#and on his side i think he thinks of her as a friend and sister

[its-avalon-08]

This is something i have been thinking of. Lando Norris x Sainz!sister. Essentially, both of them are friends with benefits, but they both like eachother more. But Lando makes it seem like he is super casual. So when Y/N asks Lando if he wants to go out for dinner and he says "we arent dating i dont owe you that " and goes with another girl to a club, Y/N is super hurt and is crying in carlos's arms who confronts lando and punches him. happy ending pls

look me in the eyes and tell me how you feel (ln4)

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monaco shimmered under the twilight, a playground for the rich and the reckless. lando norris, ever the showman, weaved through the throngs of fans at a yacht party, a mischievous glint in his eyes. his gaze, however, kept flitting towards a balcony bathed in soft light. there, y/n sainz, carlos's younger sister, leaned against the railing, her laughter like wind chimes.

lando and y/n had a… complicated arrangement. stolen kisses in motorhomes, tangled limbs in hotel rooms, whispered promises that morphed into playful banter the next morning. it was a delicious dance, fueled by adrenaline and undeniable chemistry. but lando, a master of deflecting emotions with a goofy grin, kept it firmly in the realm of casual. he couldn't risk messing things up with carlos, his teammate and closest friend.

the party thrummed with music. y/n, catching his eye, blew him a kiss, a playful challenge in her smile. a thrill shot through lando, warring with the voice of his carefully constructed facade. he sauntered over to a group of models, his trademark grin plastered on. a blonde beauty, all curves and confidence, latched onto his arm.

"hey, lando, fancy a drink?" she purred.

lando, internally cringing, forced a laugh. "sure thing, love." his peripheral vision caught y/n stiffen, a flicker of hurt crossing her features before she masked it with a dazzling smile for a group of friends.

later that night, as the party wound down, y/n approached lando, her usual vibrancy dimmed. "hey, you wanna grab dinner sometime this week?"

lando, caught off guard, fumbled for his usual playful response. "uh, y/n, you know the deal, right? we're not exactly...dating." he winced at the sting in his own voice.

y/n's smile faltered. "yeah, i guess i just…" she trailed off, disappointment clouding her eyes. "never mind. have fun tonight."

lando watched her walk away, a cold knot clenching his stomach. he hated himself for playing it cool, but the fear of ruining their friendship, of losing carlos, held him captive.

he spotted y/n leaving with another guy, a forced smile plastered on her face. jealousy, a green-eyed monster he'd never acknowledged before, roared to life. he spent the rest of the night drowning his turmoil in champagne, a hollow feeling gnawing at him.

rain lashed against the motorhome windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside y/n. curled up on a bunk, she hugged her knees to her chest, body wracked with silent sobs. the memory of lando's flippant "we aren't dating" echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of their confusing situation.

a creak on the stairs alerted her. before she could wipe away the tears, the door swung open and carlos's concerned face appeared. "y/n? what's wrong?"

he rushed to her side, his presence a familiar comfort. all pretense melted away as y/n threw herself into his arms, the dam breaking with a fresh torrent of tears. carlos held her tight, his jaw clenched, a storm brewing within him that rivaled the one outside.

"he…lando…we…" y/n hiccupped between sobs, unable to form a coherent sentence.

carlos understood. his sister, usually a ball of sunshine, was a shattered mess. he rubbed her back soothingly, letting the tears flow until they subsided into sniffles.

"talk to me, hermanita," carlos said softly, using their childhood nickname for 'little sister.' "did he…did he hurt you?"

shame burned in y/n's cheeks, but she knew she couldn't keep it from carlos. "we aren't…dating, he says. just…fun. but it doesn't feel that way to me, carlos. i care about him, a lot."

carlos felt a familiar pang of protectiveness. he'd seen the way lando looked at y/n sometimes, the way a stolen glance lingered a beat too long. the frustrating thing was, lando clearly felt something too, yet his fear held him back.

"he's an idiot," carlos muttered, the words laced with anger and affection in equal measure. "but you deserve better than being kept in some emotional limbo, y/n."

y/n wiped at her remaining tears, her voice laced with a newfound determination. "i know. i just…i thought there was something there. we laugh together, we…" she trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck. "it doesn't feel casual, carlos."

carlos chuckled dryly. "trust me, i know. you practically glow whenever you're around him." he wrapped her in another hug. "but listen, sometimes guys, especially lando, can be dense as bricks when it comes to feelings."

y/n snorted, a faint smile playing on her lips. "thanks for the vote of confidence in our resident goofball."

carlos pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. "look, you need to talk to him, y/n. tell him how you feel. and if he can't meet you halfway…"

he left the sentence unfinished, but y/n knew what he meant. "yeah, i know."

a beat of silence followed, broken only by the drumming rain. "but what if he doesn't feel the same?" y/n's voice hitched slightly.

carlos squeezed her hand. "then he's the one missing out. you, y/n, are amazing. funny, smart, and strong. he'd be a fool to let you go."

y/n looked up at him, a flicker of hope rekindled in her eyes. "really?"

carlos grinned, his usual mischievous glint returning. "absolutely. now, are you up for some revenge ice cream? we can trash lando's favorite video game while we eat it."

y/n laughed, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that filled the small space. "you're the best brother ever, carlos."

"that's what brothers are for," he said, pulling her into another hug. "now, let's get that ice cream and show lando what he's missing."

the next morning, lando found carlos pacing furiously in their shared motorhome. before he could stammer an explanation, carlos launched into a tirade.

"lando, what the hell did you do to y/n?"

the truth tumbled out, a torrent of guilt and frustration. as lando confessed his tangled feelings, carlos listened, his face a mask of conflicting emotions.

"you idiot!" carlos finally roared, landing a solid punch on lando's jaw. "she's been crazy about you for months!"

the pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the dawning realization. lando understood in that moment just how badly he'd messed up.

meanwhile, y/n, teary-eyed, sought solace in carlos's embrace. he listened patiently, his heart aching for his sister. as she sobbed about the confusing, one-sided nature of her relationship with lando, carlos knew it was time for a little brotherly intervention.

lando, bruised and shaken, confronted y/n later that day. he poured his heart out, confessing his fear of losing her and carlos. y/n, hesitant at first, listened, her own vulnerability peeking through.

"lando," she said softly, "we could have talked about it. you could have trusted me."

y/n sniffled, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down her cheek. lando sat beside her on the motorhome couch, his heart heavy with regret. the balcony overlooking the glistening monaco harbor, once a backdrop for stolen kisses, now felt cold and empty.

"i just...don't understand," y/n said, her voice small. "why can't it be more?"

lando reached out, his hand hovering over hers before retreating. "it's me, y/n. i messed up. royally." shame burned in his throat.

"why? you like me, don't you?" she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

he took a deep breath. "like you? y/n, i…" he swallowed hard. "i'm terrified i'll lose you."

"lose me? how?"

"carlos," he confessed, the name catching in his throat. "he's my brother, my best friend. the thought of messing that up…"

y/n's brow furrowed. "so you'd rather keep things…casual…than risk our friendship?"

lando winced. "it sounds stupid when you say it out loud."

"it does," she agreed, a faint spark of anger flickering in her eyes. "because it is, lando."

he looked away, guilt gnawing at him. "i know. i'm an idiot."

silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. finally, y/n spoke, her voice stronger now. "fear shouldn't dictate our happiness, lando. not mine, not yours."

he finally met her gaze, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. "you wouldn't…walk away?"

she shook her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "not if you're willing to take a chance, scaredy-cat."

lando's lips curved into a genuine grin. "alright then, fearless leader. let's see where this crazy thing takes us." he reached for her hand this time, his grip firm and warm. "together."

tears welled up in lando's eyes. "i will, y/n. from now on, nothing but the truth."

and that's how it began. a real, honest relationship built on shared laughter, late-night talks that stretched into sunrise, and a fierce, protective love. the paddock buzzed with speculation, but lando and y/n reveled in their newfound happiness. they were a force to be reckoned with on the track, and even more so off it, their playful banter now laced with a deeper affection.

one warm evening, after a podium finish for lando, they found themselves on the balcony of that same monaco yacht party. this time, y/n leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, a comfortable silence settling between them.

