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#reader has power
fauxraven · 1 year
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Can I request that me and Morpheus are husband and wife and I have telekinesis and I protect him from all the people who are after him but i over use them and I pass out but release a energy blast but he catches me in his arms and places me in his bed until I wake up and I finally reveal who I am and he is very sweet about it
Brave New Dream
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pairing: Dream of the Endless x Powerful fem!reader
summary: a thousand lifetimes of protecting the man you love and a billion reasons to love you more.
warnings: slight spoilers for the comics.
word count: 3k+
dedicated to this lovely Anon who, I hope will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Not sure this is what you had in mind but I took a bit of a creative license ;)
Enter the Dream, weary traveller
The universe began in death.
The world as humans know it was created billions and billions and trillions of years ago.
And for the longest time, there was nothing there.
Not even darkness.
Nothing but a pile of rocks that I'd crafted from my tears, long before I even knew about tears; long before I even knew about sadness.
Long before I knew about anything at all.
Unfortunately, the concept of sadness is one I’ve become familiar with. It's a concept I completely owe to myself, lest there be a Depression of the Endless I would be unaware of.
Naturally, sadness has never only really been just sadness.
And love has never really been just love.
Sadness and love; the only things I've ever taken for granted. I drag them behind me, like one of my husband's long billowing coats, on my road to eternity.
And eternity, is unbearable.
Eternity is impervious to evolution.
Eternity is impervious to the big D.
Eternity has never been anything else but existence, uninterrupted.
Nothing but me, sitting cross-legged on a giant rock floating in endless nothingness, watching stars bursting into life.
Billions and billions of lives.
Billions and billions of deaths.
Aeons fly by.
Atoms arrange, break down, rearrange, reshape, remodel in an infinite scheme for life.
And of this new process, burst life, everlasting.
The Creator came first.
He shaped worlds and realities of incomparable beauty, worlds that I could admire from my rock in a secluded part of this new universe. For him, I was grateful.
The Designer came second.
She'd always been here, in a way, just like me, but the Elden Books only gave her life meaning when her disembodied eyes had found those of her equal. For her, I was devastated.
Mother Night and Father Time were a logic addition to this bubbling garden of life, looking back.
Night and Time.
The essence of youth, ebbing away, crumbling to dust with each passing day; the everlasting presence of darkness itself, allowing thought to mankind, spawning fear and wonder in equal parts.
Night and Time. They never even knew I was there.
Night and Time and their children.
Seven Endless, seven beings, just as lost as I. Seven creatures of obedience and rules and death and destiny and dream and destruction and despair and desire and delight and—
Love.
So much love.
At first sight really; at first heartbeat.
But they were meant for inspiration, these beings, nothing else. Never anything else.
Whereas I was meant to watch.
From the darkest yet untrodden corner of a burgeoning universe, in a form that was not my own and thoughts that never sparred with anyone nor anything else. For them, I became everything that I am today.
But the beginning is important to this story; perhaps twice as important as the end. As it was from this very rock of oblivion, that I witnessed the purest thing yet.
The universe began with a dream.
A tiny dream, the first dream ever dreamt.
A fickle thing born of love.
A firstborn daughter, dreaming of her father, long since dead in battle. Fuzzy around the edges, the dream had no tangible contender, nor substance.
The father had no face to look at, no eyes to stare into nor voice to listen to; he was only as strong as all the men in her village, but the babe had no use for a face, only for a feeling.
She saw herself as older, fuller, running into his arms and laughing—laughing is not quite the opposite of crying, you see, but it is a merciful lie, one we tell ourselves to preserve our hearts, if only for a moment.
And the newly-born Dream Lord, barely more than a babe himself, was the sole puppeteer of this blooming hope.
And he was beautiful.
I loved him instantly for it.
I loved him for hope, I loved him for dreams, I loved him for love, even. I loved him for everything he could do and everything he could be. I loved him because when I thought of him I didn't feel quite as alone anymore.
I loved him because he gave me the courage to leave my rock and set sail for the stars. He'd never admit it, but Earth had always been his favourite of all worlds. And so it became mine.
Every waking moment, I sought to protect him. To love him from afar, rather than to not love him at all.
These days, it proved harder a task than usual.
The turn of the Twentieth century had offered me many things.
Semi-security, as a traveller, a woman, an impossible being. I'd been burnt as a witch, drowned as a witch, scalped as a witch, wheeled as a fae and hanged as a thief. I did not enact revenge. All of these were true, to some extent.
I'd established various homes across the aeons, found others like me, befriended some, hated nearly all of them. Always loved him.
Human beings are selfish by nature, but they have a knack to come about it that is just so ethereally beautiful and insightful and... magnificent. Just so uniquely human.
My love was just as self-absorbed. My friends themselves had some choice words about my aeon-long pining.
But of those friends, I particularly resented one.
Madame Klare was nothing particularly graceful nor spiteful. Only horrifyingly, tediously decent.
She knew of my shameful feelings, naturally. I reckon her exact words were A worthless waste of cosmic time, or some such lines.
The jab wasn't strictly intended to my feelings but rather to the unconventional way I chose to deal with them.
You see, I wholeheartedly believe that ire and hate are driving emotions, but there comes a time when the well of hate has run dry, when ire is no longer burning away in a pit but dying out in a shallow pool.
But love... love is infinite.
And when you love something as much as I love Morpheus, you protect it. It's the most... natural thing in the worlds—all and every of them worlds.
And time and time again, I protected him.
It began like a drawl; a slow, steady choreography that I practised alone from behind a one-way mirror—the Selena Gomez to his Drew Seeley.
He was a dark dot on a map, followed by a burst of light—life and love, everlasting.
My entire lives, I kept running after him.
After billions and billions of years, I was awarded a holiday by my dear friend.
A centennial thing—every three hundred years, she would kick my ass to the curb. I would leave for a century; go off-world, love myself, love the stars, come back and resume my duties to my one true love.
It was also during this century of lenience that my love was stolen from me.
I encountered him again some time later in a park in England, feeding the pigeons, of all things. I found him changed, in an odd, less tormented way.
The sun was showing her glowing head, burning brightly on an amateur soccer game. A fevered child ran past Dream of the Endless—he glanced at it with disdain and I stifled a laugh.
Needless to say, in this picturesque landscape, the broody dream Lord stood out like a sore thumb.
Something in him called out to something buried in me. For the first time, I decided to break my own rules.
He didn’t notice when I sat beside him.
‘’I love pigeons. They only ever need you for food but at least they’re very straightforward little bastards about it.’’
He gave me a sideway glance—sapphire blue and decaying hopes—and flicked another crumb to the surrounding flock.
There have been many an occasion, many a cause for his sadness over the years.
Sadness swallowed him whole every time.
Which is why I’d promised myself that I would never be the source of it.
Sadness was a default setting for both of us, but his was an infinite whirlpool, a tiny part of an endless ocean, extinguishing all hope of light it came across. And for a very long time, I thought this was all there was. But his sadness was so much deeper, so much stranger and so much more beautiful than that. Than mine. He was it. He was my everything.
My hand found his knee; only for a second, only for a tiny speck of comfort magic to weave through the dark jeans, through muscle, make-believe tissue and bone and there—the heart of an endless.
He looked at me then. At the smile I unknowingly offered him and the warm touch of my hand on his knee. And panic set in. Like every time for the past ten billion years, I scrammed.
⚭ ⚭ ⚭
The universe was playing a cruel joke on me.
The cruelest yet.
I simply kept seeing him everywhere, without even looking.
I wasn’t being strictly honest with myself either.
I knew about Hob and the New Inn; I had known about everything for a very long time.
I just didn’t expect he would see me right away.
I didn’t expect Hob to point a finger to the standoffish girl who’d been stalking his old friend for hours. I didn’t expect the man himself to look over. I didn’t expect my legs to be such traitors in the nick of time.
‘’Hi,’’ Keep it cool. Keep it together. Oh, god. He’s looking at me. He’s really looking at me and seeing me and I’m standing there, not doing anything. ‘’Can I… buy you a drink?’’
I’d done many stupid things over time. Hurt a lot, broke my own heart, shadowed him dutifully.
Loved him with everything that I had.
Of that, I said nothing.
I spoke of awkward things, shallow things, lively things, shiny things and funny things.
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t say much at all. He just kept staring and listening and I was entirely convinced that by the end of the evening I would scramble off back to my rock.
But I did not.
And he asked to see me again.
From there, something blossomed. Something beautiful and unlikely and ultimately based on lies.
But life went on.
And we… we fell into this lie so easily—he, digging deeper into the clumsy courtship and I, burying myself in a grave made of my own rules. It looked an awful lot like the underside of a cosmic rock.
He believed me human; of all things.
He saw my messy flat, and my boho friends and he showed me his realm and his love and it all absolutely terrified me.
I began by lying to my boyfriend.
Before long, I kept lying to my husband.
In all fairness, I’d denied him, the first time.
And despite his sadness and anguish, and my own self-loathing, I kept denying him until I just couldn’t anymore.
The wedding itself was all very briskly. Unexpected.
Right after I’d said no for the fifth time and just before I’d said yes for the first.
Something blue, something stolen, an immortal best man and his sister Death, officiating a small barely-put-together ceremony in the middle of an English park. It was perfect. It was everything.
I tried to convince myself that I was happy. I tried to live in a lie. I chose to kiss my husband every day, to chase his touch, to listen to the voice in me that needed him nearly as much as he needed me.
But every story, if you keep it going long enough, ends in death.
Death, is no beautiful lady on a languid trek through Brighton.
Death, is a burst of light, with a twist.
It’s a blonde woman who’s just lost a son and will take it out on anyone.
On the love of all my lives.
My physical form is used to these instincts by now. I should know better. I really, really should know better.
My mind follows, leaping from the confines of a rock at the borders of a forgotten universe.
I stand between a broken woman and a tattered dream—and I burst. I let it engulf all parts of me in every world that I’ve ever known. My power reacts on its own, fuelled by instincts and a dreary endless life without him.
This life remembers aeons of solitude.
It remembers bright skies and a dream of love. It remembers an otherworldly burst of light and a bewildered dream and a fuzzy mother.
This death remembers an endless embrace of sinew and a bed of starlight and wobbling bookshelves coming into focus.
‘’Boss? I think she’s coming to.’’
‘’My dream? Can you hear me?’’
A fuzzy dream of love and a talking raven.
A throbbing head and a loving hand in the small of my back, helping me up.
‘’What’s happening?’’ No. Wrong question entirely. ‘’What happened?’’
‘’It seems you’ve used up your… energy. Trying to help me.’’
‘’He means that you totally kicked ass today.’’
The raven isn’t an unusual sight. The bite in my husband’s eyes however…
It’s not that I haven’t seen this gaze before; this cool, unperturbed, assessing gaze. It’s just that I have never seen it in relation to me. This is death, for the first time in fifty billion years.
‘’Leave us.’’
The master’s orders are seldom discussed, and I am eternally grateful to Matthew for his slight twitch and dubious glance but I reassure him with a small smile. The bird flies away through a window; a window I recognise. Dream’s window. Our window in our little cosmic alcove, here, in his kingdom.
‘’It’s nice to see you still consider me enough to spare a pillow for my head,’’ I observe, stretching on the silk sheets and throwing him a coy smile. ‘’But whatever should we do with this insanely large bed?’’
‘’You lied to me.’’
The bite is cutting, gritted through a carefully crafted mask of indifference. It hurts more than the fleeting ghost touch of brushing against him in a busy street. More than shoving sixteenth century robbers with a wandering eye for rubies against a wall of a tavern with the force of my mind. Far more than nudging an engagement ring towards the man I’ve always loved, painfully aware that he would be gifting it to another woman.
‘’I’m not human, Morpheus.’’
The words are painful; they clog in my throat, and I wish to take them back immediately. A teardrop glistens in his endless eyes. I want to reach up and collect it before it falls.
‘’What, then?’’
‘’I don’t know. Not exactly. I never have. I just know that I’m old. Older than you.’’
He chuckles bitterly. ‘’That is impossible.’’
‘’Nothing is impossible. You taught me that.’’
‘’It’s all been a lie, has it not?’’
‘’Yes.’’ I’m desperate. Pathetic. His. ‘’You have to understand, I just wanted to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, baby.’’
‘’You lie.’’
‘’I live for you.’’ I put his hand over the last beating organ I have left and kiss his tears away. ‘’I burn for you. I die for you.’’
‘’You’ve killed for me, my love. And you almost did die as well.’’
‘’I’ll do it again. Tomorrow if you’re free. I might have to sneak out, though. My husband gets awfully jealous; in this very hot very red-flaggy way.’’
He gives a snort—even that is dignified—and takes my face into his hands. ‘’You’ve overwhelmed yourself.’’
‘’Happens once every millennia. Only with you though. Always with you.’’
And then I read it. The confusion in his face. Dream’s always been an open book to me; an open books of books, Destiny’s own damned tome of forged tales. Dream is my fate, I know that now.
‘’When? When did you start…’’
Complete and unabridged truth. In sickness and in health. For now and until forever ends.
‘’Do you remember Alianora?’’
He remembers. He remembers everything.
‘’She needed a bit of a nudge to cross over. Took care of those lousy gods though, did she not?’’
I did it. It’s done. Out in the multiverse.
