#fingers crossed for no whammies

[twothpaste]

standing before the artfight mods when they drag me to court like "are these AU designs not different enough from the original canon characters, your honor?? they are twenty years old. lucas is a large piece of lumber instead of a playmobil. porky minch is wearing a nine inch nails t-shirt, i promise he doesn't do that in the video game but you can play earthbound and check if you want to. look, you can draw kumatora as a bobcat who smokes pot"

[after-witch]

Bonded [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Title: Bonded [Platonic Yandere L x Sister Reader]

Synopsis: Being L 's younger sibling sucks.

Word count: 1700ish

notes: platonic yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, L is an asshole; reader is a younger (adult) sibling

“Why do you have to go away? You just got back.”

L doesn’t answer. He scrapes his thumb across his lip and continues typing, clicking, mesmerized by whatever new assignment has been sent his way. 

It was always like this. It seemed that anytime your brother got back, he was sent out again. Always needed, always being pulled by a million different people in directions you couldn’t even fathom. And you were here, at Whammy’s, stuck and lonely and increasingly pissed off.

You suck in your cheeks, gnawing lightly on the inside of your mouth, taking in a bit from behind your lips, a bit on the side of your cheek. Your teeth work the flesh over and over, not hurting, but pressing down.

 A familiar habit, ingrained from a young age, something that simultaneously soothes you without actually disappointing the growing frustration, anger, resentment in your belly. Maybe it doesn’t soothe you at all, you muse. Maybe it’s just a way to shut yourself up so you don’t say something you can’t take back.

“You’ll get blisters inside your cheeks again,” he says, glancing at you and looking away just as quickly. 

It’s nothing new for him to barely pay attention to you when he’s on assignment, and it’s nothing new for you to clamor for more of that attention.

Life was unfair and he was unfair, but you played into the bullshit anyway, because you didn’t know how else to live.

So you let your voice take on a muffled tone, annoyed, childish. You want him to tell you to stop acting like a kid. You want him to sigh and slam his laptop shut and ask you what’s wrong. You want him to just look at you, talk to you, damn it, for more than a few seconds. 

“So what?”

You cross your arms over your chest, playing the petulant child. It’s what you feel like--what you’ve always felt like--in his presence. Like some dumb little thing, stupider than him, smaller than him, less than him.

He doesn’t even look at you this time, his fingers flying on his keyboard, the clacking sound irritatingly familiar at this point. “They’ll sting when you eat food, and you hate gargling salt water to heal them, so I’ll have to make you do it.” He twists his mouth into something like a pout, but you can’t tell if it’s aimed at you or whatever he’s reading on the screen. 

“I’m not using salt water, even if I get blisters,” you say, jutting your chin outwards. You’ve been reading too many novels, clearly, and everything feels like it has a practiced air. You’re a player in a theatrical performance, and you can’t tell if L is the audience or a fellow actor or maybe he’s the director, cooling pulling the strings behind the curtain. 

He glances at you again, then resumes typing. “Then you can be grounded to your room for a week. No TV. No books.”

Your lips curl even further. “You can’t ground me. I’m an adult. You’re just being an assh--”

He does look at you this time, and it’s that stare that you know too well. The I’m-older-than-you stare, the I’m-in-charge-of-you stare. The stare that he gives when you ask to attend real university and not some in-house curriculum; the look that he gives you when you ask to move out of here, to get your own place, when you bring up the fact that you’re a grown-fucking-adult but you’ve never had any life experiences outside of motherfucking Whammy’s House and you’re losing your mind.

Your eyebrows furrow.  Your cheeks flush hot, shame rolling around in your gut. Then your arms uncross and you huff, throwing yourself backward on the bed, landing on your pillows. Two plush, soft things, a stark contrast to the uniform firm pillows normally issued at Whammy’s.

L hated those pillows, and so did you, and it was one of the first things he secured for you once it was clear that the two of you were going to stay. That, you tell yourself, is a sign that he cares about you. 

But it doesn’t make you feel any better right now. 

“Don’t breathe so loud,” L says, suddenly, voice lilting enough to eat away at your resentments. “Please. You’ll distract me.”

You resist the urge, only barely, to throw a pillow at his head. 

--

Later that night, L puts away the computer and the phone. He murmurs something to someone in the hallway before slinking into your bedroom, watching as you finish your nighttime routine, peeling back the covers and crawling into them.

You look at him. He doesn’t make to leave, like he sometimes does, when he’s too busy.

He raises an eyebrow.

You open the covers, and say nothing more. 

In a few moments, he crawls into bed. 

Familiar warmth, familiar smells, familiar touch. You nestle yourself in the crook of his arm, automatically. You do this, even if you’re mad. Or especially when you’re mad, sometimes.

“The nest,” you used to call it, when he was young and you were younger. A safe place you could go when everything was overwhelming and the world was too cold and dark, and the only thing that made you feel at home was your brother’s arms. 

Back when it was mostly just you and him. No legions of would-be successors, wanna-bes,  hangers-on, vying for scraps of his attention. No stony-faced men in suits letting you know that he wouldn’t be returning home (if this could be called “home,” and you certainly wouldn’t call it that) for another few months and no, he couldn’t call, but they’ll pass on your message. No eccentrics with monikers of N and M and every letter under the sun making you wonder what would happen if you L did die, where would you be, who would you turn to? 

Back when he felt like your big brother, and nights like this--in the same room or the same bed, falling asleep together, words murmured until you fell asleep, always before him--were the norm. And not the rarity that they are now. 

And truth be told, it still makes you feel safe to be nestled there. That’s what really hurts the most. It would be better, easier, if you hated him. If you resented him so much that you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Instead, you’re like a moth beating its wings senseless against a light that only sometimes turns on. Useless and pointless but at least, sometimes, once in every fucking while, you got what you wanted. 

“L?” You ask, your voice partially muffled from your position curled next to him. You’re sleepy, but you know he won’t be. He sleeps even less than he used to, and that’s saying something. 

“Mm?” 

It takes so, so much of you to ask him this point blank. You wonder if he knows this, that being so candid is like stripping yourself bare in front of the entire world. Which he might as well be, for you. 

“Will you take me with you, this time?” Your fingers curl tightly on his shirt. “I hate being here by myself.”

He breathes out a quick little snort, enough to rustle your hair. His arm tightens around you. 

“How can you hate being here by yourself, when you’re not by yourself? There’s--”

You know he’s about to list every single damn person at this stupid facility. You know them all, and you hate them all. Well… most. 

(You could, if pressed, admit that Matt was tolerable in medium doses. But you’d never admit that to your brother, for reasons you couldn’t quite articulate. Sometimes you imagine the look on his face if you were to tell him that you hung out with Matt, actually, and he seemed--what? Nice? Funny? Interesting?) 

Your fingers tighten further. Tears choke your throat. 

“You know what I mean,” you whisper, tight, pained. 

You’re not so different from the others at Whammy’s, you know. They crave his attention more than anything and God help you, so do you. A look, a glance, a shared memory. Something to remind you that you’re alive and he’s your brother and you’re together, by blood and everything else. 

Yet it’s always there--

The push and the pull. 

Wanting to be near him and wanting to get away, break out, smash down the box you’re kept in and make a life for yourself. A life where you’re not “L’s sister.” A life where whispers don’t follow you in the halls, where expectations aren’t simmering in the air, heavy and unwanted. 

Where you don’t feel like your big brother is some unknowable figure, always out of reach, yet unwilling to either pull you entirely into himself or let you free. 

Sometimes you wonder… what kind of life could you have without L? He’s all you’ve ever known. There is not a single memory in existence in which he has not been a part of it. If he did let you leave, if you did get the nerve to make some great daring escape, what would become of you?

Maybe you were nothing without him, without those whispers, without the pedestal that you’re forced to stare up at whenever you think about him. 

The thought makes you want to wretch.

He hums, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You were clenching his shirt so hard that your fingers ache, and you flex them.

“Well?” You ask, voice dull.

You know he’s not going to take you with him before he speaks. Quiet tears slip down  your cheeks, and you feel dumb. But he doesn’t tease you for them, at least. There’s that.

“Maybe next time,” he says, and pats your back. Time to get to bed. He barely slept, but that didn’t mean he would let you stay up late. Or watch too much TV. Or leave Whammy’s for somewhere new. 

Disappointment weighs you down, but then, doesn’t it always? You swallow the prickles in your throat. 

“Then just… don’t be gone a long time, okay?” 

You sigh, letting yourself relax back into his arms. Into the nest. Into some remnant of childhood where you felt comfortable and safe. You push away all thoughts of leaving, of resentments, of the fact that your life is only something like fulfilled when your brother designs to visit. You stay there until you fall asleep, dreams gray and bleary, disconnected thoughts that are rarely worth remembering. 

Against your hair, L smiles. 

[ultfreakme]

I saw a lot of people saying Higurama should've been there in the double page spread instead of Junpei where Yuuji is recalling people who had a lot of impact on him. The argument being, Yuuji knew Junpei for one day whereas he knew Higurama for a month. As a Junpei girlie in the year of our lord 2024, that makes me biased but I want to tackle this properly and explain why Junpei was there instead of anyone else.

Yuuji's ideas on the value of life and death

Yuuji was not randomly reminiscing about people who died. It was these characters for very specific reasons and this is attached to the dialogue bubbles. These bubbles express his previous assumptions, and what he learned from them.

It starts with Yuuji's grandpa, Wasuke- his memory is attached to Yuuji thinking people have assigned roles. Wasuke was the first to give Yuuji a role. He enrolls as a Jujutsu Sorcerer because Wasuke told him to save people and Yuuji thought if he fulfilled this role, he'd have a good death.

The 'good death' is then linked to Junpei. Prior to meeting Junpei, Yuuji placed an emphasis on people dying "good deaths". This meant respectable and moral deaths where peoples lives were not tampered with. With Junpei, Yuuji failed at saving him (what Wasuke asked of him), and at giving him a proper death (the thing Yuuji wanted to give as a bare minimum). This was a double whammy where Yuuji properly understood the kind of world he has entered.

Then we transition to Yuuji realizing there is no such thing as "good death". Todo in Shibuya had pointed out to Yuuji that he keeps thinking about the meaning and logic to death so much he's disrespecting those who did die. This post here by @linkspooky (hello, sorry for tagging you, you don't need to read this mess, I just wanted to cite and link to your theories because they were fun to read) has a big section about how Yuuji sees things in terms of 'story' and 'roles'. Therefore for him, 'death' must have some significance too and he tries to assign meaning to Junpei's death as a coping mechanism.

But this ENTIRELY falls apart because one death? Yeah he can assign meaning to one guy, but everyone he knew and treasured were falling like flies. What significance could he give to Nanami and Nobara's death, who were also killed by Mahito? What of Shibuya? Yuuji heard Todo saying "don't dwell on the death of others, that would be trivializing their life and what they were, and don't drag yourself down" to further enforce his ideology of himself playing a "role".

Yes, Nanami and Nobara died meaninglessly, but Yuuji blamed his inability to perform his 'role' right in this 'system'. He dug deeper into the mentality of being one small part of this big thing and diminished his own significance to nothing.

BUT.

In 265, Yuuji has realized that is not the case and he says that over Nanami and Nobara. These two characters arguably had the most mundane dreams and reasons for being sorcerers. Nanami dreamed of a peaceful life and got back to sorcery to do something useful he didn't think a corporate job could provide- he felt himself to be contributing more to making lives better by being a sorcerer but ultimately he wanted to just, be happy.

