#this came on from nothing at all but i was *reminded* of the jelly is a bitch rhetoric and i saw red

[thoughtssvt]

nanami kento had one condition when it came to fucking you.

he was to always see your face.

cw : gn!reader (no detailed depictions or implications to readers genitalia), mix of dynamics (soft and gentle to rough), cum eating, oral sex (reader receiving), squirting

missionary was always good. he liked touching as much of your body as he could with his. he loved keeping you close, putting almost all his weight on you as if to say i'm here. he'd cup your cheek, keep you from pressing the back of your head too far into the mattress that he wouldn't be able to watch your blissed out face. always swallowing your moans because, god, he had to taste you. his tongue always yearning for both sets of lips.

having you on top awakened something primal in his chest. the way you'd struggle to stay upright with the force of his strokes like it was actually his goal to throw you off. the only down side to this position were the moments you would throw your head back. he loved the idea that he was fucking you into a blissful arch, he wouldn't trade it for the world. "play with those pretty nipples, darling." he'd command through gruff pants, jaw slack as he examined the way your brows would knit tight. your body naturally curling forward as your hips began moving with his until you were forced to plant your hands on his chest.

on rare occasions your schedules refused to line up he was happy to take advantage of the sliver of time you actually had together under a weak veil of efficiency. the mornings when you were half naked in front of the sink, dutifully brushing your teeth as he stepped out of the shower. he couldn't help the way his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you close, taking in your scent. he'd ignore your incredulous expression as he began kissing your neck, rough fingers running under the waistband of your underwear. "just keep doing what you're doing. don't mind me." you never really knew how you'd get from one point to the next on mornings like these. toothpaste suddenly running down your chin as he pumped into you from behind. a firm arm keeping you upright, your chin fitted between his thumb and forefinger as he compelled you to watch. watch how good he made you feel. how good you look while he does. it's one of his favorite sights if not number one. his voice drawing your focus no matter how much you wanted to roll your eyes back as he lifted your leg up onto the sink's expanse, hammering into you impossibly deeper.

with the same intention, it was the only reason you had a full body mirror in your shared bedroom. his hand tugging the hair at the nape of your neck just enough to keep your head up, providing a delicious sting. when he's feeling rougher he especially liked you on his lap, your legs draped over his thick ones as he sat on the edge of the bed. spreading you wide so he could see all of you. his arms looping around your shoulders until he could intertwine his hands behind your neck. the only way to keep your head from drooping as he bullied your sweet spot. relishing the sight of your spasming body as you splashed against the glass. his eyes would darken, guiding your jellied body to your reflection to clean up your mess. chest rumbling with a reminder to keep your eyes open.

the only time he allowed your head to dangle uselessly was when he was pinned beneath you, his mouth working dutifully between your legs. nothing mattered when you were riding his face. not his lack of breath, not the way his cock twitched painfully in his slacks, not even the way his eyes burned and threatened to close. he'd keep his eyes on you. the view so divine that he could cum untouched to which he has, unashamedly, done in the past.

he'd keep pictures and videos of your fucked out face on his phone if it wasn't so risky, so please don't blame him for all the positions he put you in at the end of the night.

A/N : the creation of this piece was a possession, i fear.

nanami x reader masterlist

mdni banner + heart chain divider by @/adornedwithlight

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny can i order banana bread with hard lemonade with max please. make it spicy. make it nasty. make it sloppy. make it fucking filthy😩😩 i fucking love you and all your works and i trust you with baking and cooking

the bakery menu

want to order something? then browse the menu to see what we have! as for this order, i hope that there's enough spice in this for you! i ended up writing this a little stoned, so i hope everything turned out okay!!

banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

cw: smut/pwp, possessive behavior, recreational drug use (weed), reference to smoking & drinking, dom!max, counter/kitchen sex, high sex

you liked parties. maybe, not all the time. but once in a while there was nothing like being surrounded by people and drinking the night away before you slinked off to bed to nurse the eventual hangover. max didn't mind that you went out partying. he trusted you to not do anything extremely stupid that would hurt you or your relationship.

there was one rule, no hard drugs. neither of you needed the trouble that came with too much of a mind altering substance. even if he let you go out to party, he still worried about you when he couldn't go with you. so for your best interest, no drugs.

but there you were, seated on top of the counter in max's kitchen while he dutifully made you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you were still in your party clothes with one of his expensive jackets around your shoulders. you claimed that you were cold. you kicked your legs against the cabinets under you.

you giggled a little.

he handed it to you on a plate and said, "eat." before he grabbed a (plastic) cup from the cupboard above the sink and filled it full of water. he handed it to you, "drink. slowly." then rested against the counter, keeping a stern eye on you.

his blue eyes were piercing as he made sure that you did what he said. you already caused enough trouble tonight. from what your friends told him when they brought you home, you had a few too many puffs of a joint. max didn't think that weed was the devil, but he didn't want you doing anything reckless without him.

as a result he had his very stoned girlfriend seated on the counter and happily eat a pb&j sandwich. he then got closer and rubbed your bare knee. he leaned in and licked a speck of jelly on the corner of your mouth.

he said softly, "you have to be a good girl for me. listen and behave. i know it's tempting to want to be like the others, but i need to keep you safe. what would happen if you took too much and someone tried to hurt you?" he kissed you on the lips, tasting the sweetness of your late night snack on your lips.

"i was fine, maxie." you beamed as you felt his kisses pepper your face. you giggled and squirmed, it was cute. you only called him maxie when you were very intoxicated.

he felt a curl of possessiveness in his gut as he touched your arms. you looked so good in his clothes. maybe next time you go out, he'll make you wear a little reminder of him.

"my poor treasure.' he said, "you just have to be the life of the party. now, is there anything else you took?"

you shook your head, "nope. nothing else, i promise. i felt too giggly after the joint and then i ended up back home. but, honestly, maxie... i want you."

he chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair, "oh i bet. i bet you thought about me on the ride home. you thought about my cock inside of you, i bet if left to your own devices you would've made a mess of the seat of your friend's car." he pushed up the skirt of the 'slutty' dress you wore that night.

you blushed and wanted to hide your face, which only made max chuckle. he pushed the skirt up further until your pretty blue underwear was on display for him.

he licked his lips, "tell me when to stop." he wanted to make sure that you weren't too high to know what was going on. he wasn't a monster.

you nodded and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. you said softly, "give it all to me, maxie." and kissed his ear before you fell apart in giggles. you leaned up against the cabinets and let max take off your panties. he left them dangling on your left ankle.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said honestly, he briefly looked to you and licked his lips.

you watched him take his cock out of his sweatpants, he could see you were already so hot all over. he spread your legs further as he got closer in between them.

his cock was decently sized, nothing to be scared of. nothing that would hurt you if he tried to jam it in. you knew the fantasy was a large cock, but you had you heard stories of bruised cervixes that max was just the right fit for you.

he braced his hands on either side of you on the counter as he slid his cock into your sweet pussy. it wasn't a painfully slow insertion, but when he got his cock to the root. he felt a sense of relief at the feeling of you.

he kissed at your face as he thrusted in and out of you. the tip barely out before he slid back in. he groaned through the kisses that he peppered your face with.

"mmm, that's it." he said, "you feel so good, my treasure. how's that head of yours?" he asked as he thrusted up into you harder. it was quick and hard rhythm.

you felt on cloud nine, with the two shots of vodka, all that weed and now the heightened feeling of having sex all made your head race with thoughts of nothing. everything kind of blended together in your mind.

you held onto his shoulders, your fists tied up in the shoulders of his white t-shirt. you were breathing heavily and felt your core throb. you whined, "max, ah. fuck. i couldn't stop thinking about you on the ride home. i was so fuckin' horny." you whined.

you got horny when you smoked, most would devour a pizza. you'd do that with ease but also want to be fucked until you were a fucked out pile of goo on the bed until you reformed into a human in the morning.

"oh yeah, did you look at photos of me?"

"yes, maxie." you purred.

"were they safe photos?" he asked as he leaned even more up against you. letting him get even closer to you. as if he wasn't already in your personal space.

you giggled, "of course! i didn't want to show my friends what you're packing down there." you had an assortment of nudes from him as he did for you.

he kissed at the nape of your neck, your thighs tightened around his waist as he bullied his cock into you. you were perfect like this, submissive like a little lamb. he chuckled, "good, don't want to cause an incident."

he continued to fuck you on top of the granite countertop in the kitchen. his thrusts were fast and it made you moan loudly against him. you felt your heart thump wildly in your chest.

it all felt so good. you clutched onto his t-shirt as he fucked you rapidly, "please, maxie."

"cum for me, treasure. i know you need it." he whispered in your ear as he continued to move.

you kicked out your legs a little as you came, your noise was high pitched but yet so sweet. it was painfully cute when you did it. it made him hot all over. you felt painfully good.

"good girl."

you held onto him tightly as he battered your pussy with a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you. you panted against his shoulder and clung to him tightly.

he said sweet nothings to you both in english and dutch which made you feel like jelly. you leaned up against him as he finished inside of you with a rough groan.

"my treasure." he purred as he slowed down to a stop. he held you for a moment, feeling your heavy breathing against his shoulder.

"maxie." you purred, still hot all over. the weed was still in your system.

he pulled out of you and tucked his cock back into his sweatpants. he admired the bit of cum that leaked out of your poor cunt. it eased any possessiveness in his mind, relaxed him that he was able to make his beloved girlfriend feel good.

"c'mon, finish that water and we'll get you to bed." he patted your thigh before he pulled your pretty panties back up over your hips.

you nodded softly before you carefully got a hold of the cup and finished the rest of the water quickly. you could be good, for once!

-

the following week, max was being nice and helping you put your strappy sandals before you went out for the evening with some of the other partners of drivers.

when he got up from the floor, he reached over down the couch and grabbed a windbreaker jacket with his team, name and number on it. he put it on you before he zipped it up to the top, effectively hiding the suggestive outfit you were wearing.

he patted your shoulders and kissed your forehead before he said, "there, perfect. now remember, no drugs. okay?" he kissed you again, "you're going to be good for me?"

you nodded, "always max. but i am tempted to be bad again. if that means you'll fuck me on the counter again."

max smiled as he tapped your nose, his face close to you, "next time i won't be so generous. if you come home to me high again, i'm not going to be as nice."

you smiled at him, "then i'll be good then." you got up from the couch and embraced your boyfriend. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and felt safe in his arms for a moment, "no weed, no nothing."

"good, that's what i like to hear. now you for have fun, treasure." he kissed your cheek. he walked you to the front door before he saw you out. when he closed the door once you left, he palmed himself through his sweatpants at the thought of you.

he walked to the bedroom and searched in the back of the closet. he pulled out a pair of leather cuffs and a blindfold. he walked back to the bed casually and placed them down softly.

just in case you decided to misbehave again <3

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!

anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)

i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol

so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)

what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)

mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol

the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)

when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft

not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....

ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr

nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3

the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol

'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft

also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol

the less said about swastknickers the better

(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)

i just love these kinds of jokes pfft

also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)

also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft

all three of these made me cry with laughter lol

ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol

both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)

the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...

ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??