I’ve just admitted to indirectly saving his life and his realm. I’ve just admitted to unknowingly third wheeling in one of his earliest relationships. I’ve just admitted to loving him, for eons past.
‘’That was you? You helped her then?’’
‘’And a few more times across time. Once or twice or a billion. You, mister, are a magnet for trouble.’’
‘’You should have shown yourself.’’
‘’I had no wish to trample on your happiness. I wanted you happy, even if it wasn’t with me. That’s what love is, isn’t it?’’
‘’I love you.’’ He says after a drop. His admission has my own eyes watering. ‘’I think I loved you even when I didn’t know you.’’
‘’I don’t,’’ I sob into his jaw. ‘’I hate myself. I hate myself for not being there, for not being by your side when you were imprisoned.’’
‘’Do not fret. I was released and then—I met you.’’
He’s lost his eloquence somewhere in this mess of tears and snot that we share, and the kisses I keep peppering along his jaw and the thousand truths I haven’t told him yet. But I purposely pause to tell him this one.
‘’That wasn’t easy, you know.’’
He pauses as well to look me in the eyes properly.
‘’A real hurdle. There were guards everywhere and I can’t reach that far on my own. I just had to make it look like an accident—a misplaced swipe of a tired wheel. But it worked. It set you free, and I am so glad that it did, because then I wouldn’t have had these glorious years with you. I peaked, I really did.’’
He stands frozen for a moment.
My dream king, prince of stories who’s just been told an entirely new one that he doesn��t understand.
I stare deeply into those starlight eyes only to find that I can read him no longer. It frightens me beyond compare.
‘’Please, say something.’’
He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring as he brushes my temple with a soft thumb. The moment drags on with the sweetest touch before I catch his fallen tear with my trembling lips. Against those, he whispers shakily.
‘’Can I… buy you a drink, Dream Queen?’’
A/N: Some soft, out-of-character Dream, but who’s complaining?
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kakushino · 6 months
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The Queen
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Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader
He never orders you around - rather, he requests.
Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k
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AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)
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There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 
Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?
Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 
Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.
“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 
You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 
And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.
“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 
The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?
“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.
You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.
The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.
This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.
“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 
“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.
“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.
Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 
You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.
“Very well.”
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Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.
His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -
With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.
All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.
Only if you let him know, that is.
You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.
So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 
You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 
Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 
You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.
That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 
At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.
“Everyone, out.”
He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.
And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.
The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 
“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.
Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”
Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.
“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 
“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 
You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.
Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.
“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”
“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”
Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.
“Has a cat got your tongue?” 
Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 
You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.
“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.
Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”
His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.
The devil didn’t bargain, after all.
“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”
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dividers by the divine @benkeibear
network: @enchantedforest-network
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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fqntasies · 1 month
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Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader
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summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.
words: 1,258
disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.
You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.
"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.
The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.
---- flashback ----------
The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.
But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.
"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.
You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.
At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.
When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.
But then-
Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.
She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.
She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.
Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...
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You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.
He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.
"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.
His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.
The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.
Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.
"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.
Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.
He wets his lips, gaze feverish.
"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.
You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.
There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.
You know he has to leave.
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andthebeanstalk · 10 months
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Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!
Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*
Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!
#original#the last unicorn#tlu#peter s beagle#molly gru#schmendrick#schmendrick the magician#two of my favorite characters in anything right there in the center of the story! and I'm glad I saw the film first!#my reading ability has diminished due to trauma disability etc. but it seems like having a visual reference actually really helped!#no wonder i only ever want to read fan fic! turns out reading is not actually Superior to other types of Storytelling. it's just different.#to say otherwise is snobbishness I have been eminently guilty of in my life!#but like it is easier for me to consume tv and movies and that is fine actually. also that's why I'm doing a graphic novel lol#because i wanted to make something i would actually be able to read if i found it at a library. altho the audio book IS gonna be bomb#the audiobook is for visually impaired readers and anyone who wants or needs it! accessible stories for everyone! yeah!!#my gender was already transed but now I've gained an ADDITIONAL gender! which one? I'll never tell 😘#i am so powerful i have so much fuckin gender. my wife has no gender. and she is equally as powerful.#and also she has STUDIED THE BLADE#mostly zoro's blades from One Piece#normally YouTube recommends me shit movies like idiocracy or smth this is like if every day ur cat brought you a piece of rotten food and#then one day it brings you a BEAUTIFULLY ANIMATED TALE FEATURING MY BELOVED TWINK FUCK-UP WIZARD FRIEND AND MY ALL-TIME HOMEGIRL MOLLY GRU#and also it's soft and beautiful and funny and fucking weird!! i wrote melodies to the songs in the books on my ukulele
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slasherscream · 25 days
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She Likes a Boy (And I’m Not Just a Boy)
pairing:  jordan li x fem!reader
summary: You and Jordan are friends with benefits, and Jordan is trying so hard to be okay with that. Somehow, they still fell in love with you despite their best efforts to not fucking do that. But you've only ever fucked them when they're a guy, so they assume you're only interested in them one way. Just like everyone else. You've never said anything to make them think any different so it's obvious, right? So they take what they can get. Which is only half. And they keep you at a distance, because anything else will kill them.
A/N: flashbacks are in all Italics. some smut.
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gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez
“Oh shit, Jordie, wait-” You can’t catch your breath, legs shaking where they’re thrown over Jordan’s shoulders. 
“Stop fucking squirming.” Jordan huffs, licking some of your wetness off your thigh.
Your vision is swimming a little. How long have you been in this position? Or in Jordan’s room? It’s hard to keep track of anything, when you’re with them. His tongue finds your clit again. Insistent, rough swipes. You’re too overworked now for anything gentle to even register. How many times have you cum now? 
“You always taste so fucking good.” Jordan moans, voice hoarse and low.
He puts a hand under your back to press you further into his mouth. With only your shoulders pushed into the mattress you can’t move. Jordan’s eyes are always glued to your face when you fuck. As if he’s daring you to shy away from whatever he’ll do to you next. 
Considering that his favorite thing to do is overstimulate you, you’re not sure the irritation is fair. What are you supposed to do when he’s made you cum four times and is still going? According to Jordan, the answer is simple: lie there and take it. 
Lifting you up. Pinning you down. These are the solutions he’s arrived at. Jordan hates having to chase you just to give you the orgasm you begged him for in the first place. 
“You ready for my fingers again?” Jordan asks, but it’s not a real question, because you don’t get to so much as gasp before he’s plunging three fingers into you again. 
He’s rough as he rocks his fingers into that soft spot inside of you that always makes your eyes roll back into your head. He knows the angle you like him to use by heart. 
“Fucking shit, Jordan!” Your hands fall into his hair, grip like a vice, and Jordan half moans and half laughs against you.
It’s the vibrations that send you over the edge again. The breath leaving your lungs in one rush as that coil inside releases and makes the world go white and your ears ring. 
You come back to yourself slowly. Jordan hovering over you, pressing kisses into the side of your neck. You grasp at his shoulders, pulling him down so that he's laying on top of you. The weight is comforting after the overwhelming head rush. You still feel shaky. He goes down easily, wrapping one arm underneath you.
“I can feel you smirking, jerk.” You laugh weakly, hitting his arm.
“You soaked my fucking fingers. Think I'm allowed a smirk.” Jordan says. 
He lifts his head from your neck and there's that smug look you love to see him wear. It's enough to make you ready to have him all over again. You settle on gently massaging his scalp. 
“I'll tell you what you're allowed.” You tease, grinning at him. 
“Hah! Always have enough energy to be a fucking brat, huh?” Jordan rolls his eyes. 
You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. “I've got enough energy to make out too! Gimme a kiss.”
“Fucking insatiable.” Jordan scoffs, but gives in. Because he always does. 
It's hard to think when Jordan kisses you. He kisses like he doesn't need to breathe. Or be anywhere else but with you. One of his hands finds yours, locking your fingers together. You squeeze tight. Try not to imagine holding his hand like this outside each other's dorms. Because that only ever makes you feel empty afterwards when all the hormones from the orgasms should leave you floating.
You get a third wind when Jordan rocks his hips against yours and you feel he's hard again. You reach a hand between the two of you, grasping his dick to angle him back inside. Thank God for Supe refractory periods. You sigh when his tip pushes into you. 
“Yeah princess? You want me again?” He tries to sound teasing, nonchalant, but he only sounds like he wants you just as bad.
You rock your hips so that he slides inside fully. Watch him tilt his head back and moan for you as you move. Hungrily taking in the way every sound shapes his mouth. You lean up to kiss at the underside of his jaw. You can't leave any hickies on him but you always kiss him like you want to. God you fucking wish you could. Maybe if you could leave marks people wouldn't chase after them so much. If everyone knew Jordan was yours. But Jordan isn't yours. 
You bite him a little harder.
Jordan's hand finds your throat. You whine, the noise strangled against his palm. You go lax as he pushes you back into the bed. Gently. His fingers flex, a little tighter, and your eyes flutter shut. 
“Gonna be good for me?” Jordan asks.
You nod your head frantically, legs dragging him closer. It's never close enough. No matter what you do. 
“Yeah, I'll be good, Jordie.” You say the words he wants to hear, feeling your head go soft and thoughtless again.
“Fucking liar.” He grinds his hips into yours and chokes you harder when you clench around him. 
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You’d been fast friends, best friends, since the moment you stepped on campus and met one another as freshman. Talking to Jordan. Spending time with them. Everything that first year didn’t even feel like getting to know one another. It just felt like coming home.
You didn’t say as much to Jordan. They would have rolled their eyes and scoffed at how sensitive you were, if you had. But you knew they felt the same way. You were the one Jordan went to whenever they were sad. When they were excited. When they were coming into themselves, learning to love who they were after a lifetime of everyone else telling them not to. 
You were the first person to see them. Before Brink, even, you saw them. All their potential. All their greatness. All of them, and Jordan had never forgotten that. 
Jordan saw you too, in turn. You’d never felt like much more than a pretty face, before Jordan. 
You were the type of beautiful that made people look twice when they walked past you. When you were a little girl you soaked in all the praise like a flower. Every: ‘she’s so pretty’, and ‘well look at her!’, or ‘oh wow!’ was nourishment to your little soul.
It would be impossible to pinpoint the moment you realized that was all anyone saw. Even once your powers manifested. Advanced healing, advanced reflexes, limited invulnerability, energy manipulation. You were the whole nine yards. Your parents, when you were thirteen, had sent a video of you using your powers off to Vought. 
A man and woman showed up a day later in suits, wanting to meet you personally.
“She sure is a little looker, isn’t she?” The man had said, and he’d held your hand for too long before he let go. 
They’d come prepared. With ideas for costumes. Which team of teenage Supes you should be placed with. If you should just go straight for television. The adults talked around you. Not paying you any mind as you stared at the costume that would reveal so much skin. You’d never worn a skirt that short before. You hadn’t been allowed, hadn’t even wanted to, really. If you’d come home from the mall having bought anything like that on your own, your parents would have blown a fuse. Now they just sat on either side of you, mile wide grins plastered on their faces. 
All the voices faded to background noise. You realized maybe you were too young to be a superhero. You thought it would involve more... saving people. Running into burning buildings. Getting the bad guys. Saving the day. The people from Vought were only talking about magazine spreads. About what persona would fit your look. 
“What about school?” You’d asked, quietly, and everyone in the room had turned to look at you baffled. 
“What about school, sweetheart?” The woman laughed. “You’ll get a private tutor, of course. But your future is big. You won’t even have to worry about stuff like that anymore. Goodbye lame homework. Hello red carpets!” 
You sat very quietly until they left. Your parents were more angry than you’d ever seen them, when you told them you wanted to wait until after high-school to pursue being a hero. 
You knew telling them you weren’t sure you wanted to do it at all was off the table. 
During high-school you noticed people didn’t listen to you. You would be telling someone about your favorite book; or talking about a movie that changed your whole worldview, only to realize the other person had been staring at your lips the entire time. 
You stopped talking so much about things you cared about. No one listened anyways. 
‘Bimbo.’
‘Airhead.’
‘Slut.’ 
Were all things you’d heard before you’d ever gone on your first date. Gotten so much as your first kiss on the cheek. High-school was lonely, and you couldn’t talk about it being lonely without sounding like an asshole, you quickly realized. The few friends you had would roll their eyes when you’d try and vent. You thought it was just playful ribbing. Friends tease each other. It made you feel included! Until you caught them mocking you behind your back to one another.
‘Look at me, I’m Y/N, and life’s so hard because I’m so pretty and popular. Is she fucking serious? Stuck up bitch.’ 
You stopped venting.
When you got to God-U, you weren’t sure what to expect. College was a chance to reinvent yourself. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to be a Superhero you knew this could be a chance to find your people. Lifelong friends. 
People who you could get coffees with between classes. Who would go to all your birthdays and want to be there. People you would spend hours on the phone with. Fall asleep studying together. Girls who might like you enough to make you their maid of honor. Guys who would high five you when you did something cool and not try to sneak a glance at your chest. 
You were imagining it all as you unpacked your boxes. Your stomach twisting itself into knots. Living in a half world between excitement and dread.
Then you met your roommate and she gave you the look. The look you’d gotten all your life from girls, and you knew you’d never be real friends. Girls who looked at you like that kept their boyfriends away from you at parties. And they never shared the secrets that friends share because they thought you’d put them in a fucking burn book. The look alone almost made you give up and just go home. 
