#at which point i had to speak up and be like look. i have a fucking 20 degree field of vision - if that. u throw me something

[radiance1]

Just remembered about the Vortex's lil guy au and decided to write a lil about it.

***

When the Justice League arrived to stop a newly risen villain's scheme, which involved taking holding an entire city hostage with the use of a machine that could control the weather, which also involved expanded after successfully taking over the city.

When they achieved victory, they did not expect a child to be powering the machine.

Shazam, surprisingly, was the first one to react. "Danny!?" He said as he flew over to the boy, gently picking him from the confines of the machine (after they it had been deactivated) and into his arms. "Danny...?" He said a moment later, unsure of himself as his voice wavered a bit.

He shook the boy a bit, not too hard though, so as not to do any accidental harm. Blearily, the boy blinked opened his eyes, staring up at Shazam's worried face. "Shazam?" He murmured, voice rough and scratchy, as if it wasn't used often.

Either this boy-Danny-didn't speak much beforehand, or he was trapped in that machine so long that his voice became like this from a long period of disuse.

Shazam seemed to have thought so as well, and by his expression, it seemed to be more of the later as he floated down beside the rest of the League.

Danny blinked slowly before looking around the area, eyes glancing over every member present, then his surroundings and then finally back to Shazam and, with a curious tilt of his head he simply asked. "Did I get possessed again?"

A wave of concern washed over the group at the way the boy so casually asked such a question. As if it happened often enough that he grew used to it and, if the 'again' was any indication, it might just be the case.

"No." Shazam shook his head, readjusting his hold on the boy as he started to try and wiggle himself out of his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yep." Said Danny, not even taking a moment to consider the question. As if he didn't just come out of a machine that feed upon his powers for who knew how long. Shazam's eyes narrowed in a glare that could almost give the Bat's a run for his money.

"Danny." The Champion of Magic chided, and the boy's eyes glazed over for a moment as Shazam simply readjusted his hold again. A moment later the boy blinked, a small purse to his lips and the vaguest amounts of concern slipping onto his face. "Oh," The boy said, no longer trying to wiggle himself from Shazam's hold. "My magic is acting weird, that's not good."

"Well yea since you, you know, had your powers drained and all?" Green Lantern said, the end of his question dipping into a question as the boy turned his head in his direction with too empty eyes that, for some reason, unsettled him.

"Who're you?" He asked with passing interest.

Whatever unsettlement Green Latern felt, it was immediately replaced with the vaguest amount of offence as the boy's words somehow wounded his ego more than such a simple question should have once it registered.

Who then immediately proceeded to ignore him.

The boy then blinked again, turning to Batman and giving the man a small wave. "Hello again, Batman." The Dark Knight simply grunted in his direction and nodded. Then pointed to each and every member present and slowly called out their names.

"Wonder Woman, Superman, Martian Manhunter, " Both of the aliens names were whispered with an underlying awe. "The Flash and Aquaman." His finger than landed on Green Lantern, and the boy furrowed his brows. "So who're you?"

"How do you know spooky but not me?!" Green Lantern ignored the Bat's glare in his direction at the use of the nickname, wounded pride and genuine bafflement allowing him to do such a thing.

"We met before." Danny state simply, as if that was the answer to all questions. "You?" He asked again.

This could not get worse. Green Lantern thought.

It could get worse. Green Lantern realized a few moments later after trying-and failing-to get the boy to recognize him as the members present were snickering at his plight.

Even Wonder Woman was trying to hold down a smile.

His eyes accidentally wandered in Batman's direction to see his reaction and he let out a quiet sigh of relief to see the man unmoved with only the slightest amount of disappointment that he didn't crack. Though it was wildly overshadowed by his ego being salvaged-

Batman's lips quirked up into a smirk before falling so fast that he had trouble believing if it was even there in the first place.

Green Lantern's jaw dropped as he stared at the Bat incredulously, who simply stared back. Unmoved, like a stone. As if he didn't just smile at him.

[dollfacefantasy]

hiii i’m not sure if you particularly like writing hybrid!reader but can i pls request something with leon where he tries to feel out his bunny/dog hybrid gf’s kinks by seeing how her tail moves in response to them. like something she really likes she’ll wag her tail real fast and he finds it adorable

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader

summary: leon plays with his precious puppy girl by watching her tail

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, humping his boot, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, scent kink, dacryphilia, and size kink

word count: 2.6k

a/n: no because i love this idea so much. it's been in my head since i got it. i hope i did it justice because i think it's so cute. thank you for sending it and i hope you enjoy <3

Leon’s eyes rested upon his favorite sight in the whole world. His precious puppy girl kneeling at his feet. If he had to guess, he’d say it was your favorite place to be too. All signs pointed to that conclusion. Your eyes were wide and locked onto his face. Your body vibrated and squirmed with the urge to jump into his lap. And of course, the way your tail wagged back and forth.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

The fluffy appendage moves in a lazy rhythm right now. You were excited Leon was home and wanted to play, but you weren’t thrilled enough for it to turn to a blur. He chuckles and reaches a hand forward to rub your head. That gets it to speed up a little bit.

“You have a good day, pup?” he asks.

You scoot the slightest bit closer while nodding. You tilt your head to the side, squishing the flesh of your cheek against his knee.

“Yeah? What’d you do today?” he says.

“Took a nap. Watched the tv,” you answer, “You look tired, daddy.”

He smiles at your observation and scratches at the base of one of your ears. Those ears, which were perked up at the moment, were so sensitive to everything. The wind knocking something over outside, his car pulling up on the driveway, and of course, small changes in his inflection. 

Though he sometimes wondered if that’s all it was. He sees the way your tail picks up a notch when his lips curl upwards with that smile. He wondered, if not hoped, that it was something more than just your heightened physical capabilities. If maybe, there was something within you, something deeper, some instinctive emotional connection that bound you to him. That was probably wishful thinking. Someone who understood him implicitly. Still that was how he felt sometimes, and it was always lingering in the back of his mind when he watched your cute little ass wiggle back and forth with the movement of your tail.

“A little. Had a long day at work,” he tells you, continuing the conversation.

“Oh. Was it boring?” you inquire.

“You could say that,” he says.

“I get bored sometimes when you’re not here too,” you say.

The short, curt way you speak drives him up the wall. His hand on top of your head trails down to your cheek and gives it a little pinch before his thumb lands on your lips. Your tongue darts out to give the pad a small lick.

“Cute,” he murmurs as his fingers descend to your jawline and then your throat, “Why were you so bored, puppy? You have the whole house to yourself. You have enough toys to fill a room.”

“But I was missing my favorite toy,” you say, nuzzling against his leg.

“Oh, your favorite toy, huh?” he says. 

His fingers tease the edge of the smooth material that was wrapped around your neck. In place of a collar, you wore a pink satin ribbon. It bunched around to the front of your neck where it was tied in a pretty bow. Leon’s own handiwork. He never saw a reason to collar you. You were the most loyal little thing on the face of this Earth. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably just take up residence on the mat at the front door. He’d rather you look like the spoiled princess that you were and dress you in the pink ribbon to match the other pink items you wore, your camisole and panties.

You nod at the question he asked, the ends of your bow swaying with your motion.

“Yeah? Well, tell daddy. What’s your favorite toy?” he prompts you.

Your hand snakes up to the front of his jeans and paws at the area where you would soon feel the outline of his hardening dick.

“That’s your favorite?” he asks, feigning ignorance, “Wow. If I'd known that, I wouldn’t have bought you all those stuffies. Coulda saved me a ton of money. Just let you sit on my cock most of the time, and you’d be satisfied.”

You shrug, not caring to roll that proposition around in your head for actual consideration. Sure you loved your toys, but they didn’t come close to one tucked away inside daddy’s jeans.

He grins not only because you’re so fucking cute, but also because he can see your tail starting to go faster. As much as he wants to pull you onto his lap and breed you till you’re a mess of drool and tears, he wants more tonight. You were nothing if not eager, and while he loved that, it meant that it didn’t take much effort from you to get him to cum in minutes. You’d just get so tight, you never suppressed any of your moans or whines, your face always scrunched up into needy expressions of euphoria…

Anyways. He just wanted to tease it out tonight.

“You have been a good girl today. I think you deserve some time with your favorite toy,” he says, watching the specific twitch when he said the two words of praise, “You wanna play with it right now?”

You nod almost as quickly as your tail wags. A sonorous laugh echoes from him. His eyes hold that glint that lets you know there’s more.

“What’s your favorite way to play with it, baby? You like bouncing on it?” he asks, his voice gaining an amused lilt.

You don’t respond with words. He knows your nodding, but his focus is on your backside where he’s getting the only response he needs.

Swish.

“Maybe you like taking it face down, whining into the pillow?” he continues.

Swish Swish.

“Or maybe you like being on your back, legs over daddy’s shoulders?”

Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish.

“I think that’s the winner,” he chuckles, “Why is that your favorite, pup?”

“It gets deeper,” you say. He watches as you try to be subtle about scooching closer. He wasn’t going to stop you though.

“Oh I see,” he says, nodding his head in mock realization, “You want it as deep as possible, right? And to do that, I have to pin you down, keep you underneath me where I can just fill that pussy up over and over. You like being helpless, princess?”

As his tone becomes more husky, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Your hips fight the urge to squirm, but your tail can’t stop flinging itself back and forth. A tingling flame had been lit inside your belly, one you desperately wanted him to put out.

“Yeah. You love when I’m in charge. You love when all you have to do is take it like a good girl, and you can just let that little brain melt away,” he taunts. With each swish of your tail, it’s like he can hear a game show buzzer ringing in his points.

You wrap your arms around his leg that was nearest to you and pathetically whimper out “daddy.”

“What is it, puppy?” he coos.

You look up at him and give him the definition of puppy eyes. “I want it. No more teasing,” you whine. Despite your demanding words, you stay put. You were a good girl after all, and good girls wait for permission.

“What? You want it?” he mocks, “What’s the rush, baby? You don’t like daddy’s voice anymore? You sure were liking it last night when you were all sleepy. Just whining and clinging onto me, begging me not to pull out.”

The movements of your tail start to become blurry as you remember the previous night. He’d fucked you so good and talked you through it the whole time. The main difference between now and then was that then you had his cock stuffed inside you while he spoke.

“I do like it,” you defend with a pout, “But I just want it, daddy. Please. Wanna be full of you.”

“Full,” he repeats, “Does daddy stretch you out? Make you feel like there’s no room for anything else?”

