#[hope its good bc rusty]

[m88n]

"I feel like people might think of me more as a concept," You start, "Like maybe they're stalking me more than actually trying to get to know me as a person. You know," You continue pseudo-nonchalantly, your fingers gingerly dancing on top of your laptop touchpad, as if to distract yourself from the words you've managed to somehow pull out of thin air. Or rather, the untouched inner depths of your thoughts that's gone unvoiced for so long it simply feels detached--almost foreign to you; as if it were a completely different person that was saying these words.

After these words made its way past your lips, you've been made painfully aware that this is an overrun thought of yours that you've somehow learned to settle with, to be okay with, despite how discouraging it's always been with how you've tried to approach human intimacy.

...Or atleast that's what you tell yourself.

....Other times you do tell yourself, thoughts are just thoughts. Or that perhaps you're the sole catalyst to all these interactions.

Either way, this particular thought always sat strangely in the corners of your mind.

Mark looks at you blankly in response, albeit dead straight at your eyes with quiet conviction. The edges of his lips curve up slightly to what you'd make out as a confused smile. What comes out of his mouth right afterwards, without missing a beat, somehow manages to short circuit the tangledness that you've learned to hold for the longest time. And made you realize that maybe, reality shouldn't be perceived in a scope that has been narrowed to fit some cookie cutter belief.

"...I don't get it. I wouldn't stalk you. Why would I, when I have the real thing right here with me?"

[loregoddess]

I'm currently playing the Ace Attorney trilogy on Switch. Do you have any thoughts on Case 1-5? (I certainly do but I'll make my own post in due time.)

Case 1-5 is Rise from the Ashes, right? It's been awhile since my deep-dive into AA, but I remember really loving the intrigue of that case. It's not my most beloved case (that probably goes to Turnabout Goodbyes), but I remember really enjoying the twists and turns of how the story for Rise from the Ashes unfolded. I really love Ema too, although she unfortunately doesn't make a story appearance after this for a while in the mainline games. Also it's always fun to make fun of Edgeworth's garish bright red car, which makes its debut in this case...what a hideous car, he never gets rid of it either, I love it.

[seelestia]

✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)

⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )

#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }

#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.

#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.

it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?

it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?

for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.

before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.

what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)

but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.

ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.

a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—

“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.

“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.

...so, that's who.

(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)

it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.

taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.

this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.

'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.

sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.

call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.

“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”

the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.

“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”

neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.

(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)

⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.

it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.

everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.

he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.

but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.

don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.

tick-tock! tick-tock!

the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.

“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.

and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”

the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”

“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.

“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.

but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.

wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.

(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)

⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.

it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.

they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.

trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!

he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.

he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.

how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.

maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.

will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).

it never gets old.

when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.

for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.

“lyney?”

right on cue.

your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.

“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.

you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.

your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!

“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.

“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.

who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”

his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.

“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.

“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.

with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.

“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”

there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.

“lynette!”

but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.

— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡

[heavenangelly]

Take a leap of faith

This sort of links to my post about knowing the law for a long time but not being able to apply.

So you know the law. It’s practically engraved in your brain. You may have even had successes in the past. But no matter what, you can’t get back into the success era. Days turn into weeks of you trying and hoping and your desires just feel so out of touch from you. Like you’ll never get them.

Throughout this cycle, you may have even developed a little resistance to the desire you really want. You became so desperate for it, trying to apply the law, but failing. This cycle could have brought resistance to your desire. You want it but your mind is pushing you away from it because you view it as unattainable.

And because of all these cycles of failure, you start doubting your abilities. You no longer can manifest anything and now you’re just scrolling on tumblr, hoping to find a post that will revive you. And when you find it, it’s addictive because you get it now, but then you lose the feeling and try to search for something else. All of this instead of applying. All these periods of inactivity regarding manifesting has caused you to become rusty. So I’m here to put some grease on you and get u working again (and hopefully one day you’ll leave tumblr and finally start enjoying life, being the master manifester you are and have always been)

Take a leap of faith

Your desires will NOT feel natural to you when you first go into the state of having them after long periods of resisting them. They’ll feel foreign and you’ll hyper fixate on your failures and the 3d. It will make you want to leave the state because it’s not comfortable and it’s weird and you don’t like it.

PLEASE DONT DO THAT. Keep on going back to that state. Never let that state go. Fulfil yourself and just let go of the 3d. At its core, the 3d is you.

What’s there to fear if it’s my mirror? - Edward Art

It’s going to be uncomfortable. You’re going to be scared. But all those feelings will pass. And eventually, having your desire will feel natural and SO good. You’ll realise that the 3d is just a mirror and means nothing. You’ll understand how much fucking power you have. It will feel liberating. And when the feeling dies down, don’t worry. You still have what u want and you are still powerful. Your power never dies, only flows.

Don’t let ur comfort zone hold you back. Dare to free yourself from it and go beyond. Take a leap of faith and leap right into the state of your desires. Your mind will make you think you want to leave bc it’s not what it knows, but push it away. Go there everyday and make it your new comfort state. Don’t focus on the 3d and movement, focus on becoming one with your desires. Start fully identifying with them; fusing with them. Don’t take no as an answer. Start trusting in you. Trusting in self.

Just take the 3d completely out of the equation. Take a leap of faith despite what your eyes are showing you. Just leave the circle and see what happens. And no matter what, don’t go back.

the cost of your life is faith. you either believe or you don’t. belief is the difference between the unrealized dream and the realized one. -I’m not sure who

[harksness]

Heaven

A/N: RAAAAH i'm so painfully horny for this woman isjbfaisubg this request was EXACTLY something i wanted to write after coming back from my long ass hiatus, but it was already getting so long i only fulfilled most of the request i'm sorry :( i want to get more practice writing again before ms. mommy agatha's show comes out so i'm planning on coming back and doing the throat fucking part of it after i complete a few of my other requests... just in its own lil mini fic i hope thats ok but yeah! i'm a lil rusty bcs it's been so long, i rly hope everyone likes it <3

the request

Warnings: Mommy kink, dom! Agatha, sub! Reader. Lil bit of a breeding kink, magical strap, magic being used for sex, praise, pure smut

WC: 3.4k

Agatha has two fingers deep in your mouth. Pressing lightly on your tongue, dragging in and out as she fucks into you, your eyes fluttering shut with each slide back in along your tongue. Your cheeks cave to try and suck her long, slender digits back into your mouth, desperate to keep her inside of you in any way you possibly can.

“Mmm.. Such a good girl for Mommy… You love it when I fuck your mouth, hm?”

Her voice is gravely, a depraved grin of desire wide on her features. You whimper out a pathetic sound around her fingers, feeling a bit of drool slip past your lips and trail down your chin.

Your chest is heaving. She’s already played with you, used you thoroughly, and you still want more from her. You don’t understand the effect she has on you, how she does it, but no matter how much she satisfies you, you’re always desperate for more of her. More of her attention, more of her love, more of her mouth and fingers..

Looking up at her through your lashes, her wild hair hangs in her features, making her look crazy. She bites into her bottom lip, still grinning. You let out the most desperate moan around her fingers as she presses herself down and starts grinding her bare, wet cunt against your naked thigh.

“Fuck.. I love it when you get messy for me.”

She breathes the words out hotly.. You can feel how soaked she is against your skin and it only turns you on more as you begin to slightly rock your hips up into her.

“Can you be a good girl and take another finger?”

Agatha asks so sweetly, pretty blue eyes full of love and affection as she fixes them onto your mouth. You don’t even have to process what she asked to obey- doing whatever Agatha wants of you is programmed into every fiber of your being. You’d move the moon if she asked.

You open your mouth to form a wide O. Immediately she takes advantage of the opportunity you’ve given her, dragging out her previous two fingers to run along your bottom lip tenderly for a moment before sliding three of them back into your mouth, back along your lip until they’re knuckle deep. You immediately begin to suck on her long fingers.

She grinds harder against your thigh, and you let out a loud moan that’s muffled by her three fingers slowly fucking into your mouth. Agatha ghosts her lips against your ear, breathing out her next words hotly.

“I want to know what it’s like to feel your sweet mouth wrapped around me..”

She’s breathless. Her movements against your thigh quickens as she lets out a short gasp of pleasure. You feel yourself getting more wet as you realize what she means.

“Wanna feel..”

Her breath hitches. You let out a pathetic noise as the rolling of her hips against your skin becomes more frantic.

“God.. Wanna know what it’s like to feel your messy cunt.. Wanna know what it’s like to fill you up, and watch my love drip out of you.. Make you all mine.. Just mine..”

You let out a needy groan around her fingers, nodding desperately as you try to convey just how badly you want it too.

Agatha stops her movements. Dread drops into your gut. She was close. You wanted to feel her cum on your thigh so badly… But she leaves you little time to mourn as her fingers slip out of your mouth. 

The older woman wraps her fingers around your jaw, steadying your lolling head to look right up at her. She smears your spit onto your cheek. You need to blink a few times to focus your vision, but there she is, icy blue gaze hot on your features, mouth quirked downward in a serious manner. Her hair is so knotted and messy, hanging right over her breasts and covering the sides of her face as she addresses you.

“What if I had a real, feeling cock, baby? Would you let me use it on you however I want?”

Agatha purrs, a smirk etching onto her features as she runs a hand up your chest. You frantically nod, racing to answer any of her questions as quickly as possible.

“Oh my god, yes..”

You moan and she’s grinning as she moves off of your leg, positioning herself between them instead. Her hands hook behind your knees, pulling you so that you’re laying flat on your back. You let out a gentle yelp of surprise before she leans down towards you, her breath fanning over your lips.

“Would you let me fuck your pretty mouth until you couldn’t speak?”

She softly traces her pointer finger along your wet lips to accent her hypothetical question. Well.. Hopefully it won't stay hypothetical.

Her voice is low. Immediately you nod your head. She’s got a mischievous, sensual look to her features now as her blue eyes hang half lidded with lust.

“Would you… Let me use your sweet pussy however I want?”

Agatha’s lips grow into a coy smirk, softly brushing her nose against yours as her voice lowers even more with each question.

“Oh absolutely…”

You breathe out, desperately trying not to rub your thighs together. Her hair tickles your chest just slightly, one of her hands still firmly gripping into the soft skin around your knee as the other holds her balance as it rests on the bed.

“Would you let me cum deep in you… Fill you up so much that your cute little hole starts dripping, hm? Let me fuck it back into you and fill you up again, and again?”

A pathetic whimper escapes your throat as you throw your head back..

“Oh, Mommy, please… I wanna feel you.. Want you to fill up my pussy, please- Oooh!”

You gasp, snapping your head forward. Excitement bubbles in your chest, heat rising through your abdomen as you see what’s between her legs. And yours.

Warm, purple magic dulls from her hand as she finishes conjuring up what she needs. You bite your lip as you notice the thick, long, purple cock planted between her legs. It’s strange not seeing it attached to a harness. Instead it’s connected between her legs, you assume to her most sensitive spots…

The tip is between your wet folds, pushing them apart as she begins to experimentally drag herself through you.

“Oooh.. Baby, you feel absolutely divine…"

She lets out a deep moan, eyes locked between your legs. Agatha leans back so that she’s resting on her knees between your parted thighs. You let out little gasps of pleasure as she experiments with you, controlling the tip of her cock as she drags it through your wet folds, up and down, before she begins toying with you a little more..

Her wild hair hides most of her face from view, dangling as a curtain in front of her beautiful features. But once in a while you catch a glimpse of her knotted brows and her teeth pinching her bottom lip, entranced and entirely focused as she toys with you. 

Agatha slowly drags the tip further up.. Catching your clit. You let out a deranged moan as she rubs firm, slow circles against your sensitive nub, fisting the sheets as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

Agatha wraps a hand around your hip, guiding the tip of her cock back down as she readjusts your legs. You hold them apart for her, desperate for whatever she’s willing to give as she spreads you wide. You hold your breath in anticipation as she presses in gently.. It softly slides into you with ease. You let out a sigh of relief at the little bit of delicious stretch you’re granted as her tip parts your sopping folds. But she does no more than the tip.

The older woman throws her head back, letting out a long moan as you feel her fingers bite into your hip.

“Haaa… Oh baby.. So, so good..”

She babbles, her low, frantically horny voice makes you desperate to touch yourself. Even though it feels as if every inch of your body is on fire, so desperate for her to move, to fuck you, to touch you more, to get anything more from her, you stay still. Determined to be obedient and please Agatha, you focus on your breathing and twisting your fingers in the sheets.

You let out a pained groan, so desperate for more as she drags her cock back up to your clit, nails biting into your hip deliciously. She repeats the action several more times, gaze locked on where the two of you are joined. From your clit, to teasing your entrance, and back again. Repeat, over and over. It’s driving you mad.. The low, breathy moans she lets pass through her lips rather consistently aren't helping, either. You’re unable to stop your squirming and desperate noises, they're just growing and getting worse with your building arousal. Eventually you can’t help but start outwardly pleading for more.

“Please.. I want you.. I’ve been such a good girl for you, Mommy, please..”

You babble, and she looks up at you. You know she loves seeing your wrecked face. She sticks out her bottom lip, feigning pity as she coos at your pathetic sniffles. Agatha leans over you, taking your jaw in her hands, peppering kisses all over your features.

“You’re right, baby.. I’m so sorry. You’re just so perfect for me, I want to make this last forever. I want to etch the way your perfect cunt feels into my memory..”

Her words are dripping with sweetness as she kisses the corners of your lips.

“Feels so good.. Please, Mommy, more?”

It comes out as a question when you don’t really mean it to. Your mind is just so hazy from all the teasing, you can barely keep yourself together. Agatha smiles at you, overflowing with joy at your wrecked state as she starts to trail soft kisses across your jaw and down your neck.

“Anything for my good girl.”

She purrs against your skin, and then heaven.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she pushes in. Adjusting your legs, and planting one hand firmly back onto your hip as she does so. There’s no resistance, only warm, perfect euphoria as inch by delicious inch she slides into you and the stretch feels so good. You babble to her, telling her how good it feels as you let out a long moan, every part of her magical cock against the walls of your cunt making you feel electric with pleasure.

Agatha’s jaw is stiff, lips hung open. Her eyes are clenched shut, shoulders heaving with her heavy breaths as she feels you take her. She lets out a long moan.

“Oh, angel.. You feel like heaven..”

She hums as she pushes the last bit into you. Lidded blue eyes meet with yours as her hips press flush against your own. You whimper and moan, squirming beneath her as you try to ground yourself somehow, finding it impossible to do.

“Mommy..”

You gargle out pathetically, and she shushes you.

“Oh baby, I know, I know.. You’re being so good for me, my lovely girl..”

Agatha coos at you, eyebrows creased with affection as she pulls her long hair over one shoulder. She knows how much you love it when her hair is down- easily being able to pull on it, or run your fingers through her smooth brown locks is one of your favorite things to do while she fucks you. It’s so hard for you not to lean up and start toying with it as you wait for her to move.

