#(whether either of the parents 'had it coming' or not your loved one snapping and committing gory murders is objectively terrifying)

[susandsnell]

my hot take on Lizzie: the Musical is that the love story becomes infinitely more compelling the more actors/the production lean into Alice's flaws and selfishness rather than presenting her as some fragile little flower who's the voice of reason (tag novel below)

#lizzie the musical #alice ultimately prioritizes her own feelings and unhappiness over repressing her sexuality over lizzie's mental distress over her abuse #(which in fairness alice isn't really in any position to do anything about) #and she can be very sweet to the people she cares about but that doesn't negate/isn't negated by how she's putting her needs and wants firs #while also willingly being lizzie's refuge because she does love her #then in act 2 her turning on lizzie is. very understandable considering anyone would be scared shitless in her shoes #(whether either of the parents 'had it coming' or not your loved one snapping and committing gory murders is objectively terrifying) #(unless you're mrs. lovett which alice is. very much not though they share a selfishness) #and lizzie trying to use their love/sex to manipulate alice into perjuring for her - thus implicating her - is also obviously upsetting #add to that alice's words during the hearing + her overall proper lady schtick show she's drunk the edwardian patriarchal koolaid #'turn of the tables between me and you' is SO much in a lyric #anyway both of them are acting from a place of real suffering and real love and they're both wronging each other #and THAT is what real toxic yuri is all about #no one in this show is a good person. no one in this show (who is onstage) is an entirely bad person either. #everyone is acting from a place of oppression and pain and anguished love. they are all caged birds!

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 3 |

Part I, II

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.

Chapter Summary: After taking an off from school, you are back & Satoru is hovering around you like a looming threat. Suguru is there to defend you this time, but with your rage spiralling, you couldn’t help but ruin the two weeks of you being amicable.

Warnings: Bully!Mean!Satoru ofc, but hey he’s a pookie at heart & he’s contemplating whether to stop!! ✋ Reader-chan snapped in this chapter, soft Sugu<3

Comment down below if you want to be tagged ^^ New chapter comes out every week!

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Satoru feels upset and sick to his stomach, as someone who can be often used to people grovelling for him, being scared of him, and just respecting him as the honored one. You weren’t doing any of those and yet, you were suffering all the same. Any other girl would have chosen the easy way out, what does it need really? Apologize? Cry a little? Why aren’t you doing that?

All he could see was you going back home, the summer sun not being kind to you as you drag your feet back, after carrying his school bag for him. Suguru isn’t talking to him either. He simply said he doesn’t like to associate with feminine men who want to proclaim their ego more than their humanity. Boy that fucking stung & Satoru told Suguru to piss off before he’s beaten to a pulp. It’s not how Satoru was treating you which was a problem for him, he never hoped it would drag so much. All his blinding rage of the moment is fading off easy. He couldn’t drag this for a month for the life of him.

People love hanging out with Satoru also, despite whatever worshipping there is — he still has friends. This is surely one of the reasons they lurk around despite his intrinsic, domineering brattitude. He rolled his eyes upon realizing that he’s been standing there watching you walk away & scoffs, going inside.

Your shoulders hurt but you know his and your home is too far. You decide to use whatever pocket money you have to book a cab and leave home. Once you’ve reached, of course there are questions. Questions from your mum who’s calls you ignored. “Where were you? Why are you coming home from a fucking cab?” She snarled, raising a brow at your tired features. Your parents are normal, not too supportive not too toxic. However, normalcy when you’re imposed with external toxicity sounds toxic. Or maybe they just were… toxic. How would you decide either way? It’s not like you’ve taken trial periods of new parents to come to a decision.

“Sorry; head hurts. I’ll be in my room.” You dragged yourself across the expensive marble flooring of your home. You weren’t poor, per se… you just weren’t made privileged either.

Once you reached home, you sighed, back laid across the mattress and staring out into space. The sight of you drenched in cold water, the way your shoulders have red markings of the bag straps, all because you threw some gravy over the fucking bastard! You grit your teeth, jaw clenching. Fuck you hate him.

You hate that you’re crying again, tears and frustration bubbling in your eyes as you sniffled. Leaning your forehead against the mattress and curling up. You want to kick his ass so bad. If only this parental thing wasn’t involved…

The next day you’re not in school, your period had been unbearably shitty & so was your mental health along with migraines. The next day either, and not even the day after. Satoru is getting restless every day, walking to your class and seeing your seat vacant, walking away. Why the fuck does he not have your number? Why the fuck does it even matter… did he make you leave the school? Nah- why would you leave the school it wasn’t that bad right?

It was Friday again, four days of you not being here… you really thought maybe he would count this in the month? It’s almost two weeks over! Then again, Satoru Gojo would just push it for another four days of you serving him because you were absent. When you enter the school premises, you take a long breath, alright. No biggie, he’s just an annoying bully with Daddy’s money in his pockets.

The moment you enter, you find him lurching towards you, a beaming smile with black glasses. He looks so beautiful if he wasn’t so fucking shitty. You looked up at him and before he could say anything, “I was sick, even in companies and where you work, people are allowed to be sick. You can’t really extend the number of days because I was sick. That’s h-how it normally happens.” You mustered, defensive in your stance.

Oh… wow. He was just here to say hello, ask where you were and that if he had been too annoying that you decided not to come to school. Satoru was going to be nicer. Again, broken a little because you think so shitty of him. Not that he cares… he doesn’t… he— doesn’t…. Does he?

“Yeah, yeah I get you; damn do I scare you that much?” He chuckled, hands in his pockets. You knew you couldn’t say any of the twenty ass biting replies that you had logged at the back of your tongue. “Yeah, you’re my highschool nightmare, Gojo san.” You hummed, walking away.

He’s shamelessly following you, holding your wrist. “Didn’t say I was finished, did I?” His playfulness is gone, replaced by something carnal, icy again. You only manage to shake your head no. “Four days at home got you forgetting how to act right, hm?”

Satoru leaned down, making eye contact with you. You glanced at him back, pouting helplessly and shaking your head no. “Just- didn’t think you need me.”

He didn’t really plan on it, he just wanted to have a conversation! Why were you sick? His stomach was turning upside down at the thought of you handling Japan’s heat at 3 PM that Monday. He could’ve asked if you wanted some water… fuck this. He made this bet to make you suffer & you were suffering. What’s the problem really?

The problem was he wasn’t an asshole he pretended to be… and he didn’t think this would drag so long. Haven’t you seen other girls? They fawn over him endlessly, buzzing around him & always eager to have a speck of his attention. This is what makes him pissed off, again.

“You think a lot for someone who’s as dumb as you.” He chuckled, jabbing at your self respect once more like it’s free reign. “Sorry, tell me what is it you need from me?” You just ignore everything he says and focus on one goal. For this hellish month to end so you are free from Satoru Gojo’s clutches. Though with the way he talks to you, it does seem like you could handle your mother taunting you for months about how stupid you are after giving him the money. At least… she’s blood.

“Hey” the next voice that echoed was Suguru. He was the best friend who was around him of course. You remember his gaze, it wasn’t pity towards you when Satoru practically bore you naked in the cafeteria by spilling water over your white shirt. It was rage, subjected for Satoru & Satoru alone.

Satoru raised his brow, “Don’t interfere where you’re not needed, Suguru.” He snapped, while the latter only smiled in an annoyingly calm manner. “Wasn’t talking to you.” He simply answered your bully, looking at you. “Welcome back, I thought you had left the school.” He smiled, giving you the same popsickle that Satoru had you fetch.

You didn’t take it from him, why is he so hell bent on making things worse for you? Though his act of kindness doesn’t go unnoticed. It was like rain on lava. Bubbling emotions rushing down as you couldn’t help but blink furiously to evade the tears you find coming. “N- no, I’m uh… okay. I was just sick.” You managed, gnawing at your lip and wanting the world to swallow you whole. People on their way to classes were already seeing you between the two hot-shots of the school.

“So you can cry huh?” Satoru laughed, almost in disbelief. This is what he wanted didn’t he? Anything said by Suguru which made you emotional had you snap back instantly. “Do you need anything from me or can I go to class?” You say with such hatred it’s truly shocking.

“Yeah, write one thousand times that you will not leave my side until I’m not finished talking.” Satoru says simply, oh he’s pulling off Suguru’s rage on you now.

“You don’t have to do shit- it’s-” before Suguru could say anything else, you nodded. “Mkay. Can I go to class now?”

Satoru gnawed at his lip, he didn’t want today to be like this. He really thought he could make some progress. “Yeah, handwriting can’t be shitty or you rewrite.” He pushed your boundaries once more, hoping to earn a reaction out of you yet again.

“Understood.” You nodded, walking away. Just two more weeks… just, two more weeks.

During the lunch time, you go to him naturally. “Heh, shouldn’t she sit on the floor?” One of his classmates smirked when you walked to him. Oh?

“Shouldn’t you lay down on the floor?” You asked him, before launching a kick right at his face, knocking him unconscious as he dropped down. Wow… everyone was stunned, including Gojo Satoru. Another reminder that he only has you on a leash because he played dirty, another reminder that you are different.

He snickered, of course he wouldn’t chide you for kicking some random asshole’s ass? He would’ve done the same. How he treats you is his problem. Though, you’re pissed, “This is what I didn’t want.” You looked at him, gritting your teeth. “You treating me like shit gives other people the right to treat me like shit.”

You were… wrong. This wouldn’t end after a month? What were you even thinking? There would be other people who would rise up after him to bother you. “I’ll get you the fucking money to shove far up your pathetic ass.” Here you go, losing it again…

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #gojo angst #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto fluff #jjk imagines #gojo imagines #gojo x y/n #jjk drabble #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader drabble #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

[vetteltea]

Daniel Ricciardo and Trying to get a Family Photo [no warnings]

Day 12 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

Note: This one was such a pleasure and so, so fun to write and it is solely dedicated to my soulmate, @a-distantdreamer. It is a genuine pleasure to speak to you every single day; thank you for having a whole notion board with me, dedicated to Danny Ric, Baby Badger & Bingo. I love you so, so much.

The sand of the beach felt warm underneath your feet, the Australian sun dancing across your features. Christmas cards were portrayed with layers of snow across quaint little villages, a stark contrast to the scenery which you were currently standing in. 

It had been a whirlwind choice to attend the holidays alongside the Ricciardo clan; having barely been dating four months, official for two and public to the world for zero, your stomach had originally dropped at the idea of being so far away from home for Christmas, instead surrounded by faces you had only briefly interacted with over a FaceTime call. 

Daniel would never have forced you to come, hands cradling either side of your face and dark eyes boring into yours, making you promise him you were okay with coming home for the holidays. He knew the risks; even though his parents were adamant you were such a lovely girl and were crawling the walls more than him to meet you, it meant traveling the world publicly; the followers were far from stupid, the moment they saw a beautiful young girl stood alongside him, everything would fall into place. 

Standing on the soft grains of Leighton Beach now, you couldn’t understand why you had been so nervous; Grace’s arms had pulled you so tightly into her chest when arriving to the family home, Issac tugging at your arm, insisting he had to show you his new bed because ‘Uncle Daniel had already seen it!’

You’d found out on Christmas Eve, whilst Joe was packing up one of the people-carriers, that it was a Ricciardo tradition to spend Christmas Day on the beach, with presents in the evening and tender kisses when Michelle and the children traveled to be with her husband’s family on Boxing Day. You’d been quick to jump up and assist with packing up the car, the patriarch of the family passing a loving comment that you had slotted into the family perfectly already. 

The fact was only highlighted further when you had been curled underneath a blanket alongside Daniel later on in the family room, glasses of wine held by most whilst you listened intently to the stories they felt you had to know. 

Come Christmas Day, the sun was glowing across the horizon, Daniel’s fingers had barely unlaced from yours, his family knowing he had never been this smitten from his previous partners and they could not seem to find a single fault with the wonderful girl he had brought home as his partner. 

“Everybody stay put!” Daniel’s voice had struck you from the traces of memory you had from the past four days. He stood further up the beach than the rest of you, attempting to set his camera up on a makeshift tripod, determined that after last years’ lack of a family photo, he would make up for it now. 

He’d planned it oh-so-meticulously; Grace and Joe stood in the middle, their new puppy that his father had gifted his mother sat at their feet. Michelle stood on one side, her husband’s arm wrapped around her waist. Issac and Isabelle stood either side of the new puppy, fighting every will they had not to bend down and cuddle the new family member. 

You had stood just out of frame, unsure of whether it was overly pushy to place yourself alongside the family; after all, it had only been a few months, the relationship wasn’t even public to the rest of the world. If Daniel had the desire to post this to the public, it would open an entire new world for you. Besides, even if your heart melted at the idea of being nestled into the family, there was no way-

“Timer is set! We’ve got ten seconds!” 

Your head snaps upwards, seeing a mass of dark curls and a gaudy Christmas shirt, identical to his father, nephew and brother-in-law sprint at you. A tanned hand snatches at your wrist, pulling you clumsily across the grains of sand and slipping into the gap on the opposite side of his sister. Daniel barely has time to adjust himself, wrapping both of his arms around you tucking you neatly underneath his chin, his grin sparkling as the shutter snaps, both of you smiling as if your childhood-self had found a room stocked with an infinite supply of candy. 

The moment after the photo is taken, the children are chasing after the puppy, Grace turning to Michelle to continue their previous conversation. Daniel’s hands are hesitant to unwrap from your frame, instead opting to look down, seeing your widened eyes and mouth slightly open. A look of concern laces across his face, one hand gently reaching down to trail against your cheekbone, taking in your appearance. 

“All good?” He cradles you closer, brushing the hair out of your face oh-so-delicately. “I didn’t…you’re all good, yeah?”

“Yeah-” You’re quick to respond. “I just…I didn’t think you’d want me in with…y’know, the family photo-”

 There’s zero chance of you finishing your sentence when your boyfriend leans in, pressing a hard kiss against your lips, almost as if he could convey everything he had felt for so long into one action. He’d never believed when his mother had told him he would know. That feeling never came with the previous girls he had bought home. It had lingered when he first set eyes on you, and now stuck like adhesive when you had slept in his arms for the first time. 

When he pulls away, his tanned forehead rests against your own, content as your breathing patterns synchronize, his grin returning, voice low; his next sentence is to be treasured by you, and you alone.

“You are family.” He murmurs. “You’re my family.” 