You nod again, but you can’t take it anymore. You scoot forward more so your knees rest on either side of his boot. His knee kisses the space beneath your chin while the rest of his leg is flush up against your tummy, going straight between your breasts. He knows what you’re about to do, but he’s fine with it. Tilting the tip of his boot upwards, he gives you silent permission to start rocking your hips.

That was all you needed to close the gap between the top of his shoe and your clothed cunt. Lowering yourself slightly, your puffy clit brushes the leather. You let out a tiny mewl. Your face was already starting to scrunch up into a cute little look from such a simple touch.

“That feel good, sweetheart?” he teases.

“Yeah, daddy. Thank you,” you whimper.

Your hips move back and forth as if on a pendulum. The rhythm is consistent like the pacing of your tail. Back and forth, back and forth.

“I think you soaked through your panties, pretty baby. You gonna get daddy’s shoe all nice and shiny? Make it smell like you?” he says with a smug grin.

“Uh huh,” you mumble. 

But when Leon mentions scenting his boot, your tail starts going crazy. Absolutely buck wild. He wouldn’t be shocked if you sprained something from how hard it was moving. God, he was getting hard. A solid tent had formed in the center of his lap from watching you. So precious, so adorable. Those pants and whines of pure lust. The way your fingers were digging into the leg you held onto like you needed it to survive. The nonstop rutting of your hips matching up with the wag of your tail.

“Woah woah. Think my girl might be a little possessive,” he says as he watches you. He keeps his tone light. He wanted this to play out before he let himself have any. To stave off his desires, he palms himself over the rough denim.

Your eyes catch that, and it’s almost comical how you nearly drool. “I just want everyone to know you’re mine. You're my daddy. They can’t have you,” you say, nestling your face against his legs.

Your own pleasure builds in the pit of your belly. You’d found the perfect amount of pressure on his boot. You just had to keep grinding your aching cunt into the leather.

“Poor baby. No one’s gonna take me from you,” he croons and strokes your head. His hand moves so much slower than any of your body parts and the contrast intensifies the pleasure further.

“Good,” you say.

“Mhm. Trust me, you keep my hands full as is,” he jokes.

He watches as you keep whining and humping his boot. Your hips move like you’re on the clock. He can feel drool starting to drip on his jeans and dampen the fabric. If only he could see your eyes. He knows they’re getting glossy, hazy with the bliss coming from between your legs. Lucky for him, a particular jolt of ecstasy pulls your head back and ends with your face looking up at him.

“You’re getting to daddy’s favorite part, honey. Keep going, Keep being a good girl,” he says. Again, your tail jerks when it registers the magic words. You snap your hips with renewed fervor, chasing the elusive high. His fingers press down harder against his cock as he sees the gleam of saliva coating your chin and lips.

“When do we get to my favorite part?” you babble. Your voice was starting to give as the warmth of carnal pleasure encroaches on your mind.

“And what is your favorite part?” he asks, knowing what your answer would be.

“The part when I actually get your cock,” you whimper.

He shakes his head. “Look at you. Trying to be smart while you’re going dumb,” he teases, “Quit complaining. You’re still getting to feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” you whine instantly.

“Oh really? It looks pretty similar to me,” he says.

You make a small sound that’s halfway between a whine and a growl. Even with your frustration though, your hips don’t stop.

“I’m just teasing you, pup,” he says, stroking your jaw with his free hand, “I guess it is different. I don’t see you crying like you do when I’m buried inside. I don’t get to see those pretty eyelashes all wet from tears.”

Your eyes roll back at the mention of being so fucked out you cry. It was one of your favorites, and Leon knew it. Being reduced to a crumpled mess of sobs against the heat of his chest got you like almost nothing else.

The reactions etched across your facial features are cute, but he can’t tear his focus away from your ass moving against its will through the force of your tail.

“But that’s not the big difference, is it?” he continues, “No. The real reason you want my cock is cause you want daddy to breed you, huh?”

As soon as it leaves his mouth, it’s like his mental buzzer is letting him know he’s won the grand prize. Everything about you goes haywire. You lock around his leg while your hips rut like you’re in heat. Your tail whips around so fast he thinks it could create a breeze.

“Uh huh, daddy- ah! Mm… just wanna be bred. Need it,” you ramble.

He feels his cock twitching in his pants. He’s sure when he actually does get it in you, he’s not gonna last too long. It’s straining against the zipper as is, and he can’t stop rubbing it. He’s almost as bad as you on the boot.

“I know you do. Silly little puppy. That’s always what you need,” he coos, “Just need to be pumped full of cum. My sweet girl.”

Your tongue is half lolled out of your mouth by this point. You’re past going dumb. Your head is swimming around in absolute thoughtlessness. Not a care in the world besides getting yourself to cum all over daddy’s boot.

He nearly groans out loud from the sight of it. He can feel the warmth of your pussy all over his shoe, the plush of your thighs clamped near the sides.

“You’re doing perfect, baby,” he mutters, “You’re gonna get your treat, I promise. Just let daddy watch you cum, and I’ll make sure you get your fill.”

You want to whimper “ok, daddy,” but your mind is too far gone for words. All that comes out is a strangled amalgamation of sounds accompanied by your head wobbling up and down. And the whole time swish swish swish.

Your swollen little clit had more than enough stimulation to get you to burst. Pants turn to gasps and fluid movements sharpen. You mumble against his leg, your lips squishing all over his pants and wetting them even more with your spit.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, which is enough to get another loud moan out of you. He chuckles and continues watching with his half-lidded, lustful eyes.

As the movement of your hips slow, your tail’s swings weaken. He still strokes your head as you catch your breath. Your chest puffs in and out while you feel your skin cooling down. It was hard not to get sleepy after you came, but before you have to worry about falling asleep at his feet, Leon scoops you up and holds you on his lap.

Rubbing your back, he presses some kisses to your forehead and temple. “There’s my girl. How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Good, daddy,” you mutter against his shirt.

“Yeah? You think you’re up for daddy breeding you for real now?” he whispers.

And suddenly, you’re not so sleepy. You sit up straight in time with your ears perking up. You nod and give him a lazy smile. He can’t see it, but he can feel that tail already starting to wag again.

[sepublic]

Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!

Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.

I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.

Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.

Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...

There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?

Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.

…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.

[pinksturniolo]

Versus - Chris and Matt Sturniolo

Chris x Matt and Fem Reader

polyamorous: characterized by or involved in the practice of engaging in multiple romantic (and typically sexual) relationships, with the consent of all the people involved.

or also defined as: the relationship you, matt and chris have built. it started out as an innocent game of truth or dare one night which turned into much more than you could have ever imagined. trust, respect, and honesty. these are the three rules set in place that are strictly to be followed.

but what happens when they just don't want to share you after all?

content warnings: poly relationship, not much plot to this one, heavy smut, fingering, oral fem receiving, mentions of a threesome (no incest thats just gross), edging, lots of fluff, angst, !matt vs. chris!, manipulation, jealousy

a/n: this was requested by an anon a while ago, so s/o to them!!

word count: 5,436

You just couldn’t choose. From the moment you met them it was a constant battle in your head of who you preferred. And you just could not decide. You loved them both. Which is why you had proposed the idea of a polyamorous relationship 6 months ago.

This came as an extremely difficult task. You found it hard to even muster the courage to bring it up to them. You had no experience with this type of relationship, nor had the thought even crossed your mind until that night. When you had a taste of what it would be like to have them both all to yourself.

“I dare you to kiss me.” You slurred, the taste of cherry vodka lingering on your tongue. The words seemed to escape your mouth before your brain could even process.

Your heart races in fear at what you just blurted, Matt looking at you with wide eyes. Previously the dares were innocent, and the truths were simple questions. Just a harmless game being played between three best friends.

There’s a temporary moment of silence before Chris speaks up. “Don’t be a pussy. I will if you don’t.”

Matt’s shocked expression turns into a glare at his threat, causing him to move closer to you from his spot on the shaggy rug of your bedroom floor.

He takes in the look of apprehension on your face, placing a light touch to your knee. “Are you sure, Y/N?”

You can’t really take back the dare now. Even if you did, it would definitely be brought up later, when you three were sober and trying to explain where your sudden boost of confidence came from would just be embarrassing.

Besides, it’s not like you haven’t thought about Matt’s lips on yours before. And other places.

So, you say yes and place a hand on his jaw as he hovers his mouth over yours. He pauses for a few seconds to look into your eyes and then kisses you, a light moan escaping your throat as soon as your lips touch his.

You don’t mean for the sound to be heard but it’s almost like a reflex, because the electric feeling of his soft lips against your plush ones instantly has your head spinning in a good way, and a throb starting in your core.

Chris hears this, his eyes locked on your face and the way your tongue slips out to touch Matt’s. This is forbidden territory, watching his brother make out with a girl that he’s pined over since the moment he laid eyes on her. But he feels a need for you growing inside him that he just can’t ignore.

He wants to kiss you too, and not just that, he wants to make you moan for him in the way you just did for Matt. In fact, he knows he can do so much more. He can have you screaming his name by the end of the night, so that you forget his brother even existed.

And Matt… well he’s completely forgotten Chris is even in the room at this point. He kisses you in the way he’s been dreaming of every night. His hand moves from your knee to your upper thigh, feeling goosebumps on your skin. The little sounds you make only fuel his fire, the bulge in his pants growing tighter and tighter by the second.

He finally pulls away, and you’re breathless, your eyes lingering on Matt’s before looking over to Chris. His eyes are dark, staring at your puffy lips and flushed face.

“My turn.”

Once you started, you just couldn’t get enough. You then began to develop feelings for both of them. You craved their presence, you became addicted.

 And they wanted nothing more than to please you. It was like a fantasy come to life. Once the boundaries were established and the rules discussed, you three were inseparable. And you were good at keeping it a secret, even from Nick, which was not something one could easily do.

As time went on, you got better and better at managing your time equally with them, learning their similarities and differences, and knowing when to take time to yourself as well, not wanting to neglect your personal life.

But recently, tensions started to rise. You noticed that Matt and Chris were more irritable with each other than they usually were. They argued constantly, starting to become more selfish with you each night. It hurt you to know that you could potentially be coming in between them. You knew that the relationship wasn’t good in the long run, and someone was going to end up hurt.

Despite that, you just couldn't walk away. It was more than just sex. You were in love with two people at the same time. And oh, how they loved you…

✰ Chris met you first.

