#I think they would just all make it everyone’s problem

[saintjosie]

apologies if you’ve talked about something this before, but your post on experiencing exclusion in trans fem circles on account of being an east asian woman who speaks up came up on my dash and it reminded me of something that‘a been troublingme.

i’m also asian and trans, and i’m always really sent off-kilter when i see white trans people idealizing japanese aesthetics and asian people in general. so many white trans people use anime tropes and aesthetics while also othering real asian people, esp other asian trans people. does it feel appropriative/fetishistic to you?

i guess it’s just something that echoes general white-centric society but it feels like a lot of white trans people focus more on their transness and forget that their whiteness doesn’t just go away or get excused, if that makes sense

this is a great ask with no easy answer. the short answer is yes, you’re absolutely right, but there is also a lot of nuance that’s very important to address too.

white people in general have an enormous problem with misunderstanding the difference between appropriation and appreciation. and that applies to appropriating the culture of all people of color because appropriation is a symptom of colonization. part of that is because it’s very difficult to have a catch-all definition that clarifies the distinction between the two because each person approaches the things they consume in a different way, with varying levels of excitement. i simply cannot point a finger at all white people who enjoy anime and say, “this is bad”, because it simply is not true. it would be just as harmful if a white person were to say, “i would never watch anime because i think it’s weird”, because while appropriation is objectively a form of colonization, appreciation is a celebration of diversity. and celebration of diversity is good!

but i think you hit the nail on the head when you say that a lot of white queer and trans people forget that even though that they are oppressed by cis heterosexual patriarchy, the intersection of oppression that exists between oppressed identities and race means that as white people, they still have white privilege. full stop. and so we often have this issue, especially with young queer and trans people (young as in newly realized queerness and transness, not age) where there is a pause in deconstructing whiteness because they are too focused on deconstructing the privilege that they have suddenly lost by embracing their marginalized identities.

and the issue goes even deeper when you realize that people of color also struggle to realize that we often also perpetuate and contribute to oppression of other people of color as well. east asian people in particular forget that even though we are people of color, we do not face the same kind of oppression that black and brown people of color do, and often we perpetuate racism through appropriation of black culture and also just straight up racism. i think most asian people can attest to how often asian people can be racist as fuck. and i’ve definitely seen asian people who think it’s acceptable to make aave and using the n-slur a part of their personality. and at the same time there is an enormous problem with black people fetishizing asian people and latching on to anime and k-pop in ways that perpetuate the oppression of asian people, as well as just being racist towards asians in general.

and root of the issue is that white supremacy affects all of us. EVERYONE has whiteness to deconstruct because we all live in a system that was built on white supremecy, even if we do not have white privilege ourselves. the answer is that everyone period must bear the burden of constantly deconstructing whiteness, deconstructing our own privilege, and doing our part to lift each other up. and while it is true that white people often have the most work to do in deconstructing their own privilege, none of us are absolved.

[rochenn]

I enjoy this fandom's overwhelmingly wholesome portrayal of the clones as individuals and as a community but ngl their upbringing on Kamino would foster a ton of toxic attitudes that I'd like to hear more people's takes on.

I think esp where mental health and performance issues are concerned the vibes would be RANCID. Again I love wholesome clones, and I'm not saying there wouldn't be any of those, but the Kamino cloning facilities are exactly the sort of environment that produces ppl who say shit like "everyone is doing this, why can't you?" or "just be normal" or "stop being depressed". Imo this kind of thinking would have a big impact on aspects of clone culture and community (since there's no such thing as a community without problems like that).

Imagine literally having the same DNA as everyone else but you're failing at something that millions of people with your exact "hardware" have perfected before. Both your creators and your own brothers just place all those "default" expectations on you. And how does that translate to the battlefield? You simply cannot show weakness bc at home, that would make you an inferior product, and on the job it would jeopardize your mission and everyone around you. You'd be stuck in an endless cycle of "man up and get your shit together" and more exploration of that would be fascinating I think.

Overall I'm advocating for more clones that kind of just turn out to be bad people bc it's not like goodness is coded into their genes. It's not like they were raised to be sweet and goofy, but a bunch of them just choose to become sweet and goofy people despite everything. Food for thought

[sunny44]

She’s mine

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader

Warnings: just a sexy blurb.

Summary: Where Y/n makes a plan to get Max to finally admit that he likes her.

The night was young, and the vibrant atmosphere of the club pulsed with electrifying energy. I walked across the dance floor, my scandalous red dress capturing the attention of everyone around me. I knew I was being excessive, but sometimes, being subtle simply wasn't an option.

My eyes met Charles's across the dance floor, and a mischievous smile played on his lips as I approached him. I knew Charles was Max's friend, and we had exchanged messages earlier for me to explain my plan to make Max act once and for all.

"Charles.” I said, my sweet voice laden with a suggestive tone. "Having fun?"

Charles winked, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly what I as up to, and he was more than willing to help.

"Loads, but eager to see Max's reaction to your plan.” Y/n laughed, a melodious sound that echoed over the thumping music.

"Thanks for helping me, by the way. Your friend is a slowpoke."

"Yeah, I thought he would have made a move by now with the way you two act."

"Me too." He laughed, and I noticed Max finding me in the middle of the crowd, his smile evident as soon as he saw who was with me. So, I leaned close to Charles's ear and spoke. “Max is not liking what he's seeing right now. Do you think we should dance and make him even more jealous?"

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

And so, the two of us began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the music as my plan unfolded. I could feel Max's eyes on me, and it was exactly what I wanted.

I was determined to make him finally take action.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the dance floor, Max watched with jealous eyes ablaze. He knew I was flirting with Charles, and he couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions consuming him.

He navigated through the crowd to the DJ booth, where Martin commanded the beats.

"Martin, turn off the music.” he ordered, his voice heavy with urgency.

"What? Why?"

"Just turn off the music for a minute, please.” he said, somewhat irritated.

Martin raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding that something important was happening.

With the music dimmed, all eyes turned to Max as he pointed to Y/n, who was now illuminated by the spotlight, her red dress shining like a blazing flame in the club's darkness.

"Are you all seeing that girl?" Max's voice echoed through the club, and besides the light, he also pointed his finger at me. "Talk to her, look at her, or breathe near her, and you'll have a problem with me. She's mine."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as Max's eyes locked onto me, a wild intensity that made me tremble slightly.

But then I saw Charles's mischievous smile, and I knew it had all been worth it.

My heart raced as I saw Max coming towards me, maneuvering through the people who had started dancing again when Martin had turned the music back on.

"Max..."

He took my hands, pulling me close to him, and kissed me, and it was one of those breath-taking kisses.

"I know I've been an idiot all this time, procrastinating instead of asking you to be my girlfriend, but I can't deny anymore what I feel for you."

"Finally.” I say, and he looks at me surprised. "You really are an idiot, I had to plan with Charles to make you jealous so that you finally admitted out loud that you want me as your girlfriend."

"You two planned this?"

"Obviously, don't get me wrong, Charles is hot but not really my type."

"And what's your type?"

"Dutch, world champion, and completely clueless when a hot girl is after him." He laughs and pulls me closer.

"There are plenty of hot girls after me."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one who will get something else out of you." I whispered back and saw the hairs on his neck stand up.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Definitely."

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen instagram stories

“She’s definitely mine”

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

headcanon: youre a new student at an MMA academy that the tf141 runs.

its just price in this one, but everyone will be present at a later point :))

the first time you walk into the gym, youre all wide eyed and nervous, the world of martial arts a part of your distant past. but with the state of the world you figured that some self defense classes were a necessity, lest you end up battered and bruised in an alleyway somewhere.

When you walk in, the gym is shockingly neat and clean, windows shining and floormats soft and new. you weren't exaxtly sure what to expect, but this was a pleasant surprise.

the prior class was finishing up, children running about and throwing punches at the punching bags scattered around the gym.

at the forefront was a man, broad shouldered and handsome...in a dilf-y sort of way (not that you were complaining!!) with a grin shockingly similar to a quokka, you thought to yourself with a small huff of laughter.

he must be the coach you had been in contact with for a bit to set up the trial class. John, you believe it was?

"ALRIGHT, first person to knock me over wins. You get two kicks each!" John calls out, his voice booming yet kind.

Laughter echoes throughout the gym as the children attempt to knock him down, but he remains still as a statue, evidence of the years of strength he gained.

A few minutes later the class finishes up, and you make your way over (a tad bit nervously) to introduce yourself.

"Hi! Um, I'm here for the trial class, I think I spoke to you over the phone?" you say, sticking out your hand for him to shake.

He smiles warmly, clasping your hand in his and giving it a firm shake.

'That's right, John Price, it's a pleasure. Welcome to Task Force Training Academy, I have a feeling you fit right in. Have you ever done anything like this?" he asks.

"Not...really? I mean, I did boxing for a few months last year but my skills are nothing to write home about. Taekwondo too, but that feels like a lifetime ago," you say with a nervouse chuckle.

"You chose the right class then, kickboxing combines a lot of skills from both of those disciplines," he says, clasping your shoulder in a friendly manner. "You did good," he says, and you feel yourself flush a bit.

"Th-thanks," you say, and wince at the stutter in your words, but John only smiles down at you.

"Do you have any hand wraps? Boxing gloves?" he asks, letting go of your shoulder. Somehow you already miss the warmth.

"I have hand wraps from boxing, but that's it," you say, shrugging.

"That won't be a problem, we have plenty of gloves you can borrow," he says, before you hear a bell ring out.

"Ah, class is starting. Just grab a jump rope for the five minute warm-up," he says, pointing toward the wall where a collection of jump ropes were before taking his place at the front of the room.

Grabbing one quickly, you hurry to an open spot and begin.

~

...5 minute feel like an eternity.

You're painting like a dog in the heat, your face warm with exertion as the timer finally finishes.

"Don't worry," John says with a deep chuckle. It was unfair how velvety smooth his voice was. "We'll get your endurance up in no time."

Somehow you feel your face heat up even further, and glance at anywhere but John's devastatingly blue eyes.

"I have no doubt," you murmur before rushing to put the jump rope back.

"Okay, we'll start out with partner work. Usually I would start with bag work but since we have a new member," he gestures toward you, and you wave awkwardly to the rest of the class, "I thought it might be best to return to the basics. Pair up, and we'll work on the basic punches first. Jab, cross, hook, et cetera. Go ahead," he says, before turning towards you.

"You, my dear, will be working with me. Let's see how much boxing stuck, hm?" he says. "Gloves are over there, grab a pair and we can begin."

"Yessir," you squeak, the prospect of training with the head coach a bit daunting.

"No need to be nervous," he says, nudging you lightly toward the shelves where the gloves were. "I just wanna get a grasp of how much you know, and what we need to work on, yeah?" he says with a kind smile, and you nod before grabbing a pair of gloves to use.

The one glove goes on without issue, but the other glove betrays you. The strap you struggle with, hand motions limited to crab movements as you try to grasp it enough to attach the velcro.

You hear John laugh lightly again as he watches you struggle before he grasps your hand in his, doing the strap for you.

"Thank you, coach," you say, and he hums in response, eyes seemingly lost in thought for a moment before refocusing on you.

"Let's begin, yeah?"

You nod in response, moving to a more centralized area of the gym. You move into the fighting stance you remember, and he nods approvingly.

"Good, that stance is what I like to see. Do you remember your jab?" he asks, and you hesitantly throw out a punch you recall being called a jab.

"There you go. Try adjusting your wrist to a vertical position rather than a twisting out. Its not incorrect, and I'm sure that's how you learned it, but," he explains, grabbing your gloved hand for a moment. "When your punch is horizontal, your wrist wants to take the majority of the impact. Instead, we want it vertically, so that the impact is distributed throughout the forearm all the way down to the elbow," he says, his fingertip barely ghosting down your arm, but it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

You nod, the heat in your face no longer just from exertion anymore. Adjusting your stance, he holds out the pad for you to hit again, and you listen to his advice.

A delighted grin splits his face at the impact.

"Atta girl, you listen well," he says, and you mutter out a "thanks".

Holy HELLS, the temperature in the room felt like it was rising by the second.

In your embarrassment, you fail to notice the slightly smug expression on John's face, your reactions priceless.

Recovering, you reset, glancing back up at him as he nods.

"Again."

a/n: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT BLURB, RAHHHHH. i was supposed to stusy half an hour ago :/ anyway, this fic is purely because i had my trial class for kickboxing today lol, and is almost based entirely on true events :p (though yknow, the coach was not john price and flirting with me, :/)

ANYWAY, i might start a series of this...we'll see what happens :))

[liyahin4k]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡 || pt 2 ||

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

“Girllll you are on fireee” angel your friend laughed shoving her phone in your face. You took it confuse when you did you saw there was a picture took of you and Paige having the conversation after the game and some were of the eye contact you too had that night.

“People get on my nerves sometimes,and you’re one of them” you mumbled walking past her “you know you love me” she giggled following after you “yeah,yeah” you rolled your eyes.

You walked to your room when you got a phone call from you agent “hey what’s up” you answered “you free tonight” she asked hope in her voice “yeah why”. “Great I was hoping you would do an appearance tonight at some club,it’s really cool you’ll be in and out promis” she plead “yeah and the last time you said that you got me drunk” you laughed.

“This time I promise there will be no alcohol” she chuckled You paused thinking about it it has been a while since you been out or made any appearances. “Sure”

(Ur outfit,you can imagine something else if you like)

Paige/3rd pov

“Come onnn it’s just one night please” kk cried. She had wanted to got out sense they had a free night and there was nothing else to do azzi,ice,and nika had already agreed to going but they were all waiting on Paige now.

“I said no” she told them not looking up from her phone and what she was looking at may you ask..edits..of you.

Some were from the your new movie and some were form interviews. All she could do was admire your beauty with a soft smile “whyyyy you’ve been locked up in here for days,live a little” kk cried plopping down next to Paige “it wouldn’t be a party without youuu” kk sang trying to convince her. Paige signed putting down her phone looking at her “if I say yes will you shut up”.

“Yes” kk rushed out with a smile “fine I’ll go,but you’re paying for my drinks”.

Pulling out the club they saw how crowded it was with a sigh Paige got out the car following after everyone “who knew it was gonna be the crowded” azzi wondered. “I think I know why” kk mumbled eyes wide staring ahead “what are you-“ Paige breathed hitched.

You were walking towards the club fans and paparazzi screaming your name as you smiled and waved trying to make your way through. Her breath almost stopped when your eyes met hers you smiled at before turning to angel telling her something before making your way toward her.

“B-be cool” she turned to everyone behind her panicking “more like you be cool” azzi laughed everyone else laughed with her. “Hi” you smiled stopping in front of her her mouth was opened but nothing came out.

Kk hit her back snapping her out of it “hi” she blushed “what are you doing here” you ask softly laughing at her face “uhh p-partying” she answered leaning her Hand on the wall beside her clearing her throat trying to keep her cool. “She losing it” kk mumbled to the others she all nodded agreeing watching their friend make a full of herself.

“In line” you asked confused “yeah-I m-mean no were waiting” she rushed out you plinked at her. “okayy” you answered confused,you paused for a moment looking at how long the line was you softly smiled looking back at her.

“How about you all come with me,I could even get you in VIP if you want” “WHAT” they all shouted surprise “w-what WE mean is you don’t have to do that right” Paige softly shouted looking back at them. They all looked away mumbling to each other.

Paige rolled her eyes looking back at you “it really no problem besides it just me and my friend” you pointed behind you were angel was with the paparazzi snapping as many photos as they could get of you and Paige “you sure” she asked “ totally,it no problem” you smiled taking her hand in your walking towards the entrance, the rest following behind her with smiles on my faces.



(I know it’s a little short but the next will be a little longer andddd..Paige gonna get a little jealous 🤭)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Congrats on 1k! Could you please do Simon Riley with SFW Alphabet. I need all the *feels* please! :)

Thank you! And I can certainly bring the feels.

Simon is such a complex and interesting character. I love reading and analyzing other peoples' headcanons about him. Everyone has a different take on the character, and this bit is just me rambling. Thanks for sending the request in!

Word Count: 1.3k

1k Follower Event Rules

SFW Alphabet Template

ao3 // taglist // 1k follower event masterlist // main masterlist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

For Simon to show affection, there must be trust. Whether a friend or lover, Simon needs time to build a solid relationship with someone before he drops some of those walls. If he’s cracking jokes with you, you have Simon’s respect and trust. Simon isn’t a gift giver, but he does listen, which is his greatest strength. His form of affection is listening to you mention something off-handedly, and then doing the thing that you need without asking.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Simon would be an awesome best friend, but getting there would take time. Those barriers need to come down first. How would a friendship start? By you adopting him as your new best friend without him having a say. Just look at how his relationship starts with Soap. I don’t think I need to say more.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Simon enjoys cuddles with a romantic partner. Does he enjoy it all the time? No. Not really. He’s more of a “use me as a pillow and I won’t move” sort of person, but after falling asleep? He’ll curl up next to you immediately.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Simon absolutely wants to settle down but isn’t particularly worried about when. Just because he wears a mask, is lethal in the field, and has trauma doesn’t mean he doesn’t want the things that come with settling down. He knows he can be a better partner and a better father than what he grew up with. Simon is immaculate in the field, and I can’t see him not bringing that into his everyday life. Cleaning is a chore to him but he’s efficient. Cooking is hit or miss. Terrible or just okay at most things, but he’s particularly good at a few things.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Quick and blunt. Simon doesn’t mince words. He’s to the point, even if it hurts him (or you).

