#richie queue know i...i...

[riptozier]

@eddiethekaspbrak said: ❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✘ . *. ⋆ THEY HAD TO HAVE MOMENTARILY STEPPED INTO AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. there was no way eddie kaspbrak himself had just called him that. richie , the guy who always got on his nerves and messed with him even when he really didn't deserve it , was pretty to him? where did that come from? since when did eddie think of richie THAT WAY? through the slew of questions that rushed through his mind , he couldn't deny the rush of warmth the words brought him.

to hide flustered features , he smirked and brought his hands to his cheeks. ❝ aww , you think i'm pretty , eddie-spaghetti? ❞ he teased in a silly voice. he hoped the stupid impression would make him laugh to temporarily relieve them both of EMBARRASSMENT , at least a little bit.

AN ASSORTMENT OF DIALOGUE PROMPTS .

[meltedfuckingmarshmallow]

i have this banger idea for a richie-centric fic i just don’t feel like writing it

[tvsglow]

" seems like we're gonna be here all night , cleaning up after him . "

billie's sighing , not because they're upset at carmy's mess , but because they weren't fully expecting to see him like this , hurt - throwing shit around as if he's some kid that got refused attention or something , it's worse than his usual shit , that's for sure . it's funny how they're trying to be calm in this situation , however , they can't . solely because every part of them feels bad for watching this whole thing unfold , not being able to do a damn thing about it & they want to , at least .

to make him feel better - to show him that he's not alone in what he's feeling because they lost sydney too , just like everyone else did . he's not the only one & as much as it stings , they're all trying their best to move on , even if it hurts to do it . eyes widening as they're watching carmy come face to face with richie ( ... ) another flinch of their body as they're noticing the other's fists in the air , swallowing yet another dry lump in their throat as they're attempting to calm themselves down .

sure , richie's an asshole . sure , what he said wasn't warranted , deeming it incredibly fucked up & immature , but the fists ? it wasn't deserved , not one bit .

don't get billie wrong , it took them a while to get used to richie & to actually talk to him as if he were an adult & not some child going through puberty , but he wasn't all that bad . & no -- it wasn't like there was something going on between them , even if they were ( ... ) sort of close to each other , there was nothing . so why was billie acting like this when carmy got close to him ? they have no idea why , in fact . maybe they just didn't like seeing their ( very loose term ) friend being threatened in that way , even if it was something they were all used to .

once words were exchanged , hits blown here & there , billie stood there frozen for a moment - wondering what to do instead of fucking panicking . there wasn't any time for that , nonetheless , the whole thing seemed ( ... ) incredibly fucked , to be honest . it's like they'd both had gone on for some time just yelling at each other , nothing but stale profanities to make it seem like they were intimidating each other - nothing new , of course . with carmy & richie , their whole arguments seemed like a dick swinging contest , something billie - along with everyone else - was tired of .

billie knows how much it stings , how much sydney's impacted the restaurant like she impacted everyone else , they know that they're never going to get her back at the bear - which was something that billie was going to have to get used to , unlike carmy . thing was , instead of being bitter & throwing shit , billie had the guts to congratulate her on it , tell her that they're always there for her because they are : because they're not sour like carmy , they're happy for her .

they're still friends ( ... ) billie & sydney , that's something that's not going to go away .

a short lived sigh comes from their mouth , soon shooting a gaze over at richie , wondering if he was okay - or if he needed a breather , a cigarette in the back , like most days . most days , they'd join him for a smoke - listen to what he had to say about carmy , his personal life , whatever else was on his mind . it's why they have so much sympathy for richie , because as much as he is a fucking jerk , he also is a good natured person , that's what they've gathered .

sucking a breath , attempting to get their shaking out of their body , showing off a light grin at the other , chewing down on their lower lip .

" you okay ? "

it comes out as a question of concern , it really does . witnessing that argument between carmy & richie , billie's thinking in their head that they're going to speak up more when shit like that hits the fan because it always manages to split people up & sometimes -- they don't know what to do or even expect on their next shift .

there's an unusual silence that fills the air , they're watching carmy intently as he's fixating on the mess he's made , richie's now gone outside for a smoke - billie doesn't blame him for that , not at all . all that's there is billie & carmy . slowly , they're thinking what's next ( ... ) is he going to come at them next ? is he going to start some argument between them & him ? they don't have the patience for that , they really fucking don't .

fiddling with their fingers as they're studying him silently , continuing to chew at their lower lip , wondering what's really on his mind . should billie say fuck it & try to comfort him ? no -- they already know what's going to happen if they do , he'll just blow up at them like he did richie , it wouldn't end well . brows furrowing in as their head is tilted once again , some sort of intelligible sound muffled between their lips , paying close attention to him , like he's some test subject of theirs .

eyes widening as they're listening to his words , noticing his voice grow softer than its' usual loud tone - shaking their head , remaining silent . it's not because they're scared of him , but rather , they're scared of another confrontation , that'd be something they wouldn't be able to handle .

" i didn't ( ... ) i didn't say anything . "

they're lying , solely to protect him , that's all it is . nonetheless , billie wants to be honest , but not while he's in this much of a sensitive position .

" i .. i'm gonna go check on richie & see if he can help me clean up or something . "

mumbling their words , soon shooting their gaze elsewhere , not wanting to have a staring contest with the other , not while he's coming down from a screaming match with his cousin .

"Yeah, we'll clean up Carm's mess again---- just like with Donna."

Richie's voice dripped with that familiar edge, the one he used when he was trying to get under Carmy's skin. And this Donna comparison? It was his favorite weapon lately, a low blow he knew would sting.

Carmy's not his mother. Donna was a tornado in human form, and yeah, maybe some of that chaos lived in his blood, but that didn’t give Richie the right to poke at it. Being close enough to be considered family or not, what Carmy, Mikey, and Nat had survived in that house wasn’t Richie’s fucking business to dissect.

Carmy’s vision blurred red, pulse roaring in his ears. The next dish didn’t go flying. Instead, he barreled forward, fists clenched, ready to settle this with his cousin the old-fashioned way. At this point, he didn’t care if Richie pulled a gun on him or worse. Pain was terribly familiar, almost comforting. Hell, kitchen fires seemed like a safe haven compared to this shit.

Nat’s sigh cut through the room, heavy with disappointment. She looked at Richie, a silent rebuke in her eyes because they both knew he’d crossed the line. But before anyone could say a word, Carmy lunged.

Chaos erupted.

"FUCK you!"

"NO, FUCK YOU!"

"FUCK. YOU!"

"FUUUUUCK YOU!"

Carmy’s face burned crimson, spit flying as he shouted, veins bulging as his fists started wildly swinging. Richie shouted back, his own rage flaring, but the others scrambled to keep them apart. This wasn’t new, this kind of explosive back-and-forth had been a regular occurrence since The Bear’s opening night. It felt like no one had a clue how to break the cycle. Talking things out without using insults? Seemed as impossible as a quiet dinner at the Berzatto household.

And now Sydney was gone.

Her absence heavily loomed over the restaurant like a monstrous and depressive storm cloud. When she’d joined The Beef, her sheer presence alone had brought a strange, steadying calm to Carmy, like a balm he didn’t know he needed. People assumed he’d be wrecked over Claire, but no. Claire had been easy to cut loose, a chapter finally closed. Sydney, though...

She was the pulse, the heart.

And she deserved better.

That’s what stung the most: knowing she’d left because Carmy couldn’t lead with anything but intensity and suffering, the only ways he knew to show passion. In some ways, Richie’s dig wasn’t wrong----- he was more like Donna than he cared to admit.