Exactly 30 minutes before Matt, which he loves to rub in his face every chance he gets. It was at a party one of your mutual friends hosted, and his bubbly and goofy personality immediately charmed you. He had a way of making you seem like you were the most important person in the room, focusing his full attention on you. And once you were introduced to Matt and noticed how introverted he was, it only solidified the fact that Chris was one of the most hyperactive people you had met. But you loved it. It paired well with your calm persona, and he constantly had you smiling from ear to ear with his off the wall remarks.

You soon came to know that these traits were just scratching the surface. The more time you spent with him, you observed how emotionally intelligent he was. He always picked up on your moods, knowing when you were upset or irritated and would do everything in his power to put a smile on your face or make you laugh. He was very trustworthy, and you found it easy to talk to him about any subject of your life, knowing he would give you his honest advice. He warmed your towel for you while you would take showers, bring you your favorite snack when you were on your period, and play your favorite songs every time you were in the car with him.

He protected you, wiped your tears when you cried, and supported you in everything you worked on. He knew the most creative ways to keep you inspired and reminded you every day how special you were.

He was also the best cuddler, always wanting to touch you and be touched by you. He loved to press kisses to your shoulder when he would spoon you in bed, his hands running over your body, always finding his way under your shirt or inside your shorts somehow. He loved foreplay, enjoying taking the time to explore every inch of your body with his fingers and mouth until you begged him to fuck you. And god, did he do just that. He nearly broke your headboard one time from how hard he would give it to you. He especially liked it when you wrapped your legs around his waist, making him push even deeper inside you, nails scratching marks down his back.

But he also adored those lazy mornings when he would wake up hard next to you, thrusting into you from behind. To hold you close to him and hear you whimper his name, to make tears form in your eyes and your heart ache from the loving things he would whisper in your ear.

And then there was Matt. ✿

Matt was incredibly sweet from the beginning, soft with every touch he gave you. He treated you like porcelain, like a vintage art piece only made for him. He always made sure you were comfortable in every aspect, making sure to know your limits. He bought you little things when he went out, like your favorite lip gloss he watched you put on every day, or your favorite coffee from the café by your house, with a note, ‘Thinking of you’.

He held your hand every time you two walked together and made sure he was the one closest to the street whenever you were on the sidewalk. He took you camping for the first time you had ever gone, showing you his way to make the perfect smore and which constellation in the sky reminded him of you. He also loved to tease you, to get you all flustered so he could admire how sexy you were when you got mad.

He would shower you with compliments, reminding you how beautiful he thought you were. He was obsessed with putting his mark on you, constantly leaving hickeys on your neck and inner thighs, especially when he knew it was almost Chris’s night. He wanted everyone to know you were his. And he loved every minute you spent in his arms, cherishing your body like it only belonged to him. The way your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he devoured you, licking up every drop of your juices, his beard tickling the inside of your legs. He loved to watch you ride him, preferably backwards, so he could watch your ass bounce on his dick and pull your hair the way you liked it.

But he also loved watching your face as he slid in and out of you, kissing you while you moaned, swallowing every sound you made. Wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing lightly so you saw stars. And he really enjoyed filling you up nice and full, watching his cum leak out of you and then pushing it back in with his fingers, your thighs shaking and clenching around him.

It was safe to say you were more than satisfied almost every day of the week.

However, in this particular moment, you’re pissed off.

You couldn’t understand half of what was going on in the movie on the TV right now, due to the argument Chris and Matt have been in for the past 30 minutes. Their bickering was starting to get to you, and it made what used to be fun between you three now just insufferable.

“Matt, I don’t give a fuck.” Chris says, tightening his grip on your ankle. He was getting angrier, his eyes on the TV and refusing to look at Matt.

You were laid out on the couch next to him, your feet in his lap. Matt was across from you on the other side. He had been distant since the start of the night.

“You should give a fuck, Chris. I’m tired of you fucking up the dryer every time you use it.” he says, scrolling on his phone aimlessly.

Chris doesn’t respond, only making Matt more frustrated. “Matter fact, I’m tired of you fucking up everything you use. The kitchen sink is still messed up from what you did last week and-“

“Matt, please shut the fuck up. I’m getting a headache.”

“No, you shut the fuck up-“

“Can both of you shut the fuck up?!” You yell out, stopping both from continuing.

You hated yelling but you couldn’t take one more second of their arguing.

You stand up from the couch, walking to the kitchen to get a drink from the fridge.

You pull out a water bottle, taking a sip, and when you turn around, they’re both looking at you with concern.

“I’m sorry… Maybe I should go home tonight. I think it’s time we take a break…” You say quietly, avoiding looking at them any longer, your gaze on the wooden floors.

You hear footsteps pad over to you and see Chris’s feet in his white socks stop in front of you. He puts a finger under your chin, lifting your head up gently to look at him.

His eyes are soft and he places a hand on your hip, rubbing the skin there under your shirt. “Please don’t say that. I know it’s Matt’s night tonight… but regardless I want you to stay.” He says and you chew on your bottom lip in thought, contemplating whether you should or not.

You glance at Matt who’s still on the couch, staring at you. His eyes flick to Chris’s hand on your hip briefly and then back to your face. “It’s your decision angel. I won’t force you to stay here if you don’t want to.” He speaks and your heart sinks at the disappointed look on his face that he tries to hide.

“I’m not forcing her to stay here. I only meant that I want her to know how much I want her here. I don’t want to take a break.” Chris says, rolling his eyes. He steps away from you, the last words of his sentence laced with hurt. He opens the fridge, grabbing a drink for himself as well.

Matt then gets up and walks over to where you’re leaning against the kitchen table. He stands close to you, his hands resting on either side of your hips on the table. “Is that what you want? You want to take a break? Because you know I only want you to be comfortable. I’ll respect any decision you make.” He says, his eye contact smoldering. He speaks very quietly, as if he intends for you to be the only one who hears him.

But Chris does too, as he sits on the countertop, arms crossed against his chest. He doesn’t say anything though, his eyes on you as he listens.

“I don’t know. Can you just tell me what’s going on with you two? Why have you been fighting so much lately?” You ask, looking back and forth between the two of them.

They’re silent and exchange one heated look before Matt finally speaks up.

“It’s just been stressful lately, with work and stuff. That’s all.”

You scoff, not buying what he says at all. “Truth please.” You respond.

Matt looks at the floor now, as if he’s avoiding something and it makes you nervous, your heart starting to race in your chest.

“I think we should talk in private, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” Chris says and hops off the counter to walk over to Matt before you can respond.

Matt turns to him, his jaw clenching in annoyance as Chris stands in front of him now.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say when I’m in the room.” he says, glaring at Matt.

Chris knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t care. He knew something was up with Matt these past few weeks, from his body language and the way he’s been talking. And he knew it had everything to do with you. They had agreed to never let a girl come between them, but now it seems like that’s what was happening.

 “I don’t have to do anything.” Matt responds, getting in Chris’s face now.

The angry tension between them created awkward silence in the room, as you watch with wide eyes. They’ve never acted like this before and you stand in shock, unsure what to do or say.

“What the fuck is your problem, huh? I’m sick and tired of you acting like this.” Chris says, pushing Matt away from him.

“Okay! That’s enough.” You interrupt, standing in between them now. You face Chris, placing a hand on his chest as he continues to glare at Matt from above your head.

His heart is pounding with anger, and he takes a deep breath before looking at you finally, his expression only slightly softening.

“Please… just let me talk to him and see what’s wrong. He obviously has something on his mind.”

Chris leans his head down to your ear, tucking his face into your hair and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Just don’t forget how I made you mine the other night… the things I was doing to you in my bed…I know you think about the way I make you feel when he touches you in all the places I do…” He places a soft, open mouth kiss to your neck, leaving shivers down your spine and a wetness in your underwear from his words.

Matt clears his throat, and Chris backs away from you, a smug look on his face. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

He walks off to his room, leaving a redness on your cheeks and your heart racing.

You turn around to Matt, a displeased frown on his face. “I don’t even want to know what he said to you.” He grumbles and grabs your hand so he can lead you to his room.

Time doesn’t seem to exist when Matt has you wrapped up in the silk sheets of his bed, his large hands on every part of your body, his soft lips tasting every inch of your skin. You seem to forget all the problems, all the stress, focused on the way he feels.

You’re currently face down, your upper body flat on his mattress and his hands holding your hips up in the air as he pounds into you repeatedly, knocking the breath out of your lungs. All you can do is fist the silk in your hands, a wet spot forming from the drool that pools out of your mouth.

It’s almost as if he’s punishing you for earlier, the way you let Chris spew filthy things into your ear while Matt stood directly behind you. He wanted to remind you that you were his and his only tonight.

But you were still his angel, perfect for him and could do no wrong in his eyes.

He runs his palms down your smooth back, letting his hands rest in the curve of your waist as he feels himself close. From the way you’re clenching around him and making little whimpers of his name, he knows you’re close too.

“Cum for me, angel.” He pants and you do as he says, your orgasm rippling through you for the second time tonight. It would’ve been the third time, had he stolen you away much earlier in the evening like he usually does.

Matt finishes seconds after you, filling you full of his release. After a minute or so, he collapses beside you, sweaty and breathless. You place your head on his chest, feeling tired but happy.

 Once you both settle down, you decide to bring up what he said earlier in the kitchen, your curiosity overcoming you. “Matt… what did you want to talk about with me?”

“I don’t know if now is the best time, Y/N.” He responds and you look up at him. His face is expressionless, looking straight head. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he massages your scalp lightly.

“Please tell me. I know something is wrong.” You plead with him.

He sighs and pulls you even closer, his chin now resting atop your head. Your face is buried into his neck, listening to his slow breaths, yet you feel his pulse pick up against you.

“I don’t want to share you anymore. That might be selfish, but I mean it. I know what we all agreed on… but I just can’t share you with him. It’s all I think about. Every time you’re with him, I can’t hide my anger. And I don’t want to hold that against him but I’m not willing to compromise anymore. I want you all to myself.”

His words sink into you, your heart almost faltering at the emotion laced in his words. You can’t see his eyes but you can only imagine the way his face must look as he speaks the truth to you. You had a feeling he was caught up about something, but you didn’t know it would be this.

You don’t know what to say, your fingers caressing the skin of his neck, as you process his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You loved him with every fiber of your being. But if you chose him, you would only be crushing Chris, who you also loved deeply.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know that.” He says softly after your lack of response and kisses the top of your head.

The two of you drift off to sleep after a while, holding each other and leaving the conversation for tomorrow.

