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#imagine. imagine that. id rather die
sludgeguzzler · 1 year
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i really should be studying and focusing on school more tbh
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madrac · 8 months
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this might be an unpopular opinion or not but i find it so funny that they created one of the most heart wrenching scenes in the whole of new who, a soundtrack that still makes me emotional, a dialogue that could kill, and then sent clara oswald to death in THIS
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the combo grandma's crochet centerpiece + questionable 2015 converse or something kills me
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sweetasmiele · 3 months
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you cannot tell me that little rebel mirajane didn’t have laxus buying her alcohol and flirt with him any chance she got
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mercuryislove · 2 months
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it's like I want to make a cry for help but I don't even know what help I want or need. I need to just be. not on this earth any longer
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insanostyle1231 · 1 year
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something just came to mind, iirc in chapter 6 before the last mission or something or during it idk, arthur asks dutch "what about the boy?!" (referring to jack possibly losing abigail) and dutch answers "what about him?" to me this feels like it implied that dutch would take jack in and raise him as his own just like he did with the arthur and john but this time without any of the guidance of hosea (and a mentally stable dutch, he changed a lot over the game) and instead micah's guidance. as in they wouldve raised a "terminator" style jack, a pure meat shield with no distinct wills or wants
thinking about drawing that in like an AU or something
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czerwonywilk · 4 months
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As much as I like ak's world, characters and story it feels bitter with the fact that it's a goddamn gacha
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ochrophyta · 2 years
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its 2pm on a wednesday and i have no responsibilities until sunday.... wtf. i want to like. drive somewhere and car camp for a few days but also i just want to lay on the couch and play persona. might just go biking or grocery shopping idk 😑
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mimzy6bunny · 2 months
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my experience w writing in english (my second language) so far has been something like:
*while writing it* wow this is good, great even.. im p much fluent already :)
*rereading it 2 hours later* Im illiterate.
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razable · 7 months
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the intricate ritual of eating your boot with a boy inside of a homunculus’ stomach after walking for hours through blood and guts and gore.
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teeto-peteto · 9 months
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I think the Graves and Vayne thing was about how they both kind of joined the sentinels for selfish reasons so Graves is all “Hey, bestie!” And Vayne wants nothing to do with people.
I think?
Dunno i was watching a video of the event dialogs trying to catch one of those 'what the fuck' instances but grow super bored about it and left it there and because i got tired of the whacky slapstick.
I want to believe you and that i am a complete paranoid but i swear that the image i got was Graves very insistently trying to hit on Vayne and failing miserably but also having that one TF easter egg on the in game skin wich made me feel like trippin' but yeah, i might have a distorded recall of events.
Perhaps and it was selfish gay man in a relationship trying to be besties with mean lesbian wine connoiseur and i was seeing Riot trying to hide TFXGraves under the rug. But i wouldnt be surprised if Riot ever did that. I will not let go of the Taliyah incident.
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another-atom · 10 months
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i should probably go book shopping before vacation or else
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femgirlfriend · 11 months
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i drank so much yesterday but all the wine was good quality and i got no hangover I actually feel rejuvenated lol.... except for a mildly concerning side pain that was probably just my insides panicking but that's fine now. 🩷 brothers were heavy handed pouring wine samples and i just can't throw away wine so.......
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hvrrycameron · 1 year
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watching youtubers move to ny only to pay 3k a month for a dump and act all blessed about it is so fucking funny but in a depressing way
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porcelana-r0ta · 1 year
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let the mourners come
Title: let the mourners come
Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users
Word Count: 3045
Summary:
It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.
It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.
xxXxx
When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”
So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 
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[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".
End ID]
Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 
Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am
The response from The Joker is quick:
Fourteen year olds are too confident these days
Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.
Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him
He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 
xxXxx
Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 
When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.
“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”
“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 
Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”
He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”
He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”
“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 
“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”
“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Hood, I—”
“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 
He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:
Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 
xxXxx
A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.
