#my source is that i made it the fuck up!!!!

[confused-wanderer]

The villains are utterly confused.

They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.

The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.

But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:

The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.

SCENE 1

Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.

Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..

Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?

Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*

Red Hood:

Two-Face:

Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?

Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!

Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?

Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?

Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?

Two-Face:

Goon 1: I mean.. yeah

Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!

Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??

Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.

Red Hood:

Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones

Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-

SCENE 2

Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!

Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!

Nightwing: .. robin?

Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?

Nightwing:

Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after

Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.

Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.

Nightwing:

Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)

[downstairsbar]

also sam is way more nuanced about lestat than ppl give him credit for on here 😭 like of course someone else writing about you is always going to engender an element of interpretation and we all read what we wanna read when it’s so disconnected from the person saying it but he’s not some mindless lestat apologist he’s actually very thoughtful and saying relevant things and thinking about this on a level that once you get there you’re like fuck. that’s literally so true and it’s so obvious that you’re kinda like blindsided not to have realized this already. he’s not like downplaying louis’ story or acting like louis is lying, him and jacob are actually quite similar in thinking on this i think? i just think jacob is more articulate 😭 anyway all this to say he doesn’t talk over Jacob lol theyre having a conversation. like they’re pushing e/o to think more deeply about it even though they end up with the same answer basically. in MY opinion. they’re literally just having a conversation

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

FUBAR [AO3]

Female Reader x GHOAP

NSFW 18+ [All of my blog is thus] Minors DNI, I mean it, *Logan Roy voice* Fuck off.

Summary: You, Soap, and Ghost get dosed with sex pollen. Warnings and full fic under the cut.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Dubcon(everyone is into it but high on pheromones), MMF Threesome, MLM, Blowjobs (M giving and receiving), oral F!receiving, dirty talk, soft dom!Simon, very loose sub/dom dynamics, RACK/SSC not really applicable due to sex pollen but it's not bad kink, just not the most realistic, safewords are used, unprotected PiV (reader is on Birth Control), Creampie, Sir Kink, subby Johnny, subby Reader. Let me know if I missed anything! No physical description of reader but Simon moves her around a little (no heavy lifting really). Thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for taking a look/betaing for me.

Word Count: 4,370

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

You rouse slowly to the sound of heavy grunts, desperate sighs, and a wet, slurping sound. You let out a soft whine as the sounds go straight to your core. Your legs clenching together as you try and quell the ache building there.

That’s when the buzzing in your ears starts, low and droning like an incessant fly rattling around your skull. Your entire body aches like you’ve run a marathon, before fighting off a bear. You groan as you try and stretch out your limbs, your eyes slowly adjusting to the low light filling the space around you.

The pitched roof above you is made of thick wooden beams, the orange light emanating from a lamp in the corner casts a romantic hue over everything. You turn your head, searching for the source of the noise and your mouth goes dry.

Soap and Ghost are tangled on the floor a few feet away clothes discarded; their scarred bodies bathed in the ochre light as you watch Ghost cradle Soap’s head in a loving gesture as they break a heated kiss. You bite your lip as you watch the pornographic scene unfold. You realise it’s the first time you’ve seen Ghost without his mask on, he’s strikingly handsome.

His face is scarred, aged lacerations and burns marking his strong jaw, up and through the left side of his plush lips. His nose is somewhat crooked, broken one too many times, and set poorly more than once. He’s beautiful.

There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that tells you to speak up, or at the very least roll over to give them some privacy. But you’re transfixed, your panties are soaked through as you dip your hand below the waistline of your trousers.

It’s sick and twisted but you feel yourself burning up even hotter as you toy with your swollen clit as you watch them. But you simply don’t care, it’s like you’ve lost all sense of shame, your inhibitions ripped free from your mind as you watch Soap press open mouthed kisses to Ghost’s chest.

“Go on, Johnny,” He purrs lowly as the smaller man sinks between his thighs, “Be a good boy for me.”

“Fuck, anything for you, Si,” Johnny responds with a whine as you watch his lips trail further down the scarred expanse of your LT’s body. He nips and sucks on Simon’s nipples and you can’t help but wish that he was worshiping you as well.

“Fuck,” Ghost groans as you witness Johnny’s lips wrap around his cock, “That’s it, Johnny, fuck I need you.”

The desperation in Ghost’s voice makes you squirm as you feel heat rushing through your veins as you rub your fingers desperately over your swollen clit. You’re drenched as you hear the wet sound of Johnny taking Ghost’s thick cock almost all the way to the base.

Johnny works Ghost’s cock like a pro, his thick fingers pressed into Ghost’s muscular thighs as his cheeks hollow out. His head bobs in practiced strokes, pulling off almost all the way to suckle around Ghost’s bulbous tip, drawing out harsh choked moans from the gruff, stoic man.

You’re panting like a bitch in heat now, no longer subtle in your movements as you shove your trousers and panties down around your thighs. You’re in too much of a rush to take them off completely as you plunge two fingers inside your aching cunt. You fail to stifle the whine in the back of your throat as you match the increased pace Johnny sets on Ghost’s cock.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” Ghost’s growling drawl makes you clench around your fingers, you should feel ashamed, you should stop. But getting caught only spurs you on as you add another finger into your drenched core. You look to your Lieutenant, his scarred, handsome face twisted in a blissed-out snarl as Johnny eases off his cock.

“Don’t stop,” you cry out, voice hoarse as you make eye contact with Johnny whose eyes are wide with shock, “Please, I’m going to come.”

“You heard her, Johnny,” Ghost says with a click of his tongue, “Put on a show.”

Your cheeks heat at the way he talks down to Johnny, but more at the way Johnny moans at the instruction, redoubling his efforts.

The Scot gets sloppier, the loud gluck, gluck, gluck of Ghost’s cock hitting the back of Soap’s throat again and again echoes the squelching sounds coming from your cunt as you try and match his pace.

You hit your peak with a wail as you clamp down on your fingers, pleasure rocking through you in hard bursts. The tightness in your core eases for a spell as you come down from your high just to hear the euphoric roar of Ghost coming down Soap’s throat.

“Fuck,” you groan as you roll onto your side, watching in perverted awe as Soap laps at Ghost’s cock, licking him clean before suckling on his tip slowly. Icy eyes locking with Simon’s hazy, blissed out amber ones before turning his gaze to you.

“Come join us, hen,” Johnny says with his signature smirk as he sits back on his ass, his dick still painfully hard as it slaps against his scarred abdomen.

“Yeah,” Ghost groans as he curls two fingers at you, beckoning for you to join them, “We need to talk.”

You’re moving before you can even process the request, you waddle over with your trousers and panties still rolled down, hands pulling at your shirt and bra as you discard them both somewhere behind you. You’re fumbling with your trousers when a firm hand catches your wrist.  

“Slow your roll, sergeant,” Ghost says, his tone serious as you try to look at his face, and not the beautiful dick bobbing between his legs as it still glistens with a combination of Johnny’s spit and his come.

“What happened, what’s wrong with me?” You ask in a hushed whisper as you try and replay the events of the last forty-eight hours.

“You took a grenade for us, you twat,” Ghost says with a low chuckle, “It was a prototype of the chemical weapon we were tracking.”

“Shit,” you suddenly feel itchy, like you’re covered in bugs, “What’s the damage?”

“It was some kind of pheromone bomb,” Soap chimes in as he traces circles over the skin of your exposed ankle, sending shivers up your spine, “Meant to drive people into a blind rage.”

“Instead, it seems like it’s more of an aphrodisiac,” Ghost adds, pointing between himself and Johnny, “We were hit too, trying to save your reckless ass.”

“So, what? You two just got started without me?” You scoff, trying to ease the tension coiling in your belly as you feel the magnetic pull of their bodies as you sit there topless, cunt exposed with your trousers tight around your thighs.

“We weren’t going to touch you in your sleep, hen, come on. What do you take us for?”

“Besides,” Ghost says with a sigh, “We’re not exactly unfamiliar with each other’s cocks,” Johnny flashes Ghost a dazzling smile at that and it clicks into place in your mind.

“Oh, so you’re not into women,” you nod in bitter understanding as you try not to feel rejected, “Do I just go and wank myself to death in the corner then?”

You try to pass it off as a joke, but you can see the way both men look at you. There’s an undeniable yearning etched on both their faces.

“Lass,” Johnny says as he trails his fingertips up to your bunched up trousers, “Gaz thinks we need to fuck this drug out, it’s no good just trying to wank the pain away.”

“Eloquent as ever, Johnny,” Simon sighs but the smirk on his face betrays any attempt at scolding Soap, “But he’s right, Gaz and Price managed to avoid getting dosed, this dumb fuck and I got too close trying to get your limp body out and got a whiff of the stuff.”

“We were worried about you, hen, we care about you.”

“So, you swing both ways?” You ask bluntly, after failing to find a better, less crass way of putting it.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, “And we’ve been sweet on you a while, just didn’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“But this bullshit kind of forced our hands,” Ghost adds as he flattens his broad palm over the back of one of your hands, “We don’t have to make any promises about what comes next, there’s no pressure from either of us, I hope you know that.”

You nod slowly, your skin burning as you try not to lean in and just kiss Ghost, you know there’s more to be said yet.

“We need to fuck, to survive this,” Johnny says as he moves his hand up to cup your cheek, his crystal blue eyes boring into you as you hold his gaze, “We don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to, but let us help you.”

