her?!” Pony whisper-shouts.

  Steve cringes. “I mean- I guess that’s a way of puttin’ it,” he says reluctantly. “But it ain’t quite…like that…” he frowns, righting himself. “Look, I dunno what Soda wants his kid brother to know, okay? An’ frankly, I dunno how much I think you gotta know. So…ask him about it, yeah?”

  “But you’re…okay with this?!”

   “Yeah,” Steve says, eyes half-lidded. He smiles dopily. “I’m real okay with it,” he murmurs.

  Ponyboy leans back, getting mental images that he doesn’t like. He’s probably nuts, but for a second, he wonders- do Steve and Soda share…each other, too?! 

  He shoves the thought outta his head fast, because Soda can’t be a queer. Ponyboy would know if his brother was queer…wouldn’t he? And Steve can’t be either- he’s so tough,  so…so…indelicate. …Right?

  But then again…Ponyboy never thought Steve would be okay with sharing his girlfriend, either…so maybe he doesn’t know anything at all.

  He leaves the DX feeling dazed, with one thought on his mind- What the hell just happened?!

-

  “Hey Pepsi-Cola, get this- your kid brother’s onto us,” Steve says, walking into Evie’s room. He trades his work shirt for one of the sweatshirts he’s left on the floor of her closet.

  Soda and Evie both look at him, Soda looking nervous and Evie amused. “What?”

  “You heard me,” Steve says, sprawling out across their thighs so his head’s in Soda’s lap and his shoulders and torso are on Evie’s. “He stopped by today, told me he’d seen yous twos- an’ I quote,” he smirks, “Neckin’ on the couch.”

  Soda flushes, cursing under his breath. “The lil’ jerk saw that?!” he says, but his voice is drenched in that sickening affection it always is when talking about his little brother. 

  “Maybe he heard it. You’re pretty loud,” Evie says, wiggling her sharp eyebrows.  

  “Aw, shuddup,” Soda says, trying and failing to stifle a smile.

  “No, no, she’s right,” Steve grins pointedly. Soda sticks out his tongue and rests his hand on Steve’s face. 

  “But seriously,” Soda says, paleing, “Ponyboy saw us?”

  “Yeah. Poor kid was freakin’ out, too,” Steve says, shaking his head. “He felt real bad about tellin’ me, you could tell he didn’t wanna expose ya, but he said he thought I oughta know.”

  “And what’d you tell him?” Evie asks, poking his side. 

  Steve chews his lip. “Well, to tell ya the truth, I didn’t rightly know what to say. Didn’t think you wanted him to know about uh…our whole deal, an’ all, Soda.”

  “But what’d ya tell him?” Evie prods, squeezing his hand.

  Steve shrugs, or at least as much as he can lying down. “I told him that the three of us have…an arrangement, ‘cos me an’ you,” he nods at Soda, “both like you,” he says, squeezing Evie’s hand back. “The kid couldn’t get his head ‘round the fact that I’m okay with it,” he adds, chuckling. 

  “Well, to be fair, you get pretty jealous sometimes, buddy,” Soda teases, ruffling his hair.

  “Only of other folks,” Steve defends. Yeah, he’d be real jealous seein’ Soda or Evie flirting with a guy or girl who isn’t him. But when it’s with each other, it just feels…right, or something. Like things are exactly how they should be, and everything is lovely, even on the east side. “Anyhow,” Steve says, “I told him he oughta ask you about it, because I wasn’t sure how much ya wanted me to say.”

   Soda hums. “Well gee, Steve, that’s tough. I dunno how much you wanna say. ‘Cos he finds out I’m…queer, then he finds out you ain’t so solid neither.”

  Steve swallows. Glory, he knows that. He knows it well. 

  The thing is, he’s not queer, really. Not exactly. Not like those flits at the bars in New York or San Francisco. Not like those men who dressed like women. He’s not- he’s not like them. He doesn’t care about the looks of other guys, he doesn’t give a damn about abs or muscles if they ain’t his own.

  It’s just…Soda. 