You wake up sometime in the middle of the night, some unknown force coaxing your eyes open. You feel thirsty, and sit up in Matt’s bed, seeing him sound asleep next to you.

You get up, pulling on your pajama shorts and t shirt, slowly pushing Matt’s bedroom door open so you don’t wake him and quietly walk to the kitchen, getting a glass of water.

Once you finish, you set the glass on the counter, running a hand through your hair. You think of Matt’s confession earlier, and how you would even begin to address it.

Lost in thought, you feel a hand creep onto your waist from behind and recognize the smell of Chris’s cologne. You jump slightly from his sudden presence and turn around to see a cheeky smile on his face.

“Sorry, mama. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispers and you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. “What are you doing up?” You ask him.

Chris has been awake since the moment he left you flustered in the kitchen earlier. He heard your sounds of pleasure from Matt’s room all night, driving him crazy. Every time it was Matt’s night with you, he was in the worst of moods. He couldn’t help how jealous he was.

“Just couldn’t sleep.” He simply replies, burying his face into your chest. “Thinking about you.”

He pulls the collar of your t-shirt down so he can place his lips on the swell of your breasts, letting his tongue poke out to run along your skin. You sigh, your hand coming up to hold the back of his neck, your other hand resting on top of the counter you were leaning on.

He places his hands on the small dip of your back, pulling your body even closer to him, his mouth now biting and sucking onto the flesh of your neck and breasts, like he’s starving for you.

“Chris…” You breathe out. It’s not exactly a sound of protest, coming out more like a moan. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin never fail to turn you on, your body a lit with a fire only he can start. He grabs you suddenly by the hips, lifting you up so you sit on the counter.

He stands in between your legs, holding your thighs and continuing to kiss the sweet spot on your neck, right below your ear. He knows how it drives you insane, and he’s getting hard already from the way you’re starting to pant, and tug at the hair on the back of his neck.

“Chris…” You whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles. You feel his hardness press against your throbbing core and you’re terrified Nick, who’s been out with his friends all day, might walk in on you two in the kitchen.

Or even worse, Matt. He would be absolutely furious.

“What is it, sweet girl? Hm? Talk to me…” He whispers, his breath hot against your skin. He sneaks his warm, soft hands under the hem of your shirt, running up to squeeze your breasts and knead them in his hands.

You moan at the contact, your grip in his hair tightening. “What? You scared of getting caught?” He continues, when you don’t say anything.

You nod and feel him smirk against your neck. “Don’t want Matt to see what I do to you?” He says and butterflies swirl around in your chest, your heart starting to race.

You don’t. You don’t want Matt to catch you on the counter with your legs wrapped around Chris as he leaves hickeys all over your skin, something Matt is sure to notice later. You don’t want to be unfair when it’s his night with you, something you all agreed that each of you would respect.

However, the rules have seemed to be bent lately, the boundaries that had been established now being pushed. This wouldn’t be the first time Chris or even Matt snuck around with you behind the other’s back. When either of them had the chance to find you alone, most of the time it ended up with stolen kisses and longing touches.

You couldn’t help but give into your desires every time you were around either of them, even if it was against the “rules.” And you hadn’t admitted it to either of them, but you craved to have both Matt and Chris at the same time again, like the first night on your bedroom floor.

Chris’s hands are gripping the top of your thighs, rubbing and caressing them as he now moves his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling lightly and then sucking before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You moan against his lips, his fingers rubbing your clit over the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. You weren’t wearing any panties, and he feels how wet you are for him, his touch only making you more aroused, creating a mess in your shorts. You could almost slip off the counter from how he’s making you melt around him. “Shit baby- does Daddy make you this fucking wet?” He groans, sucking on your tongue and your head spins.

He pulls the fabric of your shorts to the side, only teasing you for a little, running his fingers through your folds before pushing two deep inside you to the base of his knuckles. The feeling has you moaning into his mouth, failing to kiss him back now as you’re wrapped up in pleasure.

All that can be heard in the kitchen is the squelch of your pussy as he fucks you with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you with slow, deep strokes. Your legs are trembling around his waist and he wraps one large hand around your throat and looks you in your eyes. It’s dark but you can see the ring of blue around his blacked-out eyes, nothing but lust seeping out of them.

“Tell me only I can make you feel this way. You’re not cumming until I hear you say it.”

Fuck.

You secretly loved when Chris was possessive over you, but you didn’t want to undermine Matt even if he wasn’t here to listen to you say it.

He speeds up the thrusting of his fingers, his grasp on your throat tightening. He’s brushing that spot that’s deep inside you, making you ready to crumble around him. “Y/N. Tell me who you really belong to. I need to fucking hear it.”

“Chris, please.” You beg him, not wanting to say what he’s asking from you. You’re so close, you need to release but you know he would punish you for days if you cum without his permission. It’s a twisted game. And you loved it.

You still say silent, panting as he shakes his head and then removes his fingers from your aching cunt. “No. Only good girls get to cum.” He tells you and then drops to his knees, keeping his eyes on you as he spreads your legs wider, now resting them on his shoulders and pulls you roughly to the edge of the counter, so he can lick at your wetness slowly, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Keep your eyes on me. And tell me what I already know baby. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for Daddy?” He rasps and then pushes his fingers back inside you, harder this time, his lips attached to your puffy clit. He’s determined to have you cumming all over his mouth and fingers, as long as you say what he wants to hear.

He digs his other hand into the flesh of your thigh as you stare down at him, the look on his face only pushing you closer to your orgasm. “Come on sweetheart, I know you’re close. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your hips are practically bucking off the counter top as you ride his face, his hold on you strong. It feels so good that you would say anything he asked at this point, feeling yourself clench around his fingers.

“I’m yours Chris.” You moan, and he sucks on your clit harder, releasing for a short few seconds to respond. “There’s my girl… it feels so good to hear you say it. That you’re only mine. Isn’t that right?”

You nod helplessly, your hand gripping the edge of the counter and your other one tangled in his hair. “Yes, Chris. I’m all yours. Only yours. Fuck-“You feel yourself coming undone as he’s brushing your g spot with the tips of his fingers again, kissing your inner thighs.

“Such a good fucking girl. You can cum, Ma, cum all over my hand.” He breathes. He could almost cum in his pants from hearing you say the words. He wants you all to himself, all day and every day. He was so in love with you.

You’re releasing onto his fingers, leaking down his hand and thighs clenching around his head as your orgasm hits you hard and fast, moaning his name loudly.

He watches you in amazement, your head thrown back in ecstasy, the reddish purple marks on your neck now visible to him and he swells with pride. He stands up to hold you against him as you catch your breath and you clutch onto him, your arms around his neck as you calm down.

It’s then that you make eye contact with Matt, who’s standing across the other side of the kitchen with his arms crossed. It makes a shock run through you.

It is a little naïve of you not to think he wouldn’t catch you. And there’s a look on his face you’ve only seen once before since you known him. The first time being when he caught you with Chris’s dick in your mouth on the living room couch a couple months ago. Granted, it wasn’t Matt’s night but he was pissed at the audacity of you two to mess around there instead of the privacy of Chris’s room. It didn’t help with the jealous rage Matt possessed anytime he saw Chris with you.

And now, this is what he stumbles upon after waking up to see you missing from his bed. Chris making you cum with his head in between your legs on the counter.

He was livid, to say the least.

You remove your arms from Chris’s neck and open your mouth to begin to speak but he cuts you off.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you.” Your mouth snaps back shut, and you almost shrink back from the harshness of his tone.

Chris turns around, and once he sees how mad he is, he smirks, his hands still on your legs. “Sorry, Matt. Just couldn’t help myself. Can you blame me?”

Matt doesn’t even look at Chris, his eyes still burning into you.

“This is what you want, angel? You’re not just satisfied with only one of us for the night?”

“No, Matt I-“

“Did I say you could talk?” He cuts you off again.

His arms are still crossed, his checkered blue pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He doesn’t have a shirt on and the veins in his arms pop out, his hair still messy from sleep. The tone in his voice scares and excites you at the same time.

“Since you want to act so desperate and needy, you’ll get what you want. But on my terms.”

Your heart races at what he’s suggesting and memories of him and Chris from that first night flood your mind, making you wet all over again.

“Go to my room and wait there.” He demands and you look hesitantly between him and Chris.

Chris smiles at you, a mischievous look on his face. He squeezes your thigh before helping you off the counter, and motions for you to go on. “Go ahead, baby. We won’t be long.”

You’re dumbfounded at the turn this night has taken as you walk off towards Matt’s room, hearing them exchange words but not able to make out what they’re saying, an anxious but excited feeling in the pit of your stomach.

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @jnkvivi @sturnpooks

[dqrciedaily]

baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰

warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x

-

1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry

2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.

3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.

4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.

5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.

6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.

7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)

8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.

9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.

10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.

11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.

12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.

13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.

[teddynottss]

• - ARE YOU FLIRTING OR STARTING A FIGHT?- •

PAIRING(S): theodre nott x fem. reader

WARNING(S): smutt

SUMMARY: theodore and y/n are academic rivals, and when one time she gets into an argument with snape and gets detention, the slytherin boy finds a way to follow her there

A/N: thanks for 100 followers ily all 💓

——————————————————

Everyone knew you and theodore were academic rivals, both of you had always been racing to be at the top of your classes for years now. However, you always were a few points ahead of him, so you always managed to find a way to brag about it.

You’d always rub your higher marked grades in front of his face, you’d tease him about it in the corridor, lunchtime, anytime, all the time. One class however, potions, was one you faced difficulty with.

Snape wasn’t the biggest fan of your house, Ravenclaw, neither was he of you. He gave you a hard time in his class, while on the other hand theo had it the way he liked.

One time in potions class, Draco gave Neville a potion which caused the Gryffindor boy to throw up slugs all over the room. This little show earned a good chuckle from pretty much everyone, and seeing as Snape wasn’t really trying to do anything about it, you finally snapped. “What the hell is going on?” you shout. “Calm yourself, ms.” Snape answered. “No, no! Look what hes doing to him, do something about it!” “Alright, shush now. This is my class, my business to handle, my choices to make and take.” He said, more angrily now.

“This is bullshit!” You shout. “All right, detention ms!” Snape shouts angrily. Just then, theodore punches blaise in the face, making his nose bleed. Holding his face, blaise speaks “what the actual fuck was that for?”. Theo then goes for another punch and thats when snape stops him using his wand, “alright nott, detention for you too!” you could see the little smirk appearing on theo’s lips as snape spoke.