"next time," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "dinner's on you. no excuses."

lando chuckled, pulling her closer. "wouldn't have it any other way." he knew, with a certainty that warmed him from the inside out, that this was more than just a delicious dance. it was a love story waiting to be written, and they were finally holding the pen.

news of their relationship spread like wildfire through the f1 circus. fans, initially surprised, warmed to the genuine connection between the young couple. lando's playful side, usually reserved for post-race interviews, found its way onto the podium, fueled by y/n's infectious laughter in the crowd.

their relationship wasn't without its challenges. there were jealous rivals, intrusive media, and the ever-present pressure of the racing world. but they faced it all together, a united front. y/n became lando's rock, his fierce supporter and confidante. he, in turn, was her biggest cheerleader, celebrating her triumphs, big and small.

their love story wasn't a fairy tale. there were arguments, late nights fueled by strategy and debriefs, and the occasional prank war between y/n and carlos (much to lando's amusement and slight annoyance). but through it all, their bond grew stronger.

one rainy weekend, cuddled up in their motorhome, lando surprised y/n with a small box. inside, nestled on velvet, was a delicate necklace. the pendant held a tiny silver replica of a helmet, engraved with "y/n" and their nicknames for each other. tears welled up in her eyes.

"it's perfect, lando," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

he pulled her close, his voice a low rumble. "just like you, y/n."

years passed, and their love story continued to unfold on and off the track. they supported each other through victories and defeats, podium finishes and heartbreaking crashes. they built a life together, filled with laughter, love, and the thrill of competition.

one sunny day, on the podium at monza, lando stood victorious, champagne spraying in the air. but his eyes were fixed on y/n, standing in the team garage, a radiant smile lighting up her face. he blew her a kiss, a silent promise whispered on the wind.

their love story, born under the glittering lights of monaco, had become a legend whispered through the grandstands of every formula one circuit. it was a testament to the power of vulnerability, the courage to face fears, and the unwavering belief that sometimes, the most exhilarating race is the one for love.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[rey-129-fan]

Well, it's been a while since I've posted any fanfic... Let's change that.

Good news! I'm not dead! My brain did try to get me to do things that could unalive myself for a bit, and then I lost nearly an entire side of my family over the span of 3 years, but I'm still here and still kicking! And I have two new puppies who are adorable and so loving.

Now for this story, this is inspired by a few posts I saw on @theglamorousferal, mostly the one about Amity Parkers going to college in Gotham and buying a hotel (I'm making it a co-op student house, but I've never lived in one, so if something's unacceptably wrong, tell me, if not, artistic license), but also the one where our main Trio buy a building to set up shop there, and wind up adopted my Jason (I swear, I saw that post after I wrote the first chapter, but it just fit so well).

***

Honestly, Amity Park was weird long before the Fentons moved there- the original settlers named the nearby lake Eerie, and it wasn’t after the Great Lake.  It’s just that before the Fentons’ machine punched a hole through reality and created a permanent doorway to the land of spirits and ghosts, the weirdness was not as blatant.

Prior to that, Amity Parkers were some of the few that could move to Gotham without suffering a breakdown that was common for new arrivals.  Now there was a slight dip in newcomers for about a decade or two after the Bat made his debut and then the crazies that followed him, but then Amity Parkers got used to the spirits of the dead wandering around following the aforementioned punching through reality.

All this to say that Gotham Universities were a rather common destination for young Amity Park adults seeking higher education.

Now because of this, there were always apartments advertising themselves for people from the small town.  They, after all, tended to not have a breakdown after their fifth rogue attack and just pack up and leave halfway through their lease.  But it got very annoying having to sift through all the advertisements when looking for a place to stay- something Danny Fenton saw his older sister go through when she got in to Gotham City University.  The boy then shared what he was witnessing with his two best friends- Tucker Foley and Sam Manson.  Tucker offered to help filter out the spam, which Danny’s sister Jazz thanked him for but turned down.  Sam… Sam instead got thinking.

Sam had been to Gotham a few times in her life.  She had an idea of the areas closest to the schools and how much those should cost.  And looking at the letters Jazz was getting, the offers were a little too high for a regular college student to afford.  Sam was also familiar with how many hotels were not being used in Gotham- people building them in hopes tourists would come to stay while visiting the East Coast, tourists that could not be convinced to visit due to the high crime rate and the lack of activities or places of interest in the city itself.

She quickly went to work, looking in to these empty hotels.  She was rather upset by their numbers and put together a spreadsheet of them, with details like number of rooms, any amenities they may have, and nearby landmarks.  She then grabbed her two dorks and marched to Casper High’s Community Outreach director.

Now Sam’s presentation raised a few eyebrows, mostly because it was in a completely different state, but Sam shot back that because of the efforts to incorporate the town’s new ghostly residents and provide them with helpful ways to feed their obsessions- efforts led by the Fenton family- Amity Park had very few homeless, and those that were had a huge community safety net to help them get back on their feet.  Additionally, with how many people moved between the city and the town, helping the city could be argued to also be helping the town.

The Outreach Director just sighed and gave Same the green light to at least draft and send out a proposal to the powers that be in Gotham, saying that there wasn’t much that could be done before they got backing and approval.  Sam thanked them before leaving, Danny and Tucker trailing behind.

She was back the next day with a draft of her proposal and a list of who to send it to.

***

Since returning from the dead in the eyes of the public, Jason Todd was often contacted by groups trying to use the Wayne fortune to fund their own personal projects.  They thought Jason would be the easiest to con- sorry, persuade- since he was a former street kid unlike the rest of his family.  Thus surely he would know just how much this new building with low income housing would help the people of Gotham- it even came with a pool and gym!

Yeah, he did know how much the people of Gotham needed housing, but $2K a month was not affordable when you’re barely making $30K a year!  Oh and the pool and gym were only available for those who could shell out an additional $2K a month.  Jason knows, he read the whole document carefully.

God, sometimes it was hard to tell who was worse, the psychos in Blackgate or real estate investors.  And sadly, he couldn’t just pop a bullet in their heads and be done with it because 1) it would raise too many questions and 2) it would make Bruce get all sad and mopey- again.  Jason just did not have the mental energy to put up with that on top of the rest of his life as a crimelord/vigilante/long-lost adoptive second son of a billionaire.

All this to say, he was not impressed when he first glanced over a proposal to convert the unused hotels around the city into housing units- especially since it was from someone that did not live in Gotham.

Manson?  Wasn’t there a family with that name that would attend some of Brucie’s galas?  Oh yeah, their family made its fortune off patenting the machine that wrapped toothpicks in plastic, as well as a couple others.  And they had a daughter around Repla- Tim’s age.  Hopefully this wasn’t her trying to be a kiss-ass like her parents.

Jason finished reading and sat back.  The proposal wasn’t too bad.  Converting hotels into apartment buildings would be easier than office buildings, and the suggestion to use ex-convicts that wanted to turn over a new leaf as building managers certainly wasn’t the worst.  Also creating a fund for those that couldn’t afford rent, as well as community kitchens and gardens were certain plusses, though would need to have the right people in charge to make sure they actually worked as planned, and to keep the Court of Owls from messing with it.

Overall, it was something Jason would consider, after some research and maybe talking with the rest of the Bats and Birds.  And if this was from the Manson kid, maybe get Dickie or one of the others to talk to her next time there was a gala in town.  Or talk to her himself, if the Pit wasn’t too loud.

