#these are shitty and I feel like a sap

[lacystar]

woke up from nap-- absolutely horrific dream

basically I was on a Disney cruise and Disney had bought the rights to dream smp and one of the events on the port side of the deck one night was a sapnap cosplayer in character qna (with a bad costume) and when I watched it get introduced the horror just plummeted in my stomach and fsr I was the only one on board with wifi so I immediately pulled out my phone and started taking pictures and posting them on Tumblr about the horrors I was witnessing. I then essentially became a messenger for Tumblr to the boat and from the port side to the starboard side for those who were "in the know" and I ended up hosting this live debate about whether or not it would have been worse if Taylor swift had come for a qna or if it was this. basically all the Tumblr girlies and a few people on the boat myself included were all horrified that this was happening on a Disney line, it was like having ur panty drawer raided and aired out on a boat for entertainment. and the worst part was I could hear my mom cheering the loudest bc she knows I like the dream smp and she was excited on my behalf and she was trying to text me to tell me to come see and I was just ignoring her texts like a horrible daughter because of all the secondhand embarrassment 😭

[monarchberrysblog]

TOO SWEET

summary: you join a small ride along with Miguel...

content warning: once again, taboo content; proceed with precaution. semi-exhibitionism (miguel fucks the reader in the forest and on his car), brat-taming, rough yet soft dom! miguel, OOC CHARACTER MIGUEL the reader has nipple piercings, unprotective p-in-v (please, do your own research when it comes to stuff like this), cigarette usage, a little TABOO, AGAIN.

word count: +3.2k words

author's notes: thank you @lemon2099 aka @sweetlemongrove and the discord server for the encouragement to keep writing 💜. Y'all are my mini family and I love y'all so much!

PART TWO TO GATITA

Miguel found him a stray cat, you unironically. Once he gave you a lick of attention, you came back for more, the same way a stray cat would whenever a stranger gave it food to eat out of pity. It felt pathetic that you would conjure up any excuse to see him again. Changing your car’s air filter, replacing your windshield wipers, hell, even trying your best to act dumb to simple repairs that you can do on your own. It was almost laughable and pathetic for you to do this, but you couldn’t help it.

The man always made you melt and become sap, like warm honey on a cold kitchen counter—no matter how much you wiped it off with a paper towel, the stick and sweetness lingered behind. But it didn’t take long for Miguel to catch on—the man was intelligent, for God’s sake. It was clear as day as you always took your shitty 1970 Chevy S-10 everywhere, and he would always recognize that iconic blue truck every time you pulled up for a simple repair. 

But the innocent visit was about to fall short as the excuses to see him began to fall short. So he decided to change things up, taking you out on a late-night drive.

“M-Miguel!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, clutching onto the glove compartment of the Impala, nearly snapping the fake acrylic nails off your actual nails underneath. “Shhh… You can take it, princesa.” He pats your thigh lovingly before lightly slapping the soft flesh. “Miguel, Miguel!” Your voice fell on deaf ears as you felt the wind knocked out of your lungs.

“Nothing wrong with going a little fast.”

Yep, you've accepted your faith that you were going to die from some freak accident with an extremely hot mechanic next to you. “But it’s so fucking fast!” You screamed out, clawing at the car's dashboard with your nails. Miguel glances over, chuckling at the sight he sees. He could have sworn that if you wanted to, he would have seen some parts of the acrylic break by how strongly you were grasping the dashboard before you. “But we’re barely hitting 100, princess.” 

“What?” You whined, not believing his words, as it felt like the Impala was going faster than that. “Don’t worry, we won’t be on the road too long. I need to make a pit stop. Let’s tame that little heart of yours.” Miguel chuckles before taking an exit off the freeway, finally giving you a sense of relief in your veins. “Oh, thank god, thank god…” Your exasperations never failed to bring a smile to Miguel’s face as the Impala pulled up to a nearby gas station.

The white, bright lights at the gas pumps created an ominous aura in the space, but the ambiance of familiarity filled your soul. “C’mon, let’s get something to drink before we arrive at the meet, okay?” With trembling legs similar to those of a baby deer newly born, you stumbled out of the vintage car, clutching onto the vehicle's door. “Okay, I’ll catch up soon…” 

Miguel walks ahead, stepping into the gas station while you stagger behind, taking slow, steady steps to the building. “Coming, muneca?” He calls out, holding the door open for you as you stagger in, feeling the cool, icy breeze against your sticky, sweaty skin from the summer heat. “I’m coming, I’m coming…” You mumble, stepping into the gas station to grab a small drink. 

After taking a sip of the cold beverage, the sight of the forest slowly came to mind as the corner stores and gas stations slowly began to fade behind you. This late-night drive became nonetheless soothing, nothing but the long road ahead, along with the low ambiance of music and the car’s engine. 

/

His hands grasped your wrists, and you felt his calloused hand engulf your wrist almost. “Please stay still, hermosa.” He croons to you. With his free hand, his touch roamed over your body, occasionally letting his hand caress your curves, soon letting his hand grope your breast gently before rubbing the side of his thumb against your clothed nipple, lightly grazing the sensitive bud. Your back arched slightly, moving your back away from the hood of his car and towards his body. His hand lets go of your breast before tracing your figure slowly. His hand raised your skirt slowly before seeing what awaited him. 

The gusset of your underwear decorated a thin, wet line before him. “Seems like you were anticipating for this to happen?” Without letting go of your wrists, his free hand went down to your clothed entrance to trace the soaked, thin line with the pad of his thumb. A soft groan escapes from the back of your throat before his fingers forcefully grasp the gusset and move it to the side. “Do me a favor and don’t move, okay?” He lets your wrist go and gets down on his knees to see your fluttering, aching core. “Be still, okay?” He whispers, raising your skirt more, letting it rest on your stomach. Nodding to his words, you laid back on the low rider and waited anxiously. 

The sound of fabric ripping filled the space, causing you to look down. The man ripped your underwear, specifically from the gusset, vertically with precision. At the sound, you propped yourself up on the car's hood and looked down. You can only see his soft, wavy brown hair between your legs, leaving so much to the imagination. “I’ll get you new ones, hermosa. Don’t worry, your pretty little head.”

His middle and ring fingerpad lightly traced the entrance of your folds, gathering the clear slick. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking off the clear arousal you left behind, and scooted you closer to him, dragging you down onto the hood of the car, bringing you down to his lips. “Miguel-” You panicked before his nose bumped into your clit. Your hands grasped his thick, wavy black hair, not following his words or demands. “I told you to stay still for me.” He demands, grabbing onto the back of your knees with a grasp that can be mistaken for alligator clips used to jumpstart a car.

“Sorry…!” The apology fell on deaf ears as you mewled to his tongue, licking a long strip on your entrance, letting the flat of his tongue rest on your clit. “Now, stay still, and don’t leave a mess on the hood of my car.” He gruffs.

“I just got this shit painted, princesa.” He pauses before giving your entrance a test lick before delving into you. You seethed through your teeth, feeling his mouth delve into your entrance. The bridge of his nose occasionally bumped into your clit, creating the perfect amount of friction for you to squirm your hips closer to his nose. “You poor thing…” He mumbled before licking a long strip of your core with a flat tongue. “You want it?” He croons, pulling away from your aching entrance. Your fluttering hole ached for his company again, the same sight he saw for the first time months ago. “C’mere…” He grasped onto the back of your knees, sliding you down the hood of the Chevy before your bare cunt made contact with his clothed erection. The heat from his bulge is almost too irresistible not to grind against his aching package, waiting to be accessible under your hands and control. 

You looked up from where you were lying down, and the sight before you was a sight you didn’t want to erase. Miguel kept his grasp on you but grated the aching bulge against you. “Please, please, please.” You lingered on your last plea, reaching down to his belt buckle, poorly attempting to unbuckle. “Hold on for a moment.” His hand gently grasped your wrist and moved it away from his bulge. “Let’s prep you for a moment, okay?” You nod with a breathy sigh and lay back, expecting to feel his tongue, which you don’t mind. 

But something else entered, enough for you to roll your eyes back in ecstasy and to scream out, allowing your voice to echo in the forest. “I know, baby, I know…” He quiets, planting soft kisses on your temple, keeping his ring and middle finger around your rapid, wavering walls. The soft grinding motions drew out soft mewls from you, enough to soak his fingers almost immediately. 

“Let’s raise this.” With his free hand, he reached to the hem of your shirt and yanked it up with vigorous force. The sight of two silver dumbbells was the first thing he saw before him, showing off the sensitive buds. “I didn’t get to see these last time…” With a careful hand, he caressed the soft mound before directing his attention to the sensitive nub, tracing the pad of his fingers around the areola. 

He lowers his head down and takes in a sensitive nub into his mouth, allowing his tongue to trace the silver jewelry along the sensitive nub. “Give me a second…!” You mewled out, feeling his teeth lightly tug at the barbell piercing but letting go. “I’ve heard that saliva is a good stimulant to heal this type of piercing…” He mumbles before suckling onto your nub before his fingers slowly thrust into your aching core, awaiting to be stuffed and abused. “Oh shit,” You paused, taking in a shaky breath, feeling his calloused fingers massage your gummy walls. “Oh shit…” You repeated, soon taking labored breaths. “C’mon, princess…” Miguel whispers as he pulls away from your nipple and moves to the other, keeping his fingers at the same slow pace. “Tell me… tell me that it’s too much…” He croons. “Is it too much, princess?” 

“No…” You bluff, feeling like a puddle of sap against his fingers at the slow pace. “No? Let’s pick it up, m’kay?” He innocently asks, slowly increasing the pace and curling his ring and middle finger. “Miguel…” You whimpered, at the brink of finishing all over the hood of his Impala. “Don’t even think about it, princess,” Miguel commands, picking the pace up. A yelp escapes the back of your throat, and you soon feel your legs tremble against his hold. “Please, please, please…” You whine, feeling a bit of anticipation to gush out your release. “Don’t,” He croons. “You better not finish. I finished the paint job on this car.”

You looked up with pleading eyes at the brink of tears. “Please, please, please…” You continue the mantra, knowing you are getting on Miguel’s nerves now. “No.” He demands before the familiar, wet slapping noise fills the space around you. “Is it too much?” He pushes the question again, letting the forest area get overwhelmed with a wet slapping noise. “No.” You repeat, too stubborn for your good. “I refuse to believe that. Look at you.” 

He paused his words and kept up with rapid motions. “Milking my fingers, your legs trembling under my hold, I think your body says otherwise.”

“Don’t finish on this car’s hood.” He repeats, keeping the same motion and pulling his fingers out of your aching core.

/

Miguel’s Perspective

The look on her face is enough to laugh at. Pathetic. The look on her face made it look like she was a stranded kitten left in the rain, wanting to seek shelter in a warm space away from the cool air of the piney forest. But that wasn’t the case. She was laid out on the hood of my car like a dish served on a silver platter, waiting to be devoured and consumed. Her nervous but anticipated look is enough to send me to the edge. The urge to just take off my pants and to make her drunk on lust came to mind immediately, but no, she needs anticipation and patience other than lust. 

The sight of her glistening arousal coating my fingers soon drizzled down onto the hood of the Impala. “I told you to hold it in.” I fumed, seeing the glistening arousal pool onto the hood of the car, creating a small puddle. “God, you can’t even do this one thing correctly.”

I yanked her aching core down to my bulge, seeing her glistening arousal coat a thin layer on the denim of my pants. “C’mere…” Her hands rush down to the belt buckle of my pants, moving in a manic manner to free my aching cock free. “It’s yours. You know what to do with it.”

/

“I don’t…” You replied, playing coy with his words. “I don’t know…” Your hands grasp the band of his boxer, yanking on it playfully. “You know how.” He croons as your hand yanks down his boxer briefs, freeing his aching cock. A low “fuck” escapes him deep from him, and it is enough for you to finish everywhere on the hood of the Impala, literally. The pink mauve-colored tip ached for your attention, showing tiny beads of precum accumulating on the head, with some sliding down his shaft, specifically tracking a prominent vein. “C’mon, you know what to do.” He repeats, wanting you to initiate these events instead. 