“Tell us what you need,” Simon encourages you as he presses his nose against the swell of your bare shoulder as he trails his fingertips up your side, “Tell us what we can do to make you feel good.”

“Help me get out of these,” you gesture to your trousers and panties, “Then fuck me, please.”

“So, you two,” you start as Simon’s fingers slip under the bunched-up fabric to pull your legs free, “You’re an item?”

“Fuckin’ hell, lass,” Johnny groans as he bucks up into your hand as you squeeze him tightly in your clenched fist, “Do you want us to fuck ye or not?”

“Johnny,” Simon snaps in warning as he pulls his fingers from you, you huff at that, but Simon shushes you gently, “Look, we can talk about who’s courting who later, right now, we have bigger priorities.”

“Of course, sorry, sir,” you say without thinking and you watch as Simon’s pupils dilate at the slip. As if the ache in your core wasn’t painful enough. The way the tension just doubled has you squirming under his gaze.

“Fuck, I really want to go easy on you,” he growls as he grabs your waist, turning you around and tearing you away from Johnny as he sits back, legs spread as he pulls you onto his lap, “But you can’t go calling me sir, not right now.”

There’s a warning and a challenge baked into his words as you hear Johnny laugh quietly behind you. The Scot clearly privy to some in-joke you’re eager to find out about.

You consider the quiet, logical voice that’s telling you to just get this over with, fuck and be done with it. But the way Simon’s fingers are digging into the meat of your hips, and the way his cock throbs as you slowly rock your cunt along the underside of it makes you bold.

Or stupid.

“Message received, loud and clear,” you say breathily as you place your hands either side of Simon’s thick neck, thumbs digging up into the underside of his jaw, “L.T.”

“On your knees,” he grunts as you feel him push you back into Johnny’s waiting arms, you hesitate for a second before he glares at you, “That’s an order.”

You do as you are told, the hardwood flooring biting into your shins as you feel Johnny shift behind you. You’re about to turn your head and ask what’s going on when you feel one of Johnny’s palms on the curve of your hip. You’re pitched forward by his other hand pressing between your shoulders, forcing you onto your hands and knees as you look up to see Simon’s face alight with dark desire.

“Work her open Johnny, get her nice and ready for that pretty dick of yours,” he says, delirium edging his tone as he orders Johnny around.

“On it,” Soap says with a peppy lilt to his voice as he spreads your ass cheeks.

“We need a safe word, the moment it becomes too much, too rough – whatever – you say it and we stop,” Simon orders as you look up to see the tip of his cock dangerously close to your lips.

“Ok,” you nod eagerly as you feel Soap’s thumbs digging into your skin to expose your dripping cunt, “FUBAR.”

“Ok we’ll all go with that, immediate stop on FUBAR, you got that, MacTavish?” Simon asks the Scot, and you whine as Johnny nips at your left ass cheek.

“Loud and clear,” he hums in affirmation as he gropes and paws at your spread cheeks impatiently, clearly waiting for the next order.

“Good,” Simon says with a smile as he cups your chin with one hand and fists the base of his cock with the other, “Go on Johnny, don’t be shy.”

You’re barely given a second to think before Soap’s tongue darts out to tease at your entrance. The hot drag of his wet muscle makes you whine as you fixate on the bead of precome dribbling over Simon’s uncut tip.

“Suck,” he says as he presses the sticky head against your lips. You groan as you think of how Soap did it, hoping you live up to that mouthwatering display.

You do as you are told, letting him press his thick, ruddy tip into your mouth as Soap buries his face into your cunt from behind. You groan as you sink down on Simon’s cock, fingertips scraping on the wood floor as the musky, salty taste of his precome coats your tongue.

“Fuck,” Simon rasps as he cups your cheek, rocking his hips slowly as he chases the wet heat of your mouth, “How does she taste, Johnny?”

“So damned sweet,” he responds, voice muffled as he sucks hard on your clit, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin as he glides his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves, “Like fucken’ heaven.”

“Hear that?” Simon coos down at you, a sarcastic pout on his scarred lips as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, “You like it when we talk about you like you’re not even here?”

You nod fervently as you stick your tongue out in earnest, begging Simon to put his cock back in your mouth. You’re incensed, overwhelmed and greedy for anything these men can give you.

You try to blame it all on the drugs, but something deep inside you knows it’s more than that. You’ve wanted this for so long.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon says with a low hiss as he taps the head of his cock on your tongue a few times, pulling it back before you can wrap your lips back around it, “She’s a greedy little thing.”

“Please,” you whimper as Soap teases a finger inside you. He buries himself to the knuckle with ease as his lips wrap around your clit. He flicks and swirls his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves as the wet sound of his lips sucking on your sensitive bud fill your ears.

“What is it, love?” Simon asks with condescension heavy on his tongue, the pet name makes you clench around Soap’s thick digit, “What do you need?”

“Fuck me,” you pant as you feel Soap fucking a second finger into your tight cunt, scissoring and stretching you out as he groans into your sensitive skin, “Please, Si.”

“Oh, it’s Si now, is it?” He retorts with an edge to his voice, “Johnny, stop.”

You cry out in frustration as both men stop touching you, leaving you trembling on your hands and knees as the dull ache in your skull returns. You realise your error too late and you’re burning up as you try to make it right.

“Sir, please,” you cry out as your body aches. Your fingers and toes curl and uncurl as you bite your lip in frustration. The ripple of bittersweet humiliation has you clenching around nothing.

“That’s better,” he scoffs with a smirk before addressing Soap, “Think she can take you, Johnny?”

“Fucken’ hope so,” Soap says with a huff as he sinks two fingers back inside you with no warning, “I need to fuck you, can I, hen?”

You’re panting and whining as you look up to Simon for approval. The wet squelching sounds of Johnny’s fingers fucking in and out of your cunt loud in the otherwise quiet room as you feel pleasure scorching a path down your spine. You’re close but you need more, so much more.

“You ready?” Simon asks as he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones. 

“Yes, sir, please, I need you, need you both.”

“You heard her, Johnny, give the poor thing what she needs,” Simon commands as he lines his tip at your lips once more.

You’re greedy and impatient as you take as much of his thick length in as you can manage. You moan around his cock as Johnny notches himself at your core, the stretch already making your thighs tremble.

“C’mere, Johnny,” Simon growls as you look up to see the larger man grip Soap by the back of the neck, crashing their lips together as Johnny’s hips buck forwards. The stretch burns pleasantly as he sheaths himself fully inside you. You’re so impossibly full. The angle of their kiss has your nose pressed to the base of Simon’s cock, his wiry pubic hair brushing your nose as you struggle to control your gag reflex.

You’re a whining mess as you watch them kiss, tongues battling for dominance as you choke down on Simon’s girthy cock. It’s excruciating being held so still, so full of them, it doesn’t take long before you’re tapping out on Simon’s thigh, begging for relief.

The men separate with heavy exhales, a string of spit connecting their lips momentarily before they both look down at you with hungry eyes.

“Sorry, hen, you ok?” Johnny asks as he slowly eases almost all the way back out of you, the heft of his cock dragging deliciously through your walls. You clench hard around his tip, pulling a soft groan from his lips as you squeeze him.

“Yeah,” You nod dumbly before smiling up at them both, “Fucking amazing.”

“Such a good girl for us,” Simon coos as he lowers himself down to kiss you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You groan as Johnny starts to pick up the pace, you plant desperately into Simon’s open mouth as he lingers with his forehead pressed against yours. A surprisingly tender gesture that makes your chest flutter.

He exhales through his nose as he rocks back onto his knees. He straightens back up, cock held out for you as pearly precome beads at the tip. You lap it up eagerly before suckling on the tip, tongue delving under his foreskin and dipping into his slit.

“Fuck,” Simon growls as he places both hands on either side of your face, pulling your mouth down on his cock, “Too good at that, sweetheart, giving Johnny a run for his money,” he snarls as he gently rocks his hips, feeding you more and more of his cock with every thrust, “God, you look so pretty like this.”

“Aye,” Johnny whines as he squeezes your hips, already starting to snap you back against him with such force you’re mewling around Ghost’s cock, “Look at that ass fucken’ bounce”.” Johnny’s last words are punctuated by the sound of your cheeks slapping against his thick thighs as he delivers two brutal thrusts into your slick walls.

You’re so close, the fire burning under your skin rages on as you swallow around Simon’s cock, breathing heavily through your nose as you feel your throat contract as he pushes in deeper again.

“Shit, Si, I’m close,” Soap groans as he slips a hand between your legs, two thick fingers pressing hard against your clit.

“You’re on brith control right, love?” Simon snarls as he swipes the tears that fall down your cheeks with his thumbs, you nod around his cock and he smirks to himself.

“Come inside her, Johnny, fill her up,” he commands as he withdraws from your mouth once more and you’re about to protest when he tuts, “Want to hear your sweet little moans as you come.”

Johnny pulls you back against him, fingers of his one hand still swirling over your throbbing clit, the other wraps around your throat. You cry out as he fucks up into you as Simon crowds you from the front.

“Come for me, Johnny,” he growls as he presses his chest against you, his cock firm against your belly as he kisses Johnny roughly. His one hand fists in the base of Johnny’s Mohawk as the other grips your waist, pinning you between them.