…Dick was probably the better option to talk with her if it came down to it.

***

There's the first chapter. I'm going to go write the next one. When I have a good log of them, I'll then go and edit them and put them on AO3.

This has no title yet because I suck at naming. Feel free to comment with suggestions for a name, both for the fic/au and for the eventual hotel/co op. As well as any shinanegans and majors/colleges/universities for our liminal young adults.

Part 1/? Next >

[traumatrios]

the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely. 

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular. 

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 

Were you opposed? Not entirely. 

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

[tgmsunmontue]

Where do I know you from? 7/?

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX

This one is a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster. Uh. *runs*

PART SEVEN

                Rooster has called Maverick over and they’re both staring down at the phone Rooster is holding in his hand, finger flicking through what are clearly pictures and Jake decides to give them some privacy. Heads over to where several versions of himself are talking to Roosters Three and Five, wonders if he should ask the versions of himself if they have any photos of their kids. He can’t miss kids he’s never known though, not like Rooster might miss his parents. Three and Five are glancing toward Rooster and Maverick as well and he wonders if maybe multiple Roosters might want to see the pictures, and that makes him feel bad for Rooster, and even worse about the time he’d brought up his dead father.

                “You this Universes’ Jake?” a different Jake asks him, sitting beside him, and Jake nods, allows himself to clink their glasses together as he takes a sip of the drink Six made him.

                “Ah, which one do you belong to?” Jake asks, not sure how he’s going to track the versions of himself when he has lost track of most of the Roosters, although the fact that a few have simply not disappeared has helped. How do you make small talk with yourself?

                “I’m with that one,” this Jake says, and he gestures with his glass toward Rooster Six, who catches him looking and gives the Jake beside him the sweetest look it makes his heart ache and also feel like he’s intruding on a private moment.

                “Oh. Cool,” Jake says, and then Rooster Six is coming closer.

                “It was a nice idea, thinking he might like to see photos,” Rooster Six says, and Jake shrugs, because that hadn’t been his intention. He’d thought Rooster could just ask questions. On that thought…

                “What are his, uh, your parents like?”

                “They’re great. Ridiculously in love and over the top. Mav is worse though, but between my parents and Ice they keep him in line. I’m glad to see Natasha here as well, that I’ve got my best friend by my side in this universe.”

                “Yeah, you guys are pretty tight,” Jake muses. “What about you, his parents like you?” Jake asks himself, ignores the roll of eyes Rooster Six makes.

                “Yep. They like me. One big weird combined family, and Phoenix combined with my three sisters? They make our lives hell and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

                “You have three sisters?” Jakes asks, surprised, because he has three sisters. Well. Had. He hadn’t thought about the possible similarities between universes, only the differences, and he wonders briefly how Three and Five are going with their spreadsheet.

                “Yeah. What’s your damage?” Other Jake asks.

                “Katie, Laura and Ivy?” Jake asks, forcing his voice not to break, and fuck, he hasn’t thought this through.

                “Yeah! Holy shit! You have three sisters too.”

                “Just two now,” Jake admits.

                The other Jake looks horrified and close to tears and Jake grits his teeth. It’s been over ten years, but losing his baby sister to a drunk driver will never not hurt. Other Jake is pulling his phone out, tapping it slowly on the bar.

                “You want to see?”

                He doesn’t know. Laura is frozen in time in his head at seventeen but the idea of knowing she’s out there somewhere, alive and happy…

                “Who?”

                “Laura. Drunk driver hit her. She was seventeen.”

                “Oh shit…” Rooster Six says, then he’s coming around the bar and giving Jake a hug, other Jake is also hugging him, and he’s stiff at first, not expecting the contact but he relaxes into it.

                “Show me…”

                He sits between them as other Jake takes him through seeing pictures of Rooster’s family in another universe. Then his own family, one not fractured by Laura’s death and he sees nieces and nephews that don’t exist and he feels raw suddenly, like someone has taken a meat grinder to his insides. Their families are obviously intertwined, Phoenix sitting with his sisters, his dad standing by Maverick and Admiral Kazansky and grilling, his mom and what can only be Rooster’s mom sitting back with glasses of wine in their hands. And Laura, older than he’s ever seen her but no less beautiful and alive. So alive and laughing and giving the finger in the photos and Jake’s heart aches.

                He chances a quick glance over to where Rooster and Maverick are still sitting, they’re both wiping at their eyes and Jake isn’t sure how they’re feeling, whether he’s done a good thing or not by introducing them to Six. Of course, he had no idea that he was going to be able to whip out a phone full of photos but he’s glad he’s had a chance to see some other version of his sister alive and happy. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, swallows and lets out the breath slowly, centering himself and he slides the phone back to his other self.

                “So what do you do? In your universe?”

                “I’m a professional computer hacker.”

                “What?”

                “He works in cyber security,” Rooster Six interjects, rolling his eyes affectionately at the other Jake.

                “Oh,” Jake says, not really sure what to do with that exactly, although at least computer hacker sounds interesting.

                “Can you… just tell her I love her and miss her.”

                “Yeah. Of course.”

                “Thanks.”

                They sit in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of himself and Rooster talking surrounding him, although he can hear the others as well, and then he feels a hand clasp his shoulder.

                “Javy, hey,” other Jake greets and he hears Javy greet him back.

                “This is wild man, so many different versions of you. And I’m your best friend for nearly all of them.”

                “Yeah, that sounds right,” Jake says, because a world without Javy in it doesn’t sit right with him any more than a world without flying.

                “You know I’m the best best-friend…” Javy says loudly, then he’s dropping to lean against the bar, eyes flicking to Rooster Six and the other Jake. “So what has you guys all looking like you’re at a funeral?”

                “Was just looking at photos of Laura. She’s alive where they’re from.”

                “Oh shit… you okay man?”

                “I will be,” Jake mutters and lets himself receive another hug, this time from Javy, which feels a lot more familiar.

                Maverick has gone behind the bar, his arms around Penny and she’s stroking his back and Jake’s too far away to hear anything, but he’s pretty sure she’s torn between consoling him and being annoyed about something and he glances behind him. Rooster Ten and Fifteen, with the Jakes he’s going to assume are also Ten and Fifteen are making out, although he’s going to assume they’ve swapped, because no one is disappearing and they are far beyond the simple kissing stage. He stands and pushes against the bar, heads over quickly.

                “Okay. You guys need to go and get a hotel room or something. Penny has a strict no orgy policy in place…”

                “You sure you don’t want to join us? The more the merrier you know?”

                “No. I’m good thanks. You four have fun though,” Jake says, and he’s glad he has something else to think about.

                “Oh we will…”

                “Come on, get out of here.”

                “Where are they going?” Rooster asks, coming up beside him, watching them leave and his eyes are red from crying. Or maybe the effort of not crying. He doesn’t know. His own eyes probably look the same but he can’t bring himself to care.

                “Away. And then hopefully further away.”

                “Uh. Okay?”

                “What were those Jakes like with you?” Jake asks out of curiosity.

                “Fine.”

                “Really? Huh.”

                “Why, were the Bradley’s so different from me?”

                Jake turns to look at him slowly, mouth pursed in thought, not really sure if he wants to go there, because those Roosters had been fine, but they’d also somehow been different from the Rooster standing in front of him.

                “Pretty sure you wouldn’t proposition me for an orgy with multiple versions of ourselves…” Jake says, because while he doesn’t think Rooster would do it, he doesn’t actually know him that well.                                 “What? Really?”

                “Yeah. You okay? I didn’t know they’d be able to show you photos. Sorry if that fucked with your head or something.”