She plants one hand on the mattress by your head, leaning over you, and you could start drooling from how good she looks. She adjusts your legs and you allow her to move you however she pleases, spreading them open once again as she comfortingly rubs at your thigh. 

Her hair drapes over her shoulder, tickling the side of your chest just a bit. Her perfect breasts hang in your face, and you have to grab the blankets harder to resist the urge to take them in your hands to lovingly worship. The long expanse of soft, pale skin along her chest and stomach are so tempting for you to run your hands along- you want to trace your fingers over every scar, every freckle and mole. Her pretty face is set on you. God, your heart stutters in your chest as you look at her- thick eyebrows set in concentration, beautiful blue eyes eating up the way you look underneath her, and her perfect pink lips set in a slight smile.

She quirks a teasing eyebrow down at you.

“You can touch, sweet thing.”

Agatha sounds oh so amused when she says those words.

You whisper out quick, appreciative thanks as you raise your hands and immediately start smoothing them over her breasts. You paw at them gently, running your thumbs over the plush skin, moving your hands to run your thumb over her soft pink nipples. 

“Look up at me… Focus those pretty eyes on me…”

Her words are controlled and breathy as she tries to keep her composure.

You listen right away. You’re sure you look like a ruined, sloppy mess all for her. 

And you know she absolutely loves it.

She begins rocking her hips, not pulling out. Just rocking, and grinding into you as you toy with her chest. Agatha's enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around her, loving the warm, wet friction. She hums softly whenever you run your fingers along her nipples the way she likes… She tilts her head back and moans loudly, her lips dropped open and eyes rolling shut. She looks so beautiful, absolutely unreal.

“Such a good cunt, baby..”

Agatha groans, continuing to rock into you. You moan pathetically, feeling her slip out just a little bit now. She starts to thrust into you, short and shallow as if she can't stand not being buried in your pussy. You clench around her, whimpering a bit, and immediately you flush in embarrassment when you hear the wet noises sounding from where the two of you are joined. 

You drop your hands, enjoying watching her breasts move with each of her desperate thrusts. Her grip on you is a vice, nails digging into the plush of your ass and your hip from where her hand is wrapped around you as she urges your legs up.

You fold them around her nimble hips, locking your ankles together high up on her back. She drops down onto her forearm, letting you wrap your arms around her back, whining appreciatively as you run your hands over her soft, damp skin.

“Sweetheart, you feel so good..”

Agatha mumbles, her voice hazed over with pleasure as she ruts into you, moving just a bit faster. Your moans are broken, hoarse and wild, barely able to push them past your lips at this point. You let out a pathetic whine once again, somehow unable to shut yourself up regardless of how broken your voice is.

“Mommy.. Want you to cum in me.. Please..”

You pathetically beg into her shoulder, peppering sloppy kisses on whatever bit of soft skin you can reach. You mindlessly run your hands over her smooth back for a moment, mind hazy and lost in the euphoria her desperate thrusts are delivering to your mind. But then she buries her face into your neck, propping your hips up as high as they can before she snakes her arms under your back, wrapping them around you as she begins to fuck you with desperate, shallow thrusts. You let out a surprised moan as your nails dig into her back.

You’re so hot, but her warm body pressed flush against yours like this feels so good. Being able to feel her arms pressing into you, her soft skin and smooth curves pressed up against yours.. You're able to feel nothing but Agatha, she's filling all of your senses and you wish you could live like this forever. She bumps into your clit with each thrust, your eyes blurring with pleasure each time as you start to feel your orgasm build. 

“I’m gonna fill you up baby…”

She breathes the words against your ear and you’re moaning louder, feeling yourself clenching around her cock.

“Fuck-”

The word is a continuous, broken moan. You’ve never seen Agatha like this before. So desperate, broken from pleasure. You hum out a moan, holding her tighter, clenching around her as you grow excited for her to lose herself in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Please.. Mommy.. Want you to cum deep in me.. Want you to fill me up until it spills outta me.. Please..”

You babble, her grip tightening around you. She’s desperately grinding her hips against yours, pressing hard and deep, rolling her hips around and around and the friction on your clit is making your mind grow fuzzy. She’s moaning into your shoulder, curses strung between sweet praises and pet names as she snakes a hand from around your back, cupping your cheek and turning your head towards her.

Agatha crashes her lips onto yours, biting her way into your mouth as her tongue melds with yours. You let out a high pitched moan as your legs tense around her hips, your nails digging into her back as yours arches off the bed- your eyes pinched shut with pleasure, your body seizing up as you clench around her cock.

Agatha moans loudly, her thrusts stuttering and sloppy as she feels you cum around her. Her face contorts in that of pure pleasure in a way you've never seen before, head thrown back and mouth clenched as it hangs open in a silent moan, eyes pinched shut tightly. 

Her hips stutter into yours a few more times before she tightens her arms around you like a snake constricting around its prey- hips pressed so hard into yours you're sure you'll bruise. But you don’t care, you're excited to see the bruises in the morning. 

Your eyes lock onto her features as she lets out such a raw moan- unlike anything you've ever heard from the woman before as she shoots thick ropes of cum as deep into you as she possibly can, face buried into your shoulder as she continues to constrict around you.

You hold her back tightly. Arms wrapped around her, feeling the softness of her skin as you keep your legs locked around her back.

She’s breathless, panting as she presses soft kisses all over your upper chest and your shoulders as you both come down from your highs. You smile softly at how she's always looking after you, even when having her moment. Your chest is heaving as she leans back, her hair even messier than before as you reach up to begin petting it into place with your fingers.

“God, you're absolutely perfect… Such a good girl for me..”

Agatha grins down at you, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. You smile into the kiss, caressing the side of her cheek when she leans back.

“I’ll always be a good girl for you, Mommy…”

You purr up at her, aware that all of her wishes for the night haven't been fulfilled yet. She returns your inviting words with a smirk, her eyes pouring with affection. 

“Oh yeah?”

Agatha leans backwards, slowly pulling out of you. You gasp and wince slightly at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you, and the mess it's leaving on your skin and the sheets.

Your lover seems entranced, humming in excitement as she eyes the mess between your legs. Her hand glows purple with magic again as she hovers it over her cock, before it disappears and she starts running the tip through your messy folds.

You whimper at how sensitive you are, but still, excitement builds in you. 

“Are you gonna follow through on your promise from earlier, baby?”

She teases you, voice laced with mockery and that sly smirk of hers quirking at her lips as she presses the tip to your entrance once again. You gasp.

“I promised to always be a good girl for you, didn't I?”

[mxstellatayte]

fuck me up, florida.

warnings: angst for the majority of it, sex at the end though, legal use of alcohol (reader and logan are both 23,) mentions of gunshot wounds, minor character death, based on a taylor swift song, childhood (middle/high school) friends to lovers, idiots in love, "you came" "you called," reader is half mexican (mom's side), slightly inaccurate bc i know carola wasn't at the miami gp but just go with it for the plot, reader's last name is rodriguez,

author's note: y'all i apologize if any of the spanish grammar is a little weird. my spanish is rusty, pls don't hate me for it

logan sargeant x female reader

i need to forget so

tuesday, april 30th.

you scan your ticket, the screen displaying your name and seat number. 12A. at least it'll be easy to sleep, you think.

after shoving your suitcase above your seat, you shuffle your way to the window and buckle yourself in.

are you really doing this? flying a couple thousand miles to visit your childhood best friend who, up until recently, had you convinced that his newfound fame that he'd gathered by announcing his enrollment in the williams driver's academy made him too good for you.

the only thing that made you think otherwise was the instagram dm he'd sent you five weeks prior, asking if you'd be able to make it to the miami grand prix. instead of a simple yes or no, you responded with the heaviest three words you've ever seen in order.

can we call?

logan picked up on the second ring.

"hey."

"hey."

"how's texas?"

you smile. "hot. sunny. flat. beachless."

"so... it's good?" you hate that you can still picture his facial expressions even after not seeing him for years except for on tv.

"'s okay, but it's not home, y'know?"

"definitely. it doesn't matter how much i decorate my place in england, it's never florida."

"nothing besides florida is ever florida," you sigh, looking out the window of your apartment. "how's the season been?" you don't exactly know why you're asking. you know exactly how his season's gone. you keep every single detail of every single race weekend meticulously catalogued in a journal that you take everywhere with you. no matter what, you've stayed up late or woken up early to watch every race, as if your hopeful energy would make its way across the world to him in time.

"honestly? it's been pretty shit. the car handles really badly and wasn't really even ready for the first few hours of testing in bahrain. i can't get it to perform and maybe that's just because i haven't linked with the car yet, but it still really sucks."

you sigh, hoping logan can't tell how disappointed you are with his team and engineers. "you need a better team, lo."

"i know." there's silence between you for a few moments, and every second that passes makes it grow heavier on your chest. "will you come to miami?"

there it is. the reason you called him.

"i don't know, lo. don't get me wrong, i'd love to, but it's really short notice and i don't know if i could afford the trip. i might be able to make it to austin, but i'll need the time to save the money for the trip."

"i'll fly you out," logan immediately says, his tone almost desperate. longing. "i'll pay for your flight, your hotel, everything. please?"

that last word hit you like a punch in the gut. you only had one more reason to not go and you weren't about to tell him that reason. it was a shitty excuse anyways.

you're not about to tell him that the reason you moved to texas was to give him the space he needed to be able to succeed in his career and for you to succeed in yours.

take me to florida

you're jolted awake by the force of the plane landing, if you can call the awkward limbo you were stuck in sleep. immediately, your stomach twists with anxiety. logan had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you refused.

"i'll just take an uber," you'd said. "i'm gonna want to relax a bit after the flight, y'know?"

his only trade-off? you met him for dinner. simple enough, right?

in theory.

now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, you debate between a floral sundress and a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and a white button-up t-shirt with a colorful inkblot pattern.

you decide on the sundress.

fifteen minutes later, you're pushing earrings through your piercings, silver abstract shapes you'd bought on a trip to europe with your mother. you have to leave, but the situation you're in sucks. your hair won't sit right on your head, either being too frizzy from the humidity or losing any and all volume, and your makeup just doesn't seem like it'll last in the miami heat.

fuck it.

who are you dressing for, anyways?

logan's seen you at your absolute worst. he was the only one you let yourself cry in front of after your father died. he was the one that held you for what seemed like hours while you sobbed into his chest and he told you that none of it was your fault- that you never could have known that, when you hugged him before he left for the police station, told him you loved him, and slipped a note into his lunch box, the next time you would see him, he would be laying in a casket. he was the only one that could make you smile in the weeks following his funeral, dropping his entire schedule if you simply sent him a text that said "can you come over?"

the restaurant logan found isn't too far from your hotel, so you ultimately decide to walk. your walk is over before you're able to process that it even started and you're taking out your earbuds and putting them in your bag, taking out your phone instead to text logan.

i'm here.

i've got some regrets

were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?

logan's phone buzzes in his front pocket, but he knows it's you texting him. he doesn't even bother taking it out of his pocket before standing up from his seat at the bar and walking over to you, and when you see him, your smile almost makes his heart melt.

"hey," he says, and he hopes his voice doesn't waver from how nervous he is.

"hey. i missed you," you respond, dodging the hand he holds out and going in for a hug. "i've known you since middle school, logan, i'm not shaking your hand."

your arms around him and your body pressed against his almost makes logan short circuit. thankfully, he's able to regain control of his brain and hug you back, hopefully before you realize he isn't hugging you back.

when you pull back, the hug seeming way too brief for logan's preference, you're looking up and smiling with a sparkle in your eyes that makes him regret not making enough time for you. "thanks for bringing me out here."

"thanks for coming. do you want a drink?"

"sure. do you have a table yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"in that case, lead the way." you gesture towards the restaurant, and logan shows you to a booth in the corner. soon enough, a waiter comes over to you and sets down two glasses of water and two menus.

"welcome in, y'all. do we need a bit of time to look at the menu or do we know what we want to get started?" his southern drawl is thick, and it reminds you of texas. but you're in florida now.

"i think we'll look at the menu for a minute, thanks," logan says, and the waiter nods and walks away. as you open the menu and begin looking, logan points out something you might like and you do the same for him. conversation begins to flow freely between you, and it reminds you of the times in high school when you would go out with friends.

eventually, you decide on a plate of nachos and logan gets a plate of wings. as you wait for your food, you catch up on everything: your move to texas, logan's racing career, your work volunteering with the austin philharmonic, his homesickness from living in england, and everything in between. you crack stupid jokes, share bites of food, and steal sips of each other's drinks.

it's like old times.

i'll bury them in florida

on wednesday, you and logan drive up to visit your father's headstone. it's difficult. it's only the third time you've visited him since he was buried three years ago. the first time you visited him was a year after he died. even a year later, you still carried so much anger and hatred towards the doctors and nurses that were operating on him, trying desperately to save his life after two bullets hit him- one in his leg, one in his torso.

he died on the table.

the second time was just a few months after, and you were still wearing your cap, gown, and stole from your graduation ceremony. by then, you had been able to forgive the doctors and had graduated in the top 10% of your class. four years of hell had finally rewarded you with a degree in instrumental performance and an internship at the south florida symphony orchestra.

now, the third time, you have a picnic blanket and lunch packed into the backseat of logan's car, the windows are rolled down, and your favorite playlist is shuffled on the aux. it's a beautiful day, too; it isn't too hot (even with the humidity,) there's a gentle breeze in the air, and clouds occasionally cover the sun. when logan pulls into the parking lot of the cemetery and you sling your tote bag full of food over your shoulder, your hands start shaking.

of course, logan notices.

his hand slides into your own, and you look up at him. his eyes meet yours and you smile. "thank you for coming with me," you say.

"of course. i didn't want you to have to do this alone."

you look back at the gate into the cemetery, the black bars menacingly sleek and very, very terrifying. you chew your lower lip in anxiety. "i don't know if i can do it, logan."

"i'm here with you. i know you. you're strong. you aren't the kind of person to let a gate scare you." you laugh lightly, looking down at the ground. the gravel of the parking lot, your scuffed, beat-up high top purple converse, and logan's nike dunks make up what you have to describe as a perfect picture. your phone is in your free hand before you know it, and you're lining up the shot. "still into photography, huh?"

"yep. i have some cameras in my suitcase at the hotel." when you pocket your phone and look back up at him, logan's heart melts. the shine in your eyes and the passion in your smile is enough to soften anyone's heart, but for him, as someone who's known you for years and has been there for you through thick and thin, it touches him in such a special way. "i'm hoping to get some good photos of the races. but enough delaying. let's go visit my dad."

the creak of the gates opening makes your ears bleed, and you laugh at how logan is making the exact same face as you in reaction to such a shrill sound. despite only having visited his headstone twice before, you remember exactly where in the cemetery it is and are able to find it within five minutes.

