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#the point is that they should all come together and work it out
aingeal98 · 2 days
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Ultimately the resolution of Jason and Cass fights comes down to the fact that while he has his own ideals that don't mesh with the bats, Jason can be flexible. DC skipped the whole reconciliation with the family but while he's willing to kill it's generally a means to an end to him, not the whole entire point unless you're talking about Joker. Meanwhile for Cass the question of killing vs not killing is dead serious to her which means any time they're working together and things start going off track it's like:
Jason: Look if we kill this guy we send a message to his boss which makes it easier for us to negotiate with him from a position of power and I just think that-
Cass, snatching one of his guns and pointing it at her own head: Go on, pull the trigger. Kill him. Kill me. Go tell Batman that you let his daughter die to make a negotiation easier. He already let you die so no problem right? You think we should die? You think our life only worthwhile as part of a plan, just because we're killers? Are we doomed? Are we rotten to the core with no hope of redemption? Go on then, kill us and kill part of your soul alongside it. You clearly don't care for it so why are you even trying? Kill yourself along with us, come on Jason let's all just die right?
Jason, slowly backing away: I think you may be projecting a tiny bit so just. Calm down before I call the suicide hotline please.
Cass, slowly lowering the gun and knocking the random henchman unconscious: Yeah that's what I thought, fucking pussy.
Jason: Mm yeah you know what I hate you actually. Fuck this mission I'll just shoot you right now if you're going to be this annoying about it.
Jason, explaining things later to Dick: So I just kept shooting at her until I ran out of bullets and we both calmed down enough to call a truce. We tracked the guy down and didn't kill anyone but I did blow up the batplane just as a last minute screw you. Is she always this uh... intense?
Dick: Yeah, one time I broke up with Barbara and she threw me out a window. She's just like that.
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Listen, can we get recognition of the son and father relationship in s8 please.
"Huh." Hens eyes follow the back of Bucks retreating back as Bobby looks on as well. "I thought he would have a bigger reaction than that. He was so desperateto get rid off Gerrad." Hen pondered, looking at Bobby who had stepped in the station now fully back as Captain of the 118.
Everyone had celebrated at the news...
Except Buck, who was subdued at best when Bobby announced he was back at the helm of the station.
"Wonder what that's about." Bobby frowned, his stomach already churning at what was to come.
What came next was nothing.
At least nothing from Buck.
No chats, no hugs, no smiles, and no interest in cooking for the team or even helping Bobby cook.
Buck was fine when it came to communicating during calls. Ever the professional.
Too professional for Bobby's liking.
And it didn't go unnoticed by the team.
He had tried to approach Buck about before the end of the shift during his fourth day back but Buck had rebuffed his efforts to talk.
They hadn't talked since he came back, Buck wasn't even talking during team dinners.
Sure he would talk to Eddie, Hen, Ravi, and Chim- all smiles and laughter with the team.
But it was just silence with Bobby.
Bobby had it by day 7 of his return and vowed to actually confront Buck at home.
(Bobby refused to be upset about not realizing that Buck had moved in with Tommy at some point. How had Buck not told him that? That was a really big life changing decision and milestone)
(Of course Bobby had missed the irony of him being upset at Buck)
He drove the extra 40 minutes from DTLA to Silver Lake, he had thankfully been able to find Tommy's address through some old work emails.
"Bobby? What are you doing here?" Tommy asked once he opened the door.
"Is Buck here?"
Tommy's jaw ticked at that, "He's out for a run, should he back soon." He opened the door wide and stepped aside. "Come in."
Bobby nodded in thanks and came into the house. He had to admit to himself, he and Tommy weren't close. It always felt as though they both were keen on putting a wall between them, that line between being professional and overly friendly. Bobby knew why his own reason for doing so, it just took for Buck and Tommy to be dating for him to put together Tommy's reason for the wall as well.
He didn't know what to expect when stepping into Tommy's house. But it felt warm and lived in, it was neat but there were a few knickknacks here and there, pictures of random sites and people with Tommy (including a lovely framed photo of Tommy and Buck at the awards ceremony), and a lot of plants.
He also noticed a few familiar items that he was sure belonged to Buck.
"Can I get you something to drink? Juice? Tea? Water?" Tommy offered, leading them towards the kitchen.
"Waters fine, thanks." Bobby took a quick look around the kitchen, taking a seat at the kitchen nook table.
"So...any particular reason for the drop in visit?" Tommy asked, sounding blase as got three glasses of water, setting aside one on the kitchen island.
Bobby nodded and gave out a meek thank you as Tommy sat from across him.
"I-uh, I'm not sure." Bobby admitted, he looked up at Tommy quizzically. "Has Buck told you anything? I mean, has he been different recently?"
Tommy arched a brow at that. "Bobby, if you're asking if I know why Buck has been giving you the silent treatment at work, you can just ask outright."
Bobby's eyes widened and he knew his mouth was hanging open as well. "So you know the reason then?" He asked the other man cautiously.
Tommy nodded, twisting the glass between his hands.
"Can you tell me why? I've been trying to figure it out but he won't talk to me." Bobby pleaded, "He's acting weird around me. He doesnt want to talk, doesnt want to help me out with cooking duties. He doeant even call me Cap anymore."
Tommy nodded sagely. "I know."
"Can you tell me why?"
He watched as Tommy looked crestfallen at that and sighed before explaining to Bobby. "No, because it's not my place and Evan knows he can trust me. And as much as I respect you Bobby, I respect my boyfriend more."
Bobby pressed his lips together, mildly annoyed and impressed that Buck had found a partner that had his back like this.
Bobby rubbed his face tiredly, shoulders slumping in defeat as he mumbled. "Yeah."
"Safe to assume he's doing his job, right? Responding to calls and orders." Tommy leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "He's talking and treating you the way he typically would with another captain. You put on the uniform, respond to calls, take orders, and go home."
That had Bobby sit up straight. He felt a weird sense of deja vu at the words- he was unsure if he had said the words before or if someone else had. It felt familiar and bitter all at once.
Tommy looked at him with an imploring expression.
"Because this is a job and not a family." Bobby finished hollowly....
He had said the same thing to Tommy and the rest of the 118 when he had started as Captain.
He said the same thing a few times to Buck too after Buck had started at the station, but it never stuck.
Buck had wormed his way into Bobby's life and heart. Despite trying for all the years to make sure he had never treated Buck differently, he knew he had a soft spot for him.
Athena knew.
Hen knew.
May even knew.
A part of him knew that Buck was aware of it too.
Which was why Bobby was at his ropes end in trying to figure out how his relationship with Buck was now at the step before first step.
It was though they had pressed the reset button on their relationship it this time, it was Buck making sure that they weren't a family.
"Exactly." Tommy pointed at him knowingly, a sad smile that had Bobby feeling more guilt ridden for their relationship.
"Tommy, I-Im so-"
"Y'know the one thing I admire about Evan? Is that he's selfless and resilient as hell, but he's not gonna force someone to love him and he's not gonna settle either. It's either all or nothing, which I definitely appreciate because I want it all with him." Tommy's smile was fond, "I know Evan cares for a lot for the people he considers to be his family, I just wish that they thought the same for him."
Bobby frowned at that, thinking hack to the times where he and the others had been there for Buck when he was hurt.
He was about to retort back when he heard Buck's voice and foot steps approaching them, "Hey baby, you wouldn't mind if we skip the movies toni-"
Buck froze on the spot, his demeanor switching quickly to something darker and moodier as he asked Tommy "What's the captain doing here?"
Both men stood up but only Tommy went to Buck's side.
"He wanted to talk to you." Tommy explained gently, he rubbed Buck's back in comfort. "I know you're pissed but it might help to talk to him. Even just to get closure." Tommy advised.
Bobby frowned at that, still unsure to what led to Buck essentially giving him the silent treatment.
He watched as Tommy whispered something into Buck's ear and saw how Buck's eyes widened and hardened again. His looked straight at Bobby with a disappointed frown.
"Just talk to him." Tommy pressed, "You might get some answers you've been wanting to get." He kissed Buck on the temple ans squeezed his hand, "I'll be in the living room if you need me, okay?"
Buck nodded, letting their hands linger and trace over their arms as they pulled away. "Okay, yeah."
Buck licked his lips, rubbing his face tiredly with the bottom of his shirt. "You really don't get why I'm so angry at you?" He asked Bobby, his voice heavy with confusion, hurt, and frustration.
"No," Bobby stressed, waving his arms out in frustration. "Honestly Buck? I don't get where any of this is coming from. I figured you of all people would be relieved that I would be coming back."
Buck nodded, not in agreement but just because as he slumped down in the seat that Tommy had vacated.
"Yeah," Buck sighed, "but that doesn't undo what you did, Captain."
It was the Captain that did it.
It was the final straw.
Bobby slammed his hands against the table. "Damn it, Buck. What the hell did I do in the first place? What exactly?!
Buck took a deep breath in, his blue eyes dark and wide but his voice was rough- on the verge of tears as he told Bobby "You were planning on leaving and you didn't even bother to tell me."
For all the bubbling anger that Bobby had felt, it only took Buck's shaky voice to break his demeanor.
"Oh."
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sugarushwriting · 2 days
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vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)
jay isn’t happy with your decisions
neither is sunghoon
jake or heeseung
they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them
straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!
next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.
do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.
where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?
the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.
as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.
“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.
“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”
you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”
“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”
“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”
the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”
well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.
jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.
you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.
you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.
your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.
you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.
he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”
it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.
you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.
he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.
“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.
jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”
“but—,”
jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.
jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.
“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”
his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.
he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.
he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.
you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.
jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”
another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.
you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.
he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.
jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.
your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.
“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”
your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”
you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.
another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.
he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.
your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.
he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.
fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.
“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”
if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!
he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.
not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.
he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.
“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.
jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.
all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.
his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.
your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.
it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.
you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.
you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.
you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.
jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.
but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.
you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.
“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”
you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.
jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”
jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?
footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.
sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.
“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.
“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.
sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”
his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.
you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.
“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.
this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.
your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.
your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”
sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.
“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.
your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.
you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.
maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.
you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.
you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.
your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.
all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.
hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?
you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?
with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.
heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”
wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!
you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.
that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.
heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.
he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.
“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.
you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.
you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.
his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.
not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.
“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.
now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.
your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.
it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.
you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.
you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.
it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.
“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.
your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.
your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”
you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.
“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.
you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.
“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.
“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”
and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.
jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.
you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.
between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.
he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.
jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.
jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”
your mouth was so dry.
jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.
next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.
jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.
