#I am small and vicious

[dirt-goth]

Just started crying in the gym parking lot and I'm trying to turn it into gains motivation

[acourtofquestions]

Y’all, I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder cause imma be honest EoS is doing something to my brain and I miss Chaol😅😂😭🤣

[thesecondface]

well, I spent the whole conference hiding. truly I have done a fantastic job of diving into aisles, marching purposefully with no destination, and finding dark corridors to skulk around in, in avoidance of the masses. shrivelling and withering.

[pinkanonhopes]

feeling a bit sad. but theres hope. i have to hope. theres nothing else sometimes.

[anantaru]

you say he's too small — love and deepspace

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

warnings. fem! reader, brat taming, dirty talk, rough syx, big dicks, they took it personal, petnames used: darling, sweetheart, princess, brat, pretty girl

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne

not the reaction you've expected yet zayne laughs like you've straight up offended him— a low, vicious sound dragging through the lengths of his throat as his hands dig into your flesh, dragging you down on his cock until your breathing was caught sharp in your throat.

"you wanna run your mouth, pretty girl?" his voice sinks low, dragging through the heat between you like smoke, his gaze glinting with something cruel and sweet, "then take all of it, come on, take every inch."

he grabs your ass with roughened palms, pulling you flush against him as he fucks into you with a brutal snap of his hips, "really, so small?" he spits, "you really wanna lie like that when you're leaking down your thighs?" as he starts pounding into you like he's trying to prove a point, thrust until your slick walls take his shape, pulse around him like he's the only thing you've ever known as each thrust felt heavier than the last— utterly thick and brutal rubbing on your walls, so deep it made your eyes roll back.

"can't even handle me," he growls, "you keep trying to squirm away— where's all that bratty shit show now?" you're crying from overstimulation, in fact, everything was just way too hot and too wet, your ass tingling where his hands kept slapping it, squeezing and holding you into place.

"darling," he pants, "you said it, yeah? now you take it," and zayne doesn't stop, not until he's spilling into you with a broken groan, pressing down so you cannot move an inch, grinding through the aftershocks just to make sure it sticks.

"that feel small?" he exhales through his teeth, something like a laugh dying in his throat as he sinks deeper into your warmth, "cause you'll be leaking for me for hours."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier

"...what did you just say?" confusion draws over xavier's facial features as his voice drops into a tone that doesn't even sound human anymore— turning quite disbelieving as his pupils blow wide, staring at you like he might devour you whole.

"you're really gonna say i'm small in the middle of it?" to tease him a little further, you decide to utter it once more, just to see what he'll do and fuck— he snaps, rightfully so as he grabs your thighs, spreads you open with both hands, wide enough that it burns, so you can see the outline of him as he slides back in, "does that feel small?" he snarls, voice thick with possession and something even worse— the urgency to prove you wrong.

"look at your pussy, baby, swallowing me like it's starving— look how fucking deep i am," and you do look as it ruins you, the way he stretches you, the fat base of his cock dragging against something so sensitive it made your stomach seize up, the wet squelch of your cunt fluttering around every inch he buries inside.

he draws back just enough to look, eyes gleaming like he's studying something rare and irreplaceable as his palm snaps sharp against your inner thigh, not out of rage but precision— a sound so wet and filthy it bloomed between you as he watches the recoil with a kind of cold interest that bordered on worship.

"don't lie, you're dripping, look, and i've barely even started moving," as he turns his head down and spits— right where you're joined, thumb smearing the globule of saliva into your clit and mixing it up with the filthy mess, like he wanted to make you see how wrong you were.

"i'll ruin you slow," xavier promises, voice husky, "fuck you until you can't sit without thinking of me, if this is small—" he thrusts deep and laughs, your vision whitening out, "—then you better pray i never really stretch you open."

your nails dig into his back like you're trying to anchor yourself to reality, in fact, to him, to anything, really— because you see, the way he fits inside you was devastating, your stomach coiling and wracked with the agony of being sprawled too rough, his cum thick and endlessly coming in white, warm ribbons as he groans with sin and need, as if your bodies were made only to drown together.

your breath catches onto every gasp as if even the air has become too much for you to endure, your hips stuttering and grinding without meaning, most importantly without will, just chasing the friction that made you feel alive as his cock was the only thing grounding you towards your pleasure.

a fractured hiss slips from him, the sound of a man too far gone as his jaw clenched, eyes wild, like your cunt was some divine punishment and he was utterly grateful to be ruined by it, "that's right, feel how big i really am, sweetheart."

"say it," xavier hisses like he's savoring it, like he wanted you to hear the desperation in his lungs, "say i'm not small— say you love how i fill you up," and you do, because it's true, correct? every single inch of you was wrecked by now, opened up around his cock like you were made to stay there.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel

"oh?" rafayel gives you an intrigued look, his eyes flicking to where you're spread wide for him, all flushed and aching and already gushing around his cock yet spelling out something so laughable, "small?" you don't get the chance to respond before he pushes in with one fast snap of hips— rougher than he had any right to go as he smiles when your legs begin to shake immediately.

"funny," he hums, "considering the way you're clenching down on me like you cannot let go," he stops mid thrust when you whisper it once more, his cock stilled inside within a long pause as you can hear the tick of his jaw when he exhales.

he leans over you now, hand palming your breasts hard enough to make you gasp out into his mouth, "but you're trembling," he drawls underneath his exhale with his jaw locked, like the feel of your walls tensing around him was too much— like it was destructive on him of how tight you were, how greedy and how bratty you were to him yet rafayel still wanted more.

the man watches you like he's analyzing a painting, "you seem to struggle from something so small?"

"you feel that, no?" he growls, hips grinding in slow, devastating circles, "that's me stretching you out, filling every fucking inch— claiming you, so tell me again, come on, who's too small?"

at this point, you cannot even form the simplest of words, drooling down your own chin as your cunt was squelching and twisting around him loud enough to echo within your bedroom as he just grins filthily.

"that's what i thought," rafayel whispers, his tongue moves in slick circles over your tits, voice low like a secret carved out of sin as if he's telling your body what he's going to do without ever asking, like your entire soul was already promised to him, "you're gonna keep me inside for hours, sweetheart, i'll keep cumming until your body knows the shape of me."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus

what got sylus the most was the way you've said it to him— quite soft yet smug, with a saccharine coated pout like you're honestly disappointed in his ability to pleasure you.

what else was he supposed to do other than still himself inside you in shock, the deafening silence that followed next not really being silence, because in reality the atmosphere was charged— you could compare it to an animatic stillness as his grip on your wrists were slowly tightening just enough to make you shiver under him, "you know what you just said?" his voice echoes softly against your cheek, too soft, in fact, as if he was trying the words out on his tongue like a wine he's about to spit out.

the laugh he lets out next was the last warning you'll get, because sylus doesn't say anything else— he just grabs both of your ankles and folds you in half, hips snapping forward with a brutal slam that punches the breath straight out of your chest.

"so small?" he grits, voice breaking into something high and ragged, hips jerking as he fucks you into the mattress like he's attempting to fuck the thought straight out of your darling skull, "you're creaming all over me like you need it, and you've got the nerve to lie like that?"

your tits bounce from the force of his hips, and of course, of course, his hands are all over them, squeezing and pinching your nipples, spreading the mounds of flesh as if trying to claim every inch he's obsessed over as he leans in, biting down just under your nipple, growling, "gonna call me small when you can't even take all of me?"

"all this mess, and you still wanna lie?" and you feel it— the tension between your legs, the burning stretch and your swollen folds, how slick your pussy sounded every time he slams himself back in, every twitch of his thickness dragging against your soaked walls, your body straining and holding, straining and holding, the sheer pressure of him inside you enough to make your vision go halo, like you're being reshaped from the inside out into something that belonged to him.

alas, you put a mental sticker inside your head to never lie to sylus again— you simply can't, in fact, you're already crying from the rough pace he's going for, shaking so bad he has to hold you in place by your wrists just to keep going.

you feel him add additional grinds on your pussy whenever you swallowed him whole, his tip pinching against your sweet spot every time he sinks too deep— like he's reshaping your frame, like your body was always meant to swell around the size of him.

you sob out his name while being stuffed full, thighs shaking from the pressure as he bears down on you, a rhythm built from slow destruction, the pressure inside you mounting as your belly contracts tight, your cunt milking him raw and seizing from how thick and hard he moves and shoves his hips, "there, there's your truth, not so small now, am i?"

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb

caleb pauses, his brain rewiring and blinking down at you in complete disbelief, "you really think that's funny?" he asks you earnestly mid thrust, like he didn't just bottom out and leave you totally whiny underneath his broad figure.

you nod devilishly, lips curled up into a smug little grin when, well, that's what does it, really— with that he leans into you like a challenge, tucking a hand behind your head with his fingers tangled tight in your hair, fucking through the tightness of your hole, all the way until you choke up his name, your smirk suddenly crumbling.

caleb kisses the corner of your tear stricken eye, his ragged breathing warm against your cheek as he coos, "not so small now, huh? it's like your body knows who it belongs to."

the man only just begun and doesn't think your thighs shaking around his waist was enough for you to understand to never say that again, not when your mouth falls open with a strangled moan of his name, not when you attempt to whine that it's too much when he just shushes you sweetly with his soft lips.