Eventually, the terror subsided. Spent from his rage, Carmy retreated to the quiet shame of cleanup, his baby blues fixed on the mess he’d made. Richie stepped out for a smoke, and the rest of the crew worked in tense silence, sweeping glass, picking up silverware, resetting the space. Carmy’s compulsion for order wouldn’t let him leave the destruction unchecked. Yet, as he gathered his things at the end of the night, the weight of it all pressed down on him. The yelling. The fights. Sydney.

A thought struck him: she hadn’t just left. She’d been poached. By some piece of shit, fake ass friend of an old colleague who’d seen her worth before Carmy could fully show her how much she meant. The idea of poaching her back crossed his mind, but he needed someone to back him up on it, to say it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

He glanced over at Billie, hesitating. His voice came out softer than it had been earlier.

“Uh, hey… What were you gonna say earlier? Before you cut yourself off?”

He didn’t want to be shitty, but it was an effort. Listening, sitting with someone else’s emotions; it was a skill he still had to work at.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Oh the Guilt

Sam Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: no

Warning(s): major character death and mourning/grief

Notes: Based off of this request: hey! i saw your requests are open (i am indeed busting). i was wondering if you’d do some angst with either sam or tara? maybe sam/tara spending the holidays alone because they falsely accused reader of being gf and pushed them away/broke up w them. but it only ended up putting r in danger and leading to their death? love me some good ol angst if you’re up for it! have a great holiday season :)

The Christmas lights blur through her tears as Sam clutches your photo to her chest, fingers trembling against the worn edges. Her apartment feels too quiet, too empty, the silence broken only by the distant sound of people celebrating that makes everything worse. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sam stares at your sweater draped over her couch - the soft blue one you always wore when it got cold, the one that still holds traces of your perfume. She doesn't deserve its comfort, but she pulls it on anyway, drowning in fabric and guilt and memory.

"We’re specimens to you, aren’t we?" Sam's voice had cracked like breaking glass, fear masquerading as anger. "I’m not letting Tara get hurt again!"

You'd reached for her, confusion and hurt painting your features. "Sam, please. You know me. I would never-"

"I thought I knew Richie too," she'd snarled, backing away from your touch. "Get out. Get out!”

The door had slammed with such finality. She'd thought she was protecting herself, protecting everyone. Instead, she'd handed you to them gift-wrapped - alone, vulnerable, perfect prey.

By the time Sam realized her mistake, she was cradling your broken body in the rain, red seeping into puddles around you both. Your fingers had weakly brushed her cheek, still trying to comfort her even then.

"Not your fault," you'd whispered, but those words haunt her worse than any ghostface ever could.

Now Tara brings food she doesn't eat, Kirby tries to coax her out, but Sam remains suspended in amber, preserved in the moment she lost you. Your clothes hang in her closet like ghosts. She wears your sweaters to sleep, buries her face in the fabric and pretends she can still feel your warmth.

The Christmas tree in the corner - the one you'd insisted on buying together - stands half-decorated, just as you'd left it. Tinsel dangles like broken promises. The star you'd picked out remains in its box, because finishing it without you feels like accepting you're gone.

Sam traces the words of your last text message: "I love you. We'll talk soon." Her phone screen has cracked from how many times she's dropped it, hands shaking too hard to hold on.

She knows she should let others in. Knows you'd want her to live, to heal, to forgive herself. But every time Tara hugs her or Kirby offers support, it feels like betraying your memory. Like she doesn't deserve comfort after what she did to you.

Sometimes, in the depths of night when the walls feel like they're closing in, Sam swears she can feel you. A whisper of movement in her peripheral vision, the ghost of your touch against her shoulder, the way the air shifts as if accommodating your presence.

"I see you everywhere," she whispers into the darkness, clutching your sweater like a lifeline. "The coffee mug you chipped is still in the cabinet. Your stupid action movies are still in my queue. I can't… I can't delete them."

The apartment creaks, settling into winter's grip, and Sam lets out a broken laugh. "Remember how you used to say these old buildings had character? God, you'd make up stories about the noises - ghosts having dance parties, you said." Her voice catches. "Is that what you're doing now? Dancing without me?"

Sam reaches out, fingers trembling in the empty air where she imagines you might be. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I was so scared of losing everyone that I pushed away the one person who…" She chokes on the words. "The one person who never gave me a reason to doubt them."

The Christmas lights flicker, and for a moment, Sam's heart stops. She's learned to find meaning in these small disturbances, these tiny rebellions against reality. "I know what you'd say. That I need to forgive myself. That I need to let people in." Tears track down her cheeks. "But how can I? How can I when every time I close my eyes, I see you bleeding out in my arms?"

Something shifts in the room - maybe the heating kicking in, maybe something more. The tinsel on the half-decorated tree sways gently. Sam watches it, transfixed. "If you're here… I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should have trusted you. Should have protected you. Should have been there when…"

The star for the tree - your star - sits in its box on the coffee table. As Sam watches through tears, a draft from somewhere catches the lid, lifting it slightly. Her breath hitches.

"You want me to finish it, don't you? The tree?" Her laugh is wet, broken. "Always so stubborn about traditions." She reaches for the star with shaking hands. "I don't know if I can. It feels like accepting you're really…"

The room grows impossibly still, as if the very air is holding its breath. Sam could swear she feels the phantom pressure of your hand over hers, guiding her toward the tree. The sensation is so vivid she gasps.

"Okay," she whispers, standing on unsteady legs. "Okay, baby. For you." She clutches the star to her chest, your sweater hanging loose on her frame. "But I'm not ready to let you go. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

As she reaches up to place the star, the Christmas lights seem to glow a little brighter, and for just a moment, Sam swears she can feel your arms around her waist, your chin on her shoulder, just like before. Just like always.

"Stay with me?" she asks the empty room, knowing the answer, dreading the silence. "Even if I don't deserve it?"

The lights flicker once, twice - like a heartbeat, like a promise - and Sam breaks down sobbing, sliding to the floor beneath your half-finished tree, beneath your star, beneath the weight of a love that even death couldn't quite end.

———

A/N: first request filled, ob-la-di (sorry if this sucks, I’m half-asleep)

[thecapricunt1616]

Hello all! Here are my WIP! I will update as I get asks, please be patient I am only one human! These are not in order by the way, I will write them when I have the prompt worked out for it! But I assure you If you ask something I will answer it with your moodboard so you know it's in the pile!

(💖📝 next to the name means it’s currently being worked & is next in queue to be posted.)

Capri WIP List:

Tomato (Wedding / Marriage w/ Carmy)

Apricot (Virgin!Copenhagen Carmy)

Blueberry (Richie finding your toys)

Tulip (Practicing Shibari W/ Carmy)

Pineapple (Leaving hickeys on The Beef!Richie)

Rosemary (Safewording w/ Carmy)

Coconut (Thrifting w/ Dad!Carmy)

Plum (Carmy confronting his crush for being dressed provocatively at work)

Raspberry (Top-Drop w/ Carmy)

Pear (Teaching Carmy Dirty Talk!)

Lavender (Mutual masturbation w/ Carmy)

Banana (Agegap!Reader telling Richie shes pregnant)

Orange (Camgirl!Reader & SugarDaddy!Carmy)

Sage (Whip Cream play w/ Carmy)

Cranberry (Pink Pony part 3)

Iris (Stepdad!Carmy)

Guava (SydxCarmy College AU)

Mugwort (Daddy!Kink W/ Richie)

💖📝Honeysuckle (RichiexPlus size reader)

[jerrylewis-thekid]

I wanted to ask you something and I said it might be a long answer...so my question is why do Dean and Jerry's children act as if their parents really haven't spoken for twenty years?? All of their children, especially the older ones, witnessed the drama between their parents in the sixties and the Sinatra meetings they had before 76. And also, weren't Dean children sees Jerry sometimes? I do not know where I read that they know about a file in the Federal Investigations, so why do they act, and that they parents really don't spoken for twenty years? None of their children mentioned the amount of information that we found for them, and Richie’s words that his father said that he communicated with Jerry again, when they were in communication before his son’s accident!

