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 Posting a reply to post #45485

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45485 No.45485
I'm actually surprised there's no thread in /coq/ for Toy Story yet.

Let's go.

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fuck yes! I just went to the /r/ thread and this pops up.

If there's some content out there, I'd love to see it.

All I have is on the childhood thread. :(

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Fuck my life


Honestly, TS3 made me wonder-- the toys are alive. They're in his room all the time. Hanging around on the furniture, even, if he forgets to put them away.


There's like a thread everyday on /co/ about how they've seen him fap

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Seriously, this thread needs content. So contributing my findings.


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Alright, final picture of what I have that isn't a duplicate. Enjoy some Garbage man!Sid/Older!Andy.

Hopefully people contribute more soon, and I hope to maybe see some writefag contributions too.

You know what? Let's take it up a notch. I challenge coq to find Mr. Potato Head/Hamm, OR Rex/Slinky Dog.

And when you do, I'll have lost all faith in humanity.

Perfect timing to stop working, devinatart. >:(

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UGH COLLEGE ANDY. I was hoping we'd see Sid again..

Sid is the garbage man.

There's more in the ruining your childhood thread.


That said. Any Buzz/Lots-O' powerplay!sex yet?

hellll yesssss

Hate to sound like a whiner, but is there any fic yet? Specifically Buzz/Woody.

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Credit to 4chan's /b/:
I run a hand back through my brown hair, leaning back on the couch in the apartment I share with Sid, the boy who lived next door to me when we were kids. I don't exactly know what we are; best friends isn't really accurate because I don't think Sid has friends, and although 'fuck buddies' seems a lot more fitting, I doubt that he'd appreciate me using the term to describe our relationship.

So I guess we're roommates, which makes us sound detached from each other, despite the fact that we're together more than enough. But whatever. It's around midnight at the moment, and the only reason I'm still awake is because I'm waiting for him to get home from his late night drinking excursions. I shouldn't wait up for him but it's a bad habit by now. I can't sleep until I know that he's safely inside.

The door of our flat bangs open and Sid stumbles in, looking groggy and drunk, and I sigh, setting down my magazine, licking my lips before walking over to him, helping him stay on his feet. "Come on, dude, you've had way too much to drink."

He grins, turning his face towards mine and biting at my chin like it's supposed to be sexy, his teeth running over my skin. I pull back a little bit, flinching, and he grabs my face, pulling me into a lips-bruisingly hard kiss and taking a steady step forward, forcing me back. I groan, not really wanting to have sex right now, but if he's going to force the issue I guess I'll comply.

Sid presses me up against the back of the couch, still kissing me feverishly, and as his hand slips up my shirt I gasp, arching against him a little. He breaks the kiss, murmuring against my lips as he nuzzles against me a bit. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Sid slurs, his other hand sliding down my pants.

I nod a little breathlessly, looking at him, and he grabs my hair, shoving me to my knees and tilting my head back a bit as he undoes his own pants, whipping out his dick and stroking it to full hardness. I lick my lips before sliding my hand down over it, licking the tip of his cock and then taking the head in my mouth, sucking a bit before starting to push down further, gripping his thighs after a few moments and trying to get the rest down my throat.

Sid helps me out by slamming into my mouth as hard as he can, leaving me reeling, and then pulling out almost all the way, driving his cock back into my mouth and keeping me pinned to the back of our beat up sofa. He twists his fingers in my hair painfully, tilting my head back, and honestly I wouldn't expect anything else from him.

I gag around his dick, pushing at his legs, but the fucking sadist just holds me down, fucking my face roughly. I manage to pull back for a split second, choking a bit more, and he lets me off, spit dribbling down my chin as I try to catch my breath.

I get one or two decent pulls of air and then Sid is back in my mouth, fucking me as hard as he can and using the couch to hold himself up. Finally, after brutally raping my mouth for about five minutes, he cums, hot seed dripping down my throat as I pull back, choking a bit and squinting my eyes shut for a moment before managing to get to my feet, coughing into my hand.

Sid smacks me on the arm, staggering towards his bedroom, and I groan, leaning against the couch and feeling sick to my stomach.

I fucking hate it when Sid gets drunk.


Just got back from seeing this. Told my friend this would happen.
This is OK with me.

I'd kinda like to see realistic fanart of the Woody character, you know? Non-toy/puppety, just... basically a cowboy. Like the non-cartoony-style fanart people do for the fiction of our world. (Poorly enunciated, too late at night.)

Throw in Buzz if you like, I guess.

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what? :D

I've been looking for this! Who drew this?


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I guess this will count...

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All courtesy from pixiv.

/r/ing Mrs. Nesbit. Do it.

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More from this artist. God they draw an adorable Woody.

Adrien Brody as Woody? Hell yes.

Hah! Hah!

Truly, I have experienced the final death throes of my childhood! I take my hat off to you, /coq/!


wow- what the fuck is that from

hahahaha wow that art is so badly drawn it hurts



A fanvid relevant to our interests:


and these! (people should tell this person to finish this!)

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This is all I could find!

Also we need a .gif of the part were Spanish Buzz kisses Woody, srsly.



want more but there is nothing. where are all the drawfags when you need them

Spanish buzz kisses Woody? What?! Holy shit

Well, just on the cheeks. European-style.


what the fuck- go watch the movie. It's good!

> Woody doesn't know much Spanish, but he understood "Amigo", quickly and nervously he exclaims "Amigos! We are all amigos!". Satisfied with the answer he was given, Buzz puts down his laser, walks over to Woody and gives him a friendly kiss on each cheek. Woody is left in shock, but he's just relieved that Buzz is ok and on their side again. He tells everyone that they are going to have to fix him later. Woody then grabs Buzz's hand and drags him out the daycare.

and that is exactly what happens.

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This part of the movie.... I am pretty sure they raped Buzz.

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I was too tired to crop.

ILU, guy. I'd love to go see this, but I have no time. I downloaded a shitty cam rip, but I couldn't get through two minutes. It was just horrible.

>>45698 This is the best


This interests me so very much.

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In a /y/ thread, the artfag says there will be more.

>Rex's face
I lol'd

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From the awesome draawfag on 4chan

I fucking love you.

any Woody/Buzz fics out there yet? Rec me!

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from same drawfag

Who are they supposed to be?

This is supposed to be a Toy Story thread

it is sid and andy. Who I hope, you at least can figure out who they are.
jesus kids these days can't read a thread with 70 posts in it.


GUH! yuckie cooties! Do not want. Sage.


GOOD SIR OR MADAME, you are wonderful!

shut up fags. Jessie is cute. >>45822

The reason I didn't recognise who they were is because the art is SHIT.

I wish /coq/ could keep shitty art to a minimum.


I wish /coq/ could keep shitty haters to a minimum.


oh noes my feelings are so hurt V_V i'll stop drawfagging just for you

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I wonder if there's a version of this around with Woody...

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Just go for it, man. I'm surprised no one recognized my style, yet.

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Tentacles aww yea

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Obviously from the /y/ thread

I'm taking whatever is from the thread and putting it here too, to share the loooveee

theres a little bit of fic over at the disney kink meme

>>45781 There's more and more thanks to disney_kink on LJ. Here's on by one_windiga:

The internet was a beautiful and terrifying place.

Woody remembered the first time that Andy had brought up the subject of a computer with his mother. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was far too young to need something like that around the house, and why couldn’t he just use the school’s word processor?

Several years later, in the age of wifi and phones that could tell you whether your shoes matched your purse, and the sleek chrome laptop that sat on Andy’s desk still didn’t quite feel like it belonged. It helped that it had post-its on it in Andy’s reliable old scrawl and a “you’re the top banana” sticker from ninth grade with a grinning monkey that he couldn’t quite scrape off, no matter how hard he tried.

The first few weeks after it had graced the room, the tiny village of toys that inhabited the shelves avoided it like it was a bomb, ready to explode at a moment’s notice and cover them all in wires and keys. But that sort of paranoia couldn’t last long when Andy was on it every day, typing up book reports and shooting at aliens with lasers that made little ‘pew pew’ noises. Buzz couldn’t help but like that one.