                “I – no. I’m kind of freaked out. But it was good, seeing photos you know? Hard. But good.”

                Jakes nods silently, because yeah, he gets that. Hard, but good. He looks around again, can see so many versions of himself paired up with another version of Rooster and it makes something twist inside him, makes him wonder what the whole point of this is. Then he spies a version of himself sitting alone, nursing a glass of something amber colored and he frowns, looks around again and does a head count.

                Fifteen Roosters left.

                Sixteen Jakes.

                Fuck.

[whitedemon-ladydeath]

Hello 👋

I love your thoughts on anti ic and the way you delve into everything and actually name the issues within them .

I have a rant about Feyre :

I liked her in Book 1 but book 2 onwards Mr SA melted her brain . There are lots of things that irk me about feyre : Her Hipocrasy first and foremost

The Hipocrasy is strong with this girl istg , like you're the one who does a free public porn show for the guy who SA you and then have the gall to compliment rhys when he uses his powers on keir for calling you a whore. Like wtf ? I am on kiers side in this , if your dictator ( because that's what rhysand is ) was fingering a fae in front of all of his court I'd be disgusted too .

The scene where feyre starts crying because of nestas expenditure ? Like bitch you have 5 houses and your "friend s" are always out drinking and fucking and you don't have a problem with that ? I actually think mor is an alcoholic and her relationship with cassian is incestuous.

Feyre locking Nesta in the HOW even after her trauma when tamlin locked her up in the manor like are you kidding me rn ? Seriously if I was nesta I would've verbally rendered feyre to a pile of dust .

Coming to that she also has no phycological damage from the 3 months rhysand SA her and made her do lap dances but when your sister is snarky and calls you for her decisions you have the gall to have trauma about that ? Be fr bro I call my brother whore for fun 💀( only children shouldn't be allowed to write sibling relationships - sjm )

Sorry if this got too long , I just wanted to rant to someone and I hope you understand ( you're one of the few people in this fandom with actual functioning neurons )

Thank you 💗

Yeah, I don't really get Rhysand's whole,,, well anything regarding politics tbh. He talks down and degrades the CoN and treat them as nothing more than oppressive misogynists' in front of them and then proceeds to perform sexual acts with the woman he then wants to be viewed in a professional, respectable and political light and when that doesn't happen, due to the whole sexual act and 'Rhysand's harlot' or whatever she called herself, thing, Rhysand then assaults Keir

So like.... he can assert authority and abuse power when it comes to disrespect to the girl he literally wanted to be his plaything in front of these people, but he can't assert authority when it comes to protecting the vulnerable populations of the CoN or to establish progressive laws. He says Keir is in charge of the CoN and that he can't use the Darkbringers without his permission but then he assaults the Steward of the CoN. High Lord or not that doesn't make a lick of sense if he ever wants to be viewed as a legitimate ruler. I would also be disgusted by such vulgar acts- besides these people did not consent to be witnesses to sexual acts of display

Feyre crying is... I dunno. Like I chalked it up to hormones, but I am more concerned with Rhysand's blatant manipulation and emotional and financial abuse of reading off expenses in front of every single member of the IC. That is a form of shame and humiliation in order for Feyre to 'get her sister under control'. But I also agree, I think it's completely unnecessary and hypocritical of Rhysand and Co to look down their noses at Nesta for spending money when Rhysand himself said that the IC bleed him dry with their flagrant spending on alcohol and parties- which is said in ACOMAF but then it gets played off for the Laugh

Feyre and Rhysand locking Nesta up in the HoW is just sooooo. guh. How is it that when Tamlin does it for *checks notes* five minutes it's the most egregious, unforgiveable sin but when Rhysand and Feyre not ONLY lock her up, they demolished her home, they had Elain pack up her belongings, they made her live with a man Nesta repeatedly, verbally said she wanted nowhere near her. Plus the humiliation factor of not only being talked at in front of the IC, but Rhysand, Feyre and Amren talking about Nesta via Mental Powers in front of Nesta. There was so, so much wrong with that entire scene and the fact that both the narrative and the fandom cannot see why that scene was so disgusting is quite frankly, alarming

Like I can get that Feyre could have emotional and internalized feelings of a bad self image via Nesta from childhood, but I am also aware of what can happen when children are forced into extremely small proximity with each other with a very toxic and unhealthy household. Nesta and Feyre both were at each other's throats. they were both awful to each other and there is a rather large amount of assumption by Feyre and a large amount of miscommunication with both the girls

Rhysand however, with all his abuses of Feyre UtM, just... being forgotten about, just like that, is very weird. Very weird, especially if Nesta is still paying for sins from before the first book even took place. Feyres not getting triggered from the Weavers cottage? shes not getting triggered with his "Feyre Darling"? She's not getting triggered being in the CoN where UtM was inspired by? She's not getting triggered wearing those scraps of clothes? She's not getting triggered when Rhys uses paint on Feyre in Chapter 55 or whatever chapter it was just like he did UtM in front of Tamlin??????

Feyre brings up UtM ONCE to Rhysand and he gets all hyperventilatey and says theyll 'talk about it later' and then guess what, it doesn't. It just gets explained that he just had to torture his mate and what it was doing to him

give me a break

[ornii]

I don't know if you write for her, but if you write for MJ from the MCU, what would it be like if she had a brother who didn't disappear in the blip, became a hero, and MJ finds out when he's injured one night and tries to help him with the hero stuff?

You’re worthy , Loser.

“Mister Jones, can you tell us the definition of Biometric identification?”

You looked up from the football plays you were trying to remember in the middle of class, everyone turned to you and expected an answer.

“Oh, yeah it’s the process of verifying a person's identity through their unique biological characteristics such as fingerprints, iris scans, facial recognition, and voiceprints.” You replied, actually surprising most. You went back to your plays as per usual. Football wasn’t a major factor in your life as you could go without it, but anything for a scholarship you thought. It just so happens that you’re really good at it. Class ended pretty normally and now you had to go find your Sister. Walking down the halls of Midtown High. You didn’t spot her usual spot to brood so you had an idea of where she would be; Detention.

Peering into the Class you saw the substitute and of course M.J doodling. You leaned in the doorway.

“Trouble again?” You joked, MJ turned to you, that clandestine face.

“No I just like to come here and, sketch people in crisis.” She eyes the Substitute teacher. You roll your eyes and lean forward.

“Well if you’re done making people’s lives much harder than they already are, we have to get home. You have a trip or whatever to prep for.” You turned and walked away, knowing MJ was reluctantly behind you.

“So, did you actually make any friends?” You asked, you couldn’t see it but you could almost hear her slouch when you said it.

“Why does it matter if I had friends to you exactly?” She asked you.

“Because good friends keep you from doing really dumb things. And when I graduate I want to make sure you have a few good ones.” You turned around, walking backwards. MJ always hated that you did it.

“I highly doubt I’d do something that bad, plus our “Social circles” if you can call it that are in completely different places. And can you stop walking backwards it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, you’re just bad at it.” You said, you side stepped, avoiding a branch.

“How do you do that?”

“It’s about knowing where you’re gonna be.” You replied. “Hey.. did you see the new Thor Display? Apparently they found his broken hammer and put the pieces on display. You think if it was back together that I could lift it?” You asked, MJ smirked.

“You think you’re a god?”

“Well, no.. isn’t the point is that you’re worthy or something?” You asked, you turned back around as you saw your apartment complex. “I’m selfless i think?”

“If you have to think, probably not.” She replied, and you turned back to her.

“But you never answered, do you think I’m worthy?” You said, and for a moment, MJ was actually honest.

“Fine.. I think you’re worthy, because when dad left.. you turned into the dad I needed.” She admitted, when your father left it was, hard. You did what you had to do, being the dad MJ never had, you couldn’t leave your sister and mom to do this alone. You actually had to fight back tears slightly, you smiled and patted her on the shoulder.