With a forceful grab, you lead his tip to your aching core and grind it against your aching core. Your core began to kegel against the sensation of his length, feeling it rub against your clit gently. “Don’t tease me,” He insists, bucking his hips, feeling his cock free itself from your grasp. You grasp onto it again, guide his tip into your aching core, and slowly guide him in. “Shit…” You whimper, feeling the familiar pressure push up against your aching core. 

“How do you feel bigger than last time?” You whined, slowly sinking into his length. “Take deep breaths for me, m’kay?” He hums, mused by the sight before him. “I know it’s a lot, baby, I know…” You take in deep breaths while he ground the tip against your cervix, to the point where it did hurt a little, but it was pleasurable. “Take your time, it’s okay…” He croons, moving a hand down to your clit, lightly grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves. A breathy whimper is the only response he receives from you. 

The soft kisses against your temple are enough to ease you as the soft kisses make you giggle underneath him. “That’s enough,” He breathes out, soon grasping your hips with his hands. “Are we okay?” Miguel questions, allowing his thumb to trace the skin on your hips, specifically the stretchmarks painted on your soft skin. “Yeah, I’m okay…” 

The slow thrusts slowly came to a steady pace, allowing you to get comfortable with his size. Soft mewls and whimpers escaped from the back of your throat as you laid back on the hood of the car and felt your breasts bounce a bit from the thrusting. The sight of the silver barbells decorating your nipples while your breasts bounced with his tempo displayed the sight for him. “There we go, you’re getting used to me more now…”

The feeling of the virgencita charm from his necklace lightly booped your nose, occasionally touching your lips, staining the golden charm with your lipgloss. “Is this bothering you?” He chuckles, seeing the charm bump against your lips and nose. “No, not at all…” It was a bluff; the sensation of the chain and charm tickled you while you chased the sensation bubbling against your core. 

“You’re almost there?” The slight bulge in your stomach amused Miguel, seeing the bulge appear and disappear with every thrust. He lets go of your hip with one hand and pushes his hand down onto your lower stomach while keeping a steady yet hard pace. “How does that feel?” He questions, looking down to see your reaction. “Yes…” You breathed out, not giving him a proper answer as you squirmed under the pressure rise. 

“C’mon, I know you’re almost close…” He praises, bullying his tip into your sopping cunt, no longer worrying about the hood of the car or the paint job that he’s been telling you about since you two arrived at an odd location in the forest. “Finish with me, come on…” He pushes, not caring how loud the two of you are. “Please, Miguel…” You scream out, no longer pleading quietly. “Finish with me.” He croons.

The chase slowly came to an end as the sudden splurge of you squirting everywhere on the hood of the Impala, following along with Miguel cradling you close in his arms, finally giving you a couple of last thrusts into your core. “There we go…” He mumbles, placing a shaky kiss on your temple and slowly pulling out. Your whine greeted his ears as he pulled out his softening cock, and a thin white line at your entrance decorated your cunt, no longer empty. “There we go, keep it in there.” You felt as if your body took a screenshot from laying on the car's hood while the sound of clothes ruffling and a belt clinking filled your ears.

The next few moments felt blurred. You felt Miguel help you off the car's hood and straighten out your now-ruffled top and skirt. “I don’t need anyone else to see you like this,” he mutters before making his way to the vehicle's passenger side. What are you doing?” You huff out, leaning against the side of the car for support. “Give me a moment,” he continues to rummage around before he grasps a small red box in his hand.

“Do you fuck with cigarettes?” He questions. You weakly nod, slowly coming down from your high. “Do you mind which brand?” The sight of the Marlboro flashed your eyes before Miguel nudged the box gently, allowing the two cigarettes to slide out a bit, enough for you and Miguel to grab. You grabbed the cancerous stick and placed it between your tinted pink lips, smeared with pink lipgloss at the corner of your lips. Reaching into his pocket, the lighter looked tiny in his grasp as he flickered on the measly lighter. 

“Here,” You reach for the small lighter and take it from him with a gentle grasp, soon flicking at the small wheel. After a couple of flicks at it, the small flame appeared, emitting a tangy orange close to your hand, soon flickering along with the breeze. “Oh…!” You shield the small flickering flame with your free hand, allowing the flame to flicker about before settling its movements. 

As he took a deep breath, Miguel reached for the small flame and brought the cigarette closer to it. Without removing the cigarette from his lips, he leaned down towards you and used your flame to light his cigarette. As he did so, he kept his gaze locked on yours, retaining eye contact for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes. His eyes are like embers of fire waiting to be ignited again, waiting for the next moment to be triggered. 

“Here…” He grabbed the cigarette and pulled it away from your lips as he inhaled his cigarette slowly. Wary of the lit cigarette between his fingers, he gently grasps your chin and kisses you while exhaling the smoke into your mouth. He slowly pulls away from the soft kiss and lingers eyes on you.

For a moment, there was a glisten in his eye when they softened; it didn’t go unnoticed…

Tag List:

@mybvalentine @famousscattale @lazyjellyfish300 @ohara-whore @miguelzslvtz @queerponcho @improbable-outset @snails-doodles22 @koko-1025 @miguelhugger2099 @hyjionie @ugh-ok-fiyn @hwasoup

[countrycrackheads]

sugar service

pt. 1

cw: didn’t proof read this, cussing, writing practice. best of luck.

“Hot damn!”

“Smash, smash, smash, uh… yeah, him too. Smash.”

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as the other waitresses eyed your table. The three of you were waiting at the hostess post on a particularly slow day. The only customers was your table of four. Some older guys your friends just couldn’t seem to get enough of.

“Please,” you mumbled. “They’re old enough to be our dads.” Your eyes flicked up from the magazine in your hands to your coworkers. The three girls were giggling and occasionally glancing over their shoulders.

“Yeah, that's the best part!” Your coworker, Rona replied before glancing back again. “Older guys are experienced and typically have pretty big… savings.” She grinned at you, her eyes narrowing coyly.

“God-!” you scoffed, choking down your surprised guffaw. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Ignoring their giggles and teasing, you push yourself off of the wall you were leaning against to approach your table. Your eyes roamed over the four men, taking in how their shirts clung perfectly to their muscles. A few gray hairs here and there, but their physiques certainly made up for their age.

Caught up in your ogling, you slammed your hip into the corner of their table. The oldest of the men quickly grabbed the edge of the table to steady it.

“Fuck…” Your hand immediately slapped over your mouth in shock, remembering that you were in front of customers. The men chuckled, eyeing each other before turning back to look at you.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Can’t ’ave a pretty little thing like you bruising up,” one of the men, a particularly dashing man with a mohawk, chastised you. His eyes scanned yours before slowly raking down your form.

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief that they were cool and not some uptight old asses, you smiled. A genuine smile, not the customer service lip curl you were so used to doing. “I would like to apologize for that, gentlemen.” After a few seconds, you quickly added, “Please don’t tell my manager.”

With languid waves and laughs, they shook their heads and sipped their beverages in amusement. “There ain’t anything to tell.” A man with a scarred face stared, boring his eyes into you. He seemed to be deep in thought before giving his head a slight nod—something the other men quickly noted.

“Thank you.” You took a deep breath now that the anxiety of possibly losing this shitty job passed. “Is there anything I can get you, gentlemen? Drinks, dessert?”

“Your number?” He looked at you expectantly, a handsome man. The youngest of the bunch, no doubt.

Dealing with flirty old customers was a piece of cake. It’s what got the tips going. But typically they were vile old men you would never touch with a 10-foot pole. These guys were quite palatable. Very palatable.

“Well,” you laughed nervously. Perhaps Rona had a point. These men had a way of making a girl’s tummy flutter like it never has before. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you that, sir.”

“Kyle.”

“Pardon?” You blinked at him, furrowing your brows.

“Call me Kyle.” Another dashing smile sent butterflies thrashing in your belly.

“None of that sir shit. Makes us feel too damn old.” The men grumbled with bitter chuckles. “Johnny.” The man with the mohawk dismissively pat your hip, gripping the tender flesh of your forming bruise. “That old sap is John. And the brooding fella is Simon.”

“Piss off,” Simon grumbled, certainly living up to the broody title.

An amused giggle shook her shoulders, your hand subconsciously resting over Johnny’s. “It’s lovely meeting you all. So how about that dessert?” You inquired, grabbing the paper centerfold that listed off the desserts of the weeks. “The chocolate chunk brownies are pretty good and the cheesecake here is lovely paired with...”

The men rose from their table, completely ignoring your rambles. “That won’t be needed, love.” John’s hand rested on your shoulder, perhaps a bit too close to your chest.

“You give us a call when you’re ready.” Johnny stood beside you, his breath flicking against the shell of your ear. His hot, tipsy breath made you shiver and recoil.

Kyle only chuckled, gracefully slipping a business card into your pocket. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be working.” There it was again. That dashing smile that turned your knees into jelly.

“Give us a call.” Simon grumbled from the table. Glancing at him, you noticed the thick wad of cash he was leaving behind on the table.

“Sir, that’s too much.”

“Enjoy your tip.” Johnny pat your hip dismissively, sauntering away shortly after. John and Kyle followed behind him.

In complete disbelief, you nervously laughed. “Holy shit…” You shakily picked up the wad of cash left behind on the table. Simon quietly stood behind you, casting his shadow over your body. His eyes slowly raked down your back.

“See you ‘round,” he mumbled, not surprised as you jumped out of your skin in shock at his presence. Moments later, he was out of the place, nothing left but an empty establishment.

With shaky fingers, you plucked the business card out of your pocket.

Sugar Service Call (555)141-6157

[yonpote]

ok heres how i split up the dnp eras (loosely based on dan's timeline in his interview w anthony)

2009-2011: the Sillies era :3 dan refered to it as being a dumb teen just posting cuz he was bored, which is like, thats what all of youtube culture was at this time. they met and like fell in love or whatever you know the lore dont you. phil moved from his parents home to his first apartment in manchester, and dan technically moved to uni but really he moved into phil's apartment to take advantage of his washing machine and ps1 and. yknow. other stuff. they officially moved in together in 2011 yippee hooray, the phanchester apartment holds a special place in my heart

2012-2013: THE SHIFT. they started getting Serious about youtube as a career, doing more stuff w the radio, superamazingproject started in 2011 but THE SHIFT is very easy to observe when you compare the first season of sap to the last season. ALSO. they were NOT A DOUBLE ACT AND NOT GAY 🙄. it could also be called the No Homo era lmao idk this is when a lot of shitty things were happening wrt leaked information, harassment of their families, and just generally becoming more in the spotlight especially while still in the closet being a horrible experience. but also, they moved to london and got cool opportunities with radio stuff and were starting to actually make a living on this shit.

2014-2016: Peak Dan And Phil™ Era. at the height of their popularity. they realized oh shit, we ARE a double act and not only does everyone enjoy us best as a double act, WE enjoy working together. tabinof, tatinof, dapgo, still doing the radio every month up until they start touring, 7 second challenge app, gamingmas, what the hell DIDNT they do during this time period (what they didnt do was uhh take care of themselves and not overwork and not blur their work and personal lives so much to the point where they felt like the whole apartment was a film set.)

2017-2018: Gay Softlaunch Era (aka post-baking aka glass closet) the baby steps toward authenticity, moved to the double apartment to separate work and life, ii's whole theme, dan talking abt depression, phil getting the quiff, both of them being gay as hell in every way other than saying it explicitly. important things of note: TRUTH BOMBS dropped, Interactive Introverts happened, still uploading gaming vids and honestly by the end you could feel their fatigue. and then they hiatused dapg.

2019-2022: ok these four years each feel like whole eras in themselves, but also theres an overarching theme. THE GAY ERA.

2019: im gonna futher split this year in half. first half- dad left to buy milk so other dad is taking care of us. rough six months for dannies im sure. important phil thing of note- he changed his film set from his "bedroom" to a fairly basic but cute shelf backdrop. honestly prob didnt wanna keep pretending that was his bedroom considering.... second half- DAN AND PHIL GAY. dan uploads his magnum opus. phil comes out via tweet. they go to japan and its really gay and it's The Trip to japan for them like yes they first went in 2015 and again in 2023, but Japhan 2.0 Was The One. what does this mean? proposal? anniversary? idk exactly but it was gay as hell dude and theyve talked about that trip with such love in their hearts.