"hm, i forgot i'm dating a comedic," he says it like it hurts him and for a second, you see it flicker in his eyes, real heartbreak, or just feigned innocence? before his gaze twists into something dark, near devotional, "princess, oh princess," he coos, grabbing your face in both hands and fucking into you slow and tender like he's trying to reach your heart from underneath, "no, you don't mean that, you're just being cruel, aren't you? just trying to get me to break?"

his cock pulses deep inside you, thick and dragging over every trembling ridge of your cunt as your toes curl and your legs kick just a little, involuntary from the stretch, "you feel that, baby? you feel how your pussy's milking me already? tell me— does something small make your breath hitch like that?"

to caleb, there was nothing more mesmerizing than hearing your voice falling apart, adoring it whenever he's making you taste the consequences of every bratty little lie you've told him, "oh, you're perfect, you're so damn tight i can feel everything, you're gonna take it all for me, every inch, yeah? and then i'll ask if you still think it's small, okay?"

your whines come out in shattered bursts, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, mind fraying at the edges from the slow, relentless drags of his thick cock grazing at your walls, in fact, you're shaking under him as he plays with your body, brain emptied by the way he keeps filling you up.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[mohammedaldeeb]

A Humanitarian Appeal from the Depths of Suffering🥹:

The War on Gaza, Our Losses, and the Struggles We Endure

In these difficult and painful times😔, I find it hard to find words that truly express the depth of the suffering I, 💔😓

along with my family, am going through. I am writing this message from a place of desperation and need, as a doctor working in a hospital in Gaza. Life here has become a constant battle for survival, and each day brings new challenges that test our will to continue😭.

We were once living a peaceful and stable life🙂, building our hopes and dreams😥, working towards a future for ourselves and our loved ones🥺.

However, the recent war on Gaza has turned our world upside down😢. I have lost my job💔,

and with it, my only source of income, due to the destruction of the facilities where I worked😭.

The physical destruction around us has been devastating😓, and many projects I was involved in to support the families of patients have come to a halt😢. The economic losses are staggering, and the road to recovery seems almost impossible😥.

The war on Gaza has not only taken our peace of mind but has also brought with it an unbearable level of suffering😓.

The cost of living has skyrocketed,

and we are struggling to meet even the most basic needs of daily life😣.

The situation has become unbearable, and it feels like we’re trapped in a vicious cycle of poverty, fear, and despair.

How can a family survive when they cannot even afford food, let alone the necessities of life?😭😥💔

As a doctor, I stand at the frontline, trying to save lives amidst the wreckage of war😢.

I treat the injured, manage critical cases, and do my best to bring comfort to those who need it most. 🥹

However, at the same time, I face personal struggles that are just as overwhelming😢. The hospital is in dire need of medical supplies and personnel, and we are doing all we can to save lives with limited resources. But the pain of seeing my own family suffering while I try to help others is a constant burden.

How can I help those in need when I cannot even provide for my loved ones?😣😣

Today, as I face this immense struggle😔,

I turn to you, dear reader, with a plea for help🙏🏻😥.

This is not just a request for personal assistance🙏🏻🥹, but a desperate call for hope and a chance to rebuild my life and support my family.

I need your help to share my story😓, so that it reaches as many people as possible.

Your support, through donations and sharing this story, will allow me to help my family escape the horrors of war and start a new life abroad, where we can live in safety and dignity🙏🏻🥹❤️.

I need the resources to travel abroad to continue my education l😔and provide a future for my family🙏🏻😓. Pursuing my studies and advancing my career in medicine is my way of ensuring that I can make a lasting difference, both for myself and for the people of Gaza. But I cannot do this alone.

The funds I am seeking will help me cover travel expenses, medical costs for my family, and the basic needs that we are struggling to meet each day😥.

The financial burden is overwhelming😭,

and without your support, I fear that my dreams, and the future of my family, will slip further out of reach😥😭💔.

Every donation, no matter how small, will make a difference.

Every act of kindness, every person who shares this message, will help light the way for us in this dark time🙏🏻😢.

I humbly ask you to help me spread this story. Share this story with your friends, family, and networks. Let it reach those who have the means and the will to help🥹🥺❤️.

Together, we can make a difference. Your kindness, your generosity, and your willingness to stand by us will mean the world💝🥹🙏🏻.

In these dark times, solidarity is the light that can guide us😔💔. Your support is not just an act of charity; it is an act of humanity❤️❤️.

You are not only helping an individual, but you are also supporting a family in dire need of hope and a better future😃❤️.

I will forever be grateful for any assistance you can provide, whether it’s a financial contribution, sharing this story, or offering a kind word of encouragement.

Your help will give us the strength to continue, and it will remind us that in the midst of all this suffering, there is still hope, there is still kindness, and there are still people who care😃❤️.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart❤️❤️, for your time, your attention, and your compassion.

Together, we can create a future where we can live with dignity, rebuild what has been lost😔, and give our children the hope they deserve💝🥹🙏🏻.

Solidarity is Hope, and Helping is Life����❤️💛🖤🇵🇸 .

vetted by \

@90-ghost (number 212)

@mangocheesecakes ,

@sayruq

@el-shab-hussein

@nabulsi

[r66dusthewriter]

How well do Y/n Y/l/n & Drew Starkey know each other? | Variety

Paring: Drew Starkey x reader

Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1k

You settled into the chair besides Drew, both of you holding up small whiteboards and markers, the familiar hum of set lights warming the space around you. He leaned back slightly, stretching his legs out, already grinning in anticipation.

“This could be the end of our friendship as we know it” you said, voice light but laced with mock dread.

Drew’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide in faux alarm. Then he burst into laughter, the sound spilling over into the crew, who chuckled from behind the cameras.

 “What do you mean? We’ll be fine!” he insisted, shaking his head like you were being dramatic.

You glanced over at him, feigning concern. “We might not be”

“We will.” he said “I know where you live, that’s good enough for the general public.”

You laughed, the warmth of it hanging in the air between you as the interviewer’s voice called everyone to attention. “What year did you both first meet?”

Without hesitation, you both dropped your gazes to the whiteboard, the scratch of a marker against the surface filling the quiet moment. A beat later, you flipped them toward the camera in perfect sync.

2019

Matching answers and matching smiles. From the corner of your eye, you caught Drew turning his head just slightly toward you, the corners of his mouth tugged upward.

“Told you we’d be fine” Drew murmured under his breath, eyeing the matching year scrawled on your whiteboard. 

You smiled, still looking at your board. “We met at the offices where, um…the Outerbanks producers were holding auditions–”

“Yeah, in North Carolina,” Drew added, nodding.

“Yeah” you said, glancing toward the camera as you explained. “I was going in for a chemistry read with Rudy…Rudy Pankow, who plays JJ on the show and you were there with Chase. So for a solid second I thought you’d be JJ. That same afternoon, we ended up doing a last-minute chemistry read”

“And here we are” he said, flashing a smile.

“Besties for life,” you added with a nod.

Drew’s eyes met yours, a quiet pause stretching just long enough to say something unspoken. “Besties?” His brow lifted slightly in that way he always did when he was about to argue but instead, the two of you broke into laughter for seemingly no apparent reason.

“Who’s most likely to stay in character when the cameras aren’t rolling?” the interviewer asked once the giggles faded.

You paused for a second, weighing your answer. Beside you, Drew was already scribbling on his whiteboard, a knowing smile creeping onto his face.

“I put you” he said, holding it up proudly “Just cause…you and your character are basically two sides of the same coin. You’re witty, you’ve got that sharp timing…plus you’re a smartass in real life too” he added with a laugh.

You flipped your board around at the same time, revealing your own name written across it.

Drew leaned back, triumphant. “See? Even you know it. The amount of times I've broken character just because I'm too stunned by the stuff you come up with–it’s wild, and I thought I'd be used to it by now” he said, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe it.

You laughed “The problem is that we’re both shocked. I say something, you crack, then I crack because you cracked. It’s a vicious cycle”

Filming with someone who knew you inside and out was both a blessing and a challenge. Spending ten hours a day on set with your best friend meant constant laughter, stolen glances and inside jokes but it also meant holding back just enough to stay professional…or at least try to.

Drew gave you a sideways look, eyes gleaming “Yeah. Professionalism. Because we’ve always been so good at that”

You snorted, already shaking your head “We try”

The crew laughed behind the camera, clearly amused by this dynamic. The blend of effortless banter and the unmistakable kind of closeness that could only come from years of working and growing together.

“Who’s most likely to listen to music on set?” the interviewer asked, grinning as you and Drew immediately burst into giggles, already scribbling down your answers.

“Wait, we have to tell the story” Drew said, laughing before you even flipped your board.

At the same time, you both turned them around to reveal identical answers as you both burst into more giggles.

Both.

“Are you gonna tell it or–” you struggled saying as you laughed through teary eyes.

“No, no, no, you go.” Drew said, pointing at you through his laughter. “It was your trailer”

You shot back without missing a beat “And It was your speaker” you turned to the camera, trying to keep a straight face. “Anyway, having the same call time to set was a mistake.”

“A big one” Drew chimed in, leaning forward like he was letting the audience in on a secret.

“We were in my trailer, just waiting to be called to set” you began, already laughing at the memory. “And this one was way too excited about his new speaker… so we put on some music, just vibing, singing along…” You paused, trying to collect yourself “What we didn’t know was that his walkie was on.”

“Like, fully on. Broadcasting” Drew added.

“We sang through three whole songs,” you said, eyes wide. “And nobody came to stop us. Not one person. Fifteen minutes go by, we walk onto set and everyone just erupts. Laughing, clapping…we had no idea what was going on” 

“It was awful” Drew groaned, covering his face.

“So embarrassing” you said, shaking your head. “Thank the stars we weren’t talking about something else”

Drew shot you a mischievous look, that familiar spark lighting up his face “Like that time–”

“Alrighty!” you cut in, sitting up straight and turning to the interviewer “Next question, please!”