“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”
and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.
you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.
jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.
jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”
you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.
once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.
you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
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pickingupmymercedes · 3 hours
Text
A smile like that - Lewis Hamilton
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pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: playful, silly and sassy
wordcount: +1k
a/n: Lewis was smiling and so were we❤️❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
______________________________________________________________
I should’ve known what would happen the moment I sent that text.
So, the secret ingredient to you is a shitty Friday and some drama, then?
When Lewis has something to prove, he really proves it. Not just to himself, to the entire world.
And in typical Lewis’s fashion, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to boost about it, even when I’m literally working.
I’m properly miffed as I storm into his driver’s room—no knock, no warning. Just righteous annoyance, fully loaded and ready to fire.
I can’t let him get away with this one, I tell myself. Not today.
Not after that ridiculous Instagram post. I was working, for God’s sake. Interviewing drivers, doing my actual job. And he’s out there, posting photos like it’s some romantic movie.
I should stay mad at him for at least a good ten minutes, minimum. Really drive the point home this time.
But as I catch sight of him, slouched on the couch with that ridiculous grin, my resolve wavers.
Damn it. It’s like trying to stay mad at Roscoe.
He’s still in his Mercedes shir, looking far too pleased with himself, his braids peeking out from under his cap, sweat glistening on his forehead.
Honestly, it should be illegal for someone to look that good after sweating like they do on those cars.
“Oh, hey, love,” he says casually, not even bothering to look up.
Oh, we’re going with casual now.
I close the door with a deliberate click and lean against it, crossing my arms. “Do you want to explain yourself?”
He finally looks up, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What?”
I scoff, unfolding my arms as I march toward him, pulling out my phone with the offending evidence.
“This” I practically shove the screen in his face. It’s his Instagram post, the one where he posted a photo of himself gazing down at me in the media pen with: Had to make sure her smile was also because of me.
It takes all my restraint not to groan aloud. Because honestly, the audacity.
Lewis leans back, completely unfazed, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You were smiling though?”
“That’s not the point, Lewis,” I deadpanned, even though, yes, I was smiling.
But of course I was. It’s impossible not to when he’s around, and that’s exactly the problem?
I hate how he does this to me. One minute, I’m determined to stay mad, the next, I’m grinning like an idiot just because he threw me a smile. It’s infuriating, and yet…
Yet here I am, standing in front of him, and no matter how much he drives me up the wall my traitorous heart does a little somersault because he’s sitting there, giving me that crooked smile like he’s some damn rom-com lead who just said the most heart-melting thing in the world.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together like he’s gearing up for a negotiation. “It’s totally the point.”
I blink at him. “You seriously posted this just to see if I’d show up here?”
“Well…” He pauses, his eyes flickering over my face as if he’s gauging just how annoyed I really am. “That, and because of your text earlier. You know, the one about my shitty Fridays ?”
I raise a brow. “That was sarcasm.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, not buying it for a second. “I was just making sure you had a smile like that for me, too.”
God, he’s infuriating.
I huff, but it’s weak. “You know, I was working. Like, interviewing drivers. Doing my job.”
Lewis stands up, taking slow, deliberate steps until he’s standing right in front of me, way too close for comfort—except it’s always comfortable with him. “And one of us was making sure the most important person in the room was smiling.”
Oh. Great. He’s bringing out the charm now.
“You’re unbelievable” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it anymore.
“And yet, you’re here” he says, stepping even closer, his hand brushing against mine.
I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch, betraying me. “Don’t get used to it.”
He smirks. “Too late”
I let out a long-suffering sigh, even as my heart betrays me, pounding a little faster.
His hands find my waist, warm and steady, and with one gentle tug, I’m pulled into him.
I tell myself I’m still annoyed, but the way his fingers trace small circles against my back makes it impossible to hold on to that thought for long.
The scent of sweat and his signature cologne fills the small space between us, and I hate how comforting it feels.
I should be making a point here.
Instead, I find myself leaning into him, my cheek pressing against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding my own.
Because it’s Lewis, and no matter how annoying or cocky or insufferable he is in these moments, I’m always going to melt when he holds me like this.
And should I say it? The words are there, right on the tip of my tongue.
Once I say them, there’s no going back to the easy banter, no covering it up with another snarky remark.
But he deserves to hear it. Especially today.
I lift my head slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. His teasing grin has softened, replaced by something quieter, something that makes my chest tighten.
“You know,” I murmur, my voice a little more vulnerable than I intended, “I’m really proud of you.”
He freezes for just a second, his eyes searching mine. And then his grip tightens, just slightly, like he’s anchoring himself. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, cautious, like he doesn’t quite believe it yet.
“Yeah.” I nod, the corners of my lips tugging upward despite myself. “Never doubted you, not for a second.”
For a moment, something flickers across his eyes, and I know this means more to him than he’s letting on.
Lewis can put on a front, make jokes, tease all he wants, but deep down, this sport is his entire world, and today had been a good day.
After a Friday where nothing went right, after a car that was fighting him every step of the way, he still pulled through. And I’m proud. Proud because I know how much it takes, how much he gives.
He lets out a breath, resting his forehead against mine. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
I grin. “Part of the job, remember?”
He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m still gonna hold you to that smile thing, though.”
I snort. “You’re so needy.”
It’s ridiculous how comfortable being in his arms is—how easy it feels, even if it shouldn’t.
I tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze again, my hand sliding up his chest to rest just above his heart.
“So,” I say, my tone casual but laced with a hint of something more, “tomorrow…”
His eyes darken with interest. “Yeah?”
I give him a coy smile. “I could make it worth your while if you get a win.”
He raises a brow, his grip on my waist tightening. “Oh? And what exactly does ‘worth my while’ entail?”
I shrug, playing it cool. “Guess you’ll have to win to find out.”
He groans dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine again. “Now I’ve got pressure.”
“You love it though” I tease, throwing his words back at him.
He pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m holding you to this.”
“Good. But this is if you win.”
He pouts, an exaggerated look of defeat crossing his features. “Podiums are awesome too! Come on, at least give me top three.
I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm, tempting… but no.”
He shakes his head, but he’s grinning now, his dimple making an appearance. “You’re ruthless.”
“And you love it” I say again, and this time, I mean it in more ways than one.
“Okay,” he says, his tone amused “but when I win, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re that confident?”
He smirks, leaning in just close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. “You just gave me one more reason to be.”
There it was again, that damn confidence. How was I ever supposed to resist that?
The heat of his body seeps into mine, making my pulse quicken, and for a second, I realize he’s the one with all the control here.
“Good,” I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “Now go do whatever it is you do here.”
He watches me with amusement as I head toward the door. “Leaving already?”
“Yeah. Some of us have work”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable”
“Stole my line Hamilton” I glance over my shoulder, giving him a wink “But now you’re the one smiling.”
______________________________________________________________
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shytastemakerthing · 19 hours
Note
Ooooo I think I’ve noticed this being being a thing across some other fics & HCs and stuff, but would you be willing to do headcanons for Vil with a yuu (where he somehow found out about their feelings) who wouldn’t confess to him about their feelings & tried to get over him because they were worried he’d brush them off as typical paparazzi/fan behavior because he’s so used to it?
Hello and thank you so much for your request! I am sorry that this took so long to get out, school and work have been rather crazy right now XD, I hope you enjoy!
Tw: None
A/N: Reader is stated to be Yuu
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It was safe to say that you were not the first person to ever have a crush on the Vil Schoenheit, but you were certainly one who was in his presence more than some of the others
It was only a matter of time before such feelings would develop, especially with how often you two crossed paths, and how often you found yourself in his dorm
But there was absolutely no way that you could tell him such a fact
After all.... who were you compared to him?
He was a world famous celebrity, top-class model, a highly skilled actor
You were just.....nobody
A magic-less nobody from another world who didn't even belong to this world, especially the one that he lived in
If you told him, the chances were high that he would simply see this as some joke, or the typical fan behavior that he is quite used too, and there was no way that you would ruin the friendship that the both of you had just because of how you felt
Perhaps that is why you started to put a distance between the both of you
Last minute cancellations of study plans, doing your skincare at Ramshackle, stops at his club becoming less and less frequent, the works. Anything that would work a gradual decline in your time around him
In hopes that these feelings would soon diminish, no matter how it hurt
Oh, but a follow you were to not think that Vil would certainly take notice
At first, he didn't think much of it. He knew that Crowley, the worthless and lazy headmaster that he was, kept you rather busy. Not to mention that gremlin cat of yours followed by your first-year friends
But then more suspicions arose... as if you were actually actively avoiding him
Now he really didn't know how to feel about that
It wasn't until several key points were stated by Rook (stalker), when Vil began to piece it all together
Especially noticing how empty his heart had been feeling, how lonely, he felt when you weren't at his side
Why wouldn't you have just come to him about such feelings? How could he turn you down? Did you think so little of yourself? Perhaps you did, and he would certainly need to correct that
Which is probably what led him to the steps of Ramshackle, actually compiling each and every ounce of strength that he had to actually dome to the rundown dorm to see you, standing straight and knocking on the door.... honestly hoping that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt
"You should never hide your feelings from me, Leibling. Especially if you do not know if they are reciprocated or not. Hm? Well, it would seem that this is my confession to you. Will you accept?"
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Have a wonderful day/night!
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Hello! Are there any fics about Nanny Crowley and Bookseller Aziraphale?
Thank you^^
Hi! Here are some nanny Crowley and bookseller Aziraphale fics...
I Hear You're in Need of a Nanny by emptymasks (G)
Aziraphale was trying his best to raise his son on his own, but at a certain point it was difficult to be running the bookshop while also keeping his eyes on Oscar all day. Crowley liked working with children, and children liked him, they’ve just always been drawn to him. A lot of people prefer hiring a female nanny to a male one, and as much as he thinks it’s a little ridiculous, it works out fine for him. He was happy to identify and present as female and tap into his maternal instincts. He’d been wanting to take a job closer to his apartment, but there’s not that many people wanting to hire a nanny in Soho; then he comes across a job advertisement in the local newspaper posted by a Mr. A. Z. Princer. When he meets Oscar, he finds a little girl tired of being told by the world that she's a boy. Single Parent! Aziraphale & Nanny! Crowley, Human AU
The Demon on Her Shoulder Has Her Back by Barely_a_human (T)
"'Hi, Crowley.” “What did you need, dear?” “I’ve- uh- been kicked out of my house. I don’t know where to go, and it’s raining. I’m sorry for bothering you, but you said I could call if I needed anything, and right now I need a grown-up that would be on my side.'" or Crowley adopts a young trans girl named Eve, and she get's to witness the almost-apocalypse, as well as Crowley finding love with an angel, from an outsiders perspective.
dancing queen (guaranteed to blow your mind) by Quilly (T)
Warlock has a secret, and it's that he invited three former staff members from his estranged parents' household to his wedding in the hopes that one of them is the one Nanny is still in love with. Crowley is just wondering what entity he pissed off to make three of his old flames show up the day before his adopted kid's wedding.