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Simon longs for commitment. He needs trust to build friendship and then a relationship beyond that. How quick? That depends. Simon will either know right away or it might dawn on him suddenly.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Simon knows when and how to be gentle. Sure, he’s a beast of a man, but there is a reason he often stands back and listens before speaking. This man processes information quickly and knows what needs to happen depending on the situation. That doesn’t mean he always gets it right. Physically, not a problem. Emotionally, Simon struggles sometimes with making the correct call.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not a hugger. Hates hugs. If Simon is hugging you, you’ve won.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Quickly, if Simon knows what he wants. Simon will say it deliberately, but it might slip during a moment of passion.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Simon can get jealous but only when he thinks someone is moving in on what he believes is his. If this is a romantic partner, that jealousy isn’t directed at them but at the person trying to weasel their way in.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Passionate. Rough. All-consuming. Simon likes kissing the palm of your hand or the inside of your wrist. He loves it when you trail kisses down his neck.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s good with kids. Simon is the guy at the function that all the kids climb and jump on because he doesn’t put up a fuss. He’s a big tree for them to hang on. Outwardly, he might seem annoyed, but Simon enjoys it.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depends. If there are things to do Simon will easily fall into routine. If there is nothing planned for the day, Simon loves a lazy, cozy morning.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

When he’s not working, Simon enjoys his sleep. He’d be the one trying to drag you to bed. If you’re with him, he doesn’t want to sleep alone.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Simon is slow to reveal things. Trust takes time with him, and even those he deeply trusts don’t know everything about him. For Simon, it depends on the person. He trusts Soap and Gaz, but he’d not going to dump his entire history on them. Price, for example, likely knows a lot more. If Simon is dating someone or married, that too will likely be different.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Simon is not quick to anger. Even in the field he’s mostly a calm cucumber with a bit of spicy pickling when he wants to appear intimidating. For Simon to get angry—like actually angry—there has to be a betrayal of some kind.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Simon doesn’t forget anything. He listens, he hears, he processes, and makes decisions. He considers everything important and if he cares about you, what you say matters. He’d remember your coffee order, the birthdays of your immediate family members, and even the things you say in passing.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Simon’s favorite moment in your relationship is when you said “I love you” back to him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Extremely protective. Because of his military career, Simon views threats differently from the average person. Old enemies might come circling back, but he’s more worried about your personal safety. He’s likely to make sure you’re hammering something in the wall correctly than watching your every step.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tons of effort to the point it almost appears seamless to you. I keep stating this over and over again, but Simon is a listener. He keeps tracks of everything in his head, especially dates and any anniversaries, and knows what to gift you because he’ll hear something you mention off-handedly and then just present it like it’s not a big deal. Every day tasks are not an issue for him. If something needs done, Simon does it and you don’t need to make him a “list.” Nah. Simon sees a task and completes it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Might shut down if he feels cornered or attacked. Will not listen if you try to give him directions and he’s the one driving. Smoking just to keep his hands occupied.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Simon is not vain. He is cocky, and he knows he’s attractive, but he doesn’t obsess over it. Skincare routine? Yes, but it’s simple.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Partially. Simon is used to being alone and working alone. That isn’t new for him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Major sweet tooth. Loves chocolate cake.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dishonesty. Lack of accountability.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Simon is a dead body in bed. When he’s asleep, you cannot move him, and he tends to spread out.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving

@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98

@kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000

@cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado

@rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82

@no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics

@ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow

@kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi

@lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[amirasainz]

Hi! In honor of mother's day in some parts of the world would you do either one (or both?) of the following?

Option A: how the sainz family celebrate Mother's day

Option B: how the drivers try and woo mama reyes to help them hide their crimes (of wooing Amira) from Carlos Senior and Junior

Thank you! No pressure to do both, you can just do oneee

Happy Late Mothers Day, everyone! I chose option B because it was such a sweet idea.

Feedback is always welcome and send some requests.

-XoXo

Mother knows best

Charles:

♡ would buy Mama Sainz a Yacht

♡ it would go like

♡"You can choose any Yacht you like, Reyes. Or should I say Mama?"

♡ the problem would be that everyone loves Charles

♡ even Reyes began to like him

Lando:

♡ would always bring her flowers

♡ on the paddock he would be the first one to greet her, bring her coffee, give her VIP tickets

♡ would talk with her about Amira

♡ "No wonder Amira has such good manners, you taught her well"

♡ "Amira get's all her beauty from her Mother, doesn't she"

♡ Lando would even learn Spanish

♡ and for Reyes, it's the thought that counts

Lewis:

♡ oh boy, everyone is a Lewis Hamilton fans

♡ people fall left and right for him

♡ Lewis would give Reyes vacations on Bali and an apartment in New York

♡ would bring her to the fashion shows and the Met Gala

♡ Carlos Sr is already respecting Lewis a lot, which helps him with Reyes

♡ "You can wear any color. Anything looks good on you"

♡ then he would give her this boyish smile

♡ would also give her a special post on mothers-day

Max:

♡ it would be very hard for Max to gain some cookie points from Reyes

♡ but when he admitted how hard it was growing up without a mum, she would take him under her wing

♡ how can you not pity that boy

♡ Reyes would even go as far as to invite Max to family gatherings

♡ Max would even try to talk to Christian about signing Carlos for the seat

♡ which makes Mama Sainz very happy

Oscar:

♡ I feel like Oscar would try to woo Abuela Sainz, not Mama Sainz

♡ it would be during a race weekend and Abuela is also there

♡ she would like Oscars sarcasm

♡ and that he is such a good person

♡ Reyes wouldn't be Oscars biggest fan

♡because Carlos is after all her baby boy

♡ but Abuela thinks Oscar would be the perfect husband for Amira

♡ Oscar also promised Abuela that they would live in Spain after their marrige

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 15

Summary: things are no good.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit. Dead dove do not eat

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit dark content, kidnapping, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of stealing money, degradation (not for sexual play), spitting, hitting, pinching, slapping, restraining, mocking, blood, human auction, forced removal of IUD, realization of voyeurism, sexual recordings without knowledge, dark imagery 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Rage. Blinding hot rage that boils every ounce of his blood. Hating himself doesn’t even cover it. Leaving you the way he did as a broken shell of the woman that he first met. You had shown resilience to his impossible needs. You had fallen so hard, and he still withheld how he truly felt for you.

The threat was enough to not just chill him all the way to the core of his being, but the video — whoever it was had caught him. Caught exactly what you meant to him on video. Words he had never spoken in years, and they had the evidence. Coupled with the threat of not only you, but Bucky’s Shy Violet. His unborn son. And Steve could not be responsible for that much pain.

Steve can barely see as he flees the hotel he left you in. A crumpled mess. A true depiction of the barren wasteland he left your heart. People don’t love as deeply as you did, and have someone rip it out with scars that may never heal. He’s an example of that. And he did it to the only person who he had ever truly been in love with.

He meant every word to you this morning, even the ones you would never hear. Why did this person, this entity hate him so much that he would threaten three people that had no part in this scheme? He had to tell Bucky. He also had to be able to visually see, and he can’t put anything into words except the red hot coils of desire to burn down the world.

Questioning if what he did was the right answer. He was told they knew his weakness, and you would be removed from his life. He beat them to it. He took away the person that they knew was his the one that would destroy him. But who? Who hated him that much to want to destroy him? Clearly it was competition but there was only one person, or people that were competitive with Steve.

“Sam?” The other man sighs. Hearing Steve's voice as wrecked as it was didn’t take much to realize what the idiot had done. “Who’s watching her?”

“You put Loki outside. Told him to watch her for a few weeks. Said that you figured she would move on. But you’re a fucking idiot.”

“They,” he yanks the steering wheel to the side of the road, throwing his car into park before pressing his palms into his eyes, and wills the tears to not spill over his lashes, “They were going to kill her and Bucky’s Shy, and…your family.”

“Figured as much. I told Nat to get the kids to the safe house. Just like you should have done with Dove. With her and Bucky there everyone would have been safe. You’re too fucking irrational. You don’t think. You should have discussed with me, and we could have came up with a plan. But you didn’t like that I heard what you said,” Steve pulls at wads of his hair, and he slams his fist on the steering wheel. “Love doesn’t make you weak.”

“I told you that you didn’t hear anything,” still in this world of denial and wanting to protect his ego. His pride? Protect anything but the person he truly cared about. You.

“You love her. You’re a coward that couldn’t even tell her to her fucking face. Is a million dollars really going to make up for what you did? You’re the problem here, Steve. She was the solution. Go back. Go get her, and I’ll take her to the safe house. I’ll leave Nat and Bucky with the kids, and Shy, and we will figure out what the fuck is going on,” Steve shakes his head. You hated him. He made sure to make you feel worthless to him, and hope that one day you could move on.

The thought of another man touching your flesh sears into his mind. Thinking this dumbass could ever hold you and love you the way he did. It was a toxic love, but he found serenity in your bright glow. The devil came to find his goddess of spring. The link that kept his underground hell blooming into the most beautiful chaotic garden.

Every morning he could see the sun shining on your face like you were the beacon, and it was trying to find you. But instead, Steve did. He tried to dim every bit of your light, and instead you changed him. And how did he repay you? He left you, his beautiful goddess, a void. Gave you every opportunity to turn into the darkness that he helped flourish. Instead, you were making him lighter.

You had a link to the depravity of his world that was Lark, and one wrong move and you would become a demon to addiction. A beautiful woman lively turned into a servant for drugs and the underbelly that he helped create. Try and be noble all he wants, he still sold a lie to users. He catered to the whims of one of the most powerful things in the world. Addiction.

“Sam,” he says as he starts to turn the car around. “I made a mistake.”

“Get your girl. I’m calling Bucky. We’ll keep her safe, and we finish this once and for all. It’s time,” without hesitation and very little thought Steve knows exactly where the threat came from. Peggy. The one who set this all off to begin with. No doubt a woman who thought she had broken Steve would be infuriated that he had managed to actually fall this time. The purest form of love. Childlike. He was in fact so in love with you it hurt him.

Pained every inch of his inky skin. He was only trying to let his Dove out of her cage, and let her fly alone. He was no longer the cage that kept you trapped. He was made pure again, and was a dove right along with you. He wasn’t meant to set you free, he was meant to fly out of his own cage with you.

He fucked up. He knows you may never forgive him for this whiplash, but if it meant that you were going to keep your life, that was the burden he would have to bear. He would carry the weight of that on his back for the rest of eternity as long as he knew you were alive and well. He had to. Because he was in love.

You don’t cry. You barely blink. Couldn’t even move to clean yourself off as per his request. That towel lays haphazardly on his spilt cum, and you stare up at the ceiling trying to make this a nightmare. He was a liar. That wasn’t Steve, and as much as you wanted to cut etches of his story off his skin, you wanted him to hold you even more.

It is a bizarre feeling to hate and need the same person. Time has no meaning on this bed. Earlier today you saw him for the man he used to be before Peggy tried to destroy him. And then he burned that man at the stake as he became the monster you first met. The lord of the underworld, and he brought you down into his depths, but maybe it was all one sided.

Watching as the room spins around you in a humiliating and dizzying haze. It’s why he couldn’t look at you. He has fought and fought his true feelings, and because he couldn’t accept them he had to remove the seed that was sprouting in his heart. The seed that was changing winter into spring and you saw lightness and color that once resided inside of his soul.

You hate him. And still, you’re in love with him, and you need him to hold you and tell you that wasn’t him. That he was sorry, and he was so in love with you and he was done fighting, and you doubt that moment will ever come. If you could close your eyes and never wake up that would be the most fitting. You didn’t want to see anything anymore.

“Dove?” Your eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling, and you swear there’s a pattern to the odd appearance of it. Dots that you feel are just the stars, and they’re covering you in a warm blanket. As warm as the fuzz that is thrown over your body.

“Sissy, how much money did he leave you?” Your blinks start to slow down, and you hope that they’ll eventually close forever so you don’t have this sickening feeling in your stomach. “I’m going to take this and invest in — things, yeah. You don’t need it. You’ve got your school you can bounce back on, okay?”

If there is one thing you wished it was that Steve could have quit fighting the inevitable. That he would have just admitted the feelings he had for you, and the two of you could run away. Money and power are just as dark of an addiction as the drugs he sold. And he was letting his addiction win.

“Won’t you let me get you dressed. You don’t want to leave here naked. And — he didn’t love you. That mess on your stomach is how he treats the girls he threw away at the club. Used their warm flesh to fill a need, and then…”

“You’re lying,” your eyes finally focus on your sister, and you turn and look away from her quickly. She no longer was the vibrant older sister you once knew. Either Steve had been lying about your addiction and usage, or she had found another supplier. “What happened to you?”

“You should look in the mirror,” you didn’t want to look at your face. You’d look like a bird with clipped wings that could no longer fly because that’s just what you feel like. “Get dressed.”

“What are you doing with the money?” You inquire. But she doesn’t respond just goes towards your bag, and opens up one. Tossing over a dress, and you finally take stock of what’s going on. Sitting up in the bed so see her clinging to the bag with cash in it. The stupor you were once in now is a dull pain of the past hour. “Lark?”

The door opens up to your room, and scramble to cover yourself. You know him. “Dovey, it’s time for you to go. He’s been waiting on you,” tears flood out your eyes as you shake your head. “You really want him to see you with Steve’s cum on your stomach. Your pussy fucked out, and tits hanging out? Now,” he clicks his tongue, snapping a finger at Lark, and your sister scurries out of the hotel room.

“It’s just you and me,” grabbing at your foot, he pulls you down to him and you kick and scream. Biting every time his hands touch you. Your reason to fight became apparent because whatever is wrong is worse than the empty gut you have now. “He threw you away!”

“Fuck you!”

“Keep fighting me, and it’s you that’s going to be fucked,” clearing his throat your room is flooded with men, and they all close in on you, struggling to hold on to your body before with one snap, you go into blackness. A darker world than you have ever ventured to. A world where things will never be the same. Left and broken, now stolen and restored. Fight is still there.

Steve sprints to your bedroom, racing through every part of it. Knowing without seeing physically that you’re gone. His hands pick up and throw everything in its path. Destroying the room just like he destroyed you. The luggage with clothes is still here, but the suitcase with money was gone.

Lifting up the mattress he flips it over, standing in the fucking room that was devoid of you. You were gone, and he can’t shake the feeling that you were taken. Stolen from this room, and from — he can’t even say himself anymore. Because he left you. You weren’t his to steal. He fucked up.

Chest heaving as his mind races on where you could be. He has an idea of who took you and it sickens him. He sees what Lark has become. Rumlow was the worst kind of drug dealer, because he dealt in more than just drugs, he dealt in women.

“Steve.”

“I fucked up,” he turns around. Eyes pleading at Bucky. “Why are you here?”

“Sam’s with the girls. I’m risking my life and the chance to see my future son because I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You fucked up, but I can’t let you wonder your what ifs or wonder where she is. I can’t let you lose the love of your life,” Steve shakes his head, the anger turning into the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life. As the last of his humanity is wrenched from his fingers. “Why can’t you say it? Does she mean that little to you?”

“She means more than any amount fucking words, Bucky. She means everything. Shy and Ember were threatened. Nat and the girls, and a lot don’t even know that Sam and Nat are together and have kids. Why do they want her?”

“They’re trying to make your kingdom crumble. The dark lord of the seedy underbelly. Ruled by fear and power. For a drug lord you had some morals, if that’s what you want to call it. And there’s…”

“Peggy,” Steve gulps, glancing around the room that is as messy as his head. Disheveled in every crevice. He has to clear his mind if he’s ever going to find you.

“I want you to make me a promise,” Steve nods. Taking a few deep breaths to center himself. It ends now. He won’t hold back. It’s time to burn the world down to save you. Rumlow’s entire organization will disintegrate. He doesn’t even care where the two of you end up. He needs to know you’re alive, and living the life you want. And he hopes you still can find a place to put him in it.

“If we find Dove, I need you to tell her exactly how you feel, you coward. Quit waiting until the girl falls asleep before you say it.”

“Deal.”

“Let’s go save a dove.”

You could look at Steve trying to destroy you as a good thing. There’s a numbness that courses through your veins, or maybe it’s just a sleepy fog since the moment he walked out that door. Staring at the sleeping form of the man that tattooed you while your arms are restrained above your head, you wonder how you slipped this far into this world of darkness. Your will to fight dormant and resting. Now you observe. Paying attention to everything while you remember every bit of this moment. Something eventually had to help.

You don’t hate Steve. In fact the reason he did what he did seems to be to avoid this bullshit right here. Protecting you from whatever this hell is, but he failed. He let the wrong one watch you. And your own sister somehow played a part. You’d cuss him for the fool that he is when he comes to rescue you. And then allow your exhaustion and anger to rain down him with a fury that is hibernating.

Your eyes start to droop a bit. The adrenaline and heart shattering moments hitting a climax so high that your body is spent. There is no time for fear, and no time for anger. It’s survival. Steve would find you, and you would kick him in his perfect balls for ever hurting you. Even though the idea of him throwing that door open to save you like a scarred Prince Charming was looking damn fine, you can’t ignore what he did.

“How long has it been?” A sickeningly sweet voice walks into the room, and her beady eyes look you up and down. “What is she wearing?”

“Whatever I could put on her. You said you didn’t want Rumlow to see her the way I found her. You’re still so concerned with him leaving you for someone else?” His head bounces to the side with the force of the smack she connects to his face. “Why else do you need her covered?”

“I don’t need to see what cunt Steve’s been shagging. Pretending that she was the only one while he was fucking Rumlow’s whores at the club,” you roll your eyes, but refuse to comment. Sam kept tabs on Steve, and even told you he’s never seen him so much as glance at another woman. Her tactics of wearing you down were futile. You couldn’t sink any lower. The bottom has already been reached and all in a few short hours.

“You’ve been fucking like rabbits, and he still hasn’t fucked a baby in you?” You spit on her, gaining a slap against your own cheek. Her red painted nail wipes of your saliva from her face before she embarrassingly rubs it on your face.

“That’s rich coming from a double crossing bitch. You can only smack me when I can’t fight back?”

“You’re a bitchy one, aren’t ya? So tell me, sweet princess, how have you remained without a bastard?”

“It’s called birth control, you idiot.”

“One I need to cut out of your arm? Or rip it out from between your legs? Or do you trust the pill?” What the fuck was this woman getting off on? You aren’t even sure what her fucking problem was, or why it concerned you so much. “Rumlow has suffered with his business, while Steve flourishes. He needs to be destroyed, but I much prefer slow torture,” her fingernails connect to your arm, and she uses far too much pressure to slide all over the delicate skin of your arms before her eyes zone in on your lower body.