The whole room broke into laughter, the crew chuckling behind the cameras, the interviewer nearly losing her place in the notes. As you both wiped down your whiteboard, Drew leaned in and nudged you with his elbow, voice low and laced with mock betrayal.

“I wasn’t gonna tell it, you know? I would never expose our ‘friendship’ like that”

You didn’t look up as you replied coolly “Expect an NDA in the next few days”

Drew snorted, nearly dropping his marker “Better make it retroactive”

[rizzanon]

.

m.list | prev | next

The door slammed open so hard it reverberated through the sterile hospital room. Bruce didn’t flinch. He barely blinked. He just sat there, slumped in the hard plastic chair, his hand resting on yours—cold and lifeless beneath his touch.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

Bruce didn’t answer, didn’t lift his head.

“Bruce.”

Nothing.

The last fraying thread snapped. The figure crossed the room in a hearbeat, and the next thing Bruce registered was a fist colliding with his jaw.

Crack.

Bruce hit the ground with a heavy thud, his head snapping to the side as the impact split his lip and bruised the skin around his cheekbone. He didn’t move to defend himself, didn’t even try to stand. He just lay there on the cold tile, blood pooling in his mouth, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue.

He deserved this.

“Get up,” Jason spat, towering over him. His chest rose and fell like a man drowning in rage. “Get the fuck up!”

Bruce pushed himself into a seated position, back against the chair he’d fallen from. Slowly, he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Jason…”

“What the hell happened? Tell me, Bruce. Tell me why—“ Jason’s voice shook as he gestured wildly toward your body. You, lying there on the hospital bed, covered with a sheet up to your chest. Still. Too still.

“Tell me why the hell am I looking at her like this?!”

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, his own voice hoarse, like gravel scraping against stone. “She went after a drug ring. Alone.”

Jason froze. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his eyes blazing. “What?”

Bruce hands dropped into his lap, empty and useless. “She tracked them down herself. She found out where they were moving shipments. I don’t know when she left—by the time I realized, it was already too late. She—“

“And you let her??!” Jason’s shout rang through the small room, loud enough that the walls almost shook. He pointed at Bruce, his hand trembling. “You let her go after them?! Alone?!”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Jason’s voice cracked, raw and vicious. He let out a bitter, humourless laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, Bruce? You’re BATMAN. You’re supposed to KNOW when this kind of shit is about to go down!”

Bruce finally lifted his gaze to Jason, his face haggard, the bruising around his jaw already deepening. “She didn’t tell me, Jason,” he repeated quietly, like the words were an admission of failure. “She went on her own.”

Jason’s fists clenched at his sides, knucles white. “You should’ve known she’d do this! You should’ve stopped her! You’re supposed to keep her safe—that was your job!”

Jason’s voice cracked again on the last word, and Bruce couldn’t meet his eyes.

“She made her choice.”

“Bullshit!” Jason snarled, stepping forward like he might hit him again.

He should, he thinks.

“She shouldn’t have had to make that choice. She wouldn’t have done it if she thought she didn’t have to. She—“ Jason’s voice faltered for the first time, his fury cracking around the edges, breaking apart into something more brittle. He turned his head sharply toward your still form, his chest heaving.

Jason’s voice dropped, quiet and shaking. “She’s dead.”

The words hung in the air, terrible and final.

You were dead.

His sister was dead.

Jason let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through his hair. He turned toward the wall, his vision blurring, the tight knot in his chest turning into something he couldn’t contain. Before he knew it, his fist collided with the drywall, the sound loud and violent as it split under the force.

“Goddamnit!” Jason’s voice broke, raw and thick, the cracks in the wall mirroring the fractures in his heart. His chest heaved, his legs suddenly feeling too weak to hold him. He stumbled back a step, then two, before his knees hit the ground.

Bruce didn’t move.

Jason leaned back against the cracked wall, his forehead dropping against his knees as he struggled to breathe through the sickening weight pressing down on him. His voice was barely audible now, a broken rasp.

“She’s dead,” he whispered again, like saying it out loud would make it easier to believe. “Damnit, Bruce, she’s gone. She’s gone.”

He was furious at Bruce. For allowing this to happen. First him, then Alfred, and now… you.

He was furious at himself. If he’d just been there…. If he hadn’t stayed away like a selfish coward, like he thought pushing you away would protect you, like he thought pushing you away would make you drop the mantle, maybe—maybe—this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you wouldn’t be lying there, cold and lifeless.

“Goddamnit,” Jason choked out, his fingers gripping his hair as he tried to keep himself from shattering completely. “I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve been there.”

Bruce, still on the floor across from him, watched Jason quietly. His voice, when it came, was low and rough. “I promised myself I wouldn’t fail her.”

Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes red-rimmed, furious. “You did. You failed her.”

He bowed his head down, and gritted his teeth. “….And I did too.”

With that, Jason fell silent. He stayed there, crumpled on the floor, staring at your lifeless form as the weight of it all—your death, Bruce’s failure, his own failure, his regrets—settled over him like a suffocating shroud.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason didn’t know how to pick himself back up.

The night was deceptively calm, a quiet blanket over Gotham that felt almost serene. But Dick’s heart was anything but that. It hammered in his chest like a war drum, each beat fueling the storm that raged inside him. In the shadowed alleys and dimly lit streets, he moved like a storm, tearing through the remnants of the drug ring that belied the peaceful night.

Every punch, every kick was driven by something deeper—something raw and consuming. His movements were precise, brutal, and unrelenting, each strike a wordless scream of anguish. This wasn’t just justice. It wasn’t even revenge.

This was the drug ring you had been chasing. The one responsible for your death.

And Dick wasn’t stopping until they felt the full weight of what they had taken from him.

One of the thugs came at him with a crowbar, swinging wildly. Dick ducked low, his movements precise, and drove his elbow into the man's ribs. The thug stumbled, wheezing, but before he could recover, Dick caught him with a roundhouse kick to the temple. He went down hard, blood streaking his face.

Another rushed him from behind, but Dick anticipated it, pivoting sharply and catching the man's wrist mid-swing. He wrenched it back with brutal efficiency, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. The man screamed, but Dick silenced him with a punch to the throat, sending him crumpling to the ground.

A third lunged at him with a knife, slashing at his chest. Dick sidestepped, grabbed the thug by the wrist, and twisted hard enough to disarm him. The blade clattered to the ground as Dick's fist connected with his jaw, snapping the thug's head back. He didn't let up, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Where are the rest of you?” Dick snarled, his voice venomous. The man whimpered, struggling against his grip, but before he could answer, another figure charged at Dick.

This one didn't even make it close. Dick spun, releasing the man he'd been holding and delivering a brutal flying knee to the newcomer's chest. The thug crumpled on impact, choking and gasping for air. The alley was littered with bodies-groaning, bloodied, broken.

But it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

Dick's eyes locked on the last thug, the one who'd been cowering in the shadows, trying to make a quiet escape. His boots crunched on the asphalt as he closed the distance, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. The man froze, wide-eyed, as Dick grabbed him by the front of his jacket and slammed him against the wall.

“Where's the rest of your crew?” Dick growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“I-I don't—“

The man's excuse was cut off as Dick slammed him against the wall again, harder this time.

“Don't lie to me,” Dick hissed, his grip tightening. His knuckles were already sore and bloodied, but he barely noticed.

“Where are they?”

The thug whimpered, trembling under Dick's glare. “Warehouse... on 14th... Please, man, I'm just—”

“Shut up.” Dick's voice was ice, his eyes dark with fury. He raised his fist, ready to deliver another blow, but a voice crackled in his ear, sharp and commanding.

“Nightwing!”

Dick froze, his fist hovering in the air.

“Dick, that's enough!” Barbara's voice was firm, but there was a crack in it—a tremor that cut through the haze of rage clouding his mind. “They're down. He's down. You've got what you need.”

For a moment, Dick didn't move, his chest heaving, his fist still trembling in the air. Then, slowly, he let the man drop. The thug collapsed to the ground, coughing and clutching his chest, too terrified to move. Dick turned away, his hands shaking as he secured the thugs with cuffs. He didn't bother calling it in to the GCPD. He just fired his grappling hook and ascended to the nearest rooftop, the wind whipping at his face as the adrenaline began to fade.

And then the guilt hit.

The rooftop was silent save for the distant hum of Gotham below. Dick leaned heavily against the ledge, staring down at the city that had taken so much from him. He pressed two fingers to his comm.

“Oracle,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You there?”

“I'm here.”

There was a beat of silence before Dick spoke again, his voice trembling. “I should've been there, Babs. I should've been there for her.”

Barbara's breath hitched over the comm. “Dick—”

“I was supposed to protect her.” The words came out sharp, biting, the anguish behind them bleeding through. “I'm her big brother, Barbara. I'm supposed to protect my family. Protect her.” His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms hard enough to break skin. “But I wasn't there. I wasn't there, and now, she's...” His voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat.

Barbara's voice was soft but steady. “You couldn't have known, Dick. You were-”

“Don't,” he snapped, his anger flaring again. “Don't tell me I couldn't have known. I should have known. I should've been paying attention. I was in Bludhaven, dealing with lowlifes while she was...” He trailed off, his chest heaving as he struggled to find the words.

“She was dying, Babs,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I wasn't there. (Name) is dead.”

Barbara was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was laced with pain. “You're not the only one who feels this, Dick. Don't act like you're the only one who lost her.”

Dick let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You don't get it—”

“Don't I?” Barbara's voice cracked, sharp and raw.

Dick froze, his breath catching.

