#writing the code that makes these plots was a pain

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ‘harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re… you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

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taglist

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taglist cont. in reblogs. smooches

[grimmsbride]

⠀⠀⠀ ▒ ❀ ̭͡⠀ ❛ Promises, promises. Johnny Storm

summary. out of desperation you make a deal with the literal fiery devil. let’s see if you can keep up your end of the bargain.

tags. johnny storm is ooc (based off my interpretation of him in the game & little things i remember from the movies). reader is a healer. mentions of usual game mechanics. not proofread. smut. porn with little plot. face seating. oral sex (fem. recieving). reader is chubby/curvy & black girl coded (all are free to read ofc). attempts dirty talk. like one pet name. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. entire plot is inspired by that one luna snow & human torch comic by; CEO OF MILFS on twitter.

author’s note. trying to get back into tumblr writing with marvel rivals, i’m sorry for being so mia everyone. i hope you enjoy and as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.

I’m tired.. The statement was simple running through your mind, jogging closely behind a salivating Venom and your other teammates. Being a hero was a daunting job, one you didn’t regret— but daunting nonetheless. And having to use your abilities to heal wounds was even harder; the concentration that went into it— nevermind the fact some people were just so demanding at times.

A heavy sigh escaped you, hands caressing the air to heal Venom, hearing his tongue-filled thank you shortly after. The time was ticking, only about a minute and thirty seconds left, with zero progress to the last objective. Your teammates were dropping like flies and it seemed like they took even longer to come back from recovering.

Between the match looking quite bleak and the tiredness running through your body, you wanted nothing more but to find a corner and hide; awaiting that familiar feminine voice to tell you, the team had lost.

Caught up in your thoughts, you jumped in surprise the moment something slammed into the wall beside you; concrete crumbling from the impact. You spun around, gasping as a familiar silhouette came into view.

“Johnny!” His name escaped your lips urgently, rushing over and stepping carefully over the debris. Your eyes scanned his body, noting the fact his skin was back to normal as he laid amongst the rubble. A hiss escaped, lowering to your knees and gently scooping the man closer.

You couldn’t deny the level of affection you held for the infamous Human Torch. Despite his frat boyish and overly flirty ways, you knew there was a good heart underneath all that flame.

Not that you would ever admit it anyway.

“I got you, Johnny.” You mummured, hand rising right above him and healing him, the pink glow covering his body like a comforting blanket. You watched happily as his eyebrows undid from his pained crease, watching his own gaze focus on your face.

A boyish grin crossed his features, “Hey, thanks…” He spoke, albeit strained. Though soon he coughed, a hand rising to cover his lips. “I—I think you missed a spot with your healing.

Your eyebrows pressed close, eyes scanning up and down his body for a moment. “Where?”

Like the overgrown child he was, Johnny pointed right to his lips, even making an effort to pucker them in your direction. You gave a loud groan, basically tossing him off you and back into the rubble where pained laughter escaped him.

“Be serious for once, we’re about to lose.” You huffed, slowly dragging your body to standing whilst patting your bodysuit free of rocks and debris. You glanced down at your watch spotting the fact you had forty seconds left. Forty, and your teammates progress wasn’t far at all.

You gritted your teeth, glancing down at Johnny who seemed all too comfy on a bed of rocks.

“Johnny— come on! We have to help the others.”

Johnny gave an unenthused expression, tucking his hands behind his head. “Let the time run out, we can’t do much like this anyway.”

You crossed your arms, struggling not to strangle him right then and there. “I thought the Fantastic Four always fought to the end. I wonder what Reed would think of this..”

The threat went unnoticed, Johnny seemingly tuning you out. Now with only twenty seconds left, it seemed the anxiety began to stir within you, debating on whether to leave him behind and go back to your team.

It would be best, even without some extra firepower you going back to healing would help expeditiously.

Still..

With nothing left to lose, and clenched fists, you stared down at the man with a serious expression. One he caught quickly.

“Wha—“

“If you get up right now, help, and we somehow win this; I’ll sit on your face for however long you want.”

All was silent for a moment, Johnny slowly removing his hands from behind his head, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Suddenly, the air around you was getting hot— way too hot.

A loud flame on! thundered from Johnny’s throat, skin coated in flame as he blasted from the debris and back to the fighting area. You didn’t actually expect that to work, at all. You expected some laughter and him continuing to ride the time out. Not the sudden burst of energy.

But you couldn’t complain.

You chased close behind, hands rising to heal your teammates as they came into view. Sweat trickled down your body, eyes flickering between the time and the objective. It was reaching overtime, it growing closer and closer— more stressful as the seconds passed.

Your team was pushing though, whether with the extra fire or not you couldn’t tell— nor was it a main concern right now. You just needed to keep healing, even when your eyes grew blurry and body ached; you had to keep healing.

Flame began to consume your opponents, their numbers dwindling as you pushed and pushed, the seconds draining but oh so fulfilling.

Finally you made it , the objective clearing as a triumphant you win! echoed around you.

As this reality set you couldn’t help but smile, feeling your body relax slowly. Only to tense the moment you remembered.

You made a promise. And unfortunately for you. Johnny didn’t seem like the type to forget those so easily.

. . .

You dragged the towel along your body, drying your skin completely whilst standing in the middle of your bedroom. After the match you made your way quickly to your quarters, far too excited to wash off the sweat and grime that accumulated from the battle. The water was way too soothing, you nearly extending your shower but not wishing for your skin to get pruny.

With a heavy sigh you placed your towel off to the side, sliding on some panties first before going for your night gown; a pale pink cami style night gown that hung at your ankles, silky and soft against your fresh skin.

You lowered to your bed, legs crossed as you slid some shea butter along them. Focused on smoothing the lotion evenly, you jumped the moment someone knocked on your door, eyebrows creasing in slight concern.

It was getting late, and you weren’t exactly prepared for guests nor were you in the mood to hold any ounce of conversation.

But with another knock you were rising, lips curling into a grimace as you waltzed over to the door in lazy strides. Soon enough you were infront of it, fingers locking around the knob as you turned and pulled, opening the door to reveal the one and only Johnny Storm.

He was dressed in a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tshirt, hair tousled yet still neat enough. Johnny’s gaze traced your attire, smiling to himself.

“Nice gown.”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossing. “What do you want, Johnny? I wanna some sleep after today.”

The man wore a disgruntled expression and despite your best efforts — which really weren’t any — he crept into your room, busying himself with picking up some random knick knack upon your vanity.

“So soon? What about your promise?”

You rose a single eyebrow, trying to make sense of what he said. Silently you stood, arms crossed and staring straight ahead in thought— Johnny waiting ever so patiently, his own gaze settled on your form.

Finally it hit you, like a train, all at once— the stupid promise you made in the heat of battle.

You began to sputter, instinctively shutting the door behind you in fear of what someone might hear;

“Ar—are you seriously going to hold me to that? For what I said in the heat of the moment— that wasn’t a pun.” You added quickly the moment you noticed that damned smirk creep onto his face.

Johnny placed your random item off to the side, shrugging a little as he took you in.

“I mean.. you sounded pretty serious back there..” He hummed, eyes rising from you up to the ceiling. “And I did..” The man stretched the word to really get his point across;

“Hold up my end of the bargain.” Again, Johnny shrugged as if it was no big deal, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed.

“So how about it [Name]? Looking to keep your promise?”

You couldn’t handle the way he was staring at you, your gaze quickly looking at anything but him. From your vanity to your ceiling, your eyes danced about as if the answer was written plainly in the air. You expected to be in bed by now, cuddled up under blankets and sleeping away the stress of the day.

Not being propositioned for a statement you said randomly without a single thought.

As your eyes flicked back to the man, you noticed how he stood patiently— for once. Fully waiting for your reply. Maybe even a hint of excitement resting in his eyes.

Your teeth dragged across the inside of your cheek, rising a single hand and pointing towards your bed.

“Lay down..” You tried to sound much more confident than you were letting on, but you were sure your voice wavered with each word. Though it didn’t seem to faze the man, as Johnny was more than ready to abide your command; basically running over to the bed and dropping to his back— bouncing a little from the impact.

You took in a sharp breath, bending as your hands ran across your thighs for a moment, under your dress, and hooking onto your panties. All under his watchful gaze you slid them down, the fabric bundling before landing against your floor.

Stepping out of them, you glanced up spotting the excited smile practically glued to his face. Slowly you stepped closer, approaching your bed and going knee first onto the comfy blankets. Carefully you crawled up and over him, soon standing right over his torso, collecting your night gown in both hands.

Johnny stared up at you, hands going to glide across your exposed legs, awaiting your next move.

You clenched your dress, lips pursing as you spoke, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Sit and find out.”

Johnny spoke far too quickly, voice devoid of his usual playfulness. You couldn’t deny his words sent a shiver down to the right places, your anxiety simply churning even more.

But, you couldn’t turn back now. Or rather, you didn’t want to. So with a careful step, you inched until you were directly standing right above his head, slowly bending your knees.

Just when you were an inch above his face, strong arms suddenly locked around your waist, quickly pulling you down the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but gasp, face flushed with warmth the moment you felt his gentle breathing right against your center.

“I—I’m not too heavy…right?”

You jumped the moment his annoyed grunt tickled against you, deciding it may be best to shut up right then and there instead of focusing on such trivial things. Rather you began to focus on his lips, and how they gently pressed against you.

Your own parted as the softest oh escaped. The feeling foreign but not at all unwanted. Your eyes fluttered closed, breathing softly as the gentle ministrations continued, Johnny purposely warming you up, slowly.

And when it seemed like you would get enough of just his lips, his tongue poked through, prodding at your lips before sliding them open with a slow lick.

You shook, clenching your night gown tight as those licks continued. His tongue was thick and long, slithering from your entrance right to your clit; paying special attention to that little bud. You were growing hot, eyebrows creasing closer as the pleasure grew. You weren’t experienced in this sort of thing; no one has ever gifted you the pleasure of cunninglingus, yet here you were; with a fellow hero nonetheless.

Your coworker, really, one whose tongue was doing wonders.

“Johnny..” His name fell from your lips in a soft moan, it etching into a groan the moment you felt a hand of his move towards your ass, a warm palm gripping a handful. There, Johnny’s rhythm sped up, his tongue twirling, creating a sloppy mess of your cunt.

Filthy sounds echoed from between your legs, a combination of your pussy and the downright sexy groans that the man was humming right into you. His fingers gripped your skin tightly, assuring you didn’t move an inch as he kept up his treatment.

Your legs began to shake, his hair tickling your thighs as your stomach tightened. A hand released your nightgown to instead grip your headboard, even leaning forward to rest your forehead against the cool wood. The pleasure was clouding your mind, hips slowly moving; grinding right down on his face— without a care if he could breathe anymore.

Johnny’s enjoyment was clear in the way his tongue went flat, gifting you a perfect surface to ride upon. The man was in pure heaven, having such a pretty thing right on his face, unable to move unless he says so. And albeit muffled because of your thick thighs, your moans were the perfectly melody to his already splendid front row seats.

The Human Torch wondered how loud he could get you with just his mouth. Maybe enough that someone bangs on the wall, begging for some peace within the night. Johnny couldn’t help but grin to himself, lips slowly circling your swollen bud, sucking eagerly.

“Fu—fuck…Johnny, Joh—johnny please!”

That’s it.. The man thought to himself, far too happy. He wish he could speak properly, muttering sweet praises and teases; wishing to mock you for being so loud yet encourage it in the safe breath. For now though, Johnny settled on humming along to your moans; the action causing the sweetest vibration.

Your hips increased in ferocity, chasing that high as the band within your stomach continued to tighten. Your eyes were going hazy, struggling to keep your voice at bay. It seemed your night gown went completely forgot, pushed up on your waist whilst your free hand went for his hair, tugging at the perfect locks; feeling the man grunt in response.

The harshest moan escaped you, hips grinding to a stop as you came; a sticky mess painting his face. Your chest rose and fell, heavy breaths escaping as your eyes shut close in an effort to relax.

Which, proved useless the moment you realized Johnny hadn’t stopped. At all. Not for a second. His tongue remained on your cunt, licking you clean of your orgasm and then some.

The pleasure bordered on torture now, quickly turning into overstimulation that had you babbling for mercy;

“J—johnny..! Ple..please I need a break..!—“ You reached for his forehead, pushing weakly at the space. The man didn’t move an inch, him even making an effort to snake a tight arm around your leg so you didn’t move off him.