”Remove it.”

“What the fuck? No!”

“Stick another fucking needle in her neck and remove it,” she is psychotic. More than Steve could have ever realized. “You know your pretty sister? Yeah, it was easy to break her spirit. It’s funny what money and drugs can get people to do. What would destroy Steve? To see you broken from another human. To see you as a ghost of who you were. A zombie that he can’t even recognize. You know how many people are willing to bid for Steve’s precious Dove? Use your body to work out their frustrations on their biggest competition. Your sister sold you out for money and drugs, but the good thing is she is no longer being pimped out. But you — Steve will never want you again. Remove it. She can be someone else’s problem.”

Her stilettos click out of your room, and Loki stands up to walk closer to you. You flail, screaming out obscenities and no towards him. Having very little room to get any leverage over him. They were all fucking mental. “No! Don’t touch me.”

”It’ll only sting for a minute. You keep getting stuck with this, you’re going to have a bigger problem,” his voice is cloying in your ear as he grabs your face. Coming closer to you with a needle before it drives into your body.

“No! No! Please, no!” Another wave of blackness. Falling into an oblivion of a dark void that has no end in sight. Whispering out, “No,” one more time, and crying because no one can hear you. Being stripped away from the only salvation you knew, and now becoming the exact opposite of what Steve desired the most in you. Untouched. She wanted to sell you, auction you off while Steve can either be searching for you, or pretending you never existed.

You just want to go home. Home to the cabin, and pretend that he was coming home to you. Hold onto happy moments while your humanity is ripped from you. You hate her.

Your head lulls back on your shoulders, and the dingy light of the room tries to filter through the darkness, and you try to grasp it. Hoping that light can save your soul from the monster Peggy was forcing you to become. You hate her.

He didn’t like it. He hated it. Hated that you were ever put in this position, and he had himself more to blame than anyone. The very thought of something going wrong just wasn’t an option. He didn’t need anything to go wrong. He needed you. He needs to know that you are okay, and you were free to live a life.

The thoughts of you choosing a life that didn’t include him was on his mind, but he couldn’t think of that. Everything had to be perfectly planned out. He knew that Peggy was a vindictive bitch, while Rumlow was a pathetic one. He assumes that they’re hoping for an appearance by him.

It wasn’t a secret what they were doing. Everyone knew they were putting you up for auction. The reception went from an absolutely no because they knew Steve’s vengeance would be grisly to the ones that were drooling and licking their jowls at a chance to fuck Steve over. But retaliation would happen. To all of them. There would be a retribution on every single person that participates in the selling of you.

Every last one of them will get the fiery death of his dreams, and if you wanted to facilitate he would let you watch as they all burn. He failed in the one thing he promised above all else and that was to protect you. He’d make it up. He would get you. Or he would watch it all burn.

—

There’s moments in your life where you freeze up. Your body goes into autopilot, and you’re just there. Going through the motions. While your body is numb to every poke, prod, and movement by someone else. Your mind is on high alert. Listening to every door open. Absorbing every conversation. Your eyes take stock of all that is around you. Memorize every face as you dream about their demise.

You knew there would come a time when you had to identify people because you still hadn’t given up hope that Steve would keep his promise. Rumlow was a boastful idiot and he was letting everyone know who he was going to have up on that stage. Steve would hear about it, and you didn’t doubt that he would have fun in taking care of everything.

That’s not to say that you didn’t want to add another scar on Steve’s body, and you wanted to scratch him, and maul his perfect face, but you need him to wrap those stupid beefy arms around you and carry you out of this disgusting place. You know if you allow your mind to go into the dark places that you would lose all hope, and you’d never stop crying. Or worse become the devil Peggy was trying to make you.

You didn’t even speak to them when they’d ask you questions. You’d just stare at them blankly as they pinched, slapped, and pushed you around. You wouldn’t allow yourself to let them break you. Not yet. When this is all over you could have those moments of clarity, but right now it’s just to survive. And that meant focusing on everything.

You even knew it took Loki exactly thirty-four steps to get to the chair that set outside of your cage. And another forty-two steps to get to the door. You knew that he was the biggest coward of all, and needed to hide behind a more powerful man. Scheming and lying through his teeth while he collects secrets and information as his own form of currency.

He was loathsome. Peggy was the worst bitch you had ever met in your life. A woman who didn’t want Steve, and also couldn’t bare to see him happy with another woman. The kind of woman whose ego got in the way of the bigger picture. While Rumlow was describable he had bigger reasons for doing this. Peggy’s reasons didn’t go past needing to make Steve feel emasculated.

Disgusting woman, all dolled up for a pretty picture. Steve wasn’t a hero, but he could admit it. She wants to act like there was a moral high ground that she was part of, and still involved with another drug lord. That man just didn’t ask questions. You’d come to learn that Steve did, and that’s why Peggy had to ruin him.

“Are you still sore?” It is a stupid question when your arms were always extended above your head, the fact that she made people remove something so personal from you. Sore didn’t even begin to describe it. “You still mad at me, princess? And if you fucking spit on me again…”

You roll your eyes up to meet her, a sinister smile tugging at your mouth. “Ghastly woman. It’s what you deserve. You can pay for Steve’s sins. They always do,” another one of her tactics is to make you think you were nothing but a fleshlight to Steve. But you knew better. “Do you know how many girls that he has made become a sex worker? Rumor has it he filmed porn right in the club.”

Blah blah blah. You did actually talk to Steve. You also listened. It’s something she didn’t do well. Cocky little bitches never wanted to be the quiet little girls that people think aren’t threatening. Like you. She sees a weak submissive bird. You weren’t weak, and you weren’t dumb. You had more knowledge than she could even fathom about the ongoings of Steve’s enterprise. And there’s one thing she forgets, those sex workers Steve employed had a choice. She had removed yours.

“Are you going to play your game of not talking again?” Smirking, you roll your eyes before concentrating on her shoes. You weren’t going to give her the respect to look her in her face. “You’re such a spoiled child. Did your daddy Steve not spank you enough?”

“Nope,” Steve was not your daddy. He was your Captain.

“You do speak,” god, she’s a pompous twat. If she was closer you would spit on her, just for telling you not to.

“I don’t make it habit of talking to trollops,” with a painted red nail, she slaps you across the face, and your mouth fills with the pungent taste of metal. You gather it in your mouth, waiting. She is already getting closer to you.

“You fucking bitch. I will enjoy seeing you sold, and I will revel in the ways that they use your body to fuck over Steve. And that man never cared for you. You were just warm wet flesh,” one step too close to you, and you let her feel the blood she brought with her slap. The red paints her neck such a brilliant color and you chuckle, “You were just a whore to him. Let him fuck you raw. Intimately. Wanna see?”

Spinning on her heels, she snaps a finger at Loki, “I want Steve fucking her stupid on a loop. Let her watch every moment that was ever a lie. Break her fucking spirit, so she knows Steve never loved her. He couldn’t. Because he loved me, and will always look for a replacement. But there's only one me,” if only she knew that the love that Steve felt for her was nothing compared to how he felt about you. You knew it. He told you.

The sound of his voice stings as the monitor is lit up with the two of you. Precious moments stolen, and there is no telling how many people had seen this. You keep your eyes on Steve, more than you ever did while he was pumping into you. Steve never said the words, but he also couldn’t act. The way he stares at you with so much passion and love, versus the anger he had when he broke up with you. Such a lying coward.

You sniffle, refusing to let any tears cloud your vision or run down your face. You were becoming immune to the physical pain, but seeing a private beautiful moment with Steve hurts so deeply. Even the way he paints your skin with his fingers after making love. Yeah, Steve fucked you and would fuck you hard, but what you just witnessed was sweet. Almost like the first time.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Loki staring at you, and you twist your head to gaze back quickly, causing him to flinch. “When you came to our home…”

“It was just a place for him to hide you and fuck you. Don’t make it seem so domestic.”

“Was this your plan all along? Fuck Steve over?” He shrugs his shoulders, moving to turn back around after making a face with Steve’s grunts on the television. “He’ll enjoy torturing you.”

“You think very highly of yourself. Where were you at when I found you? Broken, naked, and used on a bed. Let’s not forget the money your sister stole from you. What do you think she’s going to do with that much money? Face it, Dovey, everyone around you used you and then left you. Steve for your tight cunt, and your sister for money. You’re better off this way.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wouldn’t let him win. Lark’s involvement is the most painful. Your therapist long ago told you drugs changed people. But inside of that body was still your sister. Somewhere.

“Don’t cry, Dove,” he mocks you as a single tear falls from your face. There’s no sincerity in his voice. And you want him to suffer from your own hands. “I finally know what it sounds like,” and you can’t wait to hear him plead for his pathetic life. His time will come.

You gulp as someone pulls on your leash. Fitted with a dog collar, and lingerie. You stare out blankly at the crowd as words about who you are and what the bidding starts off as begins. Faceless people litter a small crowd, and raised paddles keep being held up.

You try and focus on all their faces, see who is bidding the highest, and it is a zoo. Going so fast it makes you dizzy, and you sway on your heels. The price goes too high for average schmucks, and it seems it is a war between two people.

Both the man and woman are masked, and gloved, and neither have Steve’s features. You feel yourself for the first time slipping into despair. Feeling he didn’t actually care at all, and this is the result. Being sold like cattle.

“Two million,” the man say with finality, and the woman shakes her hand, refusing to pay that much. He left you. You really were worthless to him. Played in his stupid games.

“Sold to Mr. Wolf. Come collect your new pet,” the masked man stands up without a word. Pulling the leash from your handler before scooping up in his arms. Vacant. There’s nothing left. Steve left you to rot.

“I’ve got her,” he says into your ear, and it’s a weird sensation, causing goose pimples to arise on your skin. You didn’t have any idea why he was talking to you. You just need to forget the life you once came from.

The harsh light of the outside stings your eyes, and you start to regress in your body. The fight is finally over, and you just are in disbelief. “We’re out of the building. Clint, lock it down. Steve, I’m taking her to the safe house.”

“Steve?” Your body starts to tremble as the tears you have held in for far too long pours out.

“Shh, Dovey. I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re going someplace safe, but Steve and a few others are burning this down. “Do you know if Peggy was in there?”

“She was bidding,” your words are whispered and confused, using a hand to squeeze on his metal arm, “Bucky?”

“I’ve got you. I gotta get you away,” he places you into the car, buckling you up before he gets in the seat himself. “We’re outta here. Send them right back to hell. Dove, were there any other girls up for auction?” You shake your head no, starting to curl into a ball. Your arms are still so stiff and sore. “She was all. You’ve got free range, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth curls into a gruesome grin. Eyes blazing as he heads towards the building, “Peggy is mine. Fucking bitch.”

Next

Masterlist

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[misc-obeyme]

Hey cc

So in the vampire pop quiz I think it was Dia who said something very interesting "looks like they are fixated on mc because mc is the manifestation of their desires" now that did align well with my effort to understand why would all 7 of them be this obsessed lol

Anyway in my head mc goes like guys that's just my idea of how a proper human should be lol pretty sure if any other human ended up here who kinda like hot demons you all would be obsessed about that human too

Anyway, can I request a drabble about this kind of mc not insecure, just not understanding why mc deserving all this attention

Barb would be interesting to drabble about this since it took him sooooo looooong to open up to mc a bit

happy to see you are still having fun with Barbs thirst trap 😎

-🐆

Hi there, 🐆 anon! I apologize for the delay on this - it's been taking me a little longer than I anticipated to get through the drabble requests...

Augh the Barbatos shower picture is going to be the death of me, I swear. I'm still thinking about a nsfw drabble based on one of his lines lkasdfkjfj it's a problem, I swear.

Anyway, here's a Barb drabble with MC not getting why the demons are obsessed with them! I thought it was a cute little scenario. And Barb is just being super romantic as always lol. I can't help it, I am but a humble fluff writer.

Barbatos could see it on your face - a subtle expression that the others might not pick up on. It told him the story of how you were trying your best to hide your own confusion. It was something that happened every time one of the brothers complimented you, when they fought over you, when they expressed this need to always be near you. A slight furrow of your brow, the tiniest downturn of your lips, the fleeting uncertainty that flashed through your eyes.

Ever since your first day in the Devildom, Barbatos had seen this look. He was always watching you. The more he did, the more it became clear to him that you didn't understand why everyone seemed to think there was something special about you.

Perhaps he waited too long. Perhaps he should have mentioned it to you sooner. But you didn't seem distressed. All he ever saw was bafflement. So he let it be for quite some time. Until he finally found himself alone with you when it displayed itself.

Barbatos had been pouring you a cup of tea as he heard about the brothers' latest antics. You were telling him that they had been arguing over who got to work with you on an upcoming school project.

"And then Levi got involved and I had to calm everybody down before Lotan was summoned," you said.

You were looking down at the table, your mind clearly elsewhere, when that expression flashed across your face.

Barbatos put down the teapot. "Does it make you uncomfortable, MC? When they argue over you this way?"

You met his eyes, seemingly startled by his question. "No," you said. "It's a little silly, but it doesn't make me uncomfortable. Why do you ask?"

"It's only that I've noticed the look of confusion you sometimes have in moments like these," Barbatos said. "As if there's something that troubles you about it."

You frowned in thought for a moment. "I guess I just don't understand why they care so much? Why do they think I deserve this much attention? I just act like a regular human would. Why are they so… obsessed?"

Barbatos chuckled. "Do you truly not see? This is exactly what makes you so fascinating."

"I don't know what you mean," you said.

"Despite being a totally unique individual, you still believe you are ordinary," Barbatos said gently. "I have been alive for a long time, MC. I have met many humans. No two are alike. You are not 'regular' because there is no such thing. You are yourself and that is why we love you."

Barbatos was pleased to see that confused look replaced by a soft blush. "You…?" you couldn't finish your question.

Barbatos took your hand and kissed the back of it. "Indeed," he said. "Even I have fallen under your spell. I will remind you of how special you are for the rest of your life if I must."

You laughed, a little taken aback. "I don't think that's going to be necessary."

Barbatos only smiled, your hand still clasped in his. He was content to see such a soft and sweet expression on your face, a glint of happiness in your eyes. Despite what you said, if he ever did see that confusion there again, he would do everything he could to bring your smile back instead.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙥 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 4.2k

warning: explicit content

"she wet in the shower" — gunna

A/N: this was an anonymous request for trent smut w/ a college student. so of course, i had to add some angst—makes it more fun. not to mention how much i love him, so who am i to deny it?! hope you enjoy! :)

- - -

“Do you think you’ll be able to come out soon?”

Trent’s hopeful tone of voice rang through the phone as you held it up to your ear, sitting comfortably in the quiet bedroom of your apartment. A pang of guilt washed over you. You already knew the answer, and it wasn’t the one he was looking for.

He and you first met when you were a freshman in college. He was a sophomore. You started dating quickly after. Now, you were a senior and he was playing in the NHL halfway across the country. But you lived in Wisconsin, so it wasn’t often that you got to see each other. It was difficult for him to visit during the team’s breaks, especially when the rest of his family was based in St. Louis. And you, on the other hand, were far too busy with work and school to make the extensive trips out.

“I don’t think so,” you finally sighed, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’ve been so busy, and I just—fuck, I miss you, but I can’t. And I’m so tight on money right now.”

“I’ll pay for it,” he pushed.

“Trent, I can’t,” you frowned, resting your chin on your knee. “Believe me—if I could, I’d already be there by now. It’s just…too much.”

A beat of silence followed, and you could practically picture the dejected look on his face. You knew he was still there—the soft noise of his breathing that came through the receiver told you so—but he waited to speak. He was running through any possible solutions in his head, yet not a single one was worthy of voicing.

“I want to see you,” he finally spoke. “I’m sick of only talking to you through the goddamned phone. It feels like this isn’t even real anymore.”

“Not real?” you asked, lips parted in shock. “Trent, what part of this isn’t real?”

“I—I don’t know. Look, I,” he breathed, “it’s just hard to watch all of the guys have their girlfriends here while mine is eleven hundred miles away and has barely even met any of them, alright?”

“Oh,” you spoke quietly, nodding your head as you took in his words. “So that’s it, huh? That’s the problem, isn’t it?” You fell back against your headboard, “You finally admit it, then. It’s because I’m not like them.”

“I never—”

“Oh, save it, Trent!” you shouted. “We knew this was what it would be like when the time came and we agreed to stay together. We agreed to make it work. Do you have any idea how much I’ve sacrificed to even be able to visit and see you when I do?”

You swallowed thickly, “I have juggled so many things in the past year and all I wanted was a little bit of sympathy from you. Christ’s sake, Trent, I know it sucks. I know, okay? But I am trying so goddamn hard to find the time to just talk to you like this right now!”

“That’s my whole point,” he retorted firmly, his voice irritated. “It’s like I never see you anymore. And when I come back, I have to decide between seeing you or my family, and you always make me choose them. So it’s pretty fucking frustrating to see everyone else have their girlfriends or their wives there when you barely get to talk to yours,” he took a breath. “This barely feels like anything anymore.”

“What, so you’re just going to act like I’ve never done anything for you? Like I haven’t been working day in and day out to make as much time for you as I can? I did everything for you when you still went to school here and this is the thanks I get?” you firmly stood your ground. “Yes, Trent, I know I’m not there. I know that. And god, I miss you more than anything—”

“Then come.”

“Jesus Christ, Trent, I can’t!”

You shook your head and sat up on your bed once more. You could only be thankful that you lived alone in your off-campus apartment, with all the back and forth you were having. “You can’t come here, and I can’t go there. That was the understanding when we agreed to make things work,” you lectured. “And trust me, it hurts me too. Fuck, it hurts to see people I don’t even know with their boyfriends. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s hurting from this.”