The smothering heat makes you gasp as your orgasm rips through you, your vision blurs as you clench hard around Johnny’s cock. You’re crying out, a whining mess as Simon ruts against your front, while Johnny fucks you in hard, erratic thrusts as he reaches his peak.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon growls as you feel the hot pulse of his cum splattering against your stomach, followed closely by the last few thrusts from Johnny into your quivering cunt from behind.

Johnny groans low in your ear as he comes deep inside you, his dick twitching with every spurt inside your pulsing walls. You fall forward into Simon’s arms as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

“There you go,” Simon says with a softness so unlike him as the three of you sink to the floor together.

You huddle there for some time, two pairs of lips leaving trailing kisses along your chest, your shoulders, and neck. They kiss one another from time to time, slow, lingering, as you bask in the affection shared between them. Rough fingertips glide over your skin, mapping the curves of your body in a silent display of affection.

“Need to clean up,” Simon finally grunts as you feel his come sticking to your joined bodies as Johnny’s come leaks down your thighs, “Then, sleep.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny grumbles as he slowly eases out of you.

There’s a tension in your chest, the haze of the drug clearly abating, replaced now with an anxiety that threatens to eat you alive.

You finish up cleaning up with a stack of wet wipes you had in bergen to do a half-decent job at cleaning off the evidence of the evening’s activities from your skin.  You pull on your t-shirt and trousers before looking up to see Johnny and Simon are sat together against the wall near where you had been lying earlier that evening.

They’re also fully dressed, and there’s an ache in your chest that makes you needy for their touch, to be skin-to-skin with them again.

“Hey,” you say, barely more than a whisper as you slump in a heap a few feet in front of them.

Johnny’s curled into Simon’s side, head on the larger man’s shoulder. He’s barely awake as he looks up to address you.

“What’s up, hen?” Johnny asks, bright blue eyes glimmering in the low light. 

“Yeah, talk to us,” Simon chimes in as he pats the space to his left.

You crawl over slowly, unsure if you should take the space being offered to you.

“What does this all mean? For us, after all this, what do we do now?”

“Whatever you want, hen,” Johnny says, blinking rapidly to shake the fatigue from his eyes, attempting address you more clearly, “We don’t have to put any meaning to this if you don’t want to.”

“Or,” Simon rumbles as he places a hand against the swell of your shoulder, “We can get back home and see how it all plays out, for the three of us, together.”

You consider it for a moment, trying not to make a rash decision, for all you know the drug could still be affecting your decision making. But there’s a wholesome warmth burning under your cheeks as both men look at you with deeply affectionate grins.

“I think I’d like to see where this goes for us, if you’re happy with that?” You ask quietly, fear gnawing at your insides.

“I’d love that,” Johnny says with a gentle yawn.

“So would I,” Simon agrees as he pulls both of you tight against him, “Now sleep, we’ve got a busy few days ahead to get to the exfil on time.”

“Yes, sir,” you and Johnny say in unison, which causes you all to laugh.

It feels too good to be true, too easy.

But for now, you don’t let it bother you, and you fall asleep in a blissful haze as you let yourself hope that something good will come out of this. 

“Wait,” you perk up with morbid realisation, “Where are Gaz and Price?”

“In the next room,” Soap says with a smirk on his face, “Probably heard the whole thing.”

“Fuck off, Si, tell me he’s joking?”

“Negative, but it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have caught us fucking,” he shrugs as he flashes you a toothy grin.

“Well, it’s the first fucking time they’ve heard me,” you groan as you bury your face into Ghost’s side, heat burning under your skin as you try not to think about what your CO and fellow sergeant just heard.

“They’ll get used to it,” Soap says as he finds one of your hands and laces his fingers through your own, “Besides, I recon we could convince them both to join in the fun.”

“Johnny,” Simon growls in a half-hearted warning.

“Alrigh’, I’m just kidding,” Soap squeezes your hand in his, “Get some sleep, hen, we’re here for you, no matter what.”

You grumble in discontent as you squeeze back before hunkering down against Simon’s broad form.

Maybe it’s the effects of the drug, but your mind starts to wander as you drift off. You can’t help but imagine what it would have been like if it had been Gaz and Price in here instead of Johnny and Simon.

You fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you let your imagination run wild.

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

[randomwriteronline]

Mata Nui refused to sleep.

He had not given a reason for it, in the distinct way one does not give a reason for something they find immensely discomforting, so none had bothered to pry further, and he had never slept.

This was a useful problem. Useful, because he could still rest through meditation whilst remaining aware of his sorroundings, meaning there was always someone to keep an eye out for the many rogue crawlies that infested Bara Magna at night and any Bone Hunter ambushes, so there was no need to take turns keeping awake and vigilant; a problem, because Kiina now had to be wrestled to sleep lest she abused the down time they had to pester the stranger on space and planets and the such, and Mata Nui was more than glad to speak of anything she might have inquired about at length.

That would have also been a useful problem, as his explanations were told in a low gentle monotone that could have lulled a furious Rock Steed into a chittering pup gently kicking and pawing at the sand in its slumber, if the Gaquri would have managed to stop interjecting with far too loud a volume of voice.

As it was, however, all their conversations did was hinder everybody else's attempt at getting some shut-eye.

When Ackar awoke, the night was perfectly silent.

He wondered briefly why in Plude he'd stirred. A sudden flesh-rendering pain jolting through his right shoulder answered him a little too eagerly for his tastes, and he groaned as he kneaded into it with his fingers.

"Ackar?" a half whisper reached him.

He grunted in acknowledgement.

Mata Nui shifted from where he sat to lean over him: "Is something the matter, my friend?"

The Glatorian pushed himself upright with a bit of difficulty: "Nothing, nothing... Give me a second," he muttered, "I shouldn't sleep with it, but - urgh! Alright, alright, hold my elbow a moment, would you?"

He hissed his thanks through gritted teeth as his limb was caught in a gentle grip. His fingers slipped below his armpit and fumbled angrily with the folds of his skin as his grimace twitched with each spark of pain: at last, with a few clunks and exhausted pops, the arm went limp in Mata Nui's hold as it detached from the rest of Ackar's body, leaving the Glatorian to sigh in relief and move his hand closer to the crook of his own neck.

His friend stared at the body part suddenly in his palms with no shortage of surprise.

"It is a prosthesis," he noted, a little awed: "I did not realize that."

"Yes, well - it's not really your fault for that. It's not that easy to tell, and I never mentioned it," the Glatorian replied as he did his best to massage his aching shoulder blade.

The motion attracted the attention of blue eyes: "Are you hurt?"

"Ah... Nothing to be worried about. I should not sleep with it, is all. It decides to start stinging like Plude if I do that too much."

"You have slept with it all these nights, though."

Ackar gave a lopsided smile: "I know, I know - but when you're out here in the desert, it's always better to have two arms at the ready rather than one."

Mata Nui nodded solemnly, with a grave air about him, as though the Glatorian had bestowed great wisdom upon him instead of basic Bara Magnan common sense, and the veteran warrior could not help chuckling a little at him.

The otherworlder took great care to place the fake limb on the sand so that it would not jam its inner mechanisms before turning once more to his friend: "May I help you?"

"With what?"

"Your shoulder."

"It's just inflamed muscles."

"It doesn't seem as though you can reach the spot bothering you very comfortably on your own. I would be glad to lend a hand."

"Oh? You have experience with this?" the Glatorian teased him lightly, but he did slowly begin unfastening his chest armor with careful movements made surprisingly swift by half a lifetime practicing with only one hand.

"I do not," Mata Nui confessed, completely missing any and all implications: "But I do wish to be of help."

"If it would please you, then, be my guest," Ackar smiled. "Though I will say, at the cost of sounding like a frail maiden - take off your gauntlets at least. I'm pretty sure you'd rip my flesh right off of me if it got pinched in your armor."

"I see. That is an unfortunate request."

"Why so?"

"I am physically incapable of removing my armor."

The other just shrugged casually as he pulled off his undershirt: "I can help you with it."

"You are very kind, but I did not mean that it is impractical to fasten or get out of," the otherworlder clarified. He placed a palm on where his clavicle should have been, lightly curling his phalanxes around the edges of the golden yellow metal covering his upper half: "Taking this off would be akin to skinning me."

Ackar responded to the information with a wide eyed stare.

"Ah," he convened finally: "That'd be quite terrible."

"It would indeed, my friend."

"So - hold it, hold it. You've been naked this whole time?"

"I... Would not... Describe myself as such."

"No, no, I mean--" the Glatorian reworded himself as he scooted over, "This whole time, we've been running around fighting for our lives, fending off vicious beasts and Bone Hunters, and you haven't had a single piece of protective gear on you?"

Mata Nui blinked: "I am shielded," he replied.

"I don't mean Click and the whole - thing, that you make him do that turns him into a shield," Ackar said as he settled down with his back to his friend. "I mean something that keeps your soft insides from getting sliced in half at the first swing of a blade, or from getting skewered by the first Thornax launched into the back of your knee."

"I am shielded." the other insisted.

"By what?"

"My carapace."

His fingertips laid on the Tapyri's back, only to retreat in confusion a moment after. Whatever puzzled him was eventually deemed inconsequential, as he returned to study the shoulder blade beneath his fingers in search of any anomalies beneath the skin that could clue him in on where to strike.

"Your what?" Ackar asked.

"My body is naturally armored," he explained without breaking focus: "Much like insects, certain species of reptiles, or likely the Vorox and Zesk from what I could observe of them, I am covered by an exoskeleton meant to protect my organs and sustain my body. It is unclear whether I possess an additional endoskeleton, like you, but I must confess I am not very keen to find out."

