#like the thought of watchin a guy play a game or something but ending up fallin asleep and him just staying there bc he doesnt wanna wake m

[poems-of-a-lover]

feelin like fallin asleep in a guys lap right abt now

[weepingwillowwonder]

Horny Hazbin Hotel Thoughts/Drabbles: NSFW AHEAD [Minors DNI! 🔞] -> -> ->

This is about Alastor & Angel Dust (separately)

Summary: Things you SAY you don’t like because it makes you feel either: shy, scared, or pissed off, but actually really turns you on and how they would react (explanation at the end)

CW: Degradation, Prey/Predator kink, Humiliation Kink, Being held down, Non-Con ish Elements, Tentacles

[PART 1]

Angel Dust: Because of his line of work he is VERY careful not to push your boundaries, as you also do with him. However, sometimes things happen unintentionally…

You guys are hanging out in the hotel lounge, him draped across the sofa, you on the floor. You both are scrolling away on your phones, showing each other the occasional meme and chatting about Angel’s recent shoot.

At that moment though, you were fully distracted by something on your phone. Your cheeks warm up at the suggestive content, which Angel IMMEDIATELY notices - “What the fuck you watchin’ that’s got you blushin’ like that?” Well NOW you’ve got his attention.

You both end up playfully wrestling for the device but you end up pinned underneath him. When you realize Angel is a lot stronger than he looks, you start to struggle in his hold, hating the feeling of being pinned down. Focused on your phone, he doesn’t realize you’re starting to get upset and continues to hold you down.

Starting to panic, you feel tears prick at your eyes and again try to buck your hips to get him to move. This time, however, the movement brushes your crotch in a confusingly delicious way and a loud moan slips out of you. You don’t mean to, but your hips jump up again to chase the feeling. At that, Angel looks down at you, his previous smile slipping from his face.

“Oh shit! Shit, fuck! I’m so sorry, I forgot-” He lets go of you and starts to get up but pauses, watching you beneath him. “Wait, did you just moan…?” You blink the tears away and swallow, staying silent and turning your head away instead.

“Shit…” he whispers, lowering his hips back down against yours. “You did, didn't you?” He briefly looks up to make sure no one is around and experimentally rolls himself against you again. Involuntarily, you back arches this time and you moan again.

“Fuck, you like that..?” He mumbles, blushing at the way you whimper beneath him. You both look into each other's eyes, wordlessly panting. He gently grabs your hands again and presses them on the floor above your head. His other set of hands grip your hips, pulling you up to meet his.

He leans down, ghosting his lips against yours as he bucks his hips intently. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his lips and his eyes, biting your lip. When he leans down to kiss you, you let out an open mouth moan, legs spreading in an attempt at feeling more of him. The throbbing between your legs intensifies and you whine out his name, “Angel! Wait, you’re gonna make me-!” 

He buries his head in your neck and doubles down his efforts, practically fucking you through your clothes. “Yeah?” He pants out “Come on then..” He lets you wrap your legs around his waist and groans as you tense up under him.

He gently holds you and waits until you calm down before slowly sitting up. He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out an awkward laugh “Well fuck!” You throw an arm around your face embarrassed.

---

Alastor: In an overheard conversation, you mention you hate being chased and Alastor saves that information for later. 

During a team bonding exercise, Charlie expresses the want to play ‘capture the flag’ in the hotel. Something about building a healthy comradery…

”The rules are simple! The hotel is separated into two sections and each team’s flags are hidden in those areas. The objective is to get the other team’s flags without being caught, the team with the most flags wins!”

The teams are divided evenly, both you and Alastor on different sides. Everyone goes their separate ways and the game begins.

You find yourself alone, sneaking around in an attempt to find the flags. To your luck you do find one, quickly shoving it in your pocket and making your leave. You realize however, that one of Alastor’s shadows has been watching you the whole time. “Ah, there you are..!” 

You don’t even turn around to acknowledge Alastor’s presence, immediately racing down the hallway. All you need to do is get to your team’s section… Your heart pounds in your chest as you turn the corner. You hear a chuckle behind you, and a sing songy voice,  “Run, run as fast as you can~” 

You see the stairs, your saving grace to get back to your team. A shriek escapes your lips as you’re suddenly dragged backwards by Alastor’s tentacles and forced against the wall. He slowly approaches and takes in your appearance. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, chest heaving trying to catch your breath…

His grin widens as you struggle in his binds. “My, my, what do we have here..” The static from his radio filter crackling as he speaks. “I thought you had a distaste for being chased?” he questions, teasing you.

You’re both terrified and confused at his question, “W-what are you..?! I-I do!” You sputter out a response. His eyes narrow as he lets out a hum. 

“Hmm…then what do you suppose this is about?” His tentacles slide between your legs, pressing firmly. Your hips buck at that and you gasp. It’s incredibly embarrassing how you feel yourself making a mess in your underwear right now.

“H-how did you-” You cut off with a moan when the tentacles continually slide themselves between your thighs and press into your core. Alastor’s nostrils flare at that, taking a deep breath to lead in closely, “Darling…I can smell you a mile away. Like a bitch in heat…”

You gasp at his words and your hips start to move along with his tentacles. He stands closely but doesn't reach out to touch you, both hands holding onto his microphone. “That’s it..” he purrs, seeming pleased with you cooperating with him. Your head drops as you feel yourself get closer, panting at the sensation between your legs. Your body feels hot all over, but the cool temperature of his tentacles contrasts it greatly.

In the distance, you hear the sounds of footsteps, both of you turning in the direction it’s coming from. You whimper his name and he turns back to you, whispering, “You’d better hurry, you wouldn’t want to get caught, do you?”

His tentacles start to move faster now, quickly sliding between your legs and all you can do is take it. Your mouth opens to cry out and Alastor quickly reaches up to slide his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm suddenly comes over you, sloppily sucking on his fingers. 

He hums softly, dragging his fingers across your tongue before pulling out and wiping them on his pants. His tentacles gently set you on the ground and his smile softens. “This little game was fun..Should you want to play again, you know where to find me..” He manifests into the floor and disappears, leaving you to wonder what just happened.

---

So recently I read a predator/prey Alastor x reader fic and I was shook because being chased genuinely freaks me out, among other things. BUT because it's Alastor, it's hot. SO I thought of this series that I may or may not be projecting in...

I WILL be writing other characters for this lol

[I do NOT own Hasbin Hotel or it's characters, do NOT repost my content elsewhere please and thank you.]

[its-alittleobsessed]

Orpheus and Eurydice but it's Dean and Castiel coming out of the empty. Jesus Christ. JESUS. is there a fic like that?

Like imagine Dean, smack dab in the middle of nothing. Pitch black for miles and miles and the empty speaks to him, says, "I'll give him back on one condition."

And Dean nodding, desperate to it, "Anything."

And the empty smiles, though it doesn't have a face or body or soul, Dean can hear it smile, can feel it in the molecules around him, when it says, "Do not look back."

There's a small light at the end of nothing, so miniscule it looks like a grain of rice. The empty points it out, commands, "Go."

And Dean doesn't move. The grain of rice is so small and it is so quiet around him. "Go?"

"Yes, go."

The empty is nothing. It is nothing in nothing. A black hole sucking up another black hole—that is what the empty is. Dean’s inside it, inside the hole inside another hole, looking for a guy who shines brighter than the sun on a cloudless day. 

It’s so fucking quiet. Dean shakes his head, “I don’t—”

“You don’t trust that I’ve placed him behind you?” The empty snarls, groans, and festers, “You don’t trust that he’ll follow you?”

The first step he takes is heavy. It weighs and echoes across the great expanse of hollowness. It is not followed by another immediate step. He is the only thing breathing, the only noise rising, and he asks, because he has to know, “Cas?”

There is no reply. 

“He’s behind you.” The empty assures. There’s a tilt to its voice like it might be lying. Or maybe it’s amused. Dean can’t tell, his heart’s beating too loudly in his ears to tell the difference. 

The second, third, and fourth steps are just as earth quaking as the first. He walks—drags his feet below him, closer to the blinding light leading them home, still so far away, still the size of a mere flame. 

“It was really fucked up. What you did.” Dean says, because he can’t look, and he can’t hear, but he can still talk. “What kind of an asshole does that? What kind of a—” He swallows, keeps a steady rhythm foot after foot, “You said. What you said. Why’d you say it?”

He’d practiced this in his room a few times. What he’d say if he ever saw Cas again. At least then, the walls would hum back. They'd stare back and hold him up if he couldn’t keep his knees from buckling. But here, in this vacuum, what is there to rely on? 

“Thought I was dyin’. ” Dean confesses, the light has turned into the size of a dime, and he keeps staring it down, determined, “Watchin’ you get taken, I mean. Felt like—felt like you took my heart with you down here, y’know?” 

There aren’t any footsteps behind him. There’s no flutter of wings or exhale or exasperated sigh. He’s—he feels alone. 

“Couldn’t go on without you, man. S’why I’m here.” Why is it so fucking quiet? Dean wasn’t this quiet when Cas said his piece. He’d been frozen, maybe, but not quiet. Never quiet. “I—I need you to be there. I can’t—don’t know how I’m supposed to go on if you aren't there.”

The empty’s stopped replying, too. The rice turned into dime and now it’s the size of a baseball and it’s still so fucking. Hollow. And the empty likes to play games doesn’t it? Likes to trick poor schmucks like Dean who are desperate hopeful bastards. 

With Cas in the room, there’d be electricity around them. A spark of something. But now, Jesus, now, there isn’t—the air’s so fucking stiff and horrible. 

Dean reaches an arm back, still walking, “Gimme your hand.” 

No one touches him.

“Empty didn’t say nothin’ about skin on skin, man. C’mon.” His steps stutter and his hand shakes, “C’mon.”

The light is the size of a window. He’s getting closer—no, no, no they’re getting closer. Both of them. ‘Cause Cas is there. He’s right there. He’s—

“I just wanna know you’re okay.” He looks at the ground, tries to cheat, tries to find another set of feet with his peripheral vision. “M’not leavin’ without you, you dick. So you better—you better gimme a fuckn’ sign or I’ll stay here. Forever if I gotta.”

His voice doesn’t even bounce off the fucking walls. There are no walls. Or feet or breaths or hands touching his own. There is no answer to any of his questions. And he stretches his arm as far as it can go behind him, as far as his broken muscles can, he begs, “Please, Cas.”

The light has grown to the size of a door and it’s too quiet. Too vacant and blank. So unlike Cas at the end of everything. And Dean can’t leave—he can’t just—he came here for someone and if he’s not—if this is a trick then, then—

“Please.” 

One more step. That’s all he needs. He’s one step away, just one, but Cas isn’t answering. He isn’t answering or touching Dean’s hand and the empty lies.

It’s too quiet, the empty lies, and Dean can’t leave without him. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t and the door is right there, it’s right there but Dean can’t leave, he can’t leave ‘cause Cas isn’t behind him, he was never behind him, and he turns, oh God, Dean turns around and—

Cas smiles, that soft deep smile of his that edges on a little sad, he tilts his head, so loving and forgiving, “I love you too.”

And then he’s gone. Ripped away one more time.

[dadsbongos]

late night for a sinner

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: religious overtones cuz it’s this movie, described and enacted violence (against teagardin), preston teagardin (and all his sexual assault-y/manipulative bs) Notes: uhm people got married at like 20 in the 50s and i assume arvin is about 20 so no i will not apologize for making you his wife, my country-accent writing is bad(?) idk Summary: Arvin’s a protective man, especially when it comes to those he loves. ~~~

“Somethin’ ‘bout that preacher don’t feel right,” (Y/n) murmured to her husband as they stood outside the doors of the church, “Gives me a shiver right up my spine.”

Arvin nodded along to her words, watching as his grandmother and sister shook hands with Preston Teagardin - fancy name for a guy like him. A guy who gave women chills. He reached into his dress pants pocket and plucked out a cigarette before placing it between his lips, “Watch yourself around him, darlin’.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for Lenora, too,” (Y/n) crossed over the creaky boards of the church's stoop as people began exiting, her hands coming out for the man’s tie, “Did you loosen this durin' the sermon?”

“Too tight,” he let the woman adjust his tie, “You know how I feel ‘bout comin’ to these things.”

“I know, I know - hey, I don’t like comin’ either, but it means a lot to Ms. Emma and Lenora,” pulling back from the tie, (Y/n) placed her hands on Arvin’s shoulders, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta watch for that blasted preacher, and I think we’re the only ones who will.”

Removing the cigarette from between his lips, Arvin leaned over to kiss his wife’s forehead, pulling away to ask, “You take my light outta my pocket when you pressed my pants this morning?”

“Maybe I did,” she shrugged, grinning, “Maybe even I think you shouldn’t be smokin’ outside a church.”

“Maybe,” Arvin nodded, “Maybe.”

Emma and Lenora finally came out of the church and started towards the family’s truck, the two women got into the back with Arvin and (Y/n) getting into the front to finally head home. Lenora leaned forward as her brother started the truck, “You shoulda been in there for the goodbyes.”

“Oh?” turning her head and leaving her cheek pressed to the headrest, (Y/n) quirked a brow at the teenager, “What happened?”

“Reverend Teagardin said he’s interested in meeting you,” Lenora beamed at her sister-in-law.

“Just her?” Arvin pulled out of the church parking lot, “Seatbelt, Lenora.”

“I got it, I got it,” the girl waved off before returning to her previous conversation, “But yeah, just (Y/n). He was talkin’ about putting together a church choir. Thinks (Y/n) would have a pretty voice.”

“She’s got a pretty voice but she ain’t singin’ for no church choir,” Arvin’s brows furrowed, white-knuckling the steering wheel at the mere idea of that damned preacher trying to get close to his wife, “Not in that man’s church choir.”

“Let the girl speak for herself,” Emma cut in, “Thought I raised you better than that.”

Pursing his lips, Arvin turned to (Y/n) for a split second before returning his stare to the road, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she looked back to her sister-in-law, “You singin’ in the choir, Lenora?”

“I’d love to try.”

Clenching her jaw, (Y/n) thought over her choices. Leave Lenora to sing in that choir - leave her sweet, naive little sister-in-law in that preacher’s hands for far longer than was typical or wanted… Or, suck it up and sing for the bastard.

“I’ll sing with ya, sweetheart.”

Arvin sighed quietly, glad none of the women in the car heard him over the rumbling of the truck’s old engine. To distract himself, and by proxy the women in the car, he suddenly changed the topic, “This damn old truck. Gonna hafta fix it up or take it in.”

“You’re gonna take it in?” (Y/n) tilted her head.

“Thing’s old; I’ll do as much as I can, darlin', but sometimes there’s only so much I can do. You know that.”

“I’ll need to go with you,” the truck jumbled with the rocky bumps of their home’s pull-in, “Pick up a few things for dinner.”

Lenora felt her heart warm and lips quirk into a smile at her brother and sister-in-law. They weren’t so into the church as her and Grandma, in fact - Lenora’s certain they only played along to please her and Grandma, but watching them was nice. Nothing to play along to, just a simple, pure expression of adoration between the couple. Arvin was never a man known for something as soft and tender as love but (Y/n), since the two were in grade school, was easily able to pull it out of him.

From high school sweethearts into married lovers. It was overjoying to know someone else was looking after Arvin.

“I’ll check up on Mr. Earskell and be right out.”

“No, no, (Y/n),” Emma shook her head, taking the woman’s hand as she was assisted out of the truck, “I’ll handle things. You and Arvin go on and stay out here.”

She didn’t bother fighting against the older woman, she was the matriarch of the family - she was just the rule maker. It was only fair.

“You don’t hafta keep callin’ em Miss and Mister,” Arvin came out and around to the hood of the truck, “They’re part a’ your family now.”

“Feels improper,” (Y/n) rebuffed, standing beside her husband, “I’m just thankful they’re lettin’ me stay here.”

“And why wouldn’t they?” he knew why she felt that way - her own family was insufferable and he could barely stand being around them for a dinner - he couldn’t imagine having to live with them.

“Let’s not open that can of worms today, huh, love?” (Y/n) placed her hands on her hips as she watched her husband look over the truck’s interior and drag over his tools and oil.

“Don’t joke ‘bout that, love,” despite his words, Arvin was smiling slightly, “Poor fishermen work hard to get those worm cans.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she sarcastically relented, peeking over the man’s shoulder, “Wish I knew anything to help you.”

“I could teach you a thing or two.”

“Maybe not now, baby.”

Which, of course, was code for ‘I’d rather not. Ever.’ but politely.

There was silence between the married couple as Arvin worked until he sighed and planted his hands on each side of the open hood, head hanging low as he murmured, “You’re really goin’ to that choir?”

