#Lighting Contro

[zeusintegrated]

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[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Unita di Oggi giovedì, 12 settembre 2024

[alittleemo]

sometimes im like maybe im not nd maybe im j making it all up. and other times i sit at family dinner and go ohh so i can track Exactly what each of you gave me .

[aemondsbabe]

Praise | Taunt Part 2

summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry

a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do!

TAUNT | Part 1

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

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“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor. 

“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?” 

“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.” 

“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?” 

You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.” 

You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.” 

Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible. 

“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?’” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands. 

“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension. 

Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!” 

“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”

“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”

At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.” 

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend. 

“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”

You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book. 

You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact. 

“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you. 

Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael. 

“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point. 

“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”

“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race. 

With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”

“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.

“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”

“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”

“How do you know we’ve been–”

“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”

“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.” 

With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off. 

“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.

“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”

“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”

“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”

“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.” 

With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”

“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.

“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”

“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?” 

“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”

With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.

You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock. 

Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello. 

“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends. 

“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases. 

“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”

“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”

With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too. 

“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off. 

“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck. 

“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”

“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”

Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?” 

You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –

“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”

You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem. 

“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong. 

“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper. 

“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.

“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”

Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs. 

“Michael, I–”

“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.

“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.

“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so. 

“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”

“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!” 

He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.” 

A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted. 

“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt. 

“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”

You whimper helplessly in his lap,  hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”

Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”

“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”

“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”

You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge. 

Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk. 

“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”

You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you. 

“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches. 

“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”

The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap. 

“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”

Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself. 

“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.” 

You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises. 

A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold. 

His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down. 

“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric. 

This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem. 

You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good. 

“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump. 

“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”

“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”

Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!” 

Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish. 

“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center. 

All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps. 

“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”

He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.

“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”

“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.

Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations. 

Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful. 

“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes. 

He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words. 

“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.

“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor. 

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. 

He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.

Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”

“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”

“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.

“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.” 

“Everyone?”

He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”

You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain. 

“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”

“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.

“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger. 

“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”

He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”

“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”

“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”

“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh. 

“Oliver?”

“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”

“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.

He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”

“But…you do?”

He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”

You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 

The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”

The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.

“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh. 

He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees. 

He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead. 

“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed. 

“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.” 

The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth. 

His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine. 

“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild. 

“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.” 

Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids. 

“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.

You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud. 

“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.” 

The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him. 

He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does. 

“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!” 

“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”

You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed. 

You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.” 

The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin. 

“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw. 

He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?” 

You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you. 

The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh. 

Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly. 

He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale. 

Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue. 

“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch. 

“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!” 

With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat. 

“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you. 

Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion. 

“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.” 

The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat. 

A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.” 

“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!” 

He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars. 

His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants. 

You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him. 

Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.” 

You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high. 

“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!” 

Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist. 

In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend. 

Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed. 

You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder. 

“I love you too.” 

You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears. 

“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”

“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.” 

“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. 

He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.” 

You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!” 

He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow. 

“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms. 

“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.” 

You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices. 

“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other. 

You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily. 

“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out. 

“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.

Your Michael.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenswife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @officerbrowneyes

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon pt. 5

synopsis: brooks is in the crowd to watch Y/N’s match, but The Judgement Day is not thrilled when they see him. 

tags: violence, chair shots, good ole’ wrasslin’, angst. fem!reader, ex!brooks, poly!judgement day

A/N: i was gonna wait but i needed to put this out there bc i’m a sick individual...can i just say the love and support on not just this writing but others i’ve posted has been amazing and it makes my day when people message and send requests? literally ty all so much, i would kiss you all on the foreheads if i could 

mentions: @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​

Y/N spent the rest of her time backstage before her match trying to relax. Her conversation with Brooks and the reactions of her partners were doing little to nothing to ease her nerves, but she knew she just needed to go out and do what she did best. She spent some time to herself getting ready before the others came back, and she smiled up at them gently as she laced her boots. Rhea took an eyeliner pen and did her signature TJD underneath one of Y/N’s eyes and Finn stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders to help loosen her up. “So this Brooks character…” Finn began. “He’s going to be out there watching your match?”

As Rhea finished her makeup, Y/N nodded and rolled her shoulders as Finn loosened her up. “He’ll be out there somewhere. And I’m asking you guys not to cause trouble with him.” Dominik scoffed as he tied a purple bandana around his neck. “We can’t make any promises, but we’ll think about it.” He smirked. Y/N wasn’t about to let her partners make a fool of themselves at ringside, so she turned to look at Dom with a small frown. “I’m serious, Dominik. I understand why you guys want me to distance myself from things in my past but I just…h-he’s a good guy.” She said softly. 

For being the largest of the group, Damian was also the biggest softy. He immediately took note of Y/N’s reaction and gave Dom a light slap to the arm. “She has a match soon and you really think this is the time to act like that?” He scolded Dom, who blushed and put his hands up in defense. Rhea rolled her eyes at the two of them and moved to finish getting herself ready. “We’ll behave as long as he behaves.” She said, deciding that would be the end of the conversation. “And you two need to quit fucking around in the corner, we have places to be.” Y/N closed her eyes as Rhea mothered everyone in the room, working to calm herself down and focus on her upcoming match against Candace LeRae. 

Eventually, The fivesome began to make their way to gorilla for Y/N’s match. She was in the middle, Damian and Dominik to her left and Rhea and Finn to her right. Damian and Rhea were definitely the most protective of Y/N and always placed themselves right next to her when possible. She adjusted her pink denim jacket one more time, placed her cherry lollipop in her mouth, and hit the cues with her partners as their lights and music hit. There was something about coming out to the crowds in this new persona, something about the energy that shifted when they all walked in a room…it made Y/N feel incredible. She could barely put it into words how it all felt. But she needed to channel that energy, as this match was huge for her in claiming her spot in the Women’s Division on Raw while also giving Brooks a show in the audience. 

When Brooks said he was going to be front and center, he wasn’t kidding. As The Judgement Day came down to the ring, she immediately took note of where he was and smiled at him; where Y/N thought she would be nervous seeing Brooks during this match, she now felt his presence comforting her. The other four also took note of him and where he was in the audience, but Y/N was able to distract them and have them stand elsewhere during the match. They all begrudgingly did what she asked, but still couldn’t promise they wouldn’t get into any mischief down the road. 

