#So I think that since I assume you're keeping it private and just using it for personal purposes (ie not selling the pictures or anything)-

[snzblrs-confessional]

sometimes if I’m attracted to a character/celebrity I’ll edit a photo of them to give them a red nose, dark circles under their eyes, and anything else to make them look unwell. I kinda hate that I have a whole collection of these that I use to get off to sometimes

Thou art forgiven, blessed be. May your soul snz and prosper, may your itches be many and your false starts few 🙏 as we say in the snurch: If it looks strange but it works, then it's not strange. May the snz be with you.

(In regards to my take on fanmade content of real people (rpf, edits, etc), see notes. Anon is not in the wrong imo, just wanted to touch while we were on the subject.)

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Rude Kryptonian

Danny Fenton is prepared for a lot of things when Vlad calls his parents and asks to take his godson for a summer. Things would have gone differently if Danny's hero business hadn't made him a "troubled" kid. He was failing a lot of his classes, sleeping or ditching most classes and not to mention all the random injuries.

They were worried he was becoming some kind of gang member. (It hurt a little they assumed the worst of him and not worried that something bad was happening).

His dad was convinced that Vlad could somehow set him on the correct path.

Now Vlad had moved on from trying to be his stepdad and forced Danny to be his son, but that didn't mean Danny liked him. Or that he could forget what he put him through.

So he was less than happy to pack his bags and be driven to the airport to board Vlad's private jet. His parents lectured him the whole time, warning him to not be a bother to his uncle Vlad, and to behave. Jazz just looked anxious, practically begging her parents to change their mind.

They did not listen, and Danny was thrown onto the jet after getting past security. He was not surprised the plane went off course due to "mysterious" wealther a hour into the trip.

It was like they purposely flew into a thunderstorm, complete with harsh winds and rain. His plane crashed landed in the middle of nowhere thirty minutes later.

He was less surprised he was the only human on board - Vlad had tricked him once before with a ghost pilot. Why not again?- But at least no one, but Danny was hurt.

Jeez, couldn't Vlad think of anything more original? Then again, the definition of insanity is doing something over and over again, expecting different results.

Danny sat in his chair, having escaped the crash with only a few scrapes thanks to his powers, fuming at his parents and Vlad. He was so distracted he did not notice the hurried rescue team that surrounded the broken metal.

He did however notice the man who ripped off the top part of the jet, floating in the air in the most ridiculous outfit he's ever seen.

"Are you alright, son?"

"Are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look at you. Look at what you're wearing." Danny gestures to the stranger. He ignores how the stranger's blue eyes start to glow. "You can't honestly tell me you're alright in the head looking like that. "

The man frowns "You're not human"

"How dare you! I have rights!"

The stranger fumbles, looking suprised "no. No, I meant you're like me- a alien"

"I'm not illegal! I have papers!"

"Not that kind of alien-! I'm Kryptonian!" The man floats down to Stanford beside Danny's seat. He reaches out to carefully ripe away the metal trapping him. "I think you may be as well, based on your biology"

Danny squints "How do you know my biology?"

"I used my x-ray vision to-!" Danny gasps, reaching out to slap the man across the face before covering his body with his hands. The man seems more startled by the fact that he was able to push his face to the side and then the actual slap.

"Stanger danger! Creep! Fruit loop!" Danny cries, turning intangible and flying out of the wreckage. "Stay away from me!"

He flies at his top speed, ignoring the call from the man. He can feel him following, and yes, he may be faster than Danny, but he's also solid and visible. Danny uses his powers to his advantage, losing him after a twenty minute chase.

It's only after three days of trying to get home that Danny realizes he's futher away from home than he originally planned. As in an entirely different world? It feels like it since Amity Park doesn't exist, much less, his friends and family.

Thankfully, he finds a nice little city that reminds him of the ghost zone for him to rest in. His new neighbor is filled with colorful characters, and there always seems to ve something happening keeping him on his toes.

Maybe this summer won't be so bad after all.

Meanwhile, Clark is panicking that a new Kryptonian had fallen from the sky, crashing landing near Ma and Pa's place only to have the boy disrespect him and escape. Now it's a race against time to find him before it's too late.

Also he was a little mean.

But where would he go?

Gotham. Danny is in Gotham, and he's yelling at people who keep trying to spray chemicals at him. He's having the time of his life.

[machveil]

Heheheh

Loser! Konig when after the soldiers pull their prank on him you reverse the roles.

You catch him alone (or invite him somewhere private under a guise) and try to confront him about what happened. He doesn't want to talk about it and tries to avoid the subject. Looking like a scolded schoolboy hunched in his seat, feeling hot embarrassment swell in his throat as he looks at the floor to avoid eye contact.

He hears you get up and walk behind him and assumes you're leaving. Of course you are, he fucked up, he never should have ever assumed someone could like him and now look at how he's embarrassed himself. It's probably for the best that you leave before you see his tears-

Your hand snakes around his throat to tilt his head back the same way he did to you so he can look at you standing above him. Breath hitching.

You scold him for not making eye contact. "Can't even look me in the eye? Acting so shy now, surely you remember being so bold before."

He leans into your hand, eyes rolling back and lips parting in euphoria if he presses against you hard enough maybe you'll leave a mark

He's so out of it he fails to react when your hand leaves his neck and only notices when your thumb swipes some drool leaking from his lips and presses on his tongue.

He has to blink himself back to reality just in time to hear you tell him to find you when he plans on being anything more than a coward as you leave the room.

oh my god, I didn’t think this could get any better— (in reference to this post and the follow up)