"hi, dad," you begin, your voice already wavering just the slightest and tears beginning to well in your eyes. logan's hand squeezes yours, though, and you're reminded that he's right there. he always will be. you take a deep breath and continue. "i miss you. we all do. i know i haven't visited you in a while, and i'm sorry about that. i really do have to come stop by every now and then. i moved to austin and have a volunteering gig with the austin philharmonic at almost every show and i have a job at a company that helps students with learning disabilities learn instruments. it's really fun." you pause to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, your nose beginning to drip. "sam is in his junior year of college, and he's majoring in engineering. he flew the coop, but he still comes home for the summers. he, uh, he actually got in to c.u. boulder, like he always talked about. that kid was always thinking about college, even in middle school.

"i'm actually here with logan, too, if you hadn't noticed. do you, uh, do you want to fill him in on what's going on with you, or should i keep going?"

"whatever you prefer."

"okay, i'm going to keep talking, because i think if i don't, i'm going to completely break down. logan finally signed with williams to drive on their formula 1 team last year, like i always said he would. i'm really proud of him and really regret not telling him that more, and now that i'm saying it out loud i'm promising both you and him that i'll tell him that more often. the race this weekend is actually here, in florida. miami, specifically. it's always a celebrity shit show that no one really wants to see, but it's the main opportunity for the celebrity sponsors to actually go to a race.

"what else has been going on? oh, mom is still a therapist. i can't tell you much about that because of hipaa, but she always comes home saying that she's glad that she could help someone. i'm gonna have dinner with her tomorrow night, and then i'm going back into miami to watch logan's practice sessions."

you pause your rambling, thinking about what there is to say next, but your thought is interrupted by your stomach grumbling. loud. you and logan laugh just as loudly, the sound echoing through the grass field and stone gravesites. "oh, yeah, that's another thing. we brought lunch. i also got you pink tulips, because i know they're your favorite." you delicately rest the bouquet on your father's headstone as you sit down, then pull out the different plastic containers filled with food you'd stolen from the williams hospitality. "you'd be proud of me, dad. i smuggled this entire picnic out of the wiliams motorhome without a hiccup. robin hood style."

logan laughs, and you turn to him. he's mirrored your position, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "apple?"

"nah, i'm gonna start with my sandwich. i did grab you some of the salt and vinegar chips i know you like."

the look logan gives you can only be described as pure adoration. "you," he says, pointing a finger at you in an incredibly sassy manner, "are an absolute goddess."

"i know," you respond cheekily, tossing some hair over your shoulder.

the banter between the two of you continues through your picnic, laughter and smiles erasing the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks and on logan's. you're almost able to forget where you are.

tell me i'm despicable

almost two hours later, the two of you are laying in a nearby park underneath a tree, peacefully observing the clouds that pass overhead and talking even more about any topic that comes to your mind. the question that's been gnawing at you since your plane landed in miami eventually bubbles to the surface, and it tumbles past your lips before you can stop it.

"did you ever wonder why i moved to texas?" you look to your left where logan rests, but he keeps looking up at the sky. you mirror him.

"i always assumed it was just because you needed a change of scenery. after everything that happened and your music career taking off, it would make sense that you would relocate to somewhere better suited for you."

"that's the thing, though. if i'm being entirely honest with you, lo, i hate texas. i hate the whole state. i hate how hot it is all the time without even being humid, i hate not being able to go to the beach. i hate how dry it is. i hate how flat it is. i hate the monotony of it. i hate not being here."

logan hesitates for a moment before speaking, and it's the longest moment you've ever experienced. "why did you move to austin, then?"

when he looks over at you, you're chewing your lower lip. it's a nervous tic, logan's noticed. he's not even sure if you know you do it. "honestly? i thought you moved on from our friendship. i thought everything with f1 suddenly got so big and important and famous that maybe i wasn't... enough? i thought that being a police officer's daughter from the same town as you that was studying to teach people how to understand and play music maybe just wasn't cool enough to be friends with a world-renowned formula 1 driver."

logan's heart almost shatters when he hears the weakness in your voice. you sound so broken and so alone. he knew that, when you lost your father, you isolated yourself from a lot of people, even your best friend from high school and through your first year of college. he was the only person outside of your immediate family that you spent a decent amount of time with, but when he was admitted to the driver's academy he had to move to england. he abandoned you.

"i didn't. i never forgot about you. sometimes i still look through the photos we have together because i miss you that much."

you sit up, tears pricking your eyes for the second time that day. "really?"

"yeah. maybe once a week?"

when you look down at logan, you're suddenly starstruck. you can't help but notice all of his little features that you wouldn't see if you didn't know to look for them. his freckles that are so light you'd have to squint to see them if you didn't know them like the back of your hand. the mole on his chin that he'd always been self-conscious about but you've always seen it as beautiful. the lines from where his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the annoyingly perfect flop of his hair that he's styled almost the exact same way since you started high school together. an urge you haven't felt in years suddenly bubbles, white-hot in the pit of your stomach, and it's boiling over before you can stop it. your eyes are closed and your lips are on his. finally. after years of wanting, of stares that lasted just a bit too long to be just friendly, of flushed faces and nervous excuses, you're finally kissing him.

but he's not kissing you back.

you pull back immediately, panicked that you read something wrong. you turn away, hiding your face in your hands out of shame. "shit, logan, i'm so sorry. i thought-"

"kiss me again." logan sits up, and when you turn around, the look he's giving you can only be described as completely and entirely fucked. you don't question his statement, just lean forward, placing your lips on his, and letting yourself melt. he moans softly into the kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. when you pull away and open your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. he looks beautiful. his eyes remain closed, but when they flutter open, you see colors in them that you've never seen before. sure, you've always seen the darker rim of blue that outlines his irises, but now that you're so close to him, you can see the flecks of green and grey in them. it's the most stunning thing you've ever seen.

eventually, you break the silence between the two of you. "i've wanted to kiss you for so long," you whisper, so quiet you're not sure logan heard it.

but he did.

"me, too," he says, and after a beat of silence between you two, you both burst out laughing. the laugh he hears from you is the pure, bright laugh that logan's missed so dearly, the laugh that you only really let him hear. the laugh that has tears in your eyes and makes you snort because you're laughing so hard you can't even breathe properly.

eventually, when you're able to calm down, your head resting on logan's shoulder, your hand holding his, you're able to process what just happened. you just hope logan is processing it, too.

"we just kissed."

"yes. we did."

"how long have you held out on me?"

"since christmas of sophomore year. when you made me the chevron bracelet with my favorite colors."

you laugh, then lift your head to look at him. "i fell for you in october of that year. when you convinced your mom to drive two and a half hours for the marching band state finals. just so you could be there with me."

"god, we're idiots," logan laughs. you can't help but lean forward and press another kiss to his lips, lingering there and just breathing him in.

existing.

say it's unforgivable

the next two days fly by. thursday, you spend the day with your mother. she asks all sorts of questions as if she doesn't know the answers, and you answer each one with a smile on your face. when she asks about logan, you smile sheepishly. she figures out what the smile means.

"took you two long enough."

normally you'd still be in bed at 9:30 am on a friday, but today, you walk into the miami paddock clutching logan's hand for dear life. your neon green pass hangs from your neck, a white williams cap atop your head. you can't help but feel out of place, but someone calls logan's name and you both turn. your stomach drops when you see who's called his name. his hair is styled similarly to logan's, and he sports a papaya polo.

you'd know him anywhere. it's oscar piastri.

you're standing there a bit awkwardly as logan greets his friend, but your heart stops when oscar turns to you. "oscar, this is my girlfriend." he introduces you by your name to the mclaren driver and you wipe your hands on your denim shorts before shaking his hand firmly, exchanging "nice to meet you"s. the three of you chat for a few minutes before oscar is summoned by his pr manager.

"girlfriend, huh?" you look up at logan with a smile on your face, lacing his fingers with yours.

"i didn't mean to overstep, but i kind of assumed that's what this is now. is it?" he looks a bit nervous asking that, and if you thought your love for him couldn't grow any more, you thought wrong.

"that's absolutely what we are, lo. you're my boyfriend. i'm your girlfriend." you can tell just how hard logan's trying to not let the smile on his face show just how happy he is to hear you say that, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips briefly. "you have a prep meeting to get to, don't you?"

"i do. come with me, though. i need to introduce you to alex and lily. she can show you around."

"sounds like a plan. i need to learn how to do all of..." you gesture around you, the white tents and media carts all seeming suddenly too intimidating. "...this."

logan laughs, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the williams hospitality. when you're next to him, though, despite the cameras around you and your proximity to some of the world's biggest stars, you feel safe and protected.

after meeting logan's teammate and the thai driver's girlfriend, who you quickly realize is one of the sweetest people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, you're shown around the williams hospitality and, eventually, the paddock. lily introduces you to the other drivers' wives and girlfriends that have made it to the weekend, and when you hear a certain last name, your ears perk up.

"martinez? is she latina?"

"yeah," kika, pierre's girlfriend, says. "she's checo's wife. i'm pretty sure she's in the red bull hospitality right now, though."

"ah, speak of the devil," lily says. you see carola walking up to the five of you, alexandra ("please, honey, call me alex," she'd said, bringing you in for a kiss on your cheek,) having walked away to get a drink and escape into the sweet air conditioning. "carola, there's a new couple on the paddock."

"you're kidding," the latina answers, her accent apparent. "who?"

"logan found himself a girlfriend. allow me to introduce her." lily turns to you and introduces you by your full name, last name and all. it seems that carola has a similar reaction to your last name as you did to hers, and her head tilts to the side.

"ya no eres la única mexicana aquí," you say, and her eyebrows raise. (you aren't the only mexican here anymore.)

"hablas español, también?" (you speak spanish, too?) when you nod, her smile brightens. "hay, chica, creo que nosotras dos nos vamos a llevar muy bien." (oh, girl, i think we're going to get along very well.)

on saturday, you find yourself back in the williams motorhome, except this time, you wear a second badge, the neon green lanyard reading grid access in bold black lettering. like the day before, you clutch logan's hand for your own comfort until, much to your dismay, he's summoned for driver duties. you place a quick kiss on his cheek, and when you pull back, you aren't sure if the flush on his cheeks is from the affection or the miami heat. probably both.

"in case i don't see you before sprint. for luck."

"oh, you'll be in the garage. that's what this pass is for," logan says, holding your second badge in front of your face. "lily will show you where to go. i'll take a kiss anyways, though." you smile, stand on your toes, and kiss him, pulling back before he can wrap an arm around your waist. (that was a trick he very much enjoyed, as you'd learned the night before. there was something in him that needed you as close to him as possible, and it covered every nerve ending in your body in liquid fire.)

"off you go. you need to get race ready. i'll see you before you go out on the grid. don't worry." you gently shove him away with a smile, and you'd stare at him longer if your ankles weren't suddenly being attacked. you look down and squeal. "hi, leo! did your dad let you run free?" you squat down and scratch the mini daschund behind his disproportionally large ears, and he barks excitedly.

someone curses in french to your right, and you look up from the little golden ball of energy to see none other than charles leclerc frantically searching around. leo barks again, and the monégasque whips around, then locks eyes on you first, then his dog.

"merde, leo. you have too much energy for it being this early in the morning," he laughs as he walks over to you.

"i apologize, it appears i've unintentionally kidnapped your dog." you stand, and leo jumps at your calves again.

"ah, no harm, no foul," charles replies, picking up his dog and holding him close to his chest. "i will say, though, you look strangely familiar. have we met? my name is charles."

"we have not." you extend your hand and offer your name, and, when charles' eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion, you realize that means nothing to him. "i'm logan's girlfriend."

"ah! yes, of course! he has a photo of the two of you at your high school graduation in his wallet. that's where i knew you from. well, it's nice to meet you!" that was news to you. logan has a picture of you in his wallet? either way, you just casually met one of the most famous people in the world like it was a standard tuesday.

if this is what i signed up for by being logan's girlfriend, then it is absolutely wild.

you're able to catch another good luck kiss with logan as he's almost fully suited up, and fuck, does he look good. his fireproof suit hangs low on his hips, the arms tied together in front of him. dark blue is a good color on him, and his facial hair is grown out in just the slightest. you can't lie, he looks hot as hell.

you cross your legs in an attempt to curb the heat that creeps down your tummy and between them. it doesn't work.

you amend it that night in logan's hotel room following his p10 in the sprint.

on sunday, you try to avoid thinking about the night before as you follow the same routine as the two days before- arriving early in the day, checking in at the williams motorhome, and then killing time until the driver's parade at 2:00 PM. you spend time with your new group of friends, spending the three remaining hours before the parade in the paddock club. rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, snickers at your shocked face when you see some of your idols and favorite celebrities casually walking around, gladly taking some photos for you as you're practically buzzing with excitement.

after the driver's parade, it's a whirlwind. you're swept back into the williams garage and find logan's driver's room relatively easily thanks to the help of some of the engineers and mechanics, but one of them stops you before you can venture too far into the depths of the hallways.

"could you tell him we have the pre-race strategy meeting in twenty minutes?"

"yeah, for sure." as you approach logan's door, you have to bite down on your lower lip to stifle the grin that wants to split your face. you knock on his door, and when he opens it, you know something's wrong. "lo, are you okay?" his eyes are red and his hand shakes on the doorknob. instead of a verbal response, he just opens the door a bit further to let you in, and, as soon as it shuts behind you, he sobs, and your heart shatters.

"i'm so scared. i'm so scared that something's going to happen and i'm going to let all of these people down and-" you gather him into your arms and he cries into the crook of your neck, your williams crewneck shirt now damp with his tears. you couldn't care less.

"you're going to do amazing, logie. i know you will." with your arms wrapped around him, it's almost like a weighted blanket of safety has encompassed him, and his sobs slow, his breaths growing deeper and more even. you continue murmuring words of confidence into his shoulder, and not a single word you say is empty.

"hey. look at me." you lean back and gently cup his cheek with your right palm, and when his eyes meet yours, you know that he needed to cry that one out. "do you feel a little bit better?" logan nods, tilting his head ever so slightly to kiss your palm, his own hand coming up to rest over yours. it's a cute, sappy, stupidly romantic moment that you from three weeks ago would've probably thought was the grossest thing known to mankind, but you can't help but bask in the moment. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better right now?" your voice is a soothing balm over logan's agitated nerves, and he slowly untangles himself from you and guides you over to the couch that's against the back wall, where he sits down and you curl up to his left side.

"can you just... talk? about anything?"

"are you seriously asking if me, the person with the most rampant adhd you've ever met, can talk about something? yes, logan, i absolutely can. what to talk about, though?"

as you talk, deciding to info dump about your favorite classical music piece, logan can't help but watch it unfold. he doesn't know jack shit about music theory, but listening to you ramble about something you're passionate about brings him so much peace. you're disturbed about fifteen minutes later by a knock at the door, promptly followed by a disembodied voice telling logan that it was time for the strategy meeting.

"aw, shit," he says, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes. "i have that to go to now."

"yeah, sorry. i was supposed to tell you about that but we had a bigger problem on our hands." your voice is sheepish now that your info dump has been cut short, but logan leans over to you and kisses you, soft and slow, just like the first time he kissed you properly in the park. when he pulls away, he looks so much calmer than he was twenty minutes before. "is there anything else i can do?"