“She died as Batgirl,” Barbara said, her tone trembling with emotion. “She died wearing my mantle. Do you think I don't blame myself for that? Do you think I don't feel like it's my fault she's gone?”

Dick turned, guilt twisting in his gut as he heard the crack in her voice.

“She was under my guidance,” Barbara continued, her voice rising. “She was wearing my symbol. That's on me, Dick. Just like how you thought Jason’s death was on you.”

Dick flinched at the name, his chest tightening painfully. That was a low blow. A low moment in his life in which he didn’t want to go through again. But here he was—

“So don't you dare think for a second that I don't understand,” Barbara said, her voice breaking now. “Because I do. I know exactly how this feels for you. Every second of each day, I feel it. And it’s killing me inside.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Finally, Dick spoke, his voice barely audible. “I can't lose another one of us, Babs. I can't. Jason came back, but she...” His voice cracked again. “(Name)’s not coming back.”

Barbara's voice softened, though her pain was still evident. “I know.”

Dick closed his eyes, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a physical force. “This is my fault, Babs” he admitted, his voice trembling.

“Not just yours… mine as well,” Barbara replied, her voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence between them heavy with shared grief.

there was too much fluff (mlb asks + uf trio asks) posted tdy, i needed to balance it out 🥰🫶 i love it when dick goes feral in the comics lol (its hot)

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[singmyaubade]

the greatest heist

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy

a/n: my bad for taking so long.. enjoy & as always, i apologize if you hate this!

part 1 | part 2

SITTING in the Hospital Wing for the rest of your glamorous night was certainly not on your bucket list for the year.

You couldn't believe that while your friends were most likely on their next shot of Firewhiskey, there you were, sitting with an ice pack on your ankle and a yellow, now turning purple, bruise resting below it.

The scowl on your face couldn’t be more defined before a gentle squeeze on your forearm snapped you out of your angered thoughts.

A sweet, warm James sat beside you, his comforting smile as kind as ever. You gave him a shy smile in return, reluctant to admit that his presence made you feel just a little bit better.

"You know, you don’t have to stay here," You said, voice soft but sincere. "You don’t have to stay out of pity for me while the rest of our friends are probably on their fourth round of Truth or Dare." You snorted, trying to make light of it.

James lightly laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I wanna be here," He replied sweetly, making your heart swell despite yourself. "I mean, I am partly to blame for your injury."

You snickered, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, your vicious twirling of me is definitely what did it."

He yawned dramatically. "Yeah, I’m so strong," He flexed one arm with exaggerated pride, earning a laugh from you as you playfully swatted at him.

"Well, dearie!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, appearing suddenly from the patient beside you. "It seems it’s just a deep bruise—nothing a bit of Bruisewart Balm won’t fix," She stated, handing you the small jar of balm. "I’d recommend taking it easy on your feet for a day or two, but nothing too strenuous."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," You smiled as she nodded and moved on to her next patient.

"And to prevent more bruising," Pomfrey added with a sly smile, "I’d recommend staying away from Mr. Potter over here."

James frowned. "Oh Pops, how you wound me!" He said dramatically, making Pomfrey roll her eyes and walk away.

The tension in the room lifted, but as James turned back to you, the air between you two shifted. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how the dim light of the Hospital Wing made them look even more intense. You felt your heart race in your chest as he cleared his throat.

"Well, it seems like you won’t need to stay overnight," James said, a little too casually, his voice softer than usual. "May I help you hop back to your dorm m'lady?" His hand extended out for you.

You blinked at him, a little surprised at his suggestion. "What a gentleman," You mocked, though your voice was lighthearted as he helped you carefully get to your feet, his hand steady at your waist and the small of your back.

You both started down the hallway, his support a comforting presence as you tried to regain your balance on your injured ankle.

"You know Emma’s going to kill me, right?" You said with a dry chuckle.

James huffed in response, his arm still around you. "She’s really not as deadly as you all make her out to be," he said lightly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I think there’s a reason all the girls in sixth year have stayed away from you, and it isn’t because of your looks or personality."

James laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment in his eyes. "Well, she’s just really protective, you know?" He helped you adjust your step as you hopped slightly, trying to stay balanced. "She cares about me."

You raised an eyebrow. 'Protective doesn’t mean bat-shit crazy,' You thought to yourself.

"But I am sorry for how she’s been treating you," James continued, his voice turning a little more serious. "We broke up over it, you know?"

You didn’t know how to respond. You’d heard they’d had a fight, but you hadn’t realized it had escalated to that point.

"Over me?" you asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah," He nodded, his voice almost sheepish. "I know we haven’t talked much in the last couple of years, but you’ve always meant a lot to me, you know? So, when she gave me that choice—you or her—I thought it was a load of bollocks, but in the end, I think it was what we both needed. To take a step back, I mean."

You felt your stomach twist at his words. You knew their relationship had always been complicated, but hearing it from him like this was not what you had expected.

"And how did she take that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

James’s face softened, but there was a faint trace of sadness in his expression. "She yelled. Cursed me out for a bit, slammed the door, and I haven’t seen her since."

You nodded, processing his words. You hoped to feel happy and to be excited, but you only felt sadness for James. Despite your dislike for Emma, he had seemed to actually enjoy her presence.

And all you ever wanted for James was for him to be happy even if it meant the literal Anti-christ being his girlfriend.

"Well," You said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."

James looked over at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thanks."

The silence stretched between you two as you hobbled along the corridor. You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and something about it made your heart beat a little faster.

"Can I ask you something?" You ventured, glancing up at him.

"Anything," James replied, his voice sincere.

"Why didn’t you ever... you know, talk to me about this before? You’ve been kind of distant, and—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

James gave a small, rueful chuckle. "Guess I was just stupid, huh?" He looked over at you, his expression thoughtful. "I always figured things would work themselves out, and we would get closer in the future. But maybe I was wrong or just scared of Emma." He lightly laughed.

You didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet for a moment, your mind racing. The conversation felt like it was drifting toward a place you weren’t sure you were ready for, but at the same time, a part of you felt like you needed the conversation.

As you approached the Gryffindor Tower entrance, you could see the Fat Lady’s portrait in the distance, and the familiar weight of the evening was starting to settle back into place.

"This is me," You said, trying to keep your tone light as you stopped in front of the portrait.

"Yeah," James replied softly, a bit quieter now like he didn’t want the moment to end. "But, you know, if you ever need anything—"

"I know where to find you," You said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

James looked at you for a long moment, and for just a beat, it felt like everything between you two shifted again. His eyes were intense, but there was something more in them now, something that made your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "You do."

You turned toward the Fat Lady, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. You gave her the password, and as the portrait swung open, you took a last glance at James.

"Night, James," You said, your voice soft.

"Goodnight," he replied, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside.

And for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe there was more to your friendship than you’d ever realized.

--

"He said what?!" Dorcas yelled excitedly, her voice carrying across the otherwise quiet Great Hall. You quickly shushed her, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. It was way too early for this kind of drama.

You had both decided to wake up an hour earlier than all the other girls for two very important reasons: 1) You didn’t trust Emma, and 2) You really didn’t trust Emma.

A few third-years glanced up from their breakfast, clearly curious about the outburst. You snorted, trying to hide your smile as you took another bite of toast.

"And what did you say?" Dorcas asked, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

"Nothing," You muttered, refusing to meet her gaze as you stared off into the distance.

"What do you mean you said nothing?!" She questioned loudly, banging her hand against the table with enough force to rattle your plate.

You grabbed her hands quickly, trying to calm her down. "Stop doing that!" You whispered, sending apologetic glances to the third-years who were now staring openly at you.

"I just mean you had a perfect opportunity to get back at Emma, get Potter on your side, and you said nothing?!" Dorcas exclaimed, her voice rising with the excitement of her accusation.

You sighed, guilt twisting in your stomach. "I can’t do that to him, Dorc," You said quietly.

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly processing your words. There was a flash of realization in her eyes before she grinned, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You like him!"

You felt your face heat up as you rolled your eyes. "I do not."

"You do," She sang, drawing out the words like she was taunting a child.

"I do not," You said firmly, refusing to let her win.

"But you do—"

"I do not!" You interrupted, suddenly shouting, not even bothering to care about the third years who were now openly staring at you.

Dorcas smirked in victory. "Yeah, sure you don’t."

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "This can’t be happening to me. It’s been one day since the plan was made!" You whined, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Dorcas gently pried your hands away from your face, her fingers rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. "You can’t just hold your feelings in. If you like Potter, then so what?" She said gently, trying to comfort you. "Better than that evil witch."

You snorted at that. "I can't, Dorcas. I refuse to like someone who has the craziest ex-girlfriend in all of girlfriend history."

She sighed dramatically, looking at you as if you were the most difficult person in the world. "So what’s your master plan now, huh? Avoid him forever?"

You put on a fake, thoughtful face. "Avoid him," You pondered with a smile. "It’s the only option. Great idea, Dorc!"

Dorcas huffed, shaking her head as she took her hands away from yours. "Yeah, maybe just avoid him," She muttered, clearly not sold on your brilliant plan.

You laughed and stabbed a fork into your eggs. "Exactly."

Before Dorcas could reply, a voice slid in beside her, smooth and familiar. "Isn’t it the prettiest ladies I’ve had the honor of seeing as I awake?" Sirius Black drawled, grinning widely. Dorcas immediately shot him a disgusted look, scooting a few inches away from him.

"What do you want, Black?" You asked, already annoyed before he could even open his mouth again.

"Why do you treat me so horribly when I just want your love?" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as if you had wounded him deeply.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his antics.

