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#I love one purple ghost boi
emacrow · 11 days
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Danny stuck in justice league dimension, where he can see and hear ghosts in his deages form. A couple persistent ghosts kept trying to bribe him to get adopted by a fruitloop.
"But your majesty.." a hoarsed female whispering of the ghosts who were floating behind Danny trailing along side him..
"Batman mean well, you didn't had to kick him so hard in the shin.." said a stern male voice whom sounded disappointed but amused.
"Batman is a fruitloop and I know he have a underground lair with how many similar robins he got!" Danny grumbled after he stole some purple clown's cash wallet.
"You have to admit Thomas deary, he did just jump out of nowhere and scared the poor boy half to death. He gets that from you." Said another female ghost.
"Oh, when he act all creepy, he get it from me but when he all suave and so Adonis like, then he is your son." Grumbled a male ghost who kicks can only going through muttering every now and then.
"Well you did say yes when I proposed to you, my love~." Purred the female ghost looking all smugged inching over to the male ghost.
"Ew, go be gross somewhere else." Danny pretending to fake gag after he peek back to the ghosts whom were literally fighting one moment and acting all ooey gooey like.
Danny should've took those lesson from Wulf to learn how to make a portal through dimension..
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bet-on-me-13 · 8 months
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The Ghost King's Son
So! Cloning is a difficult process.
It takes time, lots of time. Sure, it's possible to accelerate the Growth of a Clone to make them older in a shorter time frame, but that often leads to Destabilization within weeks of completion.
And Cadmus didn't want to take any chances when designing their Kryptonian/Human Hybrid. They started growing him much earlier than they originally did, and let him grow at a semi-normal rate for most of his life.
This comes back to bite them in the butt however, when an asset breaks out of containment and ruins their Internal Power Generators. This causes a blackout that takes hours to resolve, and by the time they fix it all and reestablish the Security Systems, they notice one of the Clones is missing.
The Kryptonian/Human Clone has escaped.
...
Kr-1 is confused. He had woken up in a tube a few hours ago to some alarms, and decided he didn't like it, so he broke out. Then he wandered around until he ended up outside, and just kept on Wandering.
It had been hours, and he didn't know where he was. It seemed to be some type of Forest, but he didn't know what kind.
He just kept on wandering. It started to get boring though, the trees all looked the same and there weren't even any animals around. Then, something interesting happened!
A green thing appeared in the air! It was glowing and swirly and had a kind of pull to it. So, he touched it. And it sucked him in. And now he wasn't in the Forest. And this place seemed much more interesting!
There were a bunch of floating rocks, and the sky was green, and everything else was purple.
And there was a man. Looking at him hurt his eyes, he seemed to be a kid and then an man and then an old man and then a kid again whenever he blinked. He was saying something, but Kr-1 didn't understand him. He didn't think he had been taught language yet? What was language?
The Kid/Man/Old-Man lead him to a big building made of bricks and mortar. It looked like a big spiky building with towers and walls and stuff. Inside it looked cool, with candles and carpets and even more stuff.
He was taken to a room with a guy who didn't hurt his eyes to look at. He had white hair and green eyes, but his skin wasn't blue like the old guy. He had a piece of ice on his head, it looked like a crown but it was glowing.
The Guy walked up to him and pointed to himself, and kept repeating something. "Danny".
Eventually Kr-1 realized that it was his name. He then pointed to Him and said "name?"
He tilted his head confused, and the guy, Danny, let his head fall with a sigh.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought."
He wondered what those words mean?
...
It had been a few years since the newly dubbed Conner had begun to live with Danny.
He had been hesitant to adopt the Living 9 yr old Child when Clockwork had brought him to his Castle, explaining that he had run into a Natural Portal, but he had accepted in the end.
It took a while to teach Conner how to understand Language. He seemed to know very little for a kid his age, but after Clockwork had dug around his personal timeline they figured out that he was a Clone. He probably hadn't reached the Information Planting Stage of development when he escaped.
After learning about this however, Danny began teaching him everything he should have learned in his early life, such as Elementary level education and some social interaction. He even brought around Ellie to see if she had any advice for helping him develop into a healthy young boy.
She did help a bit, but was mostly preoccupied with spoiling her new Nephew rotten.
Eventually, Conner had caught up to the level he should have been at his age, and started living in both the Realms and in Amity.
He was having a good life, had some great friends, and was even starting to learn to use his Kryptonian Powers now that they were coming in.
He loves his new Family, his Dad is goofy and fun, his Aunt Ellie likes to spoil him rotten, his Aunt Jazz is the responsible one but still loves him, and even his grandparents are great in their own Insane way.
But not all great things can last.
...
It was supposed to be a normal Field Trip. Conner was 15 and his school was taking a Trip to Washington DC, to see the sights or to learn about history or something.
But stuff happens. They just so happen to pass by a certain lab, that lab just so happens to be testing out a new Yellow Sun Energy Detector, and one of the Scientists who worked on Conner just so happens to see him in the bus as it passes by and the detector goes off.
In the end, they manage to recapture him and place him back into his Pod, beginning to prep him for Reeducation. (Let's say they mamage to repress his memories)
Cut to 1 year later and a team of Sidekicks break into the Lab and successfully steal away the Clone again.
The Clone who knows he had a dad who had black hair and blue eyes, who helped him use his powers, who looks a lot like Superman.
Conner, in his slightly Amnesiac state thinks he has already met Superman and that he had raised him. Which makes it so much more hurtful when Superman outright rejects him. He thinks his Dad just rejected him, the Dad who he thinks he remembers loving him very much.
(Danny had been frantically looking for his son for over a year now. Where is he? Is he Okay? What happened to him? He knows at least that he isn't dead yet, but he really wants to find his son)
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blackkwidowed · 3 months
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Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.
I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh
just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry
When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.
Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.
Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.
You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"
She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.
"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."
You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.
"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."
You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.
"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"
She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."
You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.
You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"
They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."
Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."
-
What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.
She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.
You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.
Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.
"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.
"For what, baby?"
"Being here when I need you."
You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.
"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."
Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."
You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.
She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.
"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.
You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."
You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."
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kisses4reid · 12 days
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big change | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - cutting spencer’s hair results in more than just a ‘big change’ appearance wise.
genre - fluff!!!!! cutesy yearning
warnings - idk u scared of haircuts?? scissors??? kissing?? (barely edited btw)
a/n - sometimes i black out and write a fanfic and then find it later on and then i’m like shit this kinda fire and then i edit it and then i post it and then-
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You roll your chair over to Spencer’s desk after much staring, and rest an elbow on a low stack of manila folders. Your sneakers squeak as you slow yourself, causing a visible flinch from the long haired boy.
His brunet hair was flicked up at the ends which touched his shoulders, the front pieces tucked behind his ears. As he lifted his gaze, hard expression softening immediately, you whispered, “I know your secret.”
His smile jolted, heart beat quickening. You had a cheeky smile on, hair twirling between your fingers, talking so low. You couldn’t possibly know his secret.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He asked, placing his pen down and turning to give you his full attention.
“You don’t know how to cut your hair.” His long hair suited him, you thought he looked as handsome as he did on your first day of work how many years ago. The day Spencer fell in love.
Dumbfounded, Spencer replied with a pout, “I know how to cut my hair.”
You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly he was aware of the jagged lines and length of his hair, and how he was now bringing hair ties with him everywhere. Which was actually convenient for all female members of the team. He had to admit, it was inconvenient at times, and it wasn’t his favourite to deal with or to look at. He looked back into your sparkling expecting eyes, smiled softly, and continued, “You should cut it for me.”
You lifted your head from your palm and raised your eyebrows, a pink flush ghosting your cheeks. The offer was innocent, it was a favour, but something about it felt so domestic in your head that you couldn’t help but smile hard, cheeks pressing, “Yeah, of course.”
You pushed off his desk and returned to yours, though his gaze never left your sunny appearance.
The next day, you were knocking on a familiar apartment door, rocking on your sneaker heels, eyes wandering anywhere but where you thought Spencer would be when he opened the door. But even when he did open his door, after a thud and small ‘ow’, you couldn’t help but look at him and savour the last moments with his long hair.
He had a navy blue sweater over a white t-shirt, some sweatpants that looked more formal from afar, and mis-match socks on. You gulped and stepped into his apartment, taking everything in as if you hadn’t been there before.
You took off your light purple scarf and placed it on the kitchen counter, along side the small hair cutting kit you had gotten a few years ago (you couldn’t afford a hair cut before your first day at the BAU, it was a diy emergency).
The apartment was dark and cosy, cabinets a rich wood tone, countertops squeaky clean, couches plush and thrifted. You two often talked about the best thrift stores to visit, you had even planned to go to one together one day. As Spencer pulled a wooden bar stool into the kitchen to sit on, you tied your own hair up, reminding yourself of why you were here.
He smelt amazing, like a new book and burnt marshmallow, and as he gazed into your eyes waiting for you to speak, a cat caught your tongue. You were alone in this warm apartment, only the soft music of Spencer’s old playlist in the background, and a heart beating that you weren’t sure was yours or his.
“Um- Okay. Do you have a reference photo or?”
“Yeah,” he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and showed you a reference photo. It was like he wanted to be a boy band member, and as you imagined him with it, you couldn’t be happier.
He got nervous watching your reaction, it was a very drastic change. You placed his phone on the counter top next to your hair kit, his eyes following your every move like if he blinked you would dissipate. And when a small smile ghosted your face, he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders.
"I like it."
"Good."
You leaned close to Spencer, your heat radiating onto him, to pull a lever on his chair to lower him to your eye level. A spray bottle appeared in your hand while the other covered Spencer's brown eyes. Suddenly, cold sprits of water caused Spencer to flinch every time he heard the trigger fire, causing you to giggle lightly. "It's just water." "I didn't get any warning though." He replied sheepishly. He couldn't hear much over his heartbeat, or see much other than you.
The next 15 minutes was spent in radio music and being surrounded by your sweet perfume, trying not to grab you or touch you as much as he wanted to. You were stood in front of him now, eyes focused on his bangs and the hair around his ears, scissors and comb in hand, and he couldn't stop gazing into your eyes like a little boy looking at the stars.
You were utterly gorgeous, beautiful, unreal. Spencer often wondered, especially at the start of your relationship, how nobody else had tried to date you in the team, or in general. But as the two of you grew closer, he realised you were telling everyone no. You were waiting for someone, and it made his heart break everytime he remembered your words.
If only he knew. Your hands jittered slightly, feeling insecure at his hard gaze that you simply couldn't ignore. You hoped in the dim lighting he couldn't see your red cheeks or steep breaths, or that he could. You hoped you never finished cutting his hair, and you thought of other ways you could stay this close. He was tall, warm, comfortable. He was smart, caring, clean. He was Spencer, who wouldn't want to stay with him? A gulp escaped you, and he ripped his eyes off of yours, looking down to avoid your eyes and to see the damage.