You went for a walk instead, fighting back tears. That’s when you ran into Jordan. Literally, ran into Jordan. You knocked the both of you to the ground. 
When they’d snapped, “What the fuck dude?” at you, harsh and angry and very them, you’d burst into tears. 
It wasn’t the perfect way to meet your person. But you were glad you met them at all. 
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 “Stop moving your eyes away from the screen.” Jordan says. 
“I’m not allowed to move my eyes away from the screen?” You laugh.
“No, this part is really important. You have to pay attention. I wanna see if you catch it.” 
You try your best to keep your eyes glued to the screen, as instructed. But you can’t help the way you keep glancing towards Jordan. She looks good. She always looks good, but right now you don’t even want to look away from her. The colors of the movie flashing across her face, blues and golds, make her look like a painting. 
“Are you watching?” Jordan asks, and you smile at the excitement in her voice. 
You look back towards the movie, wondering what she wants you to see so badly. You look just in time. A small detail catches your eyes and you gasp, reaching out a hand blindly to shake her in your own excitement. 
“Did you see that in the background?” You shake her again, for good measure.
“I saw it.” Jordan laughs.
“That means that he killed the wife!” 
“How do you figure?”
You pause the movie, ready to explain where you think the plot is heading. When you turn to face Jordan you have to take a deep breath. You don’t know whether you love or hate that look. Your feelings on the matter change day to day. 
Jordan is leaned up into the arm of the couch, relaxed, and she’s staring at you with The Smile she wears sometimes. She started doing it a few months into your friendship. Back when you used to talk and then slowly stop. So completely sure that nobody wanted to hear what you had to say. 
Jordan had asked you, back then, why you always stopped telling stories halfway through, or stopped talking about your day, or the latest book you’d read. 
You wanted to lie, at first. Eventually you told a half truth, “I never have anything interesting to say.” 
Jordan had looked at you for a long time. You were worried that somehow, up until that moment, they hadn’t realized how boring you were. But you acknowledging it out loud had made them think about it, and now they were going to ditch you for a friend who was interesting, funny, and smart. 
Instead, Jordan had told you that she loved the way your mind worked, and she’d smiled The Smile at you, for the first time. You hadn’t known how to respond, to the words, or the smile. You turned the conversation back towards Brink’s latest class assignment. 
Later that night you’d gone back to your dorm room and cried, but you’d felt happier than you’d ever felt. 
It made you feel warm and soft that three years later Jordan still smiled at you like that. It felt like your cue to say anything on your mind, no matter how dumb. Green light means go. The Smile means talk. 
“Well?” Jordan nudges you with her foot, still smiling, and waiting for you. 
You shake your head to break free of the spell she puts you in, “Well, look at his sense of style for the entire movie. All his stuff is modern and sleek and then the first time we see his bedroom all the rest of the decor is in line with the rest of the house, except that one thing. All the camera shots are so purposeful and they lingered a little, after he walked away. They wanted us to see he was keeping a trophy. He totally killed her, didn’t he?” 
Jordan pauses for a second and then laughs. “I don’t know how you always guess right. I didn’t see the twist coming at all the first time I watched it.”
“Secondary super power.”
“Connecting all the dots?”
“Connecting all the dots, yeah.” 
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“Y/N! Y/N, thank fucking god, you gotta come with me.” Cate grabbed you by the arm, rougher than she’d ever touched you before. 
“I was on my way to class.” You tripped over your feet as Cate pulled you the opposite way you needed to go.
“Forget class! Jordan’s gonna get themself expelled.” Cate snapped. 
“What?!” 
“They’re beating the shit out of Peter in the locker room. Luke’s not on campus. I can’t get close enough to stop them-”
You’d broken into a sprint towards the fighting arena. You didn’t know what the hell was happening. Peter and Jordan had spoken maybe ten times to each other in all the years of attending the same university. 
You’d never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Andre was standing steadfast in front of the entrance to the boy’s locker room, a small group of other students standing outside. You could hear the sounds of fighting pouring out from the door. 
“Back it up you fucking vultures.” Andre snipped. He might not have super strength but he was still Number 4, and could look intimidating when he needed to. 
“Andre, what’s going on?” You pushed to the front of the crowd. 
“Thank fuck Cate found you. You gotta get in there. Jordan’s gonna fucking mur-” Andre glanced at the phones pointed at the both of you, trying to record even a drip of gossip about top students trying to seriously hurt each other and lowered his voice, “Jordan is actually gonna fucking kill Peter. I’ll keep the crowds back. Get in there.” 
You moved past him into the locker room and your jaw dropped at the state of the place. 
You thought these lockers were bolted down. Apparently not. At least four rows of them were knocked to the ground, heavily dented. A water bottle refilling station had been crumpled to nothing, exposed pipe spraying water across the floor.
“Get off of me you fucking animal.” You heard Peter cry from further in the room and ran. 
Jordan had shoved Peter up against the wall. You were surprised Peter was still conscious. He was lucky he healed so fast. You could see his black eye fading even as Jordan broke his nose. 
“You fucking stay away from her. You understand? I hear you fucking talking like that again and I take the tongue out of your fucking mouth, you asshole.” 
Peter laughs through a mouth full of blood,“Not my fault she gave it up so easy, Li-” 
Jordan throws him into one of the last standing lockers and you see that they are indeed bolted into the ground. Evidently, Jordan throws stronger than Supe resistant steel can take. When Jordan moves to lift Peter out of the crater his body made in the downed locker you rush in between them, putting a shield up. 
“Y/N?” You can see some of the anger fade from Jordan’s face, just a little, at the sight of you.
“Hey, Jordie. Think Peter has had enough.”
Jordan scoffs, “No, he really fucking hasn’t,” he leans around you to yell at Peter, who’s trying to push himself onto his knees, “He’s still running his fucking mouth!” 
“Pussy whipped asshole-” Peter groans.
You glance at Peter on the floor, aghast, “Peter! Stop antagonizing, Jordan. What’s wrong with you?” 
“Unbelievable, honestly. You walk in on Jordan kicking my ass and you tell me to stop antagonizing the fucker?” Peter huffs, pushing his nose back into place so it won’t heal wrong. 
“Name calling isn’t gonna make him stop kicking your ass. I’m trying to help.” You shoot back.
“Well, no one needs your help, you dumb-” 
“Hey.” Jordan interrupts. He’s not yelling anymore, but his voice is the loudest thing in the room. “Watch your mouth, Peter. I fucking mean it.” 
You look back and forth between them. They watch each other for a long moment. Jordan looking eerily calm. Peter looks away first. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. Come on, Y/N.” Jordan grabs your hand and marches you out of the locker room. Past Andre and Cate, who try to stop you both but Jordan waves them off and muscles his way past the crowd too. 
He doesn’t stop until you’re back in his dorm room and he’s shut the door behind the two of you. 
“You were fucking that loser?” He asks, clicking the lock into place.    
“You’re lucky Andre and Cate kept people out of the locker room so there’s no video of everything! You could get expelled, Jordan! What the fuck happened?” 
“He hit me first and he’s not even in the top ten. What’s he at? Number 14? No one’ll give a shit what happens to him. When did you start fucking him?”
“I’m not fucking him! Or… I’m not just, fucking him. I’m… I was dating him. Why were you two fighting?” 
“Dating? For how fucking long? You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” Jordan’s hair is already a disheveled mess. He yanks his fingers through the strands and makes it worse. 
“We’ve been going on dates for like… three months? Kinda? Maybe.” You say quietly. 
“Three months?! Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck?” 
“Why are you so mad?”
“Friends talk to each other about shit like this! And if you’d talked to me, I would have told you that Peter is a clout chasing piece of shit that’ll never amount to anything. You should’ve heard the shit he was saying today. Fucking piece of shit!” 
“That’s why you were fighting?” You wring your hands together, a knot tying itself over and over in your stomach. “What did he say?”
Jordan stops pacing the room, goes still and turns away from you. 
“Well? What did he say? It was bad enough to make you two beat the shit out of each other! So what was it?” 
“He just… You don’t have to worry about it, okay? He won’t go near you again.” Jordan says firmly.
“Whatever he said he’s gonna keep saying. Just behind my back. I should know.”
Jordan sighs and moves to sit beside you on his couch, knee bouncing with anxiety. “He was… bragging to his shitty friends. About being the first guy on campus to fuck you. About how it didn’t even take that long and… how… he was thinking of recording you. So he could show them how slutty you are. It was…. fucking disgusting.” 
“Oh.” You say. 
You swallow around the lump in your throat. You’d done everything you could to avoid something like this happening. Had kept your dates off campus, to make sure he actually wanted to date you and not just the hot girl ranked Number 3. You’d spent nights staying up on the phone laughing and talking. You’d put off sleeping with Peter for a whole two months, even though you liked him, because you wanted to make sure he liked you. 
You hadn’t even let him call you his girlfriend until a few days ago. You thought he really liked you. But no matter how hard you try… you guess this is it. You’re just something pretty to look at. Even Vought doesn’t take you seriously, despite your powers. You’re the top ranked student in everything. Right behind Jordan. Forensic analysis. Combat. Battle strategy. Still, you only ever get asked about makeup routines and how to maintain your figure in interviews. 
You wipe at your burning eyes and try not to cry about something you’ve already accepted. 
“Fuck that guy. Fuck him. He’s so far beneath your level I’m surprised you can perceive his plane of fucking existence, okay? He’s a fucking single cell organism. He doesn’t even know what a brain is.” Jordan gets up from the couch to kneel in front of you, tries to look you in the eyes. 
“I’m so fucking stupid.” 
“No, you fucking are not. Don’t say that about yourself. He’s fucking stupid. It’s genuinely insane you even wasted your time with him. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing anyone?” Jordan asks, voice quiet.
“I just…. I wanted to make sure he was actually gonna stick around before I even brought him up to you. You’re so … important, why tell you about someone who isn’t? It’s not like you write home to me about any of the people you mess around with! We’ve never really talked about this kind of stuff.” 
“Yeah, but it’s different. I’m not serious about anyone! You were actually dating, Peter. And I would have told you not to.” Jordan rolls his eyes.
“Well, I wanted to make sure it was serious. Before I even said anything.” 
“It wouldn’t have gotten serious if you’d told me about it in the first place. I wouldn’t have let Peter within ten feet of you!” 
“We’re talking in circles.” You huff in frustration, pressing your palms into your eyes to stop the stinging.
“Sorry, I just…. Fucking still wish I was beating the shit out of him, honestly.” Jordan says.
“You are not leaving this room for the rest of the day, Li. Even if he is Number 14, you can’t walk away from a fight then go back for seconds cause you didn’t get it all out the first time. That won’t hold up too well in court.”
“He heals too fast for there to be any marks left on him. It’ll all be hearsay.” Jordan smirks.  
You let out a weak laugh. Jordan reaches out, touching the corner of your lips. “Can we shoot for something a little bigger? If I don’t see you smile soon I’ll actually go kill him.” 
You roll your eyes and slide to the edge of the couch, so you’re resting your head on Jordan’s shoulder, leaning all your weight against him. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your spine.
“I really wanted it to work out, Jordan.” You mumble into the skin of his collarbone.
“With fucking Peter?” 
“With… anyone.” Your voice wavers and Jordan’s grip gets tighter. “It’s so fucking lonely. I just want to be someone’s favorite person. Not because of how I look, but because they like me. Really like me. And no one fucking does, no matter how hard I try.” The tears start falling now and Jordan pulls back and makes you look up at him, one hand on your cheek. 
“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I fucking… I like you. I’ve always liked you.” Jordan says, frantic as he wipes away the tears as they come.
“It’s not the same, Jordan!” You shake your head, and bite your lip. You’d almost said it’s not enough. Because it isn’t. But you can't think about that for too long. It makes the hole in you ache a little worse. 
“Yeah….guess it’s not.” Jordan says quietly. He keeps wiping away the tears, dutiful and gentle as he goes. 
“You said he hit you first?” You ask, after a long moment of him quietly soothing you.
“Come on, I’m not stupid. Had to let him get the first swing in.” Jordan smirked.
“What did you say to make him hit you?” You ask.
“Told him he was lucky you believe in charity work and giving back to the fucking needy.” 
It’s enough to startle a laugh out of you. You smack his arm weakly before pulling him into another hug. He kisses the top of your head so softly you don’t notice it, too busy laughing. 
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“Y/N, good to see you dear. You keeping our Jordan out of trouble?” Brink asks as he comes out of his office, not surprised to see you perched on Jordan’s desk. 
“Professor, we both know that I’m the one getting Jordan into trouble.” You flash the older man your most mischievous grin. 
“Ah, my apologies. I assume that means you’re distracting her from doing her work, as well?” Brink raises an eyebrow teasingly. 
“Yes.” You say.
“No.” Jordan protests, at the same time. 
You throw your head back with a laugh. “It’s a goal I hold most dear to my heart, to distract Jordan from grading these papers. I think I’m succeeding wonderfully, you’ll be happy to know, Professor.” 
“She’s joking, Professor.” Jordan smacks your thigh and you glance down just in time to burn the image of her hand on your thigh into your brain. She almost never touches you, when she’s like this. 