&&&& that's it lol

there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol

there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol

[m4ctavish]

soap & ghost — wind down.

masterlist

pairing (s) : john “soap” mactavish/gn!reader, simon “ghost” riley/gn!reader

desc : some sweet headcanons on what it’s like to get these two to wind down and relax after a long day. also just me rambling about certain things

a/n : reader can be viewed as either a civilian or solider ^^

john “soap” mactavish :

soap is put at ease by your presence alone, but what really helps is having your hand in his or being able to rest against you.

i feel like touch is important to him when it comes to getting him to relax; hold his hand and stroke the back of his hand with your thumb or just trace nonexistent shapes. or, just hold him for a bit when the two of you are alone. let him bury his face in to your neck and hold you tight: let him remind himself that you’re there and you’re real.

after a particularly long day, all he wants to do is lay down with you close to him. he’ll wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest and resting his head atop of yours. he takes comfort in the constant that is your heartbeat. alternatively, if the two of you are on the couch or somewhere where you can’t lay down together, he’ll rest his head in your lap and close his eyes. (to be honest, i have a feeling he’s a sucker for when your trace over his features— just stroking his cheek has him folding)

talk to him about your day if the two of you spent time apart— tell him the ups and downs, he really wants to know. plus, he really just likes hearing you talk, even if it’s just rambling about something that you find interesting or something that made you mad a few hours prior.

you’ll probably have to coax him in to getting up and cleaning up. “shower. now, mactavish.” “i dinnae-“ “go.”

he appreciates it when you join him for a shower or bath, particularly when you’re behind him, helping him wash his hair when he doesn’t have the energy to do it himself; his muscles are aching and his bones feel like jelly but he supposes it’s alright when he has you there, running your fingers along his skin and scalp, leaving a trail of suds and washing away the accumulated grime.

after that, it’s back to bed for him (and you) with him pulling you close, arms wrapping around you comfortably. he’ll hold on to you all night if you let him but if not, having you lay next to him will suffice.

simon “ghost” riley :

ghost takes a bit to wind-down and fully relax, likely needing some aid.

take some time to help him remove the grease paint around his eyes with a warm rag and some soap; standing between his legs, one hand tilting his chin up so he can look at you whilst your other hand works to gently drag the rag along his under eyes, cleaning up any stray dark spots. his hands are resting on your hips— it helps keep him grounded, helps keep him in the present and prevents his mind from wandering to endeavors of the day.

when you’re done, he’ll usually mumble a soft “thanks” or a “love ya,” and give you a gentle squeeze.

sometimes you’ll stand there a bit longer, letting him rest his head against your stomach, carding your fingers through his hair. these are his favorite moments— it feels like everything goes still and there’s nothing in the world but the two of you. no wars, no betrayals, just you.

it’s baffling to him that one person could provide him with such a sense of serenity and sometimes he finds himself wondering if he’s even deserving of such a thing. those thoughts go as quickly as they came though when you mumble a quiet but heartfelt, “i love you, simon.”

kinda feel like he purrs like a cat sometimes if he’s relaxed— not like, downright purring but more like a low hum/rumble in his chest. like, you’re just stroking his jaw or rubbing his cheek and there’s just this low “hmm” (does that make sense LOL)

alternatively, ghost needs some time alone to unwind; it’s nothing personal, that’s just how he is. it’s hard to tell where he goes— he’s just out the door and it’s hard to track him after that unless he wants to be found, which isn’t very often.

i imagine that he has a few places he frequents, usually high up where he can comfortably watch everything and everyone from above. it’s usually quiet that high up too, helps him clear his mind when it’s nothing but raging turmoil.

[theprismyyy]

Makeup, makeup, makeup!!!

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!reader

Tw: Kisses and a little smut

(English is not my first language)

This was actually quite short and honestly hasn't been and won't be reviewed, I'm so sleepy I don't have the mood for it right now.

Honestly, I don't think Natalie knew much about makeup other than how to do a good smoky eyeliner and apply a little concealer; as if she literally has a concealer with a half worn and scratched packaging, a black eyeliner that is already so small after so much use that she can barely hold it, but this girl literally refuses to buy another one and will continue with it until it is humanly impossible to continue using it, it would also be one of those super difficult to remove, you can use soap, wet wipes, makeup remover...nothing is capable of completely removing this eyeliner...I think that maybe she could also have some semi-dry mascara and a cherry lip balm because she likes the flavor, she would be a bit like a child licking her lips to feel the flavor, the poor baby doesn't even realize she's doing it anymore, it's almost automatic.

She would think it would be super cute if you were the type of person who was really interested in makeup things, especially if you were interested in watching tutorial videos, researching prices and new launches and stuff like that. Little by little Natalie would see herself more deeply included in this little universe of yours, sending you videos of makeup that she thinks would look good on you, or sending you posts about the new launch of a line that you really like just because she is on social media and It reminded you of yourself when you came across that.

She loves being your guinea pig for makeup, but I really don't think she would be a fan of high coverage, she would let you test it on her anyway if it was something you like or are curious about trying to replicate, but she would end up getting all agonized over all the makeup. heavy textures on her face

She would 100% be the kind of girlfriend who goes out to buy you lipstick as a favor and comes back with a bag full of products that at one point she doesn't even know what they are for anymore, but the saleswoman said they were good so she believes because if she works there then she knows what she is saying; Plus she thinks you'll like it

She is totally weak for kisses with lipstick or gloss, she loves the feeling of intimacy of it, she loves the texture of your lips against hers, the smell and taste; this beautiful girl would be weak in the knees and jelly, full of butterflies in her stomach because everything is so sweet, so delicious and suddenly she feels all warm and fuzzy and these vibrations seem to travel exactly to that sensitive spot between her legs.. .all you know is that this girl ends up with her face between YOUR legs and she is such a sloppy pussy eater, practically drowning in the taste of your juices mixed with the lingering sweetness of your lip gloss on her lips

She would also love to see your beautiful makeup smeared while she fucks you;) it's the hottest thing in the world for her, her lipstick smeared from all the kisses, mascara running with fat tears from overstimulation because she's fucking you so well with her strap on and for so long your legs are weak and you no longer know how many times you came

© 2024 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my work without my permission.

[pynkgothicka]

Ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ Ｍａｔｔｅｒｓ Ｂｕｔ Ｙｏｕ ＪＨＳ

Pairing - Different Timeline! Dark! Jung Hoseok! x AFAB! Reader

Synopsis- Based off Everything Everywhere All At Once, a random man shows up at your door. Part 3 of the Movie Series!

Featuring - No one!

Word Count - Around 1k

Tags and Warnings - Violence, EEAAO Refs

Authors Note - I wrote my way into circles with this one… I tried hard. So so so hard.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Music droned on in the background as you cleaned up your apartment. You gathered up scattered books and magazines, wiped down surfaces, and dusted shelves, practically anything to distract yourself. A thunderstorm echoed outside, rain pouring down. You glanced longingly at your patio, usually a peaceful escape from the world outside, but now drenched in rain. With a sigh, you settled back into tidying up.

You made yourself an everything bagel once you were done. Your life was usually lonely, but you enjoyed the solitude. It made you more focused on the little tasks you had in progress. Putting a mixture of cream cheese and jelly on the treat, you turned down your music and put on Adventure Time. The perfect scene of relaxation, and an accomplishment from cleaning up.

Then you heard a knock at your door. “I didn't expect any guests today…” You mumble getting up and pausing the television. As you open the door, you see a man drenched from head to toe, looking at you with a mix of amazement and loss. “Hello?” You say trying to snap him out of it.

He perked up, clearing his throat and speaking. “Can I come in, I need a place to wait out the storm.” He asks. You tilt your head in confusion. Your apartment is on the 4th floor - why didn't he just wait in the lobby downstairs? Surely they wouldn't turn him away. But you can't leave him outside to freeze and get sick. So you step aside and let him in.

“Yeah it's no problem, I know that weather just came out of nowhere.” You say getting a towel from your clothes hamper. You give it to the man and head to your small kitchen to get something warm for him to eat as well. “The towel just came from the dryer, and I'm going to heat up something for you to eat. I don't want you to get a cold.”

“Thank you, though your kindness is wasted on someone like me.” He mutters, wrapping the towel tightly around his shivering frame. You ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach and continue to heat up a bowl of soup for him. “Do you stay up here by yourself? I mean I couldn't live alone, especially in the city.”

“Well, I enjoy solitude. I tried the whole roommate thing and it just never worked out.” You explain, handing him the steaming bowl and a spoon. As he eats, you lean against the kitchen island, trying to avoid his intense gaze. “What about you? I don't remember ever seeing you around here. Where are you from?” You ask, trying to deflect some of the attention away from yourself.

He leans over, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Hoseok, well I'm really from nowhere. I don't know I'm just lost, to be honest.” A pang of sympathy hits you as he speaks. Hoseok sits there, consumed by his own inner turmoil. Instinctively, you reach out to grab the empty bowl but he catches your forearm in a tight grip. You try to jerk back but Hoseok peers up at you.

His eyes were crazed. Pupils wide. His attention is straight on you.

“But you can save me.”

You knew something was up. Your other hand goes to Hoseoks face, stopping him temporarily. Quickly, you reach out a hand to stop him from getting too close. Your other hand fumbles towards the kitchen counter, grabbing your trusty handgun for protection. “You need to get the fuck out of here.” You say pointing the gun at him.

“This one has the gall to try and fight back!” He says walking towards you, raising a hand, and snapping. The gun transforms before your eyes, turning into a misshaped load of bread. “You never tried fighting back before, that makes my suspicions correct. You're the one to replace her.” He rambles moving closer to you.

“What are you talking about…” You say body pressed against the countertop. Your hand goes behind you grabbing a kitchen knife. You grab onto it, readying for when he is distracted.

Hoseok snickers. “I watched my girlfriend die, my own timeline… she was glorious. One of the smartest women I've known, but she died because she experimented with her own head. Perfecting jum-” You take the knife and lodge it into Hoseoks stomach. He doubles over crying out. You move away from him, watching him as you slide over to a wall. Hoseok wails holding the knife. “No! Baby don't go! You've wounded me, god it hurts so bad!” He lifts his hands, coated in red up to his face, hands holding and running down his face. He plucks his fingers one by one into his mouth as he stands. “Mmm, Strawberry flavor. Did you make toast earlier or something?”

Your eyes widen as the supposed knife is now a bottle of strawberry jam. Hoseok was completely out of your league, there was no way you could take him. His hand runs down the countertop his nails changing colors with each second. His hand leaves behind swirls of colors that constantly change. He grabs the towel which transforms into a rope in his hands, his wild eyes darting between the two of you. “What even are you?! Who even are you really?!?” You yelled sliding to your bedroom. You had changed your plan to leave through the fire escape.

The man followed behind you at a slow pace. “Hoseok, or Jay, or maybe J-Hope, maybe even Hobi. God, what does your timeline call me?” He says digging into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, and reading the ID inside. “Yeah seems like I'm Hoseok here. So I'm just Hoseok to you. And I'm the man who just wants his life back.” He sneers, stretching the rope. You run to your window but are stopped, Hoseok grabbing your neck with the rope with the precision you couldn't even begin to fathom.

You're forced on the bed, Hoseok straddling you as he forces the rope tighter on your neck. You choke and gasp as he digs the rope into your neck. “L-Let go.” You manage to gasp out. Your hand goes to his face, trying to push him even a little bit to let off of you. And it works as he stumbles back. You catch your breath, looking at him as he regains his posture. Crawling back you grab your lamp and try to attack him for one final attempt.

You could've almost predicted it turning into a bunch of fireflies. You looked at your hands, finally giving in. You sobbed as Hoseok stood back up getting on his knees in front of you, as you sat on the bed. “Nothing makes sense… why does nothing make sense?”