There’s no words that can fall from your lips, instead letting him pull you back into his chest, feeling him press a butterfly kiss to the top of your head, both of you tilting your gaze when seeing the two children sprint into the sea after the new puppy, his sister beckoning you over to come and look at something, Joe patting a hand onto his son’s back. Only 365 days until the next Christmas with your family.

#Daniel Ricciardo #DR3 #Daniel Ricciardo x Reader #Daniel Ricciardo Imagine #Daniel Ricciardo One Shot #Daniel Ricciardo x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Daniel Ricciardo Blurb #Daniel Ricciardo x Y/N

[detectivestucks]

Brat Taming

18+ Content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Summery: Modern AU Kakashi is your arrogant and creepy step brother. One night while your parents are out of town you come home from a night of partying only to find Kakashi in your room, ready to make you pay for all your cheeky comments

Warnings: NSFW, NONCON, Stepcest, Toxic Kakashi, brat taming, oral, fingering, unprotected penetration, choking, anal play, facial, hair pulling, harsh spanking, under age drinking.

Word Count: 4.6k

Anon Ask

When your mom married Sakumo three years ago you thought your Clueless fantasy was about to come true. Your new step brother, Kakashi, was stupid hot. He was blessed with a gorgeous angular face, deep brown eyes, thick silky silver hair and a mouthwatering scar over his left eye. He loved to walk around the house either in fitted muscle tanks or shirtless with only loose gray sweats, showing off his chiseled frame. On top of that he had big masculine hands with perfectly manicured fingers that you would daydream about grazing your most sensitive areas. He was going to be your Josh and you were Cher waiting for him to fall madly in love with you. 

Only it turned out he was a complete and total ass.

Soon after your parents got together he had been accepted to Harvard and loved to lord over everyone what a genius he is. You quickly grew a distaste for the prick and got cheeky whenever he felt the need to remind you of his superiority. 

Currently you are a freshman in college starting your second semester at UMass. You chose to live at home to keep your mom company since you didn’t like the idea of living in a tiny dorm room with some random roommate you didn’t know. Kakashi on the other hand, just got kicked out of the dorms last semester and was finishing his Junior year at home with you and your parents. 

It turns out you were not the only person he liked to mouth off to. He got into several arguments with many of his dorm mates and the RA. Eventually he was banned from on-campus housing and now you were left to suffer through daily interactions with the world's most annoying step brother. 

Always his insufferable self, recently Kakashi has been extra creepy. He seems to have forgotten what a shirt is and rarely had one on his back. Sometimes you thought you caught him palming himself out of the corner of your eye and you would catch him staring at you when you get ready to go out with your friends. Most annoyingly, sometimes he’d hang out in your bedroom when you were trying to get ready for bed.

“Can I help you?”

“Just making sure you’re not so brain dead that you forgot how to put on pants. I know it can be hard for some people.”

“Oh is that so? Cause I was just making sure you didn't forget how to shut your mouth. I know it can be hard for some people.”

“Careful, now. You should really mind who you’re speaking to that way.”

“Sorry, I don’t take kindly to creeps who think I’m too stupid to put on pants. Is that why they kicked you out? Cause you were trying to show girls how to put on their pants?”

Kakashi furiously charged up to you and got right in your face. You were scared but you weren’t gonna show him that. Instead you glare at him. 

“Watch it kid or you’ll find yourself in a world of trouble.”

“Threats don’t work with me big bro. Try again some other time.”

Angry, he left the room. Closing his door with a snap. 

It had been like this for weeks. His unwelcome presence always looming around. You hated the way he looked at you. It was like he was hunting for a reason to tear you down. Whether it was your degree, your ‘public university’ education, or your slutty outfit choices. The guy needed a life. Most of the time you’d quip back but sometimes you just didn’t have the energy and instead roll your eyes. Tonight was one of those nights. Sakumo and your mom were out of town on a romantic getaway so you were going out while Kakashi tried to lord over you as the ‘man of the house.’

“Ah you going to see your boy toy? You know you’re never going to get a respectable man dressed like that.”

“I’m not going to see any boy toy, I’m going out with my friends.”

You see him give a smug smirk at your answer

“Besides, it’s not up to you if I’m looking for a respectable man or not. Maybe I’m not looking for one at all.”

“So just looking to be a little whore. I see how it is.”

You glare at him before rolling your eyes.

“I’m out. See you later, loser.”

You catch Kakashi’s face paint in fury as you leave. He hated how you constantly try to undermine him. He hated that you were such a brat. And he truly hated how no one ever put you in your place. 

********************************************

You loudly came home at 2am from partying with your friends. You were a little inebriated and stumbled to the kitchen to get water before heading upstairs to bed. You make your way up the stairs, tripping over your high heels. You get to your bedroom and when you turn on the light you see Kakashi already laying in your bed. 

“Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“I have no problem. I’m not the one getting home at 2 am after a night of underage drinking.”

You were hit with a wave of sobriety at his words. If he told your mom, you’d be screwed. Seeing your expression, he knew he had you cornered. Kakashi stands up and walks past you as if he’s leaving the room, putting himself between you and the door before changing his mind and closing it.

“Remember when I said you should watch it?” 

He turns to you, taking a step forward. You begin to stumble backwards towards the bed.

“You’re such a filthy brat” he spits.

You continue to stumble backwards, your heels slipping off your feet. 

“And there's nothing I love more than putting a brat in her place.”

Your eyes widen in fear as you see a dark smile stretch across his face. Calves hitting the bed, you fall down to the floor and Kakashi weaves his strong hands into your hair, pulling it back so you’re forced to stare up at him. Your mind hazy, you begin to realize exactly how he imagines putting you in your place and it causes you to tremble. 

He tugs down his sweatpants and pulls out his length. Its weight slaps you in the face with a heavy thud. You flinch in his grasp but his fingers tighten in your locks as he begins beating you with his manhood.

“Drunk little girls like you don’t deserve to brush their teeth with a toothbrush. They only get to brush their teeth with cock. Now open that brat mouth for me.”

“No!”

Kakashi spits on your face. “I said open”

In your outrage you open your mouth about to hurl an insult at him when he shoved himself between your lips and pushed your head all the way down to his stomach. You were gagging and retching around him. You pushed against his thighs with all your might but your pathetic drunken arms were no match for his robust muscular physique. 

“That’s it. Choke on my cock you twerp.”

He groaned as he feels you constrict around his tip in an attempt to swallow air. Your eyes were tearing up from oxygen deprivation and your entire body was rigid in your struggle. He roughly pulls you up and down on him, pummeling your throat with a manhood much too large for your mouth. You feel your jaw lock as you open wide, tears falling freely from your eyes. 

He pulls you off of him and slaps your drool and tear drenched face. 

“Look at you. Just a little slut swallowing me so good. It seems college has at least taught you how to swallow dick so I guess your tuition has been put to good use.”

Your chest is heaving as you gulp down fresh air, seeing two of him with inebriated eyes while the pain of your hair being pulled registers in your hazy mind. 

“Again.”

He plummets into your mouth once more, fucking your face while you choke. Drool dribbling past your lips and down the front of your dress. He threatens you,

“Don’t even think about running to mommy. I’ll tell her all about how drunk you were and how you came onto me and you’ll be grounded and not allowed to see your little friends for the rest of the semester. Got it?”

He shakes your head with the hand grasping your hair. You whine ‘yes’ with a full mouth as you cry out from the pain. He retreats from your throat and you cough while he shoves you face down on your bed. He bends you over its edge, ass facing him. You desperately bring your hands to the back of your head, trying to pull off the hand tangled in your hair. He pushes you down into the mattress with force majeure and you sob from your dishonorable predicament.

“Resisting is futile little sis. This is what happens to brats who don’t know their place.”

He pulls up the skirt of your mini dress and yanks down your strappy thong. 

“Who are you wearing this slutty underwear for, huh? I thought you weren’t going to meet up with any boys” you hear a hum of amusement from his chest. “Did you wear this for me?”

“Fuck off” you choke.

“Ah, you see? You shouldn’t have said that.” He spreads your legs and brings his hand up to forcefully slap your sex. You yelp and flinch. 

“This is the very attitude I was talking about sis.” He slaps you again, this time harder.

“Someone’s gotta beat this out of you.” He slaps you again, this time with significant strength. 

Kakashi catches some arousal dripping out of you when he removes his hand from your folds. He lets out a chuckle. “Seems like you’re enjoying this.” 

His words burn you with embarrassment and reignite your struggles till he plunges his fingers inside of your gummy cunt. You gasp at his uninvited intrusion. He feels around, stroking in and out, coating his knuckles in your secretions. As he toys with you he hits your sweet spot and an involuntary groan spills past your lips. 

“Oh, you like that, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ but when he does it again you moan once more, walls tightening around his fingers. He pulls out of you and spanks your cheek causing you to cry. 

“You’re not supposed to enjoy it brat.” he snarls before sinking his fingers into you again. 

He maliciously milks your sweet spot, driving you to a crazed state. You struggle to refrain from moaning but if you fail and a cry slips past your lips be brings a heavy palm down on your rear with so much force that the red handprints quickly turn purple. He repeats the torturous process till you are thrashing in his grasp and he has to pull you up by your hair to pin you down on the bed with his body weight on top of you to stop your struggle. 

Kneeling on either side of your arms, weight on your chest, he can see the mascara run down your cheeks. He swells with pride seeing you made messy by his hands. He shoves himself back into your mouth. You kick and try to push him off of you but he has no patience for your misbehavior. He reaches behind himself and gives you a slap between your legs. 

Your resulting squeal vibrates along his shaft. A pleasured growl rumbles from his chest so he continues to reach around, beating against your cunt while he thrusts in and out of your mouth. 

Your fingers begin to dig into him, scratching up his legs as you desperately try to get him off of you. He rips himself from your mouth and grabs you by your wrists.

“You wanna play rough, sis? I can give you rough.”

He gives you a shit eating grin as he leans all his weight on your restrained wrists and uses his knees to spread your legs. You feel the heat of his length rub against your folds as he gets his body into position. You quickly realize you’re losing the war and he’s going to get exactly wants. You squirm and wiggle your hips trying to stop him from sinking in. In his frustration he pulls down the top of your dress and slaps your tit. You feel the sting as your arm goes to his chest but he quickly recaptures your wrist.

“Stop moving” he warns

“Fuck you loser!”

“Gladly”

The most sickening smile splits his face as he sinks himself deep into you. A loud groan is pushed out of you as he shoves your organs out of the way with his fat cock. 

“Wanna say that again?” he croons in your ear

You look up at him with doe eyes, not ready for how he is about to tear you apart and shake your head ‘no’

“That’s what I thought.”

He glides into you slow and deep, making sure you feel every vein as he violates you. He loves watching your eyes go wide every time he bottoms out, pausing to feel the full effect of him stuffing you. You whimper and groan stretched more than you thought possible, helplessly trapped. There was no running, no way out. You were alone and defenseless.

Nevertheless you struggle under his weight, trying to free your wrists. Annoyed by your incessant struggle he decides to bring them above your head and pin them together, freeing up his hand so he can grab your nipple, squeezing it between his index finger and thumb. You squirm as he applies pressure. 

“Keep resisting and see what happens” Kakashi threatens as he pulls up with your bud trapped in his pinch. You draw breath through your teeth, the pain consuming your thoughts. Not even registering that he hasn’t stopped rutting into you the entire time. 

“Gahh!”

“Understand?” You’re so focused on the pain in your nipple that all you do is whimper. “Answer me!” he barks with a twist of your nub

“Nggh! Fine!” Your eyes are screwed shut. You begin to open them when he releases your captive bud but you flinch when he slaps your tit again. 

He grabs your face, smushing your cheeks together. 

“See, I knew you could follow directions. That’s a smart girl”

You loathed him but you couldn’t help how your walls were restricting around him. His size massaged your sweet slit in such a gratifying way. Your body completely betrayed your mind. It seemed completely out of touch with the gravity of your situation. He left you breathless, your lungs forgetting how to breathe, as he pummeled into you. 

Anger on your mind, you watched him as he watched you. You pan over his stinging brown eyes, his angular features, and the mole that sits just below his drool inducing lips. He was hot and you hate him all the more for it. 

Disgust written on your mug as he studies you, anxiously waiting to watch you break. He picks up a little speed and you groan into it. You immediately regret the noise when you see a smug simper stretch on his face. You try to give him a glare but he hits you with a particularly sharp thrust and your face betrays you as your mouth falls open and your profile softens from pleasure. 

“I knew you were just a weak little slut.”

“Shut up.”

He slaps your face. “Wanna try that again?”

You attempt another glare at him but he thrusts up into you in a way that hits a sweet spot and you mewl for him.

“Ah! Thank you, ah.”

His chuckle makes your stomach twist as you realize what you said. 

“Ahh, she has manners.” condescension thick. You truly hate him.

He continues to thrust against the same spot making you pant under him. You cry pleasured screams from the sensation. He kept going, enjoying the view of you coming undone against your will. 

The sounds of your submission were getting a touch too loud. Trusting that you would behave, he strips off his shirt to reveal his well defined muscular frame beneath. He balls up the hem and shoves it in your mouth before returning a hand to your wrists, obediently still crossed together, waiting to be restrained again. 

You hated how good it felt. The recognition of him pleasuring you made you feel slimy on the inside, and desperate to get him off of you. He was your brother. Your arrogant asshole of a brother, yet he had you panting and crying beneath him. He was such a sick fuck. 

He gains speed. Beginning to bang the headboard into the wall. The sound thundering through the quiet night. Good thing the parents weren’t home to hear you cause he was beginning to lose his composure. He had been so careful to conceal his hunger but it was evident in his eyes that he was wild with lust. You sing into your gag, eyes beginning to roll back into your head. His unrelenting pace, his careful aim, and his grunts combined into a euphoric melody that had you spasming around him, calling his name through the gag. Your body stiffened as the orgasm tore through you.

“That’s a good brat. See how good it is to behave?”

You dumbly nod your head as the aftershocks course through your system. He strokes slowly allowing you to fall limp before he barks at you again.

“Get on your knees” he says, lifting his weight off of your wrists. He helps you flip over on your stomach and his hands pull up your hips so they are aligned with his pelvis. You attempt to support your weight on your arms when he pushes your head back down, roughly shoving you into the mattress. 

“Brats get fucked like whores. Lift your slut face off the sheets and there will be consequences..”

You cry out as you obey his command. He pushes in just the tip and you anxiously close around it before he pulls out again. You hate the way you whined from how empty you felt. He pushes in just a little deeper before retreating again, toying with you to prove his point. This time when he begins to line up his tip you rock your hips all the way back so he ‘s buried inside of you. You hadn’t anticipated how the angle would overstimulate you and you gasp about to pull away but his hands grab your hips and hold you steady. He begins to chuckle. 