“Thanks Michelle. I mean it.” You replied, and she shrugged. “Yeah, but don’t call me Michelle.”

“Walls came back up huh? Okay MJ.” You opened the door to your home and stepped in, to eerie silence. “Mom?” You asked, but heard nothing, it was odd, she’s usually here before you got home, you heard a sudden thud and turned around.

“Hey MJ—“ you spoke but the words failed to erupt, she was gone, missing. Dust flew out of the doorway as you saw her notebook on the ground. Obviously you were confused, you rushed out the house to see it was fear, terror around the block, around the city, the state… the world. You wished it was just some nightmare, but you never knew it was the last time you ever saw your sister.

It took a year for you to come to terms with it all, half other world’s population, gone. Standing in the school you stood at the trophy case, seeing the Award Michelle won at the Decathlon. She always had this spark about her, she acts like she didn’t care but she did. The rage and grief you felt slowly began to brew into a thunderstorm of what’s real and what’s not.

What’s real; is that you lost your family, to some entity you didn’t even know existed, and you can never exact your revenge.

What’s unreal; is that you’re going to let this ever happen again. With a punch of anger a storm brews, as you scream in anger and pain lightning slams into the earth, and the pieces of Thors hammer slowly levitate and slam together, a weapon reborn not from grief and hate, ready to protect the world so that this will never happen again, you were worthy.

Five Years pass, joining the remaining avengers to go back in time before The Events leading to the Snap. Once the infinity stones were taken from Thanos, Tony made the ultimate sacrifice, putting the life of the entire universe before his, and died a Hero.

Flying desperately though the air you almost forgot how to land, you hit the ground hard, hammer still in hand. You turned to the door and took a step towards it. It’s been years since you entered your family home, it was never the same. You stopped seeing the doorknob twist, you held for breath and waited in fear of what you were going to see, but it was all just in your mind.

MJ opened the door, a bit puzzled. She looked at you, obviously not understanding what’s going on.

“Why are you dressed like you’re going to Comic con?” She said, “You look.. older too.” She stepped down, looking at you like a stranger.

“What’s with the beard? And the hammer?” MJ opened her mouth to say something else but you hugged her tight. Overwhelmed with all of it, how happy you were couldn’t be put into words.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, you let MJ go, somehow not crushing her with your new godlike powers.

“So… it’s been five years.” You said, which made her raise an eyebrow. “Five?”

“Yeah.. you uh, died. A lot of people died, but you’re back now so… damn this is hard to explain.” You rubbed your face, exhausted, MJ saw the look on yours.

“Just, come inside, you can explain it to me at your pace.” She calmly takes your hand leading you in, you did look exhausted, and probably traumatized. Five years of fighting to get your family back.

In my opinion, you are worthy.

[podcastkevin]

This was a doozy to write if I'm being honest. This actually has a mix of my writing and my sisters. I hope this was okay, my sister says it's okay but I'm a little nervous.

For @buffymore , I hope it's okay 😬 🤞🏽

Tags: Cheating, bullying, french cigarette slur, squirting, smut, S.R and N.R are assholes, they belittle and degrade reader, really harsh please read with caution, angst? lmk if I forgot anything.

You barely make it out of the lecture hall when you're shoved to the ground. Use to it, you roll onto your back, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What are you belittling today?” “Same as usual.” Natasha kicks your shoulder, knocking you off your elbow before kicking you. You grunt when she kicks your side and wait to hear her heels to step back to get up and make a run for it to your boyfriend.

“What was that?” Steve asks as you greet him while kissing your cheek. “Nothing important. It's fine. Come on.” You readjust the strap of your backpack and taking Steve’s hand, not missing how Natasha had finally made her way down the stairs of the lecture hall building and smirked at Steve, a glint in her eye and Steve mimicks it and watches her walk away. You see it and it kinda ticks you off but you shrug it off, pulling Steve along to leave.

That was two days ago, now it's Wednesday, the middle of the week and honestly you were so bored. Walking into the gymnasium building, you make your way to your locker to change out of your clothes from track and field.

After changing, you go to take your backpack out of the locker when your being shoved into it and it closes behind you. “What the fuck?” “Hey there faggot.” Sighing, you rest your forehead on the locker wall across from you. “Why are you in the guys locker room, Nat?” She ignores you, kicking the door of your locker and making you flinch. “Saw you with your boy toy. Quite a cutie if I gotta be honest, maybe I’ll steal him from you and fuck him.” “He wouldn't do that to me.” “Sure. You’ll see.” You roll your eyes as you hear her heels click away out of the room, now realizing that you’re stuck for twenty minutes until the basketball team arrives.

As you wait for the team to arrive, you feel your phone buzz, your lucky that the upper shelf is only half of the locker as your able to reach up and grab it to answer it. “Hey Babe, what's up?” “Um, I won't be able to come get you.” “What- Steve, what do you have to do to not get me?” “I-I’m just not feeling well, okay? I’m sorry. Maybe one of your friends in your clubs can drive you home?” “Steve, everyone is already gone, I stayed longer than them to get help from-.” He cuts you off quickly. “Well, maybe another club can- Listen, I gotta go.” The line goes dead and you sigh. “What?” You say to nothing as you drop your hand and lean your forehead against the locker.

You lucky it was only a few minutes until the basketball team walked in, your friend Sam letting you out as he was your locker neighbor and having some time before his basketball practice he even gave you a quick ride home.

Dragging your feet up to your apartment, you let out a big huff as you drop your bag and kick off your shoes. When you open your eyes, you’re surprised to hear the bed creaking, smiling when you think Steve is maybe humping your pillows and you get excited cause you could honestly use a release.

Walking down the hall, you start to hear moans that don't sound your boyfriends. He must be watching porn you conclude and you walk closer to the door and open it. “What the fuck!!” You immediately shout as you see your boyfriend buried deep in Natasha’s pussy in a mating press, her legs folded up to her chest as she turns her head to you and smirks before letting out a moan.

Steve turns around but doesn't stop. “What the fuck do you think your doing?! How could you do this?!” “Are you really surprised?” “Who wouldn't?! I thought you fucking loved me and now i find out your fucking the bitch that has made my whole semester here a living hell?!” “Oh my god!”

Natasha shoves Steve away, the slick sound when his cock slips out makes you sick as Natasha approaches you, dragging your chair from your desk and shoving you into it before turning to Steve who tosses her hand cuffs and cuffs you to the arm of the chair. “Hey- What the fuck, let me go!!” You pull at the cuff even though you know it'll be caught by the arm rest. You can't even turn away, your chair broke months ago from fucking to hard on it.

She returns back to Steve, crawling on her hands and knees, showing off her ass and wet pussy as she moves to face you, a smirk clear on her face as Steve positions himself behind her and enter her swiftly. You look towards the bedroom door, the sounds are torture itself. Slick, wet noises and Natasha clearly exaggerated moans.

“Fuck, She's so much tighter than you, Mn. So much better than you.” You look back over, only looking at their faces with a stern look but the tears and your reddened eyes give away your pain as your jaw clenches so tight your teeth may break. Natasha moves to her knees, a hand reaching back to hold herself up by Steve's neck, the male moaning into Natasha's neck.

A few more thrusts, Steve leans back, pulling Natasha with him as her legs are bent and spread and she cums on his cock when he hits her g-spot, squirting onto the sheets and on the floor near your feet. “Oh fuck, yes, shit. Come on, Mn, look at me.”

You've looked back to the door a while ago and you can hear her stand along with Steve. She grabs your face, turning you to her. “If you liked pussy I bet you couldn't please women.” “His dick is too small. Couldn't even please me.” Steve interjects and they both chuckle when you yank at the cuffs, getting a little pissed. “Aw pissy puppy.”

