#and just…. kept watching them. because apparently i hate myself

[pettygods]

been having a rough time of it mentally lately lads. how am i meant to work in these conditions

[catastrxblues]

good morning it is now 4 am and i have just finished watching atonement good night

[andivmg]

My experience with Luke (Punz)

CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent

I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.

this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.

If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.

So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.

Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.

In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.

Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.

Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.

He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.

There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.

Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.

On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.

I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.

I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA

[thankskenpenders]

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

[improbable-outset]

📂 '𝐓𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Fingering, Bratty!Reader, Miguel humbling you, innuendos, finger licking, orgasm denial. This can be read as fwb or established relationship 🤭 I kept it vague here but I prefer the former

𝐀/𝐍: Okay, a seasonal special fic even though I don’t celebrate Christmas myself lol. This is more smut heavy than festive. I had fun with this one though icl

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s the holiday season and for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to rile Miguel up more than you usually do. That was until you were taken back to his lab and he gained the upper hand over you.

He couldn’t remember how he even allowed something like this to happen in his sanctuary. Something so unnecessary, so tedious. A waste of time really.

Initially, it was Peter who came up to him and asked about throwing a party in the Spider Society cafeteria.

Immediately declined.

His flamboyant demeanor and exasperated tone only added to Miguel’s accumulating annoyance. But the following day, you approached him to ask the same question but this time around, he was very hesitant to say no.

But he didn’t accept it so easily either. Not without enough persuasion and coaxing from you. He didn’t need to think too deeply to know that you both definitely discussed this beforehand and planned on how you were going to approach him.

How insufferable. Reluctantly he gave in.

Now here he was, leaning against the far corner of the cafeteria with the place far too festive for his liking.

He gripped in vexation onto the plastic cup that was half-filled with booze in his hand, crinkling the plastic. He took a prolonged sip, hoping he could drown himself with enough alcohol to blur out the scene that was folding in front of him right now.

The room filled with the sounds of laughter and banter from the Spider People that surrounded him.

Even with some of them greeting him, he still felt disconnected from it all, like a fish out of water. Everyone’s ease at each other’s company made his own solitude more apparent.

He could be back in HQ in the familiar confinement of his office. Even if he didn’t like looking at the monitors and watching the multiverse all day, at least he was comfortable.

The only reason he was here right now was because he could use this as an excuse to admire you. Why did he have to give in to you like this? Why were you his biggest weakness? Your persuasive nature, while it can be irksome at times, held a strange allure and he hated that it had him on a chokehold.

After roaming his eyes around the crown, he finally caught sight of you. As expected, you were engaged in a hearty conversation with a group of Spider People, including Peter and Jess.

You always drew people in like a magnetic force and though Miguel hated being too social, he still found you captivating. As you graced through the room, you left a trail of laughter and sweetness behind you.

Your gaze eventually fell on him, where he stood in the corner of the room before you glided your way to him through the maze of the crowd, carrying the warm air with you.

“I know this isn’t your type of scene but you don’t need to be sulking in the corner like that.” You quipped as you leaned against the wall beside him. You had your spider suit on, just like everyone else, in addition to a few red and green tinsel around your wrist and your hair that shimmered under the cafeteria lighting.

“I’m not sulking.” He resorted back, giving you a sideways glance to maintain his eye contact, instead of turning to fully face you. The last thing he wanted was to be caught staring at you.

You wavered your hands in response, almost dismissing his comment. “Right, right. Observing, brooding — same difference.”

“What are you trying to get out of this?”

“Nothing— you think I’m that cruel that I’d try to prod something out of you.” You said, moving from your position so you were standing in front of him, leaving him no choice but to look down on you. “You can let loose a little, you know. You might enjoy it.” Even with the aroma of various food from the buffet lingering in the air, Miguel still caught a whiff of your scent that overshadowed it all, which triggered a sudden rush of heat to reach his cock under his digital suit— but not enough to give him a hard on, thankfully.

“I find enjoyment in…other things. Not festive gatherings.” He countered, attempting to maintain his composure despite your subtle teasing. The way you were leaning in wasn’t helping his case.

“Shame. I’d assume you’d loosen up especially since it is the holidays,”

He only recoiled in response. “You’re relentless.”

You were more than that. The past few days before this event, you’ve been progressively trying to push his buttons; it only gotten worse each day.

It started off when a new recruit joined the Spider Society and you volunteered to be his mentor and give him private sessions. He knew you only did it to flicker the flame of jealousy within him.

Fortunately he managed to keep his shit together and was nonchalant about the situation, knowing it would disappoint you to see no reaction out of him.

But then you would resort to being more physical with your teasing.

You would squeeze past him and ‘accidentally’ brush your ass against his crotch. At first he thought it was a coincidence until you tried to do it again.

“Mhmm, guilty at charge. Tell you what, I'll let you stay here and sulk in the corner for a little while and then we can go back to the lab later and I’ll take the ugly Christmas sweater off of you.”

Shocking hell, please do.

You were killing him but he wasn’t going to let you get to his head that easy.

“Thanks for the privilege…” he mumbled lowly into his cup he had been nursing, before taking another swing.

You flashed a smile in response before mingling back into the crowd. Miguel could only chew on his lower lip to suppress the amusing smirk that tugged on his lips.

The next few hours felt stretched out. But finally, he was back in the privacy of his lab with you. The door closed behind with a quiet click before Miguel instructed Lyla to lock it.

It was easy to tell that the decor in the lab was a reflection of Miguel’s personality: equipment was stringently organised with no additional decorations, showcasing his no-nonsense approach to his work. The room ambiance was a testament to his preference for efficiency and purpose, with low lighting for his sensitive eyes.

Miguel lifted you up from the waist, his muscles flexing briefly, before placing you on one of the empty countertops.

“You know, if I had to take a wild guess, I’d say you were purposely sulking just so I could save you back there,” you commented, a daring tone in your voice. A coy grin played on your lips as you watched him intently. Miguel overlooked your tease and leaned in until he was eye level with you.

“You realise I can see right through you. I noticed your behaviour over the past few days and how bratty you’ve been acting.” He was staring intently at you to catch any falter in your expression. Even if you did have the upper hand over him the last few days, this was all still amusing to him, watching the way you acted.

“Oh, should I dial it down for you?”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it”

He drew himself closer until his lips were close enough to brush against yours. His hands glided along your sides before grasping your waist to pull you close.

He wasn’t going to kiss you, not yet. If he was going to get you back for teasing him, he was going to drag this out for as long as he could, just to throw you off and see how long you’d last.

The ghost of your exhales from your parted lips fanned against his before you pulled your face away completely and slipped from his grasp and got yourself down from the desk, leaving him perplexed.

“Do you want some empanadas?” You asked, holding up a paper box stacked with napkins before flashing him a sugary smile.

Miguel had to blink a few times before he lost his composure. It took him a few heartbeats for him to fully process what just happened.

You seemed to have completely snapped him out of the sensual mood you were sharing.

“What?” His voice gave away his confusion.

“I got them from the cafeteria. I know you love them, so I got enough for both of us.”

He couldn’t tell if your sudden change of behaviour was to mess with him or if you genuinely just wanted to share some food with him. But knowing you, he had a strong sense that it was the former.

“You went from nearly eating my lips to offering empanadas in a span of two seconds.”

“I’m hungry.” You pouted before opening the box to reveal the steaming empanadas inside and held it out to him. “They’re still warm, you know.” You prodded, gesturing to him to take one.

There had to be a catch from this but nevertheless he took one of the pastries from the box. The savoury scent was too good to resist.

You helped yourself to one before you settled yourself back on the desk. He watched you to see if you had anything else planned or if you were going to dial up your seemingly bratty behaviour before he took a bite out of the pastry. You kept your gaze at him and watched him eat.

“Something you want to say?” He asked. You finished off the empanada in your hand before you spoke.

“I think chicken empanadas are better.” You stated.

Miguel couldn’t tell where you were going with this but for now, he played along.

“The beef ones are definitely better,” he replied, finishing his own empanada in his hand before wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“But the chicken one is more tender,”

“That doesn’t make it better. It’s about the flavour not texture,” he further added to his argument.

For a moment, he dismissed everything that had just happened a few minutes ago and now fully concentrated on debating on which empanadas are more delicious. This was a hill he was prepared to die on and he waited to see what you’d say next.

He didn’t expect you to lean in closer from your seat but he didn’t break eye contact with you just yet. You took another empanada from the box and held it near his mouth.

He cocked an inquisitive brow at you in response. The aroma was filling his senses again and he was getting tempted as you moved your hand closer.

“Bite,” you simply commanded. He gave in and bit down on the empanada you provided for him. He chewed carefully before looking back at you again. “It does taste better when you’re being fed by your girl though,” you teased.

“Now you’re just gloating. But I do have to agree it does taste better this way,” he said before taking another bite. The steam from the filling of the pastry wavered around his nostrils.

There was the last bit of the empanada still in your hand, small enough for him to finish off in one bite. As he took the bite, his lips lightly grazed against your fingertips. The touch was subtle but enough for you to freeze up in your seat.

It wasn’t intentional but after seeing your reaction, he couldn’t help his lips from curling up to a satisfied smirk.

He noticed there were a few flaky crumbs of the pastry on your fingers still. Before you could regain your wits and say something, he reached out and started licking the crumbs from your fingers.

He kept his eyes on you to see your reaction, watching your face fall even more.

“What are— what are you doing?” You stuttered out.

“What does it look like? I’m just cleaning up the mess on your fingers.” He continued lapping up your fingers, dragging his tongue slowly over each digit.

You couldn’t do anything but watch in astonishment. At times, Miguel had the upper hand over the two of you and would do something that would leave you speechless, just like now.

You stifled out a low moan and clamped your legs together. Miguel picked up on your body language and his breathing became shallow.

“Someone’s enjoying this more than they should…” He placed a hand on your thigh while lapping up the last flake from your thumb.

You seemed to be drawn back to the present now as your gaze was glued to his hand on your thigh. His hands glided to your inner thigh and stopped at the crease where your thigh meets your torso.

He leaned in to reach the back opening of your suit with his lips feeling the pulse on your neck increasing alarmingly fast.

His ears filled with the subtle swooshing sound of your suit now as it stretched and adjusted to its removal. After a few tugs and pulls, he finally got the suit off you.

He pulled off your panties immediately after to reveal your slick cunt.

“Shocking hell,” he let out a low chuckle at the raw sight of you.

“Be quiet-” you grunted

“Or what?” He slipped a finger through your slick and into your folds, causing you to jolt in surprise.

Your walls fluttered before squeezing around him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. You grasped onto his biceps and rested your forehead on his shoulders, a low wimped slipping from your lips.

“Mig-” you whimpered.

He continued pumping his fingers in your heated core, feeling how desperate you were for him. The way you rolled your hips in sync with his fingers got his own body responsive.

He felt the familiar heat that rushed to his pelvic area, making his cock twitch desperately under his suit.

The room filled with the squelching sounds from his fingers that was overshadowed by your low moans and it served as a fuel to his perverse delight.

He learned every crevice and every micro expression you made as you frantically tried to reach your high. And he knew how your body responded to all his touches.

He recognised that you were reaching your peak the way your walls tightened even more and how your body shuddered, preparing you for the overwhelming relief. However, just at the very last second, Miguel withdrew his fingers, immediately halting the sensation you were experiencing.

You pulled yourself away when you could feel his fingers anymore, your face dropped in shock.

“Miguel, why?” You croaked out, your voice hoarse from the bliss.

Miguel’s finger was glistening from your wetness. He used his other hand to hold your chin as he spoke.

“You really think I’m going to let you finish after the way you’ve been behaving over the last few days?” He said, almost growling now.

“You can’t be serious…”

“I’m dead serious, muñeca.”

You huffed out in frustration and Miguel felt a surge of satisfaction growing in his chest. He finally had the upper hand after being tormented by you for so long.

But he wasn’t going to do anything that would purposely hurt your emotions. This was just to give you a taste of your own medicine. You gazed back up at him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry for my behaviour. Now could you please let me finish…” you begged.

“Promise me.”

“I promise, please…” your voice was becoming more frantic now and it only made his cock twitch even further, making it harder for him to deny you even more.

He knew that if he was going to let you release now, your orgasm would be more mind shattering and intense from built up tension from the delayed climax.

He slipped two fingers in this time, feeling the warmth of your walls immediately contracting in response. Your muscles were like velvet and steel at the same time— soft and pliant yet having a vice-like grip on his fingers.

Your eyes followed his hand movement but Miguel lifted your chin with his other hand again so you would look back up at him.

“No me quintes los ojos de encima muñeca.” He instructed. You obeyed.

He watched as your face warped and your brows furrowed as you were lost in the heat of your pleasure while he let his fingers do the talking.

It didn’t take long for your walls to squeeze tighter around him along with your moans becoming more frantic, a familiar trance of your impending release.

Your body convulsed as you unraveled and his fingers were bathed from the sweet nectar of your arousal.

Miguel pulled his fingers out of your heated core, both digits now slippery and sticky from your natural lubricant.

“Be good to me and I’ll let you cum on my cock next time,” he kissed your forehead.

You, on the other hand, we’re still breathless from your bliss. You gulped before you opened your lips to speak. “Thanks for the privilege…”

Icl, I kinda ate with the dialogues here 🤭🤭 God bless c.ai otherwise I would’ve never written that empanada scene

[starbeltconstellation]

Ahh, and THERE it is… 🙃🙃

I have kept my opinions mostly to myself about The Acolyte, because I wasn’t planning on watching it until seeing where it went with the Jedi. Almost everything in SW media has an element of Jedi criticism (sadly 🙄), so I knew that would be a given with this show, so I was holding off on any total judgment until the end.

One thing I KNEW I would despise and would make me not ever watch it is if they actually made canon that the Jedi brutally murdered an entire coven of witches and COVERED UP A MASSACRE (wtf on that part, because they would NOT cover it up, even if they’d made a mistake). Apparently, it is not as bad as I feared, and they don’t destroy the Jedi Order’s characterization entirely.

But THIS line. 🥶🤢

With THIS line that is apparently written in the newest episode—that’s it. You’ve lost me.

Because THIS line is just straight up genocide apologia.

Ohhh, of course they don’t come outright and SAY, “Loool, those space wizards deserved what they got! 🤪🤪✊”, but the implication is pretty clear, all the same.

From the very beginning, I knew the showrunner of The Acolyte didn’t like the Jedi or their culture, and said that her show “wouldn’t be kind to them.”

And I could’ve lived with just the stupid vagueness of portraying the Jedi as a pompous bureaucracy (because it’s just an infectious opinion that’s spread through most of the fandom), without FULLY condemning The Acolyte and declaring the show a terrible portrayal of the Jedi and their morality and culture, along with the CANON aspects of the Dark Side being a cancer in The Force that does nothing but make people miserable and cause imbalance in The Force.