“If this is making it work, then I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Trent—”

“I’m just,” he shook his head, “god, I’m tired of this.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the fear of what he’d say next slowly beginning to tear at your heartstrings. Although you hadn’t seen much of each other in recent years, Trent meant the world to you. He’d done just about everything in his power to keep you happy before he moved. And even after, he tried to see you as much as he could; as much as time would allow.

So the thought of what he might’ve been getting at made you sick to your stomach.

“You cannot put this on me,” you told him through the phone, fingers tightly gripped around the metal as if dropping it would make you lose him for good. “You have no. Right,” you swallowed, nostrils flared and teeth gritted. “It’s so fucking unfair.”

“You know what’s unfair?” His question lingered in the air, and you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t something that you were meant to answer. So you waited.

“Being forgotten.”

And that was your final straw.

“Fuck you,” you sobbed, a tear cascading down your cheek. “If this whole long-distance thing wasn’t enough for you, then you should’ve just broken it off before.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one that left you, Trent.”

Your phone was face down on the bed almost instantly after you hung up. Any emotions you were desperately trying to suppress came to the surface, bringing you to tears as you buried your face into your knees. It all finally came to a head, and you couldn’t bear the outcome. Heavy sobs left your lips, pried relentlessly from your throat as guilt ripped through you. Your body refused to let up for even a second; not until every last drop of emotion was ripped from you.

And finally, once it was, you lay restless in your bed until morning, mind unable to escape the intruding idea of never seeing him again.

Hours turned into days, days into weeks of not hearing from him. Since that night, you began to work yourself harder, picking up hours to fill up the time you’d be alone. You couldn’t let yourself think about it, or else you’d break.

It had been almost a month since. You heard a knock on your door as you were headed for the bathroom, about to shower after another long shift. You were prepared for it to be another one of your friends. They’d been showing up at your door for days, trying to break you out of your funk, which only irritated you further. You sighed and tightened your robe, then walked to the door and swiftly opened it. 

“For the last time, I’m fine—”

It wasn’t your friends.

Surprise laced your expression. Trent was standing on the other side of the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets. His body was tense as he stood silently.

“Trent,” you finally whispered.

He stepped closer, eyes boring into yours when your head tilted back to look at him. His lips parted to speak, but you gave him no such chance when you threw your arms around him. Any emotions that you’d suppressed immediately surfaced, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest.

“Shh,” he cooed, hands rubbing gently up and down your back.

His hand came up to your cheek when you pulled back, using his thumb to gently wipe it dry. The warmth of his touch radiated through the skin and you felt a sense of familiarity, of comfort being in his hold again.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried softly, your arms tightening around his midsection.

“God, no, don’t,” he hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “please, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”

He frowned, “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have acted like such a baby.”

“But I just got angry. I didn’t even consider how you’d—”

“Hey,” he sternly interrupted, pulling your body into his. “This was on me. I knew how busy you’d be when we decided to stay together. I was upset that I couldn’t see you and I blamed you for that,” he breathed. “You didn’t deserve that. Not after everything you’ve done to make this work. I didn’t do my part.”

Another tear fell from your eye, burning the skin in its path. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like this wasn’t real anymore,” you frowned.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…dumb.”

“And I blamed you for leaving when you had no choice.”

He sighed deeply, urging your head to his chest. “It’s only a month left until you’re out, right?” he asked and you nodded, confirming his inquiry. “Okay. So we only have to tough out one more month of this…And then it’s over.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you finally spoke, leaning into him. “I am, too.”

You finally leaned up to kiss him and he quickly reciprocated, pulling your chest flush against his. His head craned to the side, deepening the kiss and turning it into something more than just making up lost time. You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. He hummed against your lips, fingers gripping the underside of your thighs to support your weight.

“I was about to,” you muttered between kisses, “shower.”

“Explains the robe.”

He began walking forward, carrying you down the hallway as you remained perched on his waist. The soft material of the robe slid off of your thighs, exposing them to the cool air and allowing you to feel his bare palms around them. The ring that sat on his right index finger dug into the soft skin as he reached the door to your bathroom. 

“Got room for one more?” he teased as he lowered you to your feet.

“Maybe,” you giggled in response, hands resting atop his shoulders. “Who’s asking?”

His fingers toyed with the belt on your robe, slowly beginning to loosen it around your waist. He lowered his head, forehead nearly touching yours, and softened his voice, “Someone who hasn’t been alone with his girlfriend in a long time.”

“Hm,” you considered, fingers dancing along the back of his neck, “I think something can be arranged, then.”

The robe’s soft fabric fell open as he let go and brought his hands to his shirt, removing it in one go. With that, you slipped the rest off and stepped into the shower, then quickly turned on the water as he rid himself of the rest of his clothing. As you waited, you shampooed your hair, thoroughly rinsing it out and basking in the warmth of the water over you.

It wasn’t long before the curtain opened and in stepped Trent, who had discarded all but his silver chain, including the ring he wore just moments before.

“God, have you gotten bigger?” you asked, hands traveling up his arms. “Or has it been that long?”

“Maybe you’ve just gotten smaller.”

You rolled your eyes promptly, chuckling softly before leaning up to kiss him again, allowing the hot water to cascade slowly down your back. You flipped your bodies around and his hair grew darker as it slowly dampened, curls dissipating as they flattened atop his head. You were quick to run your hands along his upper body, palms grazing the skin of his chest down to his stomach. Your touch earned a groan of approval from his lips as you and your body swiftly moved down.

Down to your knees, even, right in front of him.

A few soft, teasing kisses were pressed to his tip before you drew his cock into your warm mouth. A large hand snaked into your hair, roughly gripping the wet strands as he turned just slightly, back now facing the wall. The hot water coated his body, allowing your lips to glide smoothly along his length, teeth lightly grazing the skin.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he drawled, hand setting your pace as the steam from the water rose up around you.

Slowly, he began to pump his hips, tip hitting the back of your throat with each gentle thrust. His head drew back, pressing against the cool, wet tile as he sucked air through his teeth. Your nose nearly came into contact with his pubic bone as you took as much of him as your mouth would allow. But as much as he would’ve wanted to, he refrained from forcing you down.

Instead, he relished in the feeling of your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock again for the first time in months.

Deep breaths left his mouth in the form of groans, his lips parted and face contorting with pleasure. Soon his head was off the wall again as he looked down, driven wild by the sight before him—his girlfriend on her knees in front of him, looking back up at him through tattered lashes, sporting stains of mascara that ran down her cheeks. 

It was nearly enough to send him over, and you felt him growing more tense. The grip on your hair tightened as he sped up your pace just slightly, a choked moan escaping your lips and humming against his skin. His free hand darted out and pressed firmly against the fogged glass door, aiding him in maintaining any sort of composure he could conjure up.

Just as he was about to warn you of how close he was, you slid him out of your mouth. When your eyes flitted up, they were met with his disapproving glance, chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.

“Why did you stop?”

“To irritate you,” you scrunched your nose. “But mostly to tease you.”

Light kisses were intricately pressed to his tip, the action just perfectly denying him enough sensation to fulfill his needs. But enough to make him ache with want, with need; the need of release. Of breaking the taut line holding him together. He was on the brink, and you knew it, but you were denying him.

How cruel.

Maybe it was a form of payback for the argument he started a few weeks before. For making you think you were broken up for all that time. Something like that, he convinced himself. All he knew was that you had every intention of making him wait, and he had no choice but to accept it.

“Mm,” you hummed, the fingers of one hand curling around his length and the others around his thigh as your lips trailed the same torturous kisses down to the base and back up. His hand brushed through the dripping wet strands of dark ginger hair atop his head, feet planted deeply into the floor below him.

Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t the only one who craved his release. And fortunately for him, you were finally willing to give him the satisfaction.

So you drew just the head back into your warm mouth, tongue swirling around the swollen area tactfully. Soft lips glided along his skin as you slid them further down on him, and the line finally snapped like a twig. The aftermath flooded your senses, his taste gathering on your tongue as the sound of his groans filled your ears.

And his traces went smoothly down your throat with a prompt swallow.

“Fuck,” he finally managed, eyes following you as you rose to your feet.

“That,” you started, licking the remainder from the corner of your mouth, “was for that phone call.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a smirk settling in on his face.

“Mhm,” was your sharp-tongued response, bringing a grin to his lips. You reached for the conditioner, “And you deserved it.”

He nodded as you squeezed a bit into your hand, afterward lathering it in your hair. He brought his hands up to your head and tilted it back, using his fingers to rinse out the cream gently.

“Maybe I did,” Trent hoisted you up, an involuntary gasp falling from your lips.

“—But now it’s my turn.”

Your back pressed against the cool tile as he turned your bodies to the side, water now hitting him at an angle as he pinned you up. You breathed out sharply from the force at which you hit the wall, lips parting as your gaze fell on his grin-inhabited face. 

The heat formed beads of sweat on both you and Trent’s foreheads, mixing with the hot water as it continued to fall behind his body. He leaned up and connected his lips with yours, a hand running through your equally wet strands before sliding down your tense figure. The other locked fingers with your own and roughly pressed the back of your hand against the tile above your head, drawing a needy moan from your throat.

Your free hand slid up his front and came into contact with the cold, wet metal of his chain. God, you loved it. And he knew it, which was why he never took it off at moments like this; whether it was the tag tapping against your cheek as he thrust into you or it pressing into your skin as your back arched against him, or even just the sight of it poking out from under his shirts, it set you ablaze, similar to many other things about him. Like his hair. Or his hands.

Or the head of his cock as it dragged along your soaked folds, teasing you until you begged for more.

Which, oddly enough, was exactly what was happening to you then. 

“Trent—fuck,” the words weakly fell, “please.”

His lips were at your neck, working the soft, damp skin just as you did to his body just minutes before, only now the added pressure of him at your entrance came into play.

“What is it, hm?” he mumbled, trailing down to your collarbones and back up.

“Need to feel you,” you breathed heavily, “now.”

Lips stretched into a grin against your skin just before he pushed himself into you, allowing you to sink down onto him properly. Your hands quickly lifted and tenaciously gripped his shoulders for stability. His head lifted from your neck and fell back, mouth open as he exhaled deeply from the pressure of you enveloping him. He was hardening at an unfaltering rate from the sensation, and his mind was running a mile a minute.

Because no effort he made to relieve himself when he was alone could ever replace the feeling of your inner walls constricting around him.

And fuck, did he miss that feeling.

Finally, your boyfriend was buried inside you again. Finally, he was stretching you out again, occupying every last inch of space that your body would allow. The feeling was all too familiar, but that was what you loved most; how perfectly he fit you, and how it was still able to make you see stars, regardless of how many times you’d felt it before.

His hips instantly moved in a controlled rhythm, leaving no time to exchange pleasantries. Hard thrusts drove your vulnerable body up the wall, large hands now having moved to your hips, fingers pressing firmly into the wet skin. 

He wasn’t going to waste any time taking things slower, softer as he normally would. Oh, no—there was no time for that. He needed you oh, so desperately at that moment—to take you. Hard. Fast. That’s what months of deprivation did to a guy like him; a guy who hadn’t felt the touch of his girlfriend in so long that it hurt.

Luckily for him, he wasn’t the only one starving with want.

So the payoff was all the sweeter for the both of you as each torturous thrust forced the tip of his strained, desperate cock to brush just against the right spot within you. Various expletives filled the fogged air of the bathroom, sounding in the form of your weakened voice. Nail-shaped craters formed on the skin of his back while he roughly pistoned his hips forward and back, relentlessly pushing your back against the slick wall behind you.

“So glad you live alone and not on that fucking school ground,” he mumbled, pressing kisses to your exposed shoulder.

Usually, he was more gentle with you, and you’d grown accustomed to that. You liked it that way. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved, in contradiction, the times he decided that gentle wasn’t enough. That it simply wouldn’t do. When all he could think of was the burning desire to pin you to the wall and fuck you dumb with pleasure because he was so damn starved from not seeing you as often as he should. Because he knew better than anyone else that you could take it.

You’d no doubt have prints on your back from the incessant pressure of him pressing you against the tile behind you, and you briefly considered the thought. It left your mind quicker than it came, however, because it wouldn’t be the only thing left behind on your body from the exchange that night. 

They’d pair nicely with the marks that extended from your neck to your collarbones.

“Close, Trent,” you muttered, head falling forward and resting atop his shoulder. “I’m…fuck, I’m close.”

A phrase that had become so familiar to him, so routine, as if it were some sort of perverted Bible verse you’d been trained to memorize. One that he’d never get sick of hearing because he knew that every time he was the reason for it.

Of course, you didn’t have to say it, because he already knew you were there. And if you weren’t, someone ought to have explained to him why you felt so tight, all of a sudden.

“Come on, baby,” the words rolled off his tongue languidly, “let go.”

So you did, clenching around him and crying out with a weakness that laced your voice. White hot pleasure surged through your body as he fucked you through it, his thick cock continuing to provide you more pleasure with each calculated thrust than any store-bought substitute could manage. Calloused fingers grasped urgently at the swell of your hips, the hold on you firm enough to keep you stable as you shattered around him for what felt like the first time in years.

Not a moment was wasted before ropes of hot liquid emptied into your stomach, thoroughly coating your waiting, sensitive inner walls. A satisfied groan exited his lips, the sound low in your ear, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. A hand traveled up to his wet locks, pushing his head forward and allowing your mouth to envelope his in a deep kiss as his hips slowly, carefully came to a stop. 

His tongue explored your mouth as if it had never been in its vicinity before, head tilting to give himself easier access. Meanwhile, he pulled out and began to lower you down, the muscles in his arms straining as they held you up for support. Your feet were once again planted on the wet, slippery floor of the shower as your spent body remained still between his large frame and the tiled wall behind you.

He pulled away and stepped back, sliding his hands off you as he turned the knob behind him to increase the water’s temperature. Then, he moved in the stream’s direction, arms reaching outward and pulling you toward him. Your back quickly came into contact with his firm chest, metal pressing against the now patterned skin as his hands placed themselves atop your slick skin.

A pair of soft lips peppered gentle kisses from your neck down to your shoulder, fingers rising to brush your hair away. The scalding hot water hit his back and extended to your exposed shoulder blades, effectively relaxing the tense muscles of your worked bodies. After all, it had been quite the bit of time since either of you had been in such a position.

“I love you,” he murmured, lips brushing against the skin of your ear as his hands ran down along your arms beside you.

Your head fell back against his chest, “I love you, too.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, arms wrapping around your waist and his hands finding purchase on your stomach, allowing him to inch your body closer to his. Both his and your eyes then fell shut as you settled into him.

It was all so…intimate; intimate in large contrast to the last time you spoke to him before he showed up at your door looking for forgiveness. And of course, he received it, because the whole disagreement was fueled by the sole fact that he simply missed the woman he loved.

The same woman who stood in his embrace as they fell into a comfortable silence, minds focused only on the sound of the water and the steam slowly rising around them.

[nobodyfamousposts]

My-Crack-Ulous: Norm 2

For Norm, most of his time with Lila was spent studying up on the events of the past few years and the current state of Paris in order to get up to date. 

For Lila, most of her time with Norm was spent trying to find the perfect way to make her wishes so they wouldn’t keep backfiring.

Which was hilarious to Norm, since her attempts only made things worse.

“One of these wishes is bound to work!” Lila insisted, starting to look almost as haggard and unhinged as a certain crock-pot.

Norm rolled his eyes.

Geez, he was just kind of insulted by this point. One would think after the first two wishes going completely wrong that the wish-maker would put one and two together and give up by that third wish.

Here Lila Rossi was a good hundred or so wishes PAST that magic number and she was STILL insisting that Ladybug and Dupain-Cheng—who totally aren’t the same person wink wink—were responsible for turning her wishes against her. Somehow, for the girl who liked to think she was so ingenious, she hasn’t figured out that it was his own magic screwing with her.

Honestly, he was kind of insulted. It was like she didn’t even KNOW him!

…which she didn’t, now that he thought about it. He’d barely gotten out that he was a genie before she started on the wishing. 

Not like he was going to do anything to change that, though, but still! He felt kind of used. Maybe he should talk to her about it? She was still young—only a teenager and probably deserved a chance to learn and grow or something.

…nah.

“You’re doing great, kid.” He said blithely as he looked over a news article instead.

Apparently Dimmsdale had vanished from the face of the Earth as far as he could find, so either Turner had done something or he was in an entirely different dimension. Either way, twerp was gone and not his problem.

Thus, he instead used his time wisely—or at least more wisely than his new victim at any rate. As such, he decided to take the time to learn about how things worked before he tried to mess around too much. Particularly regarding these heroes and the whole “Hawk Moth” deal. Maybe he should have tried more to get in touch with that guy, but given some of those “akumas” he’d been making….yeah, no, Norm was better off staying out of that.

Though the Miraculous seemed familiar. He could swear he encountered them before. Hadn’t he known a guy? Cat guy? 

Eh, it was a while ago. Probably nothing.

He picked up the next random reading material in the pile and…ooh, a magazine. He ignored Lila muttering to herself while looking over the magazine and…wow, this blond kid really was everywhere, wasn’t he?

Creepy. Seriously, was he the only one kind of weirded out over the hyped up over focus on a 14 year old? 

No? Just him?

Lila glared at him. Part of her was tempted to try and demand answers, but that would be admitting there was some issue. And there was none!

She was fine! Perfect, in fact! Now she had her own genie and magic to influence the world with! The only problem was she couldn’t use it on Ladybug.

Clearly, this was Ladybug’s fault. She must be doing SOMETHING to interfere with her new magic!

Typical. She just couldn’t let Lila have anything good. Not Adrien. Not fame. Not even the crushing defeat of her enemies.

But Lila would prevail—oh yes! All she had to do was find the right wish to get everything she deserved!

"Soon." She muttered with a smirk. "Soon..."

____________________

I wish everyone, including Ladybug, believed I was her best friend!"

Three days later and nothing.

Ladybug didn't come to visit her. She didn't interact with her outside of battles. Or even IN battles except to tell her to stay out of the battles. And nobody new was cozying up to Lila in a way that would suggest they were under the effects of her wish.