Connection by AppleSeeds (M)
In March 2020 when the UK goes into Lockdown, Crowley is faced with the unenviable task of homeschooling Warlock. A silver lining emerges when Warlock starts attending literature classes on Zoom run by local bookseller Aziraphale, who Crowley finds extraordinarily attractive. Crowley jumps at the chance when the opportunity arises to actually talk to Aziraphale away from Warlock and his classmates, and the two of them begin to build a friendship via Zoom. When they realise their friendship could be the beginning of something more, they explore ways to feel connected to each other until the day comes when they can finally be together in real life.
Millennial Blues by comicgeekery (E)
Aziraphale is a standard retail bookseller trying to make ends meet. One day a man named Crowley shows up with a flyer for a variety show looking for new acts. And, well, Crowley is handsome and Aziraphale has been lonely...and working on some magic tricks. What harm could a bit of light flirting do? It all should be fine as long as no one asks about his past...
- Mod D
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l-in-the-light · 3 days
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Why is Law more stressed, more serious and often grumpy and annoyed in Wano? Thought he would be relieved after Luffy defeated Deflamingo 🤔he couldn't even relax at the banquet 😑
Broody Law is actually my favourite Law, which means I enjoyed him so much in Wano ❤ But why is he delivering behaving like that, indeed? Let's summarize the Wano experience from his side, shall we?
his alliance with Strawhats gets sidetracked because Luffy went to Big Mom to retrieve Sanji. He barely avoided a conflict (not really)
he's stuck at Wano, worrying his ass off for Luffy, hoping he's not left with half of Strawhats crew to take care for forever now
everyone is dying of hunger and getting sick in Wano, because they can't stop drinking water from the polluted river
Luffy finally arrives, Bepo gets sick, Luffy in the meantime does The Worst Thing Possible and Law's efforts to patch up the situation do not work out
Luffy snaps and runs off to fight Kaido
Kaido bombs away Strawhats and Hearts crews while Luffy and Law are already near town and can't do shit about it
he fails to stop Luffy from fighting Kaido
he fails to stop Kaido from putting Luffy in prison
freaking Hawkins getting in his way
crews turn out to be fine, but freaking Kinemon soon leaves to find remaining Akazaya samurais. Now the whole raid plan and making sure it's not exposed is Law's job. On top of that, he needs to take care not only of his Heart Pirates, but also Strawhats, because their captain is in jail. Two crews, a raid plan and the weight of 20 years of revenge is all hanging on Law's neck.
freaking Germa (he's a Sora follower, ok)
he almost throws it all away when Hearts get put in prison
he's got accussed that his crew is crap and he should just kill them off, all that coming from his very own allies he's been taking care of for last couple of weeks!
freaking Hawkins again
getting tortured (just another monday morning amirite)
finding traitor and making sure the raid doesn't fail in the process. Is Luffy finally out of that prison, what is he doing there? Or maybe, that's for the best, he can't make the situation even worse...
Luffy arrives late to the raid and late to the rooftop battle
Luffy brought freaking Eustass Kid to the raid
Luffy is ordering him around in front of freaking Eustass Kid
Luffy tells him to get along with freaking Eustass Kid
Zoro-ya almost died on his watch
Kurashi-ya (literally) caught him in a middle of an embarrassing blunder
Eustass Kid is behaving like a newborn baby and Law has to babysit him
LUFFY BROUGHT FREAKING BIG MOM TOGETHER WITH HIM
now it's Law's job to fight Big Mom. He didn't sign up for this!
Luffy nearly drowned in the sea while fighting Kaido
Luffy lost and died while fighting Kaido
Luffy got revived and won against Kaido
Law had to make bigass room, bigger than anything he made in Dressrosa, probably cutting down on his lifespan in the process
Law has to take care of stuff no one cares about after the raid succeeds, which is taking care of the ships, searching for the poneglyphs (no one but him cared for that in the middle of the raid!) and probably patching many, many people up
he ends up stranded with Robin in some moldy underground chamber for hours, while being seriously exhausted, sleep deprived and in the middle of recovery from his injuries
he doesn't join in the banquet out of spite (no one told him about Jimbei joining the Strawhats. Is Law a joke to them?!), besides just in case a certain Luffy would assault him there, make him go all night long eating and playing around and celebrating, all the while probably bugging him to become a 100% part of the Strawhat crew or at least extend their alliance to together forever status.
And that's just the major things listed! I'm sure I missed some details here and there.
Overall, I think he was stressed and exhausted, because he was carrying a lot of responsibility (and the stakes were extremely high!), at certain points almost the whole raid plan's success was depending solely on him, while others merrily ignored the dangers. He also had two crews to take care of for the whole arc, constantly worried himself over Luffy, got pissed at Eustass Kid and had to cooperate with him (he hates that dude!), and at the end of it his world got almost turned upside down in worst possible way (Luffy dying and raid failing as the result, and the vision of all of them dying flashed before his eyes).
As Bepo reveals to us in the midst of Winner Island escape, Law wants to stay behind with his crew even if it kills him and needs to be reassured that no one is dying there. That suggests Law doesn't deal well with people close to him dying, which shouldn't surprise us after what happened in Flevance and later also to Cora-san. I'm sure Wano hit Law harder than we expect, because there he was, finally believing in people again (Luffy), only for Luffy to die on him as well. Old issues must have resurfaced and his fear of losing people worsened as the result.
I think we should cut him some slack, shouldn't we? Wano was definitely not a walk in the park for Law, especially psychologically-wise. Though to be fair, he could relax and laze around a bit, we see it happen, right before Strawhat Luffy waltzes into the country. That was the last time we saw him actually calm and resting, so I guess that alone gives us another answer to your question as well ;)
And then his alliance ended, and we know Law doesn't like dramatic things, which also means overly emotional goodbyes. It was probably pretty difficult for him to part ways and maybe he thought it would be easier if he avoided Luffy for most of the time after the raid finished. And then Chopper went and almost blew all his efforts up with his warm send-off! Law owes a lot to Strawhats and his debt is only getting bigger, but it won't change his withholding personality.
Did Law find peace after Mingo was defeated? Not exactly, because I don't believe Doflamingo was Law's end goal. Just take a look at his reaction when Luffy finally wins:
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Everyone is crying and celebrating, but Law's face looks like this instead. Does this look like a face of a person who finally got rid of his demons and is set free? What about Flevance, are we forgetting that? Law has a lot on his plate, Mingo was simply one of the obstacles in his way (but an important one!). If you want to know more about what I think about Law's end goals, I wrote about it here: https://www.tumblr.com/l-in-the-light/761556630027616256 (the topic starts somewhere around the second picture). That's why I don't think he is at peace or that his revenge is over and we shouldn't expect him to completely "move on" or reach perfect closure just because Mingo is now out of the picture.
There's one exception though. I do believe Law is showing his emotions more openly after Dressrosa. And I think it's actually a sign of him healing and partially moving on.
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Because just look at this. Law was always annoyed with his beloved Cora-san as well, and yet we never doubt he loved him dearly. In Wano Law is acting the same way towards the Strawhats, openly showing when he's annoyed and angry. That's how he shows affection and worry. Compare it to Punk Hazard, when he's always holding back, stoic and cold, keeping his comments and reactions to bare minimum. Dressrosa changed everything in Law's emotional department. And the result is that he did open up to his allies.
Also I feel like it's my duty to remind the world about this, often overlooked, fact: so far Law celebrated in the feast exactly one time, in Dressrosa. He didn't join in on Punk Hazard, Zou or Wano. So it's not really a "Wano thing", but more like Law almost always choosing other things over feasting ;) personally, I think it's because of that "30 minutes on festival" rule he had in his household as a child. He's probably not used to just playing around for hours. Besides, we should never underestimate Law's pettiness. Not joining the celebration might have been as well just a petty payback of his, for every offense that happened to him in Wano, lol.
I'm not sure if you liked my answer, anon, but I hope you at least smiled a bit when I tried to mimick Law's grumpiness in this post :D
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cuubism · 1 hour
Text
last year I saw this 1989 Dreamling art by @webonchin, became extremely obsessed with it, pondered and mulled over it for much time, and now ten whole months later I have a fic
--
my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder
Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, 1989 Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Meeting, Musician Dream of the Endless, Stockbroker Hob Gadling, Love at First Sight, Getting Together, New York City, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Queer Themes, Disillusionment, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, tfw you meet someone who makes you want to change up your whole life Summary:
Despite Hob's success on Wall Street, life is starting to feel meaningless. Limitless sex, drugs, and money should be endlessly entertaining but instead he's bored, he feels empty, like something's missing.
Something, maybe, like the beautiful, tragic musician he meets at a party, who opens more than one new door in Hob's life--and reawakens the buried longing in his heart.
--
Hob lies on the couch of the crowded apartment he’s found himself in for the evening, head tipped back over the arm. Pounding music thumps distantly around him. Dim lights. Warm bodies moving in blurs. He ignores it all. Picks up his vodka soda from the coffee table and takes a swig. Half of it runs over the side of his mouth instead of into it.
He’s… bored. What’s wrong with him that he’s bored surrounded by as much drugs, sex, and general debauchery as he could possibly want?
But he is. All that climbing for so long and now… he doesn’t know where he is. Why he’s doing any of it. The climb, the growth, was fun for a while. Chasing hunger, chasing more, that was fun. But now he has all of it. Supposedly.
He sighs. Pours the rest of his drink inelegantly into his mouth. If he wants another one he’s going to have to get up. He doesn’t really feel like getting up. He feels like merging himself with the couch instead.
The party spins on around him, as it always does. Not everyone’s feeling as burnt out on sex, drugs, and debauchery as Hob is.
He could go track down some coke, he thinks hazily. Someone here’ll have some. Maybe it would kick his energy back up.
He just feels kind of tired at the thought.
It says something bad about the point he’s reached in life that even cocaine isn’t doing it for him anymore.
“This is very dull,” says a low voice, and a man slumps down beside him, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. He tilts his head back, looking up at Hob. “Do you think so?”
“Yeah,” Hob says, and then does a double take as he catches a proper look at the man.
Christ but he’s gorgeous. Nothing like the men Hob would normally see at a thing like this—nothing like Hob himself—with their fashionable suits, slick hair, slicker smiles. This man is lithe and sprawling, like a wild predator, stark black and white lines, spiky hair, dark makeup, studs flowing down his ears like raindrops. Clever eyes. Long fingers clutching a cocktail that he doesn’t seem particularly interested in.