And so they had watched. They watched, and they learned. The basic computer functions weren’t so hard to grasp. If they teamed up on the thing, it wasn’t so hard. One manned the mousepad square, one took the left half of the keyboard, and one took the right. Slinky could handle the entire thing on his own, stretching out across the entire laptop. For the rest of them, it was like a giant game of twister, plucking one letter here with a hand and another there with one leg twisted around the other. But what mattered was that it worked. They tried minesweeper first. It turned out to be Rex’s favorite game, but only because he thought it was like golf – trying to blow himself up in as few moves as possible. Nobody had the heart to tell him otherwise. They quickly moved on through word processing programs, Andy’s space invader game, and a strange little painting program that Etch-a-Sketch refused to acknowledge.

But after they had been through the entire computer, there was only one other place to go. The internet.

The rest of the toys weren’t very interested in this internet thing. They didn’t really see the point of it all, not when there was minesweeper to be had. On this, at least, Woody and Buzz were on their own. When they finally pulled up a browser window and stared at the sleek, rainbow letters of the ‘google’ homepage, they were at a loss. Andy always seemed to know what he was doing with this. But where did they even begin?

“Uhhh… Buzz?” Woody cast him a look, eyebrows quirked.


“Do we have a plan?”


“Oh. Right. So long as we’re clear on that.” He cleared his throat and looked back to the screen.

“I believe this particular ... thing… is used as some sort of search parameter.”

“What are we searching for?”

There was a moment of silence as the cowboy and spaceman looked at each other, then turned their head back to the screen and looked some more. The long typing bar was empty. The cursor line at the end blinked at them with perfect rhythm, mocking their ineptitude. After a long minute ticked away in the clock at the corner of the screen, Buzz clambered to his feet and rubbed his hands together. A stretch put him with one foot on the ‘w’ key, which pressed down obligingly.


“…Buzz, what are you-“

“Hang on a sec,” he replied, cutting him off as he crouched down in place. A second later he was jumping, casting both arms out beside him as they’d seen the Olympic longjumpers do on television. He landed on the ‘o’ key, plastic feet scrabbling to stop before he hit any other keys that would have to be deleted. After a glance to the screen proved he’d made a clean stop, he hopped down on it once more.

“W – o – o - … hey!” Woody laughed and stood.

“Give me a hand here,” was his only response. Chuckling, Woody obeyed, and between the two of them, ‘woody the cowboy’ slowly appeared on the screen. They both admired their work for a moment before Buzz glanced his way. “Do you want the honors?”

That earned him another laugh. “This feels all kinds of egotistical.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“Fair enough.” He paused, then gave the enter key a good kick with his spurs. They watched as the internet hummed to life. There was that funny little swirly thing the mouse did while the computer thought it over. A moment later, a long list of blue links popped up. Those, at least, they understood. They’d seen Andy click on those for hours, following links from here to there and everywhere.

“’A History of Woody’s Gang,’” Woody read aloud. “No, that sounds boring. I know that all already.”

“What’s an ‘ebay?’” Buzz asked, hand hovering curiously above the mousepad.

“I haven’t the slightest. But we can find out.” He followed that up with a decisive click. “That’s – oh. OH! Heyyy!” He turned to cast a wide grin at the spaceman. “You can buy all my stuff here! Look, there’s replacement hats, lunch boxes, burning banks… it’s like someone put all of Al’s Toy Barn stuff up online.”

Buzz made a curious ‘huh’ sound and smacked the button on the side of his helmet. It swished down to allow him a better look.

“There’s my lasso, and - … oh.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “there’s… me.” He sat back, unsure of how to take that. It was perfectly natural for toys to meet other versions of themselves. Buzz had lived to tell the tale, after all. But he’d never actually seen one. It wasn’t surprising, given how old his show was. It wasn’t exactly a popular new hit, brand new to light up the shelves like Christmas in July. He’d half expected to grow old never meeting another Woody at all. But now here it was. For sale.

This was even worse than the yardsale, and it wasn’t even him.

It was Buzz that spoke up first, with the extra burr in his voice that meant he had decided to be even more Confident than usual. “But hey, look how many bids you’ve got.”

Woody followed his eyes to the little tracking numbers that followed the image. “Ei-wh- eighty-two?” he managed.

“See? You’re popular! Look at that She-Ra, she’s barely in the double digits!” He clapped Woody on the back, and Woody allowed his soft stitching to be shoved slightly with the force of the smack.




“Is it so hard to believe that people could like you?”

“It’s just – he’s for sale!”

“Woody.” His shellacked blue eyes were unusually serious as he met Woody’s gaze.


He reached out and grabbed a handful of his absurdly yellow collar, tugging him over. “Shut up.” And with that, he kissed him. The soft noise of surprise that bled out from between their lips was warm enough that Buzz took it as approval, deepening the kiss until their teeth clicked together and Woody’s hands searched for purchase on the slick shoulders of Buzz’s spacesuit. By the time they drew back, breathless and tingling, Woody’s cheeks were already turning faintly pink.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment to regain his breath, “Okay. Shutting up.”

Many Trails But No Shortcuts by Mousapelli (

It was nice, Woody thought to himself, to get away once in a while. Just him and the guys, no responsibilities, no toys running up to him wanting to know where the batteries were, and if Woody could untangle their cords, and where their other hot pink stiletto heel was.

No womenfolk of any kind, in fact, not for miles. No Jesse, No Bo Peep, not even a single sheep.

Buzz had asked him about the sheep once, and Woody had just shrugged and said that there were some toys as came with karate chop action, and others as came with other types. Buzz said his cowboy accent got thicker when Woody was talking about strange Earth customs.

Woody was in a tangle with Buzz in front of the campfire where Andy had thrown them down while he roasted marshmallows with his father, arm over Buzz’s chest and boot jammed under Buzz’s far knee.

At first they stayed that way because Andy was sitting right there and they were professional toys, even though Woody thought he’d seen the corner of Buzz’s eye twitch when Woody’s other hand got caught under the small of Buzz’s back.

But even now that Andy was out cold, head back against the log at a bizarre angle and snoring like a chainsaw, they hadn’t quite moved yet. Woody just stayed where he was, staring up at the stars, so different than the ones they counted out of Andy’s window on late summer nights. There seemed to be more and more of them as the fire died down, some of them blinking, others only visible out of the corners of Woody’s eyes. So many of them, more than there were marbles under Andy’s bed.

It made Woody feel tiny, but in a good way. In a safe way. He wondered if real cowboys felt that way when they looked up, stretched in front of a campfire. He bet that being a real cowboy was fine, spending your nights under the stars and your days on a trusty steed with a pistol that wasn’t made of felt, and spurs that really jangled when you strode into the saloon that wasn’t made of cardboard and tipped your hat to women whose hair didn’t grow when you twisted their right arm.

Probably real cowboys wouldn’t have their limbs all tangled up with a spaceman, though.

“Woody.” Buzz’s voice was close to Woody’s ear, startling him out of his thoughts and making him blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

“There’s a snake in my boot!”

“That’s great,” Buzz said dryly.

He didn’t say anything else for a few moments, and Woody turned his head enough to see that, through his plastic helmet, Buzz was looking at the stars too.

“You think…” Buzz’s chest didn’t move under Woody’s palm and his breath didn’t fog his helmet, but Woody knew a sigh when he felt one. “You think there really is a homeworld out there somewhere?”

“Well, Buzz,” Woody said, looking back up, “there’s a lot of things up there. So I suppose there might be a planet, somewhere, that has real spacemen.”

“Intergalactic space travelers,” Buzz corrected him, but his voice was distant. “If there is, then there must be a real Buzz Lightyear, somewhere.”

Woody didn’t say anything right away; instead he turned back to watch Buzz’s face through his helmet. The helmet had its share of nicks and scratches, including a doozy from when Andy had sent him down the banister last month. But the helmet meant that the paint on his head was just about mint, the dying fire tinting the glossy blue of his eyes orange and distant.

Just like he thought being a cowboy would be fine, Woody realized suddenly that Buzz probably thought the same about being a spaceman, only Andy wasn’t likely to take a vacation to the moon any time soon.

Even though there was nothing inside Woody’s chest but Polyfil, that made it hurt just a little.

Woody shifted his hand the quarter-inch to press Buzz’s helmet release, and when it slid back with a smooth whoosh (Andy’s mother really was a master to have gotten rid of all the gum residue), and Buzz turned to meet Woody’s eyes with a faint confused crease between his permanently cocked eyebrows, Woody smiled.

