#like you do realize he doesn’t ‘belong’ to ANYONE in particular right??

[luceat-eis]

fandom culture is so fucking embarrassing. will the feral 15 year olds PLEASE chill tf out and just allow people to enjoy things however they want to. lol it’s literally none of your business what someone ships or who someone connects with onscreen. also none of it is real anyway and it’s all just a big fat coping mechanism, we’re all mentally ill just live and let live

[outlaw-apologist]

The Gang With a Plus Sized Lover (RDR2 HCs)

What they would be like with a plus sized lover (Headcanons) Mostly gender neutral (mentions of gender in Bill and Micah's) Characters (in the order they appear): Arthur, Charles, Josiah, Micah, Hosea, Dutch, Mary-Beth Warnings: NSFW themes, mentions of fat phobia (mostly in Micah's). This is a little indulgent for me, so please keep that in mind. :) I'm also open to writing for more characters + other scenarios so lmk if you want to see anyone or anything in particular. (Read on AO3 here) Arthur: - God he loves you. Loves the way you’re so soft. You could wrap your whole entire body around him and lay all of your weight on him and it just feels like home. All of his worries melt away. You feel like a could cradling him. His shoulders relax and he feels blissfully warm while holding you and taking in your scent. - When he’s away from you sleeping by himself is almost impossible. His fight or flight is constantly flaring up without your presence and the man can’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. - Arthur’s not shy about scooping you up into his arms or throwing you roughly over his shoulder. He can handle you easily. Your weight has never been an issue for him. If he ever struggles to pick you up (which honestly has never really happened) he sees it as his own personal problem. He needs to make his arms stronger. After throwing around hogtied bounties all day Arthur feels pretty confident when it comes to twirling you around.

- His clothes fit you perfectly. He thought it was cute when his smaller lovers would drown in one of his shirts after a night of love making. But, to be able to wear his clothes EVERYWHERE? And they look so good on you???? When he sees you’re casually wearing one of his shirts for the day it makes his heart pound SO hard. Arthur doesn’t usually care about fashion, but sometimes he buys nice shirts and wears them around so so you’ll steal them. He thinks they’ll suit you better than him and he’s usually right. -Arthur is handsy when he’s feeling needy with his lover. Always in private, of course. He just needs to feel every part of you after being away for so long. Needs to be reassured that you’re really there whenever a traumatic event happens. He loves that there’s just so much of you for him to explore. To worship. It helps ground him in the present. - He really loves touching you. He doesn’t realize it, but you probably do. Something Arthur loves to do is dance with you! Swaying with his hands on your waist, dipping you in his arms, twirling you… He loves the intimacy of dancing with you and watching you giggle whenever you twirl. - He has never met anyone as accepting as you. Arthur’s never thought anything negative about your body but he sure as hell has a lot of insecurities about his own. He’s learned a lot from you about body acceptance and you’re the only person he’s ever been fully comfortable talking about his body with. - Arthur isn’t usually the type to be emotionally vulnerable. When something weighs heavy on his mind or heart he’ll talk about it but never would he let a lover catch him cry. He usually feels too much of a responsibility of being a man or provider. But there’s just something about you… Some nights he crumbles in your arms, sobbing against your softness. - He doesn’t mean to be stereotypical or anything, so when he starts doing this he’s a little shy. Unsure if you’d take offense to it or not. Whenever he goes out on a job or goes into town and spots something yummy he thinks you’d like to eat he’ll always get it for you. - I’m gonna say it… If you have a clothing item Arthur can wear without the others noticing it belongs to you, he will steal it from you. He loves wearing your clothes too, especially when he can smell you on him all day. He just can’t take the teasing from the other fellas. - If he ever catches wind of any comments made about your body or weight Arthur will confront that person with a fiery vengeance. Let’s just say Micah once mysteriously returned to camp with a black eye and wasn’t brave enough to look your way for weeks. -You once opened Arthur’s journal to find sketches of you, your likeness, and your body in beautiful poses. He bashfully apologizes and admits that sometimes you look so ethereal he just can’t get the image of you out of his head. - If you have stretchmarks Arthur makes it his personal mission, every love making session, to kiss every single one of them. Sometimes if you both are laying there naked talking about life, the future, etc. he’ll idly trace them. He finds them very attractive. _____ Charles: - Charles is so picky with people he falls in love with. He’s experienced a lot of… not so great things from other people’s prejudices ,so he’s not one to judge someone based off of how they look. He will sing your praises until the cows come home and defend you if it’s ever needed. He’s a fierce believer that you’re absolutely perfect; body, mind, and soul. - That being said, this man WORSHIPS you in the bedroom. He compliments your beauty, of course, but he prefers to let his hands, mouth, tongue (and cock) do the real talking. Most of the time he doesn’t care about his own needs. If the sun shines through your hair nicely that day or if you just looked cute- Charles immediately makes a mental note to eat you out once you two are alone. - He loves to take his time when he’s hiking. It’s not about who can reach the top first, but about enjoying nature for what it is. Where others might bitch and moan about how they assume you can’t keep up, Charles LOVES going with you. You both spend all the time in the world together. Catching falling leaves in autumn; identifying different wildflowers in spring; watching the elk in winter; and looking for pretty rocks or feathers during the summer months. - Similar to Arthur, Charles can pick you up as if you weigh less than a feather. He likes to tease you by playfully throwing you over his shoulder, pretending he’s kidnapping you. He loves the way it makes you squeal and giggle with delight. - In some ways Charles feels kind of relieved about your weight. He understand it can come with its own set of challenged but he’s seen so many men starve to death. People he’s loved have withered away to nothing once they caught a sickness. He knows it’s probably a false sense of security, but he can’t help but to think your weight might be your saving grace in one of these areas. He knows it sounds bad so he’ll never say it out loud. He’d be beside himself with grief if either of those things ever happen to you. - If he can touch you in some way he will. His hand will always be on your thigh or lacing your fingers together while sitting by the fire. If you go to town with him he’ll always have an arm around you. This surprised you at first because it doesn’t seem like Charles is the PDA type of man. He’s protective of you. He wants everyone to know you chose him as your lover. - Charles feels SO honored to have someone like you. You’re such a natural person. He feels as though people like you are very rare. You two compliment each other perfectly in his opinion. - Imo Charles has a hard time being with very small partners. He’s always afraid of hurting them or crushing them since he’s such a large man. You fit into his arms just right and he knows you can handle him (in more ways than one hehe). _ Saying “My blanket is too small for the both of us… I guess I’ll just have to hold you all night to keep you warm~” instead of buying a blanket bigger than a single size. He gives you the blanket anyway and still holds you. It’s really unnecessary because you want him to hold you regardless of the blanket size but Charles thinks it’s kinda funny. This is the best flirt he’s got, in his opinion. - When he can tell you’re sick of his little joke, Charles disappears for a few days then returns with the most beautiful (and HUGE) bison pelt blanket you’ve ever seen. It’s so big it practically swallows you both up. Charles isn’t one to hunt needlessly, but he knows this was worth it because you both would end up using it for years to come. He still holds you when you sleep but now you have to tell him to get off of you because you’re overheating. _____ Josiah: - I know it’s probably unexpected but I feel like he would literally foam at the mouth for a large lover. - He will ALWAYS be complimenting you, saying the sweetest most romantic things; “You are truly a goddess/god among men, my dear. I mean, look how beautiful you are. Your very presence demands attention.” “My sweet, you were created to be fed grapes and wine at your leisure. To be surrounded by the finest silks money could buy. Oh, how you are nothing short of royalty.” “Your face rivals that of any cherub presented in holy chapels around the world. If priests were to see you they might try to steal you away from me.” - You know those classical paintings that beautifully depict fat women??? He will commission SOOO many paintings of the two of you in that style. “We need to have one for every room in our house! One to put above every fire place, every tea table, and of course the parlor room!” He doesn’t even own a house. What he does with these paintings you have no idea. You did find a small version of one painting in his pocket-watch one time. It was really cute. - He’s a firm believer that you look as if you belong in high society even if that’s the very opposite of how you grew up. He will always beg you to appear on his arm whenever he has to go to Saint Denis. (Or anywhere, honestly. He’s a simp for you.) - Josiah wants you to throw his skinny little ass around. He wants you to sit on his face and break his neck, suffocate him with your ass. He’s ready to get lost in the sauce. He’s definitely the bottom in your relationship. He’ll even call you mommy/daddy if you’re into that. But he definitely has moments where all he wants to do is kiss every inch of you and worship you like a divine being. Especially if you order him to. - You don’t know how he does it, somehow professional tailors always ‘owe him a debt’. It seems as if you’re being fitted for the finest clothes at least once every other week. He loves to dote on you by gifting you the newest fashions they have to offer. - If anyone tries to get information about the gang from him all he does is talk about you. It’s to such an extreme extent that it’s soooo fucking annoying and usually they just let him go because, god damn, they can’t take it anymore. You’re kind of the gang’s saving grace when it comes to his wagging tongue. - Pleading with you for you to get boudoir photos. “Please my dear! Boudoir was made for you!!!” Literally begging you on his knees. - Whenever he disappears for long periods of time he always comes back with an expensive gift. Even if they’re not really your thing he really loves seeing you head to toe in fine (stolen) jewels. _____ Micah: - Micah is the type of man who is outwardly (and loudly) fat phobic but secretly loves to fuck fat people. - If you were his lover… Well, he’d still be fat phobic. I mean, this is Micah we’re talking about. But he’ll make most of his comments about other people and say less and less about you. He doesn’t let go of it entirely. You’re his ‘piggly wiggly’. That’s his idea of a cute nickname. - He will always make public remarks about your weight in a way he thinks is cute/funny? It’s usually very uhhh… questionable. “Let me just hold onto your love handles, sugar.” “Can you hide this in one of your folds for me?” “Uh-oh piggy’s oinkin’ again!” - If you ever get sick of his comments or upset it’s always “Awww c’mere darlin’. You know I’m just messin’ witchu.” while wrapping you up in his arms. - He wouldn’t worship you in the bedroom the way some of the others would. He “prefers a real woman, not some scrawny little starving bitch”. He loves doggy style the most. Loves playing with your ass cheeks. Spreading them and watching his cock vanish inside of you. Occasionally he’ll feel generous and he’ll focus on you more. Usually, if he catches someone else flirting with you or eyeing you he becomes really possessive and takes his frustrations out by fucking your brains out as soon as you’re both alone. - He genuinely finds you very cute and attractive. Micah really doesn’t know what to do with this information. You catch him admiring you whether you’re doing camp chores or robbing a train. - Micah only gives you genuine compliments when he’s really drunk and one else is around. - He would never admit it but he loves to sleep snuggled up to you. He doesn’t sleep often but when he does it’s usually with you. A large soft warm body next to him is just too relaxing for him to resist. -He’ll randomly come up and spank your ass in front of everyone, then he’ll laugh as it jiggles. -But god forbid anyone else around camp makes a comment about your weight. He’ll eat them up real quick. Only he can bully you. ______ Hosea: - Our man Hosea is a lover of love. If you happen to steal his heart after Bessie’s passing he would DIE for you. No, seriously. He will always treat you as an equal to him. Always tend to your needs if there are any. You are the most important person in his world. - Hosea really finds beauty in fat people. He loves curves, softness, warmth. He finds elegance within you. He truly finds your body poetic. Hosea especially loves stretchmarks. Imo he would say the clique “These are your battle scars!” “Your tiger stripes” kinda stuff. But, he would also trace them with curiosity and probably kiss them too. - After a long day he’ll always ask you if you want a massage or a foot rub. When you two have the chance to take a bath together he wants to wash you. He just loves exploring your body and caressing you. - He’s aware that he’s a tiny man. Hosea could never bulk up like the others and how small his clothes are is not lost on him. Sometimes he’ll buy an oversize coat or shirt and wear it around so some of his clothes can fit you. He feels really proud when he notices you steal his coat. However, he knows he can’t get away with doing that often in fear that you might catch on or, god forbid, one of the gang members realizes…. Instead he’ll plop his hat on your head so you can wear that around. He doesn’t want the others to give you a hard time, especially if it’s because of him. - Hosea loves sleeping on your chest. He’ll hold you, kiss you, snuggle you, but there’s a silent agreement between you both that he’s just a little too small (and sickly) to let you sleep on top of him. If he can sleep on your chest??? Catch this man making happy little noises when he’s waking up your arms. - Similar to Trelawny, he loves being seen with you. He also thinks you look as though you belong in high society and so he invites you to come with him when he needs to attend parties. - He makes sure to give you extra compliments whenever you wear new clothes. Hosea wants you to keep your confidence because, in his eyes, you truly look amazing no matter what you choose to wear. “You look stunning, my dear.” “Ah, blessing me with your beauty today?” “Wow! You look amazing. I’m one lucky man.” On the rare occasion he thinks something looks bad on you he’ll gently say “Why don’t we try this on next?” and would suggest another outfit. Then he’ll compliment that outfit so you’ll be happy and change your mind. He could never find it in his heart to be too upfront or rude about it to you. - Cupping your face. Hosea LOVES to cup your round face in his hands whenever he’s wooing you. To stare into your eyes, your soul, and tell you his feelings. You know when he’s having big feelings because it always makes him whirl around and cup your face before he admits to whatever it may be. Usually feelings of intense love for you or fear of losing you. - He dotes on you a lot. He wants to treasure you as much as possible and give you a happy life. After losing Bessie he understands how fragile life and love can be. Hosea will pick-pocket someone just so he could take you out to a nice dinner or rent a fancy room for the night. When Jack tells him about the existence of spaghetti he immediately took you out to a nice spaghetti dinner. _____ Dutch: - Dutch loves a bed warming partner. His favorite thing is when you retire for the night before him and he enters your shared tent to the warmest bed and blankets (and partner) a man could ever dream of. He’s quick to notice your loss of warmth and would wake up immediately if you left. - His comfort place is laying on your chest or thighs while reading. Perferably if he could read his book out-loud to you. - Your waist/back/neck are all points of interest for him. His hand is always on your waist. This is one of the reasons he loves dancing with you. If you’re walking next to him then his hand is placed protectively on the small of your back. When you both have time alone his fingers will trail up and down your neck where he’ll gladly leave kisses or a mark to show the camp you’re his. - I’m gonna be honest, Dutch loves using you in jobs to get intel or to be someone on the inside. It’s not that he has no concern for your safety, but no one would ever assume you’re with Dutch van der Linde’s Boys. You look so sweet and gentle, not like a robber or a thief. Certainly not like an outlaw. You’re perfect. - You find romance novels in his belongings about outlaws and plus sized love interests, though you nor anyone else in the gang have ever caught him reading it. He must be reading it in secret because a few of the page corners are bent so he could find where he left off. - Similar to Hosea, Dutch knows his stature isn’t particularly large. He likes wearing things that are more form fitting. So you don’t feel left out he’d often (conspicuously) place his hat next to you or your belongings for you to ‘steal’. He does the same with his cologne, hoping you’d use it so you’d smell like him. He never says a word, but you catch him placing these things and walking/hopping away like an excited child. He’s not really good at hiding it. He’ll stare at you as if he could silently will you to put on his hat or cologne and would quickly look away whenever you stare back. It’s really cute. The whole camp often watches in amusement. - Whenever someone leaves to go on a job and returns, candy always suddenly appears by your belongings. You have a sneaking suspicion Dutch requests it of his boys. There’s no way Bill of all people would buy you a chocolate bar of his own free will. And if he did Dutch would probably be a little offended by that. - People say Dutch is very charming and good with the ladies. You know this isn’t necessarily true. He’s just blunt and people seem to find that amusing. So when someone asks him why he chose you and Dutch responds with “I like them big” you might feel like dying inside. He means well…. Sort of… _____ Bill: - Bill prefers big. He’s a big man with a big horse, big hat… you catch my drift. It’s honestly not much of a surprise to the other gang members when he starts courting you. Actually, he’s been making flirty passes at you since you first arrived. - Bill somehow becomes shy and blushy whenever he does ANYTHING with you. The others love to make fun of him for this. Honestly it’s very sweet. Holding your hand? Blushing. Feeling you against him? His whole face is bright red right down to his neck. Seeing you naked for the first time? Bill almost dies- - ngl I think Bill will take a page from Micah and give you a nickname based on your weight. His will be a bit more tasteful. Only a bit. Your nickname might be Butterball, Fudge ball, Snowball, ect. If you don’t like being called something of this variety he’ll stop quickly. He really does love snuggling up to you cooing “My little snowball” with heart eyes though! - If his shirts aren’t big on you he sees this as a personal challenge to get bulkier/bigger. When his shirts are big on you he feels such a sense of pride that his partner is wearing his shirt and it’s big on you!!!! Whenever he catches you in one of his flannels it both melts his heart and makes him incredibly horny! Probably about 50% of the time it ends in sex. - Bill really likes to think ‘save a horse ride a cowboy’ is about him!!! He LOVES the cowgirl position and works out his hips and thighs to make sure you can ride easily on his lap. When you’re tired he loves to buck into you. Despite your size he can thrust up into you and move you with little effort. - 2 words…. Food kink. Either him eating food off of you or you eating food off of him. -Bill wants to be bigger than you. So he can scoop you up easily. When you’re next to him you look small in size. During the night if he’s cuddling with you he envelopes your whole body. - He owns a work horse for a reason. Horse rides to see the sunset is something he loves to do. He knows his horse can go long distances with both of you on its back. He prefers you to sit in front of him so he can wrap his arms around you while you ride off. Once you find some place beautiful to watch the sun disappear he’ll kiss your hair and neck, whispering to you how beautiful he thinks you are or how lucky he is to have you. - Though he is not the most educated of the bunch he has written poems for you about your curves and your beauty. Javier finds one and turns it into a song so he could embarrass Bill in front of everyone. However, he keeps it tasteful on your behalf so it doesn’t embarrass you the way it does your lover. _____ Mary-Beth: - Mary-Beth finds your size sooooo romantic! She easily daydreams of you as a lost king/queen from a far away kingdom. Or a secret member of a royal family. Sometimes she thinks of you as an adventurous mer-person. She’s written stories and enthralling tales of the two of you together in many different fantasy settings. - Arthur doesn’t really use his camera so she begs to borrow it. Mary-Beth can be quite handy when she wants to be. She ‘borrows’ fancy clothes and jewelry around town so the both of you can dress up and have a photo shoot. Somehow she enlists Karen to taking saucy photos of you both. You guys have the time of your lives! Later on those pictures are lovingly placed in a photo album for safe keeping. - She tries to draw you, she really does. She loves all of your curves, stretchmarks and rolls. Wishes she could capture your likeness. But it turns out kind of funny. You both laugh and enjoy the picture anyway. - During sex she’s very curious. Mary-Beth is shy but she also wants you to feel as amazing as she sees you. The only way to do this, in her opinion, is to touch and kiss every inch of you. She describes parts of you poetically as she goes along so you can understand her thoughts. - Mary-Beth steals your clothes all the time! Whenever you can’t find something she’s probably wearing it. Karen or Tilly will tease her about it but all Mary-Beth does is gush about how she LOVES wearing your clothing. It’s so comfy and romantic to her! - You’re so soft! She’s always trying to sit in your lap or plop on top of you – giggling all the while. - During nights where she’s feeling particularly stressed or upset about something she’ll come to your bed sniffling “Please, can you just hold me awhile?” and would climb into bed with you while clinging to you. You bring her great comfort and she thinks you give the best hugs out of everyone. - While she is sweet there’s also sometimes a wicked streak in her. There’s been a few moments where she loves to start making out with you in front of a group of men while Karen or Lenny pick-pockets them. You two sure know how to draw a crowd. However, you’ve only done this a few times.