CW: light choking, humiliation, König gets hard twice, back at it with the Loser!König vibes

he really couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge you. he wanted to, but that burning guilt in his chest always clawed up his throat when he caught a glimpse of you. wrapped a hand around your neck in a drunken stupor

he could only apologize so many times before fleeing - never letting you get a word in. if he did, he was sure all you’d say was how disgusting he was, a pervert. someone you considered a friend, sneaking up on you, condescending tone as he asked you to speak a language you didn’t know. ‘Ich liebe dich’ - he can hardly believe he asked you to say that

and yet, that confused look in your eyes as he held you? he can’t stop thinking about it. it’s burned into his mind, a blessing and a curse - you looked cute, brows knit and lips a little pouty with concern… but that shame would come back to gnaw at his mind. a double edged sword, but that expression of yours outweighs his guilt at night behind closed doors

he shouldn’t be turned on over what happened - but in that moment you looked so helpless to him. you aren’t, you’re still a soldier, but in his twisted mind you looked fragile. he was embarrassed when he fled, red hot anger in his chest from being lied to, but oh so achingly hard when he reached his room that night

he was used to hiding under his sheets, used to bucking into his fist as he imagined you, but this time? the shame and guilt eating at his mind - instead of picturing you under him, all König could think about was you calling him gross, vile for assuming you’d like him. cheeks flushed with humiliation, because that’s what it was to him. humiliated that he’d bought into a lie, humiliated that he was getting off on what happened

a long night, alone in his dark room moaning - your voice degrading him echoing in his head. he couldn’t say when he fell asleep, but when he woke up that morning he decided it’d be better to apologize again, repeatedly, and leave. leave you alone, pine from afar, and keep himself company at night with thoughts of you

and that’s what he did - it’s been a few days since then. as large as he was, he was surprisingly good at evading you. it’s difficult for him when you have to see each other, the forced proximity twisting his gut with nerves. he missed the butterflies you gave him, the warmth that bloomed in his chest. he still thinks about you smiling at him, a small distraction as he walks away from the training grounds, unaware of you coming up behind him

“König! Hey, come here for a second.”, he’s sure he’s just hearing something, his heads so caught up with guilt that your voice is just playing in his mind. but when he feels a hand grab his wrist, he looks down and sees you, his blood running cold as you look up at him, “Just wait a second, please?”

all you get are icy eyes staring down at you - his flushed face hidden behind his hood, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. all he can muster is a curt nod, his throat dry as he tries to breathe in, “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me and— well, I think we just need to talk about what happened, okay?”

you’re met with silence, hand falling from his wrist as he stares. you’re about to turn around, call this a lost cause and try again later when he speaks, “Okay.”. his voice was strained, small when it was usually a little louder. it made your heart twist hearing him like that - even if he was reserved and didn’t speak much, he’d still carry confidence when he spoke to you. he did before

a beat passes before you crack a small smile at him, a quick nod in the direction of the barracks. when you turn to walk König finds himself frozen for a moment. why would he say okay? maybe he just wanted to bite the bullet and get this over with subconsciously, let you yell at him and be mad - he wouldn’t blame you

wrapped his too big, too calloused, too rough hand around you - that was the only image in his head. he could still see it when he closed his eyes - he could still feel your skin on his if he focused. it made him feel dirty, it made him feel— “König?”

he’s brought back out of his mind when he hears your voice. paused a few feet ahead of him, waiting for him to follow. and, like the lovesick fool he is, he does what he always does - he follows you. glued to your side like it’s where he belongs, but all he feels is the sense that, once alone, you’ll call him deprived, a desperate man that just wanted to feel you

it’s a short walk to the barracks, nothing said between you two. König’s room is closer, and rather than draw out the walk to your room, you stop in front of his. “Is it okay if we talk in here?”, you cautiously ask, afraid he’d run away again

he wants to say something, voice his thoughts, but all he does is reach for the door handle. a quick turn, and it’s opening - the giant man stepping over the threshold. you’re quick to follow him in, in case he shuts the door or turns to leave. maybe, you think, he’ll be more at ease in his own room

he sighs, deep and audible as he pulls out his desk chair. he’s almost too big for it, a little too bulky. his back to the door, he simply looks down - unable to look at you, sure of what’s to come. a screaming fit, spewing obscenities, something that’ll make his heart shatter more than it already has

he hears you speaking, sees your shoes in front of him as he looks at the floor. it’s all muffled, tuned out as his brain swirls with ‘what if’s’. what if they yell? what if they cry? what if they leave? what if they never come back? what if—

it takes him a moment to notice you’re not standing in front of him anymore, and when he glances up you’re not in view. gone. left him to wallow in his room, to sit and think. he’s already tugging his hood off, discarded onto his desk. messy copper hair and scars on display, he sinks back into his chair, head held low

he lets his eyes flutter shut, the silence in the room deafening as he mourns. stupid, it’s worse knowing he’s lost you and you’re still roaming the base. gone, but still here— eyes opening when he feels a hand on his neck, a palm against his throat, he swallows

“You won’t talk to me, you can’t even look at me, König.”, oh god, your voice, low and condescending as you speak. your fingers snugly resting against the column of his throat, déjà vu hits König like a truck when your pointer finger nudges against his chin, “You were really confident… what happened to that?”

bare skin touching bare skin, and when you gently press your finger under his chin, making him tilt his head up? he’s pretty sure this is pure bliss, “Look at me.”. and, oh, that stern tone you have goes straight down his spine, nerves tingling as his icy gaze meets yours. your hand— your warmth against his neck nearly has his brain turning to mush

he likes this, he’s being scolded by you for ignoring you, your hand wrapped around his neck. eyes half lidded, gazing up at you, his mind is somewhere else entirely. you’re talking again, probably commenting on how he’s been behaving, but all he’s focused on doing is leaning into your touch. pressing his neck a little more against your hand, biting back a low groan when you absentmindedly squeeze

you weren’t even looking at him anymore, gesturing with your other hand as you look up - frustrated, your eyebrows knit. you look so good like this, and the effect is more than obvious. between the tent in his pants on the way it looks like his brain should be oozing out his ears, the drool running down his chin, König’s not really present in the moment

he nearly misses it when you move your hand off his neck, blinking when you wipe the drool from his lip. “I’m not mad, König. Just… when you get yourself together, feel free to come find me, yeah?”, and there’s that smile - fond gaze looking down at him the way he missed, this time more intimate. patting his cheek briefly, spit smearing his skin a little, he sits up and watches you leave

he’ll come find you Maus, eventually. for now, in the dim lighting of his room, he’s more focused on working his belt off

[justin-chapmanswers]

Sorry if this is a bit rude, but how do you consider yourself as he/they or they/he? I am questioning my sexuality and gender at the moment and seeing you (idk if ur lgbt) makes me find comfort, if you can, how did you realise you were not straight and how I can find mine! :3

Oh golly uh. Let's see if I can keep this short and then bury it under other answers. <3

Labels are fun cause they're so funky and ever-changing as you learn more about yourself. So, firstly, don't stress about finding something so perfect right away and bounding yourself to it. You're still you, any way you word it.