Tears sprung to your eyes, using the headboard to steady yourself as tremors ran through your body. You could only sit there, paying the price for your poor choice of words in sobs and moans, the tears now streaming right down your warm cheeks.

Johnny was somehow able to peek at you, something he instantly regretted the moment he saw your features. So beautiful, face flushed, eyes glossy, and with the tiniest pout. He felt himself getting harder right in his boxers, struggling not to use a hand to stroke against the growing bulge. But the man knew if given the opportunity you would probably jump right off, so instead he settled on moving his hips uselessly in the air— hoping the friction would relieve even an ounce of tension.

“So fucking wet…I might drown.” Johnny managed to say right into your pussy, a loopy chuckle escaping him; as if drunk off your taste. But with the way his eyes were rolling back, he just might be.

“Jo..johnny, Johnny, please..”

“Fu..fuck..” The man muttered, sucking you up with such vigor as if his jaw was made of metal. “Keep.. saying my name, baby. Let me hear you.”

You obeyed his request easily, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra. With each call it pitched, your eyes going blurrier— possibly even rolling to the back of your skull. That familiar feeling broached your stomach, only harsher than before; a feeling that nearly scared you if it wasn’t for the pleasure that quickly washed over.

With shaky legs you were riding his face, your own a complete mess with tears, pressed against the cool wood of your headboard. Your eyes pinched closed, broken gasps and heavy moans escaping you— voice going raw the moment it all came crashing down.

Heavier than before, surely soaking Johnny completely with your mess. You struggled to breathe, eyes pinched closed as the hold on his hair and your headboard loosened.

You whined the moment you felt movement, worrying he would pick back up but pleasantly surprised to feel the man gently pushing you down to rest on his chest, hearing a sharp breath escape him.

Your head went slack, eyes opening to land on his face. Johnny was a mess, skin coated with your arousal and his saliva, marking up his lips and cheeks. Along with that, he was a little red, hair even messier than before.

Yet he still grinned easily, gliding his hands up and down your thighs, soothing you a little.

“See? I knew you could do it.”

You rolled your eyes slowly, shifting a little and moving in an attempt to crawl off. Yet you didn’t move an inch as his arms tightened, refusing to let you go.

You caught his gaze, Johnny chuckling softly at the look of confusion painting your features. His hand rose, thumb curling to your waist.

“You said for as long as I like..”

“John—“

The man gave a playful pout, head tilting up at you.

“You wanna keep your promise.. don’t you?”

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

It's Bothering me so much that Taylor Swift is so fake smart-girl coded, I need to say this:

I have a degree in both Philosophy and English Literature....

She used the term Soliloquy wrong in her song by using it to refer to people espousing nonsense while complaining in an echo-chamber about her.

Instead, a soliloquy is the most honest and introspective a character will ever be. Often the character will stand to the front center of the stage and, as if in a dream, speak openly to themselves (and in respect to the audience) lay out the truth, or the agony of whichever conflict haunts the plot. So, anyway she's just plain wrong in her usage of the term.

I am not giving a sanctimonious soliloquy. Miss Taylor Swift, you are wrong, and I am speaking honestly.

She finishes the lyric "sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see" and I just want to mention that a soliloquy requires an audience... so she does not know what she is talking about by saying that there is no audience for a soliloquy.

Also, for the record, I don't think Taylor Swift knows anything of substance about Aristotle. I, on the other hand, took a three-hour long oral exam over Aristotle's life work while out-of-my-mind-high on Dayquil and pain meds after a surgery. I got an "A", and, somehow, I lived through that, I doubt the validity of Swift's claims to know anything at all about philosophy. Especially, considering how all her songs are about as deep as a puddle.

She's completely lost her credibility.

The woman did not even finish High School in a traditional, well-rounded way. I think she read a handful of Joe's books and now thinks real highly of herself.

Edit: I don't mean to make fun of her for being dumb. I'm frustrated that she's "stepping on my lawn" and making her legion of fans think that she totally knows what she's talking about when it comes to literary references in her work or philosophy. It's obvious that she does not actually understand the concepts she attempts to engage with.

Her only real literary skill is name dropping actually talented writers or philosophers in her songs.

Edit 2: Since some people want to come on this post and tell me that I am being needlessly pedantic about her use of words. Go away. A soliloquy is an ancient literary form, one which transcends cultures and centuries, and I, as a scholar of English Literature, am in the position to say that Swift is speaking about the form incorrectly. She obviously did not even google the form, it's clear she has very little real acquaintance with half the literature concept or authors she names drops.

Sure, soliloquies can be unreliable (Hamlet's "To Be, or not to be" is the most obvious example). However, the fact of the matter is that soliloquy hinges on the Honesty of the character. Swift writing that it's actually the opposite of honesty proves to me that she has no real idea about the literary form.

[indigovigilance]

The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death

read on Ao3

The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.

Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.

In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.

Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.

In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:

Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person. 

It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard. 

~~~

The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry. 

Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.

Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.

Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.

~~~

In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.

But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.

I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling. 

I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.

[princessofghosts-posts]

I'm going to put here half of one of the best scenes of HoO.

This is page 262 of HoH from XLVIII Percy's pov,basically a few seconds before Percy start to choke Akhlys to death because he couldn't take it anymore (we love him for that).

I'm not going to focus on the whole scene,because I already talked about that,but on a specific line:

He concentrated so hard that something inside of him cracked–as if a crystal ball had shattered in his stomach.

Now,on the surface it's just a phrase that make you understand how Percy is going against his limits to accomplish what he did next,straining himself in the maintime. And that's normal,after all he is going against a primordial,you can't win against someone older than the Earth itself if you don't put a great amount of efforts (even if realistically Akhlys would have their heads in not even a second).

But I think there is something more to it, especially in the "as if a crystal ball had shattered in his stomach" part. I think it's a symbolic way to make the readers understand that Percy is loosing it. The "crystal ball" in question is his moral code that got totally destroyed once they feel into Tartarus. So it rappresent,in a way,his sanity,and how he decided to ignore the logical part of himself and to go against those same morals he has,because he had enough. He was slowly going insane in this scene,and now that it got shattered? He is never going to recover from it,ever. Because Tartarus was too deep and left too much pain,he can't recover from it entirely but he has to learn to live and cope with it.

Another interpretation I also had about this,is the fact that the crystal ball could also rappresent his humanity. I already said that Percy is able to manipulate poison because there is still a bit of water in it,right? That's fine. But the Underworld's rivers? The jump he did from Nyx's maison that was too long to do even for a demigod? I think that is also a way to symbolize how Percy is slowly loosing the mortal part of himself,and is embracing more the godly side. And the boost of powers he has can be totally explained in this way in the narrative since he is slowly becoming more godly (we all know that Riordan favor him and make him do insane things but that's from a writing prospective,not from the plot).

Am I suggesting that with this he could probably ascend to godhood? Probably,but Percy refused that already. It's more of the fact that he is starting to disconnect more from the mortal world than before. Ever since HoO started he got totally cut off from his life,at least in PJO he had moments where he still went to school,stayed with his mom and Paul and actually lived his life like a normal teenager. In HoO we don't have those moments because they are fully immersed in the mythological part of their nature.

And only Percy had this type of reaction in Tartarus. Annabeth didn't felt something inside of her shattering,and I don't know for Nico (hopefully it happened to him too-) or even Will. It's only Percy that had this,and the chapter later we see him using his abilities (especially when they were going away from Nyx's territory) with a boost that wasn't never there before,since he was struggling at the start of HoH when they feel into the first river. I think it's connected to that. (Also,Nico had a boost of powers too,so,he probably had the same happening to him-).

You can totally say it's a narrative choice and I'm overanalyzing two lines that are there just to flavor the narrative more,but Riordan made sure to wrote that to make us understand how broken Percy was starting to be. Both power-wise and mentally. There is just something in that line that caught my attention and,to this days,is still one of my favorites too.

[madlori]

Here's where I am with Buddie.

[CW: I am using the Buddie tag on this post, even though the gist of it is that I'm increasingly doubtful that it'll ever happen. This is NOT an anti-Buddie essay. If you'd rather not read about this topic, please keep scrolling. The bulk of the essay is behind the cut.]

-------

I've thought a lot about this over the weeks since 7x04 aired. It's not a secret that I'm wildly enthusiastic about the BuckTommy pairing (as are many fans) but what does that mean for my thoughts and opinions about Buddie, a pairing I still love and for which I am still writing fic (slowly but surely…)?

It's become increasingly difficult to reconcile hopes for Buddie with dread for a BuckTommy breakup, but if the show managed to pull off a breakup that did not destroy me, I would still be all in for a Buddie endgame.

But more and more, I don't think it's in the cards, and I'm increasingly okay with that.

First off, I know it's a common assumption that Buck and Tommy have an expiration date, and that it cannot last. That may very well be the case, but…the show is not acting like it, nor are they presenting this arc as if it's short-lived. Episodes 4-6, while also being about other things (especially the amazing Madney wedding plot in 6) were also a bit of a trilogy about Buck discovering his sexuality and taking tentative steps into a relationship with another man. It didn't go…particularly smoothly, but the events of 7x06 where they were concerned had a completely different tone. They had a much more settled vibe in the karaoke club scenes, from Tommy's very boyfriendly "check-in" look before he had to leave, to Buck's casual/distracted "Be safe" (as if he's said this before) and just how they spoke to each other and touched each other was much more comfortable than in the coffee meetup. Which makes me think it's been a few weeks and they've seen each other a few times in the interim.

And then that kiss. Putting aside that it was juxtaposed with a literal wedding kiss, there was nothing uncertain or hesitant about it. It felt like a very arc-capping kiss, coupled with the reveal to the rest of Buck's friends and family, and the clear message was "Okay, they're done 'getting together' now, they are together and will be together going forward, even if we don't see Tommy every episode (much as we don't see Karen every episode)." We know Tommy will be around through the end of S8, if not in every remaining episode. After that, we'll see.

A lot of fans have viewed one of the guys coming out as queer to be a first step towards a Buddie future, but I have to say I've never been super comfortable with that logic. I've always thought that if they were going to get together, or both be revealed to be queer, it would have to be at the same time, with each other, via them getting together. The minute they pulled the trigger on Bisexual Buck, I immediately thought that this made Buddie far less likely. Why?

Because it would mean that the writers/showrunners would be making BOTH their "hot younger firefighter" characters queer…separately. In separate storylines. Distinct from each other. And I just don't see that happening. I'm not saying it SHOULDN'T happen. I'd be over the moon. I'm saying I think that's unlikely.

As much as it pains me to say it, I think Eddie will be written as straight and will continue to be written as straight. I don't disagree with the many examples of queer coding we've all seen - the problem is all of them can be just as easily interpreted as arising from a different trauma. Almost everything we've seen from him that could very legitimately be read as breadcrumbs for a queer identity for him could also be rooted in his trauma over Shannon's death, his family trauma, his PTSD, or his general anxiety over being enough for people. He can be read as having sexuality crises. But he can also be read as having other crises with the same results.

I'm not seeing a sexuality crisis for Eddie in the future. I just don't feel like that's where they're taking him. They're taking him somewhere -- he's got storylines coming up -- but I think they're going to have to do with his family, possibly his friendship with Buck, maybe his relationship (I think we can all agree Marisol isn't going to last, she's like the anti-Tommy in that she's been around way longer but has infinitely less of a presence), and Christopher. That's a lot to deal with just right there. If I'm wrong, I will be delighted to be wrong.

But.

I think the show will continue to prioritize and showcase Buck and Eddie's very deep and emotional friendship, which is revolutionary in its own quiet way. Another thing that makes me think they're setting Tommy up to be a long term love interest is that one of the first things they did with him was affirm that he will not come between Buck and Eddie, give him his own relationship with Eddie and Chris, and have him show that he understands and respects the depth of their bond. Not to mention they've integrated him with the firefam. No other of Buck's love interests have gotten this treatment (Taylor had the most contact with the firefam, but I don't think anyone would say she was integrated, LOL). And it shows how committed they are to maintaining Buck and Eddie's friendship as a key emotional element of the show. Tim has also said this, repeatedly.