There was piles of hair beneath your feet now, and he smiled at the sight.
"Spencer, stop moving your head. I couldv'e cut off your eyebrows." Your laugh filled the apartment, and he looked back up at you.
He hadn't realised how far you had gotten, your eyes scanning his hair for any improvements before a small smile of approval appeared on your cheeks. A breath escaped him. You turned to close your kit. He stood up and placed a hand on the front of your neck, turning your head, and planting his lips on yours.
You squeaked in surprise, quickly kissing back as his hands traveled to your cheeks, holding onto you like you were the only girl in the world. Your fingertips splayed on his chest, you pulled away only to be followed for another kiss, only broken up by a millisecond of a breath.
You opened your eyes and pushed him softly away, noticing the lipstick now stained on his lips and around them. The dim kitchen was spinning, your chest was heaving, and your heart was racing a million beats per minute. You even got a little light-headed before Spencer took his hands from your face and rest them on your waist.
He was much taller now that he wasn't sat, and he looked even more handsome with the haircut you had given him. For a second you thought you were hallucinating. Spencers eyes played between your lips and your eyes, before meeting you in the middle once again. He lifted you slightly, kissing you with movements full of yearning and passion, slowly with multiple breaths in the middle to give you time to reject him (which he expected), but you never did.
You put one hand on his cheek as he pulled away. He smiled widely at you, taking the enthusiasm back as a good sign. He didn't totally fuck up. You whispered, "You kiss your barbers often?" He replied with a cheeky smile, "Only you."
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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justauthoring · 4 months
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the trees told me about you.
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the trees whisper to you and gojo thinks that makes you special.
a/n: i just started watching frieren and i NEEDED something fantasy okay???? also, i love him <3
pairing: prince!gojo satoru x f!elf!reader
The trees whisper to you.
Whisper words that ghost past your ears and leave your eyes sparkling with warmth, staring at the twinkling green leafs that bristle in the wind. 
No one else can hear them, except for you. 
Some think you're mad, others just don’t like you cause you’re different – either way, you’ve long ago learned not to care.
Because the trees speak to you, tell you secrets of the world and bring you the love you’ve never felt elsewhere. They don’t judge you because you look different, and they make you feel included – loved.
So even though you’re glared at and cruel words are whispered behind your back;
She’s not right. Spending her days talking to trees…
They say her parents abandoned her when she was young… you don’t have to wonder why.
What a lonely life… but no one wants to talk to a girl who thinks trees speak.
You’ve learned that there’s no point worrying and no point in trying to change their minds. 
A life of solitude is one you’ve accepted for yourself. And besides, you don’t feel all that alone in the first, shrouded by trees, protected from the small, the feeling of the dirt and grass and earth beneath your fingers as you smile and laugh and talk.
Yeah, you don’t feel alone at all.
At least, until you meet him.
-
“You know they all think you’re insane, right?”
A moment ago, you’d been positive you’d been alone. You hadn’t heard him walk up, the crunch of his footsteps along the forest floor or even the rustling of his clothing; so when you hear his voice, so much louder, harsher, sharper than the voices that whisper in your ears, it makes you jump.
You’re startled, incredibly so. You lose your footing beneath you, your bum hitting the ground harshly as you turn your head to face the voice, worrying just who it was that had snuck up on you.
It’s a boy. Roughly your age, or at least you assume so. He’s tall. Even though you’re on the ground, you know he’d tower over you. He’s got bright white hair that shifts to a purple hue when the sun hits him just right. And his eyes are a striking blue that rivals even the sky and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
You’d lived in your small village all your life and you’re positive you’ve never seen this boy before.
“Who… who are you?” Your words come out shakier than you want but then again, you’re not all that accustomed to speaking to others. Most of your time is spent listening… and even you know there’s a difference between listening to trees and real people. You’ve never had someone speak so directly to you before – most of the time, they opt for whispering behind your back even though both you and them are aware you can hear them.
Still, you force yourself to speak; “what are you doing here?”
He’s grinning. Ear to ear. And it’s wide and it’s bright and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that seems some sort of mischievous, yet, the smile feels real and genuine and almost… kind(?).
Then, he’s crouching, moving so he’s more level to you and his head tilts to the right. “Gojo Satoru,” he introduces, saying his name with pride. “And I am going for a light stroll in the woods.”
Gojo Satoru…
Gojo…
That’s… that’s last the name of the king—
Your eyes widen, instantly shifting to meet his gaze while he continues to just smile at you, bright and happy, hands clasped in front of him without a care in the world. You take in his clothes properly then, the detailing and the quality of the fabric, hemmed with laces – clothes you’ve never even had half enough coin to buy.
Clothes you’d never be able to buy.
You’d heard the King had a son but you’d never seen him or any drawings of him either.
A boy that looks like this though? Looks like he could be the King’s son.
“I ventured through the village beforehand,” he gestures over his shoulder. “You are not well-liked.” 
You blink out of your daze, frowning at his words.
Shifting, you move so you’re sitting straighter, straightening out your blouse as you glare at him. “That’s rather rude.”
He shrugs, still grinning. “You didn’t deny it though.”
And you frown because you know he’s right.
“Okay, so, what’s the King’s son doing taking a stroll in the woods well outside of the castle grounds?”  
He pauses, raising a brow; “so you did recognize me…” He hums lightly, pointing at you. 
You nod; “yes, I did.”
You’re well aware that your lack of respect for the King’s son could get you arrested, or worse. But, you don't care all that much. You figure that Gojo would’ve done something by now if he was really bothered by it, and… well, he’s the one who snuck up on you in the first place.
Laughing lightly, Gojo shrugs; “couldn’t stand being there anymore.”
You raise a brow; “the castle?”
He nods. “It’s so… stuffy! Gods, no one knows how to have any fun in there! And I'm constantly getting reprimanded for trying to liven the place up a little.” His words are dramatic, doubled by his actions as he wildly waves his hands around, rolling his eyes as he sulks. “You’d think royalty, with all the money we have, would know how to make things at least a little exciting… but no! They’re dreadfully boring.”
He finishes his rambling with a loud huff, and a second passes before you burst out in laughter.
Gojo blinks at you, once, twice, stunned before he’s grinning once more.
“That’s funny?” He asks, watching you amusedly.
Clutching at your stomach, you shake your head; “sorry,” you gasp. “I just never expected the King’s son to be so… un-princely?”
Chuckling, Gojo’s eyes trail your figure as you continue to laugh; “no?”
“No,” you snort, calming yourself down. Then, a second later, you glance at him; “so you ran away?”
“For now,” he agrees. “And you?”
You blink; “what about me?”
“What are you doing here?”
Your smile fades. “Well… you heard.”
“So, you really do talk to trees?”
You pause, bewildered. “You believe me?”
“Why would you lie?”
And it’s the first time you’ve heard someone say that to you… because, yes, why would you lie? Why would you make all this up?
And yet he’s the first one who believes you.
“I’ve never seen someone like you before you, you know,” he shuffles closer and your breath halts, eyeing him as he leans in. “I thought you all died out.”
Subconsciously, your fingers move to touch the tip of your pointy ears that’s hidden by your hair. “We did,” you whisper, “it’s just me.”
Resting his head on his crossed arms, Gojo fidgets in the spot. “That’s unfortunate.”
You hum, not sure how else to respond. It was unfortunate and sad, but no one else had ever seemed to think so. At least not anyone in your village. Scorned and judged because of your smaller stature and your pointy ears… you were a freak amongst humans in your village and they constantly liked to remind you of the fact.
“You think the trees talk to you because you’re different?”
Wide eyed, you turn to Gojo. “What?”
“I don’t hear them,” he frowns, and he strains his ear, cupping it for emphasis as if that’ll help. “And I’m royalty. They should talk to me… but they don’t. I bet it’s because you’re an elf. Makes you extra special then.”
Lips parting, you glance around, taking in the trees, hearing the whispers that have softened, before turning back to his blue eyes. “More special than the prince?”
He smirks; “I guess,” he obliges, chuckling. “Just this once.”
You smile. A real, genuine smile.
“You shouldn’t hide them, either.”
“Hm?”
“Your ears,” he explains, reaching forward. You barely have time to react before he’s brushing back your hair, the tips of his fingers brushing against the skin of your ears as he tucks the hair behind, revealing your insecurity to his eyes. He doesn’t look away, and panicked, you watch him, overwhelmed by how close he suddenly is, breath stuck in the back of your throat.
But he doesn’t look disgusted or freaked out.
He looks… amazed.
“You shouldn’t hide them,” his gaze shifts back to yours, grinning again but this time it’s softer, more demure. “They’re what make you you.”
“They make me look strange. Different,” you mumble to yourself, lowering your gaze as you attempt to pull your hair back out from behind your ear.
Gojo grabs your wrist, small in his own grasp, halting your movements.
You turn to him with parted lips.
“No,” he whispers and it’s the softest he’s sounded, but yet, it’s still so confident. Like he doesn’t doubt a single word he says. “No, they make you special.”
You stare back at him, stunned. But you don’t pull away and you don’t move. You like it, having him this close. This boy who you've just met. This boy who is the King’s son. The prince. Next in line for the throne.
This boy who’s made you feel more normal than you ever have your entire life.
But then he’s pulling away, despite the disappointment that burns through you, standing up straight as you crane your head up to look at him. He’s grinning, ear to ear again, as he takes small steps back.
“I should go,” he explains, laughing. “My father is probably throwing a fit. But, come back tomorrow okay?”
You raise a brow, tilting your head in wonder.
He just laughs.
“I plan to run away again.” 
Is all he says and then he’s turning, offering you a short wave before disappearing through the thick of the trees, leaving you to yourself and the whispers.
You stare at the place he left, undeniably grinning from ear to ear yourself now.
“Yes,” you nod to the whispers. “I think I like him too.”
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makingqueerhistory · 8 months
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Queer Books Challenged in Florida Schools and Libraries
There are some affiliate links below in case you want to support MQH.
Gender Queer: A Memoir, Maia Kobabe: Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma and fundamental violation of pap smears.
The Color Purple, Alice Walker: Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance and silence. Through a series of letters spanning nearly thirty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery and Sofia and their experience. The Color Purple broke the silence around domestic and sexual abuse, narrating the lives of women through their pain and struggle, companionship and growth, resilience and bravery.
Julián Is a Mermaid, Jessica Love: While riding the subway home from the pool with his abuela one day, Julián notices three women spectacularly dressed up. Their hair billows in brilliant hues, their dresses end in fishtails, and their joy fills the train car. When Julián gets home, daydreaming of the magic he's seen, all he can think about is dressing up just like the ladies in his own fabulous mermaid costume: a butter-yellow curtain for his tail, the fronds of a potted fern for his headdress. But what will Abuela think about the mess he makes -- and even more importantly, what will she think about how Julián sees himself? Mesmerizing and full of heart, Jessica Love's author-illustrator debut is a jubilant picture of self-love and a radiant celebration of individuality.