[crazyk-imagine]

Dogs are more Superior to Wolves

Pairing: Sirius Black x Gryffindor!reader, Lily Potter nee Evans x James Potter  Characters: Sirius Black, Gryffindor!reader, Lily Potter nee Evans, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Alice Longbottom nee Fortescue, Marlene McKinnon

Briefly mentioned: Peter Pettigrew, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Warnings: Fluff, angst, wow it’s like a dagger being twisted in the gut angst, reader and sirius made a promise, this is sadly my fav sirius fic to have written this year, peter is a dick, don’t really know where this was going, idk why it’s always sirius, remus, and george who get my angst feels, no regrets, remus may have had a crush on the reader but no one knows for sure Word Count: 2,385

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You back away from him and walk away, seeing that he’s more interested in your friend anyway. 

Why try and fight to get someone’s attention when they clearly aren’t interested in you. 

You sigh and aim for the astronomy tower, knowing no one will be there right now. 

You set your books down and walks towards the railing, staring down into the lower level, wondering if it’d be wise to hide there forever or- you’re being too dramatic. 

You spin around and walk towards the other railing, thinking that staring out into the school grounds would do you better. “I wish I,” the words die, you don’t know what else to say. 

Sirius finds himself in the tower for- no particular reason but he does feel the need to check on you, especially since Remus showed interest in you and, well. 

It took him seeing his friend talking to yours, to realize he meant her and not you. 

He can’t exactly be blamed for thinking Remus meant you because you and… whatever her name is, have similar features. 

He steps away from the door, glancing back every so often, not waning Filch to catch him and give him detention for the third time this week. “If you say anything that has to do with you not being enough for my idiot of a friend, I wouldn’t say it.” 

You jump and let out a high pitch scream. “For Merlin’s sake!” You spin around and see the infamous and rebellious Black brother, standing before you. “What are- what are you doing here?” 

He shrugs, “not much.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “why do I not believe you?” 

“First off, that’s rude.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I take offense to that. But seriously,” he stands beside you. “You shouldn’t take offense because he doesn’t like you-” 

“I’m not offended.” 

“Sad, whatever. It’s all the same right now. Don’t be sad, you’re going to find that special someone.” 

A soft, sad chuckle escapes you. “That was- that was really kind of you. I was not expecting that.” 

“You weren’t expecting me to be so nice, right?” He nudges your side gently with his elbow. 

“No, so, thank you.” 

“I mean it by the way.” 

“I was hoping so.” 

“I’m not this nice to just anyone.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“It’s getting late.” 

You look up from staring at the ground and stare up at the dark sky. “I guess it is.” 

“Grab your things and I’ll walk you back to the dorms.” 

“Oh, no.” You shake your head. “You don’t have to.” 

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” 

"Are you sure?" 

He nods. "And if you ask me one more time, I'll leave you here." 

You chuckle and reach down for your books, only for them to be taken from you. "Didn't you just tell me to grab my books?"

"I did, didn't I?" He says, finding himself amusing. 

"I can carry something; I won't make you carry it all." 

"Nope, I got it. It'll help me build my muscles." 

"Oh, I see. You help me and you get more girls to fawn over you. Isn't every girl here interested in the lot of you?" 

He opens his mouth to reply but can't think of anything to counteract your question. "Not every girl." 

"Took you long enough to say something." 

He nudges you with his elbow and almost drops all of your belongings in the process. 

You shake your head and continue walking ahead, leaving him to suffer. 

-

“We’re here,” you shift, unsure of what to do next. 

He notices and it warms him he hands you your items and bids you goodnight. 

You whisper the password to the girls' dorms and go to your bed. 

-

Lily turns and glances over at you. “Where were you? You weren’t at dinner.” 

“I... needed some fresh air.” 

“Fresh air, huh?” 

“Shut up, Leenie.” 

Marlene only cackles as she passes by you. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging,” she sits at the edge of her bed, removing her boots. “I was out too.” 

“Yes, but we all know what you do. We don’t know what our lovely pure angel was doing out so late,” Lily says, teasing you. 

You roll your eyes and start getting ready for bed. 

“Is there a reason I saw an extremely excited Sirius roaming the halls?” 

You don’t look at Marlene. 

She gasps, giggling. “You two were doing it.” 

“Marlene,” Lily gasps. 

Alice shushes you three. 

“Sorry, Ally,” Marlene chuckles. “But were you with him?” 

“He found me after I... left the hall.” 

“It was because he was talking to her again, right?” 

You don’t respond. 

“It’s okay,” the redhead tries to console you. 

“It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t live my life crying because some boy doesn’t like me.” 

“That’s the spirit.” 

“And that doesn’t mean that I’ll take after you and find every boy I can.” The blonde scoffs, “I take offense to that.” 

You only smile in return. 

-

A couple of days later is when things get interesting because instead of one friend, it’s two who find you in the astronomy tower. 

You glance up from your books. 

“Sirius told me you made a friend, but I didn’t believe him.” 

You blink once, “why are you two here?” 

“We were bored.” 

A faint explosion goes off from down the corridor. 

You raise a brow, “you two do something?” 

James glances at Sirius, “us?” 

The longer haired boy shakes his head, “never.” 

“What brings you here?” 

Sirius smiles and takes a seat by you. "Boredom. Then I got to thinking about this place and then he followed me." 

You let out a quiet, "ah." 

"Why do you hide up here? Why not hangout with your friends or go to the library?" James asks. 

"I- uh- I like the quiet. My friends are loud or have plans with their study groups and or boyfriend. And the library isn't as quiet as I'd like it to be." 

"I'm hardly there but I'll take your word for it." 

"Now, that I believe," you tease Sirius. 

He sticks his tongue out at you. 

James glances between the two of you, knowing that his friend is developing feelings for you, which is great for him then he can have someone to go on dates with when he and Lily go out for butter beer, or she needs candy. 

"How long have you two known each other?" You ask, wanting to get to know them (and fill the silence before Sirius casts a spell on all your books). 

A couple hours later the boys decide it's time to go down for dinner, dragging you alongside them of course. 

"I'm glad I joined this toad today." 

"Oh, yeah?" 

He nods, "now I know who my Lily pad talks about all the time." 

You shake your head. "She always gushes about you, you know. She's really proud of you." 

"Oh?" 

"There's just one thing I don't get." 

"What's that?" 

"How could this dog land such a smart and pretty lady such as yourself?" 

You don't look in his direction as your cheeks heat up. 

"Alright, that's enough." Sirius throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. "You've got one girl, don't come after mine." 

The three of you enter the dining hall and your friends plus Remus glance your way. 

The wolf raises a brow, wondering when the three of you became friends (same thoughts run through Lily, Marlene, and Alice plus Remus's new girlfriend, Cindy). 

None of you glance over at them until you're sitting down beside the girls. 

Marlene wiggles her brows at you causing Alice and Lily to giggle. 

"What's got you three in such a giggly mood?" Remus asks. 

They glance at one another before focusing back on their meals. “Nothing.” 

He furrows his brows, wondering why they’re being so weird and glances over at you, knowing you’d be more likely to give him an answer but notices the way you and Sirius interact with one another. 

You glance back at the wolf, sensing his eyes watching you two. You offer a small smile; he does the same. You wonder if this is what closure feels like, even if it had been days after crying over him, it’s like you’ve found something better. 

The boy beside you nudges you and whispers, “you, okay?” 

You turn your head towards him and nod. “Good, I don’t like to see you so sad.” 

You’ve never had someone say that to you, it makes you feel different, a good kind of different. 

You giggle as arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Hello to you to, Sirius.” 

He rests his chin on your shoulder. “How’d you know?” 

You pretend to think about it. “Oh, I don’t know. There was a familiar presence around you, and I just knew.” 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or not.” 

“Not,” James says, popping up on the other side of you. 

“How are stud?” You ask him, taking in his appearance. “Are you feeling a little nervous?” 

The man shakes his head, “me? Nervous about asking her to marry me? Never.” 

Sirius pulls away from you and pats his friend’s shoulder. “You got this. We’ve managed to make it out of that school without Minnie coming after us.” 

They chuckled. 

“This is where I leave you,” you try to walk away. 

-

James budges his friend, whispering, “you need to ask her out before I have my own kid.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I just- I want it to be special.” 

“It will be once you man up and ask her… you know Remus was asking about you two the other day.” 

“Huh?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, what’d you tell him?” 

“The truth.” 

“Why?” 

“Because- why would I need to lie to him? He knows you to act like you’re in a relationship but aren’t in one. What was I supposed to tell him? You’re married with a child?” 

“Yes!” 

“Well, now I know for next time.” 

“Next time? Next time, I’m gonna-” 

James takes off, running away from his friend. 

-

You know where they are, they planned on staying in because they knew it wasn’t going to be very safe. You haven’t seen or heard from Peter since last week, which concerned you, especially with everything. 

You told Sirius you were going to stay behind and fight, he didn’t agree with you. 

“No, you’re not going out there on your own.” 

“I am going to fight. That boy needs to grow up in a world where there is no evil lurking around every corner, waiting to get him. I am fighting and you can’t stop me.” 

He sighs. “Be safe?” 

“Always, you know you’re the one who takes the immaturity with you.” 

He lets out a sad chuckle and holds your head in his hands. “When this is over, I want to take you out, okay?” 

You nod, sniffling, “yeah. I like that plan.” 

“Good because you were getting a date whether you wanted one or not.” 

That earns a chuckle from you. 

You two stare into each other’s eyes, not wanting to look away. 

-

The two men stare at the rat they once called a friend. 

“You’re lying,” Sirius hisses at him. 

“Why would I lie when you both know the truth?” 

“You’re once and forever a rat. You lied about being alive this entire time. Why would we believe you when you say she’s dead?” 

“Because you don’t want to believe the truth.” 

The two don’t know why they’re here, they didn’t want to see it. 

They hoped he was wrong, and you were still around somewhere, safe. But now, they stare at the headstone with your name and a piece of them dies. 

“Wh-” 

“Pads…” 

“She’s gone? But we- no. She made me a promise. She promised me.” 

“Pads, I think we should-” 

“I finally did it.” 

Remus decides it’s even more tiring to try and fight him. ”You did what?” 

“The one thing none of us thought I could. I finally asked her out. I mean, it was before we went our separate ways, but I asked her out. She cried when she said said yes. At first, I thought it was because I had asked her out.” 

“And no one would have blamed her.” 

They chuckle. 

“But what if- what if she was crying because she knew she couldn’t make it, like she knew she wasn’t going to make it to see the end of it.” He shakes his head, “it reminded me of when we first met.” 