Gender-wise I'm in a state of def preferring they but being chill enough with he. Like whateverrrrr. It's hard to get around societal norms and perceptions, so my expectations are calibrated accordingly. I of course feel that for people who feel more strongly about a specific label, it's important to fight for it to be recognized whenever you're in a safe-enough environment to do-so. But for me, the concept of pushing for a specific label or, even more-so, of seeing other people pushing others to use a specific label for me is veryyyy anxiety-inducing. I tend to avoid spotlight when possible. But at the same time, a lot of it just comes down to not wanting to be grouped/perceived gender-ly at all. I tend to use the label agender. But I'm sure a lot of people have similar experiences with different labels. I just, ya'know, wanna be me.

Gender exploration is funnnn. There's no one right way to learning about yourself. Some people know from a young age, almost inherently, some people figure things out a lot later. It's never too late. Some people learn with outfits and styles, some with looking to people/characters who they want to be perceived more-like, some with experimenting through new names/pronouns and feeling-out how being called different things makes them feel. If you have friends you feel safe around with all of this, on or offline, can't hurt to say "hey would ya mind calling me x-name or y-pronoun for a bit?" And if you don't like it, you don't need to stick with it. But really be cognizant of it feels right to you.

Then on the romantic orientation side, that's been a much longer journey haha. I was calling myself straight through middle schooler, bi for a bit in early high school, gay starting in later high school, then for a long while. Nowadays I just say queer. Labels make things easier, until they don’t haha. For me, if you imagine a scale of feminity to masculinity with like little pegs running down the line from 0 to 10, with 5 in the middle, I tend to find myself attracted to people in like the 4 to 8 range? Something like that. But even that's not perfectly consistent! There's never going to be a perfect word for everything. That's why I like queer as an umbrella term. It's also just a cute word, I don't make the rules.

Hence earlier when I mentioned that you should just feel free to keep it open and not close yourself off. Maybe nothing'll change, but what if something does? But of course, I assume you're asking from more of a place of just starting this journey. I'm trying to get my mind back to where I started with that. I think the first time the not-straight realization hit was when a friend of mine didn't show up to an event and I was all like "why am I so miserably sad that he wasn't there?" And then a lightbulb appeared over my head and out-loud I said "aw damnit." And then things have been weird and confusing ever since.

But in terms of giving advice, it's hard to not just be like "uhh idk just hang out with people that makes you feel gooey." But obviously it's more complicated than that. A decade ago, I was taking random "am I gay" tests online. But they're kinda silly cause the questions on those would ask me to fill in information about how I feel, but how am you supposed to know how I feel without the test telling me how I feel??????? So realistically, I'd advise private journaling. Just take some time, even five minutes. Start now. Write out who you are drawn to, in any sense, and how they make you feel. Especially if you're like me and have trouble self-reflecting unless I force myself to. Like. In a Tumblr post.

There's so many ways to explore. It's also nice to look at relationships in life and media and seeing if you connect to any relationship or long to fit into someone's place within a relationship. That's why representation matters, baybeeeee! But also, ya'know, talking to people goes a long way to learning about yourself. Trial 'n error let's gooooo.

And above all: you got this.

[chosetherose]

"The Alchemy" = Karlie's POV of how she's going to take Taylor from Travis?

"I haven't come around in so long

But I'm making a comeback to where I belong"

Karlie showing up at the Eras Tour! Taylor didn't spend long enough with either of the beards for "so long" to make any sense as being about them. How do you make a comeback when you're barely a thing to begin with? Karlie's comeback was headline news though.

"So when I touch down

Call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team

Ditch the clowns, get the crown"

Her football fan baby ("fly like a jet stream") is touching down and coming to sweep away the understudies, users, narcissists and clowns. King of my Heart coming to reclaim her crown! We can only hope 🙏

"Cause the sign on your heart says it's still reserved for me"

Taylor can rewrite history all she wants, but Tratty was never a thing and no-one with a brain can buy the idea that he was the love of her life ten years ago, while Kissgate was happening right in front of him. Peak Kaylor era. When we all saw with our own eyes how she looked at Karlie! But, no, it was Matty all along! Sure, Jan.

Meanwhile, even the "anyone but Karlie" Gaylors who hate her can't deny Taylor has been writing songs about Karlie for a decade now. Even they think she's not over her. So who "still" has Taylor's heart and could make a comeback? Mmhmm.

"I circled you on a map"

Flashback to Taylor highlighting Kaylor-related towns on the weather map in the Lavender Haze music video. Uh-huh.

"Who are we to fight the alchemy?"

Alchemy is the process of turning things into gold. Are we really going to sit here and pretend this isn't Ms Gold Rush, Ms "it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold"? Are we really going to pretend Karlie hasn't been gold coded since the beginning? But no! This is about Travis! Totally! Does your blindfold fit snugly enough, babe, or do you want me to tighten it some more for you? 🙄

"Hey, what if I told you we're cool

That child's play back in school

Is forgiven under my rule?"

The child's play is the bearding. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. It's getting so old to never grow up. Karlie is saying it all means nothing.

"These blokes warm the benches

We've been on a winning streak"

Her British beards have just been keeping Karlie's seat warm. While she and Taylor have privately been on a winning streak.

(Seriously, the construction of this song makes no sense if you believe it's about Travis. How could she have been "on a winning streak" with him, while "these blokes" were present-tense warming the benches? Or are we supposed to believe they're just waiting on the sidelines for Taylor to get back with one of them? Even though things are so great with 🚜 and she's said multiple times she doesn't want that? So . . . how is any of this working, exactly? What benches are they warming? Are we SURE the "we" is Travis? Hmm?)

"He jokes it's heroin but this time with an e"

People are so distracted by this "dig at Matty" they can't see what's right in front of their faces. Heroin with an e = heroine. As in, the female hero of a story. The joke is that the one to "save" Taylor won't be any of these jokers dressing up as kings. It's a woman. A HEROINE. Not a hero.

And then we get a football metaphor everyone will assume is about Travis, even though Karlie's love of football is well-documented. Do we really think Travis cares more about the beard he's made his meal ticket than he does about winning a trophy? Yeah, right. The days of wasted celebration with no Taylor in sight really give that impression. The thirst traps he was liking on Instagram while "dating" Taylor really show he only has eyes for her. Totally.

Meanwhile we have a million songs where Taylor tells us all her obviously-Karlie lover ever wanted was her.

I can't see The Alchemy any other way than as a Karlie comeback song. Bring it home, Karlie! We're all rooting for you! Go! Fight! Win! 🏆

Wow, Anon! I love this take! Lots of food for thought.

