#holy fucking brain blast

[tame-a-messenger]

Oh no, man. I decided to watch the Damien episode of Perfect Person coz I only found out about it from the Angela appearance.

There's a part (around 2:45) where he says he booked the Starfield VA gig right when he first started at Smosh so with it coming out recently, it kinda bookended "this part of his internet life".

And I was like, WHAT DOES HE MEAN? IS HE LEAVING SMOSH??

<darthvader.gif> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

I find it interesting that he also says right before at (2:46) that he's trying to "Focus up, here soon" and since this Podcast was only 4months ago... Wonder what that means!

Ok ok joking aside I don't really think that's exactly what he meant by the things he said. I think he was mainly talking about doing more voice over work and "focus" on it more, not that he's going to fully leave Smosh.

He also says that he spent 5-6 yrs recording for that game, so that's why I think him saying "bookended this whole part of my internet life" is ONLY referring to him voicing over that game.

I'm also pretty sure "this whole" is (although it does sound like it could mean what you thought) almost definitely his southerner coming out, and what he meant was "the game coming out has bookended 5-6yrs worth of work for the voice over I did" not that he's quitting anything (I'm becoming the truth speaker of Damien Haas)

Holy shit bro, I'm getting good at this 'decoding whatever people assume Damien meant' stuff! I felt my skin glowing while I was trying to decipher what he meant lmao

I am become Truth, the Breaker of Assumptions

#Smoshblr #smosh #Damien Haas #holy fucking brain blast #I am become Truth breaker of assumptions #that might be the hardest thing I've ever written #dude honestly #im thinking about it rn and I think (weirdly enough) that if damien spoke more southern he wouldnt be as misunderstood all the time #he mixes in a lot of 'southerner' phrases that just dont come across the way he means them to #(I have a hyperfixation on how language and culture can change a persons personality) #whiles hes saying “this whole” he moves his hand around in a wiping motion #WHICH IF HE TALKED A LITTLE SLOWER AND WITH MORE OF HIS ACCENT COMES ACROSS EXACTLY LIKE I THINK HE MEANT IT #hes a southerner that has been infested with a cali accent while still keeping his way of phrasing which makes people confused #if this doesn't make any sense to you uuuhhhhhh my bad #but I think I cracked the case! #of why so many people mistake his intentions! #oh and of course I could be totally wrong and he is leaving smosh #but i dont think so

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

tumblr kinda killed the quality on this preview so click/tap for better quality! o__O I present to you, burgerbonz but it's that one "draw your lesbian otp" meme going around, heavily inspired by this art candychameleon drew of 2 characters from tf beast wars in the same pose! 🧡⚔💚

#botbots tag 🏪 #kin tag: burgertron 🍔🤖 #f/o tag: bonz eye 💚⚔ #burgerbonz #tf botbots #botbots #transformers botbots #transformers #maccadam #lesbian #lesbian pride #diversity win! the cheeseburger and the bonsai tree are a butch4butch couple! #i was literally looking @ candy's art and then i just had a realisation jimmy neutron brain blast style #i was like HOLY SHIT THIS IS BURGERBONZ CODED #“but ronnie!” i hear you cry “this is implying burgertron has boobs!” #yeah? fuck?

[shinigxmi-muses]

    “I may hype up the Planet on occasion, but I think I need everyone to understand this: it’s downright evil sometimes. Not all the time! But enough to get uncomfortable if you think about it for too long.”

#chat; Aerith #[ I am once again thinking abt how the Planet is...hmm ] #[ the Weapons... Whispers... Omega and Chaos... ] #[ Omega and Chaos is bad enough ] #[ then you gotta process the Whisper Trio ] #[ Weapons are overpowered to hell to protect it ] #[ mako monsters technically count too ] #[ look it IS Shinra's fault ] #[ but holy shit is the Lifestream potent enough to baja blast your brain away ] #[ ....I write it as jokes but...seriously ] #[ the Planet does NOT fuck around ]

[quietwingsinthesky]

RIVER WOULD BE AN ARCHANGEL VESSEL.

#ffucking brain blast holy shit #no. no. look at me. her birth. it’s entirely concerned with the Creation of a child with a specific set of dna #that can contain the power of a time lord. translate that to supernatural lore? you got an archangel vessel babyyyyyy #whose? fuck if i know. but she is <3

[narryffdreaming]

Summary: Harry and Gianna are best friends. He's been in love with her for years now, but she's dating someone else and he knows it's time to move on. When Harry finally agrees to go out on a blind date, Gianna reaches out — she just broke up with her boyfriend, and she needs her best friend. 

PART ONE AU, friends to lovers +18 (explicit language) 7k words I said to myself that I wouldn't do it, but I'm doing it anyway :D

Harry knocks on the bathroom door once, and then twice. He turns his head to the side and leans in, trying to catch any indication of an answer over the music blasting from downstairs. 

It's hard to focus, though. The steady and rapid beat keeps banging from his ears to every corner of his brain, it echoes between the walls, and it seems to shake the ground beneath him. On top of that, even though he's on the second floor of the house, at the end of the hallway, and standing in an empty room, he can't tune out all the shouting, laughing, and cheering. All the people he walked past on his way in feel distant and muffled now, and yet he still can't hear one single thing through the white wood, which somehow makes everything even more annoying.

"Fuck," he whispers to himself, then steps away from the door. 

He can still run away. He can still let her know he's busy tonight. He can still tell her that he won't be able to make it because he has somewhere else to go. Because he has someone else to see. Because he's already on his way to the opposite side of town. 

He can… He still can… And also he should, right? He should tell her that. Mostly because, for once, it wouldn't even be a lie. 

Holy shit. 

Isn't it funny that, for the first time in three weeks, he wouldn't be lying to her? That for the first time he actually has plans to use as an excuse to not see her? That finally — finally — he's listened to his friends and agreed to move on? 

And isn't it funny that, despite all that, there he is, on a Friday night, ignoring everything and everyone, and standing inside a stranger's house just because she asked him to? 

Harry chuckles and rubs one hand across his face. He's so fucking stupid. 

Because yes… He can still say no to her. And he should say no to her. 

Except… 

He shakes his head, and grabs his phone. Who's he even trying to fool? He can't say no to her. Of course he can't. C'mon. It's Gianna we're talking about. His Gianna. His best friend. The one person in the world he would do absolutely anything for. Of course he can't say no to her. Not when she says she needs him. 

So… Ok. He needs to focus, instead. He needs to go straight to the point. He can't say no to her, but he can still say a quick hello and jump right into a goodbye. In and out. In a blink of an eye. He can be there for a friend, and still make it to his date.

Yes. 

C'mon!

He checks her last text one more time, the one she sent forty-three minutes ago: second floor, last door. hiding in the bathroom. With a sigh, he puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a step forward, then turns his head to the side and presses his ear against the white wood. He lifts his hand in a fist, and knocks again. And again. And again. And again.

First comes some cursing, and then her loud and muffled voice. "Go away!"

Harry closes his eyes and, before he can even register what's happening, his lips have already turned up into a smile. 

Gianna's voice is unmistakable. Not because there is something unusual or peculiar about it, but because it feels extremely characteristic of hers. Never too high, never too low. Always enough. It captures everything about her personality: the softness, the certainty, the brightness, the stubbornness, the kindness, the understanding, the annoyance, the reasoning, the confidence, the innocence, the strength, the— 

Harry blinks his eyes open, and clears his throat. 

He is there on a mission, so again, he needs to focus. Make sure she's ok, and make it in time for his date. 

"You're the one who asked me to be here," he points out, raising his voice, but not actually yelling.

And then, it only takes three seconds for him to hear the click of the door being unlocked. He steps back and faces the bathroom, then takes a deep breath and pulls his curls away from his forehead. 

Truth is, he hasn't seen Gianna in three weeks, and he can't deny he's dying to be around her again. To see the wrinkles on her face when she smiles, or the sparkles in her eyes when she tells him about something exciting that happened to her. 

Fuck. 

His stomach feels funny, and he gulps down. He absolutely hates this. 

The door cracks open, but Gianna barely gives herself enough space to look outside, let alone to give him the chance to look at her. 

"Is it just you?" she asks, peeking around him through the tiny gap she's created. 

Harry frowns, and snorts. "No, I just met a bunch of strangers downstairs and brought them up here to check on my friend who apparently locked herself in some random bathroom and—" 

"Okay, okay." She rolls her eyes and sighs, then steps aside. "I get it." 

She hides behind the door, and silently offers him more room to walk in. 

Harry shakes his head and presses his lips into a tight line, but shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walks forward anyway. 

The space is tiny, but enough for both of them. White walls match the toilet, the bathtub, the countertop with the sink, and the medicine cabinet. The only sources of color are the orange towel hanging on the wall next to the sink, the bottles of shampoo on a corner shelf, the yellow shower curtain crumpled on one side of the tub, and a bowl of Doritos on top of the closed toilet lid.

He quirks one corner of his mouth up, but also furrows his brows. What the hell is going on? How long has she been here? And why is she even hiding in the bathroom in the first place?

Gianna closes and locks the door, and Harry jolts. 

He turns on his feet, just in time to see her twirling around, too. 

She glares at him with a frown on her face and hands on her hips. Her chest moves up and down, quickly and heavily, and her nostrils flare every time she takes a deep breath in. It's easy to notice, because the green overall she's wearing does a great job at hiding everything from her belly to her midcalf, but it isn't covering that much of her cleavage. Nor the soft skin on her shoulders. Nor the smoothness of her arms. And her long necklace — the one she got for herself after her first paycheck — follows the movements of her lungs, and the big, golden pendant is this close to get lost between the swells of her breasts. 

Fuck. Heat rushes through his body, and his breath gets stuck in his throat. 

He can't make her uncomfortable, though. He can't let her know the thoughts that keep crossing his mind every time he looks at her body. He can't even let her know he (sometimes and unwillingly) glances at her body. Fuck no. He can't be inappropriate.

He can't, under any circumstance, cross that line with her. 

He just can't.

He clears his throat and forces himself to focus on her face, then. Taking in her infuriated expression first, and then her puffy cheeks, and then her smudged makeup… 

And then her red eyes… 

And then her washed-out stare… 

He drops his shoulders, then exhales through his nose. 

Here we go again… 

"What did he do now?"

She opens her mouth, then closes it. And Harry's seen that same reaction so many times before that he already knows she's changing her mind about the kind of answer she wants to give him. That she will somehow deflect the truth. And that she will once again try to protect that fucking son of a bitch. 

"I just…" Gianna says, and shrugs. "I just hate him." 

Harry stares at her for a moment, then tilts his chin down and looks at his feet. Ok. Maybe not what he expected her to say, but still… He shakes his head and laughs, and the sound comes out of him as humorless and exhausted as he feels. 

"Right," he offers, because it's the only thing he can come up with. 

Is it possible for him to feel concerned about her, but also extremely annoyed at her? Because he can swear he is. 

Gianna's big pleading eyes and cherry pouty mouth have always been some of his biggest weaknesses, but he promised himself he wouldn't do this again. He promised he wouldn't interfere anymore. He promised he would let her go. And he promised he would move on. 

"I do, Harry," she insists. "I truly do."

He nods, then takes one hand out of his pocket and rubs one finger under his nose. Whatever. He really isn't in the mood for this drama. Not again. Not tonight. Not when he has finally decided to move on and is supposed to be on a date instead.

"You texted," he says, dropping his arm and lifting his head to face her again. He hides his hand inside his pocket again, secretly wriggling his fingers and trying to get some of his tension off his body. "Thought something happened to you."

She looks away from him, then shrugs. Her hand falls from her hip to hang by the side of her body, and she tilts her chin down, staring at her fidgety fingers. 

Harry notices the moment she swallows hard, as if burying her emotions down her throat, and his entire body goes cold. 

Gianna isn't happy, and she hasn't been for such a long time. And at the end of the day, it kills him to see her like this. It kills him to see her so sad. It really does. He wants to take her pain away, he wants to hold her, and he wants to protect her. And yet he can't. Not how he would like to, at least. And he doesn't know how to help her anymore. He doesn't know what else he can do. Or what else he can say. He's already tried everything and, to be honest, he feels as if he has completely run out of options. As if he has failed her. 

He's powerless, and he's useless. 

And he's also really fucking lost. 

"I hate him," she finally says, glancing at him and repeating herself. Ignoring his attempt to change the subject. 

And for a moment, Harry can swear he sees a flicker of certainty inside her. He sees it, and he feels it.

Maybe… 

Yeah. Maybe she finally means it. Maybe this time is actually different. 

Maybe she finally realized that fucking son of a bitch isn't worth a second of her day and she's finally going to—

No.

Harry looks away.

He'll just never learn the lesson, will he?

"I mean it."

"Right. Ok, then."

"Ugh," Gianna grunts, then clenches her teeth. "Stop saying that!"

"Saying what?" he asks, walking to the bathtub. 

"Right," Gianna mimics. 

Her attempt to imitate his voice and accent is endearing, and as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, he also purses his lips to hold back a smile. 

"It's truly annoying," she adds. "Especially when you say it like that."

He places his elbows on his knees and tilts his chin up, looking at her. 

Her arms are crossed, and she is glaring at him again. 

Harry shrugs. "Like what?"

Gianna shakes her head and looks away—first at the floor, then at the sink. It takes her a moment to sigh and shrug, and when she finally speaks, her voice is only a weak whisper. "Like you don't believe in me anymore."

And just like that, Harry's entire body softens. 

He didn't mean to make her think that. He didn't mean to hurt her or to be mean to her. He didn't mean to make her sad. He just… He just can't understand the situation. He just doesn't know what to do about it, and he also doesn't know how to bring it up to her anymore.  

There is nothing in the world he wishes more than for those words to be true. For her to actually hate that fucking guy and leave him for good. So of course he wants to believe her, and he would if he hadn't heard the same story countless times before. But what good getting his hopes up for nothing, once again, would even do? 

"Gi…" Harry says, stretching one arm to poke her knee. She flinches away, and he sighs. "Gi, c'mon, look at me."

"No." 

He leans forward, stretching both of his arms now. When he still doesn't reach her, he lifts his bum a little and groans, then finally grabs her waist and pulls her closer. "Just come here."

Gianna doesn't fight him, letting him guide her until she is standing in front of him and in between his knees. Still, she doesn't look at him, keeping her arms crossed under her chest and focusing on the yellow curtain to his left, instead. 

Truthfully speaking, her stubbornness is usually one of the traits Harry enjoys the least, because it tends to make her act like a grumpy, annoying little girl. On the other hand, it is also one of the things he envies the most about her, because it drives her forward to achieve whatever she wants — like when she plays it in her favor to get interviews or exclusive content for the magazine she works at. 

Besides, Gianna isn't perfect, Harry knows that. And he doesn't expect her to be. So he humors her childish behavior sometimes. Like right now, when he's determined to bury himself inside her eyes. Tilting his chin up, dropping his head back and straightening his back just to look at her. Searching for her sight even if she won't give in and share it with him. 

"Gi," he calls, as careful, soft, and tender as he can be. "Hey… I'm sorry, ok?" 

She bites her lip, and shrugs. 

And because she's also old and mature enough to act like an adult, he doesn't hold himself back from trying to put some sense into her. 