"go have some fun in the paddock. and please drink some water." you roll your eyes and stand, bringing him in for another hug before you slip out of the door.

almost two hours later, you're back in the williams garage with a guest headset over your ears. your stomach twists with nerves as the national anthem concludes. lily's hand is clasped with yours.

"the first lap is the worst. after that, you lose a lot of the anxiety," she assures you, noticing how you chew your lower lip.

"thanks." you pause for a moment, contemplating another question. "does it ever get easier? seeing how they go out there and drive like absolute maniacs for fun?"

"it does. it took me a couple of months, but after alex showed me all of the safety features in the car and in his fireproofs, it definitely helped."

it's the moment you've been dreading.

one red light.

two.

three.

four.

five.

and then none.

the engines roar and the race has begun. lily didn't lie to you- the first lap is excruciatingly long, but when everyone's completed their first loop around the circuit, you let yourself breathe. your eyes are trained on the screen above you, and the laps are flying by so quickly that you barely process that the race is nearly halfway over.

but then logan's car is in the wall. fuck.

as you watch the replay of his crash, you can feel white-hot rage burning in your body. after the race stewards only declare a ten-second penalty and two super license points, though, you're fuming. "two penalty points and a ten-second penalty? magnussen caused logan's race to end, and they just let him go? they just forgive him and move on? how can he get away with that? this is bullshit!"

what a crash, what a rush

the first person logan looks for when he walks back into the williams garage, his visor still low over his eyes in shame, is you. when you see him walking towards the room where you and lily watch the race, you tear the headset off of your ears and run to him. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and hearing his heartbeat even through your musician's earplugs soothes your agitated nerves. he's okay. he's alive. he isn't hurt. "thank fuck you're okay," you say, even though he definitely can't hear you through his helmet and over the roar of passing engines. when you pull away, you press a kiss to his knuckles and hope he understands how much love you're trying to convey through such a small gesture.

fuck me up, florida!

one of logan's best friends on the grid is oscar. oscar's teammate got his maiden win after almost five years of waiting in miami.

like any sensible person, you celebrate with him.

you have no idea what the name of the club is, much less how many drinks you've had so far, but what you do know is that lando has commandeered the dj station and logan is pressed against your back, his hands resting on your hips. the air is hot and thick, your heartbeat pounds in your head. the opening notes of bad bunny's tití me preguntó begin playing through the massive speakers, and you shoot a glare up to lando that he doesn't see, his focus instead on the equipment in front of him. when the bass hits, though, you let all apprehensiveness go and your genetics take the reins. your hips sway and swing to the beat, your hands wander up and down your torso, and logan simply follows your lead. it takes you a moment to realize that, if you want to get a rise out of him, you're going to have to spin around and face him.

with your hips swaying against his and how unbearably beautiful you look in the dim light, your skin glowing with sweat and your hair up in a high ponytail, logan can't help but lean down and kiss you when you finally turn around. you reciprocate gladly, your right leg slotting between both of his, and...

oh.

oh.

he's hard.

you pull away slightly, barely an inch between your lips. "slow your roll there, tiger."

"i don't want to." fire zips down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and breathy and so, so desperate. "need to fuck you."

"should we get outta here, then?"

"i thought you'd never ask." you smile and kiss him quickly, then take his hand and weave your way through the crowded dance floor. as the miami night air hits your face, you immediately feel cooler. you sigh, taking a moment to breathe and regulate your heart rate and body temperature, but you can't breathe for that long before logan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him and kissing your neck. you laugh, running your hands along his forearms.

"logan, not here. the hotel is two blocks away."

"i can't help it, baby, you just look so pretty," he hums, kissing the back of your neck once more before pulling away and stepping around to face you. "you look so pretty, and you're mine."

his possessiveness of you makes more heat zip down your spine, and you almost drool at how he's looking at you. his eyes, normally a beautiful mix between the blues of the sky and sea, ar"e almost completely dark, only a small sliver of his irises remaining, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "hotel. now."

by the time you reach the door to logan's hotel room, you're both out of breath from how hard he kissed you in the elevator and the arousal and need between your legs won't be stopped unless he replaces it. you stumble through the door and try to kiss logan again, matching the vigor he showed you in the elevator, but he stops you. "wanna take my time with you tonight."

"yeah?" you raise an eyebrow and inspect his face. the blinds are open but no lights are on, so all you can see is the side of his face that's illuminated by the lights from the streets of miami. it's an unusually beautiful sight.

"yeah. nothing about what i'm about to do to you is going to be fast. i'm gonna make you feel good tonight. how's that sound?"

"that sounds amazing, logan." you lean forward and kiss him gently, your lips slotting together as if you were made for each other. who knows, maybe you were. the next five minutes are a blur, but before you know it, you're laying back against the pillows on logan's bed and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue working magic on your clit. the air in the hotel room is filled with your moans and the sounds of logan devouring you like a man starved, and it's the most beautiful mix of sounds you've ever heard. when he flicks his tongue oh-so-perfectly against your entrance, his nose brushing over your clit, you moan and pull his hair hard, which, in turn, makes him moan against you.

you aren't sure how much time passes or how many orgasms logan pulls from you with just his tongue and his fingers, but when you feel completely and entirely spent, your chest heaving and your hairline sparkling with tiny beads of sweat, you pull logan up to you by his shoulders, and he looks completely and entirely fucked. "need you inside of me," you mumble, wiping at the mix of spit and cum that coats the entire bottom half of his face with your thumbs. as if on instinct, you bring your hands to your mouth and lick them clean, and logan groans at the sight. "inside. now."

"as you wish, baby." logan's hands fumble at his boxers, the only item of clothing he was left wearing, and when he finally, finally pushes himself into you, you both moan. your hands scrabble at his shoulders and back, most definitely leaving red marks that will raise later, and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down and then gently kissing over the red spot.

"nngh, lo-" your brain is short circuiting, logan's cock filling you up so perfectly and absolutely ruining you for any other man ever.

"yeah? you okay, baby?" he pulls back from your neck and scans your face for any sign of discomfort of pain, his sky blue eyes searching your own. the feeling of safety you get from just that one action is almost enough to make you sob from how good you feel because of him, both physically and emotionally.

"feels so good, lo. j'st... move, please."

"you sure? i don't wanna hurt you."

"positive. now please." you reach a hand up and pull him down towards you by the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard. "fuck me properly." without wasting a second, logan reaches a hand down and hooks it under your left thigh, bringing your leg up to rest around his waist, then pulling back and thrusting back in fast. the moan that rips itself from your throat is sinful, and your breath is being punched from your lungs at the downright brutal pace logan's setting. your right leg finds itself locking around his waist, only bringing him infinitely closer, and now, each time he thrusts back into you, your clit bumps against his pelvis. within minutes, you're embarrassingly close to cumming again, and through your garbled mumbling and clawing at his shoulders, he understands, reaching his right hand down to gently press against your clit.

"cum for me, baby, please, need to feel you cum for me just one more time, just let go, i've got you." it's logan's voice that ultimately sends you pummelling over the edge into an orgasm that makes your back arch and your vision fuzz at the edges, and you cum with a cry of his name. his hips slow and his fingers maintain a steady rhythm on your clit, but you can tell it's taking its toll on him. "where- where do you want me to cum?"

"i'm on the pill, lo. inside, baby, please," you whine, and it takes two more thrusts before logan groans, his hips coming to a shuddering halt as he cums inside of you. it's a beautiful sight, too- his eyes scrunched closed and his eyebrows drawn together, his hair a complete mess from where your hands had pulled at it. your hands run through his hair and along his back, and you patiently wait as he comes back to earth.

"hi," he murmurs, opening his eyes and smiling down at you.

"hi," you respond.

no other words need to be said. you know you love him, and he knows he loves you.

and you're both okay with that.

this took me way longer to write than i thought it would, but i absolutely love it! reminder that my asks and requests are open, and i always get excited when i get feedback! take care of urselves lovies <3

[justcallmesakira]

HIII OMG I haven’t had a good laugh in a while until i came across your fyodor’s sis dating dazai hcs IT GOT ME ROLLING ON THE FLOOR 😭 can i request for dazai’s sister dating fyodor if you’re up for it? fluff crack make it silly if you want i’ll enjoy anything from you for sure!!

"Dazai with a sister dating Fyodor!"

Sypnosis: Uh oh! Looks like Dazais one and only sister he grew up with is dating a rat who the entirety of yokohama is after!

Genre: crack, suggestive? (idk sth is wrong with me)

Warning: More blasting, bombing, terrorrist, rizz,

A/N: AHHH I AM SO HAPPY U ENJOYED IT- AND I AM MORE THEN HAPPY BCS I MADE YOU LAUGH !!! >.<

nahhh like brother like sister :/

NO BCS i feel like fyodor just wanted to temper dazai by using his ugly breedable charms on you

But it backfired terribly! (like his posture)

Though you were his one and oNlY eNeMyS blood relative he just couldnt help but flirt with you and perhaps ykyk do those romantic stuff ppl do

This is so ooc rn ;skull emoji 69x;

However you were extremly LIKE extremly careful to not let your brother know

You literly sneaked off the house as if you were sneaking inthe kitchen to cook a whole buffet at 3am!!

Except you were sneaking off to EAT a whole buffet😏😏

Even the rat himself helped you to sneak to his rusty ahh apartment

Wow! The first thing he actually did for others!!!!!

Honestly dazai would be chill though-

Like oh his sister is dating someone? welp sure! i have exes all around the city hope its not one of them though hehe...HeHe

FUCKING SLU--

You took the risk of rizzing fyodor up infront of him though like:

"I am crime, I am punishment" you: "I know something else you can punish :3"

Dazai woke back from the dead with em bones fish eye when u said that

AYYY DAZAI IN HIS MELANIE MARTINEZ "PORTALS" ERA!!!!1😍

When he find out though.....oh god hes going to give you that light skin stare, with his eyes turning into nothing but a pitch black void

like my soul-- OKAY THIS IS THE LAST ONE I PROMISE--

One day you met up with fyodor and you were so excited that you nearly threw his anemic ass to the ground

"Yaaaah fedya,!! we finally met! dont give me that face do u know how hard it is to come and meet you when my lazy ahh brother puts trackers on me!" "Malyshka, please calm down---''

All of a sudden u could hear shuffling which instantly cautions the both of you only for your eyes to be meeted with your brothers eye turning into nothing but pitch black like the face he gave when he saw mori

your getting grounded <3

"Out of all people...out of 8 billion people, sister😀" "I-i-i-i i can explain"

he then looked at fyodor with the ugliest angry face ever "YOU FUCKING RAT HOW DARE YOU WOO MY SISTER WITH FEHUYOUR UGFLY AHH RATUTILLIE NO RIZZ MANIUPULATION I AM GONNA BLAST YO-"

damn.. dazai become eminem

the shift mood between to u then to fyodor was so funny

LIKE YALL SAW THE ADVICE FYODOR GAVE TO DAZAI IN THEIR CELLS? THATS A BIT--- UM YANDERE??????!!

"BROTHER CALM DOWN I WAS NOT MANIUPULATED TF-" "THAT WONT STOP ME FROM MY MANSLAUGHTER ARC" "WHAT?--"

#siblinggoalsfr

fyodor honestly only glared at him with a smile that said "If they annoy you, go for their sibling"

dazai YANKED Your arm taking you back to you apartment and just stared at you as if you got a B in maths

uh oh...

So YEAH after hours of not being able to calm him down he finally accepted!

Dazai gifted fyodor a dead rat in a helicopter after he accepted you guys😍😍😍

No bcz i think u and nikolai would have matching energy--

Nikolai: "Dos-kun bites his nails!" You: "Real except he bites my neck!"

one day ranpo jolted up from his seat with fisheye and slowly turned to you as if you ate his (dead)mother

"Dazai Y/N, you did not..." "Oh yes yes i just did :3"

everybody was so confused like did you steal his snacks or sth???

"like brother like sister i guess...." -ranpo after finding out his bestie is doing unholy things to his enemy

JKJK-

Dazai acted so overdramatic omg- ugh hes so babygirl

"I still cant believe it... MY OWN SISTER DATING-DAT-DATING A STINKY RAT! Wait- WHAT IF YOU GET MARRIED???????!!!!! WILL YOUR NAME BE D-D-D-DOS-DOE RATVESKY?? sis you better let him take your name WAIT NO I WILL NOT SHARE MY NAME WITH HIM UGFYDUTYFE"

dramatic gossip girlie fr

like its literly like

"I took your victory😈" "I took your sisters viriginty😈😈😈"

i am so sorry-WAHHHHHHHHHH- *gets shot in the head by reader for being so dirty*

during gatherings, they just smile at each other protesting in their minds who can take care of u better while your in a chair rollin around and going :3

kuro kuro kuro kuroooo kuro kuro kuro kuro ding luro kuro ding~

until your silly ahh falls! :D

And its just a second of time to see who can cath you first-

Dazais going to turn your wedding into an arson commitment!

"Breaking news!, Depressed man who half the fandom slanders burns down his sisters wdding venue with soy sauce!"

Well... its a funky ride! but hey its fyodor

A/N: i know its short but i tried okay- ENJOY!! i love doing crack if i cant laugh or be happy i will make others happy!! <33

Divider crds: @nikolaismasquerade

tags! @silverbladexyz @riiwrites @chuuyasboner @heartsfourdazai @atlasnessie @atsquie @tojifile @biscuits-lovely-corner @darling--angst

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Clementine Kisses

Chapter Seven of the Through the Scope Series | Chapter Eight

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.8K

Chapter Overview: You wake up in a strange bedroom and investigate

TW: smut !! oral (f receiving), f in v, p in v, depictions of breasts but without their size

Notes: now i know this isnt a gif of frankie, but i am the law of the land and i want to use it. okay LMAO we finally made it to the smut hehe i mean i feel like yall knew this was coming tbh,, i havent written it in a while so i might be a bit rusty, but im still pleased with how it turned out. its just so much fun to write. as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3 (oh and listen to lemon boy by cavetown bc it was on repeat while i wrote this chapter)

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Your head is spinning, but your body is so comfortable. When did your shitty mattress get this soft? Without even having to open your eyes you can tell that the sun is up. You must have forgotten to close the blinds when you got home last night. Wait a second…you don’t remember coming home. Still choosing to keep your eyes shut for fear of seeing a stranger next to you in bed, you hoist the covers up and over your head. Maybe if you just pretend you didn’t do anything stupid last night it will become a reality. 

You inhale deeply, slightly wincing at the throbbing in your head, and your eyes pop open. It may be pitch black under the sheets, but you are starting to see things more clearly. You know this smell. It’s a smell that has haunted the deepest corners of your mind since you first encountered it. Since you first encountered him. It’s musky, but not in a dirty way. It fills your nose and soothes the anxiety you felt creeping its way into your belly. You breathe in deeply again. There were subtle hits of…tire rubber? Well he works in an auto body shop so that checks out.