People often say that there's no explanation for how Buck and Eddie are with each other if it's not romantic - I read a fantastic essay that pointed out that this statement is the reason their platonic friendship IS so important. Men should be able to be vulnerable and loving with each other without it being romantic, as women can be. If we're unable to see a loving friendship without interpreting it as romantic or sexual, what does that say about the kind of male friendships we see everywhere, that makes this one so different?

I know this is an old anti-Buddie argument and I'm not anti-Buddie nor do I mean it's wrong to see it as romantic. I still do. I'm saying if it's not, if it never is, what it is, is already valuable and special, especially when one of them is now openly queer and dating a man.

Anyway. That's where I am with it, and my interpretation of where the show is with it.

[thegreymarveljedi]

Welcome Home Sergeant

(Hunter x Reader)

In honour of all the other Bad Batch stuff I’ve posted over the last few days, here’s another one.

But make it spicy😈

This story was used for something else in my writing career but I decided, fuck it!, I’m using it for Star Wars cause I’m a sucker for Hunter and the Bad Batch.

This takes place pre! Season 7 so before Echo joins the bad batch, (sorry again Echo fans).

(Divider done by @pinkiemme )

Warnings: mentions of injury, overstimulation, gunshot wound, Batch Bad brothers, SMUTTTT, title! kink, praise! kink, pet names, blindfold, handcuffs, spanking, Dom! Hunter/ Sub! Reader, fingering, fisting, anal sex, oral sex, colour system, deepthroating, 69, rough sex. (This is basically just porn with minor plot. Literally is like reading porn)

Words: 7.4K

After a long and difficult mission but successful mission, Hunter wanted nothing more than to cuddle up next to you. Run his fingers through your hair, down your body, kiss your breathe away. It had been too many rotations to count since he had been home but now, finally, the batch had been given some time off.

He and the Bad batch had be gone on back to back to back undercover mission for almost two months and he had hardly slept. His sleep was plagued with nightmares and his senses had been acting up a lot more. Not having you to hold him, to calm his mind and tell him that everything would be alright made his heart ache.

He sat silently on his bunk on the Marauder, doing his best to quiet his mind as he suffered with a migraine. Tech sat in the pilots seat, talking with Crosshair as they flew through hyperspace. Wrecker was passed out on his bunk across from Hunter, resting him arms across his chest.

Even though the missions had been successful, there had been some injuries. Their cover had been blown on the last mission and the separatists had been testing a new weapon, one that severely affected Hunters senses. He had almost passed out from the pain his head was in, his body feeling weak and his senses overwhelmed.

Tech and Wrecker were able to get the information the squad needed, Crosshair staying with Hunter to make sure he was okay. A few droids had snuck up on Hunter and Crosshair, trying and failing to killing. Even though the droids didn’t have their way, Hunter had still taken a shot to the shoulder while trying to take one down, Crosshair finishing the job as he checked in the Sergeant.

When all was said and done in the mission, Wrecker had helped Hunter up the ramp of the marauder, Tech pushing a few buttons on his helmet to enable silencing, darkness and scent dampening. Tech had installed these features on Hunters helmet long ago, wanting to help his brother in any way he could with his heightened senses.

After about 7 hours, Tech pulled the marauder out of Hyperspace over Coruscant, transmitting clearance codes for their safe landing at the GAR base. When they landed, Tech lowered the gangplank, Crosshair coming to the bunks and smacking Wrecker awake.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“To wake you up. You sleep like a brick.”

“Well you didn’t have to hit me so hard!”

“I did.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Both of you shut the Kriff up!” Hunter growled, glaring daggers at his younger brothers. Both Wrecker and Crosshair could tell by Hunter’s tone that he was not joking around, both quickly leaving the bunks and heading off the marauder. Hunter stayed back for an extra few minutes, trying to get his thoughts in order. He had been shot in one of the more sensitive parts of his shoulder, making the pain even more amplified.

It wasn't until Tech walked back up the ramp that Hunter snapped out of his thoughts, his left hand holding his right shoulder, the pain fully registering even after putting bacta on it. Tech walked over and kneel down in front of Hunter, giving him a once over with a scanner before putting it away, picking up Hunters helmet that had been discarded on the floor.

“Are you alright Hunter?” Tech asked quietly, examining the readings that the scanner had given him. Hunter shook his head and winced, his migraine feeling like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his head. His shoulder was also on fire, the pain radiating like a vibroblade was still stuck in there.

“Let’s get you to the medical wing. I was informed that Metric and the 212th are on leave so we can go see a more familiar face,” Tech said. Hunter gave a small nod as Tech placed his helmet over his head, the sensory features kicking in again. Once Hunters helmet was secure, Tech helped him off his bunk slowly, making his way down the plank where Wrecker and Crosshair were talking with Cody.

"You alright Sarge?" Cody asked as Tech walked with him over to the others. Wrecker noticed immediately that Hunter wasn’t well and too the initiative to take Hunter from Tech, picking Hunter up off the ground so that he wasn’t touching anything.

"No, he���s not. Even though our missions were successful, Hunter was injured. The separatists seemed to have engineered a weapon specifically designed to enhance electromagnetic frequencies. The weapon overwhelmed his senses and left him vulnerable, allowing him to be shot,” Tech explained making Cody’s eyes widen.

“Okay, let’s get him to Metric. I’ll have a private room prepped and everything,” Cody explained and signalled for the Batch to follow him. They did so without question, Tech leading the group behind Cody with Wrecker holding onto Hunter in the middle and Crosshair coming up the rear.

They made it to the medical wing in no time, everything having been prepared for Hunter and the boys. Metric was ready with the supplies needed to fix up Hunter’s shoulder as well as the equipment to help ease his senses. There were few words exchanged as Metric did his job flawlessly, still cracking jokes with the Batch as he went which made them all smile a little.

~Time skip~

(Y/N) sat lazily on her and Hunter’s bed, waiting for her handsome sergeant to return home. It had been too long since she had last been able to hold him or kiss him, but she knew his jobs was important and had to be done. She was just about to get up and go take a shower when her comm went off, she snatched it quickly and with a grin, expecting to see Hunter but she was instead greeted with Tech.

Fear immediately gripped her heart, fearing the worst for her boyfriend when it was his brother who called instead of him.

“Tech what’s going on?”

“There is no need to panic (Y/N) I can assure you. Hunter is alright, just a shot to the shoulder and his heightened senses all over the place,” (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief at Tech’s explanation, happy to hear that Hunter was alive though sad to hear that he wasn’t doing well.

“Is he alright?”

“He is better now. Metric has closed the wound on his shoulder so it should heal in about a day or so. As for his senses, he has been given a remedy that should help, though I do recommend rest for him.”

“Okay. Thank you Tech.”

“Affirmative. We will bring him by shortly. We all know that he is desperate to see you.”

(Y/N) giggled at that, imagining just how much teasing Hunter had to endure from his brothers.

“Thanks Tech. See you boys soon!” Tech nodded before ending the call, (Y/N) stretching with a sigh.

She turned on some music and began to blast it throughout the room, bopping her head to the sound of the Jizz band. Luckily the walls of her high rise apartment were sound proof so no one would hear as she sang to her hearts content.

As (Y/N) was picking up the clothes that were strewn all over the floor and put them away, she came across a set of lingerie and ropes that she had recently purchased. They were stashed away on her side of the closet, ready and waiting to be used when Hunter came home. She smiled at the thought before an idea popped into her head, her grin hardly containable before walking into the conjoined fresher to take a shower.

~Time skip~

Hunter was grateful to his brothers for getting him the help he needed and he was grateful to metric for patching him up so meticulously. He thanked the medic one final time before he and the rest of the Batch made their way out of the medical wing. Hunter went to take a right to head to their barracks when Tech cleared his throat, Hunter turning his head to see his brothers taking a left back to the hanger.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the Marauder.”

“Why? We’re on leave for the next 2 weeks.”

“Affirmative, though I assumed you would like to go and see a certain female after such a long stint away?” Tech said and Hunter deflated slightly, the thought of you making him relax and smile.

He didn’t argue with Tech any further as he followed the squad back to the Marauder, excited to see his Cyar’ika after too long away. They piled into their ship, Tech taking off and flying them towards (Y/N)’s high rise apartment.

Tech landed the Marauder on (Y/N)’s private landing pad, opening the ramp and allowing Hunter out. He has shed his armour and instead, replaced it with civilian clothes, the comfort of the soft fabric making him feel even more relaxed. As he made his way down the gangplank, he noticed that his brothers didn’t follow.

“You guys coming?” He asked and all three shook their head.

“And have to listen to you two all night? No thanks,” Cross replied, a smirk on his face and a toothpick in his mouth.

“Ya I’d rather just go to 79’s and celebrate!” Wrecker said with a grin and pumped his fists, ready for a drink and some music. Hunter shook his head at the two before turning to Tech quizzically.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on these two and make sure that no one gets hurt.”

Hunter nodded to his younger her brother, stepping fully off the gangplank and watching at the door closed, Tech pulling the ship off the landing pad and flying off. He shook his head at his brothers, though he knew that tonight was just for him and his beloved.

Hunter made his way into the building and gave the proper security clearance to make it to the elevator, pushing the button to get to (Y/N)’s floor. As the elevator closed and began ascending, Hunter’s mind wondered to all the things he could do with and to his Cyare now that he was home. He thought of how he would kiss here, profess his love to her, how he wanted nothing more than to curly up in her arms and fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat. He thought of all the dirty things they could do, how sinful you’d look with his cock buried inside you, how gorgeous your blissed out face would be after he made you cum over and over and over again.

When the elevator stopped on the correct floor, Hunter disembarked, walking into the apartment that he and (Y/N) had came to share. The place was clean, smelling of softly scented air freshener and cookies. Hunter looked over to the counter of the open concept kitchen and noticed that there were indeed some of Hunters favourites there. He smiled, feeling more loved then ever. He walked further into the apartment and came to the door of his and (Y/N)' shared room, knocking on the door before it slowly slid open.

To his surprise, he found (Y/N) lying on their shared bed, her private earbuds in, listening to something. He smirked when he realized she was watching something very naughty on the holonet, hand down at her southern lips, moving her fingers slowly. He licked his lips and watched for another minute or so with hunger in his eyes, his pants beginning to feel tight.

"Whatcha up to there mesh’la?" Hunter said as he walked further into the room, breaking his silent observing as the door sliding closed behind him. He reached behind him and engaged the lock just as (Y/N) shot up from her laying position, removing her hand from her cunt and facing Hunter with a look of surprise. She smiled widely as she laid eyes on him, quickly throwing on one of his shirts before throwing herself into his arms.

Hunter chuckled lowly and hugged (Y/N) back, holding her close. He had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other gently cradled her head to his neck as she wrapped her arms around his. He could feel her heart beating quickly, the scent radiating off one of apples, cinnamon and vanilla. He could smell her arousal, the sweet smell making him harder by the minute.

"I missed you Hunter," she said and a few tears falling from her eyes at finally having her sergeant back in her arms. Hunter held her tightly, stroking her hair and giving her hips a gentle yet loving squeeze.

“It's ok my love, I'm okay. I’m home and I’m safe," He said, giving her head a kiss and running his hand up and down her back in a comforting motion. She smiled into Hunter’s neck and held onto him tighter, relishing in the strength of his arms and the heat of his skin through his shirt.

Hunter chuckled as he picked her, making her wrap her legs around his waist. (Y/N) yelped in surprise, clinging to Hunter as he lifted her. She locked her legs around his waist, pulling back from the hug only a little and planted a gentle kiss to Hunter’s forehead before capturing his lips with hers. They shared a passionate kiss as Hunter laid her on the bed gently, moving himself to cage (Y/N)’s body under his.

Her legs didn't let go though, keeping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, koala hugging him. Hunter laughed and lifted her back up before sitting on the edge of the bed, just holding her in his arms. (Y/N) kept her face bury in Hunter’s neck, taking in the scent of his soap and his natural smell of oakwood and carbon scoring.

Hunter ran a gentle hand through her hair, kissing her forehead and cheek every few seconds to remind her he was home, that he was safe and okay. (Y/N) smiled and pulled away slightly to look at Hunter, resting her forehead against his in a keldabe kiss. Hunter smiled at the action, resting his hands on her hips once more and closing his eyes, relishing in the feeling of being in her arms.