"You gotta understand where I'm coming from, yeah? We've been here before, and—"

"I know, but—"

"No, you don't know, Gi. So let me say this." 

She sighs, but peeks at him through the corner of her eyes and nods.

It is more than enough for him, and he gives her a half-smile, placing the tip of his fingers on the side of her knees—just to hold her somehow, just to make sure she won't run away from him before he can explain himself. 

"We've been through this thousands of times, and I fucking hate when you still stay with him every single one of them. Because I hate the guy."

"I know sometimes you don't like him, but—"

"Gi, no. Listen to what I'm saying. I don't like that guy from work who chews too loudly and makes boring jokes. But Miles? I'm telling you I fucking hate him." 

Gianna drops her shoulders, and her arms fall to her sides. 

"Harry…" She dips her chin down and draws her eyebrows together, finally fully looking at him. "But that's… I mean… He's my boyfriend."

A new kind of heat flushes through his body, and Harry tenses. 

Is she being fucking serious right now? 

Is she actually going to defend him? 

Is she going to stand up for him or something?

He closes his eyes for a second and clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath and trying his best to keep himself together. 

He can't do this anymore. He can't keep running in circles. He can't keep dodging the truth just to protect their friendship. Mostly because, at this point, he isn't really protecting any of them anymore. 

"I know," he says, blinking his eyes open and meeting her gaze one more time. "I know he is. But you're my best friend and I love you, and I hate the way he treats you. I hate that we can't see each other without it turning into a fight between you two. I hate that he won't support the things you love. I hate that he's always tricking you into changing your mind about things. I hate that you're always sad because of him. I hate that he's always making you cry. So yeah, Gi… I know he's your boyfriend, but I hate him. And I'm not sorry for that."

For a long moment, there's nothing but silence between them. Music and people are completely muffled by the walls and the closed door, almost making it easy to forget there is even a party going on out there. 

Harry sits there patiently. Watching her. Waiting for her. 

And Gianna watches him back. Attentive. Curious. Puzzled. Thoughtful. Scanning him with those beautiful, big, meaningful eyes. Standing right in front of him, between his knees. So close that, if he faced forward, he would only need to lean a couple inches to kiss her body. And she smells heavenly, too, like she always does when she's wearing that same perfume — fresh, captivating, sexy. 

The woman of his dreams, embarrassingly as it may sound. And embarrassingly as it may be.

"Is that…" she murmurs, so quietly she really doesn't mean for anyone but him to hear. "I mean, is he the reason why you've been avoiding me these past few weeks?" 

He closes his eyes for half a moment, then looks back at her. "You noticed, huh?"

"You thought I wouldn't?" 

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Wasn't trying to make it obvious." 

"Well, it sucked, okay? One morning I even cried listening to you on the radio." 

Harry tilts his head, and pulls the corners of his mouth into a smile. "No you didn't."

She rolls her eyes, holding back a smile of her own. "Trust me, I wish it was a lie." 

"Ugh." He dips his head down for a moment, rolling his shoulders before looking up again. "'M sorry, Gi."

"Yeah…" She crosses her arms once again, pressing them against her stomach and clenching her hands into fists. "I'm sorry, too."

She looks away, and he taps the tip of his fingers on the back of her knees. Already missing her undivided attention. 

"What happened, Gi?" he carefully asks. "How long have you been hiding here?"

"I… I don't know. An hour? Maybe more…" 

Harry sighs. "Gi… C'mon."

"I know." 

"You see how insane it is, right?" he asks, staring directly at her just to observe her reaction. To make sure he isn't pushing too much. To make sure he's actually helping her, and not making it worse. "Hiding in someone's bathroom for over an hour while he's out there throwing a party for people half his age?"

She closes her eyes, then bites her bottom lip and nods. 

She knows. 

She actually knows.

Whatever happened this time, it finally woke her up. It finally made her see it. 

He drops his shoulders, scanning her face. 

Then why is she still here? Why does she keep waiting around for him? Why does she keep putting herself in this position? Over and over again? What is so special about this fucking guy that is worth all the pain he constantly puts her through? 

And most importantly, what is it going to take for her to finally realize that she deserves so much better than to be treated like… This?

What can he do to help her? What's left for him to try? If he's run out of ideas, if he's said everything he could say to her, what difference can he still make? 

Maybe… 

No. 

A thought creeps in, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to engage with it. 

Although he should, because it is a new idea, and it is something he hasn't tried yet. It includes being honest, not filtering his thoughts just to make sure she won't end up hating him, and stop playing safe. It also forces him to finally take a chance, and to finally stop holding himself back. 

It's too risky, though. Especially right now, when she's so vulnerable and still dating the guy. 

Ok… So maybe not the entire truth, then? Maybe just the facts she needs to hear to break away from whatever curse that asshole spread on her. 

And he can try that. He did it just minutes ago, when he told her how much he hates the guy — and that seemed to work more than fine so far, right? 

Yes. 

Ok, then. 

He slides his tongue between his lips, and rolls his shoulders. And then, keeping his eyes on her, he finally says, "Gi, you deserve a lot better than this." 

Gianna doesn't seem to react, although the way her breasts suddenly pop up into his eye-line suggests she's holding all the breath in her chest. 

He insists, then — mostly because he knows she's actively listening to him, but also because he can't allow his fucking hormones distract him from what's really important right now. 

"You deserve to be treated so much better than the way he treats you."

She stays still, frozen in front of him. 

So he places his hands on the back of her knees and gently squeezes her. Briefly, though. Just one time. Just to make sure he gets her attention when he asks, "You know that, right?"

Gianna shrugs, then. And Harry catches the moment her bottom lip trembles. And how her breath quivers when she exhales. 

"Hey," he says, squeezing her again. "Sorry, love. Don't wanna make you cry."

He's crossing the line. 

He shouldn't touch her like this. 

He knows that. 

Even if it's an innocent hold on top of her clothes. Even if she barely notices it. Even if it means nothing to her. 

Because he notices. He feels her body under his palm, and he feels the way her flesh sinks when he digs each one of his fingertips to get her attention.

And he notices how she fits perfectly into his grip. And now he can't stop thinking how there isn't even an inch of her body he doesn't want to squeeze and feel just like this, but also way, way more.

"I'm not—It's not…" Gianna says (or tries to say). 

Harry blinks, and loosens up his craving fingers. 

Gianna shakes her head and opens her eyes, looking at him again. "He didn't look for me, y'know? I've been here all this time and he didn't… Not even a text." 

Harry doesn't know what to say to that, so he brushes his thumb up and down once. Trying to comfort her. Trying to sooth her. Trying to remind her he is there, and he is listening to her. He is taking care of her.

"Something could've happened to me and he just… He just doesn't care at all."

He repeats the movement of his fingers one more time, and when she still doesn't seem to mind or be bothered by it, he repeats it again. Over and over. Drawing small, tiny circles on the back of her knees. 

"'M sorry, love." 

"I hate him."

And this time, Harry genuinely believes her.

"Me too," he says, keeping the steady stroke of his thumbs.

"He's just so fucking stupid." 

"He is. Most fucking stupid guy I've—" 

"And he broke up with me!" 

Harry shuts his mouth. 

What?

He did what?!

"It was so… Humiliating…" Gianna laughs, painfully, shortly and bitterly. And then the first tear rolls down her cheek, and although she quickly wipes it off, it's like she can't stop the next ones from following the exact same path. 

Holy shit.

"Gi," Harry whispers.

She shakes her head and looks down to his chest, or maybe to his thighs, or just to anywhere in between them that doesn't include his eyes. She sniffs once, and, amidst new tears, she finally shares with him the one thing she's been avoiding to face the entire night. 

"I don't… I don't even know what I did this time. Honestly… He came early to set everything up, so Crystal gave me a ride and… And then when we arrived he just… I just went to say hello to him… I didn't… He just broke up with me, H… Out of nowhere, and in front of everyone." 

Jesus Christ. 

There are suddenly a lot of things to unpack. 

Too many things to point out. Too many things to ask. 

Questions. 

Yes. 

So many questions. 

Hundreds of them.

But the first one he blurts out is, "Crystal is here?"

Gianna sniffs, rubbing both hands on her cheeks, and nods.

"Angela too?"

"Yes." 

Harry frowns. "Well, and where are they right now?" 

"I don't know."

He can feel his muscles twitching. The urge to crack his knuckles and run after those two little b—

"Were they there when it happened?"

Gianna nods.

"And do they know you're here? Did they at least try to reach out to you?" 

"I don't—I don't know, H…" she murmurs, dropping her arms to her sides and fidgeting with her fingers. "And to be honest I don't care… I don't want to see them… They'll tell me it was nothing… That he didn't mean it… And then they'll say I should forgive him and I just… I don't… I can't…" 

Harry shuffles on the bathtub, and suddenly he's awfully aware of how much he'll, sooner or later, regret sitting there for so long. Still, right now, as he leans just a little bit closer to her, that's definitely the least of his worries.

"You can't forgive him, Gi," he pleads. "Not this time. Not after all this."

"I know… I know I can't… I just…"

She shakes her head, and Harry twitches his fingers around her knees. Digging them slightly, begging her not to stop. Not now. Not after all the progress they've made. 

"What? Tell me… I'm here, yeah? I'm listening." 

She takes one hand to her forehead and rubs the tips of her fingers from one side to the other. As if trying to slide the words out of her brain. 

"I'm just… Scared."

"Ok…" Harry tilts his head, searching for her eyes. "Scared of what, love? Of him? Because you know I'll never let—"

"No." She shakes her head. "I'm not scared of him… It's not—Ugh… Look, I don't want to keep doing this anymore, okay? I really don't. But I'm… I'm scared I'll end up calling him anyway… And I know I shouldn't, I know that, but I… I mean, I don't know… I just… I don't know…"

"Ok, just breathe, yeah?" He moves his thumbs up and down again, foolishly hoping his touch will be enough to soothe her. 

"I don't want to be that girl," she says, then takes a deep breath in, and lets the air out through her mouth. "I swear I don't." 

"Ok… That's—"

"I'm scared I'll be, tho. And I don't want to. I don't—" 

"Gi, hey… Listen to me."

She stops talking, and she also glances back at him. The look on her face is so scared, though, that it makes Harry's chest hurt. 

He sighs, and asks. "Why would you call him, tho, hm?" 

Gianna shrugs. 

"If you don't want to… And if you're saying you know you shouldn't… Why are you so scared you'll call him anyway?"

"I don't know…" 

She looks away again, and Harry notices that, unlike him, the only way she can get the words out of her mind is if she isn't staring at him. 

"It's just what I did every other time before… He'll break up with me, then I'll get lonely at home and call him. And then he'll—" 

"Wait." Harry frowns. "Just... Hold on a minute. This isn't the first time?"

She looks down to the floor, and shakes her head.

"How many times did he break up with you?"  

Gianna laughs — humorlessly, tirelessly, unwillingly. 

"Please don't make me answer that."  

Harry freezes for a moment, and cautiously watches her. He examines her. Studies her. Trying to find any of the sparks she's usually radiating off her. Or any traces of joy. Or at least some peace in between everything that's happening. But she's just so sad. And she also looks so ashamed, and so scared, that he just… He can't do it anymore. 

Honestly. 

It's beyond whatever he can handle right now.

So he squeezes the back of her knees and pushes her closer, then leans in and places his head against her belly. 

He closes his eyes, and sighs. 

Holly shit.

Harry doesn't want to be dramatic, ok? So he'll never admit this out loud, but this shit physically pains him. It just does. He can't grasp his mind around the fact that getting into fights with her, making her cry, and diminishing her ideas wasn't enough for that fucking asshole. That he still needed to mess around with her feelings, and that he got away with it for so long that she now believes she'll end up crawling back to him no matter what. 

He also hates the fact that he never knew "breaking up" was a common thing between them. That Gianna wasn't just forgiving all the childish and fucked up things Miles did, but that she was actively calling him up and asking to go back to him. And he doesn't blame her for that, ok? He doesn't. He loves her. So he just… Y'know… 

He just… 

"Fuck," he murmurs, clenching his teeth. "That fucking son of a bitch."

Gianna breathes in, and Harry feels the way her stomach slowly fills up with air, moving his head along with it. And then she exhales out, heavily and through her nose, and her stomach empties again, and Harry's head follows the movement again. 

"I'm sorry, H," she murmurs, too. "I didn't—"

He shakes his head, burying his forehead on the fabric of her overall, and lifts his hands slightly, just an inch above the back of her knees. Being mindful to not overstep, but also deeply struggling to contain himself.

"Please don't apologize," he says, intentionally keeping his voice down. "You didn't do anything wrong." 

She places her hands on the back of his head. Softly and gently. Almost like she's unsure of what she's doing. 

"It feels like I did, tho."

"You didn't. I promise you didn't."

Gianna doesn't seem to have an answer for that, and she also doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. Tapping his hair as if she's trying to figure out where to put them. 

Harry brushes his thumbs up and down, just like before — although he's now hesitantly venturing himself on the back of her thighs, and that embarrassingly feels way more dangerous and thrilling than whatever he did with (or to) any other person up until then. 

And it seems to have some sort of effect on her, too, because she relaxes underneath him. Her muscles seem to loosen up, and she finally drops the weight of her palms on the back of his head. 

Next thing he knows, Gianna's already threading her fingers through his hair. Running her nails over his scalp, and entertaining herself while fiddling with his curls. 

Harry smiles, and slows down under her touch. His breathing follows the rhythm of her hands, and his heart is loud and heavy, but it doesn't seem to squash his chest anymore. It's not painful anymore. 

Time goes by unnoticed. And it's like the world around them doesn't even exist anymore. 

It's good. 

And it's new. 

And it's peaceful. 

And it's refreshing. 

So much so that, when Gianna speaks again, even the pain and the sadness in her voice sound lighter. 

"I hate myself for calling him," she says, keeping up with the strokes on his head, "and I really don't want to do it again." 

Harry nods. 

"I'm scared I will anyway, H…"

He squeezes her once, just to let her know he's listening, and then he rummages through his brain, trying to find something useful to say. 

He can't say he understands her fear, because he isn't sure he does. What he knows is that he always struggled to say no to Gianna, and that no matter how hard he tried he was never able to let her go. But he can't compare both situations, can he? After all, she never played with his feelings, because she doesn't know about them. Miles, on the other hand, was pretty much aware of the relationship they were in. Miles knew what he was doing, and Miles actively chose to string her along. 

So, no, it is not the same thing. 

On top of that… Harry can't imagine her calling him out of nowhere. Not when she's so sure she doesn't want him anymore. Not when she's so sure she hates him.

Unless… Well, is she still in love with him? Is that why she thinks she'll go back to him? Because she loves him so much that she'll miss him? 

No… C'mon… She doesn't. 

Does she? 

Shit.

Certainly, it's not his place to answer that, but it doesn't feel like she's in love with the guy. It feels like she's used to being with him, but because she doesn't know anything better. 

Besides, he's never seen her so determined to put an end to the relationship. This is the first time he's seen it written all over her face. It's also the first time she's called him because Miles broke up with her, and the first time she even told him it happened. So how… How can she still be so unsure of herself?

Harry pulls away and blinks his eyes open. Adjusting to the bright cool light, and also searching for her eyes. 