"Are all of the Marauders this dramatic?" Dorcas asked, still eyeing Sirius in distaste.

"Believe it or not, yes," You confirmed, just as someone slid into the seat beside you.

"Good morning," James Potter greeted, flashing you that same sweet smile you had trouble getting out of your head.

You immediately felt a flutter in your chest. Your throat seemed to dry up as you turned to look at him. He looked radiant this morning—like the sun itself had decided to take residence in his smile.

You gulped, your brain scrambling for words. You quickly glanced at Dorcas, who gave you a subtle shake of her head, silently telling you not to do anything rash.

"Morning!" you rushed out, way too eager. You quickly gathered your things, mentally panicking. "I actually have to go study in the library for a while, so I’m just gonna go ahead." You stood quickly, trying to make your escape.

James stood up with you, looking at you with those shining eyes. "I can come with," He offered cheerfully, clearly not reading the room at all.

You shook your head rapidly, desperate to escape the conversation. "No, no! I’ll be fine!" you said a little too quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you backed away. "I’ll just see you later."

James and Sirius exchanged a curious glance as you rushed off. You breathed a sigh of relief the moment you stepped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

Finally, peace and quiet.

But then you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James Potter jogging to catch up.

"Hey!" He called out, clearly not bothered by your earlier panic. "I decided to come with you since I’ve got nothing to do. Figured we could walk to class together after studying." He said it so cheerfully as if you hadn’t just escaped from his company a few moments ago.

You blinked, speechless. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. You didn’t think it would be this hard to get James Potter off your back.

He matched your pace, the two of you walking side by side in the silence that felt anything but comfortable.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if your life had just become infinitely more complicated than you had planned.

"So, what did you need to study?" James asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he looked at you with that easygoing grin of his.

You quickly scrambled for an answer, the pressure of his gaze making your mind race. "Astronomy!" You replied a bit too quickly, the excitement in your voice betraying your nerves.

"But you've always been good at Astronomy," James raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical as he studied you closely.

You tried to shrug it off, but your voice betrayed you. "I'm afraid the subject's been slowly slipping from me," You said, forcing a smile.

His face softened, the skepticism fading into a more understanding look. "Yeah, Professor Sinistra does tend to move quickly," He said, nodding in agreement. "I even tried to cast a time-slowing spell on her once just to get down all my notes."

You laughed, the image of James trying (and likely failing) to slow down the Professor amusing. "And what did you get in return?" you asked, a teasing grin playing on your lips.

"Two weeks of detention," He said, smirking as if the whole thing was just a funny memory. "Totally worth it though."

You giggled, the sound feeling lighter in your chest. "Of course it was."

You both walked in silence next to each other, making your way towards the library. You were glad that the silence was comfortable but a part of you still thought avoiding James was the best plan.

You went to sit at a table before James rushed over to you, pulling your chair out for you as you rolled your eyes, "Do you just want me to keep calling you a gentleman?"

"A bit," He shrugged as he sat down across from you.

You opened your textbook for Astronomy, actually deciding to do work since you were there anyways.

You noticed James making paper planes and attempting to get them to fly over your head. By the fourth one, it hit you square in the forehead, and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"Do you need me to give you a task?" You asked, eyeing him with a look that could only be described as 'toddler supervision.'

James rested his head on his palm, his gaze staring off into space. "I just think there are more exciting things we could be doing right now," He replied with a bored sigh.

"Like what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and offering him a light smile.

He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with mischief. "I could teach you how to play Quidditch!"

You almost felt sick just hearing the words. You shook your head furiously. "I don't know about that," You said, looking back down at your textbook as if you could will the conversation away.

James grabbed your hand in an exaggerated plea. "Come on, it'll be fun!" He cheered, his enthusiasm making you laugh, but before you could say anything else, the librarian shushed him with a fierce look.

You giggled quietly, "Sorry, James, no," You said firmly, scribbling some notes in your textbook.

James pouted dramatically, laying his head down on the desk in defeat. You studied him for a few moments as he huffed, like a child who hadn't gotten his way.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the pull of his antics. "I'm not falling for this."

He continued to pout, his face scrunched in exaggerated misery. He pretended to sniffle dramatically, looking up at you with his big hazel eyes.

"No, James, I mean it," You said, trying to keep your tone firm, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

--

And next thing you knew, you were on the Quidditch field.

You yelped loudly as you clung to James’s waist, the wind rushing in your face as he zoomed higher into the sky. "We haven't even made it into the air yet!" James laughed excitedly, clearly having the time of his life as you panicked.

"This is still really high!" You cried out, your grip tightening around him. You dared a glance down and saw the ground growing smaller and more distant by the second.

"Close your eyes, I’ve got you!" James shouted reassuringly, though it still sounded somehow delicate, soothing you.

With a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped him even tighter. The wind whipped around you, but James’s steady hold kept you grounded—physically, at least. When you opened your eyes, the sensation of rising fast into the air filled you with a mix of excitement and dread.

James cheered as you both soared, flipping through the air and spiraling in wide, dizzying motions. You screamed, the wind filling your lungs with cold, sharp air.

But then, as if sensing your panic, James calmed things down, steering the broom to glide slowly over the Black Lake.

You exhaled a long breath, your heart rate slowing as you took in the view. From this height, the lake looked more beautiful than you'd ever seen it before, its surface sparkling in the early morning light.

You rested your cheek against his back, staring down at the glistening water below. "This is really pretty," You murmured, surprised at how peaceful it felt up here.

James chuckled lightly. "It's one of my favorite things to look at when I ride." He smiled, but you could feel his warmth, even through the rush of wind. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back with a grin that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Is this where you disappear to during Quidditch games when you're supposed to be looking for the snitch?" You joked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James's eyes widened dramatically. "You've figured me out!" he yelled, a laugh bursting from him before he abruptly swerved the broom again, causing you both to spiral upward with another whoosh of wind.

You screamed as you were whipped through the air, but James’s laughter was all you could hear. He cheered as the wind carried you higher, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you felt the thrill and panic collide inside you.

Seeing James so excited, gliding through the air, eased most of your fear. His laughter, the way he moved so effortlessly—it was impossible not to feel lighter in his presence.

You hadn’t realized until now how much you wanted to see someone smile like that, so carefree and alive. His joy was infectious, and it made you feel like maybe you were starting to enjoy this too.

James’s grin widened when he saw the way you were watching him. “See? Told you it’s fun up here,” he said, his voice full of that same infectious enthusiasm. He spun the broom gently, making you feel the rush of wind again, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.

You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s amazing up here,” You admitted.

James’s smile softened as he gently lowered both of you to the ground. You carefully dismounted the broom, your legs still a little shaky from the ride.

As James went to put the broom back in its rightful place, you glanced at your watch—(yes, you had actually bought one)—and your heart dropped. "Shit! James, we’re going to be late!" You yelled, rushing toward him.

He immediately sprinted over as you tossed his bag at him with a hurried "Sorry!" You grabbed yours, slinging it over your shoulder before running up the stairs.

After what felt like an eternity of climbing, you stopped at the first landing to catch your breath.

James huffed, leaning on the railing. "Maybe we should just skip," He suggested, looking at you with a mischievous glint.

You shot him a death glare as the stairs shifted back into place, urging him to hurry. "Not an option, Potter!"

You both barely made it to class, arriving two minutes late. Professor Adair gave you both a disappointed look and gestured to the empty seats in the front. The entire class seemed to turn toward you, exchanging curious glances.

James leaned over and whispered, "Hey, you did great today."

You flushed, feeling a little flustered. "Thanks," You mumbled, half of you still recovering from the flying.

"Think I can have a spot on the team?" You asked, grinning at him.

James grinned back. "Oh, for sure. Your flying skills are impeccable," He said, his tone light and teasing.

"Be careful, Potter. I might take your spot as Seeker." You nudged him, half-joking, but his hand squeezed your thigh lightly in response.

You were about to respond when you saw your friends walking toward you, with Emma trailing behind them. The glare she shot you could've melted stone, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of unease.

"And why were you two late?" Lily asked, her voice mock-stern.

"Well, Mom, we were out flying," James said with a dramatic pout, making you laugh.

Lily looked at you, wide-eyed. "You went flying?"

"How did you make her do that?" Remus asked, half-sitting on his chair in front of you as Sirius snored, head resting on his shoulder.

"I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Y/N jump ," Marlene chimed in, snickering.

You shot her a look, but the corner of your lips twitched. "It was a one-time thing."

"Oh, yeah?" James smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. "I think there’s still more flying to do," He teased, and you giggled.

Your friends exchanged suspicious glances, but Emma’s sour expression cut through the moment. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on James, her voice syrupy sweet. "Well, we’re thinking about going to Hogsmeade tonight," she said, ignoring you completely.

"Sounds fun," You said casually, but Emma’s smile faltered slightly.

Sirius yawned, not looking up from where he was practically asleep on Remus’s shoulder. "So, are you two in?"

James looked at you with a grin. "If M’lady is."

"Sure, why not?" You responded lightly.

Emma looked like she was about to cast the Killing Curse right there, but she held it together, forcing a fake smile. "Great, it’s a date," She said, her eyes burning into you.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be very interesting.