“I bet he’s a real jerk,” he said, “since you were when you thought you were him,” and then Woody leaned forward just enough to press their lips together.

Buzz’s lips were cool, since his helmet had absorbed the heat from the fire, and sort of stiff, but that was to be expected out of an action figure, even one whose head was painted lavender. Maybe they looked just as silly as the Barbies that Molly was just getting old enough to make kiss, but it made the ache in Woody’s chest fade, and was very much worth the way Buzz stared at Woody, blinking, when he pulled back.

“Buzz?” Woody asked.

“I’m a member of the universe protection unit!” Buzz blurted, then looked away and cleared his throat. “I mean…I bet you were a jerk before you realized you weren’t a real cowboy.”

Woody let his head click back against the ground. If his hair weren’t made of plastic, the rock under it would probably be uncomfortable. “Who says I ever realized that?”

“Hmph.” Woody’s eyes were on the stars, and he heard the whoosh of Buzz’s helmet flipping back into place. “I bet real cowboys don’t go around kissing their best friends.”

Chuckling, Woody thought about telling Buzz that last weekend Andy had left him on the couch overnight and Andy’s mother had watched a movie where cowboys had done exactly that, but then decided that maybe that would be a little much for any action figure, even one whose head was painted lavender.

Yes, sir, Woody thought, watching stars wink out of the corners of his eyes, being a real cowboy must sure be fine. Especially a cowboy with a best friend.

For Infinity by Leyenn (
Pairing: Buzz/Woody

There's a little park in the green belt, with a little grove of trees and a few old trash cans, and an abandoned swing set being slowly eaten, summer by fall by summer, by the creeping branches. It's a half a mile from Pizza Planet (except now it's a multiplex with a double Starbucks on the side), a twenty-minute drive and seven years from Andy's heart.

Behind the park is a storage depo for Al's Toy Barn, old enough to still have the name peeling over the door. Al's has been just another Toys'R'Us since September - just another part of everything that's over and gone forever.

It's mainly bikes and PlayStations these days, just the occasional box of the latest round of movie tie-in merchandising that Woody gives monthly warnings about at the round-up. He'll never be as good as Mister Spell, but he tries. Discovering that vampire action figures may as well be vampires with those teeth should only be done once - he still has the scars, right where his neck seams are wearing through.

Everyone seems to be wearing a bit thin, these days.

He misses Bo. Silly, since she wouldn't have stayed here anyway, and how could he begrudge her being passed on? A couple of years in the attic would have been nothing to him if he could have stayed in that house, in that family...

But Andy's gone. Gone to the big wide world of girlfriends and a Saturday job at Blockbusters and studying for college, and no time for playing with toys he's had since forever. No time even for toys like Buzz, or even the flashy rocket ship that arrived for his sixteenth birthday (and doesn't really match, no matter what Buzz says). Today Andy likes shiny round things with video games on them, and girls who move in next door named Beckie (she doesn't like cowboys: she's on the side of the Indians). He used to make the journey once a month, a long creep through the bushes in the dead of night and a peek through the blinds just to be sure, to be sure that it was all still there, even if he couldn't be a part of it.

Last week the window was open a little way and he couldn't help but sneak inside, even though Buzz actually yelled at him from the road not to. But then the desk wasn't there any more and he hit the floor awkwardly and there was junk on the floor he didn't recognise.

He doesn't need to look at it again to know the scratch is still there, dug into the paint and wood, straight through Andy's name. It's silly how he didn't notice it for days - until Potatohead hauled him off Bullseye's back and pointed it out, in fact - because of the other thing.

He knows now why Buzz didn't want him looking. And it wasn't the needing to let go, the way Potatohead insists he should; it wasn't even that it was a waste of time, like Jesse kept telling him.

Buzz didn't want him looking because Buzz knew that one day, one day, he'd peek through those blinds and find Beckie in his spot.

For three days now it's been raining. It rained on the way back to the warehouse, and by those trash cans outside, '$1 each' in Andy's scrawl was running streaks down soggy cardboard in the wet. It rained so much that his boots were all caked in mud and cola-flavored sludge from under the office window; so much that Buzz got water in his battery compartment and spent two days on emergency trips to the radiator to dry himself.

This afternoon Woody spotted him scraping at a spot of rust and pretending not to be afraid someone would notice.

Andy's old cowboy hat hangs above his head now, even still; he's tried ripping it down, but now there's just a nail poking through the felt and the rim is lingering against the floor. Now he has to stoop to get underneath and his boots stick out, although that hardly matters - he doesn't think he can bring himself to sleep under it any more. Maybe he'll let the Aliens have it instead, or the three monkeys they have left since the raccoon attack (he didn't think plastic monkeys were edible, but perhaps it depends).

Buzz is looking at him, thinking he won't notice it. He's been looking since Woody crawled out of Andy's window for the last time, and he's maddening in his concern. Woody can't ignore it, so it comes as some surprise to find him standing here, looming over this uncomfortable stack of video cases with his hands on his hips and his 'wrist communication device' flipped open, looking every inch the toy he isn't, anymore.


"Just - don't say it, Buzz." He ducks his head and scuffs his foot, seeking out a drip from the ceiling that's pooling water by his feet and cupping his hand under it. Water sinking into his arm is an odd, cold feeling until Buzz shoves him - hard - in the shoulder.

"I'll say what I like, cowboy."

"Your arm's open," he says, because he can't be bothered to explore his feelings and he knows Buzz won't go away.

"It doesn't stay shut," Buzz tells him. As if it wasn't anything important or the sign of a crippling disease, but it really is. Crippling to be stuck out here, lost toys, unloved, unneeded, unwanted. Suffering the rain, the wilderness, the days when someone else goes missing and no one will ever know where. Forgotten.

He should worry himself about this new little problem, jump up and panic and poke at it frantically and make plans for a sellotape mission when he can't get it to close: but that's the Woody who always rescued Bo from the evil Potatohead Gang, who slept on Andy's bed at night, and he can't remember how to be that Woody. Instead he shifts over on the stack of videos, hand-stitched denim smearing grime over An American Werewolf In Paris. Buzz sits down as easily as his action figure joints will allow, and Woody's imagination runs riot over scenarios of mouldy plastic and being slowly paralysed by the cold and the damp. That afternoon sneaking from the yard sale under an upturned box seems like years ago...

...and then he realises, it was, and they really might rot away forgotten here forever.

"I should tell you," Buzz says slowly as if his batteries are dying. "I have something that should belong to you."

"What's mine is everybody else's," he says quietly, trying to be funny and failing miserably. "The monkeys can have the hat, if you'll tell them. I think I'll sleep here tonight."

"On a pile of video tapes."

He swipes a hand through the dust. "Something wrong with my pile of video tapes?"

"Of course, I have a spare bunk in the ship," Buzz says as if his question were something else completely.


And then - then - Buzz turns sideways and kisses him.

On the cheek. But. It's a kiss, in the same way that the rain is wet, because the meaning is all there.

And it goes on for, well... what might be considered a long time.

"That was yours. From Bo. I've... had it a while now." Buzz doesn't sound convincing or convinced, but he lets it lie.

"A spare bunk, you said?"

His owner's name is scratched through, rain is soaking into his stuffing, and his hand-stitched pants are covered in grime, but for the moment that Buzz pushes an arm under his and tugs him up, he remembers what it was like to be Woody and Buzz - the Unstoppable Duo, Andy hooking their arms together and hugging them tightly side-by-side at night.

Of course, Andy's lying side-by-side with Beckie now, or some other girl (not boy, because Woody knew him at least that well). Woody needs to forget, or at the very least find out if a toy ever can.

He thinks about inside the rocket ship, the smooth plastic of lips warming his cheek, and wonders if Buzz just hugging him alone might be enough.


Shiiiiit, I've got tears in my eyes. I need fluff, pronto. *sniff*



One day while Andy was masturbating, Woody got wood. He could no longer help himself! He watched as Andy stroked his juicy kawaii cock. He approached Andy which startled him and made him pee everywhere on the floor and all over Woody too. Being drenched in his urine made him harder than ever!

Woody : ” Andy Senpai! I’m alive and I want to be INSIDE OF YOU. “

Andy: ” Oh Woody Chan! I always knew you were alive! I want to stuff you up in my kawaii ass!”

Woody grabbed a bunch of flavored lube and rubbed it all over his head.