Gianna slides her hands off his hair and rests them on his shoulders. Holding herself onto him while she tilts her chin down and meets his stare. 

"I know you said you called him every other time before, but… Did you also feel like this the other times?" 

She frowns, and it's enough for him to already know the answer. Still, he waits for her, and lets her come to a conclusion on her own.

"I don't… Think so? I mean, no. It feels… Different this time."

Fuck yeah it does.

Just look at them!

Harry wants to chuckle, but he knows he can't, and he knows he shouldn't, so he breathes in deeply and shrugs. 

"So maybe this time it will be different, yeah?" he asks, then takes a chance and drags his palms another inch further up on the back of her thighs. 

Gianna takes a tiny step closer to him, and he's more than happy to take that as a little victory. 

"Maybe… But I don't know if I have so much faith in myself." 

"Why not, Gi? If you know he's such an idiot, and you know you don't wanna go back to him, why do you still think you will?" 

"Because I'm that stupid, H. Because apparently I can't—"

"Stop," he says, and squeezes the back of her thighs

Gianna gasps softly, and widens her eyes. 

Shit.

Although Harry always tries to be gentle, he knows his grip ended up being tighter than he originally meant to. He can feel it on the way his nails are digging into her flesh, and on the way he's also flexing his arms. 

Part of him wants to apologize and put some distance between them before she can do it herself. Before she realizes what's happening and tell him to fuck off. 

The other part, though, knows it's too late to go back from whatever he already did tonight, and that so far the truth is the only road that seems to be actually taking him somewhere. 

So Harry straightens up his back and keeps his hands in the exact same place, firm and steady. 

He doesn't take anything back, nor pretends it isn't actually happening. 

"I can't let you do this to yourself, ok?" he says. "Because you're not stupid." 

Gianna blinks. 

"You're the most fascinating woman I've ever met," he adds, because now that he's started he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself anymore. "You're kind, and smart, and creative, and funny." 

He loosens up one hand and pulls it away, but only to take it up to her face and brush his thumb under her eyes. 

"You're so beautiful, Gi," he says, cleaning some of her smudged makeup. 

"So, so beautiful…" He strokes her cheek, and then under her other eye. "That you're just… You're breathtaking."

She blinks again, and again, and again. As if trying to absorb the information not only through her ears, but also through her eyes.

And Harry likes the way she's listening to him, the way she's leaning closer. The way she's softening in front of him. He doesn't know what it means, but he knows he likes it. So he keeps going, choosing to only stop if she asks him to.

"And you're constantly blowing my mind, for whatever reason." He drops his hand again, placing it on the back of her thigh, where it feels they belong now. "Your ideas, your point of views, your actions… Everything, Gi. Everything you do is just… Amazing. You are amazing."

She flickers her eyes around his face, and Harry gives her time to do so. He waits for her. Brushing his thumbs up and down. Subtly caressing the back of her thighs.

"I don't… I don't know what to say." 

"It's ok…" He smiles. Softly. Fondly. "You don't have to say anything." 

Gianna shrugs. She picks his t-shirt between her fingers, fidgeting with it while still watching him. 

"Kinda feels like I have to. I mean, those are… Y'know… Really nice things to say about someone."

"I know. Yes." He smiles bigger, and nods. "Want me to say them again?" 

She rolls her eyes, but it's easy to catch the way her mouth tries to curl into a smile as well. Or the way some cheerfulness brightens up her face. 

And there she is again… 

Harry tilts his head, hooked and charmed by the way she looks. By the woman she is. 

Chest warm and fuzzy. 

Head over the moon. 

Pathetically in love. 

"I think very highly of you, Gi." 

"You do?"

"Mhmm… You should know that by now." 

She drums her fingers on his shoulders, and he brushes his thumbs on the back of her thighs. 

"This is… I mean…"

"What?"

"Ugh." She groans, throwing her head back and glancing at the ceiling. "I don't know. I'm just really confused right now." 

"Oh. It's... It's ok," he says, eyes suddenly too focused and mind too distracted. 

Her neck is pretty, isn't it? And her skin looks the sweetest, softest place he could lay his lips on. 

Harry swallows. 

He looks down, and meets her chest — which only makes it worse. 

Fuck. 

He closes his eyes, and shakes his head. 

When he looks at her again, she's thankfully already facing down and staring back at him. Making it easier for him to talk again. 

"Don't wanna confuse you right now," he says, then clears his throat. "It's not the right time to reveal all of my thoughts about you,  anyway." 

"All of your thoughts about me? What—How many do you have?"

Harry chuckles. She's so fucking cute.

"Not today, yeah?" 

She narrows her eyes. "Harry…"

He shrugs. "Look, all you need to know right now is that you're not stupid. And I know you're scared, but this time you have me by your side, yeah? And I won't let that son of a bitch hurt you again. Ok?" 

"I appreciate that, but you don't have to—" 

"Gi. Ok?" 

She sighs.

"Okay."

"Good."

A beat of silence echoes between them. 

Gianna and Harry fill it by staring at each other. Consciously ignoring the fact that time is ticking by. And also ignoring the fact that, although they probably should feel awkward by whatever is going on right now, they actually don't feel awkward at all. 

And then clattering and shattering thunder from downstairs, and Gianna and Harry jolt. They both turn their heads to face the door, waiting for something to happen. And when people seem to erupt into desperate cheering and yelling, they both turn again, and look at each other. Again.

"Do you think it'll be okay if I spend the night at yours?" she asks. "Most of my things are at Miles' and I… I don't know. To be honest I don't want to spend the night at my place." 

Harry nods. "Yeah, of course. You can sleep back at mine."

He rolls his shoulders, then tilts his head to one side, and to the other.

"Do you think it'll be ok if we leave this place right now, tho?" he asks, brushing his palms up and down the back of her thighs, then sliding them to gently tap the sides of her legs. "Can't stand this place anymore."

"Yeah." Gianna smiles, and squeezes his shoulders. "We should go."

"Great." He squeezes her legs, and brushes his thumbs in wide, slow circles. "Good."

She nods and slides her hands down his shoulders, letting her fingers brush down his chest. "Mhmm…"

"We'll go, then." He spreads his legs even wider and nudges her forward, holding her legs tightly while forcing her to take a step closer. 

"We will." She draws her hands back to his shoulders, fully holding onto him. "Whenever you want to."

Harry closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his face to her stomach, and then a kiss on top of her clothes. Without pulling away, he groans against the green fabric, then murmurs, "You're not making this any easier for me, y'know?"

Gianna chuckles, allowing her hands to timidly explore his back. "I swear to God I have no idea what's going on right now."

He pulls away, tilting his chin up and looking at her. "We'll have plenty of time to figure it out. But right now, let's just get the fuck out of here. Please."

"Okay," she says, and smiles, but doesn't make any attempt to actually move.

"Ugh." He grabs her waist and pushes her off, standing up and stumbling along with her feet as they both step away from the bathtub.

She bites her lip and giggles, and it honestly takes absolutely everything inside him to not kiss her right then and there.

"C'mon," he says, finding her hand and holding it tightly. "Let's take this back to mine." 

Hiii :)

Someone sent me a request back in 2022 and I came up with 85% of this. Then last week I decided to finish it and finally post it (always better late than never, huh? hehe).

There are soooo many things I have in mind for this one, so many things I haven't explored yet, and so many things that I intentionally left unanswered... But for now, this right here, is all I have, and I wanted to share it anyway :) I'm basically just challenging myself and my overthinking, so let's hope I don't regret it lol.

ANYWAY, thanks for reading.

Dani.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles au

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hello❤️ literally just had this request thought of hobie and reader somehow getting mixed up through portals, they end up in the future and end up meeting their future kids...lowkey had a brain blast😭

LOVEEE.

Our future

Warnings- confessions, making out, that’s it pretty much

You didn’t know that while messing with portals, it could lead to accidentally going to the future.

Maybe that’s why Miguel told you not to.

But you and Hobie didn’t care, you only live once right? Might as well do something fun with it.

You chose the portal the time, setting random numbers.

“I did just set random numbers so if anything’s weird-“

“Who cares? That makes it more fun.” He shrugged.

You both walked through, and ended up in a bedroom? It looked like a kids bedroom.

Because it was a kids room.

“Hobie..” you whispered, hitting him on the chest.

“This is your world, is it not?” He asked, picking up some random things around the room as quiet as possible.

“Are you- stealing from kids?” You whispered yelled.

“No.” He lied.

You rolled your eyes and loooked at the room.

“Mommy? Daddy?” One of them whispered. You both froze.

You looked at Hobie.

“Sorry, not your d-“

“Yeah. Sorry we scared you. We were just… checking on you guys.” You said, sitting on his bed and moving the hair from his eyes.

He looked an awful lot like Hobie. Except for his hair, and his eyes.

You looked at him and back to Hobie. You narrowed your eyes at Hobie. The kid even had piercings. He looked about 10.

“Hobie..”

He looked at the other one when he realize what you were getting at. He looked at you and then back to the sleeping girl. The boy looked in confusion.

Then he Hobie saw a picture on the wall above her bed. The girl as a baby, being held by Hobie. And you were smiling next to Hobie with the boy as you put your arm around Hobie.

He ripped the picture off the wall, handing it to you.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, man?” He looked at the kid with a new love.

“What’re you still doing in here?”

“Yeah.. good question. I’ll let you go to sleep. Goodnight. I love you.” Hobie grabbed the picture and put it back up, you stared at Hobie.

“Goodnight. Love you.” You said, tucking the boy back in and kissing him on the forehead, before shutting the door.

You both sneakily walked around, and went into the bathroom.

“Holy shit- what the- fuck.” You groaned, sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Well.. uh, I guess that’s our future.”

“Are you sure? Can’t it just be some other universe?”

“I mean it could be but… I want it to be our future.”

You stared at him with wide eyes.

“You serious?”

“Dead.”

You stood up, Hobie was a little confused. But you leaned in and started kissing him. It was a bit sloppy, but who cared?

“I like you.” You said, out of breath when you pulled away.

“I got that.” He laughed, and went in for another kiss.

#hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spider man across the spider verse #spider punk

[devonpink]

Straight Boy.MP3 Part 2

Pierre was chilling on his bed, scrolling his phone in utter boredom when suddenly he got a text from his best friend, Mason, a link to an untitled mp3. His eyes perked up, wondering what it could be. While putting on his headphones, he got another text from Mason. The text read, "Bro!!! Listen to this immediately, bro!!! It's fucking life changing, bro!!!" Pierre raised an eyebrow of confusion, perplexed at why Mason unexpectedly sounded like an annoying cliché of a dumb straight boy. "Well, if it's that amazing," Pierre scoffed, rolling his eyes. He laid back and curiously pressed play, smugly assured in knowing no song is genuinely life-changing. Poor Pierre, how wrong he'd soon be.

After a few seconds of ambient build-up, the song went right into the hook: a cacophony of vibrant hypnotic melodies piercing Pierre's mind like neon lightning. It was loud and violent, yet incredibly arousing. In a panic, Pierre tried removing his noise-canceling headphones, but they wouldn't budge. He wanted to get up, confused and frightened, but his body wouldn't let him; his backside and legs felt like they were cemented to the bed. The more he tried to budge, the weaker his body became. His arms soon fell to his sides, limp with exhaustion. All he could do was listen in agonizing terror as his 10" cock became instantly rock hard, creating a stiff pitch tent in his thin grey sweatpants.

"What the fuck?!" Pierre winced as the song's repetitious beat assaulted his ears. He clutched his bedspread in discomfort, feeling incredibly lightheaded but, surprisingly, with no headache. His eyes rolled back in anguish, feeling his whole body tingle and tighten. Even in such misery, nothing could stop the mysterious intensity of aching arousal igniting within him, a massive pre cum stain forming at the tip of his throbbing pitch tent.

"Cum, dumb straight boy!" An unrecognizable male singer abruptly and loudly sang, frightening the hell out of Pierre. His hard cock quivered, instantly responding to the song's command. His cock suddenly felt on the brink of eruption, making him spasm with a severe euphoric chill. In the pit of his stomach, he knew something terrible was going to happen if he shot his load. He clutched his bedspread harder, trying desperately to resist, but his body wouldn't have it. With a moan of great sexual agony, he blasted through his grey sweatpants and made a huge mess of himself and his bedspread with his white sticky cum.

"Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre moaned, his voice slightly deeper. He couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth, but it was the only thing his brain could muster. The song then went right into the bridge, grabbing back his attention. "Dumb boy. Dumb, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. "What the fuck?!" Pierre gasped, feeling his cock stiffen back up. "Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy. Cum out all your brains, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. His cock quivered and throbbed, aching for release. "Fuck, no! Fuck, bro-" Pierre uttering that word again sent a chill down his spine, cutting off all thought. "Holy fuck, bro." Pierre moaned, his mind suddenly feeling like mush. His hips began to thrust forward on their own, his cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants. He could feel his resistance slipping, giving him unexpected pleasure. "Fuck, bro!!!" he moaned, his cock erupting another blast of hot sticky cum.

"Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy." The lyrics sang, bringing a dumb smile to Pierre's sweaty face. "Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre chuckled, his head feeling even lighter. He unclenched from his bedspread, feeling more relaxed. Pierre then closed his eyes, seeing them go fuzzy. A few seconds ago, Pierre felt like he was in a living nightmare, but now he felt like he had just finished having the best full-body massage of his life. "Fuck, bro." He moaned in satisfaction. However, the song wasn't over. Pierre wasn't complete yet.

"Straight boy. I'm a straight boy." The lyrics sang, widening Pierre's dumb smile. "I'm a straight boy." Pierre harmonized. Pierre's eyes opened in shock, instantly snapping out of his joy. A drop of cold sweat ran down his face, dread pouring over him. "I'm gay." Pierre protested. "You're a straight boy." The lyrics immediately sang back, responding to him. Pierre's heart quickened, unable to believe what was happening. "I'm-" Before Peirre couldn't finish, the song fastly interrupted, "-straight. You're a straight boy." Pierre's cock stiffened back up to full mast, throbbing and quivering for release. He clutched his bedspread again, knowing the next ejaculation would be the last. What lay on the other side of that orgasm, he could only fear the worst.

"Cum, straight boy!" The song commanded. Pierre clutched his soaked bedspread harder, trying with all his might to resist. "Cum, boy. Cum, straight boy. Cum out all your gay, straight boy!" The song commanded, sounding malevolent. Pierre groaned, feeling his hips thrust forward on their own again. His hard cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants felt magnificent, the pleasure beyond hard to resist. "Cum, Pierre! Join us, bro!" The song commanded. Pierre's heart skipped a beat, the song uttering his name frightening the hell out of him. His hips thrust harder, humping faster. He could feel the cum building up, his cock ready to erupt for the final time. "Please, no!" Pierre protested in agony, tears forming in his eyes. "CUM!" The song demanded, sounding like the devil himself. Pierre clutched as hard as he could, the pleasure overpowering all fear. "FUCK, BRO!!!" Pierre roared like a mighty manly beast, firing off his hot sticky white cum for the third and final time.