“Such a twerp, complaining about something you did to yourself.”

You loathe yourself for how you sought him out just now. He was assaulting you and you were practically begging him to fill you. It was all a game to him and your pathetic response was exhilarating.

He  brings his hand down on your backside that was already bruised and purple from his earlier battery. You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, cries muffled by his shirt. He strikes you more. Every time you try to tuck your tail under to avoid the abuse he pushes down on your back. You were not running away from him. You were a mouse trapped in the maze. 

He begins to ram into you, the plush tissue of your behind rippling violently as his hips collide into you on repeat. Your fingers spread and grip onto your duvet for dear life as he bullies himself deep into you. 

You can’t handle the feeling. He’s too big! You lift yourself up trying to change the angle, trying to find relief, when his formidable hands sweep across your neck and choke you. He pulls you up just enough that your arms couldn’t reach the mattress and your entire body weight was supported by his grip on your neck. His hands sink into your trachea with every plummet into your slick cavern. 

You claw at his hands on your neck, trying to get under his fingers to lift the pressure from your windpipe so you could breathe. Your attempts were futile. Eventually your hands grip his wrists, giving up on being allowed to breathe.

“I told you not to lift your face. Here I thought you were learning your lesson.”

Seeing the gag start to fall out of your mouth, he lifts one hand off your neck to stuff it deeper before returning it to your throat. You spasm around him, tears spilling from your eyes, back involuntarily bowing, allowing him to push against your diaphragm. He knocked the wind out of you without allowing you to catch your breath. His cruelty leaves you putty in his hands, pliable and bending to his will. Gushing around his girth, broken and winded.

“Now you’re starting to get the picture.”

Pleasured cries permeate through the fabric in your mouth. He doesn’t plan on letting up any time soon either. He’s enjoying the view too much. Your glutes shake with each thrust while they’re spread wide open. He hones in on your puckered rear when he remembers what he found when he was snooping in your room. 

He pulls out of you and grabs you around the waist, pulling your back into his cut chest, possessively holding you so you can’t run away as he drags you across the bed where he can reach into your nightstand drawer. He pulls out your tiny black plug with a blue gem on the end. You look over and through your dazed state you realize what he grabbed and you start to protest. 

“No, no, no, no” you say through the cloth.

He shoves you down pulling your hips up once more and shoving your face back into the bed so your cries cannot be heard. His spit falls onto your rear, pooling over your sphincter where he pushes down on the tapered tip of your plug. You begin to wail.

“What’s all the fuss for? This is your’s, is it not? I thought whores liked having their holes stuffed.”

You tried pulling away but his grip on your hips tightened and he slammed back into you enjoying the friction of where the plug encroached on the space in your tunnel. 

You looked so beautiful with the blue gem protruding out of your dirty hole. He was definitely going to do this to you again. He was going to make you beg him for it once he was done putting you in your place. 

The thought of you coming to his room, plug in place, to get another taste of his fat cock made him ravenous. He rails into you using every drop of athleticism he has. You start to scream and go dizzy. His heavy balls slap into the bundle of nerves swelling between your legs. Eventually they swing into you with so much voracity that you twitch with each stroke of his hips. Your face began to melt into the mattress from his pounding and you are certain he will break your neck from the force. 

He flips you over, pushing your hips up so your knees are by your face, ass high in the air. He stands on the bed and sinks himself between your lips, thrusting down into you with all his might. Abdominals flexing with each thrust, passionate grunts bending you in half. The impossible positions shredding what was left of your once tight pussy. 

“Take it little slut.”

He can see the helpless tears leak from your eyes as you feel every inch of him being swallowed up by your soiled cunt. 

“Fuck Kakashi” you moan between labored breaths. 

He smirks. He had you just where he wanted you. He only needed to push you over the edge. He reached down and begins whirling circles around your clit. You shriek and knock your knees together. But his silky chuckle cuts your mind like a knife. The fucker was laughing at you. You squirm but your current position was so compromising you couldn’t move. He plays with you rubbing more vigorously. You scream and holler under him unfamiliar with such intensity as this.

“Ple-Pl-ease” you dumbly whine. 

“Please what, sis? You’ll need to speak up”

“M-may I c-cu-mm?”

He pounds into you without relenting. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that”

He was such an abhorrent ass but the heat in your lower belly was boiling over and you needed to release. You try to phish your voice from the back of your mind but it’s swimming and the way he drags along your ridges while swirling your sensitive bud has you desperate for him. 

“Gah! Please l’me cum!”

The glint in his eyes sickened you but you didn’t have the strength to care as he readjusted his stroke to pound into the sweet spot he found earlier. Your entire body convulsed under him as you had the most intense orgasm of your life. 

Kakashi, pleased with his successful session of taming you, feels his own gratification on its precipice.

He pulls out of your quaking cunt with a slap to your sensitive clit causing your hips to fall to the mattress with a cry. Your destroyed state was erotic. Helplessly shaking, sweat all over your body, dress bunched around your stomach, hair knotted and messy, ass still plugged and tears drenching your face. His fingers seek out your hair to hold you still while he paints your face white. 

“That’s a good girl. Take your reward.”

You tremble in his arms. When his seed can no longer shoot from his tip and simply oozes from his slit Kakashi presses himself against your lips. You part them slightly to give it a kiss leaving him to shutter from sensitivity. 

“Yes, very good”

He brushes your cheek with his thumb pad smearing his cum along your skin. You look up at him pathetically and he smiles down on you. 

“There we go sweet sister. That’s much better.”

You make a little whine that he finds so precious. 

“Go clean yourself up little one.” he pets your head before pulling on his sweatpants and tucking himself away. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to join me if you want.” 

He grabs his shirt, throwing it over his shoulder before lacing both hands together behind his head as he walks away. 

Your lip quivers as you entertain the idea, realizing you were hopelessly hooked.

Shakily you get up, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and walk naked to the bathroom. Kakashi glances over from his bed as he sees you through the crack in his bedroom door before exhaustion lulls him to sleep. 

He wakes up a half hour later to your weak-willed body slipping into his bed completely naked. He opens his arms, letting you settle into his chest before he closes them around you. You exhale with a small sigh and in your mind you know you would be yearning for the next time the two of you are home alone so he could tie you up and brutally defile you again. 

He plants a kiss on your forehead, mind flooded with gratification at finally breaking you down into such a needy state. 

He reaches down between your cheeks to see you kept your plug in tact. He gives it a small tug and you look up at him with a whine. He nuzzled your nose and whispers to you in his silky smooth voice before gently pressing a kiss on your lips. 

“Such a filthy brat”

Masterlist

#kakashi x reader #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake #kakashi senpai #kakashi is daddy #kakashi fanfiction #hatake kakashi #hatake smut #kakashi romance #dark kakashi #kakashi x you #reader x kakashi #mean kakashi #anon ask #kakashi modern au #noncon smut #dark smut

[countycashew54]

GUYS IM WRITING FANFIC

Caught-AlastorxLucifer fic

Also please remember this is my FIRSTT attempt at writing so... if you yell at me I will cry.

Waking up after a one-night stand is rough.

Waking up after a one-night stand with the Radio Demon proved to be just as horrific, if not more. Only the difficult nature of this wake up had little focus on Alastor at all. In fact, the opposite.

See, when you wake up to your daughter and her entire hotel, residents and staff, (although that's not saying much) barging into your room while you're in bed with the man who is also trying to parent your daughter; you're bound to have an extremely, painstakingly rough morning.

"Dad we can't fin- oh. OH-wo- that is jus-... Dad is that- Alastor?" Charlie was very clearly fighting to keep her shock and disgust off of her face, with a forced smile. Whether it was from seeing her father and her hotelier in bed together or the state of unclothed said men were in remained to be seen.

"Morning Deer!" Alastor smiled, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Shit- Charlie, sweetie, this isn't what it looks like, I mean we- he-"

"NO- I mean, no need to explain dad! I am super happy to see you guys are finally…getting along! In fact, I am SO happy about it that I am going to create an activity for our patrons focused on making friendships and boundaries! You know maybe you two could be the ones to lead the activity and-" Charlie's shock-toned voice began to trail off as she was slowly walked away from the room by Vaggie, who managed to glare threateningly at them both with her one eye.

Seconds, minutes?, passed by with Alastor adjusting his hair as if nothing just occurred, while Lucifer was engaged in a reluctant stare down with Husk, Angel, Niffty, and Sir Pentious.

Angel was the one to break the standoff, a wide grin on his face.

"So I guess now I know why Smiles wasn' intrested in gettin' a sample of all o' this," a lewd gesture to his legs by one set of hands, and a scrunch of his chest fluff with the other, "when I offered huh?"

Alastor narrowed his eyes at the spider while Lucifer began to feel a golden glow coming to his cheeks, "A-and why would that be? exactly?"

"ain't it obvious? Al clearly got a kink for short kings wit' more power than he's used to, I don' fit the bill on either o' those."

"I think you will suffice to close your mouth before you end up caught in your own web, Pest." The Radio Demon's eyes had begun to darken to black as his antlers grew steadily.

"HA! He's only mad cus' I totally got it right! Huskie-baby you owe me twenty bucks!"

"Yeah, yeah let's get out of here before he decides you're his next meal," Husk had begun pushing Angel away in almost the same manner Vaggie had with Charlie.

Another moment of silence ticked by..

"Ssso-" Pentious was cut off by Lucifer's growl.

"LEAVE. please," horns and scarlet eyes flared.

As Pentious fled, Niffty awaited instruction from Alastor, who then nodded to release her from her stand still. Once she was out of the doorway Lucifer slammed the door closed with a flick of the wrist, falling back into the pillows with a groan.

Alastor had returned to his usual form, still sitting upright he glanced towards Lucifer, "well that was an entertaining start to the morning."

Lucifer ripped himself upright to glare at the man, "what part of making our little night of fun known to the entire hotel, to my daughter, was entertaining to you?"

"Why the overwhelming discomfort from all parties involved of course," He then leaned forward to whisper, "you included, my darling, you now know how much I love to watch you squirm."

Lucifer froze as the words processed through his brain and sent chills down his body. His eyes slightly crossing as he gazed at the sinner with shocked lust.

As Lucifer was processing, the demon had already stood from the bed and snapped his clothing back into pristine condition with the use of his shadows, "I do hope to see you at this morning's breakfast, the tense atmosphere that our daughter facilitates won't be the same without you, mon ange."

With a swift kiss to Lucifer's cheek the sinner was out the door, humming a radiostaticed tune that sounded vaguely from the 30's.

Lucifer stayed still for a moment, calming his body down while also wondering what had just happened. A jolt came to him when he realized, “WAIT, OUR DAUGHTER?”

Once again, please be nice to me this is my first time writing anything so I literally winged it. Hope you guys enjoyed it :,)

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #radioapple #fanfic #ao3 #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel lucifer #appleradio #angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin sir pentious #fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne

[yourmidnightlover]

wash my hair?

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: reader risks their life for xavier and now needs his help with a trivial everyday task.

warnings: readers hair is in a bun and is inferred to be a bit longer, shower/implied nudity at one point, brief descriptions of fainting/blacking out, readers a bit messed up

a/n: this is very much based on the fact that i just want someone to wash my hair for me :) this is super duper short but i wanted to write something simply because i felt like it so i did. enjoy <3

“can you wash my hair?” your voice rang out to xavier while he was painting as you peaked out from the bathroom door.

you see, you weren’t needy. well, you are but that’s not why you needed him to wash your hair.

“yea,” he nodded as he set his brush down. “of course i will.”

a few days ago you had the genius idea of trying to protect xavier, your best friend of seven years, against that ancient zombie mummy guy whose name you can’t even be bothered to remember.

after stepping in front of the arrow, the one you thought would merely pierce your right shoulder, you were shocked to feel a stabbing pain in your gut, and not like the ones you were used to feeling every month. your hand went to grab at the arrow, still in shock and out of breath before you not-so-gracefully fell to the ground.

xavier ran to your side, cradling your head as his hand went to snap the arrow. you could see his mouth moving, but, truth be told, you couldn’t hear a thing. all you could hear was your heart beating and pumping your blood. the rhythm filled your ears as you simply felt your chest get heavier and heavier until you couldn’t even see his mouth moving anymore.

all you saw was darkness.

“thanks,” you backed into the bathroom and stepped into the shower once more.

your parents were practically nomads. they were never home and never wanted to be home. while they cared about you, they cared about their project going on in tokyo even more.

you didn’t want to be alone. you couldn’t really be alone, either, because of your injuries. so, xavier invited you to his house for the abrupt break. of course, his dad was reluctant to invite the girl who saved his own son because he was “too cowardly to save himself.”

eventually, he came to terms with the fact that he would likely never see you around the house, given that he wouldn’t be around much if at all.

luckily for you, you didn’t have to wash your hair. you assume one of the nurses who washed you did that for you. thinking about that happening was embarrassing. but, it needed to happen.

xavier was a frequent visitor before you were discharged due to an influx of patients from a flu breakout, but you never talked about why you did it. why you risked your life for him. granted, you would give him the usual “you’re my best friend” bullshit if he did ask, but it left a tension in the air that seemed thicker than the terrible chowder that the school has offered.

regardless, the time has come for you to wash it once more. your stupid stitches and sore abdomen rendered the typically simple task, rather difficult. washing your body was easy with the handy loofah on a stick that xavier had provided, but you couldn’t manage to massage your own scalp for long enough to truly clean it.

you hated that you needed help. you hated that you could stand in front of an arrow days ago but now you’re so useless you can’t even properly clean yourself.