Woody: ” Oh my! It’s cherry flavored lube! Cherry is my favorite!”

Woody then stuffed his head up into Andy’s tight ass! The other toys around the room watched intently as Woody shoved his head back and forth into Andy’s nice ass, continuously making a squishy wet noise. The other toys also became aroused and they all gathered around Woody and Andy and started to urinate all over them, and then they started to masturbate.
Andy: ” Oh my goodness, Woody Chan! You are churning my insides up so well! Your nose is stimulating my prostate! OH YES!

All of the other toys became so aroused by this, that they could not help themselves anymore! They pushed Woody completely inside , and they all went inside. All of them wanted to be inside Andy’s nice round ass.

Andy: ” No wait! guys! My ass cannot hold this much! im getting so full!”

All the toys went inside of poor squirming Andy and pretty much, he was beyond full, and died from having his insides completely damaged. The mother came inside and found Andy, dead with a huge ass hemorrhage on his anus, with a HUGE belly full of toys.

Woody : "Reach for the sky!"
Sid : "holy fuck! It's you again! You guys are alive, and I wasn't being crazy for the last ten years! Duuuuude, please don't hurt me!"
Woody : "Let go of my friends in that trash bag you got there, or else I will call my rebel friends to ass rape you in your sleep!"

The trash bag in Sid's hand tore open from Rex's tail, and all of the toys pinned Sid down, and ripped his shirt off, revealing his crazy pecs and six pac.

Sid: "ahhh, wtf are you guys doing!"
Slinky : "We're gonna fucking teach you a lesson for what you were about to do!"
Sid : "nah! wait! please man, i was gonna let you guys go-*mpphh*"

Hamm stuffed his large cock in Sid's adorable mouth as he gagged and tried to speak to tell them to stop. Woody pulled his pants and boxers down to reveal his nice plump cock as he started to stroke it.

Sid : "noooooo!" -muffled by Hamm's juicy dick

Rex started to fisting his small arms into squirming Sid's urethra, stimulating his cock even more as it twitched with slight orgasms. Slinky held Sid down by tying himself around Sid's arms and legs as he squirmed like a little school girl. Buzz started to fist Sid's nice ass as he stimulated his nice cock even more by from stimulating his prostate. Nice, warm, creamy Pre-cum was cumming out of Sid's throbbing dick as it got all over Rex who was quite embarrassed and aroused by it. Hamm got his enormous dick out of Sid's mouth and started to jizz all over his nice handsome face and all over his chin hair.

Hamm : "ohhhhh ahhhhh~"
Sid : "ahhh dude, that's grotty! ahhh shittttt!"

Sid started to cum all over his belly as his nipples and six pac started to become covered in his nice warm jizz . The toys had enough of him, and they quickly escaped to Andy's garage. Sid's co-worker who was driving the garbage truck grew impatient, and came out of the truck.

Co-worker : "Sid! what the fuck are you doi-"

The co worker was astonished of what he saw. he saw cute Sid lying innocently on the lawn covered in his nice creamy jizz, naked. the co worker became sexually aroused by this, and took out his 9 inch dick and started throat fucking poor Sid as we gagged for help.

/r/ an au where Buzz is an actual spaceman and Woody is an actual cowboy and there is gayness involved

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Reposted from what I made for /y/. My arts sucks, and I'll try to write something better later.

After Andy finally finished moving into his dorm room, he was rather curious about who his roommate was going to be.

"Hmm...I wonder what kind of roommate I'll have?" Andy wondered to himself.

Then he heard a knock on the door. Excited, Andy opened the door, anxious about who his roommate was going to be.

Too bad Andy sure regrets opening the door.

(Bah, I'll write more later.)

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Found this on /pco/


Woody looks like Logan.


I-- I want this tooooooooo. I suck at Westerns though, so I don't know if it would ever be done, if I did it...


Or the lovechild of Logan and Sniper. But it's still a damn awesome picture.

bad drawfag is a bad drawfag, but i'mma try anyway, because i was thinking about this too

Would you?

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How about they're in space!

I like you.


Looks like a troll is taking over the thread in /y/. Anyone got anything original?

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Hmmm? Where's Woody's other leg? ;)

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"I fuckin' hate this doll. But you like it, dontcha Andy?"

thanks, i'm going to work on some more tomorrow


Love this!

Well. The thread over at /y/ is dying because of that stupid fucking troll and all the summer/new/sagefags.

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Just because the /y/ thread is dying doesn't mean we can't try to keep this one alive. We just need more draw/writefags to contribute.

From the Disney_Kink meme over at LiveJournal. A little Woody/Spanish!Buzz for you all.

Spanish Mode
by Duckhippie


The quiet of the Caterpillar Room was disturbing to Woody. He watched through the window as the others sprinted through the playground, stopping only to hide behind sandboxes or jungle gyms before reaching the rendezvous point. His heart broke at the terrified looks on their faces. He should have never left. They were in this predicament because of him. But he was here to make it better now, because that was what he did.

A shuffling sound next to Woody alerted him that Buzz was gazing intensely at him. Well, not Buzz, exactly. A mishap had put him into his Spanish Mode, and now even the way he stood was different, with his one foot in front of the other, both pointed outwards, with impeccable posture. Woody rolled his eyes inwardly, but he couldn’t help but worry about his best friend. If they reset him again, would he be his Buzz Lightyear, with the same personality and memories as before?

Woody turned his attention back to his friends. They were nearly halfway across now – those trucks were making it nearly impossible to run for more than a couple seconds at a time. He watched as Jessie lead the group past the slide and through the grass, glancing from side to side to watch out for guards. He felt pride well up within him. She could hold her own, no problem. He liked that about her.

“¡Vaquero!” said Buzz suddenly, making him jump.

“Buzz, shut up!” Woody hissed. Sure, they had taken out the cymbal monkey that watched the daycare like a hawk, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t be listening in from the hallway.

Buzz - mercifully, Woody thought – seemed to understand. Instead of responding, he held out his hand. Confused, Woody studied it before taking it in his own, giving him a small, cautious handshake.

Then he was pulled inwards and twirled, until his back was facing Buzz’s front and both his hands were held tightly.

“Um,” said Woody intelligently.

In a series of complicated moves, the cowboy doll was twirled and dipped, making his head spin. There was finally a pause when Buzz had him pulled close, one plastic hand on the small of his back and the other gripping Woody’s right hand tightly.

“Usted es hermoso,” whispered Buzz passionately.

Woody didn’t understand a word of it - he vaguely recalled Andy taking Spanish in high school and the toys reading over his homework, completely confused – and yet he felt a heat on his face, as though he was blushing.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” he said quietly, looking away. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Jessie and the others at the rendezvous point, frantically giving the signal they had decided upon.

“Estoy en amor con usted.” was all Woody got in reply. He took note of how husky Buzz’s voice sounded before being kissed deeply, plastic lips closing tightly together, large hands caressing solid hair.

When they broke apart, Woody couldn’t help but let out a quiet, “oh my God.” He couldn’t be focusing on this right now, not when they were so close to escaping. He had to ignore the haze he suddenly found himself in, the heat between them, how he suddenly felt like he never wanted to be anywhere else. This was his friend. He couldn’t take advantage of him like this.

“We gotta keep moving.” he said finally. He pulled away and straightened his hat, crossing the room briskly and ignoring how cold he suddenly felt.

“¡Vaquero, espera!” Buzz called after him. Woody stopped in his tracks, shocked by the desperation in his friend's voice. When he turned, he saw the space ranger running up to him with a small flower held tightly in his hand.

It was from the craft bin, Woody noticed immediately. It was a rose made of pipe cleaners and felt, nothing special, but he smiled in spite of himself.

“Thank you,” he said before catching himself. “Err….gracias.”

Buzz immediately grinned back, obviously happy to hear his own language. They gazed at each other for a moment before Buzz flipped his helmet forwards and walked ahead, opening the playground door quietly. Woody followed him, tucking the flower under his hat and smiling to himself.

Maybe the Spanish Mode wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Anon would like to bring you a bit of bromance. Enjoy.


Spanish Mode is the best, and this whole fic made me d'aaaaw

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I think fluff fits better with the toys as opposed to porn. I just don't see them taken off clothes and being naked lol. don't know if that's just me.

it is just you.
You aren't jaded enough yet by 4chan yet. If you even go on 4chan that is.


its you. I, on the other hand, want the complete opposite of this.

moar please?


lol darn, alone on that notion

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No, I feel the same way.