While Yuuji sees being a sorcerer as being a 'hero' and as a somewhat noble profession about saving lives, Nobara DID NOT. For her, this is a 9-5 job. She took this on because it paid, she was good at it, and gave her the freedom to be herself. Over Nobara, we see Yuuji saying "just walking your dog and raising your family are also decent roles" (fingers crossed the translation is fine). Nobara wanted to go shopping, dress nice, explore the city of Tokyo, be independent and free of scrutiny. These aren't particularly lofty goals like "save everyone" but Yuuji didn't realize how much value these goals have until now. Her dying words were "it wasn't too bad" which probably made no fucking sense to Yuuji because she died young, horribly, needlessly. How could it be "not too bad" when she didn't get to do much at all?

He was so fixated on giving meaning to death and fulfilling some higher purpose he forgot that little things matter and these people are independent and unique individuals. That's when we see Choso, who lived and died because he simply loved his brothers, nothing about saving the world or anything. Yuuji's final statement that small fragments of memory and happiness gives value is said over Gojo. Gojo who's been the center of fucking everything. Gojo who is the strongest and most powerful. Gojo who's been assigned the lynchpin of sorcerer society and whose mere birth caused upheaval in the strength of sorcerers and cursed spirits. Yuuji realizes he remembers Gojo not for his power or his death but for the little moments they shared together.

Junpei's there, because he was the first person whose death he somehow tried to justify in his head. He was kinda making it about himself instead of seeing Junpei as an independent person. Linkspooky also made a great post about how Yuuji didn't really try to listen to Junpei as a person. He saw him as someone to be saved, or someone to be stopped until the last few minutes. All of these people he is remembering are people who taught him a vital lesson the first time around and were a huge turning point.

Higurama absolved Yuuji of his guilt and told him he shouldn't blame himself, and that is very significant, but Yuuji isn't talking about himself in this scene. He is talking about his changed perspective on the value of ALL life. These people he's thinking about have made him reconsider his perspective on his role with respect to others, which is why it's Junpei instead of Higurama.

Span of Time

Junpei and Yuuji knew each other for a day, two days if you're being generous. He shouldn't matter so much.

Aside from the trauma of seeing someone you conversed with and seemed to get along with die a horrible death while asking "why?" (ah i believe this might be where Yuuji started trying to give meaning to death), time doesn't really matter in terms of impact.

Geto and Gojo knew Riko for about 4 days, but Riko's death was Geto's tipping point into entering his corruption arc. Geto and Gojo knew each other properly for about two years. The remaining ten were spent not having seen each other at all (based on canon, I am all for them meeting up in secret in headcanons). But for Gojo, Geto is still someone very important. ChosoYuki knew each other for a couple of days too.

I think bringing up how time passes in real life is kind of useless in fiction. Practically speaking, Gojo should've then moved on from Geto a long, long time ago and his feelings about him should have diminished. Gojo also should've managed to get past his issues about Toji but he clearly still has some trauma and issues related to him. Yuuji knew all these people for about 4-6 months yet he is so traumatized by all of their deaths. It's less about "how long did they know each other?" and more about the narrative relevance of these characters in their life. After Sukuna, Mahito was Yuuji's biggest villain, and this was setup USING Junpei.

Similarly, though Riko and Haibara weren't really present in the manga for long, they served to highlight the exploitative nature of sorcerer society.

I know people like to mock Gege and the general fandom is already very weirdly hateful of Junpei, but Gege is very good at conveying meaning and themes through his characters. It was Junpei for a reason. JJK is a story that makes you, as a reader, introspect about things. I think this dismissal of Junpei, calling Megumi 'useless' and the general atmosphere where there's an emphasis on power rather than anything else is a really fruitless way of consuming JJK and I hope people learn to curiously ask why a writing decision has been taken, instead of coming at it with own assumptions and priorities.

[somebluemelodies]

SPIDERBIT WEEK hosted by @smallchaoscryptid !! day six: coffee | nautical IM FINALLY BACK !! i know mer au won my poll from a while back so this is kinda a double whammy? spiderbit week AND poll fic :D

For a while, Roier wonders if he’s ever gonna see the deepsea mer ever again. When he doesn’t see him the night after their initial meeting, he’s worried that the Feds may have gotten to the mer after all, and it pains him more than he cares to admit aloud.

But it’s not the last time. In fact, it happens multiple times, to the point where they have a weird schedule of sorts to meet every third day or so.

Communicating isn’t the easiest, with only Roier able to actually talk, but they make do, and he’s getting a real good hold of asking ‘yes or no’ questions or anything else that permits him to learn more about the deepsea mer.

Except for one thing. The mer’s name.

The mer can understand nearly everything Roier says, but he can’t write it. He can only write in his own strange mer-tongue, which is a series of characters that sends the pirate into a deeper confusion the more he tries to make sense of it.

For a little while, Roier contemplates giving the merman a name himself, but that feels a little unfair to the mer. He has a name, after all.

However, his mouth running faster than his mind produces a nickname, gatinho, as a result of staring at the mer for a little too long and getting lost in his eyes. Thankfully, though, the mer doesn’t seem to mind it, and Roier even swears it makes the creature blush. But that sounds like crazy talk, so he tries not to dwell on it.

Nevertheless, the nickname stays. If only because it’s… well… the truth.

(Mostly. He’s a mer, not a cat. Scales and no legs, not fur and four legs.)

(But God, if he isn’t the prettiest being Roier has ever seen.)

A couple weeks or so after their first initial meeting, Roier is sitting on the flattest rock closest to the water, the mer half out of the water in front of him with his arms resting on the rock. A routine, of sorts. Either here, or the cave.

“So, gatinho,” the pirate starts. “I need to figure out your name. We have to find some way. Because I can’t keep calling you gatinho forever.”

(But he’d certainly like to.)

The deepsea mer tilts his head slightly and shrugs, as if to say, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“What? You like the name, huh?”

A pause, followed by a slow nod. Roier grins. “No mames, wey, this guy likes being called pretty. Like a cat. Are you sure you’re not a cat? I think you’re a cat in disguise.”

The mer looks borderline offended, trying to reach over and slap him. But the pirate pushes back, out of reach, smile growing with a laugh. “You’re swatting like a cat! Holy shit, man, I was right. I’m friends with a fucking cat. A catfish. No mames.”

There’s a growl of sorts from the merman, who definitely looks like he’s blushing now - focus, focus, focus, stop looking at him like that - and shoots up out of the water before Roier has a chance to properly react.

Next thing he knows, he’s flat on his back against the rock, and there’s a solid weight on top of him, two almost-glowing blue eyes staring him down.

(A small part of Roier wonders if he should be afraid right now. He’s seen the sharp teeth and fingers. This mer could theoretically kill him in a heartbeat. Right here, right now.)

(But he’s not afraid, God only knows why. No, he’s… no, no. Enough.)

Roier tries to mask the way his cheeks are rapidly warming up with an accomplished, shit-eating laugh. “Calma, gatinho, calma.”

The deepsea mer huffs, shaking his head before a small smile crosses his face despite himself. He leans down to really shove Roier’s shoulder, but makes no effort yet to get off.

(Not that Roier minds.)

More laughter, and then a lull, and their eyes meet again. Roier becomes acutely aware of just how close they actually are. The mer is staring at him in a way he can’t quite decipher, and it makes him increasingly nervous.

(A look of wonder. Awe.)

(The mer sees the same exact look in those dark eyes.)

The pirate tries to play it off, like his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest and like his thoughts aren’t circling around the fact that if he sits up enough, their lips could brush. Connect. “See something you like, gatinho?”

The mer also seems to finally realize their current position, and with wide eyes, pushes himself off and all but dives back into the water. Roier kicks himself in the ass for mourning the loss of contact.

For a few moments, as the merman doesn’t surface, he wonders if he’s fled for the night, and starts to feel a little guilty for his teasing.

But then there’s movement, and he watches the deepsea mer breach the surface again, blowing out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.”

The mer shakes his head. It’s okay.

(He did see something he liked.)

"Roier!"

The pirate's head whips around, seeing a silhouette in the far distance.

"Oh, shit-- that's Jaiden. I gotta go." He turns back to the mer. "Three days? And I will learn your name, gatinho."

The deepsea mer nods, and three things happen in succession.

One. The mer leaves him a piece of sea glass, a red one.

Two. He hesitates, then hoists himself onto the rock to press a kiss to Roier's cheek.

Three. He dives back into the water without looking back, disappearing in a fleeting glint of deep emerald and leaving Roier to touch his cheek in surprise.

"Roier!" Jaiden calls again, running over to him. "There you are! What're you doing out here?"

Roier clears his throat, willing his cheeks to cool down despite the darkness surrounding them. His best friend was eerily observant sometimes. "I was just... collecting sea glass. See? Look at this piece I found!" He picks up the piece, standing up to show her.

Jaiden looks at it before back to him, her brow quirking ever-so-slightly. "O...kay? Since when do you do that?"

"It's given me something to do recently."

She studies him another moment, trying to decipher the truth. If she doesn't believe him, she doesn't say it. Instead, she says, "fair. But I came to bring you back to the ship, c'mon."

They walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, until she speaks up again. "Y'know, I haven't seen much sea glass around here. You must have some awfully good luck; I see the little pile on the box beside your hammock."

Roier opens his hand, looking at the translucent red treasure as icy eyes infiltrate his mind, the ghost of lips warming his cheek. "Sí. Something like that."

[angelicyouth]

Youth ; Chapter 3

⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker

⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞

⇢ warning: descriptions of a panic attack

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

A cacophony of voices fight to be heard over the other, everyone shit talking around the game of Mario Kart that’s currently set up in our living room. The boys and I watch as the four players duke it out on the big screen, witnesses to a friendship-breaking competition.

Loud stomping abruptly interrupts the taunts, “Y/N! What the hell? Is that my fucking shirt that you’re wearing?” My brother violently hollers from his spot, standing halfway down the stairs to peer down at the rest of us.

“The one you’ve been looking for all morning? Yup.” I lazily drawl from my spot on the couch, obnoxiously popping the “p” in my reply. My head slightly shifts as Tweek attempts to neatly braid my hair, Butters gently coaching him from the side.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? Made me waste a bunch of time looking for nothing.” Stan continues as he finishes his journey down the stairs.

“You act like you have better things to do, loser. No girlfriend, no job—nada. So I don’t see what the big deal is. Are you on your period or something?” An accidental sharp tug makes me wince, Tweek muttering apologies as he quickly kisses the top of my head in repentance for his mistake.

“Shut up! Quit stealing my shit!” He's standing off to the side of the couch now, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed.

I glare at Stan and say around a mouthful of orange chicken at the top of my lungs. “Quit stealing my weed then!”

”God, you’re such a fucking pothead!” He shouts, fists clenching in anger.

”Says the alcoholic who starts his day with a shot!” It’s a low blow but all I can see is red.

“Bro, quit being a whiny bitch. You’re not dirt poor like Kinny. Just buy a new one.” Said blonde flashes Cartman his middle finger so he rolls his eyes and attempts to correct himself. “What? Fine, at least you weren’t born ginger and a Jew like Kahl. Talk about a double whammy, I’d honestly kill myself.”

”You don’t need a reason to kill yourself, Cartman. Make all of us happy for once and just do it. If you really need a reason, just think about how fat you are and how much wasted space you take up.”

”Aye!”

The match concludes with Jimmy coming out on top and the boys deciding to abandon the game entirely. They resume eating the Chinese takeout that’s laid out on the coffee table in front of them and half-heartedly listen to the sibling’s routine bickering.

“Take it off.” He scoffs at me, face heated with anger. Tolkien rolls his eyes so hard that I’m surprised a headache doesn’t occur.

“Huh?”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’re stupid, not deaf. Want me to ask mom to get you hearing aids? I said: take. It. Off.” Comes out of my brother’s gritted teeth, each word growing more impatient and strained.

“Big deal, Stan! There’s so many other fucking shirts in this house. Feel free to get one from my closet if you need one so bad.” I retort in exasperation, clenching the denim on Tweeks legs that lay on either side of my body in frustration.

“Ack!” The frenzied blond yelps from behind me and I let go, fiddling with the creases on his jeans instead.