But with THIS LINE that is SO clearly a wink and a nudge to the SW fans who believe the Jedi ‘deserved what they got’… 🙄🤢… I’m sorry, but they’ve officially lost me. 😬🤷‍♀️

There are things that I’d probably like, if I ever can make myself stomach getting through the show: seeing how different cultures view The Force, seeing more of the Jedi Order/culture/Temple/how they teach their students, the characters Sol and Jecki and Yord and Osha—even seeing Jedi fighting style being so different and more defensive while trying to not use their lightsaber unless necessary, since they are in a time of peace.

But for the most part?

With THIS frankly DISGUSTING line, I can say with absolute certainty that The Acolyte is a show that I would never enjoy, and that is frankly not a welcome addition to the SW universe to me.

I appreciate the diversity inclusion, and I find myself relating to that meme that says something like: “When you hate a show, but then realize the other people that hate it are mostly bigots, 🙃🙃” because—unlike THOSE moronic dudebros—my criticism is for the story itself.

It’s a genuine shame. It’s such an interesting premise, getting to see the Jedi in the High Republic Era. But with this… I now know that The Acolyte is a show not worth my—or ANY OTHER pro Jedi fan’s time. 💔😔🤷‍♀️😬

Only thing I’ll say in defense of it: Mr. Sith (?) IS hot. 🔥❤️‍🔥

And that’s the only other praise I can give. 🤷‍♀️

Loool, sorry for the rant. I’m just so pissed off. 😭🤷‍♀️😂

[emmett6]

i am being attacked by antis.

this is emmett. emmettnet, emmettverse, emmettland, emmettundead, emmettlab. whichever blog you knew me from.

i am a whump creator. i've been in the whump community for a few years now. and now, i am unable to share my work with the community on here because people are mass reporting me for being a proshipper, and Tumblr keeps deleting my blogs as a result.

(if that isn't the reason why, i would be more than happy to get the explanation from @staff that i've been asking for.)

now, that is speculation on my part based on the timing of each termination (it's after i put my pinned post in the whump tags).

but here are the facts:

months ago, i became comfortable enough to share proshipping content. seeing as how every other artist would link their nsfw work on here, i thought it was acceptable for me to do the same so long as the preview image did not violate any rules.

an anon asked if i was a proshipper, and i said i didn't ascribe to that label*, but i agreed with the philosophy.

*i don't have any choice BUT to use it now because my posts get removed for describing what the content is

note that this anon asked multiple people in the whump community if they were proshippers. it was the same person each time, same copy-and-pasted responses.

i kept posting my proshipping content, all with links and extensive content warnings.

i started getting anon hate.

my account was terminated. after further reflection and rereading the terms of service AGAIN, i figured maybe links are not allowed and so i switched to DM only.

this time, the anon hate was consistent. every week was something new. every day felt like bracing myself to open my inbox. i kept anon on, since i have so many people who feel uncomfortable sending asks off anon and didn't want to take away their safe space.

months pass. i go on hiatus for all of July. i find out someone stole my old nsfw art and reposted their edited versions of it to rule34, a site that i never wanted my work to be on. this person waited until the exact starting day of my hiatus to do this.

i come back to more anon hate in my inbox.

suddenly, out of nowhere, my account is terminated again.

i make a new blog. more anon hate. another termination.

lather, rinse, repeat.

i stopped doing DM only stuff. i figured, if i just link my other platforms and only post safe things on Tumblr, there's nothing in the rules against that. everyone has links to their social media.

i still get terminated. and again, i keep getting terminated after i post my pinned post in the whump tags. which -- speculation again -- leads me and others to think that these antis are stalking the whump tags, waiting for me to show up so they can mass report me and get me terminated.

i have NO idea what they would report, aside from claiming i'm trying to "dodge being blocked". which, i'm not. in fact, i say every single time i come back that i WANT people to block me if they need to.

but regardless, it keeps happening.

i'm losing a place i considered home.

i'm being forced out of a community on here i love so dearly.

and you want to know something funny? for some strange reason, i'm unable to block my anons. yup. an 'error' message comes up. and i'm apparently unable to report them too -- like reporting the one who called me a 'tumblr tranny' and said i would 'always be a woman' for hate speech. oops, sorry. error message.

by now, i've been called evil. told to listen to my intrusive thoughts. told that i should be on a watch list. told that it's disgusting that someone's mutuals still interact with me. told that i have no place in the whump community.

i know that's not true.

i'm so sick and tired of being treated like this. i'm tired of being dehumanized. and i'm disgusted with this behavior.

at this point, i'm just screaming as many times as i can. i'll keep losing blogs, because i know my attackers will read this and just keep on reporting me. what do they have to lose? nothing. they don't have enough of a conscience to care. and why should they? clearly, i'm a monster. i'm a piece of shit. i don't deserve basic respect, and i apparently don't deserve to keep my 'platform'. to stay in my community and to keep my livelihood.

my discord is emmettnet. send me a DM if you don't want to lose me, because there is no point in following me repeatedly just for every blog to be terminated.

if you want to reblog this to spread the word and show your support, i would be eternally grateful. but i understand if you choose not to; i don't want anyone to be subjected to what i'm going through.

thank you for reading.

[whxre-bxby]

Hate-Fucking with Mansk

THANK YOU FOR 1K Followers you guys deserve the world!

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

I will be making one with Lyle thanks to the great plot idea from @onlyreadz

Masterlist

Summary: Mansk has been attracted to you since you were human. As a newly recruited recombinant, he was ready to focus on the mission but your presence distracts him. A hatred for you builds up in him along with frustration and one evening, it all comes out and he can't help himself but deal with you.

WARNINGS: SMUT, man-handling, degrading, mean Mansk, filthy language, violence, fighting, angst, non-con (a little), hurt/comfort,

Side rant: this shit took me ages, enjoy (made with love)

Word Count: 9760

Today was the day the recombinant plan was being put into action. This was a major breakthrough for the RDA and their best hope of finding Jake Sully. 

Since the recom’s had the memories of soldiers and were now much bigger than humans, they needed to be woken up in groups so that the medical staff could tend to them all. All of them were therefore woken separately to ensure everyone's safety and prevent chaos. 

Mansk was in the first group along with Lopez, Warren, and Walker. Everything went well there and once they had been medically checked they were allowed to leave and dress themselves in their uniforms. 

They were told to wait in the cafeteria until everyone was awake. Mansk had a hard time adapting to his new body but he kept it to himself. His friend managed to distract him from it too. 

The second group was slightly more chaotic. But what did they expect when they had Lyle and Miles in the same room? Quaritch apparently delivered a solid punch to Lyle’s face which was well deserved because that is not the first thing one wants to wake up to. Especially not after one’s memories have the Na’vi categorised under the clear enemy. Nothing huge happened and soon they joined the others in the cafeteria. 

The group you were in was the last group but you were woken at the same time as the second one, just in a different room. 

Let’s just say that chaos was very much present there too. You woke up along with Ja, Prager, and Brown and Ja did the same thing Lyle did to Brown. Brown was known for being fast to act on his instincts so Ja wasn’t just punched, he was put in a chokehold. 

While this whole commotion was happening your eyes were opening and the noise startled you, making you sit up. There was a human next to you trying to keep you laying down but it didn’t really work. You scanned the room, watching 2 Na’vi males roll around on the floor while a third tried pulling them apart and obviously, you freaked out. Before they knew you were awake you screamed, jumping off the side of the bed. The fighting stopped for a second as they looked at you. Prager hurried over to you, trying to calm you down and introduce himself but you weren’t having it. 

The pause in the fight was used to Brown’s advantage as he pulled Ja to his feet and they slammed up against a screen attached to the ceiling. It broke off, swinging to you and the edge of it hit your jaw. 

Prager stepped closer than you wanted and the heart-beat detecting monitor next to you was launched at him. Prager ducked the heavy equipment and it flew right past Brown’s head who had let go of Ja in shock. Ja had rolled him over now, yelling at his previous friend while Prager was shouting at you to stop damaging the equipment. 

He called your name which confused you and soon you remembered that you were supposed to wake up like this. 

Y/N’s POV: 

“Oh fuck- Prager I’m sorry.”  I said, clasping my face in my hands and gathering myself. 

He tried comforting me while pulling Ja off of Brown and eventually, everyone had calmed down. 

The medics tried patching up my bruised jaw and bleeding nose but it hurt more so I left to get dressed. We were given new uniforms and then given permission to leave and meet the others. 

When we arrived, Quaritch was already giving everyone a pep-talk. Ja flung the door open stepping inside. Brown put his hand on his shoulder in an apologetic manner for the punches but Ja pushed his hand away, still mad. 

The room went silent as we walked in. Brown followed Ja inside and both of them had bruises and small cuts. I walked in after Brown, holding a bloody tissue to my nose and Prager was behind me to watch out for us. 

No one else was injured. Just Lyle had suffered a punch. Fike apparently too. Seeing us all walk in was like watching soldiers return from war and Quaritch sighed. Maybe this team would kill itself before he could order us to step outside. 

Lyle broke the silence by laughing, getting up and examining Brown before laughing more. I wasn’t in the mood for his jokes so I sat down next on the bench, ears tipped back. I noticed through the tattoos and some facial features that I was sitting next to Z-Dog who was already grinning at me. I scoffed at her amused reaction and she pressed me against her before biting her lip. 

“What the fuck happened?” she asked, making me show her my bleeding nose while she and Walker suppressed laughter. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I say, shrugging it off. It was embarrassing. 

“Lyle got punched by the Colonel.” she whispered and I looked at her wide-eyed before wheezing. 

“No way.” I say, looking at Lyle who had now sat down too. She nodded and I gave in. 

“Brown had Ja face-down on the ground.” I whisper back, smiling. “And I thought Prager was going to kill me.” 

She held a fist in front of her mouth as we both grinned. “They threw a TV at me.” I add to her amusement and she laughs. 

“Assholes.” I whisper jokingly. Everyone settles down and Quaritch begins explaining our mission. 

Third Person POV:

Your group walked into the room and everyone had examined you all, noting the injuries and the tension. Mansk recognised his former colleagues, smiling to himself when he saw how they messed each other up. Then his eyes moved on to you and his smile was swiped clean off. 

He stared and his heart stopped beating for a moment. Of course, Mansk remembered you. You were his main and secret problem as a human. He didn’t know you had signed up for the Phoenix project. 

His eyes stayed fixated on you as you sat down and he scanned all your features. As you talked to Z-Dog, Lopez nudged him in the side with a chuckle. 

“Not even a minute in and you’re back on ‘er.” he whispered and Mansk’s eyes shot to him while he flattened his ears back. 

“Shut up.” Mansk shrugged him off, looking down at his feet. Lopez knew that he used to like you before.

Mansk had a thing for you when you were humans but he never told you and you never knew. He didn’t plan on telling you now either. The plan was to do what he did before: suppress his feelings and ignore you as best he could. He wasn’t able to ignore you before but now this was going to be a new version of Mansk. A better one, he told himself. This time, he would avoid you. 

Mansk needed to set his priorities straight. He was on a mission here which involved some personal conflict for he knew Jake too and wanted revenge. He hated the Na’vi and was ready to give this mission his all. No distractions. That wouldn’t happen this time. He also hated that his attraction to you stayed even in your Avatar form. 

Y/N’s POV:

We had landed on Pandora now. 

The next day we were getting our gear ready for the mission and I was given a gun I’d never seen before. I wasn’t familiar with this type of weapon because this wasn’t the one we would ever use. They probably created new guns while we were gone. I held it, examining the firearm and trying to figure out how to load it and with what. 

Everyone else was busy with their stuff, except for Mansk who was leaning against a table next to his finished and clean guns. I remembered him. I think we might have even been quite good friends. One of the things I remember about him was that he knew his weapons. He could definitely help me with mine. 

I grab my stuff and walk over to him. He’s wearing his shades and only looks at me once I’m right next to him. 

“Hey,” I smile. “Can you help me with this? I don’t know how to load it.” I say, laying out my weapon which seemed to have three parts. I expected this to be a good ice-breaker and from then on we could have a nice conversation and catch up on things. But no.

He just tilted his head to the side to look at my gun, then at me and then he looked away. 

“You should know how.” he replied, his voice low and cold. Mansk then reached for his things and left, exiting the room without another word. 

I stood there watching him leave, surprised by his answer. We used to always talk. What was that about?

Either way, I found his reaction unnecessary. We’re meant to help each other and he was being an asshole. Mansk better have a good explanation for that otherwise I’ll be pissed. Maybe something happened, so I’ll let it slide once. 

Something similar happened that evening. We were once again in the cafeteria specifically made for the recombinants and I had just gotten my food. 

Zdinarsk was the closest person in here to me so I was obviously going to sit with her. We had large tables for multiple people to sit on at once and I spotted her next to Lyle. As I’m walking to her I notice Mansk is opposite Lyle and the only space free is opposite Z-Dog which is next to him. 

Maybe he will apologise now and tell me what got him in such a bad mood. 

Without thinking much of it, I put my tray down on the table and Zdinarsk smiles at me before continuing to listen to the conversation between Lyle and Prager who was on the other side of Mansk. 

I sit down and notice Mansk glance at me from the corner of my eye. He freezes, looking away and tightly clenches his fist around the knife he’s holding. I’m unwrapping my food and suddenly, he stands up in silence and swipes his tray from the table, leaving us all startled. 

Mansk walked away and I felt him glare at me as he turned away and walked to another table. 

Zdinarsk and I exchange glances. 

“What’s up with him?” Lyle asks chuckling and taking a bite out of his bread. They watched him walk off and I huffed, wiping my hand over my face. 

“No idea. He’s being a real dick.” I mumble, arranging the food on my plate. 

“Really? He was just joking around with us a minute ago.” Zdinarsk said and I looked up at her. Maybe he wasn’t just in a bad mood. Perhaps my gut feeling was right. Mansk might really dislike me for whatever reason. 

“I think he hates me.” I say, looking down and starting my meal. 

“What you do?” she asks, her eyes flicking between Mansk and me. He’s sat at the table behind me, his back facing mine. Lyle and Prager are quietly listening. Lyle loved listening to all the drama and the news. It was his guilty pleasure. In a way, he was a gossip girl.

As humans, I could be ranting about my ex to Z-Dog and he would be standing with us, eating his protein bars and just listening with wide eyes. 

“Nothing. Literally nothing.” I say and she stays silent in thought for a while before we all shrug it off and start talking about something else. 

Today we had started the mission and we were sent out into the forest of Pandora. Roughly in the area, the last battle took place. It was all very familiar and even though there was beautiful scenery all around us, it haunted me. I died on these grounds a few years back…

We were walking in line, following Quaritch and Lyle who were leading the way. 

“Alright team, we’re runnin’ out of time so we need to split up te’ cover more ground.” Quaritch said, turning around and resting one hand on his vest while the other held his gun. Lyle nodded, looking at us before Quaritch quickly counted down the line, pointing two of his fingers at his soldiers to divide us up into pairs. At least he wasn’t calling out our names, then it would feel like we’re back in school. 