Hi, your good question. Dean's children who have any memories of the Martin & Lewis period are Betty's children. Curiously, however, Craig (Betty's eldest son and the eldest of all Dean's children) never spoke about his father. I had read that he married very young only to live elsewhere away from his original family. Patti wrote in her book that after the breakup they happened to often randomly meet Dean's children (the first four, Betty's children). But only Deana wrote and talked about her father and Jerry. And she always called him “Uncle Jerry” even after the breakup, even when Jerry was old. Betty's kids and Sinatra's kids loved Jerry. Deana referred to Jerry as "her second father" and said he was always a rock for her father. ALWAYS? Always when... even after the breakup, even when according to the official versions they weren't speaking to each other? Deana, like Jerry, always "said and didn't say" when talking about Dean and Jerry. There is a photo of Claudia Martin (Betty's daughter) and Jerry from the mid-1960s. Where were they and above all who took that photo? And it was published by Deana on her Instagram profile. Betty's children were closer to Jerry, I think more Claudia and Deana, but they were. I don't think Jeanne's children were. Dean Paul JR was born in 1951, Ricci Martin was born in 1953, too young to remember, Gina was born in December 1956, after the breakup. I firmly think they were raised in “bad Jerry” thinking. Ricci Martin in the hateful book he wrote about his father and above all about his own family (they were rich, they lived the good life, they knew important people, things like that, for me Ricci Martin was frighteningly empty inside) HE WROTE BAD THINGS ABOUT JERRY . Throughout the entire book, HE DIDN'T EVEN MENTION THE 1976 REUNION. I'm sure he wrote "at Jeanne's dictation." He could not remember anything, because he was too young during that period. Ricci Martin wrote that his family knew about the FBI file (and had a laugh... my homosexual father? But if he had a queue of women outside the dressing room. Yes, believe it Ricci) but he didn't write when they found out. Here too... say but don't tell everything. I have not read statements from Jeanne's other two children about Jerry. I think they were "educated" to hate Jerry. They know what they were told. And the myth of twenty years without speaking contributes to fueling the "Martin & Lewis myth". For them, it is convenient for them to always keep things hidden.

And sometimes I think that the whole network of hatred that surrounds Jerry and the desire to remove the Martin & Lewis period from Dean's career and life starts right there...

[an-inspired-eternity]

hiiii welcome to my blog i AM in fact annoying! 💖💖

as stated in my bio, my pronouns are they/them! i don't mind gendered terms (though i do prefer masculine ones, generally the consensus is "whatever description is funniest/makes the joke land the best") so long as you stick to they/them!

my youtube and ao3 are umbreno

shuffle au intro here

shuffle au outfits here

read wonder halloween

i have a rotumblr blog lol @worlds-normalest-unovan

dni if friends with adrien 2-kamikou-1. i am no longer asking. just simply do not fucking interact. i can explain if asked privately but otherwise i will simply not tolerate you.

my prsk and p:eg rp blogs are NOT open, we rp selectively and do not welcome others joining in or reblogging our posts. anyone who does not respect those boundaries WILL be blocked.

PLEASE tag

-any m/f rui ships (i will make an exception for mizurui but only to a degree)

-polyshow related content

-white day au content pertaining to rui's card and the characterization it suggests (if it's just the design/costume and nothing else that's okay! but if he's depicted as insane and/or evil thats a nono)

as richie don't look

other info below the cut

byf:

-save for a few select of things, i don't sort my reblogs with tag

-i reblog in bursts, queue basically only gets used for if i hit post limit, and i don't have a tag for queued posts, so you wouldn't know

-this is a multi fandoms blog. even with a major hyperfix i rarely if ever reblog exclusively one thing

-my dms are open but i cannot promise i'll respond, i'm not very good with starting or maintaining conversations

-i don't tend to reblog a lot of real world politics. tumblr is my safe space to post on the internet and i really don't have the mental and emotional energy for everything going on in the world

ff7

final fantasy vii og is my favorite game of all time, and i will reblog it. A LOT. especially when new additions come out like the remake trilogy. i do have sorting tags for it, but this is the only fandom i do that for. while my older reblogged posts are not fully sorted, generally how i sort them now (not counting character tags) is

ff7: default tag, if lone it usually has something to do with the general game as opposed to a specific character

ff7 party: as it says on the tin, the 9 main playable characters

avalanche: marlene, biggs wedge and jessie- or the group from the yuffie side story (or before crisis but i don't really cater to that game)

the turks: also as it says on the tin, primarily tseng reno rude and elena- but also cissnei or any other before crisis turks

soldier firsts: sephiroth, angeal, genesis, and zack

[disneybrandautism]

here are some taylor swift songs i think each of the sides would like! (with some explanation)

nobody asked for this but im doing this instead of my APUSH homework. i’m going to start with roman and go through all of them!

(some ships are mentioned but it’s only a couple times. i promise it’s not all the songs.)

(roman has the most because he would be the biggest swiftie leave me alone)

Roman

enchanted- you cannot tell me roman wouldn’t love the disney romcom vibes of this song. he would love how sweet it was. it’s like meeting your hero.

i bet you think about me - he’s so petty. he would eat this song up.

mirrorball - i feel like this is a given. he would relate an insane amount to this song.

hoax - “your faithless love is the only hoax i believe in” be so fr. this could apply to any of his friendships or relationships with the other sides. his blind faith in the other sides. yeah.

the archer - we all knew this was coming. he would sob listening to this song.

jump then fall - again with the hopeless romantic bit. he would just thing this song is really cute.

question…? - i just think he’d have fun with song. he’d like the beat and just how much of a bop it is.

tolerate it - do i really have to explain myself? come on. he tolerates all the insults. this is his like standing up for himself era.

king of my heart - king is literally in the title. he would again just have fun with this song. so disney prince of him.

champagne problems - feeling the bad guy and knowing you fucked up. it’s so him oh my god don’t even with me.

i could continue. i won’t. next up is logan!

Logan

say don’t go - i just feel like logan would really relate to needing to hear someone tell him not to leave when he gets into an argument.

innocent - i can’t explain this one i just feel like he would get it.

the lakes - he would love the lakes and just this idea of loving someone like this. “take me to the lakes where are all the poets went to die”. this is his song.

marjorie - i feel like he would appreciate that taylor used her grandmothers vocals for this. i feel like he’s more in it for the genius behind her lyrics.

delicate - he lacks understanding of social cues often. “i know that it’s delicate”. he would eat this song up.

glitch - he would get this song in ways i can’t even describe. he would love the beat. his vibes fr.

no body, no crime - a story based song. he would think about this all the time.

lover - idk a reason i just think he’d really enjoy this song.

Patton

never grow up - he’s like a dad. so. watching his kids grow up. it would destroy him.

invisible string - i feel like he would love the idea of the string of fate. he would like the idea that he was just supposed to know these people.

you’re on your own kid - he would feel the pressure of just being on his own and feeling the pressure of being the moral compass.

state of grace - he feels like everyone is the “worth while fight”. yeah you know what i’m saying.

ivy - “you pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” THE CARETAKER AGAIN

Me! - listen i know it’s not everyone’s favorite but this makes so much sense. the bright colors. the message of the song. the whole thing screams patton.

long live - he would think it’s a really sweet song. he adores the whole message and just how sweet it is. the nostalgia aspect. yeah.

love story - if anyone was getting this song it would be patton. queue the scene of richie from the bear where he is singing this in the car. that’s pat.