“No! Didn’t you hear me, r-tard? It’s mine, I bought it. Now, take it off!” Kyle closes his eyes at the elder Marsh’s words, tired beyond his years.

“Able to throw some money away for a dumb shirt but you can’t even pay me back my hundred dollars.” The local space enthusiast mumbles to himself, a chorus of ‘shut up, Craig!’ resounds from the boys in Team Stan.

“Fine!” I smirk and get off from my perch on the couch, a sly yet very bold idea pops up into my head. The perfect little thing to piss my dear older brother off. If you want petty, I’ll give you petty.

I grab my shirt from the hem and start to slowly lift it off of my frame, quirking a smug eyebrow and taunting my brother with a smile when more skin starts to show.

“Woohoo!” Kenny hollers excitedly at me, his hands in the air.

“F-f-fuck! No! Quit it, will you?! Don’t fucking do that!” Stan pushes those in his way aside and the boys make it hard for him on purpose by sticking out their legs to trip him. My brother scrambles over to me, forcing my hands down.

“Aw. What’s wrong, Stanley? You’re starting to sound a lot like Jimmy, how cute. I thought you wanted your stupid shirt?” I jeer at him. It’s like what Bebe always says: boys never know what they want and that’s the problem with them. Amen, sister.

“Ewww, Marsh. No one wants to see your underdeveloped body.” Craig socks Cartman on the arm, hard and the larger teen squeals like a dying pig.

“Don’t listen to them, sexy! Keep on going!” Clyde joins in laughing, sliding off his jacket and twirling it over his head in support of the apparent stripping going on.

“You’re voluptuous! Curvaceous! I’m already down on my knees at the sight of you, sweet thang!” Clyde continues to exaggeratedly hype me up, comically imitating the sound of a barking dog afterwards.

“I don’t know how you guys can take her seriously when her hair’s only halfway done. Looks like a damn hippie.” Cartman mumbles, more focused on inhaling his food and rubbing his now sore arm.

“Pffft, b-buh-baby Marsh gone w-wild!” Kung pao chicken accompanies Jimmy’s words of encouragement and he grabs one of his arm crutches, twirling it above his head too. My hands are still at the hem of my shirt, lifted up slightly and exposing a sliver of skin, even when my brother lets go.

I turn my head and catch Craig’s eyes trailing down as he smirks at me, his eyebrows lifted up playfully. A glint in his deep blues as he nonchalantly says, “I wouldn’t mind.”

While I’d normally giggle in amusement at the normally stoic teen and the contribution towards further riling my brother up, my face immediately flushes red after my talk with the girls at the party. I’d say that butterflies are invading my stomach, struggling to break free but it honestly feels like a whole damn zoo down there.

Feeling the adrenaline rush from my brother’s anger, the boys egging me on, and Craig’s attention, my heart beats at record breaking speed and I can feel my cheeks shyly heat up. This development doesn’t go by unnoticed as Kenny stops his playful cheering and laughing, watching the interaction between us two with furrowed brows.

“Fuck off, Tucker. Actually, fuck both of you all the way to hell.” My brother grumbles, angrily throwing himself onto an unoccupied space on the couch with his arms crossed. “It’s the fucking principle of things.”

“Big word, Stanley. Is that your word of the day? Did you learn it from this week’s episode of Sesame Street?” I mock him with a pout in fake sympathy.

“Shut the fuck up before I kick your fucking teeth in!” My brother’s stupid face goes red with anger.

He pouts when Kyle holds him back and rolls his eyes, ever the voice of reason. “They were just joking, Stan.”

“Yeah, Stanley. I was just joking.” My eyes continue to follow Craig as he lifts a bite of food towards his handsome face, wooden chopsticks pressed against his still smirking plush lips.

“Craig.” My brother says sharply this time, straightening up his back to glare at the teen over Cartman’s bigass head. I’m slightly confused as to what’s happening but still loving the attention Craig is giving me.

“Relax, Marsh.” Craig chuckles with a challenging look in his eyes. Tension begins to grow in the room and I’m lost because the other guys would normally laugh at suave shit like that and instigate a fight.

I roll my eyes and figure that it’s just them being overly protective, going back to my spot in between the cute coffee addict’s legs so that he can finish his attempt at doing my hair. Butters has a small braid done in between tufts of silky blonde from when I demonstrated the process to Tweek. He rubs his knuckles together, nervous energy exuding from his body as I return next to him.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The girls excitedly informed me of tryouts and the process, which involves practice with the already established team and the new potential recruits. A week and a half is given to learn a few cheers before the day they hold the official tryouts, which was today. It’s here where I finally meet Nichole Daniels, Tolkien’s girlfriend. It would’ve been nice if he brought her over from time to time but I can understand his vehement refusal of bringing her anywhere near a number of dumb boys. Trouble seems to follow the guys wherever they go.

As promised to the parentals, I attended and it’s not as bad as I thought it would be with the friends I’ve already made being here. I’ve never had problems with dancing as it comes easy to me so it’s nice to just hang out and bask in the feminine energy.

My parent’s request has continued to go under the radar as the boys have been busy with the football season starting. Their practice allows me to not have to think of an excuse for staying out late since they’re already busy, extracurricular activities taking up their time after school as they prepare for the season.

I shove the heavy front doors of the school open, the sun almost fully set as a gradient of red, yellow, and orange bathe me in their hues. The girls always remember to offer me a ride home from their parents but I always politely reject, my guilt not allowing any of them to go out of their way and use their gas on me.

My hands are shoved into my pockets, trying to accumulate as much heat as possible while I begin the journey home. Wisps of fleeting, misty clouds escape from my mouth after each puff of breath I let out and I watch them disappear. I bask in the rare moment of solitude and the quiet that comes with it.

I’m colder than I normally would be tonight because a freshman accidentally spilled her gatorade onto the duffel bag that I’ve been using for cheer. Not only were the sweats that I usually throw on over my shorts drenched in sticky sweetness, but the clothes I wore to school earlier were also an unlucky casualty to the liquid electrolytes.

I wonder if I’ll make the cheer team, I ponder to myself.

The rhythmic sound of my steps on the concrete sidewalk accompany me on my walk and I hum to myself until I hear sharp, rambunctious laughter. I’m startled as my head shoots up and see that across from me in the distance are a group of boisterous, older teens. Fear resounds within me when I faintly remember them terrorizing my brother and friends when they were in the fourth grade, them having been in the sixth at the time.

I pray in my head that they don’t notice me but my prayers go unanswered as they cross the street, now joining me on the same sidewalk. I know I can’t outrun them so I panic and impulsively decide to take a detour, turning right into an alleyway until I dreadfully notice that I can still hear them from behind. What was once just the sound of obnoxious laughter is now the noise of thundering footsteps following closely, beginning to get louder and louder.

My feet hastily pick up their pace and I can feel the tremors reverberate through my now sweating hands, anxiety filling me to the very core. My trembling makes the process of pulling out my phone agonizingly slow and I silently curse at my misfortune.

The white puffs of air that once brought me entertainment on my walk now serve as a reminder of the danger I’m in. Unlike before, they come out of my mouth in quick intervals and I clench my teeth to bid them away.

Out of nowhere, someone roughly yanks on my ponytail and they’re quick to cut off my yelp as a rough hand forces itself onto my mouth. The assailant painfully holds onto my other arm, both grips enforcing excruciating pain.

“Hey, I recognize you. You go to our school, always around those dumb boys.” One of the perpetrators in front of me sneers as he brings his face up to mine, his rancid breath invading my senses and making me feel even sicker than before.  

“Lucky, aren’t we? We got baby Marsh!” Their eyes lighten up in both delight and recognition. I can feel upcoming bile trying to force its way up my throat from hearing the term of endearment the boys call me used like this, the connotation eerie in this situation.

Trying to make a sound is futile as all my cries for help are muffled, my captor getting annoyed at my squirming and relocating his hold on my arm to my neck instead. He squeezes and I whimper in fear, my breathing becomes more desperate when my kicking and elbows do nothing to deter him.

“Why’re you crying? You’re just asking for it when you walk around in fucking shorts. We live in South Park. No one would dress that way outside in the snow if they weren’t a total slut.” They all degradingly mock me, laughter resounding throughout the cold air as foreign fingers begin to play along the edge of my shorts.

“Pffft, dumb bitch.” One of them slaps me just because they have the power to do so in my vulnerable state before squeezing both of my cheeks together with one hand, hard.

���Who wants to go first?” They all fight over the answer to the question and I clench my eyes shut in dread, the color draining from my face.

Before they can do anything, yelling can be heard and I’m dropped by my captor. I stumble to the dirty ground of the alleyway at the loss of my previous support. On the floor, I painfully dig my nails onto my thighs. My breath hitches and my chest tightens, my panicking intensifying despite finally being free.

Short breaths rake through my trembling body and my nails dig deeper. Crescent moons appear on soft skin, invoking blood. My head starts to feel a little light and I try my hardest to calm myself down but it’s to no avail, my attempts prove to be futile. My unoccupied hand trembles as they reach up to touch wet, stinging cheeks. I didn’t even notice that I‘ve begun to sob as every gasp for air racks my body.

“Holy shit.” Varying voices can be heard from around me but my mind barely registers their words as my head continues to feel even lighter than before.

Even though I’m unable to determine whether or not I’m safe, I don’t flinch when someone crouches next to me and hastily crushes me against their hard chest. I’m numb to my surroundings and everything feels distorted. It’s as if I’m underwater, drowning.

“Ack! She’s hyperventilating! Gyah!”

“No fucking shit captain obvious!”

“Shut the fuck up!” The chest I’m against rumbles and my brain finally registers it as the sound of Kenny’s voice. I muster up what little strength I have to look up and see my boys around me. My brother is directly crouched in front of me and from my peripherals, I can just barely see that it’s Kyle in the same position next to him, eyes wide in panic.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“Fuck! What should we do?!” It’s Tolkien this time but I can’t look away from my brother. My eyes are begging him to do something, anything to make it stop. Oh how I wish twin telepathy were real.

“Breathe, baby. You need to breathe for me.” The world tilts around me as a soothing voice near my ear urges. A resounding gasp of air struggles to be inhaled but it’s too shaky and tears of frustration continue to fall. My breathing isn’t slowing and I just want this to be over.

“Someone needs to do something before her heart gives out!” Someone loudly kicks what sounds to be a trash can in anger, messily spilling its contents all over the floor and I flinch at the blow.

“Y/N, breathe.” Stan coaches me, taking my hand and placing it on his chest. His large hand encompasses my smaller one, exerting slight pressure until I can feel his heartbeat.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice and follow me. In, and out. In, and out. I’m here. You see me, right? You’re here with me at this very moment and you’re safe. You’re always safe with me. Big brothers always got you, yeah?”

I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t.

I’ve been trying and nothing is happening.

It won’t stop and I can’t fucking breathe.

I don’t want to disappoint everyone but I’m tired.

“Shh, shh. You can, love, you can. I know you can.” Kenny patiently encourages me as he gently brushes strands of my hair away from my sticky, tear-stained cheeks. Heavily disoriented, I didn’t seem to realize that I was verbalizing all of my thoughts.

“You know why? Because my girl is the absolute best—the best girl ever and everyone who's anybody knows that. She’s resilient and just so, so strong. As long as she tries her best, I’ll always be proud of her no matter what and nothing she can do will ever disappoint me. Literally, nothing. She could put a bullet through my head and I’d just pass away in euphoria because my last living memory is of a goddess with ethereal beauty.” Kenny continues and ever so slightly, a corner of my lip lifts up.

This is familiar. This is comforting. I know this. The playful flirting and cheesy, over the top exaggeration. His soothing voice helps guide me back down to Earth as I focus on the rising chest of my brother under my fingertips. This is familiar, too. It’s a sound I’ve always known, even before I was born. Whenever I’m feeling sad or scared, my big brother will always hug me to his chest, my ear pressed against the faint beating of his heart. The rhythmic sound let’s me know that I’m safe, I always am when he’s here. This sound is the other half of me.