“We both know I gotta be there for Lenora.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ll still be worried to hell ‘bout you,” he turned to face his wife, restraining himself cupping her cheeks and smearing grime over her, “Both a' you,” then he finally admitted as to why he was so apprehensive, “I’ve been watchin’ him.”

“You what…?!” she whisper-screamed, coming in closer to her husband, “Arvin Eugene Russell, you been what?”

“Watchin’ him,” Arvin almost regrets the admission at the sight of his wife’s shock, “He’s a no-good-sonofabitch, (Y/n). Messin’ around with a young girl behind his wife’s back. She’s good to him, (Y/n), she cooks him dinner and she does her best to keep him happy. He’s no good to her. He’s no good, at all.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrow, “Cheatin’ on his wife?”

“A girl from Lenora’s class. He’s worse than a cheater,” he turned back to the hood of the truck and quickly said, “We’re takin’ it in.”

“Why haven’t you said anything yet?”

“Nobody will ever believe me, (Y/n), you know that. Everybody here loves that damn radio bullshitter.”

Nodding quietly, (Y/n) fisted a hand in her skirt before turning towards the home’s door, “I’ll tell Lenora we’re goin’.”

The topic is ultimately dropped as they leave into town. As they take the truck in for the shop and as they pick out items for dinner that night and even on the walk home. Reverend Preston Teagardin didn’t come up again, neither did his affairs or his disgustingly, sickeningly low age preference for said affairs.

They weren’t the only people in town on watch of their new preacher in town, they were just another young couple walking home.

Even as dinner passed and time for rest came - as they pressed into bed and huddled together in the cold night. Teagardin was temporarily forgotten, pushed to the backs of their minds as they slipped into slumber.

And when Arvin darts up from bed after another nightmare over finding his father’s body that fateful night, (Y/n)’s thoughts are solely on her husband. Bringing him back into the present, where he’s not in the woods finding his father knelt down in front of their makeshift church but instead in bed with his loving wife. With his sister down the hall. His grandmother at the end of the corridor and his great-uncle's own room across from theirs. He’s in a home that isn’t going anywhere - he’s with people who won’t leave him, not any time soon anyway.

It’s not until the next day, after Lenora’s first day back at school for the week had finished and her daily visit to Hellen Hatton-Laferty was over, that Teagardin even peeked back into the couple’s brains.

“If that sonofabitch touches you or Lenora, tell me,” Arvin whispered to his wife, hands holding hers tightly before she went into the church for choir practice, “I’ll make sure ain't got no hands to touch you, or Lenora, or any other unlucky woman.”

“I’ll come right to you, honey,” (Y/n) was quick to confirm for her husband, “Promise.”

“Good,” he cups his wife’s cheeks and pulls her into a tender forehead kiss before going to his sister and giving her a tight hug, “Be the loudest one there, got it?”

Lenora chuckled quietly, patting her brother’s shoulder, “You know I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) goes up the stairs and pulls one of the double doors open, “You just shouldn’t, ain’t that right, Arvin?”

A teasing shrug and he’s walking off towards the car while Lenora follows her sister-in-law up and into the church.

Teagardin is sitting in one of the pews with his back turned towards the two women.

There’s nobody else in the church despite having been told this was the meeting time. It’s silent. Preston still hasn’t turned to the two.

Lenora is fidgeting beside (Y/n) the longer the man stays quiet. The younger girl nervously bunching the skirt of her dress in her fists. Her brows drawn tight in confusion and lips pressed into a thin line.

(Y/n) steps forward, ignoring the nerves urging her to run and encouraging her knees to buckle underneath the weight of her body, “We’re here, preacher.”

His head lifted, a smile coming over his lips, an unnatural smile - one she’d imagined on the devil when he tricked another soul into his claws. Preston comes to a full stand and approaches the women, “I didn’t expect both of you to come.”

“I wanted to support Lenora.”

“How wonderful.”

~~

“Preacher’s dirty.”

“What?”

(Y/n) sighed, sitting up in bed and looking down at her husband and whispering into the night air, “Teagardin. He’s just as dirty as you said.”

Immediately, Arvin was also sat up, no longer tired and now entirely focused on his wife, “What happened?”

“Tried touchin’ Lenora ‘til I stopped him. Grabbed me. I got us out of there and now Lenora’s tryin' to figure out how to tell Ms. Emma.”

Arvin stood out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers, slipping on a shirt and his hat before heading to the bedroom door and slipping out of the room. (Y/n) followed after, eyes wide and brain springing into panic as she watched him tug on his shoes. Hurriedly, the woman put her shoes on as well while Arvin snuck out of the home, her continuing to follow after him.

Once they were in the car, (Y/n) turned to Arvin as he pulled out of the driveway, “What the hell are you doin’? It’s late, you can settle this tomorrow, can't ya?”

“No. It don’t matter if he’s with his wife or at the church, I’m puttin’ that bastard in his place. I hope that woman leaves his ass,” he shook his head, “Rotten fuckin’ bastard.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

The man was silent as he drove towards where he knew the Teagardin residence was. Every few minutes he would take off his cap and run a hand through his matted hair - if he could force himself to do so, he could almost pretend this was a nice drive with his wife. A simple late-night cruise through town with the love of his life, but then he would remember exactly why they were on a late-night cruise. A peek at (Y/n) would remind him, she must be frightened to all hell - it must’ve been awful to be in that church. Be near that rotten man.

And Arvin’s rage was freshly re-lit.

“Is this the right time?” she remembered each time her husband had repeated the phrase from his father, it was usually enough to sway him from acting out at that moment.

“Best time there is. He’s asleep - won’t be expectin’ us.”

(Y/n) settled into her passenger side seat, turning her head to stare out the window, “How’re you gonna get him out?”

Arvin was silent once again, fingers tight against the steering wheel as they pulled up to the bend at the end of the preacher’s street. He got out of the car and stormed towards the Teagardin home with (Y/n) trailing after.

It wasn’t long until Preston came stumbling out of his home with Arvin banging on the front door. Cynthia was out soon after her husband, clinging to the door frame.

“Late night for a sinner, kids,” Preston rubbed at his eyes, “Can this wait ‘til the mornin’?”

“You try touchin’ Lenora?” Arvin was blunt, he didn’t like sugar coating and he didn’t like the people who did it. Turning, he gestured to (Y/n), “Tried touchin’ my (Y/n)?”

Immediately, Preston’s eyes widened, “Now, now, I- I didn’t do nothin’ to those two.”

“Callin’ my wife a liar?”

Cynthia looked between her husband and the younger couple on her lawn, “What’s this about, Preston?”

“You just go inside now, Cynthia!” the preacher called back to his wife, “These two are full of delusions!”

“Arvin, let’s just head home now - you can take care of this tomorrow…”

Shaking his head, Arvin only approached the older man further, “My wife ain’t no liar. And those hands ain’t free of sin.”

“Go inside, Cynthia!” Preston shouted at his wife once again before turning back to the other man, “You won’t say nothing. I will have your lives ruined. Who will the town trust? Me, or two scruffy children who married straight outta high school?” he gives a forced chuckle, shaking his head and pointing at (Y/n) with a shaky hand, “Your wife… she- she… your wife is delusional. She’s crazy.”

Arvin Russell had been fighting nearly his entire life - he learned from his father and he continued on far after his father passed. Preston Teagardin had never been an athletic boy nor had he been confrontational by any means, preferring to hide in the shadows and smile his way out of trouble.

It wasn’t a mystery as to how Arvin managed to land Preston on the hard ground, chest pressing into the dirt and hands tightly wound behind his back in Arvin’s hold.

He didn’t know what he was looking for in the man. He didn’t know what he wanted from the preacher. He couldn’t kill the bastard - he still had a sister and wife to look after when his grandmother and uncle could no longer. Was it admission? Was it a promise to not even look at the women of Knockemstiff? It wasn’t an apology, he knew that - because there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be giving out forgiveness.

“You take back what you said,” Arvin grunted out, pushing his body harshly into Preston’s back and hoping it’d hurt as much as when boys did it to him on the playground, “You take back what you said about my wife, you hear me?”

“She’s crazy!”

Arvin took a hand into the preacher's hair and smushed his face deep into the dirt, “If I- “ when Teagardin’s whining got too loud, Arvin let his head up before roughly smashing it back into the ground, “Fuckin’ listen when I talk. You listenin’?” he waited for a nod of confirmation before continuing, “If I even hear your name in the same sentence as my wife’s or my sister’s, I’ll bash your fuckin’ brains in, hear me?”

“Arvin!” (Y/n) finally screamed out to her husband, hands landing on one of his arms and pulling, “Arvin, you let him go!”

“He deserves this, (Y/n)!”

“I know, but dammit Arvin, you’re gonna get the sheriff on you, let’s go home!”

Giving one last thunk of Preston’s skull into the ground, Arvin stood and kicked the man’s ribs before nodding at Cynthia with a brief ‘goodnight ma’am’ and returning to the car.

“That was a dumb thing you just did, Arvin Russell,” (Y/n) scolded, rather lightly, as her husband drove.

“I don’t regret a damn thing about it, (Y/n) Russell.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” she reached over and snatched his cap before fixing it over her own head, “I’m proud my husband cares so much.”

“Least I could do for the woman of my dreams.”

[tommodirection]

Galway Girl

Louis Tomlinson x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, fiddles, smoking, drinking, wasn’t proofread, written in thirty minutes

A/N: Heylo! This is my first fic for One Direction, so please don’t be mean! This is based off of the song Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran, and for the purpose of this fic, the some writers have been changed! Thank you, and have a nice day!

—

“Mate, listen, I know you’re gunna love it!” Niall assured Louis, gently hitting his shoulder.

Louis sighed, shaking his head, “Niall, I really don’t feel like going out,” he argued, and Niall shook his head.

“This is the one time we get to spend together, in years, and you want to sit around all day? This is Ireland! The best country in the world!” Niall threw his hands up in the air as Louis cringed.

“It is definitely not the best country in the world,” Louis grumbled.

Niall seemed to ignore him, and continued talking. “They have the best beer at this place I wanna go to, it’s just down the street! Karaoke is open too!”

Louis stared at Niall, “You really expect me to sing karaoke?”

Niall shrugged, “I don’t know, if not, there’s a buncha games and there’s an amazing band there, some of the best Irish jig music I’ve ever heard,” he reached his hand out to Louis.

Louis stared at his hand for a moment. He glanced up at the hopeful Niall, and sighed. “Fine,” he grabbed Niall’s hand and he pulled him up.

“This is gunna be great!”

—

You laughed as one of your band mates made a joke regarding the upcoming show. You were going over your notes again, nervous despite having played this hundreds of times.

You grabbed your bow and fiddle, and began playing as the band continued to joke. You moved gracefully, as you did every time you played. Your normal show would normally contain mostly slow songs, so your fiddle sounded more like a violin, but tonight, it was all upbeat.

Word had gotten round that Niall Horan was coming to the pub tonight. Another thing adding to your nerves. All of you wanted to impress him, which is why you were surprised the others weren’t practicing.

“Ey! Y/N! What are ya doing that for?” Fiona, the lead singer, called out to you. “You’re the best fiddler I know, you don’t ‘ave to worry bout it!” She complimented and you set your fiddle down, wiping your hands on your thighs.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you admitted and she shook her head.

“You’ve got nothin’ to be worried bout, love,” Fiona was a bit intimidating. Her accent was the thickest in the bands. You had only recently moved to Ireland a few years ago, you’d barely developed an accent, although you had certainly developed a taste for Guinness.

“Yeah, I guess I just need something to drink,” you paused. “Jamie, will you get me something to drink?” You asked your brother, and he nodded, setting down his guitar.

While you had joined the band, he continued on as a solo act. He was playing after you guys were finished, and you had invited him to join you before the show.

He left the room, leaving you and your band alone. Nancy and Eli began a quiet conversation, leaving you and Fiona.

“Are ya nervous cause of the famous singer comin’ down tonight?” She asked, sitting down across from you.

You nodded, brushing hair out of your face. You were only a little older than Niall, about a year. You were a fan of One Direction from the start. Despite living in Ireland when the band was formed, your favorite wasn’t Niall. It was Louis.

You had been infatuated with his accent, his humor making you fall even deeper. He has a certain air to him, and seeing him become more and more exhausted over the years hurt you. He wasn’t as flamboyant as he used to be, you had a feeling Simon Cowell had something to do with it.

“Well,” Fiona interrupted your thoughts, “I ‘eard that he’s bringin’ a mate with ‘im,” you squinted at her, trying to figure out where she was going with it. “Look at it this way. “E’ll be chatting’ it up with ‘is mate, ‘e won’t even be listenin’,” she finished, leaning back in her chair.

Your brother walked in seconds later, handing you your pint. Maybe Fiona was right. Sure, a part of you didn’t want her to be right, but it did calm your nerves a little.

You took a big swing out of your pint, swallowing it down in seconds.

Fiona stood and made her way across the room, peeking behind the makeshift curtain. Her eyes locked on something, and she quickly turned to the rest of you, giving a thumbs up. Showtime.

You gave your brother a quick hug, and grabbed your fiddle, making your way onstage with the others. Nancy counted you into, and you began to play.

Typically when you were playing, you’d go into a trace, focusing on your music, and nothing else. It was your zone. It made it seem as there was no one else in the room.

You finished the first set of two, and gave a content chuckle, looking at Fiona do a mocking catwalk up and down the stage.

You glanced around the crowd, trying to see if you could get a glimpse of the brunette singer, but it was hard to seem with the lights in your face.

Not even considering the front row, you began smiling at each person who was sitting there, and as Fiona talked, you sat on the edge of the small stage, waving at some people in the audience. Your eyes scammed over the audience again, and this time, your heart stopped.

Niall Horan was clapping, smiling as Fiona told the crowds some jokes. That wasn’t the most shocking part though.

Fucking Louis Tomlinson was sat behind him.

You get your cheeks heat up, your heart racing. There was no fucking way.

Yet there he was, a small smile settled on his lips as he watched the stage. His eyes ran over each member, before settling on you. You felt your breath hitch, and you gave a small little wave, although your hand was slightly trembling, so it probably looked pathetic.

It shocked you even more when he waved back, your mouth dropped and you sat for a few more moments, looking directly into his eyes. They were the most delicate shade of blue.

A gentle nudge to your side threw your out of your trance. You broke eye contact with Louis and looked up quickly. Fiona was looking down at you, a small smirk on her face.

“‘Ow bout we finish up now, yeah?” She teased and you stood up abruptly, racing over to pick up your fiddle.

This was the song you were most nervous about.

After catching wind that Niall was going to be here, your band decided to play a One Direction song. The only song that could easily fit a fiddle in it, was Act My Age, one you knew to be one of Niall’s favorites.

Within the first few seconds of the song, you saw Niall’s face light up.

Your first solo came up, the classic Irish jig, and Niall stood up, and began doing his dance. He motioned for Louis to join him.

Louis was laughing his ass off, holding a hand to his stomach. He continuously shook his head, until Niall hauled him to his feet.

He kept laughing and you found it hard to focus, being able to hear his laugh despite the adrenaline pulsing through your ears.

On your second to last solo, Louis finally caved, and he and Niall both were dancing, Louis’s moves a bit clumsy. Niall was nailing it though, although you had assumed he had a lot of practice, and Louis had very little.

Soon after the song, your performance ended, earning a standing ovation from the crowd. The band bowed and made their way behind the curtain again.

Fiona turned to the group, squealing and opening her arms for a group hug. You all were squished in and shortly after the hug, the teasing began.

Eli looked you up and down, chucking. “I’m surprised she didn’t drop her panties right then and there,” he poked your side and you gasped.

“Eli!” You scolded and he shrugged.

“‘E has a point, love. I coulda sworn ya were gunna mess up yer solo when you were watchin’ the other one dancin’,” she chided and you groaned, throwing your head in your hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” you stood, grabbing an empty glass, “I’m gunna go get a drink.” You swiftly exited the room, not wanting any more embarrassment.

You stood at the bar, placing the empty pint down. You flagged down the bartender and asked for another, and you felt someone slide in next to you.

“Put it on our tab,” he told the bartender, and he nodded, quickly going to fix another drink.

You turned to the stranger who had just bought your drink, and your knees almost gave out.

“I-I, uhm, Louis, hi!” You exclaimed, sticking your hand out. He took it and gave it a little squeeze.

“You put on quite an amazing show, loved every second of it,” he smiled at you, a genuine smile.

You glanced down at your feet, and looked back into his eyes quickly. They were admiring your face, and you felt yourself blush under his gaze.

“Thank you, it means a lot,” you gave him a bashful smile and drummed your fingers on the table. “What was your favorite song?” These were typical questions you’d ask a normal person after your show, but Louis was far from normal.