The song blasted off its final beat as Pierre passed out in a pool of sweat and cum. He awoke a few minutes later feeling like a brand-new man. Pierre was a new man. The previous intelligent gay Pierre was permanently gone forever, and the new dumb straight Pierre was here to stay. With all memory of his mental transformation erased, Pierre was dumbfounded as to why he was drenched in sweat and cum. But now, being as dumb as a brick, he didn't overthink it and got off his bed to clean himself. Instead of bathing like an intellectual, he grabbed a used towel and poorly whipped the cum and sweat off his chiseled body.

Pierre then rushed over to his closet to quickly change into his trunks. It was still a hot, sunny day, and the slutty babes at the beach were calling. He needed pussy and badly! But before going out, Pierre sent all his gay friends a link to his brand-new favorite song, an untitled mp3.

#gay to straight #transformation #tf story #male tf story #male transformation #mental transformation

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Keep your eyes on the road (aka an unexpected sex pollen adventure)

Summary: Honestly, this is what Bucky gets for not listening to you.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ only. Oral sex while driving, sex pollen, sex in a car, bad language, Bucky desperately needing to bang. Also please do not try to replicate this unless you are in fact with a super soldier who has super reflexes, as blow jobs while driving should probably be attempted by super people. 

A/N: Is this really my first time writing sex pollen? Yes it is. Is Bucky being needy and desperate kinda fun? Yes it is. Did I enjoy writing this? Yes I most certainly did. I hope you enjoy it too. ;)

*****

The thing is, you told him you didn’t feel like coming on this mission.

And you told him not to open that container with the giant blood red skull on it. 

And you told him to to wear a mask.

And you told him to let you drive, but he shouted something about you being a passenger princess before unceremoniously shoving you in the getaway car.

So yeah. You told him all these things.

The thing is, Bucky fumes, glaring at the swerve of headlights advancing in his rearview mirror - he really needs to learn how to fucking listen.  

“Shit, shit, shit!” He slams the accelerator to the floor and the car gives a sickening lurch. Beside him, you crack your head on the window, trying to buckle your seatbelt and swearing at the top of your lungs. 

“Bucky what the hell’s the matter with you? Just drive.” 

“I’m trying,” he snaps. He can feel the flushing prickle of sweat beading down his neck. Rubbing a shaking hand down his face, he blows out a harsh breath. “Why in god’s name is the heater on? Turn that shit off, I’m burning up over here.”

Craning your neck, you watch the headlights gaining. Fumbling for the Glock taped under the seat, you shoot him a confused look. 

“The heater isn’t on, it’s freezing in here. I told Steve to fix it and he ignored me because he's a giant asshole.”

Eyes locked on the road, Bucky reaches blindly for the window handle, hurriedly rolling it down. A blast of cold air rushes through the car and he gulps in relief.

“Better, much better,” he mutters. He squints into the rearview mirror again, mentally calculating the time between headlights and taillights, when he feels a twisting wrench in his chest. It sends bursts of heat skimming under his skin, snagging every nerve along the way. A panicked whine slips through clenched teeth. Alarmed, you turn back and meet his wild eyes, sweat now pouring down his face.   

“What the - what’s wrong? Bucky? Talk to me!” 

When you grab his arm, he visibly recoils. 

“No no no, don’t touch me, don’t - ah holy fuck, don’t touch me. If you do, I can’t - I’m gonna put the car in the ditch.” 

“You’re scaring me Bucky, what is this?”

He says nothing, deep in thought as his brain runs through the mission on warp speed, trying to identify something, anything, that could possibly -

Wait.

Oh.

Crap.

It's like a sucker punch when he realizes.

“The gold dust that flew out of that container, did any of it touch you?”

“You mean the one I told you not to open but you did it anyway because you can’t follow directions? Bucky what is wrong, you need-“

“Answer me,” he snarls. In the dashboard glow, you see his face pale. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus. “Sorry, sorry, just - please answer. Did any of it get on your skin?”

Baffled, you shake your head.

“No. None of it touched me, it just hit you.” 

Bucky nods, relieved. 

“Good, okay. Okay. Think I know what this is,” he grits out. Another shudder wracks his body and he grips the steering wheel so hard it squeals in protest. “HRNE-75.”

Your response is a blank stare.

“Am I supposed to know what random letters and numbers mean?”

“It’s a stimulant.” 

“Like caffeine?”

“No, like a drug.” You can hear him breathing faster. “Like a - like an aphrodisiac.”

Still a blank stare.

“What kind of aphrodisiac?”

“People call it sex pollen,” he says flatly. “It makes you horny. Like - really fucking horny. And it hurts like hell unless you do something about it.”

“Well, okay. We’ll figure that out when we get home, but for now - “

“I can’t - I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he interrupts. Sweat soaks the collar of his shirt and he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down. Following his gaze, you can see his cock straining against his jeans. 

“Jesus Christ. Bucky if you’re in pain, just pull over and let me drive, you can jerk off in the backseat.”

“We don’t have time to pull over, that fucker’s right behind us and if we don’t get us past Steve’s stupid check point, we’re gonna lose him and then the whole mission is wasted and I got sprayed by some bullshit horny dust for no reason and I’m sweating so much right now and I think I’m going to throw up, my dick hurts so fucking bad!” 

His voice reaches an hysterical pitch and you press your lips together, choking down the laughter. 

“Okay okay, I got it. So if you come, does that stop the pain?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t matter,” his shoulders slump miserably. “We can’t stop yet and I can’t jerk off and drive at the same time. Maybe under normal circumstances I could do it, I mean sure I have done that before because sometimes I get bored driving, but I just don’t have that kind of focus right now baby, I don’t.” 

Tremors are rattling through his entire body now, as he fights for control. As he shifts his hips, unconsciously searching for some kind of friction to offer relief, an idea pops into your brain.     

“Hey. Let me give you road head.” 

His hands slip on the wheel and he double-takes. 

“Wha - road head? Like - what does that mean? Like you’d give me a blow job? While I’m driving?”

If this were any other situation, you would tease him mercilessly for the way his voice squeaks, but you smother the urge. Plenty of time for that later.   

“Of course. If it helps.”

“But you mean, you’re going to suck my dick? While I’m driving?”

“Love the emphasis on the important words. Yes, I’m going to suck your dick, while you’re driving.”

Bucky bats the idea around, debating whether you’re actually serious and whether he is probably definitely going to drive down a highway at - he checks the speedometer - 145 miles per hour, while you suck his dick. Another wave of heat roils through him and he stifles a groan. Glancing at your expectant face, he gives a shaky nod.

“You’re sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer to him.

“It’s not a hardship Buck. You know I’m your dick’s number one fan.” Carefully popping the button on his jeans, you tug down his zipper and he pushes up his hips, struggling to help. The slight pressure on his aching cock already has him whimpering. “Just drive careful, alright? If I die because you wreck Steve’s car while I’m sucking your dick, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky breathes. “Careful. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Grasping him firmly, you lower your head and take his dick all the way down in one smooth move.

“Oh my fucking god,” he shouts, eyes fluttering. “Sweet shit that’s good!” 

He keeps one hand in a death grip on the wheel, while he places the other against the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place. Bobbing up and down, your tongue strokes along the ridges of his cock and you feel him swelling impossibly thicker. Tightening your lips, you suck hard, dragging slowly up  and he croaks out a garbled plea.   

“Keep going, keep going, please keep going.” Beneath your practiced mouth, his entire body begins to vibrate and he grips the back of your neck tight, chanting desperately. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, holy fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He thrusts up, holding your head tight as he comes down your throat. When your fingers scratch along his thigh, his foot inadvertently pushes the accelerator harder. The car climbs to 155 miles per hour and above you, the sound of ragged panting fills the car. 

Releasing his dick with a soft lick, you look up and Bucky chokes at the sight of your spit slick, swollen lips curving into a smile.

“That was fast. Feel better?”

He breathes a whispered yes, but you can still see the red flush still spreading down his neck. He swallows hard and grimaces.  

“Helped. Definitely helped. Still hurts, but better,” he says faintly and you see his cock is still rock hard. “It’s okay, it’s enough for now, I appreciate the - “

Rolling your eyes, you lean down and take him back in your mouth. Slipping a hand between his legs, your fingers carefully cup the heavy weight of his balls, squeezing gently. The rest of his sentence fades, melting into a rush of fervent praise.

A luscious ache settles in your belly, feeding off the hot desire you feel sparking through him, at the filthy words you hear him whispering above you. If you weren’t driving down a pitch black highway at a completely inappropriate speed, you’d consider reaching down to take care of yourself, but since you’re already flouting the most basic rules of automotive safety, you figure you should keep your hands on Bucky’s balls instead.

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

Bucky glances over at your movement, a deep growl rumbling in his chest at the sight. He didn’t think anything could make him harder at this point, but the image of you so turned on by giving him a blow job, does the trick. He grinds his teeth, dangerously close to just pulling over and saying fuck this ridiculous mission. Rubbing his hand between your flexing shoulder blades and slowly bobbing head, his rasping voice carves into you.

“Does this make you feel good? Doin’ this for me? Fuck me, wish I could help you out right now. You’re so damn good to me baby. Moment we stop this car, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

With his dick buried deep in your throat, your enthusiastic hum of agreement vibrates deliciously and he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. Everything feels incredible. Your tongue curling around the head of his cock, sucking gently on the tip, before sliding back down. The way you swallow around him, the squeeze of your throat, so hot and slick and tight. It feels so god damn good and he’s close again, one more second - 

The transmitter sitting in the console squawks to life, an ear piercing siren shocking you both from the lust fueled haze. You jerk off Bucky’s dick in a panic and he nearly screeches at the loss. Scrabbling with the device, he smashes the green TALK button.

“What?! What the fuck do you need, I’m busy.”

“Calm down there, speed racer,” comes Steve’s breezy voice. “Just letting you know we pulled the guy over. Turn around and come back so we can - “

Steve’s voice is abruptly silenced when Bucky crushes the transmitter with an easy squeeze of vibranium fingers. He flings the shattered splinters of plastic into the back seat and slams both feet on the brakes. The car fishtailes across the road, before skidding to a stop in a spray of gravel. Throwing it into park, he flips the lever under his seat and slides back with a mechanical thunk. Scrambling to pull his pants down all the way, he spreads his legs wide and takes his dick in hand. His eyes are dark, blown black when he turns to you.

“We’re safe. Get your pants off and get over here. Now.” he barks. 

Grinning at him, you tug on your tac pants, shimmying easily from the stretchy black fabric and clambering into his lap. There is no pretense. Bucky lines himself up and yanks you down, filling your cunt in one rough thrust. You’re so wet, he slides in easy. 

“God, Bucky,” you hiss. “That feels so good.”

He tugs on your shirt, pulling everything off until your breasts are bared. His mouth finds a nipple, teeth gently scrapping and tugging, greedily sucking the sensitive peak between his lips. He moves your hips faster, lifting and dragging you down on his cock over and over, until he jerks you down one final time, slams his head against the seat and comes with a long, guttural moan. Deep inside, you feel him pulsing over and over, until you can feel it dripping down your thighs, hot and sticky. 

Head tipped back, he struggles to catch his breath and you can see his heartbeat jumping wildly at his throat. When he finally opens his eyes to meet your questioning stare, you can see.

His eyes are still dark. 

“Need more?” You smile gently, smoothing sweaty hair from his forehead.

He swallows hard and then nods slowly.  

Rocking your hips, you grind down on him and lean in for a deep kiss, sliding your tongue against his. Bucky gives a shuddering sigh, sinking back into the feel of your body rolling against his. Warm hands stroke lightly down your spine and you can feel the thick, heavy weight of him growing hard again between your legs. But waring with the pleasure, a nervous tension seems to grip him.

“Bucky. I’m not made of glass,” you admonish. Licking delicately along his earlobe, he mumbles a string of apologies and your lips trail down his neck, pressing a kiss against that fluttering heartbeat. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Use me however you need. Make yourself feel good. Just make me come before you’re done. Deal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says, shivering uncontrollably at the heady combination of your cool breath and fiery words. “I can do that. ‘Course I’ll do that.”

His hands slide up your back and hook over your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your collarbone. He holds your body firmly in place, thrusting up into you and simultaneously rocking your hips forward. The angle is perfect and you moan at the feel, dizzy with desire as his cock rubs that spot inside just right. 

The sounds filling the car are purely pornographic. Wet skin slapping, Bucky grunting with every hard snap of his hips. The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking up your belly, between your breasts, pressing divots into your skin. He stares up at you, his eyes heavy and hooded and utterly adoring, relishing the sight of you grinding your pussy against him. His hand slips between your legs, stroking over your clit, rubbing fast tight circles. He smugly drinks down the breathless gasps he coaxes from you.   

“Bucky, I think - I think I’m - ”

The words falter when your hand slams into the car roof and your head falls back, eyes drifting closed. Lust slaps him hard as he watches you come, writhing above him, your voice cracking when you moan out his name again and again.  

“That's it, there you go baby,” he whispers roughly. The vision is breathtaking. Stunning. He figures maybe he could get used to sex pollen and a perpetually aching dick if it means he gets to see you like this.

He was already close (again), but the pure pleasure in your face is enough to knock him over the edge. He buries his face between your breasts, pinching your nipple and licking over your skin and your fingers tangle in his damp hair. You hold him tight as he gasps out your name, emptying himself inside you one more time.

And this time, finally, you can feel some of the spring tight tension disappear. His skin is still hot, but the shivers begin to diminish. Rough hands still grip your hips, but it feels controlled. The manic lust begins to fade, leaving a smoldering fire in his chest.   

Bucky tips a weary head back and meets your amused expression. A smile tugs the corner of his lips and he shakes his head. 

“God damn,” he sighs.

Scratching your nails lazily along his scalp, he leans into your touch, humming like a contented, if slightly feral, kitten. 

“Feel better?”

“So much better,” he murmurs. “Sorry that went completely sideways. Wasn’t really expecting that. Obviously enjoyed it, but still. Unexpected adventure.”

Pressing a kiss to his forehead you laugh.

“Next time, maybe don’t open the can with the giant red skull on it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

A comfortable silence settles. Bucky trails his fingers down your arms and you eye him thoughtfully.

“So, do you think they’ll come looking for us?”

“Maybe. Eventually. What should we do while we wait?”

There is a moments pause. And then you begin to roll your hips against him again and Bucky feels the electricity flare to life once more.

“We keep going.”

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bitsmasterlist

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

#posts i will be deleting

[sssigil]

Big Juicy

posting twice today because this thought wouldn't leave my brain literally ghost face makes me feral like them or any masked slasher killer ahhhh ^_^ ♡

Summary: Bimbo reader has a special uninvited guest visit her tonight, she doesn't even hesitate I mean who wouldn't fuck a masked killer ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Warnings: PURE FILTH, mask kink, spit kink, pussy slapping, degrading, size kink kinda, oral M n F receiving, he slaps u, he spanks you too, unprotected sex (don't do that), choking, biting, a little blood, mentions of killing, breeding if u squint, that's it enjoy <3.

It was currently eight at night and you had been in your dorm all day noting going on in your pretty little mind. You were laying on your tummy legs up kicking as you scrolled through your phone humming along the music playing. You had been blasting Ayesha Erotica this whole time that you hadn't notice your door opening with how loud the music was playing.