[rebelliousneferut]

love in the spotlight | kylian mbappe x model!reader

summary; you and kylian have been dating for a while and everything is going well until he signs for real madrid and everyone thinks you broke up

genre; fluff, smau

face claim; elisa maino

note; English is not my first language

masterlist!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

over a year of dating kylian mbappé feels surreal. it all started at a gala – a world you stepped into with your blossoming modeling career. a chance encounter, a meeting of eyes across the room, and suddenly, the world-famous footballer seemed like just another guy, shyly hoping to impress. he knew you were the one that night, and by the end of it, you were on a date with kylian mbappé.

the rollercoaster began. the highs were exhilarating – stolen kisses under the eiffel tower, surprise visits during fashion weeks, the thrill of cheering him on from the vip box at the parc des princes. the lows were like navigating a minefield – prying paparazzi, jealous whispers, fans who seemed to think they owned a piece of his heart. but through it all, you were a team. six months in, you took the plunge, moving to paris to be with him.

keeping your relationship a secret felt strange. but kylian, ever the strategist, knew the media frenzy that would erupt. so, you flew under the radar, your love a secret whispered between stolen moments. until, of course, the bombshell signing with real madrid. the world learned about kylian's move, and then, they learned about you. the spotlight found you, but you weren't afraid. you had him by your side, and together, you were ready to face anything.

everything was out in the open with kylian. from the start, fans adored their union. they were a social media darling couple, constantly cheering each other on and attending events together. kylian's move to real madrid, however, cast an unexpected shadow. public appearances dwindled, and whispers of a breakup swirled through the tabloids.

y/nl/nuser

liked by kendalljenner, wolfiecindy, charles_leclerc and others

y/nl/nuser ✨🌼

username you're the prettiest!!!

username is she in madrid with kylian?

username i don't think so. she was attending an event in milan

username it's been a while since we last saw them together 😢

username where is kylian and why not in the likes?? 😭

username don't overreact. obviously he is busy with his move to madrid

username even so he always has been so supportive with her

username they don't owe us nothing girl. let them be private if they want

charles_leclerc beauty

❤️ liked by the author

username i'm getting crazy rn

you were scrolling through your instagram when a post popped up. it was a hilarious play on the whole "celebrity couple break up" trope, and you found yourself letting out a genuine laugh. a moment later, kylian's face filled your screen on a video call. his brow furrowed in concern.

"there you are," he said, relief washing over his features. "why did you like that post, y/n?"

"oh, kylian" you sighed, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "it was just... funny. sorry, mon amour, i just needed a laugh."

kylian's expression softened. he knew the pressure you were both under. "maybe we should do something to address the rumors," he suggested.

you nodded, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "let's give them something truly unexpected."

footballwags

liked by y/nl/nuser, username, kmbappefans

footballwags possible breakup between the model y/n l/n and the soccer player kylian mbappé? it's been a while since they were last seen together publicly and they currently no longer react to his posts and there doesn't seem to be any contact between them. we assume that y/n is in milan at an event to which she was invited while kylian is in madrid. what do you think about this? we are sad to see one of our favorite couples distance themselves, in any case we wish them both many good things

kmbappefans as any other couple they deserve respect. please give them privacy and don't spread unfunded rumours

username 💀💀💀

username she is in the likes...

username i think that's enough confirmation

username @k.mbappe @y/nl/nuser please tell us something 😭😭

k.mbappe

liked by vinijr, judebellingham, endrick and others

k.mbappe mi nueva casa 🏟️😍 #halamadrid

elisahums hala madrid baby

username and?

username who are you?????

kmbappefans 🤍🤍🤍

username she's not even here 💔

username i'm starting to believe the rumours...

realmadrid 🤍🤍🤍

judebellingham welcome mate 😆🤝

y/nl/nuser uploaded to their story;

k.mbappe mine ❤️

y/nl/nuser

liked by k.mbappe, wolfiecindy, kmbappefans, footballwags and others

y/nl/nuser from paris to madrid and to the end of the world, i love you my big boy ❤️

k.mbappe je t'aime mon amour, thank you for all your support ❤️

❤️ liked by the author

username I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THAT I'M CRYING

username i'm literally crying too 😭

username don't scare me like that again 😡

username you are my favourites

footballwags thanks god our favourite couple is still together and happy ❤️

k.mbappe uploaded to their story;

[caption: my pretty girl]

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Crumbling Down

carlos sainz x Piquet!wife oc & secret family

this is meant with no real negativity to cs55's girlfriend rebecca, and only discusses her in a slight poor light due to plot reasons.

Private Account

verity.sainz a perfect break with my whole world before flying is restricted once more by baby #4 🤍

carlossainz55 mi corazon ❤️

f1wags and we're back to race week with the first public appearance of Carlos Sainz's new girlfriend!

fan1 WHY DOES HE HAVE HIS EYES OPEN WHEN THEY KISS?

"Carlo," I can't help the crack in my voice when I say his name, "You said you would say no to them. You said you wouldn't abuse our desire to keep our private life private like this."

"Mi amor," The pet name hurts, something that used to make my body buzz with joy making me want to cry harder as I wrap my arm around my rounded stomach. "They were insistent, I've never had a woman come to the paddock outside my family and they say I needed to change that."

"You haven't gone with a woman because we decided to remain private! We didn't want to pressures of the world! So we got married, and then we had Carlos and Junie and then they were each too young to go, and just as we were about to announce the family, I got pregnant with Flora and now with Tilly-"

"Tilly? As in Matilda?" He asks, interrupting my emotional rate with a tone that is too close to joy. "You found out the baby's gender?"

We had picked out names. This wasn't how he was supposed to find out.

"Yes, she's a little girl," I admit, "The kids and I had a whole plan how to announce it once you got home."

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," Is his answer, the sounds of the garage around him getting slowly quieter as I can only assume he moves towards his drivers room.

The idea of him coming home after kissing her to kiss me, to kiss our children's foreheads, makes me want to be sick.

"At the moment Carlos, I can't promise the kids and I will be here when you get home," I whisper, the truth slipping out like razorblades. "I think we're going to go see my parents."

"Vera, you're not meant to be flying. We were cutting it close with out trip as it is," He answers, voice strong and commanding.

"That's what's upsetting you? The fact that I will be traveling and not that I've just told you that your wife and children won't be home to greet you when you return because you're parading around another woman? Because when Carlos and Junie put on the race to see their father they'll see her name with yours underneath?"