Hob is instantly fucked.
“I was promised good drugs and better sex and I’m bored on both counts,” the man continues. He takes a sip of his drink, and grimaces.
“That why you’ve come over here?” Hob asks. “Because I looked equally bored?”
“Exactly.” He offers the drink to Hob. “You should try this.”
Hob takes it. It’s… very blue. “What the hell is this?”
“There was a girl working the bar… very drunk. She said she would make me her ‘special potion.’”
That sounds… questionable. Hob takes a sip, and chokes. “Christ.”
“I witnessed her pour in vodka, Prosecco, and tequila. Blue Curaçao—for color, of course. And maraschino cherries.” He plucks one out of the glass by the stem—there are about seven of them total—and eats it.
“What the fuck.” The stuff’s revolting. Hob takes another sip. “That’s alcohol poisoning in a glass.”
“It’s been one of the better parts of the night,” the man says.
Hob returns the glass, and the man tosses more of the drink back, his throat working. Hob’s just drunk enough to not attempt to stop staring like a creep. He wants to ask him if he wants to get out of here, or even just to steal away into one of the many spare bedrooms—it wouldn’t be out of place at a party like this, hell, Hob could drag him into his lap on the fucking couch, everyone’s far too drunk to care—but propositioning this creature for a mere hookup feels like wearing an Italian suit to mud wrestle. What a waste of a perfectly-made thing.
How did something like this wind up at this party?
“Who’d you come in with?” he asks, as the man plucks another cherry from the glass and delicately bites it off the stem.
“Someone who gave me a rather mediocre blowjob after a show,” he says. “I suppose I thought I would find better here, but I was mistaken.”
“Fifty-fifty shot on that, I’d say,” Hob says. Based on personal experience. Sometimes mediocre is good enough. Sometimes sex, regardless of quality, is good enough. For a while it has been. He’s not so sure anymore.
“I dislike betting,” says the man. Then stretches up a limp hand to shake Hob’s. “If we are to commiserate, perhaps names are in order. I am Morpheus.”
Morpheus. What kind of name. Though he had said at a show. A performer of some kind? “Hob,” says Hob, shaking his hand despite the awkward angle.
“Greetings,” says Morpheus solemnly. “You are the first man I’ve met tonight who has not tried to impress me with inanities. I am indebted to you.”
Hob tips his head back against the arm of the couch again with a sigh. “Too tired for bullshit. What’ve people been saying to you, then?”
“I have been taught much,” Morpheus says seriously. “Thrice I have been ‘educated’ on the great promise of ‘mortgage-backed securities.’ The reactions to my disinterest ranged from offense to outright concern for my sanity.”
“I think they were just trying to get in your pants,” Hob tells him.
Morpheus frowns. “The finance lecture was not helping their case. In fact, with each passing minute, I became more aggressively repelled.”
Hob laughs. “You’re on Wall Street, baby,” he says. It comes out kind of slurred. “Only thing more important than the size of a man’s dick is the size of his portfolio.”
Morpheus hums in consideration. “Neither of those has a direct correlation to talent.”
“Try telling them that,” Hob says.
Morpheus sits up straighter against the couch, leaning his head on his arm to study Hob. “I suppose I should ask about yours.”
“You’re too pretty for me to be tacky like that,” Hob says honestly. Maybe he’s a bit more drunk than he thought.
“Am I?” Morpheus seems pleased.
“So pretty.”
“Hmm.” Morpheus rests his cheek on the couch cushion. The tips of his hair brush Hob’s hip. His eyes are so liquid in this light. Hob wonders if he’s hallucinating his existence.
He reaches out, mesmerized, to touch Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus doesn’t stop him. He lets Hob pet him, eyes falling shut. His hair is tacky on the ends with hair spray, but soft underneath.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Hob says, and Morpheus hums. “All those self-important stockbrokers trying to impress you with their convoluted financial instruments… they just want to hide that it’s all really a scam.”
“Is it now?” says Morpheus. “I was under the assumption it was legal.”
“Something can be a scam and technically legal. Oh, it’s all very clever. But it’s just building money on top of money with nothing real to support it. Kick out the base of the tower and it’ll all go into free fall.” He makes a whistling, falling sound, and Morpheus smirks.
“And I suppose you are better than all this.”
Hob chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m a money-grubbing little vermin, too. Just letting you in on the game. How it’s not so serious.”
“Hmm. I am a musician,” says Morpheus. As Hob figured, then. “I’m afraid it’s as serious as death.”
“Hence the all-black ensemble and the makeup,” Hob says.
“Indeed.”
Hob wants to hear Morpheus play. Or sing, or whatever it is he does. He bets he’d be exquisite. Divine. Hob can imagine those lips pressed to a microphone. Or those long fingers on guitar strings.
“Do you want something more interesting than alcohol?” says Morpheus.
“Why, you still bored?”
“Less and less so.” He pulls from his pocket a small bag of pills and hands it to Hob.
“You brought your own drugs to a party where you were promised drugs?”
“Promises cannot be counted on,” says Morpheus seriously.
“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them.
“Ketamine,” says Morpheus. Oh, great, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.”
He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet.
“The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.”
Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like.
“No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”
“There’s only so much money you can make before it starts feeling stupid,” Hob says. Maybe he should just throw all his cash out the window and go live in the woods or something. Carve figurines out of fallen trees. Probably do more good for the world, not that that’s ever been a focus of his. “Maybe it was always stupid.”
“No solution has been found for us yet, then,” says Morpheus. “Would you care to go outside? I find that if you are high enough, the city lights look like stars.”
“You’re not going to jump off the balcony, are you?” Hob asks, suspicious.
“This is not the right locale for my dramatic end.”
Somehow, Hob actually believes him. Morpheus wouldn’t truly kill himself unless it could have the right effect.
Hob levers himself up from the couch. Oh Jesus, now the room is spinning. The pounding music is starting to feel louder, starting to thud through him. Feels good, though. Everything being bright and hazy.
He helps Morpheus to his feet. Leads him, hand in hand, out to the balcony. They lean against the stone wall, looking down at the street, dizzyingly far below, cars poking along like lines of luminescent ants, distant horns crying. Then up, out at the collision of skyscrapers.
Morpheus was right. The lights are spinning and twinkling, just like stars. It reminds Hob of the first time he’d come to New York, when he was looking for adventure, and to get a little rich—or a lot rich—and everything had seemed like it was glowing and buzzing and flying.
The air is clearer up here than down on street level, and Morpheus tips his head up, breathing it in. His throat is so long, his shoulders and collarbone so angular. He looks like he’s been starving. But the stud in his ear at least looks from afar like a real ruby. Intentional, then, to be skin and bones.
“I think I am tired,” he admits, still looking up at the sky. “Do you know that… all I had ever wanted was for someone to like my music. And now I have that and it has not fixed anything.”
Hob takes his arm and pulls him close. He’s feeling very touchy-feely now, which could be the drugs but could also just be Morpheus. He’s so pretty and he looks so sad, and his sadness is beautiful and all the more terrible for that.
“I could kiss it better,” he offers. It’s still not a real proposition. Hob’d just kiss his hand if that’s what he wanted. Or the sharp bone of his sternum under those hanging necklaces. Or kneel at his feet and kiss his thigh—
Christ. Hob’ll be lucky if he survives the night, at this rate.
Morpheus looks at him, eyebrow raised. But Hob must look serious about it, because he says, “Okay.”
So Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. And Morpheus smiles, a bright, truly happy smile, just for a moment.
“Do you wish to dance?” he says. “I do not usually, but I feel I may fall over if I move from this wall without something to hold onto.”
Yeah, the floor is kind of moving. And Hob will certainly not turn down having Morpheus in his arms. “You wanna dance to this shit?”
They’re playing some godawful thumping grating song over the speakers now, and Hob doesn’t think either of them is up to the kind of bouncing thrashing dance that would call for.
“I will sing something different in your ear,” Morpheus says.
So Hob draws him in, wraps his arms around his waist. Morpheus plasters himself to Hob’s body, mouth to the shell of Hob’s ear. He starts humming a low, melancholic song. Hob shivers at the brush of his voice.
They sway together with very little coordination. Eventually Morpheus starts singing, though Hob’s brain isn’t capable at the moment of taking in many of the lyrics. It’s something about longing, and losing things in a terrible fire. Hob presumes it’s one of his songs. Morpheus’s voice is gorgeous, low and hypnotic, and Hob closes his eyes as it rumbles straight through him.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs eventually, filled with a sudden tragic pain about it. “Please don’t throw yourself off the balcony.”
Morpheus chuckles. “Another time, perhaps.”
“Never,” Hob says vehemently, and clutches his warm body close. He might cry about it. Fucking drugs. “We should go get food. You’re so fucking bony I think might you die of an overdose if we don’t sop it up. You had that wretched drink, too. Christ.”
“You are worried for me?” says Morpheus, sounding touched.
“Incredibly. Come on.” Hob finally pulls away from him, with chagrin, and takes his hand. “This party’s shit. I’ll take you to get pizza.”
“Pizza,” Morpheus repeats, with a tiny smile. It’s gorgeous on his face. “Very well.”
--
One dollar pizza is one of New York’s greatest inventions, in Hob’s opinion. They find some hole-in-the-wall place barely a block from the apartment building, and stand outside the door, eating incredibly greasy pizza off of paper plates, and it’s fucking heaven. It might be the best pizza Hob’s ever had in his life—granted he’s still very high.
Morpheus is scarfing his down like all pizza on earth is about to be chucked into space. Poor bony thing. Hob just wants to feed him up until he stops looking like a skeletal waif that’s about to drop dead at a cold breeze.
And wants to fuck him, too. Yeah, that’s still there, even with Morpheus licking grease off his fingertips. It’s actually getting worse because of that.
“Told you,” Hob says. “Needed some bread to soak up the fifteen shots in that drink.”
“I think I may throw up,” Morpheus says, with the careful articulation of someone who very well might. “But I am enjoying it nonetheless.”
“Let me know and I’ll find you a bin,” Hob says. He’s had worse nights than puking on the street corner.
“Now I owe you sexual favors in return for this generous meal,” says Morpheus, folding the empty paper plate with surprising precision, considering his enduring level of intoxication, and sliding it into a nearby trash bin.
It says something about Hob’s own level of intoxication that he barely responds to this statement. “Oh, yeah, the whole four dollars of it. What does that get me?”
Morpheus scrunches his nose in thought. “Two kisses,” he decides.
“We’ll save it for after you’ve decided if you’re going to throw up.”
Morpheus giggles. He’s so cute.
Hob tosses his own plate, and takes Morpheus by the arm. “Come on. You can come back with me. I don’t live that far.”