Virgil

electric touch - this is so in your face obvious. of course virgil would love the song with fob on it.

clean - i feel like he would relate to this. he’s finally not an “other side” and he’s just virgil. but he sometimes still misses them.

today was a fairytale - i feel like he would be unapologetically a fearless fan. he’s more of a hopeless romantic than i’m willing to admit. it’s so prinxiety coded idk.

closure - idk just very like “other sides apologize” to virgil. (i believe firmly in sympathetic other sides but i think virgil would struggle for a bit to forgive them)

my tears ricochet - “an i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want just not home.” home was confusing for a bit. where did he belong? yk?

afterglow - the bridge sounds like asking for reassurance during a panic attack. he would love this song.

the lucky one - he for a bit thought that he was the lucky one but realized that all the sides are messy and no one is perfect.

new year’s day - this is so analogince and it would remind him of his boyfriends. he would pick up bottles with them on new year’s day.

holy shit this is getting long. i’m sorry.

Janus

mastermind - he is so this song. he would love this song. he masterminds everything so i just know he would adore this song.

foolish one - i don’t know but i feel like he would love this song in a way no one can understand.

bigger than the whole sky - he probably feels remorse for all he did to roman. maybe he’s saying goodbye to the possibility of friendship? i don’t know but he would like this song.

you’re losing me - i really don’t have explanations for all these. i feel like janus angst always. he would like how this songs has a lot of self blaming.

bad blood - he has beef with a lot of people. i think he would enjoy this song ironically at first. then he didn’t.

so it goes - he is rocking out to this in his room. i just know it in my heart and soul and it makes me nuts.

dear reader - “if it feels like a trap, you’re already in one” this just feels like janus’ internal monologue. all the contradictions feels like deceit. yeah.

cowboy like me - he just wants someone to want the things he wants. he loves this song. it makes sense in his head.

Remus

cruel summer - he would love the beat. he could and would shake ass to this song.

getaway car - i think he’d endorse the message of this song and think it’s a lot of fun.

cardigan - he comes out when people are bored of roman. he definitely struggled being pushed aside so he likes cardigan a lot.

the way i loved you - he would love the idea that even after fighting with someone an insane amount you can still miss them.

i don’t have anything else for remus. i hope this makes sense. if not i apologize. if you think of anything else for remus let me know. i am just slightly nuts about taylor swift.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Baseball's Greatest Hits 1989 Novelty / Swing / Pop / Jazz / Comedy / Folk / Singer-Songwriter

Well, folks, I gotta say that baseball and I really aren't on the greatest of terms right now. See, my Mets are currently in the fight of their life for a playoff wild card spot, and their MVP-caliber shortstop, Francisco Lindor, who prides himself on playing every day, is now nursing a back injury, and we don't yet know the severity of it, because as I'm currently writing this, me and this entire fanbase are awaiting the results of a very important MRI. And as a diehard Mets fan whose only really been raised on baseball heartbreak, I've been conditioned to only expect bad news at this point, knowing full well that even if his injury is minor and he's only out for a few games, that his absence at this highly critical point in the season has a pretty good chance of causing this club to miss the playoffs by a mere inch, even though they've been pretty much the best team in the league since Memorial Day, with a starting pitching staff that was not expected to be very good, but has somehow miraculously developed itself into the best one in the game, despite ace Kodai Senga only making a single appearance all season due to multiple injuries.

But even though I really don't wanna think too much about baseball right now (hah!), we still push on, because like it or not, this novelty album of baseball songs from Rhino Records—the first of its kind, they allege—happens to be the next album in my queue, and so here I am, regardless of my own mood and how I'm currently trying to cope in this moment, ready to write, objectively 😥.

So, first of all, and above all else, this is a fun album. Little of it consists of music that I would consider to be *good*, but that's not really the point of an album like this in the first place; we're here for goofy novelty, and boy, do we have a whole lot of it, from swingin' and showtuney and rockin' tunes about specific greats like Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, Jackie Robinson, Mickey Mantle, and Hank Aaron; to jazz pianist Dave Frishberg's "Van Lingle Mungo," a song that, according to this albums own liner notes, became his most requested, even though its lyrics are literally only names of baseball players that he'd found in a baseball encyclopedia once, including that of Van Lingle Mungo himself. What a song to have your career defined by 😂.

But the absurdity of this album really only begins there, because in addition to that, we've got some peak 80s cringe here as well. Like, you know how so many people in that decade mistakenly thought it'd be a good idea to try their hand at rapping? Well, have a listen to legendary Yankees announcer Mel Allen rap the words 'that ain't no jive' on "Baseball Dreams," by Allen and a group called The Naturals. This song is like if one of those horribly cheesy 'just say no to drugs' anthems was made about baseball instead. A complete atrocity that reminds you just how much of this awful type of cheap and generic, keyboard-dominated ~sound~ was really floating around out there at the time. Fun to point and laugh at now, but holy shit, what terrible, terrible music this was!

And up until that very song on this album, I was set to write about how this is a great release for families to listen to in their car while on the way to a ballgame, so long as they don't go to more than a few games a year. But then I heard the next song, "Baseball Card Lover" by Rockin' Richie Ray, and thought otherwise, because while Richie provides the thinnest of pretenses that this song is merely about his love of baseball cards, what it's actually clearly about instead are his own fantasies about having wild sex with the players on those cards 🥵. So, uh...fun for the whole family, this album certainly is not.

Still, though, there are a few genuinely good songs on here too, and the best among them, I'd say, is probably Philly soul group The Intruders' "(Love Is Like A) Baseball Game," which wasn't their biggest hit, but still managed to perform modestly well, reaching #26 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1968. A quality piece of soul music that came courtesy of the legendary songwriting and production duo of Gamble and Huff, but I'm not too sure that I agree that the whole concept of love can really be equated to "three strikes, you're out" 😅.

So, all in all, it definitely did feel a little bit tormenting to have to listen to this album and then write up a post about it today, but now that I've done it, I won't have to do it again 👍. Worth a listen if you love the history of baseball and think you'd get a kick out of the wide variety of wacky music that this folkloric game has managed to yield since about the ~1940s, but if baseball's never really been your thing, you can probably skip this collection, because you probably wouldn't understand or appreciate much of what these songs are about anyway.

But seriously, how do you leave a song like "Meet the Mets," one of the single-catchiest baseball tunes ever written, off of an album like this?! 🤔 Tsk, tsk. The lesser known funkier and peppier 70s version of it goes pretty hard, as far as baseball songs go, too, I think.

Highlights:

The Intruders - "(Love Is Like A) Baseball Game" Steve Goodman - "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request" Sister Wynona Carr - "The Ball Game"

P.S.: Since I've written this, Lindor's MRI has come back clean, which is definitely encouraging, but they really need him back ASAP. Time is definitely not on their side right now 😓.

[magnoliae]

tagged by @kittydelight for the get to know you game thank you !!

last song you listened to- right now as of typing Im listening to evergreen by richy mitch and the coalminers. its very nice check it out

currently watching- doing my millionth rewatch of merlin bc my brain has problems, and vveerrryy slowly watching mp100. like soso slowly :(

currently reading- the tenant of wildfell hall by anne bronte. I went a little overboard with my book buying earlier this year so Ive got a bit of a queue of books now but its taking me forever to finish this one

current obession- oh ah not sure really. been too busy girl working for obsessions the brain has been fried

tagging 9 people ummmmm @tmoblrina @refrainboy @bromantically @blackprivilege @anomyn @brushedbug @sudsyy @iidamarine @easterbingus and anyone else who wants to!