He saw you laying there, you were wearing the cutest skimpiest outfit he couldn't help but rub his groin. You body was facing your wall so he had a good view up your denim mini skirt, he could see your baby pink lace panties that barely covered your lower lips and he fucking loved the white thigh highs that covered your legs.

Ethan came here to kill you but he just couldn't help himself. He was now behind you, knife on his right hand as he lifted the knife ready to stab you on your back but before he could impale it he saw your pretty face now facing him. Pretty lips glossy with your gloss, doe eyes had slightly big falsies with pink glitter surrounding your eyes. You looked so cute.

"holy fuck am I about to get fucked by a masked killer" you exclaimed looking at the masked figure now sitting up on your bed dropping to your knees grabbing your phone clicking the camera app. You had a mirror facing your bed and you had the bestest idea, you position yourself left hand wrapping around the figures leg both thighs straddling his foot, you pointed your phone to the mirror making sure to get you both puckering your lips and taking a picture.

"OMG! we look so cute look look" you squealed looking up to the mask figure so he could see the picture you just took. Ethan was dumb founded he didn't know how to react tilting his head down to look at you, you were smiling at him arms still wrapped around his leg as you rested your head on his thigh phone not set down to the side.. God this girl was so stupid he had to take advantage of this.

"wait do you want to use my mouth?" you asked him almost vibrating waiting for him to answer in some sort of way. You felt yourself drip when you saw him nod his head pushing yourself off of him so you can push him on the bed. He sat there still looking at you waiting for you to make a move. and you did you went to move the thick black material off so you could have access to his black pants.

You began to unbutton the pants he wore gasping when his cock just sprung out, he wasn't wearing any undergarments it soaked you up even more. "You came prepared huh" giggling at him. He finally felt you wrap your hand around his cock placing your mouth right above his tip so you could spit on it. You used your spit to lube him up jerking him off, you moved your hand up and down and up and down slowly. "come on say something pretty please, wanna hear you" you whined at him, you loved when men were vocal and he wasn't doing that all so you hated him.

He didn't budge one bit when you begged so you did what had to be done. You took him down your throat nose pressed u against his neatly trimmed pubes, you swallowed around the head of the cock keeping it there for a little making sure to look up at his masked face. You pulled back a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his pink tip. "wanna see you" you begged even more but he didn't listen to you instead his gloved hand went to push at your head signaling you to take him back in your throat.

You bobbed your head making sure to use your hands to jerk off the excess that didn't fit in you tiny mouth. "so big" you'd moan when you pull away from him, you had tears running down your tinted cheeks and you want nothing more than to have him touch you. As if he could read your mind he moved your head so you could pull of his cock, hand on your chin making you look at him lips pouted red and shiny, he could hear the soft fast breaths coming from you. You saw his other hand go for his mask, finally you thought, you saw him lift his mask over his mouth but it didn't go any further.

You saw his mouth move a little before he positioned his mouth over yours making sure to squish your cheeks so you could open your mouth for him. You almost came in your panties untouched as he spat in your mouth making sure you swallowed his spit then doing it again. He lightly slapped your cheek cock twitching at how good you sat there swallowing his spit. He then pushed you back to your original position pulling his mask back down. He didn't even make you wait grabbing his cock which was resting on his lower stomach.

He wanted to see you beg for it so he did a little bit o teasing he lightly tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue making you paw at him causing him to slap you. "come on mr ghost face don't tease me please" you whined at him opening your mouth again and he did not hesitate he stuffed himself down your throat make sure you couldn't move. This action made your eyes water, looking up at him batting your eyelashes trying to make the tears to go away.

You felt him finally let go easing himself out your throat letting you breath just for a second before you felt him do it again but this time you felt him thrust himself fucking himself into your throat. You could hear small soft grunts come from him and he bucked his hips up into your mouth and you just couldn't help but reach your tiny manicured hand down your body slithering into your panties rubbing your little button fast whimpering. Then you heard him, he let out the deepest and raspiest 'fuck' as he came down your throat making sure you didn't get away. He didn't care if you choke he just NEEDED to have your little throat stuffed with him cum.

''Mmm'' you moaned once he pulled out small amounts of his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth. You felt him move his hand from your head to your chin wiping the drool and cum off. You made sure to swallow what he gave you so you wouldn't disappoint him, you still had your hand in your panties and you felt yourself grind against your hand just wanting some sort of release and Ethan noticed that.

He got up from where he sat surprising you when he picked you up and laid you on the edge of the bed. You were placed on your tummy making sure to place a small pillow under your belly, sock covered legs hanging off the edge. He made sure to signal you to arch tour back towards him you obeyed like always cause you just loved pleasing men, I mean as long as they did the same duh. You felt him rub and kneed your inner thighs moaning and whining literally begging him to just do something you just needed him so bad.

He finally gave in pulling your mini skirt down your legs but your panties stayed on. Ethan made sure to tease your cunt through the thin baby pink material, pinching your clit through it then rubbing soft but rough circles. He would pull at the material almost giving you a wedgie but that gave you enough friction on your clit that had you whining.

"Please just touch me please" you felt your hole clench around nothing but air as his gloved hand slapped your ass hard you cried out. When he finally had enough of that he pulled your panties down your legs stuffing them in his pocket for safe keeping. You heard him shuffle behind you and you wondered what he was doing so you went to turn your head but before you could see he pushed your head into the mattress "stay there" he used his voice once again making your legs almost close but his thighs stopped you from doing so.

Ethan had lift his mask off slightly just enough for his mouth and nose be free. He lowered himself to his knees taking the position you were in a couple minutes ago. You gasped loudly into the pillow as you felt his tongue lick a strip down your slit to your clit. Both of his hands went to grab your ass just to kneed them and spread them apart so he can have all of you. You felt his tongue make circles around your nub making sure to suck on It a little before letting go. Ethan had never done this but he's so glad he watched videos of this. He always wanted to eat someone out and now he finally had the chance.

He made sure to spread your lips apart backing up a little and spitting on your cunt watching his drool drop and slip into your hole which was clenching like crazy, poor thing he thought. He heard the most nastiest moan come from your pretty little mouth thank fuck he stuffed your face into that mattress you're so loud. He made sure to lick at your hole loving the feeling of your walls clenching around his tongue moaning into your cunt so you could feel the vibrations on your cunt. You felt one of his cold hand makes its way to your clit rubbing at it and you lost it thighs shaking as he kept the pace of his tongue on your hole. You felt him pull back again both his fingers and mouth left you, you were confused on why but that confusion leave you once you felt his hand slap your mound.

"that hurts so good mister" you moaned as you felt him slap your cunt more and more the more you moaned and whined. You didn't want him to stop touching you, you wanted to be his forever ♥.

Once Ethan stopped his rough treatment you finally felt what you were waiting for, his cock. You felt him rub his cock on your pussy lips making sure to coat it with your wetness. You were such a messy whore and Ethan loved it, he wanted to keep you for ever. You felt his cock head nudge at your clit making you jump at the feeling you felt yourself so close to coming. Ethan had enough of his own teasing and finally he stopped himself into your tiny cunt. You let out a pornographic moan as you felt that tight knot in your tummy snap conning around his thick cock.

"fuck me" you said softly but he heard you and the feeling of you coming around him made him feral. You felt so warm and tight he just couldn't help but fall on top of your small tiny body and fuck up into you make sure to kiss your neck leaving bright red marks as he sucked and licked your skin. You loved the feeling of his heavy big body on top of you taking advantage of you it made you gush even more. Ethan could feel the ring of cum you left at the base of his cock slow began to soap up. This was so gross he could feel your cunt clench trying to keep him in there as he fucked you making sure to hit so deep inside you, literally hitting your cervix at how deep he was.

He just couldn't help it, his gloved hand had made its way up your throat squeezing the sides of your throat making sure to pull you closer to him arching your back even more fucking yourself back into his cock matching his pace.

"You're so dirty" Ethan spoke through his mask. "you know I was gonna kill you right, but no instead I'm having my way with you" his words should make you scared but instead made you moan not wanting him to stop. He felt you get tight again, he knew you were close so he dragged his non gloved hand down your tummy to your nub making sure to rub that little button just enough to have your thighs shake. Hips still fucking into you so rough and fast because he just couldn't get enough of this tight warm soaping pussy he just wanted more.

"Gonna cum please, please cum in me pretty please" you whimpered out just wanting to feel him let go inside of you, wanting to feel his warm milk stuff you full and drip out of you. You felt his pace become a little sloppy at your words but he kept the thrust rough. He just couldn't help at the thought of stuffing you full and claiming you like that he just HAD to do it.

"Gonna stuff you full princess, you're mine" he groaned biting down on the space between your neck and collarbone making you whine and you feel blood drip into his mouth and that made you moan. He continued to groan and moan into your ear gloved hand leaving you throat to grip your hip pistoling into your cunt other hand still on your clit. Then he felt it, he felt you come undone all over his cock with a loud cry and he followed behind making sure to stuff himself fully inside you before cumming.

You felt him thrust into you a couple more time make sure to milk everything from him before pulling out turning you to your back. You could feel everything gush out your cunt and he just couldn't help. He found your phone on the floor making sure to swipe right to open the camera. He made sure to press your legs together with one hand pushing them back against your chest getting a good view of your dripping pussy and adorable fucked out face and taking a picture. You heard the click of the sound of the camera surprising you but not really caring.

"Wait so who are you?" you questioned at this point Ethan was also pussy drunk so he didn't give two fucks. He pulled the hood off his head and proceeded to pull his mask off smirking at your surprised face.

"ETHAN" you exclaimed, mind still hazy but you knew Ethan, he was your best friend. Your best friend just fucked you so good it had you drooling, he literally stuffed himself in you and came inside of you. "What's up bunny, I had fun but now I gotta go" he laughed as you still had a shocked and confused face but said nothing. You just let him tuck himself back into his pants making sure to leave a small kiss on you lips before placing his mask back onto his head walking out the room.

You still sat there as you got a message from your phone, it was Ethan.

E♡: Making this my home screen angel, you look so cute ;) E♡: 1 Image Sent

You gasped as you saw yourself, it was the picture he had taken after he came inside of you. NGL you did look cute you hummed.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 #scream movie #ghost face x reader

[tame-a-messenger]

I know the 1 2 switch videos are usually ianthony vs another duo but I would frickin love to see Angela & Chanse vs Shayne & Damien. Or any video with just those 4 in general, I think it would be awesome. And I know we have the dnd and betrayal but I think a video with just them can be not only hilarious but we can finally get our babies back 😇

I WOULD LOVE THAT!!!!

I could see them doing that! Damien + Shayne and Chanse + Angela is THE 4 I think of when I think of the "don't win" series, (THATS DEFINITELY WHY I LIKE THOSE VIDEOS SO MUCH) so I hope and PRAY we get those 4 in more videos !!!!

The only thing I'm waiting for this year is a (mostly at least plz) Damien + Angela duo video. Like. JUST THEM. They could do LITERALLY ANYTHING and I'd watch kicking my feet and giggling, scarfing down some popcorn, fully entertained.

#Damien Haas #Angela Giarratana #Smosh #chanse mccary #shayne topp #Damngela Dynamic Enjoyer #Smosh Games #Smosh Pit #Damangela #Damien and Angela #Damien x Angela #Damngela #Damien/Angela #smoshblr #video idea #dont win #HOLY FUCKING SHIT I JUST HAD A BRAIN BLAST #stay with me here... #Angela has pretty much made it a staple to dress up as Damien and make fun of him right? #nobody else really does it? #SHES DOING COURTNEY FRICKEN MILLER BUT WITH DAMIEN #ITS LITERALLY THE SAME THING #LIKE #EXACTLY #TELL ME IM WRONG #(not delusional)

[thefreakandthehair]

my fiance walked into the kitchen last night to me in a rolling stones tee shirt and sweatpants, glass of wine in hand, bopping around to linkin park while cooking for easter. and it gave me a cute lil idea! enjoy!

It's a strange thing, holidays with a large family.

Eddie and Wayne don't really do Easter, it having been just the two of them for so many years. Sure, Eddie had woken up to baskets with plastic grass of various pastel colors when he was a kid, when Wayne was determined to give Eddie as normal of an upbringing as possible, but they've never had to plan a meal. There've never been assignments, or coordination, or questions like Who's bringing the mashed potatoes? Either Wayne grabs them at the store, or they don’t have them. Easy peasy.

This year is different. Easter 1987 brings friends, family, and a list that looks a lot like a menu on Steve Harrington's refrigerator. Eddie's name is scrawled in Steve's handwriting next to mashed potatoes, which explains why there's a huge pot of water on the stove and five pounds of potatoes glaring at him on Steve's counter. 

It doesn’t take much to convince Steve, who’s lovesick beyond words unbeknownst to Eddie, to let him take over his larger, better-equipped kitchen for the occasion. A simple pout and the fluttering of his eyelashes as he makes his case: "Please, Stevie? Take pity on poor ol' Eddie with his lack of a stand mixer and counterspace?” 

So he finds himself at the counter, music blasting at what feels like a soothing billion and five decibels, cutting potatoes like the cookbook he finds in the clutter of the trailer illustrates and bopping around to Dio’s Holy Diver. He isn’t much of a cook but there’s something comforting about the monotonous repetition of peeling and cutting, and plopping them into the pot of water. Comforting enough, in fact, that he doesn’t feel Steve’s eyes on him from the doorway, watching with a warm, fond smile. 

Steve watches and lets his thoughts drift, just for a moment, to future holidays. Of Memorial Day picnics, and Fourth of July pool parties, of birthdays, and Thanksgivings, and Christmases, and in all of them, every version and every iteration his hysterical, lovesick brain can conjure in that doorway, he wants this. He wants Eddie with wild hair just barely holding onto the elastic tying it back, with sweatpants that show his level of comfort around Steve, that show he can relax and not put on all of the airs he typically does for his look. Shit, he even wants to hear fucking Dio playing in the kitchen from the goddamn garage if it signals Eddie being present. 

He’s not sure when he started moving, but his body pulls him into the kitchen like the magnet holding the menu to the refrigerator door. 

“Hey,” he says, striding up to stand next to Eddie at the counter. “Need some help?” 

Eddie smiles and takes a sip of the beer Steve hasn’t seen until now, another indicator of Eddie making himself right at home. 

“The King assisting the lowly cook here? In the Castle kitchen? I’m honored.” Eddie fakes what Steve assumes is supposed to be a courtesy. He chuckles and hip bumps Eddie when he straightens back out. 

“Oh shut it and scoot over.” Steve’s voice betrays him, too syrupy and sweet to carry any annoyance, and Eddie notices. He turns just slightly, watching as Steve rummages through a drawer for a second knife. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually want to spend your morning making mashed potatoes with me, Steve.” 

He’s caught. Steve’s caught, hook, line, and sinker, and something about the genuine curiosity and hope in Eddie’s voice makes that okay. He doesn’t mind being caught when he’s in the safety of this domestic bubble with Eddie, because that’s what it is. It’s safe. 