She slaps your cheek as she leans on the other chair arm, raising her leg as Steve stepped forward to do the splits sideways, Steve grips her thigh and enters her again.

She's split eagle sideways, leaning on the chair and you know they're doing it on purpose and you don't even have the energy to doing anything anymore other than grit your teeth and suffer cause that's what they want you to do. They're trying to make you feel like nothing and if you were honest, it was working.

Her moans were right next to your ear and every thrust Steve shoved into her pussy would shake the chair. “Come on, Mn, don't look so grumpy.” Steve smirks and Natasha reaches for your crouch but you flinch lifting your leg up to stop her. “Fuck off.” You snap, yanking on the cuffs again as you kick her leg, unfortunately for you, Steve caught her and she huffs. “Fucking fag, I could've fallen.” You roll your eyes and face the door again.

“Ah~ Ah fuck~ Steve your so fucking big, fuck.” You knew she was doing it on purpose and before you could blink Steve reaches down, making harsh shapes on her clit before she's squirting again, it getting everywhere including your pants and you flinch, trying and failing once again to yank at the cuffs.

“Just let me go okay!! I get it.” You yell when you watch them get into another position. “No. Not yet. You're gonna watch what you’ll never be able to do. You g-get to watch me satisfy her.” “Motherfuckers, you guys are assholes just let me go!!” “You're so pathetic and worthless. Can't even please someone enough they have to fake it and cheat on you.” “Fuck off, both of you, and let me go.”

They ignore you as Steve sits on the bed and Natasha sits on his lap, the other places his hands under her knees and pulls them up. "Watch him ruin me, looser." She's on full display for you as Steve pulls her knees up, She reaches down to insert his dick back inside her then both of her hand spread her lips wide, showing everything but you're staring at the door.

Between moans and groans they're belittling you, making you feel like nothing but you don't care anymore. “Don't cry you pathetic bitch. You did this to yourself.” “I didn't do jack shit.” “Exactly.” Steve says through a grunt. “You didn't do jack shit. Maybe if you were good at fucking I would've stayed. Your shrimp dick did nothing.” Natasha's hand moves to her clit, circling harshly before she's cumming and squirting again, the farthest so far as it reaches your shirt and her head is thrown back when she also feel Steve release into her pussy, thrusting deeply to shove it deep inside her to keep his cum in her.

When they settle, which was maybe about a few seconds, you watch as she smirks, walks over to your desk and picks up a photo she noticed when being fucked next to you. You don’t even struggle against your restraints as you watch her remove it from the frame, you've accepted awhile ago that there’s nothing you can do, you don’t even call out to Steve, your body limp and tired from struggling against your restraints and the only thing that shows how you feel is your eyes and the tears that still fall down your face.

Her hand reaches down to her entrance, shoving her fingers inside before pulling them out and starts finger her clit, Steve's cum drips onto the photo of you and Steve kissing, a New Years photo. Steve steps next to you and forces you to watch, grabbing your face roughly. “Watch her, fucking fag. Watch your counterpart ruin the photo.” He was calling you a pussy and you knew that. Natasha gasps and squeals at the sensitivity and her fingers pick up speed before she's cumming and squirting all over the photo, more of Steve’s cum drops onto the photo that's now soiled and soaked.

You begrudgingly watch as Steve walks over, taking the photo that Natasha picks up and licks it slowly, his eyes connected to your glare and he swipes some of his cum off of it and swipes it onto your cheek before ripping the photo, you flinch away before looking back over to them. “Uncuff me. Right the fuck now.” Steve grabs the key off the desk behind you, undoing the cuffs and you don't have time to rub at the raw skin as he grabs you and drags you out the room.

He opens the front door, throwing you out with your shoes and backpack. “We're done.” “Fucking bastard, this is my apartment!” “Get your shit later.” “How could you do this to me?” “You for real? I got with you to get to Natasha. I've been fucking her for six months.” “Prick. Let me guess, when I was in class she was the one to make that awful food.” “Yes, actually. We fucked over your food and she's been squirting onto them.” “Fucking disgusting.”

You finally stand up, slipping your shoes on and picking up your bag. “Good luck, shrimp dick.” “Fuck you. Fuck both of you. Good luck paying for this place.”

You walk off and make it to the exit of the apartment before you realize you have nowhere to go. Your feet end up taking you to your campus library where you enter and drop yourself into a chair at a table in the center.

“Uh, you okay? You look like someone thought you were the wicked witch of the west.” You completely forgot about the state those two jackasses left on you and you subconsciously adjust your hoodie. “I’m fine.” You look up to see your classmate James, or Bucky as you heard from other people in your class.

“Sorry for snapping at you. My jackass of an ex cheated on me with my bully.” “That sucks.” “It's whatever. Just kinda feeling like shit now.” “Need a distraction?” “It'd help.” “What kind?”

You look back up and your eyes meet his, a glint in his eyes and you release a breath you didn't know you were holding and your shoulders relax. “You have a place? Was kicked out of mine.” “I do.” You take a deep breath, just staring at him for a moment. You and Bucky were acquaintances but you still knew him enough. “Please.” You breath out and he smirks, closing his book and standing up with his bag. “Come on, cutie.” You smile slightly and follow behind him.

Might not be the best idea but you needed a distraction and Bucky was gladly offering you one. You won't pass it up.

[cheynovak]

Divine Part 3

Michael/Dean Winchester x F/Reader Y/N   

Warnings: 18+, Emotional damage, sexual tension, smut, family drama, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

-- 

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

--  

Dean made the mistake of letting Michael take over his body. While Michael made plans on destroying the humanity he met up with different monster leaders, a few of whom he meets up in a jazz bar he started to appreciate or was it the waitress, Y/N.   

A spark of curiosity hit him when he the young spiritual woman crossed his path. Realising he might have more in common with humans than he wants. 

-- 

Y/N stood on her toes, her body moving without any thoughts given. Her hands moved over his shoulders to his neck. “Why do you hate it?” she whispered against his lips.  

Michael swallows, while he's feeling that same sensation rushing through his veins, just like it did last time. Trying hard not to give in.  

“Because I love it.”   

Just when Y/N wanted to give in to the electric tension between them she noticed Michael’s posture change, his back straightens and his face slightly turned away. He takes her writs in his large hands and pulls her softly away. She didn’t understand what was happening.  

But then she hears her father’s voice. “ Y/N, are you coming inside, we’re waiting to say grace.”  

“I- I’ll be right there.” she answered him but kept looking at Michael. “Maybe it’s best I go.” he said in his business voice.  

“I made food, don’t you dare trying to leave again.” She winked and walked past him back to the house. Michael bowed his head and a soft amusing smile appeared, he’ll be damned if she knew how much impact she had on him already.  

The rest of the night wasn’t really easy going, her father asked a few questions to their new guest, such as where did you two meet. Which Michael respectfully but short answered with “Church”  

Just as he said that word Y/N choked on her food. Remembering that night. “Are you ok?” Gabriella asked. “Hm-hm” she answered taking a sip of water, trying hard not to blush but failed miserably.  

“So...” Luca leaned in, “You are religious too?” Her afford to flirt with their guest was disgusting for Y/N to watch. She couldn’t hold back her eyes when they rolled at the sight of her youngest sister.  

“You’re drooling.” she whispers loud enough for her to hear.  

Gabriella noticed her irritation building toward the youngest sister, “Y/N can you give me a hand in the kitchen?” With a surprised look on her face, she followed her, closing the door behind them. Thinking no one would hear them.  

 “Why don’t you give Luca some slack?”  

“What? No! Why does she have to flirt with him?” Y/N answered irritated.  

“I thought he was just a friend, who do you care?”  