“Good girl, you’re doing great. Really great. You always do great and I knew you would.” It’s the voice near my ear again and this time, I’m finally able to look away from my brother to see that the voice belongs to Craig. It appears he had a hand on my shoulder throughout the whole ordeal, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over my jacket.

I now notice that Butters has my other hand firmly in his, tears streaking down both his and Clyde’s faces. They all must have found me after practice and I’m thankful that I wasn’t too far from the school before everything went down.

When they ask me what I was doing out so late, in athletic shorts no less, I mumble an excuse about the girls inviting me to workout in the weight room back at school. They don’t know that it’s not just today that I’ve been trekking home alone at night and I don't want to correct their assumption when they sternly lecture me on how dangerous it is.

After taking me home and getting myself cleaned up, they decide on an impromptu movie night filled with blankets, pillows, and snacks. Last minute texts are sent to their parents, notifying them of an emergency sleepover. They place me in the middle, a cocoon of softness, warmth, and comfort. They let me choose all the movies for the rest of the night and the food we order for delivery.

Our faces are colored a pale green from the clay mask I put on everyone, those with longer hair having mini palm trees at the top of their head from being tied up away from their faces.

Self care, they told me.

This isn’t edible so don’t try to lick it off your face, I told Cartman.

I slowly look around and take in the bright light of the television reflecting off of their individual faces. Some people, like Tolkien and Kyle, are starting to nod off, fighting the last dredges of sleep for my sake. On the other end of the spectrum, Butters and Clyde jump at every loud sound that accompanies the suspenseful music, paranoia painting their faces white. Tweek catches my eye and gently feeds me a kernel of popcorn.

Surrounded by my boys, I smile knowing I’m safe whenever I’m with them.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

I’m sitting in front of my vanity, carefully applying some makeup to cover the faint bruising on my cheek, the process therapeutic. The occasional clicking of buttons could be heard, Craig lounging on my bed with a handheld gaming console in his hands. I softly mouth along to the words of the low music playing from my phone while faint laughter can be heard from downstairs.

I chance a glance up and catch Craig’s reflection from the corner of my eyes, but I don’t turn my head around as we make eye contact through the mirror. My lips unconsciously quirk up, fondness of the boy behind me fills my entire being from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. “Hmm? What’s up, Tucker?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a thoughtful look adorning his attractive features. Ever since the night the boys found me, I’ve been catching their lingering gazes on me from time to time. Eyes distant, as if they’re looking past me.

I settle both of my elbows onto the tabletop, my hands carefully framing both of my cheeks lest I smudge my hard work. My smile doesn’t falter, never when I’m with him, and I lightheartedly tease him, “What? Never seen a good looking Marsh before? I know you’re around my brother all the time but he's not that ugly.”

I’m successful in getting a reaction from him because I’m soon rewarded with a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, his expression softening, “Come here.”

His deep voice is firm, filling my room with its gentle demand and I blindly obey. With Craig, I’d do just about anything for him. He’s now seated upright and has positioned himself at the edge of my bed, legs open and his thumb tapping a beat onto his thigh.

When I’m close enough, the boy grabs both of my hands, interlocking our fingers together. He gives the intertwined digits a swift, reassuring squeeze before guiding me to him to close the short distance between us. I stand in between his legs and he elicits sudden goosebumps along my arms as he carefully drags his long fingers down the length of it, slowly before finding purchase at my hips.

I instinctively loop my arms around his neck, bringing us closer together and he gently squeezes in response. He murmurs so quietly, “Are you okay?”

I softly reply, my thumbs rubbing soothing circles onto the back of his neck, catching strands of smooth black hair. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Our voices are hushed. There’s no need to be quiet but it feels like we’re in a bubble and at any disruption, no matter how slight, might pop it.

“Yeah… You know I’m always here for you, right?” I softly nod in response, a slight shift in this space of intimacy we’ve created.

“You know you have me, right?” Again, I nod as I hang onto his words.

“Because I’d do anything for you, Y/N. It doesn’t matter what it is—big or small. At the asscrack of dawn or in the middle of the night. I'd drop whatever I was doing if it meant getting to you when you need me.” His long fingers reach up to lightly smooth his thumb at the area where soft skin meets makeup.

“If you ever have any doubts or feel upset about anything, just talk to me, okay? And I promise that I’ll do whatever I can to erase those doubts and remind you of how much you mean to me. I don’t ever want you to feel alone or less of anything, not when you mean everything to me.” The ravenette continues as he moves his hand, this time tucking silky strands of hair away from my face and behind my ear.

I shyly giggle in bliss at his soft touch and even lighter voice. “Where is this coming from, Craig?”

He ignores my question, persistent to convey his message to me. “You do know that, right, Y/N?”

“Of course, I’ve never doubted it or thought otherwise.”

“Good.” The teen says, satiated before bringing us down onto the bed.

My hands lay themselves against his chest to keep myself upright and he caresses my head with both hands, angling my head down to give my forehead a soft kiss. His lips lingers before pulling away.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

It wasn’t hard for the girls to see the slight traces of lingering purple under my attempted camouflage. I tried to reassure them that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine, yet they persisted in trying to make up for it due to the guilt they all felt.

I had just finished applying my daily cover up and was adding the final touches to my hair, making sure that every single strand was in place. Satisfied, I turn the brightness of my computer screen back up until the reflection of myself on the glass disappears. I had time before I was due to head out so I loosely curled every lock cascading down my shoulders, braids adorning either side of my head. The girls wanted to take me out later in the day as an otherwise unnecessary apology and I hummed to myself in excitement.

“Wow, doll. Is this all for me?” I look up from the boss battle I was currently engaged in, pausing to identify the intruder that let out a low whistle.

Kenny leans off from his laidback position on my door frame and lazily walks up behind me, the end of his lips quirked up. He gives me an appreciative hum as he takes his time scanning my appearance, indulging his eyes on my figure. I patiently smile at his appreciation.

“Ah, scratch that. That was a stupid question, you’re beautiful every single day to anyone who lays their eyes on you. You don’t even need to try so I meant to say that this is a welcomed treat.” I turn around in my seat to face him, giggling at his words of praise. I greedily drink them in as I loop my arms around his waist.

“Beautiful?” I seek more of his validation, a deepening blush rising on my cheeks as I parrot back his compliment.

He takes a small section of my hair and gently guides his hand to his face, kissing the soft locks in his possession. He hums to me, “Beautiful, bewitching, alluring… You’re every synonym and every iteration of the word, babe. You define beautiful, you’re the very embodiment of it. That word was created because of you—if I were to look under the definition of it, your name would be there.”

My smile grows wider and my cheeks start to hurt from the action, resulted by the constant influx of euphoria that the blonde never fails to provide me. Whether from being drunk on the male’s compliments or shyness, the color red has made its permanent residence onto my cheeks.

He lets go of my hair and gently cups his large hands on either side of my face, angling it up towards his taller figure.

“Pretty.” He quietly utters to my skin, kissing my forehead.

“Gorgeous.” A kiss to my nose this time.

“Irresistible.” A kiss to my left cheek.

“Ravishing.” A firmer kiss to my right cheek with a playful growl, melodic laughter gets pulled out of me.

“Lovely.” He says much softer this time, watching me with gentle eyes. He keeps his devoted gaze onto my visage, his thumb lightly goes over my lips once. “Everything a guy could ever ask for in a person. Everything that I could ever want in life. If I could have one wish, it’d be you.”

My eyes flicker between bright azure orbs, the air between us charged. Before I can say anything, the sound of muffled yelling from my brother’s room startles us. I hastily look away embarrassed, the moment between us broken.

“Can I make you pretty, too?” I flash him a toothy grin and he playfully rolls his eyes, seeking refuge onto my bed. That’s all the answer I need before I push at his shoulders to guide his back down before I settle myself onto his lower stomach, giggling with an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a makeup brush in the other.

Washing flecks of glittery white over his eyelids, I bring my face closer to his and take the time to study the teen under me while his eyes are closed. His slender hands find purchase at my hips and I find myself mesmerized at the mini constellations that adorn his handsome face. Albeit not many, every freckle looks like a tiny star, accentuating the blonde’s mesmerizing features.

I lean in closer to get a better look as I carefully paint a streak of black, a steady hand making a line. I inspect my latest stroke when his hand gently grabs the wrist of the hand I have hovering over his face, the same one holding my eyeliner brush. His eyes slowly open as to not disturb my art, our faces close to one another. Kenny showcases his boyish smile, flashing me with deep dimples at the lack of space between us and my eyes inadvertently lower, seeking plush lips.

“Haven’t you noticed that yeah, the boys are overprotective over you. But when it comes to Kenny and Craig, it’s different?”

Fuck.

[neotrances]

Keke got sole custody of her baby and a temporary restraining order against him 😌 now we pray for him to get jumped or locked up

i hope it becomes a permanent restraining order and he gets jail time let’s go for a double whammy fingers crossed!

[catierambles]

Summoned Ch.5

Pairing: Demon!Syverson x Bethany Stewart (OFC)

WC 1262

Warnings: demon smut Minors DNI 18+ ONLY

@brattymum96 , @ouroboros113 , @peaches1958 , @summersong69 , @eldarwen333 , @omgkatinka , @identity2212 , @lucypaulette , @km-ffluv , @kebabgirl67 , @squeezyvalkyrie , @rebelangel1102 , @geralts-yenn , @sophiejay , @sycochick , @myaimlessuniverse , @dopegardensaladhuman

They lay together in bed, Bethany pressed against his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I can't believe I just did that." She said, burying her face in his chest. "I just had sex with a demon."

"Yep." Syverson said and rolled them over so he was above her, looking down at her with eyes sparkling with mischief. "Demon cock made you come." He leaned down, pressing his lips between her eyes. "Again." The tip of her nose. "And again." Her closed eyelids. "And again." He pressed his lips to hers and she arched up into him, holding his face between her palms as she responded to him. "And you were beautiful each and every time."

"Question for you."

"Shoot." He said, looking down at her softly.

"What did you do to him? David." She said, "There was a lot of screaming."

"Two things. I showed him my true form, and I showed him what his endgame was." Syverson said and she nodded.

"And that made him run out to confess?"

"I also told him that if he confessed it might lessen his sentence. Repentance and all that."

"Will it?"

"No." He said with a snort, "He confessed thinking he was saving his own hide, not to spare the pain of other people. Self-serving repentance doesn't mean dick."

"Oh." Bethany said, scowling slightly and he kissed between her eyes again, smoothing the furrow. "What was worse for him? Seeing your true form, or knowing what was awaiting him?"

"Probably seein' what his punishment is going to be. My true form was just a double whammy." Syverson said and she nodded.

"Can I see it?" She asked and his brows jumped in surprise.

"You want to see my true form?"

"Is that okay?"

"I've just never had anyone ask before." Sy said.

"Is it bad?" Bethany asked and he shrugged.

"Bad is a matter of perspective." He said, "Seein' a demon's true form has driven humans insane before, not all, but some. Their brains can't handle what they're seein' and they break."

"They're also not supposed to be able to understand the demonic language, but I was able to."

"True." He said and thought for a moment. "You really want to." She nodded and he sighed.

"Okay." He said and moved to get out of bed. "Ya don't need to see it up close and personal." She spared a moment to appreciate his backside as he got out of bed and he turned to face her. Bethany rolled over onto her side, propping her head up in her hand and looking him over slowly. "Doll, you keep lookin' at me like that and I will not be responsible for my actions." That made her giggle slightly and he sighed.