2020: Phandemic (sorry that was bad) but also where tf is dan again? even with the big C-word happening, it was business as usual for phil, regular vids but make em gayer, caught a pigeon nbd, and end of the year introduces the Stereo app show Phil and Phriends where he's had chats with pj, louise, his brother, seth everman?????, and finally. dan reappears. they reveal that they bought and FULLY PLANNED a house together and are ready to move!

2021: they don't move house for another like six months! basically their house was (and is??) still being worked on AND they were in lockdown AND turns out at the end of last year, they were kicked from their Life apartment and were now living in the Work apartment so you can imagine what all of this can do to their psyche and lowkey they were getting sick of each other like it wasnt just bordering on phivorce it was nearly Phurder. Phidow. but to fill the time so that DOESNT happen, my favorite fucking thing ever happens: Lockdown Lads (and all the other names). the first taste of what a dnp podcast would sound like, with the added bonus of chaotic listener interaction. oh yeah also dan wrote a mental health guide book whatever (IM KIDDING I REALLY LIKE YWGTTN I WROTE LIKE TWO REVIEWS ON IT NOW) and they finally become Homosexual Homeowners. theres quite a bit more dnp content this year, dan being on phils channel a bit more, the phodcasts, dan's gay and not proud special.... oh yeah and hometown showdown i guess AND TEXT VIDEO 2!!! my favorite and my namesake!!!!!!!

2022: Prophecy Year..... but they didnt get married. dan returns with another longass video to say: hey i hate being a youtuber and also youtube majorly fucked me over. but also fuck that im gonna do a weird talk show and ALSO GO ON TOUR WITH THIS APOCALYPSE THEME! phil actually... slows down this year. more dan uploads than phil somehow??? but also Dan Is Leaving me is posted and i go completely insane and become the deranged individual you see today. WHICH FINALLY LEADS US TOOOOOO

2023-present: The Unhinged Era. dan's tour was a huge Emotional success for him but uh not without its hiccups due to management and all that and i think he and phil finally realize. Fuck It Who Cares. dan flies back to england FROM AUSTRALIA to make sure he can be with his future ex-husband on his birthday. CAKE HEART EMOJI. YELLOW PLAID SHACKET. they go on a gamer date and post a picture of playing footsies in a cab. THE PHUDE HAPPENS. they go to japan again and while this one will never be The One it was still a well earned holiday this time with bryony! and they took a bunch of very cute film camera pictures.... THIS IS ALL JUST THE FIRST HALF OF 2023 BTW. in phil news, he talks about going to therapy and figuring out how to manage his anxiety!!!! he changes his hair again!! he hires an editor, phan is his otp, he teases about the gaming channel a couple of times but so many of us already dropped any hope of that returning- OH WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?!!!? HUH!??!? they returned, and more chaotic than ever before. the gayness upped to the max, the Weirdness on full speed, the Horniness at Very Scary Levels Oh God Stop Talking About Dogging, phil can swear uncensored now???? and this energy has continued into today...

[poppy-metal]

dad’s best friend!patrick letting you stay at his apartment when you get into a fight with art…. i’m thinking you snuck out and returned to find art sitting on the couch, waiting for you to come back. just screaming and yelling at each other, you’re throwing things at him. he calls you reckless and a child and idiotic. all things he’s called patrick before. banging on patrick’s door after you drove your car 20 miles over the speed limit from your house to his apartment building. he opens the door all angry because who the fuck is banging his door down at one in the morning. he’s less angry when he sees it’s you but he still says “why are you here????” in that gruff just woke up voice. when you stutter and look up with him with those big wet eyes and say “i just… i need you right now” he can’t find it in himself to be angry anymore, just pulling you into this apartment and wrapping you up in his arms when you cry into his shoulder. the same arms that held you like this when you scrapped your knee when you were eight, the same arms that held you on his shoulder at one of your dad‘s matches when you were six. just so familiar and comforting and warm. crying and saying that art just “doesn’t understand me.” he “doesn’t get me.” but patrick does. you may be his best friend’s daughter but he sees you and he gets you. he’ll hide you in his apartment for as long as you want, saying that you’re not there when art inevitably knocks on his door a day later.

anyway.

- ⭐️

he really is just a sap for you :((( can't turn you away even when its the one thing he should do - should call art right away, because he'd be worried sick by now but. he sees himself in you, he remembers being called immature and reckless and all sorts of stuff by people who just didn't understand that he wanted to live life to the fullest - because what was the point of feeling all that shitty stuff, of slowing down just to appease other people and stop you from doing what you wanted - yeah, he was more responsible now, but still. at your age, it should be all about impulsivity and the rush of being alive.

and then there's the worse part of him that cant turn you away because you're just..... you came to him. you had to have a bunch of other friends you could go to that would be better, but it was him you turned to. it was him you looked up to. admired. it was inappropriate and wrong, the way you felt about him, but fuck. it felt good. it felt good to be needed.

he lets you stay. puts up less of a fuss about it than you thought he would, but that's probably because of the tears. he makes you a spot on the couch and when you pout and say its ungentlemenly for him not to give up his bed he just looks at you. says, "we both know you want to be in my bed for alot more reasons than comfort.", and well. he's not wrong. you definitely would have touched yourself if you had slept there. humped one of his pillows.

still, you manage to haggle one of his shirts from him - claiming your clothes were to uncomfortable to sleep in - and he'd tossed you one of his old tennis academy shirts. the fabric stretched out and worn. it dwarfs you when you slip it on, reaching your knees. its not as good being in his bed would have been, but you still drag the fabric over your nose in the middle of the night and inhale his scent while you touch through your wet slit - stroking and petting. you suck the fabric into your mouth too, imagining he just wore it and you could suck his sweat from it - pull it into your mouth. you imagine him in his bed just a couple doors down from you - sleeping on his stomach in just his boxers - fuck, maybe naked? - the strong expanse of his back, the thickness of his thighs. you imagine how he'd react to catching you masturbating in his shirt - if he'd get angry and call you a bad little girl. would he flip you over his knee, beat some sense into you? would cant stop from pulling the shirt completely over your head as you drench your fingers, pumping them in and out of your wet pussy as you think about being completely covered by patrick - pressed down and pinned with nothing to do but take in his musk and let him inside your tight body -

you cum sticky and wet all over your fingers. the bottom of his shirt damp with your juices. the apartment is quiet. you wonder how long you can take being around patrick zweig and not break - you feel like if he doesn't fuck you soon, it'll kill you.

[gildedphoenix]

During the great depression, somebody made a wish. Fueled by desperation, powered by the pure dumb luck of being in the right place at the right time to be heard by an ancient Djinn (it was totally Desire) with a sense of humor. 

After the wish, everyone had a red string hanging off their left pinky. It dangled down a few inches and then just faded into non-existence. Nobody knew what it was for a few years but then stories started coming out. People finding their perfect match after feeling a tug at their string and following it. The string would twist and twine and lengthen as you got closer to your fated mate, your strings eventually connecting together. 

Most people’s strings just hung limp. Maybe listing in one direction or another. But 8 Billion people in the world and only one is your soul mate? Most people didn’t meet theirs. It was true that your soulmate was always within 10 years of age as you. But 10 years older to 10 years younger still gave you a 20 year range to work with. Everyone’s string appeared by the time they were 10. Some babies were born with their string already spun, a small red thread fading off into a wisp after a scant inch. 

Nowadays, it was common to go on a “string chase” vacation after graduating high school. Some people were close enough to their soulmates that they could just follow the leadings of their string, which would become longer and more opaque the closer you got to your mate. If your string gave you no leads, there were all kinds of "methods" to help pick which direction you should go.

Tucker and Sam were determined to go on string chase journeys post graduation. Tucker because he loved the excitement of an adventure, Sam to find someone who would truly understand her.

Danny was not so hopeful. At one point they'd all agreed to go together, but Sam felt like she was being led to the west coast while Tucker was just going to start in Metropolis, the nearest big city and go from there, hopping the next train out of town after a few days if he still had a slack string.

After a lengthy discussion of pros and cons, they decided that Tucker was more likely to get himself into trouble than Sam, so Danny found himself packing light and on a Greyhound to Metropolis. It was a shitty trip. Objectively the worst way to travel. Walking, or even hitch hiking would have been more pleasant. The bus was late. They had no way of making their connection in Chicago, and the vent fan in the bathroom was broken, making the bus reek of sewage.

Danny has shit luck and just doesn't believe he'll ever find his soulmate. The universe just doesn't like him that much.

Jason has, somehow, always had a leading direction on his string. When he was younger, there was nothing he could do about it. And now he had baggage and didn't want to pursue romance or relationship. (Even though he's a total sap for soulmate meet stories)

While in Gotham, both their strings keep tugging and lengthening and then falling slack again.

----

I know this isn't much but I promised myself I would post whatever I had and it's almost 1 am. So there. There's that fucking thing. I'll try to flesh it out more tomorrow, Enjoy red ♥️🧵♥️

[constantly0lost]

Okay I haven't written in literal months, but i was inspired by the little blurb about otter harvey at the bottom of @sashiavi 's goat Harvey post, so enjoy a ramble. Alot of my sleep tired brain escaped into this, sorry for how sloppy this is, i just wanted to vocalize my thoughts or my head would have exploded. I would carry 19 of Harvey's children if asked, peace.

CW: bit of a breeding kink, i reimagined/softened the mannerisms of otters during sex cause MAN, male otters SUCK, other otter things (harveys hydrophobic hair), lactation kink, me being a simp for this man, UHHh, shitty writing :)

Otter Harvey who gives you special things that made him think of you. From rocks to acorns to mushrooms to flowers to leave and so on, and being so blushy when he gives them to you, because its just acorns but it means so much to him. And he swoons when he finds out you kept them all.

Otter Harvey who holds your hand while y'all sleep, even though you're as close as two people can physically be without fusing together. He knows logically that you can't go anywhere, and even if you did, you'd be right back in his arms, but it feels so nice to have his hand on yours.

Otter harvey who eats sea urchins in secret, not because of someone finding out he eats them, but because he has to yank one out of Vincents mouth after he saw Harvey eating them, and he didn't want to cause anyone any extra undue stress.

Otter Harvey who has to take showers with slightly more intense temperatures so that he can actually wash his hair, otherwise it rolls right off of his hair. The only time he won't is when you take a shower with him, because he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable because of him, and even then, after you get out he'll change the temperature so he can actually get clean.

Otter Harvey who, if you end up having kids, is the best fucking dad. He teaches them literally anything and everything, and sits at the table responding to their toddler gibberish with full blown sentences. He takes them to school, plays anything they want, and is a total pushover sap for them, no matter what happens. (He is also 110% a girl dad)

Otter Harvey who bites higher up on you than he probably should, but he can't help it when you make him feel such mind numbing pleasure. So now you have hickeys on your cheeks, lovebites around your nose and mouth, along with all the marks he leaves along your body.

Otter Harvey who has such a rampant breeding kink that on "bad" days, he'd fuck you over and over until he's so drained he's lightheaded and overwhelmed, and he feels guilty for fucking you like that, even though he's still inside of your puffy cunt.

Otter Harvey who can't help but moan and whimper as he fucks into you, digging his nails into your hips as your pussy seems to suck him deeper, your walls clenching around him in a downright mean way as he bites and sucks anywhere he can get his mouth to.

Otter Harvey who often and loudly verbalizes how he wants to stuff you full right as he's about to cum, drilling the head of his cock harder into your spongy walls.

Otter Harvey who, when he gets jealous, will hold you down by your neck, or might even just hold you down by your hair, as he drills into you, harder than he normally would dare. His mouth turns downright filthy, spewing the nastiest words you'll ever hear in your life, as he hefts your leg over his shoulder.

Otter Harvey who can, will, and has spent hours buried with his face between your legs, looking up at you with those pretty eyes in search of your approval. He wants you to pull on his hair to guide him, wants you to pull until his scalp burns.