"What gives?!" She demanded to Norm, finally having enough of waiting. Though to be fair, Lila had never been very patient. "Why isn't Ladybug being friendly with me?"

She glared at the picture of the superhero on her computer. No updates. No news. Nothing out of character. And no sign of even caring about Lila the way she should!

"If Ladybug thought I was her best friend, shouldn't she be friendly towards me? Hell, she should be spilling her identity to me by now!”

Norm, being rather bored by this point, shrugged. Truthfully, even he didn't know for sure why the superhero remained unchanged, but he had a few gueses.

"Well, your wish didn't take into account who Ladybug is."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?!" She demanded.

He sighed. "Kid, your wish made Ladybug think you were her best friend. The only reason she wouldn't tell you her identity would be because she wouldn't tell her own non-wish-influenced best friend her identity."

"Shouldn't she have trusted me with a Miraculous at least?" She questioned.

"Not if Ladybug was understandably ticked off that her "best friend" would claim a connection between them to the world for popularity and decide she's not trustworthy or a true friend." Norm replied. People don't always stay best friends, after all. And while the wish may have made Ladybug think Lila was her best friend in the moment, all the OTHER things Lila had done would likely sour that quickly.

So ultimately, a waste of a wish.

Then of course, came the other problem of that wish…

“Tell us who Ladybug is or else!” Demanded the scarred and nasty-looking man, knife in hand and pointed directly at Lila.

Lila, who had been kidnapped from school that afternoon by this thug and his followers, tied to a chair, and interrogated on the one thing she would already have told everyone had she known!

“I don’t know!” Lila insisted.

“Bullshit! You’re her best friend!”

“As Ladybug! She hasn’t told me her true identity!”

Another thug scoffed. “What kind of best friend are ya, then?”

She glared at him in outrage.

Fortunately for her, that moment was interrupted as an akuma chose that time to slam through a wall a la a certain American meme.

“Lila Rossi!”

The thugs screamed in fear and either scattered or were knocked over by the falling wall. The few who remained were quickly taken care of with a zap or three from the akuma’s wand.

Thank goodness!

“Finally! It’s about time—”

But the akuma gave her no further time to speak, instead pointing his wand at her and glaring ominously.

“Tell us who Ladybug is or else.”

Lila stared.

Was the akuma serious? Was Hawk Moth serious? They were allies! He should know she isn’t actually Ladybug’s friend or anything close to an ally, so why was he sending the akuma after her?

…oh.

Oh right. The wish she made was for “Everyone”. And that included Hawk Moth, too.

“NORM!”

____________________

“I wish Ladybug would be crushed by an akuma!”

One hour later... Lila watched, seething in rage through binoculars as the akuma "Lady-Fan”, Ladybug’s apparent “#1 Fan” was taking Ladybug on a rather lovely date to a high scale restaurant the likes of which Lila herself couldn't get into.

Even Hawk Moth appeared none-too-pleased given the illuminated mask around the akuma’s face—not that the akuma herself even noticed, only having eyes for Ladybug and not about to let anything stand between her and some one-on-one time with her favorite hero.

Which would be sweet…to anyone who wasn’t Lila.

“Norm, undo it!”

Norm looked up from a movie—the Ladybug movie of all things.

“You sure you wanna use a wish on this? It’s an akuma. It’ll just be resolved on its own.”

“UnDO it. NOW.”

He sighed and snapped his fingers.

With a poof, Ladybug was suddenly alone with a very much no-longer-akumatized fan…but still in the restaurant—and since no Lucky Charm had been used, the two apparently decided to continue with their “hangout”.

Lila glared.

“There. Happy?” Norm asked.

“No! Not until Ladybug is destroyed!” Lila shouted, seemingly uncaring to the potential of anyone nearby being able to hear her.

Norm rolls his eyes before turning back to his movie with a shake of his head and a mutter about a waste of a wish.

[cloudedgalaxies]

Two Nights Remain

Leona Kingscholar loves sleep more than anything else in Twisted Wonderland. So he is determined to continue sleeping all through the night when he has to host two freshmen crashing in his dorm for taking a rather stupid deal he had nothing to do with. It wasn't his problem.

Yet for some absurd reason, the three nights that the prefect stays in Savanaclaw, he doesn't get a wink.

Carnivore, Herbivore

(part one) (part two) (part three) (read on AO3)

Word count: 7k | Warning: Yuu has her period

Leona yawned, feeling his eyes droop as the stars started to appear. “Give yourself a break,” he found himself saying, despite how it was almost entertaining watching the herbivore question his life choices over a few measly pieces of paper. “You’re just going to make yourself dead on your feet if you keep goin’.”

“One more page,” Yuu bargained, keeping his eyes glued to the textbook in front of him. Leona couldn’t help but roll his, tail flicking in something he couldn’t quite call annoyance at the prefect’s stubbornness. It was a little vexing, how someone that small and meek could still have enough persistence to almost make Leona wonder how the Dark Mirror didn’t say he could fit in at Savanaclaw.

Then again, maybe he couldn’t. Leona had to rethink that when he caught the scent of blood, stinging his nostrils and making his senses snap to attention. Now where was he hurt? The hints of a scowl started to pull Leona’s lips down, especially when he caught himself trying to look over the herbivore for anything he might be able to see that his uniform didn’t cover. It wasn’t his problem.

“Patch yourself up, at least,” he grumbled, the growl in his voice more directed at himself than his new servant. “I don’t want to be smellin’ your blood all night.”

For some reason, that got the prefect’s attention, a crease appearing in his brow. “You can smell it?” he asked, more curious than anything else. “But I—” and then he stopped, some strange revelation making him freeze and the sickly tang of worry wave off him. “I’ll get right on that.”

His sudden and total attitude change was enough to make Leona raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing as Yuu shot up to dash into his bathroom. He closed the door behind him this time, hopefully learning from last night that it took more than carefully quiet movements to muffle sounds from his ears. Leona just sighed, lacing his fingers behind his head. 

In his newfound boredom, he caught himself looking at his second freeloader. How was it that out of the three of them, Grim was the only one asleep? Whatever madness they’d gone through that day had seemed to take a toll on him, if nothing else, because he’d been out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow. Leona decided that he should fix the grave mistake in the world as soon as he could, closing his eyes to doze off, too. 

But before he could get very far, the sound of a door tentatively opening caught his ear, pulling him back into consciousness. He almost scowled, but kept his features neutral, trying to feign being asleep when he realized that the prefect was trying to sneak back into his room. He pinned his ears on him, trying to pinpoint just exactly what was happening while his eyes were closed.

What was he doing? What was Leona doing, trying to listen in like some stupid kid at a slumber party? He couldn’t frown, but he could let his tail thump on his mattress, the only outlet he had to express his annoyance. It was so he could make sure the herbivore wasn’t trying to get slick and get away with stealing something, he reasoned with himself. After all the rumors he’d picked up about Yuu’s rather abysmal financial situation, he wouldn’t put it past him to try to make a quick thaumark.

But the prefect wasn’t like that, Leona found himself thinking. Out of everyone in Night Raven College, he would probably pick the herbivore as the most trustworthy student on campus. He was also the most trusting, which got him into many a bad situation like the one that had made him oh-so-kindly become Leona’s servant for two more days. After the big display he’d made out of Leona trying to cheat for the spelldrive tournament, he’d be shocked if he really turned out to be as twisted as—

What was he doing? Leona hissed at himself again, stopping himself mid-thought. He had no business with the prefect whatsoever. None of his problems were Leona’s issue, and he had no reason to care. His tail’s flicking became stronger with his increased irritation, now letting out an audible thud as it hit his bedsheets. Look at all the good rooming with the herbivore did to him after one night, with missed sleep and unnecessary annoyance. He wasn’t looking forward to sharing his dorm with the guy for two more nights.

Then Leona felt him gently touching his shoulder, and it almost made him just leap up and devour him right then and there. He kept to his facade of sleep, willing his tail to stop moving. “Leona,” Yuu called, and something in him stirred at the way he’d said it. His voice was practically a whisper, uttered with fear and worry and something that made Leona think that he was about to shatter.

Fine. He’d just keep bothering him if he ignored him, so Leona let his eyes open again. “You’d better have a real good reason for waking me up,” he growled, before he took in his expression. It made Leona pause just for a moment, and he wondered if maybe he really did have one, when he looked that nervous.

“I’m going to tell you something,” he said, still in that voice that reminded Leona of a terrified songbird, “and I don’t want you to freak out.”

“You’re tellin’ me that?” he couldn’t help but scoff back, even though he felt something strange and cool start to close around his stomach. It got just a little tighter when the prefect bit his bottom lip, glancing around the room as he took in a breath. “Spit it out already.”

He took his hand away, as though he’d only just now remembered that it was still on Leona’s shoulder, and breathed in again. “I’m a girl,” he blurted out, in a forced exhale of a sigh that was just barely words instead of breath.

Out of everything the prefect could have told him, Leona was not expecting it to be that. He blinked, trying to see if this was some sort of joke as his surprise faded. “What.” If this was anyone else, Leona would have thought that they were lying. But the way that Yuu’s face flinched at the unimpressed snarl in his voice made him think again.

And then Leona remembered that moment last night, when something in the air seemed to shimmer and change. Then the pieces suddenly all slotted into place, making everything strange make sense. The oversized uniform, the small wrist, the sound of a cork uncapping…

“You’re serious?” he asked, that snarl noticeably absent from his voice now. Yuu nodded, the faintest dip of the head as he—she—confirmed.

Leona fought the urge to swear. 

He sat up now, making the prefect take a step back as he swung his legs to let his feet touch the ground. “The headmage gives me a potion,” she explained, sensing that Leona was about to start asking questions. “I have to take it every night, and it does…something. I’m not really sure what, but it keeps people from finding out the truth.”

To think it even worked on him. It must be some potion, Leona mused with bitterness in his thoughts. “You’re making it all useless right now,” he reminded gruffly, though not unkindly, trying not to think about all the ways that he’d been a complete imbecile to her. “Why tell me?”

She fidgeted with her shirt, and Leona saw that the tips of her ears were burning a furious red. It was extending to the rest of her face, he noticed, which she was trying to hide by tilting her head even farther down than it’d been already. “I-I have a problem,” she mumbled, and the only reason Leona could catch her words was because of the way his ears were fixed on her. “I’m…bleeding.”

It took Leona a moment longer than he wished it had to realize what she meant. Yuu had let her hair fall around her face all the more now, practically concealing herself from his view in either shame or embarrassment, or a cruel combination of the two. “You don’t have anything?” he asked, forcing his voice to lose the growl of frustration it almost had. There was no reason to scare her any more than she already was. Leona found he had no desire to anyway, when she was trying her hardest not to cower now.

He saw Yuu’s hair wave more than he saw her shake her head. “The twins were watching me when I packed. I didn’t want to risk it.” Leona ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what exactly he felt and who exactly it was directed at. “I’d go buy something, but if you can— can smell it, then…”

“Yeah.” He’d been pretty dense, but there wasn’t a guarantee that everyone in the dorm would be as blockheaded. Leona took one look at the herbivore and sighed. The sharp, bristling scent of fear was sticking to her skin like mud and musk. Even if Leona wasn’t able to smell it, it was obvious to tell that she was a hair’s breadth from trembling. 

So much for anything not becoming his problem. “I’ll take care of it,” he told her, standing up to make it clear he meant it. “Sam knows?” Another barely-nod, making him go off how her hair moved more than anything else. Leona felt his tail swish, hesitantly bringing a hand up to lightly touch her shoulder. He hoped it helped to make her not want to bolt as much. At the very least, it didn’t make her want to run more, since she didn’t flinch at it. “Go take a shower. You—” smell like fish guts, he was about to say, then realized that what she smelled like was definitely a sensitive topic right now. “It’ll help,” he decided on instead, gently coaxing her to start walking back towards the bathroom. “I’ll be back when you’re done.”

Yuu nodded, a bit more brave this time as it finally got through to her that Leona wasn’t going to rip her to pieces. “I’m sorry,” she got out, as she took the first few steps with him.

Leona found that he wanted to shred whatever it was that made her sound so fragile when he heard her voice again, still just as timid. Maybe it was him, he realized, the thought making something sour and rancid fill his mouth. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” he said, meaning it as much as he could. He stopped when they made it back to the bathroom door, relieved that she seemed at least a little less flighty now. “No one else’ll find out. Take a breath, herbivore.”

She listened for once, filling her lungs with air that would hopefully help to calm her. “Thank you,” she told him, finding enough courage to fix her falling glasses. “Really. Between this and letting us crash here, I— thank you so much.”

He sighed, though it was not exasperated. “You’re not as big a hassle as you think you are,” he answered, trying to convince her that it was true.

And that was how the housewarden of Savanaclaw found himself trying to hastily make it over to the Mystery Shop in the few minutes he had before it closed instead of curled up in his bed. At this time of night, there weren’t many students awake and roaming campus—especially when it seemed as though the vast majority of them had taken a deal with the cephalo-punk, like the fools they were, and were trapped working in the Mostro Lounge.

Leona walked with a scowl on his face and a swishing tail, scaring the handful of students he did end up passing into a silent stupor. Why did the layout of campus make it so that they had to walk so far to get to the Shop? He had never minded it before, but it just made his mood all the more dour now. At least it wasn’t at the very end of the path, like Ramshackle was. Leona was honestly surprised that Yuu was on time to class most days. He wouldn’t have the resolve to wake up as early as she no doubt had to if he wasn’t forced to by Ruggie.

The doors were miraculously unlocked when Leona got to the Mystery Shop, much to his relief. Leona found that he had to take a little moment to calm himself before opening them, quelling his irritation and fixing his expression to not be so immediately hostile. He fought the urge to cringe when the bell rang, announcing his presence to everyone inside—which only seemed to be himself and Sam, thankfully, who peeked his head out from the back when he heard the chime.

“If it isn’t the Kingscholar imp!” he greeted, a disbelieving grin on his face as he saw who had come in so late. “What can I do for you?” Leona didn’t know how he felt about the way his ears swiveled before he’d consciously known they were, confirming without a shadow of a doubt that they really were the only two there. Sam seemed to realize what he was doing, thanks to the way Leona had grown silent just before he’d come to the counter. “You’re my only customer. Just about closed the doors before you came in.”

Good. Leona looked at him with a gaze that didn’t leave any room for arguments, making Sam pause for just a moment from the intensity his emerald eyes burned. “I know about the stuff you keep in stock for the herbivore,” he told him, deciding it was a night where he didn’t feel like mincing his words and dodging the truth. “She needs some of ‘em.”

Any reluctance or deception Sam was about to spew on him immediately vanished when he heard the pronoun Leona used. “You found out, huh?” he asked, his smile turning a little sour.

Leona recognized that look instantly. He wouldn’t hesitate to make the housewarden shut up if he needed him to. That unexpected streak of kindness almost surprised him, but it only made his job harder right now. “Quit it. I ain’t telling anyone,” he growled, making Sam raise his hands in a sign of peace.

“Heard about the deal the imp made with Ashengrotto. Looks like she made it over to you, huh?” Leona barely stopped his lip from curling back to reveal fangs that would no doubt make this go faster. But he had to remain civil, if nothing else than to not have to deal with the lecture he’d be in for if he didn’t. “What is it she needs?”

It was then that Leona realized he’d forgotten to ask. What even was there? Did Sam have everything, or just a few select things? It was only after a few seconds that Leona remembered he had to answer the question, when he noticed the way Sam was waiting for a response. His ears flattened to the sides of his head. “She’s swimmin’,” he answered, hoping that was enough of an answer to let him do the rest.

Thankfully, it was. Sam flashed him a thumbs up before ducking into the back room again, leaving Leona to be the sole person in the entire shop. He couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs up as he sighed. The silence made him think, both about what had just been revealed to him and how he hadn’t possibly found out before now. He still couldn’t believe how he hadn’t noticed until now, when everything was made so painfully obvious that even a toddler could figure it out. Pieces of memories and overheard conversations ran through his head, only helping to emphasize how foolish he’d been before. 

A plastic bag being placed on the counter snapped Leona out of this thoughts, making him look down at it instead of the random wall he had been fixated on. It was already tied shut, making sure that no prying eyes got a glimpse of what was inside. “How much?” he asked, thankful he’d remembered to get his wallet back from Ruggie that evening.

“Nothing. The two of us have an agreement.” Leona’s eyes instantly narrowed, finding his choice of wording all sorts of suspicious when Yuu was already in another soul-sucking deal with a student Sam seemed to take to a bit too much. But he laughed, making Leona’s eyes all the more darker. “It’s nothing shady. You can ask the imp if you’re curious,” he offered, before giving him a grin. “Guess my friends from the shadows were right when they said she’d gotten a new buddy.”

Leona didn’t know what to do at that, much to his dismay. He decided to play his turbulent emotions off as annoyance, flicking his tail as he scowled. “What’s the crow’s role in all this?” he asked, slipping two fingers between the bag’s handles and taking it off the counter and into his hold.

Sam’s grin faltered, much to Leona’s curiosity and true irritation. “He gives her something to hide in plain sight with. That’s all I know, I’m afraid.”

He highly doubted that, but Leona didn’t have time to question him, when he’d already spent enough time here that Yuu would be waiting for him to get back at this point. “Come back soon,” Sam called, as Leona turned on his heels and started back out of the shop. He just let out a sound between a hum and a grunt in reply, halfway out the door already.

The walk back was just as uneventful as the walk there. Leona supposed he’d scared off any students still awake and foolish enough to get in his way, because he made it back to his dorm without any issues, relying on all his useless lessons as a royal to somehow look presentable to those of his dorm that still prowled the halls.

When he finally got back to his room, not sure whether he should scoff or laugh at how Grim was still somehow asleep, Leona thankfully still heard the constant hiss of the shower. He’d gotten back just in time, he realized, because not even a second after he got closer, it shut off. He lifted the hand carrying the bag to rap his knuckles on the door twice, hearing the herbivore make some sort of noise to confirm she’d heard him. 