“You know, Jordan, I didn’t happen to lose my sense of humor after I hit sixty.” Brink waves off Jordan’s concern and leans towards the two of you, whispering conspiratorially, “I know the gray hair gives the illusion of being a boring old fart, but I do like to laugh every now and then.”
Jordan shakes her head with a small laugh and you can’t help but watch, entranced, at the way her hair brushes the olive skin of her cheeks. When you look back towards Brink you find him already watching you, a knowing smile on his lips. You laugh nervously, and look down at the wood grain texture of Jordan’s desk. It’s suddenly fascinating. Is it real oak? Cherry?
“You close to being done, Jordan?” Brink asks casually. 
“Uh-” Jordan’s face blanches and you suddenly feel genuinely sorry for distracting her from her work. 
“-relax, kiddo. You’re not in trouble. Geez, what am I, a work nazi? Those papers don’t need to be graded for another four days, right? You work too hard. I was just asking cause’ I was getting a little hungry myself and wanted to know if you could use a break? There’s a great new Indian place nearby, apparently. Professor. Karp was telling me about it yesterday. It’s only a twenty minute ride away. Wanna tag along?” 
“I should probably finish up a few more papers-” 
“She would love to take a break, Professor.” You reach over, saving the work Jordan’s done and shutting down her laptop at lightning speed. 
“Brat.” Jordan mouths the word at you quickly, so Brink won’t see. 
You stick your tongue out at her, not caring if anyone sees. 
“You should come along too, Y/N. Been awhile since we last caught up.” Brink has a twinkle in his eye that you can’t quite place.
You slide off Jordan’s desk anyways, not willing to pass up any valuable Time Spent With Jordan, “I’m not sure if I trust Professor Karp’s recommendation on restaurants, but I’ll try and be very brave about it if the food is awful.”
“Jordan, have I ever told you how much I love this girl?” Professor Brink shrugs on his coat with a laugh. 
“Yeah.” Jordan watches Brink help you into your own coat with a small smile. “Yeah, Professor you have.” 
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“Fucking fuck me!” Jordan throws her phone onto the coffee table in front of her.
“Are the parental units being emotional terrorists again?” You ask from your spot on her bed, turning the page of your textbook, mindlessly highlighting another sentence that could be important for the upcoming final. 
“No, it’s just the whole fucking roster is busy.” Jordan roughly runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her bob. 
“Huh?” You look up from your notes.
“The whole roster is locked in for finals but I really need to let off some fucking steam!” Jordan sighs.
“How big is the roster?” You try to sound curious, like a best friend would be, and not irritated, like someone in love with their best friend would be. 
“Too big for me to not be fucking someone right now.” Jordan snips. 
“We are studying right now. Or I’m studying, and you should be studying too, instead of thinking about needing to get your rocks off.” You say coolly, flipping to the next page. 
“I can’t fucking focus.” Jordan groans, but comes back over to the bed and flops down beside you, throwing her arm over her eyes. “What concept are we on now?” 
“Theories on limiting public and private property damage in fights with other Supes.”
“There is no fucking way I can focus on something that fucking boring without having an orgasm first.”Jordan groans, again, “It’s not even about limiting loss of human life or injury?”
“Nope. Property damage.” 
“Fuck me!” 
You both fall into silence. You studying. Jordan, you assume, weighing the pros and cons of downloading Tinder. The thought makes your stomach drop.
Then you get an idea. An awful, horrible, no good, rotten fucking idea. 
Your mouth is opening before you can stop yourself, “You could fuck me.”
“Huh?” You’ve never seen Jordan sit up so fast.
“I just mean- … we really gotta focus and I... I mean if you just need to let off some steam we could always…” You try your best to fumble your way into proper usage of the English language but even the thought of fucking Jordan makes that impossible. 
“Are you serious right now?” Jordan shifts halfway through the sentence, eyes glued to your every nervous, jittery movement as you sit in front of him.
“Wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t a real offer.” You say quietly, not looking up from the book. 
Jordan snatches said book from your lap and tosses it away, ignoring your noise of protest. “You don’t think it’d make things weird?” 
“Weird was when I had to take you to get your wisdom teeth removed and you kept saying the green man was gonna get us while you were still high off the good stuff. Sex is just sex, right?” You try to say it casually. 
“Would… would it be a one time thing?” Jordan asks slowly.  
“It could be more… we could be-” You say, equally as slow. 
“- could be?” Jordan echoes, voice sounding oddly tight and expression carefully blank.
The look is so strange it makes you panic, and if you’d thought of saying something stupid and desperate for one second like ‘a couple’, well, that look on his face is more than enough to send you straight back to reality on the ‘my-life-fucking-sucks’ express in no time flat.
“We could be like friends with benefits!” You blurt out in one breath. 
“Oh.” Jordan says. 
“It was just an idea.” You reach for the textbook again, which landed near Jordan’s thigh. You’re careful not to touch him when you grab it, or sound too disappointed, or heartbroken at the completely lackluster reaction Jordan has to the thought of having sex with you. “A stupid idea, forget it.”
“Why’s it stupid?” Jordan’s brow furrows, tone teetering on the edge of defensive. 
“I mean…” You can’t think of a reason fast enough. “We’re probably sexually incompatible.” 
“Why do you assume that?” Jordan goes from staring at you, to glaring at you. 
You’ve always hated how once Jordan latches on to a line of questioning, you can’t get them to drop that interrogation for shit. A dog with a bone has nothing on a Jordan who wants an answer.
“I don’t… know?” You say, but it sounds like a question. 
“I think we’d be compatible.” Jordan states this like he’d state the sky is blue or water is wet. 
“Have you thought about it before?” You ask, bewildered. 
“What, are you into something really kinky?” Jordan answers your previous question not at all.
“No!” There goes that nervous body language of yours again. 
“Only way to really know if we’re sexually compatible is to actually try it out.” Suddenly, Jordan is within your personal space bubble. 
You don’t really know how to react, your body freezes up on instinct. Jordan’s hand comes up to rub soothing circles into the crook of your elbow. Your shoulders fall away from your ears.
“Can I kiss you?” Jordan’s voice is quiet, soft as he tilts his head to knock his nose against yours. Playful, teasing. But the look on his face is something you can’t place at all. 
You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly. 
“Don’t want you to nod when I ask you a question like this. Yes or no, Y/N?” 
“Ye-” The words not fully out of your mouth before Jordan is kissing you, a heavy hand pulling you closer by the nape of your neck. 
You pull yourself into Jordan’s lap and try to focus on how good it feels when he nips at your bottom lip, instead of how much you wished you’d asked him to be your boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. Everything. Even if he’d said no, at least then you would have had an answer. Now you’ve only made your life harder. 
You stop thinking so much when Jordan puts a hand on your hip and guides you to grind yourself against him. 
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“Y/N’s right.” Jordan mutters, not looking up from his phone. 
“No, she is not. You’re just agreeing with her because that’s your default factory setting. Listen to the context of the argument please.” Andre snaps, drowning his Vought Triple meat burger in ketchup.
“I did. Your grim dark theory on children’s media is lame, and Y/N knows more about the Monster’s Inc universe than you ever will.” Jordan shrugs.
“Hah!” You laugh in Andre’s face.
“Is it really such a flex to be an expert on the lore of a Pixar movie universe?” Cate asks teasingly. 
“Yes.” You say. 
“No.” Andre says, like a sore loser.  
“I agree with Y/N, it’s literally in the explicit text of the movie, Monsters Inc isn’t a post-apocalyptic world. It’s a separate dimension from ours. The monsters come to our dimension to harvest screams of children to get clean, scream energy. God, Andre, pay attention during movie night.” Luke jumps in on the tormenting Andre train, grinning wildly at the other man from across the table. He gets a middle finger for his troubles. 
“I’m glad someone pays attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You sniff haughtily. 
“I literally agreed with you first.” Jordan looks at you from over the top of her phone in a way that makes you blush. 
“I’m glad two people are paying attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You clear your throat. 
“Thank you.” Jordan’s intense brown eyes fall away from you and you take a gulp of your drink. 
“Bathroom alert, Y/N. A stall just opened up.” Cate tells you pointing to the bathroom door right as another girl exits. 
“I am kissing you on the lips, telepathically.” You say, sliding from the booth you’re all sharing.
“Don’t you telepathically lip lock with my girlfriend.” Luke calls after you, laughing.
“Get some powers of telepathy yourself and make me, fire boy.” You enter the bathroom, shutting out the sounds of laughter from your table with a smile. 
You take the biggest stall at the back and try to go about your business quickly. You hear two faucets turn on, someone washing their hands, and try not to get pee shy. 
“So how was it?” A monotone voice asks, you assume one of the hand washers.
“You know I don’t usually kiss and tell, but it was insane.” A higher, more giggly voice answers. 
“So they really are good in bed then, huh?” The monotone voice sounds a little more curious. 
“Incredible. All the rumors are true. They’re a little… uh, brusque, about the after sex part, if I’m putting it lightly, but the sex itself was great!” The high voice chirps. 
“What? Did they throw you a towel and tell you to kick rocks?” The monotone voice asks. 
“Pretty much.” The high voice sighs. “But they made me cum so many times I think I’d still pick up if they called me again. You think they might?” 
“I say this with all the love in the world: girl stand up.” Monotone voice drawls. 
“You wouldn’t be telling me that if you knew how good it felt to sit on her face.” High voice says.
You stifle a laugh, trying not to get caught eavesdropping, but with Supe hearing it really is hard to mind your own business. Besides, they’re not being that quiet about the conversation anyways. 
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Or you could experience it for yourself. They were just as good as a boy as they were as a girl. Maybe better. I dunno. She was more aggressive as a girl, which was kinda hot.” 
“Jordan Li, pussy eating extraordinaire. Can we go now? Our food is probably ready.” Monotone voice sighs. 
“Fine, but I’m telling you, the things they can do with a strap are-” 
The voices fade away with the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. 
You find you don’t really want to finish eating your food, when you get back to the table. You spend the rest of lunch trying your best not to look at Jordan, and also ignoring Cate’s concerned gaze boring into the side of your skull. 
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You pretend to be sick to avoid having to face the reality of Jordan being more than happy to touch other girls as a girl. They just don’t want to touch you when they’re a girl. You wonder what about you is so uniquely off putting. You wonder why it can’t be you. Why can’t it ever fucking be you? 
Jordan barges into your room on day three of the silent treatment that you told the group chat was due to a raging fever. 
Luckily your eyes, swollen shut from all the crying, and the red nose to match, corroborate the story. 
“We got it all. We’ve got tissues. We got soup. We got pain meds. We got liquid meds. We also have all the ingredients for a hot toddy, if you want to mix your poisons a little.” Jordan begins to unpack everything onto your counter. 
“I don’t want to take anything.” You say morosely, and a little mean, kind of wanting to hate them but just feeling sad. Jordan’s your best friend before anything else, and you could never hate your first real friend. 
“Come on, just a little something. You sound fucked up.” Jordan practically coos, touching your forehead. “Feels like your fever’s gone down a little. Sit up for me.” He says, and pulls you to sit up when you don’t do it on your own.  
“I don’t want to fucking-” Jordan puts two pills in your mouth as soon as you open it to bitch at him. He hands you water to help you swallow it down. 
“Thanks for that. That was really fun for me.” You snap once you’re done.
“It’s for pain and should bring down the rest of your fever.” Jordan lays you back down, tucking the covers all the way up to your chin. You marvel at the way he doesn’t rise to the bait of your very clear attitude. Jordan, catching the look on your face offers you a small glare. “I’m worried. You usually don’t get sick. I’ll check that attitude when you’re better. Now, do you want the damn hot toddy or not?” He rubs your head soothingly.
“Yes, please.” You try not to pout as you watch Jordan make the drink for you. You really hate how hard it is to hate them. “Sorry, Jordie.” 
“Oh, you can go ahead and save that apology for when I make you cry into your pillow, yeah?” Jordan doesn’t even look up from measuring the ingredients.
You pull the covers over your head and leave them there until Jordan pulls them back down. 
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You almost hadn’t come to the party. 
You weren’t in a partying mood, as of late. You were in more of a Shakespearean pining era than a City Girls one. But the group had bullied you in the group chat for a week straight until you’d promised to come. The group bullying hadn’t worked so much as Jordan asking you one single time to go had.
So here you were. 
You’d been nursing one drink for the better part of an hour and hadn’t done a single line of cocaine. Jordan had offered you some, but the line had already been placed on the back of his hand. You politely declined, much to his confusion. You only ever did hard drugs with Jordan, and only at big rager parties like this one. 
At the moment you’re nearly sober. Because you didn’t so much as want to touch Jordan right now. Let alone do something like snort a line off of him. Then you’d have to do something like lick the residue off his skin. Which would lead to kissing him. Which would lead to making out with him. Which would lead to fucking him. 
And you think, for the sake of your sanity, you need to be done fucking Jordan Li. 
It’s been about three weeks since you were “sick” and you’d dodged every attempt at getting physical that Jordan tried to initiate since. At first you were able to pass it off as still feeling icky. That excuse worked for a week. Now, you didn’t hang out alone with them and pretended not to see Jordan’s ‘you up?’ texts until morning. 
Your friendship just needs a hard reset. This time spent not having sex will do it. 
Besides, it’s not like Jordan isn’t swimming in fucking choices. What does it matter if you’re one less body off the menu? There are plenty of hot girls at this school. Jordan’s probably already fucked half of them.