[riptozier]

@gazebobullshit said: ❝ i'm seriously thinking about forcing that secret out of you. ❞ ( 🫣 )

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✘ . *. ⋆ THIS WAS A BIT SERIOUS. richie normally wasn't the kind of man who kept a ton of secrets from people , mainly because his career didn't allow it. of course , he kept some things to himself , and miraculously he managed to keep his orientation to himself privately for several years even after coming out to himself. other little secrets he could afford to share , like how messy his room was and even his shower routine. but this whole week he had been keeping something hidden from eddie , something special for christmas that he couldn't afford to share any details about yet. he'd been TEASING eddie with it , which was probably a bad move because of the holidays , so he suspected the other reached a bit of a breaking point and decided he'd try to get richie to confess what his present was by force.

❝ hey , man , it's a christmas present , i swear, ❞ he said , finding himself backing into the corner of the couch , until he could no longer feel his shin pressing up into the warmth of one of eddie's legs. he briefly wondered what the other meant by ' force ' ; god forbid it was something like TICKLING , which would knock the breath out of him right away and rendering his ability to speak useless. at this point he just hoped he could walk away from this conversation unscathed.

PROMPTS FOR MUSES WHO ARE LITTLE SHITS™ .

[notacrazycatladynamedmelissa]

Who does Melissa already have?

Answering this ooc bc it's important to know for people who want to start interactions!!!!

Melissa has attacked

Richie Lipschitz

Peter Spankoffski

Barry Swift

Melissa has the following folks in her queue

(Not) Ethan Green

Cal :]

Micheal

Melissa will not be attacking/targeting

Andrea

Ruth Fleming (she's my little blorbo I can't bring myself to write about torturing her :[[[ )

[zorilleerrant]

DC queer characters I care about and am thinking about submitting to the queer characters poll tumblr before it gets so popular the mod has to close submissions:

Legends:

Gary

Constantine

Sara

Ava

Captain Cold

Spooner

Mick???

Batwoman:

Kate

Ryan

Julia

Ivy

Evan

Lucifer:

Lucifer

Maze

Eve

you know what maybe their OC daughter

Peacemaker:

Peacemaker

Vigilante

Adebayo

Harley Quinn Show:

Harley

Ivy

Selena

Riddler

Clock King

Other shows:

Steph

Tim

Richie (submitted)

Comics:

Harley (she's already in their queue)

Ivy (I think she is too)

Janet from HR

Selena

Vicky (submitted)

Xanthe (submitted)

Richie (submitted the show version but)

Tim

Bern

Kate

Khoa

Constantine

Ray Monde

Jules Jourdain

Squeak

Alysia

Catman

Jay Nakamura

Diego

Stitch

Pedro (got to double check that)

Grace

Riddler

[gingernut1314]

Songbird Pt. 6

Summary: You've been a member of the Buggy Pirates for a month now and your Captain is not so happy about the chores you have been assigned.

Tags: Smut (dom!reader, sub!Buggy, oral m. and f. receiving, fingering), fluff??

Word Count: 4.0K

A/N: I am soooo sorry it's been such a long time. It's almost the end of the semester and my professors have taken that as their queue to kill me with every assignment known to man 😭 I'm going on Thanksgiving break next week so hopefully I'll have more time to write. I hope you all enjoy this part!!

Requested by: @srgtjamesbarnes

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You’ve been a part of the Buggy Pirates for a month now. A month full of scrubbing toilets, mopping floors, and washing dishes. You didn’t mind the work, it was similar to what you had done on Luffy’s crew. It gave you time to think up new lyrics and rhythms for your songs. 

You had expected to do the chores no one else wanted to do, knowing that you were the newbie here. That you would have to work your way up to less tedious chores if you wished it. 

What you hadn’t expected was Cabaji, the Chief of Staff, having some sort of vendetta against you. A vendetta he wielded against you like one of his throwing knives, sharp and quick. 

He watched you like a hawk, waiting for you to make a mistake--to miss a spot in your cleaning.

Oh, you thought that toilet had been scrubbed so clean you could eat off it? Wrong. Scrub it again. Had just finished mopping and was about to throw the dirty water overboard. Nope. Cabaji had just walked through the hallway and you needed to mop it again. 

You took it with grace, trying your hardest to never lose your head over his demands. It had been expected, such roughness. You had expected to receive more from the rest of the crew, but they seemed to be slowly getting used to you. Hell--the other girls on the crew had become your friends in a matter of a few days. 

But Cabaji was not one of them. He seemed to want to make your life a living hell with all the chores he assigned. And a true living hell he made it when he assigned you a new chore. 

Cleaning out the lion's room. The lion who had just as much of a vendetta against you as Cabaji due to the fact you had beat his master to a pulp. 

“Richie is very particular about how his room is cleaned.” Cabaji had said to you as he tossed you a shovel, which you had caught with ease. You had tried to keep the snarl off your face, Cabaji being higher up in rank than you, but had utterly failed. 

The acrobat had leaned in close, a wicked shit-eating grin on his face. “You mess up, he’ll tear your arm off. Maybe your head. The last guy was hardly recognizable.” And he had left without another word, leaving you in Richie's room, which he had all to himself. A room that rivaled every room you had ever had yourself, the lion basically living in luxury.

You had just started to shovel when Richie came scrolling in and plopped himself down on his bed, watching your every move just as Cabaji would. Except he wouldn’t tell you to do it again, he would eat you. 

Richie had just growled at you for the hundredth time after you dropped a bit of his shit when he froze, looking almost wide-eyed and terrified, if a fearsome lion could look as such, at something behind you. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” The sound of your captain's voice had your heart fluttering in absolute excitement. You hardly ever saw him during the day, you too busy with your chores, which kept you in the belly of the ship, and he busy with his captain duties. 

But night after night you would steal away to his quarters and fuck each other silly before falling into some of the best sleep you had ever had in your life. Just the mere thought of his arms around you, his soft lips kissing you, had you gravitating over to be closer to him. 

“Captian.” You said, your voice showing off your excitement to see him with little embarrassment. In the past, you might have scoffed at yourself for being this excited over a man, but it was Buggy--he made you all warm and gooey on the inside. 

“I’m doing my chores.” Buggy narrowed his eyes dangerously at this, a danger he directed the lion's way who gave a low, mournful sound. You placed a hand on his arm, directing those green-blue eyes back onto you. “Have you gotten much work done today?” You asked, filling your voice with low, sweet tones as you pulled yourself to your tippy toes to give him a kiss on his cheek. 

To your almost hurt surprise, he stopped you with a tight grip around your arm, holding you away. 

“Hey--” You started, wanting to complain sharply about his denial of your affections. 

“Did Cabaji tell you to scoop this overgrown cat's kitty litter?” Buggy asked, that harshness never once leaving his voice. Richie gave another pathetic little whine from behind you. 

“Um…he gives out the chores doesn’t he?” Buggy gave a dramatically angered growl, his hand falling from your arm as he stormed out of Richie’s room. You looked towards the lion, who was all but pressed against the wall, looking like he might pass out, before rushing after your captain. 

“Captain--wait. What’s wrong?” You called, doing a little jog to catch up to the fuming man. 

“What’s wrong is that string bean is going to get thrown overboard with a rock tied around his ankles.” You huffed at his dramatics, quickly stepping in front of him. 