[mothfishing]

reblog this if you voted.

ammar is a deathly ill gazan infant whose condition has been allowed to severely deteriorate as a result of the israeli occupation. can you believe this? i can't show the images of his condition or the post will be suppressed. here are the photos.

my dear friend @murderbot has been in contact with his mother, samah, for months, and i can't begin to tell you how much she's gone through to desperately try and keep her baby alive. month after month after month, unable to keep him safe and healthy, unable to get his treatments consistently...this vicious cycle has left him incredibly weak. if she had access to consistent medical care from the beginning, i guarantee ammar would not be in the condition he is now.

and yet, here we are. ammar needs medicine weekly, and on top of that samah needs to pay to keep the medical tent she acquired for him. i'm serious, if he doesn't have this tent he could DIE. he is DYING.

NO ONE IS HELPING HIM.

i don't even know how to talk about this part. people just do not donate to ammar. i'm extremely grateful to everyone who helped cover his recent medication, truly, i am - it was the first time there were a significant number of donations outside the small number of people who have been pouring out their savings to save his life. but i can't emphasize enough, we are in this situation because he has never received regular crowdfunding support. the few people paying for his bills regularly are completely tapped out. we are not rich people. we cannot help him on our own. we need your help and it WON'T be someone else, if you ignore this then NO ONE else is going to help. i am quite literally begging you because i've watched ammar for a long time and i don't want him to die.

the payment to keep the medical tent he's in is was due days ago, the last time she missed the payment she only stayed in because her neighbors forced the tent owner to give her more time to pay. please, ammar will die if left entirely homeless.

$51 / $1091

more detailed explanation of the fee

post with her vetting and more info including her OK-ing use of this ko-fi etc

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@monstermashpotato @certifiedsexed @thatdiabolicalfeminist @rickybabyboy

@chokulit @foxgirltail @memingursa @whatcoloristhatcat @oh-hools

@pbscore @cfo-of-antifa @ophiocordyceps @featheredcritter @omegaversereloaded

@autisticmudkip @celadonwanderer @paparoach @papenathys

@halorvic @valtsv @d3adfreudian @antigonick @ramshackledtrickster

@colombogramme @theropoda @noble-kale @ghostofanonpast @turian

[bleedinginkxiii]

Me at work: daydreaming about like 50 different fic scenarios and art concepts and future projects and campaign story

Me off work: wow I finally have free time to *SLEEPS*

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.

[passionwillow]

GIRL I AM LOVING YOUR DR ROBBY POSTS. Please keep it up, I am rabid. Why can’t these characters be reallll.

Can I request something for me (n maybe other gals) who hasn’t had an orgasm with a partner but who has been able to cum by themselves like with a vibrator— I feel like he’d be the one to make me cum through penetration alone and I like to imagine that would get him more riled up being able to make that happen and be the first one to do it

Hahahahaah I’m going feral ahahahah

As someone who also struggles with this, I agree 1000% this man would be able to make you finish on penetration alone. Look at him. 😩

- Robby made it his personal mission to make you cum from his cock, and only his cock.

- He found it almost criminal you’d never had an orgasm from penetration before. A gorgeous girl like you deserved it, and no one you’d been with before him had the skill? It should be punishable.

- He wasn’t cocky, by any means. He was actually almost bashful. But he wasn’t going to let you walk around like that, not knowing the pleasure. He was confident he could change that.

- He has you laid out on his bed, the sheets filled with the soft scent of his cologne and body wash. His hands were gentle as they stripped away your clothing, eyes hungry as they drank up every exposed bit of skin.

- He kissed over your bare chest briefly before standing up, stripping his own clothes off much to your pleasure. Broad shoulders and chest, the happy trail..

- You moaned soft and breathless as he slipped into you, the stretch and ache making your toes curl and back arch. He wasted no time.

- Things always started out great. The full feeling of someone inside you, the sweet friction and burn as they thrust that slowly faded. But you couldn’t get that final push over.

- “Shh, relax, baby. Just lay back and let handle it, alright?” His soothing tone quieted the nervous noise in your brain. His thumbs rubbed small circles on your hips as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

- The slow roll of his hips, the weight of them pressed into yours had you gasping and moaning much earlier than you expected. He broad form braced over yours, his own breathing short and quick as he worked into you.

- He was relishing in the feeling of your nails on his chest, clawing over his pecks as your legs trembled. You get them spread wide as he directed, your walls fluttering.

- “That’s it, baby. Just let go. I’m right here.” You cried out in surprise and pleasure as he angled his hips, tip kissing your cervix and making your toes curl. He was so fucking deep, how was it possible?

- He wanted nothing more than to reach between your legs and rub your clit, just to see the jolt of pleasure on your face, but he held back. He focused on his rhythm, fitting deeper inside you and keeping the steady pace.

- You felt the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach, your toes curling as the frustration already started to built. But Robby kept a perfect tempo, resting a hand on your lower stomach and pushing down, groaning as he felt his cock inside you.

- “Almost there, baby, trust me. Just close your eyes and feel it.” It wasn’t hard to shut your eyes, you were already spiraling. You focused his the pressure on your stomach, the glide of him inside you.

- You could feel the wave ebbing and flowing. The pressure on your cervix as he nudged it with each thrust, the tremble in your thighs as he stretched and filled you. It was all too much and not enough.

- The rubber band in your lower stomach tightened and trembled, but you couldn’t believe it when it finally snapped. Your walls clenched hard around him as you cried out his name, the vicious wave of your orgasm rushing over you.

- You felt it in your toes, your fingertips. Blood rushing, ears ringing, your jaw slack as you tried to catch your breath. Tingling and rushing and holy shit, he fucking did.

- Robby couldn’t have been more smug, but he hid it for now. He held your hips in a vice and ground into you until you were whimpering, letting you ride out the whole high before stopping, still buried inside you.

- “You alright? Was it too much?” His concern sent a warm rush of affection through your chest, and you grinned as you reach up and cupped his scruffy cheek. “Baby, that was.. Wow.”

- He grinned bashful and cheeky, leaning down to peck your lips before whispering. “Told you so.” You grinned and laughed softly and breathless as you wrapped a leg around him, fingers tugging at his short locks. “Maybe you should prove it again.”

[lesbworth]

a probably incomplete list and rating of all the britcoms i have watched and how gay they are

somehow, during my short life, i have managed to watch an obscene amount of britcom, mostly through family osmosis. this probably explains a lot about who i am today. i have recently been thinking about just how many of these things have passed through my eyeballs over the years and also just how many of them range from kind of to very to unbelievably gay. so here is a list rating how gay they all are out of 10 because i always love a list!

notes:

many of these i watched at a tender age so i remember kind of fuck all and i have not rewatched any for the purposes of this. so be aware that several of these reviews are based on hazy recollections of vibes

yes some of the ones with canon queer characters are going to have lower ratings than some of the ones without that's simply how the cookie crumbles. sometimes a show is just packed to the absolute brim with pure trademark typically english inexplicable repressed homoeroticism and it makes it feel gayer than one where a character came out

let's say 5/10 is what i consider the "average" level of britcom homoeroticism but other than that there's no system to the ratings just vibes fr

-

1960s

dad's army

this is probably the one i started watching at the youngest age, but i watched so damn much of it. i was too young to be looking out for this kind of thing but considering it fits the classic britcom format of revolving around the strong bonds between a cast that fails to pass the bechdel test i'm gonna make an educated guess at 3/10. there's probably old man yaoi in there somewhere. (and if i had to pick the main ship it would clearly be mainwaring/wilson)

1970s

all creatures great and small

i mean. OBJECTIVELY. it is not gay. it's literally based on real people who as far as we know were not in the least gay. but THERE'S JUST A WEIRD VIBE. AM I CRAZY? TELL ME I'M NOT CRAZY 5/10 (it's probably partly a side effect of watching this as a babygay since i would basically headcanon the whole main cast of anything i watched as bisexual. good times. i also had tristan farnon gender envy)

fawlty towers

really heterosexual vibe i will not lie. at least 60% propped up by classic i hate my wife humour. if there's anything queer in there it did not impress itself upon me 0/10 at least it inspired vicious

the good life

ostensibly this is about two married couples but it emits such an oddly bisexual energy??? like they're a polycule. to me. which is already basically canon since they have the whole wifeswap dynamic but i mean tom and jerry (yes really) are giving exes and margo and barbara have probably snogged a couple of times. TO ME. 6/10

only when i laugh

on balance i think it's probably at least a bit homoerotic considering the bechdel test metric again but despite having decently clear memories of it i can't think of anything particularly. i'll give it a 4/10 and as a raffles fan christopher strauli being there adds a point LMAO

porridge

despite being set in a men's prison i don't think it gets a very high score... let's go 4/10 because i'm sure there's enough there to go off of. pretty sure there were also many jokes about gay sex as can be expected. also inspired red dwarf

rising damp

going to be so for real the main thing i remember is the racism. 1/10? there are enough male characters that there might have been something idk

to the manor born

i mean it's a straight romance but it's not toooo hetero. audrey and marjory are kind of schoolgirl exes yuri #if you think about it. in fact i remember a scene where they're gushing about how they both had a crush on one of their schoolmistresses? 5.5/10?

whatever happened to the likely lads?

i THINK i've watched episodes of this. i know my parents have the box set. but i cannot for the life of me recall anything from it. just based on the premise though, i'll give it a strong 5/10

1980s

'allo 'allo!

girl... i forgor. i don't think so? i mean let's give it 3/10 for being set in france. also i have been reminded that there's an implied gay nazi, diversity win

blackadder (all series)

absolutely. "i cannot conceive", etc and so on. the crossdressing shenanigans. fry & laurie are there. just has a fruitiness about it generally. 7/10

only fools and horses

eeehh. all-male main cast but they're a family which hinders its ability to serve homo. generally giving very straight energy. 1/10 in case i forgot something

red dwarf

the fucking show that led me to make this ranking in the first place. grant naylor you will be dealt with. 10/10

a very peculiar practice

i didn't watch much of this and it was a long time ago but distinctly remember getting some kind of A Vibe. and looking it up apparently one of the main characters is canonically bi?? damn 7/10

yes, minister (and yes, prime minister)

look. LOOK. there's just something about it. it's the father of the thick of it which is british succession to me. also sir humphrey is homosexual there is literally no other way to read him nigel hawthorne told me himself actually. go and watch the homoerotic wispa ad 7/10

you rang, m'lord?