Otter Harvey who whines so damn pretty when you ride him, his cock kicking on your hand as he eyes roll back, his nails digging into your thighs. He mumbles whispered gibberish, which could almost be pleas, but are too garbled to fully make out.

Otter Harvey who will suck on your tits until you produce a few beads of milk, which he gratefully laps up and swallows like it's heaven on earth. Of course afterwards he gets anxious, wanting to make sure it's not galactorrhea, and wanting to make sure you're healthy.

Otter Harvey who would bend over backwards to make sure your happy, who would wait on your hand and foot so that you feel properly appreciated. He loves you, and knowing you love him back is all he needs.

FUCKING OTTER HARVEY IM GONNA RIDE HIM IN MY DREAMS TONIGHT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Won't Let You Go, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barners x afab!reader smut

Summary: A flashback to Bucky and Belle's first date... and to fulfil some of Bucky's longstanding thoughts.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, porn with plot, kinda long, mentions of previous shitty boyfriend that i've referenced before, Bucky is bad at dates but good at sex, daddy kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, p in v sex, i think that's everything

Notes: bringing anon (and my) dreams into reality. It did end up a little sweeter than expected but its because im a SAP. More Biker!Bucky content here

You stared at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom. You had put on makeup in a way you never did for other dates. You were usually very internally strict about what you did to make a date go well. Something about Bucky though... After he had ensured his extra helmet was strapped comfortably across your chin and your feet were in the right place, so you didn't burn your calves, it had felt uncomfortably natural to wrap your arms around his thick chest. You were sure he could feel your heart beating overtime in your chest when you leaned forward. You just hoped the rumble of the bike made it impossible to feel it.

Bucky was an experienced biker. He knew that. His friends knew that. Every piece of his instinct that came from riding across the country, in war zones, and across the city all came in handy as soon as he felt your hands tighten around him. You chest against his back made his heart beat so loud he thought there was no way you wouldn't hear it over the rumble of the bike.

"I've never been on a motorcycle before," you said quietly when you stopped in the driveway of the garage. The hum of the bike stopped made everything sound quiet in your ears. You understood Steve's loud projection which had startled you earlier.

"Well, I'm glad you had a good trip. Steve should be here soon," Bucky said gruffly, taking the helmet gently from your hands and stowing it away. He led you into the office of the shop. There were a few people sitting with bikes and chatting or working on cars inside the garage, who watched passively, but you followed into a closed office and Bucky left the door open behind you before sitting down on the other side. You felt awkward, but sat in the seat across from him. It felt odd after being so close to him for ten sweltering minutes. You could feel it between your legs.

"Steve'll be here soon." Bucky looked down at some papers and pulled open a binder.

"You said that already." His blue eyes flickered to you and you tried to take a full breath, but it ended up being loud and strange. You tried to stifle the expression you wanted to make out of your awkwardness.

And now you were standing in the bathroom of this steakhouse, feeling exactly the same way. Bucky had been nothing but sweet, interested in what you did and ordering what you wanted. It felt good, but there was a barrier between you that you hadn't felt when you sat behind him on that bike, chest to his back.

"Get yourself together," you muttered to yourself, carefully wiping away the dark lipstick you had opted for. It had felt appropriate when you thought about the biker the man was, and the vibe of the bar he owned next door. You only had it because of a Halloween costume. You felt a little bit more like yourself when you stepped out of the bathroom and took your seat at the table. Bucky was taller than your ex and you knocked your knee against his thigh as you crossed your legs.

His head tilted, scanning your face before his blue eyes focused in on your newly glossed lips. He chose not to comment.

"Dessert menu?" He was sweet for asking, but it had felt like the night flew away despite how physically uncomfortable you had felt the whole time. It felt natural.

"Of course! I love chocolate." Bucky smiled, reaching for his scotch and taking a long sip. You tried not to stare at his lips.

Bucky stared at the letters, but they felt like they were swimming on the page. He flipped the binder to a random page. He could still feel where your thighs had sneezed around his hips when he turned a corner too quick.

"I have to take a look at the car before I can give you a quote. The restaurant-" he looked at his watch, "-the bar next door is open and we'll come in and let you know when we have a diagnosis on the car." You blinked at him before nodding and slowly rising from your seat.

"Okay, uh, could you-" Bucky stood rapidly and nodded, showing you out the side door and into the Howling Commando Bar and Grill. Sam gave him a little smirk when he left you at the bar, and Bucky bared his teeth before heading back to the garage to wait for your car, and maybe take a few deep breaths and resolve the issue in his pants.

"And a dessert menu?" You blinked, trying not to think again about Bucky's warm hand at the small of your back when the waiter had led you to the table.

"Yeah, and a coffee for me," Bucky said.

"Me too," you chimed in. Your eyes met again as the waiter walked away. You second guessed the want in his eyes. Maybe it was just- His knee brushed against the middle of your thigh, then the other from the other side. He leaned forward, dangling his empty scotch glass from his fingers. His lips were wet again. You thought it should be illegal.

"Do you..." he took a quick breath, "I think you should come home with me." If it had come from anyone else, you thought you probably would have rolled your eyes and left him with the check, but you swallowed.

"I know I should." You stared at each other, Bucky's other hand resting on the side of your knee waiting for the waiter to arrive. When he came back you stuck out your card, which caught Bucky by surprise.

"We actually decided to skip dessert if you could take this for the check." The waiter looked shocked, but she walked away quickly.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I figured it would be quickest."

The two of you walked out into the humid air, and Bucky slid his extra helmet on your head, carefully strapping it below your chin. His tongue stuck out between his lips just slightly as he made sure it was tight enough. He put on his own helmet and then stepped over to sit astride the bike. He had now driven you on the bike four times, and it had gotten easier to use his shoulder to lever yourself onto the back, your feet naturally sliding onto the little foot rests. Your knees knocked his hips and he reached back to squeeze one of them.

"You're getting to a natural," he laughed, the bike starting over thought and drowning it from your ears. It wasn't a long drive, and you saw that he lived within spitting distance of the garage and bar. He let you get off the bike first, and then got off himself, helping you pull off the helmet again. He smiled sweetly at you as he pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. You were sure it looked a mess, but you couldn't help but stare a little moon-eyed up at him.

"I owe you back for that dinner," Bucky muttered as he unlocked the door to his apartment. You bit your lip, considering if you should let the statement out of your mouth before you decided it was the correct choice and said, "I was hoping maybe coming back here would do exactly that." Bucky's blue eyes were dark with... something when the door swung open and he pushed you in before him.

"I think I could make it worth it, depending on how badly how you want it, pretty belle." His voice was raspy, focused. You couldn't help but feel the heat between your legs growing. The nickname was warm and wrapped in affection that should have sounded out of place from this man who was a stranger only a few days ago.

"I want it very badly." The door shut behind you two, plunging you both into darkness, the only light coming from the streetlights through the window. You thought maybe you ought to be scared, but Bucky's arms were suddenly around you, his hot mouth on your neck, mapping its way up to lips against yours. The kiss made you breathless, the first in years, and you were at his whim.

"What do you want, pretty belle?" His lips continued on what felt like a natural path back down your neck and following the hem of your shirt.

"I want you, Bucky," you whined, your head lolling back as your fingers found purchase in his hair. He made a sound of displeasure in his throat, despite his hands pushing restlessly against your shirt, fingers skimming your now bare waist.

"I want you, daddy," you groaned again, knowing your fingers had gone still against his scalp. There was a stillness between the both of you for a moment, before Bucky moved, his hands tight against your thighs, pulling. You jumped and suddenly your only tether to the ground was him.

"Fuck belle, I want you too." It was dark, and you had no idea how long you were kissing down Bucky's lips to his neck before you were laid down on his bed. His jawline was sharp and the stubble tickled your lips and the feel of his pulse against your tongue as your traced the line of his neck was intoxicating. You could feel how wet you were as you shifted your hips against his. His groaned before pulling away reluctantly.

"Sorry, one second close your eyes." You followed his instructions and you could feel the lights turn on. He was muttering to himself and you opened your eyes to see him shooing a gray cat off the bed.

"For fucks sake Alpine, do you really want to ruin my chances," he was whispering as he closed the door behind the cat. He looked absolutely delicious now that you could see him. His blue eyes were entirely overtaken by lust, his cheeks pink under his stubble, and his lips wet. There was hickey forming at the hem of his shirt and you were certain you could add a few more.

"Sorry. Alpine's bedtime was like two hours ago." You smiled up at him, suddenly feeling a sweet flutter in your chest.

"Where were we?" Bucky over you in the light was entirely different and even more enticing than it was in the dark. He was in all black, his leather jacket tossed to the floor, his tshirt showing off tattooed arms that you knew you would be drooling over shortly.

"You were about to entirely fuck me up," you responded, bottom lip between your teeth. Bucky took a breath that read as controlling himself. Not at all what you wanted.

"I mean that," you repeated. His eyes met yours.

"You gotta be sure about that, honey." He was being honest, his arms bracketing your shoulders, halfway to a kiss.

"I mean it," you said again, your eyes refocusing on his lips, waiting for a reply. Instead you got a strong, warm body against yours, lips near attacking yours before they traced down your jaw and throat to your shirt. His hands were tugging at your hair.

"Fuck, belle, I want to see it all." You were happy to oblige as he pushed up your shirt leaving hungry kisses against your stomach and ribs, you undid your jeans and kicked them away. Bucky forced your arms up and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in only the matching set you had put on in the hopes that the night would go anywhere. He stared at you, licking his lips as eyes raked over your near naked body on his bed.

"God, I think you're an angel sent to me," he mused, retuning his lips to yours. Your hands wandered, feeling out of place but very aroused but the fact that he was fully dressed but you were entirely naked. His shirt came off, and you didn't have nearly enough time to stare at the tattoos that covered him. Again you thought about mapping them with your tongue.

Bucky's hand explored as much as his tongue before you managed to wrestle his black jeans came off to reveal more of his tattoos.

"Please, Bucky, I want more," you whined, the slick between your legs making you shift your hips against him. You could tell he was huge in the confines of his jeans.

"How'd ya want it, honey? I gotta pay you back." You wanted to balk at the way he insinuated this was a favor, but you were near gushing between the legs.

"I want all of you," you whined, "Daddy, please. Anything." Two of his fingers ran against your panties, and he groaned at the wetness on contact.

"You are soaking, belle. I bet you taste as good as you sound." Bucky was quick to kiss down your chest, his hands' singular focus on getting your panties off. You groaned at the way he stared at you from where he knelt against the floor.

"Good thing we skipped dessert," he chuckled to himself, his hand wrapping around your ankle to pull one leg over his shoulder before his mouth pressed against your clit. You couldn't suppress the loud whine that you let out, already close as he teased your clit before his hot tongue made practiced motions down to your slit, his nose pressing to your clit. Your hips bucked and his big hands slid up your legs to press you back onto the bed.

"This is my treat, honey, I'm going to make you feel good." The baritone of his voice was a drug and you could feel your mind getting hazy as the feeling of your orgasm built in your stomach. Bucky's tongue moved back to your clit, a sinfully slow pace keeping you satisfied, but not doing enough. Once he was satisfied that you weren't going to try to wiggle away from him again, one of his hands joined his mouth between your legs, a finger pressing into you and providing delicious pressure right where you needed it.

"Oh you like that, huh belle?" Your voice was breathy through your panting, but you managed a, "please, more daddy." Bucky's chuckle against your clit in combination with another finger joining the first sent you over the edge and you came hard. Bucky's fingers slowed, pulling you through your orgasm while he pressed soft kisses to your thighs.

"Was that good, pretty girl?" You nodded and his fingers paused, blue eyes intent on yours.

"Words, honey." You blinked, the demand sending another jolt through you. Bucky obviously felt it based on how he smirked, his sinful wet lips now wet with you. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

"So good."

"I bet you could give me another one." It wasn't a demand, but a challenge, and even in this state you were certainly not one to back down from competition.