Later ~

The both of you had to spend your night cleaning the library for detention, wonderful. You got there and to your surprise, theo was already there before you. You ignore him and immediately get to work, you wanted to be done and out of here in no time.

As you’re putting some of the books back, he approaches you. “You’re not going to ignore me the whole night right?” to that you dont answer. “But really, Longbottom, out of all people?” He chuckles. “What are you trying to say, neville is my friend and everyone always finds a way to make fun of him so i will not allow that to happen in my presence.”

You leave the slytherin boy in shock and he turns back to keep working on his part. After a while, he speaks again “You know that this whole problem thing with snape will cause you to fail his class?” he speaks.

“I do.” You scoff. “That means i have a higher chance of getting ahead of you and being at the top of the grade this year.”he teases. “I dont even fucking care nott.” You speak as you keep your face to the front, putting the books back in place. “But that wont happen.” He adds. You turn to him confused, “huh?”. “That wont happen i said.” He speaks.” “And how come?” you ask. “Listen to me, we’ve been academic rivals for years, every single time i was so close to beating you, but i never did, do you ever wonder how?”

You don’t speak, as you cant quiet understand what he’s talking about. He then proceeds to continue “i did it on purpose, i knew how much it matters to you, i read your diary in our first year saying how you were so bad at everything you’ve tried and that studying was the only thing you were good at, thats why i’d write the wrong answers on purpose. Id also steal potter’s invisibility cloak to sneak into the classrooms and change your wrong answers.”

“There is no way,” you say hesitantly unsure what to say instead. “Yes, you need to believe me.” “What the fuck, are you flirting with me or tryna start a fight?” He tilts your chin to look up at him, “i never wanna fight with you, i just want you to be happy.”

Just then you lean in closer and connect your lips. He kisses you back, tongues colliding, his hands land on your hips and he pulls you in closer. He pins you to the bookshelf and starts leaving wet, hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. You moan at the feeling and grab his hair, to which he responds by biting the skin on your neck, slowly, then more aggressively. “Theo, i wanna thank you for what you did” you speak in between moans. “I wanna pleasure you please.” “You’ll only pleasure me by doing what i ask you to do, let me give you head until you forget your name, cara mia.”

Just then he lifts you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, he raises your skirt and lowers you panties. “God you’re already so fucking wet f’me bella.” He says as he begins trailing kisses around your pussy. You arch your back a bit, wanting him to eat you out already to which he chuckles before he begins teasing your folds with his tongue.

He licks your folds then keeps a hand on your thigh to make sure you don’t fall before he adds three fingers inside you all in one go. “HOLY FUCKKKK” you scream and squirm and squeeze around him, only burying his face deeper into your pussy as his tongue and fingers work in sync. You feel your climax building already, “im gonna cum, theo.” You moan as theo speeds his movements. “FUCKK, OH SHIT YEAH JUST LIKE THAT.”

You release and theo licks you clean. He then shows you some of your come on his fingers and he makes you lick them off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good,” he speaks, kissing you. You moan into his mouth then speak “let me give you head, please, i promise to swallow everything.” He breaks the kiss and smiles at you before beginning to remove his pants. You kneel between the boy, who’s now sat on a chair, and find the lace of his boxers.

You pull them down to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. You begin leaving trails of kisses along his v line. Then, you grab his cock and begin massaging it. He leans down to kiss you as you’re playing with him. You palm him and feel his dick twitch at your touch, then you take most of his length in one go. He moans loudly at the feeling as you lick around, sucking better than ever.

You allow your head to move up and down as you try to take more of his length, your nails digging into his thighs. He tugs at your hair, his fingers playing with your brown curls. The slytherin boy then pushes your head completely making his cock hit the back of your throat.

You gag loudly, the sound sending shivers down theos body. As a result, he throws his head back, moaning as you quicken your moves. “Ohhh, my god ‘hm, yeah, please.. mm.. hmh.. fuckkk just like that principessa.” The boy now a whining, whimpering mess. him moaning like that oml.

Without warning, he cums into your mouth. You look up at him between your lashes, your eyes filled with tears. He smiles down at you, watching you swallow everything. He then carries you and places you on his lap, “good girl, that was fucking awesome, tesoro (sweetheart).”

“I wanna make you cum one more time tonight, i know you have one left.” he speaks. “Only if you promise to come inside me.” You announce. He chuckles and nods as he begins removing your shirt. He removes it then proceeds to remove your bra.

Your boobs fly out, bouncing, also revealing your hard tits. He immediately lays his mouth on your breast, pleasuring your left boob, licking and sucking on it endlessly. He also used his other hand to pinch and play with your tit on the other side. This man, lord. He was only playing with your boobs and he was already gonna throw you over the edge again.

He then pleasured the other boob similarly, licking, sucking, and biting before he started leaving a trail of kisses all the way up to your neck. He then held your hips and slowly begin lowering you onto him, you were able to get most of him in the first time. Then, he gave you time to adjust before pushing more of himself in. You moan when you have his whole length in and then when you get used to his size, you begin riding him.

As you begin riding him slowly and carefully, he groans slightly at the feeling. Theo then places his fingers on your clit and starts rubbing hard which makes you feel yourself cum start to form. “Im gonna cum again teddy..” you announce. “Do it, f’me cara mia.” You speed your movements and so does he, you begin moaning at the speed of things to which he kisses you to stop the moans from being too loud.

Then, theo uses his hips to thrust deeper into your so that you’re practically bouncing on him. That is followed by him sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, biting and licking it until you scream as you release onto him. As he’s helping you ride out your climax, you moan his name making him groan and cum inside of you.

The boy then grabs your face and kisses you hard, “i fucking loved that,” he speaks. “So did i” you smile back at him. Just then, you hear a sound coming from somewhere to which you both jump in fear and begin getting dressed. You manage to put your skirt and shirt on, but the slytherin boy only his pants before mr lupin appears.

His eyes widen in surprise at the site of the boy half naked, “a little hot mr nott?” “uhh.. yes sir” he says hesitantly. Remus then chuckles, “im gonna let it slide this time but please try to do it in a more private place and finish your duties too.” You both nod before moving back to your jobs.

[rubberduckyrye]

Okay in all seriousness. There's something that I REALLY want to talk about as an open discussion with the fandom, but. This is not going to be a very nice thing to hear/talk about.

It's about how Gonta is treated by the fandom.

As a fan of all the V3 characters now, and as someone who has always been a fan of Gonta, and as someone who has many mental disabilities and two diagnosed neurodivergancies... I'm tired of playing nice about it.

You all need to stop being ableist towards Gonta.

I've mentioned in the past that I don't like shitting on personal interpretations. I don't like saying something is or is not canon because narration is just a big web of text that you try to decipher with your own personal biases, experiences, and thoughts. That's why two literary analysts analyzing the same text with the same literary criticism rules can come to wildly different conclusions--why people develop different headcanons from the same canonical information.

But one of the things that challenged my integrity is just how many people view Gonta as this innocent, naive, ignorant, baby boy who can do no harm/never has a complicated/dirty/violent/sexual thought in his life ever.

This incredibly ableist interpretation of the character bothered me for, well, obvious reasons (See: It's fucking ableist, need I say more?) but I never challenged it as harshly as I am now because to be frank, it's not my place to tell people how to HC a character. It still isn't. But I've pretty much given up on my integrity on the subject and have decided to go all in on discussing why this interpretation of Gonta is just. Really bad.

First of all, not to promote my own analyses here or anything, but I think this analysis I did of Gonta explains a LOT in regards to the ableism the cast gives him in canon. I also think that this subtle ableism is why the fandom is so bad with Gonta's characterization in headcanons and fanfic--because they've seen how the cast treats him, and they think it's normal. They don't see the microaggressions, they don't see the subtle ableism in the cast--they just see this big giant idiot who speaks like Tarzan in the English version (which... I don't actually know why people assume Tarzan (Thinking of Disney's version) is stupid. Like as a boy he had to reinvent the spear with no one to guide him on how to do it. He was able to strategize and outsmart "civilized" men in the final showdown. Still I digress) and don't see the literal genius behind his social awkwardness.

There is also another very important point I'm going to make in addition to this, and it's going to be very uncomfortable to Gonta fans who insist he's nothing but a sweet baby who only has pure thoughts. Especially to the fans who insist he "can't be sexual" or think it's weird to ship him with his peers.

Sorry to burst your bubble, but... Gonta blatantly has sexual desire and gets horny right in canon.

This is further clarified here:

It wasn't a matter of Gonta didn't want to touch her because touching someone in their underwear was inappropriate, or being flustered because she was in her underwear which is inappropriate...

It was literally a "weird feeling" that made him unable to approach her or touch her. A "weird feeling" that Miu makes pretty obvious as to what it was--sexual arousal.

He literally was sexually attracted to and felt sexual arousal from looking at Miu in her underwear. He had sexual feelings and thoughts about Miu. Why?

Because Gonta is a young man.

Gonta is a brilliant, talented young man who has normal human thoughts for someone his age--sexual desires, upsetting thoughts, complicated thoughts, ectect. He is not a child, he is not mentally stunted (I've been informed that people have literally said this on Ao3 for the NSFW Gonta fics, please for the love of god stop that)

I think the reason why Gonta fans typically want to keep him as a "pure baby child who can do no wrong" is because treating him like the young adult that he is makes it harder for them to justify Chapter 4. Every time I've seen a Gonta fan that hates Kokichi, it's always followed by the sentiment of "Kokichi manipulated and abused Gonta into killing Miu, so it's all Kokichi's fault." They're afraid of nuance and liking a character with the grey morality of genuinely thinking Mercy Killing the cast is a viable option, because it challenges their own morals about the character they adore.

To those people who read this and are upset: You can and should like Gonta! Gonta is a magnificent character who showcases the subtle way microaggressions can manifest and hurt people, he's a good-hearted person and a literal genius, he cares deeply for his friends and loves everyone with upmost sincerity.

But.

You need to re-evaluate your stance on Gonta if you think he's a stupid, naive fool who Kokichi manipulated. You need to re-evaluate why you think those thoughts, why you think Gonta being shipped with anyone is "Kinda weird" or "has weird consent problems" or "give you the ick." You have to challenge yourself and ask yourself uncomfortable questions in regards to why you treat Gonta like a child when canon has proven otherwise, why you think he cannot have violent or sexual thoughts, why he can't think mercy killing his class is the only way to save them.