The change was gradual, probably for her benefit. His skin darkened, becoming a deep ashen gray, scales like armor appearing on his chest, shoulders, and thighs, what wasn't covered having almost a snakeskin pattern. Glowing, red-hot cracks branched up from his hands and high into his forearms, his fingers ending in wicked claws that glowed like molten metal. His blue eyes were gone, replaced by eyes that glowed just as brightly as his claws, fissures spreading from the corners. His face was more angular, cheekbones and jawline slightly more defined, but she still recognized him as him. There were no horns like she had been expecting, no wings or forked tail.

"Doll?" He asked and she realized she had been staring. Getting out of bed, she went to him, standing in front of him and looking him over. He stood very still, as if afraid of what she was going to do, nevermind she was standing in front of him as bare as her nameday. Looking up at him, she pressed her hands against his chest, hearing his breath catch in his throat, and raised herself on her toes slightly, crossing the gap between them and pressing her lips to his. They were still unbelievably soft and plush and she felt his hands come around her waist as his eyes closed, leaning into her kiss. His hands went to the backs of her thighs as he pulled her against him, letting her feel him against her stomach. He was larger in this form, thicker, and that was saying something.

"Bastron." She whispered and his breath caught again. Picking her up, he took her back to bed, laying her on the blankets and moving over her. Leaning down, he kissed her, feeling as she pressed up into him, her hands going to his waist. His stomach muscles clenched as one of her hands slid around to his front and his breath hitched as she took him in her palm, stroking him slowly.

"Fuck." He sighed, a shudder racing down his spine. "You're somethin' special, doll. You know that?" He slid a hand between her legs as she pumped her palm lazily, moving his fingers through her folds and circling her clit, being careful of his claws. Her breathing started to quicken after a while and she grew slick under his fingertips. "You want me, doll? You want me like this?"

"Uh huh." She said, nodding, and she squeezed him gently, forcing a growl up his throat. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips before he moved off the bed, going to his knees and pulling her to the edge. Parting her legs to fit his shoulders, his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he looked at her.

"So pretty." He whispered and buried his mouth between her legs, licking and sucking at her with fervor. He swirled his tongue around her, through her, pressing it flat against her and dragging it up slowly, pulling her clit between his lips and sucking gently.

"Sy." She sighed, her hand going to his head. "That feels so good." With the claws, he dared not push his fingers into her, so his tongue would have to do. Standing, he took himself in his hand, running the head through her folds and wetting himself with her. "You're so big." Pressing against her entrance, he slid into her slowly, letting her stretch to fit him before starting a steady sway of his hips.

"Fuckin' hell, babe." He said, leaning over her and pumping between her thighs. "You're so fuckin' tight."

"Fuck me, Sy. Please, I want you to."

"Yeah? You want me to fuck this tight pussy? Make it mine?" His head went back briefly, pleasure shivering up his spine at the feel of her sliding over him. "You take my cock so well, babe. Look at us." She looked between them, watching him pump into her and the sight brought a whole new rush of warmth between her legs making her moan. "Bethany, fuck."

"Bastron…" She reached up, holding his cheeks and pulling him down into a kiss, making small noises against his lips every time he buried himself in her. "I'm gonna--"

"Are you gonna come?" He asked and she nodded. "Come on my cock, show me how good I make you feel." Her legs wrapped around his waist as he continued pumping into her and soon she cried out, arching into him as her inner muscles clamped down on him in waves. "Yes, that's it, let go." His hips slowed, swaying into her gently before he buried himself in her completely, looking down at her with soft eyes.

"You didn't--I mean, I didn't feel you--"

"Oh, babe." He said, the glow of his eyes flashing briefly. "I'm not done with you yet."

[novankenn]

2am (Chp 12)

UPCOMING WHAMMY WARNING!!!

--== Table of Contents ==--

Jaune was walking Az over to his sister Saphron’s for an overnight stay. IN his pocket, his brand-new prescription for Sertraline, which of course meant he was going to need to talk with Cinder about his eligibility to compete. Az walked beside him, happily swinging his arm as they closed in upon Saphron and Terra’s home.

“You seem really happy.” Jaune commented, “That because you’ll be able to stay up late, and have sweets… that I know Adrian sneaks you?”

“No… maybe… but it’s more!” Az replied.

“More, huh? And what is this more?”

“Mommy.” Az replied without hesitation, which instantly made Jaune’s heart clench. He hid his reaction behind a well school dad face, but it was still there. He free hand slid into the pocket of his hooded jacket and squeezed the pill bottle nestled inside.

“Mommy?” Jaune had to school his voice from sounding sad and angry. “And what has mommy done, that’s making you so happy?”

“She’s feeling better, and soon she’ll come back!”

“Are you sure…”

“Yes!” Az shouted, yanking her hand free of Jaune’s and fixing a rather adorable angry look upon him. “You said mommy loves us, and she was sad to have to stay away… but now she’s better, which mean she doesn’t need to stay away!”

“Yes, mommy love you…”

“Us!” Az snapped, as he poked her father in the stomach with a single finger. “Mommy loves us, and that means she can come live with us and… and we can be a real family like my friends Rose an and Willow!”

“Maybe…” Jaune replied, unable to dash his pride and joy’s happiness. “We’ll see, okay?”

Az crossed her arms and fixed her father an ineffectual angry stare. Jaune reached out with his hand.

“We have to get going… Auntie Saph and Terra are expecting you, as is Adrian.”

Azalea took her father’s hand and the pair continued on the path to their destination.

/=/

About a quarter of an hour later, Jaune was standing before the door of an apartment, that he was intimately familiar with the inside of. He knocked, instead of using his key, and waited. After a short wait, the door swung inward, and the reason Jaune was before him. A worried look on her face.

“Jaune, why didn’t you use your key?”

“I just… couldn’t… I just couldn’t.” Jaune replied.

“Well come on, get in here, you look like you need to talk.”

“I do.”

Reese Chloris had answered the door in nothing but an oversized “Golden Boy” tee, and Jaune could visualize a snugly fitting pair of boy shorts underneath. Jaune gave a weak smile as he entered, being forced to turn sideways to slide past her in the narrow entry-way. Kicking off his sneakers, he headed into the living room, and dropped into the couch, as Reese closed and locked the door.

“So, what’s going on, Jaune?” Reese asked as she moved and took a seat beside him, her legs pulled up so she was sitting sideways facing him.

“I just needed…”

“Jaune don't lie to me.” Reese fixed Jaune with a concerned and slightly annoyed glare. ‘We’ve been together for two years… I know when you’re upset and trying to deflect… so spill.”

“Az and I ran into Pyrrha after the last event, and…” Jaune sighed. “Az is so excited to see her, I’ve never seen that happy in these last few years… but”

“But?”

“She seems to have her heart set on Pyrrha, myself and her becoming a family… and part of me… the part that can’t let her go…”

[agirlandherquill]

the calendar project - day 23,24,25

triple whammy because i forgot to post yesterday's double lot before watching logan in preparation for deadpool 3 whoops (was so worth it though, both movies were INSANE, and i also watched despicable me an hour after dead pool 3 ended - been a very fun day)

daily page count: 1 (day 23), 1 (day 24), 1 (day 25)

here's the pages,

“Then it would be a very, very sick joke if they have.” She propped herself up on her knees, examining the lock, the door chilled her cheek as she pressed her face against it, peering in to get a glimpse of the mechanism. There was nothing but darkness.

“I’m doubtless asking the wrong person but you wouldn’t happen to have a hair pin would you?”

Reid crouched beside her, frowning. “Why ask if you know what a stupid question that is?”

“I wondered if you ever needed to pin back that hair of yours. It must be inconvenient.” She reached into the hidden pocket of her dress and teased her own hair pin free from the scrap of material she kept them attached too, in case of needing one. She pressed it carefully into the lock, then looked at Reid. “Would you? It needs enough force to knock the key free.”

“So they did lock us in!”

“Why?” 

“When I get out of here I’m going to find out.” He growled under his breath and slammed the bottom part of his palm against her pin, she heard something give then the key dropped on the other side of the door with a heavy thud. She laid down, trying to push her fingers beneath the gap of the door to reach it but she wasn’t able to. 

“What is it now?”

“I can’t reach.”

“Move.” He eased himself to the floor.

“If I can’t reach it what are you going to do?”

“You’ll see.”

“I’d rather be out of here than watch you do whatever it is that you’re going to do and fail miserably.” She hugged her knees, watching him feel around the floor. Have I been trapped in here with a mad man? Is that what this is?

“Do I need to worry about being in here with you Reid?”

He scoffed, pressing his fingers into the flagstone closest to the middle of the door. “No, but you should be thankful that I’m me.” He slammed his hand onto the flagstone, it tilted up and she heard something slide, and the key appeared under the door. She snatched it up before Reid could and pushed it into the lock, giving it a harsh twist. The door opened and they both sprung to their feet.

“Get me out of here.” She pushed Reid out of the way and ran to the courtyard, stumbling as she came out into the soft, startling light of the rising dawn.

The other doors were more visible now, they were all different colours - the one she stepped out of was a dark shade of blue, the one that led back to the Church was a faded grey, the other two were green and black. 

She went to the green door first. Now’s my best chance to explore before anything serious starts. And I’d rather not see Reid question his people - that’s a line no newcomer should have to cross. 

The door opened into a lengthy corridor full of many smaller rooms, she assumed they were small from the frequency of the plain wooden doors, but none of them interested her. Her focus was pulled to a large sliding wooden door down the corridor. What could be behind this? She gripped one end of the door and pushed against it, it slid along the rails on the wall, giving her enough space to step through.

She took one step forward then recoiled as something sharp grazed against her elbow. Was that a knife? 

She shielded herself with the door, thinking it through. Why would someone attack me with a knife? And why haven’t they come out?

Isolde realised then, what she would have to do.

I’m going in.

The knife came at her again. This time she was ready for it. She ducked down and let it fly over her, then a calloused hand seized her arm and hauled her forward, using her arm to pin her against a torso, keeping her trapped with the knife. 

She took one breath, then two, then tilted her head back to see her attacker.

“You?”

“Mornin’ to you too.”

“I don’t even know your name and you’re attacking me with knives!”

“Callan. Better?”

“No.” She drove her heel into the instep of his boot. He grunted but did not let go. “Not quite the reaction I was expecting, but not bad.”

“If you’re going to drag me out because you don’t want me here, can you get on with it? I’d rather make it back to the castle before breakfast.”

“And you wouldn’t put up a fight?” He looked curiously amused.

“No.” 

He smiled, then started to twist her arm, angling her shoulder back. He’s testing me, to see if I’ll fight him. I won’t. I told him I won’t. The twisting became a sting in the joint of her shoulder, her back arched, but he kept on. Testing, testing, testing. Not going to happen. She was not going to fight him. She had no interest in fighting him. Which left her with an infuriating alternative.

Whimpering.

Callan released her in an instant, disappointment marring his features. “Forgive me. I thought… I was wrong.” He tucked his knife into its sheath at his waist, his cloak was long gone, he was now wearing a simple shirt and trousers. He rubbed his face. “I was wrong for last night too. Will you accept my sincerest apology?”

Callan surprised her. He’s apologising, he seems genuinely guilty - excusing the way he acted last night… He seems nice. Nicer than Reid. She smiled at him. “Consider yourself duly forgiven. Now, will you tell me what you were thinking?”

He winced. “I wanted to see what you would do, I thought perhaps you were a spy, an assassin, something like that - Reid didn’t tell me who you were and I wanted to see for myself.”

“I’m nothing like that.” She reached to touch her shoulder, the ache became more apparent with her stretching so she gave up, letting her hand drop.

“She’s most certainly not, but Cal, did you have to try and dislocate her shoulder?” Reid’s questionable drawl made her eyes dart to the door. He was leaning in the gap she had made, not even bothering to shoulder it open further. “No, but if she’s going to work with us she ought to know things.” He flashed her an apologetic smile.