“you ready?” his voice was soft, almost a whisper over the sound of water hitting your ears and blocking your senses.

at first you nodded before sounding off, “ye-yea,” you wrapped your arms tighter around your torso that was only covered by a small, soaking wet towel.

you heard him pull back the curtain and step inside the shower. you didn’t want to turn and face him. you didn’t want him to see you so pathetic.

you’d always been a proud person. you loved the fact that you could take care of yourself and others without the blink of an eye. whether it be helping someone study or getting them out of trouble with a teacher, everyone could count on you. you liked it that way. you didn’t like it as much when you had to become almost belittled by everyday tasks like bathing.

you felt his hand touch your shoulder first, probably to assure you that he was there, even though you already knew. just like he knew you hadn’t slept in the days after the incident. he worked at the hair-tie that had been holding your bun together surprisingly well.

once finishing working it out, messing with the tangles and trying not to hurt your scalp, he whispered: “you uhh- you need to turn around. to get your hair wet.” you were silent. “i can turn around, if that makes it-“

“no,” you took a deep breath. “it’s fine i can-i can turn around,” you nodded to reassure yourself before slowly turning around in the water, your eyes fixed shut.

you could feel his gaze on you for what felt like hours before he began to lather your head with the soapy suds. the way his fingers massaged your scalp so tenderly nearly brought tears to your eyes. you didn’t even notice when your ended up resting your head on his chest as he continued to massage your scalp.

he stepped back with you underneath the stem of the water, allowing you to stay connected to his bare chest as he worked the suds from your hair. you wrapped your arms around him suddenly, disregarding the towel that was once covering your body. at first, you could feel his body tense before reacting to your hug. his arms wrapped around your shoulders firmly as he sighed into the top of your head.

“i thought you were gonna die, y/n,” you could hear the waver in his voice before you realized the tears that were in your eyes were threatening to spill over. “it was gonna be my fault, too. i never-i never left your side once they let me. i just… i can’t imagine my life without you. ever.”

“i’m-im sorry,” you sniffled as you nuzzled into his body once more, letting yourself freely cry in his arms as sobs overtook your body. “i’m so, so sorry, xavier.”

he let you cry and whine and whimper to your hearts content as he applied the conditioner to your hair. once he felt you settle down, he pulled back from your arms, his eyes not leaving your own.

“you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he shook his head as his hands went to cradle your face. “you saved my life, risked your own. i-i owe you everything.”

“no,” you shook your head as your hands grasped his own. “i made you worry. i didn’t think about what i was doing! i should’ve been more careful or… i don’t know! i just couldn’t let you die.”

“but you’d let yourself die?” you nodded. “why?”

“why do you think?” you sniffled once more as you finally looked up into his eyes.

“say it… please?” you could see his adams apple moving with the hard gulp he swallowed.

“i love you.”

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe hurt/comfort #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier x reader #xavier imagine #xavier fluff #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe fanfiction #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix

[simplyender]

You previously mentioned that Johnathon probably had a less than ideal childhood. If you are still in the mood for headcanons, would you mind sharing your thoughts on his upbringing/childhood/adolscence? The good, the bad, whatever comes to your mind. Thank you! (I wonder if he was still roommates with Quentin Beck in the movieverse)

Thank you so much for asking!!!! Sorry about taking so long to respond, work has been exhausting for me, and I really want to give my best answer, hence why I stew over asks quite a bit, lol

ANYWAY,

• Apparently, The Spot from the comics is originally from Spokane. Yeah, I'll incorporate that one in to my personal beliefs.

• He reads to me as having come from an upper-middle-ish class family.

• Only child, but his parents were frequently busy with their jobs, and when they were around, they didn't exactly have or bother to make the time for him.

• Pretty judgemental parents in general.

• Despite that, he still spent a fair amount of time trying to prove himself worthy of their attention, a difficult task with...Mixed results, mostly leaning towards failure.

• One of my friends was once like "There was definitely a time where he wanted to show them something he made and got snapped at for bothering them.", and yeah I totally agree with that.

• Over time he became more reclusive, spent more time in his room than anywhere else. He preferred reading, learning to code, and working on his own little projects over socializing, something he wasn't all too skilled at. It wasn't like there was much to socialize with at home, anyways, considering he would either be ignored or treated like a nuisance a solid 90% of the time.

• This was a double edged sword, though, since he'd also been yelled at for "being in his room all the time" a few times.

• Was used as a scapegoat quite often.

• After a certain point he moved on to trying to get his validation through other means. High grades, impressive science projects, plans to become a scientist and making the biggest damn breakthrough ever seen, do something that will change the world forever. Because then nobody could ignore him or treat him like he's less if he managed that.

• But obviously they're not the worst in his mind because they helped pay for college, so,,,,,,

edit: actually thought about this some more and he probably got a scholarship. oops lol idk high academics.

• Saw the 1933 Invisible man at a young age and absolutely loved it, he spent a short period of time trying to figure out how to make himself invisible, and kind of wished that dr. Jack Griffin was his real dad and that also maybe he'd kill his parents, healthy and not worrying thoughts from a probably 8 year old. It's been around 25+ years since then, but he'd still get seriously embarrassed if somebody brought up his old attempts.

• Had a massive growth spurt in his early teenage years, which automatically put a target on his back for even more bullying.

• Started experimenting with his fashion and putting some more work in to his appearance close to the end of high school. Still sucked at keeping up with haircuts and remembering to shave, though.

• Was probably at his peak in college, honestly. Nicest place he's been in. Least bullying he's experienced. He even made a friend or two!

• IMO he was totally roommates with Quentin in this universe too, they were on different tracks, but all in all, they got along pretty well! John was happy to help him with with whatever he was working on, although, John mostly kept his personal stuff to himself (still appreciated the extra hand with carrying things...), or at least tried to. Whether he was listened to or not is another matter entirely. When they collaborated, they were a real dream team. Unfortunately, they kinda fell out of contact after college, so it was a pretty big surprise to John when Mysterio got caught and it was released that his old college roommate had become a supervillain.

....Which only further entrench him in the "I'm meant to be Spider-Man's nemesis" mindset, by the way.

#the spot #atsv #johnathon ohnn #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #headcanons #character analysis #i guess? #whenever i thought abt the growth spurt hc id hear those lyrics from 'danny dont you know' #'you had a growth spurt and you're suddenly 6'2“.... #the girls are steering clear #you walk like a newborn deer....' #thats him #anyway im still open to asks just expect me to take along time coming up w an answer #oh right bruef mention of #quentin beck #yippee

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 2 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Ronan Lynch

Uhh fun fact he saw the devil flash his father once, and that's one of the reasons he goes to church on Sundays <3

context for this scene from book 2: ronan is in church with his older brother declan, younger brother matthew, and ghost friend noah "Joseph Kavinsky isn’t someone I want you being around,” Declan added. “Don’t snort. I’m serious.” Ronan merely invested a look with as much contempt as he could muster. A lady reached over the top of Noah to pat Matthew’s head fondly before continuing down the aisle. She didn’t seem to care that he was fifteen, which was all right, because he didn’t, either. Both Ronan and Declan observed this interaction with the pleased expressions of parents watching their prodigy at work. Declan repeated, “Like, actually dangerous.” Sometimes, Declan seemed to think that being a year older gave him special knowledge of the seedier side of Henrietta. What he meant was, did Ronan know that Kavinsky was a cokehead. In his ear, Noah whispered, “Is crack the same thing as speed?” Ronan didn’t answer. He didn’t think it was a very church-appropriate conversation. “I know you think you’re a punk,” Declan said. “But you aren’t nearly as bad ass as you think you are.” “Oh, go to hell,” Ronan snapped, just as the altar boys broached the rear doors. “Guys,” Matthew pleaded. “Be holy.”

Gay Catholic streetracing farmer. Consumed by catholic guilt NOT because of the gay thing but because he can Create things in a way he thinks should be only God's business. Will literally roll up to mass on sunday morning still drunk and bloody.

THIS GOTH KID IS LITERALLY GOD. This is a god trapped in the body of a Catholic teen and if he ever stopped feeling Catholic guilt he’d end the world!!. How is your confession every week that you creating a whole new being? Babygirl the God is coming from inside the house

eldritch entity from beyond the mortal plane wants to be a Real Human Boy, becomes a real (ish!) human (ish!) boy, goes to mass every sunday

Gay boy got his crush an apartment above his church so he could have his two favorite things in one place

gay. I'm not caught up the the series but I went through the tag when the latest book came out and I remember seeing a quote that said he worried if his boyfriend would make it to heaven when he dies because of his agnostic tendencies.

Kid is like a dream warlock who creates psychic horrors and never goes to confession because why would he? and he’s gay

There are no words

basically ronan's powers are inherited from his dead father niall and it means he can bring anything from a dream into real life. so he's got this whole crisis about whether he is a living piece of blasphemy because men are not meant to have the powers of gods or whether he literally is god. which is not acceptable to him for a number of reasons but mostly because he hates himself. his love interest's name is adam and adam lives in a small apartment above a church which the book says focuses the objects of his worship neatly into one building. I love them both dearly. also, this entire page makes me feel like I'm going insane. Ronan Lynch believed in heaven and hell. Once, he’d seen the devil. It had been a low, late morning at the Barns when the sun had burned off the mist and then burned off the chill and then burned the edges off the ground until everything shimmered with heat. It never got hot in those protected fields, but that morning, the air sweated with it. Ronan had never seen cattle pant before. All of the cows heaved and stuck their tongues out as they frothed with the heat. His mother sent Ronan to put them in the shade of the cattle barn. Ronan had gone to the searing metal gate, and as he did, he’d glimpsed his father, already in the barn. Four yards away from him had stood a red man. He was not truly red, but the burned orange of a fire ant. And he was not truly a man, because of the horns and the hooves. Ronan remembered the alienness of the creature, how real it had been. Every costume in the world had gotten it wrong; every drawing in every comic book. They’d all forgotten that the devil was an animal. Looking at the red man, Ronan had been struck by the intricacy of the body, how many miraculous pieces moved smoothly in harmony, no different than his own. Niall Lynch had had a gun in hand — the Lynches had an enormous number of guns of all sizes — and just as Ronan had opened the gate, his father had shot the thing about thirteen times in the head. With a shake of its horns, the unharmed devil had presented its genitalia to Niall Lynch before bounding off. It was an image that had yet to leave Ronan. And so Ronan became a reverse evangelist. The truth burst and grew inside him, and it was laid upon him to share it with no one. No one was meant to see hell before they get there. No one should have to live with the devil. So many homilies on faith were ruined once you no longer required it for belief.

Friar Tuck

If you use the picture of furry friar tuck from the Disney Robin Hood, bless you 🙏

#Ronan Lynch #the raven cycle #raven cycle #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #friar tuck #robin hood

[lukeevangelista]

can u do “You can cut me, bruise me and skin me alive, but you will not take her from me.” with luca please?? 🫶

Approval - Luca Fantilli

*gif not mine*

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Your parents weren’t fans of Luca. At all.

You didn’t know why and you couldn’t get an answer from them on why either.

“He’s a hockey boy. He’ll just break your heart.” That was the only answer you could get from your mom, time and time again.

You were currently getting ready to over to your parents for dinner, Luca attending as well, much to your parents disapproval.

“I don’t have to go.” Luca sighed as he watched you get ready from your bed.

“You’re going. Final answer.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled out a black dress and a navy dress. Both were flowy and casual. It had minimal lace going down the arms and buttons on the back of it. “Which one?”

“The black.” He said, “I just don’t want to feel unwelcome.” He continued, “I’m just nervous there going to say something and cause you to snap.”

He knew they were starting to irritate you with their constantly belittling of your sweet boyfriend.

And he also knew you could only take so much of it before you’d snap.

“It’ll be fine Lu.” You said as you slipped out of your pajamas, throwing on your bra and underwear before tossing the dress on, “Button me?” You asked as you swept your hair off your back and turning around to give Luca better access.

He got off the bed, doing as you asked. His hands rested on the sides of your arms, his face in the crook of your neck.

“It’ll all be fine.” You said as you brought your hand up the to nape of his neck, twirling the small tuffs of hair at his hairline, “I promise.”

**

It, in fact, was not all fine.

The moment you showed up with Luca in tow, your parents had an absolute fit.

Nothing your siblings or you said helped calm them down; they were just pissed he was there after they had made it abundantly clear that they did not want him there.

Not in their house and most certain not with their daughter.

The night had went on and honestly, it seemed like it got worse every minute. Either something snarky was said by your parents about Luca or he did something that made them roll their eyes or glare at him.

Everything about him seemed to just piss them off.

“I want him out.” Your dad said, “He doesn’t deserve you. You can do so much better Y/N. I want him out and I want whatever this little thing between you two is to end.”

“What- no!” You defiantly said, “I am not breaking up with him because you think you know what’s best; when in reality, you don’t!” You hissed, “He’s made me a better human. He’s probably the best thing to happen to me since I transferred to Michigan!”

Luca stood up, facing your dad. Taking in a deep breath, he didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth and whether it was going to cause this situation to get worse or better.

“You can cut me, bruise me and skin me alive, but you will not take her from me.” Luca said, “I absolutely adore your daughter. I have for a long time- since I met her. Hell, I might even be in love with her, but I’m not going to let you interfere with our relationship because you don’t like me.” He started, “I can’t lose her. Not like this.”

“That’s a little extreme Lu.” You softly chuckled, immediately shutting up when you saw the look your parents were giving you, “C’mon Luca, we’ll go somewhere where we’re wanted.”

Your mom and dad looked towards each other, their eyes widening at your comment once they realized you were serious about bailing on dinner.

They knew they had fucked up and pushed you too far with this.

“Wait.” Your mom held up her hand, “Don’t leave.”

“Why would we stay where we’re not wanted?” You asked, “I can’t do this anymore mom. I’m not going to sit here as you judged the boy I’m in love with.”

“You’re in love with me?” Luca asked as he turned around, seeing you blushing.

“Well yeah.” You grinned, “I wouldn’t be here fighting for my parents to approve of you if I didn’t.”

Your mom let out a sigh as her eyes darted between you and Luca.

“After hearing that, I think we may have been a little too harsh on him.”

“A little?” You all but shouted at them, “I can’t believe it took him saying that for you to realize not every athlete is a bad guy!”

“I know.” Your mom said, “and I think we realize that now.” She sighed, “I know we don’t deserve it for how we treated you Luca, but if you’d give us the opportunity to get to know you, we love to.” Your mom begged, “We just want what’s best for our girl.”

“I understand that, but I don’t appreciate you judging me without even knowing me.” He said, “but I would be okay with that, only for her though. I want to make that very clear.” He said, pointing towards you.

“Absolutely crystal clear.” They nodded.

Throughout the night, the tension in the room dissipated and by the end of it, your dad and Luca were laughing together. Luca was helping your mom out with dishes, talking to your sister about something you had never heard of, and joking around with your older brother.

Luca held your coat behind you as you slipped your arms through it, “I’m going to go start the car.” He said as he took the keys from you, “Take your time.”

He walked out the front door, telling your family goodbye as you turned around the face them.

“We were wrong.”

“About?”

“Oh you know what.” Your dad chuckled.

“I just wanted to hear you say it.” You said as you walked towards them, giving them all hugs, “I told you he wasn’t a bad person. I’m glad you finally see that.”