Mansk stood frozen as I watched Quaritch quickly point the two of us together. He looked around and everyone was already walking off in pairs while the Colonel turned around, leaving with Lyle.

Great…

I had my own mission for the next hour: to make this the worst most unpleasant hour Mansk has experienced. He was getting some payback for how he treated me before. I don’t let things like that just slide. 

He was tense and his ears pinned back flat against his head as he huffed, looking at me. I gave him an innocent smile which I knew would piss him off. It did and he turned away, walking in the direction we were supposed to go in. 

If he doesn’t start a fight I won’t bother him. But I’m sure he’ll have something to say before our time ends. 

I followed him in silence, looking around and holding my weapon steady. 

After about 15 minutes of hearing nothing but the sounds of the forest, the first comment came from him. 

“Walk faster.” he said, not even bothering to turn around. I stop and my ears perk forwards as I process his words. Who does he think he is?

“I’m right behind you.” I snap back, rolling my eyes. “Dipshit.” I mumble. 

His ears react to the insult and he turns around. “What?” 

“Dipshit.” I repeat in a mocking way, making his brows furrow in irritation behind his stupid shades. I walk past him, refusing to waste another second of my time dealing with him. 

“Quit it, you’ll ruin the mission.” he says, starting to walk behind me now with his ears strained again. 

“Oh really?” I say, waving my arms. “How?”

I turn to face him and as I do I slightly stumble over a root in the path. Mansk raises an eyebrow at me. 

“Actin’ like that.” he replies, motioning to my leg. Now my ears are flattened back and my tail flicks in annoyance as I glare at him. 

“Like your behaviour is so much better. Take your stupid shades off and then we’ll see who’s talking.” I call out, turning around again and walking away. 

That got under his skin. “Take it back.” he growls, following me again. 

“Like, apologise? No way. If any one of us needs to apologise it’s you.” I sneer in response. 

I hear him scoff in annoyance too. My attitude was frustrating him but I didn’t care because he was such a pain in my ass. 

“Yeah? For what?” he asks, watching me walk in front of him. 

“For being such an ass to me for no reason. The fuck did I do?” I ask, stopping and turning to face him. I really wanted to know. 

He scowled at me before just ignoring what I said and walking further. I let out a frustrated groan. 

“Fucking answer.” I call after him, fighting the urge to call him a ‘hormonal bitch’. Damn was he lucky I was restraining myself. 

“Shut up and walk.” he mutters with an ice-cold tone. 

“You’re being such a moron. We used to be friends.” I say, looking down while continuing to walk straight ahead. My body bumps into his and then I realise that he stopped in his tracks, facing me. 

He was towering over me, a stern expression dressing his face. 

“We weren’t friends. You were a pain in my ass. Always clueless. Never knowin’ what to do and never doin’ it right.” he snarled at me and his harsh words startled me, making me take a step back. I didn’t expect that. 

“How you got chosen for this mission is a fuckin’ mystery te’ me, airhead.” He added, walking up on me and staring me down before walking off again. 

I wanted to shout an insult back at him but deep down his words hurt me. I stood still for a few moments, repeating what he just said to me and it made my heart ache. My memories told me we used to be great friends. Why were his so different?

Mansk almost disappears behind the trees so I start walking again,re-adjusting some of the gear I had on. After about five minutes I catch up to him again but we walk in silence. When we turn a corner I notice Mansk stopped walking again. 

“For fuck’s sake what is it now?” I complain, wanting to push past him until I hear a loud snort and huff. I freeze myself as Mansk and I slowly look up, meeting eyes with a huge animal. 

I immediately recognise it. It’s an elephant-sized cow creature. The one that crushed Lyle. It’s almost roaring at us and Mansk stretches his arm out in front of me, pushing me back. 

The purple feather-like parts on its head move around and I realise it is displaying a territorial warning. The one Jake, Grace and Norm dealt with in the forest. Grace taught me all about it. 

Mansk curses under his breath before grabbing my vest and tugging me back. 

“Run.” he shouts but I push him off of me. 

He doesn’t understand and gets frustrated with me, wondering why I wasn’t going with him. I turn back to the creature and throw my gun down on the ground next to me. It wouldn’t help in any scenario here. Mansk didn’t know that and I heard bullets soar through the air. They pushed off of the animal's thick skin, not harming it. The action just made it angrier.

“Don’t you dare shoot at it.” I snarl at him while the animal backs up. “You’ll make it worse.” 

He’s watching me with wide eyes, standing a few feet behind me. 

“Put the gun down, Mansk!” I shout, watching as he hesitates. My attention returns to the animal and it has finished backing up now. I steady myself on the ground, placing one foot in front of the other and watching it. It takes off, running towards us at full speed and I take a step forward, snarling at it and baring my fangs. 

Mansk’s heart drops in fear as it nears us.

It comes to a halt barely in front of me, quickly backing up and huffing. I watch it for a while, not moving from my position. It watches me, waiting for me to retreat but I don’t, so it turns and leaves. The tall grass rustles as the animal turns away and I straighten my posture, watching it until it’s fully gone. 

I turn to look at Mansk who looks completely shocked. His expression makes me scoff. 

“Clueless airhead, huh?” I say, giving him a shit-eating grin before picking up my gun and resuming our walk. “Look at you hiding behind me like a bitch.”

His perked ears tip back again as I resume the argument.

He watches me with wide eyes before quickly following. I knew he was confused but he wouldn’t ask so I might as well enlighten him with the things I do know. 

“That was a Hammerhead Titanothere. They’re not usually aggressive. It was just a territorial warning display.” I say and I know very well he is listening. 

“Shooting it is useless. They have bulletproof skin. You just need to stand your ground when it does that.” I continue to explain, not looking behind me. 

Now I turn around, just to mock him. “You see, I’m not good at loading these stupid guns and yet my chances of survival here are still bigger than yours.” I smile at him and he shoots me a glare. 

It amazed Mansk how well you handled that situation. Of course, he wouldn’t ever say that. But you had climbed a rank in his eyes. That didn’t change how much he despised you though. He despised your attitude even though it was his fault you were giving it to him. Mansk hated how easily you would get him distracted and how you never seemed to understand his grudge against you. 

We returned to the meeting area and no one found anything. The mission was called off for the day and we returned to Bridgehead. I didn’t speak to Mansk on the way back at all. Why should I? He wasn’t just rude anymore he was unnecessarily mean to me. 

Later that evening, I was back in the gym. The gym was its own separate building with very bright lights. Everyone had left because everyone gets up early. I couldn’t sleep though because I felt so frustrated and angered, I needed to let it out somewhere. The unlucky boxing bag was getting it all. I was able to properly let my emotions out because no one else was in here with me. The recom’s had their own gym because we needed bigger equipment. And everyone had gone to bed. 

I wanted to scream my lungs out as I delivered punch after punch to the bag but I knew someone would hear me, thinking it was an emergency. 

I continued beating the shit out of the boxing sack when I heard the main door click open. My arms reached for the bag to still it and I held onto it to stay on my feet while turning around to see who had entered the gym. I had hair sticking to my face and my chest was heaving while beads of sweat decorated my blue skin. 

My eyes met the eyes of Mansk who was standing in front of the door with his hands in his joggers. My ears immediately pin back which secretly amuses him. 

I watch him for a few seconds, wondering what he’s doing here but he doesn’t move or do anything. He isn’t even wearing his usual training clothes. 

“The fuck you want?” I ask, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand which was in a boxing glove. 

Mansk scoffed and looked at the ground for a second in thought before scanning the empty gym. He was wearing his damned shades again. They made him look meaner.

“Nothin’.” he said, facing forwards again. I didn’t like whatever he was up to. My eyes linger on him for a little while longer in an attempt to read his mind before I turn away, taking my gloves off. 

“Done already?” he asked from somewhere behind me, walking closer. I roll my eyes and sigh, trying to pull myself together so that I won’t snap at him. 

“I’ve been here for over 2 hours. Yes, I’m done.” I snarl, refusing to look at him.��

“Don’t let me intimidate you.” he said with a breathy laugh and I knew he was smirking to himself right now. Mansk was surprisingly talkative with me. Definitely not in a pleasant way but he was a very distanced and quiet person in general. Maybe he just needed me to know how much he disliked me. 

I scoff. “Yeah, right. Like you could ever.” 

Mansk exhales a huff through his nose as tension builds in the air. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so rude I could take you more seriously.” I say, throwing the gloves to the ground and heading to the showers. 

“I’m rude?” he asks, now standing on the large rubber mat I was training on. It was a big square designed for boxing and sparring. 

“Nooo.” I reply, sarcastically. Mansk hated sarcasm. 

“Fuck- why do you have to be like this.” He mumbled, brushing his nose with his finger. I stop walking and turn around. 

“What did you say?” I ask, awaiting an answer as I stand with my weight shifted on one leg and my arms crossed in front of my chest. 

Mansk didn’t answer which made me huff in annoyance. Why did he even come here?

I walked over to him, getting back in the ring and leaning on the side ropes so I could look at him properly. His ears perked forwards, paying me attention while his eyes followed my movements. 

“If you came here just to get on my nerves you can leave.” I say, not allowing myself to look away. My tail swished behind me, showing my pent-up frustration with him. His one did the same and his ears pinned back.

“Or you can tell me why the fuck you’re like this.” I add, giving him the options I can think of until another idea enters my mind. 

“Or…” I say, not necessarily meaning this seriously. “ you can fight me.” I press my body further into the elastic railing fencing in the boxing ring while a mischievous grin paints my face. He was probably going to walk away. 

Mansk seemed surprised by my words, not moving for almost a minute as he thought. I was about to turn away and walk to the showers again when I heard his voice. 

“Fine.” Was all he said as he walked towards me. I backed up and he entered the ring with me. 

“Don’t respond with just ‘fine’. I’m gracing you with the option to finally be close to me, so you can stop being an ass.”  I joke, turning away from him and I hear him fucking growl.

I freeze, turning around to him again. He looks really pissed. 

“Oh no, I’m so intimidated now.” I mock him, ridiculing his stern expression. 

“Shut the fuck up.” he snarls, making my ears perk forward at his aggressive reaction. 

I snort. “What do you want me to say? ‘Make me’?” 

He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders back. “Sure.” 

“In your dreams, jerk.” I snap at him, taking the opposite corner. 

This was a great opportunity in my eyes. He agreed to it and I would finally be able to punch the shit out of him. ‘Legally’. 

He was staring me down, waiting for any sudden movement I would make which would trigger him to pounce. 

“You gonna count down?” he asks eagerly, fighting himself to stay still. 

“When you grow a pair.” I spit my words and that’s all he can take. 

Mansk lunges forwards, running to me with quick steps. I dodge his first punch by moving to the side and then grab his left arm, twisting it. He groans and then one of his hands is gripping my wrist. I let go of him and his now free hand wraps around the back of my neck. He swiftly turns me around so that I’m no longer facing him and within the next second, my knee is kicked in and I fall down a level. He holds me up by my neck while both my knees hit the ground but before he can think of what to do next, my legs lock around his ankles and I manage to trip him. He falls back while I turn and straddle him, trying to keep him held down. 

“Asshole, you’re breaking all the rules.” I hiss at him, leaning down to his face to emphasize my words and he angrily pushes me off of him. I land on my back and when he’s about to jump on me I roll to the side. 

“There’s no fuckin’ rules when I’m fightin’ a bitch.” Mansk gnarled, pushing his upper body off the floor and not taking his eyes off his prey. I sit back on my knees and as he attempts to tackle me down I deliver a punch to the side of his face which brings him out of balance. 

“I’m sorry, which one of us was fucking-” I gasp for air “cowering behind the other in the forest today?” I say, recalling him standing behind me when we were almost attacked by the large animal. 

He stays still for a few seconds, holding his jaw and breathing heavily. I didn’t manage to hit him properly because he slightly moved out of the way, meaning it couldn’t hurt too much. However, it was still a punch and it felt good. 

He growled again, turning to me and as he lunged forward, his hand caught my ankle. Immediately he pulled me to him. My free leg kicked his shoulder back but his posture was stable and he pinned them to the ground. His hand then grasped my queue, forcing me to turn around while I leaned on my forearms, refusing to lay down flat on the ground. I was facing the ground while struggling to hold myself up. Mansk was towering above me, one hand still firmly holding my queue while the other pulled my left arm out from beneath me, pinning it down against the ground. 

“You mean the one time you wore almost nothin’?” he snarled, moving up my body and pressing his knee down on my leg to eliminate the possibility of me getting up. I sensed sarcasm when he brought up the ‘one time’, which was rare for Mansk to use.

His words confused me and I stopped struggling for a second to think about them. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I say, clearly distressed and resuming my fight of attempting to push him off. 

“Fuckin’ look at you. You wear nothin’ but this excuse of a bra and these tight shorts.” Mansk growled. Tight shorts? Someone’s been paying attention.

I did always wear the same type of clothes. Similar to Walker actually except that her pants were longer than mine. I didn’t think much of it because Na’vi wear loincloths and chest pieces that barely cover anything. So why should we?

Our bodies were different now, adapted to the climate of Pandora, not the air-conditioned base we stayed in. We were used to the warmth. 

I push myself up and off the ground with my right arm. 

“It’s weather appropriate.” I snap back, glancing over my shoulder as I pin my ears flat against my head. 

Mansk tightens his grip on my queue, tugging me up before almost slamming me down into the ground so that I was now pressed flat against it. 

“Well it’s not workplace appropriate.” he opposes, pushing his words through clenched teeth. 

I whine in pain while Mansk lets go of my wrist, placing his hand down on my shoulder. He was leaning on his arms which ensured that I would stay on the ground. 

“Oh I’m sorry does it bother you?” I murmur, trying to at least roll over. 

“Fuckin’ right it does.” he says and his hand is digging into the skin of my shoulder. I whimper in pain, arching my back to try and have him loosen his grip but he doesn’t. 

Luckily, my leg finds his tail, roughly slamming it down and trapping it between my foot and the ground. 

Mansk hisses through his clenched jaw, the pain making him retreated his abusing hands. I push myself forwards, lifting the leg that caused him the pain and kicking him in the side so that he would not be restraining my right leg anymore. I succeed, finally free from his grip again. 

“Why don’t you go and cry about it to Lyle.” I say, regaining my breath while resting on my hands and knees. Lyle was our team leader and often dealt with our complaints in the past. 

He looks up at me and I can tell he is raging. I’ve never seen Mansk this worked up before. No one has. 

His tail aggressively flicks behind him as he shakes his hand. “Lyle happens to like it.” he answers, spitting the words like venom. I raise an eyebrow in amusement. 

His words surprise me and I grin. “Maybe I should go to his room then.” I say, not thinking much of it. In my mind, I thought insults would get Mansk angrier but somehow the last sentence I spoke did. 