  God, he just. He can’t help loving Soda. He can’t. He tried not to, Lord knows he tried not to, but he does. He loves how Soda looks, how Soda talks, how Soda can make him melt with just a smile. He loves how Soda’s grin’s a little crooked and how his dimples are deeper on one side than the other. Ever since he was a kid, all he’s ever wanted is to run away with Soda, get outta Tulsa, and drive ‘round together forever.

   But then, he’d never cared much for girls either, not until Evie. Sure, he’d torn through those Playboy magazines with Johnny and Dally, and yeah, he’d watched those Marilyn Monroe flicks with Two-Bit, but he never got how they could really get anything outta it. He figured he just wasn’t wired to jack off normal-like.

  But when Evie first touched him, it was like he’d discovered a whole new feeling. Like he’d been seeing in black and white, and she’d turned it technicolor. She’d sat on his lap in the drive-in, and suddenly he understood what Dally meant when he told him about his exploits. 

  Except it wasn’t fully new, either. He’d felt something like that for years around Soda. 

  But he didn’t dig too deep into it, because that was just…Soda. 

  It’s like Steve can only love Soda and Evie, and no other guy or gal in all the world. So he isn’t…that queer. Not really…not exactly. And so…yeah, he isn’t totally sure he wants Ponyboy to think of him like…that…

  But he doesn’t wanna pretend he doesn’t love Soda either. 

  Steve sighs. “…Just tell the kid the truth, I guess.”

  Soda smiles, very slightly. “Really?”

  “Before I change my mind, wise guy,” Steve growls, but he doesn’t really mean it. 

  He loves Sodapop Curtis and Evie Peterson, and he wants the whole world to know it. But considering the context…he’ll settle for just Ponyboy.

  -

  “Hey, Pony?” Soda says in a hushed voice as he slinks into their shared bedroom. Ponyboy’s seated at his desk, drawing doodles on his homework, and he glances up.

  “Hey, Sodapop,” he greets, trying to sound casual. Like he didn’t just find out Soda and Steve had been secretly dating the same girl, and like he didn’t think that was the weirdest thing he’d ever heard.

  “How was your day?” Soda asks hesitantly.

  “It was…okay,” Pony says, not wanting to be the one to mention the elephant in the room. “So you uh…went out tonight again, I see? How was that?”

  “Oh yeah, it was nice,” Soda nods, “Real nice. Hung out at the gal’s house, talked about uh…life and stuff. Turns out she digs horses too, only she learned English style, not Western,” Soda says, shrugging off his jacket. 

  “So ya talked about horses. How’d…Steve like that?” Pony prompts. Soda freezes for just a fraction of a second, but then he’s flopping onto the bed like nothing’s the matter.

  “He didn’t love it,” Soda says, grinning, “but just you wait, we’ll make a cowboy of him yet.”

  “You an’…Evie?” Pony says finally. 

  “…Yes,” Soda says, propping himself up on his elbow, “me an’ Evie.” He’s still smiling, but his expression has grown just a hint guarded.

  “So Steve wasn’t lyin’. Y’all do…share her,” Pony mutters.

  “No, he wasn’t,” Soda nods. “But y’know…that ain’t the full…story…” he says, voice wavering. He looks at the wall. “Ponyboy, listen, the thing about it is…” he trails off, eyes getting glossy.

  Pony hurls himself onto the bed next to his brother, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay, Sodapop, you can tell me.”

  Soda smiles feebly. “Oh Pony, I don’t mean to be such a bawl baby about it, I really don’t. I dunno what’s up with me…” he says with a half-baked chuckle. “I just don’t…I don’t want ya seein’ me different, you dig?”

  “You’re in love with Steve Randle, ain’t ya?” Pony blurts out. Soda goes stiff under his arm. But when he speaks, his voice is steady.

  “Yeah. Pony, I…I’m…I am.” He closes his eyes, and whispers “…Don’t tell Darry.”

  “Sodapop, Darry won’t be mad…he loves ya, no matter what,” Pony reassures. Even though you have terrible taste.