Truth be told, Y/N was also going to cause some chaos and rile them up. They couldn’t control her every move and she was going to continue being the same character she always had been, even before The Judgement Day came into her life. Y/N took the lollipop from her mouth and walked to where Brooks was standing, smirking as she held it out for him and placed the candy into his mouth. The audience around them cheered, having been aware of the history between the two, and Y/N went into the ring like nothing happened. The faces on her partners were not the most thrilled they’d ever been, but she knew she could defend her decision backstage if they had words about it. 

Once the match started, Y/N and Candace were both on a roll. Candace’s acrobatic, more athletic moves were a nice contrast to Y/N’s harsher striking and submission style. Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn all kept to themselves at ringside and even stayed on the other side away from Brooks. But that didn’t erase the fact that every so often they would glare at him; at one point Rhea was even mockingly waving at him to get some kind of reaction. But Brooks wasn’t giving in, he stayed focused on the match and cheered Y/N on while he kept the lollipop in his mouth. Every so often, when she wasn’t looking at her partners, she would look for Brooks and he’d give her a reassuring nod and smile. This was exactly what she needed. At one point though when Y/N fell out of the ring after a pretty nasty hit, Brooks was front and center at the barricade making sure she was okay. 

“Baby, you good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice as he held his hand out for you to get back up. Without a second thought Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled herself up, smiling like the giddy girl she was whenever he’d help her in the past. Fuck, I can’t let him go. She thought to herself. Y/N turned her head though, when her four partners saw was Brooks was doing and made her way to the other side of the ring. “Don’t even think about it.” She told them, shaking her head and letting go of Brooks’s hand. “It’s fine, just go back over there.” Of course, Rhea wasn’t listening. She continued to step closer to them until she was standing in front of Brooks, even though Y/N was trying to keep her away. “If I were you, I’d stay away from our girl.”

Brooks shook his head and laughed in Rhea’s face. “She may be your girl now, but she was mine when no one else gave a fuck about her.” Y/N wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore but was now focused on the three boys. “I’m serious, go!” She knew she couldn’t handle being distracted like this, so she got back in the ring to continue her match. But when she did, Candace was ready to end the entire match and swept under her feet to bring Y/N to the ground. She was going to take advantage of her opponent being distracted, and once Y/N was back on the ground Candace climbed the ropes for a moonsault. Somehow Y/N was able to kick out at the two count, and that brought the attention of The Judgement Day and Brooks back to the match. “I’m not finished with you.” Rhea pointed at Brooks before following the boys back to the other side of the ring. “Come on, Y/N! Get up!” Her partners started to cheer as she took her sweet old time getting to her feet again. 

After everything that just occurred, Y/N was raging. Five people she loved and cared about almost made her lose one of the biggest matches of her career thus far, and she wasn’t about to let any of them live it down. Once she was on her feet again, Y/N started to pace and watch Candace’s every last move. “Get up!” She yelled at her opponent, standing in the corner of the ring to watch her. Once Candace was also up on her feet, Y/N came at her with a spear that practically flipped her inside out and positioned herself for a submission move Damian had been working on with her. Almost identical to a sharpshooter but with a slightly different leg position, Y/N locked Candace into the hold and put all of the pressure on her back. From there, it was only a matter of seconds before Candace tapped and Y/N was announced as the winner. 

She dropped Candace back down onto the mat and smiled as she caught her breath; Y/N didn’t even realize that her partners had made their way back over to Brooks in the crowd and immediately began to attack him. Brooks didn’t even have enough time to defend himself, as Damian lifted him over the barricade and they started to kick him while he was on the ground. “What are you doing?” Y/N yelled from the ring, watching as Finn picked Brooks up and threw him into the ring for everyone to see what they were doing.  “Step aside, Princess. He needs to be taught a lesson.” Rhea warned, stepping in front of Y/N as if to block her from getting to Brooks. But Y/N was small and quick, so she was able to get around Rhea and stand between Brooks and the other members of the group. “Don’t hurt him, okay? He didn’t do anything!” She begged, her hands up and Brooks gently reaching out to hold her ankle as a way of thanking her. 

The four of them were fuming. Finn was the first to speak up as he watched what was going on. “Remember what we told you, Y/N.” He warned softly. Brooks began to slowly get himself back to his feet and stood behind Y/N, a gentle hand on her waist this time. “Think about what’s best for you. Think of all we’ve done for you.” Finn said again. Dominik was already cracking his knuckles at the sight of someone else touching their girl, and steam was coming from Damian’s ears. No one touched their girl, and she was only making them more upset the longer she went without making a decision. 

Y/N looked back and forth between Brooks and The Judgement Day. Finn was right; the four of them had done so much for her and every day showed how much they truly cared about her even if some of their actions were flawed. They took her under their wing when barely anyone else in the company gave a shit about her. But on the other hand, Brooks had always served as the person she could confide in when she was struggling. He was the first person who made her feel beautiful in and outside of the ring. But where was he when she needed someone to stand up for her in NXT? Where was Brooks when Y/N doubted herself and debated leaving this company? She was stuck between two parts of her life, and they were all expecting her to make her decision. 

As the crowd roared around them, telling Y/N what decision to make, she slowly turned her back to The Judgement Day and wrapped her arms around Brooks’s shoulders in a tight hug. Y/N buried her face in his neck as he picked her up, his body relaxing into hers and holding her as tight as he could. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” He said in her ear as they slowly stepped away from the four (clearly pissed) individuals in the ring. Brooks even put his hat back on her head like they always did when she won matches; he was just happy to see Y/N was picking the right side. 

However, he had no clue what was coming his way. 

Brooks gently placed Y/N back on her feet and kissed her forehead before glaring at The Judgement Day from over her shoulder. He didn’t even say another word to them, even though they were already hopping out of the ring and climbing underneath it to find whatever weapons they could. Brooks protectively put Y/N behind him, watching Damian and Finn who had stayed in the ring and started to slowly move closer to the two of them while Rhea and Dominik tossed a couple chairs into the ring. Y/N being behind Brooks was the perfect opportunity for her to make it clear which side she was on, because she quickly dropped to her knees and delivered a low blow to Brooks. 