He paused to think, tapping his finger against his chin, “I really loved Act My Age, but I did love the original song,” he squinted, trying to remember , “I think it said something like, ‘I wanna be mature, I wanna grow some more’ or something like that?” He suggested and your heart fluttered.

“Yeah, that’s one that I wrote a while ago called ‘Mature’. Fiona really loves it, and it’s one of my favorite songs to perform,” you admitted shyly, and he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s always nice to perform something you wrote, gives you a sense of pride, I guess,” he agreed and you nodded.

You heard a song come on over the jukebox. And your eyes lit up. (Yes, a jukebox. They’d play that music in between shows so they’d last all night). “I love this song!” You laughed and began humming along.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before,” you watched him try and rack his brain.

“It’s an old Gaelic song, one my mum used to sing to me,” you commented and continued humming.

“This might sound like an odd suggestion, but do you maybe wanna play some games?”

And that’s how you ended up where you were. You had just beaten him at darts, you weren’t at all surprised.

He got to choose the next game to play, and he chose pool, a game you had gotten pretty good at over the years. You decided not to say anything, and let the game play out.

That game ended pretty quickly, the same result as the last one.

“Damn,” Louis chuckled, and put his pool stick back in its holder. “You’re pretty good at these games.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “Well when you play here every weekend, you learn the bar pretty well. And getting to know the bar, means getting to know the games.

He laughed lightly, pulling a box out of his pocket, “I’ve got to go take a smoke quick, you wanna come?” He offered, and you happily obliged, following him out of the bar, your brother’s music playing lightly in the background.

You both stepped out into the crisp night air, inhaling at the breath of fresh air. Louis pulled a lighter out of his pocket, lighting his cigarette and pulling it to his lips, taking a long drag from it.

As he breathed out, it vaporized into the air, the scent already sticking to your clothing.

He offered you the cigarette, and you took a small drag, holding back a cough as you let it out. You only smoked when you were stressed, a habit you’d been trying to break, but you figured you could make an exception for Louis Tomlinson.

After he had finished his cigarette, he allowed you to crush it, putting it out on the sidewalk. You both eyed the door, before looking back at each other.

“I don’t really wanna go back in,” you hinted. And he nodded.

“Me neither.”

“Will Niall notice you’re gone?” You asked, wanting to get away from here with him.

Louis chuckled lowly, “No, he’ll be preoccupied with that little blonde friend of yours.”

You knew Fiona was going home with someone tonight, it wasn’t surprising.

“My place is just down the road. If you wanna head there,” you nodded your head down the road towards your flat.

Louis grinned, “You lead the way, love.”

You grabbed his hand and began running down the street, passing though little crowds and trying to not fall on the road.

You stopped outside of your place, and turned to face Louis, only seeing he was inches away from your face.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. He placed his hands on your waist, leaning down to connect your lips.

It was soft, sensual, sweet, it tasted a little smoky, but you didn’t mind. You ran your fingers through each other’s hair, oblivious to the people walking around you. You were in the zone again. No one existed but you two.

You pulled away, and bit your lip, Louis pressed a kiss to your forehead, wrapping you up in a hug. You sat for a few minutes, swaying under the streetlight.

“I’ve got Doritos upstairs,” you said, and you felt his chest shake with laughter.

“I’m in.”

You led him upstairs, never letting go of his hand. You entered your flat, finally letting go of his hand in order to find the promised Doritos. Your eyes caught the bottle of wine you’d be saving for a special occasion, and brought it out, along with two wine glasses.

You poured two glasses for you and Louis, and took a seat on the couch, legs intertwined.

“So, where are you from?” He asked, shoving a Dorito in his mouth.

“Galway, just moved there a few years ago,” you answered taking a small sip of wine.

“Galway,” he repeated, studying your face again, “My little Galway girl.”

You giggled. “How bout you?” You already knew the answer, but you wanted him to say it.

“Doncaster, born and raised,” he smiled, looking down at his wine. “It’s a beautiful place.”

“I’m sure it is,” you added, and Louis laughed airily.

You spent the next few hours talking about yourselves, talking into the early hours of the morning, both finally passing out, however, before you passed out, you had heard Louis mumble something to you.

“I’m gonna write a song about you, my little Galway girl and a perfect night,” he said, his voice slurring from exhaustion.

“Whatever you say,” you whispered, passing out moments later. The next morning you woke up alone, and all that was there was an apology note.

You didn’t believe what he had said about the song, until about a year later.

You were driving on your way to another gig, a solo one this time. You had turned up the radio. Almost crashing when you heard the opening chorus of the song.

“She played the fiddle in an Irish band,

But she fell in love with an English man,

Kissed her on the neck and

Said “baby I just wanna dance.”

It had to be coincidence, but as you continued listening, you knew that Louis was telling the truth that night. He had kept his word. You quickly jotted down the name of the song and the artist who sang it, Ed Sheeran. You were quite familiar with his work, and knew he didn’t normally write upbeat songs.

When you reached your gig, you quickly Googled who had written the song, and right at the top of the results, was Louis’s name.

—

When you arrived home that night, you decided to DM him. You didn’t expect an answer, but it was worth a try.

y/n:l/n - You really fucking did it, Doncaster.

You got a reply seconds later.

louist91 - what can I say, Galway girl? I keep my word

Tagging @everything-is-alrightt bc I asked her on anon if she wanted to be tagged and she said yes... so... 😂

[spookypotato]

Here's to my wonderful Verwandtschaft! @witchybisexualmess , happy, happy birthday! I hope you enjoy this a tiny bit... I wanted you to have some fluffy times.

I'm sorry for pulling you into the madness that oknutzy but there you go anyway.

Characters by @lumosinlove. Thank you!

The next step

Finn loved his life. He loved that the first thing he got to see every morning now, were his beautiful boys. His boys.

Logan must have felt him being awake, because Finn could see his eyes fluttering open, lightly brushing his shoulder.

"Hey Lo'. Slept well?", Finna asked, keeping his voice as quiet as possible not wanting to wake up Leo.

Leo, their giant of a boyfriend. He had his limbs wrapped around Logan, face looking relaxed if not pleased, even though he was still asleep. His legs were so long they reached over to tangle with Finns even unconsciously. He could feel the blondes warm feet touching his, now cold ones.

Logan must have read his mind, because he seemed to snuggle back into the warmth provided by the strong muscles against his back and the gentle arms thrown lazily over his body.

"I love you.", Logan mumbled, "both of you."

Logan felt a lingering kiss on his neck, just under his ear. He had known Leo was awake, and just waiting for the right opportunity to make it known even to the red head.

"Good morning, sleepy head.", Finn leaned over and kissed the top of Leo's head.

"'Morning, sweetheart.", came his raspy reply.

Finn moved closer to the others. He needed contact. He always needed contact. They were more than happy to help him out.

Logan was on him, the instant he felt him even shift the slightest in their direction. He wrapped his legs around Finns hips and pressed his face to the others chest.

"Fine, leave me for him, I see how it is.", they heard Leo's voice from the side of the bed, Logan had just moved away from. He was sitting on the edge, putting on some fuzzy socks.

"No, Nutty, Baby, dont leave us.", Finn pouted and he heard some grumbling from Logan, which was swallowed by Finn's body.

"I mean, if you dont want breakfast that's fine, but I do.", he got up and walked away in the direction of their kitchen.

Finn couldnt believe his luck. How was he worthy of these two people's attraction. He desperately wanted to wake up like that, with his boys, tomorrow. And the day after. And the days after that, until the end of his life.

~

"Hey Nutty, pass me the strawberries?", Logan asked from his chair next to Finn's. In front of them there was a stack of pancakes that would have filled them up after the Stanley cup finals.

Those games were long over. They were in their summer break now, mostly relaxing sometimes the team got together and practiced, but all the pressure was off of them. They were mostly fooling around on the ice, playing games and incorporating new rules into each one. Finn loved every second of it.

He snapped out of his thoughts, when Leo held out one of the strawberries to Logans mouth with a cheeky smile and a "here you go, sweetheart." They knew what they were doing. Finn was sure of it.

Logan took the fruit between his teeth, carefully wrapping his lips around it, never breaking eye contact with Leo. Once the brunette had bitten a piece of, Leo ate the rest of their shared strawberry. They were still staring at each other.

Their love hadnt faded one bit since they got together. Finn was so glad. He couldnt imagine ever taking the two amazing boys for granted. He couldnt imagine ever walking up and not melting at the sight of them cuddling each other and him. He almost loved their love for each other more than his own love for them. He loved them kissing each other almost more than him kissing them himself.

Lost in thoughts, his eyes trailed to Logans lips. He hadnt noticed before. There was a red smudge on his lips. Finn desperately wanted to lick it off. Then he remembered he could now. He often forgot, that he was allowed to have them now. To think about them. To kiss them.

He moved his hand over to Logan's side, cupping his chin with his hand. After breaking the eye contact with their other boyfriend, after a moment, which almost felt like hesitation, Logan turned to Finn and let him connect their mouths. Their kiss was slow and deep and they could feel Leo's eyes on them. Finn tasted the strawberry, licking over the spot on Logan's lip he had stared at before. They broke apart and Logan smiled at him. A genuinely happy smile. One that told him, that his life couldnt be better. Finn smiled too.

~

After they were full, there were still half of the pancakes left. They put them in the fridge to heat up later, as they would get hungry again in a few hours minimum.

Finn and Logan stood next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, at the sink, washing their dishes. Off course they could have bought themselves a dishwasher, but they have grown to like the dynamic of them watchin Leo make food and him watching them clean up. It was their arrangement. It was something that connected them.

"You know, it's bizarre, really.", they heard Leo, sitting on one of their counters. "When I was younger, back in NOLA"-Finn loved how he didnt say home anymore, he called them his home now. His family.- "Mama would always make me do the dishes. She'd said once you live on your own, you'll have to do them, so you need to practice. Little did she know I would have two wonderful boyfriends to do it for me.", he ended, hoping of the counter and pressed a kiss to their cheeks, with a little "Thank you."

That was one of their rituals. Once Leo was done with cooking, he got a kiss on each cheek for both of his boyfriends. Once they were done with cleaning they got one each from Leo.

While Finn put their towels up to dry, and cleaned the sink of any left over soap, he heard Logan mumble something. It was too silent to understand, but he had definitely said something.

"What, Lo'?", Finn asked pulling his boyfriend in by his waist and kissing his nose gently.

Logan kissed along his jaw for a second and then turned to the blond.

"Would you like that, Leo?"

"Like what?"

"A family."

Leo hesitated. Then he took their hands in his, and told them, "I have a family. I have you guys."

Logan looked down, hesitant, if not shy. "I meant, would you ever like children."

Finn had thought about it before. Off course he had. Raising children of his own, even before he had met Leo, or even Logan. I was something he had always wanted, but he hadnt discussed it with his boyfriends. Were they even that far along? Finn could imagine them raising their own kid though.

Debating about what they should wear. Teasing them a bit about their first crush, if they had one. They would probably be embarrassing parents. Wow. That sounded really good though. Them being parents. Their child coming home from school, running into their waiting arms and telling them all about their day.

But off course Finn wouldn't force them to adopt a kid. He wanted it. He had wanted it since he was a kid himself, but if Logan or Leo didnt want to, he would accept that. They probably didn't anyway. Neither had ever mentioned anything until that day.

Logan was still waiting for Leo's answer. It couldnt be easy for him to. If he said no and one of his boyfriends did, he would feel guilty for holding them back, and if he said yes and one of his boyfriends no, then he would feel awful for making them feel, like they were holding him back. But he had to answer.

"Yeah, I would like to have a child with you. Some time in the future, but even now.", when neither Logan nor Finn replied -Finn being lovestruck at that moment, because there was a possibility for them to become an actual family- Leo quickly added, "But no worries, guys. I know that isn't a top priority of yours. Or maybe you dont even want children. I know there are so many people that dont. And off course that's fine. We dont have to, ever. You know what, just forget I-"

He was cut off by a hard kiss from Logan. Once he hadnt been in a 'my-boyfriend-wants-to-have-children-with-me' daze, Logan had jumped up to Leo, hooking his legs around the blonde's waist, knowing he would easily be able to carry him. He felt Leo's hands wrap around him, holding him in place, while he let himself he kissed by his boyfriend, overwhelmed with emotions.

Logan stopped abruptly, though. Tapping Leo's arm so he would let him down. It was like he had just remembered Finn's presence again.

"I'm so sorry, Fishy. I didnt even- I should have asked.", his voice sounded close to tears, if from the blissful blur of wanting children with your boyfriend or from not consulting Finn on that matter, he couldn't tell.

"Me, too.", was all Finn could contribute to this, way too emotional morning. He wasnt made for thinking that much at 10 am.

He felt Logan lifting him, with way too much ease for their height difference. Leo was behind him, wrapping his arms around both of them. Logan let him back down gently, but they weren't moving away, pressing each other closer together than should have been physically possible.

"Imagine us raising a child.", Logan said disbelieving, while not letting go of his boys.

"Yeah, pretty crazy", Leo answered, clearly in his own thoughts at the moment. "I do want it though. With you."

"When you imagine it, ... how old we are.", Finn's voice broke through the thought filled silence.

Logan and Leo looked at each other, seemingly understanding the other without using words. It was Logan that answered, "Probably in a few years time? Leo shouldn't have to be a father, before he's turned into a legal adult. He should get to enjoy his youth."

"Good old days.", Finn said wistfully, instantly shaking at feeling those words cross his tongue. "I feel old."

[thevioletjones]

48. “You make me want things I can’t have.” 💜

Thanks for the inspiration! 💜

Prompt 3

Buffer

Ian Gallagher was starting to become a problem.

And the worst part about it was that he wasn’t even a problem that Mickey wanted to resolve. No. He just kept holding Ian closer and refusing to push him away like he should. He was just letting him ruin Mickey’s mediocre life. Because something about Ian was unshakeable. It wasn’t just that Ian kept coming back no matter what Mickey ever said or did, either. Ian was definitely persistent, but Mickey had formed an attachment too, even though he did everything in his power to hide it. It was still there, buried under layers of caustic remarks, aloof expressions, and occasional lashing out. He wasn’t proud of his behavior, but it was just who he was, and remaining unchanged in his ways was easier than the alternative.

Ian was definitely too good for him. Sure, he was hood trash too, but they were on two different levels. Ian was buffed up with a certain surface shine that Mickey lacked. Although, he would admit he’d come a long way in his style and hygiene game since his early days as an unwashed miscreant. Mickey was a gay man after all, and not immune to gaying certain things up, despite his tendency to flout homo conventions. If he wanted the ability to get a decent dick in his ass, there were standards that he’d learned to push himself to meet. This was the glossiest Mickey was ever gonna get, and it still came with a pinch of grime and hostility.

Maybe he’d developed enough sense to give a fuck, but he still didn’t give two shits either; a concept that walking contradictions the world over could likely comprehend.

The thing about Gallagher was that he was sweet. Not in an annoying, cloying, obvious way that was anathema to everything Mickey was about, but in a low-key, casual, incidental kind of way that somehow managed to be attractive, even to someone with Mickey’s abrasive nature. Ian played tough, and he genuinely was in many ways, but he had a gooey, marshmallow center that evened him out. Mickey didn’t see himself as having that sort of balance.

But there were these unsettling moments like this, usually in the middle of the night or early in the morning, when Mickey would catch himself watching Ian unawares. Unawares because he only ever did it when the redhead was deep in sleep. Suddenly, Mickey would be Mr. Contemplation, burning a hole into the face of the dude he was banging, daring to wonder what could happen between them if he wasn’t an emotionally stunted asshole. And then he’d reflect on what Ian’s life was like whenever he wasn’t around; the things Mickey acted like he didn’t care to know.

These circular thought patterns never led anywhere good, because at the end of the day, Ian wasn’t his. And Mickey could never be Ian’s. He’d long ago resigned himself to a certain destiny that involved long-term solitude until his dying day, which he’d always been fairly certain would come prematurely and most likely in violent fashion. It would be ridiculous to drag someone else into his vortex of apathy for life and the general traditions of living it. Especially someone like Ian, who was good; who helped people because he genuinely cared about, like, the well-being of humanity and shit. Despite the occasional soft look or revelatory comment that Ian would throw his way, he knew better than to think he’d want to be saddled with Mickey’s non-reciprocating ogre-y ass.

Usually when one of these intense, one-sided staring sessions would take place, Mickey would overcompensate for silently slipping by adding an extra dose of rudeness when he kicked Ian out after the fact. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why Gallagher still bothered with him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get laid elsewhere. Ian was the type that would never have trouble finding a willing ass. Yet somehow he kept coming back to Mickey and ignoring all the negatives thrown in his path. It didn’t make much sense on either of their parts… allowing each other in on any terms. Probably meant that Ian was just as fucked up as he was, really.