Drama: A Graphic Novel, Raina Telgemeier: Callie loves theater. And while she would totally try out for her middle school's production of Moon over Mississippi, she can't really sing. Instead she's the set designer for the drama department's stage crew, and this year she's determined to create a set worthy of Broadway on a middle-school budget. But how can she, when she doesn't know much about carpentry, ticket sales are down, and the crew members are having trouble working together? Not to mention the onstage AND offstage drama that occurs once the actors are chosen. And when two cute brothers enter the picture, things get even crazier!
Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas: Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can't get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school's resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave.
I Am Billie Jean King, Brad Meltzer: This friendly, fun biography series focuses on the traits that made our heroes great--the traits that kids can aspire to in order to live heroically themselves. Each book tells the story of one of America's icons in a lively, conversational way that works well for the youngest nonfiction readers and that always includes the hero's childhood influences. At the back are an excellent timeline and photos. This volume features Billie Jean King, the world champion tennis player who fought successfully for women's rights. From a young age, Billie Jean King loved sports--especially tennis! But as she got older, she realized that plenty of people, even respected male athletes, didn't take women athletes seriously. She set to prove them wrong and show girls everywhere that sports are for everyone, regardless of gender.
This One Summer, Mariko Tamaki: Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. One of the local teens - just a couple of years older than Rose and Windy - is caught up in something bad... Something life threatening. It's a summer of secrets, and sorrow, and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.
Marriage of a Thousand Lies, Sj Sindu: Lucky and her husband, Krishna, are gay. They present an illusion of marital bliss to their conservative Sri Lankan-American families, while each dates on the side. It's not ideal, but for Lucky, it seems to be working. She goes out dancing, she drinks a bit, she makes ends meet by doing digital art on commission. But when Lucky's grandmother has a nasty fall, Lucky returns to her childhood home and unexpectedly reconnects with her former best friend and first lover, Nisha, who is preparing for her own arranged wedding with a man she's never met.
And Tango Makes Three, Peter Parnell: At the penguin house at the Central Park Zoo, two penguins named Roy and Silo were a little bit different from the others. But their desire for a family was the same. And with the help of a kindly zookeeper, Roy and Silo got the chance to welcome a baby penguin of their very own.
More Happy Than Not, Adam Silvera: In the months following his father's suicide, sixteen-year-old Aaron Soto can't seem to find happiness again, despite the support of his girlfriend, Genevieve, and his overworked mom. Grief and the smile-shaped scar on his wrist won't let him forget the pain. But when Aaron meets Thomas, a new kid in the neighborhood, something starts to shift inside him. Aaron can't deny his unexpected feelings for Thomas despite the tensions their friendship has created with Genevieve and his tight-knit crew. Since Aaron can't stay away from Thomas or turn off his newfound happiness, he considers taking drastic actions. The Leteo Institute's revolutionary memory-altering procedure will straighten him out, even if it means forgetting who he truly is.
Melissa, Alex Gino: When people look at Melissa, they think they see a boy named George. But she knows she's not a boy. She knows she's a girl.
Melissa thinks she'll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte's Web. Melissa really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can't even try out for the part... because she's a boy.
With the help of her best friend, Kelly, Melissa comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte -- but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all.
A Quick & Easy Guide to Queer & Trans Identities, Mady G, Jules Zuckerberg: In this quick and easy guide to queer and trans identities, cartoonists Mady G and Jules Zuckerberg guide you through the basics of the LGBT+ world! Covering essential topics like sexuality, gender identity, coming out, and navigating relationships, this guide explains the spectrum of human experience through informative comics, interviews, worksheets, and imaginative examples. A great starting point for anyone curious about queer and trans life, and helpful for those already on their own journeys!
This Book Is Gay, Juno Dawson: This candid, funny, and uncensored exploration of sexuality and what it's like to grow up LGBTQ also includes real stories from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, not to mention hilarious illustrations.
Little & Lion, Brandy Colbert: When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she's isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (as well as her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse.
King and the Dragonflies, Kacen Callender: Twelve-year-old Kingston James is sure his brother Khalid has turned into a dragonfly. When Khalid unexpectedly passed away, he shed what was his first skin for another to live down by the bayou in their small Louisiana town. Khalid still visits in dreams, and King must keep these secrets to himself as he watches grief transform his family.
It would be easier if King could talk with his best friend, Sandy Sanders. But just days before he died, Khalid told King to end their friendship, after overhearing a secret about Sandy-that he thinks he might be gay. "You don't want anyone to think you're gay too, do you?"
Sorted: Growing Up, Coming Out, and Finding My Place: A Transgender Memoir, Jackson Bird: An unflinching and endearing memoir from LGBTQ+ advocate Jackson Bird about how he finally sorted things out and came out as a transgender man.When Jackson Bird was twenty-five, he came out as transgender to his friends, family, and anyone in the world with an internet connection. Assigned female at birth and raised as a girl, he often wondered if he should have been born a boy. Jackson didn't share this thought with anyone because he didn't think he could share it with anyone.
The Black Flamingo, Dean Atta: Michael is a mixed-race gay teen growing up in London. All his life, he's navigated what it means to be Greek-Cypriot and Jamaican--but never quite feeling Greek or Black enough.
As he gets older, Michael's coming out is only the start of learning who he is and where he fits in. When he discovers the Drag Society, he finally finds where he belongs--and the Black Flamingo is born
Explore the full list here.
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apoemaday · 2 months
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Eurydice
by Carol Ann Duffy
Girls, I was dead and down in the Underworld, a shade, a shadow of my former self, nowhen. It was a place where language stopped, a black full stop, a black hole Where the words had to come to an end. And end they did there, last words, famous or not. It suited me down to the ground.
So imagine me there, unavailable, out of this world, then picture my face in that place of Eternal Repose, in the one place you’d think a girl would be safe from the kind of a man who follows her round writing poems, hovers about while she reads them, calls her His Muse, and once sulked for a night and a day because she remarked on his weakness for abstract nouns. Just picture my face when I heard -- Ye Gods -- a familiar knock-knock at Death’s door.
Him. Big O. Larger than life. With his lyre and a poem to pitch, with me as the prize.
Things were different back then. For the men, verse-wise, Big O was the boy. Legendary. The blurb on the back of his books claimed that animals, aardvark to zebra, flocked to his side when he sang, fish leapt in their shoals at the sound of his voice, even the mute, sullen stones at his feet wept wee, silver tears.
Bollocks. (I’d done all the typing myself, I should know.) And given my time all over again, rest assured that I’d rather speak for myself than be Dearest, Beloved, Dark Lady, White Goddess etc., etc.
In fact girls, I’d rather be dead.
But the Gods are like publishers, usually male, and what you doubtless know of my tale is the deal.
Orpheus strutted his stuff.
The bloodless ghosts were in tears. Sisyphus sat on his rock for the first time in years. Tantalus was permitted a couple of beers. The woman in question could scarcely believe her ears.
Like it or not, I must follow him back to our life -- Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife -- to be trapped in his images, metaphors, similes, octaves and sextets, quatrains and couplets, elegies, limericks, villanelles, histories, myths…
He’d been told that he mustn’t look back or turn round, but walk steadily upwards, myself right behind him, out of the Underworld into the upper air that for me was the past. He’d been warned that one look would lose me for ever and ever.
So we walked, we walked. Nobody talked.
Girls, forget what you’ve read. It happened like this -- I did everything in my power to make him look back. What did I have to do, I said, to make him see we were through? I was dead. Deceased. I was Resting in Peace. Passé. Late. Past my sell-by date… I stretched out my hand to touch him once on the back of the neck. Please let me stay. But already the light had saddened from purple to grey.
It was an uphill schlep from death to life and with every step I willed him to turn. I was thinking of filching the poem out of his cloak, when inspiration finally struck. I stopped, thrilled. He was a yard in front. My voice shook when I spoke -- Orpheus, your poem’s a masterpiece. I’d love to hear it again…
He was smiling modestly, when he turned, when he turned and he looked at me.
What else? I noticed he hadn’t shaved. I waved once and was gone.
The dead are so talented. The living walk by the edge of a vast lake near, the wise, drowned silence of the dead.
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Simon From The Wiggles
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word Count: 632
Warnings: dad!simon, mom!reader, simon's first born son being named tommy after his brother, fluff
Summary: Coming home after a mission to his favourite people in the world, Simon experiences one of the best moments of his life.
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(this is the guy being spoken about)
Simon had been off on a mission for a month or so, practically crawling to get back to you and your son, Tommy. The little bugger had just surpassed 10 months and he had began babbling. He was the most adorable thing and you both loved him to death. He was the light in the dark for Simon, much like you were the sun to his rain. 
When he finally did step back into your home, he immediately heard giggles coming from the living room. Tommy’s sweet little giggles. His babbling too, echoing throughout your house. He stripped off his gear, leaving everything by the door, including his mask. Simon stepped into the living room in just his compression shirt and tactical pants, smiling at the sight of you sitting on the ground, holding Tommy on your lap. 
The little boy’s eyes light up at the sight of his father, kicking his legs to get to him. Poor guy still doesn’t understand how walking works. Simon smiles, bending down to take the boy into his arms, tossing him up into the air and catching him again like a ball, just how he likes. 
You stand up, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek, smiling. “Hi honey, welcome home.”
He grins, “Hi lovie. You both have fun withou’ me?”
“Lots,” you nod at Tommy, nudging him with your nose. “Ain’t that right, bubba?”
The little boy giggles and fills the house with his little babbles. The sight makes Simon’s heart flutter. 
“Why don’t you two sit down, huh? I’m gonna go get started on dinner,” you kiss Tommy’s temple and Simon’s cheek. 
You head into the kitchen, preparing dinner. 
Simon sits down with Tommy, placing the little boy on his lap as he turns the tv volume back up. 
There’s these 3 guys, in different coloured shirts–blue, purple, and red–singing, with a girl in a yellow dress, bow in her hair. They look Simon’s age. He chuckles. Tommy’s face lights up, squealing.
“Mi-mom!” The boy babbles. 
Simon blinks. He does a double take. “What you sayin’, bubby?”
The boy giggles, still staring at the screen. He claps his hands, “Mi-mon!” 
It’s more audible this time too. But Simon still hears what he heard before.
“Lovie! He said i’! He said his firs’ word! My name! Lovie!” he shouts. 
You poke your head back into the living room. “Really?”
“Yeah! Say it agai’, bubby! Come on!” Simon’s voice is filled with excitement.
“Mi-mon! Mi-mon! Mi-mon!” Tommy claps and giggles at the top of his lungs. 