"Verity, you know that's not what I want-"

"Then why did you agree? Why did you agree after I cried to you about how the idea of you with another woman made me ill?"

"It was for a good reason," His answer is hesitant, and you can tell he doesn't mean it.

"I hope the reason was enough for you, Carlos, because I can't keep letting you love us in the dark. We'll be with a friend since you're so concerned about me traveling." He did have a good point on that matter, but I can't help but say it before hanging up, not giving him a moment to respond as I waddle my way to the living room, dropping myself on the couch.

"Mamá?" Carlos III's voice calls, his head of hair like his fathers sticking out from behind the hallway wall, "Que occure? (What happened?)"

"Oh my baby, nothing happened," I try to assure, attempting to get all the tears off my cheeks before he can really notice.

"Mamá," He prompts this time, sounding entirely fed up with my response as he moves into the room, such a serious look for a seven year old. "I heard you on the phone with Papá. What has he done?"

"Something that you do not need to worry yourself about mi mundo (my world)," I assure, pulling him into my side as he gets close. He curls into my side, hand resting on my stomach as he's done with his other sisters.

"Hola Tilly," He greets her, placing a quick kiss to where he feels her kick before looking up to me, his father's spitting image. "We're going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa?"

"No, you're father made the point that I can't travel anymore, so we're going to go see if tia Kelly and prima Penelope are up for some visitors, yeah?"

"I'll go get my suitcase and start packing," He agrees, giving me a small smile as he moves to get up. I know I'll have to repack his suitcase later, but as he runs off, all I can be is grateful for this little angel who blessed us when we were young and unprepared, much to my fathers chagrin. But my kids are who keep me together as I dial my sister's number, tears coming to my eyes when I hear her voice.

"Vera? Honey are you crying?"

"Kel, can the kids and I come visit?"

"Always. P will prep her toys and I will prep the guest rooms."

"What the fuck were you thinking," The angered Red Bull driver shouts across the paddock, storming towards the Ferrari drivers who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Max, what's-"

"This doesn't involve you, Charlie," The Dutchman silences, eyes blazes of fire as they move to the Spaniard who's practically his brother-in-law. "You brought your girlfriend to a race and expected that to go well with your wife? The mother of your four children?"

"Tell me you did not," Charles chimes in, unable to keep the words from slipping out of his mouth at news. He had seen Carlos with a woman earlier, but had only assumed her to be a new member of his media team.

"It is none of your concern, Verstappen. What happens between my wife and I is just that."

"And I'll respect that when your actions aren't broadcasted to the entire world and having Vera call Kelly sobbing saying she's packing up the kids and leaving," Max fumes, Carlos's expression dropping at the knowledge. He had known that she was upset, that she had threatened to leave, but he thought it was just that, a threat. Not that she would actually leave the home they had designed together in Nice.

"After this race you better fix your fucking mess, because I will enforce whatever Verity wants, whether that is keeping you away from her and the kids or not."

And the Dutchman storms off, not waiting for a response.

"Kelly, I am only here to see my family."

"Carlos, you've been in our family for nine years, by law seven, but I can promise you that if Vera doesn't want you here, you will not be entering this apartment," The elder Piquet daughter warns, eyes angered by the mans simple presence.

"Kel, can I come in?" Max questions, not wanting to answer her more but also hoping to embrace her and Penelope, any week without them feeling too long.

She smiles at him, having missed him as well but her expression quickly steels. "Not if you are bringing him in with you."

"Kelly," I finally interrupt, having enough of seeing her scold my husband through the door as I breastfeed Flora. "You can just let them in, but please warn Max that I'm feeding Flora," I request, hating the idea of making the man uncomfortable in his home.

"You're okay, Ver," Max offers, his eyes immediately meeting my own and not leaving as Kelly opens the door, him and Carlos entering. "Kelly and I are actually going to go say hi to the kids, I've missed P and all of them," he says, kissing my sisters lips in a quick peck.

"Is Flora done? We could take her with us?" And it's like Flor could understand her aunt's question, because she's unlatching on cue, allowing me to pull up the piece of my top to cover myself and nod to Kel.

"Would you please? She just needs to be-"

"Burped," Max finished, taking my current youngest into his arms, kissing her head as he moves her to his shoulder. "Between P and my nephews, we've got this covered. Just let us know when you're done," He offers, kissing the side of my head.

"Thank you."

"Anything for family," He just smiles, the expression falling when he turns to Carlos who has been frozen in place. "Say the wrong things and your ass will be on the street before you can say forza ferrari."

"Sí- I mean, yes, of course," His eyes meeting mine before his next words leave his mouth. "I just want to talk apologize my wife."

"Right then, let's go say his to the kids," Kelly prompts, the two walking out with Flora in hand, the cheers of the kids upon seeing their uncle and P seeing her father figure making my heart warm.

"Mi amor, you have no idea how sorry I am for agree to the teams request for even a moment," Carlo apologizes, his body moving towards mine, taking the spot beside me and my hands into his own. "I went back to the team, they've posted an announcement saying that Rebecca and I are not together, and I gave them a photo of us from our wedding."

My heart beat fastens, his eyes meeting mine as his fingers start to fiddle with my wedding band. "Why would you do that?"

"I am having it announced that before my start in formula one I have been madly in love with you. That over those years we have married and created a family in private that I love," He explains, a hand coming to cup my cheek, running his calloused thumb to wipe away the tears that have begun slowly running from my eyes. "I no longer want to hide you. We can keep the kids to ourselves until they're older, but now everyone knows I am taken by the love of my life."

"Carlo," I can't help but whimper, flinging myself at him in a hug. "Te amaré hasta que ya no respire (i will love you until i am no longer breathing)."

"And I, you, mi amor," He assures, kissing the top of my head. "I am more sorry than I could ever put into words."

"You've fixed the situation, Carlo, we can work from this," I smile, little giggles alerting us to our observers.

And wrapped around the corner, piled on top of each other, our children's heads and niece's head are stacked, Junie's under her brothers and Penelope's in between. It's only a moment later thought that Flora appears to be floating on top of Carlos III, Max and Kelly's heads slowly appearing as well.

"Estan bien mamá y papá? (Are you okay mama and papa?)" Juniper questions us, Carlos III placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Sí," Carlos Jr answers, pulling us into a sitting position. "Ven aquí nuestros amores (Come here our loves)." Their little feet carry them strong and fast towards us, gently climbing on top of us, minding my stomach as Kelly approaches us, now holding Flora and resting her gently against my chest with a smile. "We are okay, Papa made a mistake but he has started fixing it and I will be working to so for a time."