“...and tell him about what you’re do-” 

I don’t get to finish my sentence because Mansk is back on me. I try to back up but he’s too fast. I’m leaning back on my forearms once again, facing him. My leg attempts to kick him in the face and push him away but he dodges it and it slides over his shoulder. His left hand tightens around my calf, holding it in place on his shoulder. 

My eyes widen when I realise my mistake. I was stuck now.

He noticed my wide eyes and even through his anger, this little victory made him grin at me devilishly. 

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere.” he growled, flashing me his sharp fangs as his grin widened. I glared at him and then Mansk leaned further forward, making my leg bend rather uncomfortably. His free arms reached forward and he held down my other leg by digging his fingertips into the flesh of my thigh and holding it down. 

I hiss through clenched teeth at the pain from his tight grip. 

“Thought you were goin’ to put up a bigger fight than this.” he mocked me and I pushed the leg he was holding on his shoulder against him but to Mansk it just felt like a nudge. 

“Shut up, I was working out for over 2 hours you dick-” I start complaining, not giving up my struggle. He hushes me, placing his hand over my mouth to shut me up. I freeze, staring at him wide-eyed. What the fuck was he doing?

“See? I like you better when you’re not runnin’ your mouth like-” he starts to say, thinking I calmed down. I didn’t need to hear the stupid things he had to say and without hesitation I bit into his hand, letting my fangs scrape his skin and causing a scratch. 

Immediately his hand retreats and he holds it against his side, examining the scratch with perked ears. Then Mansk looks back at me and he’s angry again. 

“Try that again and you’ll lose a finger.” I snarl and his ears tip back. Somehow, I loved our new ears. They made it so easy to read one another. 

“You won, congratu-fucking-lations, let me go.” 

“Nah, don’t think so.” he growled and that devilish smirk was back on his face. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

I snort. “Me? The reason I’m a bitch to you is because you decided to be an ass since day one. And that for no reason at all.” 

“No reason?” he scoffs, digging his fingers deeper into my flesh to contain himself. 

“Yeah. I didn’t do shit and you’re acting like such a moron that-” 

“You fuckin’ distract me Y/N. Can’t do anythin’ when you’re around.” he snarls, making it sound like he’s spitting venom again. “I fuckin’ hate you, your big mouth and you’re poor excuse of fuckin’ clothes.”

My mouth drops open and I try to suppress laughter, but I won’t be able to hold it for long. 

Mansk despised so many things about you but not necessarily you. He hated how attracted he was to you and he blamed you for it. For, in his eyes, showing off your body. He was angered by his internal battle of trying to understand why he even felt attracted to an Avatar of a Na’vi. Mansk resents that he can’t get you out of his head and that once he sees you he can’t take his eyes off you. 

He was ready to fully devote himself to this mission and get it done once and for all but you are such a big distraction to him. You’re Mansk’s weakness and he used to swear to himself never to have one which makes his hatred for you worse. 

I’m biting my lip and looking at Mansk whose chest is heaving. I can see how he’s restraining himself from probably killing me but right now it just seems funny to me. 

“Goddamn, you could have bought me a drink first.” I laugh at him, releasing my lip which has my teeth marks imprinted in it. 

Soldiers like Mansk amused me and almost seemed stupid to a certain extent. Such a big intimidating man in the military losing a battle to his feelings because he never shares anything with anyone and of course one day it’s all got to come out. And when it does, it’s nasty like this. 

People like Quaritch would completely neglect mental health, focusing just on physical appearance and a strong survival mentality. Mansk was similar. The idea of talking to someone about his feelings made him think he was growing weak and that was the thing he dreaded the most. 

“If you’re so desperate for me you could have told me and-” 

Mansk can’t stand that. His right-hand releases my thigh and quickly wraps itself around my throat making me stop talking. 

“You keep talkin’ like that and I won’t be able to hold back.” he warns me. I examine the veins bulging out on his forearm, pumping blood through his body. His neck was strained and I could see his artery. He was really tensed up. 

“What makes you think I’d listen to you, jackass?” I snap back, refusing to let him intimidate me. 

Mansk can’t help himself anymore. You’re right there, laying beneath him.

He leans down, holding my head in place as I watch in confusion. His lips crash down against mine and after I realise what’s happening, my body seems to respond to him and I kiss him back. It’s not a nice kiss in any way. It’s harsh and our teeth clash at one point. I push his chest away from me, breaking the heated kiss and gasp for air. He seemed even more restless now.

Maybe deep down I was attracted to this menace of a man. 

“I’ll make ya listen.” he replies, once again flashing his fangs through a smug look. 

“I’d rather die.” I say, pulling my left leg which he let go back to my body. As I retreated it from beneath him and to me, my calf caressed his groin and Mansk tensed up. It took me a while to figure out what just happened and an extra few seconds to come to the conclusion that he was hard to the point that his erection strained his pants. 

My mouth drops open and I gulp before my gaze shoots up to him. He’s already looking at me and his ears have drooped but he didn’t let his harsh grip falter. This is definitely not what I expected. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I wheeze but he presses my throat tighter. 

The pressure he’s causing makes me uncomfortable and I slap him across the face, almost making his shades fly. Shock engulfs him for a good few seconds and I’m crawling away. 

I turn away from him, steadying myself on all fours as I prepare to stand but he’s quicker. In an instant, his hands are back on me and I’m unable to move forwards anymore. Mansk's palms close around my waist as he tugs me back to him. 

My ass comes in contact with his lower abdomen as he pulls me towards him and I gasp when I feel him press against me. 

“If you don’t move away in the next three seconds I will kill-” 

Before I can finish my sentence a stinging slap is delivered to the spot under my ass and above my thigh. 

I whimper, clenching my fists together. 

“You’re gonna keep you’re dirty lil’ mouth closed and take what I give you. Understood?” he said and I heard him unbuckle his belt. My pupils blew wider as his strong musk flooded my senses. 

“I’ll rip your tongue out you-” 

Another slap which hurt more than the previous one made me shut up. I clenched my eyes closed, suddenly feeling weak. My body seemed to be responding to his presence against my will, making me almost surrender. 

My arms and legs trembled and my tail was no longer hastily flicking around. It stilled and I pulled it under me and between my legs. 

His palm was once again holding my queue, grasping it so tightly it made me feel lightheaded. 

“Mansk, you asshole-” I murmur while one of my arms gives out beneath me. “You’re so dead.” 

My threats fly by him, not bothering the soldier at all. His long-denied emotions have collapsed in on him and that internal war of frustration triggered his new primal senses to come to light. Mine were becoming visible too and it seemed that there was no way to stop this.

My eyes seem to be burdened by a blurriness until Mansk’s touch brings me out of my haze. His free hand is feeling along the waistline of my sports shorts and with a few harsh tugs, he pulls them down my waist and legs along with my panties. My tail is pulled out of the cloth and I bare my fangs, hissing at him as the gym air comes in contact with my refused heat. 

Mansk groans, letting go of my queue and grabbing at the flesh of my hips and ass. I raise my tail, making it flick him in the face because I wasn’t giving up just yet. He growls, holding it down against me as he examines my heat-struck body. 

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, exhaling shakily as he holds my thigh and makes me spread my legs wider. 

He hated you without a doubt, but fuck you looked so good to him. Everything about your body made him harder and suddenly you seemed so inviting to him, he couldn’t resist. 

My ears were pinned back as I was fighting my desire for him and I tried thinking of a way to fight him but my mind was blank at this point. 

I felt him let go of my hip and his right hand was placed on my shoulder, holding me steady. 

Without any warning whatsoever, Mansk brought his hand up to my shamefully dripping pussy, gliding two of his fingers between my folds. I whimper, hiding my face in my other shoulder while grimacing. I didn’t understand my body. 

He rubbed me and naturally, my legs spread wider and my hips followed his movements. 

Mansk wanted to say something but he didn’t know what. Your quarrelling feud was still very much ongoing, this was just an exceptional hiccup in the entire fight. One that couldn’t be prevented by either of you. 

Suddenly, Mansk pushed both his fingers into me and I jolted forwards at the unexpected intrusion. He kept me still by pulling me back with the hand on my right shoulder and now he leaned over my bent body, starting to finger me. Neither of us were thinking anymore. 

I whimpered, stretching my arms out in front of me so that I wouldn’t fall forwards. He wasn’t being gentle either. My body was rocking forwards every time his fingers bottomed out and his pace was rough. 

I hiss, baring my fangs again when I start feeling a form of pleasure. 

Mansk can’t resist you anymore. He has to take you whether you’re ready or not. If you continue to fight him, he’ll just be rougher. 

He pressed himself against my bare skin again, before pulling back and lining himself up with my entrance. I couldn’t even follow what he was doing, my mind was so clouded with lust. 

With one hard thrust, Mansk forced himself as deep into me as possible. I cried out in surprise and my body tensed at the foreign feeling. 

He groans, finally feeling pleasure wash over him. The long-needed feeling of euphoria was at last flooding his own senses and he needed his release more than anything. My walls were hugging him tightly because my Avatar had never done this before but it made him almost speechless.

“You look like a bitch in heat.” he snarled and I tipped my ears back. 

“You-”  

He pulled back, drawing his rock-hard dick out before snapping his hips forward once again and starting to fuck me at a brutal pace, making me unable to answer. 

I cried out again, not sure if it was in pain or pleasure this time. He wrapped my queue around his hand, making my head tilt back and my back arch against him. 

Mansk was losing himself inside you and he bent over you, pressing his chest against your back to ease his longing to be close to you. 

His arm was resting next to me as he held me in place, not letting his thrusts falter. 

His skin was slapping against mine, no doubt leaving mine reddened and flushed. He dug his fingers into my shoulder to contain and ground himself in reality and I snarled at him, baring through the pain. 

Something about the fact that you hated him but still let him do this really turned Mansk on. He wouldn’t be able to explain it but he definitely preferred this with you over soft sex. You didn’t deserve to be treated nicely, not when you dressed like that and talked to him in that way. 

I wanted to throw an insult at him but I couldn’t talk and neither could he. Grunts and pants filled the room as we still fought each other in a way. I leaned away from him, making the angle more difficult and in return, he held me so tightly his fingernails were close to cutting my skin. 

He would harshly tug me back and closer to him every time I somehow got loose until at one point, he leaned all his weight on me, no longer holding himself up with an arm. Both his arms wrapped around and beneath my body. One of them came up to my throat from between my arms while the other locked my body in place by tightly hugging my waist. 

Mansk’s head was buried in the crook of my neck as his panting fanned against my cheek. His eyes were closed while I was a whimpering mess, occasionally biting back the pathetic noises to hiss or snarl at him which I knew pissed him off more. Every time I did, he would fuck into me from behind even more relentlessly than before. 

I could tell he was close because his thrusts were no longer as sharp. He became more sloppy, mindlessly chasing his high as he pounded into my abused pussy. 

Mansk groaned, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes clenched closed. 

“Fuck- take it you dirty slut.” he growled. 

The hand around my throat tightened, making sure to keep me in place as he thrust into me the last few times. His body tensed and he forced himself as deep into me as possible. Mansk’s teeth bit down on the skin of my left shoulder and his fangs slightly tore the skin while his body shook. I felt him release and shoot his hot cum deep inside me as he held me closer and tighter than ever before, to ensure he’d stuff me full with as much of his load as possible. 

I moaned when I felt him fill me. It was something I had never felt before but fuck was it good. 

After about a minute, his tight grip loosened and he let his arms fall to the side. I finally inhaled properly while he steadied his own heavy breathing. 

Everything was so intense, neither of us could move for the next few minutes. He just stayed pressed on top of me, luckily supporting his weight this time while I let my head fall forwards. 

Even though I didn’t cum I was tired. Too tired to push him off or even walk to the showers. 

After a few minutes, Mansk had calmed down and slowly he lifted himself off of me. I felt him surprisingly gently pull out and I whimpered at the movement inside me. Everything felt bruised. 

My arms were trembling beneath me and I let myself fall to the side, finally relaxing. However, the heat between my legs remained. Even after all that cruel handling, my body felt needy. 

Mansk stayed kneeling behind me, looking down at me in pity. He felt a little guilty for what he had done. 

“Y’ alright?” he asked, placing his hand on my thigh as I lay on my side. My relaxed ears flatten back and he notices it all.

“No, you moron.” I snap back at him. Isn’t it obvious that I’m not at my best?

And just like that, all guilt and pity left Mansk’s body. You were clearly well enough to continue bickering. He also noticed how your tail restlessly thudded against the ground. Your scent was still strong, maybe even stronger than before which reminded Mansk that you didn’t cum.

“Aw, you want more don’t you?” he teased me, rolling me over on my back and moving my hands away from my face. He saw how flushed I was and that answered his question. 

“It wasn’t even good, loser.” I snarl, knowing it will get under his skin. But oddly it just made him chuckle. 

“Who were you moanin’ for then?” he asked with a smug grin on his face. An idea popped into my head and now I grinned at him. 

“Lyle could do it better.” I say and Mansk stills. I look at him trying to figure out whether he was thinking or whether he was genuinely hurt but that was difficult because he still had his damned shades on. 

“Mansk-” I say but within an instant, he’s on top of me. 

“I’ll make ya cum so hard you won’t be able to think about no one but me.” he hissed, and when I tried opening my mouth to respond he cut me off again and pressed our lips together. 

I huffed in annoyance, refusing to kiss him to see how much angrier he can get. 

Mansk wrapped his hand around my throat again, squeezing from the sides to cut off my air and blood flow for a few seconds. I gave in, kissing him back with as much lust and passion as I could. 

Without breaking the make out, Mansk trailed his hand down my body and spread my legs apart. I didn’t fight it this time. It seemed like a challenge to him. 

I lift my head and look between our bodies, my eyes going wide as I realise that Mansk is still hard. He pushes my head down by my neck, leaning over and sucking hickeys into the skin. I bite down on my lip, suppressing my noises which sound like muffled whimpers to him. 

He would make sure that even doing that won’t keep you quiet when he’s inside you again. 

Mansk pressed himself against my bare heat which was dripping with his cum. He ground his hips against me and I let my head drop back in pleasure and sighed. 

I felt his lips form into a grin against the skin of my collarbone. I still had my bra on because he was in too much of a hurry to take it off before. Mansk was completely naked on the other hand.

His teeth tugged at the strap of my sports bra before he leaned back and pulled it over my head. Without hesitation, he leaned back down, roughly groping my breasts and leaving a dark hickey above one. 

The grinding stopped when he pressed the tip of his leaking dick against my entrance again. Slowly he applied pressure, straightening himself and picking up my right leg to wrap it around his waist. I let him move me around because for whatever reason, I was convinced he wouldn’t make me cum. Not when I was already so sore. 

“Where’d your feral side go?” he teased, smirking down at me. I dramatically exhale to show my irritation. 