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[stusbunker]

Spotless: Schleppen

Chapter Sixteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Lee/Pam/Benny, Jesse/Cesar, Charlie/OFC, unnamed female character

Word Count: 2644

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, everyone is hungover, Dean steps in it, Sam is so done with their shit, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean didn’t sleep. Or if he did, it was in the last gasps of darkness and so short, he couldn’t feel its relief. Alcohol affects the REM cycle, so whoever taught him to have a drink before bed to help with his insomnia (John) was wrong. It was just one of the many things he’d learned in therapy. Dean found he had many things yet to unlearn.

No one who had stayed over was in any better shape when he got downstairs.

Bela and Trouble had bunkered down on the couch in the den, Charlie had claimed one of the bedrooms with a woodland elf, the other spare went to Pam and Lee, but Dean was pretty sure he had heard Benny through the walls, so maybe him too. The other girl Charlie brought along was on the floor curled around Jesse fruitlessly, because Cesar, who was sitting with his back to the end of the couch, still asleep, held his partner’s head in his lap. He wondered if Sam was already up and running until Madison came down the stairs in search of caffeine with a shirtless and rumpled Sam on her heels.

“Morning,” Dean said smugly to them both.

Madison met his gaze and tried not to blush, which Dean found oddly refreshing, while Sam just flipped him off and dove in for a cup of coffee before it was even done brewing.

They moved in hushed whispers, but the Winchesters’ words were doomed to carry with their baritone. After Madison admonished them for not having more to eat in their fridge, Dean stepped up and ordered a combo of both greasy and sweet options to be delivered with an impressive tip to the driver for their discretion.

Bela helped herself to Dean’s shower and some of his clothes. And if anyone had found it odd that they hadn’t slept together, no one was ballsy enough to mention it. Or maybe they were all just too hungover to care. 

He still hadn’t seen Pam and company emerge and he wondered if he was going to have to risk walking in on some alternative hangover cures. 

Luckily for everyone, the pounding on the front door for the food was enough to rouse the stragglers and beckon them back to civilization.

“Happy 2018 everybody!” Pam croaked with a shiteating grin on her face as she took in everyone’s subdued state.

She was met with lackluster replies, grumbles and a very sarcastic cheer from Charlie. She tutted at them and sauntered her way towards the jelly donuts.

As rough as he felt, Dean lived for mornings (or early afternoons) like this. His kitchen was filled with people he loved, sharing food and just existing together, safe and warm. It’s what being in a band was all about. He started another pot of coffee when Bela slinked over and hugged him from behind, resting her face between his shoulder blades.

“I’ll just have a nap right here, thanks,” she mumbled against his shirt.

“Oh yeah?” Dean peered down at her. “You know, you can take my bed if you’re still tired, not gonna rush anybody out today.”

“‘S too far,” Bela complained. “And I already showered, no sense delaying the inevitable.”

Dean turned in her arms, letting her rest against his chest instead. He rubbed her back and looked up when he felt someone watching him. You sat folded in on yourself on one of the tall chairs, looking as if you were going to puke all over the counter.

“You okay over there?” Dean asked, more alarm slipping into his voice than the jest he intended. He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go of Bela as she turned to look at who he was talking to.

Gaping at him like a deer caught in the headlights, you nodded. 

Dean reminded himself to breathe, feeling everything you were saying by the look in your eyes. He fucked up. But in that moment there was nothing he could say that would fix it. Bela was supposed to be his girl, it would be too obvious to step away from her now.

As much as he suddenly wanted distance, he held on tighter, like she was a shield against his feelings for you. And against the look of betrayal in your eyes.

“When do you want to leave— Y/N?” Bela broke through Dean’s silent spiraling and started making plans to get home.

“Lemme drive you guys— could use some fresh air,” Dean cut in before they could order a ride.

“Are you sure? I’m a little out of the way,” you asked, worried over being a burden or being trapped in a car with him, Dean couldn’t be sure.

“Positive, just say when, and I’ll get Baby all set to go,” Dean insisted.

Bela kissed Dean on the cheek and thanked him for a wonderful time, promising to text him her schedule later. She reached over the backseat to grab your hand, smiling mischievously, “another one for the books. See you at brunch?”

“If I can eat by then,” you muttered, smirking as she slid out of the car.

“Bye!” Bela called as she disappeared through the door from the garage into the kitchen.

Dean cleared his throat and leered at you in the rearview mirror.

“You gonna come up here or am I gonna have to call you Miss Daisy?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you didn’t open your door.

“I can wait all day. If you think you can out- stubborn me–,”

“FINE!” you snapped, throwing open the door and almost slamming it into Bela’s car’s rear end. “Asshole.”

Dean tried not to laugh outright, but you were kind of adorable when you were pissed. Once you were situated in the passenger seat, purse and coat lumped on your lap and seat belt secured, Dean continued to wait.

“What?! We can go now.”

“Easy! I’m just adjusting my mirrors, don’t want to back into anything,” Dean added with an air of responsibility.

“You so were not,” you grumbled, huffing before leering at the sideview as Dean crawled out of Bela’s driveway.

It was going to be a long drive.

Once they were out of the canyon, Dean decided he was going to have to put some of those lessons from Missouri to use. “So— you wanna talk about it?”

You glared at him like he asked if you wanted to eat your jacket.

“Come on, I know you’re pissed. Let me have it,” Dean egged you on, okay, maybe he could have said that better.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, eyes on your hands.

“Really? You gonna pretend you’re not having a bitchfit right now?”

“Dean Henry Winchester, do not make me call Charlie and tell her you called me a bitch.” And just like that you were all in. “I cannot believe you right now.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, look, you can’t just go around kissing people and then shoving your relationship in their faces. It’s called mixed signals, asshole!”

“Oh, so you can call me an asshole, but I can’t call you names?!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Dean sighed, he was letting himself get defensive instead of focusing on what you were really saying. It suddenly felt like a horrible idea to have this conversation when neither of you could escape.

“I don’t know what relationship you’re talking about— the fake dating thing you roped me into?! Cuz that’s not real, that’s playing nice— for you!” Dean hadn’t realized how much he resented you for this whole set up, but now that the words were out of his mouth, things made a lot more sense.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

“You want me to ignore her, huh? Pretend she’s not there, in front of everybody this could hurt if it gets out that it’s all a lie?!”

You turned on him then, taking a deep breath as Dean made sure he wasn’t too distracted to drive. “Is it a lie?”

Dean looked back at the road and licked his lips. How much did you know? How much was it safe to tell you? How much of Bela’s life was private, even from you?

“What are you talking about?! Of course it’s a lie, an act, a ruse! You were the mastermind here, remember?!”

“You know what, Dean? I think the lady doth protest too much,” you said. “I think you know it was wrong to do what you did, but now you’re trying to pin this on me. When I only did it to cover your ass!”

“That is so not fair. I own my shit. What are you really pissed at here? Me in general? Me kissing you? Me hugging Bela? Me making your job harder? WHAT?!”

You groaned. “YES! Okay? YES!”

You stopped your tirade and looked at him and Dean felt you deflate as he glanced back onto the road ahead.

You started over, trying for calm, “you are inherently annoying, I think we both know that.”

Dean huffed. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No, listen. I knew this thing wasn’t going to be easy— for any of us. But it’s the best way to turn everything around. But— if you can’t do it anymore, if there’s something you need to tell me, I’ll understand. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just— just don’t lie to me, okay? I can’t fix things if I don’t have the whole story.”

Dean felt about two inches tall. He wiped his hand down his face and growled, pissed at himself and whatever you were fishing for. Because it was still all his fault. Somehow, he had gotten you home, he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

“I can do it, okay? This is on me. I’ll make it right. I’ll be on my best behavior, get us out on tour without a hitch. Make the label all the money and start to earn back everybody’s respect. I owe them all that much,” Dean promised to your suspicious face.

“Dean—”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know? Seriously. I won’t be pissed. I just— feel like, like I’m out of the loop on this.”

“You were there all night. I think you got a good idea how things are going. Uh, what more can I say, you know? I’m sorry, though, for making you worry. Okay?” Dean ducked his head, making sure you were seeing him, eyes trying to make you see what he couldn’t say, but what he most definitely felt.

Maybe he hadn’t learned anything from Missouri at all. But he was still trying.

“If you’re sure— we’ll keep it going. We've still got over a month before we’re on the road, but it’s gonna go fast now. I just need you to be on your A game,” you said firmly, cementing it into the fabric of your shared reality.

Just keep carrying on.

Dean could do that. He had to.

“Sounds like a plan. And Trouble, do me a favor?” Dean leaned over, slipping into his charming self. “You gotta loosen up, okay? Get a hobby, get laid, just find somewhere to put all this shit you carry so it’s not weighing you down. Okay?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, tossing the door open and crawling out. “Like it’s that easy. Happy New Year, Dean, drive safe.”

“Later.”

Dean waited until you made it into the house before starting the engine back up. He didn’t go home right away, instead he took a drive along the coast, letting his mind try and untangle the knot you’d just made by having that conversation. 

Six am came way too early the following morning and with it, Sam pounding on Dean’s door to get his ass downstairs and into the gym. Right, his New Year’s resolution and his fucking brother holding him to it. 

“Gotta piss, calm down Billy Blanks,” Dean groaned, rolling out of bed.

He did his business, changed into something he could move around in, and finally found some tennis shoes at the back of his closet.

By the time he made it into the part of their basement they had turned into a gym, Sam was already sweating with a jump rope warm up. 

“What?! I’m here aren’t I? It’s not that late,” Dean grumbled at Sam’s judgey face.

They worked out with little discussion, spotting each other when they moved onto weights. They hadn’t worked out the details of this new shared routine, but slowly Dean felt it falling into place. The strain of his muscles and the swelling of his lungs all reminded him to be present and mindful. To let his body take over building when his mind wanted to use it to punish.

After they had stretched and were winding down, Dean decided to tape up his hands and spend some time on their speed bag. But, of course, that drew Sam’s attention.

Anything that hinted at Cain or Alastair always did.

“What?”

Sam looked him over. “You good?”

Dean didn’t want to have a different version of the trainwreck conversation the day before. But Sam knew everything, more or less anyway. Dean didn’t look up from his task, mesmerized by how soft his knuckles had gotten recently.

“I kissed Trouble.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam laughed, actually, genuinely laughed at him. “How’d that go?”

Dean considered the act itself. “Well—- she didn’t hit me.”

Sam sat down on the end of the bench, settling in for the dirt. “Were you expecting her to?

Dean looked over and saw Sam was no longer teasing. “Could you blame her? Some guy like me? A fuck up with a history of diddling her friends?”

“Dean.”

“I know, I know. Believe in myself. I am worthy of love. I know, okay. Just… she didn’t say anything. Just stood there after pulling away, staring at me in total shock.”

“Did she kiss you back?”

Dean thought about it, remembering the way your mouth let him in. “At first, yeah.”

Sam chewed that over. “Does Bela know how you feel about her?”

“Sam, I’m not even sure how I feel about her.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah you are. You just have been too stupid and self deprecating to do anything about it. Does she?”

Dean shook his head.

“Are you guys fucking?”

“Not like, committedly.”

“Okay, well, you should probably stop that. And tell Trouble how deep you’re in it. Like, I hate being alone with you two, it’s so obvious.”

Dean flipped Sam off.

“What? No, I’m serious. You guys just need to get over your shit and tell each other how you feel. And warn me, because I do not want to come home for like a week after all those years of tension is finally worked out, god.”

Dean kind of gets lost in that image for a minute. “Nah, we’d go to her place. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam couldn’t even tease him after how pathetic he sounded. “But first you need to tell her.”