This isn't an attack on you--but understand that these specific takes on Gonta? They are ableist in nature. They belittle and dismiss him, they treat him like a child, an idiot who can't think for himself--and you have to come to terms with the fact that Gonta is a far more complex character with complicated thoughts and feelings who is a young adult. Not a child. A young adult.

So again, ask yourself this: Why are you treating this young adult like he's a toddler?

[moodymisty]

Perhaps a 40k character of your choice and someone not very comfortable in their body? Shamelessly self inserting I guess. Thanks so much! ☺️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Decided to do Guilliman. You didn’t specify anything (which is fine!) so I kept it vague for you. Enjoy!

Relationship: Guilliman/Fem!Reader(no pronouns are used, but reader compares themself to Fulgrim's wives and also mentions wanting a dress so femcoded one could say)

Warnings: None really

You wonder how Macaggian history can be so, boring. These history tomes Guilliman had given you while interesting, have largely been unbearably dull; Filled with little more than debate and the trials of leadership.

You had far preferred what Russ had once told you about the history of Fenris when you asked, though you’d never dare speak that to your beloved Primarch aloud.

Said primarch returns to your shared room not moments after you think of him, raking a hand through his own short blonde hair.

It’s quite late, the moon is high in the sky and has been for awhile now, and you assume he hasn’t had any rest in multiple days given you’ve seen little of him these past few. He’s been even busier than usual, since visiting Terra. Even if he has his Commanders take over a good portion of his duties while away from Ultramar, his duties on Terra tend to overtake his time and then some.

With nary a hello, Guilliman climbs onto the bed you’ve been reading in and swiftly lays down on it. The bed groans under his weight despite having been made for someone of his size.

He much larger hands reach to grip you by the waist and pull your closer, laying his face on your stomach overtop of the fabric of your nightgown. Your legs go over his left shoulder, as his left arm curls around your bottom, hip, and up your side to hold you close.

“Guilliman?”

He sighs into your belly.

“Give me a moment, if you will. I’m at my limit with these men today.” You assume he means his fellow primarchs. “Let me enjoy you for a bit now that I’m free of them for the time being.”

You want him to be happy, but you can’t help but shift a bit under him, nervous as he speaks so overtly, and touches you with so little hesitation.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable?” You whisper, nervously twirling a piece of his blonde and ever so slightly grey hair around your fingertip.

“Yes. You are perfect,” He says, your eyes widening at the declaration. You're so offset by it your mind wanders and can’t help but mumble:

“I find that hard to believe…”

You feel him suddenly tense, and he lifts his head to look at you.

“You do not believe me?”

He almost seems insulted by it; Like you think he’s a liar. You shake your head as you look away from his furrowed brow. You hadn’t expected him to spear you to the wall so harshly for your self-deprecating comment.

“No I just…” You grunt in frustration at not finding the right words. The Macragge tome he'd given you lays at your side, and you push it away a bit more. “I sometimes just think there are people out there far more, physically suited to stand beside you than me.” He loses some of his insulted demeanor, but his brow stays furrowed as you pick up pace and begin rambling.

“I mean, look at some of Fulgrim’s wives they-“ He cuts you off with his stoic, firm voice.

“You know how Fulgrim is. You know why and how they look the way they do.” He sighs, the wrinkles around his nose and eyes exaggerating for a moment. “Forget all of that.” He points a finger at you.

“And don’t bring him up again, I’ve had quite enough of him and his comments for quite some time.”

You smile a bit, and he softens. He’s glad you find his aggravation amusing somehow. You do wonder what Fulgrim commented about however; Though you know he has a habit of sometimes treading a bit too far into Roboute’s personal life. Into everyone's personal life honestly, though Roboute having you has made him the prime target of Fulgrim's gossip and colloquies.

His hand squeezes you reassuringly, arm continuing to awkwardly cradle you. He raises his other hand to brush his thumb across your cheek for a moment.

“You are perfect to me. You don’t need all of those lavish things.” He adds on. “Unless you want them, of course. I won’t deny you anything I can give.” Your smile gets wider, and he feels your body relax against him.

“I don’t need any of it,” You pause. “But if a dress showed up one day I wouldn’t complain, per se.”

Thankfully Guilliman can tell you’re clearly joking, and rolls his eyes. You speak up again a bit more subtly.

“Or maybe something a bit more, delicate? You could pick it.”

Guilliman takes a moment to catch your meaning before he awkwardly coughs, looks at you gentle but expectant smile.

“I’ll, see what I can do.”

Guilliman swiftly ends the topic by returning his head to lay on your stomach, and rest his eyes for a moment to the feeling of you raking your fingers through his hair.

[xrenjunniesx]

May we continue to love forever

bf!haechan

fluff, mentions of murder jokes

word count : 1,341

In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.

It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.

His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.

It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.

When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.

You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.

You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.

“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.

“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.

“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.

“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.

“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.

You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there

“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”

“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”

You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.

“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”

“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.

“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”

“is it my grave-“

“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.

The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.

“No way… you found this place.”

“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”

Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.

As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.

The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.

He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.

He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.

“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”

You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.

The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.

“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.

“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.

You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”

Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”

You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”

He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”

You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”

“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.

“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.

“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”

You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.

“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”

you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.

As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,

“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”

You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”

[envysparkler]

Clark swore he only turned away for a moment but when he looked back, there was a silhouette in the formerly empty corner.  He jumped, inhaling sharply, before he registered the bat cowl.

“Do you have to sneak up on people?” Clark asked, half irritation, half relief as he willed his heart to slow down.  He was Kryptonian, but the Bat of Gotham was another beast entirely.  Clark was giving serious thought to Hal’s claim that the Bat was a spook.

Surely a man like this couldn’t be human.

Batman’s expression shifted imperceptibly under the cowl and Clark could practically hear the terse ‘well maybe if you were aware of your surroundings’.  Batman didn’t voice it aloud, he never voiced it aloud, but the weight of his disdain was apparent.

Clark blew out a sharp breath, “So, what are you here for?”  He tried to remember if there was any activity near Gotham lately—nothing would step on Batman’s toes quite as much as breaking his one rule—

“Kon-El.”

Clark tensed all the way up.  He couldn’t help it, it had been over two years since he’d found Kon, but he was still overprotective of the kid.  With a megalomaniac for a father and the end of a species for his legacy, Kon had a weighty burden to shoulder, and Clark would absolutely protect him from it as much as possible.

“What about Kon?” Clark asked levelly.

“He propositioned Tim.”  The words nearly came out in a hiss and Clark blinked.  Kon had told him of his plan to ask Tim out, Clark’s discreet inquiries seemed to conclude that the boy fancied Kon back, Clark couldn’t see what the problem was.  Tim was seventeen, six months senior to Kon, and he had dated previously.

Which meant that either this was a gay thing or a meta thing.

“So?” Clark leaned back, narrowing his eyes as he kept his voice deliberately casual.  “What about it?  I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Batman hissed, vehement.  Clark narrowed his eyes further.  “It will not happen.  I forbid it.  You will tell Kon-El to stay away from my son.”

“They work on the same team,” Clark pointed out, starting to get angry.

“Tim will be leaving the Titans.”

“Because Kon asked him out?” Clark asked, incredulous.  The sheer overreaction was ridiculous.

“Yes.”

“Does Tim want to leave?” Clark asked.  He didn’t know the details of how Kon was planning to ask Tim out, but it was possible that he’d accidentally offended him.  “Maybe I should talk to him—”

“No!”

Clark stared.  Batman didn’t shout.  Batman never shouted.  Batman certainly didn’t ball his hands into fists like he was contemplating punching Clark.  Whatever this was about, it was causing the man to lose his infamous composure.

“You will not talk to Tim.  Your son,” Batman twisted the word and Clark came perilously close to seeing red—“will not talk to Tim.  This will never happen again.  Is that understood?”

Clark took five deep breaths to be able to speak without shouting.  “No,” he said as calmly as he could.  “I don’t understand.  I don’t know why you’re so upset about this.  If there’s a problem, and if the kids can’t solve it on their own, then it becomes my business—”

“There is no problem,” Batman ground out through gritted teeth.

“That’s not what it sounds like to me,” Clark said sharply.  “I don’t know if this is homophobia or xenophobia, but our kids are doing a better job of getting along than we are, and that’s something to be encouraged.”

Batman was silent for so long that Clark actually got out of his chair to make sure the guy was still there.  “Getting along,” the vigilante said finally, words slow and faintly bitter.

“What?”

“This is about getting along,” Batman said.  Clark didn’t know whether it was a question.

“I guess?” he answered.  Kon wouldn’t have asked Tim out unless they’d gotten to know each other, breaking the long-held isolation of the Bats.

Batman’s jaw tightened.  “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”  Clark was very confused.

“Okay,” Batman repeated.  “We can…get along.”  Clark stared blankly at him.  “Now tell your son to stop.”

Clark immediately protested, but was sidetracked as Batman pulled off his cowl.  Batman never unmasked even though they all knew who he was, and Clark’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Bruce Wayne’s glittering gray eyes glaring at him.

“Wait,” Clark said, shaking his head, “I’m not telling Kon to stop.  Why are you—”

“Then what do you want,” Bruce snapped.

“For what?”�� Clark was keenly aware that he’d lost the thread of this conversation somewhere and he didn’t know where.

“To call your son off!” Bruce said, face narrowed into a glower, but Clark caught the edge of a crack in his tone.  “Do you want me to get on my knees?  Suck you off?  Fuck you?  You—”

“What,” Clark’s voice was the one that cracked this time, embarrassingly high as he swiftly backed away.  “What the fuck.  What are you talking about?!”

“You said,” Bruce said, and Clark abruptly realized that the terseness to his tone was because he pausing to swallow more often.  “You wanted us to get along.”

“Not like that.”

“Kon-El propositioned my son.”

“Kon asked Tim on a date,” Clark said, voice still too high with dawning horror, “because he likes Tim.  Because that’s what kids do when they like one of their friends!”

“Typically,” Bruce said quietly, and Clark could see the fractures in his eyes, “they don’t also have the power to immobilize said friend.”

Clark stared at him, frozen in shock and horror.  He’d been wrong, then, it wasn’t the idea of his son dating a meta that Bruce didn’t like, except it kind of was, it was the idea of his son dating someone with the ability to overpower him.

“Why would you think,” Clark whispered, “that Kon would ever do that?”  Kon was a good kid, a hero, he loved helping people, if Bruce dared to breathe one word about Lex, Clark would eviscerate him—

But no.  Bruce didn’t say Lex’s name.  He didn’t say anything at all, just stared at Clark with a blank expression.  He looked…tense.  Anxious.  There were dark circles under his eyes and the lines on his face skewed to exhaustion.  He hadn’t relaxed his fists.