"Welcome home Sarge,” (Y/N) said softly with smiled, kissing his nose teasingly. Hunter returned her smile and kissed (Y/N)'s lips, smiling into the kiss when she kissed back. It was an innocent kiss full of love and affection, their lips moving together in sync.

They both pulled away and smiled at one another, the aura in the room light and comfortable, "It feels so good to be home ner sarad," Hunter said, running his hands up and down (Y/N)’s sides and thighs, the warmth of his hands making her squirm. (Y/N)’s hands found their way up into Hunter’s hair, slowly untying the bandana from around his forehead. Hunter groaned at the relief, sighing contently as (Y/N) ran he fingers through his hair being as gentle as possible.

"How about we go have a shower Cyare? I could use a nice hot one," Hunter said. (Y/N) nodded and gasped again as Hunter effortlessly lifted her up, his strength still surprising to her some times. He lifted (Y/N) up and carried her to the bathroom, carefully sitting her down on the counter, and slowly, teasingly pulling his shirt off her body. (Y/N) gave Hunter a mischievous look causing him to laugh, finally taking the shirt off and tossing it back into their room.

Hunter stopped for a moment to admire the women in from of him, taking in ever physical feature he loved about her. Her round plump breasts, her wide juicy hips, her gorgeous legs, he loved everything about her. She was perfect in his eyes, perfect for him, someone he didn’t think he deserved to have in this lifetime. Hunter brought a hand up to her face, resting it in her cheek and stroking her cheek lightly with his thumb. He could admire her all day everyday for the rest of his life if the maker would allow it. He was enamoured by her in every way and he would make sure to tell her that for as long as they were together.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner cyar’ika. You’re absolutely stunning. Like a goddess handcrafted by the maker himself," Hunter whispered to (Y/N), placing a lingering kiss to her forehead. She smiled at his declaration, tear threatening to spill from her eyes once more. She leaned into his touch and his kiss, enjoying the more relaxed, softer side that Hunter only displayed around her and his brothers.

Hunter was almost always on edge, his position as the squad’s sergeant a very tiring one. He was their leader, the receiving and giving the orders, his responsibility to his brothers one of great importance. He was always looking out for them on missions, always ready to throw himself in the fray to protect them. They were willing to do the same, evidence of that displayed today by how they got him help and brought him home to her.

When Hunter was with her, he didn’t have a care in the world. He trusted Tech to be in command when he was otherwise preoccupied. Every once in a while, he had the chance to come home to his Cyare and he could pretend that the war didn’t exist. That he was just a man coming home to his girlfriend after a long day at work.

"I love you Hunter," (Y/N) said, looking up at Hunter with a wide smile. She leaned up and placed a kiss to his jaw before moving her hands down to the hem of his shirt. Slowly she lifted his shirt off, tossing it to the floor before looking back at him. She took a second to admire his body, his tattoo carrying down his body and disappearing below the waist band of his bottoms. It was the she noticed the bandages around his right shoulder, the bright white wrapping smelling of bacta. (Y/N) ran a gentle hand over the bandages, being careful not to touch it too much.

"How’d this happen baby?" She asked softly, leaning over to kiss the bandages before looking back at him. Hunter smiled at her concern and pulled her into his chest, resting his head on top of hers.

"It's okay my love. The separatists had a new weapon that made my sense go haywire. Cross had to stick with me while Tech and Wrecker got what we needed,but a squad of droid snuck up on us and got a hit on me. I’m okay though, I promise," Hunter explained and he could feel (Y/N) tense slightly at the mention of his sense being fucked with.

(Y/N) hugged him tighter, running her fingers gently through his hair. Hunter just kissed her head and pulled away from the hug, removing his pants and boxers in one swift motion. (Y/N) stared as Hunter finished removing his clothes, walking over to the shower and turning it on. She admired the way his hips swayed as he walked, the definition of his muscles making him look even more sexy.

(Y/N) licked her lips as she stared at Hunter’s ass his globes quite plump and big and she loved to tease him by smacking it. She hadn't even noticed Hunter walking backwards toward her until he stood in front of her again. She blushed and looked away, embarrassed at being caught admiring His backside.

Hunter laughed and picked (Y/N) up by her thighs, her arms wrapping around his neck. He brought her into the shower before gently setting her down on her feet. The couple smiled at one another as they washed themselves and each other teasing each other as they showered. Hunter would grope (Y/N)'s ass or breasts while she would 'accidentally' brush his now mostly erect cock. She reached around his body and grab his ass as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Fuck it," Hunter mumbled and pushed (Y/N) up against the wall of the shower, pinning her hands above her as he kissed her passionately. (Y/N) kissed back with an equal amount of passion and aggression, wanting Hunter to just fuck her already.

Hunter moved his left hand down her body, groping her breasts as he went before finally making it to her lower lips. His left hand remained raised, occupied holding her hands above her head. (Y/N) moaned as Hunter rubbed her clit in rough circles, enjoying the sounds she made. Her lips looked so kissable, so plush and pretty as she moaned. He leaned in and kissed her, swallowing her sounds as he pleasured her.

"H-hunter, please," (Y/N) moaned and tossed her back gently as Hunter broke the kiss, "Please sergeant, please," Hunter smirked at her whining, slowing his fingers down to a snail’s pace.

"Please what mesh’la? What do you want your sergeant to do to you?" Hunter asked huskily and ran his fingers up and down her folds, teasingly slipping one in and out from time to time.

"Please! Please sergeant...please fuck me, I need you so bad," (Y/N) cried, bucking her hips into Hunter's hand. Hunter smirked and stopped his movements completely, his fingers resting directly over her core.

"What do you want me to fuck you with my love? Do you want my fingers, my mouth or my cock?" Hunter said seductively, his voice low and sexy as he began to circle ber clit relentlessly again.

(Y/N) moaned loudly again and moved her hips in time with Hunter’s fingers, "Fuck me with all three! Sergeant please fuck me with your fingers, your cock, and your mouth! Please!" (Y/N) begged, making Hunter smirk, his cock hardening fully.

He didn't wait another second before plunging three fingers into (Y/N)'s core, forcing a scream of pleasure from her lips. (Y/N) moaned as Hunter finger fucked her fast, moving his fingers at a relentless pace. He added another finger into her core, somehow moving his fingers faster and deeper inside of her. (Y/N) was practically riding Hunter’s fist, moaning loudly and lewdly in pleasure at the feeling of him filling her up. Finally Hunter added his last finger, now having his whole fist inside her dripping, pulsing pussy.

(Y/N) moaned, panting between moans as Hunter continued to fist her. He stopped and pulled out of her for a second, (Y/N) whining at the loss of contact and fullness before Hunter turned her around and pushed her chest against the wall. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling of the cold tile wall on her chest before letting out a pornographic moan as Hunter began to fist her again.

"Oh fuck yes Sergeant! Fuck it feel so good!" (Y/N) moaned as Hunter smirked triumphantly, knowing just how to play her body like a fiddle. He let go of her hands and brought his right hand down to her other hole, teasing her asshole with two of his fingers.

"Will you be a good girl and listen to your sergeant? Will you be a good girl for me cyar’ika? Do as I tell you?" Hunter asked, slowing his movements down until he stopped moving his fist all together. All he received in return was a strained moan and a nod from the woman before he brought his hand down on her ass cheek.

"Speak Mesh’la. You know you need to use your words or you get punished," Hunter all but growled, smirking as he watched his beloved squirm even more. (Y/N) moaned before turning her head to look over her shoulder at Hunter, her eyes filled with longing, lust and obedience.

"I'll be a good girl for you sergeant, sir, please. I will listen and do as you tell me. I'll be a good girl," (Y/N) said, her submissive side winning the internal battle. She wanted him to dominate her, use her for his own pleasure like a toy.

Hunter smiled and ran a hand over (Y/N)’s reddened asscheek, moving his fingers to her pussy and slowly pushing three inside her again. "Good girl. Such a good girl for me," He praised and kissed her shoulder, "Now, I want you to spread your ass for me. Show me your tight hole so I can fuck it," Hunter growled and (Y/N) moaned, spreading her ass cheeks apart for him.

"That's it. Good girl," Hunter praised before he slowly moved two of his fingers inside her ass as he continued to finger her pussy. (Y/N) whimpered and moaned at the sensation, feeling so full and stretched by her lover. Hunter always knew how to get her going, how to work her body and how to making her feel good. It was one of his many talents that she admired and she could never get enough of him.

Hunter added another finger to her tighter entrance, moving his fingers in time with the one buried in her cunt. By now (Y/N) was chanting Hunter's name like a prayer, her eyes rolling around in pure ecstasy. The cold wall of the shower felt so good against her heated skin, her cheek pressed heavily against it. With an obnoxiously loud moan, she came, Hunter pulling both his hands from her roughly, watching her squirt. His eyes lit up as he watched the filthy display, (Y/N)’s body convulsing as she came. He hands flew back to the wall of the shower, trying to find some stability as she moaned at the feeling of her orgasm.

Hunter moaned just watching her cum, diving right back in and pushing his fist into her pussy roughly, hard and fast before pulling it out just the same making her squirt again. His other arm found its way around her waist, holding her up as her legs threatened to give out.

"Sergeant please!" She cried as he repeated his action for a third time, Hunter smiling as he pushed his fist into her again, leaving it there and waiting. She moaned as he did, feeling so fucked out already and he hadn’t even fucked her with his cock. She could feel it resting on her hip, erect and waiting for her.

"Please what ner cyar’ika? What does my Cyare want?" Hunter teased and kissed from her shoulders to her neck up to her cheek. (Y/N) panted leaned her forehead against the wall, the words dying in her mouth. She was struggling to formulate any kind of coherent thought, all thoughts in her head filled with Hunter and how good he felt inside her.

"I-I-I w-ant y-" she couldn't finish her sentence before her knees buckled, Hunter pulling out of her cunt and catching her.

"You okay mesh’la?" He asked, genuinely concerned if he had hurt her. (Y/N) nodded and swallowed, taking deep breaths to regain her bearings, "I need words doll. What colour are you?" He ask and stood her up under the gentle flow of the now warm water.

"G-green… Yellow. I-I just need a minute,” She said and rested her head against his chest. Hunter smiled and help her as she breathed, him breathing with her as he rinsed his hand clean. After a few minutes Hunter felt her place a few kisses to his chest, drawing patterns on his abs and tracing his sinfully sharp v-line.

"Green, sir," she said and Hunter smiled, using two fingers to lift her chin before leaning down to kiss her. (Y/N) kissed back, smiling at the gentle kiss and display of affection that was such a contrast from the rough display mere minutes ago. Hunter smiled as well before carefully picked her up by her thighs, wrapping (Y/N)’s legs around his waist once again as he turned the water off and exited the shower.

(Y/N) smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he made his way back into their bedroom, gently laying her down on the bed. Hunter pulled away from her for a minute, taking in her gorgeous form and beautiful smile. She was drop dead gorgeous I'm his eyes, a vision from the maker himself.

“Mesh’la,” he whispered as he stared, his eyes taking their time ravaging her body before moving back up to look into her deep (E/C). The eyes that he could get lost in, the one he has gotten lost in and never wanted to leave. The lips that he could kiss for hours, red and swollen because of him.

"What is it Hunter?" She asked innocently and Hunter couldn’t help but smile fondly at her.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (Y/N). You are so beautiful and I am so happy to call you mine," Hunter said as he took one of her hands in his.

(Y/N) smiled up at Hunter, her innocent submissive act slipping away as she gazed up at the soldier above her, "I love you too Hunter. So so so much. My handsome soldier, my handsome man," She said. Hunter smiled and leaned down to kiss her gently again, the hand hold hers coming up and resting both there hand next to her head. His other hand followed and rested on her cheek, stroking the soft skin with such care and love.

Soon the kiss turned heated, Hunter running his tongue along the seam of (Y/N)’s lips, asking to be let in. She complied without a fight, allowing Hunter in to explore her mouth. He nipped at her lips as he went, his hands moving down to caress and worship her body. (Y/N)’s hands found their way into his hair, running her fingers through his loose curls.

Naked, sweaty bodies pressed against one another, quiet moans and whispered praises were all that could be heard throughout the apartment. No one was the wiser, the perks of having a sound proof and private apartment all to themselves. Hunter ground himself against (Y/N), grinding his hard cock into her dripping pussy without entering her. She moaned and bucked her hips up, trying and failing to entice him to fuck her already.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast cyar’ika. You know what happens when you do that," Hunter said and smirked at her. (Y/N) pouted but continued to buck her hips up, the innocent expression on her face a contrast from the mischievous behaviour she was displaying. Hunter growled and pinned her hips to the bed with his own, pinning her hands above her head.