“Ah, now the proposition,” says Morpheus, but doesn’t sound unhappy about it.
“The ‘make sure my new friend doesn’t get hit by a cab effort’, more like, but sure.” He feels kind of responsible for Morpheus now. If Morpheus actually threw himself off a balcony Hob would never forgive himself.
“Friend,” repeats Morpheus, sounding pleased.
“See, isn’t this better?” Hob says.
“Better?”
“You got to eat pizza and didn’t even puke yet, isn’t that better than killing yourself?”
Morpheus huffs. “Quite a dichotomy. If you recall you too stated that you felt your efforts becoming meaningless.”
“Yeah, but I’m not gonna jump out a window about it.”
“Fortitude,” Morpheus says, and it sounds mocking but Hob doesn’t really mind. Maybe it is fortitude, he doesn’t know. Maybe to Morpheus fortitude is gullibility, continuing to play the game when it’s long lost its spark and its reward. Hob likes the game, though.
“What will you do about it, then?” Morpheus asks.
“Dunno.” It’s the first time Hob’s really thought about it. Up until now, it’s been about chasing. Always wanting more. But now— now he’s basically at the top. Where he wanted to be. And... there’s really nothing there at all. “Leave New York, maybe.”
The words surprise him, even as he says them. Midtown is so bright, even at four a.m. It’s something Hob once loved about the area. About the city. But now he’s staring into Morpheus’s darkness. Into the ink stain of his hair against the glowing storefront lights, the sway of his body, graceful even while swimming in dissociation. And everything feels different.
“To go where?” says Morpheus.
“Back to London, maybe.” He has enough money to go anywhere. And yet, it’s hard to feel a particular point to anywhere. Where’d his sense of adventure go? His ambition? Somewhere it all slipped, in the glut of the present.
“I grew up in London,” Morpheus says. “It is too personal there, now.”
So he’s chasing something too. Or running away.
“Tokyo, then,” Hob says, as if Morpheus coming with him is a key part of the decision. “Is’at the furthest city from New York? Gotta be close.”
“It’s Perth,” says Morpheus.
“You’ve looked it up?”
Morpheus nods solemnly. “And from London: Wellington.”
“It’s settled, then,” says Hob.
“I am coming with you?��� says Morpheus.
“Course.” Hob’s not going across the world by himself. Not anymore. He bumps his shoulder with Morpheus’s, squeezes his arm where they’re leaning together. “You’re coming with me.”
“We should go further, then,” says Morpheus.
“Antarctica?”
“Mars.”
Hob finds himself giggling, mirth rising in him like champagne bubbles. Morpheus giggles, too. It’s truly a ridiculous sound in his deep voice.
“They don’t have cool jackets on Mars,” Hob says, poking at Morpheus’s studded blazer.
“Ah.” Morpheus frowns. “Maybe not, then.”
That only makes Hob laugh louder, leaning on Morpheus’s arm, and Morpheus sighs, irritated to be made fun of, but doesn’t push him away.
“Come on, I’m here,” Hob says, steering Morpheus into his apartment building as it comes up. They make their way across the lobby and to the elevator bank, only a little unsteady, and then slump against the wall once the elevator doors close.
“I think I am very sleepy,” Morpheus says, tipping his head back against the mirrored wall as they go up, up, up the insanely tall skyscraper Hob’s for some reason chosen to live in.
“You think you are?”
Morpheus squints at the infinite tunnel being created by the opposing mirrors on the walls. It’s dizzying, more so now, when they aren’t exactly sober. He shudders and closes his eyes. “I would have to be connected to my physical form to know for sure.”
Yeah, Hob’s feeling that too. The walls are kind of tipping in at him, which is particularly uncomfortable when they’re mirrored. “I’ll put you to bed, sweetie.” He still really, really wants to bed him, more specifically, but he might also be about to fall over. He’ll rue the missed opportunity in the morning, but it can’t be helped.
“Sweetie,” Morpheus echoes, with vague distaste, and tips his head against Hob’s shoulder.
The doors slide open, and they stumble out into the hall. Hob somehow manages to get his keys in the door and get them inside without dropping Morpheus, who’s now using him to support almost his entire weight, and then gets them into the bedroom.
What follows is a dreamlike whirlwind of undressing, where the floor keeps tipping under him, where he tries to hold Morpheus up as he slips out of his boots and his bloody complicated jacket, his skintight jeans and even tighter shirt, helps take each ring off his slim fingers to leave carefully on the nightstand, and the pendants too, and gives him a t-shirt to sleep in, and Morpheus says, “Wait— I must—” and flees to Hob’s adjoining bathroom to strip off his makeup with some makeup wipes scavenged from Hob’s cabinet, undoubtedly left behind by a prior hookup. The silly thing talks about killing himself but still puts effort into skincare. Hob just shakes his head, then regrets it as it makes the room spin.
He strips down to boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, because he is actually about to fall over, and soon enough Morpheus stumbles back out and collapses into the sheets beside him. For a moment they just gaze at each other in the dark. Hob means to do something, to kiss him, maybe, claim one of the ones that was promised. But exhaustion claims him first. 
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buddie911abc · 2 days
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Latest Thoughts on the Latest Interview
"Guzman, however, promised that Eddie is trying. This is a journey. An ongoing one." Eddie has “so much healing to do before he even thinks about being the whole version of himself. He’s going to have to kind of rework his idealizations of the past and start to implement what he’s learned in the present.”
If we assume that the show is going to reveal Eddie to be gay, then I think we can feel assured that the reveal will be in season 8. However, I don't think we will get canon Buddie this season. If the journey is going to be long in regard to understanding himself, I don't see how he could do that, unpack his feelings for Buck, confess to Buck, have Buck come to his own realization, confess that he feels the same way, and then officially get together. If that happens in a short time, it will feel rushed. That said if the show were to do a time jump after Eddie has accepted who he is and in that time he has worked on his whole self during that time jump, the show would be in a better position to have him connect the dots for himself in regard to his feelings for Buck. It still may not end with Buddie canon, but the arrows will be clearly pointing to it.
At any rate, my read of Eddie was that he has always known that he feels attracted to men. The reasons he has stayed closeted have been touched on more in the last few seasons. (Catholic guilt) My hope was that his big realization would be that he has feelings for Buck, and this realization would force him to reexamine all the reasons he has pushed down and away his real attraction. The interview makes me think the story will not go in this direction. So even though this is my preference, I'm still more than willing to follow the story the writers are telling in the hopes that they do it justice, and taking it slow really should make it better. I do love the slow-burn trope, so I'm open.
As I read that last paragraph, I realized even more that it can't go in the direction I was hoping because the Kim storyline is already out there. Losing Chris is forcing him to reexamine himself, though not necessarily his attraction.
Where is this all going? I'm rambling now. lol
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buckysgrace · 3 days
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5. You Broke Me First
Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
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You enjoy your time with Steve.
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Life without Patty was nice. Even if it had just been a few weeks. Two to be exact. Fourteen days with no drama, no petty arguments or feeling like you had to prove yourself to be something. It was nice, refreshing.
The realizations made you feel guilty, but your grandma had said it was probably for the best. You were allowed to feel thankful for Patty’s kindness at one time, but also able to move on from that point. You didn’t have to owe her for the rest of your life. 
Every single day was spent with Steve. You drove to work with him in the mornings, shared breaks with him, rode home with him at night. Usually you snuck over to his, as you were too afraid to have him over after the last conversation with your grandmother. But you feared she knew about your sneaking out as well. 
You felt comfortable, more relaxed than you had been in a long time. You had never felt so spoiled, so desirable. It was intense, but in the best sort of way. 
But now you were stuck. Technically you were still a part of Patty’s stupid idea despite her going silent on you some time ago. You had no way of confirming if she still wanted to do this. But most of all, you had no way of really telling her that this was off. That you weren’t sure if you wanted to do it.
You didn’t.
You supposed you could come clean, but the very thought of hurting Steve made you sick to your stomach. It was even worse when you looked at you with those big brown eyes, full of adoration and joy. You couldn’t be the one to break his heart. There was no way. 
“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, breaking you from your thoughts of watching the water ripple against your fingers that were dipped into his pool water. His floaty was next to yours, bouncing against you gently with the drift of the wind. 
You turned towards him, breathing in the soft look in his eyes. You loved to stare at them, loved how big and gentle they were. You traced your eyes over the curve of his nose, then over his freshly tanned skin. You were close enough that you could see a few freckles across his skin. 
“Nothing.” You replied a second later, gulping harshly as you weren’t able to come up with an answer. You didn’t know what to tell him, how to explain the web that you had tangled yourself into. 
“Right,” He chuckled as he brought his thumb between your eyebrows, “You just had this intense look in your eyes for nothing.” He pointed out, as if he could see you behind your sunglasses. 
“My car,” You lied, swallowing roughly once again, “Just trying to think about how much more I need to save up.” You nodded your head quickly, not wanting to spoil the moment between the two of you. 
“Patty should pay for it.” He said as he turned away, pressing his sunglasses over his face once again. You blinked at him in surprise. 
“I let her in the driver’s seat.” You replied as you furrowed your eyebrows together, feeling like you’d been through this conversation many times.
“So?” He asked you seriously, leaving you a little surprised. Apparently he was the only one who didn’t think it was entirely your fault. 
“It’s my responsibility,” You grinned, mimicking your grandparents speech, “It’s fine. I just need one before you leave.” You teased him, dragging your foot off of your floaty to nudge your toe against his warm skin.
He was quiet for a moment, not at all phased at your antics as you stared at him in confusion. He hadn’t said a lot about college, but you figured he’d at least be gone by the beginning of the new year. 
“I think I’m going to quit my job. Family Video is hiring.” He said at last, making you blink in confusion. You tilted your head, not understanding where that was coming from. But perhaps he’d had enough of what his dad had said. 
“What do you mean?” You asked him, shifting on the rubber beneath you so you could look at him better. He exhaled roughly as he linked his fingers over his stomach. 
“Summer’s ending,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t think ice cream sells very well in the winter. Plus, I can finally get out of that stupid uniform.” He grumbled, racing his fingers through his hair as you thought about it. 
“I like the uniform.” You admitted, pulling a smile to your lips as he snapped his head towards you. You thought it was geeky, but it looked very good on him. You especially liked the tuft of hair that stuck out from his shirt. 
“You do?” He looked at you stunned, lips parted as you felt an amused grin forming on your lips. It felt wrong to admit that he looked attractive, but you weren’t going to think about that at the moment. 
“It’s very sexy,” You teased, “I enjoy it quite a lot.” You grinned, reaching across to press your fingers gently against his shoulder. His skin felt warm against yours. 