Blowing out the last hit off his smoke, Mickey glanced at the bedside clock and stubbed out the cigarette butt. 3:26 AM and he was wide awake, just gawking at his slumbering ginger fuck buddy, and trying to repress the multitude of emotions swirling within him. It was truly pathetic.

He could just get the hell up and drag his ass to the living room to play video games or watch late-night TV, but no. Apparently he liked suffering and feeling conflicted. What a pussy.

Not ten minutes went by before there was slow movement from the other side of the bed... Ian turning over in his sleep, reaching an arm out, and searching. Searching for the warmth of Mickey’s body, it would seem.

A big hand landed on his thigh, rubbing it softly as tired eyes blinked open, and a groggy voice sounded, “What’re’y’doin’?”

Oh, just fuckin’ lying here starin’ at your pasty ass for some reason. “Can’t sleep.”

“Didn’t wear you out?” Ian asked with a breathy titter, squeezing the sensitive flesh precariously close to Mickey’s groin.

Maybe it made his dick twitch a little.

“When did one round ever wear me out?”

“Pretty sure there were two rounds. Did you forget about the couch?”

“Random handies while watchin’ mediocre porn barely counts as a round, carrot-top.”

“A, it wasn’t that mediocre, and B, do you only consider it sex if penetration is involved?”

“I mean… it helps.”

“What about blowjobs, then? How would you classify them?”

“Sex act, but not sex, sex. Know what I mean?”

Ian laughed. “Not really. What about lesbians?”

“Definitely don’t wanna have my cock anywhere near those.”

“Har har. I mean, what would you call lesbian sex?”

“Gross? Boring? I don’t fuckin’ know. Never had it, don’t plan to.”

Ian laughed harder and it made Mickey feel good. “Pretty sure lesbians don’t want fuck all to do with you either, bottom boy.”

“Hey, likin’ what I like don’t make me a bitch.”

“No, but you seem pretty hostile toward anything but a real live human cock poking you in the asshole. I mean, naysaying getting your dick sucked? That’s a bold bossy bottom stance to take.”

“What can I say? I’m a simple man with simple kinks. Aren’t you glad I don’t need any freaky extra shit to get me off?”

“What kinda freaky extras are we talkin’?”

“Fuck off, Gallagher. Don’t act like you don’t just live for stickin’ that big red dick inside any tight manhole that’ll accommodate it. Does that make you a hungry top just begging for it?”

“I prefer ‘brutal top,’ since it’s so big, as you were so kind to mention.”

Mickey rolled his eyes into tomorrow. “Gotta remember to stop accidentally complimenting it. You get so fuckin’ uppity about it.”

Ian rolled over and boxed him in, nuzzling around his face and neck, while Mickey tried to bat him away.

“Come on,” prodded Ian. “Big hard cock seeks tight little hole for another round of deep penetration.”

Mickey could feel said big hard cock firming right up against his hip. “Ixnay on the cutesy man seeking man dirty talk, fuckhead. I will make you take that hulking boner elsewhere.”

“No you won’t,” Ian replied, humping down against him.

Of course he wouldn’t, but he had to front at least a little bit. That was the nature of his inner beast.

While they were fucking, Mickey could just let himself get lost in all the appropriate heightened sensations that really good sex immersed him in. Immersed him and Ian in. Ian and him. Them. Reveling in the pleasure of carnality was totally kosher… as long as it limited him from basking in that additional Ian stuff. That feelings stuff that he had no idea what to do with. That unfathomable connection that existed between them.

He let Ian kiss him a lot too. Like, a lot, a lot. That wasn’t customary for him with other dudes. In fact, it barely ever happened. It was just another habit Ian had slipped under the wire to form with him when he wasn’t paying enough attention. Mickey was pretty sure he’d kissed more girls in his life than boys, because that was always an easy, less disgusting way to publicly appear straight during the years he’d spent in the closet. With guys, there was nothing to prove and everything to hide, so it just wasn’t something he incorporated into his casual sex routine.

Before Ian, he hadn’t exactly attracted the kind of dudes that warranted sticking around for in any capacity, or who made any kind of effort to stick with him. There were never any near-miss boyfriends, or pine-worthy hookups. Sex was always transactional and he’d been perfectly fine with that arrangement.

The truth was that once he’d fucked up and invited Ian in for repeats over and over again, he started to figure out that the sex just kept getting hotter and hotter. That when two bodies really took the time to get to know each other, things fit better, motions got smoother, and orgasms got a thousand times stronger. Turned out that one-night-stands were not where the fuck it was at. Those were always crapshoots with odds that were at best 25/75 in favor of mediocrity. With Ian, it was guaranteed total fulfillment 100% of the time.

That was the only explanation he could find for this unexpected addiction he was stuck with. An addiction to Ian and his stupidly perfect cock. The rest of his body was alright too. And when he spoke, he wasn’t completely fucking annoying. His personality and his nature were tolerable. Mickey didn’t want to gouge his eyes out every time he got sucked into a conversation.

They didn’t really hang out, though. Outside of the bedroom, that is. It was like the whole game changed when they were in bed. They could fuck, they could goof around and have a laugh, they could wrestle, they could accidentally say something profound once in a while… but if Ian had a bag of food when he dropped by, Mickey wasn’t about to sit on the couch and watch TV with him while he ate it, and he definitely wasn’t going to accept a portion for himself.

Until tonight, that is. Or last night, or however the fuck time was identified when you were a natural night owl.

Tonight, they’d crossed another invisible line in the sand, and Mickey had found himself chowing down on tacos, while heckling some shitty 90s action film; his part-time lover chuckling next to him with a sloppy mouth.

It was fucking terrifying.

So as soon as he’d realized what was actually happening, and how much he didn’t hate it, Mickey had switched over to some hardcore porn. They’d cracked jokes about it at first, but it’d done the trick of quickly leading to the familiar comfort of sexual gratification. With that justification, Mickey could just sweep the whole ‘watching a movie and eating together like they were on a date’ thing under the proverbial rug without further examination.

At least until Ian had fallen asleep around 2 AM. Then it was dwell city.

By 4:30 AM, Ian had fucked him into the mattress once again, and promptly fallen back asleep without a care in the world. Mickey was more than sated, but felt even more awake than he had an hour ago, his brain full of fresh bullshit about the man next to him and what was happening between them.

He opened his bedside drawer and pulled out his stash, knowing the high would fog up his brain enough to go off on thought tangents, and eventually shut down for at least five hours. Within ten minutes, he felt a little better, or at least more distracted. He was still very aware of Ian’s looming presence in the darkness, though. He wanted to be comforted by it, but he just couldn’t relax.

There’d always been a buffer between them, which Mickey had been diligent in maintaining, and he could see it slowly falling away now. If he didn’t step up and push back, pretty soon there’d be no barrier left standing. Who the fuck knew what could happen then.

He hated it. He felt so fucking out of control, when it should be the easiest thing in the world to control. All he had to do was break it off. He knew exactly what to say and do to make that happen. Knew enough to be able to really hit Ian where it hurt, both literally and figuratively.

But goddamn it, he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to make Ian sad, and he didn’t want to give into his own desire to try for more. He would always fuck it up, because he was a fuck-up by nature. His goddamn knuckles spelled it all out in block letters.

He wanted Ian, but he didn’t want the responsibility. Didn’t trust himself, because no one had ever trusted him before in his entire life. What kind of dumbass wanted that kind of damaged douchebag for a boyfriend? No sane one.

Against his better judgment, Mickey rolled closer to Ian and wrapped an arm around his middle, spooning him the way he secretly liked it when Ian spooned him. He held him close and breathed in his scent.

“You make me want things I can’t have,” he murmured to himself, exhaling heavily against Ian’s neck.

He fell asleep swiftly, and in the morning, he didn’t ask Ian to leave.

[mankaithings]

Fluff scenario of itaru x reader where itaru watches his girlfriend seeing a part in an anime she loves where a prince/character with a prince like personality kissing the female characters hand (like a prince would to a princess) and she swoons over it and while watching that scene, she talks about her dream of having a significant other kiss her hand and call her a princess and itaru hears this and later on or the next day, he has this prince aura, takes her hand, and says something sweet while calling her a princess and kisses her hand? So something fluffy like that plz!

Itaru’s fingers continued to push the buttons on his console while his eyes followed every movement of his character and Banri’s as their characters continued to fight in the game

Finally Banri let out a loud groan once Itaru finally killed off his character, making the older gamer snicker at him

“Shouldn’t you be spendin’ some time with your girlfriend?” Banri grumbled and took a bite from the snacks Omi laid out for them on the counter, “She’s been watchin’ some anime with Muku over there.” He motioned for you who rather than cuddling with your boyfriend was gushing over a fictional guy with Muku who was just as excited as you

“We’re going out later anyway.” Itaru shrugged but still he followed Banri’s gaze towards you who was basically shaking Muku’s soul out of his body as you giddily watched the scene on the television screen

“Imagine thinking you have a boyfriend like that but turns out he’s just some old man with a twelve year old’s mind.” Banri snickered as the mc in the anime you were watching literally sweep the girl off the ground

But Itaru’s attention shifted from the television towards you who was sighing in admiration

“If he was real, I would have gone out with him.” You said honestly as Muku nodded along with you

“I wanna be just like him!” He gushed, “Kind, strong and can protect the person he loves!”

Itaru continued to listen to yours and Muku’s conversation while beside him, Banri continued to laugh at him

Even in the beginning, Itaru knew of your high level of imagination. If he was to be honest it was what pulled him to you, whimsical and honest. You were the one who made him break his rule about not going out with anybody in the company, although his other co-workers often wondered how the oh so responsible and prince-like Itaru ever went for girl like you

Even when he finally shown you his true form- his messy, gamer self- you didn’t judge him and even stayed with him despite not being the prince you thought he was

Itaru never said it out loud but that moment was when he finally knew you were a keeper

But Itaru wonders how long it has been since you two actually went out on a proper date and not just take-outs and cuddling on the couch while he continues to game on his phone and even though you never really complained- you always reassured him that you enjoy relaxing with him- he still knew you had your dream dates

“Oh you two were done gaming?” Itaru blinked and looked down at you who was munching on the cookies that Omi baked

Itaru hummed, “The anime done?”

“Yep,” You beamed, “Muku said he was going to the grocery with Izumi so I’m going to take my leave.”

Itaru frowned, “Did you go here just to watch an anime with Muku?” He asked in a teasing matter

“I also came to see my boyfriend,” You grinned as Banri made a gagging noise behind Itaru, “I’ll see you later.” You said and kissed him

“Make sure to wear your best dress.” He reminded you before you left

“Another round?” Banri raised his game console

Itaru was tempted, but he knew himself and if he played one round after another he wouldn’t get anything done

“Nah, I’ll pass.” He shrugged and took out his phone already dialing your favorite restaurant

------------------------

“You look fancy.” Your friend said as she entered your bedroom, “Going out on a date?”

“Yep, Itaru said that I should dress up.” You twirled as you looked at yourself in the full body mirror, enjoying the sight of you in your favorite red dress and black stilettos as your hair was curled into perfection and your make-up on point

“Ah I’m so jealous!” Your best friend groaned and rolled on your bed, “Must be nice to have a boyfriend like him.” She sighed

You giggled, as Itaru’s wish, you never told anybody about Itaru’s ‘off mode’ or his gamer mode where his prince-like character soon turns into a passionate cussing gamer who cheered whenever he won and spent his money on so many merch like figurines and those expensive gaming consoles

“Yeah he’s a keeper.” You agreed, despite not being the prince character you expected, Itaru’s a wonderful boyfriend. Sure dates weren’t what you had in mind but in the end you always enjoyed the time you spent with him

“He’s here.” Your friend said and handed you your purse, “I’ll keep your house company while you have fun for the night.” She winked but you just rolled your eyes at her

“See you later!” You bid her goodbye and ran towards the front door

“Hey Taru...chi?” You blinked as you saw Itaru at your front door, looking great in his white button up shirt and black blazer and slacks

You already knew your boyfriend was a beauty- though you had to admit his hair styled did make you feel things- but what surprised you were the flowers in his hands

“For my beautiful princess.” He said smoothly as offered you the flowers

“Oh my god this is so disgustingly cute that I can’t look away!” Your friend gushed from afar making you chuckle and grab the flowers off Itaru

“Shall we go?” He smiled oh so charmingly that even your friend whooped after you closed the door behind you

“Is there anything that I missed?” You asked him amused at his attitude towards you, “Or did you forget that I already saw every side of you?”

Itaru just smiled at you, “Is it wrong to want to spoil my girlfriend from time to time?” He said as he grabbed your hand to give it a kiss, “You look really beautiful tonight by the way.” He complimented you

You could feel your face heating up as he opened his car door for you, you had a feeling you were in for a night full of surprises

[bb-tings]

unspoken magic - drew starkey

magic - gabrielle aplin 

(10/10 reccomend ALL HER MUSIC)

so i found this song on spotify while i was looking for a song to write a cute fluffy drew fic to and it gave me such drew vibes bc homeboy doesn’t know how to use any form of social media lol...also the rant is literally me. like my thoughts and actions and beliefs. some of yall 13 year olds really don’t know the meaning of BOUNDARIES.

...anyways enjoy,

-BRI

if you want to join or get taken off the taglist just let me know in my messages or in the comments 😊

taglist: @ampanonyg @ims0golden @jjsmentalpolaroids @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @jjmbanks @maybanksbaby @1-800-jjslut  @simpforstarkey @jellyfishbeansontoast

Remember when we snuck out of your birthday, didn't even say goodbye, 'Cause even there in a room full of faces, all I saw was you and I

     Everyone was having a blast dancing around, drinking, laughing. It was Drew’s birthday after all. The cast had decided to rent out a club and invite family and friends, including everyone who worked on set, the workers have become more like family than colleagues. There was so much chaos going on and while Y/n was so proud of the cast and herself for pulling the event off for her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but feel a little antisocial. She was a social butterfly, but everyone knew that after days of being the life of the party and extroverted, she needed time alone and started to shut down, wanting to be alone. Y/n was so excited for the party but when it came time for her to get dressed up and drunk with her friends, she found herself sitting alone on a couch booth while sipping wine, not really seeing the fun in getting wasted and stupid drunk. 

     Y/n watched as Drew and Rudy drunkenly danced back to back, screaming out the words to OMG by Usher, she laughed as he made eye contact with the young girl and pointed to her, wiggling his finger for her to join him. She held her glass up and tried giving him a believable smile, but the older boy knew better, so he made his way over to her.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Drew slid his way next to his girlfriend and used the towel on the table to wipe the sweat off of his face. “Did somebody upset you?”

“Nothing bubba, I’m fine.”

      Y/n looked up from her short-lived attempt at avoiding Drew’s eyes to him already looking at her. She watched as his hand moved toward her hair as he pushed a fallen piece behind her ear. He looked around her face and finally met her eyes, not believing her. “I’m fine, Drew. I promise.”

     Drew sat back away from her as he let out a loud sigh. “Why do you do that? Why do you lie to my face and tell me that you’re ok like I’m going to buy it? Why can’t you just tell me the truth?”

     “Drew, I really don’t wanna do this right now,” the young girl pleaded. “It’s your birthday, can’t we just have a good time and not worry about me right now?” To that Drew looked at his other half like she had grown another half. 

     “Ok, first of all, this,” He moved his finger quickly in the small space between them. “This Is not a fight. This is me being upset because my girlfriend won’t let me worry about her. I guess she doesn’t know how relationships work.” Drew teased the girl with a small smile on his face. “And second, we both know that I can’t have a good time if you’re sitting over here all sad and mopey.”

It's all the words you never say, the way I catch you watchin' me, I know that you love me, i know you can feel the magic, we don't need to talk about

     After a little back and forth, the young boy had finally gotten the girl to spill the truth about needing some alone time and was now trying to sneak them out of his own birthday party. As the pair rode home, Y/n couldn’t help but look at Drew as he stared ahead. She watched as his changing blue eyes flickered between the path in front of him and the many cars behind him, also driving in the early hours of the morning. 

     Though there were many signs, lights, and flashes that caught her mind’s attention, basically begging her eyes to look, she couldn’t help but only see Drew. This was her favorite kind of Drew. When he is totally unbothered. He was doing something so simple, something that he had been doing since he turned 15, now 27 it only seems right that he should be used to it. However, Y/n couldn’t help to notice how he put all his effort into it, eyes never once leaving the road, she liked to believe that it was his way of self consciously protecting her. And even though she thought she was going unnoticed, the young girl wasn’t the only one admiring from not so far. Drew was watching her too but through his peripheral. He loved that she was enchanted by everything he did. He liked knowing that he wasn’t the only one completely and hopelessly in love. 