"Please sergeant. Please. I missed you so much," (Y/N) begged while giving Hunter the puppy eyes that he was so rarely able to refuse. He stared down at her for a moment before shaking his head, not wanting to give into her just yet.

"Soon Cyare, very soon. Let your sergeant have his fun first okay?" Hunter said as he traced one of his hands up and down her side. (Y/N) pouted, faking sadness that her puppy eyes didn’t work on Hunter this time before nodding, accepting the fact that Hunter needed to do this.

"Yes sir," (Y/N) said and stopped moving, waiting for Hunter to continue with his ministrations at his own pace. Hunter stopped and stared at her for a moment before moving his hand to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

"What is it mesh’la? What's wrong?" Hunter asked, kissing her cheek. (Y/N) sighed again and looked at Hunter with a hint of tears in her eyes.

"I missed you Hunter. I thought about you everyday. I craved you and still do crave you. I want you so bad. I want you to make love to me; rough, passionate, breathtaking love. I want you so bad. Please. I can't wait any longer please. Please take me," (Y/N) begged, trying her best not to move her hips in time with her words no matter how desperate she sounded.

Hunter stared at her for another minute before leaning down and giving her a gentle kiss to her lips, then her forehead, "I missed you too Cyare. Everyday I thought about coming back to you, how I would come back to the safety of our home. I thought about only you and those thoughts are what kept me going when things got tough. I'm sorry for making you wait so long my love, " He said and kissed her again.

"It's okay Hunter, I understand," She said and gave Hunter a smile. Hunter returned her smile before moving away for a second, coming back from the closet with a blind fold and a pair of handcuffs.

(Y/N) mewled at the sight of the toys, rolling over onto all fours and moving up the bed to the pillows, slowly and teasingly swaying her hips. She had planned to wear her new lingerie set and show Hunter the rope she had bought but that could wait for another day. She stretched out on purpose, sticking her ass in the air to give Hunter a view of her dripping pussy. (Y/N) smiled as she heard Hunter groan at the sight before he flipped her back over onto her back.

"That's not very nice cyar’ika," he said in a sinfully deep voice. (Y/N) giggled, smiling mischievously at Hunter before her caught on, smirking right back at her, "You did that on purpose, didn't you ad’ika?"

"Of course sergeant. I love the way your eyes light up when I tease you," (Y/N) whispered seductively. Hunter groaned and pinned her down with his hips again, making quick work of cuffing her hands to the bed and placing the blind fold over her eyes, with her consent of course.

"I'm going to punish you for that pet," Hunter said making (Y/N) to moan. Hunter expertly flipped (Y/N) back over onto her stomach, lifting her ass in the air and spreading her cheeks. He groaned at the sight of her gaping pussy and loose asshole. He slowly brought his hands back to her ass, his left hand coming down on her left ass cheek before his right came down in her right one.

(Y/N) moaned and tried her best to keep still, very much enjoying her punishment. She loved the pain and when Hunter spanked her again, she couldn't help but bend further, lifting her ass higher for him. Hunter smirked and spanked her again, loving the way her ass jiggled when he smacked it.

"How many is that mesh’la? How many times has your sergeant spanked you?" Hunter growled out, teasingly running a hand over her abused cunt.

"F-four so far sir," she said and Hunter stopped for a second, looking down at her quizzical before the realization dawned on him.

"Ahh. Smart girl, the one in the shower," He said as (Y/N) nodded, answering with a sickly sweet, “yes sir.” Hunter smiled at her, even if she couldn't see it through the blind fold.

"Good girl, you're such a good girl for me mesh’la," Hunter praised her. (Y/N) moaned, the praise making her even more wet. She was a good girl, she was his good girl.

"Now, you've been a good girl but you're still going to get punished for teasing me. I'm going to give you six more spanks and you're going to count from five saying 'thank you' after each one, okay?" Hunter explained and (Y/N) nodded, whimpering out another, "yes sir."

Hunter took a minute, admiring his lover's round, plump, red ass before brushing his hand over it. (Y/N) knew what he was doing, simulating her so she wouldn't know when he'd strike, the anticipation making her squirm giddily. Finally, Hunter brought his left hand down on her ass, giving her a hard smack.

"Five! Thank you sir!" She mewled out, tugging at the cuffs that restrained her to the bed. Hunter brought his right hand down in her ass this time, a red mark on her ass where his hand landed. He watched with satisfaction as (Y/N)’s ass jiggled, he plump ass looking even more beautiful with his hand print on it.

"S-six! Thank you sir!" She moaned. He was claiming her as his, even if she already was his, his hands marking her ass as he continued.

*SMACK* "seven! Thank you sir!"

*SMACK* "Eight! Thank you sir!"

*SMACK* "N-Nine! Thank you sir!”

*SMACK* "TEN! Thank you sergeant!"

Hunter dealt the final blow to her ass, her cheeks red and pulsing, her cunt dripping and clenching around nothing. Hunter smiled at the sight of her holes, clenching around air, gaping because of him

"You've been such a good girl for me cyar’ika. My good girl," Hunter moaned out as he leaned down to her ear, nipping at it teasingly. (Y/N) moaned and nodded, the blindfold soaking up her tears of pain and pleasure.

"I am your good girl s-sergeant. I'll always be your good girl," (Y/N) moaned out, tugging at the cuffs again. Hunter smiled and undid the cuffs, massaging (Y/N)’s wrists before gently placing her hands on the bed. He laid down on top of her, his chest against her back as he ran a hand up and down her side.

"Now, let's continue shall we?" Hunter said before moving his hands down her body to her cunt, dipping two of his fingers in. (Y/N) moaned as Hunter pulled his fingers out, moving them up to her tighter hole before pushing them in. (Y/N) groaned at the feeling, her asshole being stretched once again, Hunters fingers feeling amazing inside of her. Hunter smirked and dipped two fingers from his other hand into her pussy, scissoring them a bit before pulling them out and moving them along side his other fingers in her ass.

Hunter began to fuck her ass with four of his fingers, stretching her out and open. (Y/N) moaned loudly at the feeling of Hunter stretching her open, both her entrances abused and leaking. Soon he removed his fingers from his right hand and replaced them with all the others on his left, his right hand moving to her pussy again.

Before (Y/N) could fully register what was happening, she felt Hunter push his right fist into her core before his left fist slowly made its way into her ass. (Y/N) screamed in pleasure as Hunter began to move his fists in a pleasuring rhythm. Hunter smirked and picked up the pace of his movements, fingering her fast.

"FUCK! YES sir! Fuck yes! THanK yOu!" (Y/N) screamed and came on Hunter's fists. Hunter pulled both his fists from her holes, watching as they opened and closed rapidly in time with (Y/N)'s breathing. They were red and gaping, having been stretched open by him in the shower to start and now here.

"That was fucking hot baby," Hunter moaned. He flipped himself over and slid under (Y/N)’s hips, pulling her down onto his mouth. (Y/N) moaned as Hunter began to furiously eat her out, lapping his tongue up and down her holes, cleaning her dripping juices. (Y/N) moaned again before she got an idea, sitting up on shaking knees as best she could before tapping Hunter’s head twice from between her knees.

Immediately Hunter stopped and slid out from beneath sat up, holding her in his arms and pulling the blindfold from her face, "Is everything okay doll? What colour?" He asked. (Y/N) smiled and rested one of her hands on his.

"Green, sergeant. But I want to pleasure you too," she said, love, lust and desire swirling in her eyes. Hunter smiled and kissed her forehead, knowing exactly what she wanted to do. He flipped them around and rested his head against the pillows, pulling (Y/N)'s legs towards his head again.

(Y/N) positioned her cunt right over his mouth, her face right above his raging hard cock. It was very well above average in both Length and girth, leaking precum from the very angry red tip. She smiled and leaned down, kissing his cock before taking it in her mouth. Hunter moaned and dove back into her cunt, slurping up her juices as if they were the only thing keeping him alive.

(Y/N) moaned around Hunter and began to bob her head up and down on him, deepthroating him as far as she could. 69 was one of their favourite positions, pleasuring one another at the same time as much as they wanted. They were both givers, their time spent apart making them starve for each other. They continued their ministration to one another until (Y/N) felt Hunter twitch. She hollowed her cheeks and began to suck harder until she felt Hunter moan against her and release his load into her mouth. She swallowed all that he gave her before, rapidly yet carefully dismounting from Hunters face.

Before Hunter could process what was happening, (Y/N) had pinned his hands above his head and began to kiss his neck and chest, nipping and sucking everywhere she could reach. Hunter moaned and tried to move his hands but found he couldn't, even with all his strength. It was no secret that (Y/N) was strong, she was almost as strong as him but because of his injury he wasn’t at his full strength.

"I'm sorry sergeant but I can't take it anymore, I need you inside me," (Y/N) moaned and lifted herself above Hunter’s already hardened cock before sinking down. Both let out a loud moan and (Y/N) began to bounce on him, riding him like she knew he loved. Hunter moaned and began to buck his hips up in time to meet hers, increasing the pleasure for both of them.

It wasn't long until Hunter flipped them over again, (Y/N) on her back as Hunter drilled into her. Their moans mixed together as their hands linked together and held onto one another, their breaths mixing together. They were making love, not just having sex. They always made love even in the most heated moments.

Once again Hunter flipped her over so (Y/N) was now on her stomach, expertly making sure that he never left her pussy. Hunter stopped for a moment and moved his tip to her ass, teasing it for a second before pushing in all the way. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling, gripping the sheets beneath her till her fingers turned white. It felt so good to have him inside he again.

"What colour ner cyare?" Hunter breathed out as he leaned down to her ear again. (Y/N) was breathing heavily but managed out a breathless 'green', and that's all Hunter needed. He pounded into to her faster and harder before pulling out again and plunging back into her pussy. He thrusted into her roughly until she screamed and came for the....she had lost count of how many but it felt so good.

Hunter held her hand as he thrusted one final time into her before letting out a guttural moan and releasing his load deep into her throbbing cunt. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling before Hunter collapsed on top of her. She smiled as Hunter rolled off of her, pulling out of her before pulling her into his arms, kissing her shoulders and neck, coaxing her back to reality.

"You were so good cyar’ika. You were such a good girl for your sergeant," He whispered, rubbing gentle circles all around her body. (Y/N) smiled and slowly rolled over to face Hunter, placing a gentle kiss to his lips before snuggling up to his chest.

"Welcome home Sergeant."

—————

I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[redux-iterum]

how do i outline coherently. i am struggling

I'm going to assume you have an idea of how the story goes already, you just need to actually write it down. Which is the most difficult part of this whole thing, for me, so I feel your pain.

If this is the case: My game plan is to first outline in a way that will be most helpful for me, in order to get it written out at all. Iterum is written more coherently for Lynx's sake, but my original content is an organized mess, which is perfect for me. It doesn't matter if it's scatterbrained - the important thing is that I know what's going on and it makes it easier to outline to completion. You can refine it later. Just get it done.

You know that phrase, "Write drunk, edit sober"? Take that metaphorically. Write like a damn maniac with as little cohesion as is needed, and then come back to it and organize it into something anyone can read, if you care to.

My tactics:

Use bullets like this to write down each story beat and minor event. This makes it easier to rearrange things if I have to in the future.

--------You can also add additional, smaller bullets to each big bullet with as many details as you need to add on for context.

Color code words and characters, especially in big, bulky paragraphs. This makes it easier than just a Ctrl+F on a Google doc - you can scroll down quickly and catch wherever a character is without having to click "next" a bunch.

If blocks of text automatically overwhelm your brain, cut down paragraphs into two or three sentences. (Thank you to @thunder-the-ranger-wolf for helping me with this one recently.)

As you're writing the events, make notes with -dashes- or (parenthesis) or even bullets that will tell you something important that you don't want to forget. Things like "this weapon will be used by Jack later on when he's rushed into the room for safety", or "note that Howard should look tense and anxious in reaction to this conversation", or even just "add a flashback here once the first arc is outlined and I know what details I need to hint at". You'd be amazed at how much shit people (especially me) will forget about that's small but crucial to the story, because they're writing the big events for extended periods.