“Oh.” He flushed for a moment before his lips curled into a grin, smiling brightly like you had just made his whole year. 
“But if you want to sell movies, I won’t mind that either. You can pick out the best ones for us to watch.” You added as you thought about it, tilting your head as you tried to remember all of the new movies you had missed recently. 
“I can do that,” He grinned, looking flattered by the suggestion, “What’s your favorite movie?” He asked you curiously, gripping the arm of your floaty and pulling you closer to him. You wrinkled your nose at the sound of plastic rubbing together. 
“Hm,” You thought about it for a moment, racing through your options, “What was the one we saw together? You know, when you got all frisky at the movie theater?” You grinned mischievously as you thought about it, not missing his little gasp. 
“Ha,” He chuckled, cheeks burning as he looked at you, “You’re funny.” He shook his head, his laughter mixing with yours as electricity settled over your body as you thought about that event. He hadn’t failed to make you feel fiery since then. 
You both settled into a comfortable silence after that, your fingers linking with his over the water as your floaties continued to bump against one another. You crossed your ankles, the area between your thighs still sore from earlier today. 
“Do you want to come over for dinner?” You asked him suddenly, turning to face him as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his sunglasses nearly toppled off. 
“Tonight?” He asked you for clarity, making you press your lips into a smile as you nodded. You figured it was about time. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to sneak around as much. 
“My grandma always makes something,” You told him, “And your fridge is bare.” You reminded him, thinking of the very bare sandwich the two of you had shared earlier. You were getting hungry and you figured he must be too as he was always snacking. 
“I need to go shopping,” He admitted, nodding his head in agreement. He hadn’t once mentioned where his parents had been since you’d been coming over, “Sure. That sounds like fun.” You wiggled your way out of the floaty, gasping as the cold water hit your skin before you made your way to the ladder. He followed closely behind. 
“Just don’t let them be weird,” You told him quickly, “Because they like to embarrass everyone.” You pouted as you thought about it, hoping they wouldn’t pull any embarrassing stories out. Although Steve probably knew them all. 
“Or you just don’t like being teased.” He told you, passing you a towel as you began to dry yourself off. You stared at your pile of dry clothes, hoping they’d feel good from where the sun had been roasting them. 
“That too,” You agreed with him, “I’ve never brought a boy over before.” You told him playfully, taking a quick glance around before you shifted your swimsuit off your body. You no longer felt embarrassed about being naked in front of him. 
“I’ve been the only one?” He asked, grinning at the subtle way you nodded your head, “I’m flattered.” He told you, eyes lingering against your body for a second too long before you shoved your wet swimming suit at him. 
You headed down the familiar path once you were both dried and dressed, trying not to fall to your knees as Steve linked his fingers with yours. You liked the feeling of his skin against yours, how large his hand was in comparison to your own. 
“Steve,” Your grandpa nodded at him once you had made your way inside, “Good to see your face. I’m used to seeing your back as you leave.” He grumbled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the TV. 
“Grandpa.” You hissed, eyes wide in fear as you felt your insides warming in embarrassment. You wished they could just act casual for once. 
“Just saying,” He held his hands up innocently, “I hope you like meatloaf.” He replied, grinning as he sent him a little wave. 
“I do,” Steve nodded his head along, cheeks still flushed, “Thank you.” He nodded as he glanced around, brown eyes breathing in the new decorations within the house. Nothing special, just the occasional item your gran found at garage sales. 
“Hi,” Your gran piped up, moving forward to give him a big squeeze as you tried not to hide your face in embarrassment, “It’s been so long.” She rocked him back and forth for a minute, leaving you with a smile on your lips. 
“Yeah, it’s been a few years since I’ve been here.” He said seriously, lips curling into a polite smile once she released him. She gave his cheek a little pat, making you roll your eyes at the way she doted on him. 
“Well, since you’ve been in this kitchen,” She clarified, making the two of you gape in horror at her casual revelation, “But you can tell me how well you like the touch ups.” She said in a sing-song way before she shouted at your grandfather to join them at the table. 
“They’re great,” He squeaked out, “Really nice.”  He ran his hands through his damp hair a few times, eyes flittering towards you for a brief second. 
“Food looks amazing,” You said next, trying not to die as you sat down across from him, “Thank you.” You told her honestly, glad there was no tension despite their teasings. 
“We should pray,” Your grandpa muttered as he held his hands out, one for you to grab and the other for Steve to take. It was the same routine every night. You clasped your gran’s hand next, nodding your head toward Steve, “Any requests? Maybe no early pregnancies?”
“Grandpa!”
Dinner was surprisingly well, despite the little digs they kept making at the two of you. You huffed underneath your breath the entire time, wondering why they wanted to torture you in such a way. 
“I was so upset you stopped being friends in high school,” Your gran started as she scooped another plate out for Steve. His eyes widened, apparently not planning on three servings, “But people do grow apart. And then back together.” She added, smiling sweetly at you. 
“Yep,” You agreed, feeling the embarrassment sinking into your bones, “That happened.” You weren’t sure why you invited him here in the first place, but it wasn’t so they could act like you were going to marry him. You weren’t even really dating. The whole thought process made your stomach twist and churn. 
“She’s pretty special,” Steve spoke up, making you jerk your gaze towards him once again, “I was dumb to let her go before.” He added, eyes locking onto yours as your throat suddenly felt too dry to speak. You didn’t know what to say, or what to do. You forced a smile, suddenly filled with guilt all over again.
You both took the role of cleaning the dishes while your grandparents retreated towards the living room after dinner, discussing something that one of the church leaders had said today. Their gossip was something you didn’t care to hear about at the moment. 
“Why are you still friends with Patty?” He asked you suddenly, eyebrows furrowing together as soap leaked off of his fingertips. You blinked in confusion, unsure of where that had come from. 
“She’s not that bad,” You said softly, “She took me in at school.” You shrugged your shoulders, supposing that a bad friend was better than none at all. She knew all of your secrets too, so she couldn’t be that bad. Maybe just whiny, but you still cared about her. 
“Yeah for her own selfish reasons,” He shook his head, “She’s kind of a bitch.” He mumbled underneath his breath, leaving you stunned. You hadn’t heard him ever say that before. 
“You weren’t the nicest either.” You reminded him gently, not trying to start an argument but wanting him to understand where you were coming from. He jolted at your response. 
“I’ve changed,” He defended himself, cheeks reddening, “She’s still the same. I don’t want her to hurt you.” He mumbled, fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a plate to dry. You felt a bit better suddenly, getting down to what he was upset about. But he didn’t need to worry about her hurting you. He needed to care for himself. 
“I haven’t spoken to her in a while anyways,” You told him honestly, “Why did you break up with her?” You asked softly, even though you had heard the story a hundred different times. 
“What did she tell you?” He asked suddenly, making you pause your motions for a second. You chewed on your bottom lip. 
“That you had gotten tired of her,” You started, trying to word it as carefully as you could, “Basically you dumped her for someone else.” Nancy Wheeler to be exact. And that was the nicest way you could explain it. 
“Yeah,” He laughed, “I caught her in between fourth period with her hand down Carl Johnson’s pants. It wasn’t working out anyways.” He said with a little shrug, smiling at you as you thought about her story once again. Perhaps a few pieces were off. 
“Oh,” You blinked slowly, “She never told me that.” You muttered, furrowing your eyebrows together as you wondered what else she had lied about. Hopefully not anything. But it didn’t make you feel very ecstatic about your situation. 
“Why would she?” He asked as he brushed his fingers across your palm, “It doesn’t make her sound very appealing.” You nodded your head in agreement, figuring that you owed her a call. 
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hucowboyification · 18 hours
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poolverine+21 pretty please with dom logan 🥺
21- You think a brat can get a reward without begging?
Being tied up by Logan was always good. It usually meant that Logan wanted to have his way with him, letting out all of that feral energy on a helpless (well... as much as he could be. Wade wasn't good at being totally helpless) victim.
Those times were always good. So were the times Logan tied him up and stabbed the shit out of him. He always deserved that, and the tender sex afterwards would be to die for, if that was a thing either of them were really capable of doing.
But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what the fuck the point of tying him up, gagging him, and leaving him on the bed. For fuck's sake, he wasn't even naked!
Logan had tied his arms behind his back, while his legs were tied so that they were spread open, thighs and calves bound together. His protests were almost entirely muffled by the fabric gag in his mouth.
All in all, not the most fun situation. And girls do just want to have fun. And by girls, of course he meant brats. (He always did prefer Bratz to Barbies. Maybe they should make a new movie about them instead.)
So, as quietly as he could, he squirmed closer to the bedside table, where of course he hadn't put away the cute little vibrator he'd been using last night. So convenient. With a well-aimed nudge, the vibrator feel from the table directly into his lap. Dislocating a hip in order to press the button with his knee was no big deal; the pain would just make the reward all the sweeter.
And then- oh, fuck yes. Ordinarily, a small vibe through his pants wouldn't feel particularly incredible. But, as a reward after being unfairly bound and left to simmer? It was the best thing his dick had ever felt.
But all good things must come to an end, and so it didn't come as a surprise that Logan noticed almost immediately. It was easy to forget how good his senses were at times, but the buzzing of the tiny vibrator must have been like an alarm bell for him.
In just a few strides, Logan was in front of him, tossing the still-buzzing toy carelessly to the side (where it promptly ceased moving, most likely permanently), then placing a hand on his chest to pin him down.
"You think a brat can get a reward without begging?" Logan hissed, claws digging just hard enough into Wade's throat to draw blood. Wade made a muffled noise through the gag, and Logan dug his claws in deeper. "You're such a fucking brat, Wade, you can't even go twenty minutes without trying to get off. That's how long you were gonna be tied up. Twenty minutes. Y’know how long you lasted?"
Wade shook his head, so Logan leaned in close, whispering harshly into his ear. "Five fucking minutes, Wade. So, how about, for every minute you couldn't be fucking patient, you get edged? How's that sound, you insufferable goddamn brat?"
And fuck. That sounded awful. It sounded so horrible, and fuck yes, he wanted it so so bad. (Punishments, as Logan was still learning, never really worked as punishments for Wade.)
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angel-gone-dark · 1 day
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Kyle x Coquette girlie pretty please with sugar on top. 🤭
Kyle x Coquette!F!Reader
ok so like. i went off here. um, hope you like it bestie LMAO
CWs: unprotected sex, reader is a little bit of a shit, maybe a lil rough?
SMUT UNDER CUT. MDNI.
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Kyle raised a brow at his friends in the hallway, who were all in various states of confusion. 
“What the hell are you all staring at?” He snipped, and Cartman pointed across the hall.