No, we don't feel the need for colorful displays, 'cause it's not the kind of game we play, and why should we show the world how we feel, when it's not about them anyway

     Everyone was over at Madelyn’s apartment chilling and hanging out with one another. The blonde was stationed on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, with a live Instagram leaning on a few books. Y/n was sitting directly behind the girl, turned to the side with her legs pulled up to her chest. She had let Maddie use her phone, the 22-year-old being too lazy to walk to her room and get hers, so now she was just watching as Madelyn socialized with the fans. 

“Ow, shit.” 

     Y/n turned her head to see Drew sitting on the edge of the couch next to her holding his foot with a worried stare. The younger girl let out a small snort. “Did you hit your toe bub?” 

     Drew let out a whiny noise and Maddie proceeded to also let out a laugh, then reusing one of her famous lines, “Never heard anyone whine like that before.” Y/n gently pushed the girl’s shoulder, teasingly telling her to leave the big baby alone. She then returned her vision to the raging comment section. Her once big smile quickly fading to a frown.

I think its a PR stunt bc they don’t even act like a couple

Drew deserves someone who actually loves him...LIKE ME!

gUys she called him bUb! THATS SO CUTE (emoji)

Nah thats def apr stunt, more obvious than shawn and camila

I don’t eleven think i’ve seen them hold hands

     Madelyn and Y/n simultaneously rolled their eyes, the blonde looking up at her best friend gave her a look that spoke “you gonna tell em or me.”

     Y/n slid down from the couch and joined her friend on the floor, getting right in front of the camera. She looked up at her loving boyfriend who was on his phone also looking at the comments on the live. He glanced down towards Y/n and gave her a small smile, telling her to go for it. It wasn’t the first time they had seen comments like this and he knew it wouldn’t be the last but he also knew that she had been dying to rant about it. 

     “Alright, I’m gonna go ahead and say this one thing, and then I’m probably going to take some time off this app.” The young actress slowly took a deep breath and then began her rant. “ Alright, first of all, my relationship with ANYONE, is between me and that person. Just because I have friends, boyfriends or family, does not mean that I have to post them on this account. I understand that it’s hard to believe that 2 people can be happy and healthy unless they showcase it to the rest of the world, but it is in fact very possible. So for everyone who is questioning, my relationship,” the girl then grabbed Drew’s hand, pulling him down to her side of the couch until he was laying on his side behind her head. “This is Drew. My boyfriend. It’s not a publicity stunt, it’s not to get the show more popular, it’s real. Outer Banks is already the number one show on Netflix, so I don’t really think there would be a point to put 2 people in a fake relationship. And another thing, I don’t even have a fucking publicist, so I don’t really know where that came from.” 

     The young girl turned her head to meet Drew’s blue eyes, he looked at her with such satisfaction and amazement. He was proud of his younger girlfriend. For years Drew thought that he would never find someone who was anti-social media like him. He thought that he was just going to have to bare his relationships getting exploited all over the world. Drew was happy that he never had to worry about that with Y/n. 

     “I completely understand why it’s confusing and how you can question our relationship. But that doesn’t mean you can drag our relationship, and me particularly, down. You have no right to say the things you do about me, just because you think that the small, tiny, look into our lives means that I don’t love and care about Drew. Like, no offense, but that’s fucking insane. I’m tired of getting private messages about my weight, my clothes, my hair, my AGE. Don’t even get me started on the age difference. Half of the fan accounts on this app are run by 13-year-olds saying very inappropriate things about a 27-year-old grown-ass man. Like yall understand that’s illegal right. Like, get it through your head that those are fantasies and no matter HOW MANY TIMES you drag ME down, they will NEVER come true. My age isn’t anyone’s business, I’m over 18 so get over it.” Y/n then let out a loud sigh. “I need a damn drink.” 

     To this Drew laughed and kissed her on the cheek, while the other cast members started to whoop and holler while applauding the young girl’s words. They too were proud other, they knew of the struggles that she went through and they knew that most of the time she kept those feelings balled up. Madelyn then grabbed the phone and said her goodbyes to the live, then ending it. 

     The blonde then wrapped her arms around her best friend. “I’m so proud of you, babe. That was so badass.”  Madison saw the interaction from across the room and ran over to join them, adding herself to the hug. 

     “It was great, sissy. You really told them who’s boss.” That last comment made Y/n laugh out loud. She was so happy to have a supporting friend and cast group that made her feel loved. She couldn’t have asked for better friends. 

     “It was pretty hot too,” Drew smirked and pulled the young girl away from the group hug and grabbed her face, and gave her a long passionate kiss, something he rarely did in front of others. “I’m proud of you bubba.”

She couldn’t have asked for better friends. 

Or a better boyfriend. 

Don't need to see it to believe it, no need to wake me up, 'cause I'm not dreamin'

     The couple was laying in their bed just enjoying each other’s presence. Limbs all spread around but managing to stay intertwined. Sunlight was seeping into the white-painted room, brightening everything up, including the pair’s mood. Drew was leaning against the headboard very lazily, running his hands through Y/n’s hair,  who was sitting in his lap, thighs down beside his knees, with her head on his chest. Drew had woken up early and tried to get the younger girl out of bed, but she refused to do so. So he decided that he would just deal with it and let her drift back off to sleep, but with a twist.

     It humored the young actor that people thought they weren’t a cuddly and touchy couple. They were absolutely a touchy couple, they just didn’t enjoy being touchy in front of others, some people not being into that and they didn’t want to make anyone feel awkward. It was more a Drew thing. He was the one who suggested they not have a lot of PDA, and while Y/n was all for PDA, she would do anything for Drew to make him happy. At the beginning of their relationship, Y/n was insecure about Drew’s real feelings because he didn’t show much love through touch, but she eventually mentioned it to him. Ever since then he always made it a point to show more affection the second they were alone. Hints their situation now. 

     Drew watched as Y/n started to stir in her sleep. She started to whine and Drew felt her chest start to move a little faster. She was having another nightmare. 

     “Shhh, shhh. You’re ok, it’s ok,” the young man started to rub her back and hold her a little tighter. He wanted the nightmare to stop but he didn’t want to ruin her sleep. “It’s just a dream. You’re ok, bubba.” Drew closed his eyes and gave a small smile when he felt her calm down, turn her head the other direction and hold onto him a little tighter. Despite what the young girl believed, Drew loved the affection that she gave him. Being the oldest of 3 kids, the boy felt like he had to grow up fast and while he knew his parents loved them all equally, he got less of the affection. He had to grow up and become a little man, help his mom prepare dinner, he and logan had to help take care of Brooke and Mackayla. He just thought that he wasn’t a fan to touch, but when it came to Y/n’s touch he couldn’t get enough of it.  

     Drew closed his eyes and relaxed his body, trying to drift off to sleep himself.  He knew he wasn’t dreaming yet, but he never wanted to leave this dream state with her. Getting to love someone like her, was something Drew never even dreamed of but now he was thankful for that. Because no dream could have lived up to the life that he gets to live with the girl that he loves.

[slashingdisneypasta]

These Gotham guys asks are so fun!

What do u think are the hobbies from each of 'em? Besides plotting and destroying Gotham of course. Can u imagine how they're watchin TV, reading, caring for plants, playing cards, drawing, playing a instrument, baking, writing, etc.?

Glad you're enjoying them!! I'm always happy to talk about them!!

Butch Gilzean: Visiting the pet shop ^^ Haha. Especially if he gets to hold the pets! Any pets will work. Birds? Cats and dogs? Reptiles? He also spends an abnormal amount of time in the fish section. XD I can also see him playing cards, of course.

Headhunter: Cards, reading, following all the popular Netflix shows... He's very in the know about pop culture. Has all the social media, too. He and Vic also go out together every now and then for food and to go shopping XD Drawing, too, sometimes!

Jerome Valeska: Collecting! I dunno what he collects (Perhaps bobble heads?) but I can so see him scoring the internet for additions to his collection and stealing them from victims houses/cars (He just gets so excited when he sees one, even if he's in the middle of killing someone.) and he talks about them so animatedly ("HAT MAN WE NEED TO GO TO SYDNEY RIGHT NOW, THEY ONLY DO PICK UP!!") and no one is allowed to touch them but him. If you do, you die.

He likes to draw, too. He's not great at it, but that's not the point for him. He just likes to get out paper and crayons and get cracking- and he uses lots of red.

Mad Hatter: I can sorta see him liking to try new foods. Not, like, cooking it himself, but going out and visiting new restaurants and stuff. Fried ice cream? Egyptian cuisine? And you can bet he's visiting T2 (Or whatever the American equivalent is) anytime he can XD

Also reading, although he reads Alice In Wonderland over and over quite often.

Mr Freeze: I can see him writing ^^ I mean before Nora's death he would've wanted some kinda hobby he could do at home, close to her (And something he could share with her- she always loved to read his stuff ^^) so he started writing (I can so imagine him with an old fashioned type writer!). It took him a while after hr death to get back to it, but he eventually did Although his writing did become a lot darker.

Also video games!

Penguin: Omggggg, imagine him being really into some sport. Like he has a team and he follows it religiously (He wears a scarf with its colours and mascot with pride and he purchases a premo seat at the stadium that he always sits in when he attends games), and gets so angry when they lose and yells at the TV and- its perfect for angry Oz XD He's not a player by any means (He's disgusted at the thought) but he does appreciate the planning that goes into it. Also it just gets his blood boiling. Also I can just imagine Barb being into it too and they end up screaming at the TV screen viciously, and Tabby and Butch are just in the background being horrified and not understanding what all the fuss is about. I mean Butch keeps up with the sport stuff but he's not really into it; Its just so he can make chit chat with other gangster dudes.

Ed also walks in on this and just slowly backs out, hoping Oz didn't see him.

Its just perfect for Oz to take his frustrations out

Professor Pyg: Ohhhhh my. First of all, musicals. He loves them with his whole scummy heart. Second, he cooks obviously. Then also

G A M B L I N G.

Oh my god. He just loves to sit there playing poker with others and being his smug little self knowing he's gonna win (Or at least wigging out the others enough so it throws them off), humming show tunes.

Riddler: Puzzles obviously. But also he loves to explore new places! (Comes in handy when he has to set up some kinda treasure hunt)

Scarecrow: Okay Jon is hard haha XD Possibly farming? Cuz you know how much the Rogues like to go with their themes haha XD I don't think he's very good at it though and gets tired quick- But that's when he gets to go do the thing he really loves; SCIENCE EXPERIMENTS!! He's a mad scientist, so of course. Even just small little silly experiments like a model volcano or goo XD It'll cheer him up a tiiiiiiiiiny little bit.

Victor Zsasz: I can totally imagine Vic having some plants too XD He just really likes peaceful stuff ya know? And violent movies (+ Busting them on realism), he thinks they're hilarious XD Also BAKING.

[curls-and-crosses]

Curiosity.

(Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Black!fem reader)

Just over 2,000 words!

Prompt: The main idea is that you are trying to understand the real reason why ya boi Erik won't have sex with your fine ass. Intended for my thicc/chubby/plus sized black lady readers 😚💕.

A/N: In all honesty, I don't know why this scenario popped up in my head. It's questionable how you guys will receive it. If you guys don't like it, oh well! My mind works in weird ways🤷🏽‍♀️

Warning: slight angst, self-body shaming, cussing, teasing, and KINDA SMUT (it'll be my first time y'all, bare with me) 😬

____________________________________________________________________

You were fed up.

You had been dating Erik for a while and thought everything was great. He was rough around the edges, but overall he was a good boyfriend. Loyal, mostly sweet and playful. Maybe not husband material, but he was who you wanted in your life right now. Every aspect of your relationship was positive...except for one part.

You hadn't went all the way with him– sexually speaking.

You had amazing chemistry as a couple and you knew that sex with him would be mind-blowing.

You were supportive of people waiting until the right person or until marriage, but that wasn't you. You desired sex and with Erik. You were patient up until this point, but needed real answers. So you decided to ask him.

"Baby, I've been wondering..." You trailed off, chopping up some peppers for the meal you were preparing.

"Huh?" He answered, walking into the kitchen and going straight to your fridge for a drink.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that he only wore black sweatpants that hung at his hips to subtly show his v-line and the gold chain with his late father's ring hanging around his neck. His built torso and scars exposed to the cool air. They were something to get used to, although, they were interesting and felt strangely soothing when you two cuddled.

You'd never seen any type of keloid show up on someone's body simply due to killing someone. You had only heard of such thing labeled as tribal scarification in African History as a means to distinguish African warriors.

It alarmed you when Erik had told you on one of your first dates since you kept glancing at them. You should have ended the date there, but you went against your gut and carried on dating Erik.

It seemed to make an impression on him that you stuck around.

You opened your mouth to finish your question, but he stopped you before you could start.

"Hol' up." He said as he opened a Gatorade, taking a long sip.

Clearly, he had made himself at home at your place, leaving clothes and miscellaneous items around the apartment. It warmed your heart to know he was so comfortable with you, but that didn't explain why he wasn't comfortable having sex with you.

He finished his sip, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Okay, wassup?" He asked, placing his bottle back in the fridge.

"Why can't you–" You cut yourself off and sighed, suddenly getting discouraged.

"Nevermind...it's stupid. "

"Nah, what's wrong?" He pried, immediately coming up to hug you from behind.

"I just want to understand. Why won't you make love to me?" You questioned, cutting the vegetables slower. He took a deep breath and sighed, seeming hesitant to answer.

"Why you askin'? " He nuzzled your neck for reassurance, but it wasn't working.

You stopped prepping the food and put down the knife. You turned your soft body to completely face him. You could feel the back of your eyes starting to burn as tears welling up. Maybe he didn't want to be completely intimate because a part of you disgusted him. You weren't as slim like the Instagram models he probably follows.

"I'm not skinny. I don't wear 00 pants. I don't have a thigh gap. I don't have a 26 inch waist. I have fucking stretch marks and a belly. Is that why you won't have sex with me?" He responded by his right hand going down to your hip, softly gripping it in minor irritation.

He searched your face for sincerity and to his surprise, you were serious.

"Baby, listen. You're fuckin' gorgeous. Beyond beautiful, inside and out. Your beauty is one reason it's hard for me to stay away and keep my hands off you. Off this especially..." He trailed off, kissing the corner of your mouth as his left hand rubbed your backside before giving it a light smack.

"I always wanna feel you in some way. I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't want to see you bouncin' on my dick though."

You chuckled and felt at ease slightly, but you needed more of an answer.

"But WHY can't you act on those feelings? Answer that question for me." You asked, more firmly.

A scoff left his mouth just as fast as his touch. The air conditioning immediately made you miss his warm body as air breezed through your lavender silk robe.

"Why the fuck does it matter?" He mumbled before walking into your living room.

You heard him flop on the couch and turn up the volume on your television. He was done.

But the conversation wasn't over as far as you were concerned. How dare he dismiss you like what you had to say was unimportant. Fuck that. You needed to make sure he understood you.

You marched into the room and stood in front of him to snatch the remote from his grasp.

"Hey! I was watchin' that!" You turned the TV off and threw your remote in the opposite chair, across from the sofa.

Before anything else was said, Erik stood up. Glowering down at you. Challenging you while trying to silently understand what the hell was your problem.

"Y/N, what the hell wrong with you?!" He yelled, frustrated.

"You are what's wrong with me! You're not listening." You bit back, pointing at his chest and pushing his chest to make him flop back on the couch.

You didn't give a damn if he was mad. He would be alright.

"Just tell me why and I'll leave you alone." You pleaded angrily, crossing your arms under your silk covered chest.

That simple action caused Erik to glance at your breasts. The silk made them look more pronounced, fuller. Not to mention, your nipples were hard under the fabric.

You didn't really care, but you cared that Erik noticed it.

He only responded how any young man would...licking his lips like a hungry predator watching his unsuspecting prey.

He grinned slyly at you. Knowing the game you were playing.

"It's complicated. I wanna do so many things to you..." He admitted, sitting up straight on the couch.

"Nigga, isn't that a part of sex? I'm not seeing the problem." You sassed, rolling your eyes dramatically.

"It is, but the one thing I want to do to you is kinda wild."

"That's what I want. The sensible you. The wild you. I just want all of you." Your hands met the small ridged marks on his chest as you pushed him to sit back. You lifted your legs slowly, one by one, to straddle him.

"Please, Erik." You begged, adjusting your hips to settle on his fabric-covered dick. Your fingers went down to the hem of his sweats, playing with the white drawstring.

His chest rose and fell as his breathing quickened. His hands brushed your plush thighs before cupping each ass cheek of yours. You rocked your hips slowly as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. He returned the kiss and was eager to use tongue. You quickly allowed, earning a few groans from him as your kisses became heated.