You throw back the rest of the drink you’ve been nursing all at once.
“Are you okay?” Cate puts a hand on your arm and you offer her a blinding, completely fake smile. 
“Yeah!” You say, as chipper as possible.
“Jesus christ.” Cate replies, face going all sad and concerned. “What did Jordan do?” 
“Huh?” You blink, confused.
“You are the most pissed off I’ve ever seen you. What did Jordan do? You’ve been avoiding them for like two weeks. What gives?” Cate pulls you closer by the arm so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. 
“Nothing!” 
“Can you try to lie again but do it better, this time?” Cate frowns.
“Jesus Christ, does everything have to be about Jordan? Must my whole entire goddamn life revolve around Jordan Li?” You snap, the way someone who isn’t mad about anything does.  
“Okay.” Cate says slowly. Like she’s trying to placate a wild animal. 
The tone alone makes you roll your eyes and move to disappear back in the crowd of drunk twenty-somethings. But she firms her grip on you, the leather of her glove digging into your skin. 
“Y/N-”
“I’m fine, Cate. I just have to get over it.” 
“Get over what?” Cate narrows her eyes at you. That shrewd look she sometimes wears when she knows something before someone else falls onto her face. 
You wonder if you’re completely transparent about your pining or if Cate missed a dose of her medication. Is she starting to hear the buzzing of your frantic, angry, miserable thoughts? Or is she just naturally perceptive? 
“So, this is where the real party is hiding!” An arm is thrown around your shoulders suddenly and you are careful not to sigh, because Jordan may not be as perceptive as Cate, but they’re pretty damn close. Especially when it comes to you. 
You’ve never moved away from them holding you close like this before, so you can’t do it now. You try to just be still. Don’t lean into his warmth, but don’t cringe away either. You probably used to melt against him, when he touched you. Pathetically. Desperately. A sunflower following rays of light across the sky. 
“-Princess?” Jordan gives you a gentle shake and your head snaps to the side to look at him. “You okay?”
“Yup!��� Apparently, you didn’t say that convincingly because he starts to scowl at you. Surprisingly enough, the thought of withstanding a Jordan interrogation does not make you want to be at this party for much longer. “I’m gonna head out, though.” 
“What?!” Twin exclamations of confusion form Jordan and Cate both.
“Not feeling it. I think I need to get some more sleep. I got a headache, or… something.” You shrug.
“Or something?” Jordan echoes.
“You are not going anywhere, yet, dear friend.” Andre throws his own arm around you, appearing from thin air, and tugging you away from Jordan. You’ve never been more grateful to him. 
“How do you figure that?” You laugh.
“We’re about to play truth or dare in the other room and you dodged playing last time. You can leave after you’ve played. You can’t get known as the truth or dare dodger.” Andre says. 
“You say that as if being a party game dodger is like being known for dodging the Vietnam draft.” You snort.
“No, it’s worse. People that dodged the Vietnam drafts are heroes. Truth or dare dodgers are cowards. Come on.” Andre begins to drag you towards the other room and you go along with minimal dragging of your feet across the floor. 
The room is crowded, but all the faces are familiar. They’re all within the top twenty, or the groupies that hang around everyone in the top twenty. You pull Andre across the room to a spot on a raggedy couch you have to squeeze the both of you into. No room for Jordan, who you want to avoid. Or Cate, who is too fucking perceptive. 
You wish you’d grabbed another drink for yourself. Jordan winds up across the room from you, in an optimal position for trying to catch your eye and give you a concerned look every ten seconds. 
This does not make Truth or Dare more fun to watch. 
Vulgar dare from one classmate to another. Forcing someone else to admit an uncomfortable truth. One humiliation after the other. Pick your poison on whether you want to debase yourself through the damnation of your own words or a physical act. All challenges of self-mortification being doled out by people who secretly don’t like each other very much, but all call each other friends anyways. 
“Earth to Y/N the space cadet.” The girl sitting next to you gives you a playful shove. You try not to glare at her. Her name escapes you. You think she hangs around with number 6. Or something. 
“What?”
“Cate picked you. Truth or dare.” She says the words ominously, causing teasing jeering to rise from the entire group. 
“Well, Y/N, what’s it gonna be?” Cate raises her eyebrow at you challengingly. 
“She doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to, guys.” Jordan rolls his eyes.
“Dare.” You say, wanting to get this over with. 
The room erupts into excited noise. You don’t know why. Cate, of all people, would never force you to do anything humiliating. Or truly scandalous. It’s why you trust her enough to say dare, instead of truth. But you never pick dare, because anyone else would abuse the power. Everyone looks too eager to see Number 3 do something embarrassing. 
As if Cate isn’t your closest friend beside Jordan. As if she’d abuse the trust you place in her. It makes you sick. You don’t wanna be here. At this party, or at this stupid fucking school.
“I dare you…. to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” 
“What?!” Jordan turns to give Cate the nastiest, most disgusted glare you’ve ever seen.
“She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to. You know I’m all about consent.” Cate shrugs innocently, crossing her legs together and giving you a smirk. 
You sit for a second, contemplating your next move. There are plenty of pretty girls at this party. In this room. If nothing else, the top twenty and their groupies are photogenic (hell, some of them are only in the top twenty because of their looks to begin with. You hope you’re not one of those.) But there’s only one girl you want to kiss at this party. 
There’s only one person in the world you want to kiss at all. 
You take a shaky breath, feeling like the walls are closing in. Andre nudges you subtly, catches your eye, as if to say: ‘you okay?’ but there’s something else in the look too. Something that says it’s not just Cate, who knows. Probably your whole friend group knows how you feel. Probably the whole school. Probably anyone but Jordan sees it. And Jordan probably does see it, because they’re too fucking smart not to, and they’re choosing to ignore it. Because it’s easier that way. Because your feelings are probably too inconvenient. Because you’re not their type. Because you’re clingy, and stupid, and not good enough- 
You stand up. The room is a wall of noise, and smell and sound pressing in on you. You see Cate smirk. You see Jordan looking away. You see every girl in the room sit up straight. Delusional, if they think any of them could ever be anything, compared to Jordan. 
You walk past every other girl in the room, and stand in front of Jordan, who still isn’t looking.
You kick his ankle with the toe of your heel, to get him to look at you. His head snaps around, the curls of his hair sticking to his forehead, and he looks comically confused. And it’s really too fucking much, for someone as smart as Jordan to look so confused. So fucking baffled, about what’s happening here. But it’s a pretty convincing act. That only makes you more angry. 
You make an impatient motion with your hand. A ‘do it already’ movement of your wrist. The same way you’d crossly signal for another driver to go first at a fucking four way stop. 
He just blinks up at you, owlish. 
"Well? Are you gonna let me kiss the prettiest girl at this fucking school or what, Li?" The room has gone a little quiet, or maybe the blood is rushing in your ears so bad everything is quiet in comparison. 
Jordan stares up at you for a moment longer than is comfortable. And you really start to feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you. You don’t let yourself shy away from the attention. Not Jordan’s, not anyone else’s. You straighten your spine and look down your nose at him, and tap your foot. Try to look like the mean girl everyone expects you to be because no one cares who you actually are. 
As if you could care less if Jordan leaves you stranded right now. As if it will be their loss, if they don’t kiss you, instead of the worst moment of your entire life. 
Jordan shifts. 
You try not to think of how desperate you must look, when you reach out at a speed that isn’t human to hold her face and angle it up, so you can finally fucking kiss the girl you love. 
You wish you could kiss her like it didn’t mean anything. Like she’s nothing. Like you hate her. But you don’t know if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Jordan when she’s your girl, and not your boy. This might be the last time you kiss Jordan ever. 
It has to be. 
You close your eyes tight. Try to ignore the way they’re stinging. You kiss Jordan slow and tender. The way you’ve always wanted to. You tangle a hand in her hair, to bring her closer. You try not to marvel at the way the longer strands tangle in your fingertips. She gasps against you, and her hands find your waist and you are too sober to cry over Jordan touching your waist above your clothes. Like a fucking middle-schooler. 
But the tears start falling anyways. You let out a quiet sob against her lips that you try your hardest to stifle, and Jordan may not have kissed you like this before. But she’s kissed you plenty. She pulls back, startled, like an animal. Big brown eyes full of concern. 
And the spell is broken, and you are standing in front of about thirty of the world’s worst, most unsympathetic human beings, crying, because you kissed your best friend who doesn’t want you back. 
You’ve got ten seconds to leave before someone pulls out their phone and records you. If they haven’t already started. 
So you run.
Through your tears the layout of the house becomes unfamiliar. You try to hide your face a little, and hope people don’t recognize you as you pass them by, sobbing openly. 
Years of pent up feelings are bubbling out of you. The relief. The grief. The way you hate yourself for falling in love with the only person who has ever loved you. Wondering why you couldn’t just be grateful for the kindest, most understanding friendship you never even thought yourself worthy of. Why couldn’t that have been enough? 
Why did you fall in love with them? 
A hand closes around your wrist and you try to yank yourself away but you’re pulled into a bathroom and the door slams shut behind you. 
You wipe your eyes so you can see who’s tried to save you from embarrassing yourself any further. 
It’s Jordan. Because of course it is.
You burst into tears again. 
“Are you fucking drunk? What the fuck was that? Y/N what the fuck is happening right now?” Jordan sounds on the verge of a mental break. 
She’s probably wondering what type of things people are gonna start saying about the two of you on social media. She’s probably mad at you for giving her a PR mess to clean up. 
“I’m not drunk!” You protest, sounding a little like someone who might be drunk. 
“Are you high? What did you take? Lemme see your pupils.” Jordan reaches out to grab your face and you swat her hand away. 
“No one fucking drugged me, Jordan. I’m just a stupid fucking idiot who’s in love with you! There! Are you happy?! Why don’t you go laugh at me with one of your stupid fucking girlfriends. You’ve got so fucking many of them.” You wail, sinking down to the floor, and hiding your face in your arms. 
The room goes quiet, besides the sound of you crying. Loudly. You think you might be having an anxiety attack. You can’t breathe right. But maybe that’s just from the heaving, toddler-like sobs. 
“You’re in love with me?” Jordan asks, quietly. 
“As if you don’t know!” You snap your head up to glare at her. She kneels down in front of you, and puts her hand on your knee and you try not to get distracted by how pretty she is. “I follow you around like a puppy dog. Like your little shadow. And everyone notices except for you, because you don’t want to notice, because you don’t fucking want me. I got the message, Jordan. I got it!” 
“What message?!” Jordan grabs you by the shoulders, voice fraying at the edges, and looks like she wants to shake you.
“You don’t touch me!” Your voice raises to the edge of a yell, and the sound of it echoes in the small room. 
“What are you fucking talking about-”
“-don’t be cute, Jordan. You don’t touch me when you’re a girl! I thought… I thought it was maybe just that you didn’t touch girls when you’re a girl but it isn’t. Apparently you have plenty of fucking girls that you touch and fuck, when you’re a girl. It’s just me, that you don’t! What’s so fucking bad about me? Huh? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?” You demand.
You think you might sound like an insane person, and you wish you could pull the words back in but the hurt is bubbling out. A river relishing that first burst of freedom when a dam breaks, no matter how much damage it causes. 
Jordan is staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. Mouth agape. You wish you were dead, a little.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jordie.” Your voice goes small, and you sniffle. “I really tried to stop. But I can’t, I love you. I’ve probably loved you from that very first day. Because you’re wonderful, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how anyone…” You trail off, fanning at your eyes to try and pull yourself together. “...I don’t know how everyone else knows you without being in love with you. I wish I wasn’t in love with you, please don’t be mad, please don’t fucking-” You sob, again. 
You find yourself pulled into Jordan’s lap this time. It’s a foreign feeling, to be touching so much of Jordan when she’s like this. You bury your face into her neck and cry, and let her black hair block out the fluorescent lighting. She shushes you, cheek pressing against the side of your head, and that’s familiar. The way she soothes you. Your hands wrinkle the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her tightly. 
“I’m sorry. I can get over it, I promise. I just needed to tell you. I’ve never kept anything from you before. It was killing me, but I can get over it, Jordie, I promise-” 
“Hey, hey, hey, no-” Jordan’s turning you to look at her suddenly. “Don’t fucking… I’m not… I’m not mad at you or fucking… gonna leave you, Y/N. What the fuck? I love you.”
You could start crying from the relief of hearing those words come from her lips again. You thought she wouldn’t ever speak to you again. She grabs you by the chin and kisses you, hard, your teeth clink together and your noses mush and you go completely still and frozen, like a scared deer. 
“I could see the words not fucking register in your brain the way I meant them. I am in love with you. Romantically.” Jordan barely pulls away, you feel her lips brush against yours, every other word. 
“What?” 
Jordan laughs, “Good, now you’re just as confused as I fucking was. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want you? I’ve always wanted you. You’re…you.” 
“I’m me?” You echo. 
“I didn’t…. I didn’t want to make you feel… like everyone else has. Like I was just fucking waiting around for a chance to date you. Or fuck you. As if your friendship doesn’t fucking matter. Or was a consolation prize, if I couldn’t get you to date me. It isn’t a consolation prize. It’s the most important thing to me in the fucking world.” Jordan laughs, and the sound is suspiciously choked up. 