"Please, daddy." Bucky was back between your legs, another finger pressing into you and his tongue soothed the sting by running smooth and slow figure 8s on your clit. It was clear immediately that Bucky had paid attention to what you liked because after a few moments, his fingers crooked in exactly the right way and you moaned, and thought you might be embarrassed if it didn't feel so good. He leaned back, his other hand taking over the motion on your clit.

"Quiet, belle, we wouldn't want the neighbors to hear how good you sound. They might try to come take ya." Bucky added a fourth finger, an indication of what was to come and you came almost immediately, tight around him as your head threw back, hips moving to meet his finger's thrusts.

"Honey, you are gonna feel like fucking heaven," Bucky muttered as he slowly pulled his fingers away from you, "I'll be back in two seconds." You could still feel the orgasm in your toes when he came back, a towel and condom in hand.

"We can stop there if you want." You leaned up, leaning back against your elbows as he walked towards you. His expression was sincere, but you could see his cock straining against his jeans.

"Absolutely not." The wicked look returned to his eyes as he tossed the items beside you and then bowled you back over onto the bed, his lips finding yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you, quick fingers ridding you of your bra. Your hands found purchase over his strong shoulders and you managed to roll him onto his back.

"Taking control, honey?" He sounded condescending and it was hot. You straddled his thick thighs, focusing your actions on getting the button and zipper off his skinny jeans. Your eyes were wandering across the tattooed expanse of his chest. There was every kind of tattoo, and you were certain you had to ask about every single one when you got the chance.

"Need help?" He asked right before you managed to get the zipper down.

"Move." He laughed, lifting his hips, with you on him, and slid the jeans past his ass, pulling your hips forward so your swollen pussy ran right over the cold zipper and left you straddling the bulge in his black boxers. You both groaned at the contact and you rolled your hips, eliciting a delightfully hot sound from his lips as his eyes closed. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off and his hands were back on your hips, guiding their grinding till both of you were moaning and his boxers were soaked. Your head was thrown back, hands on his hot chest as his fingers left marks against your hips.

"Ya ready, belle?" You nodded fervently, and let him gently lay you down on the bed, leaving an intimate kiss on your lips before reaching to where he had tossed the condom. You stared hungrily as he pulled the boxers down and your eyes widened at how big he was. His thighs and all the way down his v-line had tattoos, which made the contrast of his flushed cock more distinct.

"Please, fuck me daddy." You thought you might be drooling.

"Oh, honey, I will." He rolled the condom down his own cock, pumping once before pushing your knees up so they were rested on his hips. You looked down and couldn't look away as he slowly pressed into you, the burn of his fingers nothing compared to this.

"Fuck, god... belle you feel so good, you're so tight." You wanted to push down against him, force him in faster, but he was gentle and slow and by the time he bottomed out his cock was pressed against just the right spot to make you want to moan.

"You were made for me, fuck." Bucky's right hand gripped your thigh and the other arm leaned on your left so he could press a feverish kiss to your lips.

"Please move, please." You could feel yourself squeezing around him. You were certain neither of you would last long based on the euphoric expression on his face. He took a focused breath and then his eyes opened, blue almost entirely overtaken by his pupils. You licked your lips, leaning up to kiss him. When you shifted it pushed him further and it was as if a dam broke. Bucky pulled away from you till he was up on both knees, the delicious drag of him inside you nothing compared to his first thrust. It was hard, unrestrained, and the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

"Belle, ain't no way this can be a one time thing," he muttered before pushing back into you. He set a brutal pace but he hit right where you needed him every time and you saw stars the first time you came, gushing around him and adding to the chorus of sounds that two of you were making. Bucky pressed through your first orgasm and then one hand slid up and found your clit.

"I want you to come with me, can you do that for me honey? I'm- fuck I'm so close." You nodded, barely able to keep your eyes open.

"Words, belle, fuck."

"Yes, daddy, yes please."

"Good girl." You both came together, Bucky's thrusts getting sloppy till he was leaned back over you, his forehead rested to your shoulder as he pressed one last time into you before pulling out. He grabbed the towel and quickly cleaned you up before himself and tossing it somewhere in the direction of the bathroom he had gone into before.

It was a few minutes before either of you spoke, wrapped in blankets, your head resting on his arm, facing one another.

"So much for being quiet." Bucky laughed, and closed the small gap to kiss you.

"I meant it when I said this can't be a one time thing." His dominating demeanor had dropped to that same sweet look from dinner. You nodded, feeling the sleep sliding across your eyes as you cuddled closer to him.

"I agree." You closed your eyes, getting as close to Bucky as you could. He smelled like sex and sweat and everything you had ever wanted.

"Good, because I don't think I could let ya go now, Belle." You giggled, his arms wrapping around you.

"Wouldn't let you."

[vevobly]

Being Natalie Scatorccio Girlfriend Headcanons (Pre-Crash) [Part 1]

A/N: This is technically my first headcanons post. But I ended up posting Jackie's first then Misty's, so yeah! Heads up for sensitive topics such as addiction, smoking, and implied/referenced terrible home.

Since Nat comes from a rough home life and doesn't exactly have the best reputation at school, your relationship is probably being kept on the down low. It's not because Nat might be ashamed of you or anything like that; she just doesn't want to drag you down with her. She already gets a lot of unwanted attention and judgment from others. She doesn't want more—especially if it affects you too.

She isn't big on public displays of affection. But you CAN catch her giving you these small, meaningful gestures! A light touch on the arm, a passing glance, or, if you smoke, she'll quietly give you a cigarette when no one's looking.

Nat doesn't open up easily. But with you? As cheesy as it might be, it's different. You're one of the very few people she can be vulnerable with when life decides to shit on her. She doesn't tell you everything, but it's fine. You understand, and you aren't going to push her to do so (unless something warrants it).

She'll call you up late at night just to talk about whatever. Sometimes she crashes at your place to avoid the bullshit she deals with at home, sleeping more soundly in your bed than anywhere else. When you bring that up, she'll either respond with something witty or sappy. And you? You'll like whatever she chooses to tell you instead of the other.

Dating Nat means late night drives in her beat up car with no clear destination! She loves going where the road takes you two, and you're always down to ride shotgun with her.

With this in mind, you two occasionally sneak off to places that are abandoned. Why? For privacy and peace, of course! Oh, and because those locations usually have great views. You can bet your ass that Nat has taken you to loads of romantic places (though she would argue that they're plain) already, talking about how shitty Wiskayok is and how you guys could escape it one day together. Neither of you are sure of anything, but it is nice to dream about, right?

Nat is VERY loyal to you. She might not say it, but she shows it by defending you in her own subtle (some of the yellowjackets would disagree with that—I think you already know who) way when people at school talk behind your back.

Of course, being Nat's girlfriend grants you the special privilege of seeing a side of her that others don't. Which is her being surprisingly sweet when it's just the two of you. She’ll let you pick the music when she's driving (even if she grumbles about your taste) and surprise you with small gifts like mixtapes or a pack of your favorite candy.

Nat's not the most affectionate, but when she is, she turns into this huge sap. Point that one out and she'll deny it vehemently. Either rolling her eyes or crossing her arms to her chest before insisting you're the one being a massive sap. Touché, you'll tell her, and then she'll start laughing; saying you're her sap.

Being together with Nat means you've got to deal with rumors about her at school from time to time. You hate it but what can you do? People will talk whatever about her whenever. While it certainly made you pissed that people do that to her, you've learned to just ignore what they say about her. You know her. You know Nat. And she is way different from how people see her. While she appreciates you defending her, she doesn't need you to. She's not a charit

When things get bad, she'll seek you out. Sometimes she'll show up at your door in the middle of the night, simply saying "I needed to see you." and you'll let her stay. Your place is always welcome for her.

Believe it or not, you're the first person Natalie tells about her frustations (usually the team or her dad). Annnnd, even though she might try to brush off her feelings; you know how to read her and help her without pushing too hard. Still, it makes her feel like a damn--

You know about her addiction. And while you always make sure she's okay, that just isn't enough. So you give her space, let her know that you will be there for her no matter what (but will you though? your relationship is just a faulty boat that's been leaking from the very start. No matter how many times you try to bail the water out, it will sink. It was just destined to). You'll always love her. You'll always love Natalie.

When she's spiraling, you'll be the one to bring her back. Nothing big has to be done, neither of you guys could care about those. Just a quiet word, a reassuring look, or being there is enough. She loves you, she really does. But how the fuck do you love her? She's a mess, and being with her brings you absolutely nothing. why. Why. WHy. WHY. WHY DO YOU LOVE HER OF AL--

If you smoke: Nat loves sharing cigarettes with you. It's almost like a ritual. You or Natalie light one up, pass it back and forth with each other while talking. You'll both sneak out sometimes during school breaks, find a secluded spot to talk and smoke freely there from everyone else.

If you don't smoke: it'll still happen. The difference is that Nat will just be the only one smoking while you'll just watch her take a drag maybe and talk with her. It's a bummer you don't smoke but Nat will take whatever company you can give her whenever.

[kometqh]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧

Fives x F!Reader x Echo Pt. 1 After the events of the Citadel, Fives is forced to embark on a journey - inform people of Echo's passing. Fives knew his brother like the inside of his pocket, but who knew Echo had been hiding a gem all this time? Certainly not Fives. Word Count: 2886 Warnings: Echo's death, swearing, sad Fives, alcohol consumption A/N: I'm missing fives because he didn't get enough screen time and it's called 'The Clone Wars' for a reason :c

"I'm sorry," His voice carried a certain lightness to it, spinning in your ear canal like a pearly white feather on a windy, gloomy day. Though his words, oh his words, they pierced through your heart like a rusty dagger, the bitter metal permeating through the organ like a chartreuse, acidic poison. "There was nothing we could do to save him."

You were always afraid that one day, after a long, dreadful mission, he just wouldn't be back.

No matter how many times your best friend reassured you, that fear just lingered somewhere deep within your subconscious, sharpening its' shiny black talons, awaiting the day it could re-emerge into your heart.

Fives swallowed harshly, counting down the number of awfully loud heartbeats echoing in his head. He could feel a tension headache rising as he eyed you wearily, ready to offer comfort if you were to start crying, or having a go at him.

Your lack of response worried him. It was like you knew as soon as the door opened, his fist stuck in mid-air as the gears turned in his head. By the time he had gone over the pleasantries and the uncomfortable silence, your eyes had seemingly lost their spark, your face paled in the early sunshine of the Coruscantian morning, and your voice lost that high-pitched note to it when you spoke.

And now, here he was, his neck feeling awfully warm, his gut twisting as he thought of every whichever way to escape this hellhole. He hadn't even had the time to mourn his brothers death, yet alone truly understand it and now he had to go making rounds to people, informing them of it?

The Republic was cruel, and shitty, and full of shit and-

"H-How did he..?" His gaze was laser focused on his hands, the tension in his shoulders worsening as he looked up from his lap. You had unshed tears trudging the edges of your waterline, your eyelashes already wet from having to blink away thick, hopeless tears.

The green of the wallpaper that peered round the corner seemed much more inviting to look at than your eyes were, Fives thought. The colour was that of pine trees, lighter swirls of white decorating the expanse of the wall behind you. It used to be Echo's favourite colour. His brother always said how it brought joy for him to see that dreaded colour, how it always made him feel hopeful in an otherwise unsure battle. Fives, even though having made fun of Echo for being such a sap, had also secretly shared the same opinion.

But now all he felt when he saw the colour was disgust, nausea, and worst of all, guilt.

"Fives..?" Your voice gently lulled him out of his thoughts, like a lighthouse at sea, calling out to his ship, and his eyes widened as he realised you had reached your hand over to his, your thumb rubbing at his armoured forearm. Kriff, he didn't even take his bloody armour off.

His lips opened and closed, his eyelashes fluttering as Fives tried to map his way around, trying to find the right words to say.

Eventually, he settled on a fairly common pair.

"I-I'm sorry," He winced at the shakiness of his voice, scrunching his eyes shut. How the hell was he supposed to say it? For some odd reason, you were the one comforting him, rather than the other way around. What kind of soldier was he? What kind of man was he?