The first round of potatoes don’t come out well. Their first kiss over the gloppy, gummy potatoes though? That goes perfectly.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #i'm gonna be late getting ready because i just needed to get this thought out lmao #easter

[sugar-coat-it]

hi belle! what do you think body piercer is like as a bf 👉👈

also would you do an alphabet or something for him? lowkey dying for more content for him

Hiii!! <3 

Omgggg wait wait let me tell you some details

He’s very much into punk rock (Fugazi, Rage Against The Machine, etc.) and lives in his band tees. Much like the back room of the parlor, a lot of his stuff is covered in stickers for his fav bands. So I think he’d really like to introduce his girl to his music if she’s willing to try it out, it would mean a lot to him!

Whenever he picks her up, he’s always blasting music LOUD so she knows when he arrives 

Big fan of CDs. You can bet your ass that he’s burning CDs for her for all sorts of things. Songs that remind him of her, songs he wants to fuck her to. Some of them are stupid too, like “Good Shit” scrawled in black Sharpie on a disc. Sometimes he’ll scribble little drawings on there too. His handwriting is shit and she loves it.

Also music related, he's an amazing concert bf, always making sure she can see and no one is getting too close to her. He'd be SO PROUD if she went to a punk rock show with him

Now… if she ever did say she was interested in getting another piercing of any kind, he is begging her to let him do it for her (for free, with princess treatment). He’s very much like “fuck yeah, do it” whenever she brings up a tatt or piercing of any kind

Quietly cuddling, he’s tracing her features with his finger, he comes to the bridge of her nose and he’s suddenly like “You have a good nose for a septum piercing” and she’s like “???”

He remembers everything about her, and he makes a point to, even if he has to write sticky note reminders to himself sometimes (ADHD brain as hell)

This man SMOKES. My god his marijuana tolerance level is ungodly. If his girlie is into it too, it would be the joy of his life to roll spliffs for her.

Big fan of getting baked with her, putting on music, and then going off about the album’s impact on the music world because he knows she likes listening to him talk, and none of his boys let him ramble on nearly as much

The late-night diner visits after hotboxing his car go CRAZY (side note, don’t ask me why, but I feel like he has a rubber duck on his dashboard)

One time after a smoke session they built a fort in his room and made out for close to an hour, all giggly and hazy

I think he’d like to let his girl paint his nails. He prefers black, but he wouldn’t mind painting his nails the same shade as girlie’s so they can match

He also let her braid his mohawk once… lol

Tea had sent me an idea about this, but he’d absolutely buy her engraved jewelry. Like… barbells with hearts that have little M’s engraved on them??? Holy shit 

Also, from a discussion with B, HE GOES SO FERAL WHEN SHE GOES BRALESS AND HE CAN SEE HER PIERCINGS THROUGH HER TOP

He keeps a Polaroid picture of her both in his wallet and at the desk in the shop 

If anyone asks about it he’s like “THAT’S THE LIGHT OF MY FUCKING LIFE”

Veeery possessive. Not to a toxic point, but she is his, and he makes sure that everyone is aware in his own little ways 

He likes to be touching her almost all the time. Whether it’s an arm lazily slung around her shoulders or lacing their pinkie fingers together

Really likes love bites. One time he left hickeys in the shape of a heart on her collarbone 

Y’all remember that hip pouch thing he wore during the 2020 era? That but it’s filled with his girl’s things like her lipstick or her wallet so she doesn’t have to carry them

Teenage boy humor. Hella “that’s what she said” jokes

He forgets stuff at her place constantly. She’s starting to wonder if it’s on purpose at this point. Maybe it’s his own way of feeling like a more permanent part of her life

Finding his jewelry on her dresser, his lighter on her coffee table, a hoodie hung by the door

Sometimes he’ll leave his keys and come running back into her place just to end up messily kissing her against the wall

Overall, I think he probably looks a little intimidating to people because he has a mohawk and wears chains and platform boots but he’s such a sweetheart oh my god anon. He just loves her so so so much, and he’s so gentle with her. I love him. So much. That’s my baby.

And as for an alphabet, maybe! I’d be happy to if that’s something you guys would want to see

#WAHHH #my mohawked pride and joy #body piercer!matty #asks #matty healy x reader

[writing-and-wondering]

Scared to Love you - I

Pairing: Hangman x Reader

Warnings: Passing out, Swearing

Request: yes! by a lovely anon, find it here

Word Count: 7.9k 

Synopsis: Due to some grueling training and the extreme heat, you find yourself passing out from heat exhaustion. Luckily, Hangman is there to catch you. 

A/n: first Hangman fic lets goooo ! love this guy and it was such a pleasure writing for him :)

GIF by @unicornships

You lean your head back against the leather couch, noting with a groan how the fan above you is doing little to alleviate the heat sticking to your skin. Though it’s on full blast and shaking so much you think it might fly off the ceiling, it feels as though it’s doing absolutely nothing. 

From beside you, Fanboy lets out a gasp as he refreshes the weather app for the twelfth time. 

“Please tell me that it isn’t hotter from the last time you checked.” You mutter, reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat off your forehead as you glance over at him. 

Fanboy makes a face, his mouth opening as he goes to speak but is interrupted as Hangman walks over, “Hate to break it to you, but it did in fact just got hotter. Now that I’m here, that is.” He says with a grin, taking a seat on the other couch. 

You glare at him, “You’re insufferable. Especially now.” 

All he does is wink at you and despite how much you’re already sweating, you hate how heat rises to your face from the simple action. Damn him, you think as you let your head fall back against the leather. 

“How hot is it really, though?” Hangman asks, leaning forward as Fanboy tilts his phone towards him, “Holy shit.” 

You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, “Do I even want to know the temperature?” 

“If you want to be able to prepare yourself for when you’re up for training.” Fanboy responds. Suppressing another groan, you unstick yourself from the couch and lean forward so that you’re arms are resting atop your knees, “Just tell me.” 

“117 degrees.” 

“Fuck me.” You sigh, your head dropping into your hands.

“Well, only if you let me take you out to dinner first.” Hangman says, and you can hear the smug grin in his voice. Not even bothering to look at him, you let your hand do the talking as you flip him the bird. 

Fanboy laughs at the exchange, “Wow, the tension here is making me sweat.” 

“Dude, you’re literally already glistening.” Hangman states. 

“You’re no better, my guy.” Payback says as he plops down next to Hangman, his flight suit tied around his waist in an attempt to not over heat. You hear more footsteps and look up as the others walk in, having just finished their time in the air for the day. 

Eyeing Rooster, you sit up a little as he approaches, “How is it out there?” You ask as he practically collapses onto the bar stool across from you. He just shakes his head, unzipping his flight suit, “It’s so hot and humid out there it feels like we’re walking through Satan’s ass.” 

“Ew, man, what the hell.” Payback groans. 

Rooster just shrugs, “It’s true. You’ll see, they’re calling the next teams up in a minute.” 

“Lord help me. I’m going to melt out there.” You say, shoving your flight suit off your shoulders, “God, the AC in here sucks.”

“You’d think it’d be better since it’s like, the military. But, no. No, they hate us.” Fanboy mutters as he drains the last of his water. 

Hangman chuckles, “Considering how much they need us they really to like to see us suffer.” 

You nod along as he speaks, the uncomfortable feeling of sweat rolling down your back making you antsy, “But come on, they couldn’t spare a little on some decent air conditioning? I mean, my apartment has better AC than this and it’s from the fucking 1800′s.” 

The others make grunts of agreement, the heat seemingly melting their brains to form any other type of response. What you would give right now to get an ice bath. 

Looking over, you almost leap out of your seat as you see Phoenix and Bob return, arms full of bottles of water, “Your saviors are here!” Phoenix says as she hands out the water. 

“You’re an angel, Phe.” You say as you catch the bottle she tosses to you, the condensation from the cold water breathing some life back into you. You drain the water in less than a minute, the coolness spreading through you and leaving you gasping for air as you bring the empty bottle back down. 

The room falls into silence, save for the crinkling of water bottles, as the others do the same. “I’m going to need like seven more of these little blue bitches.” Payback says as he finishes off his drink, his fingers running along the wrapper as he draws on the condensation. 

“Be my guest to go find more.” Phoenix tells him, “I swear we had to go clear to the other side of the base for some cold ones. Everyone’s clearing them out like it’s the damn apocalypse.” 

“May as well be. It feels like the world’s on fire.” Bob admits, holding his now half full bottle against the back of his neck. Watching him do it, you wish you had held off enough water to be able to do the same. But you didn’t, and now you’re just sitting here sticking to the leather sofa in the unyielding heat. 

The room falls into silence once more, until the admiral walks into the room, waving his hand to keep you all from standing at attention. You look over as he addresses you, “Alright, next team to go up will be Hangman, Artemis, and Phoenix and Bob. Get your gear on and head out there, even though it’s hotter than hell.” And with that he walks out of the room, using his clipboard to fan himself.

You groan at the idea of moving, the heat weighing down your limbs. Rubbing at your eyes, you’re just about to get up when you notice Hangman offering his hand to you. Raising your eyebrow at him, he just smiles in response, “You seem like you could use some help.” 

If your face wasn’t already so red from how hot you were, you would’ve been embarrassed at how fast the heat rose to your cheeks. But in this moment you couldn’t find it in you to care as you took Hangman’s hand and accepted his help in quite literally unsticking you from the couch. 

Now standing, you're close enough to him to smell his cologne that somehow masks any scent of sweat. You feel him squeeze your hand before letting go, another simple wink from him leaving you stunned. 

“Alright, Artemis. Let’s go- as Rooster said- have some fun in Satan’s ass.” Hangman laughs at himself before walking towards the door. 

“That still sounds nasty, man.” Payback calls after him. Shaking your head, you pat Payback’s shoulder as you pass, “At least you don’t have to fly with him.” You say. 

“Ooh. I wish you luck.” He tells you, to which you wave your hand at him without turning around, “Thanks. I’ll need it.” 

Once in the locker room, you splash cold water on your face and neck before going to get the rest of your gear on. Phoenix shares your look of discomfort as the two of you get ready. 

“Great, more layers. Just what I wanted.” You mutter, sweat already rolling down your neck again. Phoenix nods in agreement, “Let’s just get through this and then before we know it we’ll all be drinking ice cold beers at the Hard Deck.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me with a good time.” You say with a grin, thankful to Phoenix for being able to bring light to the situation. 

She shifts her vest on, “I swear, the minute I get a drink I’m going into the ocean with it, I don’t even care.” 

You lean your head against the lockers, “God, that sounds so good right now. I would literally fly into the ocean if it meant being able to cool off.” 

Phoenix laughs and then fixes you with a pair of squinted eyes, “Don’t actually do that though.” 

Raising your eyebrows at her, you shrug, “Why not? I’ve done it before.” 

As the two of you walk out of the locker room she gapes at you, “Huh?”

You can’t help but laugh at her expression, “Oh, don’t tell me that you’ve never heard this story before.”

“Heard what story?” The two of you look over as Hangman joins you, followed by Bob. Phoenix gives her WSO a fist bump before answering, “The story of when Artemis apparently flew into the ocean.” 

“What?” Bob sputters, his eyes wide. You roll your eyes at his and Hangman’s shocked expression as the four of you make your way to the tarmac, “Well, crashed into the ocean. But yeah, it was a couple of years ago and honestly wouldn’t mind doing it again today.”

Bob nudges your arm, “Please don’t. That look of yours makes me unsure on if you’re serious or not.” 

You simply pat his shoulder as you smile at him, “Well, we’ll just have to find out now won’t we?” 

As you push open the doors, you’re immediately hit with the thick air that takes the breath out of your lungs for a moment. Slipping on your aviators, you find that they do little to stop the blazing sun from making it feel like your eyeballs are about to melt out of your head. 

“This is disgusting.” You say, pulling at your collar as you make your way to your jet. Hangman reaches over and squeezes your shoulder, “Good thing you’re here then to make it all better.” He says to you. 

You stop next to your jet and fix him with a stare, the way he said it making your heart flutter, “Was that sarcasm? Are you joking with me right now, Seresin?” 

He doesn’t answer, but there he goes again with winking at you and making your stomach do front flips. Hangman gives you a little wave as he smiles, “How about we give everyone a show, huh?” 

You roll your eyes, but a smile still finds its way onto your face, “Lead the way, Hangman.” 

“Aye! Stop eye-fucking and get in your jets so we can get this over with!” Phoenix yells over to you both from where she’s already sitting in her own jet. 

You and Hangman share a look, the two of you barely suppressing your laughter as you smile at each other. He gives you a fist bump before jogging over to his jet and climbing in, you doing the same. 

Upon getting set up and closing your canopy, the air feels a little more stuffy but the familiar hum of the engine takes away from your discomfort. Though you would much rather be swimming somewhere in the ice cold water, nothing can ever diminish how much you truly love flying. 

Glancing over as Hangman starts moving his jet towards the take off point, you realize that it isn’t just your love for the sky that is easing your troubles. 

Whipping your jet around, you feel your stomach flip as you come back from being inverted, the sun seemingly spinning around you as you right yourself. Gripping onto the lever, you pull back just as you complete the maneuver that you all had been tirelessly working to perfect. 

“WHOOO!!! That’s how it’s done!” Hangman cheers as he brings his jet up next to yours. You look over and see him positively beaming at you and you’re sure your heart is about to jump out of your chest. After unclipping your mask, you smile back at him and knock on the canopy with your fist, “That was awesome!” 

He throws his head back in laughter, the sound of it like honey to your ears. Shaking your head a little from where your mind was drifting to, you look over to the left at Phoenix as she speaks, “I’m pretty sure we beat our own record with that. It was literally perfect.”

“Of course it was, I’m team leader.” Hangman says, his voice dripping with confidence. 

“Barely. Pretty sure Artemis did more leading than you, Bagman.” Bob cuts in, though his tone is one you recognize to be joking. Chuckling at his comment, you look over to Hangman only to see him staring in Bob’s direction with his mouth open in shock. 

“Low blow, Bob.” He mutters, his eyes squinting toward the man. 

You look back to the left and see Bob shrugging, “I only speak the truth.” 

“Alright kids, let’s head back. I’m in desperate need of a cold shower.” Phoenix says as she turns her jet to the side and heads back to the ground. You follow, “Aren’t we all.” 

As you descend, the adrenaline from the successful maneuver begins wearing off, leaving your mind a little hazy. You can hear the muffled voices of the others speaking, but all you find yourself focusing on is how hard it is to catch your breath all of a sudden. 

You shake your head, blinking rapidly as the tarmac comes into view. You’re following Phoenix’s jet and reach up to rub your eyes when suddenly there’s two of her. Taking a deep breath, you tightly grip the lever as you line your jet up for landing. 

There’s a muffled voice in your ear and it takes a little too much for you to simply respond, “What?” Though you're not entirely sure who was speaking. 

“You’re looking a little low there, Artemis.” Hangman’s voice comes across to you, “Pull up a bit. There you go.” His words bring the smallest amount of focus back to you, just enough so that you’re able to successfully land without any issues. 

As your jet rolls to a stop, your hands fall away from the controls and you lean back against your seat, breathing hard. Shaking your head again, your wipe the sweat from your eyes before opening the canopy. 

You’re vaguely aware of it moving as you stare ahead, a loud ringing in your ears. Your body doesn’t feel like it's your own as you lift yourself out of the jet and climb down the ladder, your hands shaking slightly. 

Once your feet are back on the ground, you find yourself unable to let go of the metal rungs as you star at the tarmac beneath your boots. Blinking hard, you squeeze your eyes shut as your head spins. 