“She was crying when you two met?” 

“Yeah, the kicker was she actually had a crush on you and then I got to know her.” 

Remus turns to look at his friend, “she did?” 

“Yeah, I think it was a big one too, it took her a while before she found closure.” 

The wolf lets out a quiet, “oh.” Unsure of how to feel, he never thought you had a crush on him. Would he have asked you out had he known, who knows? 

“I don’t know if she actually liked me or wanted to go out, but I was happy to hear her answer.” 

“She did.” 

“You think?” 

“I know she did, she gave you the same looks you gave her.” 

“What looks were those?” 

“Like you were in love.” 

“Maybe we were… I was just too late to say anything about it.” 

“She treasured the moments you shared until the very end, I know because you do and that’s what was keeping you half sane in your cell.” 

Sirius shrugs, “maybe.” 

“Do you think anyone else knew who she was?” 

“The kids don’t. When that rat talked about her, the kids were confused.” 

“Maybe we should tell them a story about her and Harry’s parents. I know he’d be happy to hear more about them.” 

“You think we’ll have time; the second war is coming sooner than anyone would have hoped for.” 

“You sound like me right now.” 

“I know, it’s awful.” 

“Let’s go back and find Harry.” 

“Good idea.” 

Sirius swears he heard a voice whisper, “I do love you.” As he walks away. 

This time he walks out of the graveyard with a familiar warmth in his heart.

[petersbaby]

ALRIGHT this one is pretty rushed, I wrote it at like 12am last night, hope u like it anyway <3 I need to update the masterlist, I’ll try to do that sometime today

Stepbro!eddie x Attention wh0re reader installment #2

Warnings: possessive vibes, stepcest, oral m receiving, smut, use of “daddy” and “baby” pet names, reader is a lil crybaby

-

“Okay, I’ll be right back, guys.” Eddie announces, grabbing you hard by the wrist and pulling you away. When him and his friends were all in the living room playing DND, you just so happened to “coincidentally” come in wearing a skimpy top and your too-short pajama shorts.

Your brothers friends were not the most attractive bunch, but there was one in particular that you’d started realizing is actually cute. Gareth, you think. He was definitely the best out of all of them, besides Eddie, of course. They were all gathered around the large coffee table with game pieces, papers, and soda cans all over it.

You were bored, wanted to get a little attention, and knew those virgins would give all of theirs to you. You entered the room quietly and took a seat on the couches arm rest, perched prettily and watching the boys play.

You tried your hardest to seem like you know what’s going on, observing confusedly for a few minutes.

Soon enough, they had nearly stopped playing as their eyes were glued to you and you were loving it. Eddie didn’t notice you even coming in, only noticed when the guys were distracted and not paying attention.

That’s when he looked over and saw you, a bit of anger in his eyes right away.

He pulled you into the kitchen, angry-whispering to you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, stop being a slut in front of my friends.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” You say, feigning innocence.

“You know what I think? I think you can’t stand it when I pay attention to something other than you. You want to make me jealous because you know I can’t do anything about it. You’re my step sister, so I just have to sit back and let my friends drool over you. I can’t do anything about it now, but when they leave, I sure as hell can.”

The words honestly sting a bit. You were just messing around and he was genuinely angry at you. Your bottom lip quivered slightly and tears started to form in the corners of your eyes, feeling ashamed and regretful that you upset him.

His expression softens once the first tear falls, he can’t stand to see you cry.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay pretty girl. You just want attention, I know.”

You nod silently and step closer to him to rest against his chest, sniffling, and he wraps his arms around you in a brief hug.

“It’s okay. I do mean what I said, though, once they leave you’re mine. Now go back to your room, I’ll be there in a few hours.” You nod again, wiping your eyes and heading up the carpeted stairs back to your bedroom.

You were excited for him to remind you that you belonged to him and only him. That you’d never need another boy, that you don’t need to flirt with anyone else.

-

The house is quiet now, it’s 1:30 in the morning when you finally hear heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. Just jump to sit up in bed from your laying position where you had been bored and waiting.

He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t need to.

“Hi princess.” He greets you, admiring the way your face lit up from him walking in the room.

“Hi daddy.” You say softly with a smile.

“Alright, as cute as you are, I’m still gonna have to punish you a little bit. Trying to make me jealous is not a good thing to do and can’t be left unchecked.”

You just look at him, understanding. You await his instructions.

“Down. On the floor.” He commands, and you get out of bed to drop on your knees in the floor in front of him and started the process. This was something he did to “punish” you, but you secretly love it.

Looking up, your hand runs from his knee, up his thigh, then settles on his crotch. You start to grope his dick, feeling it harden quickly beneath your fingers. Once he was fully erect, you made work of the belt buckle then the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them and his underwear down his thighs.

You look up at him through your dark lashes, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. You lick it all over, teasingly, but you didn’t do it long enough for him to protest as you took the tip in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it.

“Shit.” He comments, which eggs you on. You take more length, hollowing out your cheeks and watch as his head is tossed back. His hand comes to the back of your head, where he got a fist full of your hair.

Using this, he starts to push you down onto him, shoving more and more inches into your mouth. You shut your eyes now, focusing on breathing.

“This body, this sweet little mouth, all mine. No other guy could ever make you feel even close to the way I do.”

You take the verbal abuse because you know it’ll be over soon, that the anger will subside and he will be sweet with you.

“Gotta hear you say it.” He pulls your head off of him. “Who do you belong to? Who’s the one person you really want?”

“You,” you mutter, lips wet with drool and eyes glistening with tears. “Only you, daddy.”

“Good girl. Lay down.” He pulls you up by the hand and you fall backwards onto the bed.

He pulls off his shirt and frees himself from the restraint of his jeans on his legs, then comes to stand above you.

He pulls down your little tank top, exposing your bare breasts, then grabs the sides of your shorts. In the same motion, he hooks his fingers in the band of your panties, pulling everything down as you lay beneath him almost bare.

“So pretty, baby.” He compliments, letting his hands roam across your chest and squeeze your tits. He runs his thumb over your nipple, making it pebble up even harder and then he does the same to the other one. His fingers are cool, but not quite cold. They run up and down your sides.

Now hovering above you as you stare up at him with love, he wastes no more time and you feel the tip sitting right where it needs to be, right in front of your entrance. He pushes in the tip, slowly giving his cock to you inch by inch as you whined at the amazing stretch.

You had to fight back the urge to beg for more, you were going to be grateful for what he was giving you. You gasp once he finally bottoms out, crying “thank you, thank you.”

“Good manners, baby. You’re welcome.” He says proudly, before beginning to move.

“You just needed a little love, huh?”

“Mhmm” you whine.

“So goddamn tight, squeezin’ me, fuck.”

You drink in his words like wine, something bitter but equally sweet.

“Like being your doll, want you to use me.” You gasp out.

“Yeah? Just use you like a fuck toy? You like that?”

“Mhm” you repeat, brain feeling as if it’s melting.

“You know that means you don’t finish, don’t you?” He asks, seeing if that makes you second guess your statement.

“It’s okay, sometimes I’m bad so don’t deserve to.”

“You aren’t that bad, baby.”

He tries to help flip you over onto your stomach. “Ass up, please”, he asks, and you lift your bottom half up on your knees and arch your back. He gives your ass a smack, not too hard but unexpectedly so you yelp.

He slides into your wet heat seamlessly and starts pounding into you hard, making you cry and moan even more than you were in the previous position.

“Sound so pretty but you have to be quiet.” He warns, and you bite your hand to stop it and obey him. “Good girl.” Again. It never gets old. He finds a pace that feels amazing for the both of you, fucking you hard with his hands gripped on your ass for leverage. He keeps hitting a spot deep inside you relentlessly until you’re begging for mercy, for release.

“Go ahead, cum, baby.” He grunts out from behind you and you let go after two or three more strokes. He lets out a string of curse words when he feels you tighten and spasm around him, cumming right after you. The warmth fills you inside and your body falls limp, unable to hold itself up any longer.

Once he catches his breath, he pulls his boxers back on and walks across your room towards your dresser. When he returns to you, he offers a pair of your panties, plain black cotton.

You take them and slide them on, knowing he loved the idea of you keeping his cum where it should be for as long as it’s possible. It created a large wet spot, but did not manage to escape and run down your thighs.

“Sleep in those, okay? I love you. Goodnight.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head before walking back to his room to go to sleep.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

ok ok I’m gonna send one more pookie before I hog all of them 🙏🙏

could I possibly get beach trips with sejanus? I know you’ve written on this before and I loved it soso much - if you don’t want to be repetitive pls pls ignore this one though!!

THANK YOU SOSOS MUCH I LOVE YOU!!!

(ps: sejanus rant making its way to your inbox in a while😋)

This is… much longer than all my other blurbs so far <3 I just love Sejanus (and pookie) so much

2024 Summer Blurbs

Summer so far out in the Districts has always been a struggle, but this year has been a particular kind of hell. You can’t think of a single day that was a reasonable temperature, spending all your time sweating no matter what you’re doing. It’s practically impossible to sleep in your crowded little bedroom, but you keep the windows open and wear as little clothing as possible in a sad attempt to keep you from melting.

“C’mon, we’re takin’ a trip,” Lucy Gray says after you emerge from your room, taking care not to step on any of your cousins spread out across the floor, where they swear it’s cooler than sleeping on a mattress. You can tell where she wants to go just by the glimmer in her eyes, so you make sure to pack yourself a bag with everything you think you could need and wait for everyone else to wake up.

It doesn’t take long, the heat making it unbearable to sleep any longer than you need to, and right before you’re about to leave, Coriolanus and Sejanus are making their way down the path to your front door. You wonder if Lucy Gray invites them or if they have a knack for always showing up right on time. Either way, you’re not mad about it, embarrassingly desperate to spend any time possible with Sejanus and his pretty smile and beautiful eyes.

As much as you’d love to talk, you’re all mostly silent during your trek to your destination, focusing on breathing and not dying from the heat. The only thing keeping you moving is the knowledge that soon you’ll be getting some needed relief from the stifling air, and that you’ve got nothing ahead of you but a day spent with Sejanus, which is your favorite kind of day even though you’d never admit that to anyone.

By the time you’ve made it to your hidden gem, you’ve sweat so much that your shirt is clinging to your back, and you’re too busy fishing around in your bag for the water you’d packed to take in the views. It’s a quiet little lake, closer in size to a pond, that you and Lucy Gray had discovered years ago and you’re convinced no one else knows it exists. It’s farther out of the way than the big lake, more difficult and more time consuming to get to, and you’re sure no one else cares enough to go looking for a private little beach.

Beach seems like a generous title when it’s just a small ring of sand to transition from scraggly grass to the water, but it’s quiet and hidden and blessedly cool. Sejanus has set his belongings next to yours, and you try your best not to ogle as he peels his shirt off. As much as you’d like to stare at him for hours, you turn your back to change out of your own clothes, desperate to get into the water.

The water is just as cool as it looks, clean and perfect and undisturbed by anyone except you and your cousins, and now, Sejanus and Coryo. You can’t tell if your little group is exceptionally loud with the joy of finally cooling down or if this part of the forest is simply always silent, with any noise sounding out of place and foreign. The depth of the lake is perfect, your feet safely on the sandy bottom with your shoulders fully submerged and your head clear above the water line, as if the lake was made with you in mind.

“Are you hungry?” You ask, swimming over to Sejanus and practicing the words in your head because something about him makes you so absurdly nervous, especially now when he’s all smiley and sunkissed, that you don’t trust yourself to form words on the spot. “We should eat before Maude Ivory realizes I brought snacks.” Sejanus matches your grin and follows you out of the water, trying as hard as he can not to stare as you swim gracefully towards the shore, water and sunlight surrounding your movements like a halo.

Luckily for you, Maude Ivory is far too busy trying her hardest to wrestle Coryo under the water while Lucy Grah just laughs to notice you and Sejanus slip from the water. You settle onto one of the blankets you’ve brought to protect your bare legs from the grass and you rummage through your bag until you find the food you’d brought.

“Don’t tell Lucy Gray, I think she was saving this for something special,” you tell Sejanus with a self conscious sort of giggle, unused to his bare skin being so close to yours and a little nervous at the idea of any of your cousins looking over and seeing what you’re eating.

“I think this is pretty special though, don’t you?” Sejanus asks casually as if those words didn’t make your heart stop, as if he doesn’t routinely send you spiraling when he smiles or laughs or even just looks at you.

The moment comes to a screeching halt when Lucy Gray looks away from Maude Ivory and Coryo just for a second and realizes that you’d been hiding snacks from them all, and suddenly it’s all chaos and shouting and uncontrollable laughter as you and Sejanus try and defend yourselves. With everyone caught up in the insanity, you don’t notice the way you’ve flopped over onto Sejanus’s legs when you’d doubled over in laughter, far too distracted with the look of pure betrayal plastered on Maude Ivory’s face.

Finally catching your breath once everyone has been nullified with a share of your snacks, you look up to see Sejanus already looking down at you with an unnamed emotion plastered all over his face that makes you want to get up and run. Instead, you look back at him, almost certain your expression is a mirror of his own.

[tinycoded360]

Chapter 16: On a Mission

Mackenzie finally made it to the power plant with much difficulty. He had to fight the cold elements and avoid hungry wolves. Unfortunately, he was having zero luck getting the power up and running. To his surprise, the old phone on the wall started to ring.

Mackenzie picked up the phone, wondering if it was the mysterious lady sabotaging the convicts. “Hello?”

Unknown female voice. “Me again, so, they sent you to check on the power plant.”

“y…. yeah…… I mean, that’s what they asked me to do.”

“You always do what hardened criminals ask you to do?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Mackenzie’s mind flashes to little Sage and how Mathis threatened her.

“You know you won’t be able to get the power back on, right? The issue with the power…. has nothing to do with the power plant.”

“Yes, I figured. I mean…. how are you so sure?”

“Trust me, I just know.”

“Trust you? Ok, but trust goes both ways. What’s your name?

“Alright then, you can call me Jace.”

“Okay, nice to meet you, Jace. How do you fit into all of this? Are you in trouble?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s a long story. My main concern is making sure that psycho Donner doesn’t make it out of Solitary. If he does, we’re all in trouble, Mack.” Jace continues. “Listen, you want to know what’s going on, with the power and all that? I can tell you, but first, I need your help.”

“How did you end up in BlackRock?”

“My car broke down with the first aurora. Well, not so much as ‘broke down’ as it just stopped working. I wondered for hours before I found the fence leading to the guard tower. The next thing I knew, I heard gunshots. It was…...horrible. I found the bodies that were left out: the guards, prison workers, civilians, and the innocent. The convicts had executed them. I don’t know if anyone is coming to help, but I gotta do what I can to keep these monsters locked up.” Jace explained.

“So, what is the situation with Donner?” Mackenzie asked next.

“I guess you don’t follow the news much, huh? Donner is a Psychopath. I hear his old man, Mathis, isn’t much better.”

“Yeah, I can confirm Mathis is not a great person.” Mackenzie agreed with a frown. “What is the worst that could happen if Donner gets out? He gets stuck out in the wilderness, freezes to death, or gets eaten by something.” Mackenzie tried to reason.