“Things such as defending herself?” Reid’s stare was disapproving. She stood straighter against the weight of it. “You’re right. She should.”

“She, knows enough.” Isolde stared him down, irritated by his refusal to speak as though she was in there with them. I don’t even know where I am or what this room is, but I’ll be damned if I break this stare first.

“I think our definitions of enough beg to differ.” Reid broke the stare, nodding toward Callan, it made her scoff. “I’m not being trained by either of you cave animals thank you very much.” She stepped toward Reid but Callan held out a hand, stopping her. “Let him see what he can do, it can’t hurt to be safe, can it?”

He’s the voice of logic here then. I envy him. “Fine.”

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Ok...two things. First, how the HELL are these hobbits not developing a complex about sleeping after they have TWICE been magically knocked out and almost murdered to death??? Second...Fatty Lumpkin, Tolkien? Seriously? This and more as we keep on with this reread and talk chapter 8, "Fog on the Barrow-Downs".

So we open this chapter with Tom and Goldberry seeing the hobbits off, and Goldberry literally stands them on top of a hill and POINTS OUT where they need to go. They have to cross the Barrow-Downs, that's just life, and fair enough. Frodo's even optimistic about it, saying "If we make as good going this afternoon as we have done this morning, we shall have left the Downs before the Sun sets...." It seems like they're off to a good start and going on fine. But they're hobbits, so bring on the atmospheric change and vaguely threatening landscape, I suppose. Tolkien gives us (and his hobbits) this little scene next:

In the midst of it there stood a single stone, standing tall under the sun above, and at this hour casting no shadow. It was shapeless and yet significant: like a landmark, or a guarding finger, or more like a warning.

So...we have a big-ass, presumably ancient stone that is giving off warning vibes. That's a whole thing, but we're dealing with hobbits here, so they promptly forget Tom Bombadil's warning to not fuck around with old stone at the end of the last chapter and have lunch with the freaking thing. And then, being hobbits, they promptly fall asleep beneath the giant threatening stone that was somehow weirdly cool at high noon. Tolkien kind of hand waves this, saying,

Riding over hills, and eating their fill, the warm sun and the scent of turf, lying a little too long, stretching out their legs and looking at the sky above their noses: these things are, perhaps, enough to explain what happened.

The "perhaps" in that sentence is doing a LOT of heavy lifting, and it is enough to introduce doubt about whether or not that actually WAS enough to explain what happened. My money is on no, no it is not enough to explain what happened, given all the hype and fear the Barrow-Downs have gotten in the preceding chapters, especially since the hobbits had childhood horror stories about them. You do not then just...casually oopsie poopsie your way into an unexpected nap in the land of Barrow Wights unless something else was going on. That's my crack theory, anyway, and it is very much why I'm over here wondering why these hobbits haven't developed a complex where they don't feel safe sleeping out anywhere, because we are now in "fool me twice, shame on me" territory.

The hole in my theory that there was barrow magic here is possibly Sam, since he went down just as easy as the other hobbits here. That said though...where Old Man Willow was concerned, Sam had extra levels in gardening, so maybe that gave him an edge there that he doesn't have with the Barrow Wights. Either way, I'm still more inclined to say magic than lazy.

There's a lot of HELLA GOOD atmospheric writing in the next little bit with the mist and the fear and the unexpected party split. Other than the excellent atmosphere though, I kind of don't have a lot to go over until Frodo actively encounters the Barrow Wight, where we get a couple of really interesting little character beats that I suspect are doing quite a lot of setup for later.

Frodo stands his ground outside the barrow, to the point where the Wight has to actually yoink his ass inside because whatever its come hither whammy was wasn't working. That ability to simply stand in the face of magic and terror is impressive in and of itself; Frodo isn't swayed easily and he isn't one to run from danger thoughtlessly.

In the barrow, Frodo doesn't freeze either; his fight or flight kicks in. That instinct has a weird interaction with what we are told is hobbit nature and the ring. Hobbits will apparently go full badass motherfucker if pushed to the extreme edge (supported by that time they burned half a forest down to protect the Shire). But Frodo is also holding the One Ring, so there is an instinct that I have to assume is influenced by said Ring to put it on and get the hell out of there. Frodo almost talks himself into bailing and abandoning Sam, Merry, and Pippin--hell, he gets so far down that line of thinking that we get "Gandalf would admit that there had been nothing else he could do," which I have to imagine is PATENTLY false.

But then the hobbit resilience wins out, as does the power of friendship, and Frodo gets his ass together enough to chop the hand off a creepy-ass disembodied arm (and just...just for a sec...can we be FUCKING HORRIFIED that Tom Bombadil is going to stomp this mofo like a goddamn spider in a few pages? Because goddamn John Ronald, that's grisly, creepy, and deeply fucked up all at once). Then Frodo pulls a Bombadil ex Machina and Tom pulls the hobbits' bacon out of the fire before escorting them out of the Barrow-Downs and pointing them at Bree and the Prancing Pony.

Real quick though, I just need to take a sidebar here to address Fatty Lumpkin. WHY ARE WE FAT-SHAMING TOM'S MAGICAL PONY??? Literally, what did this pony ever do but be helpful to Tom and friendly with the hobbits' ponies? Like...he's fine. Leave him the hell alone. He is a majestic chonky boi, and shall be respected as such!!! (I get that this was the first half of the twentieth century and conventions were different. Still not giving this a pass.)

At the end of the chapter, we also get another of what I'm coming to recognize as a goddamn pattern of foreshadowing in this boo. Frodo reminds everyone that he is SUPER NOT TO BE ADDRESSED AS BAGGINS. He is Mr. Underhill if a name must be given, so clearly someone--lookin' at you, Pips--is going to blow it in Bree. Which will be super fun.

We also have a recurrence of fear of the Ring Wraiths, which has been missing for a couple of chapters now, because apparently they don't fuck with Tom Bombadil and they...IDK, have some weird treaty with the Barrow Wights where they don't mess around in each other's territories? Wraiths and Wights don't get along, I guess? Literally it's a good thing for Middle Earth that the different flavors of evil in the world aren't super interested in collaborating, or else the Wraiths could have waltzed in for tea with the Wights, gotten the ring, and our hobbitses would be dead.

I also forgot to mention the weirdness that was Merry waking up from the Wight kidnapping. This gets pretty glossed over, but uhh...it's pretty clear that Merry, Pippin, and Sam were replacing some historical figures lost to time? Who are important to the Barrow-Downs? And they got access to their...memories? Like, I realize that exploring that further would grind the plot to a goddamn halt and there are enough digressions and bunny trails in the book already (this chapter is literally one of them), but I am SO CURIOUS about what Merry, Pippin, and Sam experienced while under the spell of the Barrow Wights. Like, this has to be where Robert Jordan pulled Mat's memories of a hundred great generals thing from, because that's just a little too on the nose and a great exploration of this objectively throwaway line and idea.

I think we'll leave it there for now, because honestly other than the excellent atmospheric writing, little bit of character development for Frodo and a METRIC TON of unanswered questions, I didn't have a lot for this chapter and I'm excited to pick it up in Bree at the Prancing Pony.

[voxofthevoid]

Screaming about jjk, I know everyone has probably already pointed out the parallels between the train station scene and the airport scene visually, but I love how the whole situation parallels Gojo's death--Sukuna recovers RCT after doing some black flashes, thinks he's got it in the bag and gets whammied. I thought the go north/go south thing would come up again bc how could it not (and I know the fight is still ongoing, nothing is settled) but it would be hilarious if it was Sukuna and not Yuuta or Yuuji who ended up making the different choice. --Blackflash Chussy Anon

I'm eyeing those parallels with Great Interest myself, won't lie. There's the thematic potential of (empty) airports and train stations as liminal spaces, plus the literal and metaphorical choice they represent. It's tasty! And I'm growing more and more obsessed with the potential of Yuuji's domain being a station. I don't know what Gege's cooked, but if they've brought their A game (like they often do when Yuuji's involved), this should be incredible. Fingers crossed.

Same about wondering whether the north/south thing will pop up again. It doesn't seem relevant for Gojou anymore, if it ever was, but the concept itself seems like the kind of thing Gege would bring up several chapters after it's introduced.

I don't have any predictions as to whom it'll affect. Yuuta seems out of the running. I'd say the Gojou body thing is... enough transformation for him, y'know? Yuuji and Sukuna remain, and Sukuna is already posited as an existence almost beyond humanity, like Tengen, so let's see if that'll get pushed further. Yuuji's also a good candidate, given both his physical and psychological state as well as Kenjaku's frequently referenced desire to create something that spins out of their control.

I'm also curious if this domain will somehow lead to a Heian-era flashback. It's as good a setting as we'll get, from what I can tell so far.

[yourthoughtsjim]

True Feelings

Cisco Ramon x reader, afab/femme

A/N: Lisne, this fic got away from me man

Warnings: daddy kink, praise, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, breeding, use of "kitten", use of powers

Word count: 3.5k+

“You’re all clear! The scans look good.” Caitlin comments as she puts the brain scanner down. Earlier that day you had been whammied by Rainbow Raider, sending you into an absolute war path. Slowly, you went and apologized to everyone you had wronged that day. You made a special point to apologize to Cisco. The one who always had your back no matter what you said or did. 

You followed him to the Time Vault where Barry had sent him to get some information from Gideon.

“Hey, Cisco? I’m really sorry for the things I said today. I didn’t mean it. I swear.” You say in a shy tone. 

“Y/N, look, I understand that Rainbow Raider got you earlier but you don’t need to say sorry. We all say and do stupid shit when we’re pissed off. Harry is just one example of that.” Cisco responds. 

“I know, I just…” You trail off. Then he pushes off the desk he had been leaning on and makes his way towards your space. Grabbing one hand, he places it on his own.

“Listen, I have known you for a little over five years. I know everything about you. I know you would never mean anything like that.” He says in a soothing tone. 

You couldn't help but look into those big soft brown eyes. “I love you.” You absentmindedly state. It wasn’t until a few seconds later you had realized what you had said. A flush of red crosses your face. 

“Baby… it was finally time for you to admit it. I see the way you look at me. With all the love and adoration in your pretty eyes.” Cisco states. 

“I… Cisco…” You once again trail off. It didn’t take long for Cisco to press his lips against yours. His hands made their way to your hips. 

The embrace was long and passionate. You almost forgot how to breathe for a minute there. You then pull away from the kiss and make a small whimper. 

Cisco gently grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do anything for my little princesa.” He speaks in a deep tone. 

You melt into his touch. “I want you to make me feel good.” You say in a hushed tone.

A smirk crosses the meta’s face. “Sweetheart, you need to be more specific, tell Papi where you want him to make you feel good.” 

“O-On my clit.” You once again speak in a hushed tone. 

Cisco smirks. Then you feel his hand land on your stomach and slowly trail into your pants. Soon his fingers were tracing just around your clit, teasing you. 

You squirm to try to get direct contact but it’s no use. He was good with his hands. With being an engineer and whatnot. 

A sparkle of amusement entered his eyes as he watched you struggle. It was like he was playing with his own personal toy. Seeing how long it would take for you to break and beg for it. 

He also loved the way your brows furrowed in both annoyance and desperation. Cisco took note of the way your nose scrunched up and the way you bit your lip. 

His fingers were covered with your juices and it was all from him just teasing you. He couldn’t help but imagine the way you’d be dripping all of his cock. How pretty his cock would look with your juices on it.

You finally start to get frustrated “D-Daddy… want my clit to feel good. Wanna moan for you.” You plead.

“That’s not how you ask for things, princess.” He states as he continues to tease you.

With a hot face that ran red with embarrassment “Please rub my clit.” 

“That’s a good girl.” He says while finally paying direct attention to that bundle of nerves. The sensation made you trip backwards into the wall. 

Your back arched away from the braille like wall. That’s when one of the rubs felt too good. “Fuck! Cisco…” You moan.