Y/N’s four partners immediately began to smile at her; Rhea was dying of laughter, pointing at Brooks as he fell to the canvas holding his manhood. Y/N looked down at him, his hat still on her head, and her own sadness and anger written all over her face at the decision she’d made. She had to prove herself to her partners, and that meant trusting them and their plan for her. Once Brooks was back on the ground the boys began to attack him again, and this time Dominik pulled Y/N into a hug as they watched. At one point when Brooks got up on his knees to hopefully defend himself, Rhea delivered a chair shot to his back. 

The four of them turned to Y/N once they all had a turn giving Brooks a piece of their mind. Damian held out a chair to her and smiled. “Finish it off, princesa. End it.” He told her. And while Y/N didn’t immediately take the chair, she eventually did and walked in a circle around Brooks’s writhing body. “Where were you when I needed you?” Y/N asked Brooks as she looked down at him. “You didn’t care about me. You never did.” The look on Brooks’s face said otherwise, but Y/n knew she needed to end this. She looked at each of her partners before lifting the chair up and delivering the harshest chair shot she could manage to Brooks’s upper body. 

She dropped the chair before taking off Brooks’s hat and dropping it onto his body, wiping away the one singular tear that had rolled down her cheek. The Judgement Day rolled out of the ring five deep, Damian pulling Y/N to his chest as they walked up the ramp to go backstage and Rhea continuing to taunt Brooks from a distance. They were all proud of Y/N and she was proud of herself, but the next step of this process was grieving the relationships she had to let go of in order to follow the plan. While The Judgement Day was prepared for that to happen, Y/N had no clue what was about to happen. 

[aealzx]

“Augustine-,” Don called in a mix of fear and warning as the blaster took aim, picking up his bo and reflexively rushing forward to at the very least act as a bodily shield if it came to it. But he wasn’t faster than the pulse of energy crashing into the back of Donnie’s shoulder, shattering the turbine and knocking him forward to the ground. Being almost directly under the source of the anti mystic energy now, Donnie could only give a strangled half scream that cut off and curled around himself, trying to smother his pounding head to get away from the crippling migraine. He didn’t even notice Augustine coming to stand near him, holding a small handgun pointed at him with her free hand.

“... Not going to elaborate on that, Donatello?” Augustine asked, watching as Don stopped where he was as soon as the gun was drawn, daring him to continue his warning. “You’ve continued to harass me, and caused irreparable damage to not only my research, but also my facility, and my employees. For weeks. I think it’s only fair that for once I get to claim what I’m after. I’m the one who brought these two to this dimension. Therefore they’re mine to contro-”

The monologue of twistedly justified complaints and demands from Augustine was cut off by an armored leg colliding with the side of her head, the handgun clattering to the floor along with her unconscious body. “Surprise, bitch!” Leo belted in a moment of uncharacteristic language acting as an outlet for his myriad of conflicting emotions. He had just escaped being captive, ran through too many rooms of people pulling guns on him with only blinking lights to guide him, and then came into a room with a lunatic holding a gun at a collapsed teenager. Mikey could only respond to the abrupt swing in the situation by belting out a short laugh, flopping onto his back once again, but this time in relief. Raphael just grinned with a mild snort, scooping Lil Mikey up into a cradle and finally leaving his hiding spot. The three brothers had all seen Leo sprinting through the smoke, but hadn’t reacted so they wouldn’t give Augustine any hints that he was there. The choice of words from their frazzled brother had caught them all off guard though.

The unusual behavior didn’t last long. When Don rushed over to the mystic nullifier to disable it, Leo dropped to his knees next to Donnie, hands hovering towards him. “Hey… can you hear me?” he asked softly, not wanting to cause the kid any more throbbing in his apparently already miserable brain. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when Donnie cracked his eyes open to look up at him after the abhorrent machine was turned off. But the breath caught in his lungs and he had to quickly lean away when Donnie’s hand flung up towards his face, an aggressive, snarling hiss escaping the smaller form. “Woah- that’s new,” Leo muttered, momentarily surprised at the sound. He couldn’t blame Donnie for reacting that way, especially after getting a better look at his pale face, shaking form, and hearing his ragged breaths. “I’m here to help. It’s okay-” Leo assured, reaching out again after shaking his head slightly to Don to keep him from approaching and potentially making the teen feel trapped.

Donnie had shoved himself upright, but hissed again when he noticed Leo’s hands moving towards him, pulling away. “Don’t….-kng touch me,” he half slurred, voice failing and apparently forcing an enormous amount of effort into talking, swinging a hand to awkwardly try and swat Leo away again.

Leo’s brows furrowed, unsure of how to react. His first thought was to just pull the kid close and comfort him, but he didn’t seem to want any contact at all. Was he hurting? He looked more dizzy and exhausted than in pain. Leo wasn’t sure what use repeating himself would be in this situation. And he also wasn’t used to kids refusing help when they were in such a state. He could see the budding tears in the teens eyes, so Leo knew he was at his limit. Yet he was also refusing to back down. As though he didn’t think there was actually anyone there to help him.

 Pursing his lips, Leo rapidly considered ideas and discarded them, feeling they would get the wrong response. After swatting him away Donnie’s hands had remained awkwardly in the air. But he was also swaying unsteadily, his gaze at nothing as he was apparently trying to collect himself enough to move. Or do something. It was a complete guess, but Leo took a gander and very gently moved his hands to loop his knuckles underneath Donnie’s shaking fingers. He didn’t grip Donnie’s hands in any manner, nor tried to move them. Just gave him somewhere to rest his limbs, and hopefully give him comforting physical contact and some sort of support that he had control over.

The touch caused Donnie to gasp, and flinch away slightly. But to Leo’s relief he didn’t pull away completely, or lash out. Just sat, staring at the hands his fingers were resting on in non comprehending confusion. His half focused eyes blinked at odd intervals, and fingers flexed experimentally while Leo remained in his chosen position, face an open book of worry.

After an uncomfortable stretch of motionless silence between them, Leo took another risk to speak up again. “...Can I take you to your brother?”