Dean sighed. “I can’t. I promised her I’d behave and stick to the plan. I can’t risk pissing off Dick and Crowley anymore, I don’t want to jeopardize the band.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you this was a bad idea and I just want to reiterate that point,” Sam snarked.

“Yeah, well, them’s the breaks,” Dean huffed as he hauled himself up and squared off with the hanging bag.

He found a rhythm and kept on his toes.

“Dean, seriously, just tell her how you feel. Life’s too short, you know?” Sam said to Dean’s back.

Dean sighed, upping his pace. Because, yeah, life was really too short.

But there was still nothing he could do about it now.

Author's Note: LISTEN! I did not even outline the first 2/3rds of this chapter. IT just HAPPENED, so yeah, they're still both idiots.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Seventeen: Trill

[wolven91]

Eating Habits

Kevin stared as the alarming clicks and cracks of a dislocated jaw snapping back into place continued only a foot away, across the table.

Meesha, the giant blue serpent he was being escorted by that day 'hummed' in enjoyment and contentment. The ssypno were huge apex predators, but after the last year and a half of seeing them around, Kevin had thought he'd gotten used to them by now. His new guardian however, taught him the 'mild' aspects that he'd missed in his brief interactions in the past. Specifically in this moment; their eating habits.

"I love it when they warm it up just right, really gives it... flair! You know?" She gleefully celebrated as the alien deer sized lump descended into her body before disappearing from sight below the table. It had been so big that Kevin had wondered what she was going to do with it, let along pick it up and gulp it down like it was nothing more than a jelly shot!

The ssypno were big. Really, really big. Like, forty-five foot long and two and a half foot wide; big. So, when Meesha placed her 'plate' down and it had formerly held a full-grown animal, Kevin had forgotten about his own trauma on a plate.

"You eating those?" She asked quietly, pointing a large, clawed digit below his chin at his untouched plate. It had been several minutes since they sat down and his own 'meal' was untouched.

Kevin looked down at the five squidgits that were curled up on his plate. Space rodents or livestock, thankfully they were dead. The human admitted that he had no intention of attempting to swallow them despite the fact that they had been arranged artfully around the plate before a squiggle of some sort of light green sauce had been drizzled over them to give them 'flair' as Meesha put it. It reminded him of a fancy restaurant from back home.

"Weirdly, I'm not hungry. Had a big breakfast." The man mumbled a lie, once again shell shocked at the culture clash he got from being brought into ssypno territories.

She reached over, plucking one of the creatures from the plate, wiped it against the sauce and plopped it straight into her waiting maw.

"Weird, I didn't think you had much more than one of those fruit things?" She pointed out, mouth full and talking around it.

"Yeah, something like that." Kevin replied idly as he watched the mouse- pig-chinchilla thing barely make a bump in her gullet as descended to its doom. He realised that the ssypno never chewed their food. their mouth full of fangs were just there to hold prey.

"Whatever." The gulp that followed had a nonchalant air to it. No different than someone snacking on some Doritos.

Kevin was actually pretty damn hungry now, but in an effort to improve his relations with his 'guardian' Meesha, he had made a point to have lunch with her. Something he hadn't done before and wondered if he should do again. He frowned at the interesting display as he watched the second creature suddenly disappear and a similar small bulge begin the same journey as the first.

Was it a trick of his eyes, or was that lump wiggling? Meesha caught Kevin staring.

"If you wanted to watch... you could have just asked..." She murmured with a sudden smirk and a sultry wink. Kevin's eyes bugged out of his head.

"That's not, I mean, it's not like that!" He stammered, panicking that he'd just ruined the diplomatic opportunity that he had been afforded, his hands came up defensively, holding them up in innocence. She was watching him as if she had just realised what she was doing was appreciated, completely missing the fact the display merely held the human's attention like a road accident. Dark curiosity held her gaze.

The unconvinced 'uh huh' did little to calm Kevin as Meesha repeated the action of before. Plucking a squidgit, only this time using its tail to dangle it over her open mouth, before lowering it slowly. All the while she maintained eye contact with him, staring down at him over her snout. It didn't matter they were two different species, the heat that rose up the back of his neck agreed with the 'subtle' hints she was giving him. His body didn't care she was making a show of eating things; he was receiving signals!

Without a word, the fourth and fifth space-mouse was plucked up, all the while, she was staring into his soul.

She was slower this time. Her forked tongue reached out towards it and mimicked a ssypno by wrapping around the creature's blubbery middle, before a rapid yank drew it into the waiting maw.

Without swallowing, she closed her eyes and quietly moaned in front of the stunned human. She 'savoured' the small rodent, rolling it around her mouth, suckling at it loudly, whilst reaching to cover his hand with hers, capturing it quite easily as her limb dwarfed his.

Her groans of pleasure continued, punctuated with squeezes to his hostage wrist. Kevin's red face deepened in shade.

Eventually she swallowed, noisily.

The man's eyes were glued to the final lump as it too, began the journey down, past the defined pecs of her chest. She got his attention by drawing her free hand to trail a finger down the centre of her chest, following it until the lump disappeared although her hand still tracked it before it too slipped beneath the table.

"If I'd known you were into food play, I would have demanded you as my ward weeks ago." Meesha announced with a grin, while she leaned forwards, resting her head in her hands and her tongue flicked out, startling the human.

Kevin's stomach chose this moment to growl in protest. Meesha's grin was downright predatory.

"My, my, Kevin.. we need to go back to mine for something to eat..." She promised, standing rapidly and, without letting go of his wrist, pulling him along with her with ease. The ssypno strength once more rendering his own no match for hers.

"Plus, I'm still famished... if I don't eat something soon, I might end up eating you.." She whispered with a wink backwards and a brief raise of the ridge above her eyes.

"You... you couldn't actually do that right?" Kevin asked, finding his voice again.

"Nah, we can only just about eat something as large as ourselves." She replied.

Kevin looked up at her back with wide panicked eyes. The ssypno were big... and he was smaller than the damn deer!

[allwormdiet]

Gestation 1.5

I wonder if Taylor's night is gonna get any better

This is actually a really good passage for the building tension. Lung's not gonna kill our protagonist in the fifth chapter of the novel but she doesn't know that. She can see her options narrowing down and her chances getting slimmer, she doesn't know there's like, a million plus words more to her story. This could be it, and this really sells it.

Okay actually I'm gonna circle back to something I totally missed in 1.4, which is the mild comedy in Taylor hacking multiple EpiPens in her kit as a teenager with, I'm gonna guess a modest allowance? You can tell this was written by someone who hasn't had to put up with US healthcare, that's minimum like $600 bucks of medicine, and frankly I don't think it's going to be any cheaper when the predominant pharmaceutical company is run by a Nazi.

Sweet of her dad, and also I cannot imagine facing down a hitter like Lung with nothing but a can of pepper spray, Jesus Christ that's stressful. This never comes up in the retellings, Taylor has cast-iron balls to pull this stunt.

Kudos on this, it's such a cool descriptor, and again: huge props to Taylor for staring this down and not running like hell.

Side note, either Lung's eyes are a magnet for violence or else Taylor is compelled to target the eyes. Maybe both. See if it keeps happening with either of them I guess.

Something something Jurassic Park reference, also do we need the reminder that he has an accent

YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH IT'S THE CAVALRY BABY

Listen I know I'm a little spoiled here and the bias is showing but I already love these kids, look at em! They decided to swing at Lung for the sake of the girl who'd already pried him off their backs, they didn't need to save her but they did. I can't wait for them all to break my heart one way or another, it's gonna rule.

Grue is real as fuck for his costume, it's so cool.

Also I desperately want to know what the conversation was like for the Undersiders to decide "yeah fuck it let's put up our dukes against the head of the ABB." Who voted in favor of that?

The "but yeah" really sells the underlying youth of the character, btw. Gonna go out on a limb and guess there's a lot of kids who feel like they need to hold themselves like adults (and then don't really know how) in this story.

Squad squad squad squad

Quick and dirty introduction to the team, good enough start as anything, also lmao at Taylor just standing there with jelly legs trying to process this and completely unable to make words happen. Poor girl

"Certainly least" my ass, kid's got style.

Can Tattletale actually stop herself from talking? Not like in a power sense I mean in a needing to be smart way. I assume she can but it's not out of the question that she just cannot put a lid on it. I've known people like that.

Also an effortless display of trust and teamwork. Tattletale says boogie and Bitch is on it immediately.

So the fox parallels just start immediately, okay. Everyone always compares her to a fox, or makes her fursona a fox, or describes a vulpine grin, and I figured that was drawing on the text but I didn't think it came up literally in the first chapter she appears.

There's a couple different emotions I feel at this last paragraph. Per usual I feel bad for Taylor because this truly just has not been her night, she gets like half a W against fucking Lung but gets scared half to death, saved by villains, and then mistaken for a villain as well. Awful way to start a career.

On the other hand, Taylor, honey, you're terrifying and used a bunch of venomous and painful insects in order to break up a gang meeting, you're in all blacks and grays with big ol yellow eyes, your entire aesthetic screams villain, this is at least partly your own fault.

On the third hand, knowing full well how important the Undersiders are gonna be, and how feared Taylor is gonna be as a future villain, it's not hard to look at this like. Well what's so bad about them being villains, and what's so bad about being mistaken for one. Obviously it's a matter of morality and perspective and stuff like that, Taylor seems to only now be dipping her toes into moral flexibility, but the gift/curse of future knowledge means there's something, I dunno, a little sweet about this encounter.

Current Thoughts

Tired. Dragging my hands down my face rn. Last one for tonight.

This was a cool sequence. Rough introduction to the Docks and ABB aside, the fight between Lung and Taylor was super cool, a great feeling of the momentum shifting between the two as Taylor's bugs stop being able to keep up with the fire, the desperate play with the pepper spray, and being just. Fully backed into a corner until she's saved by the cavalry. If this is how the fight scenes keep going for this series then I think I'm in for a fun ride.

Also yaaaaaaaaay the team has been introduced, I can't wait to find out how much of the perception of them I've gotten through fanworks and my own half-baked osmosis is going to contrast with their canon personalities. Grue being all serious and Tattletale being a smirking know-it-all literally described as fox-like feel like solid indicators, if nothing else.

Next chapters tomorrow. It's Armsmaster right after, right? See what he's like.

[mime-the]

Yeah it’s fanfic Saturday, I wrote a chapter one for the silly prologue thing I made the other day. Here you go for those interested…

Pure Vanilla Cookie woke up with a start, his heart pounding. Another nightmare, he thought. He listened to the soft song of one of the faerie kingdom’s many birds, bringing himself to the present moment, giving his spinning mind the time to ground itself as well. Tick… Tick… He listened to the ambient ticking of the clock. Just a nightmare. Nothing real, Pure Vanilla Cookie reminded himself.

Plenty of horrible dreams had visited him along his long life, but none quite so violent and rage-fueled as the ones that came after White Lily Cookie had sealed the Beast of Deceit right back into his prison. He knew this was no coincidence, but he had no solution... Pure Vanilla Cookie opened his eyes slightly, reaching toward his staff and sliding off his bed.

The Faeries had insisted on giving the party their own rooms, and Pure Vanilla Cookie had noticed the lilies they had decorated the room with, alongside a few other flowers. The room itself was quite spacious, a lavishly adorned shelf of books on the opposite side to silver cabinets which he had been told had extra clothes, would he need them during their stay. A mirror laid on the wall next to the cabinets, the rim had small little patterns carved around it. Patterns which the Faeries just loved to etch into many of the things they built.