“That’s it. God, you’re so wet. Soaked even. I wonder how often you get this way, thinking about me.” He states before he chuckles. You look at him and he has such a cocky smirk on his face. 

“A-All the time. I’ve thought about how you’d make me cum over and over again. I’ve thought about how you’d breed me.” 

“Oh, princess. You want your Daddy to breed you, huh? Well let’s get you nice and wet first.”

Cisco put more pressure on your already sore clit. Then an idea popped into his head. He’s always wanted to see just how much control of his powers he truly had. 

Gasping, you felt strong vibrations. “Oh my god! I-I didn’t know you could, fuck, do that.”

“Neither did I, but what better test subject than you, my pretty girl?” He rhetorically inquires. 

You begin to whine as he keeps up the pace. “Papi, gonna cum!” You squeal. 

“Go on, cum.” He commands. His voice was deeper than the soft tone you had been accustomed to.

You unravel on his hand. He kept rubbing you as you rode out your orgasm. “Good girl.” He comments as he stops and deactivates his powers. 

What you didn’t expect to happen next was Cisco getting on his knees in front you. On the way down, he completely removes your pants and panties. He licks his lips at the sight of your glistening cunt. The hunger for your taste overran his senses. 

Cisco then throws both of your legs over his shoulders, pinning you against the wall. It didn’t take long for him to harshly eat you out. It was like you were his own personal snack tray. He licked your slit up and down. The sounds coming from below sounded so lewd.

Then he spelled his name on your clit, he wanted you to remember who made you feel this good. 

You didn’t know the dorky movie referencing meta had this much experience. 

No one you had previously been with had this much skill.

Your hands tangled in that soft long hair of his that you loved so much. That action earned a smile you could feel against your pussy. 

“S-Shit. Cisco. Daddy.” Was the only thing you could manage to get out. Cisco was making you see stars. It was much better compared to the red you were seeing earlier. 

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked, hard. Your eyes flutter shut and you hang your head down. He looked up and saw your tongue out, panting. 

You couldn’t squirm away even if you wanted to. His strong arms kept you in place. 

“Please, please, please…”

He detached. “Please, what?” He asks before returning to assaulting your cunt with his mouth.

“Please, make me cum! Wanna cum! I’m so fucking close.” You scream.

It didn’t take him long to do that. Letting your second orgasm wash over you, he finally stands you up. You think you’re done but he pushes you to your knees. Before you could get your senses together, his cock was in your face. 

“Go on, suck your Daddy’s cock like a good little girl.” He commands. The normally soft and gentle Cisco you had known was long gone. It must have been the way you moaned his name and title that drove him to be rougher with you.

Feeling your warm mouth around his cock made him imagine how your pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around him. It made him twitch slightly in your mouth. Then you feel some precum drip into the back of your throat. 

You start off at a slow and gentle pace at first, trying to get adjusted to having something so big in your mouth. “Such a good fucking princess.” Cisco growls. 

The way he growled made your cunt clench around nothing. Then you feel hands in your hair. Cisco tangles his thick fingers in your strands. It was then he started fucking your face with force. 

The edges of your eyes filled with tears and Cisco took notice. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.” He calmly states.

Your own hands find their place on his thighs to give yourself some stability. You hummed around his cock, sending vibrations up his shaft. “Fuck, kitty, if you keep doing that, Daddy’ll cum down that pretty throat.” 

His words only encouraged you. You wanted to taste him just like he tasted you. 

“Shit…” He hisses through his teeth as he does what he said he was going to do. He came right down your throat. The warm liquid painted it.

Cisco pulls out of your mouth with a pop. You then show him you swallowed all of his cum. Not a single drop was left anywhere.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He comments pulling you up and into a kiss. You taste not only him but yourself on his tongue. 

The kiss lasted a while. The two of you were hot and sweaty but that didn’t stop either of you. Within seconds he had you pinned against the podium. “T-This is off, right? It won’t turn on?” You question as you pull back from the kiss. 

“If not, it’ll be one hell of a surprise for Barry when he looks over the video footage.” Cisco responds with a light chuckle.

The thought of, what essentially, your boss seeing you like this was an idea that you found more appealing than you’d care to admit.

Cisco took no time turning you around and bending you over. He crouches a bit, giving your slit a lick before standing back up. “You taste like heaven, mi amor.” He comments. 

Grabbing his cock by the base, he uses your juices as lube before he stuffs your tiny cunt. He groans when he bottoms out. “So fucking tight, even after I made you cum.” 

His hips meet yours with a force that you were certain would leave bruises. He leans down and gives your back a few kisses, his hair tickling you in the process. Your poor cunt was overstimulated at this point. Neither of you really cared, however.

“You’re such a good girl, letting Daddy fuck you like this. I can’t wait to do this every day.” 

“B-Belong to you now! I’m Daddy’s!” You shout.

“Of course, you do. You’re mine to do with what I please and what I want to do is make you feel so good, your legs shake.” He whispers in your ear.

Cisco snakes an arm through your arms and pins them there. Then he pulls you up, fucking you like that. This made you feel so much tighter on his cock. It also made it easier for him to hit your cervix.

You felt so unbelievably blissed out. “That’s it, my cock was made for you baby. Made to fuck you just like this.” He growls in your ear. 

It was then his other hand hovered over your clit where he let his powers activate again. This time you scream. Loud enough to echo throughout the Time Vault. 

“Papi! Feels so fucking good.”

“Oh, I know princess.”

After all these years, you hadn’t imagined that he would feel this good. The first day on the team, Cisco was the one that got your attention first. There was something that drew you to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain. 

Each day walking into S.T.A.R Labs was like torture when you had to watch him work. You did it often too, walking into his lab just to see what new gadget he was working on, imagining just how good he would be with his hands. It worsened when you found out he can play the guitar. 

Another thing that drove you crazy about him was his hair and how it was always so perfect. You had to stop yourself often from just reaching your hand out and touching it. 

You’re snapped back to the present when he thrusts particularly hard. It made you gasp. “S-Shit. Daddy. Gonna cum. Please.” You weakly state.

“Hold it.”

“I can’t, Daddy, I can’t.” You cry out.

“Go on then, but you better moan my fucking name when you do.” He commands.

And with his permission, you let yourself fall apart on his cock. “Cisco… fuck…” You groan.

Cisco wasn’t done with fucking you, though, he was still trying to find his high. Now he was fucking into you like he meant it. Your poor cervix was probably bruised at this point.

He didn’t let up on his powers either, if anything he only upped the ante. You were crying at this point. “Remember, Daddy’s got you, princess.” He reiterates his point from earlier by giving you a soft kiss on the neck. Deep down you wished he had bitten into you. Leaving his mark on you. 

Cisco finally lets your arms free and you fall forward. His powers deactivated, giving you some reprieve. 

You arch your back while holding onto the pillar in front of you. “How do you think Eobard would react to this? To me fucking you in the place he built?” He questions with a cocky tone.

“H-He’d hate it.”

He grins as his thrusts get faster. “He would. If Barry wasn’t the owner of this place, I’d leave my cum all over the place. I’ve thought about it before too.”

“N-No! Your cum belongs in me. I n-need you to breed me.” You scream out.

“What a cum hungry kitten you are.” 

“W-Wanna be your housewife. Want you to f-fuck me in t-the dining room.” 

“And you will. I’ll fuck you in every room.”

Cisco then takes a few more hard thrusts before spilling inside your abused cunt. The warm sticky liquid filled you to the brim. He must have been waiting for this day. 

He stills inside for a few seconds to catch his breath a bit. “Such a good kitten. Let Daddy make you feel even better.” 

Cisco pulls out and replaces his cock with his fingers. Fucking his cum into you. “We have to make sure it takes. Wanna turn you into a mommy.” He comments. 

“Mmm, Papi…” 

“That’s it, call me Papi, little one.”

He crooks his fingers just right to hit your g-spot, making you grind into his hand. The burn of your clit sent you wild. It was a good burn. Your head falls to the podium.

“Fuck, Daddy… make me cum again. Please I need to cum again. Wanna cum for you so many times. Wanna be a good kitty for Papi.”

“Oh, you already are. You became Papi’s good girl the moment you told me what you wanted.” 

Cisco quickened his pace along with twisting his fingers. This action made you grip the pillar for dear life. 

You couldn’t ask for permission to cum as another release washed over you without warning. “I d-didn’t ask. I’m sorry. It feels too good.” You plead with the meta.

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’ll just have to fuck you with his cock again as punishment. Give you another load of his cum. Let it overflow in this pretty little pussy.”

He was hard again. He couldn’t wait to get back in that warm hole. It was only moments before he was. His cock once again hitting your cervix.

“God, you’re taking me so fucking well. You’ve been waiting for this haven’t you?”

“Mhm!”

He wanted to see your face. He wanted to see your eyes glossed over in pure, unadulterated bliss. So, he takes his cock out and turns you around with ease. Then he puts one of your legs up against him. 

Cisco moves some of your hair out of your face before caressing it. “Such a pretty girl.” He pumps inside you on the final word. A little “O” shape formed on your mouth. “So cute.” He comments.

You couldn’t keep eye contact with him. Your head felt so heavy. Then he grabs your chin gently. “Come on, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Your vision was blurry from all of the stimulation he had put you through. “Daddy makes me feel good. Daddy takes care of me.” 

“Yes he does, princess. Daddy already knows your body.” He whispers close to your face. His hair obstructing any other place you could look. 

You kept squeezing your tight pussy around his cock. It was almost like you were trying to milk him for everything he had. 

“You just keep sucking me back in. The grip on your cunt so strong. You really wanted this, hm?” He teases.

All it took was that last taunt and you were pushed over the edge again. You had cum on his cock twice now. Twice on his fingers. 

“Cumming on my cock again? What a special little princess.” Cisco praises.

You had never felt euphoria quite like this before. Even in your fucked out state, you wanted to cum for him again.

“Think you can handle another?” He inquires.

“Yes, Papi.” You weakly answer.

“Good girl.”

He slams into you repeatedly, this time he circled your clit with his thumb. “Daddy, Daddy!” 

“Yes, kitten?”

“Good… feels good…” 

“I know sweetheart.”

He once again brings you to the brink of orgasm. With one last thrust, you two cum together. “Shit, kitten, Fuck” Cisco groans as he spills more of his cum inside you.

There wasn’t much time before you were bent over again. He had more cum to give you and you wanted it all.

He slams into you over and over again. Fucking his cum back in and trying to milk another load using your pussy. 

“That’s it, take it, take Daddy’s cock again. Gonna fill you up.” 

It was like he had turned into an animal at this point. Growling and getting rougher with each thrust. “Gonna breed this sweet cunt. You’ll be knocked up with my kid.”

“W-Wanna be! Wanna be knocked up!” You exclaim.

This time, his orgasm washed over him faster than the previous ones. The third load left you feeling so full. You swear you have a bulge from how much cum that had been stuffed in you. 

Cisco’s hand landed on your clit again. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it. I know you can. One last one is all Daddy wants.” He states rubbing your clit fast and hard.

“Ah! Daddy, fuck.” You whine. 

“That’s it, give it to me. Your pleasure is mine now. Every time you cum, it’s mine. Every time you touch yourself, it’s me touching you.” 

Your legs begin to shake as you near your sixth orgasm. It took everything in your power to stay standing up. 

He slows down, letting you come down from your high before removing his hand. “Good girl.” He comments, giving you a kiss on the lips.

“Are you okay?” His gentle and soft demeanor is back. 

You nod your head. You were more than okay. You were ecstatic that the man you’d worked with for the past five years had shown his true feelings about you.

He helps you get redressed. He pocketed your underwear though. “Pervert.” You jokingly comment. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He remarks.

The two of you looked around to make sure you didn’t leave anything behind, mainly Cisco’s cum, before you left.