“I’m not fucking feral.” I hiss and he scoffs. 

“We’ll see.”

“I’m sorry do you want me to punch you?” I ask, looking up at him. 

“You won’t be able to in a sec.” he says and with that, he pushes himself back inside me. He enters me easier this time because we’re both coated in slick from the last round. 

My pupils grow wider at the feeling and I strain my ears back, not wanting him to see the hint of pleasure I just felt. 

Mansk still isn’t gentle because he has no reason to ‘make love’ to you. However, it’s not as brutal as before. 

He starts to thrust into me more precisely this time and my body tenses when it starts feeling good. Fuck. 

His tail found mine, making them wrap around each other while he focused on finding my weak spots. Mansk’s left hand held my thigh up on his waist as he pushed deeper each time until he started bottoming out on each thrust. 

My breathing grows heavy and I feel a small pressure build in me but it’s enough for me to resist. 

Mansk is eyeing me, watching my expressions and he notices how I’m fighting myself. He has a solution for that. 

While thrusting into me again, he lets go of my thigh which stays on him and his thumb circles my clit. 

I inhale sharply, pressing my lips together making him smirk. He slowly sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, letting his thumb brush over my clit every once in a while making me try to close my legs around him. 

I throw my head back and clench my eyes closed, realising that I’ll lose this silly bet and that if he doesn’t stop I will cum. 

Suddenly, he presses his thumb right against my clit and at the same time, his dick brushes up against my G-spot. He feels my walls clench around him briefly and I hiss, letting my mouth drop open. 

“There you are.” he growled, meaning my ‘feral side’. It seems that Mansk liked the animalistic noises we emitted. 

“Fuck-” I whimper, arching my back off the ground. He takes the hint, feeling a sense of pride in his chest as he continues doing exactly what he is. With each thrust, he applies a little more pressure on my clit and rubs under it and I’m gone. I’ll definitely lose. 

My hands grip his shoulder, needing to clutch something for support. Deep inside I’m angry at him and at myself for letting this happen and for having it feel so good. So to put up my rebellious message, I dig my fingernails into his back, clawing at the skin in a desperate attempt to contain my pleasure. 

Mansk growls, leaning forwards and once again resting his head in the crook of my neck. He licked over the area he bit into last time and then nibbled on the skin around it, tracing his fangs along it in a threatening manner. 

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, slowly threatening to spill. Mansk looks up at me and grins at the sight. 

“Such a needy little thing.” He coos and I know he’s making fun of me. 

“You started it-” I sniffle and almost sob in pleasure. “...you idiot.” I can’t think of any good insults or comebacks. 

I hiss when he bites down a little more than he should on my neck and I take it as a warning. 

“C’mon, stop fightin’ it and cum f’ere me.” he mumbles, placing a kiss on my neck. He doesn’t stop his actions and I know it’ll all be over in a few seconds. 

“No-” I whimper, and at this point, I’m begging myself not to come more than I’m telling him. I hate how good he’s making me feel. But it doesn’t matter because, with the next thrust, I’m seeing stars. 

“Mansk-” I almost scream, clenching my legs around his waist and throwing my head back. My fingers are still, digging into his back one final time as my own body shakes and my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

He rides out my orgasm, extending it for as long as possible. 

I’m mindlessly mumbling his name over and over again. 

Finally, I come down and my body goes limp beneath him. My chest is heaving and when I look up at him, Mansk has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. Instantly I frown which makes him chuckle. 

“You still mad?” he asks and I stare at him in disbelief. 

“Until you grow the balls to apologise, yeah.” I reply, wiping my hand over my forehead. My language and attitude being present after all that amazes him. 

He smiles with a sigh before speaking. “I’m sorry.” he says but I shake my head. 

My hand lifts up to his face and I push his shades up onto his head so that I can see him properly. “I don’t think you mean it.” 

He drops his head in defeat before facing me again. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot to you.” he says and I smile, satisfied. 

“Are you into me?” I ask but he doesn’t answer. “Because if yes, than this is not the way you should approach things.” I laugh and he smiles to himself, feeling unsure. 

“Yeah..” he mumbles, wondering whether he should apologise again. He wasn’t good at these conversations. 

I sigh, knowing I’ll have to deal with this emotional wreck from now on. To ease his thoughts I pull him down by his dog tag and this time I initiate the kiss. Mansk melts into it, holding my cheek and when we pull away he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. 

“You have to help me up, I don’t think I can make it to my room.” I say and he grins, nodding and getting up. Mansk gently pulls me to my feet and accompanies me in the shower. It was nice, finally seeing this side of him. 

He let me touch him and purred when I washed his back of some dried blood. 

Since everyone was asleep we managed to sneak into his room and we fell asleep together. Who knows how much longer we’ll be around to experience this.

Tag list: @ikranwings @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[youunravelme]

jealousy jealousy

author’s note: hi...remember that time i wrote 2 fics and then disappeared? yeah me neither. i promise i’m still here, just trying to figure out life and force myself to write rather than just consume. this is already way too personal for strangers on the internet...anyway, here’s wonderwall (aka the jack x figure skater fic that no one asked for, this takes place in the figure skater universe that i have not written yet).

(oh and if you’re wondering, andrew is your figure skating partner)

jack hughes x figure skater!reader

warnings: nhl violence, cursing

him

it’s not that he hated andrew, it was just he wished he was the only one leaving bruises on your thighs. or the only one who got to kiss your cheek. jack watched from the stands as you two glided across the ice. he’d come to appreciate figure skating in the months you’d been dating ever since you’d forced him to try some of the basics of your sport and he’d fallen on his ass more times than he could count.

so it didn’t bother him, going to your performances, and watching you skate. he just hated how in love you looked when you gazed at andrew. or the way your legs would wrap around his head when just the night before--

he was getting ahead of himself.

at the end of the performance, when your smile was wider than the equator, an older woman to his left said, quite loudly if you asked him, to her friend. “i’m so glad they kept skating together after the break up, it would’ve been a shame to lose such chemistry.”

i’m sorry. 

what?

to say he was pissed when he saw you was an understatement. andrew’s arm around your waist just added fuel to the fire simmering in his chest. it made him want to throw away the bouquet of tulips he got you.

“what’d ya think?” you asked him with the biggest smile on your face, the silver medal dangling from your neck.

“you did great,” he stated, handing the flowers off to you. “can i talk to you?” he glanced at andrew and then the hand that still had not removed itself from your waist. “alone?”

you furrowed your brows but nodded anyway. you squeezed andrew’s arm and mumbled a thank you with a bright smile before following jack into a secluded part of the rink.

“what’s up, baby?”

“were you ever planning on telling me you dated andrew? or were you gonna just keep me in the dark about that?” your face dropped. guess he got his answer. “right. i’ll see you later.” jack moved around you, but your hand grabbed his arm gently.

“jack please, listen i didn’t think it was a big deal--”

“you didn’t think it was important for me to know that the person you spend the most time with, aside from me, is your ex?”

“you didn’t disclose all your exes either!”

“i’m not shoving my crotch in my ex’s face every day, nor am i making goo goo eyes at them for the entire world to see!” you didn’t say anything to that, so he took it as his cue to leave. “you did great tonight,” he said. “but i got to get home. i have a game tomorrow to prepare for.”

he walked away from you, and didn’t bother turning back, not even when andrew passed him and presumably went to your comfort. he didn’t get to see you reject andrew’s hug in favor of pressing the tulips closer to your chest.

when he got home, jack immediately called quinn. “do you have time to talk?”

“would you care if i said no?”

jack paused. “no. look this is an emergency.”

“shoot.”

“so you know the figure skater i’ve been dating?”

quinn hummed. “nice girl.”

“and you know how she has a male partner that she performs with, right?” quinn hummed again. “well apparently they used to date for like two years.”

“she told you that?”

“no, i found out through some random lady’s comment at her performance today. and then i got on the internet and well, i found out they dated for two years.”

“oh.”

“yeah, ‘oh’ is right. i mean why would she keep something like this from me? i’ve been honest, i’ve been working on myself because i thought i was crazy for thinking they had feelings for each other but they used to and hey, maybe they still do--”

“jack, you’re getting ahead of yourself. she’s with you, she likes you.”

“but what if he likes her? they spend all their time together, how am i gonna compete with that?”

quinn sighed into the receiver. “look, i’m by no means saying she should’ve kept this from you, because that’s a shitty thing to do. but as far as i can see? there’s no competition. you’ve already won. you got the girl, okay? he didn’t.”

jack wanted to agree, that at the end of the day, they chose each other. but he still couldn’t get over the thought of andrew’s hands and where they’ve been.

you

okay so you fucked up.

big time.

to be honest, you completely forgot about your past with andrew, seeing as most of it was overshadowed by over a decade of close friendship. but seeing the betrayal on jack’s face made everything ten times worse.

which is why you hesitated on going to his game that night only because you couldn’t decide if not showing up would make things worse or better. you came with andrew, which in hindsight was not the best decision you could’ve ever made, but when the new jersey devils asked you and your partner do to the ceremonial puck drop, your agent made it clear saying no would be a bad idea.

so you texted jack to give him a heads up that the both of you would be there and dropping the puck on orders of your agent but that you would still be watching the game afterward if he wanted you there.

he didn’t reply.

a knock on your door alerted you to andrew’s presence. so you scooped up your purse and put your platform high tops on before grabbing your keys and heading out.

“still nothing?” andrew asked. you shook your head. “do you think he’s being a little dramatic? i mean, he never shared all his exploits with his exes--”

“but he didn’t date a teammate, andrew.” you cut him off. “look, i get you’re trying to be supportive, but i’m in the wrong here.” andrew followed you down the stairs and out to his car.

“would it help if i told him i’m gay?”

“you mean would lying help? absolutely not.” andrew unlocked his car and you both hopped in. “do you need directions?”

andrew laughed. “i think i know where prudential is.”

you held up your hands and looked out the window as you tried to think of ways to somehow make the situation better.

or rather, keep from making it worse.

by the time you arrived at the arena, you were a basket case of nerves, suddenly second guessing every decision you made up to this point. “should i have just worn a t-shirt like you instead of his jersey? i’m wondering if i’m overstepping here.”

“look, there are few things that men love more than seeing their significant others in their clothes.”

“but does that rule apply to when you’re arguing?”

“it could!” andrew stopped you in your tracks, right before entering the arena, with his hands on your shoulders. “look, it’ll be okay. after tonight, if you only wanna hang out when we have practice until it all settles down, that’s fine by me.”

you looked at andrew and then back at the arena.

“okay.”

him

“hughesy, is there a reason your girlfriend asked me who is doing the puck drop?” nico asked him once jack walked into the locker room.

“she texted me earlier, i just haven’t replied. she’s doing it along with andrew,” he grumbled.

“trouble in paradise?”

“it’s a long story. and i don’t really want to talk about it,” he said as he pulled his gear on.

“you sure? might help to clear your head. if you’d like, you can do the puck drop if you want to see her--”

“--nope, i’m fine.” he sat down to put his skates on and stayed silent.

it wasn’t until they got onto the ice that jack started to calm down a little. the rink was his home, a place he could let go. he wasn’t worried about the problems in your relationship at the moment, not when he was playing one of the devils’ biggest rivals: the philadelphia flyers.

the team took a break from the warm ups to have the carpets rolled out for you and andrew. he couldn’t even look at you as you walked out, the announcer sharing all the accomplishments you share with andrew.

he stood to the side, ignoring the jabs from his teammates at the sight of you smiling and laughing. the thought alone had him consider forgiving you, until he glanced up right as andrew nudged you and the jealousy came back with a fiery vengeance. 

it only got worse when he saw nico give you a bear hug and in return you gave him an award winning smile.

honestly.

were you not even torn up about the situation you were in?

you

god, even looking at him hurt.

he didn’t even do you the courtesy of making eye contact, you would know, your eyes had only left his figure to smile at cameras or greet nico or the flyers’ alternate captain. maybe, if jack decided he actually wanted to be with you still, you could ask him who the hell that guy was.

when you and andrew turned around, he held the puck out for you. “you want it?” he asked.

you shook your head. “i’d rather have one that jack gave me, than remember the night he ignored me the entire time.”

him

was that his jersey you were wearing?

honestly he spent so much time trying not to look at you that the 86 on your sleeve didn’t pop out at him until you turned around and his teammates started catcalling at the sight of his last name on your back.

“that your girl, hughes? or just a fan?” mercer teased.

“shut up,” jack grumbled, but the heat in his cheeks was telling enough. he watched as you made your way back to the stands before he had to focus on getting his mind ready for the game, and much of that included forgetting what happened the day prior.

which he would love nothing more than to do.

you

“is this your first game wearing his jersey?” andrew asked as you took your seats.

you nodded, nervously wringing your hands as you watched him sit on the bench cheering on his teammates. there was no reason for you to be that nervous, but you couldn’t help but feel antsy anyway.

“hey,” andrew started. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, maybe i’m still upset at myself? or scared he’ll break things off with me?”

your partner laughed. “that boy is too in love with you to break up after one incident. besides, you didn’t cheat you just--”

“forgot to tell him a key piece of information.”

“look, it’s not like you kept it from him maliciously. and given time, he’ll understand that.”

“i guess you’re--” you cut yourself off when jack got on the ice, your nerves shooting up tenfold. you watched him like a hawk, even if he didn’t have the puck.

hell, you weren’t even sure if andrew was talking to you because of how dialed in you were.

you didn’t move, you weren’t even sure you were breathing, until he scored, not even two minutes into being on the ice. you jumped from your seat and screamed, probably looking like a maniac or a fangirl.

you would consider yourself both at that point.

you watched as his teammates came up to hug him and slap his helmet. he spared a glance in your direction, giving you enough time to smile and give him a little wave. you fully expected him to ignore you like he’d done all night, but when his hand lifted up and waved back, you were on cloud nine.

the game started back up again and so did your excitement. 

until jack was slammed against the boards across the rink from you. if it weren’t for andrew’s hand holding your forearm in your seat, you would’ve jumped and yelled at the refs to do something.

“that’s not fair!” you shouted.

“it’s hockey,” andrew said like that was explanation enough.

“and? he just body checked him! jack is like 115 pounds soaking wet and that man--”

“--farabee--”

“--has like fifty pounds on him!”

“he actually doesn’t.” you whipped your head at andrew, ready to yell at him. “look, jack is fine. that’s why they wear pads. it’d be concerning if he was wearing a leotard like you and getting bodychecked, okay? this is the nature of the game.”

you crossed your arms. “i think it’s bullshit.”

him

he really hated farabee. and maybe hate was a strong word, but it felt like every two seconds he was getting checked into the boards which would’ve been fine if you weren’t there to see it happen.

“c’mon hughes, this is getting embarrassing.” was farabee’s latest quip of the night. and while he was no stranger to trash talk, something about the glint in farabee’s eyes was getting under jack’s skin. “that your girl right there?” he pointed to you while your brows were furrowed and head tilted. it would’ve been cute had farabee’s sudden interest in you not sent a cold chill down jack’s spine.