When Donnie’s gaze lifted to him with a squinted, unfocused stare, Leo slowly moved his head to look where Raphael was standing with Lil Mikey cradled carefully in his arms. Donnie’s gaze followed his, and when he saw Lil Mikey he drew a shuddering breath, leaning forward so far Leo thought he was going to fall over. But he dared not move yet, even as Donnie’s hand left his to weakly reach out towards Lil Mikey, the younger brother’s name a bare mumble of broken sounds.

“It’s okay Dee. They’re safe,” Mikey spoke softly, his concern for Donnie making it a little easier to ignore his throbbing arm and burning lungs.

Donnie didn’t seem to outwardly respond, but his gaze grew heavy as his eyes started to flutter, and form started to sag. Leo was afraid to startle him again, so forced himself to remain motionless until Donnie obviously collapsed. Only then did Leo reach his hands up to catch him, gently pulling him close to rest against his chest. “... I’m going to pick you up and take you to your brother now, okay?” he asked, even though he wasn’t sure if Donnie was still conscious, but he figured it was better to continue telling him what he was doing.

When he didn’t get a reaction, Leo just adjusted his grip on Donnie, scooping his arms under Donnie’s legs and easily hefting him up off the floor. As he rose to his feet Don took that as clearance to rush over, resting a palm on Donnie’s cheek before touching fingertips to his neck. “Slight fever, weak pulse…,” Don muttered, then pressed a finger against his headset while following Leo over to the rest of the group. “April, everyone is accounted for. Can you lead us out, and look up the video feed for the other Dontatello and send it to my phone? I need to see what they did…”

It wasn’t a comforting thing to hear from the ones that had rescued them, and as soon as Donnie was brought close enough Lil Mikey reached out his uninjured hand to quickly grab Donnie’s limp hand. At first he was worried he wouldn’t get a response, memories of Donnie’s motionless hand and unresponsive sleep coming to his mind. But after feeling Donnie’s fingers curl weakly around his, Lil Mikey gave a hesitant smile, giving Donnie’s hand a small squeeze back while allowing his cheek to rest against Raphael’s shoulder.

Watching the small exchange, Raphael was tempted to slap Augustine awake so he could give her a screaming lecture. But instead he motioned for Don to take the lead, making sure Mikey was still near him as well. “... Let’s get out of here,” Raphael directed, adjusting his position to be next to Leo. He didn’t want to force the two teens to have to let go of each other’s hands if he could help it. But then again that was only part of the reason to stick to his newly rescued brother’s side. Leo could only offer him a quick smile, and soft thanks before the worry returned to his features.

___________________

Previous Next

___________________

I was spamming Nier piano music while editing the writing on this one. TvT so good.

The next part is already up, cause this is about where it would tie in with Rise Leon, Raph and April. But I've caught up on what I have typed out, so the next part after that might be delayed again XDD I work in spurts |D

Also I took out Augustine quickly, I know, but this is supposed to be a short project, so I didn't want to wear myself out on her. Especially since she's just an insert plot device villain ¯\_(979)_/¯

Random coban tip I learned from my momma: if coban is wrapped in a figure 8 around the arm instead of straight around the elbow it can still apply enough pressure on the blood draw site without making it feel like you're squeezing your arm in half when you bend it ;P

[raffaeleitlodeo]

La cannabis light è fuori legge, è passato l’emendamento del governo.

Contro ogni buonsenso e logica.

Di fatto, considerare la #cannabis light a quella illegale non è un segnale di lotta alla droga ma un segnale di assoluta incapacità di comprendere le cose (la scienza in primis), il colpo di grazia a un settore che produce milioni e che occupa 11mila persone e una cortesia alla malavita organizzata.

Da domani 11 mila disoccupati in più, solo per far contenti 4 analfabeti che non hanno nemmeno capito di cosa si parla.

Di contro gli operatori della cannabis light dovrebbero farsi spiegare dai balneari o dai tassisti come si possano recuperare 11 mila posti di lavoro perduti.

E soprattutto chiedere alle industrie del tabacco, dell'alcool e del vino come hanno fatto, con i loro veleni, a diventare legali e ad avere ministri alle loro manifestazioni.

I danni che fece al mondo Harry Jacob Anslinger*, sono nulla in confronto a quelli che sta facendo la nostra politica per ideologia.

Non c'è un motivo, uno che sia uno, uno solo che possa giustificare questa sciocchezza siderale. E se ve lo raccontano e ci credete, siete semplicemente complici.

Bruno Pagnanelli, Facebook

*Harry Jacob Anslinger è stato un funzionario e diplomatico statunitense, ispettore del Bureau of Prohibition durante il proibizionismo degli alcolici e direttore per trent'anni, dal 1930 al 1962, del Federal Bureau of Narcotics.

[Nota di Raffaele Itlodeo, fonte: Wikipedia]

[ariesmusingz]

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ╱ white noise ( deluxe ) sentence starters pt 1 ( created using lyrics from pvris' white noise deluxe album. feel free to adjust to fit your muse. )

i know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side

right now i can't be what you want

just give it time

if you and i can make it through the night

if you and i can keep our love alive

we'll find we can meet in the middle

bodies and souls collide

dance in the moonlight when all the stars align for you and i

i know it's cold when we're apart

i hate to feel this die

you can't give me what i want

for now we stay so far til our lonely limbs collide

i can't keep you in these arms

i'll keep you in my mind

we stay so far

can we meet in the middle?

i want the world to believe that there's a light inside of me

it's time that i'll come clean

i'm not what i seem

some would say i'm possessed

i'll confess

i've just been obsessed with life and death and emptiness

can't you see all of the change in me?

you took all these starving limbs

tried to see what they cold be

i thought i would be something

i thought you'd complete me

that you'd erase all the pain that i felt in my brain

you filled my heart with love then you'd fill the voids above

now you see that didn't change a thing

what do you want from me?