"He.. He died heroically," His voice was soft, trembling. Fives couldn't bring himself to speak any louder, afraid that the deeply buried emotions in his chest would come crashing down, like waves against a rocky shore, "He was the bravest man on that battlefield, ready and willing to do anything to complete the mission. He was so.. He was so inspiring. What happened next.. I- I couldn't get to him.. in time." He took in a shallow, shaky breath, forcing his eyes shut as tears began to prickle at his eyes.

"I couldn't save him."

"Fives it's-"

"The droid blasted the ship just as he reached the entrance and I wanted to help him, to get him out of there, but someone screamed my name and all I remember is seeing his body fly, and his helmet drop at my feet. I wish it were me instead of-"

"He would never forgive himself for that and you know it." Your voice tore through his tangent, sharp, snappy and cold as ice. It was as if you had thrown cold water in his face. You knew Echo, you knew he would never let his brother sacrifice himself for him, "He was a good soldier and he died as one." You whispered, peering down at the man seated in your small, pale yellow kitchen.

The wrinkles on his forehead and the tired bags under his eyes told you everything. He desperately needed a safe place, and some well deserved rest.

Has he even had the time to process Echo's death? You truly doubted it just by seeing his reluctance, the difficulty he felt of talking about this. As though it was the first time.

You couldn't let Fives go back to the GAR. Not in this condition, not yet. You were afraid he would simply shut down if he were surrounded by countless faces and voices, similar and the same as Echo's. He would have constant nightmares, constant night terrors, constant guilt.

But what about you? What about your time alone, your time to process the news of your best friends death?

That wasn't your priority right now, you could wallow in the bubbling feelings of grief and despair after you've taken care of his brother, his twin.

Taking in a deep breath, you kneeled beside Fives, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh.

"Stay here for the night. You can be gone by morning and we never have to talk of this again." You offered, squeezing his thigh to get his attention. You could tell by the way his eyes widened that he wasn't expecting such an offer, and by the quick downturn of his lips, that he was about to reject it.

"It's not for my comfort, it's for your own," You interjected, determination seeping from each word you said, "I- I don't think you'll be able to sleep there-" You paused, getting up from the floor with a huff, "Here's the plan; I'll draw you a bath, make you some food and then you can go sleep in my room, how's that?" You asked, leaning against the countertop behind you.

A few moments of silence passed, Fives completely stunned and speechless. Where was Echo hiding this.. t-this gem? He had never met such a compassionate woman, person, ever.

All he was familiar with were the one night stands with numerous different women he'd met at 79s. Did Echo meet you there too? Were you really just friends?

Shaking his head, Fives stood up from his seat, looking, no, glaring at that stupidly green wallpaper behind you. At that grisly irritating reminder of hope. Of Echo. "I-I couldn't take such a-advantage of your kindness, ma'am. I appreciate it, but I'll be fine." He stated.

A frown replaced the hopefulness on your face as you noticed the awful change in his demeanour. You weren't talking to Fives, the man, anymore. No, you were talking to Fives the ARC Trooper, CT-5555. You could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed, how his gaze hardened, how his chest puffed up and his shoulders stood to attention.

He's just like Echo.

Neither men preferred to face the difficulty of opening up to others, you noted. But whilst Echo would stutter and refuse, Fives completely shut down, solidified into a steel-strong soldier. But neither of them seemed to like accepting help, whether it be from a friend or a stranger.

Funny.

They truly were like twins, born of the same strand of DNA, or whatever the Kaminoans did, you thought.

With a heavy, disapproving sigh, you gave a slight nod of your head.

It seemed to surprise Fives, as you noticed that momentarily, miniscule raise of his thick brows. He definitely wanted you to be more pushy, but you had learned from Echo that that often led to nowhere.

"Do you have anywhere else to go? Anyone else to inform?" Your voice was soft when it reached his ears, and a defeated expression rested on your face. Since you wouldn't need to take care of Fives, your mind felt at ease enough to let in the new, yet still familiar feelings.

It took him a moment to respond, his throat having gone completely dry.

"Just a couple of friends, really. You were number one on that list so.. I- I guess I'll leave you to it." He half muttered, looking up at you. The kitchens' yellowy dandelion wallpaper behind your frame did very little to brighten up your features. Instead, it seemed to dull them, deep shadows were casted over your features as you frowned.

"Are you sure? You can stay longer if you'd like-"

"No! No, it's okay. Really. I'm on a tight schedule anyway, y'know, ARC Trooper things and all that." Fives insisted as he finally rose from his seat, rubbing his nape with one hand awkwardly.

This was his chance to get out of there, to escape the stuffy, small kitchen. It was like a rainy cloud had settled itself over your shoulders, and he wanted to be gone by the time it began to pour.

"Alright. I won't keep you here any longer. I-I'm sure you've wasted enough time here already." You muttered out as you followed suit, rising from your seat, albeit slower than Fives. 

Did you want to be alone? You weren't too sure. Some of your focus was still locked onto the man before you, worry gnawing away at your conscious. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." You followed up, rounding the rectangular, wooden table seated in the middle of your small kitchen.

Echo used to always nag at you, complaining it was too short for tall people like him. Interestingly enough, Fives had no intention of mentioning the height of the table.

Although Echo had told you many stories about Fives and the Domino Squad, it felt like the two had switched personalities. Your Echo seemed to behave more like Fives when around you, and Fives behaved more like Echo from the stories. 

Your arms were crossed over your chest as you led Fives to the door, and you caught a peek of his expression as you quickly peered over your shoulder. 

He seemed to tower over you as you bid your goodbyes, thanking him for coming all this way, and wishing for him to stay safe and get well. Your chest felt heavier as you unlocked the door, moving aside, observing him as he stepped out.

The dull greyness of the corridor outside did nothing but crumble any resolve that may have lingered within his chest. 

A lone, glaringly white light bulb flickered from time to time, doing very little to actually brighten up the space. It also seemed to wash out Fives' features, make his sun-kissed skin look paler, his eyes more somber, his frown look deadlier.

If anyone were to come by him, they'd tremble on the spot.

The corners of his lips seemed to twitch, just slightly, as he thought over what to say. What do you say to someone you're not sure you'll see again?

Your vocie beat him to is as you bid a short, yet comforting goodbye.

That was it then.

He waved you goodbye as he descended down the stairs, his gaze locking with yours one last time before he disappeared behind the concrete railing.

The distant sound of a hum accompanied your thoughts, the electrical cables working hard to provide light to that narrow corridor, becoming background noise to your running thoughts.

Would he be okay?

Maybe you should have given him your comm number, in case he'd wanna reach out. It was too late though, as his figure had already disappeared down the long staircase, the warmth of his gloved hands still lingering on yours.

The loud boom of the music bounced of the walls of 79s, and Fives' head. It was like a headache that just kept on going, and Fives was refusing to take pain meds, nullifiers. He didn't want the pain to stop. It was the only thing that kept him awake, aware, attentive to the fact that this was reality.

Many of his brothers had died; Domino Squad to be specific. Their deaths were all too sudden, just like Echo's. But he got past them, keeping his brothers memory alive on each and every mission he was sent to. But through all that, he had Echo by his side. And now, Echo was gone. 

How was he meant to get over his death? 

How was he meant to carry on?

How many of his brothers had gone through the same situation, lost their closest friends? Were forced to continue on into battle as though nothing had happened? Were they really, truly that expendable? Did they not mean anything to the Republic? To the Jedi?

Fives wasn't just a number. Echo wasn't just a number. Hevy, Cutup and Droidbait weren't just numbers. They were men, they were men with feelings and they were men who were filled with hopes and dreams for their futures. 

Echo wasn't just a number.

He suppressed a sob as he leaned forward, reaching for another shot glass, the pinkish liquid sparkled in the dim lights of 79s. 

Usually, he took his shots with pride. 

And now? Now he took them with shame, slamming the clear glass onto the table as he roughly wiped at his eyes. God. It burned so bad. But it also eased the pain, bit by bit until all he felt was fire burning through his lungs, and dizziness tugging at his vision. 

He couldn't go back to the GAR in this state. But who cared? He and the 501st had come back, completely and utterly wasted, many times too many. And nobody even batted an eyelash. On Kamino they'd get a thorough discplining, maybe even a smack on the back of the head. 

He was sure the old geezers back there would be more than happy to hand his ass back to him.

Kriff it, he thought.

One more shot.

The liquid burned, the taste smacking at his tastebuds like a blaster to the back of his head.

Another.

It went on for long enough for the barman to stop him, shaking his head disapprovingly at the trooper.

Getting up from his seat, Fives wished the liquid tasted as good as it looked. He thanked the barman and made his way to the exit. 

Where was he going? 

He wasn't sure. He just knew he needed to move. Or rather stumble.

Waking up to loud banging on your front door certainly wasn't your preferred method, but it was definitely an effective one.

"Kriffing hell, what time is it?" You mumbled, rubbing the sleep crust from your tired eyes. The old, digital clock on your bedside table read 0300, in big, bold neon green numbers, casting a gentle green glow on the otherwise pitch-black room.

Your heart pounded wildly, almost as harshly as whatever idiot was pounding on your door at bloody 3AM in the morning.

You already had a hard day, falling into your bedsheets just moments after Fives had left, thick, shiny tears quickly staining the soft material of your duvet a shade darker for the foreseeable future.

"Who do you think you are-" Your voice harshly cut through as you ripped your front door open, leaning forwards, just narrowly missing a black, gloved fist to your face. Your frown quickly dropped as you noticed the idiot behind the awful disruption, and your anger seemed to evaporate into thin air. "Fives?"

As he looked up, the sight of his honey-gold eyes and tear streaked face, had your heart dropping in an instant.

The sound of humming electricity above your head filled the silent hallway, mimicking the white noise inside of Fives's head as his drunken mind tried to scramble up some words.

The smell of strong vodka and whatever else invaded your senses, you couldn't help how fast your hand flew to cover your nose.

"Y/n..- I-I'm sorry-" He hiccupped, pressing one arm onto your doorframe, his figure towering over you. "I couldn't- I couldn't save him, he's dead. He's dead because of me!" Fives gasped out, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears pooled at his waterline.

"What? No no no!" You exclaimed, quickly opening your arms for him to fall into. "Shh, come on, it's okay." You whispered, easing him into your apartment with slow steps. You shut the door behind, seating him down on your sofa before you went back to lock your front door.

His sobs and hiccupped breaths filled the still silence of your small, colourful apartment. Rubbing at your sore eyes, you quickly fetched a glass of water for him before kneeling at his side.

"Here, drink this," You lifted the glass to his lips, letting him take slow sips, "Slowly, you'll feel sick."

You watched him carefully, taking the water away as he gasped out. Your sofa looked too small for the trooper, his frame easily taking up over almost half of the space. A grunt escaped his lips, and panic flooded you. 

This way going to be a long night..

[honkytonk-hangman]

Line of Sight [2]

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake had offered you his services the next time some guy made you uncomfortable at a bar. He just hadn't thought that guy would be your shitty ex-boyfriend.

Warnings: shitty exes. i dont know how pool works. jakes internal monologue mostly.

Notes: Part two, as requested folks!!!

Masterlist

Jake hadn’t even realised you were out tonight.

After the incident at the club several weeks back, you’d seemingly made yourself scarce when it came to nights out at the Hard Deck. Apparently you’d had some big work project lined up this month and were too tired to make it, but Jake can’t help but think that excuse sounded a little too convenient. You’d been distant before the club anyway, and in a halfway desperate attempt to reel you back in, he’d stepped out of his well established routine with you that night and offered his service when it came to creeps in bars.

He didn’t think you’d really take him up on it, not that he wouldn’t be happy if you did, but he did think it might lend you a little more confidence to hang out, even if Phoenix and Rooster weren’t going to be there.

The weeks went by agonisingly slow for him when you weren’t there, which was a ridiculous way for him to feel considering he barely even spoke to you when you were there. But Jake liked you. He liked listening to you talk and laugh, and if he’s perfectly honest, he didn’t want to end up being the reason that talking or laughing stopped. In his mind, the best way to avoid that was to interact with you as little as possible. He was nice to you, sure, but outside of simple politeness, he didn't know how not to be himself, so naturally, he kept his distance and bit his tongue.