You decide to hold your breath to see if you can hear anyone breathing softly beside you. A few seconds go by with the only sound being the steady beat of your heart. Hoping that you correctly assumed that you’re alone, you peel back the covers to reveal a foreign sun lit room. You look beside you and breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the right side of the bed has been left undisturbed. As much as you wanted to have sex with him, that was definitely something you wanted to remember. Using your elbows as support, you scoot your body into a sitting position and lean your back against his headboard. Looking at the nightstand beside the bed, you see three things: a glass full of water, two tylenol pills, and a small slip of paper. Without thinking twice you pop the painkillers in your mouth and chase them down with the now room temperature water. Nothing has ever tasted so refreshing. You trade the empty glass for the piece of paper. Aloud you read what it says.

You fell asleep in the truck. I’ll explain everything in the morning. On the couch if you need me. -Frankie

He had drawn a little smiley face next to his name. You laugh quietly to yourself as you set the note back down on the small table. Looking down you see your shoes neatly placed in front of it. There is a shirt you don’t recognize folded and carefully placed on top of them. You reach down and unfold it in your lap. 

“Hmm.” You run your fingers over the faded design on the front of it. “Fleetwood Mac. You have good taste in music, Frankie.” 

After giving the room one final once over to make sure no one is inside you shimmy out of yesterday's shirt and bra and dawn the one left out for you. Then you throw the rest of the covers back, climb out of bed, and take off your jeans. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t have any shorts for you. His shirt comes to rest a few inches above your knees as you start quietly tiptoeing around his room. You know snooping is wrong, but you just can’t help yourself. Your still socked feet guide you over to a thin, vertical bookshelf that sits directly in front of the side of the bed that you slept on. Dust has started to collect on the shelves and the books themselves. You run your fingers across the spines of them until you see one that peaks your interest. 

“What do we have here, Frankie? A Helicopter flying handbook?” 

You slide the heavy duty book from its seemingly perpetual resting place and crack it open. A lot of the pages are dog-eared and highlighted to high heaven. You close it and set it back where you found it. As you look closer you see that the majority of the books he has relate to helicopters, aviation, and the mechanics of flying aircrafts. A pang of sadness and realization shoots through you as you realize that you know so little about him. You know so little about what he did when he was on missions, fuck, you didn’t even know that he knew how to fly. But you want to. You want to know everything there is to know about him whether it be big or small or beautiful or ugly.

Moving over to his dresser, curiosity building, you see a group photo. You pick it up and you mentally name Frankie, Santi, Will, Benny, and who’s that? A gruff looking man smiles and has his arm around your coworker. He appears older than the other men he’s standing with. You’ve never met him or even heard the guys talk about him before. Right as your mind starts to pick apart who the fifth man in the photo could be, the sun reflects off something else on the dresser and catches your eye. You set the photo down and look for the culprit. When you find it, you feel your knees get weak. Sitting on top of a familiar looking post-it note there is a beer bottle cap. You gasp to yourself as you pick it up. This must have been the cap of the beer that he opened for you when you attended the fights with him. You thought you had seen him slip it into his pocket, but you figured that it was just because that was an easier alternative than leaving to throw it away. He saved it as a memento and kept it by your number. Two things that another man would consider trash, he kept and cherished. 

The smell of coffee tickles your nose and you can hear faint clanging coming from the kitchen. You decide that you have been hiding and snooping long enough, so you set the cap down and make your way to the door. The room you were in appears to be on the left side of the hallway. You walk quietly down the hall and notice that the walls are barren. The noises get louder as you close the space between yourself and the kitchen. His house’s layout makes you walk through the living room, which has the front door, before you reach the kitchen. There’s no door when you approach so you’re able to see Frankie engrossed in his task. Well, his back to be more precise. He has on a tired looking t-shirt and some boxers. One side of his hair is sticking up in a way that causes you to stifle a laugh. For a man that slept on the couch last night, he seems to be quite chipper. His low humming only makes that fact more apparent. You get comfortable by leaning against the shared living room and kitchen wall, but it’s short lived. The man in front of you turns around and bursts both of y’alls bubbles of ignorant bliss. 

“Oh!” He’s holding a mug in each hand. “Good morning! Or I guess it’s technically the afternoon now.”

“Good morning to you too.” You follow him when he beckons you to join him at the kitchen table. “So…do I want to know how I ended up here?” 

Frankie watches as you sit down across from him at the table in his shirt. If he’s being honest it makes his cock twitch to see you like this. He is in awe at how beautiful you look after waking up. Sure, your hair is wilder and your mascara is smudged, but fuck if you aren’t a breath of fresh air. He finds himself getting irrationally jealous that his bed was the one that got to hold you while you slept. He wanted to wake up to that face in the morning. Every morning.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He slides a mug over to you and scratches the back of his head.

“If waking up in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and then being greeted by a cup of coffee is bad, then I don’t ever want to end up in a good looking situation again.” 

His shoulders relax when you say this, as if he was anxiously waiting to see how you would react to the situation. “Well, Pope and I tried to drop you off at your apartment, but you didn’t have your house keys in your tote. So, this was the next best option.”

“Oh my God! I knew it seemed lighter than usual when I left the gym! Damn, Benny for rushing me last night.” 

“Your bag is over on the entryway table if you want it. It’s got your phone.”

“No, I’m alright.” You say before sipping your drink. “I’m in good company.” 

He looks at you bashfully before indulging in his own cup of coffee. You take the cozy silence as an opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s oddly reminiscent of yours. No art, no decorations. Save for a small basket of fruit on his counter. The only room that has given you a glimpse into his mind has been his room. 

“Did you,” He follows your eyes. “Did you want an orange? I can never get around to eating them in time and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

“How about we share one? I’ve never been very hungry when I first wake up, but I’ll make an exception.” 

He stands just enough to give himself the extra length to reach the fruit. You take it from him when he offers it and start peeling. When you finish, you split it in half and offer one side to him. 

“I told you that you enjoy taking care of people last night.” You eat one of your citrus slices. 

He tries to look nonchalant as he mirrors your actions. “Maybe there is some sense to all that star stuff you like. Tal vez eres una estrella.”

“And what makes you think I’m a star?” Your stomach feels like it's made of knots. 

“Well…you have this brightness about you.” You can see it in his eyes that he’s struggling with telling you what he's thinking. Not because he doesn’t want to say it, but because he doesn’t know how to. “I seem to see you most often after the sun has already gone down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re there when the sun is still up. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to see you during the day.” 

You breathe in a shaky breath as he presses forward in his explanation. 

“I find myself getting sucked into your gravitational pull whenever I’m around you.” 

Both of you have unconsciously started to lean towards each other.

“And you’re…”

“I’m what, Frankie?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” It comes out shakier than you intend.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your reaction to his confession. “I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you and every moment after, mi estrella.” 

“My star.” You repeat what he just called you in spanish. You have to do something to distract from the intense feeling of bawling that suddenly consumes you. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He stands up and cups your face in his hands.

“Say you mean it.” You say looking at him.

His deep pools of chestnut trace your face as he stares back at you. “I mean it, mi estrella. Every syllable.”

You stand, his hands still in place, and kiss him. You finally kiss him. There is no way that you could have waited any longer. His lips mold with yours hungrily. As he opens his mouth to you, you can taste coffee and sweet oranges. You can’t help but moan into him when he slides his hands down your body to cup your ass and pull you tight against him. His teeth catch your bottom lip and pull on it gently. He groans when your own hands snake their way up his chest and wrap around his neck. You intertwine your fingers in his thick curls, grateful that you now have unbridled access to them without his cap.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His chest heaves against your body and you can feel him hardening against your bare leg.

You open your mouth for him again and tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth and you eagerly let him. The sounds he’s making while he palms your ass are sinful. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of the sounds he will make while he fucks you. He scoops you off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you down on the table. The cool wood sends a shiver through your body that makes him smile against your lips. 

“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom.” He sounds like he's in pain. 

“That makes two of us.” You gasp as he starts to work his way down your neck.

Desperate to quell the growing ache in between your legs you grind your core against him and feel him shutter.

“You want this just as badly as I do, huh?” His breath is hot against your skin.

“I want it so bad.” You bring his face back up to yours and sloppily kiss him. “It’s all I can think about.”

His hand answers your prayers when he starts to rub circles on you through your underwear. He swallows your wanton cries with his mouth. You feel him laugh against you and you already know the cause of it.

“You’re so wet for me and I’ve barely laid a finger on you, cariño. How is that?”

He slides your underwear to the side and easily slides in a finger. You have to lay your head on his shoulder as he curves it up inside you and hits that sweet spot.

“I would have-” Your breath is stolen for a moment when one finger hastily becomes two. “I would have let you do this to me at the bar. Would have let you make me come with your fingers while everyone sat around us.” 

“Fuck.” He whines into your hair. “You’re so filthy. Not caring who’s around or who could see what I’m doing to this sweet pussy.” He removes his fingers from inside of you and you whimper at the loss. You watch, mystified, as he places them in his mouth and licks each one clean with greed. “Lay back for me. I need to taste the real thing.”

His eyes are glazed over with lust right now. The ache in between your legs is so painful and you are desperate for reprieve. You immediately do as he asks and lay your back down on the kitchen table. You take the liberty of lifting your shirt up and exposing your breasts to him. The way he is looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. His eyes wash over your body and you can’t help but squirm underneath his gaze. He leans down and takes one of them in his mouth while he forcefully cups the other. Your back arches when he catches your nipple between his teeth. Never one to neglect, he works his mouth to the other one before he trails his lips agonizingly slow down your body. He peppers kisses right above the start of your underwear and you can’t help but buck your hips up towards him. 

“Patience is a virtue.” He chides looking up at you through hooded lids.

“Please, Frankie.” You plead with him. You hope he can see how badly you're hurting. “Please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore.” 

He smiles to himself as he shifts his attention to what's right in front of him. His thumbs hook into the fabric and he slowly starts to pull them down.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

You both freeze and hold your breath to see if the sound was imagined. When its unholy ringing comes again, he rests his forehead on your stomach.

“I’m going to kill them. I’m legitimately going to fucking kill them.” His beard tickles your skin as he speaks. 

“Who-who is it?” You’re trying to catch your breath.

“The guys.” He doesn’t move his head from where he laid it to rest. “They are here to watch the basketball game.”

“Open up, Fish!” Benny yells as he raps on the door. “I know you’re in there, you bastard! Your truck is in the driveway!”

Frankie all but growls as he pulls your underwear back up and helps you sit up straight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Benny’s a dead man. You reluctantly hop off the table as Frankie tells them he will be there in a minute. 

“Why don’t I answer it?” You gesture down to his now very strained shorts. “You can change while I handle them.” 

“Oh fuck me.” He rolls his head back.

“That’s what I was trying to do! Now go, go!” 

You push him towards his room and start to head for the door. Two steps in and you feel a strong hand grab your arm and pull your body back. He captures you in a desperate kiss before he releases you. 

“This isn’t finished.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Frankie.” You wink.

He sends you to the door with a spank and heads into his room. You scurry to let everyone in as another round of banging starts.

“Hey guys! Long time no see.” 

They don’t look the least bit shocked to see you greeting them at the door. Pope must have filled them in about the events of last night on the way over. They all greet you with a tender kiss on the cheek and lug their various bags inside the house. You tell them that Frankie is just finishing changing and that he’ll be out shortly. 

“How’d you sleep last night, hermosa?” Pope sets four cases of beer on the kitchen table. The very sight of it causes heat to rise in your belly again.

“Oh umm good? I slept good!”

“Yeah I guess that would explain why your hair looks like it was caught up in a tornado and you have a crazed look in your eye.” Benny snickers. 

“Consequences of last night's actions at the bar.” You shrug leaning back on the sofa.

“There he is!” Will walks up to Frankie as he enters the room and pulls him in for a hug. 

When they break apart his eyes immediately fall on you which causes the rest of the men to follow suit. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little clothing you have on. 

“Why don’t I put on some pants?” Your cheeks are burning under all the attention and with the knowledge of what almost happened.

“You don’t have too.” Benny offers casually as he lays takeout boxes down on the table. “It’s good practice for when you’re in the ring.” 

“Now I’m definitely going to put on pants.”

You hush the guys as they hoop and holler at you while you head to Frankie’s room in search of yesterday's jeans. If you didn’t know they meant it with love, those would have been the last sounds they uttered.

“She looks mighty relaxed here, Catfish.” Frankie is shocked that Will is the first one to address the elephant in the room. Usually he stays out of silly things like this, but you must be an exception. “Well, except for when Benny decided to poke the hornet's nest with that comment about her hair.” 

“Her hair? What about it?” He looks behind him where you disappeared. “And keep your voices down.”

“Be serious, man.” Pope cracks open a beer. “She looked so frustrated when we walked in. Like she’s a string that’s wound too tight and is this close to snapping.” He emphasizes his point by snapping his own fingers.

“I didn’t think she looked upset.” Benny sounds so confused.

“Not frustrated as in upset, you fuckin’ dolt.” Will looks at his brother with genuine annoyance.

Much to Frankie’s horror he watches in silence as understanding washes over Benny’s face when all the pieces click together in his head.

“Catfish, I’ve never known you to be a man that leaves a woman unsatisfied.” Benny remarks.

“Well that wouldn’t have happened if y’all had come just a little fucking later.” 

“That’s probably my fault.” Pope looks at him sheepishly. “I was anxious to see what unfolded after you dropped me off.” 

Frankie can’t help but chuckle at his friend's excitement. “Nothing ‘unfolded’ after I took you home, hand to God. She was dead to the world when I brought her inside and tucked her in. She didn’t even wake up until 30 minutes before y’all arrived.” 

“Now swear something wasn’t happening while she was awake.” Pope smiles knowing damn well he has Frankie cornered.

“I uhh-”

“Okay I’m presentable looking now.” You walk into the room and immediately notice Will, Santi, and Benny fighting back laughter while Frankie flounders in front of them. “What the fuck have y’all done now?” 

“Just some good ol’ fashion teasin’, hon.” Will waves you over. “You’re going to stay and watch the game with us, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” You start.

“You’re not!” Frankie is quick to say.

“Yeah! We want you to hang with us!” Benny voices enthusiastically.

“All these beers aren’t going to drink themselves.” Pope waves his hand dramatically over the booze. “Plus, your car is still at the gym. It looks like you’re stuck with us.” 

“You got me there. I guess it’s only fair that I listen to y’all talk about basketball since y’all listened to me talk about the stars.” 

“Atta girl!” Will pulls you into a side hug while the rest of the boys cheer, Frankie included. 

***

You watch happily on the couch as the men around you take turns yelling at the television and then at each other. Thankfully, you knew how basketball worked so you were more than capable of keeping up with what was going on. You and Frankie sit right next to each other on the couch the entire time. Throughout the game they would all jump up and cheer when their team made a basket, but the second you sat with your legs crossed and had your knee touching Frankie, he happily realized he could better encourage the players from a sitting position. After the game ends and all the food is eaten, you get questioned about how you usually spend your Sundays off.

“It used to be similar to this. When I was living with Robbie back home,” You laugh when you notice the raised eyebrows from Will, Frankie, Pope.