There was a desk near one of the windows, holding a lamp and writing utensils. It was often a comfortably warm spot in the room, where Pure Vanilla Cookie often found himself sitting to watch the birds outside and drink tea whilst thinking about the council and his friends. His bed was adorned with soft cream colored fabrics, a splash of blue flowery patterns here or there among them. The bed sheets were white, stripes methodically sewn into it like chocolate drizzle. He was grateful for how comfortable the bed was, but despite his attempts it never granted him a fulfilling night’s rest.

He walked to the mirror, fixing his hair and getting dressed for the day in his typical attire, then folded his pajamas and fixed the bed. He moved soundlessly to the window, taking in the humbly peaceful sight of the Faerie Kingdom. Pure Vanilla Cookie was glad to have helped bring the calm and stop the chaos Shadow Milk Cookie had sewn right through it.

He frowned… he hadn’t really done all that much, did he? It was White Lily Cookie’s wise thinking that had actually resolved all this. He’d just gotten strung up and held hostage. Pure Vanilla Cookie held his hand up to his head, it’s too early to start thinking such thoughts. He should at least get something to fill his stomach for the time being. The ever-present feeling of being watched only grew stronger as he made his way to the door.

He walked out through the elegant silver halls, saying his hellos and good mornings to the stray Faerie here or there, reminding himself to be thankful of their hospitality. Pure Vanilla Cookie made his way to the cafe which he had been introduced to as soon as the party had decided they’d be staying here until word got back from the other members council. He noticed Gingerbrave and his friends already there, and it didn’t take long for them to notice him too.

“Pure Vanilla Cookie! Come here! You HAVE to try these jellies, they’re sooo good,” Gingerbrave shouted, before stuffing his face once more. Pure Vanilla Cookie couldn’t help but smile as he walked closer. He sat down on one of the metal chairs they had set on the outdoor tables, three little cookies talking to each other. “Gingerbrave, I think you should slow down…! We don’t want you to get sick,” mumbled Strawberry Cookie, watching her friend with a worried expression. Pure Vanilla Cookie let out a little laugh, “You’re enjoying your stay here by the looks of it.”

“Yes! The Faeries really know their stuff when it comes to the food,” Gingerbrave commented, between mouthfuls of food. Pure Vanilla Cookie observed what they were eating. An assortment of jellies, varying in size and color and a few little berries to accompany them. Wizard Cookie piped up, noticing Pure Vanilla Cookie’s interest, “They said these jellies were mixed with Honey, giving them their gold color. We’ve had a few before back at the feasts but I never got to see them for too long… ahem.” He then motioned to Gingerbrave, which was now lying on the table, face flat against the wood, lightly grumbling.

Strawberry Cookie had picked out a berry, and frowned at him. Pure Vanilla Cookie was glad the kids were having a better time than he was here. He himself picked up one of the smaller jellies, never having much of an appetite. “How have the Faeries been to you?” He questioned, before taking a few polite bites. “They’ve been really nice! One of them has taken it upon themselves to teach us some more stories, separate from the Beasts,” Strawberry Cookie told him, now patting her friend on the back as he visibly regretted his decision.

Wizard cookie lit up at the mention, nodding vigorously, “Oh yes! It’s very interesting to learn the history of the Faeries. They hold Elder Faerie Cookie and White Lily Cookie to very high regard in their stories.” Pure Vanilla Cookie chuckled, “I’m very happy to know that you’re all feeling as welcome as me.” The little group talked for a while longer, sharing laughs and stories here and there. Pure Vanilla Cookie then nodded to the young cookies, having eaten his awkwardly small fill, “Well, you should make sure Gingerbrave makes it home to his room without too much of an issue. I am in the mood to go feed the birds. Have a good day, you three!”

“Goodbye Pure Vanilla Cookie!” called Strawberry Cookie as he left, turning back to talk to Wizard Cookie. Pure Vanilla Cookie walked down the paths of the Faerie Kingdom, the ones he’d chosen to familiarize himself with. It was now, away from his friends, that he felt that glare boring into every part of his dough. He tried to ignore it but the thought always gnawed away in his mind.

Eventually he’d made his way to the little clearing he had found whilst walking through the kingdom, a calm little place where birds curiously flew to peck at the floor and pick up branches. Pure Vanilla Cookie sat down on the silky grass, carefully placing his staff on the ground next to him. “It’s a wonderful day… is it not?” he thought out loud, looking at his staff as if it’d respond. It just gave him a silent look before closing its eye and resting.

Pure Vanilla Cookie sat there, thinking to himself for a few moments before taking out the bag of seed he had brought with him and throwing some in an arc around him. He watches as a few yeast birds fly down curiously and begin pecking at the birdseed. These little birds were the main inhabitants of the Faerie Kingdom, a combination of the blue birds he was used to seeing back in his own kingdom and the yeast spores that wandered the forest. He watched them gladly, holding his hand out to let one land on it. Pure Vanilla Cookie held his hand there as one of the inquisitive younger ones landed on it, and he gave it a few little scratches.

Just as he watched the little bird fly off happily, he heard an all too familiar voice call out from within him, laced with pure fury “You fool.”

[lavendernlilac]

I'm having some strawberry lemonade thoughts. They go like this:

Grian has to go reluctantly visit family because (insert major event that Pearl and Jimmy unintentionally guilt tripped him into attending here). Grian knows that his hyper-religious family will probably have wards, and he hasn't gotten any protective charms or counter-wards for Scar yet, so Scar can't go with him.

So for the week-ish that Grian is gone, Scar holds down the fort at the office and is waiting with Grian’s favorite take-out (his cooking is getting better, okay! This just isn't the time for experiments) When Grian comes home.

He greets him with hugs and kisses, but nothing more yet. Scar let's Grian eat while he vents about his family.

But towards the end of Grian venting, he notices something. Scar isn't quite as...vibrant as he was when Grian left. There are bags under his eyes, and his smile is tired. So he asks Scar if he's okay.

After much deflection and Grian pushing the question, Scar finally tells him what's wrong.

Scar hasn't, um. "Eaten" for a week.

They never talked about exclusivity, and Grian had assumed that Scar would have found "sustenance" while he was gone. But Scar knew from the moment he first kissed Grian that he didn't want anyone else.

Scar urges Grian to rest, insisting he can wait until tomorrow, but Grian's having none of it. He drags Scar to the bedroom and that have the most tooth-rotting sweet and gentle sex ever. Grian focuses on taking care of Scar and rides him slow and steady.

By the end, Scar feels much better and Grian is exhausted, so they fall asleep.

In the morning once Grian feels fresh again, they go several more rounds. Because Scar is still starving 😉

I’m taking your thoughts and eating them rn /pos

building off of them:

I think the event that grian specifically goes to is some small family reunion. pearl and jimmy don’t want to go by themselves, and jimmy ends up being the one who gets grian to cave and come with them

scar is extremely pouty about it when grian tells him he can’t come along because of wards and the last thing grian wants is for scar to come with him and get hurt. or worse. obviously scar is not happy about this because he doesn’t want grian to have to go alone (and maybe because he wants to get a chance to punch grian’s dad but that’s a whole other thing)

so grian is home for a week and he hates it. he’s miserable the entire time. he’s uncomfortable and trying to avoid his father. he spends two days at his childhood home (he refuses to go into the study), and then on the third day, his siblings and father all pile into one car to drive up north for the actual reunion the following day

and scar texts him every day. scar is staying in his apartment while he’s gone, grian gets pictures of his cats and jellie (because ofc scar brought her), and he gives updates on the happenings at the lab and stuff. for each night, the two of them call until grian goes to sleep. scar checks in on him a lot to ask how he’s doing, and grian doesn’t want scar worrying about him so he says he’s okay, counting the days until he’s home again

and it goes mostly alright, grian is uncomfortable and wishes more than anything to be home, snuggling with his boyfriend. but it’s alright!

up until the actual reunion. that’s… where it really goes downhill. grian is the black sheep of the family, and he’s reminded of that. there’s probably some situation; someone says something and grian’s been so wound up that it tips him over and he cracks. he makes a scene before excusing himself. he calls scar and the flood gates open, and he’s not okay. scar has never wished so badly that he could teleport, or even that he could overpower wards. pearl keeps him company after, and it’s tense but… they have a long overdue conversation

when grian calls scar that night, scar does all of the talking. he rambles about the day; something funny mumbo did when he came by the office, or how cute jellie and maui were when they were curled up together. scar talks about his recent cooking attempt (“I didn’t burn it this time! It was actually edible too :D though you’ll have to be the judge when you get back, birdie.”) grian ends up falling asleep on the phone with him, his gentle breaths coming through the speaker, and scar’s heart squeezes

(maybe… maybe scar uses his powers to dream walk, entering grian’s dream. it’s not a lot, but it gives scar a small chance to hold him and give him some kind of comfort)

the next few days go by in a blur, and grian is walking through his apartment door, exhausted. scar’s got comfort food on table, and grian practically falls into his arms, clinging to him. scar buries his face into grian’s hair and grian tells scar he missed him. they stand in the entrance for a few minutes together, holding each other and exchanging a few kisses, until scar gently nudges them toward the kitchen to eat. I think grian has a strict “no eating on the couch” rule, but he breaks it this time, the two of them sitting on the couch in the living room and eating

scar lets grian talk about everything, patient and attentive with him. but during it all… grian sees how unkempt scar looks, with his eyebags and tired smile. his usual energy is missing, that extra spark gone. naturally it concerns grian and he presses and presses. scar doesn’t want to take the focus away from grian but grian is so adamant that scar tells him what’s wrong

so scar sighs and tells him he’s low on energy, not having uh, fed, while grian was away and—

“you… didn’t feed? scar you need to do that to live, why didn’t you—”

“I know, I-I know! but I could survive a week without you and be just fine!”

“you look really tired.”

“ah… that’s just because I was doing so much! it’s fine g, really.”

“why didn’t you just find someone else to, y’know.”

“I don’t want anyone who isn’t you.”

grian is flustered by this of course, before he’s Determined and dragging scar to his room. and scar just wants grian to rest because he’s had a hard week and this is exactly why he didn’t want to tell grian but his pesky researcher is just too perceptive sometimes

the sex is very gentle and incredibly sweet. grian is the one to lead them along for a bit, crawling into scar’s lap and undressing them both as they kiss. he doesn’t let scar do much because grian wants to take care of him. the most he lets scar do is prep him (he missed the feeling of scar’s hands on him, he missed a lot about scar). and for once it’s grian talking, as he rides scar, keeping each roll of his hips slow but at an angle that scar is deep inside him

grian tells scar how much he missed him, how he thought about him the whole time he was away, how much grian loves him because he feels like he doesn’t say it enough. he covers scar’s face in kisses, brushes his fingers through his hair very tenderly. it doesn’t take scar long to come apart, head buried into the crook of grian’s neck as he holds his hips in place. scar takes a moment to breathe before he’s pushing grian into the sheets, returning the favor

he knows grian won’t last much longer, so scar ruts into him, wrapping him in an embrace and reminding grian of how much he’s loved

they skip out on the bath this time, both tired and clingy. grian falls asleep on scar’s chest, and scar follows soon after. in the morning, they don’t even get the chance to leave the bed before scar is pulling grian into a needy kiss, and grian knows he’s in for it. he’s a trembly, overstimulated mess by the end of it (scar’s aphrodisiac is definitely used to help grian keep up with him, but even in the end, grian is left a wreck) they cuddle in the bathtub and scar is beaming with energy again <3

[freshmangojuice]

Long after Lister and the Cat are gone, and Rimmer has shut himself down, Kryten is left alone again. Going senile like Holly and suffering with android dementia, he wanders Red Dwarf still trying to keep the ship in order.