i'm empty

this isn't violence

this is just a war in my head

i give it time but it never seems to end

i feel a fire in the back of my throat

so let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke

don't you try to run right now cause baby, i could burn you down

you make your way into my veins

course right through my limbs and dig your way into my brain

int he second that you walk into a room i can't help myself from the things that you do

you're killing me right now

i think it's time you burn me down

i love the things we do when it's just me and you

i'm burning up

you're just a ghost of blissful feelings

a cloud of smoke that i keep breathing

i'm losing you to the games in my mind

i see your face

now it's changed, shape shifting

don't wanna open my eyes

you give me something to talk about

i know it's chemicals that make me cling to you

i need a miracle to get away form you

i'm not spiritual

i think you're a saint

i think you're an angel

you give me something to talk about that's not the shit in my head

you're a miracle

transparent hands around my neck

i love the way you let me breathe instead

take in your chemicals

you're a glimpse of bliss

a little taste of heaven

i need a miracle to bring me back to you

i know you're gone now but i still wait for you

i still wait for you

i feel you in these walls

you're a cold air creepin' in

chill me to the bones and skin

i heard you down the hall but it's vacant when i'm looking in

who let you in?

you walk around like you own the place

you never say anything

i caught you walking straight through my walls

guess it was all my fault

i think i let you in

never thought that i would feel like this

such a mess when i'm in your presence

i've had enough

think you've been making me sick

gotta get you out of my system

it's my house and i think it's time to get out

it's my soul

it isn't yours anymore

i think it's time to get out

you're at my bedroom door

heard your footsteps on the floor

closer than ever before

now you're in my room

under sheets, avoiding you

i can hear you pace

circling my bed frame

we're face to face

head on my pillow case

darling, you can't stay

haven't you heard?

i'm not yours anymore

chill me to my bones and skin

you've got it all but you've got it all wrong

you don't know

you're a poor unfortunately soul

i know you make it seem like you feel whole

you put on a faith facade

think you're holy when you're not

i hate to break it to you baby, but you're simply lost

you can right all the wrongs just to feel like you belong

simply calling out sings don't bring you closer to god

you're just a ghost at most

a set of empty bones

searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole

you're all alone

you can't control where your body lets you go

you say i've got it all wrong

there's no way that there's weight in the words that you preach

when you're claiming your faith and you contradict your speech

i sit here and listen to your tongue and cheek

i know that when you sit and pray, you're only praying for keeps

you can't control where your body lets you go

you're shallow and empty and filled with regret

i think that chest must be heavy from that cross on your neck

you only wear cause you're wary of what comes next after your death

don't think i didn't notice

don't think i didn't know

[abr]

Le Olimpiadi di cui nessuno può parlare male, se no arriva l’internazionale macroniana a spaccarti le palle e darti del putiniano. 

È agosto, fa caldo, le redazioni sono piene di stagisti che fanno confusione sul sesso e gli opinionisti progressisti scrivono i loro articoli con le palle in acqua e un cocktail in mano. Solo così si spiega il delirio complottista di Repubblica & Co. di ieri, a cui degli sport olimpici frega tanto quanto a me frega del calcio femminile: la prima pagina di ieri era un’orgia di cazzate buone per una festa dell’Unità, anzi dell’Unit*: “il ko dei diritti” perché un’italiana abbandona un incontro contro un’intersex, i baci della judoka alla fidanza “davanti alla premier” come se fossero la risposta alle polemiche sulla pugile algerina, lo stop alla cannabis light.

Ma il capolavoro è dentro, roba da far impallidire terrapiattisti e seguaci di Qanon: “Dai russi a Elon Musk, la campagna organizzata dall’internazionale di destra per screditare i Giochi”. Ginori e Foschini parlano di “fasciosfera” e non gli scappa neppure da ridere. Il succo è che è vietato criticare le Olimpiadi organizzate dall’antifascista in chief Emmanuel Macron, che fa tutto benissimo, cambia il sesso degli atleti con la sola imposizione delle mani e ha ripulito la Senna pisciandoci dentro.

E se qualcuno critica è perché glielo hanno detto Putin, Musk e la Rowling (fossi in Aldo Cazzullo mi farei qualche domanda, a questo punto). 

Io me ne sbatto allegramente i coglioni, penso a tenere in fresco la bionda e faccio il conto alla rovescia per l’inizio della Premier League: sabato prossimo c’è il Community Shield, e quello dopo comincia il campionato più bello del mondo. Anche se comunque il calcio non mi è mai piaciuto.

grande Jack O'Malley, via https://www.ilfoglio.it/sport/2024/08/03/news/ma-e-vietato-parlare-male-delle-olimpiadi-di-macron--6818518/

[me-soltanto-me]

Voglio te, solo te

Voglio te, solo te!

Lascia che il mio cuore

lo ripeta senza fine.

Tutti i desideri che mi distraggono

di giorno e di notte

in sostanza sono fasulli e vani.

Come la notte tiene nascosta nel buio

l'ansia di luce

così nel profondo del mio cuore

senza ch'io me ne renda conto

un grido risuona:

Voglio te, solo te!

Come la tempesta cerca la quiete

mentre ancora lotta contro la quiete

con tutte le sue forze

così io mi ribello e lotto

contro il tuo amore

ma grido che voglio te, solo te.

I want you, only you

I want you, just you!

Let my heart

Repeat it endlessly.

All the desires that distract me

Day and night

In essence they are fake and vain.

How the night keeps hidden in the dark

The anxiety of light

So deep in my heart

Without me realizing it

A cry resonates:

I want you, just you!

How the storm seeks the quiet

While still fighting against the quiet

With all his strength

So I rebel and fight

Against your love

But I scream that I want you, only you.

Rabindranath Tagore

[yesthisisanotherphotographyblog]

Torino - souvenir della protesta contro il G7 (29/04/2024)

ENG

Last night I took part in the protest organized by students organizations and other political groups of Turin against the G7. The police were merciless. They used hoses on us, tear gas and beat us with truncheons. While the protest died down and we went to gather at a meeting point I looked at the ground and saw a pool of blood. It was dark, the only light was an orange tint that came from the street lamps, and still this blood had a deep red colour.

In the rush of things I couldn't take a picture and this morning I came back to photograph it. This was all that remained.

ITA

Ieri notte ho partecipato alla protesta organizzata dai gruppi studenteschi e dai centri sociali di Torino contro il G7. La polizia è stata spietata. Hanno usato gli idranti, i lacrimogeni e ci hanno manganellati. Mentre la protesta finiva e andavamo a riunirci in un punto di incontro ho guardato a terra e ho visto una pozza di sangue. Era buio, l'unica luce era quella arancione-giallastra dei lampioni, ma il sangue era comunque rosso scuro.