“I have your stuff,” he said, catching the faint hint of something rustling in the bathroom beyond. Maybe he shouldn’t be listening, Leona realized, and he promptly spun his ears away. “It’s by the door. I’m goin’ out to the balcony.”

“Okay,” Yuu called back, muffled through the door and the way that Leona was trying not to hear everything else that went on behind it. “Thank you.” He hummed back, deciding it was better to be quick than to spend more time tempting an unfortunate accident to possibly happen.

Much more noisily than he needed to, Leona walked out to the balcony off his room, resting his elbows on one of the fence posts. He caught the soft noise of the door’s latch unlocking, and fixed his gaze on whichever star caught his eye, staring at it with such intensity he almost thought it was going to go supernova. They were the souls of past kings, he remembered despite himself, recalling the night the royal scholars taught him that. Or at least, that’s what the old prides thought they were, before they ended up learning enough science to understand that they were balls of gas millions of miles away. 

Leona had never been taken with the idea of there being souls up in the sky—why would there be, if they didn’t seem to be around to help out those still living? Maybe there were, even despite the evidence proving otherwise. There had been days when Falena seemed especially lucky, in situations that Leona would have been hard pressed to get out of unscathed. He hadn’t been blessed, if his entire past spoke anything about the subject. Perhaps they just thought that Leona was too unremarkable to spend their energy on, when he was only the second-born.

He must have spent more time looking up at the sky than he thought, because the next thing Leona knew, Yuu was at his side, gazing at them right alongside him.  “You got everything you need now?” he asked, making her blink and glance up at where he’d started to look at her instead of the night.

“Yes. I took my potion for tonight too, so I should be fine. Thank you again,” she said, for the umpteenth time in the span of one night. Any other time, any other circumstances, Leona would have thought she was trying to stroke his ego. “Sam didn’t make you pay for anything, right?”

“No. Said you had an agreement.” Yuu nodded, looking a little relieved at that. But that only made Leona feel more of the opposite, eyes narrowing. “He isn’t making you do anything weird?” he asked, watching her carefully to see if she would lie. At the very least, he hoped it wasn’t as much work as Crowley seemed to give her.

When Yuu shook her head, he didn’t catch anything to make him think it wasn’t the truth. “I just help out at his shop twice a month to pay for it. They’re regular shifts besides that.” Leona hummed, not entirely sure he believed her anyway. But he supposed that was something he could look into later, when everything had cooled down and it wasn’t way past his bedtime. “If you wanted to ask me about…this, you can,” Yuu told him after a few moments. “You deserve that. I lied to you, after all. And I’m making you share your room with us.”

Had she, though? Leona couldn’t recall a time when the herbivore had explicitly stated that she was a guy. She just went along with the others, and didn’t correct them when they just assumed she was another average student. “Who knows?” he decided to ask, even though she owed him nothing. She didn’t seem to be the type who liked making anything go unpaid, he’d found. 

“Just you, Grim, a handful of staff, and a few guys in Heartslabuyl, so far.” It didn’t take much thinking to know who those students were. Leona couldn’t help but frown when he thought of the two froshes in that dorm she ran with knowing, the possibility of her secret getting spilled to half the campus just one idiotic slip-of-the-tongue away. “None of them have said anything to anyone,” Yuu told him, somehow sensing his distaste. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it’s been okay up until now.”

Leona hummed, running a hand through his hair. “Jack hasn’t figured it out?” he asked, more musing to himself than a question for Yuu. “Or Ruggie?”

“No. But honestly, I kind of think they suspect something,” she admitted. “As long as they don’t say anything though, it’s fine.” Leona hummed again. He could help make sure of that. 

Yuu sighed, the tinge of nerves in her breath. She looked down, and Leona’s eyes followed curiously, watching the way she fiddled with her fingers anxiously. “I hate to— can— am I good now?” Yuu asked, finally getting the words out after a few tries. “You can’t tell anymore, right?”

If anything, Leona was actively trying not to figure that out to not make her revert to the way she’d been before he’d returned. But he stilled, taking in a breath to let his sense of smell kick in. It was a bit of a jolt to realize that she smelled like him, after washing her hair with his stuff and wearing one of his shirts for the past two nights. It was even more of a surprise to find that, for some strange reason, Leona didn’t mind it.

At least it wasn’t the salty tang of the sea and the stench of fish, he decided. “No. Nobody’ll bother you,” he told her, truthfully. Especially not when she was silently protected by the aura of him, the one that he hadn’t even realized he’d given to her until now. Despite it all, Leona realized he didn’t find it in himself to really mind. “Sorry I pointed it out.”

Yuu shrugged, lacing her fingers behind her neck. “It’s better you said something now than half the dorm finding out later.” The prefect let out a sigh much more relieved than her previous one, the musk of stress radiating around her lessening somewhat. “One night left after this,” she mused, giving him a sheepish smile when Leona looked over. It fell flat a moment later as she glanced away again, breathing in deeply to steady the nerves that were starting to wrack even him. “I’m sorry for being such a problem.”

Out of all the things Leona felt, he was surprised it was not annoyance. Especially when the prefect’s still-healing injury was as visible as it could be to him then, as she gazed out at the sky. He just sighed softly, flicking an ear. “Wasn’t ‘cause of you. This time, at least,” he had to add, feeling something light inside him flutter softly when he caught how that made her smile just the smallest bit. “You could stand to cool it a bit, herbivore. The rate you’re goin’, anyone can tell you’re about to burn out.”

He almost frowned at how that made her anxiety spike again, attacking his nose with sharp daggers of it. “Seriously,” Leona continued, watching her carefully as she busied herself with braiding her still-damp hair. “You’re makin’ me stressed just by being next to you. That ain’t an easy thing.”

She looked surprised at that, her eyes widening just a bit as she looked over at him. Leona almost wondered if he should have said that—both for her sake and his. It wasn’t his problem. “I am?” she asked softly, something in her voice making Leona know that there was more than just one question in those two words.

Leona sighed, feeling how his tail swished behind him. He didn’t have the energy to dance around a half-answer or a mostly-lie so late at night. “You’ve got a spine and a brain that isn’t the size of a peanut. I know you do, ‘cause I’ve seen you use them,” he said instead. “Start using ‘em outside of fights, too, and you’ll be fine.”

That made her flush, much to his amusement. “You’ve seen me— In the gardens,” she realized, with a bashful exhale and the pinking of her scarred ear he could see. But then she stopped, looking up at him again with a glint in her eye he almost wanted to call amusement if it wasn’t just curiosity. “You were watching me?”

“When you were causin’ such a racket that you woke me up?” Leona almost chuckled at the way Yuu frowned at him, looking everything like a pouting cub. “Not my fault you decided to duke it out on public property.”

“You could’ve helped,” she huffed, but even as she said that, Leona could tell that she was realizing why he didn’t.

Just in case she was getting to the wrong outcome—what was the wrong outcome? he asked himself—Leona smirked, making something in her starry eyes flicker. “You had it handled,” he told her, enjoying the way that made her unoffended frown deepen. “‘Sides, by the time I could’ve gotten up, it was already over.”

Even now, knowing what he knew, Leona wasn’t sure that he would’ve rushed up to help her. She was tough, even if she didn’t look it—even if she hadn’t started out that way, when she’d first tumbled into the Mirror Chamber like a newborn gazelle. But she’d gotten stronger, through playing with all the unfair hands the school dealt her. Leona had to say, she was doing pretty good for herself so far. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world for her to flaunt that sometimes, if that was in the form of persevering in the face of assailants to make them leave disappointed and defeated.

“If this is how you compliment people you think are dull and dimwitted, I can’t imagine what you say to people you admire,” Yuu teased, surprising Leona at her sudden bold streak.

He wouldn’t admit it, but something in his smirk became a little more warm at that. There was that spine. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he purred, watching as her frown turned into a little huff and a grin. A yawn caught him off-guard, reminding him just how late it was and how he was not in his bed. And yet, for some reason, Leona was not nearly as aggravated as that knowledge should have made him. “Guess you’ll have to see if you’ll find out tomorrow.”

Yuu didn’t argue this time before she went back inside, Leona found. Good. At least she was making some progress in that aspect. But he still had to let out the softest growl he could when she started towards the couch, making her look back at him in confusion. “What’re you doin’?”

She blinked, her brow furrowing as she looked back at him. “Sleeping?”

“Not there you aren’t. Take the bed.” Yes, his sleep might suffer from the couch’s less-quality surface. But Leona thought it was the least he could do to give her his bed, especially given the circumstances.

But the prefect—the stubborn, headstrong part of her that only seemed to rear up when he least wanted it to—fought him then. “What? No, it’s yours. I’m okay on the couch. I’m not making you give your bed to me, too.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t fine with it,” Leona told her, feeling the hints of annoyance creep into his voice. It was too late for him to want to argue. “Take the bed. It’s yours now.”

Yuu frowned, looking down at the couch Leona was already starting towards. “Grim’s already asleep,” she pointed out, making Leona scowl to himself at how she was still trying to stop him. “You won’t have much room.”

“I can move ‘im.” But Yuu was still following him, so Leona sighed, turning around to face her instead. “When’d your respect come back, huh?” he asked, the gruffness in his voice not entirely irritation, he found. “Or maybe it didn’t, since you don’t seem to listen.”

She opened her mouth, about to say something back to him that Leona had no doubt would make his scowl turn into a snarl. “Let’s share it then,” she compromised, making that rumble starting to prickle his throat immediately die out. That wasn’t what he thought she’d say.

“What.” His voice still had the faint snarl of how unimpressed he was, despite catching him off-guard.

But Yuu seemed completely set on this idea, even though she had only thought of it just a second ago. “Let’s share. You’ll be happy because you were a gentleman, and I’ll be happy because I wasn’t a total jerk to you.”

Leona just glowered at her. “No.”

“Why not?” There were a million answers to that question. Leona had not the patience or the energy to list them, so he settled to give her a smoldering stare instead. She was smart enough to think of at least a few of them on her own. “If this is because I’m a girl, I don’t care. You can’t treat me any differently than before, or else people are going to catch on,” she reminded, making his eyes glint sharper at how he hated that she was right. “Or we could just settle with both of us sleeping on the ground. Your call.”

The sigh that was building in his throat tapered into a growl as Leona pinched the bridge of his nose in his irritation. He was too tired to deal with this. “When I said to use that spine of yours, I didn’t mean on me,” he grumbled.

“You didn’t specify that at the moment.” He had the sneaking suspicion Yuu was grinning at him while his tail lashed behind him. Leona fought the urge to bare his teeth. So he just gave her the most smoldering glare he had yet, when he saw for certain that she indeed had the faintest of smiles on her lips. “If you’re fine with it, I am,” she added, a little less stubborn and a bit more serious.

Even though he knew he should deny her, Leona found himself caving. “You better not kick in your sleep, herbivore,” he warned, finding the way that her eyes lit up at her victory against him less annoying than it should be. It wasn’t his problem. He was just trying to get the least work out of this.

He turned his back to her the moment he laid down, careful to keep his tail curled onto his leg. “Good night,” she called softly, making Leona hum in a half-scoff as he finally turned off the lights. Finally, he could close his eyes and sleep. He did exactly that.

Until he felt the mattress start to rise again, telling him how its second user was trying to get up. “Stop movin’,” he growled, not bothering to open his eyes this time. She didn’t. The mattress lifted more. “Herbivore.”

“I didn’t finish my paperwork.” Leona didn’t have the willpower to even scoff. Before Yuu could fully get up, he turned over, slinging an arm around her waist to make her stay down. “Leona, let go,” she huffed, struggling against him. It only made his grip tighten.

He opened an eye then, peering at her with an emerald flame hot as the savannah at its most blistering. “Stop movin’,” Leona told her again. This time she did.

Yuu looked back at him with a gaze every bit as unamused as his, ghostly blue as the moon and stars outside. “Fine.” That satisfied Leona, so he let his eye close again, content to go to sleep. “You can let go now.”

“Are you goin’ to get up?” he asked, more a rumble than anything else.

“No.” Leona hummed at that. They both knew that was a lie. But still Yuu sighed, gently tugging on his arm in one last futile attempt. “Leona.”

“Good night,” he drawled, chuckling silently at the way that made Yuu let out an angry noise and pinched his arm in response. And yet, he still did not move, even when he found that he’d stayed awake long enough to make sure she’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself one last time, as he drifted off to the faint sound of her breathing.

Leona groaned when something called his name, too busy sleeping to wake. It called to him again, and his ears flattened this time, trying to drown out the voice to instead stay asleep. But then something hit him, pummeling his side with harmless attacks, and he finally had to wrench his eyes open, a snarl rumbling in his throat at whoever it was that dared to wake him in that manner.

“Paws off my minion!” Grim exclaimed, though he cowered when Leona set his gaze on him. He darted behind the leg of someone else, who, when Leona followed it up to their face, found to be Ruggie.

He was his assailant, he found, baring his fangs at the pillow in his hands. “Rise and shine,” the hyena chimed, grinning down at his housewarden. “Borrowed this ‘cause it didn’t seem like you needed it, what with your new one there.”

It was then that Leona remembered about the second person in his bed, when he glanced down to find her twisted around to face him, the hints of a crease in her brow. Then she noticed his gaze, and it disappeared, replaced with a twitch of the corners of her mouth that made Leona realize her face was pink. “Will you let go of me now?” she asked, though her voice seemed a touch amused underneath the hesitant exasperation in it.

Leona lifted his arm away as though she’d burned it. “My bad.” shooting Ruggie a glare as the hyena snickered. “You think you’re off the hook for that?” he asked, words now meant for him instead of just the herbivore.

“Not really.”

“Good. Start runnin’.”

“How come my hench-human gets a bed, but I hafta settle for a couch?” Grim seethed, grating voice getting on Leona’s already worn-down nerves.

Yuu laughed before Leona could fully get up, getting his attention. “You had more space than us that way,” she reasoned, either unaware or ignoring the way the housewarden was shooting him a look. “I thought you’d like that better than having to share with me again.”

“Oh. You got a point, I guess.” Leona turned his stare to the prefect instead when she nudged his shoulder, before getting up with a yawn. Ignoring it, then, he decided, when he saw the way she was looking back at him, too.

What luck he had. So many people to teach a lesson, and the perfect way to do so was in just a few minutes. “You’d better be ready to have your tail handed to you for interruptin’ my sleep,” Leona growled, scowling at the way Ruggie laughed.

“Looky here, guys, we made Leona mad.” He was just about to make Ruggie regret that then and there, but then the herbivore laughed again. And Leona just sighed instead, running a hand through his hair as he found his annoyance seep out of him. It was too early for this. “Chop chop, everyone. The rest of the dorm’s waiting on us.”

Another day of getting swept up in spells and tossed around like a toy had come and gone. Yuu’s prospects were looking dim at this point—nothing was working, everything was going wrong, and the infuriating Leech twins were always around every corner, just waiting to ruin any hope of progress she had in sight. Yuu had tried to keep her face as neutral as she could, but Ruggie must have seen how grim she was when he walked them back to Leona’s dorm.

“Bad day, huh?” he asked, and Yuu was almost a little surprised at the absence of any taunting in his voice. She looked up to see that he was giving her a small smile she would almost call sympathetic. “Those Octavinelle guys are something else.”

“No kidding.” She sighed, wincing a little as she moved wrong to make a new spell-given burn throb with hot pain. Yuu wasn’t able to keep track of what injuries were from who anymore, what with Floyd slinging most of her friends’ magic right back at them, but it didn’t make them hurt any less. “I never got to thank you for convincing Leona to let us stay, by the way.”

Ruggie shrugged, that grin turning a bit more playful. “If it gives me a couple days off, I’d take it.” Yuu rolled her eyes at that, especially when Grim started to pipe up with his own objections. “Honestly, it didn’t take as much pushin’ as it normally would,” he admitted. “Guess he has a soft spot for ‘ya.”

“How can you call any of what he’s doin’ a ‘soft spot?’” Grim yowled, totally unconvinced. “The guy’s hardly done anything ‘cept give us even more work to do!”

And yet, Yuu found herself silently wondering if Ruggie was right. Leona loved his sleep more than anything—that was something that would be undeniable until the end of time. But for two nights in a row, he’d sacrificed it for her, even if it wasn’t entirely willing. He’d helped her more than she could ever repay in the span of last night alone, in so many more ways than one.

So Yuu found herself wanting to defend him, even though Leona would hardly care what was said about him behind his back. “I don’t know. He’s been nice, in his own way,” she tried to reason.

Grim was not impressed. “You’re just saying that ‘cause he let you sleep in his bed last night,” he grumbled, giving her an unamused stare. “I still don’t know how you pulled that off. I’m jealous!”

Ruggie gave her a look that was much more entertained than Grim’s, which she tried to ignore alongside the heating of her face. “You had more space,” she reminded. “I think we were all happier last night.”

“I’m sure you were.” Yuu gave Ruggie a look, who just snickered right back. “Come on. Leona has a messy room and it’s your job to fix it.”

Grim and Yuu both groaned at that, not very willing to go do even more labor after an already arduous day. But Yuu found that she didn’t really mind it, despite that it would make her keep going instead of resting. And what more, when the three of them got to Leona’s room, she also found she thought that the room didn’t seem as messy as it did yesterday.

Maybe it wasn’t just her imagination, because Ruggie whistled. “Are you picking up because you have guests, Leona?” he teased, making his housewarden shoot him a smoldering glare and flick his tail. “What a nice guy you are.”

“Keep talkin’ and I’ll stop giving you the favor of slacking off,” he promised, deciding to make a show of getting comfortable to just taunt Ruggie all the more.

Yuu couldn’t help but grin a little. Savanaclaw certainly wasn’t as strict and uptight as Heartslabuyl, that was certain. “I’ll work on the bathroom,” she offered, not wanting to leave anything to chance. Yuu was pretty sure that she’d hidden everything well enough, but just in case either Grim or Ruggie decided to do a deep clean, she didn’t want them to find anything.