i actually haven't watched any full episodes of this but i must give it a 7/10 for the inclusion of CISSY the stylish 1920s aristocratic butch communist who could have walked right out of le monocle. love it

1990s

drop the dead donkey

this was such a deep cut i actually forgot it existed until making this list. i know i watched quite a lot of it to be honest but i can't remember shit other than that i liked one of the women's hair. i think it was pretty straight? NEVERMIND THERE'S A LESBIAN IN IT HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT A WHOLE LESBIAN 6/10

father ted

to be honest i don't think this comes from quite the same place homoeroticism-wise as most of the others on this list given that it's irish and not english (not to disparage oscar wilde of course!). catholic yaoi...? i really don't think so 2/10 for the catholicism also get fucked graham linehan

jeeves and wooster

let's be serious now. 9/10 i <3 gay people. i was raised on the books which also probably explains a lot about me... and naturally i have also always gotten severe gender envy from bertie

mr. bean

is mr. bean really considered britcom. can i leave him out. i'm going to leave him out

one foot in the grave

now i am certain i have watched this because i remember the theme song and vaguely the title sequence but i also forgot about its existence until this list. honestly i think it was just giving constant i hate my wifeism even the imprint where a memory once was of it that i have feels tiring 0/10

the royle family

painfully straight but in the way your irl straight friends are. if that makes sense. 1/10

2000s

black books

maybe i watched this at an overly impressionable age but like... it's giving. it's got the odd couple the domesticity the found family if you will. the m/f platonic relationships. also tamsin greig in that haircut? i remember always being so unconvinced that fran was straight that woman looks sooo lesbian 8/10 and FUCK graham linehan

the it crowd

very classic britcomism (you're my wife roy! you're my wife!!!) and i mean the guys snog on screen that is very much a thing that happened. also i just don't really think richard ayoade can totally play straight despite being a straight man. also the main three kind of have rancid bisexual polycule potential. also there's a goth. also i would watch gay! a gay musical. 7/10 AND FUCK GRAHAM LINEHAN!!!!!!

peep show

classic britcom homoerotic odd couple except one of them is actually bisexual and played by a bisexual actor. and the other is "possibly bi but basically uncurious". and they ALSO snog on screen. i haven't watched much of this to my shame but I Know What It Is 8/10

the thick of it

BRITISH SUCCESSION. i swear to god you would all be foaming at the mouth about this if it came out at a time and context to be big on tumblr. malcolm tucker god's worst bisexual 7.5/10 by the way that's an incredibly homophobic headline you massive poof!

2010s

ghosts

8.5/10 right off the bat brother firstly it's a six idiots show which already guarantees a high score but also it's genuinely very sweet with regards to canon queerness and the characters are flamboyant and lovable in a way guaranteed to attract the kind of queer fandom it has today. captain my beloved

upstart crow

i mean of course it's about shakespeare and it doesn't shy away from implying he's queer but the general vibe is not suuuper fruity. i'll say 6.5/10

vicious

this is what i'm TALKING ABOUTTT i'm so glad this show exists in the world. genuinely what would we even do if there WASN'T a show about ian mckellen and derek jacobi being a gay couple of 50 years who hate each other 11/10

yonderland

i feel like this makes ghosts too low but i wanted to put yonderland a bit higher for the sheer amount of environmental queerness knocking about in there and also the general campiness of it all. six idiots moment. 9/10 the elders are incredible ho-tan you will always be famous queen

2020s

staged

yeah. 9/10

-

thank you for reading 🙏 honestly i basically just made this for the appeal of making A List but absolutely feel free to argue with me about the ratings, suggest your own fav britcoms not listed here, et cetera

(also have fun spotting the same fucking people in half of them LMAO. i fear british tv is never beating the 3 actors allegations)

[lordprettyflackotara]

fill the void || fred weasley

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+

It felt odd in a way, being alone for the first time.

Usually you were surrounded by your fellow Slytherins, the smell of cigarettes and cologne something your nostrils had grown accustomed to. The sound of vicious insults or bitter rants making a nest in your ears. The sight of scowls with liquor in their hands, their knuckles typically bruised and bloody.

But right now, all of that was gone. The air in the courtyard was clean, the breeze blowing past you providing you with the smell of the earth. Your sights were centered on a giant oak tree, as well as the moon that dimly illuminated the area below. It was an odd change, your surroundings being so settled. You couldn’t help but wonder what you would’ve become if you hadn’t been placed in Slytherin. Maybe yellow would’ve suited you better.

It wasn’t that you despised your housemates, even if they were a group of misfit toys. Mattheo protected you, Theo tutored you, Draco was always glued to your side. It wasn’t them that troubled you. It was what wearing the sickening shade of green meant. Submission to the dark lord. Following the ideology of pureblood nonsense. Especially being one of the only prominent girls, there was always the lingering question who’d you marry and reproduce with.

Yuck.

“Am I interrupting?”

You didn’t need to turn around. You’d recognize a Weasley’s voice anywhere. “Unfortunately not,” You admitted. You hated to admit you knew which Weasley twin it was, a lanky Fred Weasley plopping down beside you on the concrete steps. He stretched out his long legs, mere inches separating both of you. “Is there a reason you’re perched out here instead of doing shots with your friends?” Fred asked. How could you explain why? Oh yes, I am having an existential crisis because of the fact my dress is emerald. Want to go inside and split a chocolate frog?

“Where’s your other half? Didnt think you two separated,” You quipped, brushing off his question. Fred took the hint, leaning back on his hands. “Currently snogging Angelina Johnson,” He answered. This caught your attention, your head snapping to look over at him. “The chaser that wiped the floor with Blaise last season?” You asked. Sometimes you forgot how small this dreaded University actually was. Fred nodded, shrugging. “Aggressive on and off the field, just the way George likes em,” He replied.

You snorted. “Ahh yes. Makes sense a Weasley would enjoy being slutted out,” You snickered. It was too easy of a jab. Fred began to man spread, his long legs in your personal bubble. “I wouldn’t be so hasty little serpent. A few of us know how to put a brat in their place,” He smirked. The cocky motherfucker winked, heat dashing across your cheeks. You must be in a different dimension. There’s no bloody way a Weasley made you blush. “You’re cute when you blush,” Fred praised. He couldn’t help but notice how good you looked in the moonlight, the beams highlighting your features.

“Are you complimenting me Weasley?” You questioned. You avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the fact your heart skipped a beat. “Obviously not, i’m flirting with you,” Fred replied, unable to control the smile creeping across his lips. You were just so easy to tease. “What makes you think you can flirt with me?” You asked, turning your head to look over at the ginger. He shrugged, meeting your firey gaze with ease. “Perhaps it’s because we’re in the same boat, sitting out here alone in a bloody courtyard while the yule ball is less than five hundred feet away,” Fred explained. You audibly scoffed. “Weasley’s can’t afford a boat,” You spat.

Fred chuckled at your insult, your venom harmless to him. “Considering you’re out here I think it’s safe to say your boat has sank. Guess we’re on the same island together then,” He replied. You couldn’t help but find his facial expression smug. “Great,” You grumbled. You rested your chin on your knees, contemplating your life decisions. Fred sighed. “Well, if my presence really isn’t that valued i’ll relocate,” He said. He began to rise to his feet, your body doing a one eighty. You didn’t realize your hand was gripping his wrist until it was, desperately holding him in place.

“Sit down Weasley. I-,” You paused, looking up at the ginger. “I’d prefer it if you stayed.”

Fred grinned down at you mischievously, resuming his place beside you. “Figured you’d say that. Just wanted to hear you say it,” He gloated. You slapped his arm. “You’re unbearable. You know that don’t you?” You grumbled. Fred couldn’t help but laugh. Your annoyance was adorable. “You seem to like it,” He replied. You frowned as he stood up in front of you. “Do not,” You argued.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

Fred extended his hand in front of you. The faint sound of classical music could be heard over the stillness, the wind having faded out. “Care to dance?” He asked. The choice was standing right in front of you, demanding an answer. You could say no and continue moping on the stairs. You could say no and go back inside, all eyes on you once again. Or you could say yes, potentially having a good time with a boy you didn’t belong with. Dancing with a Weasley? Draco would have a field day with this one. But Fred’s hand never looked more appealing than it did in that moment.

Hesitantly you took his hand, allowing him to bring you to your feet. Even in heels he easily towered over you, the ginger not hesitating to bring you close to his chest. “You know you can drop the bad girl act with me, I won’t tell,” Fred said, guiding you back and forth. You were an awkward dancer, despite the endless ballroom dancing classes your parents put you through. “It’s not an act,” You argue. Fred looked down at you, his face painted like he knew you. Like he could see right through your hollow shell.

“Sure it isn’t. And i’m not the best prankster in Hogwarts,” He quipped. You slowly spun you around, giving you time to catch up as you almost tripped in your heels. “You’ve really got quite an ego, don’t you Weasley?” You asked. Fred grinned as he pulled you back close to him. “Thats a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” He asked. You glared up at him. “I think not,” You argued. Even though your words were laced with venom, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed his touch.