“Buggy. Stop.” You said, placing a hand on his chest to keep him from moving around you. He did as you said, though that danger never left those beautiful eyes of his. It was a danger that always pulled you in whenever it shone in his eyes. 

“Y/N. Move.” He said like he had meant to snap it at you, but it fell short. 

“Why the sudden bloodlust?” You asked, fingers moving over the stitching of his elaborate shirt in, hopefully, a calming touch. Buggy moved only so he was closer to you. “I love it,” You teased, “but why?” Buggy gave another little growl. One that vibrated through your hand and down your arm, making your excited nature shift. Shift to something that much more exciting. 

“You shouldn’t be shoveling shit.” That was what this was all about. Buggy not wanting you to do the dirty work. It had your heart doing a little dance. 

“Sure…but who would do it then?” Buggy blinked down at you for a second, as if stunned you were okay with this. “I’m okay with my chores. It’s nothing I haven’t done before. I’ll be fine as long as Richie doesn’t tear my arm off.” You tried to joke but it only seemed to make that bloodlust towards his second mate deepen. 

“Well, I’m not.” He snapped, grabbing hold of you again only so he could move you out of his way. 

You were not having it, not one bit. Not when you hardly got to see Buggy in the daylight like this. All illuminated and looking so pretty and murderous. And as much as you would love to watch Buggy rip into someone for you, you couldn’t have that person be Cabaji. You were too close to getting on the guy's good side--too close to winning him over. 

With all the strength you could muster up, you grabbed Buggy around the waist and all but slammed him into the wall beside you. A small, startled yelp escaped his lips at the action. A yelp that turned into a low whimper on his lips as you fit your leg between his, pinning him in place. 

Gods--he looked so flustered and passive against you. That shifted excitement nestled deeper within you as you watched a rich blush spread over his cheeks, his green-blue eyes wide looking down at you. 

“If you step in, Captain, none of the crew is going to learn to accept me.” You said lowly, running your hands slowly downward from their spot on his waist, another little noise you loved to hear spilling from his lips. “I’ll be the butt of the joke.” And through his passive fog, you saw that danger spike again. 

“That’s what Cabaji is making you out to be right--” You shushed him, pressing your body that much closer to his. His blush only seemed to deepen. 

“He’s testing the newbie. That’s all. No biggy.” You said calmly, running your hands down his lower back to find their home cupping his ass. You gave the bits of flesh a tight squeeze and that little noise came spilling out of him again, his gloved hands coming up to take hold of your arms. 

“Songbird--” He grit out lowly. “You’re--you’re not just any old newbie.” You hummed with a nod. Pulling a hand back, you brushed a finger over his red-painted lips. Paint you had watched him apply this morning with skillful precision while laying in his bed. Buggy leaned into the touch, silently asking for more. You did so without a second thought, cupping his face so you could rub his painted cheek. His eyes fluttered closed. 

“I’m your newbie. And I’m willing to prove myself to you--serve you.” An airy groan escaped his lips, those green-blue eyes lully back open. It brought a smirk to your face. A smirk that turned near devious when you felt his cock begin to harden against your hip. 

“How does that sound, Captain?” You asked, running your hand down that sharp, stubble-covered jaw of his. Down the column on his throat, which bobbed on a swallow. Your hand continued its travel downward, coming to a stop at his belt which you gave a teasing tug on. 

He grit his teeth at the action, his hand brushing up your arm as he grabbed your chin in a loose hold. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, tugging at it lightly to see teeth. 

“Fuck, songbird--you are all mine, aren’t you?” He said, his grip tightening the slightest bit on your chin. 

“Yours and only yours, Captain.” You lulled, beginning to unbuckle his belt. Buggy cursed as he crashed his lips to yours, claiming your mouth with that fiery passion that made your head spin and body melt into his.

Your hands found their way back around his waist, pulling him flush against your needy body. A body that nearly had a mind of its own as you directed Buggy off the wall and down the hall. Buggy followed, his hands leaving your face to grab your ass in a tight squeeze, keeping you against him. A stumble and the stepping on toes was what finally had Buggy’s lips pulling away from your own. You huffed at their absence, rising up on your tippy toes to find them again. 

“Song-” You kissed him, silencing his words, “bird.” He finished his little pet name for you. One that continued to drive you crazy. “Where are we--” You cut him off once more with another kiss, your hand fumbling with a door knob. Once opened, you all but shoved Buggy into the dark room, closing the door behind you both. 

The smallest sliver of light dimly illuminated the cluttered space you were in. Light that had been dim to begin with, so it truly did nothing for viability. Not that you needed it to know where you were--to know where most everything was. 

You had spent too much time in and out of this little supply closet thanks to Cabaji. A closet you were very thankful for in that moment when your body buzzed and ached to have your captain all to yourself. 

You grabbed hold of Buggy again, all but shoving him into the cleaning supplies-filled shelf behind him, said supplies rattling upon impact. He huffed out a breath before his lips claimed yours again, burning them away with every needy movement. 

“It smells like--” Buggy breathed between kisses, “shit and bleach in here.” 

“This is the supply closet.” You said, brushing your lips against his and pulling away quick enough to avoid him claiming them once more. Buggy gave a huffy little growl, his grip on your waist tightening. It brought a wicked little smirk to your face. “I think a family of rats is living in here.” You spoke lowly, your fingers finishing unlooping his belt. 

Buggy gave another little growl that was full of frustration and anger. The same anger you had dragged him in here to forget about. 

“Why the hell do I allow that useless, overgrown kitten to stay if he can’t even keep away a few rats,” Buggy growled against your lips before meshing them together, an action you had half a mind to keep doing, your head spinning the way it was--how your lips burned and buzzed and needed more, more, more. 

“He’s just a big old baby. Probably scared of them.” You murmured, kissing his cheek and jaw before sinking to your knees, hands dragging downwards over his body as you went. Buggy’s breath hitched in his throat.

“I-I wanted a bloodthirsty man-eater, not some lion scared of his own shadow.” 

“He did eat Esmeralda’s horse.” Esmeralda, once Buggy’s equestrian stunts act, now merely a flashy gymnast that talks relentlessly in her sleep. It was a fact she still teared up over whenever it was brought up. “And gnawed on someone so bad he was unrecognizable. I would say that’s pretty bloodthirsty.” Buggy gave an annoyed huff that only lodged itself in his throat as you began tugging his pants lower. 

“And that is exactly why you shouldn’t be shoveling his shit. I’ll make that tuff of grass do it.” Buggy gave that funky little laugh you loved. “Cover him in cat-nip first, see how he likes getting--” Buggy’s plotting came to a sharp, huffy close as you freed his cock and wrapped your fingers around the bit of silky flesh.

“Captian.” You drawled, giving him a slow pump that pulled that whiny, breathy little moan you craved from his lips. “You have so much on your plate already.” Buggy cursed as you smoothed your thumb over the droplet of precome that had begun to leak from his slit. “Let me handle it--let me take your mind off it.” You said before kissing the tip of his cock. Buggy groaned, gloved hand reaching out to touch your cheek and jaw and hair. Touches you leaned into and savored. 

“Fu-fuck. Sure--sure thing, songbird.” You smirked before kissing his head again, Buggy’s hips bucking against the fleeting touch. His grip on your cheek tightened, trying to pull you closer to his twitching cock. 

“Ah, ah, ah--Captain. Where are your manners?” Buggy gave a gruff of frustration at your teasing, his gloved fingertips digging into the flesh of your cheek in a way you loved. “Say please.” 