"Huh," his friend noted. After a moment, he added: "Because you'd have to be skinned."

"Yes."

"Very fair."

That was quite the load of information.

By all means, this wasn't necessarily the first time they'd heard of carapaced sentient beings - the Fezeri of the Iron tribe had something of the sort, and if you tried searching through their old settlements enough you were bound to find some molts that had survived the passage of time - but they still had bones in them. Like normal people.

And yes, of course, Mata Nui was abnormal under every aspect if you looked at him for longer than two minutes.

But being a huge humanoid bug?

Now that was unexpected.

More than everything else.

Including coming from space. Because even Kiina had imagined that spacepeople would have had bones in them, or at least been aware of having them.

All of a sudden the Glatorian gave a short snorting laugh.

"You're so confusing," he said whistfully, craning his neck back. "By the looks of it one would guess you're just a slightly irregular fellow, and yet you're some sort of alien who's more like Click than any of the rest of us. You're just full of surprises."

"Oh! I suppose that is true," Mata Nui mused.

He sounded somewhat amused by his resemblance to the beetle. Like he hadn't noticed it himself until now.

His fingers slid on what seemed like a slight bump under the oily skin. That must have been the problem, he thought to himself, and without further ado dug his thumb in the spot: against his carapace he almost felt the individual fibers of muscle flatten under the pressure he exercised upon them, the tight knot they were wrapped in struggling not to yield and unfurl.

He didn't quite get the time to focus on that, however, as he was startled out of the tactile sensation by a deep gurgling sound rattling almost right in his audio receptor.

Ackar, for his part, was trembling so much that the flesh folded around the back of his ribs seemed to be trying its hardest to imitate the vibrating tempo of a dragonfly's wings as it raced its peers across the surface of a lake.

"Oh, I think you found it!" he gingerly said before his friend could wonder whether he'd accidentally hurt him - which in a matter of seconds was no longer a concern seeing as the Glatorian all but leaned further into his thumb: "Go on, go on, those bastards are hard to get rid of--"

Another growl reverberated through the otherwise still air, and Mata Nui realized it was coming from directly under his palms.

Ergo, it was coming from Ackar.

He tried digging harder into the skin: the shoulder wiggled around his finger in a very curious way and the gurgling's volume raised a little more, while the trembling returned to rattle through the Tapyri just as hard as it had before.

Sound and tremors repeated in varying intensity as he continued to knead his fingers against the suffering spot, usually accompanied by the body in question trying to recline directly into the pressure much like certain creatures do when gently scratched in specific areas. He deduced these reactions must have been positive ones, meant to communicate a contented or happy disposition - perhaps specific to the Fire tribe? The trembling in particular, with its very visible reverberations all across the being's frame, seemed to require the presence of an amount of skin which was notably higher than what he could glimpse on Gaquri and Lebori alike... Although Ackar was also significantly older than Gresh, Berix and Kiina, and it would not have been wise to rule out the possibilty of age playing an important part in determining the quantity of soft tissue.

Speaking of the skin, though he was very taken with the large splatter-like marks all across his back, there was also something else that was puzzling if not outright concerning him about it.

"You're sweating quite a lot," Mata Nui noted out loud.

Ackar leaned so far into his hand that he almost dropped down right onto the sand.

"Ah - 'sss not sweat," he drawled through the rumbling in his neck: "Don'- don't frrreak out now, ok- 's mucus."

His friend hummed, unbothered: "That explains the consistency."

"Don' worrrrrry about it - 's norrrmal, yesss? We - us Tapyri, we jusss' make it, see... For the, the tem- RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Sorrrrrry, so'ry... We live near volcanos 'n' open lava pools, so the temp'raturesss would shrrrivel us up..."

"I understand... It keeps you hydrated in otherwise extreme climates."

"Uh-huh... Plus 's easierrr t' wash off the ash like that... Jusss' ssscoop it all off, and the'e, all clean like an oil'd up--" an even more powerful gurgle took over his throat, and he arched his back so much that Mata Nui had to quickly catch him with both hands before he slipped right out of his grip. Now that the Tapyri's face was in view he could note with great interest that his thin teeth were paraded in a wide trembling grin, almost clattering together, and that his eyes were squeezed shut as if he were in great pain - although the effect his expression gave off, even looking at it upside down as the fallen god was, seemed closer to exceptional enjoyment. He watched him mutter a curse under his breath before his voice raised again, slurring in bliss: "A'e you su'e you've nev'r done this beforrre? Y're good!"

"I am afraid I only have theoretical knowledge at my disposal, although in great quantities," his friend replied, a little embarrassed as he laid the other's head down onto his armored legs.

Ackar grinned a little wider as his nape touched down on something pleasantly warm: "Ahhh, booksss, booksss..." he chuckled, wriggling in place, fingers idly pulling the air in uncoordinated motions: "I g'ess they'rrre good f'r sssom'thin', eh?"

His chest jumped with a giddy silent giggle, causing his rumbling to stutter a few times.

Now that he looked at his actual arm better, Mata Nui realized that its back too sported large splatters of different pigmentation. He caught it in his free hand very carefully, turning it over to observe it better while the Glatorian simply allowed him to, maybe not even noticing: their position and shape was not as random as it appeared, but instead seemed to follow an imperfect pattern which mirrored that flanking the man's spine. A quick glance at his prosthesis revealed no such detail on the fake flesh.

Such a curious thing, he mused as he thoughtlessly played with the organic limb - pressing on its palm, lifting it, bending its elbow and wrist to watch the skin crease and muscles tense or relax. He'd seen this sort of appearance on a few creatures along his travels, usually to ward off predators by denoting some sort of poisonous nature... Perhaps the Fire tribe had evolved to secrete a type of venom mixed into their protective layer of mucus in response to threats, or it could have been a strategy of ages past that had managed to survive with each subsequent step they'd taken up their evolutionary ladder for some reason or another.

He'd never had a tongue to test the effects of different poisons personally, and while he might have had one now (though he wasn't sure, since he had not had the time to properly study or think about this body's anatomy much) he was a little uncertain on whether his friend would have appreciated having his fingers shoved in Mata Nui's mouth for the sake of scientific research.

He had come across a few sapient species that considered that a formal greeting, but he would rather not take his chances.

Maybe he could have asked later.

He felt Ackar's shoulders shift and squirm in his lap to get more comfortable, and he returned his attention to him just in time for the Tapyri to open his eyes and meet his gaze in turn.

For a small period of time they simply looked at one another. The otherworlder continued idly moving the other's limb, exercising a gentle pressure upon his palm as he shifted the arm up and down without any rhyme or reason; Ackar himself just let him do as he pleased, only blinking back at him, face stuck in a neutral expression, not making a singular attempt at stopping him.

"Oh," he spoke at last with a nervous laugh: "Well. Hello."

What a strange thing to say. Mata Nui tilted his head slightly: "Hello," he replied in tone.

"I've made myself comfortable, haven't I?"

"If you are referring to your position, I took the liberty to recline you myself in order to keep you from getting injured."

It was unclear if the information reassured the Glatorian or not, as his reaction was to widen his pupils slightly, considerably darken the skin of his nose, and only peep: "Ah."

"You were leaning rather far back. You could have fallen."

"Ah," he repeated. "Thank you, friend."

"It was my pleasure."

Ackar's nose turned a little darker again.

Mata Nui touched it thoughtlessly: its temperature had increased, he mused to himself, so perhaps blood was rushing to that specific spot for one reason or other.

"You might be building a fever," he warned.

"I do not believe I am," the Tapyri replied a little stilted, again with an embarrassed chuckle, "But thanks for worrying."

Concerns soothed, the fallen god dug a digit back in the pained spot and earned another gurgle for his good deed, which reverberated this time across the plates of his legs. He was surprised to find it caused a weird, pleasant sensation akin to a feeling he unfortunately was not sure he had a name for yet.

He returned his attention to his friend: "How is your shoulder feeling?"

Ackar had shut his eyes again, and squirmed in a sort of pleased manner: "Betterrr," he replied, growls now coming from his throat in shorter bursts. He cracked open an eyelid to look at his own arm being maneuvered by Mata Nui's hand as though it were the limb of some sort of machine, losing himself in the feeling of the armored palm and the limp movement of his own joints: "Havin' fun?"

The other followed his gaze, and instantly turned bashful: "Oh - I apologize. I was lost in thought," he whispered sheepishly, placing the limb down on the Glatorian's chest.

His friend cackled: "It's quite fine, it didn't hurt."

Another gargle rumbled through him as the last kink in his muscle was smoothed down.

Mata Nui continued massaging the spot either way, and Ackar continued quietly responding to his kindness with soft purrs; and for a short while, as the desert breathed its tired chill and the winds didn't blow any sand into their eyes or noses or mouths, they simply remained quiet.

Fingertips ran across his arm softly, slowly.

If he concentrated enough he could hear how the barely perceptible sound them scraping the mucus off of one another.

It was terribly comfortable.

Terribly soothing...

A soft monotone stirred him from the torpor he was falling into: "In truth, I was quite taken with your skin's markings."

Without opening his eyes, Ackar turned his head: "Hm?"

"These," his friend explained. He felt him trace an unclear shape on his forearm a few times, gently: "You present an irregular pattern of noticeably different pigmentation both here and on your back. The closest condition I could try to compare it to would be vitiligo, but it does not appear to be anything like it."