I think this fandom needs it's own version of the Ooh Mr Darcy comic. Jump on it drawfags!

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Can't get into Toy Story slash

Can totally get into Ooh Mr Darcy parodies

Someone should do a Buzz one too.

This Anon will love you forever for doing this, seriously.
Rex, omg, brb roflcoptering.

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NEEDS MORE PORN!! But, the cut stuff's nice too...

Oh God the "VINYL!" got me

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ms paint . .. i cant do better, :S

Same here, so you're not alone.

The only way I see the porn if it was some AU version where the characters are actually Woody and Buzz instead of toys.


I'm still on the fence about regular Toy Story porn, but it'd be interesting to see an exploration of anatomically correct porn. That is, sex in toy world consists of awkward hip bumping in an imitation of what their owners have made them do dozens of times. Or, alternatively, what they've SEEN their owners do dozens of times.

The toys keep that up until they realize that there are other ways of achieving psuedo-stimulation that suit their unique nature far better.

This. This I would like to see.


thank god im not alone. I completely agree with this. The only way I could see porn with them is if they were humanized. But I do enjoy seeing cute toy fluff

this makes a ton of sense too

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just learned about plus4chan a couple days ago. you guys are nuts! anyway I don't think I could support any toystory pairing besides buzz/jessie but I'm strange like that I guess. lol

I've been doing a ton of random sketches in my sketchbook, thought I'd share at least one. Woody is hugging andys hand here, I drew it because woody seemed like he always wanted to reach out and talk to Andy in TS3~ lolol

agreed, we need more AU stuff up in here!


S-so cute! :D


I had no clue that was by Zer. It made me lol though.

I like Zer's stuff, I posted it because it was cute :D

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>>46571 That is the cutest thing I have ever seen.

Speaking of cute, confusedkayt wrote "The New Normal" over on disney_kink:

Part 1: Mr. Pricklepants

“I miss Sarge!” Rex wails, peering out the window at the line of men toting boxes. “It might be a birthday! LOOK AT THE SIZE…”

“Never fear, my good, er, man.” Mr. Pricklepants charitably pretends not to notice that Rex flinches from his comforting pat. He is, after all, bristling with quills and Rex’s skin is very sensitive. “The lady of the house has talked of nothing but her new kitchen for months.”

Rex’s sigh of relief is enough to tip his right over onto his substantial tail, and Mr. Pricklepants clears his throat to allow the poor fellow a moment to recover himself. It is in vain, for Bonnie has chosen that moment to burst through the door with a large box. Bless him, the man is a professional despite his anxieties and stiffens immediately.

“Would you like a house, Dolly? Or maybe…” Her dear laugh rings out across the room and she seizes Woody from his perch atop the hamper. “Or a general store!” His Bonnie is a tidy lady, and so it is the work of a moment for her to find and extract her store of construction papers and brand new markers. “You can be the husband, Mr. Pricklepants. Don’t worry. It’s not just a store,” she whispers, a born conspirator. “You have to guard, because there’s an enchantment and… and if you don’t watch out then the wizard will turn everyone into silver spoons! But don’t worry, Dolly can change them back!”

Part 2: Bonnie The store is just the beginning. Jessie and Bullseye have their very own guard station/ tea shop, which says “microwave” and everything, with Trixie and Rex to help them keep an eye out.

The peas and potatoes have a garden where the secret ingredients that ward off sorcerers grow, but only because Buttercup sprinkles it with magic potion every time he visits. It’s a good thing, too, because Chuckles, Slinky, the despicable Dr. Porkchop, and a whole army of aliens live in a fortress nearby, with so many booby traps that not even Woody can break through to stop them. Buzz has tried, but there’s a secret magic radar force field that scrambles his lasers every time he tries to fly over. It’s nothing but trouble, but they’re too scared to do any evil stuff because every time they try they see the castle.

It’s got turrets with real glitter and proud cone-shaped watchtowers painstakingly done up in green and yellow, because everybody has to know that Woody and Buzz live there, and who would dare cause any trouble when they are on watch? They can’t ever, ever be split up or else. Andy didn’t tell her that, exactly, but he told her without saying, and anybody can see it, anyway. Who else can rescue Woody when he’s been flown up high by the bad guys, or help Buzz get his helmet to open when it’s time for snacks? Jessie’s hands are little, too, but she’s got to take care of Bullseye and besides, Buttercup likes her best, too! He’s really good at rounding up cuz he can fly and teleport and stuff, and Bulleye’s never jealous because Jessie loves him too and he’s really fast and can hide in little places where Buttercup can never fit.

Bonnie City is the best town ever, especially since Mom helped with the scissors and everything has signs and flowers.

Part 3: Woody

Woody likes the new normal, even if it had taken some getting used to. At first they had scrambled down the radiator every night to join the slumber party on the floor, but it was a very long climb and Buzz might be willing to risk his joints with a jump but Trixie had looked on Ebay and Woody knew just how hard it would be to replace his trusty boots. And then Bonnie took to waking at night, and creeping out of bed just to check. It wasn’t so easy to scramble up quietly in time, and there was, after all, plenty of room in the castle. Even if Buzz’s snores could wake the dead. Bonnie was trusting them to watch over her and she’d built them a castle herself, every last beautiful, hand-colored inch. He knew she had good taste when she’d drawn a lasso catching a spaceship before it could take off. Sure, Buzz maintained that the mural really showed his flightless friend’s attempts to hitch a ride, but any dummy could see what was really going on.

And maybe it wasn’t so bad to have a quiet place. Well, sort of quiet. “Woody!” Buzz always boomed, even if it was a muffled sort of boom at this time of night.

“Hiya, Buzz,” he managed. He didn’t feel much like company, but Buzz was hardly company anymore. More like – solid, comforting background. Even if it was easier for him – it was easier for everyone, it seemed – Buzz understood. No matter how long it had been, no matter how dark the toy chest, no matter how he’d ached all the way through to hear Andy moving, talking, laughing and playing without sparing one single thought for his old pals… Well. It was hard, that’s all, no matter how much he loved Bonnie. No matter, even, how much she loved them.

And boy, did she love them. He’d seen Buzz’s suspiciously shiny eyes when Bonnie had sat him down to apologize for never cuddling up to him at night. “You have edges,” she’d explained in a stage whisper. “Sharp, scratchy, protector-y edges,” she added, too fast, eyes all round with fear that she’d given offense. “So you have to protect instead of hug.” Her eyes got even bigger, arms went around Buzz so hard his wing popped open. “But only when I’m asleep! I promise!” It was easy to see that it was all Buzz could do to keep from blushing all day as she toted him around and introduced him to her friends and her mom and the neighbors’ cat.

Not that she didn’t love Woody. Far from it. Her old friends had been very gracious about his sudden star turn as the Bonnie Town Sheriff. Mr. Pricklepants put it best. “We are more of an ensemble cast,” he’d explained, not-frowning at Mr. Potatohead, who had the guts to ask which toy was the favorite.

Maybe it made him small. Maybe it made him petty, or mean, or a bad friend. But he missed being the favorite. Andy’s favorite. Andy’s. “Hey.” Buzz nudged at him, sat down with a thump.

“I know, I know,” and maybe his tone was just a little bit crabby, but Buzz didn’t complain, just sat there, his shoulder brushing Woody’s as they looked at the painting in the big room of the castle. A smiling purple Buzz had one arm draped around a bright red Woody, and together they were planting a star-shaped flag on a white-and-yellow moon.


Part 4: Buzz
Buzz has never really thought about his fingers before. His helmet needs the occasional adjustment, and the thick joints on his knees need more maintenance than he’d prefer, but his fingers? He’s never had much cause to think about them. They’re good for grasping and jumping and sliding into a fall with style. They are also, apparently, good for holding Woody’s hand prisoner for the longest tea party he can remember.

It’s excruciating, somehow, all the more so because Bonnie keeps adjusting them. His hold is too firm on Woody’s soft, stuffed wrists (“You’re pinching!” Bonnie cried. “That’s not nice!” And it wasn’t), too loose to keep Woody’s slick plastic palm cradled for long. His index finger is separate because he needs to point at enemies and call Star Command and steady teacups. His index finger is separate because he needs it to pin Woody’s hand gently against his thumb, just like Uncle Jack and his new husband Brandon.