And while the second sunset of her three-day deal concluded, Yuu spent it cleaning. Then singing, albeit in the worst voice she could possibly use, in hopes of getting the two beastmen to aid her in the final confrontation to come.

[strwbrryeyes]

nini… think about… iwaizumi meeting a girl who’s surprisingly stronger than him. she can lift that man with no problem. she has a sleeper build or something !! :3

𖦹°｡⋆ Friendly competition (iwaizumi x reader)

⟡ cw: fluff, competitive fem!reader and iwaizumi, taken place at a gym, idk i'm bad with tags, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: omg requests are finally rolling out after ages! also i rewrote this and proofread it countless times so if there's anything wrong i'm sorry im just DUMB

Iwaizumi Hajime has always loved going to the gym, which is evident as he goes there almost every day. Not only is he very fit and built, but his health is also in excellent condition as he knows that taking care of himself and his inner workings is just as important (actually, more important) as keeping up his outward appearance. It also helps that he is an athletic trainer, so he always has a way to remind himself to stay in shape as he would always nag his athletes about the importance of being fit while not overworking themselves. Overall, Iwaizumi has always found comfort and importance in working out and keeping everything about himself in good shape.

So that’s when he saw you about to lift an alarmingly heavy weight, he walked towards you as worry took over him but then stopped in surprise when he saw you lift up the weight over your head with complete ease and no sign of struggle.

“Impressive…” Iwaizumi mutters out as he watches you place the weight back down in front of you.

As he catches your attention, you turn around and smile at him with pride. “Thank you! I’ve been working towards that for weeks now!” You happily tell him while wiping the sweat off of your forehead. Iwaizumi continues to watch you as you walk towards the rest of your stuff in pure amazement and curiosity before striking up another conversation.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone like you lift like that,” Iwaizumi starts as he leans over the piece of equipment in front of him “What’s your secret?”

With a chuckle and a light flush creeping up your face, you look at him with a teasing kind of look. “Not much really, just a lot of hard work and a lot of trial and errors of multiple techniques!” you exclaim to him as you flex your arm further surprising the man by how well-built you actually are.

“Why don’t you show me a few tricks then?” he quirks his brow playfully as he steps closer to you as if he’s proposing a challenge.

“I don’t see why not,” you take one step closer, looking up at him “but I’m warning you, you might get yourself into more than you can handle.” playfully teasing him, you smirk at Iwaizumi causing him to drop his jaw in shock a bit before he lets out a low chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure I can handle it.” Iwaizumi finally says before sticking out his hand for a handshake “I’m Iwaizumi, and I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.”

“I’m [name], and you can bet I’ll be here tomorrow to make you beg for mercy.” You take his hand in yours and shake it as if he had just made a deal with the devil.

What the both of you don’t know is that this handshake would be the one that would change your lives for the better.

As the next day rolls around, you both stay true to your words and show up to the gym around the same time. You both share techniques with each other and become friends easily as you both push each other to new limits, sparking a playful rivalry that leads into more sessions at the gym.

With each day at the gym together, you both challenge each other to multiple tests of strength and endurance that even catch the attention of all the other regulars to the point where they all surround you during every small competition you guys had. Even with all of the eyes looking at you two, you and Iwaizumi only see each other with no care for everyone else. Was it just that you wanted to one up each other? Or was it more than that? Neither of you were too sure yet, but you did know that you never wanted your time together to come to an end.

Days and weeks pass by, and you and Iwaizumi still find ways to work harder and to encourage each other to go further than you have been in the gym, but now you’ve come to realize you have challenged each other to almost everything one could think of.

With this realization, you walk up to Iwaizumi who is doing his post-workout stretching and sit across from him.

“Well, Iwa-chan~” you say in a mocking tone, knowing that nickname annoys him ever since his friend, Oikawa, came to work out with you both a couple of times, which causes him to roll his eyes, “Looks like I’ve taught you everything I know and you still fall behind a bit.” you smirk as he whips his head up to look at you.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” he spits out before standing up.

Your smirk turns into a full-on shit-eating grin as you look up at him from the floor “How is it a lie? I’m still stronger than you.” You tease him, making his eyebrow twitch.

“You are not stronger than me.” He chuckles, only a bit offended before turning around to grab his water bottle as an idea pops into your head.

As Iwaizumi drinks his water, you slowly and quietly stand up and walk behind him. Once directly behind him, you snake your arms around his waist and lift him up, causing a high-pitched yelp to come from his mouth which causes you to burst out laughing and accidentally drop him on the ground, making him lose his balance which leads to him falling over.

After a few more seconds of your non-stop laughing to the point where your eyes are squeezed shut with tears poking out from the corners, Iwaizumi takes this as an opportunity to take revenge and scoop you up bridal style in his own two arms.

This action makes you stop laughing as shock takes over you with your face turning a bright shade of pink, Iwaizumi smiles at you.

“You may be able to lift me a few inches off the ground, but that doesn’t mean anything as long as I’m able to lift you,” He says in a voice that's soft and soothing to your ears before placing you back on the ground slowly.

You try to gain your composure as fast as you can but only fail when he takes your hand in his and looks directly into your eyes with a look you’ve never seen from him before. A look of adoration.

“Let me take you to dinner after we leave?” Iwaizumi asks you, with hope in his voice, and after a few moments of shock and silence, you lightly punch his chest before nuzzling your face into it so he wouldn’t see your face, which was still the pinkest shade possible.

“Okay, but I get to choose where we eat.” Finally, you mutter out an answer into his chest, and all he can do is hug you while lifting you up into the air once again.

With that, you and Iwaizumi go out to dinner and talk and laugh before you both decide to make it official.

After dinner, you walk hand in hand back to your place, happy that you’ve found each other, but of course, you can’t let this be too sappy of a moment, so you let go of his hand and step out in front of him.

“So! What’s it like having a girlfriend that’s stronger than you?” You tease him with your signature grin, making him roll his eyes before pulling you into his arms.

“It feels pretty great actually.” Iwaizumi mumbles out, causing you to cheer and pump your fist into the air as he finally admitsthat you’re stronger than him.

You’re only stronger than him by a bit, but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to see you smile your goofy smile more.

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.

A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol

A/N 2 - All the chapters are named after drinks. The intensity of the chapter depends on the drink I chose for the title :) and banners are by @cafekitsune

TW: Alcohol (duh), mentions of drugs, roofies, abuse, mentions of abuse/r@pe, smoking, Ruby (she’s a warning in itself), unhinged group chat (also a warning in itself)

two - daiquiri

Megolodon: Cassieeee

Casanova: What?

Megolodon: You’re late

You: Yeahhhh, we’ve been waiting for weeks

Ben Dover: Sabbatical’s over, brother

Casanova: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Ruby-gina George: To hell with fifteen minutes, get your ass over here

Megolodon: Listen to the nice lady

Ruby-gina George: Shut up

Megolodon: Bite me

Ruby-gina George: Keep it up and I just might

Megolodon: I bet you’d like to

bDe: didn’t know you two swung that way

You: Neither did I

Ruby-gina George: WAIT NO

ScarJo: That’s news to me

Ben Dover: News to all of us, darling

Queen B: I leave for FIVE MINUTES and we’re already out of the closet

Ruby-gina George: NO CLOSETS

Ruby-gina George: HELL NO

Ruby-gina George: NO CLOSETS

Megolodon: THAT WASN’T THE MEANING-

ScarJo: We accept you, dw

Ruby-gina George: die in a hole

bDe: sounds like overcompensating

Ruby-gina George: ALL OF YOU DIE IN A HOLE

The clink of glasses filled the atmosphere, along with merry shouts, whistles and cheers as glass after glass slammed down onto the counter. But it wasn’t patrons, no. Afternoons were always chilled out, since not many patrons stopped by. The evenings always got the raunchiest. So here you all were, egging on Castiel and Benny in a shot contest. There were five shots of the Roadhouse’s strongest bottle of hard liquor, and you were all seeing who could down them the fastest. None of the people in the room were lightweights. There were lightweights, heavyweights, and then there were the bartenders at the Roadhouse, who Meg liked to call ‘jumbo-weights’.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” You were yelling, your voice mixed with those of Dean, Meg, Bela, Ruby and Jo. Benny finished first, slamming down the shot glass and whooping loudly, not even that buzzed while Cas dejectedly sipped his last shot, having missed by the fraction of a second.

“Cassie, sweetie, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Meg purred, gripping Cas’ shoulders tightly from behind. “You’re out of practice.”

“Or maybe I’m just good at throwing ‘em back.” Benny smirked, but then his smile dropped. “That sounded better in my head.”

“Glad we can agree.” You snickered, then cleared up the shot glasses. “C’mon, what next?”

“Meg.” Ruby shot up from her seat, beckoning her over. “You. Me. Shot challenge. Now.”

“So polite.” Meg drawled, but got up anyway, a familiar sultry smile on her lips as she lined up for the competition. “Bring it on, darling, I can do this in my sleep.” Benny racked the shots, a giggle coming from your mouth as Dean awkwardly looked to Castiel.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” Dean smiled, putting his hand out. “Dean. Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak, but everyone calls me Cas.” Cas shook Dean’s hand, finding himself warming up to this stranger.

“Cas.” Dean repeated under his breath, then nodded. “Alright, Cas. Let’s get you some water to wash down that hard liquor.”

“That would be ideal.” Cas nodded, instantly following Dean. In the meantime, Ruby and Meg were slamming back shots, and Ruby was just tagging behind Meg. You were egging them on, but you noticed something. Ruby usually downed shots easy as breathing. Now she wasn’t, which confused you. However, you brushed it off. It couldn’t be something bad. Your resident Regina George always was tough as hell.

Ruby-gina George: Been there, done that messed around

Megolodon: I'm having fun, don't put me down

Ruby-gina George: I'll never let you sweep me off my feet

Megolodon: THIS TIME BABY, I’LL BE BULLETPROOFFFFFF

You: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUUUUUUU

bDe: *dies of laughter*

ScarJo: I’ve been on a beer run for FIVE MINUTES and y’all go mad

Queen B: Tsk tsk, eyes on the road, hon

ScarJo: Joke’s on you, I’m in the store

Ben Dover: Damn, how’d you get there so fast

ScarJo: I stole the keys to Val

Queen B: explosion incoming-

You: You did WHAT?!

ScarJo: I’M SORRY SHE’S A FAST CAR

You: YOU’RE GONNA PAY

Megolodon: Girlie, it’s just a car

Ruby-gina George: how dare you, Val’s a masterpiece

Megolodon: I mean, she shouldn’t take it that heavily

bDe: no she absolutely should, go to town sweetheart

You: THANK YOU

Ben Dover: Dean, brother, don’t encourage that behaviour

bDe: i will

Ben Dover: What if someone stole your car, then

bDe: murder

ScarJo: oh wow

You: SOMEONE GETS IT

bDe: lots of murder

Ben Dover: Brother-

bDe: torture first

bDe: lots of torture, then a whole lotta murder

ScarJo: Benny, you chose the wrong role models

You: shut up, YOU TOOK VAL

bDe: then more murder, and i’m gonna throw the bodies in a lake, no one will ever know

Ruby-gina George: Hold up, I’m coming with you

You: Jo, I’ve got your gravestone prepped

ScarJo: And you say we’re unhinged

You: Get your ass back to the roadhouse

bDe: i’ll get away with it, I swear

Megolodon: Why am I actually enjoying this

bDe: if I can’t have my baby, no one can

Evenings were always the more raunchy of times at the Roadhouse. The bar was now full of chatting passers-by, girls dressed in skimpy clothes and biker boys with tattoos winding around their necks. The shift today was yours, Ruby’s, Dean’s and Meg’s. There were an overwhelming amount of females working at the Roadhouse, if you were incredibly honest. As for the employees not working behind the bar, they were roughing it up at a booth, hollering and hooting like owls at a baseball game.

“So, darlin’, what do you do in your free time?” Dean asked you, cleaning out a glass with a rag and shooting a wink to a couple of giggling girls nearby. You poured a whiskey for a patron, sliding it across the table.

“Well, I’m a big fan of joyrides.” You answered with a goofy grin. “My Mustang’s always fun to take a spin in.” The mention of your Mustang got Dean’s eyebrows up to his hairline as he pointed out of the window.

“That beaut’s yours?” He exclaimed in disbelief, laughing. “Damn. That’s a serious muscle car.”

“Yeah, my Valkyrie. Val’s my sweetheart, always will be.” You looked up wistfully at the mention of your beloved car. “And your Chevy Impala, she’s absolutely gorgeous. I could listen to her purr all day.”

“That’s my Baby.” He bore the same wistful look you did, then nudged you. “We should take ‘em out for spins. Y’know, joyrides.”

“You sure?” You chuckled, looking up at him. “I don’t drive easy.”

“Even better.” He gave you a little wink paired with a click of his tongue. He flipped a bottle in his hand, pouring a whiskey shot expertly and handing it to you. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” You took the shot with a chuckle, sending the glass over to the sink. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“You’re very welcome.” He poured himself a shot and downed it, and you couldn’t help but focus slightly on his pouty, pink lips, almost hyper-fixating on them. But you tore your eyes away to serve a customer at the bar, a rather shady-looking guy who had a snake tattoo on his neck. He was also wearing sunglasses inside, which had Dean raising an eyebrow.

“You know who wears sunglasses inside?” He muttered into your ear as the man ordered a glass of Jack Daniel’s with his eyes on Meg. “Blind people… and douchebags.”

“I can’t fault you for that logic.” You laughed, pouring the man a glass and passing it to him as you turned back to Dean. “About that joyride, I’m down.”

His eyes lit up, a puppy-like grin now on his face as he fully faced you, elbow leaning on the counter. You couldn’t help but stare deep into those mossy eyes, mirroring the infectious smile on his face just as Meg stumbled up to you both with a groggy smile on your face, whiskey glass clutched tightly in her hand.

“You t-two look so… cute.” She giggled, leaning heavily on you. You saw the glass cup in her hand, and you caught a whiff of… Jack Daniel’s? “Smilin’ at each other, lovin’ each other, so adorable!” You raised an eyebrow, holding her steady as she continued to ramble. “You should marry each other. Ugh, I feel so… weird.”

“Does Meg usually get this slammed?” Dean whispered, and you shook your head, confused. That’s when Ruby sprang out from behind the bar, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his neck and slamming his head roughly down on the counter. “Woah, damn!”

“Ruby!” You gasped, but she snatched the glass from your hands and showed you the contents. There was a powdery white substance in it that you instantly recognised. “Damn it- she’s been roofied.”

“Bastard thought he was smooth with it.” She growled, holding the guy down. “It takes Meg a lot of strong tequila and a Long Island to make her that slammed.”

“I’m surprised you know that, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m callin’ the police. Get this jackass locked up.” Dean glared daggers at who could’ve been Meg’s potential assaulter as he dialled the emergency number and explained the situation. Meg clung onto you, and you felt bad for her as you went to haul her off to bed, entertaining her every mindless babble about something or the other.

“You’re pretty.” Meg slurred as she hobbled with you. “You look like Rubes. She’s pretty too. Very pretty.”

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous.” You replied dryly, not out of disdain for Ruby but rather out of extreme concern for your friend. “Absolutely stunning.” Though there was part truth in that. You’d always wanted to be like Ruby- not give much of a damn. Able to speak every weird and/or rude comment that came to her mind and everyone would worship her for it. She could talk openly about where she came from, confidently, with a flick of her blonde hair and my-give-a-hoots-are-on-vacation attitude, but you weren’t inclined to open your mouth about it. “Let’s get you in here.”

You opened the door to your bedroom, limping to the bed and just letting Meg flop- “Wheeeeee!” She squealed as she went, but then was out cold the moment her face hit the mattress. You smiled at her antics despite the seriousness of the situation, drawing up your blanket and tucking her in, staying with her for a bit until you were sure she was ok. Then, as you descended the stairs, you’d found that the gang had cleared out the bar, which was helpful in the current climate. Especially now that the dude had been carted off to the nearest station.

You made eye contact with Ruby, who looked livid, but softened slightly when she saw you. “Is she ok?” She asked expectantly, and the tension seemed to lift a fraction when you nodded.

“We’re gonna have to tell my mom about this.” Jo sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. “She’s gonna be pissed.”

“The dude who tried his luck on Meg?” Dean shrugged, his brow furrowed a tad in concern. “His luck’s gonna say adiós once Ellen gets her hands on him.”

A few days later, you were up early, sat talking to Dean in one of the booths before you went on your joyride. The sun filtered in through rickety blinds, illuminating Dean’s emerald eyes as they gazed at you in a way that would bore through your soul. You hadn’t known Dean for more than a week, but he was such an easy person to be around. He was witty, but sometimes had trouble coming up with comebacks when flustered, had an easy demeanour while also seemingly being kind of lost himself. He was like a walking contradiction, and it intrigued you to no end. He could look like a sharp-jawed, drop dead gorgeous heartbreaker, but in his grey Henley, he just looked soft and innocent. Handsome and sweet.

Though, you knew he was too good for you. What with his smooth words, caring personality and overall just being Dean. You were, if anyone find out where you came from, a personified chessboard. Your entire being was checkered with black and white.

“C’mon.” He stood up, looking to the jukebox on the other side of the room. “Let’s dance.”

“Let’s what, sorry?” Your eyebrows raised slightly as he jogged over to the jukebox, playing Tiny Dancer by Elton John and outstretching his hand for you. “Oh, no, I’m not a dancer.”

“C’mon, don’t leave me hangin’ here.” Dean’s outstretched hand beckoned you over almost like a siren’s call, and what with his boyish grin, the charming sparkle in his eyes and the overall feeling of being wanted got you up with him and taking his calloused hand in your own, skin tingling with the feel of the ring on his finger, his own feeling sparks upon the silver band on your hand pressing against his warm skin. He drew you close, his arm around your waist in a sort of non-pervy way, like he wasn’t trying to force himself on you.

“Warning. I might step on your toes.” You gave him a look which was playfully serious, but Dean just gave you a cocky grin. Damn that smile.