He was content with just being in the radius of you. It was better that way, or so he had thought until you’d started keeping a distance, which had resulted in you being bothered by some douche in a club who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Jake had let himself get closer than he’d ever allowed before, and it was almost enough to sustain him during the weeks you weren’t around.

Jake lets fly his last dart, and whistles as it lands predictably, directly in the centre of the board. Why any of his fellow aviators still played with him, he had no clue, but honestly he’s glad they still do. Fanboy scoffs and rolls his eyes, and Jake manages to dodge the elbow Javy tries to send into his ribs.

“How about this; the winner gets the next round.” Coyote announces, flinging his last dart wildly to the left, earning him little points. Jake simply shrugs, his grin still fixed in place as the others all call out their agreement.

The remainder of the game is played in record time, and the blond bites back a remark about all of their purposeful botched-shots only being slightly worse than usual, and lets himself be dismissed toward the busy bar with a self-satisfied smirk he knows is still infuriating.

When Jake returns, he notices his group has grown larger, an unfamiliar couple laughing and joking with the others. He also notices that you’ve shown up, which immediately saps the rest of his interest.

“Well, if I’d known we were having company I would’ve bought more drinks…” Jake announces as he steps up from behind you, handing off three of the drinks in his hand, and then ignoring Bob and passing you a fresh beer instead. He should have been tipped off that something was wrong when you turn to face him quickly, eyes slightly widened like you’ve been looking specifically for him.

“Jake! There you are!” you exclaim, and Jake blinks down at you dumbly.

“Here I am,” he confirms, unable to stop his frown as you seem to glance briefly back at the unfamiliar couple, and then back at him. You move closer to him, and he watches you hesitate before reaching out and wrapping your hand around his arm. Jake blinks at you again, but finds himself distracted by the feel of your hands as you tuck yourself into his side.

“Ah, so is this him, huh?” the unfamiliar male seems to step toward you, and gestures at Jake, who quickly starts to put together at least some of what the hell is going on. He looks down at you, and you look back, eyes pleading.

Jake falls into character just a little too well. He grins wide, smirking with full force as he gently pulls his arm out of your grasp to wrap securely around your back, his hand resting at your waist in a way that’s incredibly nice.

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Call me Hangman.” Jake leans forward and offers out a hand. The other man takes it, and Jake makes sure to squeeze just a little too hard as they shake.

“I’m David. We used to date,” the man, David, says, gesturing between him and you. Jake smiles brighter and cocks his head.

“I figured.” Jake says dismissively, before quickly looking away from your ex and focusing on you.

You’re staring up at him the same way you had that night, like you’d asked him for help but had expected him to refuse. Expected him to hang you out to dry. He supposes he hadn’t given you much else to expect of him.

“Pool?” you ask, jerking your head off in the direction of the nearby pool table, and Jake nods, separating from you for only a moment to place his own beer into the still floundering Bob’s hands, before following you off a small step away.

Standing slightly separated from the rest of your group, and more importantly, your ex, Jake feels you pull back from him a little as you go about racking up a game, seemingly refusing to look him in the eye. It’s only when you’re taking your first shot that you finally talk again.

“Thank you… I didn’t know what else to do…” you mumble, eyes shooting back and forth between him and the table in front of you. Jake purses his lips, but gives you another nod as he leans down to make his own play, before standing to his full height and staring you down.

“What’s he doing here?” he asks, hoping not to sound too stern, but he can see by the way you quickly flick your eyes away from him and down at your feet that he’s failed.

“Said he’s back in town for a convention or something… brought his new girlfriend.” If you're trying to sound casual about it all, you fail spectacularly, punctuated by the way you briefly glance over to glare daggers at the back of David’s head.

“You haven’t forgotten how much he sucks right?” Jake says sourly, before quickly straightening up and clearing his throat, nodding over at your group again. “I mean, I’ve never seen Rooster look so unfriendly before…” he adds, making you both look at where Bradshaw stands looking somewhat uncomfortable, but not not glaring either.

The sight causes you to chortle softly into your hand, though you do try to hide it as you move around the table, closer to Jake to take your shot. He doesn’t pretend to not be watching you as you do.

“I really am grateful for all of you that night,” you say sweetly, and it makes Jake sneak a glare back in David’s direction, where he finds the other man has positioned himself to where he can watch the two of you playing.

“Here, like this,” Jake says suddenly, quickly placing his own cue down and stepping up behind you. You startle a little, shooting a questioning glance over your shoulder at him, though it falters when he glides his hands over your hips, and then up to your hands. It falls even more when you seem to also catch sight of David. You turn your head back to the pool table as Jake does his very best to keep things appropriate while still bending you over.

“Sorry ‘bout this, gotta make sure David sees you're better off, don’t we?” he hears himself whisper in your ear as he helps you position your hands better. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you beneath him like this, and even though he knows he should quickly help you with your shot and then disengage, but the most selfish part of him outright refuses, instead drawing it out for as long as he can get away with.

“It’s okay,” you all but squeak back, and Jake can’t help but smirk.

“Is it just?” he almost regrets flirting for a moment, until he spies your sweet little smile, and hears the sound of your laugh.

“You’re so weird.” is the next thing you say, and it takes him somewhat off-guard.

“Weird? I’m trying to be sexy…” he tells you flatly, earning another laugh that rings sweetly in his ears.

You finally take your shot, mostly with the help of Jake, and it quickly sinks four of your balls at once, automatically winning you the game. You both stand straight, though when you turn to face him, Jake makes no move back or to give you space, his frame caging you in against the pool table.

“It is sexy… that's the problem.” You tell him almost shyly and with a small frown. At that statement, he immediately takes a small step back, cursing himself out for clearly making you uncomfortable. He knew keeping his distance was the best option.

“You’re always so hot and cold with me, I can’t figure it out.” Your voice sounds a little sad almost, and his own emotions give him whiplash as he suddenly berates the distance he’s always kept between you, wishing he’d just be hot from the start, and kept it hot the whole way through.

“I still can’t even tell if you like me… like, as a friend… I don’t even have your phone number, I have everyone else’s phone numbers, I–”

“–I like you.” Jake cuts you off, blinking rapidly and taking a step forward again. “Why would you think I don’t like you?” He knows its a dumb question, but he feels like he deserves to hear it, torture himself a little.

“You never talk to me, you don’t– you know– you just treat me different. It’s not like I can’t see that, you know!” you get a little indignant at that, and almost look like you're about to cross your arms over your chest when your eyes suddenly skip to something over Jake’s shoulder.

He could almost deck David when his voice sounds from just behind him, but he manages to at least hold back from that.

For now.

“That was a pretty good shot, Jake–”

“–Call me Hangman,” Jake grits out, half turning back to face the other man as he steps into view, his girlfriend tucked under his arm. Without even thinking, Jake lets one of his hands come to rest at your waist, and he gently pulls you closer to him.

“It was all her,” He tells your ex, who inches closer to getting punched when he laughs.

“You must have improved since we dated, then!” David says to you, and the ever so slight downward turn of your lips makes Jake squeeze you softly.

“How about another game, huh?” David asks, already racking the balls and handing his beer off to his girlfriend, who he still hadn’t bothered to introduce. Jake grins, but turns to look at you, his eyes sparkling as he leans in a little closer to you.

“You want me to destroy this guy, for you sweetheart?” He asks quietly, before moving even closer, so close he hears the tiny little gasp you let out, feels it against his lips.

“Wouldn’t do that for just anyone,” he continues, as if tempting you. You blink up at him and he sees that same awestruckness he had that night at the club, relishes in it being directed toward him. He gives your waist a little tap with his fingers when you don’t reply, and it seems to jolt you back. You nod, seemingly trying to tame your own grin, which only feeds into his own.

“Nothing left to bury,” you reply at last, making Jake genuinely have to throw his head back as he laughs. Giving your waist a last squeeze, he kisses your cheek, before stepping away and grabbing his cue again.

“I’d love to play, David.”

[ninyard]

some hc about Aaron & Matt's friendship 🥹

i feel like when Aaron found out that Andrew drugged Matt for his sake he might've spoken to Matt, maybe to apologise, maybe not, but just to say something.

imagine feeling like your brother doesn't give a shit about you, thinking that you're not even on his radar of people worth caring about, and then you find out that he did that? that he did what he did to you, but so much worse, to someone you hardly even know? and not only that, but he did it for you?

picture Matt, in Abby's place, sick and pale, sleeping most of the time when he's not a crying, sweating mess. he apologises to Abby constantly, sorry for how he looks, how he smells, how violently ill he is because of Andrew. tensions are high everywhere, people are disappointed and angry, and nobody knows how to treat the situation. are we angry at Andrew? are we angry at Matt, for taking the drugs in the first place? are we disappointed that this even happened at all?

and Aaron knocks on the door, a shy and hesitant rap of his knuckles on wood, and when he steps in the room, it takes Matt a second to realise it's Aaron, not Andrew. he doesn't even know the twins well enough yet to tell the difference, but Aaron's wearing something that shows he's not wearing the arm bands. so he knows it's Aaron.

"you don't have to be here," Matt croaks, his voice hoarse from disuse, raw from the acid of his stomach that has stayed mostly empty over the last few days. "sign a get well soon card like the rest of them."

"you look rough." Aaron says, an observation that gets a weak laugh from Matt. "how do you feel?"

"about as good as you can imagine," Matt shuffles up in the bed, and covers his mouth to try and stop a wave of nausea that hits him as he moves. Aaron looks away, seeing himself in the bed, knowing how this feels. "let's skip this part, man. i'm too tired. what do you want?"

maybe Aaron can't say it, he doesn't know the right words, maybe he doesn't even know for certain that Andrew did it for him at all. but he knows, of course he does. why else would he? Aaron looks at him, he looks at the circles around his eyes, the sweat on his forehead, and the for-now empty puke bowl on the bedside table.

Aaron wasn't even sure why he came in the first place. Abby stopped him outside, just barely knowing his history with drugs, and told him that Matt was not a pretty sight - it was hard to see, hard to look at. she told him not to go in, to leave it another day or two, or even until Matt could bare to stand up to leave her apartment. does Matt know? was he told? is he going to hate Aaron now, more than he already does, if he tells him why he thinks Andrew has put him in this position? will Matt even believe him if he tells him that he gets it? is it even worth the breath it'd take to say i'm sorry?

maybe Aaron thinks about opting for something else - some support in the way of an i get it, or an it's going to be okay, while knowing that's the last thing he would've wanted to hear in Matt's position. Aaron knows he would've told anyone that offered their shitty, meaningless words of support to him in that position to fuck off and mind their own business, but instead Matt sits there, and he waits, and he listens.

"Andrew didn't do it to kill you," he says, not even the words that he meant to say at all. "he doesn't care about you enough to bother."

"i know." Matt says, and Aaron looks at him like he's not sure how he can be so certain. "but he didn't do it for himself, either, did he?"

does sorry even feel like enough? would Aaron's empathy and understanding be meaningful at all, as Matt lay there, his energy sapped and his brain not working as it should?

i think regardless of how that conversation goes, or where it happens, or how it happens, Matt and Aaron have some sort of understanding between them - Matt is angry that Andrew did this for Aaron, that it was Aaron's fault, in a way, that this happened to him, but he knows it wasn't Aaron's choice. he sees that guilty look in his eyes as he walks into that room, and knows that Aaron had nothing to do with what happened that night. Aaron knows that Matt doesn't blame him, and he gets it - maybe. maybe Matt sees how sick Aaron looks as he looks back at him, how his mouth is downturned in an uncomfortable frown that he poorly tries to hide. maybe if Aaron did apologise, on his own behalf, on Andrew's behalf, maybe Matt wouldn't even accept it anyway. because he knows what temptation can do, he knows what seeing an addict does to an addict. he knows why Andrew did it, if anything else, and he knows why Aaron needed him clean.

i don't know where this is going, really, but i just wonder if they ever spoke about it - if Aaron ever approached Matt in those early days, if they ever understood each other in such a way that knows why they both lay or stood in the positions that they did. just a thought.

[xvxnux]

don't!