“shut up,” he grumbled before shoving his way past farabee in pursuit of the puck. but joel kept after him.

“she’s a looker, don’t ya think? how’d you manage to hit that?” jack’s fists clenched. “be honest, did you have to bribe her to go out with you? how much it cost? she looks like she’d be a good time--”

jack shoved him up against the boards. “shut the fuck up,” he all but growled before skating off.

keep your cool, jack. he’s just an asshole, you’ve dealt with assholes before.

he had the puck and was about to shoot before he was checked again, this time the wind being knocked from his lungs as joel stood over him. “go sit on the bench, hughes, while i go show your puck bunny a good time.”

that was it.

jack stood as quickly as he could and shucked his gloves off. 

you

horror was the only word you could use to describe the feeling that came over you as jack threw the first punch. you’d seen many of his games, often going back and watching clips on youtube, and never once have you seen him fight.

until today.

you were on your feet, clutching andrew’s arm, your fingernails digging into his arm. “oh my god,” you breathed.

you weren’t sure your jaw could drop any more than it already was. jack’s helmet came off first, but the other guy, “farabee” according to andrew, hit the ground first. jack was yanked down a second later.

if you were strong enough to break the glass, you would’ve just to get to him. because the punches didn’t stop, there was red on the ice, and you weren’t sure who was bleeding.

you hoped it was the other guy.

the refs split them up pretty quickly after farabee hit the ground. jack got up with blood trickling from his nose and lip, but looked otherwise unharmed. you didn’t care enough to look at the other guy.

“and keep her name out your mouth,” jack yelled across the ice as a ref ushered him to the penalty box.

your brow furrowed. surely he wouldn’t be dumb enough to...

you glanced at andrew who looked just as flabbergasted. “was that over...?” you trailed off.

“you or his mom,” andrew shrugged. a beat passed. “told you that toothpick loves you.”

him

his head felt ready to explode. though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the blood pumping from his nose or the rage he felt just a few seconds ago. but as the metaphorical dust settled, he searched the crowd for you only to find your eyes already on him.

you okay? you mouthed.

he nodded and drew his attention back to the game. he couldn’t look at you too long before getting angry again, this time, not at you but at the reminder of what farabee had said about you.

you might scold him for it later, in fact, if he was a betting man, he would’ve put money on the fact that you would, but it didn’t matter to him. normal trash talk was fine but involving you? poking an already open wound?

but he didn’t have time to worry about it, he’d figure it out after the game when he could touch your skin and assure himself that you wouldn’t leave him for someone else.

the second he was released back into the game, he came back with a vengeance. the fight wasn’t enough, he was going to score as many points as he could to beat their asses into the ground.

he was going to do it.

you

there was no way jack was human. or at least, not a superhero of some kind. there had to be some higher power that possessed your boyfriend’s body because he was a very good hockey player?

but that night? he was next level.

by the end of the game, he’d scored 4 points alone, and assisted nico in the one other point made by someone who wasn’t him. when the final buzzer blew, the score was 5-2, with new jersey taking the win.

“your boyfriend is insane!” andrew yelled over the cheers.

you smiled. “i know.”

the both of you walked towards the locker rooms, flashing your lanyard at security to let you through. 

“do you want me to wait for you?” andrew asked.

you shook your head. “i’ll get jack to take me home.”

“and if he doesn’t?”

“he will. especially when he finds out you left me.” andrew hugged you goodbye and departed towards the parking lot while you waited for jack to walk by. nico was first, smiling and hugging you quickly before heading back to the locker rooms. jack’s other teammates file out and wave, some stopping to give you a fist bump. 

unsurprisingly because fate was funny like that, jack was one of the last to head your direction. part of you seized up with fear, wondering if he was still mad about andrew, but the smile he gave you relaxed your shoulders.

jack dropped his helmet and stick in favor of holding you close. he held you tighter than normal, an arm around your waist, a hand in your hair, his face in your neck. 

“you okay?” you asked, trying to pull back to get a look at his face, but he only squeezed you tighter.

“i’m fine. just glad you’re here,” he mumbled into your neck. a beat passed before he pulled away and just stared at you. “did you drive here?”

you hesitated on telling him the truth, not wanting to ruin the moment but ultimately deciding lying would ruin things further. “i rode with andrew. he went home.” jack’s gaze darkened just a hair. “but i was hoping i could ride home with you.”

he nodded before leaning in to kiss you, pouting when you pulled out of reach. “baby--”

“your lip is split, hughes.”

“so?”

“i don’t wanna hurt you.”

“you’re hurting me now by not kissing me.” you sighed and gave in, your lips meeting his gently. 

“there, you happy?”

“nope,” he said, leaning back in.

“easy there, cowboy,” you laughed into his lips and placed a hand on his chest. “you need to shower.” you wrinkled your nose as the smell hit you finally.

“you mean you don’t love me as i am?” he teased.

you froze. you had yet to say those words but he didn’t seem to notice before someone was calling him away. “go,” you pushed him lightly towards the locker room. “i’ll be here.”

he kissed you one last time before running down the hall with his things.

you patiently waited for the thirty or so minutes it took for jack to get ready and speak with his teammates. he came out freshly showered and smiling despite the split lip.

“you ready?” he asked.

“i was waiting on you,” you replied.

jack rolled his eyes but tossed his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the side of your head anyway. the both of you stayed silent until you got in the car.

“do you wanna tell me what the fight was about?”

jack’s hand paused over the keys in the ignition before he turned the car on and shifted gears into reverse. “it’s nothing.”

you rolled your eyes. “you mean to tell me you got a split lip over nothing? i thought you valued honesty.”

jack sighed and put the car into drive. “he was making comments about you and i couldn’t stand to listen to them anymore.”

“what did he say?”

jack’s jaw clenched, as did his hands on the steering wheel. “it doesn’t matter. it’s over with.”

“if it bothered you, it matters, jack.”

“i’m not comfortable repeating it,” he said. “it’s over now, let’s just go home.”

you paused. “your home or mine?”

he reached over the center console and held your hand. “mine, if that’s alright.”

you nodded, words failing you for a moment. the air still felt tense, though you weren’t sure if it was from the argument you had or the game itself.

but it was the lack of communication that got you here in the first place, so you spoke up. “are you still mad at me? because i don’t blame you if you are, i just thought i’d ask.”

jack was quiet for a moment, letting your words permeate the air. “not really, but i’m still confused as to why you didn’t tell me you’d dated andrew before.”

some deep-seated part of you wanted to shrug it off, but you knew you might view it as casual, he might take it as being flippant. “it was so long ago,” you started. “and when i look at him, i don’t see my ex, i just see my friend who’s grown up with me.”

he nodded, hand still clutching yours. “what do you see when you look at me?”

you swallowed down the fear building in your chest. you hadn’t said those three words yet, but maybe now was the time? andrew’s words kept repeating in your head. told you that toothpick is in love with you.

you breathed.

“i see the love of my life.”

[matthewloverr]

sweet nothing

chris x sloane stirling (fem reader)

summary: for the past two years you’ve been in a heavily toxic relationship with chris, one second you’re the only girl he sees and next you’re fifth on the roster.

warnings: kissing, angst, swearing

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sloanes pov

i sit on my couch bouncing my leg up and down and tapping my fingers on my knees, my eyes were fixated at the tv trying to focus on anything else other than my blank phone.

that was the problem, no text, no call just nothing. i had texted chris an hour ago to see if he still wanted to come over and watch a movie and nothing.

i was so close to getting up off the couch and driving to his house when i got a text from him.

chris♥️: busy

is this kid fucking kidding me right now, i literally made no plans so that we could do this but now hes busy ??

sloane: don’t bother coming over then.

chris♥️: k

anger pumped through my veins, fuck this im going out.

with that i checked the time, 7 pm, perfect just enough time to get myself ready for the bar.

i texted all my friends letting them know that our plans were back on and we are getting loaded.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

i finished getting ready and checked my phone to see if my friends were here, that’s when i heard music pumping slowly getting louder as a car pulled into my driveway.

i checked the mirror to see my outfit, i had on a black tank top which was mesh at the bottom and a tiny black skirt.

apparently one of my friends boyfriends was gonna be the driver for the night, before i walked out i checked my phone one last time for a sign of chris, nothing.

i got into the car and immediately switched my mood so they didn’t notice anything wrong.

“i thought you were with chris tonight?” rena spoke as she turned around, it was her boyfriend that was driving.

“nah fuck him” i replied as i buckled my seat belt with a big grin on my face.

all my friends started cheering and whooping, they hated chris mainly because all of them have seen him with a different girl on different occasions. they knew he would treat me right and then turn around and screw me over.

“i just need to get so criminally wasted i don’t even want to remember getting in this car” my friend allie said

“well lets go” i replied, honestly i was excited to go out with my girls. if there was anyone who could take my mind off him it was them.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

we arrived at the bar and walked up the steps, you could hear and feel the music getting louder as we got closer to the entrance.

we all immediately went to get drinks, there was a tall brunette boy standing there talking to someone girl. fuck my life it was chris.

i quickly looked away to avoid eye contact, but my friends soon caught on. they all just kept buying me drink after drink and before i knew it i was on the dance floor.

i was with allie as we moved our hips together, hands in the air and moving to the music. i was having fun until i felt someone’s eyes staring into me.

i whipped my head around a bit and noticed a pair of blue eyes watching me from the bar. i quickly resumed what i was doing.

we danced more and more and then i felt a pair of hands come around my waist, assuming it was some random i pushed him away. i turned to see the man and was met with none other than chris.

i pushed his chest as i rolled my eyes and he stumbled back a bit, i resumed what i was doing with allie before i felt a hand grab my wrist and drag me off the dance floor.

i knew it was chris, i just kept my eyes forward trying to focus on not throwing up or falling over.

he pulled me into a small hallway that had the bathrooms, i pressed my body against the wall. honestly chris never scared me i couldn’t care less but right now there was fire in his eyes that made me freeze in the moment.

“so you think that you can come here and act like a slut?” he shot at me his brows furrowed with anger

i scoffed in his face “you’re unbelievable, you blew me off just so you could come here, you’re the slut”

he pulled his lips between his teeth and looked out at the crowd of people before he let out a small chuckle.

“how about you just go fuck another girl, you’re too pathetic that you’ll just end up back in bed with me” i spat at him, the words coming out faster than i could even comprehend.

he just stared at me, i knew he was angry but i didn’t care anymore. he wanted to have a good time so will i.

“you have no fucking idea what you’re even talking about, you’re just a fuck to me. and you’ll give in. every. single. time.” he replied.

his words took me back, he was right. no matter what chris did i always allowed him to come back.

tears started brimming in my eyes before i sharply inhaled pushing myself off the wall.

“go fuck yourself” i said in a low tone i wasn’t sure he even heard me with the loud music on.

he just stared at me, he would look into my eyes then back at my lips. i didn’t want to give in, i knew i would regret it. god i looked like such an idiot but i had to.

eventually i just grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in, our lips smashing together and it was messy.

he scooped me up with his hands under my thighs and my legs wrapped around him, he pressed me up against the wall. our kiss was like we were starving for eachother, our tongues fighting for dominance, our hands wrapped in eachothers hair trying to pull us together impossibly closer.

that’s when we heard a small gasp from next to us, it was that girl, the same girl who chris was talking to at the bar.

“are you kidding me right now, you just invited to go back to your place and i leave for two seconds to grab my shit and you’re kissing another girl??” the blonde girl screamed at chris, occasionally looking at me.

i slowly walked up to her before i whispered in her ear “he tested positive with hiv”

with that her face twisted with disgust and she walked away. i turned back to look at chris who had confusion written on his face, he slowly walked over to me wrapping his hands around my hips.

“now that blondies gone how about i take you back instead” he said with a malicious smirk on his face.

i laughed right then and there, “in your dreams bitch” and with that i walked back to my friends.

he didn’t come up to me the rest of the night which was good because i would’ve gone with him. rena’s boyfriend drove me home and i couldn’t be happier than to just lay in my bed.

i was taking my makeup off and my phone started ringing, obviously it was chris on the other line and i reluctantly picked it up.

“what” i said in a very annoyed tone.

“i love you” chris spoke, he wasn’t even slurring as if he was drunk. he almost had me fooled.

“k bye” and with that i hung up the phone. i knew chris well enough now that i knew he was just horny because i pushed away that girl, i didn’t care he can suffer.

i went to bed and my heart felt a little heavy, maybe he did mean it and that’s why he always comes back to me, it couldn’t be cause he wouldn’t be fucking around with other girls.

it was probably just nothing.

a/n: ok so what are our thoughts, i thought id give something to the chris girlies but i am obsessed with toxic chris i fear. anyways hope you enjoyed love you !

[fragileruns]

welcome backk !!

request for tasm!peter - peter would always blow off reader on dates because he's busy fighting crime and stuff like that, and reader has always been patient with him and understanding until she finally had enough. peter went to her apartment without thinking ( so he was still wearing the suit ) because he wanted to make up with reader right away and then he reveals his identity to her and they make up ( can end with smut )

i am terrible at making requests, and sorry if it would be hard to understand T T

anywaysss happy that you're back :D take caree

sorry this request took so long, lovely! i hope you enjoy! sorry for not including any smut, i’m just not the best at writing it yet.

summary: peter’s been showing up late, or not at all, for all your dates recently and you’re upset, until you find out why.

content warnings: fluff mainly, very slight angst, peter being a stressed baby, gn!reader (i think, let me know if not!), not proofread

The first time it happened was a study date. You had been struggling to grasp the new topic that had been introduced in your mathematics class and Peter, being the braniac he was, had been quick to offer to tutor you. He was supposed to come over that Friday night and have a movie night, after you finished studying. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he was just running late or had an emergency, but then the hours creeped on and he still never showed. He apologized the next day, claiming May needed help with something and he couldn’t get away (apparently, this ‘something’ had kept him from messaging you that he wouldn’t come, as well, but you decided not to bring that up).

The next time was a bit more annoying. It was date night. You and Peter always set aside at least one day every week to be ‘date night.’ It usually just consisted of take out food and really cheesy movies, but it was nice to be able to spend time together, especially when classes filled up most of your schedules. You had a stressful week, with exams coming up and final projects being due, and you had been looking forward to spending a night with your boyfriend. He always knew how to put you at ease. You waited up for him for hours, but he never showed, again. At least this time he did text you, even though it was nearing midnight and it only read ‘I’m so sorry, this huge emergency came up. I’ll make it up to you with an icecream date tomorrow???’

The cycle continued on. He kept missing minor dates, sometimes showing up hours late or texting you that something came up, and other times just going radio silent until the next day. And you had forgiven him everytime, but he could tell you were getting annoyed and feeling rejected. Rightfully so. He knew he had to make it up to you, somehow, and his best plan of action was to scrape together whatever money he could and find the fanciest restaurant nearby (which wasn’t as fancy as he’d have liked, but it had foods he had never heard of, so he figured it was good enough).