“Dude, look at her outfit. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 
Kyle looked over at the girl who had been pointed out. She was surrounded by the other girls, talking and laughing. He was entranced with the way she moved, flipping her hair over her shoulder. He’d never seen someone dress the way she did, her outfit consisting of white lace and pink bows. The mary janes on her feet clicked against the tiles any time she shuffled her pose. He swallowed, forcing his eyes back onto his friends. 
“Yeah? What, uh, what about it?” He asked.
Cartman cocked his head to the side, “What is she even going for?”
“Who cares, it works,” Kenny grinned. “She looks fucking hot.”
Kyle couldn’t help but agree. Her skirt was short over her tights, shirt showing off the smooth skin of her shoulders. He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of it pressed against him, especially the skin on her chest and thighs. He had to take some deep breaths, attempting to force his boner down. Kyle was saved, literally, by the bell. He dashed off to his class, trying his hardest to ignore the pretty girl- and the bewildered cries of his friends.
୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧
The ginger slid his fingers through his curls, squinting down at his textbooks in frustration. He jotted down notes, rereading them at least 5 times over to make sure they made sense. He jumped, looking up with wide eyes when he was joined at the table… by the girl he was looking at earlier. You.
“Uh, hey,” he greeted. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah, I hear you’re a really good tutor. Can I get you to look over my work quickly?” You batted your lashes at him and he was suddenly extremely glad he was sitting down. 
“Yeah, yes of course,” He nodded, taking your notebook from you to glance over your notes. “This looks really good, but I think you have an error right here.”
You hummed, nodding. You contorted your face into your cutest pout, absolutely indulging in his eyes on you. 
“I don’t understand,” you huffed, moving your chair closer to him and pressing your chest up against his arm. 
He stammered trying to muster a reply, “W-well, uh, here. Look at the way I broke it down in my notes.”
Throughout his whole ‘tutoring’ thing, you acted your absolute cutest. If you were being entirely honest, you’d had your eyes on him from the moment you saw him. You were heavily repressing the urge to jump his bones in the very public library.
“You know, I think you should come to my house after school. I could use some more help,” you suggested, leaning further into him. 
His face was tinged deep with a blush that went from the tops of his ears down, down… you gnawed your lip thinking how far it reached. 
“Y-yeah. Okay,” he gave in. “Where do you…”
You interrupted him, “Meet me after school. We’ll walk together, handsome.”
He gaped as you retreated from the library, your little date secure. 
୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧
You waited for Kyle near the school’s main entrance, books clutched close to your chest. Your sickly sweet smile returned as he approached, and you gave him that innocent look that you knew would drive him nuts.
“Hi, Kyle,” you had put on your most charming voice. “Thanks for walking me home and helping me with homework.”
“No problem,” he smiled and it nearly took you out. “Can you scooch over? I’d rather be the one walking on the outside of the sidewalk.”
Oh, he was going to be the death of you. The walk to your house was mostly quiet, Kyle seeming content with the silence.
You opened your door, gesturing for him to follow you, and led him all the way up to your room. You sat pretty on your bed, tilting your head at him. He glanced around, trying to avoid your hungry gaze draping down him. You sighed gently, combing your fingers up your body to untie the ribbon holding your hair in its graceful ponytail. He sat in your desk chair, moving his textbook over his lap.
You stood, waltzing right on over and placing your hand over the thick book between you and heaven.
“Hiding something?” You teased, pressing down on it. 
He grabbed your wrist in his hand, speaking through grit teeth, “Stop it.” 
“Or what?” You taunted. He had had enough of your attitude. 
Kyle stood, grabbed you by the hips, and tossed you onto the mattress. He leaned over you, voice strained and hands gripping the sheets. 
“You’re making it extremely difficult for me to stay decent, do you know that? You asked me to help you study, and here I am trying, and you’re giving me those goddamn eyes,” he rambled, more frustrated than you had expected. “I can’t tell if you’re giving me permission to touch you like I want to.”
“Do it.”
As soon as he had your permission he was ravishing your lips with his, his hands moving to squeeze eagerly at your chest as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat. 
“You’re so fucking pretty, honey,” he breathed, face dipping to nip at your neck. “Why can’t you be this good all the time, hm?” 
You groaned as his lips moved downwards, and he left purpley blue hickeys on your skin. Those would be hard to cover, and you would have been angrier if one of his hands hadn’t moved under your skirt to stroke your slit through your tights and panties.
“Sorry about this, but the damn things are in the way.” He huffed, ripping a hole directly in the crotch of your tights.
As you made a move to protest, his deft fingers moved your panties to the side, thumb rolling over your clit and index plunging into you. You gasped, back arching under his touch as he stretched you out, adding his middle finger as well.
“Kyle, please.” You whined.
“Please what, pretty? Use your manners.” 
“Please just fuck me.” 
He chuckled, fingers curling inside of you teasingly, “Since you asked so nicely.”
You whimpered at how empty you felt as he retracted his fingers to undo his belt and jeans, leaning up on your elbows to watch. As he pulled his cock out of his boxers, you couldn’t help but salivate. He was thick, and wet, and blushing an angry pink at the tip. It twitched as he touched it to glide it against your slit, making you moan.
He was eager, too eager to properly undress either of you. All he did was flip your skirt up as he sunk into you, his jaw hanging open as he allowed you to adjust. 
“Shit, you’re tight,” he grunted, rolling his hips harshly into yours. “Atta girl, you can take it. C’mere.”
He pressed his lips on yours again as he began to move, pace quickly rising from the simple grind of his hips to roughly pound into your cunt. Your eyes fell shut, hands clawing at your cute pink bedspread. 
“K-Kyle, fuck.” You heaved, hips bucking up into his.
“Such a dirty mouth on you, gorgeous…” He smirked down at you, thumb moving back to roll over your clit. “Do you want me to make you cum on my cock?”
“Please, please, I need it, Kyle.” You begged, all sense of dignity out the window as he plunged in and out of you with wet slaps.
“Good girl. Such a good girl,” he groaned, increasing the pressure of his tight little circles. “So cute f’me.”
His cock twitched inside you, and he dropped his drooling mouth to your neck again, biting down hard before whispering in your ear.
“I’m gonna cum inside you, honey, you can take it. Fuck.”
You couldn’t hold it any longer, the tight coil that rested in your abdomen snapping suddenly as you came with a cry. You gripped him so tight he could barely move as he ground his hips down into you, his release not far behind, spilling warmth inside of you.
“Shit,” he cursed, gently pulling himself from your hole. “If you look this good with my cum dripping out of you we might be here for a while.”
୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧
he owes reader a pair of tights!!!!
word count: 1411
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idyllcy · 10 hours
Text
lights, baby, action! - leon kennedy x reader ( oata bonus inspired by chesue)
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Leon’s supposedly retired.
Supposedly.
He’s retired at this point, busy playing dress up with your pretty daughter, stubble grown out and though his body is still fit from working out, he’s nowhere near as nice as his prime — so he says. You find that he looks just as good as before, and considering that CK has just contacted him for an independent shoot, they must think the same.
“Daddy’s going to a shoot.” You bring your daughter in the car, Leon patting her back gently as she stares out the window. 
“Guns?”
“Cameras.”
“What for? I thought daddy said he’s done.”
“This one’s for independent work.” Leon hums. “Daddy’s going to be shirtless.”
Your daughter fakes a gag, opting to stare back out the window in the back of the car, huffing.
“As long as no one’s touching him outside of mommy and me.”
Leon’s touched. A LOT. He’s told to change, boxers changed out to the CK one, white shirt pulled over his chest as he gets his makeup done, smiling at you when he catches you staring, straightening back up as the makeup artist scolds him. Same old, same old. It makes you laugh, your daughter sticking her tongue out in your arms, shuddering at his display of affection for you.
“Why does daddy have abs?”
“He works out.” You hum. 
“Is daddy doing an underwear shoot?”
“Yeah.” You laugh when Leon meets eyes with you, shaking his head as everyone’s done fussing over him. He steps over, ruffling your daughter’s hair as he hum.
“Does daddy look good?”
“Daddy looks naked.” 
“Leona, that’s not nice to say to daddy.” Leon pouts. “You look just like daddy, you know.” 
“Yeah, except mommy’s prettier.” She huffs. “Mommy’s just prettier.”
“That’s only because daddy loves me.” You push her hair to the side, kissing her forehead as he hears his name. “Wives loved by their husbands always look better.”
“Well, you must love daddy too since he’s still a model.” Leona stares at Leon’s white shirt. “Are you taking it off?”
“They might make me.” 
“You should.” Your lip quirks up teasingly, laughing when Leon leans over Leona to kiss you. 
“Ewwwww”
“Kennedy! You’re up next.” One of the interns stop by, Leon reaching for your hand as he takes the two of you to the room, white visible all over as your daughter tilts her head.
“Kennedy?”
“They call daddy by his last name.” You hum. “Ready to see daddy model?”
Leona gets out of your arms to stand, on the side as she watches Leona pose, photographer calling for Leon to change poses, shirt pulled up as Leona tilts her head curiously. She hasn’t seen Leon model ever, now that you think about it. Leon retired to raise her at home with you. It’s incredible what budgeting a supermodel’s salary could do in the long run. 
Well, not that brands had ever stopped reaching out.
What could you do? Your husband was just too hot.
Leon reaches for his shirt at the end, pulling it off with a huff as the photographer takes one last shot.
“I think that’s the one.” You tell Leona, letting go of her hand as she runs over to hug Leon.
“There’s my girl.” He lifts her into his arms, humming as she opens her mouth.”
“Leo—“
“Daddy looked really cool. Like. Super cool. I didn’t know daddy used to do that. Is that what modeling is? I thought it was just boring walking on runways.” She huffs. “Can I do that too? Am I allowed to? Am I too young?”
“It’s a risk, baby.” You hum. “Being known to the world is a risk.”
“Is that a no?”
“We can start with few.” Leon nods. “Only with mommy or daddy.”
“Mommy modeled?”
“Modeling is how I met mommy.” He hums. “Showed up looking so pretty our first shoot together.”
“Oh.” Leona pushes her hands over Leon’s mouth, huffing. “I don’t wanna hear it again.”
“You don’t need to.” You press a kiss to her cheek. “Come on. Let’s head back.”
“We’re done?”
“Yes. Let’s get home. What do you want for dinner?”
“I want mommy to make me some eggs.”
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pygmi-says-hi · 21 hours
Text
how to write romantic tension
we all love enemies to lovers but some of you get to the lovers part so fast you don't even finish typing 'enemies'. enemthey'refuckingnow to lovers. which is ok if that's what you wanna read but personally, my favorite part is the tension.
So...
Off we go!