“Oh.” You say, and are crying. Again. Jordan laughs and wipes the tears away with her thumb. 
“But what about when we started having sex? You still… never touched me when you’re like this.” 
“You’ve never said anything about liking girls.” Jordan says quietly.
“You’re not just a girl. You’re the girl. And guy. ” You say, holding her hand against your face and kissing her palm fiercely. She laughs again, and puts her forehead against yours. 
“So what? I’m the one girl you’re into?” Jordan raises a brow and doesn’t look very happy saying the words, oddly enough. 
You tilt your head trying to puzzle out why, slowly, you arrive at a conclusion. “I literally talk about girls all the time.” 
“When?!” 
“I’m constantly pointing out pretty ones!” You snap. 
“I thought you were just being sweet!” Jordan snaps back. 
You close your eyes and breathe in the smell of her cologne. 
“You make me so angry I don’t know how to think.” You say, and kiss her bottom lip softly. “You’re not an… experiment, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re the…” You trail off, realizing this is not one of your romantic daydreams where you’ve thought of the words you’d tell Jordan over and over again. 
In real life you can’t tell people that they’re the love of your life if you aren’t their girlfriend. Unless you want to look crazy.
Jordan, who is your best friend, before she’s anything else, melts. Because she knows you well enough to know what you aren’t saying.
“Yeah.” Jordan nods, sniffling once and trying to look very tough even though her lip is quivering a little. “I… I love you too. Or whatever.” 
“If it makes you feel better I’ve slept with other women before, to make sure I wasn’t just in love with you.” 
“Weird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.” She glares at you. 
“I think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while I’m trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?” 
“What?” Jordan’s brow furrows. 
“Three weeks ago I heard-”
“-I fucking knew you’ve been mad at me!” Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.
“You would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!” 
“If I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again I’m going to go to prison.”
“Hot.” 
“Shut up and be my girlfriend.”
“Shut up and be my everything.” 
“You’re gross.” But she kisses you, and it’s gentle, and no one else is there to see it. 
And it’s perfect.
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A/N: this is my first time doing full on smut for a fic! it beat me the fuck up. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo
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potionpeddlerpatchy · 2 months
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Crowned Prince Shouto who is so very much in love with you, even if it did take a while to come around after the arranged marriage occurred.
Crowned Prince Shouto whose brow creases and eyes twitch every time people in high court mock how plain you are under hushed breaths.
Crowned Prince Shouto who gets absolutely sloshed at a royal banquet to try and drown his anger when he hears a rumor going around that his marriage is unconsummated due to finding you so repulsive before storming off to find you.
Royal Advisor Izuku who rushes off to try and follow, only to hear a shriek coming from your room. When scrambling to investigate if you're okay he finds his master on his knees absolutely devouring your cunt while your receiving chamber door remains open a crack.
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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yurislilygarden · 3 months
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ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel
ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1
ʚїɞ Alastor and Lucifer Morningstar
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.7k
ʚїɞ I planned for all hotel characters first but then I realized how much I'm thinking on each paragraph and its details that I decided to just do 2-3 charas per part😭
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Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch. 
While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:
ALASTOR
Irritation with a hint of madness.
His first thoughts about the situation would be how ironic it is that he seeks entertainment for himself while his own person, no, character, was a source of entertainment for whatever was watching them from time to time. It was quite ironic how he said that his face was made for radio when the truth couldn't be further from that. He was literally created solely to be watched on that funny colored box by… whatever was watching him and the others.
He was irritated at not noticing that something was wrong immediately, now he thinks about how blind he was, how obvious everything was. The city is actually quiet, too quiet when the noise and demons aren't needed, when they're not meant to be heard. Nothing actually happened that one time when he was out for a fix of his coat, it just got magically fixed, he went and came back when someone else decided he was to do so. They didn’t have much actual free will when he thought about it and that's what he was mad about. He thought that his deal was a massive problem to him, oh how wrong he was because the problem was you.
He doesn't know how he or the others didn't notice the small, glowing butterfly flying above their heads from time to time. They couldn't be that blind, could they? The little crystal thing (could he break it?) must have done something to be unnoticed for so long. He wondered how long they were watched for, the little thing above their heads seemed to be speaking sometimes, seemingly knowing what would happen… at least he thought so, the words would cut out so often that he was left with a pure guess at one point.
He didn't want to accept that he wasn't real, that he was just a 2D character with the sole purpose of entertaining someone. He was meant to be the one entertained, not you. But he couldn't actually do anything, could he? For sure not until more of the people he knew were aware. 
That's also something that he noticed. When it came to the hotel staff and guests, he seemed to be the only one who realized the situation at first. It took a few times of some events repeating before he noticed that someone else from the hotel was noticing the little crystal butterfly above their heads as well. 
Alastor seemed to be the first, or one of the very first people who noticed that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if someone realized before him, and if they did then who, but he was somewhat glad that he could finally discuss the topic at least a little once the other hotel patrons found out about the truth. He isn't one to really open up in any way, but this was a matter where he had to communicate with the others.
You. He didn’t know what to think of you at first. He did see you in a more negative light at first, under many emotions hitting him at once which he hated but after he calmed down, he started thinking. At first, he was sure you were some sick person seeking entertainment from the suffering of others, and yeah he was doing pretty much the same, but were you really alike when he wasn’t even real and you were? He was pretty sure that he’s never gonna get used to saying that.
Over time, when he stopped overthinking (he’s gonna deny that he was doing that till the day of his 2nd death), he noticed a few changes. The less negative his posture and thoughts were about you, even if neutral, the more he was able to find out. Alastor was able to pick up more than a few words whenever you talked, he was able to hear you talking clearly enough to recognize a possible gender, and something he wasn’t sure that he wanted to think about, it was way easier to pick up your emotions in your words.
I feel like he would be more lenient towards you if it turned out you were a female (or identified as one), but that would be the mama’s boy inside of him talking. There wouldn’t be too many differences of course, but those who spent enough time around him would be able to tell there's a difference after finding out your gender if it turned out you weren’t a man (again, not too much but it IS noticeable).
He would go from lowkey hating you at first to being mostly neutral with a hint of positive light as you seemed to do nothing but watch, up until later on when everyone is self-aware as well and would talk about the whole thing. Only then would the feelings towards you, the little watcher, as he first called you, turn more positive.
LUCIFER
Massive inner conflict and a complete mix of emotions
He didn’t know what to think. It was hard to comprehend that he didn’t actually live for as long as he thought, that all the things that supposedly happened, in fact never were even close to happening, they were just… a scripted past. 
Was all his suffering for nothing? Was it there just to entertain someone? Did those things who watched them enjoy seeing them sad and hurt? He was simply lost on what to think about the whole situation, it wasn't something that he could prepare himself for in any way beforehand. 
He was disappointed in himself for not noticing immediately or at least faster that something was not right. He's the literal King of hell! Even if… only in a show apparently… but he still is. No one better say anything about that because he's already on the brink of a yet another breakdown. He cannot take much more.
Should he try doing something about this? Or should he stay quiet and go with the script as he's supposed to? He wasn’t sure about the answer himself and had no one to answer his questions. The thought that what he thought were eons of life was actually a lie was… a little terrifying. Who knows just how much can someone force them to do without caring for their opinions because they don’t know that he and the others are aware of everything now, how much can you cause without their consent? He wasn’t sure if you or anyone else knew about them being self-aware or not.
He would actually try to ignore the little butterfly whenever he would see it, but at the same time, many questions were swirling in his mind.
Why were you around? Did you like to see them suffering? Did you have any control over what you saw? Did you have some sort of control over them? Did you have plans regarding them? Did you-
Yeah, again, he has a lot of questions and absolutely zero answers.
His personal feelings about you were all around at first. Not sure whether he should hate, dislike, or be generally negative about you, be more neutral, or be on the more positive side, especially since you didn't seem to do anything but watch them. Like it's all that you could do when it comes to them, but he couldn't be 100% sure.
Similarly to Alastor, he would be one of the characters who noticed something wrong on the first watch of the show before becoming self-aware quite soon after that. I don't think he, nor Alastor, would notice the other knows too fast, since both try to act like nothing's wrong around others. He did not want to be just a 2D character, something to be watched on a screen. It was… humiliating, in his eyes. He could tell that Charlie and the others weren't aware of anything at first so he didn't speak about it until later on when he was sure that they came to their senses, as he would like to say.
He wondered how long were you actually there before he, or anyone else, started to see or notice you, especially since he could literally hear you. Both as the small insect and the occasional words he was able to pick up. And that's if he was to forget the butterfly was literally, softly fucking glowing. Yeah, they're all blind.
I think that if you’re on the younger side, (which technically is any age a human can be alive at compared to him lmao) he would be a little softer, especially if you're similar to his daughter in character. It would come from the paternal side of his, you would probably remind him of Charlie so much :(
He would be more on the negative side at first, as much as he wishes he didn't straight up assume how you were as a person, it took some time but he went into the more neutral zone before being positive about you after being able to hear more of you talking, as he was able to at least have more idea about your character and wasn't completely clueless like at the start.
Your nickname also got changed to something else, something cuter over time, as Alastor’s name for you, little watcher, was deemed not good enough by everyone (Lucifer's words)
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Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated
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“Does Lucifer moan? Does he groan? Whimper? Gasp? Squeak? Quack?”
I have a better question.
Does Lucifer break the bed?
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Left Behind and Bleeding
Summary: you’ve been feeling forgotten all week when your period shows up you just want to curl up and hide. Will your girlfriends look after you this time?
TW: Angst, periods, being forgotten, anxiety, feeling left out, abandonment issues, self-doubt, mentions of drug use, teasing
Words: 1.2K
A/n: it’s that time of the month when I hit you with another period fic lol. Sorry it’s a bit short. Also … I may be projecting again … maybe hehe.
It had been a bad few days to say the least. To start off you had plans to hang out with Natasha, but she got given a last-minute mission, so you had to postpone. Which would have been fine on its own, but it seemed yo have sparked a pattern.
All week people had been cancelling on you, having some reason or another that seemed valid at the time but looking back made you overthink.
Wanda had some people she needed to visit, and you understood. But everyone seemed to be prioritising other things. Even your mother wasn’t answering your calls. Leading you to believe she was either dead or ignoring you.
On the fourth day of having nobody to hang out with in the usually very busy tower, you were getting fed up.
Your mind had been trying to spin a story that everyone simply didn’t like you. That they would rather hang out with other people and that you really didn’t have anyone in your corner.
Of course, you had been fighting the notion for days now, but it was getting harder to ignore as people continued to have bigger, better things to do without you.
Nat had gotten back from her mission and had immediately gone to do some training and after you caught her watching a movie with Clint. You had moped around your room all afternoon, feeling like you were a B-list avenger at best.
Your mind had convinced you that nobody cared and so you had spent the afternoon crying alone in your room.
When dinner came, it seemed everyone had returned. Something you had not been counting on, so your eyes were still red and puffy when Jarvis announced dinner.
In a panic you threw on some sunglasses in an attempt to keep the others from finding out.
Yet it had simply orchestrated a point of teasing for the whole meal. Everyone wanted to know why you were wearing them, but you kept your head down and tried to seem cheerful.
Sam was trying to convince people that you must have been high, while wanda could practically hear your loud thoughts from the other end of the table. Her and Nat exchanged expressions when you got up from the meal not even halfway through.
Feeling awful you almost cried when you got back to your room to discover your period had started.
Life seemed to be throwing more than a few curveballs at you, it was throwing the full field.
You stuck in a pad and threw on some warm pjs before crawling under the covers and letting a few tears fall while your breathing evened out.
Wanda had finished her dinner around the same time as Natasha had so, they had met up in the kitchen while washing their dishes.
“Wanda?” Nat asked from where she was drying her plate off.
“Yeah?” Wanda asked, her hands covered in suds.
Nat chewed her lip for a second before carefully selecting her words. “Was there … anyone off with Y/n these last few days?” Nat asked.
“I don’t know why?” Wanda said and Nat frowned.
“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’ werent you here?” Nat said.
“No? I told you I was visiting friends for a few days.” Wanda said.
“Oh my god.” Nat said feeling bad. “Did we both ditch her for a week?”
“No? I mean surely, she had the others to hang out with. Right?” Wanda said.
“Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling.
“Yes, Ms Romanoff what can I do for you?” The AI responded.
“Who in the past week has cancelled plans with Y/n?” Nat asked.
“In the past week I believe each of the avengers have been either ‘too busy’ or had ‘other plans’ to spend time with Ms L/n.” Jarvis said.
“Oh god.” Wanda said. “Jarvis? What has Y/n been doing this past week?”
“Ms L/n has spent most of her time in her room. Either sleeping or crying. She also has been avoiding everyone for the last half of the week.” Jarvis said and Wanda and Natasha’s hearts broke.
“We are the worst girlfriends ever.” Wanda said feeling awful.
“We should go check on her.” Nat agreed and the two of them headed for the lift.
When they stood outside your bedroom door Natasha hesitated for a second.
“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Nat asked.
“Im sure she will, it’s Y/n. She may be sad but her hearts still twenty-four carat.” Wanda said and Nat nodded and knocked.
When no response came, she gently opened the door. Making out a Y/n shaped lump in the bed she entered and quietly walked over to your side.