“Wrong; if Donner gets out, he will make it his personal mission to find and hurt every living human he can get his hands on.”

“Is there anyone you are worried about in particular?”

“Never mind that,” Jace said, avoiding the question.

“Ok, so how are we going to make sure he stays in solitary?”

“Well, that depends; how can I trust you will help? What is in it for you?” Jace pressed.

“Mathis is holding a kid that was in my care hostage. So yeah, I don’t like him much. And he’s got something else I need.” Mackenzie explained, thinking of Sage and the metal case that belonged to Astrid.

“Well……shit, I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t realize a kid was involved.” Jace said with a tone of sympathy. “I’ll tell you what. You do something for me, and I’ll find a way to help you get your kid back and whatever else you need. Deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

“Ok, so listen up. Even with the power out, there are physical mechanisms that the convicts can manipulate to get Donner out. We need to fix things so they can’t break him out.” Jace explained.

“And how do we do that?” Mackenzie asked.

“We go underneath the system and bust it up. I got the whole blueprint of the place. You’ll go into the steam tunnels. You’ll find an access door in the rock face just outside the power plant, on the other side of the spillway. According to these blueprints, it leads you…right to the old locking mechanism under solitary.” “Ok…. then what?”

“You tear out or smash anything that looks remotely like a switch….you got it?” Asked Jace.

“Yeah, I get it. Sabotage the thing.”

“Exactly.”

*******

Back at the prison, Mackenzie explains how he could not restore power at the power plant. He is taken back to his cell.

Mackenzie steeled himself as Mathis approached his cell.

Mackenzie's hands curled into fists. "Where is she, Mathis?"

"Where's who?" Mathis examined his nails. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Sage." Mackenzie advanced until he was at the door's bars. "I did what you asked; now where is she?"

Mathis' smile turned cruel. He patted his pocket. "The little mouse? She's right here, safe and sound."

Mackenzie Grabbed the metal bars. "Give her to me!"

Mathis opens the cell door, shoving Mackenzie back. His men force Mackenzie down to a chair and tie him up.

Mathis paces back and forth, clearly agitated. “The problem I have, pilot, is that you keep lying to me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You see…...that’s exactly the kind of thing that PISSES ME OFF!” Mathis yelled. “First, you pretend not to know anything about the case. Second, you hide your little rat from me. And then you go behind my back trying to mess up my plans with…...an accomplice.” Mathis growled.

“Mathis…I” Mackenzie tried to defend himself or reason with the madman but was interrupted.

“SHUT your mouth. All I hear are lies, I know……everything.”

Two guards approached, wheeling a gurney between them. Mackenzie's breath caught in his throat as Franklin's lifeless body came into view. The guards wheeled the body past Mackenzie's cell without a glance. Mackenzie watched Franklin's face disappear down the hall, his stomach twisting. Franklin had only been trying to help them. And it had gotten him killed.

"What a shame."

Mathis was studying him, eyes glinting.

Rage boiled up in Mackenzie again. “You monster. He didn’t do anything.”

“I know, he was one of the ‘good guys’, but he sang like a bird when we laid into him. He couldn’t give you and your friend up quickly enough.” Mathis sneered. “The only reason I kept you alive was because I thought you could fly us out of here. But now I understand that we could be kings here. So, you’ve outlived your usefulness to me, pilot.” With that, Mathis lifted a metal club he was holding. Ready to beat Mackenzie to death.

Mackenzie tensed, ready for the harsh blow, but then a rumbling explosion rocked the prison. The floor buckled under Mackenzie, tossing his chair over and throwing him to the ground. Mathis was knocked to his hands and knees. Dust rained down from the ceiling. As the dust cleared, Mathis scrambled to his feet and exited the cell, looking to see what had happened.

In the aftermath, Mackenzie's ears rang. He found that he could break his bindings and stumbled to his feet, his senses on high alert.

“What the hell is going on,” Mathis yells.

Mackenzie stumbles out of the cell and watches the drama unfold in the ruined hallway. Some hallways have collapses, fire, and smoke everywhere.

One of Mathis’ men answers Mathis. “The detonators… they blew too early!”

“You MORONS! What about Solitary?” Mathis yelled.

“They’re clearing the rubble now. There’s fire everywhere.” Heller answered.

Mathis turns and sees Mackenzie; he stalks towards him. “I suppose you’re pleased with yourself, you better hope nothing happened…...”

(Jace voice comes through the intercom on the wall): “Greetings. Convict assholes. This is your friendly neighborhood prison hacker, checking in to say…. it’s lockdown time.”

The screech of metal against metal pierced the air as the security gate slid into place with a resounding clang, severing Will Mackenzie from Mathis. The hardened criminal's face twisted with rage; his hand shot out, fingers curling into the fabric of Mackenzie's shirt and yanking him close enough to feel his hot, acrid breath.

"Listen here, pilot," Mathis snarled, "I'm going to destroy everything you love."

In that moment of heated threat, Mackenzie's hand deftly maneuvered into the coarse material of Mathis's pocket. His large, calloused fingers found the fragile quiver of Sage's tiny frame. He curled his fingers around her with utmost care, shielding her from further harm.

Unaware of the rescue operation under his nose, Mathis gave one last shove, propelling Mackenzie backward. As the distance between them grew, Mackenzie tightened his grip on Sage, ensuring her safety in the palm of his hand. He watched as Mathis stormed away down the other hallway.

"Everything," Mathis spat, his voice echoing through the clattering din of chaos surrounding them.

Once Mathis was out of sight, Mackenzie turned his attention to the trembling child in the palm of his hand. Her wide brown eyes brimmed with tears. She was relieved, but the sting of betrayal lingered, evident in her trembling lips. Bruises mottled her delicate arms and legs. Tears streamed down her tiny face as she clutched at his thumb, sobbing.

Anger burned in Mackenzie's chest at the sight. "It's okay," he soothed, "I've got you now."

The borrower girl flinched away from his voice. "You let him take me!" she cried. "You were supposed to protect me!"

Mackenzie winced. She was right. He had failed her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I won't let anyone hurt you again. You have my word."

She peered up at him, eyes wary. But she must have seen the truth in his face because she relaxed slightly. Exhaustion seemed to overtake her anger and fear as she sagged against his palm.

He brought her closer to his chest, shielding her from view. "Everything will be alright," he murmured.

She was so small. So fragile. The thought of Mathis--or anyone--harming her made his blood boil.

“Uhhh…...Mack. Whatever you’re going to do, you better do it Soon,” Jace’s voice announced from the intercom.

Mackenzie could feel Sage flinch at the new voice. The tiny girl looked around, confused. Mackenzie cupped the borrower girl closer to his chest, shielding her from the smoke. She was so small--the fumes could suffocate her.

"It's too smoky," he rasped. I have to get you out of here. But first, I have to get something from the warden's office, and then we’ll be out of here."

The acrid smoke stung his eyes, but he blinked through it, focused on the way ahead. He had to keep moving. Get to the warden's office, get the case, and get out of here.

Trembling within the protective curve of his fingers, Sage peered up at him, her brown eyes wide with terror. As the heat from the nearby flames licked at their surroundings, in an effort to avoid inhaling the smoke, she buried her face into the soft wool, its scent familiar.

Mackenzie raced on through the smoky corridors, focused single-mindedly on reaching the warden's office. The air was growing hotter, more choked with fumes. Flames licked at the walls as the fire spread.

He could hear the structure groaning under the strain, ceiling tiles crashing around him. The prison came apart at the seams, but Mackenzie pushed forward relentlessly.

Cursing under his breath, Mackenzie turned and sprinted down an adjacent hallway, searching for a way around. But he could feel the heat intensifying against his skin, the smoke burning his lungs. Time was running out.

With a final burst of effort, Mackenzie pushed the door open to the warden's office. Chest heaving, he scanned the room frantically until his eyes landed on the hard case.

Mackenzie's hands trembled with adrenaline and relief as he grabbed the case. He'd made it. Now, he just had to get out.

Mackenzie clutched the hard case tightly as he burst out of the warden's office and into the smoke-filled hallway. All around him, the prison was succumbing to the ravenous flames. The air shimmered with heat and cascading sparks.

He had to go to the steam tunnels, which were his only way out now. There was an entrance to them in the courtyard.

They emerged into the cool night air, coughing. The borrower girl sagged against him in exhaustion and relief.

Skidding around a corner, he spotted a door leading down to the tunnels. Mackenzie wrenched it open, rushing down the concrete steps into the dark passage below.

It was marginally cooler down here. He moved swiftly through the dim tunnels, his footsteps echoing against the walls. He knew if he kept following the tunnels, he would make it back to the power plant.

Mackenzie gently brushed a thumb over her tiny, bruised arms. "You're safe now," he whispered.

Her hands slowly uncurled from his shirt. But she stayed nestled in his palm; her relief was palpable. But there was still a flicker of fear in her eyes. Fear of what might have happened if Mackenzie hadn't retrieved her from the clutches of the cruel Mathis, who had inflicted pain upon her delicate form.

Mackenzie brought her closer, a surge of affection and protectiveness filling his chest. He had failed to save her once before, and he wouldn't fail her again. 

[ridiasfangirlings]

munakata introduced scepter 4 to fushimi as a place "not fit for children to run off to when they get into trouble," implying that fushimi either isnt that childish/he sees him as equally skilled and valued as all of his adult employees. but do you think as time passed, he started seeing those tiny child-like qualities fushimi has and smiling about it despite the fact he does not see childish qualities as something that fits within his ideal scepter 4?

Honestly the man who hired Doumyouji doesn’t get to talk about how S4 isn’t the place for childish people (for that matter, don’t complain about S4 not being a place for children when you’re the one recruiting teenage children, Munakata). I feel like Munakata’s intent there was less looking down on Fushimi for being a child and more that he wanted Fushimi to join S4 for the ‘right’ reason. Like the idea that Fushimi runs to S4 not because he wants to or out of any sense of belonging but simply because he has nowhere else to go, treating S4 like a place of refuge rather than a place where he’s expected to be a clansman working towards a goal. Actually even thinking about it I could see Munakata’s words there being less harsh towards children in general and more a kind of general childishness that Munakata ascribes to Homra in particular — because Homra absolutely is a place a kid in trouble could run to when in trouble, as long as you pass the test anyone can join and Homra will shelter them (this is particularly relevant in regards to the Minato twins being sheltered there right at that time in LSW too, in Munakata’s eyes being ‘children’ who got into trouble and ran away somewhere with no purpose other than to escape a situation). I think Munakata was well aware even at the time he recruited Fushimi that Fushimi had a certain childishness to him and didn’t mind, it’s just this specific thing that Munakata wanted Fushimi to grow away from because he had no use for a Fushimi who just runs from a problem rather than facing it head on — when Fushimi specifically faces off against ‘Niki’ in jcube and takes hold of his own destiny, that’s the point Munakata appears to back him up and invite him to S4 because this is what Munakata was waiting for. 

So that said I feel like Munakata does enjoy the childish part of Fushimi quite a bit. In the Sand Castle short story for example, there’s the moment where Munakata compliments Fushimi’s castle and it’s noted that for a moment Fushimi looked ‘disarmingly innocent’ before settling back into his usual cynical expression. It’s not noted in the text but I imagine this is absolutely something Munakata noticed, and at least he’s very clearly aware of the reasons why Fushimi destroys his castle and then simply chooses to make him a new one that will last. Munakata doesn’t have any issue at all with the fact that Fushimi was building a sand castle — something kids do — when he’s supposed to be digging for shellfish (Captain’s favorite privilege at work), in fact Munakata’s very interested in it. I think Munakata appreciates that Fushimi is talented beyond his years but is also well aware that the Fushimi who initially joins his clan is just a teenager and as Fushimi gets older Munakata is willing to be indulgent of Fushimi’s childish moments even if only as part of helping Fushimi work through that part of his personality. In particular I think Munakata would enjoy seeing Fushimi get to have ‘good’ moments of childhood wonder because it’s so clear even without knowing the details that Fushimi’s actual childhood deeply lacked those. Also it’s mentioned in Case Files that Munakata sees something of himself in Fushimi, that Fushimi is what Munakata could have been if he hadn’t had such supportive parents, so I feel like the part of Munakata that also childishly enjoys new experiences and interesting things allows Munakata to understand Fushimi’s childish side more than Fushimi even realizes.

[kazumasdiary]

that 2-3 cutscene, part iii: barok

you know that cold sinking feeling you get when something you’d kind of guessed but hadn't confirmed yet turns out to be true? like, you knew, but you didn't have proof- and now you do, and there's just this pit in your stomach, because even if you knew you didn't want it to be true?

yeah, that’s barok in this.

going into this scene, barok has more than enough information to put things together. if you show him your armband at the very beginning of 2-3 he asks what it is, and when you explain, he asks why you're showing it to him. but then he says this:

“......... I can understand, at least... ...there's merit in reminding yourself of who helped you become what you are today.”

as a response to “here's the thing that marks me as a lawyer,” this doesn't make any sense- the armband belongs to ryunosuke, why would it remind him of someone else- unless barok knows, to some extent, what happened on that ship: that ryunosuke got that armband from a friend who died, who is the reason ryunosuke became a lawyer, and it is a reminder of that friend. and just to hammer it in, on his next line, he gets a very particular damage animation: specifically, the one where he looks away and puts one hand over what we will later find out is, of course, his dead brother’s prosecution badge. 

this is all circumstantial evidence at best, but why would barok reference these parallels between him and ryunosuke so strongly, unless he knew they were there? unless he knew that ryunosuke, like him, lost someone close to him, and now works as a lawyer in their name?

and three months ago, barok got a new apprentice: who doesn't remember anything about himself, who's not allowed to show his face in front of anyone, and who’s not allowed to speak to “anyone outside of this office”- which excludes most people but, notably, does not exclude barok. so if we assume that barok knew about what happened on the ss burya, then, given that kazuma speaks with a japanese accent, barok can probably realize those two things are most likely not a coincidence.

and again, we have no proof for this, but barok knew genshin. If genshin ever mentioned his son’s name in front of barok, and barok remembers it, then once susato says kazuma’s name on that exhibition stage, barok has all the pieces to put together everything that's revealed at the end of 2-3.

and barok’s no fool. i think he does put those pieces together. i think by the time we reach that last stretch of trial, he knows who kazuma is, and how kazuma relates back to him. when you first start poking at the professor case with that waxwork, he says

“You should know... ...that you're on the brink of opening Pandora's box.”

as a reaction, this makes sense- this is a messy painful case with a fair bit of mystery still surrounding it and you're dragging it back up again- but this would also make sense for someone who has very recently realized that something more is going on here, something that loops back to the professor case, and he may not know what it is but he knows that it’s why he has this apprentice, here, now.

i think barok knew what was going on here. i think he knew that something about the professor case was crawling back from the dead, and i think that's in part why he chooses to reveal the secret to ryunosuke at the end of this case.

and i think in that final cutscene, his reaction is less shock, or surprise, and more just that cold, quiet feeling of, “oh. i was right.”

technically, this is not really a betrayal on kazuma’s part. kazuma didn't remember- it's not like he was choosing to apprentice himself to barok, or to hide his identity. but the technicalities of it don't matter. barok may not trust anyone, but if he had any faith in his apprentice at all- and he would have had to, at least enough to fight with kazuma by his side- then functionally this is a betrayal.

we don't see a lot of barok’s reaction in this cutscene. and that's fair! there's a lot going on! but i'd hazard a guess that at least part of it is about taking every emotion he's ever felt about his apprentice and shoving it as far away from him as possible. he made the mistake of letting himself have an ally again- and then it turns out that that ally is the son of the man who destroyed his life, the son of the first person to break his trust so badly that ten years later he still doesn’t believe in anything.

barok’s been betrayed once before. and now another person standing beside him has turned out to be part of something dark and terrible, that destroyed his life once and may very well do so again. no wonder barok calls him the living afterimage of his father. 

like everyone else, barok experiences the ending of 2-3 as a resurrection. but for him it’s a revival of something he knew- and never wanted to see again.