“Robbie is a girl. Calm down y’all.” Benny explains.

“Anyway, when I was living with Robbie back home, we would pile into one of our beds with wine and snacks to watch shitty reality TV. We definitely had our fair share of times yelling choice words at the screen and contestants.” 

You’re met with immediate disbelief that reality TV could invoke those kinds of emotions. Instead of verbally pleading your case, you take the remove from Frankie and use it to open up Hulu. You find your favorite show and your favorite season and hit play. 

“After a single episode y’all will be eating your words.” 

When it ends Will is too angry to speak, Frankie is asking you ‘why that dude with the buzzed hair choose the girl in the yellow bikini over the girl in the pink bikini?”, Benny is fully convinced he would dominate at the show, and Pope is begging to watch the next episode. Completely surprised they all loved it, you play the next episode and snuggle deeper into the cushions. You rest your arm on the back of the couch and play with the ends of Frankie’s curls. Electricity shoots through you each time you feel his body tremble under your soft touch. You all only realize how late it's gotten by the time the season is halfway over. 

“Shit, I gotta be up early tomorrow to talk to some vets at the VA.” Will says as he stands. 

Pope and Benny follow his lead and stretch as they do it. You pat on Frankie’s leg and get up as well. Picking up the trash that has collected on the coffee table, you take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. It doesn’t take Will long to expertly gather up both his things and the men he brought with him. You and Frankie walk them out and send them off with sweet goodbyes and promises of doing this again soon. 

“See you at work tomorrow!” Benny calls back to you from the driveway.

As soon as you close the door, you can feel the energy shift in the room. 

“I thought they would never leave.” His voice is gravelly. 

When you look up at Frankie, he’s already staring down at you with the same look he had in his eyes earlier this afternoon. 

“I could barely hold it together with you teasing me like that. Did you enjoy it? Feeling me suffer under your fingers?”

He’s already got his hands on your hips and is pulling you flush against his body. You let out a low whimper as his mouth finds its home on yours. Your smile against him is answer enough to his question and he nips at your bottom lip in response. 

“Now it’s my turn to make you suffer. To drag it out until you’re begging me to stop.” 

He lifts you off the ground and you find yourself in an all too familiar position with your legs around his waist. You can feel him start to walk somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to look as you suck sweet red marks under his jaw line. Hearing him moan loudly only adds fuel to your fire that was never properly put out earlier. Each time he takes a step, the buckle of his belt rubs against your throbbing clit. You wriggle your body against his as best you can to generate as much friction as possible. When the light behind your eyelids fades, you know exactly where he has taken you. You feel him come to a stop and detach your lips from his neck and admire your work. Those rosy marks will definitely be there in the morning. 

“Hi.” You whisper as you turn your attention to his face. 

“Hi.” He says in the same hushed tone. “I’m going to give you an out. I should have done this this afternoon, but I-I got so caught up in you that I couldn’t think properly. If you don’t want to do this, tell me right now and we can pretend like it never happened. No hard feelings. I just don’t want you to do something you regret tomorrow.”

“Frankie,” You reach up for his hat and throw it to the floor so you can run your hands through his hair. His eyes flutter as you touch him ever so tenderly. “I don’t want an out. I want you.” 

His eyes water ever so slightly at your words. Like it was the first time he had ever been truly craved by another person in his life. It makes your heart crack at the thought. You lean in and capture his lips. They are so pliant against yours. It feels like they were made for you and you alone.

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then show me.”

He tosses you down on the bed and the plush comforter cradles your body. In an instant each of you are ripping off shirts and haphazardly unbuttoning pants. You look up at him, only in your underwear, and take all of him in. His strong arms, broad shoulders, a stomach that you can’t wait to feel rub against you. The lower your eyes go on his body, the harder he gets under his boxers. You squeal when he wraps his hands around your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. He never breaks eye contact as he kneels down in front of you. He starts slowly at first, kissing you through the fabric barrier. Adorning your thighs with his tongue and soft nips from his teeth. Your quiet moans fill his ears as he finally removes your last stitch of clothing. He chokes at the sight of your weeping cunt before him. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him to take a taste. 

Your cries bounce off the bedroom walls as he buries his face in between your thighs. His tongue works in ways that you never thought possible. You ball up the sheets beside you in your fists as he laps at you relentlessly. Breath stolen with each wicked sound that pours out of his throat. His hand removes itself from your thigh and climbs its way up your writhing body. In an effort to remain tethered to the earth you grab on tighter to him than you thought possible. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” You’re drunk off of him. “You feel so good.”

“And you taste even better.” 

He takes your clit in his mouth and your back arches as two thick fingers glide inside you. If this is his idea of suffering, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell. Your legs start to tremble, but he is unwavering. Drinking you up like you were the first sip of water he has had in years.

“Come for me, mi estrella.”

He holds your hand through your climax. The two of you moaning in unison as you drench him. He doesn’t detach his mouth from you until your body has ceased its shaking. Only when you're struggling to catch your breath, splayed out on the bed, does he retrace his path back up your body with his lips. His beard is glistening with your slick as he lowers himself to kiss you. The taste of you is prominent on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him and pull the rest of his weight on top of you. You can hear him growl in your ear when you start to move your hips underneath him. 

“Take them off.” You mewl. “I want to feel you. All of you.” 

He pushes off the bed frantically and sheds the last of his clothing. God, he was much bigger than you originally thought. You move your body upwards on the bed so you can lay on a pillow. You watch, mouth watering, as he starts to crawl his way back towards you. He licks his palm and uses it to stoke himself. The profane performance in front of you causes your mind to go blank. He lowers himself in between your legs again and you can feel his tip at your entrance. You can only mutter incomprehensible words as he sinks himself deep inside you. You wrap your arms back around him to keep yourself steady as you feel your walls stretch around his length.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, cariño.” His face is inches from yours. “I’ve got to move, okay?” 

You answer him by bringing your lips up to kiss him. Your whimpers are muffled by his mouth as he sets his pace. Each stroke is more detrimental than the previous one. Your nails bitting into his back only serves to motivate him as he continues. 

“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere. Frankie.” 

He sits up just enough to allow himself room to rub your clit. His face fluctuates between concentration and bliss. 

“Are you going to come for me again? Come for me all over my cock?” His fingers rub tight circles and you can feel yourself quickly approaching.

You nod in response to him.

“I can’t hear you. Use your words.” He demands.

“Yes,” you pant. “I’m going to come for you. Only for you.” 

Frankie is trying to keep himself from finishing before you do. He wants to make sure you at least finish twice before he even considers it. He brings the hand he was using on you up to his mouth and spits on it before connecting it to you again. The sounds that are coming from you are making it increasingly difficult to stay focused on his task. He looks down at you while he continues to pound into you and work at your clit. Your body gleams with sweat, your chest is heaving, your lips are swollen from him kissing them, and your eyes…your eyes are on him. He falters for a split second under your gaze. No other woman has ever made him nervous in bed the way you have. Never has he worried that he was doing too little or too much. But with you, he wanted everything to be perfect.

Frankie adjusts your hips so he can hit that sweet spot. He knows he found it when your eyes go wide and your jaw goes slack. He doesn’t change a thing about what he is doing. 

“I’m gonna come,” You sob.

You clench down tightly around him as you’re thrust into your second orgasm of the night. It only takes three or four more pumps until he too is consumed by his own pleasure. You feel him spurt hot ropes inside you and sink deeper into the bed. When he’s done, you feel a slight sting as he pulls out. He crawls beside you in the bed and ghosts his lips over yours.

“I’m going to get a towel to clean you up, alright? Are you going to be good here by yourself for a sec?”

“I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”

He smiles down at you and kisses you quickly before disappearing into the bathroom. You rest your eyes while the faucet runs faintly in the background. He’s quiet when pads into the bedroom, but you feel the bed creak beside you under his weight. The towel is damp and warm against you. You sigh contentedly as he takes his time in cleaning you up as if he is sad to see the evidence of him being washed clean from your skin. When he finishes, he sets the towel down on a nightstand and pulls the covers over both of you. His arms pull your tired body against his and envelop you in his warmth. 

“That was worth the wait.” You laugh.

“I would definitely say so, but hopefully we won’t have to wait so long for the next time.”

“No, I don’t think we will.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 }

[cnihachu]

whats ur opinion on generation loss niki? was curious because she's probably my favorite of nihachus characters,,extremely well written imo

I LOVE HER SOO MUCH OKAY . tbh i rlly rlly wish in general genloss went more into character deveklopment or was just Longer bc they had SUCH good personalities and god i want to know More..

what makes gl!niki for me is her acting- she is chillingly good at eliciting a reaction, and i think thats the goal both in and out of character. honestly i need to rewatch genloss im rusty but the way she saves the majority of her distress for when she's (mostly) off camera speaks to how she knows she needs to be what she precieves as likable, and playing up what she thinks are her 'best' qualities like kindness, and less explicitly, her ability to hide her emotions and please an audience. she needs to be good content for the audience if she has any hope of survival. she thinks no one will want her if she isn't nice and easy to digest. she doesnt percieve worth in herself if she isn't what shes assigned to be, a nice and kind person. even under extreme distress. even when she could die.

i know some people percieve her crying/fear to be fake or ingeniune but i really prefer the take (semi confirmed from cc!Niki) that she's switching it off or repressing her real emotions in a desperate attempt of survival.. it would be really suprising for someone to not be so incredibly scared in that situation. i remember when niki did a stream discussing genloss she said she pulled a lot from the reactions of how people would comment on her crying in stressful events like mcc and that it was directly kind of taken from those experiences of being a public figure (and by extention a woman in these spaces bc lets be real thats why she gets that backlash). i think thats so incredibly powerful to use those experiences to build a character it makes me sick cc!niki ilysm. gl!niki ilysm.

a direct quote from cc!niki about gl!niki: "i am literally locked up on a spinning wheel of death, and of course i will cry, but i will not show it- i will not be able to show it to the audience, i cannot show them that i'm scared. i cannot show them that i'm tired and- and sad, and fearing for my life, because that is what is expected of me. because the outcome that happens if i show how i feel is worse than the fate of death that i am fearing right now."

so in a way (to my small rabbit brain) gl!niki is an incredibly chilling take on the way fandom and the public treat women in content creation space as machines who can only express emotions that are pretty or convient for the audience.. like. even in an incredibly terrifying situation gl!niki steels herself to be more 'calm' and plays into what people percieve as the Single facet of her personaliy, being Nice.. Like, 'look at me! i'm completely rational, not overly emotional! i'm so useful and likable! i'm good content!" and ITS INSANE!!!!!!! ITS INSANE!!! HOW DO U COPE WITH THIS. I FEEL ILL. i nihachu defender lover brain so like . this is all just my own rambling idek . i love her to pieces </3

[pumpkinsy0]

this post is about the shepards having autism/being on the spectrum, strap in,,,

btw to b clear, they all got some other stuff goin on w em mentally, but im focusing on them bein autistic rn, im a bit rusty when it comes to talking about them w autism bc i havent talked about it in so long, I HOPE THIS ALL MADE SENSE

tim- the same way ppl see darry as being autistic is how i feel w tim, its not much of a difference honestly, so ion have much to say. he comes off as cold but he’s rlly not, he’s blunt and that makes him come off as rude to a ton of ppl and so therefore unapproachable, generally prefers to be alone minus like a few ppl (those ppl being angela and curly, and hes kinda had to grow to get used to pony being around a bit). he kinda has a monotone voice. he does have a same routine generally speaking and HATES when it gets fucked up somehow, he gets pretty agitated. his special interest is maybe like, space or somethin like that, but he seems pretty casual about it so ppl dont exactly understand that its literally a special interest, if that makes sense. he can notice patterns n small things other ppl wouldnt. i could see him having synesthesia and pain insensitivity, thats part of the reason y ppl think hes so tough in fights, they think hes just so used to fights he cant rlly get hurt like others can but no, he genuinely just doesnt react to pain stimuli that much 

curly- hes the one out of all three of em where i actually have him more fleshed out😭

he does stim, however its things that r deemed as more “normal” to do in front of others like bouncing his leg, tapping something, etc etc, but i will tell u a good chink of his stiff is chewed bc he just “felt like biting something”. he doesnt know the volume of his own voice and that gets him into a bit of trouble, sometimes hes rude genuinely without even meaning to and he things thats just bc hes a shepard, he has his moments where he takes shit literally or just doesnt get social rules. honestly i could see him being either a lil too clingy physically or him hating being touched by others, maybe hes a mix of both. he also has pain insensitivity and like i said, ppl think its bc hes gotten into so many fights, he just doesnt feel that pain no more, but nope, genuinely registers pain differently BUT if u want him to be hypersensitive to touch, i will tell u that he is tender headed so tim always has trouble braiding his hair especially when he was younger. this is like more modern day ish hc of him but ik he would be repeating words/phrases over and over (its called echolalia i think). doesnt rlly make eye contact a while bunch, its not bc hes nervous or it makes him uncomfortable tho its just like, a thing he does idk how to explain it. hes autistic but if u literally just got this nigga someone to get a look at him it becomes pretty obvious hes autistic, hes literally not even masking, if u had someone u hc to be autistic and they looked at him on his day to day life theyre def goin “hmm,,,”. hes def gotten into a fight bc he was overstimulated lmao

his special interest can b bugs or horror movie or something along those lines

angela- my girl angela,,,,shes the one masking thee HARDEST i just know it, ppl would deny shes autistic the most bc they dont understand autism in women, they would just say “shes just being a normal girl”, and i cant explain it bc we would b here for a while, but i will tell u she would show an obvious sign of being autistic and it gets written off bc ppl just see that as her being girly. ANYWAYS, shes hypersensitive (which means shes a bit tender headed, save my black girl), she gets annoyed by minor changes, has trouble making friends and this is for a multitude of reasons but her being autistic is one of em, has less obvious stims, she mostly plays w her hair, her special interest is more “socially accepted for a girl” and so ppl dont even see that as being her special interest which leads to her being undiagnosed, lowkey imitates other ppls hand gestures, and i have other ideas for her but i need to wrap this up this is becoming an essay😭😭

ANYWAYS they r undiagnosed bc they 1) dont have the resources to get tested lmao 2) they r black and black ppl tend to get misdiagnosed w something else bc they r so underrepresented  and 3) they r immigrants and immigrant parents dont rlly believe in having mental issues lmfao 4) they arent the “textbook outlook” of autism

[merryro]

bottom ryan ross fic recs =D

this post is what it says on the tin! mostly ryden, i'll indicate if otherwise. fics w ☆ means they're my FAVES. will update as i find more ^_^

fics on livejournal! (most of these are written by the same writer?!)

☆ Rose Is a Four-Letter Word *sort of gsf (but mostly ryden), summary: Ryan's allergic to roses. Well, maybe "allergic" is the wrong word for it. my absolute FAVOURITE fic. ever.

☆ There's No 'I' In Ryan Ross *gsf, summary: Jon Walker attempts the impossible: to make the gayest band on the planet even gayer

hormones in key *panic! gsf + pete wentz on the phone

The Taste of Red *summary: It would seem absurdly ordinary, Ryan waking up next to another body like this, except for the fact that Brendon's not breathing. vampire brendon!