Clark walked back over to him, slow and even, posture unthreatening.  When Clark was two steps away, Bruce shifted ever-so-slightly, a flinch, a brace for a punch there could be no bracing against.

Clark stopped.  He turned and sat back down in his chair.

“Batman,” he said slowly, heart heavy and aching, “I’m not going to hurt you or your son.  Neither is Kon.  This wasn’t a—a threat, or whatever you thought it was.”  Because Bruce had clearly thought it was a threat, if he came here to bargain Clark into taking him instead.  “Tim does not have to agree to Kon’s date.  If he says no, Kon will leave him alone.  If he wishes to leave the Titans, he can.”

I am not the monster you so clearly think I am, he wanted to scream.

“If that’s all you came here for,” he said, turning back to the reports, “You can leave.”  Clark didn’t know if he could stop himself from venting his feelings if Batman stayed.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Tainted Past

Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader

A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')

Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.

Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,

"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."

"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."

"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.

"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.

"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.

"What?"

"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.

Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.

She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.

"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.

"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.

The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.

"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.

"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.

"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."

"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.

"I'm assuming you would need my name-"

"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."

Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...

Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.

Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.

"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.

As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.

Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...

ᗢ----------ᗢ

Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.

I just wanted to buy some ramen...

He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.

"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.

He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.

"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.

"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"

"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.

"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"

"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.

"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-

They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-

"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.

"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.

As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-

"There you are!"

A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.

"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."

Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"

"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"

Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?

"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."

"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.

"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.

"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.

"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."

Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.

"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??

"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-

"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!

Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...

---

For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.

He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...

Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.

So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.

Eugh...

It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.

"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."

"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.

"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."

Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.

"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."

"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.

Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."

"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"

"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."

"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."

"How could I forget..."

"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."

He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.

"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."

ᗢ----------ᗢ

I am one mad son of a bitch.

They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-

"I'll be right there!"

Fuck!

Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."

Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"

They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.

The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...

"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.

Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.

And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.

"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.

If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.

"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"

Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."

It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."

"I love the Beatles."

"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.

She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.

Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.

The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"

They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."

Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-

Why am I thinking about her like this?

"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.

"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."

The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.

"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.

"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.

Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.

Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."

"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"

Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.

"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."

She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"

"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.

She's so cute when she laughs.

"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"

"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.

She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."

"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"

The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.

Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.

Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.

The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.

Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.

They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.

"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.

"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."

"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."

"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."

"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.

"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.

She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!

Smut next chapter homie? 👀

[insanely-lovely-and-random]

Alrightyy saw Challengers for numero uno tonight and these are some thoughts/things that really got me the second time round!

*Thess are just my opinions the film can be read however anyone else wants

Okay so hear me out.. Tashi is such a dom, Art is such a sub and Patrick is such a switch and oooh it got me how at the beginning it felt like he was Arts dom, then he finds this girl he thinks is fantastic and maybe he thinks she could be the glue to bring him and Art and her all together BUT then it totally fricken backfires and instead he loses both. Art the little puppy he is starts wagging his tail in Zendayas direction and next thing ya know he's got a new owner and Patricks a thing of the past much to his palable distress. I mean christ boyos living in his car and starving, boys a mess since his lost his dom and sub poor boyo, so now various things I noticed some of which I feel back up my argument haha

Gosh theres so many little moments, Patricks thing for Art seems so obvious yet Art seems totally clueless.

1) Patrick is defos bi, not just because he just so is but also cause he matches with a guy on his dating app during his swiping.

2) The doubles match they play in the past? Gosh they're all over eachother! And Pats clearly in charge of that relationship and Art seems totally cool with that (for then anyways..)

3) When him and Art are watching Tashis game at the vert beginning Patrick grabs Arts leg in exhilaration. I mean he always seems to be touching or in the space of his boy for christs sake.

4) When Tashi mentions the fact Arts going to Stamford Patrick noticeably makes a face, you could say its because shes paying attention to Art instead of him or that hes upset because shes going to college instead of going profesh BUT I really didnt read it that way. To me it looked like he was upset Art was going to college, they've been together for years after all and now their splitting up, poor boyo.

5) When Zendaya asks if theres anything going on between then, Art laughs and says no BUT Patrick??? Science and he looks down, hell he wishes there was summat.

6) He taught Art to jerk off. Fucking hell.

7) There kiss man, all three of then and then just Art and Pat, just soo much chemistry.

8) When he reveals he slwpt with Zendaya to Art, and Arts smile drops. I think he's heartbroke at him sleeping with the girl he likes but I also see it as pain at being left out. These two people he's entwined with and now he's outside looking in. I also think If Patrick had seen that reaction he'd have seen a looot sooner that his relationship with Tashi might backfire greatly.

9) Patrick vsiting Stamford, first person he goes to see, his girlfriend maybe..? NOPE hes too busy chasing Art around the tennis court 😭

10) There's a ton of hot moments in this film. And the hottest? To me? That bloody stool grab with his foot. He wants Art close, he always bloody does! And the churros christ! And once again showing Art who's top so to speak, eating his churro, and telling him hes proud of his snakey behaviour. And that it makes his relationship with Zendaya hotter (I bloody bet it does) He never ever seems to show jealousy about Arts feelings for Zendaya, he points out thay he doesn't see him as competition to her not long after and I BET his doesn't. Cause I think he'd love it if Art was with him and Zendaya.

11) My God this bit gets be cause it gets echoed later. Him and Zendaya are making out and this girl who he's with and cares about is just talking bout his tennis game. And tbf what does he say?? "Weren't you gonna tell me bout Art" hells bells could you be more obvious?? And then the fight, he asks her if she's talking about tennis and her reply "I'm always talking about tennis" and I mention this cause it's gonna be relevant later.

12) The injury happens and everyone loses something. Zendaya has lost her career and ability to play tennis to her full potential. Art loses his best friend and Poor pathetic Patrick lost his bestfriend(and secret love) and his actual girlfriend all in one day!

From here on I cant guarantee my numbered points are in timeline order as the timline stated getting more out of sequence🤣

13) Zendaya and Art in the diner and after hearing Art and Pat dont talk no more saying she's a homewrecker after all. And what does Art say?? Zip. Nada. No denial just silence.

14) Okay lets talk that sauna scene. It was gloriously tragic. Patrick is clearly unaware why Art is THAT hostile towards him. I mean thinking of it from his point of view he'd have more reason to be angry considering the snakey girlfriend behaviour. But he never is angry at Art, not once no matter what he did. Of course we then discover Art is SO pissed cause he knows about Atlanta. Christ I bet pur stupid idiot boy Patrick thinks hes just being cleverly smug with that "when we were teenagers" line but idiot boyo your rubbing salt in the wounds 😭

15) still about the sauna, the naked trying to be top dog like old times but no no no, not anymore. Arts not his to be in charge of anymore. And the camera shows Art as higher while Patrick slouches nearby. Patrick asks him when he's so mad but doesn't get an answer. This scene was tragic to me, Patrick just seems hurt by Arts attitude. Art points out that they're no longer peers and I love this because thats the difference between the Zendaya/boys relationship and Arts and Pats. Pat may have been the dom so to speak with Art but he still saw them as peers. Zendaya doesn't. Thats the main difference in their relationships. Respect.

16) One of my fave damn parts of dialogue in the movie. (I really can't remember exact phrasing but this is how I rememeber it) Art is so sus of Pat, Pat asks him if he misses it, Art says he doesnt. And when Pat says he wasn't talking about tennis, Art says "Your always talking to me about tennis" and oof the punch to my gut that was. And it seemed to Patricks too! His face, this poor boy has twice been talking to the people he cares about, abou their relationship and they just say their talking about tennis, he cant catch a break😭

17) Pats reaction to Zendaya asking him to throw the game, is he offended for himself? Nopeee he's mad that she'd do that to Art. He says something along the lines of fucking him was one thing but to have Arts victory be a lie?? Gross, too far, too much of a betrayal.

18) For the third time, having just fucked Zendaya in the car and she just immediately brings up him throwing the match, like crimeny man this boy is probs sick of this game getting in the way of his relationships haha

19) Ooh that match point is glorious glorious cinema my friends. Patrick is so interesting in this whole match. Him deliberating on if he's gonna tell Art? So juicy and the way he did was fucking hilarious. That unspoken signal? Beauty.

20) Arts reaction? Wow oh wowww. The lad went through the five fricken stages of grief! The denial "fuck off!" the rage, throwing his racket, the bargaining, looking at Zendaya as if to say its not true (when she has no fucking clue what just happened). The depression, those sad sweaty tears 🥲 and then? That gorgeous smile, that acceptance. I think he felt catharsis, his marraige was clearly dysfunctional at this point and maybe knowing she cheated, knowing she'd threatened to leave if he lost, maybe that helped him let go of it. Ripped off the bandage, turned off life support, finally shake the pedestal he'd put his wife on( he compared her to jesus for christs sake). He made it through to the otherside and Patrick was there waiting for him with open arms ()iterally lol)

21) When Pat sees Arts smile? His own blossoms, clearly in relief and exaltation. I truly think he told him not to throw his game but to spur Art on. To finally unlock his potential. And to get the old Art he knew back and it bloody worked. That final back and forth, the pure energy, those sexual grunts all building up to a crescendo of a climax. Hooo boy

22) That goddamn brilliant leap in the air. Art is freed and flying, and Patrick doesn't hesitate he flings his racket to the floor because the thing that mattered to him most was never tennis. And he catches his boy with arms wide and then that embrace. They have finally come back together. It was beautiful. What does losing the match matter to Pat when he finally has his arms all over Art again just like he did in the beginning. We have come full circle.

Hahaha this is purely my own read into the movie and obvs mostly about the Patrick character and how I saw his actions. Now a few little bonus notes I noticed.

Nearly everything the boys eat/drink seems phallic, hotdogs, bananas, churros, even those drink bottles and cigarettes. Boyos are obsessed!

Zendaya on the rock at the beach was very little mermaid. Also in that scene when she said she wouldn't wanna get between em. Art said they didn't love together but Pat says "It's an open relationship" hecks you too obvious boy.