“Damn it, bubby. You ruined the surprise,” you shake your head. 
Simon furrows his brows in confusion. Why aren’t you excited like he is? Your first child just said his first word!
“Whadya mean, lovie? ‘his is amazin’!” Simon tosses his baby boy into the air. “My name!” 
“He wasn’t referring to you, Si,” you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. “One of his favourite characters in that show is called Simon…he said his name 2 days ago…I was going to surprise you.”
“What? What show?” Simon remains confused. 
“Simon…from…the wiggles…”
“‘M sorry, lovie, what the fuck did you jus’ say?” 
“The red guy on the tv, that’s him…” 
“The old guy? Tommy loves ‘im?” 
“Mhm.” 
The little boy in question is kicking to get back to the tv. 
“I’m sorry, honey…I know you were super excited and you should still be! His first word was Simon! We can tell people it was for you!” 
“Lil bugger,” Simon nudges his son. “Say it again.”
The boy giggles, not yet understanding his father. 
“Si, it’s a good thing, right?” you smile. 
“‘Course, lovie, he’s gonna be talkin’ soon, and he’ll be able to say daddy,” Simon tickles the boy. “Ain’t that right, Mi-mon?” 
Tommy’s eyes light up. “Mi-mon!” 
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won4ver · 3 months
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✈︎ no contact
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It really wasn’t his fault that he got jealous when other men talked to you, even with your little no-contact situation.
pairing : ex!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings + genre : suggestive. profanity. mentions of fighting. exes to ??. brief jealousy. switch!heeseung. switch!reader. no smut.
wc : 1.8
a/n : literally been on a heeseung craze lately
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“You done with those little boys now?” You flinched as hot breath blew onto your neck, a pair of familiar hands wrapping around your waist as he pushed his hips into yours.
You rolled your eyes with a scoff, biting your tongue as you removed the hands from around you in a haste manner.
You turned your body around, briefly whipping the taller man with your updo. You looked up at him with dark eyes, eyelashes framing your eyes in a way that made his knees weak.
“What park about no contact do you not understand?” You hissed at your ex-boyfriend, glare unresisting as he maintained your eye contact. His eyebrow rose at your stare, making a show of looking down your body, pausing at your chest before he connected your eyes again.
“I love it when you’re mean to me” A loud sound akin to the one a cat makes hissing left your mouth, top lip curling up as you look at him with disgust. “Makes my body feel so good” He purred, leaning his head down to your height as a coy smile played on his lips. Your gaze trailed down, watching the way his lips quirked at your gaze. “Promise they’ve only ever touched you” Your eyes snapped up as your face burned with embarrassment, “I don’t care” you lightly hit against his shoulder as you passed him.
Heeseung watched over his shoulder as you opened the door briefly pausing as you adjusted your outfit. He chucked to himself as his eyes trailed down your body, pausing at a specific spot on your lower back. A groan almost made its way through his lips, the memories playing through his mind the longer his gaze lingered.
As if he had x-ray vision, he could see everything beneath your shirt. The bruises that he left on your hips, purple with the marks of his procession. He could see your tattoo, the thorns wrapping around the dragon in swirls of spikes.
Most of all, he could see the way it looked while it rocked back against him. His head tilted back, resting against the wall as he regained his posture. He could feel the tightness of his jeans, the ghost of your hand rubbing against him as his scenarios played out.
“Fuck” Heeseung grunted out loud, fists tightening as the door slamming echoed across the room. In hindsight he knew he shouldn’t have followed you into the washroom, he really did.
But he couldn’t help it, especially not when he noticed that the men you were earlier entertaining watched as you entered, their eyes narrowed in on your swaying hips.
And so he didn’t stop the urge, he allowed his feet to follow you into the women’s washroom. He basked in the feeling of the heavy eyes watching him, he didn’t even have to look at them to feel the envy mixing in their gaze.
Was he making a claim on you, even after you both agreed to go no contact? Yes, he couldn’t let his girl go home with anyone other than him.
Losing you was the second worst thing that’s ever happened to him, first was agreeing to the no-contact bullshit you insisted on.
He agreed because he knew he’d get you back, it really was a no-brainer. Well to him at least.
You ignored the gazes on you as you made your way to an all but familiar table, filled with faces you’ve avoided since your big breakup.
Jake nodded towards you, tilting his head to the side as he observed the way your fists clenched against your side. “You alright?” A hand touched your shoulder, and the feeling of the calloused fingers almost immediately made you recognize the man attached to it. You looked to your side, eyes Jay with a look he recognized all too much.
“Tell your fucking best friend to leave me the hell alone, he’s pissing me off” Sunghoon scoffed at your words from across the table, tilting his shot back to fight the words crawling up his throat.
You looked over at the man sitting further from you, eyebrows furrowed as you glared at him. “What?” Sunghoon matched your stare with one you identified as amusement. “No” You raised your finger, closing your eyes as you shook your head.
Sunghoon heaved a laugh in response, his teasing smile broadening on his teeth. “You already knew what I was going to say, Doll.” He shrugged at you, his leather jacket hitting against the table in the process.
The air tensed as the three men looked over your shoulder, their eyes following the man walking towards you.
“Hey beautiful” a random man brushed Jay’s hand off your shoulder, replacing it with his own. The four of you cringed, Jake fake gagging as the man oogled you.
“Fuck off, she’s off limits” Jay pushed the hand off of you, grabbing a napkin from the table as he cleaned your shoulder off.
The man looked at all of them with a weird face, raising his hands as the three men all glared at him. “Woah my bad, didn’t know this pretty girl had little guard dogs” He went to turn around, freezing in place as he bumped into a large chest.
“Woah” He rebounded, his legs hitting the table as he went back a few feet. He looked up in confusion, eyes widening at the man standing above him.
Heeseung could feel his blood boiling, hot spores rising on his skin the second he saw a random man advance towards you.
“Heeseung-“ You stepped towards him, preparing to break up the fight he was about to cause. He barely looked at you as he pulled you behind him, his trembling hands grabbing onto one of your own.
Heeseung turned around, storming out of the club as he pulled you behind him. Even as he imagined all the ways he could hurt the man who touched you, his hands remained gentle with yours.
“You’re lucky she’s here, he literally would’ve smashed your head into the table for just looking at her” Jay shook his head at the terrified man, a small smile on his face as he saw the way Heeseung held the door open for you, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders the second you stepped outside.
“He’s literally insane” Jake rolled his eyes at the man standing beside them, rolling his neck to the side as he cracked it. “Nah, we all would’ve done it for her” Sounds of agreement came from the other two men beside Jake, all making a show of cracking their knuckles.
The entire way back to your apartment was spent in silence, Heeseung spent the entirety of the time staring at you with a stupid little lovesick expression. The soft look in his eyes made both your heart and pussy pulse, his gaze stirring something deep within you.
The second you entered your apartment building the doorman greeted the both of you, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the man beside you. “You’re back together?” He whispered shouted, his hand over his mouth and he giddily looked between the two of you. You only rolled your eyes at him whereas Heeseung beamed, a small smile on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Did you mean it?” Heeseung looked up from your heels dangling in his hands, his confused expression almost melting your facade. “Did you mean it when you said your lips haven’t touched anyone else?” You cleared your throat as you looked straight at the elevator doors, trying your best to act nonchalant.
“I’ve never kissed anyone except for you” You had to bite your lip to keep your smile down, opting to just nod your head as you faced away from the man beside you.
Heeseung took your question as an invitation to start a conversation with you, one that had his intentions clear from the beginning. “Um, have you kissed anyone else since we broke up?” He tried to remain casual, ultimately failing when his voice fell at the end of his question.
You merely shook your head, setting your lips in a line as you watched his reaction from the corner of your eye. “But you knew that, don’t think I didn’t know that you were watching me.”
Usually in situations like this people would opt to freeze, maybe even argue and try to defend themselves. Heeseung however, was different. He just stood there with a proud smile, nodding his head at what you were saying. “Of course, couldn't let my girl get swayed by anyone” He said it so confidently that if anyone outside of your small circle heard his words they’d be giving you whatever numbers they could pull out of their head.
You hummed at his words, eyes now looking up at the numbers displayed above the elevator door. three floors until yours. And as the next number lit up, as did your mind.
Within seconds you had Heeseung pinned, your smaller hands pressing him against the wall. “I’m a lot of things, but I'm definitely not your girl.” You whispered in his ear, lips touching the sensitive part of his neck as goosebumps rose on his arms.
You could feel Heeseung’s mid-body touch yours, small movements that wouldn’t have been noticeable if you weren’t already pressed tight against him.
“Aw, is my baby getting needy?” You mockingly cooed at him, baby-talking him as you allowed him to use your body for his pleasure. A soft sound left his mouth as he reached a certain angle, the perfect position for him to rub himself against your center.
“It’s really pathetic, the way you have to use me to get yourself off.” He whined in your ear, cheeks blushing as you continued talking down to him in his ear. “Your hand couldn’t compare to my pussy, could it?” He frantically shook his head back and forth, tears gathering in his eyes at your cruel attempts to break him.
You cooed at the sight, one hand leaving his wrist to caress his soft cheek. “That’s too bad, bad boys don’t deserve to feel good” You completely removed yourself from him, ignoring his pained gasp at his denied pleasure.
The elevator beeped right before it opened, the bright number symbolizing that you’ve reached your floor. “But I guess you could make it up to me, only if you promise to show me how those pretty lips work.” You took your heels from his hand, walking straight out the door as another, older, couple entered the elevator.
Heeseung had no time to allow the embarrassment to creep in, ignoring the horrified looks of the other couple as they saw the wet patch against his pants.
It was rare that Heeseung let you take charge, but he loved it more than anything. Your mean words always made him feel things he never knew he was even capable of feeling before he met you. He’d let you ruin him over and over, all long as he fell asleep with you in his arms.
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darby-rowe · 4 months
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18+ | nsfw | mdni cw sub!coriolanus snow, fem!dom!reader, reader gets mean, mentions of dead parents, mentions of sex work (reader fantasizes about coryo selling his body for money), handjob, edging, cock slapping, nipple play, humiliation, degradation, slight dacryphilia, mentions of mommy kink, light bondage, male squirting/piss
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"you're a piece of shit, you know that?" you growled through gritted teeth as you enter the thirty-minute mark of edging coriolanus snow. the squirming blonde boy was trapped in between your legs with his hands cuffed behind his back with a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs, and gagged with a thick, pink strip of cloth tied around his head. the head of his cock was nearly purple with how badly he needed release, but alas he was at your malevolent mercy, and deep down he knew he wasn't getting what he wanted anytime soon.
you reached your other hand around coriolanus's body and started tweaking at one of his hard nipples, causing him to whimper and squirm even more against your body. "poor, poor coriolanus snow," you cooed into his ear, your voice oozing with venom. "you've got such a big attitude for such a small boy. barely hanging by a thread as you continue to bleed your dead daddy's money bone dry. what? too self-righteous to get a fuckin' job?" you slap the shaft of coriolanus's cock, eliciting a noise that sounded halfway between a groan and sob.