The Glatorian hummed softly: "Oh, we just have them... They're common, to us Tapyri. Splatters, spots, dots... Various colors, too..."

"How curious," the otherworlder murmured. He moved from one spot to the other seamlessly, following their borders. "Poisonous creatures often advertise their toxicity to potential predators through similar visual cues."

"Is that so..."

"Perhaps you too have some."

Ackar chuckled as he humored him: "Perhaps I do, who knows!"

"Like a salamander."

"And what is that?"

"It is a term that indicates a family of small amphibians of which many species contain a potent poison within their mucus-covered skin. Their appearance is quite similar to that of lizards, so they are often mistaken for reptiles despite their lack of scales. Land-dwelling turtles often incur into a similar yet opposite misconception, being believed to be amphibians when they are not."

"Hm. And their poison, what does it do?"

"It is deadly in exceptionally small doses and can affect the victim by means of contact with bruised skin, ingestion, inhalation, and injection."

"Oh, I'd like that."

"You would?"

"Yeah, why not? First sand bat to swallow me whole gets a nice surprise, and I take that bastard down with me."

He laughed softly, reclining his head further into Mata Nui's lap.

His yellowish eyes looked up again curved into half moons, meeting the fallen god's own with a lopsided grin: "That'd be a nice little consolation at least, wouldn't you think?"

His friend's glowing irises looked back down at him with a sort of vacuous glimmer.

They were a very nice blue.

The otherworlder's hands were heavily segmented, each articulation encased in a golden shell fitting perfectly against the others. It was really curious how he'd never noticed that until he had his cheeks cradled into one of those palms, weirdly coarse and warm like sand.

Mata Nui looked directly into his eyes: "You are so deeply interesting," he said with such earnest awe.

He sounded so starstruck - he was so starstruck, staring at the Glatorian utterly entranced as though he was marveling at the sight of in the most incredible discovery of this age.

"If the circumstances of our meeting had been different, less wrecked with quests and worries," the fallen god continued, speaking awfully softly as he returned his mellow grip to the Tapyri's hand and began shifting his arm around aimlessly again, to feel the shift of muscle and skin and mucus, "I would have loved to simply watch you live for weeks on end. To take note of your speech patterns, your specific anatomy, how your body moves, how it reacts to stimuli..."

"That," Ackar murmured, breathless: "Is a bit forward - isn't it?"

His friend leaned his head to the side ever so slightly, not blinking.

"At least you should first..."

He choked on his own breath very briefly; he shut his eyes with a little bewildered wheeze and smacked his palm on his face.

Great Beings.

That could have been incredibly awkward.

Mata Nui, who was still holding onto his hand waiting for an elaboration with a fair share of interest on the matter, decided the necessary amount of time for an explanation's request to be polite had passed and curteously encouraged him: "Do continue. I would like to know the proper steps to follow."

But the Glatorian shook his head with a breathy cackle: "Don't- it's nothing, don't think about it. I'm very tired and talking stupid."

"I apologize. I should let you rest, then."

"Oh, no, if you - if you want to talk about something, it's fine."

A surge of warmth radiated from the carapaced fingers wrapped around his hand: "It would not bother you?"

"No, no... You've got a soothing voice really, so it wouldn't... I don't know how long I can listen to you consciously, but if you'd just keep telling me about... Oh, I don't know..."

"Would you like me to continue with the salamanders?"

Oh, he knew that little wiggle that had just shaken his friend's legs. It was the same as Kiina's flapping knees while sitting crosslegged, Gresh's one-handed claps and the weird little laugh Berix sputtered when he saw something he liked way too much.

Mata Nui really wanted to tell him more about those beasties.

Maybe he was excited about the similarities he'd found between them and the Tapyri. Or maybe he just liked talking - he'd always seemed awfully happy rambling to Kiina.

Either way, the little terrors had already gotten in his good graces with their poison, so why not learn more about them?

"I reckon I would," he smiled.

His arm was lifted again, and he could now see the excitement in his friend's eyes: "It would be my pleasure," he assured him. He leaned a little further down, closer to his face: "What would you like for me to start with?"

The Glatorian twisted his mouth for a moment: "To start, to start... The legs, let's go with those. How many do they have?

"They tend to have four limbs, two front and two hind, although certain species completely lack the latter," Mata Nui began without missing a beat: "The number of toes is also variable, but never exceeds four on the front and five on the rear. A rather incredible ability the entire salamander genus can vaunt is that of fully regenerating entire limbs without any trace of scarring."

Ackar hummed, amused, and moved his lone shoulder blade as though its arm was still attached: "That's a real good one, I'll say... Don't quite get the lack of back legs, though."

"Specimens that showcase such a peculiar characteristic tend to be fully aquatic throughout their entire lifetime, so perhaps an additional pair of limbs were considered more superflous to them than they were to other species that maintain an amphibious existence or even turn completely terrestrial upon reaching adulthood - though still favoring damp, cool habitats due to their permeable skin, preferrably near water." the otherworlder explained. Then, as though remembering it suddenly, he added in a slightly humored tone: "Sapient inhabitants of the planet on which I observed these creatures most often associate them to fire, particularly to the ability to resist it unharmed or putting it out entirely. A misconception created by the salamanders' habit of making their nests in rotting logs, from which they would flee when they were placed in the fire, also led to the belief that they were born from flames."

Something else they had in common with Tapyri...

One of their oldest tales, a myth to tell children - they were the spawn of embers, born from ashes still warm of extinguished bonfires, from the glowing rivers trickling down the sides of volcanoes...

Ackar squeezed his eyes hard and forced himself concious. A small sigh escaped him: he was already fighting a losing battle with his eyelids to keep them open, lulled into a thoughtless state by Mata Nui's excited monotone gently and eagerly pouring as much information as he could into his head.

His throat rumbled weakly, its grumbles vibrating against the equally pleased lap wiggling beneath his head - oh, if he could stay awake a little more, just a little more...

"Their diet tends to vary based on their environment and size, but they are known to eat anything the deem large enough," Mata Nui kept going softly, stroking the Glatorian's hand with his thumb: "Among their most common preys are insects such as flies, beetles, cicadellidae, moths, caeliferae and aquatic bugs, arachnids such as mites and spiders, earthworms, hexapods, and various larvae, while larger species may also hunt crabs, small mammals, fish, and other amphibians; in case of particularly scarce resources they might also resort to cannibalizing other salamanders, something that often happens between young specimens. Their jaws have each a row of small teeth capable of bending inward to keep the prey from escaping, sometimes helped by patches of teeth found on their palatine bones and vomer as well to better hold it down - aquatic specimens rely on them to macerate and tear the prey, as their tongues lack muscles and cannot be flicked out to catch food in the way their terrestrial counterparts' can. This is made possible by their ability to secrete a sticky mucus from glands positioned on the roof of their mouth and the tip of the tongue itself..."

And he continued talking for a good couple of hours, droning in the night with his quiet excitement without worrying too much about Ackar's silent snoring adding itself to the sound of Kiina, Gresh and Berix, simply happy to listen to them breathe and live around him and talk, talk, talk about all the marvelous things he'd loved alone until now.

[oneforthemunny]

a teeny tiny modern!eddie blurb i had rattling around my noggin. loosely based on real events (my ex is a pos and modern!eddie is an angel lol), but made me giggle when i thought about it. kinda smutty but nothing graphic more-so just alluded to. enjoy <3

“Hey, pretty girl.” Eddie grinned, half-lidded hazy eyes lighting up when you walked through the door. 

“Hi,” You mumbled, hip bumping the door to push it closed, shoulders heavy after the exhaustion of the day. 

“Did you have a good day?” Eddie chirped, flicking his mic up on his headset, pulling it off his messy curls. “Sell lots?” 

You snorted lightly, purse sliding off your shoulder onto the coffee table. “Oh, yeah. Dealt with ten year olds wanting foundation matches all day.” 

“Ten?” Eddie frowned. “Can ten year olds even wear makeup?” 

“Apparently they can. And they’re very particular.” You rolled your eyes, rubbing out the growing knot in your shoulder that was beginning to ache. “Did you empty the dishes?” 

“Yep.” Eddie nodded. “Loaded them up for you too, baby. Got you another one of those candles you like. Your stash was runnin’ low.” He smiled proudly. 

Your lips twitched, trying to fight back your own flustered grin. It did make your heart flutter, Eddie always did. “Thank you.” You muttered instead. “I’ve gotta get out of these clothes, and I’ll-” You started to lean over the couch, lips hovering over Eddie’s, his parting lightly to fit yours before you stopped. Halted by a familiar smell. 

“What- What’s that smell?” You sniffed, turning in the air before your nose found the source. “Are you- Why do you smell like that?” 

“Shit, is it bad?” Eddie tugged at his t-shirt, nose pressing towards the underarms of his shirt. “I took a shower today, but then I had to meet up with some people. I didn’t think it was bad-” 

“-No, it’s not that.” You snapped, eyes narrowing down at him. “Why do you smell like Bum-Bum Cream?” 

Eddie paused, blinking at you. “Bum-Bum?” He repeated, brows lifting. “Is this a joke? Like Up-Dog-” 

“-Eddie,” You huffed. “Don’t fuck with me right now. What? Did you have another bitch here?” Your teeth gritted, gaze flickering in seething fury around the apartment for anything- any sign of infidelity. 