(⭐) today is my birthday and i thought i'd post this pac about "what you shouldn't accept?". intuitive tarot reading and maybe not resonate with everyone, hope you enjoy this.

i

for pic one i see it's important that you don't allow any more emotional abuse. i see that you can have someone of influence or power (it can be a mother, father, boss) that directly affects your emotional and with that overloading your mental causing you to have heavy crises of anxiety and even depression. i see that it doesn't just stop there and that this person makes you feel diminished. it's important that you see the best way to work this out and try to get out of this pic one situation, unfortunately they do this to you out of pure evil and not because they want you to learn something. definitely that person has personal issues with you but I don't see a deep reason for that person to do that. it was probably things based in the person's own head and it's reflecting some kind of HER frustration on top of you.

random: i see that this person can attract fights and arguments to you, and i see that you are unwilling and unhealthy to face them. i also see that you will find some way to feel more peaceful and with that the fights and arguments will not affect you as much as now because you will be with inner peace. meditation, listening to your favorite music can help you. if you are asking for a spiritual direction i see that this north is about to be revealed to you and regardless of what the only thing you need to do is take the opportunity and move on, taking yourself out of this suffering.

ii

first of all pic two is not true! everything people say about you is a lie! the people around you (some friends or relatives) have only one function in your life at the moment: to let you down, to say that you can't do it, to say that you won't make it and that you shouldn't even try! the point is that you urgently need to cut these people out of your life. these people have no consideration and at least respect for you, people are cruel and spit any shit on you. honestly pic two people do this because they know it's easy to manipulate you, your ideas and your ideals. you are definitely a super open person and you trust these people, and the more you believe that you are everything they say the more you believe in people... you are sinking.

you may be afraid of being alone, and as much as you know yourself deep down and love the fact that you are like that, all that changes when you have to deal with people. Is it easier for you to believe in people, sinking like this just in exchange for a shitty friendship or company? not. you won't be alone, pic two, but you need to get these people out of your way or at least get the influence these people have on you.

random: you may be neglecting someone. not giving the real value that person deserves. there's someone wanting to get close, but you don't let that person in because of sheer arrogance and bad influence opinions. be careful not to become the people who hurt you pic two, that way you will definitely be alone!

iii

i see injustices of other people towards you, actually a person. i see that apart from this injustice you already have a big problem with yourself. this person can hurt you even though you know you have other issues that make you feel bad. It's been a while since you've felt a little happiness, right? i understand you. this pile can serve the people who chose pic one. this person is sapping your energy more and more, is a person who can be dramatic and blame bad choices on you. it's a person who sneaks up on you and hurts you when you're okay... ok, i get it. this person waits for you to recover to destroy you and with that you are in an infinite loop! this person who commits these cruelties against you is an immature person and uses a sharp tongue knowing that it will not have great consequences but it's time for you to turn against this person, you need to put him in his place!

you can refuse to impose yourself due to lack of patience or even avoid conflict, but it's better to get into a big fight where you have chances to attack than to be in a constant fight where you just get beaten. no matter how much you spare yourself i see that nothing will change. unfortunately you will have to go against it.

random: i see you are going to receive a gift, a very good opportunity. this can be a work or study opportunity, i see that with this opportunity you will have great financial gains.... it will be your chance to get out of this situation! but make no mistake, pic three, as long as you hide from the conflicts you will remain in the same situation.

[kumezyzo]

Omg so i had a request hear me out it’s a bit different but i was thinking

Being fwb with sapnap but you start to act like a couple and catch feelings so quickly for each other 👀

a little bit of angst and more so nsfw themes. also now realizing this is kinda fboy sap at first. fem!reader

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

nick didnt like the idea of being in a committed relationship. but he couldnt get enough of you. he would text you when he missed you. well... more so his dick missed you.

"fuck," he said lowly as he watched you take off your shirt. he sat on his bed, raking his eyes over you. "come here."

you feel your stomach flutter at the way he looked at you with bedroom eyes. his eyes were almost sleepy but you both knew he wasnt in any way tired.

slowly, you made your way over to where he was sitting with his legs spread. you stood between his legs as his hands ran up and down your sides, looking up at you lustfully.

he slowly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down carefully. you watched him slip his fingers into the belt loops and tug them down as he leaned forward to kiss the skin right above your underwear.

you sighed and placed your hand beneath his chin, pulling him away, as his hands still worked your jeans down painfully slow.

"do you ever take this off?" you ask as you pull his hat off his head. he licks his lips up at you as you run a hand through his messy hair.

"only if you want me to, baby," you roll your eyes at the nickname. just then, you shove him harshly to make him lay back on the bed before you step out of your jeans. you slowly move to stradle him on the bed.

"take this off too," you say hovering over him as you tug on his hoodie. "youre wearing too much for someone whos about to have sex."

nick starts enjoying your company too much for his liking. he sees you post on your stories about a shitty professor or repost something about being single. and he has to fight back the urge to ask you about if your day had gone any better or if he had to come over and fuck you for you to stop feeling lonely.

"youre not staying tonight?" he asks, regretting it immediately when you turn to look at him strangely as you look around for your shirt on the floor.

"no?" you sigh and give up on your shirt, looking for your pants instead. "what? do you wanna cuddle?"

"i was kinda hoping for morning sex," he said as he sat up in the bed, resting against the headboard as he watching you search his room for your clothes.

you stood up and crossed your arms with your pants in one hand. you pursed your lips at the sight of him shirtless with a top sheet over his lower half, leaving nothing to imagination. you thought for a second, shaking your head and licking your lips as you let go of your jeans and slowly walked over to the bed.

nick smirked, "you just cant resist me, can you?"

"shut the fuck up," you said as you leaned over him to check the floor on the other side of the bed to find your shirt in a sad pile. you grabbed it and unclasped your bra, taking it off, before throwing your shirt over yourself. "im just using you for your body."

nick laughed at the idea before pulling you into him, "whatever you say, peaches."

the more you two met up at night, the more the other one stayed the night, the more you two would wake up with eachother. this lead to either one of you rushing out or staying and doing your morning routines together.

it started out awkwardly, asking for a spare toothbrush, to shower, or for clothing (mostly on your part). then it became a habit to have things for eachother and falling into a weird morning routines. a lot of it starting with morning shower sex.

you moan loudly and grip onto nicks hair harshly as he sucks on your clit. he groans against you, stimulating every part of your pussy with the vibration of his voice.

recently, every morning, you expect a normal shower whether nick is there to begin with or not. but you seem to not learn your lesson when everytime, you end up writhing in pleasure because of him.

he pulls away and looks up at you for a moment, "whenever your ready," he says before going back in, licking you clit slowly.

"shut the-" you gasp at the way he barely grazed his teeth on the nub. he chuckles smugly and grips your thighs tighter, pulling them apart. "fuck-"

a loud moan rips through you as you reach the high nick had been working for you to reach.

he starts licking slower, licking up the cum that slowly seeped out of you. he sighed contentedly, slurping lewdly as you moaned, trying to push his head away when it started to get to be too much.

he pulled away, looking up at you drowsily as the water beaded down on both of you, "did you still wanna get breakfast? im not too hungry anymore."

staying over at eachothers places became a normal occurrence. somedays, it would be that you two didnt hookup, you would simply stay in bed and cuddle.

"do you think some actors like filming sex scenes?" nick asked you with his head on your chest as a movie played on your tv. displayed on the screen was a sex scene. fitting.

"maybe," you respond without looking away from the screen. "maybe just the gross pervy ones."

"i would like sex scenes if they were with you."

"dumbass."

then, he started asking you to hangout with him and his friends. it made you feel special when he would ask you to a dinner. and people slowly started assuming you two were dating.

"nick, im starting to like your girlfriend more than you," clay would say, a smile on his face from laughing seconds before.

your smile falters momentarily, glancing at nick nervously. he makes eye contact with you.

"i think i am too."

and it just makes sense. for you to be his girlfriend and for him to be your boyfriend. simple as that.

i dont like the ending. but whatever. -nony

[stuckinapril]

If you don’t mind me asking, what does outgrowing someone mean to you?

it's just when your values or priorities or overall person stops aligning w theirs i think. i used to contextualize outgrowing people as a dramatic falling out!! i hate their guts!! they did me dirty!! but w growing up came the revelation that that's hardly ever the case. most of my experiences outgrowing people have been a slow burn. each of us takes a step back, one bit at a time, and then it suddenly hits that the differences have grown far too wide to reconcile. it's almost never just this cataclysmic moment where they're this monumentally shitty caricature of a person.

and sometimes it's just you taking that step back, while they remain in place. sometimes it's just them, and you feel abandoned and stuck. but i stopped demonizing people who just naturally drift away from me--and i also stopped feeling guilty for drifting away from people. i think this is a major thing i've struggled w after reconnecting w a close friend: the realization that she's not a bad person, that she's been going to therapy and addressing her issues, that she's far kinder and more patient and more understanding now... but that maybe she's still not for me and that is okay. at the end of the day it really does come down to how that person makes you feel.

i used to suppress my gut feeling & intuition & just force myself to dwell around people who felt like they were sapping me of air rather than imbuing my life in any way. bc i didn't wanna hurt their feelings. bc they're not a bad person. bc they didn't do anything wrong. but what about what i wanted? so long as you're not a jerk about communicating these feelings, i think it's valid to acknowledge you've outgrown someone--whether it bc bc they changed, whether it be bc you changed, or whether it be bc you woke up one day and just started feeling differently. you're not wrong in that, and neither is anyone in your life who may feel that way about you in the future.

[l-in-the-light]

How about having Law as a friend (not in a romantic way)? 🤔We remember him always saying about Luffy that he's not his friend. But i think he sees his crew as his friends. Does he look for friendship?

I already wrote a full post about it: https://www.tumblr.com/l-in-the-light/759675095669260288, I hope you will enjoy it!

Short answer version: Yes, he used to accept friendships (it was rather rare and only from people he saved), but it was still a struggle for him to open up. Penguin, Shachi, Bepo and Law became very close to each other, he shared the story of his past with them, as well as his full name, he really trusts them. He also became friends with Wolf (inventor from Law's novel) who became a sort of mentor figure to Law. They're all Law's treasure, but for some reason or another he still tries to keep them at a distance. Keeping them safe comes first for him, his own needs second.

Also don't trust Law's words. He lies a lot, not only about friendships. He hides a lot of stuff from the reader as well (for example replacing Smoker's and Monett's hearts). Trust his actions instead. Did you see him do anything to deny that Luffy is his friend? Because no matter how much I looked I never saw any evidence for that. He didn't betray the alliance till the very end of it. Even when his plans went to shit, he still sticked with Strawhats. He cared for them like for his own crew in Wano, also when Luffy got imprisoned in Udon, because of course he wouldn't abandon them. And most importantly, you don't ask to be left on the ground to bleed out just because you feel like dying for this stranger in your alliance. Something like that you do only for a friend, if not actually for a very special friend. Luffy definitely has a spot in his heart.

Overall he is a very loyal, respectful friend (did you notice he always speaks to Luffy on his eye level? He's taller than him, so he either leans down or for example remains on lower step of stairs, so that Luffy doesn't have to look up at him!), even if a bit petty and bratty (but Luffy is like that towards him as well, so they're even). He might not be good at "having fun" with his friends, but he would die for them if needed, like we saw in Wano when he exchanged himself for his crew in prison. But if he doesn't like someone it's rather obvious, just look at his interactions with Kid. Despite disliking him he still does his part of "temporary alliance" with dedication, because that's just how he is at the end of the day. To earn his disrespect one really needs to be a very shitty person. But if someone judges him based on "bad rep" he will most likely refuse to talk or interact with that person, which tbh, would be deserved.

And to answer your last question: I don't think he seeks out friendships. His traumatic past made him fearful of making deeper connections, he didn't want to lose even more people in his life. But he still yearns for bonds with people, he just denies himself that. And seems he has a reason for that. Even if that reason will be finally gone, I don't think he will become a soft sap like fanfics paint him to be. That rough attitude will stay, but maybe he will allow himself to show openly that he cares. That's my bet anyway.