After a few moments, he pulled away. You whimpered, wanting his tongue back in your mouth.

"I'm crazy as shit, Y/N. That's the reason." He breathily said as his dilated eyes met yours.

"So am I–"

"Not my type of crazy..." He ominously grinned before leaning in to leave soft-lipped pecks at your jaw. You smiled, entertained by the idea of what could be his crazy, unorthodox way of thinking. You were curious.

"Well, what is your crazy then?" You sensually questioned, going back to play with the drawstring of his sweats.

"So many damn questions..." He chuckled darkly and gripped you tighter. His hands slowly dug into your supple ass, pushing you into him more. More onto his hard-on.

He wanted to keep you right there.

You moaned in response to the increasing pain and without much thought, wound your hips for friction. Your arms went around his neck for support and he shifted his hips to satisfy your growing need.

"Do you get strange urges like I do?" His deeper, lust-coated voice took you by surprise. You felt yourself becoming wet at his tone and opened your mouth to answer, but bit your lip instead to keep quiet as he spoke.

"Like right now, I want you tremblin' under me, my hand 'round your throat, squeezing just enough as I fuck you senseless." He proclaimed, your bottom lip coming between his teeth as he lightly tugged before letting go.

"Maybe I'll get another scar this time." A mischievous gaze met your curious eyes. Scars?

"Erik...I thought you only got those scars if- if-"

"You think all these scars are from just killin' people? Oh babygirl, some of these are from killin' pussy too."

A rush of heat surged through you, making you feel weak and strong all at once. Those words. His words did something and ignited a fiery passion within you.

"Well, do it then..." You provoked as you bucked your hips once more. He took that as a command and hooked his hands under your legs, lifting you off of him to playfully throw you onto your couch.

You sunk into the soft cushions and adjusted so your head was on the armrest, your body now across the sofa. A devious smile crept onto your face as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. After all this time, your man was going to beat your pussy up.

Finally.

"You got me losing my got-damn mind over you."

He turned to climb over top of you to open your legs up and come in-between them. He undid the ribbon of your robe and pulled back the fabric, revealing your unclad chest. Your nipples hard from the palpable sexual tension and exposed air. The only undergarment you had on was your matching silk panties.

Those would soon be gone.

Erik scanned over your body, taking in every bump, curve and stretch mark. He loved every inch of you.

"So beautiful..damn.." he whispered, more so to himself.

It was like he didn't know where to start. His mind most likely running frantic, almost like a child figuring out a new, complex toy.

You looked at him the same. Your smooth hands massaged his forearms, feeling the peaked scars. It was a perfect contrast, much like you and him.

"I don't think ya ass prepared for what I'm 'bout to give you." He cockily spoke before kissing your lower abdomen. His thumb fell to your clothed clit to check how wet you were for him, making you groan in anticipation.

He leaned down to your belly button, tracing the ring of your belly button with his tongue before dipping into it once. You closed your eyes in bliss at the fascinating feeling. He thumbed your clit again, causing you to tense up in pleasure. Instinctively, your legs began to close around him, but he grasped your thick thighs.

"Keep ya fuckin' legs open." His voice rang through your ears in a growled demand.

"Yes, d–" Your breath hitched as his cool lips trailed up your waist to the valley of your breasts. You closed your eyes and melted under his touch, his fingers hooking the waistband of your underwear. You lifted your hips for him to yank down your panties, throwing them somewhere on the floor.

Fondling your breasts, you pinched your bottom lip in the middle of your teeth as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. You needed him.

He mentally absorbed the sight of you. It only inflated his ever-growing ego as his deviant grin showing two gold canines gleamed back at you.

"Allat behavior. Ain't nobody teach you no decency?" He teased as he scooted down, getting better access to your now aching core. You shook your head 'no' at his question.

"Well that's too bad. I'mma have to teach you how to behave..." He tsked. You couldn't react as he wasted no time taking you in his mouth, not giving a fuck if you were ready or not.

-------------------------

And I oop 👀...

(Send me requests too via my asks!) -> if you want

[j--meat-hook--j]

A Trip to the Mainland (Taiyuu cooking event) (?)

@taiyuu-high-oct

A Train from Taiyuu Island to Mainland Japan took a couple hours, hours of ocean, boredom and more ocean. Staring at the TV, Zeke remembered a time before Taiyuu, before Japan even. 

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A small town on the coast of Germany, a large building, a small apartment. 

A teenager enters, around 17 years old, wiping his feet and looking around, the clock reads 8pm. He spotted his younger brother in the living “room” by himself watching cartoons. The younger one couldn’t be older than 9. 

“Hey, kiddo. Where’s Mum?” 

“She got called into work.”

Frustrated in his mother’s irresponsibility and lack of note, the older brother tried to keep the conversation going as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Watchin TV.”

“Oh, so you found the remote?” “No.” Flick. The channel changed. 

Opening the pantry the older brother found… half a loaf of bread and a whole lot of empty space.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“No. Mum was gonna get groceries but she got called into work.”

Biting his fist in frustration, the older brother pounded the pantry door with his head. Silently seething in anger the older brother put on a happy face, the older brother came out and sat next to the younger brother. 

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight, just you and me.” “Won’t Mum and Dad get angry?” “They’ll never know, I got a little extra money from work today.”

“I mean… sure.”

“Alright, get your stuff ready and we’ll leave in a few.” The older brother wrote a note for their Mother, if she returned home tonight. 

When the two got ready and were almost out the door, the younger brother stopped.

“Umm... Schlaut?”

“What’s up Zeke?”

“Are you sure Mum and Dad won’t find out?”

“Hey, we’ll leave our trash in a public bin, they’ll never know.”

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Finally on the Mainland of Japan Zeke had a couple trips to make. 

The first stop for today was to withdraw money, but look like a cool guy, Sunglasses on. Wandering around the Whatever City, Zeke can’t remember what it’s called, he started to get his bearings. 

‘Alright, grocery shop’s there, post office’s there and-’

Zeke felt a rumble down to his core.

‘It’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight.’

Finally finding an ATM in Whatever City, that took forever. Taking his “Credit” Card out Zeke approached the ATM, noone was nearby anyway but he still felt he had to play the part. 

Feeling the ATM Zeke felt all the different compartments, searching for the most used 4, Zeke found what he needed.

Trying the first one: Whirr, Zzzt And Dispense. 1000 Yen, not quite what he needed. 

Next compartment: Whirr, Zzzt and Dispense. 5000 Yen, close but not the notes he needed. 

The Third compartment: Whirr, Zzzt and Dispense. 10,000, exactly what Zeke needed. 

Grabbing an extra 13 10k Yen bills Zeke had enough to pay for his tuition, with some left over. 

That wasn’t right, only take what you need. Zeke remembered when this all became second nature to him, why quickly searching these machines became so easy. 

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“That’d be 50 Euros sir.” A cashier lady, in a large mall grocery store. 

“I’m really sorry, can you wave it just this once?” Schlaut, now at the age of 19, pleaded to the cashier holding a 20 Euro note. 

“I’m sorry sir, if you couldn’t afford it you shouldn’t have picked it up.” 

“But this is all we have for the week, we’ll go hungry without this food.” Schlaut 

“Then get 20 Euros worth of food or get out of the store.”

“Fine. C’mon Zeke we’re outta here.” Zeke, now 11 years old, followed his brother out of the store.

“What’s the plan now Schlaut?”

“I dunno kiddo, we’ll figure something out.”

It wasn’t long into the usual walk home when they walked past an ATM, it’s screen illuminating the sidewalk. The screen flickered strange colours, reds, blues even a neon green. Schlaut paused, did a slow turn on his feet and paced to the ATM. 

“Zeke?” “Yeah Schlaut?”

“Are you doing that?”

Zeke’s stiffened and he turned his face away from his brother. 

“Zeke look at me.”

Zeke reluctantly looked at his Older Brother, the pupils of his brown eyes glowing a slight blue. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Zeke was looking at the ground in shame.

“No no no no nononono nono, no Zeke. You did something very, very right.” Schlaut hadn’t felt this excited in a while. 

“Let’s play a game Zeke, see if you can find some paper in this machine.” Schlaut pointed to the ATM. 

“You mean money, isn’t that stealing?” Zeke was willing to do this, but he wasn’t very happy about it.

“Hey, we’re only going to take what we need ok? No more. We’re not villains, we’re survivors. See if you can find a 20 note and a 10 note.” Zeke had found a way to save us!

“Ok. I’ll try.” 

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Returning back to the present Zeke held about 2000 Yen too much in his hands. The fridge at Taiyuu was running low, this money seems appropriate for everyone to use. 

Zeke went to that small grocery store he passed by earlier. Fresh fruits and vegetables, that’s what Taiyuu needed, none of that instant shit. Apples, carrots, broccoli and one pack of the cheapest Cup Noodles he could find. 

‘How would the others at Taiyuu react? I don’t think Sako or Spellman would be particularly fond of me anymore. Ah well, they won’t find out. All the years of pulling this same stunt we were only found out once.’

Zeke paid a total of 1962 yen.

“Have a good day.”

“Yeah, you too.”

‘Only found out once.’

Supermarket (Schlauts Quirk)

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“How’s that Zeke, just enough to get us through this week. Mum should have  the day off tomorrow so we’ll cook a whole bunch then.” Schlaut, now 21, said to his brother Zeke, now 13.  

“Yeah, maybe Dad’d have time to help as well.” 

“I doubt it kiddo.”

RUUUUUUMMMBBBBBLEEE

“We should get going before it rains, seems like a storm is brewing. 

Off they were on the usual walk home, Through an empty courtyard, groceries in hand. Not too much, just enough to get by. 

“Hey Asshole!”

Schlaut turned, almost like he was expecting this.

“Yes, Gregory?” 

A potbellied man, more of a sphere than a man, called out to the two. 

“You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.”

“Us?” Zeke panicked.

“There’s about 4 of them, stay behind me Zeke.”

“What, who are you talking about, how do you know these people?”

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

3 other men came up from behind the Sphere Man. One looked too long to be normal, another looked like a leaf man, the last one had spines coming out of his back. 

“Yeah, not so tough are ya now there’s more of us.” Sphere man said, he sounded like he was from New York, which is weird because this is Germany. 

“Huh, Good one boss.” The Leaf Man said, he had a very deep voice.

“Yeah, good one boss.” The Spine Man said, he had a very snively voice.

“Hehehe, heheh hehehe hehehe” The Long Man said, he had a very creepy laugh.

“You made it easier for me.” Schlaut butted in, sounding far too confident for a 4 on 1 fight. 

RUUUUMMMMMMMBLLLLLLEEEEE

Long Man reached over and punched Sphere Man in the face. 

“Aaaah, Tony, whaddya doin? Hit him not me!” Sphere Man was both confused and angry

“Heheheh, heheh, Hehehehhe!” The Long Man’s laugh seemed very panicked and confused. 

Leaf Man punched Spine Man, Spine Man grabbed Long Man. It was a free for all, none of the assorted goons and henchmen ever came near Schlaut and Zeke, Zeke leaned over Schlauts shoulder.

“What are they doing Schlaut? Why are they here?” Schlaut looked back at his younger brother. “Don’t worry, Zeke, they’re taking care of it themselves.” Schlaut looked at Zeke for a moment, just one moment was all it took for Zeke to notice the slight red glow from his brother's pupils. 

It wasn’t too long before the four strangers were all on the ground unconscious. Not once did the 4 even take a step towards the Funkee brothers. 

“Let’s go Zeke, it’s all taken care of.” “But… but-” “Let’s GO Zeke.” 

RUUUUMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLEEEEE

They turned to continue on their way home, when Zeke heard skidding. No. Rolling? Turning around in curiosity Zeke saw Sphere Man rolling towards them, like a ball. A very angry ball. 

“Schlaut, look out!” Zeke jumped, panicked and….

FLASH

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

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Not done for the day yet, still gotta send a letter off to Mum back in Germany, quick visit to the Posty and back to Taiyuu. Card, letter, shipping. Totaling 300 yen, that is cheap! 

Hey Mum,

Taiyous Taiyuus going great, i think im really hitting it off with everybody here. This place seems more my style than uA anyway. Theres a whole bunch of really weird people here. One person can  even shapeshit shapeshift!

Anyway hows things with you, hows the new job in France? 

Has Schlaut come back yet?

Love, 

Zeke

“Just one letter, wouldn’t a text be better?” The teller was confused.

“It’s just a little tradition we have. Notes and written things are easier to keep anyway.”

Zeke made his way back to Taiyuu, hours on the train, again. The news reports were going on about a villain by the name “The King”. Luckily Taiyuu covered the costs of going back to Mainland Japan. Making his way back to the kitchen area Zeke deposited the fruits and veggies into the communal fridge. However, Zeke kept the Noodle Cup.

Zeke set the kettle to boil and thought of the day everything changed, the day Schlaut left. There was no bang, there was no warning. Around when Zeke was 13 Schlaut just, poof, gone. The whole family thought he was dead for months until Zeke’s 14th birthday, where Zeke got an RC car, brand new and very high end. It came with a note.

Hey Kiddo, Happy Birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there this year

Noone ever really bothered Zeke again, of course Zeke still had his friends but noone bullied, assaulted or even annoyed him again. The icecream place even gave him a discount. Teachers were a whole lot nicer, even recommending him to hero courses like UA: LA, Shiketsu and Seijin. That was 2 years ago. 

The screech of the kettle brought Zeke out of his thoughts. Filling his Cup Noodles with boiling water Zeke had made a shitty meal at Taiyuu.

BOOOOOOOMMMMMM

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot.”

Maybe not.

[oozmart]

Dance Till You Die

I wrote a oneshot fic for my OC Dahlia.  Hope yall enjoy it :)

Dahlia leaned over the order window of the food truck.  No customers, finally.  The dinner rush hit and now everyone was out enjoying the music, dancing, laughing, having fun.  

“You see that?” Drayton asked.

Dahlia didn’t even blink, she knew what he was about to say, “They’re all out there workin up a sweat and an appetite, they’ll be back for seconds in no time!”  She rolled her eyes.  Drayton was all work, no play.  He didn’t understand, he’d never had real fun before.  He was busy taking care of his brother’s, his family.  Dahlia respected him for being a devoted family man, but she never liked his bossy attitude.  

Dahlia was a rebellious teen, akin to that guy from Footloose.  That was one of her favorite movies.  Any movie that had dancing was her favorite movie.  She wanted to go out and dance with the crowd more than anything.  One night of fun.  All play, no work.  

“I know what you’re thinkin, lil missy…” Drayton accused, wagging a finger at her, “You’re gonna stay right here and help me prep for the after-dinner rush.”

“There’s no such thing as an after-dinner rush.”  Dahlia retorted, not moving from her spot.

Drayton groaned.  She was stubborn, that was one of her worst qualities, but she was the only one who could come help him with the food truck when it got busy at events like this.  These outdoor concerts are some of their most successful sale days.  This was for two reasons: For one, they sold a lot of sandwiches.  For two, a lot of people from out of town would come to see these bands play, which meant more prime meat for the Sawyer’s to catch.  

“Come on now,” Drayton began, “everyone’s workin today.  Bubba and Chop are out there waiting for meat, and you’re here helping me sell it.”  He couldn’t see her face, but he knew her eyes were rolling.  

Dahlia turned quickly, leaning back on the counter, “What if I just went out and danced a couple of songs?”

“NO!”

“AW, COME ON!!!  I never get to go have fun!!!”  She whined.  

Drayton stayed quiet, he wouldn’t hear anymore of this nonsense.

Dahlia creeped up behind him.  “One song?” She asked with a pouty face and a gentle tone.  He didn’t budge.  She had to appeal to his business side to win this battle.  “How about this,” she bargained, “I go out and dance with some people, and I tell them ALL ABOUT Drayton Sawyer’s AWARD WINNIN’ chili?  Hmm?”  

She grabbed his hand and pretended to dance with him.  He stood still and furrowed his brow.  This child was bizarre.  “This music is GRROVY!” She acted out the scenario, “Sure does make me hungry…” She squeezed his hand, “I got an idea!  Why don’t we go get some chili from that there truck?  Ya, that one!”  She sniffs the are, “MM, I can smell that choice meat from here!”  

Drayton was the one rolling his eyes now.  He had to admit, this wasn’t a horrible idea.  “Fine,” he caved, much to Dahlia’s delight, “you dance a couple songs and round up some customers.  If you don’t come back with a line of people you’re gonna be on dishwashin’ duty for a month for slackin off!”

Dahlia beamed, “THANK YOU!!!!”  Still holding his hand, she pulled her older-brother-figure in for a hug.  Drayton was not a touchy person.  He shoved her off and brushed off his suit.  He mumbled something under his breath, probably about the plight of small business owners, but Dahlia was already out the door and down the steps.  