But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 
When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 
“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 
“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 
Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 
“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 
Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.
He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 
“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 
“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”
“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.
“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 
This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”
“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 
“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 
“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”
“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 
Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 
There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 
“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.
Oh, this kid is so dead. 
“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 
“What did I do?” 
She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 
“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”
“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 
“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 
“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”
“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 
“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 
Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”
“He sent you your IP Address.”
“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”
“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”
He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”
“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 
“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”
“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 
Damn, Jason curses to himself. 
“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 
“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 
“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 
“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 
Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 
All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.
“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”
“You would punish even yourself?”
“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 
“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”
“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 
Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 
Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 
Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 
“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 
Lab?
“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”
“Wh– hey! No fair!” 
“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 
She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 
“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”
“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.
Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 
A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 
The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 
The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 
“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 
Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?
“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 
“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 
“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 
“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 
“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 
“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 
“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 
As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 
“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 
“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 
She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”
“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 
Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 
“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”
“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”
She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 
“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 
“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 
Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.
“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 
She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 
“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 
Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 
“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 
Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 
She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”
“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 
Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 
xxXxx
Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 
Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls
Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 
i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺
xxXxx
Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)
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sensitivegoblin · 2 years
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ebsmind · 2 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝 ❀ armando aretas x fem!reader
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summary: no one ever said love was easy. good thing you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon even through rough patches.
word count: 2.9k
warning(s): angst!, fighting (verbally not physically), smut (mdni), oral (fem receiving), fab!reader, readers height being mentioned (she’s 5’2), reader has armando wrapped around her damn finger, ummmm probably abandonment but like for only two days 😭, soft!armando, mention of rafe x reader, not 100% proofread
a/n: okay woooo this is the first imagine i’ve written in a minute (if you remember my hockey days ily) i hope this is good and can meet to yalls standards! i had fun writing this and ik it took me like over a week but i really didn’t know what i wanted to do with the plot lol. anyways please send me any feedback and if there’s any spelling mistakes or anything feel free to lmk! this was also my first time ever writing in depth smut so i hope it’s somewhat good 💃🏻 also reblogs are highly encouraged! they help me out sm!
oh! i almost forgot too, i didn’t mention it in here bc it’s not that important to me but i thought id share anyways! i see the reader knowing the AMMO team but she has a different job (id say in hospitality or something with medical knowledge) it doesn’t really matter tho since it’s what i envisioned but i just wanted yall to see where my head is at! okay im going now bye! and enjoy 💋
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“we were crazy to think, crazy to think that this could work. remember how i said i’d die for you?”
The weather in Miami the past week has been bipolar. For it being the middle of September, it was chilly. Something felt off, almost like Mother Nature was reaching out. The rain had just finished pouring, and Armando wasn’t due to be home until another hour. So, when the younger girl heard the lock to the front door turn, she was surprised. He wasn’t one to leave early if anything, he loved working overtime. He always gave the excuse of 'wanting to be the main provider'. When he walks in, he sets his jacket on the coat hanger and doesn’t say a word. Weird.
“Hey you’re home early, what happened?” She stays calm. Something seems off with the 5’10 man and she doesn’t want to upset him even more.
He sets the keys on the dining table rather than the coffee table in the middle of the living room. He scurries off to their shared bedroom. She sighs and takes it as a hint to get off the couch and follow after him. Her mind runs wild on what could possibly be bothering him. Did Marcus find some way to piss him off? Did a raid go wrong? Did she do something wrong? There were so many possibilities of what could’ve gone wrong.
She walks into the bedroom cautiously and makes a B-line to the restroom. Armando had a routine when he came home from work. Put the keys in the bowl on the coffee table, find his girl, give her a kiss and hug, talk about both of their days and finally, hop in the shower. A sense of stability in his life made him feel somewhat relaxed and gave him a reason to never leave. He almost felt normal. Normal was a funny word considering he used to be in the cartel.