If you get intimidated by a loooong synopsis that you've been working on for a while and still isn't done, just catch up on the last few paragraphs or single page that you've written and then continue from there. You may repeat events or contradict a previous plotpoint, though, just as a warning. I handle that issue when the outline is done and it's time to refine it; I also like to reread everything frequently on an off day without writing anything new to catch those mistakes.

In the event that the above happens and a plot point is written twice, be aware that whatever choice you make on where to actually place it could drastically change the rest of the plot going forward. If you hate rewriting stuff, that'll be annoying.

Stuck on where to go next? Make a new paragraph with a single sentence that reads, "something happens here", and then move on to the stuff you can more easily write down. My preference is to be a little detailed about it: "something happens here that gets Joy from the cafe to the wrong neighborhood", and then writing about what happens in the wrong neighborhood. It's surprisingly a lot easier to figure out the transitional events like this once you have a specific A and B point to connect.

Have multiple docs to write and rewrite on. You don't have to write in one and then fix it over and over. Just write down what you have and are confident in so far, and move to the next document if ideas change or you're getting frustrated and need to start over. You'd be surprised at how helpful this is. It's like sketching something poorly and then redrawing it in a better and better state with new pages of paper. Hell, you can even trace stuff you liked from the first page and add it into the next version.

In the case of my first webcomic, when I didn't know what the fuck I was doing and events had to be rearranged all the time due to the nature of the storytelling, I resorted to using an art program (in my case, MS Paint) to write very short summaries of story beats and outright organize them in a visual format. I am not kidding about this. I straight up just used my mouse to put plot points here and there, and then change them around if something sounded better over at the beginning instead of the middle. It was shockingly helpful. It looks silly, but if you're an image person instead of a word person (as I am), it's a very easy way to visualize exactly what the fuck's going on in the outline.

Now let's say you complete the outline and it is a cobweb of chaos. Excellent. All you have to do now is write everything down in an outline similar to a Wikipedia summary. Translating "Stan says this -> everyone hears a gunshot" into "Stan angrily declares that he's sick of his mistreatment. Before anyone can respond, a gunshot goes off outside" is surprisingly easy. Is this a bit tedious? Yes. Is it optional? Absolutely. Do I recommend it? Very much so.

I personally like to do it because it's a cleaner, more organized version of the mess I made earlier. It's especially helpful if you're going to have someone go over the outline and critique or question things. My version of a completed outline will have chapters as full paragraphs detailing what happens, like so:

Chapter EIGHT: The morning sun rises and Kel pulls himself out of bed with a hangover. He stumbles to the bathroom and tries to wash up before the headache gets to be too much and he lays down on the floor. Meanwhile, the front door opens and the burglar from the night before (this will be revealed to be Sarah in chapter 19) sneaks into the house. They decide to try and grab more stuff, even with the sound of footsteps and retching in the upstairs rooms being audible. Just as the burglar finds Kel's mother's necklace, Kel comes downstairs and, seeing a stranger in his house, immediately confronts them.

Then on to chapter nine, and so on.

That's all I got for now. Hope this helps!

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m in the early stages of character development and am thinking of making a character in my story use crutches or some type of mobility aid (I have not decided a specific disability yet, or the specifics of their mobility aids, but one disability I am considering is EDS).

There is going to be action in the story that will require characters to be moving a lot, and running, and fighting, etc.

I wanted to ask if you have any tips for writing physically disabled characters in these types of situations? What are ways to make them be able to participate in the action but also be mindful of their disability?

Also, if the character fully consents to it, would it be ok for another character to pick them up and run in a dangerous situation where they need to get away fast?

Thank you!

Hello!

It would really depend on the character's disability and what mobility aids they use.

Depending on how severe theirs is, somebody with EDS may be able to run and fight with the right accommodations on their end (Braces can help with stabilizing their joints and preventing hyperextension, pain medication can help control pain/discomfort, proper first aid and care afterwards can help manage swelling/pain/further damage, etc.).

If your character isn't able to participate in the fighting at all, give them something else to do that uses their other talents! Give them an important mission or task while the others are fighting. Maybe they need to retrieve an important piece of evidence while their opponents are distracted by the fighting. Maybe there's an important code to break or a puzzle to solve in the meantime. Just don't have them be standing off to the side awkwardly -- make them as important as everyone else is.

Something I find enjoyable, especially in books, is a character using their cane in a fight in a small way. This is usually something like the character using it to trip an opponent or using it to smack somebody's shin. Depending on the type of cane they use, it may not be the most realistic, but I do enjoy it and it makes me cackle :). That being said, you do need to be careful with showing mobility aids being used as weapons.

In terms of being carried, it's really hit or miss. I've seen it done well a few times and -- more frequently -- I've seen it done in ways that still makes me physically cringe when I think about it.

If it's used to further an underlying plot such as a developing romance or friendship between the two characters, I think it can be a sweet way to show the development of trust between them and -- if it's part of a romance -- can lead to a cute scene later on.

My personal issue with it is when it comes out of the blue and is out of character for one or both parties. Most people wouldn't be comfortable with a stranger or an acquaintance picking them up and carrying them. Hell, a lot of people would even be uncomfortable with a good friend doing it. I certainly would be.

There's also the fact that carrying another human being is a hard thing to do, especially if you're running and (Caps) ESPECIALLY (End Caps) if you're running for a while. If the disabled character is rather light or small and the other character is very physically fit, maybe it can work on a physical scale but there's other things to consider here.

This is also a bit of a loaded trope for physically disabled characters. A lot of us are used to people -- particularly strangers -- violating our body autonomy. There are people that will push wheelchair users or attempt to "guide" blind people to where they want to go, reach directly over the heads of little people, touch or take mobility aids, etc. This isn't necessarily what's happening in your story, but it is something to be aware of.

If you do decide to go with this, make sure to see it through and address anything that may come from it. How does your disabled character feel about it? How has the dynamic between your characters changed -- if at all? If it hasn't changed at all, why is that? Do the characters feelings towards each other change?

I'd also consider what other options they may have. Is there another way to escape the dangerous situation? Is there somewhere they can hide? Is there a way to face the threat head-on? Is there another way they can escape without the disabled character being carried? If not, why?

The biggest thing I can say it to keep your disabled audience in mind. Who are you writing this scene for? What's the purpose of the scene? If the scene's purpose has anything to do with making the non-disabled character look good, show them to be strong/heroic/brave/etc., don't do it. Find another way.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[skxllz]

“ 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬. ”

carl gallagher x fem! reader

warnings; mention of death & reference to death. sad, grieving reader. mentions of pregnancy. takes place after season 11. real tear-jerker plot, angst.

side note; I'm traumatizing myself by writing this so I apologize in advance to everyone else lmao.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

the photo between your fingertips felt crisp... a warmth that was once brought by it now gone. your touch was cold, but the sleek lining of the polaroid was colder. no longer a brightening memory, just a numb remembrance of what shouldve lasted.

tears drizzled down your cheeks like rain on a window pane, dripping over the shininess of the photo that reflected light off of it from the moon above. as you stared at it - smiles and laughter and joy in a moment that felt like just yesterday - you couldn't stop the continuous ache in your chest from increasing. throbbing, and growing, like a large damn tumor. It was painful.

a hiccup escaped your mouth from the oncoming sob that bubbled from your throat. you slapped a hand to your mouth, silencing yourself, squeezing your eyes shut while the tears kept flowing.

it wasn't until you sniffled did you gain the idea.

shaky digits sat the photo down, beside you, onto the sleek wooden planks of the porch. the droplets of rain that stuck to the porch bled through the polaroid, but you were too distracted to notice; grabbing for your phone out of the pocket of your coat.

you switched the screen on and the white glow blinded you through blurry vision, yet you didn't mind. fingers moved quickly in typing in the code to your phone, before you accessed your contacts.

you scrolled, and scrolled, up until you came across his name.

thumb hovering over the highlighted contact hesitantly, before pressing down onto the screen. the screen flashed, before the dial screen loaded; making you lift the phone to your ear.

your sniffles were silent while you painlessly waited through the rings of the other line.

one ring. your breathing came out shaky. heartbeat picking up, startling you.

two rings. your hands were shaking more. you nearly dropped your phone, but managed to squeeze it tighter into your palm.

three rings. you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying more.

finally, you were met with nothing but a voice box.

“ hey! It's carl. ” a wobbly grin etched onto your lips at the sound of his voice. “ I probably can't come to the phone right now — stop it, debbie! — but I'll get back to you as soon as i can, alright? just leave a number and name! ”

the phone beeped, signaling for a message to record...

“ hey, carl. ” your voice was scratchy as you spoke form all the sobbing you had done previously. It made you laugh, the irony, “ it's... It's me. It's y/n. ”

you paused, swallowing down your saliva. it was so hard to speak, to think. you had no clue what to say — yet you had so much to say.

“ I don't even know where to start, ” your voice cracked, head angling down as you looked to your feet. you were wearing the vans carl had bought you... “ I just- I just really miss you, ya’ know? ”

you let out a sniffling, pain filled laugh. it was hard not to. the way you were only making the pain worse? you were such a fool.

“ I can't... ” an intake of a large full of air, “ it's just hard to accept that you're gone, ya’ know? I.. when we saw it on the news last week... ”

you had to press a hand to your mouth for a moment. breathing becoming ragged, continuously coming out in short yet fast puffs. you felt as if your lungs would burst.

then, you continued, “ I just couldn't believe it. neither could debbie, or lip, or liam, or Ian.... ” swallowing thickly, you let out a noise of distress. “ or fiona. fiona came back, carl. she was going to surprise you, but you were working- and then the shooting happened- ”

by now, your lips were curling in; cheeks indenting from the rough burrow the motion created between your teeth and the corners of your mouth.

“ why the fuck did you have to leave? ” you sobbed, pressing your hand to your forehead; fingertips bending inward and nails digging into your upper palm. “ why? why?! you- you couldn't have just taken off that day?! ”

the raising of your voice caught the attention of the neighbors, but of course you didn't mind - didn't care. the hallow, yet cramping pit in your stomach is the only thing you were focused on.

your shoulders shook. arms trembled. legs shuffled, until your feet were pressing together. it was hard to calm down, especially with the loathing anger you felt, but... you managed to after a moment.

just sitting there, breathing in and out. In and out. and then sniffing loudly, to clear your nose of the clog.

“ .. I got the blue roses. ” you whispered, voice raw and raspy. your hand was combing though hair, giving your scalp a thick scratch to relieve stress. “ the ones you ordered me the day before... I love them. they're.. they're dying now, but I'm gonna’ press ‘em in a photo album. ”

you licked your chapped lips.

more tears threatened to fall, but you quickly wiped them away.

“ ... and, there's something I didn't get to tell you. ” a shaky exhale was taken, with a small tremble of your hand - it moved, gliding across your jacketed arm before squeezing. trying to comfort yourself.

“ I'm pregnant, ” you croaked, “ have been for a few weeks now. I... I haven't told the family, either. I wanted to tell you first. ”

pausing.

“ of course, it's too late for that... ”

that's when the phone beeped twice, signifying the recording went on for too long. you squeezed your eyes shut then, biting your bottom lip. frustration, sadness, pity - you felt it all and then some in between.

the urge to throw your phone flooded your veins, but you didn't. not with a comforting hand meeting your shoulder.

you looked up, only to see a familiar brunette.

turning your head, you silently averted your gaze away from the female; her presence welcome, always is, but you didint have the strength to greet her. you were just too... tired.

“ ... It'll be okay. ” fiona said after a moment. she too was looking straight ahead as she sat - not at anything particular, just simply basking in the night air and after-chills of the rain that had passed. her eyes seemed dead, not lively and excited like they were when she first arrived...

I mean, how could she be happy? her brother passed away... before she could even see him again.

“ how? ” you sniffed, letting out a chuckle that held so many emotions - but the number one thing that stood out, was disbelief. “ how could it be okay, fi? my boyfriend's dead. ”

“ and so is my brother. ” she dryly replied. It came out a bit harsh, but that was the reality of it. you weren't the only one to lose someone.

and she knew that, which is why her arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you close. she felt like crying, but stayed strong - she always had to. “ it'll be okay, because we all have each other. we'll get through this together. ”

her words were met with silence. “ ya’ know, ” as tears gathered over her waterline, fiona chuckled drastically, “ I remember the first time carl told us about you. said he swore he was gonna’ marry you one day. ”

“ he did? ” you mumbled, eyes downcasted towards your touching knees. she nodded in response, with a hum.