#luca fantilli #soft thoughts w/ari #luca Fantilli imagine #aris 1k celly

[mrzombielover]

Hi could you please write some relationship headcanons for Tuco Salamanca? Both sfw and nsfw please :)

ohmy goshh anon u are wild for this tuco scaresssss me 😭

NSFW warning, toxic relationships, lotta drug use, canon typical violence (it’s tuco what do we expect)

SFW

When Tuco likes someone, he is all in. He is so obsessive and expects you to be 10000% loyal and devoted to him

He’s impulsive and spontaneous, will randomly insist on taking you on drives/trips at 3AM, especially when he’s high

fantasizes about taking you away to live on a ranch in mexico. if you don’t speak spanish, you’ll learn, no worries

reallyyyy wants a family. would go feral if he saw you interacting with his family- taking care of his grandparents, playing with his younger nieces/nephews- it makes him weak in the knees

likes to keep his work and domestic life separate. goes to great lengths to hide the ugly side of his work with you

of course, you know, but you’ll never have to see or meet anyone from his work if he can help it. you’ll never have to clean blood from his shirt or a carpet, he’ll take care of it.

fantasizes about protecting you 24/7. sleeps with a gun on the beside table just in case- and he’s never had to use it, but if it ever does he’s so prepared.

he knows the world is full of men who’d hurt you. who’d harass you, traffic you, drug you. he imagines himself taking care of it. shooting, strangling, breaking the bones of any scumbags who’d come near you.

on that note he is extremely jealous and possessive!!!

and you know he’s not all talk, either. would prefer if you didn’t witness it, but he’d happily violently take care of any guy who made you even remotely uncomfortable

has some lowkey stalker tendencies. not that he doesn’t trust you, just that he knows that being with him puts a target on your head. likes to tail you, it’s his idea of keeping you safe from a distance. plus, it’s kind of nice to see you naturally, whether you’re shopping or getting food or running- you just look so cute

has a surprising sweet side. yeah, he’ll manipulate and guilt trip and snap at you sometimes, but you gotta know he doesn’t mean it. when he wants to, he can totally spoil you. loves to throw his money at you, and see the look on your face when he buys you something you’ve really been wanting.

likes when you have to rely on him. it’s a bit twisted, but if you’re really drunk or high, or sick and weak, he’s happy to take care of you.

“aww, shh, chiquitita, it’s okay, i’ll take care of you, don��t worry your pretty head about it,”

NSFW

Insanely high sex drive. you can barely keep up! his hands are on you every chance he gets

loooooves high sex. would much prefer if you use, too, but it’s not vital. when he’s already on cloud fucking 9, adrenaline coursing through his veins, all he wants is you. to inhale your intoxicating scent as he pounds into you from behind.

so into rough sex. of course, he would never hurt you! but takes pride in the deep bruises left by his hands, the hickeys on your neck, bite marks on your collarbones, etc

could never be submissive i think. but he enjoys a struggle for power, he likes someone that can throw his energy back in his face, it keeps it interesting

remember when i said he really wants a family?? you guessed it he has a humongous breeding kink! doesn’t like cumming anywhere except inside you. then he pats your head and kisses your forehead and tells you you’ll be a wonderful parent

likes body worship, both ways. he knows he’s not going to heaven, but seeing you on your knees, begging for him comes pretty close. he always returns the favor, of course, his abuela taught him to be a gentleman

also very into overstimulation. partly stems from his insanely high sex drive. he just loves making you come completely undone for him, until your brain doesn’t work anymore and your legs are jello and you’re crying. he’ll lick your tears off your cheeks and tell you “just one more, i know you can do it,”

gives surpassingly good aftercare if he has the time. unless he had to make do with a quickie, sex with him lasts a looong time, and you’re both completely spent by the end. he likes to take baths after, he’ll massage your sore skin and tells you what a good job you did for him and how sweet you are

has this ultimate fantasy of fucking you while covered in the blood and brains of some inferior asshole who tried to hurt you in some way. he’ll show you how safe you are with him

#tuco salamanca x reader #am i a tuco fucker now? #anon you might’ve converted me #you know i love fucked up men #!not sfw #!my stuff #tw unhealthy relationship #breaking bad x reader #better call saul x reader #tuco salamanca

[strawberrysodaslut]

tasm!peter parker x fem reader enemies/rivals to lovers? maybe with some smut at the end?

My Rival - Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

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[ main masterlist ]

[ peter parker masterlist ]

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all of my smut and other nsfw posts are 18+

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word count: 2k

warnings: smutty smut, fingering, titty worship, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) rivals to lovers, peter being a softie

summary: you and peter had been bitter rivals for years, but when your respective families grow sick of your bickering and send the two of you on a camping trip, you discover where that resentment really comes from

a/n: loved this request, it fit really well with day 4 of my writing challenge! this is also the second story i’ve written today so i’m feeling super proud of myself.

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Peter Parker was a lot of things.

He was smart, a good photographer, and top of his class in nearly everything, but there was something only you seemed to see when it came to him.

Peter Parker, was a pain in the ass.

It wasn't that he'd show off in class, you do that too- though mainly to shut him up, it was the way he would do it; like he was smarter than everyone else.

His smug, 'holier than thou' attitude really pissed you off. And you were sure to make him know it.

Peter wasn’t shy when it came to hating you either, rolling his eyes when you answered a question and snickering when you got it wrong. Muttering insults across the room until you snapped and winded up in detention for ‘strong language’.

He’d hated you since you were in third grade, always finding a way to push your buttons. Whether it came to your looks, your intelligence, and when he got older, your body and sex life, quickly learning that would drive you off of the edge.

Your teachers, friends and even your parents were sick of your constant bickering with Peter, so, your folks and Peter's aunt came to an agreement. They would send the two of you on a camping trip.

Of course, you didn't know Peter would be there until you got to the site.

"What the hell are you doing here Parker?" You asked, walking out of your car to where he was setting up his tent. "This is our campsite."

He looks up at you, an annoyed expression clouding his face, "Our?" He asks, gesturing to your parent's car that was now driving away from you.

You tried to chase after the car, but it was no use. You scoffed, walking away from Peter to have a less than friendly conversation with your parents.

After half an hour of you arguing, cursing, and begging your parents to come back and get you away from Peter, you finally gave up. Walking back to the site to see Peter on the phone- presumably with his aunt.

"Look just-" he stops when he sees you, "come pick me up, or her, I don't care just..." he pauses, "yes she's here... no she can't hear you."

For the next couple of minutes, you can vaguely hear Peter's aunt tell him off, him adding an "okay" or a "yep" every couple of minutes. Eventually, he says goodbye and hangs up the phone, turning to you.

"Looks like our families set us up." He said, smacking his lip together and returning to the mess of a tent he was trying to make.

You decide to stop bitching and help, you need a place to sleep tonight. You sit next to him, helping him figure out how to set up the tent. Once you're done, you grab your duffle bag, shoving it into the completed tent and sitting in one of the two camp chairs.

Peter sits in the other, pulling two packets of noodles out of his backpack. “You hungry?” He asks, waving the noodles around.

You almost let a smile slip, but you nod, “What flavour are they?” You ask, leaning forward to get a closer look.

Peter tosses the packets at you, “Just chicken noodles.” He replies, standing up. “I’m gonna get some firewood, you need anything?” He asks, his voice showing he had to force himself to be even somewhat nice to you.

You don’t give him the same honour, “From you? No.” You say, rolling your eyes.

His eyes darken, “God your so fuckin-“ He closes his mouth, pausing to think, and walks away.

Huh, you thought, he can shut up.

The rest of the night was no less than awkward, you didn’t speak once, barring a quick thank you as he passed you your bowl of noodles.

You had packed marshmallows, so you brought them out for the two of you to enjoy. But not even the fluffy

You felt the pit in your stomach as the silence filled you with anxiety, so you decided to excuse yourself, “I’m gonna get changed,” you muttered, heading into the tent.

Once you were changed, you didn’t feel like going back to the fire, opting to try and sleep early so this waste of a camping trip could be over.

You laid in your sleeping bag, completely unable to fall asleep, of course, you couldn’t- it wasn’t past 8:30. But determined to keep away from the awkwardness, you still tried to fall asleep.

After a couple of hours, Peter enters the tent, “You alright?” He asked, looking at you eerily as he takes off his jacket and t-shirt, replacing them with a sweatshirt. He decides to keep the same sweatpants on, climbing over you to hop in his seeping bad.

You nod, “Yeah, just tired.”

He snickers, “tired of being annoying?” He stretches out, his sweatshirt riding up to show the bottom of his stomach, you can’t help but bite your lip.

“Something like that,” you say, not wanting to get into another fight.

He doesn’t seem to get the point, “What? You’re being silent? How will you piss me off?” He says, rolling towards you.

You bite your lip, pissed off but too exhausted to filter your thoughts. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” He says, sitting back.

You followed, sitting up, “What’s your problem with me? Why do you hate me so much?”

His eyes darken, “I’m going to sleep,” He rolls over.

You slip out of your beanbag, determined to get an answer, or at least to piss him off. “No, tell me. Why are you so obsessed with hating me? What did I do to you? What in gods name could-“

You were cut off by Peter rolling over, grabbing your face and pushing his lips against yours. Against your better judgement, you immediately reciprocate.

He runs his hands through your hair and tugs, causing you to moan into his mouth. He uses your open mouth to push his tongue into your mouth, immediately dominating the kiss.

You grab at his sweatshirt, trying to pull it off of him. He groans, helping you shed the fabric off of himself. Immediately pulling your t-shirt off of your body and pushing you onto your back.

He takes in the sight of your breasts, “fuck…” he mutters, reaching down to pull your sweatpants off.

You pull him back to you as he kicks off his own sweatpants, leaning down to kiss you. He cups your cunt through your panties, causing you to moan in his mouth.

He can feel the wet spot on your underwear, he smirks into the kiss. “So fucking wet, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He pushes your underwear to the side, dipping his finger through your slit, collecting slick. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix that pup.”

Peter pushes two fingers into you and curling them, you moan, burying your face into his neck and biting down to suck a bruise. He groans, moving his thumb to rub at your clit.

You moan again, bucking your hips into his fingers. He continues to fuck you with his fingers at a ravenous pace, trying to memorise every part of your cunt.

He finally hits your sweet spot, you gasp, gripping onto the hand inside you with your own hand. “There’s our girl…” He mutters, leaning down mouth at your breast.

You moan at the triple stimulation, your high washing over you like a tidal wave. The coil in your stomach snaps the second it appears, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you cum.

Peter’s hand fucks you through the overstimulation, finally pulling his fingers out of you.

He smirks, “I think that’s the best sound you’ve ever made, finally able to say something without pissing me off” He mutters, kissing the corner of your lip.

You’re still mewling, coming down from your high when he moves back to your lips, lazily making out with you.

You press your hand to his face, rolling your hips up into his. He lets out a grunt, grinding your hips to meet your rolls, you moan into his mouth.

Slowly, he dips his hand into your waistband and pulling down your panties, moving to also take off his boxers.

You find it hard not to stare at his cock, its length is… intimidating, to say the least. He notices your nerves, moving to give you a surprisingly soft kiss.

“Relax baby…” he whispers, “this still okay?”

You nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I do… I really do.” You say, but your nerves don’t leave your face.

He smiles, “How about this.” He lines his cock up, dragging it through your slick before pushing his shaft flat between your pussylips.

You whine, gripping onto his shoulders as he grinds his cock against you. A moan slips out of you as you roll your hips against his.

“Fuck…” He moans, leaning down to mouth at your breast once again. Biting your nipple before kissing it to soothe. He moves up to kiss your mouth, lazily making out with you.

Although the two of you are moving slow, you can feel the heat in your abdomen building up, the coil turning, ready to snap.

“Pete…” You moan out.

He moves his kisses to your cheek, then down your jaw. “Cum for me baby,” He whispers. Rolling his hips further into you.

The wave rolls over you, instead of the hot, rushing high you hit earlier, this one is calming. All of your muscles seem to relax as Peter coaxes you through your high.

Peter looks down on you as you come back from your orgasm, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “That was so fucking hot, you’re so hot.”

He moves his cock, using the arousal you just coated him with as lubrication, he lines up with your entrance, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Ready?” He asks.

You nod, bucking your hips to try to catch his tip in your entrance. He tuts, moving the hair out of your face and slowly pushes in.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, “Fuckk, baby you’re so tight.” He moans, checking to see if you’re okay before bottoming out.

You let out a loud moan, pattering your hand around to find him, once you do, you grip tight. “You okay?” he asks. You nod, rolling your hips into his to encourage him to move.

He gets the message, pulling out so his tip barely grazes your entrance and fully thrusting back in. You let out a loud moan, gripping your free hand into his hair.

Peter finds a steady pace, his thrusts rough and fast as he sucks numerous amounts of hickeys to your neck and chest, pressing a soothing kiss into each of them before moving to make a new one.

He thrusts strangely, like he’s searching for your sweet spot, when he finds it your eyes roll to the back of your head, your pussy clamping down onto his cock. He repeats the motion until you’re a whimpering, moaning mess.

You feel that familiar pool in your abdomen pushing you towards your high. In no time Peter has you clenching down, practically screaming as you fall into your third high of the night. Peter is quick to follow, spilling his seed into you.

The two of you breathlessly come down from your highs. Collapsed against each other, pressing your foreheads together.

“Fuck…” he moans, pressing for a chaste kiss, “Guess our parents will be happy” He laughs

You giggle, “I’d be down to pretend to still hate you.” You say, playing with his now messy hair.

He chuckles, “Yeah, make ‘em believe they have to keep sending us on these trips.”

You smile, pulling him down for another kiss, he immediately reciprocates, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He rolled the two of you over, manoeuvring the two of you into the sleeping bag, “Goodnight.” He whispers, slowly falling to sleep.

As you watch him sleep you think to yourself, maybe Peter Parker isn’t that bad after all.

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#peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker angst #tasm!peter x reader fluff #tasm!peter x reader angst #tasm!peter x reader smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #tasm!peter parker x reader angst #tasm!peter parker x reader fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x you #strawberrysodaslut30day

[thousand-winters]

How about a Dadrius au (or maybe it’s canon you never know) where Darius gets disgusted with everyone and everything.

Except Hunter

Once upon a time Hunter would have brought him the same disgust anyone else would have, whether he was coughing without his elbow to his mouth, or he peed on the floor as a toddler.

But eventually Hunter becomes his kid, and anyone else could even sneeze and he’s gagging, but Hunter could vomit all over himself and Darius simply doesn’t care

Honestly, sort of canon.