Warning: very sad oneshot

Grade 2 dust on the G deck pipes again. Kryten flapped his microfiber dusting cloth and took care of the unsightly dust that had settled on the oxygen pipes that run along the corridor. Such details were important. Five minutes later— or was it ten? He’d have to recalibrate his internal clock. His cloth was now significantly blackened, he would have to make his way to the laundry for it to join the next load. It was just two decks down. All he had to do was get to the Xpress Lift at the end of the corridor and head down. It couldn’t be simpler. Big jerky steps took him along the guiding yellow line on the floor that led to the lift.

He was following the yellow line. Definitely the yellow line. Just like Dorothy. It was patchy in places and crossed over the green and red lines in several places. It was a right mess. They were meant to be directional, somebody was going to get lost if they tried following these to get to where they’re trying to be. Those lines need to be repainted. The skutters should be able to take care of that. Kryten stopped his walk to quickly program a reminder for himself to organise the repainting.

Kryten had always related to the tin man, but the scarecrow in need of a brain was who he felt more like these days. He wasn’t sure why, isn’t this how things have always been? That was a 20th century film. What was it called again? He wondered why he even had the information on disk. Who would have shown it to him?

Humming the tune to ‘follow the yellow brick road’ as he carefully stepped on the patchy and wonky yellow line, what Kryten wasn’t aware of in that moment, was that he had painted those wonky lines 10 days ago.

His mind was confused. He forgot things, he got lost and turned around, things that should be familiar sometimes scared him. He hadn’t always been like this. 4 and a half million years ago he was top of the range exquisite technology. His head was packed with RAM and memory far larger than any mechanoid before. Now his components were failing him. He’d long-since run out of spare parts, with no materials to replace them. Maybe it was one too many corrupt files he’d had to scrub from his harddrive. Maybe it was a scorched circuit somewhere, or a screw loose. Maybe it was because he was so, so old. His system computer hadn’t updated his status in a very long time, he wasn’t aware of what was wrong, so that meant that nothing was wrong.

The Xpress Lift parted its doors and Kryten took his robotic jerky steps inside.

‘Where to?’ asked the lift.

Kryten stood there for a few moments, calculating and examining, scanning his surroundings for clues. He’d already forgotten about heading to the laundry, even with the dirty cloth still in his hand.

"Do excuse me," he said politely to the lift, "I seem to have taken a wrong turn. I will not be needing your services right this moment," and he stepped back out of the lift. He looked at the thick, flat, intertwining breadths of colour on the floor. It looked like a muddled bag of jelly snakes all wrapped around each other, and the longer he looked at them the more muddled they became. Kryten shook his head to recalibrate his eyes. He could’ve sworn he’d seen the snakes wriggling.

There were toilets further up the corridor, and Kryten ignored the jelly snake lines as he went back the way he came to get to them.

These toilets were never dirty, never clogged. It was as if nobody ever used them. That can’t be. There had to be a crew using them every day.

Hold on. 

Where was the crew? 

Kryten’s internal cooling fans started to spin faster. 

The ship had a crew, it did. He remembered Miss Anne. She had big black hair, it got everywhere, he was always cleaning it up. But he hadn’t seen her or her hair for a long time. Hadn’t she died? Hadn’t they all died?

The noise of the fans spinning as he overheated buzzed through his body.

Yes, yes. She had died. She was on the Nova 5. They had crashed and the humans had died. Then he was alone. He’s still alone. How long had he been alone?

No, no. He was a mechanoid. He wasn’t supposed to feel alone, he wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

So why did he?

He couldn’t remember breaking his programming, nor could he remember who it was that helped him do it. The name of the ship he was on, and had been on for over a million years eluded him. The only companions he knew of now were the last remaining skutters. The only voices he heard were automated. There was nothing left to remind him of how much it meant to him to be a person. There was no one to look after, no one to joke with. Kryten had lost his friends and lost himself long ago.

[skelnexswriting]

Flowers Pt.2

➪ | Pairing: | Ghost x reader

➪ | Warnings: | Fluff, Fem! reader, 3rd person POV,”Y/n” used, medic reader, soft ghost.

➪ | Summary: | Maybe flowers were Ghost’s thing after all. Because It certainly worked to capture the girl of his dreams.

➪ | A/n: | Sorry for the wait of pt. 2, i know a few were asking for it. So here it is!! Enjoy!

Part 1

--

“-Simon Riley”

Y/n couldn't help but just stare at the writing.

Was this some type of prank? The Simon 'Ghost' Riley. The name on the little white card just didn't seem real. Ghost seemed like anything but romantic.

Ghost wasn't known to be sweet or kind. He was harsh and strict. Ghost was someone that seemed like he wasn't capable of loving others. But maybe everyone was wrong.

Just like flowers were, maybe Ghost too was misunderstood. Now that Y/n recalls every interaction with him, he had been nothing but kind. Although he never said much, he always thanked Y/n for patching him up after a rough mission.

Ghost was also easier on Y/n compared to the others on the task force. It was as though that was his way of showing his feelings. Showing that he cared.

But the only way Y/n could truly know, is to confront Ghost himself...That was easier said than done. Y/n couldn't help but get nervous around him. Everyone did.

For y/n it was a different reason. She wasn't scared of him. Intimidated. Yes. But scared? No. She always found him intriguing. Like a mystery that had yet to be solved.

...

As Y/n made her way to Ghost's room, she couldn't help the butterflies she felt. Sure she had always had a small crush on the solider, but just the thought of him sending her flowers was enough to make her blush.

Knocking on the door, Y/n could hear some slight rustling from inside. Soon enough, ghost opened the door saying "what" harsher than he intended to.

"Hey Ghost! I was um..just wondering if you left this note." Y/n handed Ghost the note. Ghost already knew why y/n had came, even before she told him the reason.

Of course it was him that left the note..but how could he just tell her that. Ghost was finding it hard to find the words, continuing to stare at the card in his hand as if it'd tell him what to say.

Y/n could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. His eyes gave off more emotion than his body did. She could see the glint of nervousness that shined in his eyes.

"Hey, it's alright if it wasn't you. Might have been a prank or something." Y/n reassured him, getting ready to just turn around and forget this ever happened.

But before she could, his hand gently grabbed her wrist pulling her closer. Ghost took a breath before saying, “No wait. It..It was me.”

Ghost saw how Y/n was surprised. Now it was Y/n’s turn to have the cogs turn in her head. “Wha- Ghost..Why didn’t you just tell me, I mean why all the flowers? Not that i didn’t like them or anything-”

“Well I always hear you talking about flowers and how they are much more than just beauty.” Ghost cuts off her rambling.

“And well..they reminded me of you. You are so much more than just your beauty.”

Y/n was crumbling with every word. If he said anymore, she’d probably turn into a puddle of jelly. She didn’t know how he could get more romantic.

“I’m not the best with words so I thought that was the best way.”

Ghost looked everywhere but her eyes. Afraid he might find a hint of disgust or rejection in them. But he was shocked when he felt his mask lift past his lips.

Y/n wasn’t really focusing on the words that came out of his mouth, but rather the part of the mask that was covering his lips. Ghost was invading her senses. Drawing her closer like a magnet.

Soon Y/n found herself grabbing the edge of the mask, lifting it just enough to expose his lips. Even when she wanted nothing more than to tear off his mask and admire him, she would always respect his wishes.

Ghost exposed lips were soon covered again..but this time with her lips. The intoxicating feeling of y/n kissing him invaded his mind.

When Y/n went to pull away, he found himself chasing after her lips. He never wanted it to end. He craved for her touch.

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when she began walking away. But when she said, “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you around lieutenant.” He knew this wouldn’t be the end of whatever relationship was blossoming

…

And it wasn’t the end. On their time off, they went on dates. Getting to know each other outside of the field. It was then that they could forget about all the horrors they see.

Ghost and Y/n were perfect together. They understood each other. Y/n knew that Ghost was misunderstood. And Ghost knew that y/n was much more than just beauty.

Soon the team noticed the change between the two. How Ghost would use his jokes to get a laugh out of y/n. Or the way Ghost visited the hospital wing more often.

They also noticed how y/n would stick around Ghost more. And how she would scold him more for getting hurt on missions.

Many people would miss these small things, but the task force saw right through them. Once their suspicions were confirmed, finding one of ghost mask in y/n’s room…Soap begrudgingly handed Gaz the 20 bucks he won.

In their own way, Ghost and Y/n were like flowers themselves. Waiting for the perfect time to blossom. And when they did, something beautiful came from it.

[ladyevol]

And here it is! My first fic for my Hotguy Must Die au. I'm posting some of it here, but for those who want to read everything, you can find the fic in AO3. Going forward, I plan on writing one shot fics for this AU exploring the characters and the world building in general since this is my version of what Hotguy might look like. Let me know who you'd like to see explored in future installments. You can check out the rest here

____________________________________

Wolfbane

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Ships: Scar X Grian (very minor in this one, you can definitely see them as platonic), Pearl X Original Character

Tags: Character death, minor character death, Angst, werewolves, Abusive relationships (not between any of the main characters)

The first thing that the man felt after what appeared to be infinite void was warmth. It touched his skin faintly at first, however, the more stationary he remained, the more determined it became to bring him back to the world of the living. Then, he felt the dirt beneath him, reminding him that he was no longer falling in nothingness for all of eternity. Next, there was the sound of birds in the distance, the wind in his ears and his chest and finally the feeling of something soft and familiar pressing against his cheek. The man finally opened his eyes.

There was a time when he would have been much more desperate to wake up, to escape nothing and return to the world of the living, often accompanied by gasps, quick movement and eyes looking to the sides. Now though, all he felt as he came back was tired. The darkness felt almost welcoming, as if his moments inside it were the only time he could truly rest. Of course, those thoughts were nothing but wishful thinking. Even if he did lay there forever, death would eventually find him again and it was never kind.

This time death came in the form of his neighbor, as it often did. What it wasn't normally, however, was Pearl. She, despite being one of the most capable people he knew, was also one of his neighbors who had given him the least of a bad time. Pearl Moon was once a hunter, one of the guards who were tasked with protecting the city from the monsters and dangers that spawned with the night by tracking them down and destroying, however, an unfortunate encounter with a werewolf left to her forever tarnished, even if she was the winner by the end. The woman, now contaminated with lycanthrope, was ‘asked’ to retire by her supervisors, leading her to eventually moving into the complex and taking a job as a mailwoman, the same role he met her as and that she continued to enact in the many years they had been friends, so the idea that Pearl would just forget to take her medicine that kept her hunger under control was difficult to believe. Yet, it was her claws that had torn through his torso the previous night, her teeth that gnashed his bones and her mutated fingers that pulled his heart from his chest in his final moments of consciousness. He really didn't want to think what she had done with the rest of his body after his death.

Scar rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times to see a familiar gray and white cat looking down at him. Her sight always managed to make his situation feel at least a little bit better. “Hello there.” He said softly and reached to scratch the back of her ear and the cat purred in return, tail curling to let her glee be known. “Always on time, aren't you, Jellie?”

Six in the morning, that was when Scar awoke after every death and around the same place, the hole of Boatem, located in the ruins of an old village in the woods not too far from the city that had burned down twenty something years prior and left the area as a graveyard for its previous residences. The fire had consumed all plant life and since nothing had managed to grow there. Even people had reported to feel uneasy and even sick from being there for too long, so most tried to avoid it. Scar didn't have a choice. Death would always find him and he would always wake up the next day right there. He had grown as certain of it as he was that the sun would rise again the following morning.