“ yes. ” she bit the inside of her cheek, “ I couldn't believed my ears... we all thought he was nuts. ”

you hummed a laugh, the tears sticking to your cheeks and lashes slowly drying up. “ he was... very nuts. I never did get a ring, so I guess he was just yappin’ like always, huh? ”

a reply was never given. several seconds passed by, before you pushed yourself off of fiona and looked at her expectedly.

she was already looking at you, a look of fondness and soft, sisterly love in her doe eyes.

“ what? ” you questioned quietly. your eyes were darting between her own, and then over her face, and then down-

a small, black, velvet box was in her palm.

you sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes widening with disbelief at the object in fiona's hand. your lungs... they felt like they were burning. like you were drowning.

your heart beat... It picked up vastly.

and your brain - you couldn't think, it was blanking at this point.

carl... he was going to propose to you?

[respectthepetty]

Interesting to have you thoughts on WHY we love the pain and angst in the Unknown series? and we are not getting the ick instead?

I’m trying to explain it to people without just saying “because they do it so well” you know?

Anon, I can't tell you why YOU like Unknown or why anyone else likes it, but I can tell you why I like it since therapy has shown me the beauty of introspection.

I'm a kinky queer who trusts Taiwan.

And just like kink, this show isn't ONLY about the pain and the angst.

Note that I'm not writing about this in a sexual way nor am I writing that this show is kinky. No. I'm writing that I like it because it resonates with me, a queer kinkster.

And by "ick," I think you mean the brothers-not-brothers plot since that ties into the pain and angst aspect.

Not to get too psychological or philosophical, but the pain of the show gives me pleasure. Especially because I know the pain won't last. There is an end point; therefore, there is a release. And once the show is over, I won't be left with this horrible scar of unhappiness but I might be left with some bruises that remind me the pain was worth it for the happy ending.

Also, much like being queer and kinky, this plot is a taboo subject.

And I like that!

The show is treating the subject with respect. The show has established that Yuan and Qian ARE brothers. They call each other "brother," they have their little sister, and the world sees them as brothers.

Yet they aren't blood-related, which is a point that San Pang mentioned when he told Lili not to get too close to Yuan, and people were upset that he said it, but it is the same argument people use to excuse Yuan's feelings for his brother.

And just like kink, the show makes me think about that grey area of life between consenting adults because nothing is ever black and white. Yuan asked San Pang what was wrong with him loving Qian, and we will see the fallout from San Pang dating Lili when he has openly considered Qian family. People have questioned what is different between the two relationships, and the show will question it as well.

This show is asking the audience to reflect, so I feel safe with this show punishing me with so much pain which is a big aspect of kink. I wouldn't tolerate pain from a show I don't feel safe with (Game of Thrones, I'm looking at your ass!). I trust the show to deal with this taboo subject with respect because Taiwanese BLs have consistently dealt with this subject with respect. As much as people hated HIStory 4: Close to You, it didn't shy away from the brothers plot or the sexual assault. Both were treated seriously within the show.

And it did the same with Kiseki: Dear to Me.

And the other Taiwanese BLs it's been used in.

So I've never had the ick factor that others have regarding this particular subject or been bothered by the level of pain it brings, but perhaps Addicted toughened me up because the way China dishes out sad "bromances" due to censorship, I suspect there is a connection there between the "brothers" to lovers plot that transfers into Taiwanese dramas.

Because if you have to hide love behind a wall of being "bros," it makes sense that it would 1) be painful, and 2) be queer-coded since a happy ending wouldn't be realistic.

And yet Taiwan continues to deliver a happy ending with this type of plot.

So yeah, I like the pleasure that will come with all this pain. I like that it leans into historical and cultural queer coding while being explicitly queer. And I like that it's Taiwanese handling it.

That's why I like it.

But, once again, I have no idea why others do.

[raisedbythetv89]

joss's sick obsession with not just causing pain and suffering - but punishment and humiliation to his "pretty popular girl" archetype characters aka Buffy and Cordelia and his favoritism of the most horrible mediocre white men aka riley, xander, and angel is never more apparent than in Into the Woods

The writers opted not for the FANTASTIC call back to season 1 with owen and Never Kill a Boy on the First Date when Buffy says "two days in my world and owen really would get himself killed…. or I'd get him killed… or someone else...."

which set them up perfectly for the road map of Buffy's attempt at a "normal" relationship that angel, her mother, and the scoobies keep trying to push her to have (when she's not normal herself so of course it's gonna be a disaster which is soooooo trying to force a queer person to be straight coded which is why spuffy is inherently queer on top of them both being canonically bisexual because Buffy embracing her love of Spike is embracing her inherent queerness)

But could you IMAGINE how amazing it would have been for season 1 to have foreshadowed riley being turned at the suck house (because literally all that evil in Sunnydale and NO ONE takes the opportunity to turn the slayer's boyfriend into the perfect secret weapon to take her and her whole family out??? PLEASE)

Then vamp riley almost killing Dawn and her mother (because Dawn would be the one tricked into inviting him in as a call back to Dawn accidentally inviting Harmony in and Buffy saying she's gonna get us all killed plus angel tricking his little sister into inviting him in once he was turned)

Buffy is forced to kill him after pleading with him to remember he loves her or any part of who he was (which would further show how exceptional Spike's ability to form a truce with Buffy, keep it, and fall in love with her all without a soul is)

Making riley her second (third if we count ford being left for dead and then having to dust him) turned evil boyfriend she's forced to kill.

Buffy would still be DEVASTATED and it's Buffy so she'd still punish and blame herself even though it'd be all riley's fault (demonstrating how this storyline would still cause immense pain for Buffy and be very high stakes drama for the plot but again joss elected for humiliation having Buffy literally chase after the man who was cheating on her with vampires while she was dealing with a sick mother and a hell god after her sister. Favoring a white man's character over the best plot line)

All while also further setting up her and Spike's relationship because of the "if that's what I wanted I'd be dating Spike" of it all which was her basically saying if I didn't want normal, Spike would be who I'd choose and now she's tried to be normal and he got killed, almost killed her family and then she had to kill him just like season 1 Buffy knew would happen when she broke things off with owen!!

AND the poetic irony of her trying to be “normal” and it ends with the exact same result?? The lesson being that rejecting who you are is not the answer and the only true answer is self acceptance because pain will happen no matter what so might as well love and embrace yourself ???

BUT NOOOOOOO the writers aka joss opted for riley's narrative to be that he's a hero and a good guy always, no matter what because joss has a big fat crush on marc and guys like him, angel and oz all get written off by treating women like shit without being villainized for it at all and then leaving. Getting to go on to live rich and fulfilling lives while Kendra, Tara, Cordy, and Anya are all violently killed off with barely any time spent grieving their deaths by more than one character..... (I haven't ever been able to finish ats so I don't know how much this applies to cordy's but my guess is the pattern didn't change much)

THEY EVEN LOOK THE SAME FOR CHRIST’S SAKE IT WRITES ITSELF

[sinon36]

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part I

Warnings: torture, blood, pain, unconscious Ghost and basically kinda useless, really capable YOU persona ;), rushed writing, possible mistakes, reader is pretty neutral so far

P.S. Don’t judge the unexplained inconsistency of how a guy like Ghost gets captured, but spy you get to waltz around unbothered, yeah, you’re that good, so good you got plot armour. Besos!   

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the first time you meet it's messy. He's supposed to extract an agent from behind enemy lines but instead he gets captured

-  you pose as a computer science PhD who is in charge of the enemy base cyber security, when in reality you're there to install a backdoor with remote access.

- you know someone should come to help make your exit, but when no infiltration is reported panic starts to rise in your chest

- you start investigating, searching through the facility trying to find out if something happened.

- you gain access to a part of the facility you don't have clearance for.

- you stumble upon a gruesome scene in one of the holding cell in the underground levels

- you find a man tied to the ceiling, bare feet barely touching the floor, muscles stretching under the tension ready to snap

- a black hood is thrown over his head and he's shirtless, remnants of once black cargo pants hang on his hips.

- he was tortured, for days by looks of it

- you know enough about that to know that he hasn't cracked yet, otherwise he'd be dead not hanging there in the damp cold cell.

- you take your chances and take the hood off

- he groggily turns his head to look down at you, he’s a big that much you can say

- blonde whisps of hair matted to his scalp stained a dark red, pale skin the same blood oozing from small cuts on his cheeks dripping down on his pectorals. From behind black and blue and inflammation two brown eyes scan your face

- 'the wolf walks alone' you quietly utter the code phrase for identity verification

- he watches you like an owl watches a mouse with cautious patience but he gives no indication that he'll answer

- you can't stay there too long; someone might catch you here or someone could report that you never came back from the bathroom break

- you reach for the hood to place it back on the prisoner’s head, knowing that you can't do anything for him and in this state he can't even provide a distraction for you to slip out unnoticed

-as you get closer tiptoeing to reach above his head he grunts, you stop in your tracks making eye contact

- his dried and busted lips start to quiver you wait for a moment giving him a chance to prove you wrong

- 'But the pack's got its back...' he draws out in a deep guttural voice laced with a thick Manchester accent

- phrase matching your own, you get to work hastily finding a way to get him down

- as you unlock the chains wounded around his wrists you try to support his weight which proves impossible

- you barely manage to break his fall turning yourself in a cushion under his massive form

- you huff and try to pull him up ' I can't carry you' you mutter to him. 'You gotta get up, soldier' you try and nudge him, you slip and talk in the familiar British accent

- he stalls, taking in deep breaths trying to surpass the pain and ache, multiple bones broken, muscles tumefied, and skin bearing to many cuts and bruises. Blood covers him like a deathly veil

- he tries and with your help he manages to stand but he can barely walk on his own, he can barely see, he can barely think, having sustained multiple concussions

- with great difficulty you get moving, praying to yourself that the guard might be gone, taking a piss or having a smoke

- your prayers are answered, no one is on the otherwise busy hallways this late at night, many having called it a night going back to their rooms

- as you pass the med bay your quick thinking finds a credible disguise: you steal a lab coat and a doctor's key card, some glasses that make your vision blurry once you put them on, and get the wounded soldier in a wheel chair

-he huffs but you can clearly see the relief overtaking him as he no longer has to stand

-you throw a medical gown over him concealing the dried blood on his bare torso

-once you clean his face a little and bandage his whole head to cover his identity, you grab a few bottles of morphine and a med kit for later and push the wheelchair out the door

- you aim for the underground parking lot, where civilians’ workers such as your cover, keep their personal cars

-you hope that the sentinels stationed at the gates won't look too closely at your backseat as you carefully push the wounded man in the car

- everything goes smooth from there, the guards wishing you a good night, no questions ask as to your departure from the base

- once you get farther away you start speeding eyeing for any police cars that might stop you or any military vehicle that might chase you

- to your dumb surprise no one follows you the mountain road dark and deserted

- you head to your safehouse where you have stashed money, fake id's, a new disguise and another car.