Wanda took note of the chocolate wrappers on your bedside table and the hot water bottle you had cuddled up to.
You had seemingly used your powers to heat up the water-bottle and your brow was creased in pain.
“Nat?” Wanda said and Natasha nodded.
“I see.” She said.
Wanda sighed and slipped into bed behind you. Gently playing with your hair as Nat went to search for some pain medicine for you, knowing that you wouldn’t have taken any yet.
Wanda rubbed slow circles on your back and brushed a hand onto your cheek.
“Y/n baby, can you open your eyes for me my love?” Wanda asked softy. You let out a small whimper and Wanda’s heart melted.
“Wands?” You asked in a small voice.
“Yes, baby its me.” She said pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheekbone.
“Hurts.” You said softly and she nodded.
“Natty’s gone to get you some medicine.” Wanda said just as Natasha walked back in with some pills and a glass of water.
“Here you go my sweet girl.” Nat said as wanda helped sit you up, leaning into her side.
Nat passed you the medicine and you took it without protest, telling both girls just how bad you were really feeling.
“I’m sorry we weren’t here my love.” Nat said brushing a curl from your cheek.
“That’s ok. You had important things to do.” You mumbled into Wanda’s chest where you had buried your face.
“Baby girl, nothings more important than you.” Wanda said stroking your hair.
“Why don’t we put on a movie, and you can try and get some sleep ok?” Nat said gently and you nodded, shuffling over to make room for her on the bed.
Wanda used her magic to open the small mini fridge in the room and floated a pint of your favourite icecream and three spoons over.
“I got this for you before I left my love.” Wanda said with a smile passing you a spoon.
Natasha slipped in beside you and Wanda, passing you the remote you put on an episode of Parks and Recreation as you began to eat some icecream and cuddle.
After a few spoonfuls Nat stole the container, Afterall you have been making a mess. There was even icecream on your nose which wanda softly kissed away, making you giggle as you begun doze in the presence of your two amazing girlfriends.
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buqbite · 10 months
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1863rd destruction of [Eden]
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fauxraven · 1 year
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|| Dreamlist ||
The Sandman
The Time Paradigm
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pairing: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x fem!reader
summary: love survives all, endures all; even the end of the world as we know it. Endless as he may be, nothing lasts forever or in which she saves him time and time again.
warnings: overall cuteness, powerful reader, things are meant to be, implied past relationships, mind fuckery, Dream?, smut
[I] Paragon of Hope
[II] A Grecian Dream of Hospitality
[III] Rara Avis
[IV] Endless First Impressions
[V] Library of Everlasting Deceit
[VI] Mutually Assured Salvation
Imagines:
• Brave New Dream
Oneshots:
Age of the Wandering Fae
Crossovers:
[Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives] • Living Fae Element {Coming Soon}
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yuwuta · 2 months
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Nsfw // Remember the itfs talk?? Cause I was thinking, I was thinking so hard about what to answer cause like yesss!!!
I want to focus on the latter tags cause.... Wow thats what I'm talking about!! Whenever I read itafushi I like top yuuji and bottom (and more often than not sub) megumi. So it makes so much sense that you'd want to take revenge for that cause he liked you but chose to ask yuuji out before asking you?? Or, yuuji knew megs liked you and still choose to ask him out?? So, in the first scenario it would be more than fair to dom him! Maybe you were all just talking about how you all ended up together and yuuji just lets that slip. maybe you're feeling like being a bit (or maybe a lot) mean to megumi, get him on his knees, sucking, deepthroating really, yuuji with you controlling his movements absolutely forcing him to take all of yuus length down his throat and gag like crazy with an obscene amount of spit oozing out of the corner of his lips. It was definitely personal too, they way you were treating megumi. Yuuji is not innocent in all of this ofc, but I'll let that slide for the sake of the moment. To continue punishing megs you would have your way with yuuji while he just sits there and... watch. It would end with yuuji giving you a huge creampie, it was such a lewd sight too, his dick was already shining cause of megumis spit, and even more after he entered you cause you were soaked. So there you are, full of your bfs cum seeping out and you ask megumi to clean you, cause that wouldn't be the first nor last time that he'd taste yuuji. Your revenge on yuuji is definitely happening another day too
gnaws on a steel plate… godddddddd okokokok yuuji has such an effortless dominate aura about him that’s a little scary once he hones in on it. most of the time, it’s purely his outgoing, charming nature and physical strength that lures other people into submission by will or force, whichever comes first, and he’s sort of naive to it. but when he chooses to exercise that strength, when he chooses to be stronger than you, than megumi, when he chooses to seduce, it’s mind-numbing, it’s boyish, but there’s still a distinct power struggle that it’s dizzying… insane… 
anyway… you said two very important things in here and i only have the space (brainpower) to bring attention to one right now, and i will below, but just know we need to come back to the point about letting yuuji creampie you while megumi’s there bc i am firm believer that that’s actually one of megumi’s biggest fantasies. in general, seeing you and yuuji together does very bad things for his brain but not bad enough for him to deny that… also megumi king of safe sex until it comes to watching yuuji cum inside of you goddddd
yuuji is the one who instigates your revenge in the first place (and he will also do the opposite, will convince megumi that he deserves to take some frustration out on you, that you were sooo oblivious while he pined for you for all those years, how you weren’t very observant as his best friend and now he’s got the chance to show you exactly how badly he’s wanted you… but that’s for another time…)—but right now, yuuji’s getting into your head, he’s deceptively charming, not at all innocent, and far too calculated when he stops making out with megumi and turns to you, not too far away, sitting up against the headboard with wide eyes. yuuji thinks you look awfully cute—you always do when you three are together, you have this wide-eyed awe about you; not shy, but definitely still timid about the fact that you’re now dating your childhood best friend and his boyfriend. yuuji loves that look, but he thinks he’d like to ruin it more. 
and he takes the opportunity to do so, much to megumi’s surprised and distaste—ignoring megumi’s pawing at the hem of his shirt, impatient, yuuji looks over his shoulder to you and poses, “can i ask you something?” 
your eyebrows raise in surprise. megumi’s raise in suspicion, petulantly coming down from the high of making out with yuuji, and craning his head back to look at you. your eyes shift to his briefly, and then back to yuuji’s, almost embarrassed, and when he looks at megumi, there’s a slight blush at the tips of his ears. cute. you two are very cute, and yuuji likes it a lot. it confirms to him exactly what he wants to happen tonight. 
“you remember how i told you about yuuta-senpai? and how he’s my best friend, but when he started dating inumaki-senpai, i kinda hated him because they spent so much time together?” yuuji recounts casually, biting back a grin when megumi huffs. you nod, evidently confused, but yuuji continues, slowly reaching a hand up megumi’s arm, over his shoulder, up his jaw, until he reaches the shell of his ear, then asks, “did you ever feel that way about me?”
he can see the shock on your face, hear it from megumi when he gasps a bit and pulls away from yuuji’s touch, “what kind of a—”  
but yuuji doesn’t want to hear his side of the story right now. in fact, if all goes his way, he won’t be hearing much of anything from megumi tonight—he reaches his hand back up to pinch at megumi’s ear, and hushes him, “i’m just asking her, meg. she’s my girlfriend now, too. don’t i get to know these things?” 
your mouth is slightly ajar, and yuuji chuckles. you’re so quiet, he’s beginning to think he’s scared you, but soon, you smile, sweet, and gentle, and he can’t even blame megumi for fawning over you since middle school. “i—i didn’t hate you yuuji,” you reply, “i thought—think—you’re good for megumi. i just wanted him to be happy, and you make him happy.” 
yuuji hums. no wonder you two never got together before. “so you’re the self-sacrificing type, too, huh?” he smiles, far less innocently than you might think, “maybe i should have gotten you and yuuta-senpai together, instead.” 
you look like you’re about to refute, but megumi pulls back again, throughly annoyed when he interjects, “what the hell are you—”
but yuuji is quick to move his hand from his ear to his throat, pinching his fingers around his neck with just enough pressure to stutter and silence him. 
“i’m still not talking to you,” he reminds megumi, eyes sharp. he squeezes around megumi’s neck a bit tighter, before turning his attention back to you, “was he always like this? always biting before you can bark? must have been kind of annoying to deal with, huh?” 
your eyes widen, bambi-like and yuuji almost coos. from where you’re sitting against the headboard, you can’t see megumi’s face completely, just a sliver of his cheek, but you can probably tell by the reddening skin around his neck and ears that yuuji’s not just choking him for show. 
“i—uh… it’s not like that, it’s just… yuuji you’re gonna hurt him…”
but, you should also be able to tell that megumi’s not fighting it either. 
“you’re always so worried about him,” yuuji pushes megumi back against the pillows, paying no mind to his panting, simply ordering, “stay down.” 
yuuji then reaches out for you instead, gently pulling your body towards in him stark contrast to how he’d treated megumi a moment ago—twirling you as best he can while you’re kneeling on the mattress, maneuvering your body so that you’re straddling megumi and yuuji’s back is pressed against yours. 
yuuji hears you gasp, ever so lightly, when you inadvertently press your crotch against megumi’s. he almost wants to watch you two do that instead, but right now he’s a man on a mission, so instead, he puts his hands on his hips to keep you still, “see—he can take it. he even likes it.” 
you raise a hand to reach out to megumi, but yuuji stops you, forcing your back flush against his front, and caging you in with his arms and resting his chin against your shoulder. he turns his head to kiss you on the cheek, slow, once, and then again, and then against your earlobe, “you wanna try?” 
“try—what, choking him?” you ask, trying to turn your head to face yuuji, but he keeps it steady, keeps you facing megumi. 
“it’s not like you’re gonna hurt him,” yuuji hums against your skin, trails open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “it’ll feel good, i promise.”  
“well, uh... megumi, do you—”  
but yuuji raises a hand to squish your cheeks together before you can finish, turns your head to him and tuts, “i’m telling you it’s okay. megumi didn’t ask you before he asked me out, right? you don’t need his permission for everything, princess.” 
yuuji’s not just leveraging your feelings against each other now—now it’s sexual knowledge too, all the fantasies megumi has indulged him in about you, all the kinks he has that you’re clueless to. yuuji knows that despite the history you and megumi have, he’s the bridge between you now—and right now, yuuji wants you on his side.
“must bother you a little bit, right?” yuuji coos, releasing his grasp on your cheeks and using his hand to tilt your chin upwards to face him, “that he asked me out when he still had a crush on you. it still bothers me sometimes—and yet he had the nerve to get upset when i asked you about it. kinda selfish, no?” 
“i’m just saying, i think you should teach him a lesson,” yuuji continues, using his other hand to help your body rock against megumi’s, drinking in the sight of your pliant lips and the sound of his strained sighs. 
megumi’s probably not far from cumming in his boxers at this point, and you’re not far from helping yuuji make him do worse. 
“come on, princess,” yuuji smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before looking at megumi, “you gonna help me put a leash on him?” 
it’s an invitation and a threat, this you seem to understand. you can say yes to yuuji, say yes to having megumi between you two tonight, say yes and have a little bit of power; or you can say no, and be on the receiving end of punishment. 
yuuji almost thinks you’ll choose the latter out of loyalty, out of devotion to your best friend, out of shyness and inexperience in taking what you want, but you’re not just megumi’s anymore—your his girl now, too, and you make it known when your soft hand crawls up megumi chest and to his neck, and hesitantly wraps around his throat. 
tonight, megumi’s yours and yuuji’s. 
“good girl,” yuuji grins, wicked with intent when he presses a kiss to the back of your neck, “now lets have some fun with him.” 
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melloeyed · 1 year
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Double Trouble
Johnathan Ohnn (The Spot) X GN! Reader
A/N: The reader has the same superpowers as The Polka-Dot Man from The Suicide Squad only with a few added cosmic quirks. Enjoy!
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On the busy streets of Brooklyn, The Spot and Y/N walk past the oblivious citizens, donning their ‘inconspicuous’ disguises. Spot only had on a loose grey gym jacket, green sunglasses, and a brown wrinkled fedora, while Y/N wore a orange bucket hat, purple glasses, and an oversized red Hawaiian shirt.
Their disguises barely even covered the multiple spots on their pale skin. How the hell did they even go unnoticed?
The disguised duo walked towards the convenience store window, cupping their hands on the window in sync as they lean their heads in to get a better view.
“Ok, remember the plan?” Spot whispered.
“This is so stupid…” Y/N muttered.
“It’ll work, trust me!”
“Yeah, right. My idea was better!”
“Oh, just shut up and follow my lead!”
Y/N rolls their multicolored dot eyes as they follow Spot in the convenience store, re-running his plan in their head.
‘Distract the cashier while I steal the money from the ATM machine. Got it?’
Y/N sighs, walking towards the food isles. They clutch onto their rainbow backpack straps in anticipation as they peek over one the food isles, glancing at Spot, waiting for the signal.
“Excuse me, do you have uh, an ATM machine?” The Spot asked the cashier. “Yeah, around here in the back.” The cashier replied, barely looking at Spot.
“Preferably not chained to the wall…?” Spot muttered.
“What?”
“Uh, nothing!”
Y/N’s dot eyes lit up when the Spot looked at them, gesturing his head towards the cashier while walking towards the ATM. Y/N clenched their spotted fists as they take a deep breath, squeezing their eyes shut.