Nella fretta non ho fatto una foto ma sono tornato questa mattina per fotografarlo. Questo è tutto quello che restava.

[tigers-eyes-26]

Aftermath Chapter 2

The front door of the apartment opened. The boys’ mama announced to Peach, “Benvenuta a Casa nostra. Welcome to our home!” A little girl with a pink hat ran out of the kitchen. She looked behind the group of relatives expectantly. Her face fell when it was only Princess Peach who had come to the house.

“Where’s the gorilla?! The giant turtles!? Or the mushroom people?!”

“They decided to stay behind.” The Princess explained.

“Aw nuts!” the girl crossed her arms disappointed. She returned to the Kitchen.

The Princess raised her eyebrow at the exchange.

“That’s just Marilyn our baby cousin, once she gets to know you more, she will think you are cool.”

Mario and Luigi hung their hats and took off their gloves. Peach took off her gloves too. She felt so overdressed. In the living room was their Nonno.

“No. no?”

“Ah no, hehe Nonno. It means grandfather.” Luigi explained.

Everyone in the family stopped to give him a kiss on the cheek before they dispersed to the kitchen and other places in the house. He was watching TV, the news blared loudly at him. He hardly acknowledged the greetings of the family. Peach wondered if he could even see with his bushy white eyebrows. Luigi turned the TV off and yelled into his Nono’s ear. “QUESTA E PEACH!”

The elderly man swatted Luigi, “non imprecare contro di me!” he chastised.

“NO! IL SUO NOME E PEACH!” Luigi gestured to Peach.

“Le Ragazza in bianco?”

“SI!” The brothers both exclaimed.

The elderly man raised his eyebrows and finally focused on what was going around him. He looked at Peach in her wedding dress with Mario at her side. Peach smiled and waved unsure if she should do anything else. The old man gestured at Mario incredulously. “Tis tai per sposare?? E NON ME L’HAI DETTO!?”  Peach jumped when the old man started to yell.

Mario waived both his hands to dismiss whatever his Nonno had said. “No! LEI E SOLO UN’AMICA!”

the old man scoffed. “Amica…” he gestured for Peach to come closer. She did. Nonno grabbed her face and pulled her closer so he could see her. Peach squeaked in surprise. “Bellissima.” He commented. Once his inspection was done, he looked at Mario. “Faresti melglio a sposarla, nipote.” Mario rolled his eyes at his grandfather. The Patriarch of the family grabbed one of Peach’s hands and shook it heartily. “Benvenuta alla casa nostra!”

“Um…” she cleared her throat. “THANK YOU…. IT IS NICE TO MEET YOU!”

He gave her a smile and shooed them off to the dining room.

Peach leaned over to Mario. “Did he understand me?”

Mario smirked. “He knows English. He had to to get a job here. He used to be a boxing coach. He’s just old and doesn’t wanna anymore.”

Marie, their red-headed aunt rushed out of the kitchen into the dining room to meet Peach. “Cognata told me you need a change of clothes.” She eyed Peach up and down. “Yeah, you are about my size.” She took Peach by the arm and guided her upstairs. They passed a dark room, “That’s the boys room.” Then walked through another door. It had a queen bed and a pink twin bed. The red headed woman opened a closet and started to dig. Peach was loaned a simple light purple sundress. “I only wear this on Easter Sundays so you can borrow it.” She also was given some white and pink tennis shoes. “After having a kid, I hardly have time to go for a run.”

Coming down from the stairs Peach saw the brothers lying on the couch their Nonno nowhere to be seen. “Good” she thought “they need rest.”

Over dinner Peach was placed in between Mario and Luigi. There were questions fired back and forth. Peach wanted to know everything about this world and the family, and they wanted to get to know her and test her. With how much chatter was going on it was amazing that anyone finished their plate. But they did the food was just too good not to finish.

After dinner Mario tried to gather some plates. His mom stopped him. “No. no. no. three have done too much today. Off to bed with you!”

Peach was allowed to take a shower first, in the small bathroom that was in between Arthur’s family bedroom and the brother’s bedroom. She was loaned a large red T-shirt with Brooklyn written on the front and some gym shorts to sleep in.

Peach was given Marilyn’s bed. Marilyn would sleep with her mother and her father Arthur would sleep on the family room couch. Peach learned that on the third floor was the brother’s parent’s room, then Uncle Tony and Nonno shared a room. She was told it was because Tony and Nonno snored the loudest.  

It was all quite cozy and quaint. Peach thought about the brother’s family and about the many toads who had raised her. She thought about how the colors differed from her world and this one. She thought about how nothing floated in the air. There wasn’t any magic or power ups to help the people out of the crumbling houses. Her head was so full of thoughts that the buzzing lulled her asleep.

Princess Peach woke up to amazing smells. How long had she slept? Her surroundings were unfamiliar, but as she woke up more, she remembered the events of yesterday. She got dressed in the purple sundress and headed downstairs. Nonno was again set in front of the TV. She could hear someone cleaning dishes in the kitchen. In the dining room food was set out but no one was at the table. The rest of the family had probably gone off to work or school. She wondered how long she had slept.

“OH! Sit down Princessa. Eat!” The brother’s mom paused doing the dishes and came out with a kettle of hot water. “I didn’t know if you drink tea or coffee. I have both.”

“Thank you” Peach sat down. “Tea please.” The matriarch poured them both tea and sat down with Peach.

“Did you sleep good?”

“Yes, thank you for letting me into your house.”

“Well of course! Any friend of my boys is welcome here anytime….. except maybe Jimmy Rossi he’s a punk!”

Peach smiled thinking about the life the boys had before going down the warp pipe. Peach asked about their lives and their mother happily got out a photobook and gushed about them. About an hour into the enlightening conversation there was a creak indicating someone was coming down the stairs. Mario and Luigi sleepily joined the table. Their mother went to brew some coffee for them.