- once you change everything and make sure that the soldier still breathes in the back of the SUV, after you've administered some first help giving him the relief of morphine, you burn everything down

- the wooden house the other car, everything, nothing can be left behind to be tracked to you or to the MI6, you have taken precautions that borderline OCD, but you know that you have to be through, no detail to small

- once you're back on the road you contact your handler, a tired voice but you can hear the sound of relief as he hears your voice

- he's pleased that everything went smooth, no alarm was triggered, no shot was fired, no chase happened and you even managed to save your would-be saviour, sent specifically to get you out of that den of wolves

- you announce your E.T.A. to the agreed pickup location and you are annoyed to hear you'll have to wait a bit, your nerves are starting to fray, and body to tire

- you don't have the manpower nor the firepower to make a stand in the woods until the heli gets there

-but you do as you're told, as always

- you grab the pistol you keep under the passenger seat and place it in your lap; the heaviness in your lap gives very little reassurance

- but not long passes and you can hear the lovely sound of an Apache helicopter

- in a whirlwind of dust and voices shouting out instructions both you and the soldier are placed in the metal beast's bowls

-you inform the medics of the dosage of morphine you gave to the soldier as they start hooking him to machines that monitor his vital signs

-you don't even know his name and he definitely doesn't know yours as per protocol, and you doubt you'll ever see him again

-you won't even be there when he'll wake up, he'll probably never know of your act of kindness; you could have left him behind but instead you risked your safety for his

- any other agent would've done it, but not you, you couldn't leave one of your own behind

- you still hold your breath, eager to cross the border and get back to HQ where meetings and debriefs will be held, and rapports will be written then redacted

-you expect the compliments at a job well done and the proud pats on the back from your superiors, even though for you that's just a show

- you know you will get a free month at best to recover and then you'll be shipped somewhere else to do it all over again

- it's a lonely life, and full of danger but it makes you sleep better at night knowing you helped soil some plans that could be used to hurt innocents

- once the pilot announces that you crossed the borders you slightly relax on the padded bench, closing your eyes in relief but not allowing yourself to fall asleep yet

- when you feel the heli dipping down towards the tarmac you open your eyes eager to get off the noisy thing and looking forward for some commodities you know wait ready inside the base

- you watch as the soldier gets rolled toward the med bay and you get pulled by a Sargent that informs you, he's there to take you to the commander of the base

- you'd hopped to at least get a few hours of sleep before the rounds of interrogations start, but the higher-ups are hungry for the confirmation of a successful mission

- you trudge behind the Sargent mentally preparing for the onslaught of questions and can't help but wonder what of the wounded soldier

-you subconsciously hope he'll pull through

Next part here.

[thedemonsurfer]

hey uuuh im procrastinating on other things so let's write a big ol' essay about

Eclipse 3.1, and Why Moon Is Doing a Disservice By Writing Him Off As "Insane*"

*insane in this context being the definition of 'acting erratic and unpredictable with no regard to consequences' and not an actual mental illness diagnosis, I know, I wish they'd pick a different word too, but this is an essay about Eclipse's behavior, not linguistics

So! If you've only been sorta keeping up with SAMS, the current plot is someone (we still don't know who) revived everyone's favorite dusty Dorito that had been forgotten under the couch, slapped him on the ass, and pointed him at the Daycare. This has made a lot of people (in universe) very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move, even by Eclipse.

Especially by Eclipse.

Our buddy boy has magic (dunno how), incomplete memories of both the original Eclipse and the backup (no clue how he got those), and directives embedded in his code that can't be removed without killing him (¯\_(ツ)_/¯). He literally woke up in the hallway outside the Daycare and then went inside and started monologuing.

Eclipse wants to find the person who brought him back, maybe or maybe not ask some questions, and then kill them.

He reeeeeally wants to kill them.

(This whole arc honestly boils down to Eclipse grabbing various folks and shaking them while screaming "ARE YOU MY MOMMY?!")

In recent eps Moon has accused him of going 'insane', mostly due to his insistence on picking fights and threatening others, and that he cannot shut up about wanting to get the guy that made him. He very recently picked a fight with Lunar, who killed him again-- and proved at the moment he can't be killed permanently, he'll just come back in a new body.

Huh.. fighting a programmed compulsion, becoming more erratic and aggressive over time, breakdown of logic and reasoning... That seems kind of familiar...

Oh yeah! This is Eclipse's kill code. I'm calling it the 'bother code', but 'cringecode' and 'pain-in-the-ass code' aren't off the table. Unlike Moon's kill code, the expression seems to be 'be a distraction to Moon' rather than like, outright murdering people.

Like the kill code, fighting the compulsion seems to make his behavior more unstable. Because here's the thing: Eclipse isn't stupid.

Well.

Okay, Eclipse is stupid, but not... like this.

Eclipse is a manipulator. His thing has always been to recruit others to help him achieve his goal, and he's patient about it. He's willing to work for months on someone, and while he does shoot himself in the foot eventually, it's usually more indirectly than this. Moon is currently helping him search for the guy, it makes no sense for Eclipse to continue posturing and threatening.

Except-- that's his only outlet right now.

The "I need to find the guy who made me"? That's Eclipse's goal, the one he's pursing with all the stubbornness he has.

The "hey what if I killed or maimed some of your family"? That's the directives.

What we're seeing with Eclipse's behavior is him desperately trying to keep himself on track, when the bother code is trying to yank him in another direction. Threatening Moon so he'll 'work faster' is an outlet, a way for him to briefly pacify the code while redirecting it back into his own goal. He knows it's a stupid suggestion, but he's going to make it anyway because he has no choice.

I think he feels like he's running out of time as well. Because Eclipse can be patient, but he gets frustrated and short tempered the closer he gets to a deadline (this is why I believe he started being meaner to Lunar-- he was frustrated about not finding the star and had given himself only a month to do it).

So like.. yeah. I don't think he's going 'insane' or 'losing his mind'. I think he's fighting a losing battle against his own programming, and taking the frustration and panic out on everyone else. Because the kill code couldn't be fought off indefinitely, eventually the bot would crack under it. And it'd be nice if Moon could acknowledge that Eclipse's behavior isn't entirely voluntary, and he IS I think honestly doing his best-- he outright came to them for help, something he's never done before.

Idk maybe they need to let Eclipse put Moon in a stupid trap again for an ep to get it out of his system so he can chill out for a while.

A sidenote! Its interesting to me that Eclipse's behavior in the coming back ep seemed to be erratic only as long as Moon was present. Once Moon left, Eclipse changed gears in how he was talking to Solar, and had some very classic "you know you're better than this, don't you want to go apeshit?" lines. The kind of thing that we've seen from the previous Eclipse incarnations. Dunno yet if it means anything, but it's interesting!

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Some book recs

In the wake of some stuff that's crossed my dash recently, here's a post of professionally-published non-fanfiction books I remember quite fondly. I'll do a post on books I didn't like later. This post got long.

Highly Recommended (means nothing more than I loved reading them myself, and genres vary):

The Coldfire Trilogy by C.S. Friedman (includes Black Sun Rising, When True Night Falls, and Crown of Shadows) - My favorite fantasy work of all time. Spectacular characters, world-building, and plot. The editing could have been better, but I'll accept a few grammatical errors for a story of this quality.

House of Leaves - PURE TERROR and lots of codes hidden in the book. There's no other book like it. This one is high on my list for a reason.

The Last Unicorn - The language in this is absolutely gorgeous. Poetic. It's also down-to-earth in many ways and goes out of its way to world-build unexpectedly. It's also scary, and the characters are excellent.

Ethan Frome - Okay, Edith Wharton, just rip my heart out and stomp on it a thousand times and pour pickle juice and donut-sugar on it to make sure it hurts enough. Holy shit. You people who like to make your blorbos in huge emotional pain? Yeah, this book.

A Canticle for Leibowitz - A truly extraordinary book about a post-nuclear-apocalyptic world. Written almost like a series of short stories taking you further and further into the future. I have seen Sci-fi shows and movies copy this book shamelessly (including Fallout and Star Trek DS9).

Moby Dick - This book is fricking hilarious. I don't know who started saying it was a boring guide to life on a whaling boat, but whoever they were didn't share my sense of humor. Obviously, nasty stuff happens in it, too.

Things Fall Apart - This book was so striking and heartbreaking pieces of it break into my consciousness in random moments.

Hickory Dickory Dock (by Agatha Christie) - I recommend all her Poirot mysteries, but this one I found particularly riveting.

The Scarlet Letter - Wow. I have no other words. Painful in the best way.

More Than Human - (By Theodore Sturgeon, if the title's not distinctive enough). A very short but freaky book about a group of people who can't function well alone at all, but as a group their individual superhuman abilities turn them into a SUPERsuperhuman. Really interesting read.

Lord of the Flies - Truly horrifying and realistic-feeling glimpse of unregulated animalistic behavior.

Song of Solomon - Heartbreaking yet in a down-to-earth "of course" way. I felt like I was reading about real people living in my neighborhood.

Dragon's Blood (and the rest of the trilogy that follows it - by Jane Yolen in case there are multiple works with this title) - A really good story about a boy both coming of age and coming out of slavery.

Pride and Prejudice - This was a major inspiration for me deciding to go ahead and try writing Link's Thought Brambles the way I did. It's almost entirely dialogue. It works anyway. Also, the PLOT!!

Dragonsong (by Anne McCaffrey) - While in a sci-fi setting in that it's on another planet and includes tiny, adorable dragons, it's mostly a story about an abused teen who escapes and comes of age on her own.

Macbeth - A couple of awful people slowly getting what they deserve. It's freaky, too.

The Lord of the Rings - This one so goes without saying, I almost forgot to include it!

It - (Yes, the one by Stephen King). This is one of very few books that have ever actually scared me. It has one scene in it that is deeply disturbing in another way, and I make no excuses for that.

I'm sure there are lots more, but I'll just make another post as they come to me.

I have unhinged personal ramblings, too, but I'll save those for another post.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober Prompt 22: Stuck in line (jax)

list is here guys can you tell that i wrote down the opening to a lot of these and forget to go back to write a little note to make this section look less empty because i sure do LMAO plot: surely, he can behave in a slow moving line while everyone else is having fun on the adventure notes: reader is gn, not romantic, jax is being annoying and a dick, no real fluff and probably what would happen realistically if you were around him LMAO word count: 779 cws: none

When you and Jax were left to wait in a line while everyone else scrambled about to finish different tasks to complete the adventure, you didn't think it would be this bad. The landscape was like a winter wonderland, with various themed quests that needed to be done before the adventure could be completed. You and Jax got stuck with picking up some NPCs order in a shop. You could hardly call it an adventure.

"This bad" being a kind way to put it, as you were being pushed to your very wits end by the rabbit. The second you were both made to sit for this section of the adventure, he's been nothing but a pain... The way you were stuck with him vaguely felt like when a teacher would pair you with one of the rowdy kids. "To rub off on them and make them calm down"... you just wanted the line to pass so you could grab what you were looking for.

Jax wasn't exactly rowdy... but he knew how to get under your skin if it meant entertaining himself for the time being. He could just wander off and leave. There's nothing stopping him. Even if there was, he would still try... but he seems to take pleasure in resting his arms on the top of your head and talking, the movement of his words rocking you slightly as he swayed on his toes- putting a good chunk of his weight on you as he leaned down on top of you. Or saying anything he can to get any sort of reaction out of you- or better yet, get some information out of you that he could use later to push you to get something he wants down the line.

Your hands clench, before releasing. Then clenched again, and release. You did this a few more times as Jax verbally complained about how slow the line was moving as you both inched forward.

You had only been here for ten minutes but you were already nearing your wits end. Was this your personal hell? Was this a punishment for something you had done before arriving in the circus?

You work your teeth together and focus your eyes intensely into the back of an NPCs head. Another exits the line, moving you forward. Jax finally stops leaning on you and pushes himself to his full height behind you. You don't remove your eyes from the NPC, nearly fully tuning out Jax as he proclaimed his boredom.

If it weren't for him beginning to tap his foot on the ground, you could have; but between the previous show and the overwhelming feeling of just wanting to get this over with your patience finally gives.

"Why not just cut to the front? I'm shocked you haven't done that sooner," You hiss. He pauses, black eyes darting to you as his grin stretches wide.

The way his eyes squinted, you knew. He'd thought about it. He'd already decided he was going to do it before even getting in line with you.

He just wanted to see how long it would be until desperation pushed you to make a suggestion.

"Now why didn't I think of that!"

Fucker.

Without another word, he slaps his arm into the NPC and shoves them to the side with a swift motion. Then the next, and the next. Before long it was just the two of you in line. You take a sharp breath, relieved that it was finally coming to a close. You drag your feet across the tiled floor until you're about a foot behind Jax.

He snaps his fingers in the face of the NPC behind the counter, and your distaste for him drives deeper. Wordlessly, as if something had gone bugging with the coding thanks to Jax changing how things were meant to be, they put what you needed onto the counter.

A snow globe. Not anything to be crazy about, just a simple globe with a cabin and some trees inside. You only dully note that the "Santa" inside it was a mini Caine dressed up. Your mouth twists. Jax doesn't seem all that thrilled either. But he still takes it, rather carelessly. He passes it between his hands as it if were a ball, before walking off. You stand there alone before he calls for you over his shoulder, though it's clear he's not all that invested on if you decide to come with him or not.

You suck a breath between your teeth.

All of that torment, for a glass ball filled with water and glitter.

Your fists clench, before you spin around and sulk after Jax.