We Were Dreamers Not So Long Ago *rywalk, summary: Set about ten years in the future in a cabin in the woods, Jon and Ryan go to unwind before they start up again. Ryan's less than pleased, but that changes quickly.

We Were Heading For The Sea *summary: "Across the kitchen table, I fired several rounds, but you were still sitting there when the smoke cleared." – Ani Difranco post-split ANGST ANGST

☆ and set this cruise control for crash *rycer, summary: We had to, Ryan says, for the band. my notes for this fic was "CDSZZYYFUCKING FIC IM LOSING ITTTTT"

☆ Crush (With Eyeliner) *gsf, summary: Yeah, honestly, Jon Walker totally is that kind of guy. He just doesn't know it yet. anything written in jon's pov is automatically a 10/10 fic

Broken Glass and Rusty Nails *summary: When Ryan gets the tattoo, he bears it casually, sprawled out in the chair and smiling at Brendon's chatter as the needle traces over his skin. ryan has a freaky pain kink

Here Be Dragons * no summary but here's the main gist: time travel fic, ryan wants to be the one to take brendon's virginity underaged brendon but not by a lot

A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More Schoolboy Crush *rywentzden or whatever the shipname for ryan/brendon/pete is, double penetration, summary: What if Ryan can have them both?

The Pros and Cons of Group Sex With Your Bandmates *gsf + pete again! that man is always in patd's business

☆ That First Inconveivable Touch *summary: Ryan never gets what he wants like this. It's just not how his life works. dirty sex in a bathroom!

Like a Game *sequel to That First Inconceivable Touch summary: Boys are only after one thing, Ryan is. Ryan doesn't know what he's after, but he hopes to find that only one thing one of these days so he can stop looking.

This Is Screaming 'Photo Op' *summary: Brendon thinks Ryan is totally sexy. brendon finds pics of ryan naked

☆ laid bare for all to see, but mostly just for you *no summary but here's the gist: ryan is a slut and brendon fucks him against a window (its REALLY hot)

☆ NaNoRyRo *a compilation of ryden smutshots over 30 days. literally felt like i struck gold finding this

Bets Off * summary: "I know you guys are taking bets on me and Brendon," Ryan said, "and I want in." kinda sad since we’re actually in the future now and… they didn’t last forever

you’ll be platinum *summary: Brendon's sex tape gets mixed reviews. i honestly love the way this fic went from brendons sex tape is leaked to ryan has an existential crisis

after i have dreamed *summary: Brendon’s eyes are huge and brown and his lashes are approximately as thick as trees, and yeah, their noses are brushing because Brendon has just leaned in closer. He’s thumbing Ryan’s arm carefully, blinking, and Ryan swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, suppressing the urge to bite his lip. such a beautiful fic, chockfull of wonderful imagery

In The Sound *was deleted off lj but luckily someone saved this on the wayback machine! so that’s the link i put here, summary: How could you walk away from it? Why are you still walking away? this fic. wow. ok it doesn’t count as bottom ryan bc theres no explicit sex, but its just such a good story so i wanted to recommend it! its a ‘what if’ brendon left the band scenario n yeah its heartbreaking but its a happy ending!!!

Take Center Stage And Step Up To Save The Last Dance (He Was A Sk8er Boi) *ryden switch! ryan tops first then brendon, if udm!! summary: They come from two different worlds. a fic inspired by Sk8er Boi by avril lavigne! ryans a skater and brendon does dance

like you imagined *summary: Yeah, Ryan's thought about it. ryden’s first time! sooo hot

Spin Cycle *ryan has a dirty stinky tshirt kink, doesn’t technically bottom cs he just sucks brendon off but its really hot!

To A Man’s Heart *side couples jon/joe and spencer/patrick summary: Desperate to escape an arranged marriage, Charleston belle Ryan Ross heads to Denver and takes his chances as a mail-order bride. When he arrives, he discovers that handsome rancher Brendon Urie has absolutely no desire to marry--until Ryan charms him with his sweet nature and even sweeter kisses.

One Summer Last Fall *summary: Fall Out Boy never existed, so life is pretty tough for Ryan Ross. no actual fucking in this one but its such a hilarious read!

In Medias Res *summary: One minute they were watching tv and Brendon was groping Ryan good-naturedly, and the next...

The Ones You Can Count On *ryan/william beckett/mike carden no summary but basically ryan is sad bc he cant have brendon so bill and mike carden of tai… fuck him! really hot and really good

☆ Four Men And A Little Cabin *gsf, Unrelated, non-linear scenes from a recording cabin

The Hand That Feeds *summary: It's always easy enough for Ryan to come to him after the fact, after ignoring Brendon all night, after being with her; easy enough for Brendon to give in.

☆ That’s What He Said *gsf, idk how to tag this but everyone fucks everyone, its hot, summary: Truckstops and Statelines and boyfriends, etc.

Sweeter Than Candy, Better Than Cake *gsf, summary: It's really no big deal that their male guitarist smells fruity and has unnecessarily glossy lips.

The One Where Ryan Ross Gets Gangbanged *panic! gsf, but mainly ryden, summary: All Ryan wants on his birthday is to get fucked. A lot.

just a little longer, long enough *kind of rycer? and joncer.. and also ryden… summary: Spencer has plans, Spencer gets what he wants, Spencer is clueless. A spencer character study, really worth a read!!

☆ where the light bends at the cracks *ryon, with a super subtle tiny hint at ryden, no summary and idk how to describe it even, just read it!!!

Hum Along With The TV *not really explicit sex but im pretty sure ryan bottoms… summary: "Brendon." There's a smile as he sits down on the bottom step, knocking Ryan's knees slightly; a smile with straight, white teeth and an imperious mouth, one that gets imprinted into memory. He cups his hands around his lips and tilts his head. There's a brief orange glow and a lazy stream of smoke as Brendon asks, "So, what are you here for?"

"penises are for boys, vaginas are for girls, unless of course, something crazy happens. then anything's game." *fem ryan!

fics on ao3!

not to shamelessly plug but my patd fics are all bottom ryan. it's not much but check it out if you wanna ^_^

☆ ash in your mouth *summary: Ryan just tilts his head, hands behind his back on the table, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, make-up runny and smudgy, eyes alive, little pearl teeth biting his lips as if he’s holding something back. the end has a little kick to it.

Give Me Envy, Give Me Malice, Give Me Your Attention *summary: The aftermath of Brendon running into Ryan at the 2015 Halloween party.

A Fever You Can't Sweat Out *rycer (implied gsf), summary: Ryan has a strange affinity for sweat. And when I say affinity… sex pollen-esque

Hands Down *summary: Brendon is experimenting, but he doesn't know that Ryan is too.

Out of Tune *this fic is locked so you need an account to read it, summary: Brendon wakes up tone deaf. Ryan has no idea what to do. Maybe sex will fix it?

What We Have Is What We Will Be Given *summary: They finally have a hotel night, and Ryan's got everything planned, even if he's not the one in charge.

☆ No Object *wentzross, ryden switch, summary: The first blowjob Pete gets from Ryan is startlingly mediocre, considering that it's the kid's job.

Fucking like rabbits *summary: Ryan has been desperate for the whole show, Brendon is sweaty and in love, and their last song is a fucking love song. They really were reinventing love right on that stage. stage gay on another level

it's just flesh, it's just flesh *locked fic! summary: Ryan's mouth tastes sort of like the sour candy he got from the vending machine earlier, but mostly it's just hot and wet and warm. this one also has a lil kick! small kick

Drive Faster, Boy *summary: Ryan, Brendon, backseats, secrets.

☆ That Left a Mark *DUBCON (brendon is super drunk) summary: Alcohol initially serves as a stimulant, then induces feelings of relaxation and reduced anxiety. Consumption of two or three drinks in an hour can impair judgment, lower inhibitions, and induce mild euphoria.

An Unlikely Victorian Heroine *locked fic, summary: "You're like a Victorian heroine," Brendon says, rolling one bracelet over Ryan's hand to expose a little more skin, then another and another until he has a small pile on the bed. "Arms aren't supposed to get me so hot, Ross."

☆ How Did I Fall In Love With You? *summary: Bad things happen when Ryan reads fanfiction. i love meta fics like this

You Will Know The Difference When I Touch You *summary: It wasn’t a gay thing at first. Well, it was possible that Brendon had a tiny little crush on Ryan, but it was a buried thing in the back of his still-half-Mormon brain, emerging very slowly.

Two of Cups *the second part is gsf, summary: Spencer and Ryan are part of Pete's travelling circus. Jon and Brendon come for the show, but there's something about the place that keeps them coming back for more.

It must be an alien thing *idk if this counts but its ryan getting girl parts and brendon fucks him and if bden fucks him then yeah hes a bottom idc, summary: “His dick’s missing too,” adds Jon, and if Ryan had lasers in his eyes, Jon Walker would be history right then and there. “And he keeps telling this alien theory, but it can’t be fucking aliens, man. Aliens are too busy doing their shit to give you tits and a pussy.”

☆ Leaving Without Moving *mainly ryden but theres a hint of one-sided rycer from ryan, summary: "I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything here. But seriously, I'm just trying to make things clear - what you want is to be my own personal little toy, is that it? You want to be my pet in the... pet sense?" I HAVE NOOO IDEA HOW IVE NEVER COME ACROSS THIS FIC BEFORE ITS SO GOOD!!

☆ Hard to Believe in Sundays *rywalk, summary: Ryan shouldn't be making out with one of The Academy Is…'s techs in the dusky brown darkness behind his own tour bus where everyone, anyone, could see. Truckstops and Statelines-era. Just. wow the writing and the story are super amazeballs

Candyman *summary: It's a strange and beautiful thing to hate yourself so much you'd let someone else do this to you. Even stranger is trusting them enough to say these things and not mean it. Or mean it and love fuck you anyway. post-split, kinda poetic and angsty

☆ Give me more *read the tags! summary: They called this tough love. 2005, just starting out the band, brendon getting kicked out his house, just a really interesting and well-written fic. couldn't put it down once i started!

☆ Dog Ears, Frozen Lakes and the Resonance of Your Voice *gsf (mainly ryden), summary: The boys go on vacation to a secluded cabin in Switzerland for Christmas. a short sweet and hot fic! ryan just loves his whole band

[callmearcturus]

Also raised my eyebrow that the “pseudonyms” used in the piece were all TMA characters (and generally well-liked ones) which is something that’s going to play a certain way to the readers depending on who they’ve chosen and they definitely knew that! That alone discredited some of their journalistic integrity for me, even without knowing who the author was. The title of the piece was also off to me, considering it really wasn’t about Alex at all and that was acknowledged near the end. Not saying this means one thing or another either, but knowing who wrote it definitely puts some things in perspective for me!

yeah no zyka is sharing parts with the class and like this is so far from being objective or reasonable, it's complete horseshit

again: i am sure that managerial fuck ups happened and screwed people and that's not okay

but this shit is trying to build a narrative and uuhhhhhh

Was Rusty Quill testing the waters to see what they could get away with, and what people were prepared to call them out for? It seemed they hoped for everyone to stay quiet so the company’s image could stay clean and things would blow over. Why?

nah brah its pretty common to ask people not to talk about layoffs while they are still in progress, that's actually really fucking normal. you can choose not to obey but its not weird

An observation has been made to me that there’s a very good chance that the list on Kickstarter of stretch goal guest writers may be the totality of the people in the audio fiction indie world that have still not had an experience with Rusty Quill.

this is provably untrue and also the way it frames a specific narrative is incredibly suspicious

What Rusty Quill seems to be doing with The Magnus Protocol is banking on its fans to bail it out. Instead of putting in the work with their original shows, shows full of stories and characters fans have already become attached to, they’re pulling back and returning to what is profitable and nostalgic.

lmao fuck off

guess what, folks, i knew the second the KS was announced that TMA2 was for money. like, i'm sure they worked on an idea and formed it and tried to come up with something cool. but if one of their other properties had blown up, we would not be seeing TMA2

just because you are doing something to get paid doesn't make it soulless and evil.

and folks I'm sorry but: when you are a working artist, doing the art that gets you paid isn't a fucking crime, and the marketing director of fable and folley knows it.

also i hated the "WTNV is only big bc its gay" and i hate the "TMA only blew up bc its gay." get fucked. a lot of people found out about TMA bc jonmart but to be clear: if the show wasn't good, people would not have listened to 159 fucking episodes just for two boys to hold hands. grow up.

no fucking sell.

[dentist-brainsurgeon]

All things considered yesterday was probably the best case scenario

The Good:

My sister didn't know that my brother and I were showing up so she got the double whammy surprise, she damn near fainted and cried lol. I gave her a massive hug and picked her up(I should not have done that, my weight limit is 20 pounds💀) had some bonding moments, I was apprehensive about seeing my brother considering the baggage™️and just his non response to what I drew for him a few months back but to my surprise he played nice and did thank me for drawing that and we talked about nerd shit a lot, I had a Rusty from Armored Core keychain on me and he pointed it out and talked about what kits we like running in AC6. And since this was in Cali traffic was abysmal, I had forgotten how bad it was to get anywhere, so like 3 hours after the graduation came dinner Time, to the place we would always go to for celebrations, except they had a rebranding that sucks ass but w/e. My brother, dad and I all were chatting about nerd shit and after a time came gift time, and when she opened the gift I got her, she almost cried!! Bc it was something that had a lot of story behind it and incredibly hard to find(she also had a hard time looking for it for years!) We were all super excited and thrown back at what it was and she gave me a big teary eyed hug 🥺 and my brother gave me a fist bump and a hug about that too, so a BIG winner winner chicken dinner moment. While my mom wasn't paying attention my sister gave me her number!! And my brother wanted to be friends on discord (we'll see how that goes ig)

The bad:

My mom has not changed a bit, color me surprised. I never looked her in the eye and stiffened up any time she touched me and just gave very short flat answers any time she tried to talk to me, I didn't want to cause a scene(it's my sister's graduation so that was a big no no for me) and she made her very awful racist, sexist "statistically you should've been pregnant in high school and had your third kid by now(me), you should be in prison(my brother) and you should be on drugs(my sister)🤪🤪🤪" joke(that really wasn't originally a "joke") and I mentioned to both my siblings how she hadn't changed a bit after all these years. During dinner time she ordered pizza n salad, and my sister wanted to order something, cuz y'know, ITS HER DAY, but mom wouldn't let her, I wanted to order her food for her but knowing mom, I didn't want it to be a problem at dinner or after dinner, so I ended up not ordering for my sister. Another thing, I don't remember what the conversation was, but my mom blurred out "oh you can't ruin my, I mean her day like that 🤪" and my sister looked so disgusted, and I gave her a knowing but reassuring look and nod, and not long after that my mom said once my sister turns 18 she's going to become a raging alcoholic and do lines of coke off a strippers dick amongst a lot of other crude statements that would be bad any other day but just downright awful oh her 17yo daughters graduation, absolutely deranged woman, and I gave my sister yet another knowing look. I can't wait til my sister gets out of there by any means necessary, I do hope this whole ordeal is a wake up call to both my siblings that maybe our one shared parent is just revolting and maybe they can distance themselves from her eventually. My sister is such a sweetie, she doesn't deserve this and it's such a shame no matter how much our mom can pretend and manipulate people into believing she's grown, she has not changed, not moved a centimeter and she's nearing 60 at this point

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

Hey! I'm sooooo happy to finally find another person that ships Scarecrow and Batman! This is ship is so underrated and it deserves MUCH more recognition 👏☺️ Also, I love your art and analysis of these characters!