"i think you'd actually make a decent handful of cash if you just sold your body," you turned your head to gaze at how coriolanus laid his head back on your shoulder, eyes brimming with tears and drool dripping down his chin. your hand left his dick to slowly ghost your fingertips up his torso. "you have such a pretty body — so fuckable and fun to play with. i'm sure there are plenty of men and women who'd love to get their hands on you, baby,"
you gripped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. the way his blue eyes looked so wet and puffy with tears made your pussy throb. "maybe i can even watch as your body gets used by desperate capitol perverts. how does that sound, huh?"
coriolanus shook his head in disapproval, making you tut. "aww, does my baby not like that idea?" you mocked. "well, guess you're stuck with me," you hand traveled back down to coriolanus's cock, but instead of going back to mercilessly pumping his shaft, you began rubbing the palm of your hand over his tip. you watched as his baby blue eyes widened then snapped shut, and you laughed as he began bucking his hips against your touch.
you gasp playfully. "does that feel good, you stupid slut?" you taunted, slapping the shaft of his cock before going back to torturing the tip. "open your eyes, fuckin' bitch. look at me while i play with you like the worthless fuckdoll that you are,"
and he did exactly as he was told, fluttering his pathetic eyes open to stare into yours while you tortured him so exquisitely. "you're nothing," you told him. "your family name means nothing without your daddy's money, and you know that. i mean, look at you — getting your cock tortured and ruined by a girl. is it because your mommy's dead, too? you don't have a reliable older female figure in your life so you cry and beg for the approval of pretty girls like me? huh? what's next, you're gonna start calling me mommy while you plead to cum? god, you're pathetic. i wish you could look at yourself and how close you are to shooting your load while i talk about how much of a worthless piece of shit you are. think about this the next time you wanna humiliate me in front of the entirety of the academy's senior class,"
as you continued to palm the head of coriolanus's cock, you noticed something different in the way he breathed and jerked his hips. this piqued your curiosity, so you kept going. and going, and going, and going, until you watched as coriolanus's face went beet-red as an unknown fluid came gushing out of his cock — almost as if he were squirting or pissing. he blinked and tears came strolling down his cheeks as he whimpered and groaned and bucked his hips. you couldn't help but to watch in amazement as this new discovery in coriolanus's physiology made your cunt ache with arousal.
and you laughed. you laughed right in his face as sobbed with embarrassment, kissing at his tears.
"aww, baby..." you cooed. "look at that — i made you squirt like a girl!"
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banner credits: chilumitos & eloquentreverie
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mockerycrow · 6 months
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I WANT IT (Soap x GN!Reader)
soap masterlist
summary; soap is on leave with the 141 and you’re visiting him. he invites you to meet the boys, and you get a little buzzed—he offers to take you home, but you get a little.. handsy.
authors note; i saw a tiktok video. that’s the excuse. i did not proofread this; i saw the tiktok and wrote it. and @kivino let me talk about this, blame them. /j
[WARNINGS; poor knowledge of motorcycles, alcohol ingestion (not enough to be drunk), extremely suggestive, groping, suggested exhibitionism, technically you did not ask for consent but Johnny enjoys every single second of this.]
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“IT WAS NICE meeting you guys!” You grin, shaking Johnny’s Captain’s hand, and then his fellow sergeants. You and, what was his name.. Ghost? You two settled on waves. “Likewise, mate.” Price hums, a smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, you’re always welcome, yeah?” Price glances at Soap and then you, earning a laugh from your chest.
“You sure you want Johnny bringing you home?” Ghost teases lightheartedly—he knows Johnny is careful, but he also knows Johnny rides fast. You smile at his tease, and you can tell he’s being just a tad bit serious. Ghost elected to be the Designated Driver for his Captain and Gaz, but he wouldn’t mind if he had to take you home, too. You aren’t drunk per say, but you definitely should not be behind a wheel nonetheless.
You shake your head no in response before saying, “I appreciate the concern, but Johnny has gotten me home safe plenty of times.” Johnny. That’s one thing the 141 has noticed; the only person they’ve ever known to be given permission to call Soap that is Ghost—and you now, apparently. Guess it makes sense when Johnny said, “Only L.T. and someone else can call me that.”
“If you say so, love.” Gaz laughs and pats your shoulder, glancing over to see Johnny gearing up his motorcycle, two helmets hanging off of the handle grips. Guess he came prepared, and is eager to set off. You say your goodbyes and after making sure the two drunk men and their chauffeur get into their vehicle safely, you walk over to Johnny, who’s wearing his gloves and his unzipped protective jacket. “Ye ready t’ride?” He asks with an excited grin—he’s been away for a couple of months and you haven’t ridden with him in at least a year.
“Always,” You reply with a grin of your own. Johnny helps you slip on the helmet and adjusts the straps accordingly, biting at the corner of his lower lip as he focuses on making sure you’re safe. You can’t help but wonder if he does the same thing whilst defusing an explosive device. “There we go.” Johnny chuckles before slipping his own helmet on, adjusting his straps. He teasingly flips down your visor before doing the same with his own—the sun is setting, to be fair—and he hops onto his motorcycle.
Johnny holds out an arm, helping you get into the back of the motorcycle behind him. You grunt as you situate yourself, your hands grabbing his waist as you wiggle a bit. Once you deem yourself safe and comfortable, you wrap your arms around his abdomen and lean against his back. Johnny tilts his head back, bonking his helmet into yours; his way of asking if you’re okay for to him go now, considering you two can’t hear each other. Johnny doesn’t have those helmets with speakers and microphones yet.
You laugh a bit before bonking him back, causing him to rev his motorcycles engine and you feel him begin to drive off. The air feels nice against what skin is exposed as Johnny pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road, slowly speeding up as there is no one else on the road with you two. Your eyes trace the purple-pink clouds and sky, the sun radiating a beautiful orange, the colors looking absolutely jaw dropping tonight.
Your mind begins to wander to the events of tonight; the drinking game that you ended up winning—you aren’t sure how—which is why you’re just a little buzzed. You think about Johnny’s teammates and how they all work together very nicely, even in a civilian environment.. and then your mind drifts to Johnny. Sweet ol’ Johnny in those fucking jeans.
God, you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but something about Johnny in the outfit he wore tonight was making you feel so feral. He is wearing some dark blue jeans that mold to his legs so perfectly, showing off his thick thighs, as well as a white t-shirt and a biker’s jacket over the shirt. Nonetheless, you felt like a goddamn dog because you swore you nearly drooled over him at least three times during the course of the night.
You aren’t sure what demon possesses you to give you the confidence that suddenly surges in your veins, but honestly you can’t bring yourself to care. Your arms slowly unwrap from around his abdomen, and you feel Johnny’s back muscles—that you wanna drag your nails down all of a sudden—tense up. You know he’s probably wondering what you’re doing, but you don’t pay that any mind as your hands go to his sides, slowly sliding down to over the curves of his hips. You feel the material of his jeans underneath your fingers and how the muscle is pressing against the seams—you just can’t help yourself.
You feel the bike turn as you begin to go around a curve in the road. Your hands squeeze his hips before one of your hands presses down and slowly rubs over his thigh to the inner part of it, your fingers squeezing the muscle covered by his jeans. You feel Johnny straighten his posture and you grin underneath your helmet, light arousal flowing through your veins as your other hand slowly moves to his lower stomach, right above the belt buckle of his jeans. You’re suddenly grateful Johnny decided—or more likely forgot—to keep his jacket unzipped, because you can’t resist sliding your hand underneath his shirt.
You feel his skin and the soft hair trailing up to his belly button—his goddamn happy trail, which the acknowledgment of it makes a hot flash to flow through you. Johnny’s stomach muscles flex under your touch and you feel him tense as your fingers threaten to dip underneath the waistband of his jeans. Your other hand drifts dangerously close to his groin, your fingertips nearly brushing directly where you want them to—or, actually seems like where Johnny wants them to.
You didn’t even notice that you’ve come to a stop, and Johnny grabs the wrist of the hand where your fingers are dangerously close to his crotch and cold panic flows through you; is he uncomfortable? Did you go too far, despite the late night flirts and hot, needy kisses over the years? No, none of that. You made the right decision, you realize, as Johnny presses your hand directly against his crotch, pressing your palm into his hardened, clothed cock at the fucking red light.
The cold panic is quickly replaced with burning arousal, slapping you right in the face as you feel a vibration from Johnny’s chest—he’s fucking groaning and rutting his hips into your hand like goddamn dog. Your eyes flutter shut as your lungs stutter in your chest, your hand groping his crotch. Your fingertips scratch at his happy trail, making the muscles underneath his skin stutter.
Johnny’s flips up his visor and looks over his shoulder at you as he shamelessly grinds into your palm, which you’re pressing down onto his cock now. You make eye contact and jesus, he looks fucking delicious. His eyes are half lidded and you can tell his face is red, his pupils blown out—you can barely see, but you know they are—and something tells you this isn’t ending when he drops you off, especially when you feel his cock twitch beneath his jeans when a car rolls up next to you at the red light.
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theres-a-body-here · 4 months
Note
Hi could you do Genji, Hanzo, Cassidy, lifewaver and Mauga (separately) where they have matching skins with thier s/o
It took some convincing to make these boys match with you, some more than others, but you were determined to be twinsies on the field.
I threw in two extras, as a treat
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Cole Cassidy - Sherlock Holmes and Watson
Took little to no convincing to have him match with you, but he was dead set on being Sherlock
This isn't negotiable
Expect to hear everything but your name out there
"Dear boy", "Watson", and "My dear" is all you're gonna be referred as
Cassidy will refuse to respond to you unless you refer to him as "sir" or "boss"
You could take a bullet to the side and he'll be kneeling over you like: "Hmm, yes, that is indeed a nasty wound my boy"
"You're a moron.....Sir" you groan out as he drags you to Mercy
Eventually, you really play into the roll
wrapping your arms around Cassidy from behind as you press your cheek against his
"Do you have a plan, Boss?"
He coughs, being caught off guard
"Yes, my dear Watson...it's uhh....ya know, this" He says as he spins peacemaker in his hands
"World's greatest detective, everyone" You remark sarcastically
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Genji Shimada - Kamen Rider
He's actually the one who first asked to match costumes
You both bickered over who to be
Genji insisted you dress as Evolto, but you also wanted to be Kamen
In the end, you both dressed as Kamen
Genji dressed as Kamen Rider Blade
You dressed as Kamen Rider Gaia
You both pose and exclaim with a loud "Henshin!" after every elimination
The others don't really get it
Genji kinda just shuffles over and hugs you, pressing his faceplate into your chest sadly after being called a "Power Ranger" for the 5th time.