She hopped outta the truck and ran out to the dance floor, a square of dirt surrounded by 4 beams suspending fairy lights and American flags.  She was wearing her old cowboy boots, high-waisted bell bottom jeans, and a crimson red blousy tank top.  She was so excited she thought she’d just explode.  The music was blasting from a small DJ on the North side of the dancing area, from its speakers played Elvis Presley’s classic, “Jailhouse Rock.”  Dahlia didn’t care that she didn’t know anyone out there, once the music hit her ears she lost herself to the sound.

Nearby on a hill, looking down at the festivities, Chop Top and Bubba sat in the back of he truck.  During big events like this, they’d keep an eye out for anyone leaving alone or drunk and if they looked like a good target they’d take’em out.  While exciting in theory it was a lot of waiting around.  They’d already been sitting around for over an hour and no good targets left the festivities.  People probably wouldn’t be leaving till well after midnight.  

“This blows,” Chop Top complained to his mostly silent brother, Bubba, “we should be home listenin to that radio lady and havin ourselves a well-earned break!”  Bubba nodded as his older brother yammered on about how bored he was, until something down below caught his attention.  He quickly shook his brother’s arm and pointed down to the dancing square.

Chop Top squinted, “What?  Someone finally leavin?”  Bubba shook his head and kept pointing to a specific person.  “WAIT A MINUTE?  IS THAT…..?”  Bubba nodded excitedly, as he got his point across.  “DAHLIA GETS TO HAVE FUN AND WE DON’T??!?!?!!”  Chop Top whined.  Bubba shrugged, he thought seeing his girl out there would cheer him up, but it only seemed to rile him up more.

Dahlia danced like her life depended on it.  Between songs, some people applauded her, she didn’t think anything of it.  She was in the zone.  

“Howdy,” a tall, burly man approached her, tipping his cowboy hat, “you’re a mighty fine dancer!”  His compliment made her smile.  She thanked him, and before she knew it, he was offering his hand and they were dancing together.

With his purple rounded glasses atop his head, Chop Top looked through a pair of army binoculars he kept in the truck, stunned at the sight of his own lover taking the hand of someone, a stranger!  “What game you playin…?” He muttered to himself.  He looked the cowboy up and down through the lenses.  He was probably about his height, but much heftier in the arms.  Strong.  Chop Top gave a small huff as he put down the binoculars.  Bubba picked them up and began to watch the dancers with curiosity.

An old fashioned square dance began, and Dahlia and the stranger partnered up.  He spun her around and picked her up by the hips above his head, she squealed with excitement when her feet left the ground.  When the dance ended, his hands lingered on her waist.  She suddenly remembered the promise she made to Drayton, “Oh!  You know what we should do right about now?”

“Oh, I know what we should do… Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her away into the darkness.  Bubba gasped, and urged his brother to look through them himself.  Chop Top didn’t budge, still upset about the sour night he’d been having.  

Bubba acted quick and hopped out of the bed of the truck and into the driver’s seat.  He didn’t drive often, but he knew how.  To Chop Top’s surprise, the vehicle started moving.  He rolled around in the bed before climbing through the back window to shout at his baby brother, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!!??!”   Bubba let him yell, he didn’t care right now.  He had to go save Dahlia.  She always looked out for him so he had to do the same for her.

They twisted and turned through dirt roads until they stopped to a grinding halt, down behind some trees near the festival.  Bubba frantically turned off the lights and hopped out of the car to get his chainsaw.  Chop Top was on his heels going off still, “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOIN DO YOU?!?!?!  THIS AIN’T THE WAY SHIT WORKS!!!!”

Bubba saw by the line of porto-potties, the stranger pulling Dahlia behind him.  Bubba quickly shushed Chop Top and pointed.  When CT turned his head his face flushed at the sight.  The stranger’s hands were on her waist, he was trying to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

“Whats back here?”  Dahlia asked, cluelessly.  She got an unfortunate sniff of the air and reacted, “BLEH, it smells like shit.”  The man began to lean down to kiss her, but she leaned back and turned her cheek, causing his lips to land in the wrong place.  

He chuckled playfully, “Aw, come on, lil mama… The way you were dancin had to mean something.”  Chop Top’s blood boiled when he heard his nickname for her crawl out of someone else’s mouth.  That was his lil mama.  

Dahlia was offended on his behalf as well.  Someone else calling her by that pet name felt dirty. “It meant I like dancing.” She snapped, “If I wanted something I would have asked.”  She took his hands off her hips, but he held on to her hands.  “Please…” she tried to pull away, but he insistently held on.

“You sure?  Dancin gets tiring, don’t it?”  He was determined to get her to say yes.  In his experience, pressure usually wore women down.

Dahlia attempted to promote the business again, as a means to avoid any physical conflict, “Uhh, i’m hungry! Aren’t you?  We could talk about this over a bite of homemade, award-winning chili?  And Drayton Sawyer makes it the best!”  

The man scoffed at the idea.  “That Sawyer guy?  He’s a hack.  Nothin homemade about that shit.  I hear its all canned and processed.”  

Dahlia wasn’t Drayton’s biggest fan, but she respected him and loved him.  He was family, and they protected each other.  With that she was done with this fool.  She raised her knee to his crotch with a hearty thrust and he went down without a fight.  

Chop Top saw the man go down and took this opportunity to burst from the forest and swing his hammer at the fucker’s head.  “YEEHAW!” he shouted as he went ham.  The music was so loud, and the shadows of the porto-potties kept them hidden from any passerby’s sight.  Bubba didn’t dare rev up his chainsaw in though.  He still kept it on him as he ran to Dahlia’s aid.  

She was stupefied by their sudden arrival, “What are you boys doin down here?  Yall are supposed to be watchin for meat.”  She put her hands on her hips.  

“WE’RE SAVING YOU, BABES” Chop Top announced proudly with another swing of his hammer to the man.  His body spasmed as blood poured from the cracks in his skull.  This was normal for the Sawyer boys and Dahlia to see, it didn’t faze any of them.  Rather she rolled her eyes, “I saved myself just fine, thank you very much.  

“Its the 80’s for god’s sake I dont need a man to save me.”  She crossed her arms and shook her head.  She felt a weight on her head.  Looking up she saw Bubba leaning his head on her as gently as he could.  He was so much taller than her it was an awkward position.  Whenever they’d sit around at home he’d lean on her like this, so he thought it would be a comfort for both of them in this moment.  

Dahlia could never stay mad at baby Bubba.  He was like a little brother to her.  She put a hand on his cheek and patted, “I do appreciate you both comin though.  Now Drayton can’t be mad at me cause I helped catch some food.”

Bubba blushed under his leather face and proceeded to take care of business.  He bent down and picked up the legs of the now dead man, whoever he was, and dragged him back to the truck.  Chop Top stayed back with Dahlia, “Ooh, I bet he’s pissed right now!  Why’d  you ditch him?  Dangerous to play hooky on his watch.”  He slouched over slightly and scrunched up his face, “You idiots are always slackin off leavin me to slave over a hot stove!  I gotta do ALL the work ‘round here!!!” he imitated his older brother perfectly.  

Dahlia laughed, she always loved his silly impersonations.  He was good at them.  “Well I didn’t ditch him,” she explained, “he said I could go dance so long as I brought in some customers.”  She paused and shrugged, thinking about it, “Don’t know if I did that, but I guess did something.”  She suddenly realized she’d have to go back to the truck for that fake after-dinner rush thing Drayton kept going on about.  He was going to be upset for sure.  “I better get back before he makes me wash dishes for the rest of my life.”  

As she began to leave, Chop Top snatched her hand. “Uh, i- if you had to do dishes for a year…”. He felt a nervous itch on his scalp and pulled his wire hanger out of his vest and began scratching under his wig, “I- I- i’d help you every day.”  He pulled the hanger out, but before he could nibble at the skin bits he scraped, Dahlia picked at the end of it and stole them, eating them herself.  Chop Top was turned on, but kept it low-key by just giving her a toothy grin.  She winked at him with a cheeky smile.  She knew how she made him feel.  She squeezed his hand before letting go, and proceeded back to the food truck.

Chop’s hand slowly came down to his side as he watched her walk away.  He wanted her to come back.  He wanted to kiss her.  Sure, he could do it later when they got home, but he wanted to do it now out in the open while his heart was beating with excitement and adrenaline was pumping through his veins.  He wanted to grab her by the arms and kiss her with a fiery passion.  Alas, she was already far out of sight.

His thoughts were interrupted by the grunts of his brother from the truck.  He leaned his head back in frustration before joining him to hoist the heavy body up into the bed of the truck.  “Bubba what have I always told ya?!?!?  Dont lift by yourself you’re gonna throw out your back!!!”

Back at the truck, Dahlia paused in surprise.  A line of people!  She didn’t see that coming.  She quickened her pace and ran up the steps of the truck.  Drayton didn’t look away from his work at the grill, “THERE YOU ARE!  I think you got enough customers for the night, good job.”  

Dahlia blinked.  “Good job.”  It didn’t seem like much, but from Drayton that was a lot.  She felt a tinge of pride in her chest and a smile crept onto her face that she couldn’t hold back.  

“Well?  What are you standing there for?!?!  GET BACK TO WORK!!!”  

[hopevalley]

I just want to thank you for keeping this public. I have promoted you on Twitter and will continue to do so. I want to help in any way I can.

I debated all morning on how to reply to this. I know this is reference to Melinda making her blog private for Tumblr users only, and I think it’s important for me to express my opinion on that situation.

But first: thank you for the Twitter promotion! I have a Twitter account, but I admit I rarely use it (because I find it confusing to use lol). It’s @july_skies !

Regarding Melinda’s decision to privatize her blog: I support it. She works hard on her content and deserves to feel that people who like it will be capable of supporting it in a direct way (reblogs specifically). Nothing sucks more than making stuff and seeing that nobody’s looking at it or enjoying it, and whether or not that’s what it seems like to (general) you, that’s how it comes across when people don’t reblog her stuff. It’s depressing. It’s like she’s throwing her hard work right into the void.

While I’m on the subject, I’d like to talk about content creation a little more, to help give you guys a better idea of fandom and your place as a consumer of fanworks; I know a lot of you might be new to the concept, and you can’t know if nobody thinks to tell you.

For my “credentials,” let’s just say I’ve been a content creator for more than half my life and there’s something we lifers call fandom participation or fandom engagement. They are more or less the same thing, and the terminology boils down to us answering this question: “How is the fandom at large engaging with our content?”

In the last handful of years, participation is down across the board. When I first got into writing fanfiction I’d get at least 40 comments on anything I wrote. Many of my works ended up with 60+ comments on them! 

Now I’m lucky if anyone comments at all, especially in this fandom. Again, it’s a problem everywhere, but I still get comments on fanfic I posted five years ago in other fandoms; meanwhile, this one remains relatively silent. 

I post on AO3 for two big reasons. 1) ACCESSIBILITY. AO3′s site layout is easy to read! It’s easy to format! It’s friendly to people with issues seeing small print! And then we have 2) I do it to give people the option of commenting anonymously (in case they’re shy or nervous).

Having an account there isn’t required at all. People just choose not to engage with me when I post fanfiction.

It feels bad to spend hours of your time on something only to see 0 notes/comments/likes/reblogs/whatever on it later. Four ‘likes’ doesn’t feel that good either. Did people actually like it? Are they pity-likes? Do they even care? People mindlessly ‘like’ a lot of things; maybe they did that with your content, too. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy seeing ‘likes’ but a ‘like’ is more or less an acknowledgement that they’ve seen the content, not that they enjoyed it or want more of it.

Also, likes/kudos don’t draw in more readers: comments do. When a reader’s scrolling down the front page of their favorite AO3 fandom, they click on the ‘fics that look like they might be ‘good’ and even though it’s not always TRUE that the ‘best’ stories have the most comments, a lot of readers filter by the number of comments! 

Comments tell other readers: this is worth checking out!

Let’s look at a quick example of one of my ‘fics:

This is from my AO3 account, a random WCtH fanfic. It’s not a long one, but it’s not short either. It’s a reasonable read in terms of time spent to read it, and as you can see 185 people clicked on it, 14 people ‘liked’ it (kudos are “likes”), and I have two comments: one of those comments is @trash-god and the other is me replying to her comment.

Her comment isn’t ‘less than’ because she’s a close friend, but she and I spoke at length about this story on Discord and her comment was just a nice little ‘addition’ to that conversation. Sure, the story’s about characters not many people care about, but look at that: 185 hits on the story. 14 likes. And only one person who read it took five seconds to leave a comment? Really? What about the 13 other people who ‘liked’ it?

What this says to me as a creator is that the ONLY person who is going to comment is the one person who might feel obligated to, and if that’s the case, why don’t I just save my stories to show her privately? Why bother posting them out into the void to hear nothing but silence from everyone else?

This is the direction that @whencallstheheart is coming from. What’s the point of spending hours creating these things when nobody interacts with you? Posting to silence feels bad. And look, to put it into perspective, editing gifs to post, writing fanfic, doing write-ups, maintenance of a blog, site, or social media presence: it’s super time-consuming. 

Melinda and I both work full-time jobs as it is. My job hit full busy season and I’m even getting overtime now. I’m in training to take over the department next year and I’m tired at the end of the day. When I get home I have eight cats, a house to take care of, and a spouse, not to mention my in-laws live right next door and need help sometimes. We also have a property we just planted 1500 trees on by hand that we have to monitor, and my husband owns a house we rent to someone that needs work done on it, too. Sometimes, life is busy.

And don’t get me wrong! I enjoy creating, just like I’m sure Melinda does. I feel awful if I can’t “create.”

But if my choices are:

work for five hours on a fanfic or episode write-up only to get 4 likes on it, OR

play a video game or watch a movie or read a book or sit on the deck watchin’ the sun go down while I work on a crocheting project…

The latter definitely appeals to me more knowing I have to get up in the morning to go back to work again. My time is worth something. Neither Melinda nor I are getting paid to create this content. We put it together for free, in what spare time we have, in the midst of our own chaotic lives. My website costs me a chunk of money every year to keep up and running ad-free, and I could get all 1500 trees weeded in the amount of time it takes me to put together an episode write-up or decent fanfic.

All content creators ask for in exchange for their free labor is a sense of community, and that can be anything from:

comments on fanfics you enjoyed, even if they are just to say, “I read this and enjoyed it.” 

messages that say, “I really like how [this edit you did] turned out.”

reblogs on Tumblr, retweets on Twitter, emails to website owners

you can even create your own blog and use it to begin conversations with those creators!

You guys have been pretty good about engaging with the show itself through us, but don’t forget to engage with the content you enjoy seeing that comes about because of the show. 

Fandom content keeps the show alive even when it’s not currently airing, and supporting content creators keeps them creating. Everyone wins, then!

To talk specifically about written content...

Readers are the ones who ensure more material is created. Hands down.

And again: I love writing!! I DO. I’ve been writing seriously for more years of my life than I haven’t been writing seriously! But it’s disheartening to post a fanfic and get my one obligation comment.

Now, it’s fine if you don’t read fanfiction or even enjoy it. It’s also fine if the things I’ve posted aren’t to your specific tastes. Trust me, I get it; nobody is obligated to comment on my fanfiction, and I don’t want anyone to feel that they should be.

But please know this: if you do enjoy something, whether it’s fanfic or edits or something else, you NEED to engage with it, or it WILL disappear. People don’t like talking to walls. It’s frustrating and it isn’t a good use of their time.

(This is one of the reasons I haven’t bothered doing a novelization of the series. It could be fun, but for 0 comments it’s not worth spending the time on.)

Again, you guys have been great when it comes to engaging with the show material, particularly while the show is airing. It’s been fun speculating with you and hearing all of your different thoughts. I know sometimes Tumblr doesn’t make it easy to communicate, either, and you’ve all done a great job of getting around that.

But in between seasons things get slow on this blog and it’s hard for me (or anyone running a blog) to feel motivated to provide content of any sort if you’re not going to take the time to engage in it.

I’ll never mark this blog as private, but if I get to the point where I can’t get any engagement from the fans, I’ll shut it down. The point of having a “fandom blog” is to interact with other fans.

I enjoy providing content to you guys, but if participation drops off to nothing, I’ll be taking that as my signal that the audience is gone and my time would be better spent elsewhere. 

So if you’re here and you’re enjoying things, don’t forget to take a little time out of your day to let your content creators know! Not just me and Melinda, of course, but your favorite people on Instagram, Twitter, and other sites as well. ♥ You might be surprised how happy they’ll be to receive interaction from other fans.