She knew the domesticated part of their relationship scared him and it did the same to her. Most nights she’d stay up thinking about if he was going to get up and leave one day. It wasn’t good for her and she knew it too.
She leans against the door frame and watches him get into the shower. He doesn’t seem to notice, he’s in his head and it’s bothering him. Armando didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve but she knew him well enough to know when he was in his head. Being in a romantic relationship with someone with an avoidant attachment style wasn’t easy but she needed to be patient. Some days were harder than others though, and she felt it in her bones that today was going to be a bad day.
She mentally prepares herself by taking a deep breath. She starts by saying, “Armando you’ve got to talk to me.” She uses his full name, no pet names, wanting him to know she’s being serious.
“We will when I get out.” He raises his voice, not enough for it to be considered yelling but just enough to get the point across that he isn’t in the mood.
She doesn’t respond, he needs time to gather his thoughts. She exits the bathroom and makes her way back to the living room. She picks up a book before finally making contact with the soft fabric of the couch. She needs something to distract herself with. About 15 minutes later, Armando walks into the room. She lets him soak in the silence, maybe he’ll get the memo to finally speak up without her having to tell him. To the contrary, he doesn’t.
Taking a deep breath she starts with, “I’m not in the mood to play a guessing game,” She pauses to look him in the eyes, “So please just talk to me and tell me what’s wrong.”
He keeps his eyes locked on her. He knows she’s irritated and wants to get this over with.
“And if I don’t want to talk?”
She scoffs, “You do realize we have to talk about it sooner or later, right? I don’t feel like doing this Armando, so please just tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”
“What if we don’t have to do this?”
Bamboozled, she questions him, “the fuck you mean by ‘what if we don’t have to do this’ ?”
“I don’t want to do this anymore Y/N.”
His confession makes the poor girl's heart fall to her stomach. She can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Their relationship was a tricky one, just like any other. She’s seen her parents go through rough patches before for fucks sake, there’s no way he’s leaving without an explanation. Patience is running real slow between the two and the tension in the room feels foggy.
“Remember when I told you I loved you for the first time? Remember when I told you I’d take a fucking bullet for you? Hmm?”
Armando doesn’t respond. Typical. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the young couple to fight, shit happens. But Armando’s cold demeanor is what was out of place.
She was his safe place and he knew it. She made it very clear when they started seeing each other that he couldn’t run away. Not from his feelings and most certainly not her. So for him to put up those walls that they desperately worked hard to keep down, was upsetting. To say the least.
With the tensions high between the pair, the girl took a much-awaited deep breath and spoke.
“My love for you is unconditional. I hope you remember that.”
Armando looks away and walks out the front door.
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“they all warned us about times like this, they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith. blind faith.”
The mirrors in the bathroom are fogged up due to the boiling-hot water coming out of the shower head. It had been two days since Armando stormed out of the apartment and Y/N was fed up, to say the least.
Armando’s behavior has never gotten that bad. With the way Isabel raised him, it was expected to be rough but he had been doing good, for her. Everything he did, he reminded himself that it was for the both of them. He loved her just as much as she loved him. She fell first but he fell harder.
Armando never thought he would fall in love, but he did. In the middle of a stakeout, he spotted the girl walking out of a cafè. He remembers the dress she wore, it was white, and long, with yellow flowers. It screamed innocence and he loved it.
A week later he found himself following her around. He wasn’t due to go back to Mexico City for another week and he already finished the job so why not kill some time?
Two days before his departure from Miami he found himself in her apartment with his head between her thighs. He never wanted to leave but he couldn’t let anyone find out about you two. The good thing is, Armando was an excellent liar and no one ever discovered his dirty little secret.
Once she gets out of the shower, she waits no time to yell out her lover's name.
“Armando?” She pauses and there’s no answer.
Her heart breaks just a little more. With the ache in her chest, she decides to call the one person who might know where Armando is, Mike.