“What?” Eddie gaped, turning to look at you. “No, c’mon, you know I wouldn’t do that-” 

“-Then why do you smell like that?” You screeched, throwing an arm out at him. 

“Smell like what?” Eddie countered, voice raising in defense. 

“The most recognizable smell in the world? You couldn’t tell your bitch not to wear that-” You smacked the door to your shared bedroom open, halting in the doorway. 

“I didn’t fuck anyone!” Eddie followed, throwing his hands up. “Why do you always start this shit? I’ve never-” 

Your eyes narrowed, stomping towards the bedside table. There, on Eddie’s side, amongst the phone chargers and empty carts sat a box of tissues next to the familiar yellow tub of cream. Half screwed on, greasy on the lid- recently used. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You huffed, snatching the jar, grimacing at the slick, greasy substance still left on the lid. Pivoting, you turned to Eddie, hoisting the jar towards him. 

Eddie blinked. “What?” 

“This is what I’m smelling.” You snapped. “This is Bum-Bum Cream. My Bum-Bum Cream.” You jabbed a manicured nail onto the logo. 

“Oh,” Eddie quipped. “Yeah, I did use that.” 

“Used it?” You growled. “You used my fucking expensive lotion to jack off?” 

Eddie’s cheeks tinged with pink embarrassment, eyes wide and round like a child caught, still with some mischief that made your skin crawl with irritation. “Well,” He started. 

“Well?” You gawked at him. “Eddie, this is- You can’t use this!” You unscrewed the lid, mouth falling open at the large scoop that was now missing from the middle. “Are you- Do you know how expensive this is?” 

“No.” Eddie admitted, swallowing a smile. “I just thought it was lotion-” 

“-You have lotion!” You snapped. “You have your Nivea or whatever-” 

“-I ran out!” 

“So you use this? My lotion? My expensive lotion?” You growl. “How- How does this not burn your dick off? It’s a fucking fragranced lotion.” 

Eddie shrugged, lips curling in a shit eating grin. “It felt kinda nice, actually.” 

Your nose curled in disgust. “You’re fucking sick, and you’re buying me a new one.” 

“Fine.” Eddie’s hands slid down your arms gently. “I’ll buy you a new one. I swear. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I couldn’t use that one.” 

“Don’t use any of my lotions to jack off.” You glared at him. “And put it back when you’re done.” You shove the lotion back at him. 

“Alright, alright, hey- look at me, baby, please?” Eddie cooed, lips still curled with a smile you wanted to smack off his face, nerves rattled with annoyance. You glared at him, shoving your work jeans down with a huff, not missing the way Eddie’s eyes lingered. 

“I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to. I’ll buy you a new one. We can go right now if you want.” He muttered sweetly, his soft tone making your heart swell. 

“No, it’s fine.” You huff, rolling your eyes, pulling your top off. “We can go later. Just don’t do it again.” 

“I won’t.” Eddie lifted his hands playfully. He waited a second, turning the yellow tub around in his hands. “It is good stuff though. Can see why you like it so much-” He dodged your balled up shirt you flung at him with a loud cackle, scampering to the bathroom to put it back on the counter.

also this is the lotion / sol de janerio's bum bum cream referenced lol. a very canon event i fear. hope you enjoyed!

[kunasthiast]

My God (1)

In the world of the Yakuzas, women are always on the sidelines and that's what you ought to change. But when your father chose Sukuna instead of you, that's when you know that you need to carve your own path.

But with Sukuna leading the family, how are you gonna get away? And, fuck the pterodactyls in your stomach!

I've always wanted to write a Yakuza!Au with Sukuna and I'm doing it now OTL I plan on making this as a series. This is different from 'Fortnight'. I will be updating this with a link to the masterpost of this au which will include its chapters, spin-offs, and drabbles in the future!

Updates will be once a week and since I'm excited about this, I might upload updates twice a week <333

Hope you'll enjoy this one ~

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + angst, Yakuza AU, Enemies to Lovers Word Count: 1,525 All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The pouring rain outside has been the source of calmness for you. You’ve always loved the rain, the thundering clap of thunders, and the violent winds. It’s calming for you. As the rain cascaded down your bedroom window, you’re getting ready for the urgent meeting your father has arranged for tonight. 

He’s never arranged a meeting this late, you somberly thought. Knocks were heard from your door. 

“Come out now, darling. Everyone’s waiting.” It’s your father. 

“Coming!” You glanced one final look at your vanity mirror and stood up to shake off your dress. Walking towards the door, you sighed and couldn’t help but feel a pang of apprehension. This is nerve-wracking. 

You opened the door to find your father waiting for you. He never fails to give off his presence which commands respect, authority, and intimidation. 

Even in the privacy of your own home. His eyes softened by the slightest hint of weariness when he looked at you. His tall and imposing figure still left no room for doubt of power. He’s wearing his most expensive tailored suit, impeccably pressed despite the late hour. He has to, being the family boss of the clan. And you know this suit, you had it made for him as a gift for his 70th birthday. This made you smile a bit while looking down. 

“Let’s go.” He called with his voice carrying a note of urgency. Definitely matches the severity of the storm outside.

You nodded in response, steeling yourself for the impending meeting just beyond the corridor. Despite the facade of the intimidating and powerful aura he projected, there was the weight of responsibility that burdened him. You know it all too well. 

The unspoken sacrifices he made for the sake of his family and clan. Yet, you never felt who is his family. With the way things are and have been, all he did shaped your upbringing and eventually molded you into the formidable woman you had become.

With a deep breath, you followed him down the dimly lit corridor. Tumultuous thoughts swirled in your mind but everything’s getting rained down thanks to the comforting sound outside. 

—

Walking into the room, you saw everyone important in the clan. From your father to his assistant and lieutenants, with you as the only woman in the room. This meeting must be of utmost importance if all key figures of the clan are here. 

As your father walked towards his seat at the head of the table, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and nervousness. The tables are laid out with expensive tea cups and teapots for everyone. As your father sat down, your heartbeat quickened with the room growing quiet around you. You find yourself seated next to him at a reasonable distance, being just the one and only daughter of the boss.

Your father’s presence commanded respect, with his assistant and lieutenants expressing a mix of deference and readiness to hear whatever he had to say.

Scanning the room, you caught the eye of your father’s most trusted person, Sukuna. His right-hand man. The one who always does his bidding, from the legal side to the dirty side of everything. 

Sukuna always looks imposing with his piercing gaze and confident, intimidating demeanor. He’s scarier than father. His face tattoos compliment his tousled pink hair, which by the way makes him look sexier than ever. He’s wearing a white button-up with rolled-up sleeves, accentuating his muscles and some of his tattoos peeking through. 

You’ve always had a secret attraction towards him. The secret glances every time he’s in a room with you. The fucking pterodactyls with their intense fluttering in your stomach. Feeling your gaze upon him, he looked towards you with a smirk which made you shift your eyes toward your father as he began to talk.

“I’ve called you all for an important matter that needs urgent attention.” Hearing this made your heart pound with a tingling sensation to fidget your fingers, below the eyes of everyone but you. 

“It’s time for a new era.” Your father declared. “And I have chosen Sukuna to lead us into it.”

As your father’s words hung heavy in the air, a wave of shock rippled through the room, followed by the hushed silence and just the sound of rain. Suddenly, the rain doesn’t feel as calm anymore. It feels suffocating and unsettling. This is not the calm you’ve always loved.

What's more, you can’t believe everything your father just said. He’s chosen Sukuna to lead the clan into a new era. He passed over you, his own daughter, for the family succession.

A swarm of emotions swirled in your mind — disbelief, doubt, confusion, shock, anger, and a bitter sense of betrayal. How could your father overlook you, his direct heir, in favor of Sukuna? You furrow your eyebrows as you continue to process this news.

Across the room, Sukuna stood up from his seat with a calm demeanor and a tattooed smirk on his face that spoke volumes. He looked at everyone with intensity and his eyes gleamed with triumph, ending up meeting your gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. 

As everyone processed this new change, all key figures gave their respect and support to Sukuna. Amid the collective acknowledgment, you felt a profound sense of betrayal by your own father. Your dreams, the cornerstone of your existence crumbled like fragile glass under the weight of this revelation. 

From the fluttering pterodactyls in your stomach, a tide of anger surged through your veins, drowning out any semblance of affection towards Sukuna. And your deepest regards to your father, once a sturdy pillar of respect and trust, crumbled like ancient ruins replaced by a bitter taste of betrayal, doubt, and hurt.

Sukuna walked towards your father, who welcomed him with a tight hug. And as the storm raged outside, so did the storm within your heart.

Your father continued to speak, outlining his reasons why he chose Sukuna. You can’t hear anything anymore. The thundering claps and violent rain drown out everything. The room seemed to spin around you, the expensive tea cups and teapots on the table, all the lieutenants, your father, and Sukuna blurred into a haze as you grappled with what was happening.

This couldn’t be real.

—

As you retreated to the solace of your room, the events of this night continued to replay in your mind like a broken record. The fake smiles, the hollow congratulations, the sense of betrayal that hung heavy in the air – it was all too much to bear.

With trembling hands, you reached for the bottle of champagne you grabbed from the pantry earlier, the cool glass offering a welcome respite from the storm raging both outside and within. You walked towards your bathroom with the bottle.

Standing before the mirror, your reflection seemed to mock the turmoil raging within you. As you stared into your own eyes, the facade of composure you had worn for so long began to crumble, revealing the raw emotions simmering beneath the surface.