You have to stifle your laughter as you comfort him
"It's not the same thing," he whines, voice muffled by your chest
"Yeah buddy, they're completely different franchises," you chuckle out, rubbing his back
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Niran "Bua" Pruksamanee - Bee and Flower
Pretty excited to match costumes with you
Niran took a pretty long time to pick which flower to dress as
"Maybe I should stick with Lotus, but...Jasmines..." he mutters as he brings fabrics to his chest, imagining himself as each flower
you sat on his bed wearing a bumblebee suit, watching on as Niran struggled to make a decision
He settles on fuchsia, bright purples and trailing fabric
Costume is so extravagant that you look comically out of place in your cheap Bee outfit
Niran doesn't mind, in fact, he finds it cute
He especially loves your puns
"Bee mine," you coo as you kiss his cheek
He chuckles as he returns the kiss
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Hanzo Shimada - Cupid and Eros
You're gonna have to bust out all your tricks to convince this man to wear something so, in his words, undignified
What ever you do to get him into the cupid costume, expect complaints
"This is....embarassing," he mutters begrudgingly as he sits on your bed, tugging at his pastel pink wings
The bathroom door opens as you step out in your Eros outfit
"How do I look, Babe?'
Hanzo's face immediately erupts into a blazing red
"Wh-What are you wearing?" he exclaims as he adverts his gaze, looking at anywhere but you
Your outfit is... minimal to say the least
Wings, red sash, sandals, bow, and a thin loincloth. That's literally it
Besides that? Nearly all of your skin was on display
"Aww, you don't like it?" you tease as you walk closer to Hanzo
You straddle his lap, feeling him stiffen under you
You cup his face while you rub his cheeks with your thumbs
"I'm just teasing you. I have a much more modest outfit ready
Hanzo lets out a sigh as he looks at you
You lean in closer, ghosting your lips over his ear
"This one is for tonight" you whisper
Hanzo swears you'll be the end of him one day
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Maugaloa Malosi - Māui and Hine-nui-te-pō
You brought up the idea of matching costumes and he instantly had a mischievous look in his eyes
He agreed on the condition that he chooses the theme
He dressed as Māui and he helped make a costume for you
You recognized Māui from a movie, but you had no idea who Hine-nui-te-pō was
"Don't worry about it" he assured you with a chuckle
You two had a blast on the battlefield with your matching costumes
Although, you couldn't help but think something was up every time Mauga glanced at you
He'd smirk and throw you a wink
But this was Mauga, so it didn't really set off a red flag
Its not until the end of the battle where a talon grunt said something
"What he'd do to convince you to dress like that?"
You looked confused. The grunt explained she was from New Zealand.
She told you the story of Māui and Hine-nui-te-pō
Your face went from shock, embarrassment, to rage
You stomped your way to Mauga, who wore a shit-eating grin
You stood in front of him as your swung your hands to slap him
But you're too short
"God dammit! Lean over, asshole!" you cry as you jump at him Mauga breaks into a fit of laughter as he picks you up and swings you around
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Jamison Fawkes - Yoshikage Kira and Killer Queen
Surprisingly, Junkrat was pretty hesitant to match costumes
He was worried changing clothes would include bathing
He likes his soot and burns thank you very much
"I have an aesthetic to maintain, mate"
But you knew how to break him
The moment the words "turns anything into a bomb" left your lips, he was instantly on board
Obviously he was gonna be the explosion cat
But since this was Junkrat, you had to approve his costume beforehand
You deadass had to explain to him why entering a bathtub of alcohol and pink sharpie markers to color his skin was a terrible idea
"But the damn cat's pink isn't it?" He asks, dumbfounded that you had a problem with his genius idea
"We'll use facepaint, babe"
You show off your costumes to the rest
Jamie wearing cat ears, Pink face paint, and leather gloves
You wearing a suit, dyed your hair blond, and severed mannequin hand in your pocket
After an ultimate that wiped out a good number of the enemy team, Junkrat clears his throat to speak
"Watashi no na wa "Kira yoshikage" nenrei 33-sai jitaku wa moriōchō hokutō-bu no bessō chitai ni ari ..."
The rest of you kinda stood around staring at him shocked
"I didn't know Mr. Fawkes knew japanese," Mei comments to you in a hushed voice, not wanting to interrupt Junkrat
You and Roadhog kinda look at each other
"He doesn't" you both say in unison
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Reinhardt Wilhelm - Knight and Squire
A Knight and his squire? Count him in!
To be honest, you being his squire is somewhat of a fantasy he has, so Reinhardt was pretty excited to match costumes with you
You let him have a major say in your outfit since it was apparent this was big for him
He picked out colors of the old Crusade; Muted browns, greens and vibrant golds
Reinhardt wore his Balderich outfit
He fumbled to find a camera to capture the moment
Before you two left to meet up with the others for training drills, Reinhardt stopped you
"Y/N...can you...do something for me?" He asks nervously, voice almost a whisper
"Yeah sure, what's up big guy?"
"Can you bring me my hammer?" he finally responds after a while
You shrug and walk over to grab the massive weapon, bringing it over with a bit of strain
You had an idea of why he asked you to do this
You knelt on one knee and raised the hammer with both hands
"Your hammer, Sir Wilhelm"
Reinhardt's hands clench into a fists, the fabric of the gloves making a creaking sound from the pressure
He pushes the hammer aside and pulls you in for a bone crushing bear hug
"You've made this old dog happy, Y/N" he mutters as he nuzzles his face into your neck
"Yeah, sure, no problem" you strain out as you see spots on your vision
Reinhardt drops you immediately
"Sorry..." he mutters as he pats your shoulder
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icaruien · 5 months
Note
more nanami content with top male reader pls 😩😩
You've got it, Captain!
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Nanami Kento was a man on the run.
It was an inescapable hell of his own making. The ghosts of his youth and his failures were a perpetual monster clinging onto his shoulders, curses designated just for him. Kento did not make a habit of being a coward, but he could not afford staying in a place like this.
So, he ran.
He ran, and ran, and ran and he kept on running until Time became a loose construct that could not suspend him; until Space became a volatile concept that could not keep him afloat. The Universe was at a constant state of expansion, and Kento ran as if he was trying to see how far it would go.
('It expands a pretty damn long way,' was what Kento would answer if he were asked that question. But no one did, no one was ever given the chance to. Kento always ran before they could stop him just long enough to ask.)
So, it must be some big cosmic joke that Kento found himself landed back here once again, at the centre of your gravity, pulled in and desperately trying to pull away from the boundaries of your magnetic field. You were his best friend, his favourite What If, his greatest Could Have Been.
You were not supposed to be here, buried hilt deep inside of him and moaning out his name as if it was a prayer worth worship over.
His nails dug into the skin on your back, threatening to break through and into the flesh, but you didn't seem to mind. Your mouth was still on his skin, teeth painting yearning all over the canvas of his skin in shades of purples and blues.
Fuck, he hadn't done missionary in so long. Hell, he hadn't even had anyone like this in a long time. He was always too cautious, too hesitant of what he would reveal. But it was you—you with your charming smile and bright eyes—and if Kento couldn't trust you with himself, then he couldn't trust anyone; not even himself.
Kento should be self-conscious. He had changed across the years since he had left you—gotten better; gotten worse. He was not the boy you knew, then. He had grown out of it, grown into it, grown up into something else entirely.
But you smiled at him the same, held him the same, and he could not find it in himself to grieve the boy he used to be.
Kento had become Schrödinger's Cat, trapped in his youth and in his present. You kissed him the same, but you fucked him different. You cradled his face the same, but your cock dragged against his walls. You liked him the same, but you loved him different.
Kento's back arched, feeling the tip of your cock hit his prostate, and he found he didn't mind it at all. He didn't mind it a single bit as long as you kept painting stars in the dark abyss behind his eyes. He didn't mind it a single bit as long as you kept fucking him as if he was a man precious, a man loved. He didn't mind it a single fucking bit as long as you would just—
"Kento." Your voice was ragged, fucked out, high off endorphins and adrenaline and sex and him. "Fuck, Kento, you feel so good."
And Kento couldn't say a damn thing back, because you were inside him, fucking him good, making him shake, and for a moment, Kento wasn't running anymore. He wasn't running, and he was neither here or there, but he was still in your arms. He still had you.
"Come on," he grunted. His arms tightened around you, forcing your body closer against him. "I wanna feel you."
He felt your breath fan against his skin, soft and incredulous, but you indulged. Your pace picked up, hands wandering from his hips up his chest over to cradle his jaw. Your mouth met his in a sloppy kiss—all tongue and teeth—while your hips snap against him harder.
Kento could barely think, pre-occupied by the feeling of your cock fucking against him, hard and rough, damnation and salvation all at once. You didn't seem to mind, though; tongue fucking into his mouth in rhythm with the way your hips moved.
Kento was not a religious man, but he would believe in the existence of god just for a moment; just for you, just because of you.
Kento didn't believe that he could be saved, but he would like to be for a split-second. He wanted to be divine, wanted to be beautiful all over again, if only so that you would not have to stain yourself with his filth. So that he could have you, over and over again, and there would be no sin in the act of it.
"Kento," you murmured against his skin, as if you still couldn't believe he was quite real. He let out an ugly sound at the way you spoke his name; half a sob, half a whimper. "Kento. God, Kento. You're finally here. I've missed you."
But for now—
For now, perhaps, he could have you. For however short the while, for however mortal the moment is.
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muwapsturniolo · 23 days
Text
✯𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲✯
IN WHICH…We experience a toxic relationship between a drug dealer and his baby momma
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! Toxic behaviors, slight domestic abuse (not really but I’m putting it as a warning anyway), drugs, sex, broken household
Words highlighted in orange is Chris and how he connects with the song. Pink highlighted words is Y/n (aka you) and how you connect with the song. Purple highlighted words is how both you and Chris (or others in the story) connect with the song.
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Chris sighs as the beaten-up screen door squeaks open, the hot LA air immediately rushing past his face. He lets it close by itself as he walks along the porch, taking a seat in his chair. He sets down his cup and sparks his blunt, closing his eyes as he inhales the grape-flavored tobacco leaf and weed.
The sound of laughter catches his attention, making him open his eyes. He scans the lawn briefly before he lands on two bodies rolling around in the yard, one bigger than the other.
He whistles catching both of their attention, the younger one gasping in excitement.
"Mama! Daddy is awake!"
Chris catches the eye of the child's mother and sighs.
I know this ship is sailed and this is dead I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP," yeah
He can see the irritation in her eyes, a feeling he has been all to familiar with for the last three years. He doesn’t know when it started but if he had to guess, it was a month after Kehlani was born, their relationship taking a turn for the worst.