(again, credit to @ifidogaysomyself for the basis of a lot of these thoughts.)

| susato | ryunosuke | kazuma |

[azulas-daddy-kink]

Alright so I know I’ve made some of these points before but now I’m compiling all of my thoughts about Ozai and Ursa’s relationship in one post.

People who do not see Ursa as a victim of Ozai’s abuse and/or delusionally ship Urzai on the basis that Ozai “really loved” Ursa legit fucking scare me.

Ozai did not love Ursa, in any capacity. Ozai does not love anyone. Except maybe himself but he flip-flops on that one, even. 

Ursa did not love Ozai. She was terrified of him. She was taken from her home and forced to marry him - and no, she did not have a choice, not really. Her “choice” was marry Ozai or he kills the love of her life right in front of her. She had about as much of a choice there as Jigsaw’s victims. Starve to death or hack your own foot off, yeah, complete free will.

Then once she married the bastard, she was told she belonged to him, and that she could never see or speak to her family ever again. So romantic, right?

What about this screams “Yes, Ozai, I love you and I can’t wait to have your babies!”

Speaking of, this is more or less implying that Zuko and Azula were conceived as the result of marital rape but y’all ain’t ready for a deep dive into that. Anyone who thinks Ursa could fully consent in this situation needs to have their head examined.

Now backtracking a bit to “she was terrified of him”, let’s not forget this panel!

This is what Ursa looks like when she sees a PORTRAIT of Ozai. A mere portrait. I rest my case.

But alright, I know what some of you are probably thinking. The comics are not canon (except when you want them to be), the comics “retconned” their backstory, or whatever else. I disagree on the last point in particular because that’s not what retconning means. There is nothing, absolutely zero, in the show that contradicts Ozai and Ursa’s comic backstory, or Ozai’s behavior during all of that.

Ozai, in canon, is a genocidal, child abusing, egomaniac. He is shown to have very little regard for others’ feelings, wants, or needs, and only seems interested in his own desires and lust for power. Never once do we see him treating someone with basic respect and consideration, not even his precious favorite, Azula. He manipulates her, he tells her what she wants to hear so that she remains loyal to him but ultimately he views her as a possession - an extension of himself rather than her own person. Which is very typical of narcissists.

Given the way Ozai treats literally everyone else he interacts with, what reason do we have to believe he treated Ursa any differently?

None.

“B-b-b-but what about the fountain?”

Look, I don’t know what it is with this fandom and viewing literally any little thing a character does behind shipping goggles but it is certainly quite annoying.

So here in Zuko’s flashback, we see Ozai standing in front of the fountain, the morning after his father died and Ursa was subsequently banished.

And for some reason, this is used to prove that Ozai loves and misses Ursa which.... what?

A lot just happened over the past 24 hours. Ozai and Ursa murdered his own father for one, and for two, Ozai is coming to the realization that everything he’s ever wanted is now within his grasp. Is it not possible he’s just thinking or clearing his head? I guess that would make too much sense. Is it not also possible that he is mourning the death of his father?

I know, I know Ozai killed Azulon... but it’s complicated. Up until this point, he had desperately been trying to please him. Think of the scene in the throne room, where he’s trying to show Azulon why he is the better son and more worthy of Iroh’s place in the line of succession. And he used AZULA to do it. The child he named after Azulon, his favorite. Declaring that she was “a true prodigy, just like her grandfather for who she is named”. 

Y’all, if this doesn’t scream “Please be proud of me, Daddy!” then I don’t know what does.

It was a bitter pill for Ozai to swallow, I’m sure, that no matter what he accomplished in his life that he would always play second fiddle to Iroh, and that his father would never give him the respect and approval he so desperately craved...

So yeah, gonna go out on a limb here and say this is what Ozai was thinking about. The father he had spent his entire life trying to please was now dead, and he had to close that chapter in his life for good.

Now, before anyone comes at me about the “original series bible”, yes, I am aware that it exists and what it says about Ozai and Ursa. The claim is again that the show and/or comics “retcon” this but I really don’t see how when all that was changed was that she was low-born rather that high-born and/or nobility.

I suppose it’s because people like to cherry pick the line “She was the perfect match for Prince Ozai and soon became his wife.”

Here is the thing about royal marriages - they’re not perfect because they’re love matches, they’re perfect because they are politically savvy and present a certain image to the public.

And not for nothing but these early character concepts and the old Nick website say A LOT of weird shit that never made it into the show or is blatantly untrue but even still, nothing in the above passage disproves the following statement: Ursa is a victim of domestic violence.

Ozai abused Ursa. Full fucking stop. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it...

HOWEVER...

...the point of this was not to say that people can’t ship Ozai/Ursa or that they can’t have their own headcanons or whatever. The point of this was to say that nothing in canon supports Ozai and Ursa’s marriage as being one of love and mutual respect and in fact, most of what is shown proves the exact opposite.

Ship what you want, it’s okay. Just call a spade a spade. None of this is healthy, loving, or wholesome but it IS sexy. Nothing wrong with that.

Now before someone tries to say I’m a giant hypocrite because “ew you ship Ozula, your opinion doesn’t count”, you’re still completely missing the point here. I would be the first to say that parent/child relationships are abuse, grooming, non-consensual, and morally reprehensible. I’m not out here trying to say this is an ideal relationship or that this is okay to do.

And that is the difference.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 110

Chapter 110: “What I Can Do”

Their concerns are all valid. Both dads were indeed injured and sorta trapped for a little bit, but it’s far too risky to go back and check on them without knowing the status of the enemy. Poor Ray, always being the logical one and dealing out the hard truths no one wants to hear.

At least he feels bad for the outburst. Can’t really blame him for losing his cool either. Everyone’s emotions are a mess at the moment and we already know Ray doesn’t take loses well when it comes to family.

Sandy is such a sweetheart to the younger kids. (I wonder who actually made his little broccoli eyepatch though. it’s adorable.)

You would think I would be making a comment about the Seven Walls or Emma’s dilemma with these panels, but surprise, it’s actually gonna be about Ray. Listen, I dunno the exact layout of the tunnels or how close everyone is to one another right now, but Ray had to be yelling so loud if Emma was able to hear him from her spot next to Chris, a place where I assume she hasn’t moved from since they arrived underground. It’s just amusing to me since Ray is usually level headed and quieter than most of the other kids, even compared to Emma & Norman.

Precious child quite literally being that perfect ray of sunshine everyone needs and brightening the mood in these dark times.

Y’all are so lucky that call came through when it did and not a couple minutes after when Andrew & his men showed up.

So convenient that it was Lucas who was down there to answer the call too. If it was anyone from GF, they might’ve picked up on Norman’s voice.

For real though, even if someone couldn’t realize the difference between James & Norman’s voices, their way of speaking and their plans are very different. A bit surprised Lucas didn’t notice that since he happen to listen to both recordings, or maybe he did and we just never knew because.. well, very dramatic life changing reasons. Either way, I’m glad Emma figures out both WMs are different.

Someone tell me why this bastard gets plot armor and not either one of our bunker dads? Or literally any other human we love? like fucking hell, how can Andrew survive a close up explosion unlike Yuugo & Lucas and Isabella dies by being stabbed by a demon, especially when both Emma & Barbara suffer similar wounds and walk away relatively fine?? I just.. really hate this man okay.

Favorite panel/moment:

I can’t remember all the wholesome father & son moments of everyone off the top of my head, but they all probably belong to Lucas & Oliver and this one in particular is one of the best despite it being so heartbreaking.

[helenadurazzo]

Third Time’s A Charm Part One

Here is a HPHM x Twisted Wonderland Story me and @princess-of-pearls-and-stars came up with. This particular addition focuses on the Ghost Marriage event!

Asteria belongs to @princess-of-pearls-and-stars while Helena belongs to me. The story below is inspired by chapters 14 and 15 from the event

“So we gathered a grand total of NOBODY!?” The Headmage exclaimed as large amounts of refusals to become an acting suitor to a ghost princess to save Ignihyde’s Housewarden came rolling in rapidly.

Ortho only sighed, “Absolutely heartless.”

“Worry not!” Rook called out, “You have two qualified suitors right here!” Referring to himself and Epel.

“Rook Hunt! Epel Felmier!” Ortho cheered up immediately, “You’ll help my brother?”

“But of course!” Rook beamed, “Helping our fellow man is one of the most beauteous acts. That and I refuse to let any more mockery of Vil’s fair features continue! Epel is just as motivated as myself!”

“That’s right!” Epel confirmed confidently, “If I save my Housewarden, then he will have to recognize my strength.”

“So our C Team consists of two people.” Ace observed, scratching the back of his head in disinterest, “Well I suppose I can’t blame the others for not wanting to get involved…”

“I’ll join you.” Riddle announced proudly.

“Wait why!?” Ace questioned, his eyes filled with surprise, “You’re not seriously going to rescue Cater and Trey.”

“That’s part of it.” Riddle explained, “After all it’s part of a housewarden’s job to make up for the shortcomings of their dorm’s members. However, if you remember Ace, there is a much more critical reason to partake in this.”

“So Idia doesn’t become a ghost and Ortho doesn’t burn down the school?” Ace assumed.

“Partially.” Riddle quietly chuckled, “But remember Rule 703: ‘Anyone who comes in second in a croquet tournament must serve the Queen tea the next day.”

“What’s that got to do with…” Ace raised an eyebrow before coming to a realization, “OH!”

“What?” Asteria question, still very confused.

“You see, Cater came in second during yesterday’s croquet tournament.” Riddle explained. “So he must return to the dorm before tomorrow. He has to serve tea to the queen — that is, to me — sometime today!”

“Look dude, if you really want some tea I can just…” Ace tried to offer.

“Out of the question.” Riddle turned him down immediately, “You didn’t even make it into the top ten yesterday Ace. It must be Cater and I’ll make sure he returns on time.”

“Sheesh, always the stickler.” Ace muttered. “At least none of this is my problem, good day!”

“Not so fast.” Riddle stopped him grabbing on to his arm before turning to the headmage, “So the next group of suitors will involve myself, Rook, Epel, and Ace, that makes four.”

“ME!?” Ace panicked, “Why do I need to be a part of this!?”

“Don’t tell me you were planning on sitting out.” Riddle raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Well duh.” Ace foolishly confirmed, “No reason to leap into this trainwreck. I want no part in it.”

“Fine.” Riddle seemingly dismissed him, “Go tend to the hedgehogs or something. I’ll be just fine with Epel here, because unlike you he has some sense of bravery and initiative.”

“Excuse me?” Ace exclaimed.

Riddle sighed as he looked at Epel, “It’s a pity my dorm’s freshmen are such cowards. Seems like you have more courage in your pinky finger than they have in their entire bodies.”

“Ex-CUSE me?” Ace repeated, with Helena quietly chuckling at the scene.

“Spineless worms like him would only slow us down.” Riddle continued to tease.

“EXCUSE ME?!” Ace yelled in an offended tone.”

“Riddle has a point.” Helena shrugged.

“Shut up.” Ace glared at her, clearly not wanting the reminder. “With my slick moves, I could get that bride to fall for me before Riddle and Epel had a chance, in fact, I doubt any of you would make the cut as we saw with the first two teams of guys, especially considering we had a literal prince among one of them. Rook might be fine since he is tall, but Riddle and Epel are shorter than-“

“Do you want to lose your head Ace?” Riddle interrupted him.

“NOTHING!” Ace took back his words.

“This bickering won’t get us anywhere.” Ortho noted, “And we only have a few hours until Midnight.” He then turned to Asteria and Helena, “Would you two make sure they stay focused?”

“You can count on us.” Asteria nodded, responding for both of them.

“Thank you!” Ortho cheered, “I knew you two wouldn’t let me down.”

“Well I ain’t going.” Grim refused.

“Nobody asked you to.” Ace pointed out.

“True.” Ortho agreed, “The chances of the bride choosing Grim are infinitely approaching zero.”

“That sounds like a challenge!” Grim snapped, “I am going with you all!”

“Ah this passion is beautiful!” Rook exclaimed delightfully.

“Considering the time we have and the few suitors left, this will be our last chance.” The headmage pointed out. “If Operation Proposal fails for a third time… Idia’s life will be forfeit.” The headmage pondered before continuing, “Perhaps we need a different approach to ensure the failures of Teams A and B don’t happen again.” He then turned to Helena and Asteria, “Perhaps one of the two of you could act the part of Idia’s fiancee, bringing along four suitors to take Idia’s place.”

“How about Helena.” Ace teased, “She was the one who was confused on why the idea of Idia being prince material was simply ludicrous.”

“Idia’s a fine guy!” Helena defended Ignihyde’s Housewarden. “A bit of a recluse but he hasn’t done anything warrant of this behavior.” She then turned to the Headmage, “I will take up the mantle.”

"And might as well add the rightful fiancée's rightfully furious sister into the mix " Asteria sighed and crossed her arms with a huff "I need to give that princess a piece of my mind about her taking over Ramshakle AND her slapping Deuce. Besides someone has to keep Ace in check"

"What's THAT supposed to mean ?!" Ace turned to look at the noirette with an indignant expression

"Statue Incident, Chandelier Incident, dealing with you when we were trying to get the magical stone from the Dwarfs Mine, the MANY times you've managed to land yourself or yourself, Deuce, & Grim in detention within these two months..." Asteria stated, glaring at Ace while stepping closer to him with each word before poking his chest "Need I say more sweetheart? Oh, and by the way, you still owe me and Helena lunch as payment for convincing Professor Crewel to give you a lighter punishment for the stunt you pulled in Potions class last week..."

“Excellent.” The Headmage clasped his hands together before turning to Riddle, Ace, Rook, and Epel, “One of things the ghost bride took points off of was the suitors attire. And she seemed to be quite taken by Idia’s tux. This is vital information we can’t ignore. I say we create four perfect princes and a rightful fiancee for this next attempt.”

“Don’t you worry Headmage.” Sam assured Dire Crowley when they walked into his shop. “My stock is guaranteed to win this bride’s heart. Take the tuxes are would-be grooms and the dress are would-be fiancee are wearing as an example.”

“Where do I pin this boutonnière?” Asteria heard Epel ask.