At that moment, you made a choice — to reject the false comforts of that alcohol or face the harsh reality of your situation head-on. With a determined flick of your wrist, you poured the champagne down the drain, soullessly watching the golden liquid disappear.

The weight of expectation had always rested heavily on your shoulders, a burden you bore with a mixture of pride and determination. As the family boss's only daughter, you had been groomed from a young age to inherit the mantle of leadership, carry on the legacy of your forefathers, and guide the family into a new era.

Your father had promised you that one day you would lead the family, that you would shatter the traditions that had long relegated women to the sidelines of power and influence. It was a dream he had instilled in you from the moment you were old enough to understand, a promise that had fueled your ambition and shaped your identity.

You had immersed yourself in every aspect of the family business, from the legal intricacies of corporate dealings to the ruthless strategies of the underworld. You had learned to navigate the murky waters of power and politics, to command respect and fear in equal measure.

But now, as you stood on the precipice of your destiny, that dream lay shattered at your feet. Your father's decision to pass over you in favor of Sukuna had blindsided you.

You couldn't understand how he could break his promise, how he could deny you the opportunity to fulfill your rightful destiny. The traditions that had long bound women to the sidelines of power seemed more entrenched than ever, casting a shadow over your hopes and aspirations.

“This is fucking bullshit! I won’t be cast aside like this,” you declare, facing the mirror with a steely resolve. You threw the empty bottle at the room with all the strength you could muster, the release of pent-up anger, frustration, all the emotions you felt tonight washing over you like a tidal wave.

Fuck it. Fuck Sukuna. Fuck father. Fuck everything.

[aeomianamoure]

— emo camboy beomgyu!

warnings <3: !broke yandere beomgyu who camboys only to spoil you ): </3 ,, !reader ties a pink bow on her big imitating bf (beomgyu) and he uses it for work (you’ll get what i meannn), established relationship between beomgyu n the reader, !death, !mentions of fatal smut, really just fluff

a/n <3: creds to @hanjisluvr ily mwah :D

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who felt like shit because he couldn’t spoil you much anymore ever since he lost his job. forcing you both to downsize in housing and basically dropping out of college

!broke yandere emo beomgyu whose heart would melt when you picked up a second job to support you both; you working at a bakery and a book store

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who still couldn’t find a job for some reason and finally decided to set up an only fans and you barely being home because of work he didn’t worry about you finding out

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who always felt guilty after each live stream; feeling like he cheated on you each time he showed himself getting off during a livestream

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who was fucking mean to his viewers; calling them worthless and pathetic grinning sickly each time he received donations thinking about all the teddy bears he could get you now ):

!broke yandere emo beomgyu whose heart would break each time you’d come home with your feet all sore to due to work ): offering you feet massages as he shushed your cries of pain

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who had enough of seeing you come home all tired and in pain; forcing you to quit when he noticed you crying at how mean your boss was to you during your most recent shift

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who made you rest the next following day, tucking you in your newly bought pink bed sheets with your favorite sanrio plushie lying to you saying he had gotten you the bedsheets weeks before he lost his old job

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who marched over to your bosses house; finding out where he lived and even going as far as copying his house keys with a baseball bat in his hands

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who was too angry to actually talk to your boss, grabbing his bat he blew a strike down the older man’s head repeatedly sighing to himself as he pondered on what to do with the now dead body

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who would come home to you after getting rid of the body of the person he beat to death like if it was nothing all before stealing flowers from his victims garden planning on giving them to you thanking god he hadn’t gotten too dirty

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who would smile at your constant thanking him for the flowers with gifting him your favorite pink ribbon tying it on his wrists thinking it was cute considering your boyfriend was big and imitating and wouldn’t be caught dead wearing one

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who would wear the ribbon around his neck like a choker in his live streams to show that he was happily taken :( bringing up how he had a girlfriend each time he cummed on camera without revealing your actually name of course

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who would lie about his source of income to you; saying he had gotten a really good job at some type of company leaving for hours at a time just doing live streams and ranking up a bunch in donations but always made sure to come home with gifts you’d like ):

!broke yandere emo beomgyu who didn’t mind taking care of you and you being a stay at home girlfriend with no actual duties he preferred you at home like some type of princess trapped in a tall tower anyway <3

a/n <3: i pray my ex gets beat with a baseball bat amen 🙏

[wtfsteveharrington]

I need a just the tip smut with richie jerimovich

a/n: richie my beloved <3 thank you for requesting!!

contents: richie's a menace and badgering the reader in a playful way, unprotected p in v, fingering, semi public (we all love that damn office), reader referred to as princess once. when i say this is a quickie i mean it!

word count: 1,420 (lol)

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

Richie annoyed you - A lot. Constantly annoyed you in fact!

And things haven’t improved since you made out with in the heat of the moment a few months ago. Arguing outside the restaurant after a particularly rough dinner service. He blamed the way you ran front of house, you blamed him for sending table 18’s second course to table 31 (which he promises he didn’t do) and throwing off the flow of the kitchen.

There was a moment when the arguing turned to silence and the two of you staring at each other. Both trying to read the moment. You still don't know who moved first but it was passionate, sloppy, and seared into your memory.

Thus began a mess of touching and kissing when you shouldn't be. It hadn't gone all the way yet, much to Richie's dismay. The closest he got was eating you out in the backseat of his car which you promptly left after you finished and flipped him off as you skipped to your own car. Richie had to drive home hard and annoyed and teasingly gave you a cold shoulder the next day but you'd catch a wicked grin on his face whenever he turned away from you. Both of you loved this game.

You secretly loved the power it gave you when he'd beg and whine and grab any inch of skin you'd let him. Rutting himself against you, shamelessly needy. You made him feel like a teenager again. Stuck with the urge to fold his pillow around his length and fuck into it to get some source of friction besides his hand. It made him feel pathetic and you feel pride.

He loved it too, don't let him lie to you.

That's how you found yourself in the nice office, hips pressed against the edge of the desk while Richie stood behind you. His hands were cupping your breasts over your shirt, savoring the weight of them in his hands while he grinds against your ass. You, on the other hand, try to act unbothered while you look over paperwork even if the both of you know it's getting to you. Thighs turning slick and warm and God he feels good.

“C’mon, Babe. My dick is fuckin’ rock solid. Help me out, yeah? Don’t you want me focused for tonight or are you really gonna let everyone drown because you won’t help take care of ole Richie?” He’s grabbing a hold of the hem of your skirt, pushing it up at your waist and admiring the way your ass looked covered in some white lacey number you totally didn’t buy with the hopes of him seeing it.

You huff and pretend to be inconvenienced but you're reaching the end of your resolve too. Letting go of the papers you were hyper focused on and instead sliding your hands around your body and pulling your underwear to the side so he, finally, has access to you. There's a loud, drawn out groan coming from the man behind you which has you whipping your head around with a sharp, "Shut the fuck up, Richie."

He's looking up at you now and innocently holds his hands up in the air as an apology. There's wicked smirk as one of his hands come down to trace over your core. A rough finger dragging along the folds, bumping your clit before he presses two into you. "Knew you wanted me too, Princess." You can't help but roll your eyes, still adjusting your position on the desk so you're better able to arch your ass back towards him. "Just the tip."

Richie's motions stall, brows knitting together. "You fuckin' serious?" Which makes you laugh while you roll your hips back, chasing your own pleasure by using his hand that's still against your warm core. "Serious. Now - Just the tip and hurry up before we get caught. Think I'd die if anyone knew I was letting you fuck me raw in here."

His hand slides out of you and delivers a sharp smack to your pussy before he's taking your command and making quick work of his pants. Fine, if you wanted to play this game still he'd make sure to drive you just as insane as you were driving him.

You feel the head of his cock tapping against you now, teasing the both of you by rocking himself against your clit. "You're tryna give me shit but you're this fuckin' wet? Bent over the desk and begging. Play tough all you want but you need me."

"Jesus Christ, Richie. Are you gonna keep running your mouth or fin- Oh!" He's cutting you off as you feel him push into you. The head of his cock barely tucked between your folds as you both adjust to the sensation. He's giving you a second before pushing in another in, letting the tip of him rest snug inside of you.

Richie's rubbing his hands over your ass, the texture difference between your smooth skin and the lace of your underwear driving him crazy. Fine, maybe he was clowning you at first but there's something so... Intimate about this. Or maybe you just already had him whipped and he was hopeless.

He's fucking into you just barely, fully content to play along if that’s what it took to finally find himself inside of you.

There’s a pounding on the door snapping you both out of it. Richie’s startled and accidentally sinking a few more inches into you, both of you fighting every urge to moan. “Dinner service starts in twenty! Finish up your paperwork and get out here!”

You're in the clear. No door handle jiggling, no one barging in.

Everyone knew you took some time right before dinner to ensure there were no missed allergies, reservations, and nothing running short. Everyone knew Richie would take off his suit jacket so it didn't smell like smoke before taking a few minutes out back to burn through some cig's. Splashing on cologne from his car before coming back in. They all probably assumed he was somewhere in that circuit out back.

But yet, here you two actually were.

The two of you stand there, still connected, in silence for a moment. Making sure the coast is clear before continuing this already risky game. Once a few seconds have passed, neither of you know quite what to do.

So you take the initiative.