Darius strikes me as the kind of person who genuinely has an awful time with stuff like that, so it might seem to people like he's being dramatic but he really can't stand it, and others might think that he's being exaggerated but if someone is going to protect his peace of mind and peace in general, it's going to be himself, that's fine.

He's deep down very much a softie though, and his levels of tolerance do waver a bit when it comes to his loved ones; does he snap and grumble at Eber for leaving mud all over his clothes and sitting on his couch when there are sticks and leaves stuck on his fur? He does. Does he actually get that angry at them or tells them to not come back? Absolutely not. Eber is an eternal annoyance and also his sibling, so for better or for worse, he's tolerating that and only sighing heavily about it instead of acting genuinelly callous about it.

Getting Hunter as a baby is... sure an adjustment. I'm imagining he would have gotten him in some pressing circumstances, like one of those "oh, I cannot leave this kid with someone like Belos" scenarios, so he kinda didn't have other options and he couldn't exactly give up for adoption the Emperor's kidnapped nephew, could he? So he reluctantly had to care for him and while he got endeared to him quite fast, he simply wasn't a fan of the more messy aspects of parenthood.

He endured though because what else was he supposed to do? Eber helped him out, of course, but it wasn't fair to ask them to do all the messy stuff and Darius isn't a jerk like that anyway.

It's either his dad™️ pink-tinted glasses or that he simply got used to it because of how much he had to deal with it but eventually he managed to take proper care of Hunter without feeling like he was genuinely going to die a little bit having to clean up messes. Especially because he probably tried to get the job done from afar via abominations at first but Hunter was a little kid, he cried having his parent that far away when he was uncomfortable, and Darius isn't heartless, he couldn't just not get closer to soothe him.

The price of having a kid that you started to adore against your will.

When people see him being completely normal in public even when Hunter accidentally sneezes over him or something, they think Darius is awfully rude because they saw him recoil from someone coughing like two minutes ago, he's just being a bit of an asshole on purpose, isn't he? Darius doesn't care that much though, he doesn't have to explain himself to anyone and if he doesn't mind his kid and his kid only having that kind of natural body reactions that are otherwise VERY gross, then that's his own business, they all can busy themselves with their own affairs while Darius gets a handkerchief to meticulously help his kid clean his face of snot.

#darius deamonne #hunter deamonne #eberwolf the huntsman #dadrius #the owl house #toh #emeto tw #just in case

[wandabear]

COME UNDONE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X F!READER

Summary: Wanda is a 32-year-old, a divorced mother who hasn’t opened herself up to the opportunity to love again. She met Y/N but the 7 year age difference made her feel guilty… until she end up being victim of Thanos’ snap while Y/N stayed.

What if Wanda never joined the Avengers? Her parents left Sokovia when Wanda and Pietro were little, achieving the dream of living in USA.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader part 1 - part 2 - part 3 & 4 - part 5  - part 6 -   part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - part 10 finale

You don’t have permission to repost or edite or translate my work.

2024

Five years. Five years had passed since Thanos had snapped his fingers, using the stones that allowed him to leave humanity half broken and helpless.

Y/N’s gaze was fixed on the ceiling of her dark room, which was barely illuminated by the moon. �� She loved having the lights off as soon as she got home, sometimes she just lit a few scented candles and flopped into bed. Anyway, she lived at her work.

Five years were the ones Y/N had spent without being able to see her best friends, and five in which she had listened to Natasha mourn the disappearance of her sister. But Yelena wasn’t the only one who had disappeared.

Kate was also missing, Kate Bishop. Her best friend, whom she had met at College where Y/N was studying to get her Medicine degree. Of course, Kate was studying another career but fate brought them together when they had to share the place, being roomies.

Kate was one of the Bishop’s daughters, some important people in the Security business but that had never mattered to Y/N. She loved Kate considering her a sister.

Kate was dating Yelena, who was Natasha’s sister and thanks to Nat, Y/N met…her.

Her… who had also disappeared after the snap. That redhead with the most beautiful big green eyes that managed to make her sigh. She, who stole her sighs since she met her, she who with her lovely smile had melted all the barriers that Y/N put in her life after so much pain. Wanda Maximoff. That woman who, despite having made her heart beat so hard, had ripped it out of her and had left a hole that would never be filled again. And not because of her death.

‘what are u doing? Today is your night off!’ – Nat. Received.

Y/N sighed.

Possibly Nat would like to get together so they could have a beer with Bucky. Ever since Thanos’ snap the three of them had formed a very beautiful friendship.

Y/N and Natasha had bonded over the loss of Yelena, Kate and Wanda, and Bucky was Natasha’s partner.

The tall brunette hesitated whether to answer. She didn’t really want to go out but she couldn’t stay to be a victim of melancholy either. Natasha tried to introduce her to other women but sadly, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Wanda. She could no longer continue to suffer from a rejection from a person who would never love her, much less after having disappeared five years ago.

Her fingers played against the screen, as if trying to think of what to write until she did it.

‘At home. Where u at now?’ Send.

Sighing and dropping her phone on the bed, Y/N ended up getting up and walking to the bathroom so she could take a shower and go out to see her friends. After all, it was her free shift away from that damn hospital.

 _____

2019

Wanda’s life hadn’t really been easy since she’d divorced Vis. Well, to be honest, she hadn’t been for a while before that. The redhead noticed the distance that man was putting with her. Almost for two years where he was barely by her side, and after a long talk between the two, they realized that neither was happy with the other anymore.

Wanda and Vis got married when they were 20 years old, they were young people in love fighting against the world that told them they should wait. They were together for almost ten years.

Two years later, when they were 22 years old, Wanda got pregnant with twins. Vision had just finished his first year in the tec company of the Starks.

From there, their lives had become monotonous and although they had been beautiful years of happiness and a united lovely family, things between them became cold and lonely. Especially for Wanda, she was waiting for a husband who always was traveling and when he came home, he just wanted to rest and see his boys.

“So… how are the boys?” Natasha asked before drinking some of her coffee, watching as her best friend just smiled tenderly and shrugged.

“Growing up. Those two never stop fighting but… they’re very close.” Wanda said with a proud smile. “Billy is very sensitive and empathetic and kind, and Tommy is more… you know, teasing, at times some times he wants to look strong and independent, but also very loving and kind too.”

“Like you and Pietro.” Natasha smiled, arching an eyebrow.

“Hey!” Wanda made a pout but then she giggled. They were both sitting on the sofa, sharing a nice chat once the twins finally was with their dad and allowed the redhead a bit of peace.

“Have you been dating? Is there someone special that makes you smile lately?” Natasha asked somewhat curiously, with a tiny mischievous side smile.

“Oh no, of course not.”

“Oh come on, Wands! Why not? You haven’t been out with anyone in a long time. Since Vision you’ve been… alone.” Natasha snorted. “I told you I could introduce you to a nice friend. I know someone who wanted to meet you…”

“Don’t even talk to me about your blind dates, okay? I don’t feel ready yet to have more problems than I already have.” Wanda shook her head, bringing the cup of coffee to her lips.

“Come on.” Natasha flopped down against the back of the couch and was tempted to throw a pillow at her, if only her friend wasn’t still holding her cup. “How about MATCHER?”

“The dating-app?” Wanda wrinkled her nose at her, completely in denial. “No, thanks.”

“It’s full of polyamorous couples and threesome-seekers anyway.”

“And how do you know that?“ Wanda cocked her head curiously, trying not to smile amused but she couldn’t help it, they both burst out laughing.

“Is there anything more depressing than dating in your 30s?”

Both redheads talked pleasantly about everything that had happened in their lives these last few weeks until the door opened.

A petite blonde and a almost six-foot brunette came through the doorway, carrying some boxes. She didn’t seem to surprise Natasha at all, she knew that her sister would come today to drop off some boxes that she had to bring from her old apartment.

Natasha had made a bet with Yelena and the blonde had lost, therefore, she had to take care of bringing them.

“Leave them here, I’ll take care of it.” Yelena pointed to the spot to the side of the stairs. The sisters lived together after moving from Ohio.

“Kate should be here with us, helping us.” Y/N growled, leaving one of her boxes down next to Yelena.  She got up and ran a hand over her forehead, they weren’t light at all.

“Neither of the two, in fact. Yelena was the one to bring you, not to use you, y/n/n.” Natasha shook her head and got up from the couch to give her sister a little poke, who just complained and then hugged Y/N as thanks. “Thank you, Y/N, you are a sweetheart.”

But Y/N hadn’t paid much attention to that talk since since her eyes were lost on the redhead who was still sitting on the sofa. Not Natasha, of course. The white skin that contrasted with her hair, green eyes and some birthmarks on her beautiful face that seemed carved by some goddess.

Y/N was about to babble, until she found the strength to do it right.

“No problem, happy to help.”

“No hug for me?” Yelena complained. She turned to see Wanda and just waved at her before walking towards the kitchen. “Hello Wanda!”

The redhead named Wanda answered that greeting with an adorable smile. Y/N’s heart melted.

“No, for cheating and using your best friend card.” Nat groaned and then noticed how the girl was looking at Wanda. “Oh yeah. I’m sorry, Wanda, she’s Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, Wanda.” She pointed at them, causing the sokovian woman to giggle.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Wanda smiled and for a moment, Y/N knew her heart had left her place to run to Wanda to never return.

In her twenty-four years she had fallen in love once, the only relationship Y/N had and it was really bad. It was a disastrous and painful relationship where Y/N was cheated.

“Totally the same.” The brunette managed to mutter, until she came out of that spell in which she was.

The tallest woman kept her hands in her pockets so that neither of them would notice the nerves she felt seeing such a beautiful woman.

“How’s everything at College, Y/N?” Nat asked her as she took a seat next to Wanda, who seemed curious to know your answer.

Since Y/N step through the door, Wanda took the opportunity to look at her from top to bottom and without a doubt, realize that you were a very beautiful woman. Brown hair, taller than her, brown eyes and a charming smile. Wearing that leather jacket that fit Y/N quite well.

“Everything’s really good, I have a little less than two years left.…” Y/N opened her eyes and sighed. “I’m trying to prepare for my final exam in Microbiology and… I don’t know if I can do it, but at least I try.”

“Of course you can, I know you can. You’re a very capable girl and Yelena always tells me that you help her with her stuff in the classes you both share. Psych 104?” Natasha seemed more confident than Y/N, which made her smile.

“What are you studying, Y/N?” Wanda asked curiously. That accent, Wanda had an accent.

If that woman lacked something to be even more beautiful and sexy, it was to know that she had a slight accent.

“Medicine.” Y/N grimaced, noticing how the redhead also seemed surprised. It wasn’t an easy career but it was a nice career if you knew how to cope with it. “It’s not easy, but… it’s what I want.”

“Remember when you were at college and I was supposed to visit you?” Natasha asked Wanda, making her laugh at one of the most hilarious memories they both had.

The three of them had a small conversation telling that story to Y/N, who also ended up laughing too.

Yelena took about five minutes and came back again, carrying a bag. “Okay, teddybear, let’s go. I already have everything I need.”

“Teddybear?” Wanda asked, not knowing whether to laugh or keep her face serious at that nickname. Different from the one that Nat had called you minutes before. Natasha knew that story about ‘teddybear’ so she preferred to drink her coffee to hide her smile.

“That’s what we call Y/N, with Kate.” Yelena explained, though her friend shook her head begging her not to.

“Why?”

“I’is a long long story.” Y/N narrowed her eyes and took the bag Yelena was carrying before pushing her away. “Let’s go. Move.”

“Not very long, you’ll see when…” Yelena was about to tell Wanda everything when the brunette ended up taking her away, dragging her.

“It will be another day, Wanda. Nice to meet you!” Y/N groaned as they walked towards the exit.

The two redheads kept looking at them with an amused smile, but the look of Wanda was different. She felt an interest that she had not felt before.

ㅤㅤㅤ

_____

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N was on her own bed playing with her phone, trying to pass the time that Friday night. Kate and Yelena were at a party that Y/N wasn’t interested in hearing about, didn’t feel like going out that night.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Her plan was to eat some pizza, watch a movie ot a tv show, and snoop through some Instagram stories.

Y/N smiled at Yelena’s stories, where Kate was seen trying to do a cartwheel in the campus, saying what she could do sober or after some beers too.

Y/N swiped across the screen again and came to Natasha’s stories, who had uploaded a flashback photo of her and Wanda, sitting on a wall and holding out their hands as if to grab the camera. They looked a few years younger but beautiful, having fun together.

But aside from how adorable Wanda looked, Y/N’s attention was drawn to the tag in that photo. It was tagged, Wanda’s Instagram profile.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The brunette hesitated for a moment whether to peek a little, perhaps it was better to keep her distance because:

ㅤㅤㅤ

a.Wanda was seven years older than her, and she was a beautiful woman, she would NEVER notice Y/N. b. Apparently she’s divorced and had two children. c. She was Natasha’s best friend.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N dropped the phone and sighed, trying to resist and she did for a long time but ended up unlocking the phone and going to Wanda’s profile, praying it wasn’t a private account.

And as if some goddess gave her her blessing, the profile was free and there were many interesting things in it.

Pictures of Wanda with her children, most of these photos were adorable. Apparently the little ones were twins and cute as fuck, maybe eight years old.  

Then pictures with Natasha and some other people that she couldn’t recognize, but in all of them she looked so beautiful as she remembered. Even looked sexy in one of these.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So she’s a MILF.” Y/N said as she looked at one of the last photos that Wanda  uploaded until by mistake, a very very stupid mistake, Y/N ended up liking one and exposing herself.

Horror. Cold sweat.

What to do now? Should she remove it? Maybe Wanda hadn’t seen it, she still had time, but surely she had already received a notification. What if she removed it, she would know that she had removed it and she would have to explain twice. TWICE.

The girl brought one of her hands to her face to keep from screaming in frustration as her phone vibrated.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

@ wmaximoff sent you a message: Hello there!

Oh, no. Oh, jeez no.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N gulped and stared at the screen for a moment not knowing what to do or say.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

@ wmaximoff  is following you now.

“Damn, Y/N, come on.” She said to herself and sat on her bed, trying to think of what to write to the redhead.

ㅤㅤㅤ

@ bearisland

 “Hey, Wanda. How are you?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

@ wmaximoff   is writing…

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Everything is fine, I was surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah, because i’m an idiot.” Y/N said, she hadn’t even thought of a good excuse. She bit her upper lip trying to think of something convincing to say but nothing seemed good, nothing that didn’t make her look like an obsessive psychopath or a stupid college gossip girl with a crush.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

@ bearisland

“Yeah… I was looking at Nat’s stories and you came out and I decided to follow you.”