And another plug for fanfiction, because 1) they always get the short end of things considering how hard it is to amass the creative energy necessary to tell a good story, and 2) I noticed it’s the #2 page on my website getting visited: if you’ve enjoyed anything you’ve read for When Calls the Heart, tell the author! Here’s the section for WCtH on AO3! Is English not your native language/you’re not confident in your ability to write English? No worries! I’ve gotten many thoughtful comments in other languages and from people who spoke limited English, and trust me: I treasured every one. If you’re just not sure how to comment on fanfic, send me a message and I’ll give you some tips!

I don’t intend this as a slight against my anonymous friend up there AT ALL; I think it can be hard to be in fandom, especially if you’re newer to the scene. There’s a lot of history that’s long gone by now and missing out on it means it’s harder to step into fandom without also accidentally stepping on toes.

Sometimes we take for granted that we have an almost unlimited supply of fanfiction, gifs, memes, blogs, and so on at our disposal. But none of that comes from thin air and it never did. It’s the cumulative hard work of millions of people throwing their hearts and souls into something they’re passionate about in an effort to engage with other fans.

I hope this helped put things into perspective a bit!! Sending love at all of you that stuck around this far; I know it was quite a bit of a ramble LOL!

[gaygwenpool]

give me literally All Headcanon for that post for Mysterio p l e a s e (also, for the one of my choosing, whether or not you hc he commentates movies while watching them or insists on ABSOLUTE SILENCE)

:D!!! my sweet boy, BLESS you nonnie! 

◉ whether or not you hc he commentates movies while watching them or insists on ABSOLUTE SILENCE IS A FANTASTIC QUESTION IVE BEEN LITERALLY LAUGHIN ABOUT IT ALL DAY THANK YOU

   Both actually! if you try to comment on the plot or react to an actor, immediately you get rudely shushed with the most scorching glare because how DARE you, focus on the ~ART~ you heathen!!! but also the Moment a slightly more advanced special effect takes place, he is all hoppin on his seat excitedly explaining how it’s done and how genius that is, how would he improve on it and how another movie dealt with it, the dialogue for the big plot reveal goin on the screen be damned :’D Also as the movie advances, he starts gettin more and more into long passionate rants either complaining about the lack/surfeit of respect the creators got, how arrogant this one actor is and how he doesnt respect his cues and so on….. lots of the stuff he says is actually pretty interesting but yeah, if you counted on just enjoying the movie, tough luck 

   He really likes watchin movies with people but prefers to see the movie first on his own at least once, to really focus on it. Often, he will watch a movie in the livin room while others do their own thing and he will comment on the good scenes, however if you agreed to actually watch somethin with him and got distracted during screening or worse, was on your phone?? you are dead to him. (and you can expect some …unpleasant surprises in the upcoming days)   

im gonna put the rest under the readmore cuz this is gettin long ^^;;

[ask meme]

☾ - sleep headcanon

Beck is the UGLIEST sleeper, he is the worst. He snores loudly, drools, moves, KICKS, mumbles and has the most vivid wildest dreams. (it happens rarely but sometimes he’ll dream about somethin, wake up and for a while be convinced it actually happened, you know like when you dream about arguing with your friend and being mad at them the next day etc) On the other hand, sometimes, all his features relax, he loses the scowl and looks surprisingly peaceful and happy… oh and he hogs the blanket.  

His sleep schedule is a fuckin mess, he is able to go like the whole week on few hours of sleep total when he is workin on a project but other days he gets grumpy if he doesnt get his 10h of beauty sleep every night.. 

★ - sad headcanon

uhhh i dont actually have much sad stuff for this boy yet, he brings me so much joy that i dont have the heart for that :’’’D (also i like him and chameleon team ups and Dmitri brings enough angst to the table for the both of them)

He really actually died that one time and went to hell (though in Patchwork, im not gonna keep everythin about that Daredevil plot, i really like Mysti being dangerous and actually a worthy opponent but most of it was too fucked up for my tastes…) and well… it wasnt great :’D  it mostly targeted his insecurities about his own talent he buried so deep he almost stopped believing them, the lack of respect and recognition and him willingly throwing away any chance he had at those by becoming Mysterio and of course everything that happened with his ex Brick Johnson…

☆ - happy headcanon

blease consider: autistic Quentin !!!!!!

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

he doesnt have a hair trigger temper like Ock or Electro but Damn does this boy holds grudges over literally everything :’D lots of overcomplicated, carefully crafted revenge plots just for eating the last yogurt in the fridge… He gets frustrated easily, getting snappy and rude, especially if people are not listening to him, but it’s often about the pettiest things, the bigger stuff doesnt affect him as much.  

He doesnt enjoy violence for the sake of violence but he is not above it either, everythin is allowed for his big performance…… he can be quite a good n friendly boss if you listen to his orders and work well but can just as much set you up to die in an explosion, all while smiling and patting you on the back… 

✿ - Sex headcanon

my Mysterio is gay as hell but also somewhere on the ace spectrum… not sex-repulsed but definitely not a high drive either (he feels oddly smug about that, like look at those fools trying to get into each others’ pants, how pathetic, *I* in the meantime have time for things that Truly matter, like recreating every Xmen battle ever with only straws and gum.) 

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

listen, i basically grew up on those “the entire villain team lives in a single place - shenanigans ensue” fics so im not givin up on the Sinister Six HQ, okay. (Chameleon usually finds them a suitable house with enough rooms, as luxurious as their current fonds allow, and he prides himself in putting in lil personal touches that he knows the sin six members would enjoy, for Quentin it’s often very obscure movies, rare memorabilia from his favorite ones, stuff for his illusions, a stolen Oscar…) 

 When these are unavailable (aka superheroes got them busted) or when he aint in the middle of a crime job, he usually stays at one of the Cham’s safehouses (with or without him) and in a few of them, he already has his own dedicated room with some of his fav old tricks on display. Speakin of which, he has a BIG warehouse with most of his setups and stages or at least models. He doesnt really plan on reusing them but he likes having them all together 

♡ - romantic headcanon

((jakjgkfajga im a loser and ended up shippin him with Chameleon and everythin i’ve thought off so far is EMBARRASSING AND CHEESY AS FUCK :’’’’D so im gonna leave those for another time))

Beck being an Extra Bitch he is, lives for the Big Romantic Gestures like in the movies and he often gets so caught up in the prep he.. kinda disregards the person he was makin it for, the making of the effect means more for him than  the actual sentiment behind it… 

(ok maybe One mysteleon hc, while it pains him, Quentin knows Chammy Would Not Enjoy being a target of such grand display… he gotta be more subtle, creating a scene where he could play in disguise and dupe some superheroes mayhaps…) 

♥ - family headcanon

like 99% of the villains and their grandma, his family wasnt great, mum left when he was very young with another guy, his dad considered his passion for movies a great waste of time and let lil Quentin know how disappointed he was at every occasion both vocally and physically.. After the first few broken models and ripped tapes with stop animations that took weeks to complete, Quentin stopped tryin to impress and convince his father about the greatness of special effects.. He joined a boxing club and learnt some other martial arts but as soon as he could, he left to join a proper film school which led to his father dropping both financing and all contact with him. 

☮ - friendship headcanon

Im not even gonna start about Chameleon’s and Mysterio’s friendship because that shit is canon and i cry about it on a daily basis. 

Despite his penchant for Dramatics, the constant Need for Validation and Backstabbing and other Throwing Shit in the Fan just cuz it was narratively better, Quentin actually has quite a few friends? He gets along quite well with everyone from the Sin Six and many other villains and even has some ‘normie’ pals from the film industry or just neighborhood… 

One of his most surprising is actually Doc Ock with whom he gets along even outside of business partners/partners in crime basis. Though maybe not so surprising, Mysterio is quite vocal with his praises when he feels like they are deserved and Doc as well actually admires and recognizes Beck’s talent while it is still enough specific for him not to feel threatened in his superiority (once he tried to improve them and show them to Quentin with his usual arrogance and flair and that was the biggest fight they ever had and they werent on speaking terms for a loooong while after that… Oct cant stand not having the last word so he still modified some of Mysterio’s tricks even after that but he actually cares about their friendship enough to not tell Mysti about it.. Not like he would ever admit that to Quentin’s fishbowl face) 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

like 99% of everythin Mysti does is Somehow related to special effects/film or the Drama in general but my boy is a nerd in general, theater, books, comics, manga, roleplaying games, you name it. He especially likes flashy stuff obviously. 

He really enjoys learning new techniques and figuring out how to make something happen. When he was younger, he was viciously against CGI but later he started to sorta respect it as its own category that needs talent and effort… he still prefers to use the traditional techniques of course :’D (…as traditional as HYPNOTIZING PEOPLE WITH NEURAL GAZ IS) 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

He has a very Complicated relationship with the film industry……. on the one hand, he loves the behind the scenes, the rush, the Action…. but on the other hand, he hates it with a fiery passion, everythin from how you get treated like dirt and the pretentious prizes being awarded just for the Big names and hollywood and everythin turning around the money an-…., he has a very long list and it is alphabetized. (While he has a point for many of those complaints, the fact HE himself never got any pretentious award remains probably the main issue…) 

he absolutely despises people making fun of D-grade shitty movies in the “this shitty horror is so cheesy and dumb it’s funny and i love it” way, either because the people workin on it were good and trying their best but the money or the producers etc ruined it (his experience) and then it’s an unfair critique or because the creators just didnt try hard enough and that’s even worse in his books and this movie should not get Any Attention much less a positive one.. 

he likes complaining and being snarky :’D he enjoys the challenge Spidey sets for them and loves playing tag with him (even when he loses..) He loves the prep before his big shows both alone or with help, the adrenalin when actually pulling it off and when he discusses it with Cham in details. He lives for the applause and recognition and ~Fame~ 

▼ - childhood headcanon

not as much as hc as adopting the Webspinners’ aproach: he spent most of his childhood daydreaming, hiding himself behind the stories and special effects….. not many friends aside from Betsy but he didnt really need them, he wanted audience not pals.. In the film school he started to be more social and communicative, he met Brick there and they started goin out… 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

hhhhh im conflicted, there are like 3 comics where Q is retired because he has enough of superheroes beating him up and he Really doesnt want to go back to it.. I cant see him actually givin up on it totally tho… idk idk

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Like with sleep, it oscillates wildly. He can forget to eat when he is hypefocusin on a particular project (one single chip suffices as nourishment) or he just subsides on ramen for a month but on the other hand he is quite a capable cook. Nothing Extraordinary but he can make enough diverse simple meals. When livin with Chammy, they both enjoy eating out so they do that as much as the budget allows (so not that much, illusions arent cheap…) 

☼ - appearance headcanon

im still thinkin about that one post that described Quentin as a “toenail of a man” and i couldnt agree more :’D very short, pig nose, hairstyle à la Spock, stocky built and weirdly beefy, like this guy’s thigh is bigger than some heads… (for a nerd he is surprisingly strong what the fuck) 

All Mysterios are Good Mysterios but my preferred ones have a bigass ROUND fishbowl, the longest cape and somethin as a belt, preferably sash.. 

ൠ - random headcanon

he actually isnt….. that great of an actor nor director nor creator………………….. (im sorry baby i love you but it’s tru….) he unconsciously copies a lot of stuff he has seen elsewhere, he follows overused tropes, his work is packed with cliches and cheesy over the top pathos… his special effects mastery n creativity with workin out his illusions is absolutely INCREDIBLE dont get me wrong, it’s just… the plot/ideas……..  at first he lived in denial about this still believing 100% his work is Wonderful and Perfect and he is just a misunderstood author… later he decided to embrace it and he is livin the life now :D

[pooklet]

unaesthetic asks (anon edition)

i usually use a psd for asks to make them look nice and transparent and number them but tbh it’s just keeping me from answering asks quickly, having to shift layers around and stuff. so this is me literally cutting and pasting the text of some asks into a text post instead, sry.

if i did not answer yr thing here i lost/never got the ask, need a separate post to answer it (community lot anon), or worked myself into an anxious lather when i did not have an immediate response at the ready and fled into the woods to hide inside an old damp log and mutate slowly into a creature composed entirely of moss.

1) hey friend i think i can actually help with this one! slig did my poor lover for momma lisa, and has a few of my other skins linked to different body meshes in this tag here. @asimplevampire​ also did rehash for androgyny. those are the two i know off the top of my head but if anyone else knows any others pls reply to this post!

i don’t personally make showerproof skintones for body meshes because i a) am lazy and b) don’t usually take pics of my sims in the shower or naked in general so the occasional floating head just gives me a lil chortle when it does happen.

2) yis, it is the second to last one in this post by @magpieplayssims​ with a bunch of face masks piled on.

3) i use a personal edit of gunmod’s 3.1 A camera which alters the, like, central pivot axis so i can swing the camera underground into any basements i might be using. as a result, whenever i load the lot, it starts me off zoomed inside the floor, you just gotta zoom out with the scroll wheel to get above ground and it works normally from there. i haven’t figured out how to mitigate this while still being able to access underground rooms. which is why my edit never got its own post, but i did share it here.

4) nah, not really. i mean i have an outdated one at the back of my catalogue but my face is boring to me cuz i see it every day n stuff & i’m less and less interested in making human features now that custom sliders have let me go absolutely mad with power.

5) ye sorry i put that on my to-do list and promptly forgot about it cuz my brain seems to think that putting something on a list means it’s done forever now!!!! but now it’s actually done and i’m fixing the other links too.

6) yr phone is a craven liar and i will not stand for this libel. earlier today i was genuinely bewildered by a discussion about channing tatum cuz i thought his name was tatum channing. i sat there for minutes, convinced that there were two guys in hollywood one named channing tatum and the other named tatum channing and wondering if that ever got confusing for them.

7) u would be surprised, friend! my memory is a lawless wasteland but i do not end up chatting back and forth w/ many ppl b/c i am a seething pit of social anxiety. if we talked, like, more than twice, i probs remember u!

8) omg i was about to be like “nah i never made nosemasks for those” but that is a fucking lie of the highest caliber, i totally did make one (1) set and then forgot entirely about it. i will post them with the next batch of bodyshop content which should be Shortly (and if i don’t just yell @ me and i’ll just lazily put them on sfs and link them in a reply).

also thank u anon i am glad u like my content! :D

9) omg thank u so much anon that is so sweet of u to say!! truly i don’t feel like i have accomplished a whole lot beyond managing to snag @resurrection-failed​ but that is definitely the Best thing i could accomplish so i am 100% fine w/ that

10) oh ts4. i want to play it real bad but i have discovered that playing games that are still being updated and could break at any moment due to a new patch or ep gives me hives. esp when it’s sims games b/c those are held together exclusively w/ wishes and prayers as it is. they’re like the bottom panel of an expanding brain meme on spaghetti coding. at least when the game is Done there nothing else for EA to break (... right?). plus i only have base+pets and no money to throw at the other expansions so i could maybe download 1/10th of the cc available out there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but i am excited to be late af to the party. lemme tell u. thank u for saying such nice things, anon!! i hope u have a good day also. like, lots of ‘em.

11) hey anon! it’s built into tumblr’s text editor. u type the text first, highlight it, and click on the fourth button that looks like a slouchy figure 8 to insert yr link. i’m not sure if it’s the same on mobile, tho, cuz the tumblr mobile app is self-elected torture.

12) i do not right now but i can make one. idk if it would interest you but i am also doing a big ol’ blend of the hq eyes and wifezaya’s favorite ephemera mist eyes and will make a default version of those too when they are done.

13) nah i am still using my v3 texture for straight hairs and for waves or natural hair i just use nouk’s originals. i’m old-fashioned and boring. if u need help w/ making yr own, tho, i would suggest checking out @furbyq​’s tutorial here!

14) hey friend! i did have plans to do that, in that vague way where i have plans to do many things but most of the time end up taking a five-hour nap under a cat instead or watchin game grumps. luckily, @digitalangels​ is a doll and did it for me so consider this my official endorsement. i am pooklet and i approve this action.

15) hey anon. when did i call it that?? i think usually i just call it marriage or equal marriage if i need to specify (or gay marriage if i’m feelin Spicy cuz nonbinary-for-nonbinary is pretty gay). if i did say same-sex it was probs w/ implied air-quotes since that was the term du jour when we got married, which was 3+ years before the supreme court mandate, when it was only legal in some places and everyone was still ‘‘‘‘debating’’’’ the ‘‘‘‘issue’’’’ of queers gettin all married.

16) i been gatherin’ links for u anon but lemme look around a lil more. i will either give this its own post or add it as its own section in the resource post that is like .... five years overdue. meanwhile if anyone reading this has anything they either know is made for dark skin or works well universally or knows of a list like this that already exists, i would appreciate links!

17) I KNOW THAT’S YOU, AZAYA