“Please--gods, please, baby. I need to feel your mouth--such a fucking sexy mouth.” He begged. That smirk he had pulled from your lips stayed plastered there as you started to pump him slowly. 

“Such a good boy.” A sharp curse had just spilled from him when you wrapped your lips around him, swirling your tongue around his head. 

Buggy gave a string of moany noises that might have been your name, might have been your nickname, and could have possibly been another curse. In all likelihood, it was all of the above. 

The fact that you turned him into such a blubbering mess--had him gripping onto the shelf behind him so tight it knocked some bottle of cleaner off onto the floor--was intoxicating. So intoxicating you wanted to drag more and more of those dramatic reactions out of him. 

You took him deeper, flattening your tongue so you might feel every bit of soft skin and vien his cock had to offer. Your hands roamed over his thighs, holding him close as you continued to take him deeper and deeper into our mouth. Deeper and deeper until the head of his cock tickled the back of your throat, causing a wet sound to escape you. 

Buggy’s moan was long and low, his head falling back against the wooden shelf with a distinct bump. His hands found their way back to your face, caressing your forehead and cheeks and ears and jaw. And as you began to pull off him again, setting a teasingly slow pace and swirling your tongue around his leaking head every time you came to it, his thumbs brushed over your lips wrapped around him--felt the tight seal of where you two connected.

“F-fuck--songbird. You’re so fucking good. So fucking warm. Oh gods--” He said, his words falling from his mouth like some breathy, moany little waterfall. 

It was like music to your ears. Music knew you would sing right back to him as soon as he had come and was a sweat-covered mess before you. 

His head fell back again as you took him deep, something landing on the floor beside you with a soft thud. With a quick glance, you were able to see a flash of orange and blue in the dimness of the supply closet. 

His hat. He’d knocked his hat off with his dramatics. 

You pulled off of him with a pop, the clown giving a whiny noise as he grabbed at your face to keep you there. 

“Songbird--baby, please--” You shushed him in comfort, running your hand up and down his thigh. 

“I don’t want your hat to get dirty.” You said, grabbing for his hat quickly. You dusted it off in a dramatic action of your own, making Buggy huff another whine down at you. 

“I don’t care about the damn--” His words caught in his throat as you pulled it onto your head. Buggy’s mouth hung open, whatever words he had been trying to say coming out as a croaking sort of sound that had you laughing.

“Is this okay, captain?” His cock only seemed to grow harder--grew more needy in front of you. A neediness your own body burned with. 

“Fuck…” He said lowly, his thumb brushing over your lips again. “Hell yes, baby.” You scooted closer once more so you could easily take him back into your mouth. Buggy instantly become a drooping, putty-like mess against your every touch. 

You started your slow pace again, teasing the poor man to utter tears before you picked up your pace. The blue hair-like tassels on either side of his hat brushed against your shoulders with every bob of the head. 

“Songbird--” He moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair. His hips began to buck, driving his cock that much deeper down your throat, pulling those wet, lude sounds from you. “I’m gonna--fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.” You hummed around him, bringing a hand up to cup his balls. To tell him to let go and help bring him closer and closer to his finish. 

Buggy grabbed your face in a tight hold, stopping your movements only so he could thrust into your mouth like you were his own personal toy. 

It was addictive, getting used in such a way. In a way that had you gagging around his cock and your eyes filling with tears but gods did you love it. Had you reaching into your pants to find your clit to give you any sort of relief from the utter painful horniness that had been building up in you. 

Buggy’s thrusts became uneven and frantic and soon he was shoving himself to the base, spilling his come down your throat in spurts. You drank every last hot drop he gave you, slurping it down like it was your favorite cocktail. 

Heh, cocktail.

Buggy pulled his cock from your mouth with a pop and fell to his knees before you as you caught your breath in quick heaves. His gloved hands, still tangled in your hair, pulled your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. One full of tongue and lips and teeth and the hot panting of breath. 

“Did I serve you well, Captain?” You panted, your hand coming up to feel the stubble of his jaw. His green-blue eyes lightened in such a beautiful way it nearly stole your breath from your lungs. 

“Very well, songbird.” One of his hands untangled itself from your hair and grabbed at the wrist that was connected to the hand you were currently still rubbing your clit with. He yanked your hand out of the front of your pants, making you give your own whiny huff of frustration. “Let me show you how thankful I am.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as Buggy brought your fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them in a way that your caught breath falling out in a throaty moan. “Ye-yes, captian.” Buggy pulled your fingers from his mouth, that funky laugh of his filling your ears.

He shoved you down, your back hitting the smelly wooden floor making you give a great huff upon impact. Buggy unbuttoned your pants before you could even think to reach for them and yanked them, and your underwear, down your legs where they collected around your ankles. 

A yelp escaped your lips as he yanked you closer, putting your bound ankles over his head so your knees hooked over his shoulders. 

“So fucking sexy, baby.” He said before running his warm tongue through your dripping and needy folds. You moaned out his name, pulling yourself upwards as best you could. 

“Taste so fucking good.” He murmured against your pussy before clasping his mouth around your clit, sucking it in a way he had learned you liked from night after night of practice aboard the Going Merry. His mouth fell away only to dip into your folds, pushing into you and lapping up your juices like some rabid dog. 

You shook against the electric pleasure he pulling from your body. Shook and twitched and moaned against it all. Moaned so loud you were sure the whole ship would hear you, but Buggy hardly cared--you hardly cared. Not when he was eating you out like it was his last meal on earth. 

You grabbed for his hands holding your thighs in a tight grip, but found one missing. One that reappeared with a quick slap of your ass that made your hips buck upwards, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that drove you crazy. 

You fucking loved that nose of his, no matter how much he hated it himself. Loved how it made his handsome face, how it fit him so well--complimented his face just as much as his eyes did. You loved it even more when you could use it to bring yourself closer and closer to your end. 

His tongue pulled from your core, only to move it against your clit in swirling, flicking movemets he had learned to do all too well. His detached hand, ungloved now, came up to sink a finger into you. A finger that was joined by another and they both quickly found that spongy spot just about an inch up in you, rubbing it at a steady pace that brought you closer and closer and closer. 

“Buggy--oh gods. So good--baby, so good!” You moaned out, your hips moving with a mind of their own, knowing you would be unable to stop them even if you weren’t all blissed out. “I’m gonna--come. Captain, I’m gonna come.” He moaned into your pussy, keeping everything paced just right until you were clamping around his fingers and moaning out his name as buzzing pleasure shook through your body. 

You’re body fell slump, your breath ragged in your throat as Buggy pulled your legs back over his head. His strong arms scooped you up like a child, pulling you to sit in his lap and hold you close against his panting chest. 

Buggy’s face buried itself in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him that much closer. 

“Feel--feel less bloodthirsty now?” You asked between pants. Buggy growled into your neck, teeth biting at the sensitive skin there. 

“For now…but one wrong move and I’ll gut that frog-faced bastard.” You huffed in amusement, kissing his forehead as best you could.

“All that just for me? How sweet.” You joked. Buggy’s arms tightened around you all that much more, holding you like he was trying to keep you all to himself. Teeth turned into soft, wet kisses against your neck making your heart flutter.

“Anything for you, songbird.”

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Tag List: @synoname-wordsmith , @cefni , @solarrexplosion , @empressofmankind , @luvrsbian , @lostfirefly , @misadventures0fdes

[sagisongs]

‘till the wheels fall off!

pairing: reddie

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664026

warnings: none (extremely soft though)

Richie Tozier needs a friend. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll find one in little Eddie Kaspbrak.