The relationship was dead and he knew it, he knew from the beginning they wouldn't last. But he did it for her, he tried to make things work but it seemed like she was against him.
Kehlani runs as fast as her little legs can take her, diving right into Chris's lap. He laughs and quickly moves the blunt away so he won't burn the four-year-old, or get smoke in their face.
I know you gave up long time ago Boy, I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP"
Y/n watches Kehlani and Chris giggle and play with each other on the porch, her heart sinking. She hates to admit it but she was envious of her daughter having all of Chris's attention.
It seemed like he hated her.
From the moment Chris laid eyes on the child, she was pushed back on the backburner. It was difficult to handle, especially going through postpartum.
She tried to do better, act better, hoping Chris would give her an ounce of attention, but he would just ignore her.
She knew Chris had given up on their relationship a long time ago, and it hurt. However, she has come to terms with it.
She stands up and brushes the grass and dirt off her pants, walking towards the home. She runs up the porch steps and frowns seeing the blunt near her child.
She snatches the four-year-old off of his lap and gives him a dirty look, “Momma I want to stay with Daddy!”
“No, it’s lunch time and then you need to nap.” She says getting ready to walk in the house.
She stops when she hears Chris’s voice, “Let her stay out here while you make us lunch.” She turns and sees Chris putting the blunt in his mouth, his eyes trained on her.
“I said no, Finish your blunt and come make your own food.”
She opens the screen door and steps foot into the house, only to freeze hearing Chris’s mumbling.
“Fucking bitch.”
All I need's some Loving,
"Daddy, do you love me?" Kehlani's words make Y/n chuckle to herself, a small smile ghosting her lips.
"Of course I do baby. I love you with my whole life and beyond."
The four-year-olds next words make Y/n stop in her tracks, "Do you love momma the same amount?"
She knows what Chris is going to say, he's going to mask it to the child but he's going to make it clear that he doesn't love her.
She grabs the plates of food and starts walking to the table.
"I love momma a lot, the same way I love you"
His words catch Y/n off guard and she trips and falls, the plates breaking and the food going everywhere. Chris quickly sets Lani on the couch, telling her not to move before he rushes into the kitchen.
"What the fuck happened?" He asks as he sees Y/n surrounded by broken plates and food. "I-Im sorry, I ju-" his eyes soften seeing her sniffling, her eyes glossy with salt water.
He inches forward, careful to avoid the sharp glass before kneeling in front of her. "Talk to me ma, what's wrong?"
"Y-you said you love me....you haven't said it in so long." She sobs out, her whole body shaking. He quickly pulls her into him, rubbing her back softly. "Shh, I know, and I'm sorry. You know I love you baby, I could never stop loving you."
She sobs even harder and grips Chris tightly,
That's all she ever wanted to hear.
"Why don't we order tonight?"
some fucking
"Shhh mama you don't wanna wake Lani up do you?" Chris asks, holding back a groan himself. Y/n moans quietly, her head thrown back in pleasure.
"Taking me so well mama's. Whose pussy is this?"
"Fuck! it's yours- all yours daddy!"
"That's right."
And you say this shit don't matter But we always goin' at it, ain't no trustin
"Why do we always fight?" Chris asks holding the girl in his arms. He can see the gears turning in her head, thinking of multiple reason as to why they fight, but she tells him it doesn't matter.
"But it does matter...all we do is fight." He thinks to himself.
I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'
It's times like this that make Y/n despise the father of her child. He never wants to address anything, he always wants to leave shit in the air, causing more arguments.
She doesn't want argument, she hates arguing.
She wants love, but he has to settle for sex to 'cure' their problems.
And we fussin' and we fight, and you always wonder why
Y/n scoffs as Chris continues to yell at her, "You always do this stupid shit Y/n! You wanna love me one minute, then you accuse me of fucking cheating and hating you!"
"Because you fucking do!" She screams at the top of her lungs. Chris stares at her with no emotion, used to her raising her voice at him.
"You asked me the other night why we always fussin' and fighting and it's because of you!" She stabs her finger in his chest. "You treat me like shit! I hear you calling me out my fucking name, I catch you giving me dirty looks!"
"That doesn't mean I hate you! And it sure as hell doesn't mean I cheated on you!"
Y/n smiles with tears in her eyes, " But it does Chris...I'm not dumb, I've seen the texts in your phone, I've seen you come home with hickeys...and I won't forget the night you came home and told me you cheated on me, because my body changed after I gave birth to your child!"
Chris's stomach falls to his ass as he watches Y/n begin to pack a bag.
"W-Where are you going?"
And my mama told me, "None of this should come as a surprise"
"It hurts so much! I do my best and it's never enough!" Y/n sobs into her mother's arms. She had packed a bag and left with Kehlani after her and Chris's argument, not wanting to spend another second with him.
"Baby none of this should come as a surprise. I've been told you this when you were younger after your daddy." Y/n looks up at her mother in confusion, her brows furrowed.
"W-what did you tell me?"
" love don't come easy, it don't come easy"
Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy
"Don't give up on it yet baby...I know you want it to be a plain and simple game but you have to work for it, the both of you."
Times get hard, but nothing's easy
Let's go out
Y/n approaches Chris in the kitchen who is currently measuring out weed. She sits across from him and waits for him to acknowledge her. "What do you want?" He sounds irritated, making Y/n nervous. She looks down and fiddles with her fingers.
"I was thinking we could go out...like a date... like we used to."
Let's try it out
Chris stops measuring the weed and looks at her, "it was just a th-ok." He shrugs, leaning back in his chair.
"Really?"
She smiles genuinely, something he hasn't seen her do in a long time. He stands up and walks over to her, rubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, lets try it out." She breaks out into a wide grin and jumps up, planting a fat kiss on his cheek.
You don't hear me out,
Y/n sighs as Chris tells her to be quiet. They were in the car driving home when somehow, an argument started. All she said was that maybe he shouldn't sell as much so they could spend more time with each other.
That's why you always run your mouth,
"You always have shit to say! You never shut the fuck up! It's always complaints and trying to fucking act better than me, and I'm sick of this shit! Just shut your fucking mouth!"
We been talking 'bout our love's runnin' out But you don't hear me out, yeah
"You don't fucking listen to me Chris! that's why I keep saying the same shit!" Y/n yells as they enter the house. She throws her heels in the corner and rushes towards the bedroom, grabbing a bag.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asks, his eyes set on her frantic figure throwing clothes in the bag. She ignores him and goes to Kehlani's room, beginning to pack more clothes.
"I'm leaving you, that's what I'm doing. I'm taking Kehlani and leaving you!" She tries to move past Chris but he stands in her way. "You're not fucking leaving me Y/n, and you're not taking my child!" She ignores him and goes to step to the side but he moves with her. He grabs her making her jerk back, "Don't fucking touch me! Let me go Chri-YOU'RE NOT FUCKING LEAVING ME!" He slams her against the wall.
She winces as her head bounces off the wall, looking at Chris in fright.
That's why you always run your mouth
Chris's grip remains tight on her arms, his breathing heavy. "You're not leaving me, and you're not taking Lani either...J-just stop." His voice breaks as he stares into her eyes.
And all I need's some Lovin',
"You can't leave me, you c-can't take Lani away from me, please." His eyes begin to sting as tears blur his vision. "I'm tired of this Chris" Y/n croaks, her throat closing as she begins to cry as well. He nods, understanding her words. "I know ma, I know and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry-" he wraps his arms around her waist and starts to kiss along her jawline.
some fuckin'
"Let me make it up to you...Let me show you how much I love you."
And the sex is still compatible But I ain't got no manual for trustin'
She knows she shouldn't, she shouldn't crave his touch, she shouldn't crave to be intimate with him. She should put her foot down and stand ten toes on her threat of leaving, but she doesn't.
Chris sees her hesitancy and continues to convince her, promising he will change, promising he will be more loving.
She doesn't know if she believes him, but she gives in anyway.
I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'
Y/n's head is pushed into the pillows as Chris slams into her repeatedly.
"Fuck, I love you so much Ma. Say it, say you love me."
"Fuck! I love you!" She reaches back, holding Chris's hand as his dick slides in and out of her dripping cunt.
You say something isn't right, only fuckin', gettin' high
"This feels weird" Y/n mumbles as she and Chris sit on the couch. They had put Lani to bed around an hour ago, and now they are on the couch watching TV. Chris looks down at the girl snuggled into his side, "What are you talking about Ma?"
She sits up and crosses her legs, playing with the fraying couch, "I mean...It seems like all we do is have sex and get high. We never sit with each other all cuddled up and relaxed, we're always arguing." Chris sighs and pulls the girl onto his lap, "Is that what you want to do? You want to only argue, have sex, and get high with me?" Y/n shakes her head, begging to play with his chain.
"Good, because I don't want to either."
And my daddy told me, "Hold your heart in order to survive"
"You have to do better son. For yourself, and your family." Chris sighs as he listens to his father's words. "I'm trying pops, I really am it's just hard."
"I know it is, but you have to hold your heart in order to survive. What I mean by that is that, your heart is your lifeline, without it you would die. Y/n is your lifeline son. Without her, you would destroy yourself. Hold her close, cherish her, water her like a flower so both you and your family can grow."
'Cause love don't come easy, it don't come easy Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy
Y/n couldn't do it anymore.
She was fed up with the toxic relationship, so she left. She left while Chris was out dealing, throwing bags in her car and fleeing to her mothers house with Lani.
When Chris came home and saw the note on the fridge, he broke down. Vases being broken, and tables being flipped over as well.
He couldn't believe she gave up this easily on them, on what they could be.
Love don't come easy, it don't come easy (No, no) It don't come easy
Chris bangs on the door, waiting for someone to answer. eventually, it does open and he sees the girl who has been avoiding him for a month now.
"Chris?" She questions in confusion. She never told him she was staying at her mother's home, so to see him was a surprise. She crosses her arms and looks down at her shoes, "what do you want?"
"I want you back."
"Chris I do-"
Times get hard, but nothing's easy
tears form in her eyes as she looks at the ring in the box.
"I-I know I haven't been the best to you. I've said some horrible things to and about you, I-I cheated, and all in all, I treated you like shit. I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. I-I want- no- I need you in my life. You're my heart, my lifeline, my everything. I don't know what I would do without you."
"I'll do better I promise! Things won't be easy, but I'm going to try... Just please don't leave me...Don't take my family away from me, don't give up on me."
Tell your man you trust him
Y/n accepted the proposal, allowing Chris to put the ring on her finger. She quickly brings him into a hug, sobbing softly. "I'll do better, I promise. You just have to trust me Ma. I'll give you the whole world if you just trust me."
"I trust you"
Tell your girl you love her
"I love you so much Ma, I love you so much." He whispers as he rubs her back.