“It goes on your lapel.” Riddle replied, “Here, allow me…”

Asteria then heard another voice, this time belonging to Ace as he said, “I’m not sure I got all of this on right. There is a whole lot of parts here.”

“Do not fret Monsieur Heart.” Rook assured the Heartslabyul freshman, “Your Albert chain and rosette are perfect.”

Ortho, who was next to the Headmage, Sam, Asteria and Grim spoke next, “Come out if you are ready.”

“All right.” Riddle accepted before stepping out from behind the curtain. He was dressed in a three piece suit with a white collared shirt, black vest with gold embroidery, and a red suit jacket that went down to his knees, toped with a large yellow tie that shimmered like gold. One side of his red hair was even tucked behind his ear so attentively.

“Roi des Roses you look positively gallant!” Rook exclaimed as he emerged next. He was also dressed in a three piece suit white a white undershirt, white and lavender striped vest, with the rest of his clothing being a royal purple. Rather than his usual hat, his head was bare of an head accessories, an unusual sight.

“Your words are appreciated.” Riddle thanked him. “I must hand it to you as well, Rook. You’ve certainly mastered the mature look; you’re a credit to your year.”

Rook beamed radiantly, “Merci!”

Ace was dressed in a red plaid suit with his auburn bangs tied back in a similar way to how he did it whenever he played basketball. He had a black tie, along with a yellow and blue ribbon. “Sure Housewarden Riddle and Rook look fine and all.” He began, “but I’m definitely not used to these fancy duds. I can’t decide if it’s cool and new or just stuffy and uncomfortable.”

“You have a point.” Epel noted as he also walked out, wearing a white suit jacket, purple plaid vest a black undershirt and pants, a golden tie, and a white rose. “Do I look weird in this get up?”

“Far from it!” Rook comforted his fellow Pomefiore resident, “It highlights your charming looks, that goes for both of you.” He added as he turned his eyes towards Ace as well.

"I have a hard time taking Rook's compliment at face value" Ace said, then immediatly turned to look at Asteria "What do you think Asteria? Am I nailing this lo-"

Ace's jaw promptly dropped once his eyes landed on Asteria. She was wearing an off the shoulders amethyst purple dress with a sweetheart neckline and an ankle length dress skirt. Around her waist was a ribbon with a bow tied at the back that looked exactly like his suits's jacket color and pattern

On her ears were gold and saphirre heart shaped earrings and around her neck was a heart shaped saphirre pendant on a gold chain as well as a gold and saphirre bracelet on her right wrist. For her makeup, there was a light dusting of gold eyeshadow on her eyelids, a soft blush on her cheeks, and cherry red lipgloss on her lips

And her hair - which was always in a singular braid - now fell down her back in long, bouncy black curls, the top of her head adorned with a crown of white, red, purple and blue roses. To put into simple terms, she looked gorgeous

“He is second in command to Vil Schoenheit, he surely knows what he is talking about.” Helena finally stepped out of the curtain, seemingly finally finished up a light layer of make up. She wore an off the shoulder light pink dress that touched the floor, decorated with a faint floral design with a part of the fabric worked as a strap around her waist. Her brown hair was styled in a way where it cascaded down her back and her blue eyes shone brighter than they ever had before. Additionally, she had also been crowned with a series of flowers that resembled what royalty of the garden must have worn.

“You look like a princess!” Asteria exclaimed as she hugged her sister tight. Being careful not to ruin the look. When it came to Ace however, she was having a very hard time functioning

“Oh no…” Asteria internally whined “He's hot...”

Now, you won't ever hear Asteria say it out loud, but she had always, just the teensiest bit, found Ace cute. Though that was usually overshadowed by the fact that he was a major troublemaker. That blasted smirk of his often spelt trouble. But seeing him in that suit with his bangs pulled back from his forehead…

Asteria cleared her throat, “You look good yourself, plaid suits you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Ace admitted as he looked at his appearance in a mirror.

“The outfits are imbued with ancient magic.” Sam explained. “Something about looking extra-attractive especially when it comes to ghosts. You also get some bonus swag with these outfits, consolation bouquets!”

“Ooh La La!” Rook exclaimed, easily impressed, “They are as colorful as they are lovely!”

“These are no ordinary bouquets.” Sam pointed out, “Their blooms draw sustenance from negative emotions. Absorbing sorrows and grudges, the types of feelings that fuel a ghosts power. Should cover all bases for you little imps!”

Ace seemed pleased, “With this arsenal, that bride’s heart is as good as mine.”

Epel looked a bit more confident “I’m starting to think I could actually pull this proposal off!”

“Just remember one little thing imps.” Sam caught their attention. “Only the circle of severance can actually send the ghost bride on to the afterlife. Your success entirely depends on getting that ring on her finger.”

“Her ghost retainers will especially be vigilant this hour.” The headmage added. “If you fail to act genuine with your act, you won’t make it through the door.”

“It won’t be an issue as long as we use our time wisely.” Riddle pointed out. “I’ll prove I’m the picture-perfect prince.”

Rook sounded just as passionate, “I too shall expend every effort to spin words of love and affection. I’m sure with sufficient sincerity she’ll know much I care.”

“I’ll capture her heart I just know it!” Epel claimed proudly

“I’ll make sure this is wrapped up in no time.” Ace spoke without a care in the world.

“It’s now or never.” Asteria wrapped a comforting arm around her sister.

[richreviews99]

American Psycho: A love-letter to toxic masculinity

Patrick Bateman. A vain, egotistical Wall Street yuppie.

Hobbies include listening to Huey Lewis and the News, dining at trendy restaurants, snorting countless grams of cocaine, and most notably, murdering homeless men and prostitutes.

Superficially, “American Psycho” is a shallow slasher film. So much of the content comes off as gratuitously violent when not properly examined. However, once we delve deeper and analyze the sub-textual themes in Bateman’s character, we realize he is an extreme metaphor for feminist concepts like fragile masculinity and the toxic male ego.  

The film criticizes New York city’s yuppie masculinity embodied by Bateman and his friends. The plot suggests that the rigid gender and social roles they adhere to ultimately lead to anxiety and madness (fragile masculinity). In a world where you’re not allowed to be yourself, true identities hide away and turn perverse from neglect. At least, that’s what happens to Patrick Bateman. As the film progresses, we watch his mask slip away, revealing the blood thirsty killer beneath.

In the movie’s opening scene, Bateman and his colleagues sit around a table in an ultra-chic, ultra-expensive restaurant called Pallette. A member of his entourage comments, “God, I hate this place. It’s a chick’s restaurant. Why aren’t we at Dorsia?” The other man says, “Because Bateman won’t give the maitre d’ head.” 

This introduces the viewer to the way Bateman’s circle thinks. They are rich, entitled, status-driven men who care more about appearances than anything else.

In Bateman’s world, masculinity is limited to one particular style with clearly defined rules. There is very little wiggle room for self expression. The film reaffirms this concept by making most of the male characters non-distinguishable. Bateman often finds himself mistaken for other investment bankers and never corrects those who mistake his identity.

As the film progresses, we come to realize that that for him, this is an advantage. His lack of perceived individuality makes it easy to hide his crimes in plain sight, especially as his murder rampages become more frequent and more gruesome.

The assertion these yuppies subliminally remind each other is that there is only one right way to be a man if you want to be in their club. In the end, everyone knows of each other, but no one truly knows each other. 

In the film, anyone who deviates from these standards and shows a measure of otherness, such as Bateman’s gay colleague, Luis Carruthers, finds themselves at the bottom end of the pecking order. Although Carruthers pretends to be straight, everyone can sense he doesn’t belong in their circle and treats him accordingly.

In another instance, when Bateman encounters a homeless man on the street, Bateman kills him for being “such a loser”. This is his first on-screen kill, signifying his complete disgust and disregard for anyone who is not like him.  

In contrast, his second kill is his competition, Paul Allen. Bateman is jealous of Allen because Allen is richer than him, more successful than him, and he can get a table at any fashionable restaurant in town. Allen also consistently insults Bateman publically and has a superiority complex.

Since Bateman has such a fragile ego, he resolves to kill Allen to a) assert his social standing, and b) get even with Allen for daring to compete with him. His unhinged reaction to Allen and the homeless man both signify Patrick’s toxic male ego. 

While the homeless man’s murder represents Bateman’s disgust for those who don’t fit his standards, Allen’s murder represents his competitiveness with those who do.

Everything Patrick does in this film stems from his complete hatred for the weak, his obsessive perfectionism, and his social circle’s obsession with greed, power, drugs and women. All of this has its roots in toxic expressions of masculinity.

American Psycho’s genius is its commentary on a time of excess. A time when people like Bateman could use their privilege to hide their evil in plain sight. It’s a commentary on a world that bred a man like Donald Trump, so in many ways, this message resonates more with our generation than the film’s original audience.

American Psycho asks us to look beyond the surface. What we find may not be pretty, but at least it’s real.

[ideal-girl]

I didn’t include this as part on that original submission because it’s a really shallow reason; especially for a serious topic, but a partial reason I have problems with your recent posts and rebloggings about the Israelis people (the people, not the government); or more accurately, the TONS and SERIES of posts about it, is because, well, I’ve sent like multiple submissions that I’ve been waiting for like weeks or so. Submissions that you promised you would write a response to in like a Wednesday, or “this Friday”, and then days or weeks go by and you never did them. To the point that I suggested you write rough drafts first. So the fact that these submissions still haven’t been responded to yet meanwhile you’re posting or reblogging a recurring series of uncomfortably negative and rather malice-filled (or insensitive) content (you literally made a post saying “Death to all of them”) makes it feel like you’re intentionally ignoring them (even if I don’t think or believe that’s the case). I guess you’re venting or whatever, but it feels like an overload… (there’s more to it but it’s political reasons and you said you didn’t want to touch the subject anymore) It wouldn’t be so bad if, again, you didn’t write outright statements saying that your responses can be done on said specific days… and then it doesn’t show up (like those gifs or the mega post for example). I’m trying to be patient, but with what you were doing recently it’s wearing thin.

Nia: 

I'm not reblogging or reposting anything to antagonize or spite you. 

I just reblog and repost things that are relevant to my blog's primary purpose ("aesthetics"), but I also reblog and repost things that are out of my blog's scope, like Palestine vs Israel, because it's hard to ignore an active war and/or genocide. 

I understand that I have disappointed you in giving false updates about your submissions, but I cannot always control exactly how my life is going to be on a given day.

You can control the publication and presentation of your work by posting it on your own blog.

I'm not being dismissive of you; I genuinely believe that all artists, designers, writers, or general "content creators", even as hobbyists, should be in control of their work by having their own space that cannot be encumbered by other people's unreliableness, spitefulness, etc. Tumblr is a great place for that, but I tend to like Substack even better. 

It's easier for me to reblog or repost something than it is to give my thoughtful opinion, even in bullet points. I still have to put cognitive effort into reading and interpreting stories, and it may take me awhile to formulate thoughts in my brain that I want to express on paper and on my blog. I'm willing to just publish and tag your submissions without my commentary because that's so much easier, but you do have the expectation that I give a response more complex than "it's gud!" I cannot always do that, even if I want to. 

That's just how it is! 

You need to understand that @ideal-girl, and it's many iterations, belongs to me. Your work, although I post and comment on it, belongs to you. You have the right and the obligation to protect and control it, not me. I do not recommend that anyone rely on someone else's space for anything when it comes to their work, and they should not expect someone else to labor for their work either.

If you want GIFs, you should create them yourself. 

If you want a particular story, you should write it yourself. You have the skill for that. I don't even know why this is even be spoken about! When you realized that I didn't have the time or interest to write particular stories or commentaries, then you should have done it yourself. This includes questions you had about Sam's Ex, which I'm using as an example of labor that should have been done by you, but that was done by me. I didn't mind interpreting and characterizing him, but he was your character. You knew him better than me and you should have been the one to understand his mindset and motives. You should have been telling me about him, not the other way around. 

I will be very clear: I liked giving commentary on your stories and I liked answering your questions about your characters when I could. You just have to understand that many of the tasks you asked me to complete are for the author, not the audience. You would understand that if you had your own blog or "space" that requires you to sustain your own authorship. I cannot do that for you here; this is @ideal-girl, nowhere else. 

We do not need to have a "falling out" to part ways. You can make the mature decision to not interact with me. I thought you had already done that after you wrote that rant accusing me of exploiting the Palestine just to spite (Israeli) Jews and to incite ethnic and/or racial violence towards them. You made that accusation, along with some other ones in that same vein, because you didn't see me post fundraisers in support of Palestine and because I provided evidence that racist people do weaponize identity politics and historical trauma to justify being racist. 

I do post things that are purely about the Palestine, with little to no relation to Israel and/or Jews. You will have to go into my archive and scroll through my blog to find those things. I also reblog fundraisers. I also reblog articles that implicate Israel and its complicit citizens, which includes racist people and pedophiles who I have the right to dislike and even wish death on, if they're gonna wish death on children and masturbate to their suffering. 

I will not go back and forth with you about this subject. 

I read that it was racist to challenge racism in particular communities, which I disagree with. I also read that no one in particular communities weaponizes identity politics and historical trauma, which I disagree with. I gave evidence of racism in particular communities and how they weaponize identity politics and historical trauma. My case-in-point was zionistbiker2024, who is Jewish, who is racist, and who exploits his identity and historical trauma to spread disinformation that people are forced to accept if they don't want to be branded Anti-Semitic.

I used him as my case-in-point because the "particular community" in question was Jewish. If the argument was that it's racist to challenge Black people's racism and that Black people never weaponize identity politics or historical trauma, I would have posted jumeisex instead because she does that. It just wasn't the case and so I didn't need to post her. 

FYI: I considered posting jumeisex anyways to "prove" that I confront and challenge all bigots, not just Jews. However, pandering and virtue-signaling is for the weak. It's up to you to understand context and circumstances and to stop attributing malicious intent to someone just because you don't like or understand how they live their life. You accused me of exploiting the Palestine out of spite for Jews because I don't even post fundraisers. I actually did, without intention, discover and reblog fundraisers. These are the posts you consider antagonistic and spiteful towards you, but that's what you wanted from my blog. I gave it to you, not even thinking about you, and you are still upset. 

There's something within you that you need to handle on your own. 

You have to figure out why you feel entitled to my blog, why you attribute malicious intent to my posts without even engaging with them, and why you have certain values (restorative justice, good publicity, "individualism", etc) that you only reserve for certain people but that should apply to everyone.

You said that your patience is wearing thin; my patience is beyond that. I can't keep reassuring you that I don't hate Jews because your belief in my Anti-Semitism is disingenuous anyways. If you read my personal posts in good faith, you would have been able to understand my intentions and my beliefs. You would have understood that they were not rooted in bigotry, but in facts that undermine some of the racist beliefs that are held within some people about the ancestral land being killed for.  

The Palestine, before it was even called the Palestine, was already full of life before the Twelve Tribes decided to join forces and create the Kingdom of Israel. Therefore, Jews have always shared their ancestral land with other communities, and so they are not any more entitled to it than them. This is something you don't agree with but you can't prove me wrong, and so you decided to label me a bigot and end there. There are plenty of other things you dislike about me but that you can't make reasonable criticisms over, and so you criticize my character as if that's meaningful to me. 