This movies so chock full of foreshadowing too, the story about Cat who got injured a week later. Patrick at Tashis party saying she'd have deals and a foundation which she does but via her relationship with Art instead just really cool script tbh

(Will probs add more when I remember em/see it for third time cause I am planning on that🤣🤣)

[estxkios]

Hello :3 I luv luv luv all of ur fanfics / headcannons <333

I wanted to ask if you could write a 2005 Bill headcannon where the readers style is cutecore. I haven’t seen anyone do this yet and have been very nervous to ask :0

have a good rest of your day / night you lovely person!!!

OPPOSITES ATTRACT ੈ✩‧₊˚

2005 bill kaulitz x cutecore!reader

summary: the request :3

warnings: just fluff, implied fem reader but i tried to keep it neutral :,)

--------------------------------------------------------

the first time he saw you he thought you were the cutest thing ever.

this man did the whole 360 turn to see if his eyes were correct!!:3 (and deep into your relationship honestly he still does this because he thinks ur just adorable !)

the pink skirt you were wearing literally made him go insane he just had to get ur number

i can imagine you giving him the just the cutest dantiest pink bracelet ever, and no matter what hes wearing or what hes doing that day he keeps it on.

like this scary looking man dressed in all black wearing this small little bow bracelet just for u :>

speaking of things like accessories, he randomly takes your jewelry, especially necklaces

one day he took one of your pink chunky necklaces to wear to an event and the other boys were making fun of him

"no way ur really gonna wear that to the event" tom would say

and bil would just confidently reply

"i think it's cute !! plus, it adds to my outfit." :>

needless to say they kept making fun of him, but bill just stood on bussiness.

he would be grabbing the necklace the whole night

just smiling and thinking of you while he touched it

another thing that bill would do is watch you while you did your makeup.

wether it be just some pink eye shadow or a full glitter look he would always be fascinated about how good it always ended up looking !!

so one day he just sat next to you while you were doing your eye shadow and said,

"me next?"

"hm..?" he just sat and looked at you patiently as you processed his request.

"ohhh !" you grabbed your brush and the pallet you were using, "which color do you want?"

he pointed at the light pink, "jus' like you"

you giggled, did he really want pink eyeshadow or was he joking?

he looked at you seriously.

you looked at him with a questioning look as you picked up the brush, rubbing it against the shade he chose.

you lifted his spiky hair out of the way and grabbed his jaw for support,

he stared directly into your eyes as you prepared to start, making you giggle

"close your eyes liebe," you softly said as you started to put the color on his eyes in the normal shape he usually did with his black eyeshadow.

"all done!" you said moments later, putting down the brush.

bill blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes and looking into the mirror.

"cute," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

he didnt say anything immediately after, but he turned to give you fat kiss, and i think that says a lot LMAO

and needless to say, you did his makeup many more times after this :3

--------------------------------------------------------

anyways, sorry for how short this is !! i hope i did your request justice because i loved writing it !!

[danikamariewrites]

Hi how have you been

Can I make request for Nesta? Just her being very protective of her innocent gf who is too nice to people and does not know when she is being used and manipulated (so relatable) so nesta always needs to be with her to make sure she doesn’t get taken advantage of

Best Friends Forever

Nesta x reader

A/n: I would kill for a protective gf like Nes. She also gives scary gf privileges. I also could’ve used her to weed out my shitty friends because I was so bad at that.

Warnings: none

Nesta had sworn you were supposed to be out with your friends. She had sworn she heard you tell Gwyn over morning tea, excitedly for that matter, about your plans. So when she arrived home later that afternoon Nesta was confused as to why you were home.

You were curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around your body, with a book in hand. Nesta didn’t ask why. You already had a frown on your face, Nesta didn’t want to upset you anymore.

Weeks went by. Nesta watched as the vicious cycle continued. Your friends promising to hang out with you and then canceling or straight up telling you, “oh, so-and-so will be there and you don’t like each other, so you shouldn’t come out.” You put on a brave face, acting like it didn’t bother you.

It did. Nesta knew it did. The problem, besides your “friends”, was that Nesta didn’t know how to help. She wanted to be mean to your friends. Hell, she wanted to throttle them. The Valkyrie has been protective of you since the day she met you. The fact that you’re being treated so poorly drove her crazy.

You had finally broached the subject, telling Nesta how you felt and that you would talk to them. Of course this conversation came mere weeks before Starfall. Just in time for them to get back in your good graces to go to the party at the River House.

It’s been days since your conversation with your friends. “It went well,” you said joyfully as you strolled along the bridge above the Sidra, hand-in-hand with Nesta. “That’s good.” Nesta said, not fully believing either of your words.

The two of you chatted about any and everything as you explored town. Passing by a restaurant’s patio seating you hear familiar laughter that has you stopping dead in your tracks. Nesta didn’t need to ask you who it was. She knew and she was fuming.

Looking down at you she felt her face heat with anger. Your lips turned down in a small, heartbreaking frown, defeat clouding your eyes. “I asked if we could hang out today.” Your voice came out small. That was Nesta’s breaking point.

Dropping your hand she smoothed down the bodice of her dress to her skirt, taking a long inhale and letting out a long exhale. She turns to face you, gently holding your shoulders. “Why don’t you go into that shop over there,” she points over your shoulder, “and pick out something you want.” Nesta smiles at you softly. You don’t have it in you to argue. Your friends deserved whatever tongue lashing Nesta would give them and you weren’t going to stop your girlfriend.

Nesta stomped over to the table of females, casting a dark shadow as she stared down her nose at them. Those silver flames burning bright in her gray eyes. They all stopped to look at her. The scent of their on her tongue. It was no secret they were never comfortable around the oldest Archeron. Which made Nesta’s job here easier.

“You are the most wretched group of females I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. At least some of the fae here are honest about getting into Rhysand’s good graces but you. You lot just lie and use y/n. She is the last person who deserves to be used. Now I could point out other flaws you all have but that would include me standing here and speaking to you longer than you should have the privilege of. Stay away from y/n, my sister, and the High Lord. Or I won’t be so nice next time.”

Before they could have a reaction Nesta briskly turned on her heel and walked away. Entering the shop she sent you to she found you lurking by a clothing rack by the front window. You immediately ran to her, hugging her tightly around her middle and burying your face in her chest. “Thank you.” You mumble against her.

Nesta squeezed you tighter to her, kissing the top of your head. “Of course my love.” You stayed like that for a few more moments before Nesta spoke again. “I’m interviewing all future friends.” You let out a small laugh in answer. “Deal. But on one condition.” You lean away and meet her curious gaze. “You’re my only best friend.” Nesta pecked your lips, holding your face in her hands. “Always and forever, my love.”

[hxlda-hxlda]

sunday morning snippet!! it's 12AM so it counts for sunday!!

“My mum would have a fit,” Sirius said sort out of nowhere. 

He was listening, he was. But then his mind had half-drifted off, thinking of conversations at dinner tables where he was forced to wear the dress robes with the too-tight collars and well, okay, maybe Sirius had lost track of all of the words a little while ago. 

Remus stopped reading aloud immediately, looking up. “What?” he asked, lacking his usual irritation when interrupted. 

Remus wore a rarely open expression. One that drove Sirius to continue, saying something he otherwise might not have. Maybe if the sun was in a different position or if it was a Wednesday instead of a Saturday, or maybe if it was James instead of Remus, or maybe if it was two o’clock in the afternoon instead of five o’clock. Maybe if any single thing had been different Sirius might not have continued the thought, which pressed at his ribs with a steady ache — a bruise begging to be pressed. 

“Queers, poofs, whatever.” Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “My mother would throw a fit knowing we’re reading a novel by one of them.” 

Remus’ face remained as blank as ever, if not for the slight crease in his forehead. 

“She thinks they’re about as bad as mudbloods,” said Sirius, getting to his point after a bit more time had passed. That was about all there was to his point, but it felt significant for some reason. His heart was thundering loudly in his ears. Sirius wondered vaguely if Remus could hear it with his freaky hearing, then realised he probably could. 

“What about you?” Remus asked quickly, watching Sirius intensely. 

Sirius found looking at Remus to worsen the state of his rapidly beating heart as nervousness, or something, worked its way up his throat. Sirius swallowed, finding Lupin’s gaze too intense. He preferred the sight of his already half-picked thumbnail. He scraped at his thumb a bit more, swallowing again. 

“Well, y’know, I don’t think mudbloods are all that bad. Evans is alright when she takes the quill out of her arse for three seconds, I guess.” 

Sirius heard a snort of laughter that helped him relax his shoulders some. He continued speaking to his torn thumbnail.

“So… how right could she be about the rest of it, y’know what I mean?” Sirius said it quickly, as though it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to tell. It felt like a secret, in some odd way. 

He was met with a silence that immediately made his heart lurch again. He forced himself to glance up, just enough to catch Remus’ eyes. Shockingly, Sirius found that they’d softened. They were far less intense, and even the crease between his eyebrows had disappeared. He was looking all, well, soft. It was a funny sort of look for Remus, Sirius thought. It suited him, yes, but not in the way his usual stoicism did. 

“What?” Sirius asked after a while, feeling sheepish under the prolonged eye contact. 

“Nothin’,” Remus replied immediately. 

“No, no, what?” Sirius shuffled closer on the couch cushions, so close their knees were centermetres from touching. “You have to tell me now. You know how I get when you keep all your little secrets.” 

Remus huffed. “Insufferable,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“Exactly! Insufferable.” 

“This is classic manipulation, you know, threatening poor behaviour like this?” 

Sirius shrugged, quirking a smile. “Yes, well, I did have to learn some things from my mother, didn’t I?” 

Remus shook his head again, pretending not to laugh in that way he did. “I was just thinking,” he said after a beat. 

“About?” 

“About how you’re brilliant.” 

Sirius’ throat immediately felt thick. “What?” 

“Dunno.” Remus somehow managed to avoid and catch Sirius’ eyes simultaneously. They were caramel in the afternoon sun, his favourite kind of sun for Remus’ eyes. “Just… dunno how someone so awful made you. And– and you’re so good.” 

Sirius blinked rapidly, swallowing once then twice then a third time to try and rid himself of the lump in his throat. His cheeks burned, his throat, his eyes. He ducked his head. 

“Oh,” he said stupidly. And then, “You’re not so bad yourself, Lupin,” he coughed out, having to first compose himself enough to do so. 

“Shove off.” 

“Go on,” Sirius said, wiping at his eyes as surreptitiously as he could manage. “Read more of the book written by the poof. Maybe I’ll write a report for good ol’ Walburga.”

tagged by my abosolute darling @fiddleleafedfig ! it's a bit longer than a snippet, but i was scrolling through my docs for something and stumbled upon it. it was too cute not to use.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.