A gentle hand on your shoulder brings you to open your eyes again, looking to the side to find who the hand belongs to. In staring at them, you can see that their lips are moving but you hear nothing. 

The ringing in your ears grows as you fumble with the strap on your helmet before clumsily taking it off, barely feeling it leave your grasp as it tumbles to the ground. You stare up at the man talking to you, “What?” You ask, your voice coming out weak and distant. 

You barely catch the way Hangman’s expression creases in concern, his other hand coming up to cup the side of your face, “You with me, Artemis?” He sounds as though he’s underwater as he speaks, leaving you feeling very confused as you’re certain that you aren’t underwater. Right?

Taking a deep breath, or at least trying to, your hand drops from the metal rungs of the ladder in favor of gripping onto Hangman’s wrist, “Why are you so quiet?” You ask, looking at him with squinted eyes as the sun burns down on you. 

He shakes his head, his eyebrows drawn together, “I’m not- are you okay?” 

You nod, blinking hard as you step away from his hold, “Yeah. ‘M fine.” You answer him, feeling as though you’re trudging through mud as you force your feet to move forward. Reaching up, you hold your hand above your eyes in an attempt to block the sun. 

Hangman’s voice drifts over to you but the ringing in your ears keeps you from fully hearing him. A part of you plans to just ignore him in favor of focusing on walking forward, but you think better of it and turn to face him. 

As you do, your vision blurs as the world tilts sideways. You stagger to the side just before finding yourself on your knees. You’re left staring down at the tarmac, confused for just a moment before gentle hands find their way to your arms. 

Looking up, you lose all feeling in your body just as you fall backwards. All you can see is Hangman’s panicked face in front of you as your world fades to black. 

Hangman is still jittery from the team’s success in the sky as he practically jumps out of his jet. He waves at Phoenix and Bob, who wave back before turning to finish up their final checks. Despite the heat, Hangman swears he has never felt better. 

There’s just something about things going perfectly that fill him with a type of joy that reminds him of just how much he loves what he does. Ducking under the nose of his jet, Hangman smiles as he catches sight of you descending your ladder. 

“Artemis!” He calls, his hand waving over to you. His smile drops ever so slightly when you don’t respond. As he walks closer, he watches as you stop at the base of your ladder, still gripping tightly to the rungs. 

His pace quickens and all traces of his smile are gone as he jogs up to you, his hand coming up to rest on your arm, “Hey, you okay?” 

Your lack of response fills him with the beginnings of panic, and just a little bit of hurt. His first thought is of you just ignoring him, but upon bending down a bit to get a better look at your face, he throws that thought out the window. 

He should’ve known something was wrong when you started to get a little unsteady during your landing. Gripping your arm a little tighter, Hangman tries again, “Artemis?” 

The relief he feels when you finally look at him in unmeasurable. Though, as he meets your eyes and sees how unfocused they are, that relief is overthrown by his growing panic. 

“What?” You ask him, your voice not nearly as strong as it usually is. Hangman feels his throat tighten as he reaches up to hold the side of your face, just to keep you looking at him, “You with me, Artemis?” 

His heart rate quickens as you let go of the ladder and hold onto his wrist, your grip barely there, “Why are you so quiet?” You ask. Hangman blinks at you, his hold on your arm tightening once more, “I’m not- are you okay?”

Though he hates to, he allows you to shrug him off as you nod, “Yeah. ‘M fine.” Hangman watches as you turn away from him, but he leaves his hands still outstretched towards you. He isn’t quite sure what’s going on with you, but not one part of him likes it. 

The second he sees your feet misstep he’s following close behind you, “Artemis, I don’t think you’re okay.” Hangman cringes at the way his voice wavers ever so slightly. He’s reaching out to you again as you turn to face him, your mouth open as if you’re about to say something. 

But it never comes, for you stumble to the side and fall to your knees before Hangman can even breathe. The sight of you falling sends him into overdrive and he’s by your side in under a second, his hands holding onto your arms. 

“Artemis?” He asks, his voice filled with panic as you blearily look up at him before your eyes roll into the back of your head. Hangman hardly has time to react as you go limp in his hold, your head jerking backwards as you fall. He stumbles and skids his knees on the tarmac as he catches your head. 

Brining your body close to him, Hangman pushes the hair that was stuck to your cheek back, “Hey, hey- Artemis? Artemis?” He asks, his voice growing with panic as your body jerks a little. 

“Shit, shit-” Hangman doesn’t know what to do as he looks up, his eyes frantically searching around for help. He lands on Phoenix and Bob, who have their backs turned. 

“Hey! Hey- get help! We need help!” Hangman yells, causing both pilots to whip around. Upon seeing your collapsed form in Hangman’s arms, Bob takes off running to get the medics as Phoenix hurries over to you. 

“What- what happened?” She asks, kneeling down beside you as she grabs your wrist. Hangman shakes his head as he watches her check your pulse, “I don’t- I don’t know! She was out of it a-and then she just-” His breath catches in his throat as he looks down at you. 

All of the color was gone from your face and your eyelids were fluttering violently. Phoenix grips onto Hangman’s arms, which brings his attention back to her, “We need to get her inside- now.”

Hangman is nodding and lifting you up before she’s even finished speaking. The way your body just falls against him pulls at his heart in a way that makes it hard to breathe. 

Phoenix runs ahead of him and holds open the door. Hangman watches your head as he rushes through the doorway, frantically searching for help. Before he’s even a couple of steps into the building, he almost collides with Bob as the man comes sprinting around the corner. 

“Medics!” Bob exclaims, his eyes wide, “I got the-” He cuts himself off as he steps out of the way of the nurses, his hands motioning towards the stretcher they’re pushing. 

Barely processing what’s happening, Hangman rushes forward and gently places you onto the bed, barely daring to even breathe as he catches your hand and grips onto it before it drops over the side. 

The nurses begin rolling the bed through the halls, Phoenix and Bob running ahead of them to open doors as they move towards the med wing. The whole way Hangman is by your side, his eyes not leaving you as he holds onto your hand so tightly he loses feeling in his own. 

Just as they reach the med wing, a gentle hand on his chest stops him. Your hand is pulled out of his grasp as they push the bed away, just for you to disappear out of his view as the doors close. 

“I- I have to-” Hangman starts but the nurse in front of him gently grabs onto his forearm. She gives him an understanding look, “We’ve got her from here, Lieutenant. You’re welcome to stay out here until she’s steady again, okay?” 

Hangman blinks at the nurse, her words coming across muffled to him. After a minute though it clicks, and all he can do is nod. She offers him a smile, “We’ll let you know as soon as we can.” And with that she walks to the doors that you had just passed through moments before. 

He stands there for a minute, staring at the doors as they swing closed. Glancing down, he finds that his hands are trembling. Shaking his head, he reaches up and runs them over his face as he takes in a deep breath. 

“Hangman?” Phoenix’s soft voice pulls his attention away from the doors. Looking at her and Bob, he finds that for once he doesn’t have it in him to say anything. 

Without speaking, Phoenix leads him over to the chairs, understanding in her eyes. As he sits down, Hangman’s eyes lock onto a broken floor tile and his gaze stays glued to it as Phoenix reassures him that everything will be fine. 

He knows they’re both talking to him, but he has no idea what they’re saying. All he can focus on is how he had watched the color drain from your face and barely caught you before your head hit the ground. Gripping onto the armrests of the chair, Hangman blinks hard as he feels the sting of hot tears. 

“Get some rest, okay?” Is what he finally catches from Phoenix before her and Bob make their leave. He just nods at them before leaning forward and dropping his head into his hands. 

Hangman’s eyes are closed when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. He looks up as they stop in front of him, and he offers the smallest smile when he sees Phoenix. She smiles back before motioning to the seat next to him, “May I?” 

“Please.” He nods, folding his arms across his body. 

Phoenix lets out a sigh, “How are you doing?” 

Hangman shrugs, “Fine.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t push it. Instead, she looks him over, “Did you shower?” 

Nodding, Hangman runs a hand through his hair, “Yeah. Rooster came and got me to take one with him.” 

He glances over and sees Phoenix’s expression buffer for a second, “You... showered with Rooster?”

“Yeah.” Hangman says before his brain finally catches up, “Wait- no. No, no. We didn’t- I didn’t shower with him. I just- He came and got me but we didn’t-”

“I know.” Phoenix chuckles, “I figured.” 

Letting his head fall against the wall, he lets out a breath of laugh, “Oh, you are an ass.” 

She just grins at him, “Did you eat?” She asks, changing the subject. He raises an eyebrow at her, “Yeah, before we went up in the air, remember?” 

“The last time you ate was before the training session?” Phoenix asks, the sudden concern in her voice causing Hangman to fix her with a confused look, “...Yeah? It was only a couple of hours ago.” 

“Jake, that was seven hours ago.” She states. 

Hangman’s mouth goes dry, “Wha- seven?” There’s no way it had already been that long. He had been sitting here in the waiting room this entire time, save for the ten minutes he allowed himself to step away for a shower.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Phoenix reached over and dropped something in Hangman’s lap. Looking down, he saw that it was a bottle of water and a sandwich wrapped in plastic. 

“I figured you probably hadn’t eaten.” She admits, motioning for him to dig in. He shoots her a thankful look before doing just that, only now realizing how hungry he was. 

As he finished his sandwich and had taken a couple of gulps of water, Phoenix cleared her throat, “Have you told her?” She asks. 

Almost choking on his water, Hangman looks over to her in confusion, “Sorry?” 

Phoenix’s gaze softened, “Jake, I’ve known you for a long time. And never once have I ever seen you react like that. To anything.”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Hangman shrugs, “I was worried. That’s all.”

Phoenix shakes her head at his answer, “That wasn’t just worry and you know it.” Hangman feels his throat tighten. He had done good hiding his feelings, hadn’t he?

From his lack of response, Phoenix decided to continue, “You really care about her, don’t you?” 

Dropping his gaze to his hands, Hangman chewed on his lip, “Yeah.” Is all he can think to say. Because it’s true. He does care about you... but it’s also so much more than that. So much more. 

He can feel Phoenix staring at him and it takes more than he thought it would to lift his eyes to meet hers. Once met, Phoenix’s expression softens into one that he had never seen before. 

“Do you love her?” She asks, her voice impossibly quiet. 

Blinking at her for a moment, it takes a second before her question hits him. Letting out a slow breath, he leans his head against the wall, his mind filled with nothing but you. All entirely you. 

“Yeah.” He breathes out, “I do. I really do.” 

Phoenix hums, and Hangman can tell that she already knew the answer to the question before she even asked it. 

“Why haven’t you said anything, then?” She questions, turning her body so that she’s facing him full on. All Hangman can do is shrug as he thinks of what to say. 

He clears his throat and sniffs as he picks at the skin on his hands, “I guess... I don’t know.” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t want to fall in love with her.” 

As he says it out loud, it shocks him just as much as he can tell it does Phoenix. She falls back against her seat, letting out a slow breath before she speaks, “What do you mean by that?”

Hangman looks at her as his gut twists with the feelings that he’s been trying to ignore since the day he met you. Running a hand down his face, he inhales deeply before trying to explain, “I... I flirt a lot and I make jokes, but I never expect them to lead anywhere, you know? I know that I come off as this cocky, confident ass who knows exactly what I’m doing- which I do but-” 

His ramble is cut off by Phoenix as she cocks her head to the side, “Where is this going?” Her exasperated look brings a slight chuckle out of him as he shakes his head, “Sorry, sorry. What I’m trying to say is despite how I act and everything... I care far more than I let on.”

Hangman’s voice trails off a bit, his words getting caught in his throat as his brain scrambles for the right things to say. Phoenix stays quiet as she urges him to continue, which he does after a moment, “I guess I thought acting like I didn’t care would make it true, but all it’s done is make it clear to me just how much I do care. Not just about Artemis, but about all of you. I don’t know if you even know it but-”

“We do.” Phoenix reassures him as she pats his arm, “We know, of course we do.” 

He shoots her a grateful smile before continuing, “And with Artemis... I don’t know- I mean, the thought of falling in love has always been in the back of my mind but I never thought it would actually happen, you know? Especially not with someone like her.”

Phoenix is quiet for a moment, “Did you not mean to fall in love?” She asks hesitantly. Hangman sighs, “I don’t think anyone ever means to... but, I just... I didn’t want to. With what we do...” He looks up to the ceiling, imagining what the night sky looks like above. 

“Every time we go up there’s no guarantee that we’re going to come back down.” He says simply, “I couldn’t... I didn’t want to fall in love with her... or even act upon it because I couldn’t bare the thought of leaving her alone. I couldn’t do that.” 

His eyes stray on the ceiling tiles before they drift to Phoenix, who stares back at him with an expression full of nothing but sweet understanding. Her hold on his arm tightens a little as she speaks, “Being in this line of work, every pilot knows the risks. We’re actively aware of them every time we fly and though we may not like them, we accept them. We accept the risks.” 

Hangman nods along with her words, but his throat tightens in a way that doesn’t allow him to speak. Phoenix catches on to his silence and continues, her voice quiet but stern, “I’ve known Artemis for a long time. She’s one of the most talented, strongest people I’ve ever met. I’ve never known her not to do something out of fear of what could happen. Once she’s set on something, there’s no changing her mind... even despite the risks.”

He knows this about you, he’s seen it. That’s part of why he just completely and utterly adores you. You were never one to back away, despite being scared, though you never let anyone know it. And you never failed to make him laugh with whatever remark you could think of to retaliate against his stupid comments. 

Hangman smiles at the thought, though his voice stays quiet. Phoenix pats his arm, “Tell her. Part of being in love is being scared, but if you just talk to her... it won’t be so scary anymore.” 

Nodding, Hangman breathes out deeply before fixing Phoenix with a grin, “Since when did you get so wise?” 

She smiles, “Always have been. You’ve just refused to acknowledge it.” 

He laughs sarcastically, throwing his head back for emphasis. Phoenix lightly hits his bicep, but he notices that she’s laughing too. 

Balling up the plastic from his sandwich, Hangman nods to her, “Thanks for the food. And for the pep talk.” 

“Anytime.” She responds before getting to her feet and brushing off her pants, “I’m going to head to bed, you should try to get some rest too.”

He gives her a two finger salute, “I’ll try.”

She hums before motioning to his water, “I want you to finish that and then go get another one.” Hangman chuckles as he twists off the cap of his half emptied bottle, “Okay, mom.” 

Rolling her eyes, Phoenix turns on her heel, “Night, Hangman.” 

“See ya, Phoenix.” He responds, watching her go until she disappears down the hall and out of the doors. Doing as he was told, Hangman drains the rest of his water before tossing it in the recycling. He walks over to the vending machine and presses the buttons for water. 

After watching it clamor off the shelf, Hangman reaches down and retrieves the drink from the bottom. 

Sitting back down in the uncomfortable chair, he rests his head against the wall and allows his eyes to slip closed. His last thought before he drifts off is of you. 

A soft shake to his shoulder is what wakes him. Opening his eyes, Hangman sits up when he sees the nurse standing in front of him, a clipboard in her arm, “Are you here for Lieutenant Y/L/n?”

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Hangman nods as he gets to his feet, “Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his heart rate picking up as he waits for the nurse's response. 