"As you should," Carlos III digs, making me smile slightly.

"We love you all," I remind, kissing eaches head, including Penelope. "And we love each other. No matter what, things will work out and we will love you all," my little girl giggling brightly.

"Nosotros tambien te amamos mama (we love you too mama)."

[dukeofankh]

Almost everybody has at least a *little* bit of a point.

Yeah. Even them. And being wrong about everything else doesn't actually change that. They might not know how that point should actually be interpreted, they might come to foolish or even actively harmful conclusions from that point. They might radically overstate how prevalent or important the point is. But don't fall into the trap of refusing to acknowledge things that are true just because a bad person says them.

I cannot tell you how many times I've seen someone from a group I belong to dunking on someone from some outgroup, even a very harmful outgroup, and in doing so, denying basically true things that we would absolutely agree with if we were talking about them in private.

I dunno. Maybe it bugs me for neurodivergent reasons. Maybe I'm a pedantic ass.

The other day I got into a massive fight online with a guy in a feminist group because he was squabbling with a bit of a dipshit who pointed out that men are under a lot of pressure to become financially successful, and that's why they do stupid shit like get into crypto.

And like... rather than say "yeah, men are still expected under hegemonic masculinity to be breadwinners, despite the advances of women into the workforce, the economy being in shambles and the middle class having been whittled to a toothpick at this point. We need to work as feminists to challenge that gendered expectation, and as leftists to rebuild the power of labour to allow everyone, both men and women, to have a living wage that can allow for a family and a dignified life." This other feminist guy decided instead that, since the concept of men being pressured to be economic providers was being used in a way that sounded like it was suggesting that women only want to date rich men, it was redpill propaganda and, therefore, fascist misinformation. He went with, "what are you talking about, Gen X killed the concept of corporate success as marker of personal worth, everyone agrees that being a workaholic is bad and unattractive now. The idea that you think you'll be judged for being poor is a lie spread by the right to radicalize you into hating women." He did not react well when I pointed out that he was just as wrong as the other guy was. More wrong, actually.

And like...you can build multiple arguments from the same data point. Some are well reasoned, some aren't. Someone can feel pressure and assume it's much more widespread than it is, or that it takes a much more extreme form than it really does. But if you're going to coherently argue against an idea, you have to honestly appraise the situation and figure out what grains of truth it has in it. You have to acknowledge that core root of truth and show them how it means something else.

If, instead of doing that, you just deny the true thing because the other person's argument is built on it and you want to stamp it out? Because, hey, they interpreted it wrong, it's not like they really believe something true? You act as though a fact used to support a lie is also a lie. And if you do that, and argue against the facts because their conclusions are stupid, you construct a little world where, in refusing to accept both their flawed argument AND the fact it's based on, you become more wrong than they are. And you make the deeply foolish choice of picking a fight in that world. And if it's on the internet, that little world can become pretty big. Tactically, it's about the dumbest thing you could do. It ensures that they will keep fighting you because...you're fucking obviously wrong? It radicalizes people, because suddenly the only people who will acknowledge the truth on this thing they care about are other terrible people. It makes your side look dogmatic and ignorant. And apart from all of that...it gets things completely backwards.

Your principles are what you want to use to change the world for the better. You believe them because you honestly believe that following your principles improves things, because they are based on a solid grasp of how the world works. Your beliefs follow from what is true. If you flip it so that whether something is true is based on whether it supports your beliefs...that's a bad road to go down.

[pokemonshelterstories]

Even after reading your FAQ and a bunch of asks you've answered, I'm still not sure if a shelter blog is the best place to ask this, so do feel free to delete this (or tell me privately that you won't post it, but only if you have the time and energy), but I can't think of anyone else, and if you do post it, you or some of your followers might have some interesting thoughts, so here goes:

How would you feel about using Pokeballs to catch Pokémon you're planning to eat?

For context, I and my siblings grew up in a small, mostly off-grid community, and while most details aren't relevant, we did hunt for food occasionally. We never used pokeballs, but instead bow and arrow, fishing rods, nets and traps.

These days I live closer to a big city, sharing a house with my brother, his husband, and their teenage son (my other nibling, their older child, has moved out a while ago, so they're not part of this story).

Last month, we visited the community my brother and I grew up in, and during our two week stay, I took my nephew on a hunting trip. He was decently enthusiastic to train his archery, but he asked why we don't just use pokeballs. Wouldn't it be easier? I didn't have an answer for him then, only that we'd been taught this way and that I'd never considered using pokeballs.

But I've been thinking about it. It would be easier, but wouldn't it also be more cruel? After all, by catching it in a pokeball, you're giving the pokemon false hope of a nice life with a trainer, only to then kill it. I feel like killing it quickly while it's still in the wild and doesn't know any better is more, like, honest maybe?

What do you or your followers think?

(If any angry vegans find this post, don't even waste your energy on a mean response or lecture, because most likely I have you blocked already, and if I don't, I'll correct that when I see you being rude to me)

oooh, this is an interesting ask to get...

i think this is really more of a matter of personal comfort with the idea of eating a pokemon that's been caught in a ball, but as long as it's done properly, i don't see anything wrong with it. after all, pokemon for the most part don't really have any concept of what's going to happen to them in the future.

as someone who hunts, you (i assume) understand our duty to give the pokemon we eat as painless of a death as possible. then, as trainers, we have a duty to maintain the 5 freedoms for our pokemon, which includes freedom from psychological stress. provided you meet those requirements, i think it's ok to catch a pokemon in a pokeball for the sake of eating it. it's more humane than certain types of traps that leave the pokemon struggling until the hunter comes to check them, and pokemon tend to relax in pokeballs, since they mimic the way pokemon curl up when healing. when the pokemon is released from its ball, you then just need to humanely slaughter it. there are some pokemon that i wouldn't do this with, since they don't immediately take well to being caught in a ball; buneary is a good example. but many common game pokemon do just fine.

i've actually used a different tool to help out with culling food pokemon- my styler! there are a lot of farms out near artazon, and rangers do sometimes get asked to help with keeping livestock mons calm in the moments leading up to slaughter. i've met rangers who aren't comfortable taking on those cases, and i've definitely gotten fussed at by my share of pokemon rights activists, but i think pokemon raised as food deserve as calm of an environment as possible. so, no, i dont think using pokeballs to trap game is cruel as long as you know what you're doing and don't stress the pokemon out. but if you're used to the way you already do things, don't feel like you have to change it up either.