“Hey what have you got there?” Luigi commented on the book Peach held. She quickly held it up to her chest to hide its contents from the boys. Only the outside of the book had the words ‘Mario and Luigi’s Photos’

Mario slung his head back and placed his hands over his face. “MAAaaaa! Have you been sharing embarrassing stories again?!”

“The Princessa wanted to know how you two grew up!” She defended.

The family members went back and forth in Italian. Peach smiled and placed the photobook on her lap. She placed a hand on both the boys’ shoulders. “It’s ok I did ask. I won’t tell anyone about these stories.”

Mario pointed a finger at her. “If you tell DK I’m dead! He would never let me live it down!”

“I won’t tell DK I promise” she held up one hand while the other one over her heart.

“You can’t even tell Toad!”

Peach faltered a little. “But he would love to hear all about your childhood!”

“But he’s a motor mouth the whole kingdom would know by the end of the day!”

Peach held both her hands up in a diplomatic way. “How about you tell me the stories I can share. My toads will want to know about their new heroes after all.”

Mario slumped down and crossed his arms. “Fine.”

Peach took the photo book from her lap and laid it on the table so all could see.

They continued story telling as they cleaned up breakfast. The boys got ready for the day, they kissed their mom and Nonno goodbye and the three of them headed back to the disaster site.

Peach got an update from Toad and DK that the night was quiet. None of the surrendered army tried to escape and the first responders had gotten the last person out of the rubble. None tried to trespass the roped off area during the night.

The two then asked how Peaches night was. Toad was jumping up and down with excitement and DK wanted to know if their family was as embarrassing as Mario was. The only reply she could give them before diving back into her duties was “It was nice.”

The two groaned. “You gotta give us more than that Princess!”

She smiled. “Later maybe.” With that she walked toward one of the neighborhood leaders to ask how his people were doing.

----------

Author’s notes: Also sorry for the Italian I do not know Italian, I know Tagalog. If there is anything I need to change please let me know.

Chapter 1:

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Unita di Oggi giovedì, 12 settembre 2024

[donaruz]

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (2011 Remaster)

C'E' UNA LUCE CHE NON SI SPEGNA MAI - The Smiths

Portami fuori stanotte

Dove c'è musica e c'è gente

Giovane e viva

Guidando la tua auto

Mai e poi mai voglio tornarmene a casa

Perché non ne ho una

Non più

Portami fuori stanotte

Perché voglio vedere gente e

Voglio vedere la vita

Guidando la tua auto

Oh, ti prego non accompagnarmi a casa

Perché non è casa mia, è la loro

E io non sono più il benvenuto

E se un autobus a due piani

Si schiantasse contro di noi

Morire al tuo fianco

Sarebbe un modo celestiale di farla finita

E se un camion di dieci tonnellate

Ci uccidesse entrambi

Morire al tuo fianco

Beh, il piacere, il privilegio sarebbe tutto mio

Portami fuori stanotte

Portami da qualsiasi parte, non mi interessa

Non mi interessa, non mi interessa

E nel buio sottopassaggio

Ho pensato "Oh Dio, è finalmente giunta la mia occasione"

(Ma poi una strana paura si impadronì di me

E proprio non riuscii a chiederlo)

Portami fuori stanotte

Oh, portami da qualsiasi parte, non mi interessa

Non mi interessa, non mi interessa

Guidando la tua auto

Mai e poi mai voglio tornarmene a casa

Perché non ne ho una

Oh non ne ho una

E se un autobus a due piani

Si schiantasse contro di noi

Morire al tuo fianco

Sarebbe un modo celestiale di farla finita

E se un camion di dieci tonnellate

Ci uccidesse entrambi

Morire al tuo fianco

Beh, il piacere, il privilegio sarebbe tutto mio

Oh, c'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

C'è una luce e non si spegne mai

"There Is a Light That Never Goes Out" è un brano della band inglese The Smiths.

Originariamente contenuto nel terzo album, "The Queen Is Dead", nel 1987

il brano venne scelto dalla Virgin per essere pubblicato come singolo per il

mercato francese, e solo nel 1992, cinque anni dopo la separazione della

band, venne ripubblicato dalla WEA in tutto il resto del mondo,

riuscendo a raggiungere la posizione numero 23 della Official Singles

Atlantide

[mcl4r3n]

heyyy, first of all, i just wanna say that i absolutely adore your fics and i wanna thank you for all the amazing works you’ve put up on the internet <3 second, may i ask for 29 dando? (fun fact: your fics got both me and my gf into dando) thank you and i hope you’re having a great day <3

Wait wait wait this is so. THIS IS SO VERY. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 oh my god. You have NO IDEA how much of an honor it is that not just you but also your girlfriend got into Dando because of something I wrote? I will CRY on YOU BOTH. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words. I hope this (not so little) drabble is an adequate amount of a gift to express my gratitude for this ask 🥹🫶🩷

-

29 Dando “I never thought you could make such sweet noises.” - “Me neither…”

—•—

Between him and Daniel, Lando knows that there have been an entire orchestra's range of sounds that have left both their mouths.

He's well aware of his own high-pitched laughter when he loses control over his giggles; he's memorized the exact cadence of Daniel's loud guffaws. Hell, they're immortalized everywhere, including F1's official YouTube account where have compilations of pressers and "funniest moments."

He knows what they both sound like when they're happy, when they're angry, when they're gossiping under their breaths while some host prepares them for yet another one of those ridiculous drivers' entrances.

But Lando has absolutely no idea where the hell the sounds he just made came from. That is, the sounds that he makes when Daniel enters him for the very first time.

It should be mortifying. Daniel's so much more experienced at sleeping with men than he is, and by that, Lando means that Daniel is his first guy, and no amount of gay porn and heavy rutting and training his asshole with a metal butt plug could have prepared Lando for the overwhelming, full-body consumption that is feeling Daniel Ricciardo slide his dick into him and settle against his hips.

He's panting into Daniel's hair, his temple, his fingers clutched so tight against Daniel's deltoids that he wouldn't be surprised if he left finger-shaped bruises there later. It almost hurts, but it really only just skates the surface of it.

Everything else is a stretch, and he tries to see how he feels clenching around Daniel's girth, but that proves to be detrimental to Daniel's health, and subsequently, Lando's, too, because it makes Daniel's hips, which he was doing his best to hold in place while Lando adjusted to him, stutter and fuck into him like it's a reflex, and oh, oh fuck, that's good.