“Okay, listen, I know I’ve been really, really bad at showing up to our dates on time, as in, I haven’t been,” he had started one night, coming into your apartment after one of his classes. You were sitting on the couch, surfing through movies to find something to watch, and he walked over to plop down next to you. “And I know you’ve been stressed with exams, and I just… I want to make it up to you and tell you I’m proud of you for getting through them. So, I made us a reservation at that fancy place - the italian one, down the road? Anyway, it’s for Saturday at 7, and if you don’t totally hate me, I thought it’d be nice.”

You glanced over him, furrowed eyebrows and with only a hint of hope. It was hard to keep believing he’d show up whenever he had missed so many. “I don’t hate you. I just… are you sure you’re gonna show up? I’m really tired of embarrassing myself by just waiting around,” you admitted with a doubtful sigh, and Peter’s heart nearly broke. He felt even worse for missing everything, and he wished more than anything that he could just tell you why.

“Hey, I swear, okay? I — I’m really sorry for missing any of our dates, and I’m sorry you felt embarrassed. But, the only way I don’t show up for this one is if I’m dying in a hospital somewhere, alright?” He rushed to reassure you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek and keep your attention on him. Seeing his puppy dog eyes made you give in quicker than you would have liked to, and you just nodded with a small ‘okay’ to agree. He grinned, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss, before turning back to the TV, decidedly picking some action movie that he thought you’d like.

Saturday came around, and you hated to say it, but you were excited. You had dressed nicely, taking over an hour to get ready just to make sure you looked perfect. You even arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, waiting outside for Peter to show. He ended up texting you that he’d be running a few minutes late and asked that you went ahead to claim your seats, told you he’d still be there shortly. You lost some hope, but still trusted he’d keep his word and went in to sit down.

By 7:30, most of that trust had died and you apologized to the waiter for wasting so much of her time, but you were sure your date would show. She gave you a sympathetic smile that made you want to curl up and die as you ate your complimentary bread.

By 7:45, you had already send Peter a string of texts, letting him know you were about to leave and would talk to him later. You still hoped he’d respond though, but no luck.

Finally, by 8:00, you had given up all hope and just left, apologizing again to the waiters as you hurried out, eager to get away from the stares. You stopped by a small pizza place on your way back, starving as you hadn’t ate since before noon that day, scarfing down the slice before going to your house. Part of you worried that Peter was, in fact, dying in a hospital somewhere and that was why he didn’t show, though you knew that wasn’t why. Knew he just got caught up with something else, like always.

Peter stared down at his phone, mask held in his other hand as he frowned at your string of texts, all consisting of things like ‘this is humiliating, are you showing up??’ and ‘you promised you’d show.’ He felt that deep pit of guilt, and he didn’t think before swinging to your home, only wanting to make things up to you. Only wanting to make things better before you finally just gave up and broke things off with him. He wasn’t at all focused on the fact that he was wearing his tight suit, mask in his mouth now, identity fully revealed if anyone squinted enough.

His heart was beating a mile a minute, but not because of the adrenaline of the fight or the feeling of whipping through the air. Because he could only imagine how upset and angry you must feel right now, and he felt awful for being the cause of it.

He got to your house in less than half the time it would usually take, moving as quickly as possible, tapping on your bedroom window as soon as he spotted you in bed. You had rolled over at the noise, eyes squinting to see what was going on at first before you spotted him. He noticed the split second of anger that came across your features, but it was quickly replaced with wide eyes as you rushed to let him in. He glanced behind him to make sure nobody was about to throw something at him.

“Peter, you’re —” you had started once you pulled the window up, but you didn’t have time to continue before he started rushing to apologize.

“I’m sosososo sorry, I know I promised and I don’t have a good excuse, and I know you must be so upset right now,” he started, his own eyes wide as he climbed in, hands immediately finding your waist to stand you in front of him, ignoring your own shocked look and attempt at getting words out. “Tell me how to make it up to you, I’ll do anything, I swear. Seriously, Do you want a puppy? A cat? A — a lion? Anything?” He was practically begging.

“Spiderman,” You had responded. His eyebrows furrowed, hands dropping from your waist as he took in what he thought was your request.

“You want — you want Spiderman? Like, a cutout? That’s… okay, I didn’t know you were that big of a fan.”

“No, Peter, you’re… you’re Spiderman,” you stated and he was more confused than ever, but then your hands reached out to grab the mask that had dropped to the floor, and everything clicked together. He had never changed.

“Oh, that — um, I was at a costume party,” he attempted to lie, and it was clear on your face that you weren’t falling for his bluff. “Okay, yes. I’m Spiderman. That’s… sort of why I’ve been so late to everything.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you not trust me?”

“No. No! That’s not it at all. I just — it’s dangerous. For you to know anything. For you to even be with me, but I’m too selfish to end things. I just didn’t want someone coming after you just because you knew my identity,” he admitted with a frown, upset that you were now in harms way just because of his own stupidity.

“You’ve been doing this alone? You haven’t had any help?”

“What?” He questioned, looking at you as if you had asked the most absurd question possible. You were worried about his help when he had just missed his probably fifth date in a row? And put you in danger? “Um, yeah, I’ve been doing it alone. Look, I’m really sorry about tonight, and I promise —”

“Peter. It’s fine, I’m not mad. Anymore. I just can’t believe you hid this from me. I could’ve helped you, you know?” You cut him off, reaching out to rub your hand over a bruise forming near his eye. He hadn’t really noticed it from the fight, used to being punched around and overly focused on trying to get home to you.

His eyes were wide and filled with both worry and guilt. Guilt over missing tonight. Worry because he had no idea what was going to happen now, because it was about to become ten times harder to keep you safe. If anyone found out you knew his identity, they’d come for you, and Peter really didn’t know how to deal with that.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I was scared something would happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice small, and your heart broke.

“You won’t, okay? Nothing’s gonna happen to me, I’m here. But I wish you would’ve told me, I hate thinking about you out there, getting hurt. Not having anyone to patch you up. Is that why you’d wear hoodies so often?”

“Yeah,” he looked slightly embarrassed, and he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, keeping a hold of your hand as you went to sit next to him. “I usually heal up really fast, though, I promise. So it’s not that bad. And I’m really good at patching myself up, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry about you. I worried about you before I knew you were Spiderman, why would you think I wouldn’t worry about this?” You sighed, scooting closer to him as he wrapped his arms aorund you, moving to hide his face in the crook of your neck. You could tell how messed up he felt about it all with how openly he was craving your affection, but you didn’t say anything and instead just put your hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

“Sweetheart, ‘m gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that,” he said, but you didn’t stop and he didn’t stop you.

“That’s fine. Just go to sleep, bug boy.”

He grumbled something out about the nickname, something about being a man and not a boy, but it was quiet, and he almost immediately fell asleep soon after.

[preciadosbass]

5/8/24

woke up at 9:30. when i wake up naturally early i always say good morning to boris so i did that and then decided that i’m not exhausted to the point i should go back to sleep. i just doomscrolled the entire morning and saved a few max green edits along the way. i looked through a few pin sharing urbex groups on facebook and saved a couple videos to my watch later on youtube. its a pain there’s not actually much around where i live, like, that’s why i cant go out on my own. as much as woods are beautiful and nice to be around/at there’s not any shops or town in walking distance.

the next time my family go on a road trip hopefully i’ll be able to explore a few places then. there was an abandoned housing estate about 40 minutes from where i live but apparently it’s being demolished soon, plus i’m not allowed to go there anymore. as for any of the other stuff close-ish, it’s not really anything you can explore. however, i did find an abandoned plane graveyard online and it turned out it was decently close by to me. when i went they didn’t even let me take photos but they did email saying someone could tour me and show me the planes if i arrange a date which is exciting. although i’ll most likely have to wait until october so the plants around it die down.

when it got to about 10/11am my dad came down so i said goodmorning to him and had breakfast as he made me it and i’d feel bad not to. luckily i’ve found breakfast option which has a lot less cals than that bagel so i feel a little, tiny bit more relaxed about having food in the mornings. at 1 i went outside with boris and cuddled him on the driveway. he seems a lot more energetic today. i was sitting on the sleepers across from the front door with my feet outstretched and he layed down leaning against my leg/shoes it was so cute i just had to record it. while i was outside i also fixed the lighting of a picture of jaime and changed my layout and things on all my socials.

i also followed lots of cool people in hopes of become their mutual or something. i stayed out there until 2:20. when i got back inside asked my mum about that list of things on depop that i want to buy and she sent offers on all of the uk items for me. with the rest, i just had to wait until people got back to me about shipping. since yesterday i added one more item to my wishlist, a frank iero tattoo poster from an old magazine, i sent an order regarding this aswell. my mum was getting frustrated and didn’t really understand why i wanted the stuff that i did. but she did see my point about buying the funko pops second hand from depop rather than the official website.

i think i had a nap and woke up at approximately 4/half five but i’m not too sure about times. i saw an informative video about taxidermy and how to tell if things are ethical or not and remembered i was texted a mutual and they kept asking for advice regarding stuff like that, so i sent it to them. at around 5 my hairdresser came round so i got dressed for once [i hate departing from my onesie don’t judge me 🤫] and had my ends touched up. having my hair cut is always kind of awkward for me because i have to stop myself from asking to get it cut short. my parents are fine with it, im just terrible with change. but i have been wanting it short for 4+ years now. its just scary that once it’s done, if i don’t like it, there’s pretty much nothing anyone can do. i’m fine with dye.

before she was about to leave i found out that she’s going to be looking after boris when me and my family go to butlins. she’s really nice and talked me through everything/asked me to text her if i have anything particular i want her to do but i’m scared about leaving him. i think i have a few weeks until we go. i feel guilty saying this, but i am excited, i think. i haven’t been away with my whole family before. that dosent take away the worry though. once my parents had payed and she’d driven off i went outside with boris again.

i was out there up until 7:20 when i went back into my room and put on coraline. i finally found the dvd after looking everytime i watch something for weeks. i’ve watched it so many times i know everything that happens so while i was listening to it i wrote this before i’d forget everything about my day. my phone was blowing up at the same time because some rando keeps submitting anonymous messages harassing me over making music my personality loll — anyways, i watched up until the scene where the other mother gives coraline the box with the buttons in it until i went on a walk with my mum.

we left at almost exactly 9 and went to that same field i’ve spoken about before where you can see london in the distance. the person who owns it must’ve just mowed everywhere so we were just walking on really thick piles of dead grass so it was 10x more tiring. it left like i was walking through snow. obviously it was even more tricky because we walked down and then up the really steep hills. we got home at 10ish and was out for at least 40 or 50 minutes.

when we got back my mum handed me an envelope. i immediately knew what it was; since i’ve been young [7] i’ve had this youth thingy send me and my sister arts and crafts stuff related to the stuff going on at the time. i took it into my room i continued listening to coraline while i made a collage out of the zoos map from yesterday. i opened the envelope once id glued in half of the stuff i wanted to and used this wooden flower from it. i finished it at 11, and i cant tell if i despise it with every fibre of my being or if it’s tolerable. ive never made a collage with so much untouched and plain space [photo at the end]

coraline conveniently finished when i’d completed the collage so i went out to the kitchen to see boris. my mum started arguing with me about how the questions don’t affect me at all and they only have a negative affect on her and my dad when i asked when i should come up. i’m gunna admit, this kinda hit really hard because nobody knows how much it truly affects me and i’m too far gone to even be able to speak about it/write about it. because if i do then it’ll make something bad happen. but i do appreciate that it’s really draining for them too. i just cant stop.

boris went into the living room so i sat out there while finishing the rest of that mcr 2011 concert and updated this at 12 while listening to fall out boy’s folie á duex. once i’d written what i needed to i rewatched a few videos i took at my pierce the veil concert back in april. i’m still not over seeing jaime. i went up to my parents at 12:50 because thats when my mum said they’re ready for me to ask questions about boris. it took about an hour because it was on and off and i kept on getting sidetracked. afterwards i went downstairs, had some breadsticks [and found this huge ass spider living above our food cupboard], did my teeth, and said goodnight to boris.

i cant recall how long i was speaking to him, but i finished at 2:50. i told him about my day and what’s going to be happening tomorrow so he knows i might not be able to be with him as much as id want to. [my prevision is coming round tomorrow]. i got into bed directly after id finished speaking with boris, and listened to three days grace + the used while wrapping up this entry. went to sleep at 3. i usually get to sleep the second my head touches my pillow but it took me a few minutes more today because all i could focus on was the sound of electricity and my radiator. it isn’t even that whirring sound you’d hear at your grandparents when you sleep over, it’s high pitched and inconsistent and weird. also my stick insects were being noisy.

* ughh i hate this page sm it’s probably my least fav one i’ll ever do here’s a picture of boris to make up for it

have a good day/night O_o

[queenofmistresses]

comforting chat after a big battle, maybe a reveal that he’s adrien and then lots of cuddling and kissing

A/n well the answer to that was yes apparently! I loved doing this! Please send more fluffy stuff guys! (Btw haven’t proof read so sorry!!)

I hate watching the battles from a distance, never quite sure who’s winning or what’s happening, I promised Chat I wouldn’t put myself in danger. I don’t see how I could help anyway, I don’t have superpowers.

Even though I have complete faith in Chat, and know that Hawkmoth has never come close to winning, I still worry. Hawkmoth is getting better, the battles are getting more brutal.

Chat’s struggling more and more every time, all I want is for this to be over.

This battle is even worse, because ladybug isn’t there. Ladybugs powers means that she can reverse any damage done during the battle, without her or her miraculous, the damage is permanent.

so far they seem to have kept away from the city, I’m watching the live newstream on the edge of my seat, waiting and hoping. Chat doesn’t look good.

After an hour of watching them struggle, Chat wins, using his cataclysm to destroy the miraculous. He doesn’t engage with the news reporters and once he sees the akuma’s victim is safe, he leaves.

He looked terrible.

It’s not long before I hear a knock at my window, I turn and see my kitty there, bleeding. I let him in and sit him down on my bed, grabbing the first aid kit.

When I walk back in the room I see tears streaming down his face. I put the kit down on the floor and pull Chat into me, holding him and trying to soothe him, telling him he’s safe now, he did it, Paris is safe again, it’s okay.

He only sobs harder and clings to me tighter. I would hold him like this forever if I could, knowing he’s safe. The problem though, is that his ring is beeping.

“Chat, sweetheart, your ring is beeping, I have some cheese to recharge Plagg and you can hide in my bathroom?” He shakes his head and leans in impossibly closer to me. “Chat, if you don’t then I’ll know your identity.” Once again he shakes his head, not moving.