He’s never been disquieted by new frontiers. He likes this bold new life, with a castle-cum-starbase and a mobile with a glowing planet Saturn and a special place just for Buzz that had belonged to Pluto, a planet no more.

He’s not supposed to like this. Potato’s moustache keeps quirking when Bonnie looks away, like he can hardly hold back his wisecrack, and Hamm’s smirk invites Buzz to be in on the joke.

It doesn’t feel like a joke. It’s not, not to Bonnie who loves her Uncle Jack more than anything. She’d told him so, late last night when she’d snuck Buzz out of his castle and under the covers for a chat. The look on Woody’s face when he’d thought he was going to be left behind, left again, all alone in the castle while Buzz once again got his promotion… The look on his face when Bonnie had snuggled Buzz back in the Starbase Ballroom… “It’s a surprise,” she whispered, giving Woody a comforting pat. “You’ll see.” A stern look – a commander’s look – for Buzz, “Now, don’t you spoil it!”

It’s not a joke. Woody will laugh, because he always laughs in that harsh way when something catches him by surprise and he’s bracing for the blow this new situation will bring him, but it’s not a joke.

Well, is he a Space Ranger, bravest man in the galaxy, or not? He curls his hand around Woody’s, soft and secure, and gives Mr. Potato Head his best commanding glare. It’s not that he doesn’t want to look at Woody just now. Bonnie might see such a big movement, and it’s his duty to make sure that everyone stays in line and… And…

And Woody’s fingers curl around his, squeeze for just a moment before they go stiff and straight again because Bonnie’s come back with the tea.

It’s not a joke. He’ll make them see. It’s infinity and beyond.

Part 5. Buzz

There’s a very particular blend of happiness and fear he’s only ever had from Woody. It made sense to feel that way when Woody was ready to jump onto a moving plane. It made sense when Woody’s too-big heart placed faith in yet another Zurg-in-training who had shown no signs of deserving it. It even made sense when he’d seen Woody slide into the attic box, big false cheerful smile doing a terrible job of masking his terror and heartbreak and stubborn, stubborn love for them all. That cocktail doesn’t belong here, now, but Woody is all hunched up, staring at his hat with its brand new ring-of-Saturn ornament with something very like sadness.

It’s not so easy to resist the urge to pat his back, feel for the star sticker with a big “S” for sheriff that Bonnie had drawn on herself with great ceremony. His stomach swells with warmth just thinking of it, of the blinding grin Woody had offered when Bonnie was turned around to move the wedding party into a new line for the reception.

But it sinks again because there’s Woody, crumpled up on the castle floor and a million lightyears away.

He lowers himself to the floor – darn those knees, more oil already? – and makes himself stay quiet. Woody’s silence is oppressive, but if it’s what he needs right now… He can make a game of it. There’s Dr. Porkchop and Zurg, teamed up to interrogate him for the space station security codes. They’ll threaten and stare and turn on bright lights, but he’s not going to talk, not for all the gold in the galaxy…

He almost jumps when fingers brush against his. Woody’s looking at him, something slow and sad and other things that are harder to pin down. “Andy never played with us like this,” he says, and that hand that isn’t not-touching Buzz reaches out to toy with Saturn’s wedding ring.

“No,” he agrees cautiously, but since when has he been cautious? “But it’s good,” he mutters, and loosens his helmet, leans in to brush his lips on Woody’s cheek.

“Yeah,” Woody agrees, and the smile on his face is much less complicated. “It’s good,” he whispers, and leans right in for a real kiss.

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DeviantArt offers something relevant to our interests.

Doesn't Woody make the best faces?

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excuse me but this thread is fucking hilarious

...well, pull my string.

Getting up for work at three o'clock in the morning sucks balls, but it's worth it when eleven o'clock rolls around and Sid has the whole rest of the day to himself. Plus, it's not like his job is hard. He can listen to his music, doesn't have to deal with any obnoxious co-workers, and he gets to drive a pretty bad ass truck. He wasn't exactly planning on being a doctor or a lawyer or anything. He never had the grades, or the patience for bitchy teachers and ass-kissing classmates. As soon as he was sixteen, he was done with school, and he's been hauling garbage for almost a year already.

At quitting time he returns the truck and jumps in his car, heads back to his dad's house and takes a shower. He's considered showing up to Andy's room still reeking of the job, just to be an asshole, and also to see if Andy would decide he needed to get pounded badly enough to take it while Sid was dirty and sweaty from his shift. Still, Sid can make the clean little college boy pretty dirty even when he shows up smelling like Irish Spring and Axe, so he washes up every time, his skin tingling under the water at the thought of climbing into Andy's bed just as the full heat of the afternoon settles over the suburbs.

Sid drums his hands on the steering wheel and blasts the radio on the way to Andy's house. Summer has just begun, and there's no more long waits through the weekdays, hoping that Andy will be home on the weekend to do laundry and offer Sid his ass. Sid grilled him all year about sleeping with other guys while he's off at college, but Andy claims that there's nobody else. Sid has stopped sleeping around himself since reconnecting with Andy during Andy's senior year of high school. Sid got busted for pot and had to do community service at an old folks' home where Andy was working semi-voluntarily; he needed the community service hours for his college application.

The old folks' home was depressing and they both hated it, Andy because he felt sorry for the old people and Sid because the old people smelled worse than the garbage dump. Andy would sit next to Sid during his smoke breaks and offer him bites of the candy bars he got from the rec room's vending machine. They'd lived next door to each other as kids, and Sid had bullied Andy into some pretty naughty games of doctor back then, while Andy took revenge by somehow making Sid think his toys had come to life and wanted to hurt him. Sid still hasn't figured out how Andy did that, and they haven't discussed it, nor have they discussed those games of doctor, though Sid is pretty sure he's got those long-ago afternoons to thank for the fact that Andy blushes and moans for him now.

He parks a little ways down the street and walks the rest of the way to Andy's mom's house, the whole neighborhood singing with cicadas. It's too hot to be outside, and there's no kids on bikes or sunbathing teenagers on front lawns. Sid hops up onto the railing of Andy's front porch and hoists himself onto its roof, huffing a little, tired from work and already sweating under his fresh Slayer t-shirt. The cicadas reach a crescendo as Sid sneaks his fingers under the window that Andy always leaves cracked open for him, and Sid feels like the bugs are egging him on. So far this summer they've provided a regular soundtrack for his ravishing of Andy, though he usually only notices them in the aftermath, when they're both panting and sweaty under the blankets on Andy's bed.

Andy is still asleep, even though it's almost noon. Lazy college boy prick, Sid thinks with a grin as he toes off his sneakers. He watches Andy sleeping as he dresses down to his boxer shorts, listening for any signs that the house isn't empty. Andy's mother's car is gone, and she'll be at work until five, Andy's little sister off at some day camp. They've got the house to themselves as usual, but Andy is still pretty quiet whenever Sid's in him, maybe just out of pride.

“Hey,” Sid says, whispering as he kneels onto Andy's bed. Andy moans a little and shifts but doesn't open his eyes, even when Sid slips under the blankets to lie on top of him. Andy's skin is warm and a little damp, his cheeks flushed. The air conditioning can't quite keep up with the heat outside, which shimmers over the asphalt and makes the air feel heavy. Andy is dressed only in boxers himself, and he smiles when his eyes crack open and he sees Sid leaning up over him on his elbows, touching the tip of his nose to Andy's.

“Hey,” Andy says, his voice deep and broken with sleep. Sid wastes no time, leaning in to part Andy's sleep-swollen lips with his tongue, licking into the heat of his mouth. His breath is a little stale, but Sid still loves the taste of him. Andy is like an uncharted island, and he still feels pure and untouched, even after everything they've done to each other over the past two years.

“It's kind of our anniversary today,” Andy says, smiling up at Sid when he pulls back to catch his breath. Sid rolls his eyes.

“You're such a chick,” he says. Sid couldn't have named the exact date himself, but he does know that it was June when he first pushed Andy up against the brick wall outside the old folks' home and kissed him. He'd been curious about Andy's flirting, wondering if it was intentional or oblivious, and he still couldn't decide which it was when Andy gasped and blushed before leaning in for more.

“I'm not a chick,” Andy says, scowling. “It's not like I bought you a present or anything. I'm just saying.”