Lando honest-to-god mewls, his thighs spasming around Daniel's hips, his back arching, pleasure jolting electric through him better than any adrenaline rush from the lights going on out on the grid.

"M-move, Danny," is all Lando can manage before Daniel is pulling out halfway, and then slamming full force back into him.

Lando loses all sense of time, all sense of coherence. He learns, in such few, frantic minutes, the absolute batshit joy of having a hard cock pressing against his prostate, and Daniel learns the absolute batshit joy of anal with someone who has never done anal before.

Their kisses feel less like kisses and more like shared breathing, panting against each other's mouths while they make all the noise they want because Lando has thick walls and neither of them have a race to drive at for the next three weekends.

Lando is crying now, he can feel it, consumed by the push of Daniel's body into his, consumed with the need to take Daniel in completely, to not give him any more space than necessary to just come back and fuck into him. He catches snatches of Daniel's litany of words, dirty and desperate.

He calls Lando "baby" and that shouldn't feel nearly as good as it does, to be held like this, equally like a precious doll and a free-use whore.

Sweat falls from Daniel's forehead to Lando's lips and even that, Lando goes crazy for. Daniel's working up a sweat because of him. Daniel's losing control because of him. Daniel's going to come because of him.

Lando's hearing goes out when he feels Daniel's calloused hand wrap around his dick and jerk him off. He comes after a few strokes, and he feels the mess between them, feels the coolness that touches the skin of his back because his spine has curved concave against his mattress.

He wraps his legs around Daniel's waist and refuses to let him pull out, so Daniel braces himself over Lando with both his elbows on either side of Lando's head and pushes in hard, and finishes inside him.

The comedown is slow, syrupy in the summer afternoon. Daniel flops on top of him, breathless, panting.

“I never thought—" Daniel starts before cutting off to take a breath."—you could make such sweet noises.”

"Me neither…” Lando's tongue feels too large for his mouth. He might actually be dickmatized.

"Dickmatized?" Daniel laughs, sounding like he just ran a sprint but is too busy laughing to take a proper inhale.

"I wasn't supposed to say that out loud," Lando says, closing his eyes and shoving his hand in Daniel's face to shut him up.

"Baby, if that is what you always sound like in bed, I want you to say every single thought and make every single sound you wanna make, got it?"

Lando has to suppress his eye-roll at his ex-teammate, though "boyfriend" would be the more appropriate title.

His face is burning, though. He figures that's enough of a reply for Danny at the moment.

[sciatu]

IL CREPUSCOLO A SIRACUSA

Il tramonto ad Ortigia, vive di leggeri contrasti, come nel colorarsi di rosa delle antiche case e dei palazzi rivestiti così di una parvenza di quiete e pace contro la rombante fretta dei turisti che cercano un parcheggio, o di ciarliere comitive colorate che seguono sul cellulare, strade serpeggianti verso i punti più belli dell’isola o verso i tanti ristoranti che riempiono vicoli e cortili. È un contrasto che vive del lento scurirsi del cielo e dell’accendersi dei piccoli vicoli, del vociare dei ragazzi e delle silenziose forme statuarie dei grandi alberi, un contrasto che trovo nei balconi che raccolgono l’ultima luce contro il vociare sereno ed allegro delle famiglie sedute nei vicoli, nel veloce cambiare della luce del sole riflesso sulle alte finestre contro il pallore ingrigito dei vicoli bui, dell’andare e venire dei camerieri con le mani ingombre di profumate pietanze e nell’immobile nell’attesa del desiderato pranzo, nel passeggio lento ed intimo delle copie che raccolgono passionale amore nell’eleganza compita dei palazzi contro l’indifferente sonno dei bambini distesi in traballanti passeggini, nella musica tradizionale siciliana allegra e travolgente che scioglie la freddezza dei turisti nordici. Contrasto che si perde nelle strade principali affollate e luminose e nel silenzio dei vicoli dove i padroni sono gatti curiosi, contrasto che rivive nel silenzio degli imponenti cortili e nella baraonda dei ragazzi che giocano a calcio con una lattina di coca. Un contrasto che si scioglie nelle discussioni oziose delle coppie mentre si aspettano i piatti da consumare, nel sospiro leggero della brezza che scivola tra i vicoli silenziosi, nell’odore del mare che riempie le strade deserte e la barocca bellezza delle chiese. Anche noi ci fermiamo in un buon ristorante così che il sapore della notte ormai prossima si impreziosisca con il sapore dei calamari farciti da pinoli e uva passa e la fragranza fiorita di un vino bianco siciliano.

The sunset in Ortigia thrives on light contrasts, such as in the pink coloring of the ancient houses and buildings thus clad in a semblance of quiet and peace against the roaring rush of tourists looking for a parking space, or of chatty colored groups following on their cell phones winding roads towards the most beautiful points of the island or towards the many restaurants that fill alleys and courtyards. It is a contrast that thrives on the slow darkening of the sky and the lighting up of the small alleys, the shouting of the boys and the silent statuesque forms of the large trees, a contrast that I find in the balconies which collect the last light against the serene and cheerful shouting of the families seated in the alleys, in the rapid change of sunlight reflected on the high windows against the graying pallor of the dark alleys, in the comings and goings of the waiters with their hands full of perfumed dishes and in the motionless waiting for the desired lunch, in the slow and intimate walk of the copies that collect passionate love in the refined elegance of the palaces against the indifferent sleep of children lying in rickety strollers, in the cheerful and overwhelming traditional Sicilian music that melts the coldness of Nordic tourists. A contrast that is lost in the crowded and bright main streets and in the silence of the alleys where the owners are curious cats, a contrast that relives in the silence of the imposing courtyards and in the hubbub of the boys playing soccer with a can of coke. A contrast that dissolves in the idle discussions of the couples while they wait for the dishes to be eaten, in the light sigh of the breeze that slips through the silent alleys, in the smell of the sea that fills the deserted streets and the baroque beauty of the churches. We too stop in a good restaurant so that the flavor of the coming night is embellished with the flavor of squid stuffed with pine nuts and raisins and the flowery fragrance of a Sicilian white wine.