Then you walk out hand in hand and head towards the cortex. The rest of the team was standing there. All of them had shocked looks on their faces. Barry’s being the most shocked.

“It’s about damn time.” Frost comments. She had been the only one who saw this coming. After all, she was the person that you were closest with during your time in Central City.

“You couldn’t have possibly seen this coming.” Iris states. 

“It’s not like she’s my roommate or anything. I hear her moaning Cisco’s name all the time.”

“Frost!” You exclaim.

“I mean, I’m not that shocked either.” Ralph follows up. “Although, I did expect it to happen earlier. Which means I’m out $50.” He rolls his eyes, pulling his wallet out. Then he took out the amount owed and passed it to Frost.

“You two made a bet?” Cisco asked.

“Well, yeah.” Frost states.

You look at each other and roll your eyes together. “I bet she sounded so pretty. Having hearing her whine and whimper through the walls had me considering fucking her myself.” 

“Frost, I swear to god.” You grit through your teeth with slight annoyance.

The idea of watching you and Frost together swam in Cisco’s head. “That would be hot. Maybe a different day.” He says.

Your face flushed a deep red. Almost akin to the shade of the Scarlet Speedster’s suit that Cisco built.

“Someone likes that idea.” Harry comments. 

“Har…” Barry shakes his head.

Harry then chuckles a bit.

“Well, we should let the new happy couple recoup from whatever happened in the Time Vault.” Iris states.

“How did you-” You’re cut off by Iris “That’s where Barry and I go most of the time. Either there or the STARchives.” 

“Oh my god…” Barry sounded exasperated. 

Then one by one over the next several minutes, each of the other members of Team Flash left S.T.A.R Labs. It left you and Cisco alone. 

“Wanna go to Jitters and then get something at Big Belly Burger?” Cisco asks.

You consider it for a second. “You’re buying.” 

“Of course, my little princesa deserves a reward for being so good.” He whispers in your ear before giving your head a kiss. 

The two of you head towards the elevator. When you arrive there, you hit the ground floor button. 

Turning around, both of you look forward before looking at each other with smiles as the door closes.

[storiesofsvu]

Second Chair Spark Ch 4

Warnings: Language, talk of assault, domestic violence mentioned. **Also note that for the sake of this story, Casey has the big fancy office with the fcking fireplace that Barba/Stone had, while Y/N has a smaller one like Casey had on the show.

**

Bobby D’amico’s arraignment had wrapped up the next morning, you were in your office buried in paperwork for the case while Novak took care of things at the courthouse. You heard a knock on the door, calling out for the person to come in, looking up from your work, finding Casey entering the room.

“How was arraignment?”

“Donnelly denied him bail.”

“Good. Prick deserves it.” You turned your gaze back down, moving through a pile of papers in front of you.

“She also said you were off the case…” Dropping your pen you groaned, 

“You can’t be serious? After what I went through?!” You were frustrated, this prick deserved to be torn apart and destroyed, since the news of his arrest and assault had spread through the media, multiple other girls had come forward with the same allegations. 

“That’s exactly why you can’t work D’amico’s case. If the defence calls the second chair to the stand, the entire thing will get thrown out and you know it.” Casey may have been right but it simply frustrated you further, and worried her. Once you’d gotten to the hospital you’d shoved her away from you, saying you were fine, Fin taking your statement (despite the camera footage) before driving you home. There’d been no contact between you, she’d only found out you were discharged when Fin made it back to the precinct. 

“Do you need me to take the stand?” You leaned back in your hair, arms crossed around your body.

“If Donnelly throws out the video, yes.” 

Sighing, your gaze cast downward, gaining up the thought of having to testify, you didn’t notice Casey move towards you until her hand was on your chin, soft pads of her fingers tilting your head gently to examine the darkening bruise on your cheekbone. Jolting at her electric touch, you pulled away, a confused look on your face as you looked up at her.

“You sure you’re okay?” Her voice was softer, eyes pouring into yours.

“I’m fine Novak.” You snapped, pushing your chair back into your desk, attempting to continue working, Casey took that as her cue to move back around in front of your desk. She was genuinely concerned about you, you’d been practically trembling on the way to the hospital, to dive right back into sex crimes work the next morning seemed a little extreme.

“You seemed pretty shaken up last night, I just want to make sure. I’m sure McCoy would let you take a few days.” Groaning you dropped your pen again, running your hands over your face, wincing slightly as you pressed a little too hard on your bruising cheek.

“I don’t need a few days! I was so shaken up last night because that was…the first time a man has ever done anything like that to me…” Casey gave you a confused look, starting to process this new information. “I don’t sleep with men, I don’t date men….on a good day I find them tolerable at best.” 

“…You’re gay…” She slowly and gently spoke, a hint of question still in her voice. You met her eyes, nodding slightly.

“Yeah…kind of a double whammy on your dignity when you get assaulted by a creep of a man…” The air between the two of you took a shift with the knew knowledge opened up.

“I’m sorry I pried, I didn’t mean to—“

“Don’t worry about it.” You waved her off, 

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Aside from being kicked off the case, trust me, I’m fine.” Casey sighed, truth be told if she was in the same situation she’d want to dive right back into work too.

“Liv just called, they caught a DV case, head down there, take it on your own.” You gave her a curt smile, gathering up the paperwork into its file.

“Thank you.” You moved to pass the information you’d been organizing for the D’amico case to her, another jolt as her hand brushed yours when she took it. You shook it off, pulling on your coat as you made your way out into the streets.

***

Domestic violence cases were your least favourite to prosecute, more often than not the victims were unwilling to testify or even press charges, blinded by what they thought was love or too terrified to get out and get the help they needed. ACS usually had to get called in if kids were involved and that was always a messy scene, judging by the little boy Fin had in the meeting room, this was going to be one of those cases.

“What’ve got?” You approached Olivia and Elliot at the board.

“You takin’ this one solo?” Elliot questioned, 

“Well I’m officially kicked off the D’amico case, so yeah.”

“You okay?” Liv spoke up, you nodded, giving her a ‘let’s move it along’ look, she turned back to the board, taking the lead explaining the case.“Andrea Taylor, currently at Mercy with a cracked skull, three broken ribs, sprained wrist, multiple bruises and contusions.”

“Jesus…” You took in the photos of the battered woman, “Rape kit?” 

“Fluids present, vaginal and anal tearing.”

“Neighbours call it in?”

“No..” Elliot cut in, gesturing towards the meeting room, “Their 7 year old son Jackson did, crying for them to help his Mom while begging his Dad to stop hurting her.”

“Is he injured?” A shake of the head, “Have you guys ever dealt with them before?” 

“First time.” You sighed, nearly rolling your eyes, “Do you guys even have the boyfriend in custody?”

“He’s in the wind.” That did grant an eye roll,

“I’ll talk to the kid, call me when Andrea’s conscious or you have someone in cuffs.”

The next 30 minutes you chatted with Jackson, warming him up before delving into his home life. He didn’t make any complaints about abuse, though he mentioned that his Dad yelled a lot, and had hurt his Mom before, but never this bad. You hoped that would be enough to scare her into pressing charges. 

***

When you got back to your office you realized you still had a few files that Novak would need for the D’amico case. Bringing them along with SVU’s reports on the Taylor case on the off chance that she’d need you to go over anything, you settled into the large table, pulling up the Taylor’s history and social media accounts you started to piece together the case.

An hour or so later your phone pinged, Casey watched as you checked a message quickly before dropping your head directly onto the table in front of you letting out a groan.

“Fuuuuckk…”

“Everything alright?” She cocked a brow as you rolled your head to look over at her.

“My rape and assault case just turned into a rape one, murder two case, if the Judge throws out the 9-1-1 call I’ll have to put a seven year old on the stand against his own Dad, who SVU has not managed to find yet.” She rolled her eyes heavily, she certainly understood that, the detectives were quick to call the A.D.A. when they had absolutely nothing worth using, and constantly flushed her cases down the toilet by screwing things up. “Not to mention this Plan B is making me really fucking nauseas, I highly recommend you plan ahead so you never have to take it.”

“Well luckily that won’t ever be an issue for me.” You scrunched up your face, still lying against your pile of paperwork, realizing what she meant when she gave you a knowing look and a smirk. How the fuck had you missed that? She started digging through one of her desk drawers, pulling out a pill bottle, tossing it over to the table, nearly hitting you square in the face.

“Jesus Casey…” You shot back, realizing she’d thrown you Gravol. 

“Sorry Y/N…” There was a ghost of a laugh on her lips, was that a smile? An actual real smile, not accompanied by a snarky remark, but a soft one, a glint in her eye. Something changed in that moment, you became human to each other, not just another sass filled A.D.A. rushing through the halls at Hogan Place. Sure you’d still bicker and butt heads all the time, you certainly weren’t friends, the air was still thick, but a little less foggy.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Cross Fire - Ep 34

Immediately setting them up as the villains because they're Japanese, have a white player on their team, and Xu Wei is potentially their new coach. A triple whammy of evil deeds in a cdrama

I mean he's wanted for murder. Seems unlikely that he'd use his real name

Oh, I assumed they'd end up facing the Japanese team in the final

Okay, them all speculating about whether Xiao Feng can still get it up after an 11 year coma is hilarious

Oh come on Chu Ge is a college student and has interned at a major games company. I can't believe she's that sheltered.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING? One minute a nice team dinner, then Lu Xiaobei gets his hand smashed with a meat tenderiser.

I know expecting common sense after blatant cheating during a match final game was just shrugged at but surely, SURELY the captain of a team being assaulted in a way that specifically targeted his hand should be investigated as sus.

Oh shit! I'm no doctor but even I know fingers aren't supposed to do that

Of course he wants to play with a broken hand just to beat Xu Wei who he isn't even sure is there.

OW! NO! WHY? God, boys are stupid

DUN DUN DUUUUN!

[thelittolpinkstudent]

hello, hello! i didn’t end up posting yesterday since i stayed out quite late, so here’s a double whammy! also i didn’t do any work today…oopsies…but there’s always one day a week where you don’t get anything done

what i did yesterday:

✅ attended ballet class and focused on supporting my arms with my back (update from today me: i woke up with a sore back lol)

✅ attended public health where we did an intervention model from different perspectives

✅ got changed and had a snackie

✅ attended german and we learned “denn”

✅ went to german office hours to learn grammar we learned in class while i was sick

✅ burrito bowl #1 (loml)

✅ read and answered questions on a case study for public health

✅ studied a wee bit of german

✅ burrito bowl #2

✅ watched two hours worth of kpop music videos with my friends!

what i did today:

✅ attended fiction writing and heavily annotated my book on everything we examined in openings of stories

✅ attended cultural anthropology where we finished up linguistic anthropology, talking about some american dialects

✅ studied german a little bit

✅ had a meeting with my cofounders on our first club meeting! fingers crossed it will be next thursday evening

✅ had dinner with friends (my school served chinese food today for lunar new year and it was delicious)

✅ watched some more kpop music videos with my friends and hung out a bit

unfortunately i didn’t study as much german as i probably should have since i’m not great with vocabulary, but i think i understand all of the grammar concepts now. languages sometimes are just a sit back and pray i do well situation 🥲 but i have had a lot of fun and good sleep these past two days, and that’s what matters. i ended up front loading a lot of my homework this week, so i decided to give myself a break today since i end later on thursdays, and do more work tomorrow. the grind unfortunately never stops, and in conversations i’ve had recently, i’m kind of glad to realize I’m not the only one struggling this semester with motivation and just wishing it was spring break!

that being said, i hope you all have a great day and sleep well! it’s important to take breaks once and a while and enjoy life while it’s happening 💕

[sidewayspeace444]

You did say something is happening on Saturday and we were all anticipating last Saturday. Seems like it's this one instead. Crossing fingers for January...

One more thing is gonna happen then it’s done.

The whammy is coming!!!