“Please, I need to tell someone.” He weeps and grips into my shirt. “I can’t do this alone anymore.” I hold his face gently and lift his chin up to look at me, he looks so scared, and so so alone. No one should have to face this alone.

I ask if he’s sure that’s what he wants, he says he is, so I nod and bring him back into me, letting the timer run its course. I can’t see his face, I want to give him a chance to back out up until the very last moment, just in case.

It’s not long before the suit vanishes, leaving a seemingly ordinary boy in my arms. A black creature that can only really be Plagg, though we’ve never met face to face before.

He looks at me, then down at Chat, he seems as worried as me. “Kid? Are you sure about this?” He flies to him, close to his head. Chat nods and slowly lifts himself up to look at me, really face me for the first time.

Well, it turns out, not for the first time. “Adrien?!” I gasp. He nods again, looking pale and worried and expectant. I throw myself at him and hold him tight. “I didn’t have any guesses to who you are but I’m so glad it’s you.” I say quietly.

I feel him deflate in relief and hold me tighter. I see Plagg sigh and give me what I think is a smile, and fly down to give Adrien a hug against his back.

When Adrien has calmed down enough to be able to let go of me, I help him with his injuries, they’re not nearly as bad as they initially look, thank goodness.

I bring him and Plagg some food, not wanting either of them to be uncomfortable, and then Adrien asks if they could stay the night. Of course I don’t even hesitate before I say yes.

A part of me wants to spend the night asking the mountains of questions that have come to mind since he revealed himself, but I know that this isn’t the right thing for him.

So I give him some of my dads clothes that I stole when i was younger to make him more comfortable and then we lie down for the night.

I don’t know how long it took either of us to fall asleep, but we don’t say anything to each other, we just cling onto each other as much as we can until next thing we know it’s the late morning and we don’t know where the time went.

[nochuelinha]

Chapter 1: Instantaneous Analysis

I always dreamed of being part of the forensic police force, ever since I was a child, I knew I would work with it. I studied like hell, did everything I could and then some, but in the end, I became a detective. Not that I don't like my job, it's just that my dream was ripped away from me by much more advanced technology: androids.

I don't hate androids like some out there, including my mentor Hank Anderson; no, I find them fascinating, but I never had the financial means for one, and even now that I do, it doesn't fit into the part that interests me as a young adult.

I've always pushed myself harder than I should in my studies, as if I had to achieve everything quickly. Human life is short, and sometimes I feel like mine is even shorter. Even before joining the police force, at the peak of my 22 years, I became Detroit's youngest detective. We received a call, apparently a homicide involving androids. I hitched a ride with one of the officers heading there; I don't know how to drive, pathetic, but I'm not ashamed of it.

The house was old and smelled really bad, really bad. I felt bile rise in my throat and held back from vomiting; the body had been there for a few days already. Everything was turned upside down and a mess. I approached the corpse and began analyzing everything I could. He had been stabbed 28 times; whoever wanted him dead made sure of it. He had traces of red ice in his poorly kept beard, parasites were starting to do their work on his rotten flesh. I don't know why, but he exuded an aura that he was a real son of a bitch, must be because he's dead. On the wall behind him was written in blood: I AM ALIVE.

I looked at the ransacked kitchen and went to the bathroom, covered in the writing RA9; there was a small carved doll there, some kind of offering?

I heard Hank's voice and followed him, and to my surprise, he was accompanied by an android. It was the most beautiful thing I could lay eyes on in that horrifying place; large captivating brown eyes, skin with small freckles, perfectly combed hair, except for a stubborn lock, he was the definition of perfection.

"So, who's your new friend, Hank?" I tried to sound casual, but my voice dripped with curiosity and excitement. Hank looked at me with a certain amusement, then sighed resignedly. Before he could respond, the android did, even his voice was beautiful and melodious.

"My name is Connor. I am an android sent by Cyber Life to assist in investigations regarding deviants." I looked at him with interest. "You must be Detective S/N; it's a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand; I took it without hesitation; it was warm and soft. I let go of his hand, and he began to analyze the crime scene.

"You look like a kid who just got a new toy," Hank sighed. I smirked in response and looked again at Connor; he dipped his fingers into the dead guy's blood and put it in his mouth, definitely disgusting. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Hank didn't seem to like the scene very much.

"Analyzing the evidence instantaneously." I looked at him; he comes equipped with the feature that made me give up on forensic police. All I did was watch him work for the rest of the night. As he moves through the crime scene, his determination is palpable, his expression serious and focused. There is no distraction, only his goal to fulfill his mission. As the night progresses and the case unfolds, it's impossible not to be impressed with how he works; there are things that only he can see, like the traces of thirium, was that what made him find the deviant, hidden in the attic? I'm curious to see what the next few days will be like in his presence.

[thecameronchronicles]

All The Right Curves

TW: Smut. Language. Angst about body image. 

SUMMARY: JJ appreciates your curves. 

WORD COUNT: 2200

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

okaaaaaaaay so i had an idea for JJ but there’s no fucking plot >:(

there is literally no obx related smut where the reader is a little bigger or even just curvy.

I was wondering (since you’re my favorite author) if you could pretty please write smut with JJ and a curvier girl? Like maybe they’re at a party and someone makes fun of her, JJ takes her home and shows her how much he loves her body, like he literally is in love with it. I’m a curvy girl myself and i really struggle with finding guys to even talk to

*I AM ABSOLUTELY HONORED THAT YOU REQUESTED THIS FROM ME. I TRULY HOPE I DO IT JUSTICE FOR YOU! I PROMISE YOU, ONE DAY YOU WILL FIND SOMEONE WHO SEES YOUR BEAUTY!

All The Right Curves

You focused on the remaining contents of your drink as everyone else seemed to focus on her. Sarah Cameron. Kook princess. Every guy’s apparent dream from Figure Eight to The Cut. At least her beauty and charisma had entranced everyone but him. The rebel from the wrong side of the tracks, the future tax cheat; JJ Maybank. His eyes had been fixated on you from the second you crossed over onto the sand of The Boneyard. But for reasons you found the origins of your insecurities. As you attempted to hide yourself within the wrap covering the majority of your physique, his eyes adored you for it. He was desperate for even one second of your exposed physique as he found you beautiful, more so because you were unaware how truly stunning you had been. 

“Whale watch!” Some Kook spoke with the intention of being heard, giving the hot-heated Maybank another reason to hate those with the silver spoons born within their mouths. Not that he needed another reason, but with the tears forming in your eyes, it was enough for him to move to his feet and into your direction. 

“I doubt any of them have their head that far out of their asses to notice anything more than everyone kissing ‘em…” He offered his hand. “Walk with me?” He offered as you were pulling a hand from beneath your nose while sniffling, immediately looking at the usual gaggle of friends in his shadow, as he followed your gaze. 

“Did someone put you up to this?” You questioned, well aware that JJ Maybank held a reputation that rivaled that to what he was offering to you now. 

“Is it so hard to believe I could find you beautiful?” You were taken back by his words. As he had hoped they would leave you fluttering with excitement, they only made you question him further as you were well aware of cruel jokes that had begun like this with you at the crux as the butt of them. Because of this, your eyes narrowed in skepticism, even if your voice remained soft in regards to the crush you’d always had for him. 

“I don’t want anything from you.” He explained, suddenly nervous, as he folded his hands into his pockets as he moved out of view. “But to make you smile-”

“Why?” He clenched his jaw. 

“Because a girl as beautiful as you deserves to-”

“What are you getting out of this?” He was now on his knees, taking a soft touch to your knee as to test what you would allow, sensing your apprehension, before withdrawing. 

“I get to make a pretty girl smile. If you’ll let me?” He asked while offering his hand. Realizing he was doing this from his own fruition, you agreed, keeping your heart guarded, as you followed him along the surf of the beach. 

“Are you kidding?! I LIVED for those things…We all used to do them for hours…although everyone made fun of me because I always came up with the same words…” JJ explained as you bonded over a mutual nostalgia for Mad Libs, a specific brand of soda kept vintage in the offering of its glass bottles, and the favorite time of day having been the final moments of daybreak when nobody’s social status mattered and the beauty was on display by God’s hand. Of course, smaller details such as favorite bands and foods were exchanged, with a healthy difference of opinion, that left you to learn of him as he was allowed the same of you. 

“I have to confess something.” Your heart stopped along with the engine of the car after he’d insisted on taking you home, all while you prepared yourself for the line you’d grown accustomed to the majority of your life. ‘This was a joke’, ‘I only see you as a friend’-something along those lines that you were actually going to silently commend him on for confessing before taking advantage of your feelings towards him. But this was different. From the second he began to speak, it wasn’t to hurt you. And you could read that behind those cool irises focusing away from you, finding you once again as he spoke in truth. 

But as you turned to face him as your eyes were brazen enough to need to know why he remained silent, you were taken aback by the sudden force of his lips pressed to yours. A passionate kiss, one you’d only ever dreamed of was now being directed to you. Gradual in fervor, those soft lips widened your own, a tongue teasing your bottom lip, before he retreated in feeling your hesitance. 

“I told you I didn’t want anything…but truthfully, I want to make you come.” His jaw clenched as you fought to laugh, “I want to make you feel good, I mean…I want to make every painful word they’ve ever said go away when I touch you…I want to make you think of me whenever anybody says anything or looks at you in any way that makes you question yourself-” His hand was suddenly more aggressive in your hair as your eyes fell away in disbelief to the words he spoke to you. 

“I want to make you understand how beautiful you are…So please…please tell me your parents aren’t home so I don’t have to make you be quiet…because I really,” His fingers tightened that much further, “REALLY want to hear you…” You nodded in agreement as he was quick to guide you from the car and into the house, your body used as a means to close the door. 

“Where’s your room?”

“First door on the left-” Before you could offer a full answer, you were pulled to the direction of your room, suddenly insecure of the state in which you’d left it. But as the door came open and you realized only an old sweatshirt remained on the floor and a laptop kept open from a recent college assignment having sense faded the screen to black, you found his eyes only to focus on you. 

“Please let me see you, princess…” He requested, that nickname soft, but his words heavy with lust. You swallowed hard, “I’ve been dying to all night…but not just tonight…the handful of times I’ve seen you at The Boneyard…Please…” He asked, his fingers brushing your hair away from your cheek and behind your ear as you slowly nodded. Offering him this, you slowly set the cover to the floor as his jaw clenched to the sight you were slowly allowing him. 

“Can I?”

“Please…” You spoke, losing your confidence, as his fingers felt like fire in the slight trace made in the assistance he made to make you bare for him. Although he had done so slowly, allowing you the chance to stop him whenever you were revealed more so for him, it seemed swift enough to make your heart race, before you were left in only your lingerie. But as your fingers made their way to cover you, he pulled them back at your sides. 

“So help me sweetheart if you deprive me of how beautiful your curves are, I’ll tie these hands to your fucking headboard and leave them there as we dent your wall together...” He was cautiously aggressive, if such a thing could exist, vulgar but soft in the execution of such a threat. 

“Lay down for me.” He offered, standing between our legs as you breathed heavily beneath him. He cocked his jaw, shaking his head, before gliding a touch to your knees, pulled to his hips, as he removed his shirt for you to view him. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…” He saw your eyes cast downward, your own disbelief leading your gaze astray, “And I’m going to prove what you do to me…” He explained, suddenly against your mouth again, leading every single uncertain word he spoke into validation as he lowered those lips to your jaw, down your neck, and beyond your chest, where he lingered for a moment. 

“Goddamn…” He grunted, taking time fondling the clothed breasts, teasing each nipple with a dip of his thumb within each side of the padding, before his lips continued on their path. 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” You explained as his eyes narrowed. 

“I don’t need your permission, sweetheart…And for that, I’m not going to take my time. You need to come quick so you understand what you do to me…and that I’m losing my patience-” You were pulled closer to him at the edge of the bed, an effortless glide made possible by the assistance of the sheets, as he pulled your panties to the side before leading a devoted tongue to your sex. 

“Oh my God, you’re so fucking sweet…UGH!” He growled before returning to your dripping lower lips. Your eyes rolled closed, screwing closed as one finger and then two made their way into a bend at your opening, beginning slowly and increasing in speed as he had you on the crest of pleasure before withdrawing his tongue from your clit. 

“I swear to God, making you moan could make me come…” He licked his lips, rising from your trembling thighs. 

“But the first time I make you will be on me, sweetheart…” He began to unbuckle his shorts, aligning himself towards you as you quickly sat up on your elbows. 

“You don’t want me to-”

“This is about you, baby…YOU feeling good…YOU feeling ME.” He was swift to fill you with his cock, making you wince to his width, being made aware of why he held such an ego. 

“Jesus!” He growled, fingers fisting into the sheets beneath you. 

“I want you from every angle. Every fucking one…but I want to be abel to hold you closer…” He explained, one hand eating into your hip as the other would be led to the bed beside your head for stability. It would only remain here for a minute, however, before he supplied the entirety of his own weight onto you, hiking up his knee to cause your own higher for a deeper penetration, and relying on you for that close proximity. 

“Don’t hold back, princess…I want to hear everything…I already feel it…” You moaned for him as he nodded into you, kissing your neck and fondling your breasts in approval. 

“JJ!”

“I know baby…I can feel you clenching me…I am going to make it last, though…” He slowed his paces, doing so in repetition until you were breathlessly pleading for him. Sweat and pleas existing in sporadic alteration as the moonlight came through as a means of luminescence to find his face contorting in pleasure as you struggled to simply breathe beneath him. 

“Before you come…you’re going to know what you do to me.” He led you to look at the pistoning of his cock moving in and out of you, “I’ve never been this fucking hard in my life…and it’s all for you baby…Because you’re beautiful…smart…funny…Fuck-I’m in love with your body…” He groaned, slowing his movements but somehow moving even deeper. 

“But I can’t take it anymore…so tell me you understand so I can make you come for me…Tell me you’re beautiful.”

“JJ-”

“Tell me or you can’t come, baby…Tell me, I know you’re close…”

“So close!” You explained as he nodded. “I’m-”

“You’re beautiful, baby. Just one time…say it for me, princess…please…”

“I’m beautiful-” You confessed. 

“One more-”

“I’m beautiful!”

“You know what else you are?” He asked, wincing between thrusts increasing in speed. “Mine. All fucking mine. Every beautiful curve. Every FUCKING INCH!” He grunted, pistoning behind every word, before he pulled you to that final edge. The rush of pleasure and ecstasy just beyond reach as he accelerated this by the presence of his thumb running circles over your clit. 

“FUCK!” He belted in finality, your breathless gasp speaking his name before you were made silent. But the second you were allowed the descent from that high, his lips were on you again. 

“That was one, baby.”

“One?” You questioned in winded uncertainty. 

“I’m greedy…And I said I wanted you in every position. Let me so how many I can get you in before you can’t take it anymore…” He brought you onto your stomach, kissing the back of your neck and onto its curve. 

“And then, there’s always tomorrow…”

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