So gentle but so assertive, guiding you. Your mind strayed away, imagining him guiding you a different way. Guiding you to take his cock, to ride him until the sun came up. “Hey? Are you listening little serpent?” Fred asked, his voice coming back into frame. You blinked a few times, trying to regain your composure. “Sorry, what?” You asked. Fred slowly guided the dance to a stop, the song ending. You couldn’t help but wish it’d last forever. “I was asking what you’re thinking about,” He said.

You could feel yourself turning red, your filthy thoughts flooding to the forefront of your mind. You felt tongue tied, unable to confess your dirty fantasies. “Ohh, I see,” Fred said. You couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye, embarrassed enough to be in this position. You felt his slender fingers slide under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. You allowed him to guide you, his eyes boring into yours. You liked that, allowing him to guide you. Even if he was supposed to be bad for you, his touch put you on cloud nine.

“Do you like that? When I guide you? Take control?” Fred asked, his voice dropping an octave lower than before. You could’ve dropped to your knees in an instant. “Maybe I do,” You replied, not wanting to cave, not just yet. Fred leaned down further, pressing his lips against yours. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be, filling the void inside of you. The void that craved approval and validation. His lips provided all of that and more. He guided you towards the giant oak tree, pinning you against it.

The sharp bark scraped at your back, a groan escaping your lips as Fred’s refused to stray from yours. You raked your hands throw his hair, pulling at the roots roughly. Fred whined into your mouth, smirking as he pulled away. “Cute,” He murmured. His eyes flickered behind you, ensuring no one was around. “As much as i’d love to make you squirm, we can’t do much here,” He whispered. You pulled him back to your lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough, your body craving him.

“That eager, are we?” Fred asked, pulling you back in for another kiss. You gently bit his bottom lip, pulling it towards you. “Fuck me, at the very least Weasley,” You ordered weakly, your body betraying the attempt at dominance you were spewing. Fred grinned mischievously. “Turn around for me pretty girl,” He purred. You did as asked, his large hands pushing you against the tree. You could hear the clinking of his belt, your core throbbing in anticipation.

His large hands pushed up your dress, pulling your panties to the slide. “You’re lucky we’re in the courtyard, otherwise i’d make you beg and scream for me to fuck you,” Fred purred. You felt his tip brush up and down your folds, a moan escaping your lips. One of Fred’s hands flew to your mouth. “Gotta keep quiet little serpent. Dont want anyone to hear you being a whore for a Weasley, do you?” He taunted. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, your body feeling like it may split in two.

“You’re fuckin soaked for me,” Fred mused, placing a sloppy kiss against your shoulder. Your moans were muffled by his hand, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I’m bigger than Malfoy aren’t I?” He asked teasingly as he bottomed out inside of you. You grabbed onto his wrist, yanking it away from your mouth. “In your dreams Weasley,” You spat, whimpering as he bucked his hips ever so slightly. Fred began to suck at the side of your neck, harsh enough to leave a hickey. “Dont leave marks on me,” You argued, moaning as he began to thrust into you. Fred released your neck with a pop, satisfied as the skin began to turn purple.

“Whys that? Afraid your boy toys will find out you’ve let me in between your legs?” Fred asked, beginning to pick up the pace. His pace was brutal, his hand flying back over your mouth to muffle your sinful noises. “When they ask tell them. Tell them how I ruined you. How a Gryffindor made you cum in a courtyard like a dog in heat,” Fred huffed. He continued to viciously snap his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot with each thrust. You moaned his name into his hand, gripping one of his wrist and the tree for support.

“You’re so fucking tight, so perfect,” Fred groaned into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He removed his hand from your mouth, his hands taking their rightful place on your hips. “I’m going to make you cum on my cock. You understand me? You’re going make a mess for me,” Fred ordered. His orders were hypnotizing, your legs beginning to shake as he held onto the fabric of your dress. You could feel the knot inside of you tighten, a familiar feeling coming.

“Please make me cum Freddie, fucking please,” You pleaded, your orgasm coming faster than you’d like to admit. Fred chuckled, fucking you mercilessly against the tree. “There she is, there’s my sweet whore. Go on, cum for me,” He panted. You squeezed his wrist tightly as you came, euphoria washing over you as you came on his shaft. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out on you at any moment. You felt Fred’s hips stutter, the ginger pulling out of you.

He guided you onto the ground, your bare knees hitting the dirt below. You stuck out your tongue, allowing Fred to cum inside of your mouth. “Holy shit,” Fred moaned, watching as you swallowed every last top. You both sat there for a moment, your highs subsiding as you soaked in what you had just done.

“Hey y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna grab a butterbeer sometime?”

“Shut up Weasley.”

[cosmosluckycharms]

can we get more incorrect quotes?

like this time with miguel + reader but also damion and penny

i mean like if you INSIST (i love making these)

spider!reader, peni & damian : *screaming*

miguel: *runs into the room* What's wrong, damian ?!

spider!reader: Wait, why are you asking damian that when peni and I are also here?

miguel: Because damian wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

spider!reader: The scariest president had to be Rushmore because he had four heads.

peni: Yeah, it’s a good thing we captured him in that mountain, even if we have to live in fear of the spell wearing off.

miguel: Do you two still believe in that legend? Come on, Rushmore was killed a hundred years ago! We’re safe now.

damian : You people have clearly never taken a history lesson. His body was never found.

miguel: Are you laughing at that video of peni and damian fighting?

spider!reader: No.

spider!reader: I'm laughing at the comments.

*The squad is visiting a store late at night to return a DVD for spider!reader*

damian: I forget—what happens if we don’t return the DVD before midnight?

miguel: Then spider!reader gets charged extra. It’s called a “late fee”.

peni: Or was it zombie apocalypse? Eh, I don’t remember, but we can’t afford either.

peni: *clicks pen*

spider!reader: *clicks pen in response*

damian: Stop that.

peni : Stop what?

damian: You’re talking about me in Morse code!

spider!reader: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out!

*later*

spider!reader, to miguel: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.

peni: Can I be frank with you guys?

damian: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is going to help.

spider!reader: Oh! Can I still be spider!reader?

miguel: Shh. Let Frank speak.

miguel: I just watched peni jump off of a spinning chair. Luckily, she wasnt hurt that badly. But the whole time, damian was screaming for help, which caused spider!reader to run in to help peni. Just note that all of this happened in the span of six minutes.

miguel: What do you three have to say for yourself?

peni:

damian:

spider!reader: Oops?

damian: miguel, we're hungry!

peni: miguel! What's for dinner?

spider!reader: We're hungry, miguel!

miguel, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

miguel: Why are you two always out during rainstorms?

spider!reader: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of rain.

damian : peni bet me I couldn’t get struck by lighting, but she's WRONG.

miguel: *points at peni* A human turtleneck, *points at damian * a narcissistic monster, *points at spider!reader* and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met.

spider!reader: And who am I? Describe me now.

peni, pointing to the wall: What color is this?

damian : Gray.

spider!reader: Grey.

peni, turning to miguel: Now tell them what color you think it is.

miguel: Dark white.

spider!reader: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

miguel: Fucking damian and peni were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

*The gang when they drop food on the floor*

miguel: Aw man. *Throws it away*

spider!reader: Five second rule!

damian : Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor*

peni: *Sobs on the floor*

spider!reader: damian's out the will.

damian: That’s honestly fair. I deserve that.

miguel: Wait, you have a will? Already? You haven’t even graduated.

spider!reader: I’ve done some things in my life. Upset the wrong people. peni, you have a will too, right?

peni: Lots. Good luck figuring out which one’s real.

spider!reader: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

damian: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

miguel: Wasps?

peni: Terriers?

spider!reader: damian.

damian: What’s it like being tall?

peni: Is it nice?

spider!reader: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

miguel: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

peni: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

damian : *crouches down*

spider!reader: *kneels down*

miguel: *sits on the floor*

peni: peni: I hate all of you.

peni: damian got into a fight.

spider!reader: That’s bad.

spider!reader:

spider!reader: Did he win?

peni: Hey, spider!reader, have you thought about having children?

spider!reader: ...

spider!reader: Does looking over you and the others not seem like I already do? Because I promise you, it sure feels like it.

peni: But we're not childr-

spider!reader, already distracted: DAMIAN, PUT THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER DOWN!

damian: You're pathetic!

peni: You're pathetic-er!

spider!reader: You're both losers.

damian: Comparing spider!reader and peni is like comparing apples and oranges.

spider!reader: We’re both unique in our own ways?

damian: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

peni: Which one of us is the orange?

spider!reader: damian, peni, I love y’all and all, but can I ask what in the hell are you doing?

damian, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that peni is sitting atop: Oh nothing much.

peni: I love you too :)

peni: I know we’re not exactly friends, but-

damian: What do you want?

peni: I've been stuck with spider!reader for 2 weeks and they've been drinking all the soy sauce.

peni: Help.

spider!reader: I will find us a covered wagon and horses. spider!reader: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone.

damian: Oh, please. We're not children.

*spider!reader leaves*

damian, casually: ...Eat shit and die.

peni, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

spider!reader: damian, we need that!

damian, holding peni over a trash can: Nope.

spider!reader: Gimme it—

damian: It’s garbage.

peni: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on spider!reader without them noticing?

damian: Hey, spider!reader, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

spider!reader: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser.

peni: ...

peni: What’s your favorite color?

damian: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature.

peni: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP?

damian: My favorite color is red.

damian: We vegetarians love the environment. Carnivores are sick freaks.

peni: How can vegetarians possibly love the environment.. you keep eating all the fucking plants.

haha i love damian and peni my sillies for weal