Rolling your hips back and fucking yourself on the few inches Richie has managed to sink into you. His hands are on your ass now, pulling it apart so he can get a better look at the head of his cock slowly pushing in and out of you. Neither of you dare make too loud of a sound.

Your head falls forward, pressing your mouth against your upper arm to muffle any sounds that threaten to slip out when Richie pulls all the way back just to resink himself halfway in. It's a quick motion but the sound of him just barely gliding through your wetness was sinful. Richie's torn between throwing his head back and savoring the sensation or focusing on what's happening right in front of him, "Fuck you, gonna make me come like this." He's squeezing at the handfuls of your ass, fighting the urge to bury himself completely but knows that isn't your game for now.

You can feel his resolve breaking so you decide to prolong this game. Giving him a squeeze of your muscles around his cock before leaning all the way forward so Richie has to slide out of you. His jaw goes slack and you hear a breathless whine from behind you as he instantly wraps a fist around himself to keep the feeling going. Your underwear are getting put back in place, skirt being folded down as you grab a towel from the pile of clean laundry in the corner of the office and hand it to him with a smirk. "Use this to finish in, don't make a mess of your suit."

Richie can't decide if he loathes you or wants to kiss the ground you walk on. You lean up, letting your lips work his jaw for a moment as you feel the head of his cock press against your thigh while he continues to jack himself off. "Don't fuck up tonight and I'll let you come home with me."

You pull back, throwing him a wink before sneaking out of the office door to go clean yourself up before dinner service. Leaving Richie standing there fucking himself into a rag and laughing at the mess you've made of him.

[mr-fear]

🫧 Obihoe Art Trade 🫧

This is my part of an art trade I made for Tobi estey ( https://www.tumblr.com/toebixar?source=share ) (I can't fucking tag them on here??? Whatever-) on Insta. It's their modern KKObi au and I thought it was adorable.

The above image is devoted to the rest of the Obihoes. There's a horrific group chat out there devoted to Obito, and if you're in it, you know. I hope all of you find salvation, because simply being you and acting up over Obito the way you do.. is horrific. Please go to therapy. I need it because of you. Please end my suffering.

[crappymixtape]

because of you • ( pt. vi teaser )

TEASER for part VI of because of you // one last lil taste of this cos my book deadline is up on the 9th and then after that? YOU AND STEVE ARE GONNA FUCK UP THE UPSIDE DOWN ( and then fuck each other ) – okay love you bye! // ENEMIES -> LOVERS, STEVE x READER

Steve started up again at your feet. Skipped over the bruises on your shins and the angry-looking scrape on your left knee and as he gently shifted you to reach your upper leg, the water running off your body turned bright red.

“Oh shit..." he breathed, a deep frown pulling at his features as his eyes frantically searched for the source, worry tugging at the pit of his stomach. Where was it coming from?

And then he finally saw it. The nasty gash on your thigh courtesy of a demobat that had dragged a claw down through your skin. “Christ,” he hissed under his breath, moving to let the water run over it, “We gotta clean this–”

“Fuck, Steve–” you choked out, the pain in your leg white hot as you pressed a hand heavy into his before he could use the washcloth. “It hurts,” you half-sobbed and he quickly blocked the shower with his back again.

“Shit–I’m sorry–dammit–” a string of curses fell from his lips as he leaned closer to get a better look.

The few seconds of water had done a good job of cleaning it up, but he could see now how deep it was. Probably needed stitches, just like his stomach would, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a minute.

It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be okay.

Pulling in a deep breath he went to the place in his mind he knew all too well. The one where he closed out the sick feeling of worry blooming in his chest, the thoughts of 'what if' that didn't end nicely and hardened against it all so that he could do what he needed to keep you safe.

“Alright, princess,” he reached over his shoulder and turned off the tap, then looked back up at you, still on his knees. “I gotta get you out and dried off, okay? Get this fixed up,” he said, nodding at your leg, “Will you let me do that?”

A soft scowl pulled at your features and it almost made him smile – how pretty you were even when you were mad. Even like this.

“I don’t think you’re gonna give me a choice,” you tried to snark around the sob in your throat and that finally cracked a tiny grin on his face.

“I’m not,” he gently agreed and with that you let him lift you from the seat. Let his hands, warm and wide at your waist, guide you from the shower and wrap a towel around your tired body.

[veggiecorner]

Honestly, I think that guy is just really autistic... and I say this as an autistic person. He obviously has no filter at all. I wish he would stop tagging people all the time and starting things constantly under every single post. There will never be the hard confirmation he wants, like you say totk and ss is as far as it will probably ever go.

Like, I really can't see them *ever* doing more than the strong subtext they put in totk. I'd be surprised if they even get *close* to doing something similar again. Having the princess move into his house and having Link bridal carry her shirtless, etc, was already honestly kind of explicit by E for Everyone Nintendo standards lol. I never even expected them to go so far with it. I expected them to have destroyed the hateno house with sky island debris, or had her live with Impa, or something like that. I wasn't expecting straight up fanservice for all the post-botw fanfiction and fanart made over the years. Someone on the development team was clearly browsing zelink on pixiv (well, some old totk interview even said that the team loved all the botw fanart and it kept them going through totk's development, so I'm like 99% sure that's actually true even lol). But they'll never just come out and say "this is canon" straight up into the camera and we need to accept that.

Honestly, I'm guessing they will probably make the next zelink more platonic if anything after how much they pushed them with ss and botw/totk. I'm a huge romantic zelink lover, botw/totk zelink is my favorite, but I honestly *want* the next versions to be platonic so that there is an actual contrast between versions of them between games (and ok, maybe part of me selfishly doesn't want my beloved enemies-ish-to-lovers tragic royalty x servant to domestic fluff zelink to be upstaged by a zelink that acts obnoxiously less subtle with their feelings and therefore have people call them "better" but that's irrelevant)

I haven't honestly looked into his account - but tbh he's not the only one? I just notice it with him a lot and i'm like "please please separate Zelda from shipping. u can appreciate Princess Zelda outside of her theorized relationship with Link" (this is more of like...a dig at people in general who make shipping be everything when it comes to a character..especially female characters because now I'm struggling to still do a deep dive into Mipha's character without people immediately screaming about how her relationship with link is canon)

anyways fandom behavior aside lowkey i agree? The thing is that even if developers came out and was like "We intended zelink to be canon" people are still gonna argue about it (like "wELL THEY DIDN'T HUG OR KISS ON SCREEN") so tbh its not even worth fighting about it - coming from a fire emblem fan lmao yes I still remember the sumia incident

I lowkey want the next "zelink" to be platonic because...idk the same reason as you. Changing it up. I miss WW zelda and Link's dynamic because to me they're besties and are goofy. if the next one is romantic then they better get a hell of a good story because they already covered the childhood romance and the dramatic slowburn with skyward sword and botw/totk (and tragic "what ifs" from OoT but you didn't hear it from me!!!!!). That being said I would be disappointed if it was on the level of Twilight Princess so idk some sort of connection between them would be nice

[magpie-trinkets]

continuing that "maya tries to contact claire" post, i present you the post-Spirit of Justice follow-up

[greenflamethegf]

IT department is such a sausage party, that even the girls have dicks in there

[qcomicsy]

I am in my angst today so I'm going to drop a few of ansty Batfam headcannons.

- Bruce till this day do that father thing of open the door of his kids room to see if they're sleeping and then closing (even when they're just visiting).

- The first time he did that to Tim, Tim pretended to be asleep and then he just started sobbing because Jack used to do the same thing too, and his mother before him.

- Dick, when he moved out of the manor, still would use the Batcomputer to do research from time to time. Everytime he slept on from tiredness he would woke up with Batman's cape on his shoulders.

- No one knows Bruce has a good singing voice other than Dick and Jason because he would sing to their sleep, sometimes, when they had nightmares.

- He stopped singing when Jason died. The only person who was able to hear him sing again was Damian. He pretended to be asleep, because if he opened his eyes he would noticed how much he misses his mother.

- Jason singed to Damian sleep once at the league. None of them remember that.

- Damian tries constantly to assure himself that he could take down every member of his family if he needed to. Deep down he knows he can't.

- Bruce spent weeks trying to master how to cut someone's hair ( with Alfred's help ) so he could give Dick a haircut, because Dick said to him that his mother used to cut his hair.

- Bruce taught every single one of his sons how to shave their beard.

- Bruce had a mental breakdown once because he was starting to forget his mother's face.

- Cass overanalyze everyone's body language to see if they're healthy and happy. She tries to stop herself sometimes because more often the answer is no.

- Sometimes Tim flinches when Jason moves to fast near him. They never talked about that out loud.

- Sometimes Damian's hand tremble when he grabs his sword, he can still feel the blade.

- In one of Dick's worst fights with Redhood the moment he got home he threw up. His brother's eyes used to be blue like his and not green.

- There was a time where Jason was so happy that Bruce's blue eyes were the same shade of his.

- Bruce's hands still tremble when he sees his children on the battlefield.

- Bruce has a habit of messing with his children's hair, every single one of them picked the same habit after him.

- When Dick moved out to the Titans Bruce couldn't sleep for weeks.

- Jason avoids to change clothes in front of his brothers because of the face Dick made when he saw his autopsy scars for the first time.

- One time Jason had a panic attack and misdialed Tim's number, Tim stayed on the line until Jason managed to sleep.

- There's times where Bruce says the word Robin and all of them look at him.

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[muckyschmuck]

beep boop nya