She smiles gently, “She’s fine. She just woke up, if you’d like to see her?” 

All he can do is nod before the nurse is leading him down to your room. He can hear his heart beating loudly in his ears as his feet carry him through the hall, his hands fidgeting restlessly at his sides. 

The nurse stops in front of a door labeled B2 and turns to face him, “She’s on some medication so she may seem a little out of it but she’s going to be completely fine.” 

As soon as the words reach him, he feels an unmeasurable amount of relief flood through him, “Okay, thank you. Thank you.” 

She gives him one last smile before stepping away and heading into another room. Reaching for the door handle, Hangman finds himself freezing with his hand clasped around the cool metal. A thousand thoughts scramble through his mind before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. 

Turning the handle and hesitantly entering the room, his relief only grows when he sees you sitting up in the hospital bed. You’re in an old academy shirt and sweat pants, the sight of you not in a hospital gown eases his worries ever so slightly. He wasn’t sure if he could handle anything that might make you seem worse off than he thought you were. 

As he closes the door behind him, it feels as though his heart practically lights up when you look at him, a smile finding its home on your face at the sight of him. In just seeing you smile at him, he has to stop himself from dropping down on his knee right then and there. 

God, he loves you.

Quiet beeping is the first thing you notice, the second being the scratchy sheets underneath your fingertips. Opening your eyes, you squint at the florescent lights before taking a moment to look around.

You’re confused for a moment as you take in the hospital room and the IV’s connected to your arm. Poking at them, you frown. What happened?

The door opening brings your attention away from your arm and to the doctor entering the room. She gives you a smile, “Looks like someone’s finally awake.” She says as she walks over and checks through your chart. You watch her flip through the pages, still confused. 

Peering over her clipboard, you can see when she notices your confusion, “How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” 

You swallow, “Uh, thirsty.” 

Nodding, she heads over to the sink and fills you up a cup of water before handing it to you. You thank her before draining it in a matter of seconds, feeling the cool liquid flow through you. 

“Do you remember what happened?” She asks you, looking over the machines that are off to the side of your bed. You think for a moment. 

“Um..” You say, leaning your head against the pillow. “We were flying... but then once I got back to the tarmac I started feeling... weird.” You tell her, the events of before blurring in your mind. 

She hums as she leans over and places her stethoscope against your chest. It’s cold against you skin as she talks to you, “You passed out from heat exhaustion.” She informs before returning her instrument to its home around her neck, “Why they had you go up in the air when it was pushing close to 125 degrees, I don’t know.” 

Biting your lip, you wring your hands together as you think back to earlier. You remember the excitement from completing the maneuver- completing it perfectly. But then how disoriented and distant you felt comes back to you, the feeling of the metal ladder still beneath your hands. 

“I will say, you’re lucky your friends were able to get you here so quickly, or else we’d be having a very different conversation right now.” The doctor’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. 

You turn to her, a question playing on your lips, “My friends?” 

She nods, “Lieutenants Seresin, Trace, and Floyd. They alerted my staff and we were able to get you help within minutes of you losing consciousness. I was very impressed with them.” 

That’s right, you were out flying with them. You remember how Hangman was the one who came over to ask if you were okay. How he was right by your side when you passed out. 

How he was the one who caught you. 

You feel your heart rate pick up and heat flood to your face, nothing but his concerned voice playing on loop through your mind. 

“Lieutenant?” The doctor asks. You turn to her, “Can I see him?” 

She looks taken aback by the urgency in your voice, but then understanding filters across her features, “Of course. Let me just finish up here and then I’ll have someone get him for you.” 

You nod, the rest of what she does goes by in a haze and before you know it you’re left alone in the room. Looking down, you tug on a loose string on your shirt, thankful to not be in a hospital gown. 

You never were one for hospitals, the pristine cleanliness of the room and the bright fluorescents bringing you nothing but discomfort. Sipping at the new cup of water the doctor had given you before she left, you try to focus on something else. 

The ticking of the clock almost sounds as though it’s mocking you, each click only adding to your uneasiness. Sitting up on the bed, you fold your legs together in front of you, resting your hands impatiently in your lap. 

You’re just about ready to jump out of the bed and go see what’s taking so long when the door opens, revealing the very man who ensured that you got here. Watching as he walks in and gently closes the door behind him, all of your uneasiness seems to melt away the second you meet his gaze. 

The relief in just having him here in front of you makes you feel fuzzy, but in a good way. The best way. A smile makes its way to your face, and you can think to do nothing but hold out your hand to him. 

Surprise floods across his features for just a moment before he’s taking your hand and sitting down on the edge of the bed, his thumb circling gently across your knuckles. 

As you watch him, you feel your heart pick up and heat rise in your face. Though this time, you can’t find it in you to care about the heat. Not with him sitting right there, holding your hand in such a way that dissipates every worry you ever had. 

Not quite knowing what to say or do, you slowly reach towards him and cup the side of his face, tilting his head up so that he’s looking at you. Meeting him with a smile, you gently brush your thumb across his cheek, “Hey.” 

He relaxes into your touch, “Hey.” You don’t miss how uncharacteristically quiet he is, or how he’s holding your hand as if it’s the only thing anchoring him down, “You okay?” You ask softly. 

He huffs out a laugh, reaching up to take your other hand in his own, “I feel like I should be the one asking you that.”

You squeeze his hands, “I’m okay.” Leaning forward, you’re so close to him now that you can smell the sweet honey of his cologne, “Thanks to you.” 

And does he ever just look at you. As your eyes meet, you’re overwhelmed with everything that’s swimming within the sea of blues staring back at you. Hangman studies your face for a moment before taking a deep breath, “You really scared me, you know.” 

Your brows crease together as a frown pulls down on your lips, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t have to be, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” 

“But I can understand.” You tell him, “How scary it is, I mean... to see someone just... collapse like that.” 

He stares back at you, his eyes searching for something but you’re not quite sure what, “That’s the thing... it wasn’t just someone. It was you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as he speaks, your head shaking slightly, “I don’t-”

“I know I can be an ass sometimes.” Hangman interrupts you quickly. You blink, your mind almost short circuiting because where did that come from? He takes your confused silence as a sign to continue, “I know how annoying you find me and-and that you can’t stand me but seeing you- watching you fall and being barely able to catch you made me realize something.” 

Your chest tightens, your heart beating so loud in your ears that you’re surprised you can even hear him as he goes on, “I... I realized that I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to be scared of- of what I feel, or what sort of unpredictable things could happen in this life.”

“Jake...” You start but he shakes his head and pulls your hands to his chest, “I have spent so much of my life being scared- being scared of things that I almost never even got the chance to have.” 

All you can do is stare at him, a million thoughts racing through your head. A part of you is searching for how to respond while the other part is so eager to hear what he has to say. You don’t even notice how you’re leaning closer to him, hanging on to every word as if it’s the very thing that’s breathing air into your lungs. 

Hangman stares back at you, his eyes glistening in such a way as they reflect the lights that no longer seem so unbearable, “There’s so much that I want to say to you, but that- that fear held me back for so long that I...” He shakes his head, dropping his gaze to your hands. 

You immediately miss the sea of blues, your heart pulling as you watch him struggle to speak, “Tell me.” You lift his chin up, your faces mere inches apart, “Talk to me, Jake.” 

“I’d never forgive myself if I never got the chance to tell you...” He whispers, his breath ghosting across your lips. Gently moving your hand to the back of his neck, your fingers tangle in the ends of his hair, “Tell me now.” 

He looks back at you, his eyes telling you everything you need to know even before the words pass through his lips, “I love you.” He’s barely finished speaking before you’re closing the distance between the two of you, your lips slotting against his. 

You feel his arms wrap around your back as he pulls you to him, the small amount of space in between the two of you closed off in one movement. One hand tangles in his hair while the other cups the side of his face, the fire inside you surging throughout your entire being as you deepen the kiss. 

Your hands trail down his back, gripping onto his shirt just as the two of you break apart, gasping for air. You breathe him in, every part of him as you stare into his eyes, the cool blues doing little to calm the heat igniting within you. 

He reaches up and cups the sides of your face, leaning forward until his forehead is resting against your own, “I love you. God, I love you.” He says, placing a gentle kiss against your lips once more. 

You smile into it, “And I love you.” You lean back so you can see his face. Your heart flutters as his expression practically lights up, everything that he is positively beaming at you, “I love you... even when you annoy me.” 

He laughs and the sound is the sweetest melody to your ears. Wrapping your arms around him, you bury your face in the crook of his neck as he holds you, “What I would give to be able to freeze this moment and be able to live in it forever.” He says softly, his voice muffled slightly by your shoulder. 

Your face is beginning to hurt from how hard you’re smiling, but you can’t find it in you to care when you lean back and stare into those beautiful eyes that you promise to commit to memory, “Why stay here when we have the rest of our lives?” You ask him. 

There’s no greater joy than watching his eyes widen and his smile grow, “You mean that?” He asks, holding you tighter. Your head falls back as you laugh, “No, I was just saying it to sound cute.” 

“Oh, you-” Hangman cuts himself off as he kisses you, his lips fitting against yours in such a perfect way that you can’t believe you waited this long. He leans against you and you feel yourself get pushed gently into the pillows, “I will never stop loving you.” He says into the kiss. 

You push him back with a hand against his chest, “Is that a promise, Seresin?” 

He looks down at you with a smile, nothing but love swimming in his eyes, “With everything that I am, darlin'. I love you.”

Your hand turns and you're pulling him to you by the collar of his shirt. You pause just before your lips touch, “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Then you kiss him, all the love you have for this man and his absolute ridiculousness going into it. 

The idea of love used to scare you. But knowing what you feel for Jake, it doesn’t seem so scary anymore. 

☆☆☆

A/n: Hangman is an absolute sweetheart when it comes to the person he loves. I swear by that, and I love him for it. Hope you liked it :)

Tags: @rosiahills22 @obiwankenobis-lap @haljordangreenjedi @ollyoxenfrees @dempy @alluringshawn

#milano writes a story #jake seresin fic #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #fanboy #payback #tgm #top gun fic #reader insert #jake seresin x reader #i love this man

[osaka-lilac]

Asking you to kindly elaborate on the strollonso football au:

hello raapija my beloved, i would love to elaborate <3

for those out of the loop, refer to my tags on this post!

warning: i am an american with a incredibly basic understanding of footy ("soccer"). there is a reason the actual talk of any gameplay is basic and limited

fernando is this new guy to Lawrence Stroll's footy team right. (because in every universe, lawrence has to own a Team.) i can imagine he's some draft pick from spain for a new striker or something like that. possibly some trade, maybe a mid-season exchange (they do that in american football but idk if they do that in footy) those who know specifics of positions in footy please let me know your thoughts on what position fernando would play

lance: couldn't give two shits about footy. he's seen maybe once in a blue moon on the sidelines tagging along, and he's known for being visibly bored or on his phone during matches. (he has the Pout Blast 3000 for this.)

the reputation he receives from fans is much like the perceived impressions he gets irl: some spoiled kid who shouldn't be there. he's more into hockey than any match his dad's team could ever play.

now when fernando shows up its like a fucking slap to the face. like. "holy fuck i didn't think they could be this hot" type beat.

for the first time, lance shows up to a team practice with his father, not just a match. but he's really not there for the team: he is enamored by fernando. his speed. he's a sly yet devilishly handsome fucker with this wicked grin when he knows he's tricked his opponent yet again, and lance is obsessed.

not only does he start going to way more matches. he also starts showing visible interest and gets invested. and he gets loud. the mumbles online about his "spoiled reputation" turn to joy. he becomes a meme of the team for a few weeks after a clip of him getting frustrated after a poorly-called card is given to fernando ends up going viral.

and maybe this entire time, fernando has been watching this young boy from afar. he totally believes he can't be with his literal manager's young son and jeopardize his spot on the team and a shot at glory. and maybe he believes that lance initially isn't interested. but maybe when he sees lance become more invested in the team, he figures he might have a chance. he just can't figure out why lance has become so invested in what was, quite frankly, a very short amount of time.

so maybe fernando's on the side for a while in a practice. lance is there, but he seems distant. not in the game. not really watching the drills by the other players with much enthusiasm. and fernando's a smart man. and he puts some pieces together in his brain. and makes a move.

he comes up to lance and asks to talk with him once practice is done. when all the other players are gone. in the locker room. of course lance agrees

flash forward a bit. n lance is like. hanging out by the exit outside of the locker room. he counts all the players. and when there's only one left. he goes inside. finds fernando sitting on one of the benches, still in his kit.

they get to talking. what lance does outside of being at games, (i can imagine him being a student but i don't have the will to kin assign him a major right now), what his favorite hockey team is (habs. of course) and of course, the loaded question:

"lancito, what's gotten you so interested in the team now?"

of course, lance doesn't really respond to this, kinda dances around the question. he gets flustered. he doesn't want to be found out. what if he sees right through him, what if he already knows, what if he tells his dad??

fernando leans in slightly, and slides his hand over lance's hip. he cups his chin softly, and slowly turns lance's head to look at fernando straight on.

"be honest, niñito."

and when has lance ever been anything but honest.

#and then they FUCK NASTY ABOUT IT IN THE LOCKER ROOM #strollonso #thank you so so much raapija i have been vibrating to write something lately #asks #answered #my fics #(in a way. just tagging it that so i dont lose it in the swarm of posts)

[cryptotheism]

I just found the Gorilla Radio Show podcast and saw you were on a recent episode so I listened to it. First of all, a blast! Second of all, I also work as a researcher at a different primate research place (someone in my lab actually presented a paper at journal club a while ago that I’m pretty sure is from the lab Austin works at lol primate research is a relatively small field) and wanted to add some stuff you might find interesting:

-The brain from the sacrificed animal was most likely moved to a jar of ethanol after the formaldehyde because tissue is useless if it stays in that too long but can last practically forever once it’s in ethanol. That tissue can then be cut into really thin slices and then looked at under a microscope to study the micro anatomy 

-Tissue in ethanol really does just stay in the fridge next to other lab supplies lol my lab has a fridge with a fuckton of tissue in jars on one shelf and then like centrifuges and boxes of other samples and reagents on the other shelves, pretty normal because it’s relatively safe at that point (will get to that)

-The body doesn’t immediately get incinerated, when they were removing the brain they also almost certainly kept other stuff (ex. liver, lung, blood, etc.) because monkeys are resource-intensive so people try to use as much of them as possible so they don’t go to waste and there’s a lot of data you can always get and use from every animal

-The reason incineration is done is that herpes B is a really really REALLY big threat when working with macaques and standard protocol is you treat every animal as if they were infected for risk mitigation, so when a monkey dies it’s body has to be burned (though a Viking funeral would be dope) but formaldehyde will kill everything so once it’s treated with that it’s a lot safer in terms of biohazards

Anyways, fuck Elon

Hey I'm glad! Being on the show was a lot of fun!

That's genuinely really cool to hear. It's good to know that even when animals die in a laboratory setting that literally every part of them is useful in some way to researchers.

We gotta find some way to give research animals a sanitary yet ritually honorable death. Maybe we could use the ash from their bones to make crucible steel like the Vikings did. We can make Holy Lab Ape Swords to honor our dead primate friends.

Also fuck elon

#tw animal death