Sid snorts at the idea that they would buy each other presents. They barely see each other outside of Andy's bed. Back when Andy was still in high school, Sid would show up at his window at night, uninvited, and Andy's heart would pound so hard when Sid touched him, just like when they were kids, Andy's eyes going wide and his breath coming out in pants. Sid gets off on Andy's innocence, and Andy gets off of Sid's grimy wickedness, that's all. When Andy is off at college, it's not like Sid lies in bed and obsesses over thoughts about what Andy is doing, wondering if he's meeting other, smarter guys, older guys with more experience and apartments of their own. He knows this is going to end sooner or later, that Andy isn't going to end up with a garbageman for a boyfriend. But for now, they've got the summer. Andy's ass is his for a few more months.

“Such a slut for me,” Sid teases, reaching between Andy's legs to palm his erection. Andy moans and arches up into the touch, his eyebrows knitting.

“It's morning wood, stupid,” he says. He winds his arms around the small of Sid's back and gives him a squeeze. “You're sunburned,” he says, looking up into Sid's eyes.

“Yeah, it was a long day of hauling trash.” Sid jokes about the job as often as he can, and makes fun of Andy for his college boy dreams. If they couldn't laugh about it, the difference between their lives would be unbearable.

“At least it makes you kind of cut,” Andy says with a smirk, running his hands up Sid's sides to feel his lean muscles.

“Doing a real man's work will do that,” Sid says, pretending to be proud, and Andy snorts. His blush returns when Sid scoots down to lick and bite at his nipples. Andy's little gasps still sound so surprised, even after two years of this, and he whines when Sid pulls one of his hard little buds through his teeth.

“R-real men go to college, too,” Andy says, running his hands through Sid's hair as he moves lower, licking his way down Andy's chest.

“Keep telling yourself that, dork,” Sid says. They talked to each other like this when they were boys, and they haven't broken the habit. The only time they say each other's names with anything resembling tenderness is when one of them is coming in the other's hand.

What happens under the blankets is pretty standard. Andy is the best lay Sid has ever had mostly because of the delicacy of his reactions, the way his hands tremble and his eyes slide shut slowly when he's dazed by how good Sid makes him feel. Also, the way he looks doesn't hurt. He's got a sweet face, pretty eyes, freckles, all in contrast to Sid's darker, sharper features. Sid likes the way Andy looks at him, too, like he's a little bit scared of what Sid will do next, but wants to find out.

“Yeah,” Andy moans softly when Sid pulls his fingers from Andy's mouth and brings them down between his legs. This is Sid's favorite part, in a way, just watching Andy's face as Sid opens him, getting him ready to be fucked. The first time Sid fingered him Andy came like a firecracker and got sort of wibbly afterward, rubbing his nose against Sid's chest, looking to be held. He needs that kind of stuff, and Sid gives it to him, calling him a wuss in whispers while he kisses Andy's cheeks. Andy grew up without a father, and Sid without a mother. If Sid were a college boy he'd probably try to make something of that, but as it is he's just glad they compliment each other for the time being.

“Ready for me?” Sid taunts when Andy is pushing himself down onto Sid's fingers, whining and flushing hard, his eyes pinched shut. Andy winces and nods, and Sid grins as he leans in to nip at Andy's neck. He tells himself, when he worries about how much longer Andy will want this, that no matter how many smarter, richer pretty boys Andy has in the future, nobody will ever fuck him this well. He'll remember Sid when they're in him, and he'll wish they were him.

They both moan when Sid pushes in, Andy's arms winding around Sid's neck. Sid is robbed of a thought process for a minute, unaware of everything except the pulsing heat of Andy all around him, and the push of their breath as their chests press together. Andy starts kissing Sid's face, his legs lifting up to wrap around the small of Sid's back, and Sid comes back to himself, lifting his head and bumping his nose against Andy's.

“Tight little college boy ass,” he murmurs, and Andy just grins, squeezing around him, laughing when Sid groans.

“That's right,” Andy says. “So fuck me with your big, working man dick.” He laughs again, and Sid snorts, nipping at Andy's jaw. Smart ass. Sid knows he's not really much of a man, at least no more than Andy is, and even though he's always on top, he never feels like more of a boy than he does when he's in this bed with Andy.

They both forget how to joke about this once they really get going, the bed growing humid with the heat of their bodies as Sid grits his teeth and starts giving Andy the pounding he's been dreaming about since they did this yesterday. Andy goes nuts for it as usual, arching and panting, his hands scrabbling against the wooden headboard of his bed until Sid pins them to the mattress. Later, he'll push Andy up onto his hands and knees and make him hold that headboard while he takes Sid's cock, but he's already too close to coming to change positions. They both go off so easily during the first go-round, but it's okay. They're still teenagers, and they can get it up again easily. Their record is five times in one night, which happened when Andy came home for winter break after his first semester. He'd been gone almost a month, consumed by finals and papers and all that shit. As soon as Sid was through the window they were on each other, fucking with their clothes still on, flies open and underwear shoved down, Andy bent over the side of the bed, biting his hand to keep from screaming. That was a good night, and Sid ended up falling asleep in Andy's bed, too drained to climb out the window. He woke up at dawn to find Andy still curled against his chest, snoring a little, every ounce of energy fucked out of him. It was sort of a proud moment in Sid's life.

"Gonna come," Sid says in a growl, thinking about the way Andy gets when he's well-fucked, punch-drunk and goofy in the aftermath. Sid has already jerked Andy to completion, his come cooling on Sid's chest, slick between their bellies as Sid braces himself on the mattress and starts fucking Andy hard enough to knock the headboard against the wall. Andy is sort of brainless beneath him, moaning like he can't get enough, his heels digging into Sid's back.

"Yeah," Andy pants out, his eyes only half-open, lips bitten and red. "Come on. Come on, fucking – yeah."

He arches when Sid slams in with a final thrust, unloading inside him. Sid flops down to growl his orgasm into Andy's ear, his hips still working, thrusts growing weaker and weaker as he empties himself. Finally he can't even hold himself up anymore, and he drops down onto Andy completely, still inside him, deflating with a groan. Andy's hands slide across Sid's sweaty back, his palms warm and soft.

Sid is in outer space for awhile, buzzing and sated, his face buried against Andy's neck. It's Andy's slowing pulse that brings him back, thumping against Sid's cheek. Sid lifts his head and snickers at Andy's expression.

"What?" Andy says.

"The way you look."

"Yeah?" Andy rubs a hand over his eyes. "How do I look?"

"Like you just got your brains fucked out."

Sid slides out, ready to be free of Andy's sweltering skin. He kicks the blankets away and stretches out on his back, lying beside Andy and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of his bedroom.

"What are you gonna do today?" Andy asks after awhile, both of them still breathing a little heavily in the heat of the room.

"Sleep," Sid says. "Maybe get drunk with my dad, watch some TV."

"I was thinking about going to the water park," Andy says. He rolls toward Sid, nosing at his shoulder.

"That's lame," Sid mutters, thinking of the friends Andy will go with, other lazy college fucks enjoying their summer off, boys with names like Braden and Tyler.

"I know it's kinda lame," Andy says. "But it's so hot. I don't know. I think it could be fun."

"Well, have a good time with your butt buddies," Sid says, sitting up with a groan. He'd wanted to hang around for awhile, have sex again, maybe take a nap here, but whatever. If Andy has plans.

"I was kinda hoping you'd come with me," Andy says, pulling at his elbow. "Being that you're my number one butt buddy."

Sid laughs a little, staring down at his lap.

"Is this some kind of anniversary bullshit?" Sid says.

"Fine, be an asshole," Andy says, and he sounds sincerely mad. He rolls away from Sid, hugging his pillow.

"It's not like you've ever asked me to go anywhere in two years," Sid says, something rattling in his chest, making him wish he hadn't said anything.

"Maybe I was waiting for you to ask me," Andy mutters into his pillow, barely audible.

"You just want me to pay your admission to the water park, is that it?" Sid asks, leaning down to put his chin on Andy's shoulder. "Because you're a broke little college boy?"

"Whatever," Andy says, trying to shrug him off. "I don't give a shit. Go get drunk with your dad, yeah, that's awesome."

"Don't be a bitch," Sid says, pinching Andy's side. "I was kidding."