Mike was someone Y/N found comfort in, especially when it came to Armando. She knew their relationship was tricky, but he cared about his son and so did she.
Mike picks up at the 5th ring. He knew she only called when it was an emergency.
“Talk to me. What happened?” Mike doesn’t need to ask how she’s doing, if anything he’ll do it after but he needed to know what in the hell his son did now.
Mike’s voice brought the girl to tears. She felt at ease knowing that Mike was always willing to help her in a time of need.
She sniffles before speaking, “Oh Mike, it’s been two days since I’ve last seen him. He came home Tuesday night without saying a word and left right after showering. I tried to get him to talk but he wouldn’t budge. I’m really worried he hasn’t done this in so long, I don’t know what happened.” She says it all in one breath, and by the time she is done speaking, she’s panting. Mike pauses before replying to the anxious girl.
“I’ll call Dorn and Kelly to see if he’s been staying with them but he’s been going to work. I knew something was up when he refused to talk to anyone.”
“Thank you, Mike, I appreciate you so much.”
“Of course, but Imma need you to remember that when shit hits the fan never give up. You hear me? Never give up, especially with Armando.”
Mike hangs up after speaking and leaves Y/N to wallow in her thoughts. She understood Mike was a busy man and had a separate life so she didn’t take it to heart but it hurt knowing that she was all alone again.
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“but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you.”
Mike called Y/N back two hours later saying that Armando was on his way home. The girl couldn’t tell if she was happy that he was okay or enraged that he didn’t have the balls to come home without someone having to tell him too. Armando would just have to come home to see the answer to that.
The young woman was frightened, not knowing if this was going to end in a raging verbal war or if everything was going to return to normal. She didn’t want to lose Armando, like she said earlier, she loved him unconditionally.
To kill time, she decided it was best to bake her favorite sweets, chocolate chip cookies. She makes her way to the kitchen to prep the batter. When she goes to preheat the oven, she hears the front door unlock. Armando’s home.
Even after almost two years of being together, he still made her heart race and the butterflies in her stomach never seem to have left.
He walks in and spots her in the kitchen, her back is facing him. He can tell she’s waiting for him to make the first move.
“I’m home.” He closes the front door and locks it, his eyes never leaving her back.
She looks to the right and over her shoulder, “It took you long enough. Where were you?”
“I stayed with Dorn and Kelly. I’m fine Y/N.”
She takes a deep breath and mentally reminds herself that she can’t blow up on him, even though he deserves it. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. There’s nothing else for her to say, he messed up badly and he needed to be the one to fix this.
“Baby look, lo siento, I do. I don’t know what happened. One second I was okay and then Rita said something and I just got angry. I needed some time to think. I needed space.” He makes his way to the kitchen island, he’s now 5 feet away from Y/N. He yearns for her touch. The last couple of days were hard and all he wanted was a hug from his girl, but he knew he wasn’t getting that.
The oven beeps, cutting off Y/N’s train of thought. She grabs the metal tray filled with cookies and gently puts them into the oven. She turns and is faced with Armando. She takes notice of what he’s wearing. It’s a different outfit, she knew for a fact that he came when she was gone for work. He had left with nothing but his keys on Tuesday and Dorn’s clothes wouldn’t have fit Armando. That man was 6’2 for Christ's sake.
“I didn’t expect you to become a coward and just leave without saying a word but here we are.” Armando could feel the heat radiating off of the 5’2 woman. She may be small but she was frightening when she was angry.
Armando grips the counter, hard, he takes a deep breath before answering the girl.
“I know I fucked up but I just needed space.” She scoffs at his statement.
“Needed space from what exactly?” She manages to huff out. She’s fed up and Armando knows it. One wrong move and he’s a dead man.
“Rafe wouldn’t shut up, okay! He kept talking about you like you were just some piece of meat.! I couldn’t take it! I get that you guys dated but fuck!” Armando's grip on the counter is lethal and his knuckles are practically white.