What makes a good enemies to lovers story?
Believable tension, likeably irritating themes, and potential. Among other things, but this is what I want to talk about with the 'tension' perspective. There needs to be a good reason, obstacle, and rapport. If they're mad at each other just because, idgaf.
I want to write this but I dunno how to frame the tension?
It's kind of a tricky trope, to be honest. Enemies/rivals/foes however you wanna pitch it, takes an interesting twist on seductive emotions.
pride. a feeling of self-sufficiency, power over somebody else, or superiority. How would this play into a relationship type deal? Well:
Pride in a relationship or in regards to another person can involve a feeling of equivalence. "Do I feel unworthy of them?" "Are they out of my league?" "will the way people perceive me change if I go for it?" Social insecurity is a big aspect, and so the frustration that comes with that leads to friction because of the character's insistence on keeping their dignity. which leads me to the next point...
vulnerability. Attraction to another person is accompanied by a feeling of vulnerability and openness. This is always a hard position to be in, especially if extenuating circumstances make honesty impossible (power imbalance, politics, etc). If a character feels too vulnerable and exposed, they might shield themself with aloofness and sharp words.
desperation/yearning. They have to want each other. the only thing stopping themselves is each other. It's overcoming the above emotions to reach the point where they have no choice but to accept it. Throughout the whole deal, there should be an undercurrent of desire.
When all of those come together, it creates an emotional battle. This battle has several war tactics (hittin with the allegories today dayum)
banter. a favorite of all. wonderfully tense and combative conversation that highlights the reason for disagreement and the romantic tension. 10/10
self-sabotage. like, ohthey'resoclosetheirhandsaretouchingoooohnope. someone chickened out, heard something from someone that made them reconsider, plans changed, they felt angry and ruined the whole deal. back to square one. it's like edging your readers. (ew but you know what i mean. bring em up to bring em down)
miscommunication. "I thought you hated me." "only because I thought you did too..." love it. beautiful. or, there was miscommunication years ago that led to a deep rift when actually, it was entirely unfounded.
and many more...
Another important point:
There needs to be progress. Slow and steady wins the race, but even slow means going forward. If you throw too much tension and obstacles in the way, it gets old really fast. Give them baby steps to take. It'll keep people interested.
Internal turmoil:
Oh, that wonderful period when they know it's inevitable but they're so terrified of it happening....pick an emotional direction.
Are they scared? Hiding from their attraction? Are they angry? Frustrated that they can't have them/became attracted? Are they desperate? So in love that they act out of pure lust?
What is the character's opinion of what is going on? Pick reactions and convo that corresponds with that. Enemies to lovers doesn't always mean sass-battles and hate sex. It can also be someone cold and cut off slowly warming up. Or somebody shy and critical becoming relaxed and open-minded. there are sooooo many opportunities for good emotional depth, spice it up a little!
Things to improve on:
Working on banter/bickering. This is really funny, but the banter should have some kind of meat to it. random back-and-forths are a nice palate cleanser, but so often it just sounds petty. Incorporate plot and past disagreements with it. it'll add depth to the relationship without needing to do a prologue or exposition paragraph.
Not just making them hate fuck and then be head over heels. (I mean if you wanna write/read that, go ahead, but if you're frustrated with the transition stage, I gotchu.) It is a weird moment of going from 'fuck you' to 'fuck me' to 'ilysm'. AWKWARD STAGES ARE OKAY!!!!! It's gonna be a bit of a new thing, esp for the characters. Great opportunity for wholesomeness; if they're trying really hard to get better but don't know how?? UGHH I EATTT IT.
hopefully this provides some pointers?
xox keep writing, comment/message any questions or requests!
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varteeny1234 · 3 days
Text
I COULDN'T THINK OF A BETTER TITLE LMAO. @cursedthing this is revenge bc you got us locked in sudoku jail for 2.5 hours /silly (viking solved the sudoku on stream earlier)
Summary:
Viking's alone time is interrupted by Avid, who is concerned about the safety level of the top of the ant farm. Absolutely nothing goes according to plan for either of them!
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 1207
Warnings: Incredibly brief mention of noise overstimulation but only a mention
ENJOY THE VIVID FLUFF! (feat. catboy viking)
The many sounds of the many farms scattered throughout the Dark Oak kingdom's giant glass tube were loud enough for the average person, but for Viking, whose ears were considerably more sensitive, it often became too much and he needed an escape. Whenever this happened, he would usually end up flying to the top of the frame of the ant farm. It was so high up that it was nearly silent. 
And that was exactly what had happened today. 
There weren't many clouds in the sky, sadly, so Viking couldn't cloud-watch from above like he wished. He sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the frame, staring out at the islands below. His own kingdom was full of moving parts, all packed together. The Jungle kingdom, which was more in front of him, was full of lush plants and vines that waved lazily in the wind. 
Viking closed his eyes, feeling the soft wind blow through his hair. He'd left his hat down in the Dark Oak tube- not something he would typically have done, but he wasn't going to fly back down just to grab it. 
Up here, in the sky, all alone, it was peaceful. 
That peace was unfortunately shattered when a faint, familiar voice called out his name. 
What did Avid want with him? 
Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. A shape was flying around the ant farm, coming closer towards the top, and Viking with it. Viking debated not letting Avid know he was there, but he spotted him a second later. 
"Viking! There you are, I've been looking all over for you!" Avid exclaimed. He swooped up, then semi-gracefully landed on the frame. Viking noticed that he was wearing his OSSHA uniform, with a suspicious glance. If Avid was here on OSSHA business, it couldn't be good. He didn't trust that organization one bit. And now Avid was interrupting his quiet time! 
"What do you want with me," he deadpanned. "What does OSSHA want with me? Last time I checked, the Dark Oak kingdom is plenty compliant. And if it isn't, then you should go talk to Fix."
Avid sucked in a breath through his teeth, tsk-ing. "Well, you see, it's actually the top of this ant farm that's not compliant! There's not a hand-rail to be seen up here, so high up above the ground, where even if you didn't fall into the void there's no way you'd survive the drop..." 
Viking tuned out the rest of his rant, shutting his eyes again. He was pretty sure that any handrails added to the frame would be removed again the same day. And it wasn't like anyone was going to die from falling off it- they all had elytra now! 
"...Are you even listening to me anymore?!" Viking's ear twitched, when he tuned back in to whatever Avid had been saying. 
He simply shrugged in response. "Nah, I don't really care about your OSSHA business. No offense, of course. I just don't see the point in putting handrails on the top of this thing." 
Watching Avid splutter as he struggled to figure out how to answer that, he couldn't help but snicker. It was way too easy to break Avid's train of thought- if he had one, anyways. His brain was already all over the place 24/7!
Unfortunately, he recovered, now sporting a somewhat-offended glare. "Oh, so you think that safety is just something to laugh at, huh? Well, what happens if you're just chilling up here, and someone were to just give you a little push-" 
He stepped forwards, obviously trying to push Viking off the edge to teach him a lesson or whatever. Viking saw him coming from a mile away and, much faster than Avid had moved, kicked out his leg and hooked it around Avid's, knocking him off-balance. 
Avid toppled over and landed directly on top of Viking- who, as funny as it would have been if he had, did not plan it at all.
No one said anything. Viking and Avid stared at each other. Then, Avid grinned.
"Proving my point exactly, honey. You could fall so easily here!" He poked Viking's nose with his index finger. Between the action and the incredibly unexpected pet name, Viking found himself the one struck speechless. That wasn't something that happened often, he knew. Avid knew this, and his smile stretched wider. Both of them were now sporting a flush across their cheeks. 
Well, he couldn't let Avid win... whatever this was, could he? If he wanted to flirt, then Viking would flirt. 
Viking matched his smirk. "You fell for me pretty good, I guess." He let his hand trace over Avid's side. "Hmm... but I can't add any handrails anywhere with you lying there." 
As he expected him to, Avid froze for a second before rolling off of him. He started to say something, but Viking's plan had a step two. He flipped himself over, so that he was now on top of Avid, completely reversing their positions from a mere few seconds ago. 
"You're really easy to trap, you know that, monkey-man?" Viking teased. 
"Hey! Wait- you did that on purpose!" Exclaimed Avid. Viking laughed as he nodded. 
"Yes, I did. I remember you were saying something about handrails, honey?" For one last final touch, he called Avid by the same pet name he'd given him. 
Avid blinked, blushing madly. "Yes- Yes. Handrails. Uh- build some, please. Safety is important! Do- do that!" He stuttered. Viking felt something on his leg, and realized Avid's tail had wrapped itself around it. It was cute, how it always did that when he got flustered. He let himself lie down on top of Avid completely, his chin resting on his chest. His own tail flicked back and forth, and he smiled. 
"Nah, still don't want to. It's nice here right now. The sun feels nice." 
He wasn't kidding. The cloudless day meant that the sun was beaming directly overhead onto them, and whenever it was like that, the heat tended to make Viking's brain go all fuzzy. The combined warmth from his and Avid's bodies was only making him sleepier. 
He didn't really like to call it purring, but he hadn't yet thought of a better name for the rumbling sound he made in his chest. 
In spite of himself, Avid laughed again. "You're purring, Viking! I- oh my gosh, that's adorable! You know, I heard from Ruby that you purr when you get really cozy in the sunshine, but I've never witnessed it in person! How could you hide this from me?!" He squealed. The noise grated on Viking's eardrums. 
See, this was why he didn't purr around other people. Their reactions always ruined the moment! 
Viking made a grumpy noise that sounded like "Mmrp." 
"Aw, what, do you not want me to talk? Hey- ugh. How about a deal. I let you go and stop bothering you about the missing railings here, but you have to let me enjoy your purring. It's just so cute!"
"Sure," Viking said. "I can agree with that."
...He hoped Avid didn't find out anytime soon about the sensitive spot behind his ears. Now, that was something he would never live down.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month
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The more I see your work and the more I see of poorly drawn scum villain, the more I'm tempted to do a poorly drawn tgcf 🥺 (I've only just started listening to it and I absolutely love it!!)
I just don't think I'm as funny as both of you and don't know if I could commit to uploading as regularly as you both do.
But oh! I am SO very tempted!! 😭
Working on an adaption of an existing media as a long form project is honestly my strongest recommendation for getting your creative brain going! Of course, there is still planning and hard work that goes into it, but the biggest creative pressures are much lower (And when anxiety brain is quiet, art brain thrives!)
That said, projects like this are a huge commitment, and I'm a bit of a freak case when it comes to the grind. PD-Scumvillian and I both put a lot of work behind the scenes to make it seem as effortless as it is. I'm wholeheartedly giving you my support should you go through with it; feel free to reach out and ask for tips and tricks!
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