Andy rolls onto his back and scowls up at Sid. With the freckles and those blue eyes, he only manages look adorable, not angry. Sid gives him a sharp kiss between his eyes.

"Fine, we'll go to the gay water park," Sid says, his hand sliding down over Andy's chest.

"Sid." Andy smirks. "You know that you're gay, right?"

"Well – yeah – but. You're gayer."

For some reason this makes Andy laugh really hard, and Sid tackles him, because he needs one more fuck to get him through the rest of the day. Though really, the day will be easier to get through than usual if Andy is close by, within ass-grabbing reach, blushing and yelping and doing all those things that keep Sid coming back for more. He fucks Andy against the headboard, reaching up to hold onto it, too. He puts his hand over Andy's, and slips his fingers between Andy's when they part for him, his sunburned skin looking so dark next to Andy's.

"You like that?" he asks Andy, who's looser now, wet and open for him, snapping back to meet his thrusts.

"Love it," Andy says, gasping the words out and slamming back harder. Sid goes still for

half a beat, thinking he heard Andy say Love you, but he recovers quickly, because that's impossible. So what, two years, the way Andy reaches for him when he arrives and whines when he pulls away to leave, the light that jumps into his eyes when Sid grins at him, the fact that he remembers the exact date of their first kiss: so what? Still, when Sid comes he squeezes Andy as hard as he can, holding him against his chest, his breath ripping out of him, both of them dripping with sweat now. He drops to the bed, feeling dizzy, and Andy is too close, his skin all sticky and slick, his body radiating heat, but Sid doesn't push him away, and Andy doesn't pull free.

"So," Andy says when they're close to passing out from heat exhaustion, Sid's arm draped over Andy's side and Andy's ass snug against Sid's thighs, both of them so liquefied that it's like they've melted into each other, inextricable now. "Water park?"

"Sure," Sid says, half-asleep. "If you can still walk."

They clean up as best they can with a damp towel, Sid borrows one of Andy's dorky bathing suits, and they head for Sid's car. It's weird to leave Andy's house through the front door rather than the bedroom window, but Sid doesn't say so. His car has no air-conditioning, and they put the windows down, but Andy's cheeks are still bright red by the time they reach the crowded water park. Once they get inside, Sid buys a lemonade and holds the frosty cup to Andy's forehead, which makes him laugh.

"Is this my anniversary present?" Andy asks, taking the cup and drinking from it.

"Pssh," Sid says, grabbing a belt loop on Andy's board shorts and pulling him toward the rides. "Getting nailed was your present. This is just. A bonus, I guess."

"A bonus," Andy says, beaming, and Sid can tell that he thinks it's more than that, but he lets it go. Andy has always been sentimental. Sid remembers watching Andy play through a hole in the fence between their houses when they were very little, after Andy's family had just moved in. He remembers thinking that Andy seemed like such a baby, mostly because of the way he hugged his toys. Andy is still a baby: a soft, wide-eyed college boy, but Sid has to admit that he's glad to be the one getting hugged by him these days.


Woah. That was actually...really good. Finally a fic where Sid didn't grow up to be some psychopath. And his relationship with Andy is, dare I say it, cute. I love this.

(and is the garbage man!Sid thing popular fanon or did I miss something during the movie?)

>Andy grew up without a father, and Sid without a mother.

This is really well written, but that specific line completely took me out of the story. Sid's mother was a character in the first movie (voice only, but still). Sage for complaining about what was otherwise a pretty awesome fic.

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Sid was the garbage man towards the beginning and end of the movie. pic related

Yeah, it's true that Sid did have a mom (I just remembered that now) But I think for this particular fic that creative liberty was... I don't know, it didn't really wreck anything for me, personally? It felt like it was necessary; Andy being more sentimental and I guess for lack of a better term, emotional because he was raised by his mother only and needed or wanted that physical contact, reassurance w/e and Sid (who was in this case, only raised by his father or maybe his mother left or something who knows) being more brusque and guy-like and having someone who needs that little extra bit of emotional/physical comfort would just make it more-- ugh having trouble articulating myself here. :'D It just made the situation more endearing I guess~


I'm just going to point out that that is a flawed stereotype. A lot of people that act like Sid have been raised by their mothers, or both parents or whatever.
Having being raised by a father all by his own doesn't exactly mean that that person will act in a harsh, manly or brusque way.

But yeah, it can work the way you explain it, so go trough since I'm enjoying this madly.


This...this was amazing. Really well written and well thought-out.

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Who is Sid's dad? Kent Knutson?

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Once again, DeviantArt provides. Cute art is cute, per usual.




THIS. GUH--AMAZING. Never stop writing.


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Tim has done it again.

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sooooo scary lol

Does anyone have a link to this fic on LJ?

Yeah, it's by Snooter. Google is your friend.

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Guess what just got delivered hot and fresh on /y/ and /co/

Moot/Hiccup/Andy OT3

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I'm not sure why I'm okay with this.

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photodump courtesy of the /y/ thread

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/coq/ why is your uploading so slow today this is the third time it's timed out :[

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Oh, and this, which is not gay but is awesome. Seriously I want to see actual cowboy Woody and actual spaceman Buzz fighting crime or whatever, like a Sergio Leone movie with space lasers and more gay.


Holy shit that's awesome.


I want this with the intensity of a thousand burning loins


For some reason this part (with Sid's "AWWROIGHT!") and Mr Shark never fail to make me laugh.

I've never seen a Sergio Leone movie, but for some reason, I saw this as Apollo and Midnighter except one is a spaceman and the other is a cowboy. It's a grand idea.


You've never seen the Man With No Name trilogy?! Good god, man, get yourself a movie rental, stat! (I was sort of meh toward westerns and only watched them out of a sense of "hey, they're classics so they're probably at least okay" and they blew me the fuck away. Some of my favorite movies, now, though I still say For a Few Dollars More is a shade better than The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.)

...If you need more incentive to watch them, have you ever played metal gear? Kojima based Big Boss and Ocelot on characters from these movies. For a Few Dollars More is basically just young BB and old Ocelot in the old west as bounty hunters. There have been actual scholarly dissertations on the homoeroticism in the trilogy. In conclusion go watch it now, do it do it do it


Whoa, someone knows.

Need Kent porn, fluff, or anything. He would be SO damn hot if drawn right.


It's a Ken, Kens are supposed to look hot.

I think high plains drifter is like the best western ever. (part of the series)

Fucking epic.



Speaking of AUs, I just recently had a terrible realization- when Buzz's back panel is open, you can see the batteries are buy n' large brand. Toys are effectively immortal if not destroyed.

Someday, so long after gas masks become necessary to go outside that no one thinks about it anymore, their owner and family will leave with their suitcases full of belongings. Maybe they've gone on vacation, except one week passes, and then two, until there's a fine layer of dust on everything and no one comes back. Outside, there is nothing. No footsteps. No voices. No animals, no people. There is only the wasteland.

At least Rex is okay, he's part of Wall-E's collection.

They are all part of Wall-E's collection. They just weren't in view in that shot.


More Sid/Andy fic by the same author. The porn is in the second part:

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I... I didn't want to admit it but... I love this pairing so much...

That aside, this is all DA had for us.


Fucking UNF. This writer is superb. I feel so lucky that we have their talents.

I find older!Sid ridiculously adorable in the sense that I'm overcome with the desire for putting him in some sort of unpleasant situation.... like pissing off an older coworker and being taught a 'lesson'... or something... *fingers itch to write*

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(Replaces "older coworker" with "sadistic bunch of toys" - maybe some of those messed up perverted toys, like the teddy bear with a penis? Yes, I've seen it.)

you mean SIDistic toys, right?
nyuk nyuk nyuk.


aw man, dude! /sob

The entire thing is awesome. Read the first part, too.

Same. It was so adorable.

Woody/crossdresser!Buzz (aka "Mrs Nesbit") over at the Toy Story slash LJ. Recc'd cause it has actual toy-sex, none of that human AU bull.

Fic prompt go!

A mythical, unaired episode of Buzz Lightyear of Space Command (the TV show) in which Buzz is marooned on a desert planet. Stranded from his crew, he's saved by the sheriff of a nearby town. Cue epic bromance.

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Dumping a few images from /y/

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well i can live happily now that snooter's fic is my headcanon

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Bumping with more content from the /y/ thread!

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wait oh shit are we autosaging?

New thread

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