“Just follow me, sweetheart, and you’ll be fine.” He raised the other hand that was already interlocked with his, the low rumble of his voice putting you at ease as he swayed you both from side to side, moving in a circle with a look in his eyes that he couldn’t explain as he gazed down at you. “See? You’re a goddamn natural.”

“Maybe I have a good teacher.” You replied smoothly, which seemed to stroke his ego, as he shot you a wink and a click of his tongue.

“Damn right, you do.” Dean gave you a bashful chuckle, then bit his lip as he smiled, both of you continuing the slow spin in a circle while Elton’s mellow voice hazed the atmosphere. “I’m gonna spin you, ok?”

“Don’t drop me.” You quipped, and he shook his head with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’.” He spun you out and then in, his arms crossed over your front.

“Did you have special dance lessons?” You asked with a giggle, holding his hands, his fingers gently rubbing and playing with yours. “You’re really good at this.”

“Well, my friend Bobby taught me.” Dean sighed into your ear, a low chuckle falling past his lips. “He’s a grouchy ol’ bastard, but I had a prom date that I needed to impress. Sadly, I never got to go with her. I was… sick… on the night of prom.” You brushed off the brief hesitancy, instead enjoying this brief moment of calm. Dean could tell that your nerves were frazzled from the events of Wednesday night. That’s the great thing about Dean. He reads people easily, all for his insistence on having no emotional intelligence whatsoever. You assumed that this was a distraction method.

“Ellen’s always been one for dancing.” You mentioned, shrugging as you rocked from side to side. You saw Ellen as practically a second mom. She took you in, and Benny, when you needed it. But she was lonely, and you were pained to see her like that. “But she hasn’t in a while. Not since she lost her husband.”

“Huh.” Dean’s voice had an intrigued tone to it. Like he had an idea. “We should set ‘em up.”

“Ellen… and this Bobby of yours?”

“Yeah, they’re the same age, both lonely old souls - with all due respect - and they would get along.” He tilted your head with his index so you’d look at him and his charismatic smirk, just begging you to say yes. “Whaddya say we play matchmaker, sweetheart?”

You found yourself conceding quickly to this man’s goddamn charms. “Ok, fine. But if this goes south, you’re to blame.”

“Duly noted.” He laughed, nodding proudly and squeezing your hand. “That deserves another spin.” He spun you again, so then you were facing him. “Y’know, I’m kinda honoured. Pretty lady such as you, dancin’ with a grunt like me… gives a man all sorts of ideas.”

“Are you flirting with me, Dean?” You raised a playful eyebrow, again involuntarily finding yourself giggling like a lovesick schoolgirl at his smooth words.

“Maybe.”

“That’s rather bold.”

“I don’t see you complaining.” You both locked eyes for a moment, then burst out into laughter, his lower register mixing well with yours in the dim, naturally lit room.

You were happy with this man. Really happy, that you’d found a good friend. You found a good friend in Dean Winchester.

And he’d found a new home in you.

The purr of Baby’s engine.

The windows rolled down and blowing through your hair.

Guns ‘n’ Roses’ ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ playing on a cassette tape.

All of it had you hooked on an impossibly addictive high, hopped up on the euphoria of singing the lyrics at the top of your lungs with Dean in the driver’s seat, a grin that could only connote inner nostalgia on his face as you both belted out the words off by heart. The feeling of the wind on your face, the thrill of how fast Baby was speeding down the highway and the sensation of being unchained… it all got you above the altitude of a kite.

Far above.

Dean’s eyes were on you when he wasn’t looking at the road, admiring the way the light hit the curve of your face and illuminated your eyes. He took in your sweet voice, filling him like a warm hug. He’d not known you for long, but to him, you were home. Someone he could turn to.

He found himself hooked on that pretty smile. Your smooth words that contrasted your otherwise humble nature. How one second you could be the calming force and next you’re busting out your wild side like nobody’s business. You seemed so… sure… of who you were. So easy on a misguided soul like him.

After his baby brother went to Stanford, his father didn’t see much point of keeping him there. John was a drunk, and a notoriously violent one at that, and he’d prevented Dean from going to college so he could take care of Sam. But his Sammy was all grown up, and he didn’t need Dean anymore. That broke him in pieces, and made him desperate to find someone to pick them up because he’d lost them.

He turned to you with a wide grin, meeting your eyes as the final chorus blared on the radio. There was no place you two would rather have been right now than here, just letting loose and having fun. Neither of you were allowed to be kids. Sammy was Dean’s reminder, and the ring on your finger was yours.

Painful reminders, but they were both ones you couldn’t let go.

Then Dean switched the cassette tape once the final notes rolled out, Eye of the Tiger playing loud and proud on the speakers.

This was like trying to get Sammy to eat his proteins when he was a kid. Only harder.

“C’mon, Bobby, it’s just a date.” Dean reasoned, chuckling slightly at his surrogate father sat in Baby’s passenger seat and looking rather like a pug with the grumpy face he had on. “You’re gonna sit down, be yourself and everything’ll go smooth like butter.”

Bobby bristled, glaring daggers at Dean, lips pursed. “See, that’s easy to say when you’re not the one on this date, boy. She’s gonna be some classy broad who orders a pinot noir, or a Chateau Margaux or whatever-the-hell, and I’m gonna be stuck wonderin’ what the hell all these fancy names mean.”

“See, you don’t know until you try.”

“Don’t give me that chick flick crap, you idjit.”

“Look, all I’m saying is don’t get too hopped up on the idea of being perfect for Ellen.” Dean shrugged. “Be cool, yeah, and flatter her, give her some compliments and make her feel at home, but don’t go saying things like-”

“This sucks balls.” Bobby grumbled, not at all to Dean’s surprise.

“See? Don’t say that.” He saw Ellen in the rear view mirror, and clapped Bobby’s shoulder. “Ok, Bobby, you’re up. Knock her socks off for me, yeah?”

Bobby had no choice but to get out of the car, hoping that he didn’t look like a fool, or maybe his gelled back hair was neat and didn’t have a dreaded flyaway. That his collar wasn’t popped. That his jeans didn’t have some unexplained stain on them. He stepped to Ellen, who gave him a warm smile. “Balls.” He muttered under his breath. She really did look like a classy lady, which sent his embarrassment into overdrive.

“Hi, I’m Ellen.” She introduced, her voice smooth as honey and making Bobby even more nervous that yes, this woman was definitely far above his league.

“Bobby.” He replied stiffly, but then held out his arm. “Shall we?”

“Guess so.” They linked arms, striding towards the restaurant, where you and Dean had made a reservation. When the two were guided to their table, they were provided with a drinks menu. Ellen didn’t even take one minute scanning it, flicking through at the speed of light and announcing that she knew what she wanted. Bobby, however, was stumped. Wine? Pinot grigio? Champagne? But there were so many options for one champagne. Why couldn’t the damn drink options be more simple? Beer was definitely out of the question, though his mouth watered and taste buds craved for the Heineken embossed in gold on the menu.

But he knew that he wanted the medium rare steak, announcing that to Ellen, who replied that she’d be having sea bass fillets with specialised dressing and garnish which sounded rather fancy. It did nothing to soothe Bobby’s poor nerves. Ellen, meanwhile, was torn between remaining soft spoken with this man or being, y’know, herself. He seemed decent, and considerate, with the way he carefully looked over the drinks and food menus.

“Madam, sir, can I take your order?” A waiter with a flip notebook arrived beside them, and Bobby gestured for Ellen to speak, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“The sea bass fillet with the special dressing and garnish,” Ellen answered smoothly, her eyes flicking to Bobby to gauge his reaction to the next words, “and one Heineken.”

The choice of drink lifted Bobby’s spirits instantly, and that gave him the green light to not strive to impress the beautiful lady across from him. “And I’ll have the steak, medium rare. And as for the drink, I’ll have what the lady’s having.”

“Of course.” The waiter took the menus and left the table, inciting a moment for the two to laugh at their own anxiety.

“You thought I’d be one of those high-horse, classy women, didn’t you?” Ellen guessed, and Bobby nodded bashfully.

“Guilty. I haven’t done this in a long while.” He chuckled, warming up to Ellen quickly. “You’re a woman after my own heart. Always loved a good Heineken.”

“You and me both.”

After they’d had dinner, they exited the restaurant, but instead of parting ways, Bobby offered his arm once more to Ellen. “Mind walking for a while with this ol’ fool?”

“Not at all.”

NEXT UP:

“Jo.” Ruby sat down in front of Jo, who was in animated conversation with Charlie. They both turned to her in surprise and identical raised eyebrows. “And you, Charlie. I need advice.”

Maybe Charlie could help. After all, she was an expert in the field Ruby needed advice on. This was an extremely unfamiliar topic, even though she’d grown up in a family full of suspiciously close women.

Oh, god, this was nerve wracking.

Jo looked concerned, but nodded, and Charlie did the same. “Sure, go ahead.” Jo gestured for Ruby to continue, while Charlie sat eagerly forward in her seat, waiting for Ruby to speak.

“Ok.” She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly flicking to Meg. “What if… what if I…”

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[zilabee]

Tony Bramwell on Brian:

- Brian dropped in at the Cavern and, spoiled for choice, fell in love at first sight with each of the Beatles in turn

- Brian almost promised to love, honour and obey them.

- He never publicly showed his embarrassment with poor deals, but one could tell something wasn’t right because inside, he anguished. Chewed his knuckles and grew pale.

- He was a fiercely loyal and honourable friend to those he loved, and ruthless toward those he despised

- He was shy to the point of blushing and stammering, and theatrical to the point of ranting and frothing at the mouth

- His biggest problem, perhaps his only real problem, was that he was homosexual in a still very unenlightened era. It kept getting in the way. Whenever he sat down for a meeting with heavyweights like Sir Joseph Lockwood at EMI, or whoever, he felt they all knew. “They’re talking behind my back, Tony,” Brian said. “They don’t respect me.”

- Paul was fond of Brian and thought he was the best possible manager: one who was courteous, who didn’t interfere with their private lives, but achieved all he said he would do. He never criticized him—none of us did. Brian was a god.  (It was only later that the façade cracked a bit, but even then we loved him. He was like family, and you accept your family for what they are and forgive them most anything.)

- his wonderfully fertile mind continuously thinking up innovative ideas and then worrying about them

- Brian was so different when around his beloved protégés. He became one of them. He was a friend, a chum, charming, trustworthy and kind. He set out to do what he promised and they all said it would never have happened without him.

- Brian bought an off-the-shelf company named Suba Films, which I virtually ran. It was way ahead of its time, the only independent company in England making music videos

- Whenever things got raunchy and out of hand around us, he would make his excuses and leave. At times, he almost ran.

- [on writing his biography]: “You don’t think John will think I’m raining on his parade, do you?” he asked hesitantly.

- I believe that Brian’s paranoia over the Beatles’ contract and his heavy use of drugs led him to think that it was only a matter of time before everything came tumbling down and he would be left standing in the ruins, with people pointing their fingers like kids in a playground.

- He was seriously ill and desperately sought to escape from the circus of his own creation.

- He was tormented by the idea of letting down his beloved Cilla and the Beatles, particularly John.

- He underwent deep sleep therapies at the Priory, being put under for days at a time with heavy drugs.

- Whether he managed the Beatles or not, he would still get 25 percent of their earnings from record sales for nine years. This subtlety had somehow escaped the Beatles, but it bothered Brian. It gnawed at his conscience because in his heart he knew he had conned them.

- [He] was abnormally distressed, convincing himself that they weren’t going to sign up again because they loathed him. Going through months of paranoia, he looked for reasons and forlornly asked the question, “Don’t they like me anymore?”

- It was so silly because it wasn’t like that at all. At different times, all of them commented to me that they would never have signed another contract as “Beatles” but they would have signed individually with Brian.

- “No, I think John hates me now. I don’t know what I’ll do if they don’t sign. What will people think? I can see the headlines now: EPSTEIN DUMPED BY BEATLES.”

- He was now seriously unhappy, not just troubled. His personality had radically changed.

- Brian had resident nurses, doctors who stayed, psychiatrists who lived in, all crowded into that little doll’s house, getting on each other’s nerves. At times he’d make an effort. He would sweet-talk everyone and then escape when they weren’t looking.

- [after Brian's death] Joanne was in shock. She had seen him first. The doors had been broken down and there he was, curled up on his side in bed with Saturday’s mail lying next to him. “We all knew at once that he was dead, but I heard myself say, ‘It’s all right, he’s just asleep. He’s fine,’ ” she said.

- It was unbelievable that the man who had got all this going—the vast money-making machine and the culture shock that had changed the world—was gone.

- The Summer of Love was over and autumn coming.

- I have been asked many times why it was that the Beatles didn’t just hire an office manager to handle their business affairs and pay him or her a salary. It would have made sense. But it never occurred to them. They just went blindly on, trying to find someone to replace Brian, like it was some kind of law. They seemed to think that they had to have a manager, to whom they had to give 25 percent of their gross income, or they’d be arrested or drummed out of the Brownies.

[sailorblossoms]

Baz's raised eyebrow:

(yet another "Simon identifies as 'Baz-sexual' for very good reasons' post)

few things have annoyed me more with these books than when people do not take Simon's "I don't know anything about anything but maybe I'm just a Baz-sexual" comments seriously (dismissing it with a combination of not paying attention to what he's putting down and good old confirmation bias). He even says it in less "goofy" ways with lines such as "he's the only person I have ever wanted" (in the context of thinking about having sex) (note the emphasis on ever) (yes, it's one of the clues saying he didn't want to have it with Agatha, in case it's not clear)

"Like Baz has only ever wanted Simon, Simon has only ever wanted Baz," is necessary to bring up before I get to my point here. I have seen Simon being read as in love or attracted to Agatha ("he must have been or else how they had sex?"... I mean, Simon tells you why it happened without attraction, but even if he didn't, we could make an alphabetized list of reasons it can happen without it, the desire to fit in is no joke) or the idea of Simon liking all sorts of girls, including the girl he pointedly doesn't notice despite her being obvious to others, for the sake of drama and conflict. I have wondered if they don't believe the characters, or if they find the highlighted sentence here boring. "It's boring if the characters only want each other," "in real life people want multiple people" – indeed, but not everyone is wired the same (and why are we stuck on "real life" so much anyway in stories about half-dragon and vampire boys falling in love). But it's not like this sentence is without conflict. Note Baz's eyebrow...

In CO, when Simon says Trixie is cute, Baz's reaction is a boyish "I'm going to puke" comment, which is likely part of how he dealt with jealousy and thinking Simon was straight for years: masking his feelings with "harsh" or sort of "edgy" jokes (probably not the right words to use, but getting too hung up on precise wording is the reason I never finish these posts). In awtwb, Simon calls Pippa cute, and Baz raises an eyebrow...

By those reactions, we could say the idea of Simon calling someone cute because he finds them attractive crosses Baz's mind – or is something he feels in some way, even if the thought doesn't explicitly cross his mind. It's something the reader might assume as well... however, I don't think the way Simon uses cute – which can be used in many different situations – says anything about attraction for him. I mean, a gay man can see a girl being cute or gorgeous as well – Baz certainly does! (attraction is portrayed in these books as thoughts derailed, repetition, sentences being cut off, fixating in a detail no one else notices like they do – you see it with Baz and Simon, Agatha and Niamh, Shepard and Penny. Shep doesn't just call Penny cute – he loses his entire goddamn mind for a whole page about her cuteness and her knees. It's not just a passing comment).

I don't think those scenes when Simon says "cute" is highlighting something about him, other than the fact that he's able to note cuteness. I think it's saying more about Baz's insecurities (I know I once posted something long about it somewhere...) Baz brings attention to it in a way with his reactions... because he's bothered by it. It's something that's sort of hidden and sort of contained, but it's there.

Baz doesn't find himself desirable, partly because of his vampiric nature. But part of it is also about the complicated and messy fear that perhaps... Simon has a problem with being with a man (I know I have unpacked this in other posts, finding them though...). Perhaps "a girl would be better" (It's messier with boys than with girls, it's a thought that comes out before he catches himself with "I don't actually know anything about being with boys or girls".... "I don't know anything about being in a relationship," he says, while still being able to catch there was something wrong with Agatha and Simon's relationship when Simon talks about – because Simon will process things he would rather avoid when it's about opening up to Baz, he wants Baz to know things that would help Baz understand him better, even if he himself would rather not understand... still Baz can't let go of the programming of all those years believing in the golden couple – he has spent a longer time believing that than dating Simon, after all) (Agatha is alive and beautiful, the sort of beauty that's used to "embody" "desirability".... and Baz is "not alive"...) (as a side note, have you noticed the idea – or the actual action – of sex with Agatha is used both with Simon and Baz to indicate a lack of desire toward women?)...

While Simon thinks of Baz as the only person he has ever wanted – Baz is as desirable as it gets for him – Baz struggles with feeling desirable at all. Baz doubts and wonders and has to catch himself – even if he doesn't notice he's doing that. Even if he doesn't conciously think "a beautiful girl who is alive is more preferable than me, a gay male vampire." That is a far more interesting conflict than Baz having legit reasons to be jealous, I think. The fact that he has truly nothing to feel jealous about, and yet... he just can’t help it. It's hard to go against years of programming, of going against the idea that everything about yourself is undesirable and it's better to hide it – another way he matches with Simon. They also match in their insecurities, with small differences: Baz is so amazing and attractive while Simon doesn't feel like he's good enough for him, he can do better than him, etc... while Baz clearly only has eyes for Simon, Simon feels like Baz is merely stuck with him. And the conflict here is that you think "they need to TALK and voice their thoughts for the love of god, what do you mean Baz doesn't know Simon sees him as the love of all his lives??"... talking is not enough. That Simon and Baz only have eyes for each other is not without conflict. Sometimes we need to keep hearing some things, and even then... the fears and insecurities don't go away. Especially when we have spent a really long time believing ourselves to be unwanted, undesirable, something to be hidden. When we have been exposed to things that confirmed those beliefs for longer than we have been exposed to things that challenge them