Richie was scanning. That was a spelling word his teacher had taught him the other day. Richie might not have known how to spell it, but he knew what it meant. It meant to look for something or someone super carefully. Currently, Richie was scanning for a new friend or two, because his current best best, Stan, had gotten sick from a few kids in their kindergarten class. It was gross, he called Richie this morning and told him he had chicken pox. Someone once told Richie that one person got chicken pox from getting bit by a chicken and spread it to a bunch of people. Now Stan had it. Gross.

Anyways, Richie needs someone to play with. This isn’t his first day of kindergarten, he isn’t dumb, and he knows what happens to kids who sit alone at recess. They get sand kicked in their faces and they get pushed onto the concrete by the third graders. And that had happened to Richie plenty of times, even when he wasn’t alone, so he wasn’t risking it just because Stan wasn’t here. He had to find a friend quick.

He looked across the playground and saw a little girl playing with bugs. She seemed cool. Richie liked bugs, he knew at least every kind of beetle there was because for his fifth birthday his mom got him a big book of bugs and he had studied the beetle chapter. When he recited all the beetles his mother’s face had lit up in amusement and somewhat awe, and she praised him, saying, “Good job, Richie!”  That was Richie’s favorite thing to do. He loved making his parents proud of him.

His attention went back on the blonde girl when he watched in horror as she picked a bug up from the ground and put it in her mouth. Suddenly Richie did not think she was cool, nor did he really wanna be friends with a bug eater. Sometimes Richie ate pretty gross stuff like strawberries dipped in Cheese Wiz or bananas and hot sauce when his parents weren’t at home, but he would never eat an actual real live bug.

Richie’s gaze shifted and he adjusted his glasses. He knew Henry and his meanie friends were gonna come by any second. He ran across the playground and started walking towards the sandbox when he saw… a three year old sitting on the edge of the sandbox? The three year olds have their recess way earlier than kindergarten, what is this little baby doing on the playground? Richie was good with babies though, he has like two little cousins, so he could handle this. He’s gonna make sure this little kid goes right back to the class where he belongs. So Richie plops down beside the brown-haired toddler and goes, “Wasn’t preschool recess two hours ago?”

The smaller boy looks up at Richie with confusion in his large, brown doe eyes. “What are you talking about?” Richie squints at him. What is hetalking about?

“You’re in preschool, but this is kindergarten play time,” Richie says as if it is plainly obvious.

The short boy frowns. “I’m in kindergarten. Just like you,” He says defensively.

Richie laughs. “No way, shortie, you have to be like three.”

The other boy is not laughing. In fact he looks quite upset. “I’m six! My birthday was in September!” He huffs, his cheeks flushing with anger.

Oh. He’s older than Richie. Richie is only five, but his birthday is in seven weeks, he’s counting. He has 51 days until he’ll be six, but he’s not gonna tell some six year old baby that. So he decides to introduce himself. “The name is Richie Tozier, and you are?” He asks, turning his nose up and speaking in a posh British accent, doing what he called his Butler voice.

The quaint boy next to him smiles and crinkles up his little button nose “Why’re you talking like that? You sound funny,” He remarked.

“You think I’m funny?” Richie’s eyes lit up. He loved it when he made people laugh or smile, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“No, I said you sound funny, that doesn’t make you funny,” The boy responded matter-of-factly, blinking those large chocolate eyes.

Richie thought the boy was pretty adorable. He looked like a cute little baby and he seemed okay. Maybe he could be Richie’s new friend. “Hey, kid, what’s your name? I told you mine but you didn’t tell me yours.”

The boy grimaced slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t call me kid. My name is Eddie.”

Richie laughed. He could think of at least fifty nicknames with that name. “Okay, Eddie Spaghetti!” He replied with the first rhyme that came to mind. Richie was good at coming up with rhyming nicknames. That’s how Stan became Stan the Man.

Eddie’s face dropped into an expressionless smile. “Don’t. Ever. Call me that name ever.”

Richie laughed. Stan said stuff like that to him all the time too. But it’s whatever, because Stan was his best friend and nicknames are what you give to people you love. That’s something his dad taught him. So he gave Eddie this nickname to show him he wants to be his friend. But before he officially became his friend, he was gonna have to ask a few things about him first. “Do you like Star Wars?” Richie asked. This was a deal breaker. If Eddie didn’t like Star Wars, he would have to just find a new friend.

At this question Eddie’s eyes widened. Then he scooted a little closer to Richie and began to whisper. “Okay, you can’t tell anyone because my mommy said I couldn’t see Star Wars, but my dad took me to see The Empire Strikes Back and I think it’s my favorite movie ever. It was so cool I loved the part when they fought with the lightsabers and the spaceship when super fast and then there was a cool chase and—,” Eddie’s excited, speedy talking was abruptly interrupted with some slight wheezing coming from the smaller boy himself. Richie’s face dropped in horror for a second. Was Eddie gonna die? Cough up a slug or something?

Eddie lifted his shirt up slightly, exposing some baby fat and a blue fanny pack with dinosaurs on it. He tucked his shirt behind the fanny pack and unzipped it. Richie watched as he put something blue in his mouth and took a deep breath before resuming his sentence. “And Luke Skywalker was so cool but Han Solo was even cooler and then my dad said Princess Leia was badass and I wish I could see the next movie,” Eddie pouted.

“Well, why can’t you? You said your dad took you to see Episode 5. Why can’t he just take you to see Episode 6 when it comes out?” Richie asked, as if it was plainly obvious.  This kid was kinda dumb…

Eddie looked down at his small hands. “My daddy died.”

Richie’s cheeks heated up and his mouth formed an o. “Oh…” He didn’t really know what to say, but he knew that people got really sad when people died. “Uh, well we’re friends now, so you can go with me to see it!” He offered, smiling at his new friend softly.

“That would be fun,” Eddie said, smiling back, showing one of his bottom teeth missing.

“So what’dya say Eds, are we pals or what?” Richie said, putting his arms around Eddie.

Eddie giggled softly before replying with, “I told you not to call me nicknames, Richie. But yeah, we can be friends,” He held his hand out to Richie.

Richie linked his pinkies with Eddie and thought of a promise to make. With Stan their friendship pinky promise was “Till death do us part,” even though Stan had protested saying that’s a promise for married people. But Richie didn’t care. He loved Stan and that was that. But what would his promise be for his friendship with Eddie?

“Hey, Eds…what are some of your favorite things?” Richie asked, hoping to get an idea of what their promise should be.

“Hmm… Well I like that shark movie and Star Wars and I like playing CandyLand with my mommy and I like playing with racecars, they’re my favorite toy,” Eddie concluded, digging two Hot Wheels out of his fanny pack and putting a fiery green one in Richie’s hand, himself keeping the orange and blue car.

Richie held his pinky out, and Eddie gave him his. “We’re making a friendship promise, it’s gonna make sure we stay friends forever, no matter what.”

Eddie looked skeptical, but he kept his pinky linked with the bug-eyed boy’s.

Richie smiled at Eddie and said, “I, Richie Tozier, promise to be best friends with you ‘til the wheels fall off, Eddie Kaspbrak!”

Eddie only giggled. “What does that even mean Richie?”

Richie answered back, “It means we’re gonna be best friends forever ‘cause we aren't cars and there’s no wheels to fall off!”

Eddie laughed again before concluding the promise with, “I, Eddie Kaspbrak, promise to be best friends with you ‘til the wheels fall off, Richie Tozier!”

And from that moment on, the boys were never seen without one another.

[decino]

Alfie: Alex's first detention, I'm so proud

Vince: Whoa, back up. Why did he get detention?

Richie: It's cause he's an idiot

Nico, terrified: H-He can do that?!