We do not need to have a "falling out" to part ways.

That's why I didn't respond to your submission that vilified me for my beliefs and behaviors that are not vicious or bigoted at all. I skimmed through the other one, because what's the point of responding?

I'm not going to waste my time continuing to explain why I post things, why I believe things, why I wish death on necrophiliac pedophiles, even if they are Jewish and/or Israeli, the implications of accusing people of being racist for being anti-racist, what people mean when they wish death on a country (which means death to an oppressive empire and its enablers, which often includes citizens), how decolonialism is inherently violent but not inherently bigoted, and everything else. You're not going to engage with what I say in good faith merely because you don't want to.

You have the right to dislike me, just like you have the right and the obligation and to protect and control your work. You don't have a right to my blog or the right to insult me or defame me because you don't like my opinions or my neglect of your submissions. This isn't a serious thing for me because this is my domain, but you should reconsider the way you treat people when you are disappointed in them.

I was very kind to you in letting you post on my blog when I was more active, and I was very kind to you in explaining over and over again what my beliefs are and why I behave in a particular way to make you understand that I wasn't being Anti-Semitic, I wasn't exploiting the Palestine, or trying to find an excuse to discredit and defame Israel (zionistbiker2024, jumeisex, etc, just appeared on the apps I was using). You still continued to attribute intentional malice and bigotry to my actions, but never gave any clear, definitive examples of that. You just assumed things or sympathized with necrophilic pedophiles (who I wished death on) because of identity politics. That's okay. You life your life. 

We don't need to have a "falling out". We don't have to disrespect or defame each other. We don't need to have a prolonged discussion about anything. 

@ideal-girl, which is my blog, is no longer the best place for your work. I recommend that you get your own space so that you can protect and control your portfolio, and not be reliant on inconsistent, spiteful, or bigoted people like me (allegedly) to maintain and post it. I also recommend that you go into my archive, find your submissions, and make a copy of them so that you can always have them, even if my blog gets terminated or something. This is only if you need to do that and this is just my suggestion. You life your life. 

I will post everything of yours that's in my inbox before I post this response, and then we can be done. We don't have to become enemies just because my blog doesn't pander to you anymore. We can just...stop. 

[trimont]

People.com Interview

Season 2 ended on that cliffhanger: a trashed hotel room and a screaming match between Seattle’s favorite trust fund kids. Someone cheated on their significant other, someone is pregnant, someone got arrested, and someone is back to their old ways. What exactly is in store for the new season?

If you follow any of the EC friends on social media, you may already know the answers to a couple of the questions the season 2 cliffhanger left us with, but not all of them, and the cast is already hinting that you may not find out all the answers right away. "I mean, we actually want you to watch the season." Tristan Montgomery (the usual reason for most of the on-air screaming matches) points out with a laugh. "Besides, I don't know half the answers myself. I watched the last episode yesterday and had a moment of: wait... I said that? I think I'm going to be just as surprised about this season as everyone watching at home."

[Click here to continue onto the article.]

It’s eleven in the morning as the cast of Emerald City begin to trickle into the warehouse we’re using for today’s photoshoot. Each member of the cast was told that call time was ten a.m., but everyone who's worked with the cast before told me to tell them an hour earlier than the actual call time if I wanted them to actually arrive on time. It’s a tip I’m glad I listened to, even if I arrived at ten just in case. Natalia is the first of the cast to arrive, which is exactly what I expected. What I didn’t expect was for her to arrive with Tristan Montgomery’s beloved dog, Princess, in her purse like it belonged there.

MM: Did you steal Tristan’s dog?

Natalia laughs as she sets down her bag, and gently picks Princess up. She lets the dog smell me first before setting Princess down to explore.

ND: He’s been out of town for a couple of days, and couldn’t take her with him.

She pauses for a moment, as though she’s trying to figure out how to politely phrase what she wants to say next.

ND: He’s very particular about who she stays with when he can’t take her with him. It’s a little neurotic actually. I’ve never met anyone who treats their dog like their child before.

It seems like Natalia wants to say more, but before she gets a chance Charlie walks in mid-conversation with someone else. Sixteen year old Troy Montgomery is trailing after Charlie, explaining something in excruciating detail. As soon as Princess realizes who’s in the room, the tiny Pomeranian launches herself into Troy’s arms. The teenager laughs and is completely distracted by the dog as Charlie walks past me and Natalia and makes a beeline for the coffee station set up in the corner.

ND: Pour me a cup, too.

Charlie makes a face, but sets out a second cup regardless. Natalia doesn’t seem bothered by it, and instead makes grabby hands for Troy and the dog to come sit on the couch with her.

MM: I understand why you have Tristan’s dog, but Charlie, how’d you end up with Tristan’s brother?

I’m not surprised when it’s not Charlie who replies, but instead Troy. The younger boy is often featured on the show butting into their conversations. I would probably be more surprised if he hadn’t jumped in to explain why he wasn’t with his brother.

TyM: Tree was taking forever to get ready. Charlie was going to drive Tree today, but Lacey gets weird when she thinks Tree and Charlie are going to be alone so I got to come, too. Tree’s here. He’s just downstairs helping Maya. Her heel snapped on the stairs.

There’s a lot to unpack with Troy’s statement, but I decided to focus on the question that’s probably the easiest to answer.

MM: Why do you call your brother Tree?

Even though the question was directed at Troy, it’s Charlie who answers. He hands one of the coffees he poured to Natalia before sitting down on the other side of Troy.

CH: It’s because that’s what Tris’s best friend, Chuck, used to call him when we were growing up. It was a combination of Troy not being able to pronounce Tris and an inside joke between the three of us.

Troy makes an annoyed face.

CH: Chuck used to call him that because Tristan would climb his latest conquests like a tree.

It’s at this point that Tristan walks inside along with Maya. He seemed to have heard the last part of the conversation because he groans dramatically.

TnM: Aw, man. Why do you always have to tell people that?

MH: That’s what you get for being friends with your exes, baby boy. They’re going to spread all your secrets.

Maya all but flounces into the room, and manhandles Troy out of his seat, passing Princess to Tristan in the process. She settles in Troy’s now vacant spot and promptly steals Charlie’s coffee out of his hand. Charlie sighs and gets up to pour himself another cup of coffee. Tristan immediately steals Charlie’s vacated seat, cooing happily at his dog. No longer interested in what’s going on now that his brother has his dog, Troy wanders off to look at the camera set-up for the photoshoot.

MM: Is it weird working with three of your exes?

Tristan makes a face that is almost identical to the face Troy had made.

TnM: Why does everyone always ask me that?

MH: We barely dated. More of a regrettable one night stand than anything else.

TnM: Excuse you! I’m a wonderful one night stand.

ND: It’s true. He’s a great lover.

TyM: Gross. It’s bad enough when I see pictures of his ass in gossip magazines. I’m too young to hear that my brother’s great in bed.

TnM: Can we please stop talking about my sex life?

MH: Technically we’re just all commiserating that we’ve all slept with you.

TyM: Stop talking about my brother’s sex life.

Charlie has been quiet while the others bicker, and he chooses this moment to come back over with two cups of coffee. He perches on the arm of the couch next to Tristan, and hands one of the cups of coffee to him. No one comments on the fact that Tristan never asked for coffee, so this must be how he and Charlie interact when the cameras aren’t on. Tristan offers him a tired smile and pats his shin before turning back to the current conversation.

CH: We should change the topic. Troy has to live with him. I’m sure Troy is sick of hearing his sex life every night.

Troy flips Charlie off before wandering back over to the couch, and sitting on the other arm, leaning into Natalia.

TnM: What is it today? Pick on Tristan day?

MH: Every day is pick on Tristan day.

She pinches Tristan’s cheek fondly, and he playfully slaps her hand away.

TnM: Aren’t we here to talk about the show?

CH: I mean technically your inability to keep it in your pants is a facet of the show.

Tristan groans, and leans his body weight into Charlie in an attempt to knock him off the couch.

[To continue reading, login to your account here.]

[prettybabybaby]

thimble | adrian chase !

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: adrian proves he doesn’t have a thimble dick.

content warning: fem!reader, enemy!adrian, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

¡ miscellaneous masterlist !

Emilia had sent you over to give Adrian a run down of the plan. You had essentially dragged yourself there, dreading the thought of interacting with him.

As you expected, he opened the door and gave you a look of exaggerated disgust, “what do you want?”

“Emilia sent me,” you said plainly, returning the look. “M’not here because I want to be.” You looked him down, he still had his suit on from when you had seen him earlier in the day, blood splattered all over it had dried down to a ugly color. For someone so concerned with keeping their identity a secret, he apparently wasn’t very careful.

Adrian moved aside to let you in, closing the door as free inspecting the outside. “Well, you’re not pleasant company either,” he put his hands on his hips, standing near the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “you wear your suit at home? Do you ever wash that thing?”

He groaned loudly and looked down as if he hadn’t realized he was wearing it, “yes. I do wash it, I’ll have you know. Not that it’s any of your business. I wash it so often, in fact, that this suit,” he motioned the suit on his body, “is the cleanest thing in this house.”

You took a look around, taking in the sight of the messy home. It was cleaner than you expected, but his work uniform looked like it was hastily thrown on the couch, and he had CD’s laying astray all over his coffee table and the floor. There were dirty dishes piled on a corner of the little coffee table and empty cans of soda and beer bottles near a skewed lamp. “That’s not saying much.”

He scoffed, “well, that’s a little rude. I’m not here often.”

You looked back at him. His arms were crossed over his chest and his glasses were halfway down the bridge of his nose. You smiled mechanically, “sure. Let’s just get this over with so I can go. Yeah?”

He rolled his eyes again, “I guess.” He walked ahead of you and lead you into the hallway.

“We couldn’t have spoken in the living room?” You asked.

“Apparently, my living room is not up to your standards. So I’ll save myself the judgment and take you elsewhere,” Adrian said without looking back.

You followed him indifferently, looking at his minimal wall decor throughout his hallway. He stopped at the end and opened the door on the left, gesturing you to enter. You did so and to your surprise, it was much neater than the living room.

It was obviously his bedroom, though it didn’t seem like he spent much time in there. His bed was perfectly made, as if it hadn’t been touched in a while. His sheets were a dark blue with matching pillows. Next to the bed was a bedside table, on top was a digital alarm clock, and a lamp like the one in the living room, only this one wasn’t skewed. Other than that the room was empty, it felt like it belonged in a completely different home.

“Clean,” you said, nodding in approval. “Guess that suits isn’t the cleanest thing in here, is it?” You gave him a teasing look.

“Yeah, whatever,” he waved you off, walking in to take a seat on the bed.

You looked at him questionably, “why did you bring me in here? An excuse to get me in bed?”

Adrian smiled sarcastically at you, “yeah, because it was me trying to fuck you when we first met.”

“Okay, let’s get this straight,” you defended, holding your hand up, “I was really needy and you were the only person available. So, it wasn’t really about you in particular. I would’ve slept with anyone.”

He snorted, “sure.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I’d rather die than fuck you.”

“Yeah right,” he leaned back on his elbows, “you wish you could fuck me.”

“I’d never fuck you, thimble dick,” you glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey!” He sat up, “I do not have a thimble dick! I was a late bloomer!”

“No one blooms in their mid-twenties!”

“I did!”

“Sure,” you gave in, tired of hearing his voice.

“I’m serious!”

You ignored him, instead turning around to give the room another look. The sound of ruffling clothing caught your attention and your head snapped back towards him.

“See?” He gestured his cock, “late bloomer.”

You stared at him bewilderedly, he had pulled his pants off completely, leaving you with a view of his placid dick. You licked your lips absentmindedly, your gaze falling to his length. He began to harden under your gaze, causing you to smirk. “Am I turning you on?”

“What? No,” he spluttered. His face was a pretty pink, evidence of his nerves, and his glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose again.

“Is that so?” You walked closer to him, placing yourself in front of him. The tip of his hard cock barely touched the fabric of your jeans, you felt it twitch. His breathing was heavy and his cheeks had even more of a red hue up close.

Adrian didn’t say anything, his gaze simply flickering around your face. You extended your hand to his clothed chest, running your touch up his shoulders and back down to his navel. He let out an awkward cough and looked around, anywhere but at you. “Hm, I think I might be turning you on a little bit, thimble.”

“It’s not a thimble, look at it!” He said exasperatedly, looking down at his length.

“well, maybe not in size. But your clear lack of experience still makes the name applicable, considering the full effect of the prick is never felt by your unfortunate sexual partners,” you smiled teasingly up at him.

He looked at you in disbelief, “oh, I know how to use it.”

“Prove it,” you challenged, looking into his eyes. You felt his tip twitch against your belly, and a wave of arousal pooled in your panties. You looked down at his cock, it looked painfully hard, the tip an angry red, the veins running down the length of his cock protruding. There was a smear of precum on your top, you looked at it and let out a chuckle, looking back up at him.

He was already looking at you, his stare was difficult to read. You opened your mouth to tease him some more but he leaned grabbed your face and began to kiss you eagerly. You pressed yourself against him, his cock being forced between your bodies. He groaned and you smiled. You ran a hand up his back, stopping to pull at his curls.

He removed one hand from your face, running it down your body and stopping at the hem of your top, pulling off harshly. You pulled away from the kiss for a second to get the top over your head. You looked at his red face, his gaze was staring at your breasts that were held up by your bra. You yanked him in for another kiss. You felt his hands reach for your bra, tugging it off with no problem. You gasped in to his lips in surprise.

Adrian pulled away from your lips, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. He groaned as he sucked on your tits, giving your nipples a soft bite. You moaned and pulled his head closer to your chest. His hands moved down your body, grasping at your ass and giving it a hard smack. You moaned again as he reached around and unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down your legs as far as he could reach. You tugged them off the rest of the way messily with your feet. You then reached for his hard cock, wrapping your hand around it as he continued to fondle your chest.

He let out a whine as you squeezed gently at his tip, collecting the precum and using it as a lubricant as you stroked up and down his cock. He flipped the both of you around so you felt the sheets of his bed touching the backs of your legs. You reached your free hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down with you as you laid back into the bed. He pulled away from your chest and stared into your eyes, his breathing uneven as your hands worked ruthlessly on his cock.

He leaned down to kiss you, yanking your hand off his cock and grabbing hold of the one around his neck. He pinned both of your hands over your head as he kissed down your body again. His arms were fully outstretched above his head, keeping your hands above your head as he placed a kiss on the hem of your panties. He let go of your hands and tugged your panties off hastily.

You heaved yourself onto you elbows, staring down at him as he kissed up your thighs to your aching pussy. You let out a loud whine as he left a sloppy kiss on your cunt. He moaned as the taste of you hit his tongue. He mouthed your pussy eagerly, circling his tongue around your clit and dipping it into your hole. You bucked your hips into his face while enclosing his face between the hold of your thighs. He only groaned against your pussy, taking one of his hands down to stroke at his neglected cock. You cried out as you neared your orgasm, throwing your head back and clenching your thighs harder.