‘You got this, Y/N. You got this!’ They whispered to themself.
Y/N slowly jogs towards the cashier, rolling their shoulders in preparation. They clear their throat, trying to think of a distracting conversation to start.
“Uh, hi! I, uh…heard there was this…beverage…snack that uh…just came out. And I was wondering uh, where…do you sell it here…? If you do sell it here… can you, uh…tell me…where you…sell it? Which is…here…?” Y/N asked, sheepishly. The cashier just kept his eyes glued to the phone as a short pause passed.
Real clever, Y/N.
“What? I have no idea what you mean, man.” The cashier said, not even bothering to look at them. Embarrassment and frustration began to bubble in Y/N’s chest as they quickly tried to think of another distraction. Looking towards Spot’s direction, they tried their best not to facepalm when they see him struggling with the ATM.
Y/N though that this plan was the most ridiculous! It was boring, slow-paced, and embarrassing! They glance back towards the cashier, partially relieved that he didn’t bother to look up. Looking around quickly, Y/N tries to distract the cashier again. They burst out into fake laughter.
“Hahahaha! Hahaha! Y-You’re so funny! You don’t…know what I mean! Hahaha! You’re a…funny guy!” They said, with the most ‘convincing’ laughs.
Y/N was not good at this.
They quickly stopped their laughing and tried to think of another diversion, clearing their throat again.
“Uh… w-what I mean is-“
“Hey, who left this ATM on the sidewalk?” Someone said outside.
Oh, shit.
Y/N heart began to quicken when the cashier finally looked up. They both turn towards the loud banging noise from the back of the store along with the frustrated grunts that came with it. The Spot was trying to forcefully push the whole ATM through the smaller portal by bouncing on top of it. Repeat, tried. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you fucking serious?!” They shouted.
“Yo, what you doing back here, man?” The cashier said, picking up a bat and surprisingly ignoring Y/N. (Which offended them.)
“Nothing, nothing. Everything’s cool, man. All good.” Spot said, jumping on top of the ATM to push it even further into the portal, “Just forgot my PIN number-“
“Get yourself out of here!”
The cashier tries to hit Spot with the bat, but thankfully he dodges it in time. On instinct, Y/N runs towards the cashier, balling their fists preparing to attack. The multicolored polka dots on their skin quickly began to glow along with their dot eyes.
Before quickly flickering off like a lightbulb.
Y/N looks at their hands, baffled by the failed attempt to use their powers.
“What?! No! Not now!” They shouted.
“Uh, Y/N a little help here!” Spot shouted, cowering away from the cashier’s swings. Y/N runs after the two trying to land a blow on the back of cashier’s head, only to end up slipping on a soda can and falling hard on their butt. On the ground, Y/N rolls their eyes when they hear Spot’s pathetic comments towards the aggressive man while he dropped different products from the isles.
“Sir, please just let us rob you!”
“There’s no reason to bring wood into this!”
“We’ve never robbed anybody in our life, please don’t make this a bad experience for us!”
“Bad experience? I’m trying to run a business here!” The angry cashier replied.
“With your goddamn head in the clouds?!” Y/N snarked at him, getting back on their feet.
Only to end up slipping and falling on their face.
“Why is the floor so slippery?!”
This was the duo’s very first robbery attempt. Obviously, Spot and Y/N didn’t have the best resources at hand when it came to being bad guys, but they were never the type of criminals to give up easily. Especially, Spot.
Y/N had a strong feeling that her partner in crime was a whole lot nervous than they were for their first robbery. Y/N was already fed up at the soft attempts of beginning their villainy, but can you blame them? They just wanted to get dangerous, kick some ass, and burn down buildings! But, the Spot was always there to dial them down.
Ever since the explosion incident that happened a year ago, the duo agreed to stick together and began to get ahold of their newfound cursed powers. They had pretty awesome powers too! I mean what could be better than having ability to make portals that can go to anywhere and anyplace you desire or summon glowing multicolored polka dots with omnipotent destructive powers?
There were a few gimmicks of their powers here and there, but to be honest, they could barely control it!
And now here the two were.
One running away from an angry cashier with a bat, while the other continues to slip and fall on the cluttered slippery floor with each step they take.
After the longest 23 seconds of their lives, Spot finally managed to trap the cashier in a nearby portal and Y/N finally gets up without slipping. Y/N helps Spot get his foot unstuck from one of the shelves. After the two quickly run towards the ATM, they place soda cans on the ground to push the large machine more easily.
“I told you this was a bad plan!” Y/N spat.
“Oh, yeah, that figures considering how much of a big help you were back there!” Spot spat back.
“Hey, the floor was already slippery before and if you weren’t such a klutz back there, I would’ve already handled him!” Y/N said.
“Well, what was I supposed to do?! Just sit there and let him hit me?!” Spot fired back.
“Hmm, I dunno maybe teleport him outta here! I’m sure it doesn’t take a genius!”
“Hey, I can’t think straight when I’m under pressure! You’ve known that since the day we met! Stop treating me like I’m a wuss!”
“That’s because you are one, when it comes to situations like this! Plus, my plan would’ve been a whole lot better!”
“Your plan was nuts!”
“I just said that we should walk into the store, knock out the cashier, time him up, lock him in the janitors closet, get the money, and get rid of the evidence by burning down the building!”
“With the cashier inside?!”
“…Yeah!”
“You are a very violent person and a bad sidekick.”
“What? I like violence! Plus, my powers are more cooler than yours so who the hell are you callin’ a sidekick?”
“Whatever, let’s just hurry up and get this ATM machine out of here before the police-“
“Why do people say ATM machine?” A voice said.
Spot and Y/N jolt up, looking around in surprise. “Huh? Who said that?” Spot asked.
The duo looked behind them and see Spider-man himself, hanging upside-down from the ceiling, casually eating a beef empanada. “The ‘M’ stands for ‘machines’!“ He finished.
“Spider-Man!” Spot and Y/N said in sync.
The duo felt the floor disappearing beneath their feet as they fell through an accidental portal, only to end up reappearing in the next isle, falling harshly from the ceiling to the floor. Spot and Y/N’s disguises only end up coming off during the fall, revealing their bare, pale, and spotted bodies.
The Spot only had black spots of different sizes covering his pale lanky body, his face being completely blank with only the largest black spot plastered across his face resembling a scribbled eye.
Y/N had multicolored polka dots covering their body, the bright colors contrasting from their light grayish skin. Their face is completely blank as well, with only two mismatched color dot eyes to show their expressions.
They groan in pain as Spot helps them up from the floor, nearly slipping again, but regains balance. They dust themself off as they look forward, seeing Spot jumping around in preparation as Spider-Man walks in front of them.
“Ah! Spider-Man, wow,” The Spot began, before he hit his foot against a box, yelping in pain, “This is real!”
Y/N tilts their head in exasperation at their partner’s action. “Johnathan, what are you-“
“Alright, Y/N, prepare your introduction.” He whispered back.
“My what?” Y/N whisper-shouted.
Spider-Man glances back and forth between the spotted duo, baffled, yet immersed by their bizarre and wacky appearance. “So are you like a cow or a dalmation?” He asked gesturing at Spot. He then glanced at Y/N and gestured at them, “And are you like supposed to be a clown or a painting?”
“I am…The Spot.”
Y/N looks at Spot with a, ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ face. “I’m sure that sounded a lot cooler in your mind.” They address. Spot just ignored them and stretched his arms out to them in a presenting manner.
“And this is my trusty sidekick…The Dot.”
“I never agreed to…never mind.” Y/N said.
Spot leans against the isles, propping his elbow on it, while placing his hand on his hip. Bread begins to spill out of the holes in his torso.
Y/N looks at him and quickly folds their arms leaning against the other side of the isle, nearly slipping in the process, trying to look cool and intimidating.
“We meet again, Spider-Man.” Spot began, ‘menacingly’.
“And we have a lot to catch up on.” Y/N finished, ‘menacingly’.
Spider-Man just laughs, pointing his empanada at the duo in an amused manner.
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cyberkitty1 · 11 months
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Hi can I ask for a miles 42 x telekinesis reader
Like she and miles got in an argument about how he hasn't been around and not making time for her at least
Miles knows she has powers
She knows he's the prowler
She gets mad and the objects in the room start flying around
She doesn't notice and keeps ranting to him about how he's shit and she slowly lifts herself from the ground
Still not noticing BC she's angry
Make the ending fluffy and cute
I tried, I got lazy because ive been getting similar asks with the same character so im trying!!!
“ So where have you been?” You say leaning against the doorway looking at Miles who came home at 2 am in the morning. You closed mouth smiles at you “ I’ve been out ma, you know.”
You sigh resting your face in your hands “ Miles no I don’t know, where have you been? You keep leaving early in the day and coming home next day at like 3 am!” Raising your voice a little.
“ Chill out I’m home right?” he says shrugging you off. “ No I’m not going to “chill out” how am i supposed to when i never see you. Why are you always gone?”
In the moment you are able to see what he’s thinking “ It might be time for me to tell her, shes getting suspicious.” You tense looking at him in his eyes, feeling like you could see his soul.
“ Time to tell me what? What are you hiding from me Miles” He sighs looking at the ceiling muttering “shoot.” So you do it again, if he’s not going to tell you, you will figure out on your own.
“I am The Prowler”
Those words in bald pounded though your brain. “ Why? why would you keep something this big from me? I told you about my powers yet you cant tell me that you are a gauntlet, mask wearing vigilante? or what are you?” He opens his mouth to say something. “No stop! stop talking! You’re telling me you have been lying to me this while time? how long have you been this” making hand motions everywhere.
“ Miles I have always been there for you since day 1! ok?! Day one! and now your going out killing people?!” everything in the room starts to shake. Miles looks around realizing what happening “ Please calm down, mal explicar todo.” (ill explain everything)
“No you cant just explain and everything’s all better! Miles this is the biggest lie you have ever told me? Do you know how i feel?” The tears start to fill your eyes, vision becoming blurry. Everything around you was floating even your hair. Miles was freaking out.
“Please please calm down ill explain everything” when those words left his mouth you felt your body get lighter.
“Miles there is nothing you need to explain! I get it; you are the prowler! Someone who kills people robs people and does it with no remorse! How could you keep something that big from me?!”
You were about 1 foot above the ground when you finally realized, am I in the air? Everything around us is in the air. You see the fear in his eyes, maybe you do need to calm down.
Taking a deep breath you release everything including yourself, you take a deep breath eyes closed. “ Im going to give you 10 minutes to tell me”.
“ Desde que murió mi padre, mi madre ha estado trabajando turnos extra, llegando a casa cansada y sin energía. No podía soportar verla así. ella es mi mamá, me ama pase lo que pase!”
(Ever since my father died, my mother has been working extra shifts, coming home tired and drained. He couldn't bear to see her like this. she is my mom, she loves me no matter what!)
“El tío Aaron consiguió un trabajo en el que pudo dejarme participar para que pudiera obtener más dinero para ella.”
(Uncle Aaron got a job that he was able to let me participate in so he could get more money for her.)
“Hice algunos y obtuve mucho dinero, pero cuando traté de retirarme, no me dejaron. Si me iba, te matarían a ti y a todos los que amaba. No puedo perderte.”
(I made a few and got a lot of money, but when I tried to withdraw, they wouldn't let me. If I left, they would kill you and everyone I loved. I can not lose you.)
You just looked at him taking in everything, you overreacted most definitely. “ why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you” “ No it was easier that you didn’t know i didn’t want you to worry mi vida.”
He continues to explain his troubles to you, telling you what he’s been thinking when he pauses.
“Sabes que te amaré siempre ¿verdad? Todo lo que quiero es que estés segura”
(You know that I will always love you, right? All I want is for you to be safe)
“ I know Miles and I thank you for everything you do for me”. You say kissing him on the forehead.
“ And I love you so much” you look at him with the most loving eyes you could muster.
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A/n: Guys I think i’m going to finish my last 1-3 requests about earth42! Miles Morales and not take anymore for a while because I feel they are getting repetitive and I don’t want you guys to get bored of what i’m writing so if you would like to request other characters i would love that so much!!!
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sapphosclosefriend · 5 months
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I'm the biggest sub in the world but sometimes the thought of choking Nat while riding her sounds a little too fun 😣
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vespers-night-sky · 5 months
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I need a fanfic or something where you get to be with both Gideon and Julie, and like they’re both evil and they want to take over the world and stuff and you’re just all like “Yeah I’m evil too! Check it, I just took this GUM from WALMART and I DIDN’T PAY FOR IT” and they’re just like “Amazing. Beautiful.”
Gideon comes back from work having stalked all the peopleses or whatever the heck he does all day, and you run up to him and give him a picture you’ve just drawn of you, Gideon, and Julie all holding hands in front of the company building thing, all drawn in crayon or something, with an arrow pointed at the crudely drawn trio saying ‘just committed tax evasion! :D’
Gideon probably cries or something, it’s great.
Julie is like a combination of ‘No one messes with them but me’ and that one meme thing where it’s like ‘Heh, that idiot is jumping off the bungee swing. nO WAIT THAT’S MY IDIOT-’
She’s just super protective and stuff of both you and Gideon, and watching her steer the both of you is like watching someone herd cats.
I need this so badly, you don’t even know. I want some nice hugs from the both of the evil, messed up, adorable couple.
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