“I-I don’t!” Gabriella raised her brow “Oh come on Gabrialla, he is old.”  

Michael’s face twitched slightly hearing her say that.  

“If you think he is too old for her than he is also too old for you, girl.”  

“What... I don’t... It’s not like... That’s not the point.” Y/N struggled.  

“Y/N just admit you like this guy, would it hurt if you for once let your guard down.”  

“And tell Luca I, might, like him, remember what happened last time?” 

Gabriella sighs. “She’s changed, Y/N.” But her older sister shook her head. “If she didn’t look so much like dad, I would believe she is the devils daughter.” And with that Y/N walked back into the dining room.  

By the look Michael gave her she knew he heard everything.  

“I’m heading to bed.” she said defeated and kissed her father on his head. When she walked past Michael, her hand caressed his shoulder. “Thank you for today.” And there it was again, that wave, the calm sensation her body felt whenever she was near him.  

--  

Late that night.  

Y/N had trouble sleeping, wondering what it was that made her feel this way. She barely knew him, and when she met him months ago at the bar, he didn’t have the same impact on her when she touched his hand or shoulder.  

So instead of doubting in her bed she opened her computer. Searching for the effects of angels on humans.  

Quickly she found out angels weren’t supposed to show themself to humans. Have any kind of relationship was forbidden by and absolute rule. Any angel who did, suffers from the consequents of becoming a fallen one.  

Reading this made her remember Michael’s words: “I sinned for you, I let my guard down, showed you who I really am.” She realised what that must mean to him. He broke his father rule, and in doing so he thinks he broke his trust.  

All because of one tiny human. 

Y/N kept reading deep into the night, learning a lot of things but nothing that explained her feelings. After reading “If one witness the true form of an angels, one's eyes will burn like the pits of hell.” she closed her laptop.  

Pinching her nose, trying to relieve the head-ach the search online gave her. She knew she needed answers and quick, but not tonight, she was exhausted. Y/N closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. While her dreams where restless she whispered his name over and over in her dreams. “Michael”  

Michael had heard her prayers, feeling her discomfort. 

He appeared in her dark room, and then he realised she was dreaming. He noticed how clamped up she looked, almost like she was in pain. He took a step closer, noticing how her body instantly reacted to his presence.  

He placed his hand on her head, curing the headache. 

Michael had no idea how long he stood there watching her, and then he heard it again, only this time her voice sounded at ease. “Michael...” He smiled “I’m right here” her eyes flustered open. 

He expected her to be startled or maybe even angry that he was invading her privacy. But no, she seemed happy. Y/N took in Michael’s appearance, she needed him close to her, realising her body reacted like an addict to him.  

She moved over to the other side, patting the bed. “I don’t sleep.” he said with a straight face. There it was her annoyed look, rolling her eyes. “I do.” she said while crawling on her knees to the side where he stood. 

She took off his flat hat, her hands moving down over his shoulders, she barely touched him but the electricity crackled in the air. Her hands found their way underneath his jacked and vest, pushing it off his shoulder.  

While doing all that she never once broke their eye contact. “Now... take of your shoes and get in this bed.” She crawled back to the other side of the bed. His eyes roaming her body, trying to find the strength to leave.  

When his eyes lingered on her bare legs, he noticed she wasn’t wearing much beside an old t-shirt and some panties. His eyes flicked back up to hers, seeing how much fun she had in his struggle.  

Padding the spot next to her again. “Come here, Michael” And for the first time, since forever, he listened to a human’s command. The second he placed himself in bed next to her she could see how awkward and tense he seemed.  

She chuckled “First time in a bed?” which he answered with an irritated sigh. “Lift this arm.” she said touching the nearest arm to her. When he did, he felt how her body fitted perfectly against his.  

Y/N wiggled her way next to him, pulling the blankets aside to get closer to him, her face snuggled against his chest, letting go of a deep breath “Hold me, please?” Michael’s arm that hung in the air wrapped around her waist.  

He felt the fabric of her shirt moving up while he did. Her fingertips moved in figures over his chest.

Y/N felt the calmness turn into heat. And after some time, she looked up at him, hoping he didn’t feel as uncomfortable as he did before.  

Hoping to find a trace of that same feeling she was experiencing.  

 She saw how he had his eyes closed, enjoying her touch. Slowly she moved up a little, he opened his eyes in an instant, looking down at her, seeing if he needed to move of hold her differently, hoping he didn’t hurt her in any way.  

 She crawled higher to reach his face, in doing so, his hand that held her side now caressed her behind. “This is nice, isn’t it?” she whispered before kissing his neck. The touch of her lips sends a shiver down his spine.  

In protection of himself he quickly grabbed her cheek with one hand, pulling her back. “Don’t” Her eyes already pleading for his touch. “Please.” she sighs, moving again so her legs are straddling him.  

He felt her hands pressing against his chest, her finger grabbing the fabric of his shirt.” Please Michael. J-just a kiss, I need something more.” With a deep growl he pulled her in, giving in. His lips crashed against hers, her body so in need of his touch she moaned without even realising.  

His hands moved a few times over her thighs, but he held her still when she grinds against him for the first time. “Stop.”

Their eyes locked. “No.” she whispered against his lips. ” You want this too, I can feel it in your touch, in your kiss.” 

“You feel it just like me, deep, down, into your core.”

Her lips ghosted over his, caressing over his cheek to his ear. “You want me just like I want you, Michael.” Her hips moved again, this time his hands pulled with her, moving her over his hardness, while she kissed that one soft spot behind his ear.  

“Why don’t you give in,” she asked him, touching his head with hers. “Please Michael, I want you.” Her hands moved to unbutton his shirt. She could still feel his resistance and yet he let her.  

And then she broke the last string that held him together, giving him the last push he needed.  When her nails scratched his skin underneath his shirt “I want to feel you Michael, please let me feel you.”  

Y/N didn’t know when or how, but somewhere in between their heated kisses he managed to take off their clothes. With each layer disappearing he satisfied a tiny bit of her needs. She felt how he reacted to her moans and sighs.  

His hands moved in between their bodies removing the last piece of clothing.  

Michael guided her on top of him, when he pulled her down, he felt her clinging on to his hair, her head in the crook of his neck. A soft hiss escaping her lips. “Are you ok?” his hand held her back in between her shoulder.   

“Hm-mh, just give me a second.”  

And then her hand moved to his shoulders, her hips moved slow and steady over him. Sighs became moans. Both feeling a sensation neither ever felt before. Michael kneaded her hips, trying not to give in, trying not to hurt her. 

“Don’t hold back.” she said in between their kisses. “I might hurt you.” he answered breathing out. “No, you won’t.” With a deep groan he pulled her hips closer while his bucked up. 

“OH MY... Michael! “ She couldn’t hold back the scream, her head fell back. Wrapping her hand immediate over her mouth. His lips curled into a smirk, loving the fact that she was screaming for him. 

He watched her every move, mesmerised by the sight of her. Intoxicated by the sound of her voice chanting his name. On instinct he turned their bodies around hovering above her, unable to control his grip and movements.  

Thrusting hard and deep, earning every moan and prayer coming from those lips.

Michael felt her body reacting to his touch, he saw how that familiar rush of pleasure was building up in her. And just as he pushed her over the edge, he felt that same rush taking over his own body.  

While they both tumbled over, she saw his eyes glowing, before closing them and placing his head against hers. Both completely out of breath. “That was... wow” her hand moved through his hair over his cheek.  

Michael smiled soft, he looked at the clock “you should get some sleep.” He placed his body beside her, pulling her back into his embrace. It took mere seconds for her to fall into a deep slumber.  

He caressed her back for a few hours until he heard a stumble in the hall.  