He pulled away from you, his face glistening with your essence up to his nose. He licked his lips, getting up positioning himself above you, looking down to align his cock with your sopping hole. You both moaned at the same time. Adrian let his head fall, burying it into your neck. He pushed his tip in, biting at the side of your neck, as he sheathed himself inside of you. He groaned, as you clawed at his clothed back.

He began to thrust mercilessly into you, pulling out almost entirely before pushing himself back in. You cried out loudly, grabbing his head that stayed buried in your neck. Your hands roamed his body, the fabric of his suit grazing your sensitive nipples with every thrust of his hips.

He removed his head from your neck, pulling you in for a heated, disorganized kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you as you sucked on his tongue. His thrusts got sloppy, his hands reached down to grip your hips, pulling your hips up to meet his hasty thrusts. He came before you, groaning loudly into your mouth, continuing to rut into you with the same vigor as before. His warm cum shot deep inside you, the feeling almost sending your over the edge. His hands let go of your hips as he continued to fuck you, instead moving up to twist your sensitive nipples as he kissed you.

You gasped and whined uncontrollably into his mouth, your body tensing as you came around him, your walls squeezing whatever cum was left in his cock. He groaned, finally slowing down. You continued to kiss as Adrian hauled himself off you, collapsing on the bed next to you.

“S’not much of a thimble is it?”

[fandomout]

Heyyy hope you’re well, I loved you fic. Your so talented. I just wanted to ask if you would do a part 2 of lip x reader where he realises reader was always there for him and he ruined everything with her and tries to go back to her. It can end however 💕

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

@bxnnywatts , @izraahh1 , and anon thanks for suggesting a part 2. I had a lot of fun writing this, and it inspired me with some great ideas!

Also, to the anon that wanted a Lip seeing reader 10 years later. I'm working on it 😊

Lip realizes his mistake

After you left Lip to fend for himself on the ground, he could only stay on the ground and reflect. He felt slightly numb as more of the alcohol from earlier kicked in. He was feeling terrible as it is, but after what happened between you two, his stomach panged. Although he was feeling pretty helpless, it was starting to get dark out, so he sat up and took out his phone. He attempted to call you, but you hung up quickly. He sighed and rose to his feet. He called and called as he made his way through the street not really searching for any particular place, but he let his feet carry him.

Lip found his way to Kev and V’s. Both of them give an alarmed look at Lip’s state. Lip lays money on the table and says, “Keep‘em coming.” V gives Kev a stern look and motion him over to Lip. Kev nods and walks over. He serves him a pint and asks, “Everything alright, bud?” Lip down ths pint in reply. “Alright then, but you seem like you started your party earlier today .“

"Well, the party’s not over, I guess.” He taps at his glass for another one, which Kev provides. V rolls her eyes at Kev and makes her way over.

“Is there something you want to talk about, Lip?”

“V, you don’t just ask a guy-”

“I am a terrible human being. I mean no wonder Helene doesn't want to be with me, but now...now, I’ve ruined it with them too…” He lays his head sideways on the bar with a frown and closed eyes. V looks over to Kev with satisfaction on her face while Kev waved her off. Lip grabs onto the pint and starts chugging it. V grabs onto him, stopping him at a little less than half and urges, “Okay. Okay! You’ve had enough.”

“Not fair. I’m not done.”

“This is all you're getting for a while.” Lip shrugs feeling the bizz hit him quickly as he was already tipsy from the drinks he’d had earlier that day.

“Why did I have to go and say that stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Like like-I have to take a piss.”

“Huh?” He stands up and repeats, “I have to take a piss. You-" He points accusingly to his pint glass. V caught off guard by the action. Lip goes forward and stumbles before he points once more to his glass to say, "Stay." As Lip goes into the bathroom, V can only state, “I’m worried about that child.”

Lip is quick to do his business and is on his way out until he finds himself in the mirror. He had to agree that he didn’t look like himself. He ran his hand over his face before he washed his face in aggravation. He looks to himself, but all he can see is you yelling, “You’re the worst! You don’t deserve anyone, so you certainly don’t deserve me! I’ve been there for you always! Always! How could you throw me away like nothing?! I should’ve thrown you away a long time ago! You're projecting, you're pathetic!” He sucks in a breath and whispers, “You hate me…” He looks up in hopes to see you again; however, he is only met with his own reflection and wanting nothing more than to see you again. Reality setting in that he may get the reality of not seeing you in front of him again.

With that fear, he rushes forward out of the bathroom knocking into someone’s shoulder, which causes him to fall over head first onto the ground. Everyone becomes alarmed, but Kev and V rush over. Quietly, Lip says, “I hate me too."

"Wha?" Kev asks.

"They didn't say they hated me when we talked but they should have because I mean what kind of person let alone a best friend would-Can’t lose them. I have to go to the-” V interrupts him to ask, “Hun, are you okay?”

“I can’t let them go...especially not like this.” Lip tries to get up, but Kev restraints him with the soothing words of, “Yeah, yeah, you can do that later. Right now, you’re not going anywhere.”

“I have to-Y/N-” Lip can’t resist Kev's restraint anymore than he can act like nothing happened.

Kev and V walk into the Gallagher’s house much to Fiona’s discontent. As Kev leaves Lip to sleep it off, V fills in Fiona as best she can about what happened at the bar. Fiona thanked them before going to check on Lip. He didn’t seem like he’d wake up anytime soon. She grabbed his phone for some kind of clue and saw all of the calls he’d made to you. She narrowed her eyes to the cell in her hand unsure of what could happen between you two and wastes no time in dialing you on her cell. You didn’t dare to answer her and turned your phone off. Since you weren't on good terms with Lip, you couldn’t risk another Gallagher's persuasion, so you did your best to sleep that late night.

In the morning, Lip was woken up by Ian stomping into the shared room and dropping a huge box carelessly into his lap.

“Uhmm, ow!” Lip groaned.

“Yeah. Boo hoo you and your bo bo.” Lip starts looking into the box. At first, he was unsure of the items in front of him, but he made out movie tickets, restaurant receipts, a few notes. It wasn’t until he saw a few polaroid's and photo booth pictures of him and you that he understood what the box was.

“Wha-Where did you get all this?” Ian lays a hand on his hip in reply. Lip rolls his eyes at his brother and asks, “Are you trying to tell me you have an obsession with me and Y/N?” Ian grabs the pillow on the bed and slaps Lip with it. “Why are you hitting me so much today?”

“Lip, you are an idiot!”

“What for?!”

“Jesus, this box belongs to Y/N. They kept everything between you two, like ever.” Lip looks down and remembers the last words you two exchanged.

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Colleen was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!..I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.”

He looks to Ian and asks, “Why do you have this?” Possible answers running through his head but none of them sounding like the truth to at least not truths he wants realized.

“I found it...in the alley.” Lip sighs deeply. His heart felt like it was being wringed out. In all the years you’ve known him you always had a certain gentle touch to him. Always trying to keep from adding to his sufferings. I was something special he found in you unlike everyone else he’s ever met.

He’s taken from his thoughts by Ian asking, “What even happened between you two? They wouldn't let me in their house much less tell me what happened. I got so desperate that I was gonna try the back door when I saw the box.. Fiona mentioned that something happened between you two bu-”

”Fiona? What does she know?”

“Lip, catch up, no one knows what went down. We’d all like to know though…”

“We-uh-” Lip wipes at his drippy eyes. “We had a dispute.” He said simply and rose to his feat trying to get changed for the day. He kept his back in Ian’s view as he tried to internalize and bottle up the peering emotions.

“I figured. Are you gonna tell me about what-” Lip turned around swiftly and roared, “No!” Ian got up close to Lip and hollered, “Don’t go yelling at me! Fix your shit between the two of you!...They are my best friend too, and I know they’re hurting right now…” Lip sofens and flumps onto the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.

“Ian, I know I hurt them. I always seem to...When they are nothing but there for me, god I really messed up. I wish-”

“Yeah. Yeah. Good stuff.” Ian picks Lip up from the bed. “While it’s fresh, don’t tell me, tell them.” Lip nods vigorously. He hurriedly gets on his shoes and makes his way out the door with the box of mementos in hand.

You’d gotten up that morning feeling just all sorts of terrible. You’d hardly gotten any sleep. Your eyes are all puffy and slightly sore from rubbing at them. You hadn’t eaten in hours, maybe in a day by now. You were awakened by Ian at your door, but you shied him away quickly. Thinking you could move on with you day was too optimistic as you heard a gentle knock on your door followed by the words, “Delivery!” The words coming out abnormally squeaky, so you knew something was up. You look through the peephole cautiously and see Lip. You try to figure out if you should say anything: tell him to leave, tell him you need time, tell him he really hurt you, play along with his charade; however, you're not allowed a choice when your phone goes off, your hands flounder for it in order to get it off. The caller being none other than Lip. You curse under your breath. Lip’s voice calls out on the other side of the door. “I know your home. Please let me talk to you…” Your tears falling out all over again.

“I-” Your voice running dry. You clear your throat and strongly say, “Go the fuck away! I don’t need this right now!”

“But, Y/N-”

“No! Fucking go! You cared at all about me, you’ll leave me the fuck alone!” He stumbled back drunk in shock of the words. Lip wanted to bust down the door to just hug you, or go off and drink until he passed out again. He just wanted anything other than this reality.

“I do care! I’m sorry If I hadn’t made that known...I should’ve.

You ask, “Are you drunk again?!” He sighs thinking of all the times he’d had to ask others that question that impulsively he answered, “No!” He cursed himself for it and replied once more softer, “No, I’m not.”

“Lip, that’s great in all, but you need help.” Lip’s lip trembles. He attempts to halt the rumble with his teeth, which was futile. You could hear it in his voice for his next words, “I know...You made it very clear to me that I needed help when you disappeared...Yes, it was only for about a day, but I need you to understand something.”

“There’s nothing else to say. I understand.” Lip narrows his eyes and asks, “You do?” You nod although he can’t see you and explain, “We’ve been friends for a long...long time…” Lip smiles hopeful of the response to come; however, it is short lived as you follow up with, “and it’s time to branch out. I mean you have college, different needs, different friends, so...ummm...if you came out of guilt, I’ll just leave you with no-” You clench at your heart as it clenches. It physically was starting to hurt you, but you managed the last few words, “no hard feelings.” Lip pounded at the door once, which made you flinch back.

“No hard feelings? No, no, Y/N?...Y/N that’s not how I feel at all. What I said to you, it was wrong for one thing but also far from the truth. I told you some of the biggest lies when we spoke-Look, I’m horrible. I admit it, and I wouldn’t blame you if you thought so too. I just can’t have you thinking any of this is on you. I can’t have that no matter how this turns out between us...Making you feel like this isn't even my only crime against you-” You heard him shudder on the other end of the door. You walked forward gently but stopped short. You find yourself and open the door. Your face is only reading sullen. Lip’s about to move forward, but the pain he reads in you stops him. Tears pour from your eyes, and you continue to say, “What did you expect?! You choose some woman that’s hurt you so many times it seems over your supposed best friend! I have been there for you! I do not deserve this treatment! I deserve better! You don’t get that, and I don’t think you ever will…I could chalk it up to your drama and being too damaged, but honestly, Lip it's your own damn fault...Years together, and you can’t see what you have right in front of you. Goodbye. Hope things work out for you...” You see how he hangs his head low and begins to sob. You hadn't decided exactly what you’d do with Lip. Glassy oceans meet your gaze. He reaches out and pulls you into a hug that you're not prepared for. His body started to shake against you. He mutters, “I’m sorry for hurting you,” over and over, at least that's what it sounded like at points. When his voice wasn’t cracking, he sounded like wind was knocked out from crying so hard. You wanted to hold him too and feel comfort. History told you that making this too easy on him was what you got you here in the first place. Reluctantly, with effort, you remove yourself from him. The pain in his eyes glossed in at the action.

“Hate you?!” You scoff. “I don’t-”

"You don't understand..." You sob out because this was all just so hard on you, which in turn was making it hard on him. He moves slowly forward and cradles your head gently and ends up resting his thumb on your cheek to wipe tears away.

"I know I don't understand what you feel, but I know what I was doing wrong now. I know how I've been hurting you." He breathed out trying his best to calm himself down. He bites at his lip. “My biggest crimes-” He clears her throat. “Taking you for granted. You know, I don’t always thank you for the things you do, especially not lately. I-I haven’t been on your side even when you’ve always been on mine.” He smiles softly. “It’s something I should of really seen before, but like you said, I’m people stupid. I just really want you to know that your not only the best friend I could ask for but the best person...I want you to know that even if you hate me now-”

“No, please just say it. I don’t want you to hold back.”

“Lip, I have hated how you’ve been lately, but hating you, now that’s too easy, so I don’t...”

“Really?” He whimpered.

“Really. I mean I was just at threshold, but I can’t hate you...I did really hate what you said to be though...I mean years of friendship-”

“I-I know. I said it because I was hurting. That wasn’t right.”

“I know you hurt, but I’ve only ever wanted to hurt together rather than leave you alone. That being said, I’m not sure where I want us to go from here…”

“Whatever you wa-”

“I’d really like you to sell to me why we should still have any kind of relationship. There are a lot of things you did, and I feel you care just-”

“I wish is acknowledges some things you do that I notice that I don’t flat out say that mean so much: making sure I eat in the sneaky ways you do like boasting it's so good or making “extra”, making sure I’m not cold-just you know caring for me in little ways..,” Your heart quickened at his confession. You didn’t think he’d noticed or cared. “I didn’t value our relationship like I should have. I will if you let me. One of the biggest things is I should've let you know how much I-I should've let you know how much I...I love you.” You swallowed at the words. While you knew he did care, you knew love was touchy for him, and he’d never said it to you. “I love you, Y/N.” You hugged onto him uttering against his shoulder, “That’ll do it.” You both laughed out loud. Lip held you tightly like you’d slip away, and he let out groans of relief. “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, so relieved.”

“Me too.” You both stare at each other with smiles on your faces. He wipes at the dried and wet tears and states, “I’m really sorry that I made you cry.”

“Let’s call it even.” You wipe his face with your sleeve with a smile.

“There’s a smile.”

“Well, you caused it, and uhhh...Look, all the self loathing, you gotta work on that...and the drinking I’ll be here to help with that too bec-'' He gave you an expression of doe eyes before he leaned forward meeting his lips to your in which you returned. “Is that part of showing me you care?”

“Yeah. Something like that, but it’s a gesture to show I do love you. I should’ve done this sooner.”

“What about your pro-”

“No one compares to you. I now see that. So, permission to kiss you again.”

“Maybe after some food. I’m starving.”

“Fair enough. Where do I put this box?”

“Where did you get that?”

“Ian.”

“Ian?”

“I can’t believe you kept all this. Also, I’m embarrassed I didn’t make one myself.”

“You don’t think it’s kiddish?”

“No. It’s sweet.” He kisses your forehead.

“Wow, you're really sweet too. People's skills are already better.”

“I don’t know if I’m really less people stupid, but I know I’m less clueless about you. I’d like to become a Y/N expert.”

Hope your day got better

@lipgallagherstan