[luxaofhesperides]

ghostlights prompt with "it's okay, you're safe now" hurt/comfort?

It takes over a month to find Danny. 

Thirty seven days of panic and ever growing dread, searching for him every single day. Duke hasn’t felt this way since he was in foster care, running away from whatever home he got placed in to search for his parents. 

The first week was spent trying to find any trace of Danny, working on nothing but his last few messages and a voicemail he left Duke, where all he said was a whispered, Call me back when you can. I might just be paranoid, but I think someone’s following me. I’m walking home right now. I… I don’t know, I feel a little sick, Duke, I— And then static before the voicemail ends. 

There hadn’t been any sign that Danny made it home. No cameras caught sight of him after he walked past a bus stop. No one around on the streets to tell him what happened. 

One moment, Danny was there. The next, he was gone.

He had to recruit the rest of the Bats into searching for Danny, and his guilt of outing Danny as a meta (half ghost, as Danny called himself) was easily buried under his desperation. Duke knows the statistics. The chances of finding someone after three days drop drastically, and after enough time, it’s safe to assume they’re dead even if people keep searching. 

Jason promised to interrogate some traffickers moving outside of Crime Alley, updating Duke weekly on any other kidnappings that might be related to Danny’s case. Tim had been checking around Danny’s neighborhood, slipping in and out of spaces to gather information, leaving behind cameras and bugs on the off chance the kidnappers came back to the area. Barbara hacked her way into the messages of traffickers, trying to find any mention of Danny. Even Bruce had gotten involved, looking into Danny’s background to see if there was anyone that might be connected to his disappearance.

Vlad Masters wasn’t a lead. He had no idea Danny was missing when they called, and he ended the call immediately to begin his own search.

Thirty seven days.

Duke didn’t want to lose hope, but all he could think about were the empty spaces in his life where Danny once was. 

And now, on the thirty eighth day, Duke jerks awake as his cell phone rings at max volume and he scrambles to get it. He’s not risking another missed call, not after Danny disappeared. 

He doesn’t have time to say anything once he accepts the call before Jason is saying, “We found him Duke. Babs is sending the location to the GPS of your motorcycle. Suit up and meet us here.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s…” Jason hesitates. “He’ll live. But these fuckers did a number on him, from what we've read in their files. We’re waiting for you and the others to get here, and then we’ll take them out while you get your boy to safety.”

“I’m on my way,” Duke says, already pulling his suit out to get changed. He hasn’t bothered to bring it to the Batcave for weeks, spending most of his time out on the streets as the Signal. It’s just easier to have it on hand than to go to the Batcave to suit up, or to leave it in the Hatch. He chucks his phone back onto his bed and is jumping out the window of his apartment just a minute later, dropping down to street level just as his motorcycle pulls up on the street.

He’ll have to remember to get Babs a gift basket or something when this is all over. It’s the least he can do after she’s helped him so much over the past month. 

“Thanks, Babs,” Duke says into his comm, switching it to a private line with Oracle. She hums an acknowledgement, but otherwise doesn’t respond. Not that Duke has much in him for conversation; all his focus is on Danny, Danny, Danny.

The GPS on the motorcycle leads him to the outskirts of GCU campus, in one of the buildings that had been closed off after a fire earlier in the year that they still haven’t fixed due to the amount of mobsters who liked to pass through it, using it as a drop sight for arms deals. Red Hood leans on the chain link fence surrounding it, watching as he approaches.

Duke all but jumps off the motorcycle to reach Red Hood, barely remembering to turn on the cloaking to hide it from sight.

“Where is he?”

“Basement,” Red Hood answers, and even through the helmet, Duke can hear the tightness in his voice that means he’s doing his best to hold back his rage. “Red Robin and the Batgirls are in there, getting Oracle access to their computers. They’re going to make sure no one slips by us. I’m going to make them wish I had been kind enough to kill them, and you’re going to take your boy straight to the Batcave where the Doc is waiting with Alfred.”

It’s not much of a plan, but Duke trusts the others to do what they need to do. All he cares about is getting Danny out of there. 

“Lead the way.”

They scale the fence easily, and there’s no one on the upper levels when they walk in. Not even a single camera to alert anyone to their entrance. Red Hood leads him down a stairwell, ignoring the way the shadows around them move on their own, Duke’s agitation making them twist into some dark nightmare. 

He sees the flicker of light as soon as they step out into the basement hallway. All the light bulbs above their head are broken, covering the floor in sharp glass, and doors going down the hall are all left open, some barely hanging onto their hinges. The building is a wreck, graffiti decorating portions of the wall, and it looks abandoned. He would bet even mobsters avoid coming down here; it’s all sorts of health hazards.

Normally, he’d be cautious. He would sneak through the wall, sticking to the shadows and staying hidden as he went deeper in, ready for anything. 

Duke hasn’t been thinking clearly in weeks. He sees the light, the soft white glow he associates with Danny, and tears after it like a man possessed. 

Distantly, he hears Red Hood curse behind him, and then he’s turning the corner, feeling the familiar burn in his eyes as his powers kick in and let him see the small ball of light flickering weakly as it guides him through the basement level. 

Red Robin and Batgirl’s voices fill his helmet and Duke doesn’t waste a second in muting his comm; if there’s a problem, they can work it out with Red Hood. Now that he’s so close to Danny, he’s not letting anything get in his way. 

The first guy he runs into is a surprise. Clearly a scientist, judging by the lab coat and the notebook in his hands, paired with the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He barely has time to open his mouth, looking alarmed, before Duke slams into him, tackling him to the floor and knocking him out with a quick hit to the temple. 

A vent in the ceiling falls down, and Red Robin pops out.

“They’re keeping him in the back, locked in. I’m warning you now, it’s not a pretty sight.”

“I don’t care,” Duke snaps, “I’m getting him back.”

“We’ll clear the way and keep them from stopping you,” Red Robin says.

He whips out his bo staff and sprints away, kicking in a door. Duke follows after him, ignoring the yells from the other scientists gathered in there, leaving them to Red Robin’s tender mercies. 

The light leads him to a room hidden away in the lab, a small window in the door that is too dirty to see through. The door is locked, so Duke feels out the shadows around him and uses one to slip into the room.