She decided to tell the truth. Kinda.

@ wmaximoff:

 “But you still don’t follow me… Feel free to do so.”

“I saw that Yelena is partying, don’t tell me that you are too and you’re there with your phone!”

Y/N smiled and ended up answering her, following a long talk between the two. The brunette one explained that she had decided to stay and be able to spend some time alone, quietly in her bedroom.

She spent her Friday night chatting with Wanda, who told her that she finally ended the week exhausted from her work but happy that she had the weekend to herself. No kiddos.

Y/N took the opportunity to tell her some stuff too and find out more about that beautiful woman.

It was two in the morning and both were still sending each other messages, chatting about one of the tv shows that Y/N was watching and that apparently was one of Wanda’s favorites.

@ wmaximoff:

 “Hey, Y/N…it’s kinda late and I woke up early today. I’ll go to sleep, if you want we can talk tomorrow, I’ll send you my pone number. It’s…”

With a huge smile on her lips and some tiredness in her eyes, she added Wanda’s phone and sent her a short message to make sure the redhead had hers.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m Y/N, this is my number. I wanted to see if it was right.” Sent.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She waited a few minutes before Wanda’s picture appeared in her contacts, she was already replying to Y/N.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re already added. I hope you have a nice night, Y/N. And try to party more, don’t lock yourself up like this old lady.” Received.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re not old, Wanda, you are thirty-two and you’re so beautiful.” Sent.  

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

She hesitated a moment, realizing that perhaps that had been more flirtatious than she expected. Y/N heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest. Perhaps it had been a big mistake but when Wanda answered her again, her heart continued to beat but this time, in a different way.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You make me blush. You’re also beautiful. We talk tomorrow, if you want… have a nice night.”  Received.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She fell on the bed with a huge smile, settling between the covers ready to dream of that beautiful woman.

ㅤㅤㅤ

____

2024 – PRESENT

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m so tired.” The Russian groaned as she clung to her beer, leaning her back against her seat.

“Come on, the case wasn’t that bad…” Bucky gave her a little playful nudge. “At least we arrest that asshole and will soon rot in prison soon.”

“And I got shot for it!” Natasha winced.

“Well, it’s a good thing they didn’t hurt you because I won’t heal you again. I’m done patching you two…” Y/N pointed at them before taking a sip of her beer. The three stayed a while in that bar they usually visited after work.

Natasha and Bucky Barnes were detectives while the brunette was in her second year at Metro-General Hospital. Things were pretty good for the three of them even though they had such a lonely life sometimes.

Bucky was closed to meeting someone since his traumas and loneliness used to drive people away and he believed that he was not capable of giving love to anyone. Natasha teased him by calling him ‘Winter Soldier’.

Natasha only focused on her work after Bruce Banner broke her heart because the idiot said ‘she deserved better’. Y/N hated that excuse, she knew that if someone loved a person and especially a person like Natasha, he would do anything to be with her.

And Y/N never stopped thinking about Wanda.

“Well, what are we going to do tomorrow then-” Natasha was about to continue when a scream made her turn quickly. The three watched as some people began to scream in fear.

Some sounds like car wheels screeching made the three of them get up from their seats.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky said ready to take the gun, fearing that it was another attack like the one they experienced in 2012.

Nat just kept silent and moved between the tables of that bar when Y/N looked at the huge tv screen where moments ago the game between Celtics-Heat was showing, now they showed the chaos not only in New York but in the world.

“Guys…” Y/N said pointing to the television.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

“WORLD NEWS  21 - THEY ARE COMING BACK!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

“…As I was telling you, we are live from New York City, where people who had disappeared after the SNAP appear to be showing up again. Is that correct, Jenna?… They’re coming back! Oh, my god.”

That woman in the news asked one of the journalists who ran in the city, demonstrating how, unlike the snap, people regenerated again in the same place that had disappeared.

The ambulances were immediate, as were the phone calls. Desperate people ran to their homes or places of work to reunite with their loved ones. Others furious to see people they didn’t know in their own homes.

And those three lonely sons of bitches watched the news with their lips open in surprise without being able to believe it.

They were coming back. After almost six years they were all coming back.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x f!reader

[notyour-valentine]

Congratulations once again Val 🥰

Could I request something from your prompt list 👠 “Money is the God of our time.” with Thomas Shelby of course

False Idol ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Angst)

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Warning: Strained marriage, bad parenting, absentee father (18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Words: 1158 words

The first knock got no response, and the second faired little better, so instead of knocking for a third time, she took a deep breath and entered. 

Her husband didn't care to look up. 

His sleeves were rolled up, his glasses perched on his nose and a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

The door closed with a snap even he heard. 

"Out.", He snarled under his breath, as he reached for another folder without lifting his eyes. 

"It's me."

Her voice was so soft, she feared he wouldn't catch it, but when he sighed heavily, she knew he had. 

Taking his glasses off, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his swollen eyes. 

She was convinced he needed new ones by now but he refused to go to the doctor. No time, he claimed, even if he was hunched over to be able to make out the letters. 

"Yes, my love?", He asked with a soft attempt at a smile. "I don't have much time so make it quick."

And he had begun so sweetly, she almost felt as if she had a chance. 

Walking around the desk and noticed the tray the maids had brought up with lunch, the food barely touched. But the ashtray was full, as always. 

After opening a window, she met his eyes and cupped his cheek. his hand found her waist.

"Tommy, this isn't right.", She said. "It's been forever since the children had some time with you. They want to go riding. You could join them and they can show you how much they've improved."

"Some other time.", He insisted, leaning forward once more. In the absence of his hand, she felt a chill, but the realisation was a harsher sensation.

Her time was up. The matter was dealt with.

At least according to him. 

"I have work to do. There's a business call."

She tried not to let the dull pain show. Once it had been sharp but by now she expected it, after all it came blow by blow, every time she went to bed alone, only to feel the mattress shift closer to midnight than much else, with every kiss to her cheek she'd receive then or when he got up with the birds, with every gloriously prized rose she found on her dressing table every morning, cut by the gardener's by his request but without his input or care.

She doubted he even remembered giving the order. 

She had felt it everytime she had asked when they would do something together again, either just the two of them or them as a family. He'd find something or hand her some cash and suggest they meet up with Ada and Karl and promise that he would join them next time. 

That next time had come and gone, but he didn't. He never did. 

And yet his absence wasn't the worst part. Missing him, longing for him both during the day and night, yearning for his touch, his embrace, his voice, all that faded in comparison to the cruel reality that she had stopped. 

Whether it was gradually or from one day to the other, she could not tell, but all of a sudden, she found herself going to sleep just fine, realising she no longer went to his office to ask him to join them but just took the money herself and went, no longer staring at his empty seat at dinner. 

The moment of true realisation had come at their daughter's dance recital. She had been so giddy and excited and had pulled them all the way to the front where she had saved seats. One for her mother. Two for her brothers. 

That was it. That was all she expected. 

And that realisation was a pain worse than her own heartbreak. 

"Alright.", She sighed. And perhaps it would be. 

After all, it was Thursday and from tomorrow on, all business would be closed for a few days. 

"Will you come to church with us this weekend?", She asked. 

He gave her a look as if she had insulted him. 

"Tommy, it's Easter.", She reminded him. 

"So?", He demanded to know. "Have them paint eggs or something."

The eggs are already painted, she thought. They are decorating all the windows downstairs. Have been for a week now. 

"Tommy, I know you don't care for the church, but isn't it important our children learn about faith or religion?", She asked. "Or at least join us for the lunch after."

"Faith's a waste of time.", He hissed, adding a few scribbles onto his paper and waving her off as one would wave off a pesky waiter. 

"They have to make up their own minds,", she insisted, "but for that they have to know what they are talking about."

He only snorted as he put down his signature. 

"Regardless of whether they want to believe or not, they can’t function in the world without a basic understanding of religion or God and-"

He cut her off by slamming his pen down and glaring at her. 

"You want them to understand the world?", He snapped, anger flashing in his icy eyes. "This is the world!"

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a rolled up portion of bills and cracked them down on the mahogany wood. 

She inhaled sharply and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. 

I should have known better than to try and talk to you, she thought bitterly, as she turned on her heel. 

"This- Money- is the God of our time!", He called after her. 

"And what of your time, Tommy?"

She hadn't meant to shout, but here she was. She hadn't meant to do a great deal of things, nor to let a great many others happen. 

"What?"

She crossed the room once more and braced herself on his desk. 

"You hate the church and yet you are more devout to your business, to money, than all the old nuns are to their God put together."

His face darkened faster than she thought possible, and his voice dropped to frightening depths. 

It was rare that she saw The Thomas Shelby in her husband, but she saw him now- the coldness, the lack of emotion, the burning anger and the capability for anything. 

"I do this for you.", He snarled under his breath. "For you and the children."

She huffed and stepped back. 

There was some truth in it. 

He had sweet talked her with promises of a better future but she had married him not believing a single word of his grand plans. 

But even in his wildest dreams, he hadn't talked about things like this, about a mansion, about maids and servants by the scores, about a different set of diamonds for every day of the week.

Everything money could buy was at her beck and call, but at what cost? 

"And if you drop dead tomorrow, Tom, what do you think the children will remember of you?", She asked. "That the house was big? That their shoes were the most expensive ones money could buy? That their jumpers were only made from the finest wool?"

She swallowed hard but the pain in her throat didn't subside in the slightest. 

"Money may be the God of our time, my love, but it is you who has made it the epicentre of yours and no one else."

End.

Thank you so much Andy @l1-l4 for requesting and participating in my celebration - I hope you liked it!

Thank you everyone for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!

If you want to participate in my celebration, click here!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly  @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

#valentines1k #valentineswritings #ask me to dance #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby angst

[thecupcakewritesmorethings]

Brahms Gets Therapy: The Good Ending

Posting this for the lovely person @brwnicons​ who said my take on Brahms was unique.

I lean into the camp that Brahms is, for all intents and purposes, a victim of his parents, and see him as entirely salvageable. Anyway, here is how to get the BEST ending with Brahms.

Assuming the reader takes the place of Greta through the movies, including the abusive ex... Brahms only ever attacks or lets himself be revealed when his conduit to the reader is broken and he sees your ex as a threat to your life.

Brahms emerges from the walls, and Malcom softly realizes that the person standing in front of you is the man behind the Doll. Some part of you realizes this, too and you’re stunned. So stunned to fully stop yourself when Brahms attacks Cole, or your version of him, but you quickly snap too.

This is Brahms. The somewhat creepy doll you had been taking care of, which meant only one thing; he was upset that Cole had made his way into his home and only stepped out to protect you.

So you step in. Not to protect Cole, but to stop Brahms from doing something he’d definitely regret later. You grab his arm and drop to your knees, trying to pull him away from your would-be assailant, and when that doesn’t work you put yourself between the two. Brahms is upset- angry upset- but you’re there. You’re in his arms and holding him close and telling him it’s okay. He doesn’t stay angry for long, and he teeters between running off again- or staying as Cole stammers. Brahms holds the mirror shard in his hands as a quiet threat. Cole either leaves, or gets dragged away by Malcom who sees what it is you’re trying to do. Malcom shoots for the phone to call emergency services.

You quietly reassure Brahms that everything is okay, and he doesn’t entirely believe you, but he is beyond the moon. You’re holding him, letting him know some good people are going to come by, but that you’re not going to leave him. For the first time in a long time, Brahms feels something he’s needed. Acceptance. Unconditional acceptance.

The Police take statements from you and Malcom first, then they try to take a statement from Brahms who is, uncooperative. They decide he needs to be taken to the station, and it’s all you can do to ride in the back with him. Brahms reacts angrily to the idea of handcuffs, so your hands are fine.

The police explore the confines of the walls, and they find everything. They find Brahms’ bed, his doll of you, the note, the evidence of twenty-something long years of a boy being forced to hide in his own home. Brahms is officially declared alive post-mortem and he is evaluated psychologically. Of course, the case with Emily is re-opened as well.

You stay by his side. The diagnosis is not... Well it’s not good, but the psychologist is not as scary as Brahms first imagines. She speaks to him in a soothing, calming voice. It’s clear that Brahms has affections for you, and it is clear that they are not healthy, so his psychologist suggests some time apart. You do not take this advice.

Instead, when Brahms and you are in her office you work on establishing some boundaries. Part of these boundaries and “new rules” involve him talking about what happened with Emily.

Whether you believe Brahms killed her, or it was an accident I’ll leave it to your interpretation. It’s a complicated issue on what to do at that point, and the authorities are having a hard time trying to figure out of if Brahms can, technically, be held accountable for anything that happened when he was eight years old.

Ultimately, this requires a long stint of being with the psychologist as the home is repaired. It brings Brahms to tears, but you get him to agree to stay at a psych ward with his doctors for a time while you and Malcom repair what damage is done to the house. You promise you can visit whenever you can, but the longer he is a good boy and plays by their rules: the sooner he can return from his trip.

The Psychologist rules that Brahms is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, not mentally well enough to be held accountable for his actions, both as a child and as an adult. However, there is a silver lining. Brahms is allowed to return home to you, and the two of you (really just Brahms) must have bi-weekly check-ups with his psychologist, who encourages him and you to exercise more adult activities.

First it’s little things, and Brahms exclusively uses his little voice, but you encourage the use of his big voice. There are also days where he completely shuts down and goes off to hide in the walls like before. As per the doctor’s orders, you try not to bother him too much. He needs to feel safe.

The Psychologist also encourages you to urge him to allow more guests in the form of help around the house. He needs to see your boundaries and know that you’re not going to do everything for him, that you need some time off as well.

A year into Brahms’ re-appearance he’s using his adult voice most of the time. He doesn’t like hiring help for the house, but he’ll deal if it means more time to spend with you.

#The boy #Slasher x reader #Brahms heelshire #brahms x reader

[wooahaes]

shades of you

pairing: non-idol!the8 x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 3/13

word count: 3.3k~

warnings: complicated feelings about a soulmate. mentions of anger, but it’s not directly toward anyone.

daisy’s notes: sometimes u simply finish a fic after not working on it for like two months. anyway have some artist!hao.

summary: There’s a reason Minghao sticks to monochrome outfits, and it’s because he lives life one color at a time based off of whatever his soulmate is feeling. Sometimes they blend together, but he’s used to seeing only one real shade among his world. He’d be lying if it wasn’t frustrating...