  “Yeah, but… He’ll worry. He worries too much now. I don’t want him to worry ’bout me, too…” Soda exhales. When he turns to meet Pony’s eyes, Pony sees that Soda’s silently crying, with tears running down his cheeks.

  Ponyboy hugs Soda, running his hands through his greasy blond hair. “It’s okay, Pepsi-Cola. It’s okay…” He pauses. “You know, Oscar Wilde was queer.”

  Soda laugh-sobs into Pony’s shoulder. “Who the hell is that?”

  “Author. Really great one. Real famous. I ain’t read his stuff, but everyone who has says it’s amazing. And he was queer.” Pony says. “So you know. It’s tuff.”

  “…Thanks, Pony,” Soda says, slowing his shuddering. He pulls away and rubs his eyes. “…Thanks.”

  “I won’t tell no one,” Pony promises. “I think you oughta tell Darry, but you ain’t gotta, and I sure won’t.”

  “So you don’t think it’s…” Soda trails off.

  “I think it’s alright, man. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya. Alls I’m wonderin’ is why you and Evie both want Steve-”

  “Aw, shut yer trap,” Soda laughs, tackling Pony onto the bed. “Stevie’s real sweet whenever you ain’t in the room, an’ if you ain’t careful with that mouth of yours, I may just have to tell ya ‘bout all the things he does to get me blushin’-”

  “GROSS!” Pony yells, all semblance of support dropped at the mental image of Steve and Soda in…that context. “Gush about that to your girlfriend, and lemme live in my blissful ignorance!”

  Soda grins, hopping up off the bed. “Y’know, Darry’s sleepin’…I think I will!”

  -

[absent-o-minded]

Shoot From The Hip Character Tropes

One of the things that I find most interesting about improv comedy is that, after watching a show or a group over a long period of time, you start seeing certain character archetypes or tropes they gravitate towards. These are all uniquely individual to the performance troupe.

Therefore, here is a little post (with examples) on some of the character archetypes and tropes (whether self-confessed by the lads or noticed by the audience) that crop up across a lot of their longforms:

Misguided parent that finally realizes the error of their ways:

Mark’s Dad: Clarissa’s DIY Wedding

Angus: The Hobnob Affair

Jemima: The Milkman

Thomas: The Enigma of the High Visionary

(In the same vein) Children with immense trauma / Children who have had to parent themselves:

Alexa and Januscz: Ballet on the Battlefield

Pinnochio: The Grape Depression

Chip/Bradley: The Cardboard Stegosaurus

Peter Steven: The Milkman

L: The Creak in the Attic

The 'outsider' character who finally gets accepted for who they truly are:

Troll Son: Wine Under The Bridge

Bill Hannigan: Death For A Dollar

James: The Unrelenting Aubergine

John Jacob McAllister: The Off-Season

Characters who 'haunt' the narrative:

Annabelle Langbrook: Priscilla's Final Petal

Jimmy the Hare: The Hare Who Wore A Sweater

Hugh’s Tree Father: Marigolds, Bluebells and Hugh

Jorgen Skelter: Burgalry and Bobsledding

Marie-Clare: The Cardboard Stegosaurus

Grandfather and Grandmother: The Creak in the Attic

Lover's reunion underpinned by tragedy:

Bill x Maria: Death For A Dollar

Egbert x Samantha: The Leftenmost Window

Tarquin x Amanda: Lost In Your Eyes

Bubba x Jeremiah: The Mysterious Cube

Characters who have brilliant minds but not-so brilliant execution:

Sherlock Holmes: The Mystery of the Midnight Circus

Clint: The Lighthouse

Jimmy: Toby's Secret Pockets

Janae: The Neighbours Under The Bed

Humans that lack humanity versus Animals who are overflowing with it:

Johnny Jones: Too Big To Be A Jockey

Mario The Sheep: The Lighthouse

Juliet: Caesar and Juliet

Mr Polar Bear: And It Begun/Began/Begeune