“At least it isn't raining this time, right?” He spoke to Jellie who replied with a meow before he looked at the clothes and wheelchair next to the cat. “I'm hoping that you brought some better clothes for me this time, Jellie.” She meowed as he slipped it on, “yeah, yeah, I know, I know, making me wheel around in False's dress was funny and I did slay with it,” his voice became more high pitched and he laughed. “But she wasn't too happy that I had her dress. You'll make people think I'm a creep or something who goes around stealing the clothes of his friends. I would like to be able to at least keep my friendships, please.” He finished with the oversized gray hoodie he recognized as his roommate's, Cub, back from when he was in college and he was pretty sure the black sweatpants were his as well. He didn't know why Jellie wouldn't just bring him his own clothes, but he could at least explain why he was wearing his roommates clothes pretty easily. All of his other clothes were washing and Cub didn't actually care, so that was that.

The brunette man sat on his chair, buckled his belt and began rolling away on the dirt with the cat laying on his lap.

It took Scar thirty minutes to return to the city, and from there, another hour and a half to get inside his complex. The city was buzzing with life as always, none the wiser that their main hero and vigilante, Hotguy, had met yet another gruesome end the previous night. There was a time when it drove him mad that no one could remember his demise. All of his pain and suffering, all his blood spilled and tears and broken bones and he couldn't get an ounce of comfort or relief anything, any sort of response other than curiosity as to why Scar had disappeared all of a sudden or whatever their minds told them that had happened. Now though he was almost glad that was the case. It was best if he just suffered alone. He was used to it anyway. Even physical evidence of his deaths seemed to get mysteriously corrupted. Photos, videos, nothing worked. It was clear to him that whatever kept bringing him back didn't want to be seen. It was almost a shame that Hotguy wholeheartedly disagreed with the idea.

His smile was everywhere, from posters to billboards to shirts worn by the youth. They all knew hotguy, the hero who would die for the safety if he had to and he would. Over and over again, regardless if he wanted to or not, so, might as well make the best out of it. Death would always come after him, but maybe he could use that as an opportunity to prevent it from coming for someone else. Seeing the tears of joy of a mother being reunited with her son after all hope was lost or the joy of a child holding their kitty thought to be lost almost made it all worth it. It was at least enough to make him keep going.

Scar pushed the door of the building open and was immediately met with the smell of mold, dust and different types of food being prepared in the nearby apartments above him. His place wasn't anything fancy, in fact, quite the opposite. Some might think the building to be old and in extreme need of renovations, but to Scar it only gave it personality and made it one of the few affordable places in the city for a lesser known architect still hoping to make a name for himself with a working elevator. Scar pushed the button and waited for the doors to open before rolling inside. After selecting his floor, he waited for the door to shut, only for it to be interrupted by an arm being shoved between the doors just before they met. “WAIT!”

“Huh?” Scar blinked as the metal retreated to reveal a shorter man with pale skin and dirty blonde hair. The glasses around his black eyes made it seem considerably smaller than they actually were, like dots on a canvas and the scarf around his neck hid away his mouth and part of his nose. The rest of his body was covered by a similarly colored sweater and gray leggings. Grian strolled inside without another world and stood next to Scar after making sure that the man had indeed clicked the right button to their floor. “Oh, hey G. How are ya?”

As soon as the doors were shut, Grian replied by flicking Scar's forehead who immediately rubbed the area, less so due to the pain and more so from instinct. “What was that for?!”

“What the hell was the bright idea, huh?! Leaving me all alone with a WEREWOLF?! Scar, she could have killed me!”

He knew. She nearly did. They had underestimated Pearl's intelligence while fully transformed. A hunter was a hunter, even as a wolf like monster unable to speak or recognize those around her. She tricked them into thinking that they had the upper hand, only to use the opening to attack the one of the two of them she thought to be weaker, smaller. Scar refused to let any harm come to his partner, even if that meant jumping in front of her jaws. The rest he would rather forget. “Right, right, sorry, I just really needed to use the bathroom all of a sudden, haha.” Scar forced a laugh and rubbed the back of his head.

Grian took a deep breath. “You can't trick me, Scar. I know you just got scared and ran away. You always do this! Honestly, what would people think if they learned that their greatest hero, the only one in the city that isn't a dog for the government, is a fraud?! A coward that runs away when things get too rough! You are meant to be a symbol of hope, Scar!” Grian grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks while staring into his green eyes. “Act like it!”

Scar gently moved his hands to grab Grian's wrists gently and pull them away. The younger man let him. “Sorry, G. Really, I just- can't help it.” He sighed, “but hey, at least Hotguy can always count on his aMAYzing sidekick to clean up the mess, huh?”

Grian exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, “right. The thing is, Cuteguy isn't nearly as popular as Hotguy now, is he? People don't like Watchers, Scar. You know what they do like? Underdog's story, like a regular guy that somehow manages to defeat all the monsters the hunters were supposed to keep us safe from and the weirdos that keep appearing every day.”

“Well, I'm not a complete regular Joe, G. You know that.”

“Right, you have Vex blood in you from,” he began counting on his fingers, “four generations ago?”

“Three, actually.”

“Wow, amazing. You can use your magic to aim really well and walk for a limited amount of time.”

“Ouch.”

“C'mon, Scar. You know what I mean! You're the image of everything everyone in this city wants to be. You're their hero. You need to start acting like it.”

Scar looked down. Grian was right. He needed to do better. Be better. Everyone was counting on him. It was just so difficult to do it most days, when he knew that eventually the pain would come again, he would die in a horrific way and no one would even remember. He felt so isolated most of the time, distant like there was a wall separating him and the rest of the world. He couldn't even remember a time when it wasn't there. “Sorry Grian.” He said finally, “you're right. I just got scared.” Scar was always. So. Scared.

Grian looked at him for a moment before his shoulders sagged and his gaze softened. “It's fine. Whatever. It's not like I got hurt in the end. Apparently, just after you left, Pearl found this sack of meat that she ate for long enough for me to bring her down and lock her.”

Ah. So that was what he saw his body as this time. A literal sack of meat. “Y-yeah, pretty lucky. Did she get hurt? Did the police?”

“No, I left with her before the guards arrived. And the hunters. Like I said, after eating she was considerably more amiable. Werewolves are not brainless. They are just hungry.

The more Grian spoke, the sicker Scar felt. “Ok, and did you manage to talk to her after she transformed back? Is her boyfriend ok?”

“Yeah. Apparently the worst thing that happened was her standing him up since they were supposed to have a date. I don't think she told him what happened. I'm not even sure he knows what she is.” Grian gently scratched Jellie's ear. She purred.

“So there were no casualties.”

“No. Only a butcher shop that got invaded and a lot of meat that was stolen. Compared to our other jobs, it was pretty clean actually.” It certainly didn't feel clean. The door opened and Grian walked out, holding the door for Scar long enough for him to roll out. “Listen, you should at least talk to her sometime, ok? Comforting people is your expertise, not mine. It's part of the reason why people love you.”

“Silver tongue Scar, that's what they call me.” The brunette smiled slightly, “should I go as, you know.” He tilted his head to his door slightly.

“That's for you to decide. But whatever you do, do it quickly. Also, you really gotta steal people's pants, man. They just don't look good on you.” Scar looked down at his pants that were seemingly slipping away before pulling away. “Thank-” the door shut behind Grian, leaving Scar all alone in the hallway.

The exhaled deeply before turning around to go to his apartment, located in front of Grian's only to then stop to look at the apartment next to his. It was Pearl's apartment. Normally, she would be already heading to work around that time, would she have skipped that day after what happened? Or would she throw herself in even harder to try and think about anything else? After a moment considering it, he realized the second option sounded a lot more like Pearl. Maybe Hotguy would pay her a visit after solving a few more issues.

[doctorcrowleywho]

December 5. “Seriously, I told you that you would get sick going out like that.” (Crowley x reader)

25 Days of Ficmas - Day 5

“Seriously, I told you that you would get sick going out like that.” (Crowley x reader)

Word count -   1366  

Warnings - None!

Pairing(s) - Crowley x Gn! Reader

Summary - A confident demon gets sick and you have to take care of him

“Crowley, are you ready?” you called from the front entrance of his flat. Trying to best to busy yourself, you couldn’t help but check your watch a couple of extra times. You were going to be late for your boss's holiday party, and it was going to be his fault.

You could have just gone on your own, sure, but he insisted on meeting your friends now that you two were ‘serious’. Crowley was your first real serious boyfriend. It was nice to have someone that treated you right. When it came to romantic partners in the past, you always seemed to get the short end of the stick. To be fair, you weren’t totally sure what a good, healthy relationship was supposed to look like.

Then you met Crowley, and everything changed. He swept you off your feet and made sure you never forgot just how much he cared about you. Crowley was such a good boyfriend that sometimes you wondered if he was actually real. There was no way a man was this perfect. Well, no human man was.

“Coming darling!” he called from his bedroom and you rolled your eyes, hearing a small crash. Confident footsteps could be heard behind you as he took your hand and spun you around. “Angel, may I say you look absolutely stunning in that outfit,” he whispered, letting his eyes take their sweet time taking you in.

At his words, you could practically feel your insides turn to jelly. You turned as red as your Christmas sweater as you gave him a quick glance over. “Is that what you’re wearing?” you asked, crossing your arms. This man was seriously wearing a long sleeve black sheer shirt that had a large snake slithering its way up his back and his classic black leather trousers to top it all off. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in its normal half-up, half-down look, which always tempted you to run your hands through it. Nothing about his outfit said Christmas. In fact, it screamed “flashy bastard” more than anything. But that wasn’t the point. The point was he wasn’t wearing anything else.

“What you don’t like it?” he asked, sounding like a wounded animal as he gave you a small twirl. He wanted to make sure you got the full view of the outfit.

“No no I do, it's just… aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s currently snowing and we’re walking to the party.” You reminded him as you tugged on your jacket, buttoning it up as tight as it could go.

He gave you a fake pout as he shook his head. "Meh don’t need one, I have hellfire running through my veins.” he said proudly taking your hand in his.

There were times when you enjoyed Crowley's dramatics. It was honestly quite cute to see him get this worked up about something small. Usually, you’d even playfully fight with him until you typically won, but you were already late to the party. So, off you two went trudging through the snow.

A few minutes passed and you could feel your demon boyfriend shivering right next to you. A smug smile tugged at your lips, but you tried your best to fight it. A couple more seconds went by and you could hear quiet little sniffles now.

 “Is someone cold?” You asked, not hiding your smirk anymore.

“Me? Cold? How dare you even insist on-demons never get cold, love! Remember the hellfire?” he stumbled over his words, trying to fight every shiver that ran through his body. How was it his fault that your boss choose the coldest night of the year to have their Christmas party?

You let out a giggle as you shook your head. As you two reached the building, you could feel him sigh in relief. “Right, well don’t complain to me if you get sick.” you kissed his nose as he held the door open for you.

 -two days later-

 The party actually went well. A few people commented on Crowley’s outfit being more confused than anything else. But, he’d always proudly respond that he was ‘Doing Christmas with style!’ which, in all fairness, he absolutely was doing just that. That comment usually got you a small pat on the back with a small ‘Well, he’s defiantly different’ remark.

You were getting ready to leave to see if Crowley wanted to do anything for dinner. You weren’t hoping for anything special, maybe just a small night in while you force him to watch one of your favorite movies. The ones where he pretends he hates, but deep down you know he absolutely loves. When you got a text for him.