-- 

Gabriella knocked on her door. “Goodmorning, sis. Dad wants to go on a walk and then grab lunch, care to join?” Y/N looked up, and scanned the room, realising Michael was gone. She thought about it for a second, “I'll drive to town, I'll meet you for lunch. ”  

The walk around town was as usual filled with small stops and people talking to her father. Living in a small community meant that everyone joined church and that the preacher was the only “celebrity” in town. No, she didn’t want that today.  

She had no idea when he left, but her insecurities started to come back. ”Michael... I don’t know if you can hear this. I need to talk to you.”  

A few hours later, she was still tired but got up and took a shower before driving to town. She reached midtown but the sleep took over. She closed her eyes for a second.  

A truck turned around the corner, her car had already moved over to the other lane.  

Just before she got hit, her eyes flew open, pulling on her steering wheel. Her car tumbled over the busy street. Half unconscious she hears the truck hitting its breaks and crashing on to a telephone booth.  

Y/N took a deep breath, seeing how someone pulled her out of her car, a calmness washed over her, her heartbeat slowed down.  

She clung on to his body, her hands wrapping around him, underneath his jacket. Her fingers feeling his muscles like marble under her touch. “Oh God! ” Her father blurred out, seeing how his oldest girl was carried to the side.  

Michael held her tight, pressed against his chest. Funny, people keep calling me that.  he thought. Placing her on the ground. 

Michael looked down at her, his hand caressed her hair while her eyes opened.  She looked up at his beautiful angelic green eyes. That man appears taller and more handsome every time she sees him, her family rushed over to her.  

It all happened so fast she didn’t even look around, noticing how everyone on the street was staring at her. “Are you ok?” Gabriella ran towards her. ”I-I... I’m fine.”  

“Thank the heavens.” her father said looking at Michael from head to toe, but grateful.  

“Why don’t you sit down for a second.” Michael said noticing how she felt wobbly on her legs, guiding her to a bench. “Girls, get her something to drink from the store.” Her father told them. Michael stood in front of her, looking over to the truck. “I probably should check on the driver.”  he said almost like he was waiting on her permission.  

“Yeah, I’m ok, you should go.” she nodded realising not an inch of her got hurt, but then it hit her, he had healed her on his way over to the sidewalk.  

Her father took a seat next to her. “Saint Michael is watching over you.” he said like he used to when his daughters were small, and he tucked them in their beds. Y/N eyes grew wide, turning towards her father, like he just heard her thoughts. 

He smiled knowingly, “I was doubting at first, but now I know for sure.” he said looking over to Michael, helping the truckdriver. “How did you...” Y/N’s words faded. “At the church when he helped me. His hand felt... healing.”  

“At first, I had my doubts, I thought I was imagining it. But now seeing him, saving you, it all adds up.” He looked proud at her “My daughter has a guardian angel” he sighs. “Dad, I would call him a guardian angel.”  

“No, you are right! He is a saint, a prince of heaven, you sure know how to pick them kid.” he joked rubbing her shoulder. “Dad... do Gabriella and Luca know?” He shook his head, “They wouldn’t believe it. Better not to tell a soul.”  

When her father noticed Michael walking back up to them, he stood up and gave his daughter some privacy. “I guess I have to thank you, again.” she smiled.  

“This isn’t funny, Y/N, why were you even driving? You’re exhausted!” She never heard this kind of anger in his voice. Not realising it came from a new emotion he experienced: being afraid, he never felt afraid, not once, he hated the feeling.  

But he saw how his anger unsettled her. She looked at the ground scared to look at him. Tears stinging her eyes. He sighs before his large hand pulled her in by the back of her neck. While his eyes stared to the scenery behind her.  

He hugged her close, calming down, being glad she was ok and that she didn’t die. Glad that he got there just on time. But now he knew he needed to find something to lift the mood.  

“You know, if you want to talk to me, just a prayer is enough, you don’t need to go all suicidal.” “Did you just make a joke?” she asked looking up at him, seeing how his stern face twitched, showing a fragment of amusement.  

-- 

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@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @jackles010378 @k-slla @cassieriddle713 @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28

[myechoecho]

Well, ep 4 went a long way in helping redeem Da Hae's character. It's not fully there yet, but it did fill in very significant gaps so we understand her better.

Her "mom" is not actually her mom but was somehow tied to her father. I do think that the story of him freezing to death, drunk, is true. I am not entirely sure if Da Hae's father actually owed her "mom" anything because I don't think she was a loan shark but more strictly in the con artist side of things. Regardless, she took advantage of a teen girl who just lost her father and had no one else. She's been manipulating and controlling her into paying off her father's perceived debt. Plus her "mom" would also get insurance money if she died. Da Hae's so called killer move is using her very real trauma of surviving the fire, something her "mom" forces her to do.

So while yes, Da Hae is manipulating Gwi Ju and I na, it's also not necessarily by choice but out of desperation to get her freedom from the woman she calls "mom". She even tries to get her to change targets. I also suspect that regardless of what the "mom" says, there will always be one more job.

It makes me wonder too if Da Hae's "sister" is in a similar situation as Da Hae with the "mom". Call me weird, but I kind of hope that Dong Hee and Grace become friends. There's a small potential there that they could be good for one another.

The mother/grandmother remains awful. I haven't said much about the father/grandfather but I'm sort of indifferent to him. He's not as overtly bad but he also basically goes along with his wife so that's makes him kinda awful too.

Poor I Na. I just want to hug her. She's so painfully shy. That girl who took an interest in her is now jealous that Joon Woo took an interest in her. She'll only be her friend if she doesn't like Joon Woo. And of course he heard her say she thinks he's a jerk. I hope she gets some real friends. And that includes Joon Woo, because he seems to genuinely be interested in her and has been nothing but kind. He noticed her, when she was invisible.

[mrsalenko]

i really like joker, i don’t say that enough.

[apotelesmaa]

A while back I saw sm1 saying tsukasa expresses emotions like it’s his first time experiencing them & while it’s very funny and true I think it’s also worth noting that unlike tv/movie actors, stage actors have to really exaggerate their body language/expressions so that their emotions are readable for everyone in the theatre. On screen you can easily pick up the micro expressions on an actor’s face because you’re like 5 ft away at most and the camera often zooms in on their face. From the back of the theatre you can’t read subtle expressions so the actors need to over emphasize and use their whole body. All this to say: given that u cannot take the theatre kid out of tsukasa I feel like his acting just bled into how he expresses his emotions.

Emu also does the body language thing but it’s harder to tell as she’s normally expressing a smaller range of emotions than tsukasa (she’s naturally joyous and whimsical creature & tsukasa is usually given ample reasons to express annoyance). I think that’s more of a result of her exaggerating her happiness so that other people are also happy rather than an acting thing though. Gestures at her refusing to show negative emotions. Entertainer/clown (actual clowns, not the insult) vs stage actor. Really good examples of them doing this is the clip of rui imitating tsukasa & the clip of nene imitating emu.

[bangcakes]

.

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

*Vent post* you can read the tags if you want

[chryzure]

aurora and chrysi should’ve been rlly close friends before the timeskip too. yesss, aurora tried to kill her, but what friend doesn’t go through phases like that? (says this to chrysi & chrysi agrees. says this to azure & he studies both of them. then agrees. says this to LUC & he’s like, “i think that’s atypical, but maybe a therapist can help you work that out.”) anyway, mostly thinking abt a charlie bone au where aurora sides w chrysi and azure and.. jacks, i guess 😬 AND all the other “good” aligned ppl in the red king’s room, and her siblings reject her for it. but it’s bc her friends are nice to her… what has her family done? shove her off to the side where she has to pretend like she’s a fairy princess to feel like she’s lovable? she’s sticking w her friends, thank you very much!!

[noxtivagus]

i think. my fav in fe engage will be louis