Tell your dad you miss him
"Daddy you're back!" Lani shouts as she runs up and hugs his leg. Chris sniffles and picks her up, wrapping one arm around her and the other around Y/n.
"I missed you so much!"
And call your mom and thank her
Y/n walks away from the father and daughter duo, calling her mother to thank her for being a good guide and letting her and Lani stay with her for the month.
Tell your daughter you love her
"I love you so much Lani, with my whole life." Chris expresses as he holds her close, grateful to have the child back in his arms.
Tell yourself you got this
It's unknown to both adults that their minds are reeling as they drive home, both of them giving themselves a mental pep talk.
"You got this, it will be different this time. everything will be better."
'Cause these times get hard, but nothing's easy
They come to a red light and Chris looks over to Y/n who is staring down at her engagement ring.
"I love you," he expresses as he takes hold of her hand.
"I love you too Chris."
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idk how i feel about this so if yall don't like it, ion blame you 😭
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mrvlbimbo · 2 years
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giving eddie visible hickies and stroking his hair and telling him he’s a good boy. and then dustin seeing them at school and losing his shit lol
He’s always gushing to the hellfire club about you and they just Do Not believe him. And he doesn’t want to invade your privacy by telling them a bunch so he just keeps his mouth shut as much as he can.
But it’s hard because he loves you and he wants to talk about you all the time. He’s a pretty secure guy but the constant teasing gets to him sometimes, especially because he already thinks you’re way out of his league.
So he’ll come home all sad one day and you just instantly know something is wrong. His shoulders sag and he flops down onto the couch looking defeated.
He rests his head in your lap and pouts dramatically, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong. You give him a knowing look and pet his hair softly. “What’s got you all mopey?”
“The Freshman are giving me shit about you.”
You just nod and give him a little kiss on the forehead, having heard this whole thing far too many times already. Sometimes you had half the mind to march down to the school and give those kids a peace of your mind for making your poor Eddie so upset.
Then bam, light bulb moment. You push him off your lap and crawl on top of him. “What’s all this about?” He asks, not one to turn down some good old fashioned fooling around.
Your lips ghost his neck as you whisper, “gonna let me mark you up? Show them you’re mine?” He fucking shivers, like out of body experience. He thought he was going to die right there.
He nodded and you murmur “good boy” before getting to work on his neck. And mark him up you did, he was covered in dark purple hickeys the next day.
When he walked into the lunchroom, his whole table gasped. “You get lucky last night, Munson?” Mike commented.
“I get lucky every night because I have a perfect girlfriend who loves me.” They all rolled their eyes, still not believing a word coming out of his mouth. And he returns home that night, his dilemma remaining unsolved.
He assures you he doesn’t need you to come to his meetings (even though you know how important it is to him) bc he doesn’t want to annoy you.
But one day you’re off work and you figure ‘why not give my boyfriend a little visit’ it’s been a while since you’ve been at Hawkins’s but you find the room eventually.
When you walk in one of the older guys makes a joke and asks you what you’re doing there. And Eddie instantly shuts them down like “dude that’s my girlfriend.”
And when you look at all of them just fucking staring in shock, you decide to give them a little show. “Hi baby. Thought I’d pay you and your friends a visit. Is that ok?”
He’s just like grinning so much and you can’t help but smile back at him when he says “yeah of course, cmon have a seat.” And he pats his lap so you just crawl into the chair with him.
You know it’s rude to the other people in the room but you’re running your hands through his hair and kissing his neck the whole time. He’s absolutely blushing furiously because he’s not used to the PDA at all.
When the meeting is over they all apologize for not believing him, which is more like a congratulations to be honest. One of the freshman (probably Dustin bc we all know he has the audacity) would say “holy shit dude she’s smokin hot.”
And he’d just chuckle and agree, probably letting it go to his head a little that you’re really his and everyone knows it.
Whelp that was longer than I expected. My inbox is full of great stuff but I have work today. Keep sending it and I’ll get to it all eventually!!!
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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i don’t know if I’m allowed to ask right now and feel to ignore this but I just really like your shit so here I am :D
anyway
I love the thought of Fanny being the ghost king and the crown not fitting on his head so it falls to his neck line where it hangs off his neck and is either the spikes(idk what the call the pointed bits-) are short enough to see his face or they are thin enough to see though and then when he’s in his human from the crown turns into a black neck tattoo that’s really pretty and stuff!! So imagine this, Danny in Gotham and he’s a singer for Penguin and some rouges or something and he’s irritated so instead of running he continued to sing and it actually sways the course of the fight in favor of his allies while the enemies ears or like bleeding or something as his hair turns white and his eyes go green as the crown shins around his neck and let’s say that his outfit is quite androgynous and nice looking but he’s really pissed because it was a gift and it got damaged or bled on and this starts a rumor that Danny is a meta so the bats and birds go to investigate
Hope you like it and do a little Drabble :)
They hear about the Siren for the first time after a bit of trouble happens to go down in Old Man Rob's. At first, they were a little shocked that anyone would dare give Rob any sort of trouble, seeing as it was a general unwritten role to leave the old man who made clothes for the working girls/boys and for the Gotham Rouges well enough alone.
His work was so well appreciated that the Rouges would even send their minions to outfit them with the standard hire goon outfit. Joker swears by his purple cloth that only Rob could make his men look good.
Old Man Rob made the clothes right out of his home, so anyone who went to him would have a hot cup of tea and soft music from Rob's home country playing in the background. Everyone agreed that Old Man Rob's was welcoming and neutral grounds.
So imagine the uproar when some stupid out-of-city punks attempted to follow some working girls into the house and trash the place. The girls had taken refuge with Old Man Rob after realizing the punks were much more dangerous than they first thought.
When Rob tried to defuse the situation, things turned ugly as one of the men punched the old man to the ground- injuring his back. They had then attempted to take the screaming girls, gone about the house for anything valuable, and smashed everything that wasn't with a bat.
That's when Siren walked in. The androgynous being looked around before throwing themselves onto the men like the snaring mystical creature they earned their name from.
Siren had taken care of the men and had even had them hand-delivered to Penjuin when the supervillain caught wind that the fools were responsible for Rob not being able to complete his latest suit due to his back injury.
One of the working girls had texted her boyfriend, who was employed with Penguin, and that meant the Rouge, with a group of men, had rushed over to help not even ten minutes later.
Once everything was settled, Rob had enough time, as he was being transported to the hospital, to give Siren their outfit as a gift, and Penguin overheard the old man wishing Siren luck on his audition.
After a bit of question, Penguin gave Siren his card and told them to swing by the Iceberg Lounge for an audition if the one they were going to didn't work out.
That was all the Bats were able to gather from the last working girl, who is Jason's informate. Since Siren had no other known sighting, the Bats let them fade into obscurity until rumors of a hot new singer began to feature at the Iceberg Lounge.
Their voice left hundreds of clubgoers memorized, even those who didn't often prefer slow seduction songs when going to the club. The Iceberg does have a more classy feel about it but Siren could make anyone stop for their voice.
Bruce thought it was wise to investigate the meta after rumors that Siren would often help security when someone got too rowdy by singing a tone that could make human ears bleed. So far, there wasn't much information past rumors, and Penguin hadn't made the singer a member of his crime yet, but it was only a matter of time.
No one that powerful could remain neutral with the company they kept.
That's why Dick, Cas, and Jason all dressed to the nines and visited Iceberg Lounge with Brucie Wayne's unlimited credit card. They are treated VIPs- as the Lounge is a legitimate business despite everyone knowing the owner is Penguin- and are seated right before Siren's stage.
The lights drop, and the music tickles to a stop so the live band can get into place. Dick adjusts his cuffs, presses the record button on the hidden video camera on the metal, and leans on his hands to point it to the stage.
They are all wearing earplugs, hoping to stop Siren's powers, but it's better to have someone far away who won't be effect by the sound watching just in case the three get mind-controlled.
The singer who takes the stage is beautiful androgynous in everything from their outfit to their features, but none can deny their beauty of them. They stand in a shimmering black suit resembling a modern king attire, with a half veil dripping from their shoulders. A particular ice crystal snowflake design tattoo circles their neck in a breath-catching upturn of their head.
Once Sirens opens their mouth in the first verse, Cass can understand why the mythical creatures could lure sailors to their water deaths. The voice is as beautiful as the singer, and she can't look away.
She rises with the tempo, falls with the beat, and flouts into the rhythm of Siren's voice. It's not until the singer descends the stage to sing to the lucky few upfront does she realizes she has forgotten why she came here tonight.
Jason carefully presses his foot against her, and she struggles to take her eyes off Siren to look at her bother. His face is relaxed and cocky, like the wealthiest man son can be, but his body language screams worry.
Worry for her.
Shoot, had she allowed herself to fall under Siren's spell?
The singer struts back to the stage, arms raised before slowly lowering on the last long memorizing note, and the lights drop. She clasps politely along with the rest, her heart fluttering.
"That was amazing!" Dick cheers, whistling like a loon. His civilian persona does resemble Brucie the most. "Encore! Encore!"
Siren looks at their table with a bashful smile, and Cass's heart falls. Before she can do anything knowing what that means, the doors to the lounge get blown right off the hinges, and screams erupt through the room.
A rival gang is tearing through the room. Cass hits the ground with her brothers, mentally cursing they can't blow their cover as the thugs quickly round up hostages. One grabs Siren's veil, ripping it right off as the singer tries to run. The action causes them to trip over the stage's long walkway before falling into a table stacked with wine glasses.
She fights to urge to scream when Siren falls. Cass needs to focus on finding a place to change and get control of the situation. Siren could be hurt, they could be-
"You asshole!" The siren screams, standing up and neck tattoo flaring a bright blue. "You ruined my suit!"
The man scoffs, pointing a gun at their head "So what? It couldn't be that expensive for Penguin's little plaything to offered."
"It was a gift!" The siren screams in a sound voice as cold as ice and as unforgiving as death. Cass feels the air freeze over, and suddenly, Siren is signing. But it's not the sweet song from before; now, it's a dead melody that promises death.
She presses herself against the floor more, trying to escape the sound. Her heart is beating so fast that she wonders if she is dosed with Fear Toxin. Cass doubts the others are fairing better as sobs break through the room.
The man holding the gun drops to his knees, screaming and clutching his ears.
Siren remains standing, hair bleeding into white, eyes a blazing green, and his neck tattoo expanding into a crown that seems to cover the lower half of their face. It's a beautiful sight as much as it is terrifying.
Cass can't look away.
Just as quickly as it started, the signing ends when the man falls unconscious and Siren looks human again. They fret over their suit uncaring of the stares from the rest of the club, and make their way to the changing room without a by-your-leave.
Cass is in love.
"We have to report this to B," Jason hisses. "That was Lazaurs Wails."
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