“Armando Aretas are you jealous?”
“No.”
She smiles and gets a glare in return from her lover. Oh, she was going to have a field day with this.
Before Armando came into the picture Y/N had dated Rafe for about 4 months. It wasn’t anything serious, but if you were to ask her what she thought of Rafe, she’d tell you he was a piece of shit.
“Well I think you’re jealous,” she wasn’t letting it go, “and I think it’s hot but you need to remember that Rafe can be a douchebag.” She makes her way over to Armando and pulls him in for a hug.
“Just next time please don’t leave without saying a word and you have to communicate with me.” She looks up at him with her doe eyes while speaking.
“I promise it won’t happen again. I love you, baby.”
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“Religion’s in your lips even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship, we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship this love.”
Without a second to waste Armando sweeps the girl into a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and seeing Kelly and Dorn together really made him miss his girl.
He brings his hands down her body and rests them on her hips. He deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue into her mouth. As much as she wants to fight for it, she knows it’s his turn to take care of her, so she gives in. She runs her hand up to the back of his neck, rests it there, and occasionally plays with the hairs at the base of Armando’s neck. She was the first to pull away, she needed to catch a quick breath before being able to continue. Armando uses this moment to speak.
"Let me take care of you cariño."
Not even a second later, the younger woman lets him devour her like she's his last meal. He maneuvers them to the dining room, grabs her hips, and lifts her onto the table in one swift movement. She lets out a soft gasp when he makes contact with her neck. His teeth sink into the soft skin on the left side of her neck. It hurt, but not enough to cry about it. He soothes the small ache by running his tongue over the semi-red spot. She reacts by putting her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting him to stop. He has her panting, softly. The sounds go straight down into his pants. He chooses to ignore it, he's focusing on her.
He detaches himself from her neck to pull off the oversized tee she's wearing. He throws it to the floor. When he looks at her chest he notices the lacy fabric that hugs her breasts.
He lowers himself to where his lips rest right above her ear and whispers, "You drive me fucking crazy, baby."
Armando kneels in front of her and then proceeds to get a hold of her right leg. Before he continues, he looks up at her. God, he looked so fucking hot. His pupils were enflamed and filled with lust.
He starts to kiss his way up her leg, starting at her ankle, and right when he gets to her inner thing, she lets out a soft gasp. She's got him right where she wants him to be. Armando's right-hand grips the waistband of her black athletic shorts, signaling he wants them off. She lifts her hips and lets him do the rest. Armando takes off both her shorts and panties in one go. He was a tease, but not tonight.
He puts his hands on her hips and guides them to the edge of the table. He has full access and without a second left to spare his mouth makes contact with her folds. She shrieks, then it gets repressed into a moan when he finds her clit. He's lapping at her folds but it's not enough, she needs more.
"More, baby, I need more."
He wastes no time and inserts his ring and middle finger into her seeping wet cunt. Her moans are getting louder, and he fucking loves it. He continues by licking her clit, and her orgasm starts to finally peak.
"Oh fuck, yes, right there." She manages to speak through her moans.
Her right-hand finds its way to his dark brown hair, and she takes a fistful of it, not caring if it hurts him or not. He deserved it, after all, he left her alone for two days. She's close to her orgasm and he can feel it. His mouth makes its way to her clit and about 25 seconds later, she's coming undone.
Her sight fades to black and all she can see are stars. Once the image of them fades away, she looks down at Armando, he's licking her clean. She jerks away, from still being sensitive, but his hands immediately find their way to her hips to keep her in place. Not a drop of cum is going to waste. When he’s done he stands and removes his shirt. Y/N's hands go straight to his jeans, the outline of his cock doesn’t go unnoticed, but before she can get the zipper down the oven beeps. Both of their heads turn in the direction of the kitchen and the girls eyes widen in realization.
“What the fu-,”
"Oh my god, the cookies!"
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