‘Be a dear and pick up some soup and maybe some tea? - C x’

Reading this twice over, you still didn’t exactly understand. First of all, demons didn’t have to eat. This was extremely apparent to you on your first date as he simply watched you eat everything. It wasn’t exactly creepy, but it made much more sense after he told you he was a demon. Second off, when did Crowley ever enjoy tea? He reminded you almost every day that he took his coffee as dark as his soul. In fact, you still remember the glare he gave you when you ordered him a glass of milk once.

Why on earth would Crowley ever need you to-suddenly it hit you. Quickly, you rushed to the local cafe right across from Aziraphale's bookshop and headed to your partner's flat.

 “Oh, Crowley my snowflake, I have your things!” You called out as you entered his place. You raised your eyebrows as you were met with silence, which was extremely odd. Usually, he practically tackled you with a kiss the moment you stepped foot into the place.

“Crow-”

“In here-ACHOO” he finally sniffled out from the bedroom, and you felt that same smug feeling you felt on the walk to the party.

 As you shuffled into his bedroom, you couldn’t hide the smirk that crawled its way onto your face. The sight that lay before you was one you hoped you never would forget. Your confident, bold, and proud partner was tangled up in about five different blankets and surrounded by a sea of crumpled-up tissues. He looked absolutely miserable with his glasses off, revealing a pair of exhausted golden eyes with the reddest nose you’ve ever seen.

 “Hi,” he made out before he had to blow his nose again, which made you giggle softly. “, hey don’t you dare make fun of a sick demon! You want me to rein hellfire down upon you? Cause I-I'll-ACHOO…..do it.” he gripped onto the cup of tea that you gave him as if it was his lifeline.

 You gave him a fake pout as you placed the cup of soup by his bed. Quickly, you got to work cleaning up all the tissues around him throwing them in the trashcan next to his bed. “I told you that you would get sick going out like that.” you tsked, running your fingers gently through his hair.

 “Seriously, you’re really going to ‘I told you so’ me right now??” he hissed before sipping his tea. It was hard to find him threatening when he was all cuddled up in different colored fuzzy blankets.

You rolled your eyes at his comment as you lightly tapped his leg, indicating for him to scoot over, which he happily did so. As you got under the blankets, he automatically wrapped himself around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could.

“I thought demons couldn’t get sick? I thought you had ‘hellfire flowing through your veins’?” You mused, smiling to yourself as he flicked his head up in offense.

 “I’m no ordinary demon dear.” he tried his best to wink at you but failed. Slowly, he picked his head up and leaned in to kiss you, but you put a finger to his lips.

“Nope, sorry love, I’m not kissing Crowley the red-nose reindeer.” You teased as he grumbled and nuzzled his head back into your neck. 

[helaelaemond]

Who Walkedst on the Foaming Deep - Tom Bennett x male reader

Pairing: Tom Bennett x male reader, mentions of past Tom x female reader (third person POV)

Summary: Tom Bennett needs the touch of a lover, but in the middle of the Atlantic, options are limited. In a quiet corner of the HMS Exeter, he finds something akin to satisfaction.

Anal sex (reader receiving), mentions of homophobia.

Rating: E

Word count: 1.8k

Thank you @arcielee for helping to guide this fic in the right direction!

Tom bites his lip to keep quiet. His fist is tight around his hard cock, and he strokes himself hard and fast. Behind his closed eyes, he still sees her. She had been so fucking beautiful on that dock, leaning back and eyeing him like she wanted nothing else in the world but his mouth on her cunt. The salt of sea spray reminds him of her fucking taste. Within ten minutes of meeting her, he'd so gratefully sunk to his knees in front of her and had her on his tongue until she came undone.

It makes his heart race. His teeth dig into his lower lip in a poor imitation of her biting kiss. And his cock remains hard.

Getting over that final edge is fucking difficult tonight. The tiniest grunt of frustration escapes him and he lets his cock go. With the other hand, he rubs his face. It's well into the early hours of the morning, and most of the crew, like him, are cramped into bunks to try to get some rest.

The night watch are about, but it's a skeleton crew in the dark. No one notices when he slips silently from his bed. He puts a small pot of petroleum jelly into his pocket - there's no shame in keeping his skin protected against the dry sun of the South American Atlantic - and slinks out of the communal cabin.

Everyone knows where the nancies go. He's not a nancy. But maybe one of them will let him sheath his cock and find the release he needs.

Past the galley kitchens and into the little hall used for dining, Tom goes, and he checks over his shoulder now and again to make sure no one sees him. He's still noticeably hard, and the strain is uncomfortable. The hall's dark. He stands still as the door closes behind him with a quiet creak, and looks into the gloom.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," a low voice greets him.

Tom's lip curls. "Your lucky day, eh?"

The sailor, hidden in the shadows, snorts. "I always wondered if you were one of us."

"Hate to disappoint, mate; just need a hand."

"You got two of them, last I checked."

"You check me often?"

The other man walks slowly towards him until he's caught in a sliver of pale moonlight. "D'you want me to?"

Tom grins. "You can do whatever you like, mate. But don't expect nowt from me in return."

"I don't think anyone expects anything of you, Tom Bennett."

"D'you like the way my name tastes?"

"You're a right cocky bastard. You know that, right?" the sailor replies. But he wastes no time in finding the waistband of Tom's trousers. Why wait? They both know whey they're here.

"Might have been told that before." Tom glances down between them. "You gonna suck me off, then?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I thought you came here to get fucked." And then his arms are around the slender man and he turns him quickly and tries to bend him over one of the dining tables.

"'ey, what d'you think you're playing at?" Tom protests in surprise.

"I know what you want," he replies with a smug smile. "All that posturing, winding everyone up, you just want someone to put you in your place, don't you?"

Tom laughs dryly, and manages to turn around to face him. "I'm not a bender, mate."

"Yet here you are."

He sniggers. "Look, I just wanna get off. And as the girl I really want is an ocean away, you're the next available thing. So either let me fuck you, or I'll find someone who will."

The other man considers him for a moment, but then he grins. "Got a johnny?"

"Nah." He reaches into his pocket and brings out the little pot of Vaseline. "Got this, though."

"Ever fucked a man before, Tom?"

"No."

"Ever thought about it?"

"Maybe."

The other man chuckles lowly. "Does it make you hard?"

"Doesn't matter what does. You gonna help me?"

"Yeah." His voice is low, sultry. "Yeah, I am."

When he tries to kiss him, Tom turns his head away with a downturned mouth. "Not on my face."

"Got it." The other man wastes no other time, and he slips his hand into Tom's trousers. He finds him hot and hard, and when he rests his head between his collar and jaw, the slender man sighs through gritted teeth. He gives him a few experimental strokes, and he's rewarded with another sigh.

Tom's eyes close for a moment. The attention between his legs is such a welcome relief after weeks - months - without the touch of another person. Doesn't matter right now that it's a man. Whatever. He could die tomorrow - might as well go satisfied. And his fellow sailor knows what he's doing. Shit, he twists his hand around him and covers his tip with his thumb, and it pulls a choked moan from him.

"You like that?" the other man asks in satisfaction.

"No," Tom lies, but he's grinning. "What else you got up your sleeve?"

"You're such a piece of shit. Give me the jelly. Cover your cock in it, too."

Tom scoops a small amount onto his fingers before handing the little pot over, and he watches through the darkness as the man pulls off his trousers and bends over. He reaches behind him and rubs the Vaseline over his puckered hole for Tom to see. It's with curiosity that he watches, stroking himself until his cock is slick and smooth, too. He swallows thickly when the man slips two fingers inside himself.

This shouldn't make his cock twitch. This shouldn't fill his mind with the haze of lust. But it's the most erotic thing he's seen in months. He shouldn't be this turned on by a fucking man bending over and presenting himself. When the man meets his gaze and nods, Tom grins.

"Go slow," he tells him.

Tom nods, and presses the blunt head of his cock against his entrance. Inching forwards, his eyes roll back in his head. Fuck, it feels so good. He's missed this, feeling engulfed by the heat of someone else's body. And this is so different to the pussy he's been given before. The tight ring of muscle welcomes him into an entirely different tightness, one that relaxes and contracts like a heartbeat. It makes him grunt quietly.

"Shit."

Below him, the man hisses through his teeth. "Give me a moment, Tommy."

"Yeah. Yeah, take your time." Using every ounce of his self-control, Tom holds still as he groin presses against a soft backside. But he can't resist leaning over and biting the back of the man's neck. He chases his teeth with a hot kiss there. It feels so good to press his lips against skin. It's unfamiliar skin, it doesn't taste like her.

But if he closes his eyes, he can see her again. The woman on the docks. The woman with stars in her eyes.

"Alright," the man grunts. "Have me, Tom."

Something about the gruff neediness in his voice makes Tom's stomach flip in excitement. He thrusts against him in a few experimental movements, hands digging into narrow hips, and the noise of their skin slapping brings shivers along his spine. He does it again, and then again, harder this time. Faster.

And then he's fucking him, he's really fucking him. Tom grits his teeth as pleasure begins to wash over him steadily, and he pulls up his tunic to watch where his cock disappears into the other man's body. It's obscene, how it glistens with the jelly in the moonlight, how hot and slick it feels, how the noises of their joining mingle with their breaths.

"Fuck," he grunts. The word is drawn out, and rumbles deep in his chest.

Beneath him, bent over the table and with knees that are beginning to tremble, the other man tenses and relaxes over and over and soon, Tom's thrusts match the beating of his body. He's soon lost in pleasure, and whether he should touch the man under him or not doesn't matter anymore. He can touch himself, after all.

The tightness around his cock is exactly what he needs. The warm body under his hands, the heartbeat rushing through sensitive skin, it's all exactly what he's been craving. Pleasure builds across the back of his shoulders and down his thighs, crowning his scalp and tightening in his stomach.

"Fuck," he breathes, "shit, shit, shit, I-"

When he tries to pull out, his partner throws back a hand to touch his hip. "Inside," he begs. Only then does Tom notice how quickly and firmly the man is stroking his own cock.

The sight of it pushes him over the edge, and it's the sound of his begging that chases him into oblivion. He fucks him hard as he comes, reaching onto his toes and leaning forward and pressing as deeply as he can inside the pliant body. "Fuck!"

Seed spurts from him into the man's passage, and after a moment, he feels as much as he sees him come apart, too. The clenching of muscles around him makes him whine softly, and he winces as he pulls out too fast. His cock is dark and glistening as he withdraws from the man, cum oozing from his hole and cooling in the air. He grins in satisfaction. It makes his head drop back. His smile is smug.

"Nice one, mate," he says after a moment. He pulls a tissue from his pocket and wipes his cock as clean as he can, before pulling his trousers back up.

"Yeah," he chuckles breathlessly. "That was better than I expected."

"Exceed your wildest dreams, did I?"

"Fuck off, Tom." He grins. Straightening up, he reaches for him, but Tom doesn't let him touch him.

"Right then," he answers after an awkward pause. For once, he's lost for a smart comment. "Well. Best not to tell anyone about this. Got a reputation, and all."

The sailor snorts. "Yeah, me too. Can't let anyone think I'd stoop so low as let the likes of you near me."

"Ouch," Tom mocks. "I'm wounded."

He gives him a tight-lipped smile, before walking past him. "Let me know next time you need a hand. Or a mouth."

Infuriartingly, the words slide over Tom's skin like silk, making it difficult to retort. He clears his throat. "You should be so lucky."

"Yeah. That's the hope."