Life in mono color was unfair in its own damn right, and Minghao knew it firsthand because his existence was tied to you in the most unfair way.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want a soulmate--frankly, he’d rather have than have not. But there was a clear reason why he stuck to monochrome outfits when he could, and it was because that had been easier. His entire closet was organized by color already, everything labeled in either a sleeve or a sewn-in piece of fabric with the color written in neat handwriting. In itself, that broadcast how much his family and friends loved him and that they were willing to accommodate him as best as they could. But he was living a life of muted colors in whatever color matched his soulmate’s mood. Minghao knew that he was luckier than some people (he couldn’t imagine what Seungcheol experienced in his day to day, seeing no color at all--it almost made him guilty sometimes for being so pissed at his own sign). When you were happy, all he could see was bright yellow standing out against the desaturated yellow world; in anger, it was dark reds. He’d learned to decipher what colors were more real than the others--a blue shirt would always be a brighter shade than the rest of his monotone world and would feel more right than other blue things. It took a little guesswork, and sometimes the occasional text to his friend to confirm that the red shirt he had picked out was indeed red, but he made it work. If nothing else, he could pull off monochrome incredibly well.

Truthfully, it was the little things like that.

Which wasn’t to say that Minghao didn’t miss being able to tell colors apart, because he did. He’d never forget when he turned ten because of how distraught he’d become. He had stayed awake until midnight without his parents knowing, waiting for something to happen to him to tell him whether he had someone out there that he’d fall in love with one day. Yet the moment the clock hit midnight, it all began to melt away. Almost all the colors he had loved, the finger paintings he’d done when smaller, the decorations in his bedroom: all of them faded away and left him with a content shade of yellow to color his world. Wherever you were, you were happy while he was dealing with the worst day of his life as a kid. He’d ran crying to his parents, asking and begging for the colors to come back. Everything looked wrong. He was miserable (and, if you’d already been ten at that point, he later realized you would have known from the mix of deep blues and red that changed your world) while you were out there happy somewhere. He hated you at first, actually. He had to grapple with the fact that he’d never see the color green in the grass or in cartoon frogs the way he did before; or know what certain flowers were supposed to look like; or be able to look at the blue sky as it was meant to be seen until you were either upset or calm, or until you two met face to face. He had hated you for years, spurred on heavily by teenage hormonal angst to keep his emotions a mess. His parents told him he should be happy that he wasn’t someone who wanted a soulmate and didn’t have one.

He remembered snapping back at them that he didn’t want a stupid soulmate if it meant he couldn’t see the world anymore, because your existence had taken that from him. He’d been fifteen at the time, stressed from school and life and hearing about his other friends with their perfect signs. He remembered the way his vision slowly turned blue after that, painting his world in melancholy shades that ended up tugging at his heartstrings. Maybe you had seen the bitter red of his anger. Maybe you were seeing the shades of blue he felt because what if you knew, somehow, that he hated you? It was sometime around then that he began to make peace with it all. He couldn’t change his sign, so he should learn to cope with it.

Besides... there was a little something comfortable for him later in life in being unable to see the gaudy orange that Soonyoung wore sometimes, unless you happened to feel a boost of confidence. He always swore that if he could see it, he’d feed him to the tigers himself. All in all, maybe his friends should be the ones considering themselves lucky. Minghao already had the habit of pointing out when patterns were clashing in the worst way--he’d be ruthless had he known the color coordination some of them could lack at times.

At first, Minghao thought there was no way he could ever pursue art as a hobby. You needed to see color for painting, and that had always been what he wanted to take up. But Seokmin and the rest of his friends had bought him an easel at long last after watching their friend make do with a sketchbook, saying that he could always try to make monochromatic pieces instead. That left a certain level of hope for him, actually. He’d seen monochromatic pieces sometimes in their splendor when his soulmate’s mood aligned perfectly, and there was beauty in them that only other people with this sign could truly feel. So he started painting, bit by bit when he could. Minghao was confident he knew your emotions on a typical day well enough to stick to the right colors. But there were nights where he’d be painting and then everything would start fading from the calm blue to an angry red, and Seokmin would hear him groan and nearly throw down his paints in response. His paint was still wet and he needed to finish this piece before it dried, damn it. But he’d always try to take a deep breath, mellow back out, and hope that whatever was pissing you off would pass soon enough for your sake. He could do this. He would make do with having a hobby so dependent on another person. Everything else in his life already was anyway.

Seokmin had swung into his room one day, watching him paint from the cozy chair Minghao had dragged in a while back for reading in (typically when he needed his own space, taking refuge in his own room). Most of Minghao’s paintings were more... abstract. He let his brush guide him while he worked fast, shades blending together.

“An ocean?”

Minghao looked over his shoulder, then back to the painting in front of him. “Is that what you see?”

Seokmin merely hummed in response, thinking over his answer. “It looks lonely,” he said soon enough. He had the throw pillow from the chair hugged against his stomach, leg bouncing slightly as he continued to mull over his answer. Then he stopped moving, watching Minghao reach for another tube of paint, fingers brushing over the white before diving back for it. “Do you ever think about them?”

Yes, all the time, was what Minghao wanted to sharply say, with a tacked on not because I want to. Being subjected to your emotions meant you were constantly on the back of his mind until he delved into that whirlpool of why you were feeling that way. But Minghao knew why Seokmin was asking. It was the same reason he asked questions before about what Minghao thought of you, of who you were, who he wanted you to be.

That last one he hadn’t answered outright and told Seokmin that if you were destined to be something together that the two of you would work it out. You didn’t need to be his ideal type of person to be his, and he didn’t need to be your ideal either. That’s what a soulmate was to Minghao: someone who you could learn to love and make things work because something was written in the stars for the two of you. He’d usually rattle off the same “someone who’s cute and kind” response when people asked back. It was his go-to because it was generic. Sometimes people would push and ask what cute meant to him, and he’d say anyone had the capacity to be cute. His current friend group were the only ones to hear what Minghao truly felt, and Seokmin was the one who heard it the most.

Seokmin was also the one who knew that Minghao (like plenty of people who had soulmates) had no intention of dating before meeting his soulmate. He dated maybe once or twice, sure, but those had ended quickly. It wasn’t frowned upon to date someone who wasn’t your soulmate (soulmates could be platonic, after all) but the romantic in him refused to get too attached. The other person could leave him for their soulmate at any moment if they jived well enough with them, and he found it... cruel, to say the least, to fall for someone who wasn’t your soulmate. Maybe if his sign was something else. But there was always this gnawing feeling that he was somehow cheating on you, wherever you were. Minghao had told him that once. Seokmin told him it wasn’t cheating (which he knew) but he understood it completely.

“Yes.” Minghao finally answered as he curled a crescent moon into the sky.

Seokmin just hummed. “What’s it like?” He asked, gaining Minghao’s full attention. There was hope in his voice that drove a knife deep into Minghao’s stomach. “Having a soulmate?”

Of all the people to not have a soulmate, it felt... unfair for Seokmin to be one of them. His heart was full of love and it was almost wrong of the universe to not give him a guaranteed someone to pour all of that into (so he poured it into his twelve closest friends instead: a noble enough thing to do). Minghao always had the underlying feeling that Seokmin’s soulmate mark was something different, something that’d come out of nowhere when it happened. He’d read enough times about things like sparks flying upon first contact, about seeing colorful footprints leading to the other person. Things that you either had to observe or physically touch another person in order to know that they’re it. But he kept those close to his chest, knowing that the topic was sometimes sensitive among the entire group of friends.

But that was beside the point. Having a soulmate was... indescribable, if Minghao was honest. Somewhere, you existed. That was the beginning and end of the story: the two of you were destined to be something important to one another.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered a moment later. He didn’t, because what was it like to not have a soulmate? “I think... It’s nice to know they’re there. But if they weren’t, I think I’d be okay.”

He didn’t have to look up to see the sad smile on Seokmin’s face. “I guess... It’s complicated.”

That it was. Life truly wasn’t fair.

One of the galleries in his area had reached out to him to commission a piece of an upcoming “undiscovered artist” exhibit they had been funded to do. Minghao knew the importance of having an online presence, which was why he posted at least one picture of every painting he created both onto his social media and onto his own personal website--which was likely where the woman who reached out to him had found his business email. Some of them were more abstract than others, but that didn’t stop him from building a following. When he had told his friends, they had celebrated with him that following weekend, schedules cleared to make time since this was a big deal for him. The woman he spoke with had been kind when she mentioned that she read his short “about” page mentioning that all of his pieces were created despite his vision being changed by his soulmate’s emotions.

The piece he was supposed to create, alongside his other guidelines for the painting’s size itself, was meant to be something to represent his own feelings toward his soulmate. That was the theme of the exhibit itself. People who both had and didn’t have soulmates were scouted and given the same prompt, almost as if this was some experiment to see how people with and without felt toward this figure they were supposed to have.

So Minghao sat down at his primed canvas, and took a deep breath. The best way to paint this sort of thing was impulsively, letting him feel as he needed to. Seokmin had curled up nearby, no deliveries to be made at the moment, to help him. With a deadline, he didn’t have time to wait on his soulmate’s emotions to change to fit what he needed. If not Seokmin, then he’d get someone else to help him while he worked. Even if Minghao couldn’t see the colors themselves, he knew he could envision them entirely. He knew exactly what he wanted to put down. All he needed was a little guiding hand to set him in the right direction.

He asked Seungcheol to look at it, though. Even without color, Minghao wanted the emotion behind the piece to come across as clear as it could. A little anger, from when he first lost everything but that happy yellow; a little fear, because every day he went out was another day he could find his soulmate; and a little sadness in the days he lived without you. All underneath a painting that said loud and clear: I’m here and I will love you despite the bad parts you had to see. Seungcheol had stared at it, tracing his fingers over the dried canvas. It wasn’t finished yet, but Minghao wanted the feedback from someone more like him. He’d carefully taped off the middle section, carving out two figures in the middle, vague enough in appearance they could be anybody.

“Is this you two?” He had asked, fingers tracing over the blank outline. Minghao was still deciding if he wanted to cut it out entirely. When he nodded, Seungcheol looked back at the canvas. “I think it’s nice.”

“Just nice?”

Seungcheol pressed his lips together, looking back at the painting. He nodded. “It’s softer here,” he said, gesturing at the area closest to the two figures. “But  you were more.. rougher around the edges.”

Minghao knew that was intentional. The texture was depicted through rough, quick strokes added to the painting was something born out of anger. Seokmin had asked him afterward if he was alright, and Minghao had calmly told him that he was an artist who didn’t always have to feel that emotion to depict it.

“You said you struggled with it at first.” Seungcheol looked a little distant. “With having a soulmate, I mean.”

He felt... guilty asking Seungcheol to look at it. He knew Seungcheol struggled with his own colorless life, with having to rely on everyone else around him... It was something they had bonded over, even if Minghao was able to see just one shade more than he did. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should have just had Seokmin look at it again.

“But you’re still open to loving them,” he looked up. “Right? That’s why it’s softer here,” he tapped the canvas gently. “Because you still want to love them.”

Minghao nodded.

“I think it’s beautiful,” he said. “Even without the colors. I’ll come back and see it properly one day,” he gently patted Minghao on the back. “Okay? So please keep it so we both can appreciate it.”

Minghao felt a smile tugging at his lips, the approval causing a warmth to blossom in his chest. He didn’t hesitate to step forward, hugging Seungcheol tight. He could appreciate the hopeful tone in his voice: they’d both find their soulmates one day. Even if they never returned to this piece, they held out hope. That’s all they could do, after all.

Minghao was more nervous than he ever wanted to admit. What color would be linked with that? He hoped it wasn’t any kind of gray. Yellow? Yellow had associations with anxiety. He learned that in a class once. Maybe a desaturated yellow: nothing like the pretty, bright shade he’d been seeing all day. He hoped you weren’t bothered by the colors you were seeing. Minghao stood in an art gallery the day the exhibit opened, staring up at where his painting had been hung up. His friends had been there, too, making time to come see his work displayed the way they always told him it deserved to be. The little plaque next to it had his name and the dimensions and the medium underneath the title 缘分.

“It means fate,” he said as best as he could when he’d been given a strange look by the woman organizing the whole exhibit. There wasn’t a direct translation, so the words “yuán ​fèn” and “fate” had been printed next to it. “It’s like... this force that brings people together.”

She liked it. He felt a swell of pride at that.

Seokmin gently patted him on the back of the shoulder, a pamphlet in his hand. “I’m going to go look around,” he said. “Do you want to come?”

Minghao shook his head. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he promised. He looked back at his work. “I need to process this.”

Seokmin had chuckled. “Take your time,” he said. “You did well.”

Minghao stood there, hands tucked into his coat pocket as he stared up at the painting still. All his work was just for a week’s exhibit... and yet he couldn’t be disappointed with it. He was paid for this. It was more exposure than he’d received before. Seokmin had drifted away to join back up with the others, the group having dispersed soon enough to leave Minghao in his thoughts. Wonwoo passed by with his soulmate’s hand in his own, looking at the pamphlet as they decided what they wanted to look at next. Had other artists found their soulmates? He’d only met a few of them beforehand, congratulating them on their work and talking art with them before they moved on.

He stepped forward, drawn in toward his own painting by some mysterious force in the same moment a person had been walking past. You’d walked straight into him, both of you lost in different things (you’d been busy reading the pamphlet and trying to figure out where your friend’s piece was being displayed) at that moment. Minghao went to say something, either to apologize or to tell you to be more careful when he noticed that things were changing in his field of vision. The shirt you were wearing was turning red, the jacket he wore was dark brown rather than the black he thought it was, and he could see the pops of red and blue and purple in his own painting.

Minghao thought he could kiss you right then and there from the pure joy of getting part of himself back. He could see the bewilderment on your face as you stared at him, lips parted in shock. He’d never claim that he loved you immediately, but... He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t ready to.

He introduced himself after a moment. “Do you want to take a look around with me?”

You smiled after a moment. “I think I’d like that a lot, Minghao.”

Minghao didn’t expect you to take his hand, but he... liked it more than he wanted to admit. You introduced yourself a moment after, already talking about the fact that one of your friends had sculpted something for this exhibit and that you came out to support her, and Minghao could only smile at the pretty look in your eyes. 

Maybe yuán ​fèn had brought the two of you together in the end. Now it was his job to help keep you two together.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #minghao x reader #xu minghao x reader #minghao x you #xu minghao x you #the8 x reader #the8 x you