I don't know if you've answered this before, but what do you think about the Arkhamverse version of them? I would prefer Arkham Knight, but if you feel uncomfortable with it, Arkham Asylum is fine (I love both). I don't know what to think of it at the moment and I'm trying to form an opinion!

I hope you have an amazing day!! ❤️❤️

Can I be 🐓 anon if you allow anons?

hello there!! i’m also happy to meet another fellow-minded scarebat believer out there! scarebat is just such a fascinating ship. i’m honestly go uwu when i see other people enjoying it too! this pair indeed deserve more recognition an’ love! an’ aw, heck, thank you! it makes me blush knowing that someone can have fun with those lil, whimsical things i do! 

an’ oh, nope. i didn’t answer this one! arkhamverse’s content is smth that i see circulating around a lot, but i didn’t see much content for that version of scarebat. i guess, the constant choking, an’ ‘get on your knees now, crane’ wasn’t enough to awaken smth in anyone *besides me an’ 2-3 other fine wine enjoyers*. which is once again too bad, bc even design wise, they’re kinda a banger in their own right. whichever version we take, it’s just a good contrast between batman’s heavy armour an’ jon’s typical rags *with some cyber-punk touch later on*. like, while i’m a simple gal who tends to simp for ‘classic’ outlooks, i do appreciate what the game did. gotta love crane’s freddy krueger syringe glove, an’ how he got it embedded into bruce’s neck an’ chest, an’ then got stabbed with it himself lol. there is a lot of homoerotic stuff, which can be done with it! esp bc it’s such a close range weapon, an’ each version of akrham’s crane used it differently. in arkham asylum, he injected the poison into bruce’s arm. the desperate, angry action kinda reminded me of a pissy, bristling animal, that would bite your hand, when if you try to grab it. in the next game, jon was way more vicious, less of a thrashing opossum that you find in your garage an’ more of a snake, that you accidentally step on, while you climbing down your porch. the vast difference between his mental states then an’ later on is an interesting theme for speculations. esp bc bruce is also worse to wear in the next game. in fact, i’d say that arkham knight sorta depicts them at their subjective ‘worst’ almost. an’ it says smth, bc i don’t think that either of them are ever in good mental place. 

i kinda find it interesting how some people would assume, that if person acts cold an’ detached, it means that they’re ‘in control’, when sometimes, it’s the opposite. in bruce’s case for sure. but i’d like this for some versions of crane as well, bc it suits his psychotype as well. not to mention, that jon’s hygiene in arkham knight is at its lowest too, which says a few things about his mental state right off the bat. or how he didn’t seem to properly treat his own wounds, just instantly throwing himself into his biggest scheme. a man truly possessed by revenge. 

but welp, if we go into specifics of each separate version of arkhamverse, i guess, i will start with arkham asylum! my memories about those games are a bit rusty, but i’ll go with what i remember. providing more emphasis on arkham knight, since they do have more going on an’ you seem more interested in that specific version too! 

still, first things first, i love how jonathan was half-naked during the first game lol. it’s just so funny to me, bc he is usually covered from head to toe, but in there, he was shirtless, wearing pants that held for dear life on those skinny hips an’ i’ll bet dude had nothing underneath them either. he’s never was the most proper person, admittingly, but idk, running around the dirty asylum an’ hunting your enemy while showing off your nips an’ stomach is…smth else. esp for a prude like crane. but i guess, at that point of time, he seemed to be so deranged, that his usual body issues no longer worried him. besides, poison ivy walked around in her underwear an’ blouse that was held together by one durable button, why can’t he do the same? it’s not like batman would comment on it, even if he wanted to. but like, honestly, all the hints of possible spooky + sexy times were there, so it’s a shocker, that no one has done anything about it yet. i mean, you literally have jonathan, who was flashing the bat for 20 minutes straight, an’ it’s not smth that the majority of cranes would ever have the guts to do in any other set-up. btas an’ comicverse ones would downright combust, before they’d be walking around batman shirtless. but not that gremlin. he was all about it. even if i do think, that he wasn't fully aware about what it means, an’ that it’s kinda embarrassing to do smth like that, while you are trying to be intimidating. he’s not bane. it’s not like he has some crazy muscular mass to show off. but it is very stimulating to think about the ways it all can be used in. the cold bat’s armour to exposed skin of a spooky toothpick. batman grips scarecrow’s clothes, when they fight. in there, it’ll be almost all naked skin. that’s a sexy imagery to have! 

as for the substance of the arkham asylum on itself, i don’t think that scarecrow was in there a lot. but then again, maybe i just remember it this way. it is however curious how fast crane goes from campy looney to more serious, jarred person, we see in the next game. an’ his whole motivation shifts from ‘you’re just like us and have fears’ to ‘there is no saviour. no hope’. almost like he was very, very let down, when batman failed to save him that one time lol. but considering that arkhamverse kept jonathan’s comic origin, it’s safe to assume that yeah, he took that very-very personally. he isn’t the joker, who kinda never brings up how many times, batman casually let him ‘die’. the btas alone has like 3 occasions like that lmao. meanwhile, jon went into a scornful cold rage, after just one epic fail, which, at the end of the day, is very him lol. the drugged up bat didn’t save him, that’s it. no one’s supremacy, fuck gotham. an’ i’m only partly jeering here. 

which leads us straight to to arkham knight version, an’ to bruce instantly going up there an’ choking the living hell out of jon, the second he sees him. what a reunion! esp with that whole head hitting an’ throwing crane onto floor, like a ragdoll. batman just had to assert his dominance, even when jonathan barely opened his mouth. *bc yeah, you stay down, bottom*. i like how crane tried his hardest to be serious an’ imposing during that whole deal, but the bat just wasn't super amused. yet, like usual, he did give the scarecrow room to speak later on. allowing him to walk around him. an’ boy, gotta appreciate that ‘bad guy's sly hips play’ as scarecrow circled the bat. it was quite a vision. even with fucked up leg, he managed to pull that off. i wish there were more moments like this. they had a lot of potential for more brutal scarebat interactions, than some other versions of them. all the cues for it were there. batman was hallucinating a ghost of a dead clown, who wouldn’t shut up about whatever, an’ jonathan was all about his ‘end goal’, not caring what he had to do to get to it. what an explosive combo. i was low-key surprised, that bruce didn’t wipe the floor with crane just out of pure frustration, an’ then some. an’ considering how fucked up they both are in that version, it wouldn’t put it past the ghost!joker to suggest they’d do smth else with crane, if batman is unwilling to kill him. there is actually a lot of leeway, with bruce blaming some stuff on his personal brain damage, while joker just keeps on pouring gasoline into the fire. i even had this one idea about the joker playing a horrible matchmaker just to make everyone even more miserable, but mostly just bruce. all while not expecting crane to be able to return the sentiment in his own messed up manner. 

an’ speaking of sentiment, i do think that it can be here as well. it’ll be buried under layers an’ layers of pseudo-resentment, but that’s like typical scarebat. no one ever talk about their real emotions in that ship lol. well, not in a normal way. in arkham knight, i suppose the joker can be a narrator of bruce an’ crane’s relationships. not missing a beat to tell them *well, bruce* how much they suck. an’ he won’t even be wrong, batman abandoning some of his duties, bc well, this. an’ crane as per usual getting confused by feelings, that isn’t hatred or fear. they can enter those intense relationships with the worst kind of miscommunication. bc they awful at it, when they’re not super unstable *or at least one of them isn’t*, an’ now they can be godawful at it, bc batman is close to breaking point, an’ jonathan is at his bitterests an’ pettiest. crane also can assume, that he can ‘unmade’ the bat this way, all while messing up his own scheme in the process. with god’s help, they might even survive this. idk about gotham tho lol. the joker being a third wheel an’ technically a cuck in that situation just adds how messed up it all is. but maybe with jon’s ‘help’, they can deal with that problem too. i don’t think, crane would like to share in any way. i mean, he would have been pissed off, if he learned that batman had a mini-devil on his shoulder the whole time. in a way, it kinda defeats the purpose of it all. it would almost like taking all the credit from him, an’ he won’t stand for it. crane combating bruce’s personal ghosts for his own selfish, possessive needs is smth, i would have liked to see for them. jonathan accidently being a good psychiatrist to bruce is my peak scarebat dark comedy. similar to how in ‘kings of fear’, it was basically ‘i can fix him, but bitch, you’re worse’ kind of deal too. in return, bruce can try an’ help crane actually put some proper garnet for his leg on, an’ look a bit less like a sickly *even if scary-spooky-cool* animal. they can find some middle ground, even if for questionable reasons, or they can have that slow-burn from enemies to lovers thing too. heck, i mean, it’s a wonder how come that scarecrow didn’t kidnap bruce first to try an’ break him a tad more, before making gotham see ‘that they had no hope’ an’ all that. 

on less game plot related notes, i do like to play around with what can be done about jon’s state in arkham knight. like his face being all messed up, half of his body moving way more stiffly, there are a lot of things that can be done with it. an’ the parallel of batman being crippled on the inside an’ crane being pretty much this an’ then also damaged outside of it….mmm, that’s just good. also we all know that nolanverse crane moaned ‘batman’ like a whore while his hair were pulled, but what about arkham knight’s scarecrow lil gay gasps an’ whimpers, when bruce held him by the throat an’ injected him with his own toxin? if gordon an’ jason weren’t there, i wonder what might have happened lol. love scarecrow’s scared expressions in that game btw, somehow they still manage to make him look cute. 

an’ now for a bit of nitpicky bit. when i look back at arkham knight, like some other folks, i do wish there was less…joker in it. he did add some fun elements there or here, but he should have been a background segment tbh. i really wanted to see more of mindbending stuff similar to level in arkham asylum. batman ‘given into’ hallucination joker’s cheers to kill crane, even if it was all a mindfuck bit was tasteless for me. if they wanna make bruce kinda walk that route, i’d rather see him doing it by his own misgivings an’ rage. tho, i do give credit where it’s duo, crane saying ‘you’ve changed’ an’ not sounding esp thrilled about it was curious smth. 

but omg, that’s got long, haha. hope, it’s not too troublesome. i’m kinda chatty an’ rambly kind of person, esp when i talk about things i love. can’t talk short in most cases. 

thank you for the ask btw! i do enjoy talking about scarebat a lot, no matter what version. an’ i hope, that your day is going great as well! i do apologise for how late some of my responses are coming through. i tend to pick at questions for a couple of days or so, just to make sure that i kinda give it my utmost thoughts, haha. hopefully, my answer helped you to form your own vision on the matter better or gave you an idea how different / similar you see smth, when it comes to those two. 

an’ sure thing! that’s a cute symbole btw!

[running-swimming-living]

I took a break from tumblr but I’m back now. My life has had its ups and downs and I felt I needed more support in my day to day life. This place has always been a great place to post struggles, successes and feel lifted up from the positive interactions I have with my mutuals and followers. So I’m back!

My close friend is having a crisis. I’ve only known him for a year or so. But I still care and worry for him. He is isolating and I want to show my care and concern without bombarding him with too much attention especially if he wants to be alone. It’s a fine line. I miss him though ☹️

I went out with another friend and we got manicures for the first time. I enjoyed it and like seeing my nails look so clean and well taken care of. But the price was a bit too much so I will probably not go back or wait a long time between visits.

My tutoring company is coming together. The kids I work with are all really great. I am a little rusty and need to study to stay caught up. I think I am professional and well articulated. My prices r good. I’m hoping to study up and establish myself and then get a regular morning shift job with tutoring in the evenings in the next tax year.

My schizoaffective disorder is managed. I feel like mentioning it bc it gives perspective into my situation and struggles.

Halloween is coming up. I am going as an Amazon delivery driver. I am going to carry around a box of candy and hand it out. Heading to a party the day of. I wanted to do pumpkin carving but my mental health clubhouse schedule and my tutoring schedule overlapped. So I’m missing out ☹️ they’re having a murder mystery night and I can’t go.

My friends have also been supporting me in weight loss. My friend I got my manicure with has been great source of camaraderie. We both want to lose weight so it’s refreshing to have those conversations with her. My other friend wants to go to the gym with me. He runs like 10 miles at a time 😅but yea. Well lift and it’ll be good for me. He can push me.

My therapist says I’m thriving and I’m starting to see it. I’ve been watching virgin river on Netflix per her request and it’s fun. It’s been helping my social anxiety a lot. I be taking notes lol.

That’s all. A short fall run. I love fall ❤️🍁🍂

[vivaladicamillo]

dude can we have like jess x reader (headcanons or like an actual imagine, your choice idm) where jess reunites with the reader after tour?? maybe reader is filming with the other guys for vlb when they see eachother again :)

JESS MARGERA/GN! READER

hey yallll its been a while hasnt it, im back tho, so much has happened lately and ive been in and out of fixation recently but im home and im gonna start posting again !! who cheered!!

WARNINGS: none

———————————————————

ok so if u were dating jess he would be the sweetest man ever

especially if it was early cky days

he may seem like he doesn’t care that much bc of his relaxed attitude but oh god hes head over heels

surprises u with little gifts

either little trinkets he discovered while on tour in the hotel store

or a bouquet of ur favorite flowers

it could be even js ur favorite snacks

he is a stage 5 clinger

when u too are alone that is

always wrapping hands around ur torso and snuggling into u

the man is TALLLLLL so he js folds in onto u

good luck getting out!

going to his shows are always a blast

u stand right near the curtains and watch him play the drums

and yes when u cheer for him he hears it

definitely gets proud when he sees u trying to promote the band

trying to hand out cds?

wearing a shirt with the cky logo on it?

stealing his cky beanie (he will drop dead)

hes gonna attack u…with love ofc

hes definitely loves to js smother u with kisses

and that beard makes it tickle

if hes doing any stunts for vlb or cky, ur always on the side either cheering him on or WORRYING

hes always decent in the end

even when he hurt his elbow

u were there to help

but hes not letting u do any stunts

not when hes retarded brothers around

SPEAKING OF BAM

bam is definitely a little shit and teases jess abt u

or he will js make out if pocket jokes

“soooo is he good in bed?”

“BAM U LITTLE SHIT!”

u and april r besties

girls days out with april!??

yes plz

making runs to target and js talking shit

basically all the things her sons dont wanna do

u feel like ur part of the family

but who wouldnt wanna be?

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hope u enjoyeddd, a little rusty at using this app but ill get used to it