And Danny’s there.

Danny, never without a smile, glowing and funny and so, so sweet, is lying curled up on the floor. There are shackles around his ankles, keeping him trapped in the room with the chain nailed into the wall. His wrists are bound in meta suppressant cuffs, leaving him weak and vulnerable. That’s not the worst thing.

The worst thing is the visible wounds Duke can see on him, sluggishly bleeding. There are blood stains all over the floor, cuts along his arms and thighs, clothes torn into nothing but dirty rags. There’s a large incision on his chest, going down from his collarbone to his navel, hastily stitched together in a way that only keeps it slightly closed, the stitches loose enough to be pulled out with a single pull. 

As if sensing his gaze, Danny blinks his eyes open, staring at the space next to Duke. Slowly, his gaze slides over, eyes hazy with pain and exhaustion. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

Duke kneels next to him, pulling off his gloves to cup Danny’s cheek as gently as he can.

“Hey,” he whispers, overcome with both grief at the pain Danny had to go through, and relief at finally finding him. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Danny doesn’t try to speak again. Instead, he closes his eyes and leans into Duke’s touch, relaxing. 

“I got you honey, it’s alright. I’m gonna get you out of here and take you to some people who can patch you up.”

He slides his arms beneath Danny’s body, lifting him into his arms. 

He doesn’t remember much of what happens next; it’s all a blur of movement and feeling blood slide over his hands. Later, he’ll hear the others give their report, telling of how they found Danny following the trail of a university professor bragging about a paper that would make him famous for a deeper understanding of meta biology. They’ll recount their scouting, the information they stole, how many people they fought and captured. They’ll talk about how the shadows completely overwhelmed the basement when Duke left with Danny, traveling through shadows at a speed he had never achieved before, going farther than he’s ever been able to. 

Leslie and Alfred input their own medical reports of the torture done to Danny and how long he’ll need to be in recovery, checking for infection and possible side effects to his powers. 

All of that will be important later. 

Duke doesn’t care about anything at all when he’s finally able to return to Danny’s side once Alfred and Leslie are done patching him up. The weight that’s been on his shoulders for the past thirty seven days is gone. The sight of Danny’s blue eyes fluttering open is the most beautiful he’ll ever see.

“Hey, honey,” he says softly, holding Danny’s hand as he wakes.

Danny smiles at him. “Duke,” he whispers, “I knew you’d find me.”

“Always, honey. Always.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[hangesdarling]

bad idea — m. ikishima

REQUEST. If it's not too soon since the last one, could we get a one-shot of Midari making transfem!reader feel real pretty through the medium of sex? PAIRING. Midari Ikishima x transfem!reader SYNOPSIS. Crossing paths with Midari may have been a bad idea at first. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, oral sex, suggestive themes, lots of worship WORD COUNT. 1.9k A/N. anon ik this is veryy late im so sorry! 😭 college entrance exams are beating my ass 😭

"You're a damn sneaky one, aren't you?" A voice resounded from your back just as you exit the game room. The hallway lights were glowing red against the walls, an occasional green flashing in the corner. Midari's single eye stared back from that bright-hued hallway, flipping a bullet between her fingers. "You think I didn't catch your cheating?" 

The Hyakkaou Academy gambling tournament began three days ago. Sure, every new game proposes a thrill, a chance for a bigger loot in the end but you cannot stand these gamblers trying to get off with high-risk games only they could enjoy. You should have known that Midari Ikishima was one of those when she pointed a gun at the back of your head one morning after class. It was a purge, a free-for-all for the insane ones such as herself. 

You turned to glare at Midari, the green light reflecting off your eye as you spoke, "So what? You hate that I'm ruining your little morbid game?" 

Russian roulette. A 1-in-6 chance to die, you could understand why that would be fun but cannot appreciate the way Midari keeps loading all available slots when it's your turn to shoot her. 

Midari huffed, excitement creasing her face as she leaned on the wall next to you. "You're a clever one and I like that. Although, I think you're going soft at me back there."

Her eye scanned your face, searching for a hint that she was right but you only brushed her off and said, "I'm a gambler, not a murderer. Besides, I want to end the game quickly with you. You don't even bet with money."

Your eyes rolled at her obvious smirk as she said, "That'd be a bore, don't you think? But I'll do it. I'll bet you heaps of money if you play with me again."

"I'm not playing with you again." You crossed your arms over your chest. "I'm advancing to the next player."

"Oh, I know. But we can have a private session. Just the two of us." Her voice sounded almost sincere and desperate. When she came closer and leaned closer to you, the smell of fresh lavenders and a strong spiced drink wafted in the air. All of a sudden, her eyepatch and even the way she styled herself for the evening tournament didn't look ridiculous. You slid your hand off hers before any other thought crossed your mind. 

"Fine, but on one condition," you muttered, signaling to the gun holstered on her hip. "No guns."

Disbelief crossed Midari's face, taken aback by such a proposition but found nothing within her to protest. She could give up the gun to gamble with you again. 

"Hah, what a pacifist. I assume no pointy stuff as well?" she chuckled, crossing her arms. 

"You're right. So don't try to pull anything like that. I swear I'll leave you playing with yourself," you warned, trying to sound intimidating which Midari only found cute. 

"You know," Midari began, head tilted to get a good look at you. "I'm kinda glad you didn't kill me off earlier. I got another chance to play with you. Maybe even more."

With that, she gave a soft lingering pat on your head before walking past to enter another game room, gripping her revolver in hand. 

-

It was a bad idea to get involved with Midari Ikishima as you have realized now that you were gripping your few remaining chips. Your position in the ranking hangs perilously after a few losses, even one point off can cause a remarkable decrease in the ranking after all. 

What the hell happened? you might be thinking. You spent every day carefully planning to win, concocting a one-time strategy to pull flawlessly at your opponents. But lately, you frequented Midari's dorm for late-night gambles that eventually turned into hookups. You were lost in her risky gambles, her crazed eye urging you to a larger risk which you never found yourself obeying. 

“It's not the best way to win, you know,” you tried to argue with her on your last poker game when she was betting everything in her hand. 

“Ah, it just pisses you off that I’m having fun,” she chuckled. "Stop memorizing the cards if it hurts your pretty little head, sweetheart."

For those few days you were together, you never thought it was a good idea to learn from her. Your ways always contrast, and her methods never fit right with yours. But there was one thing about Midari that kept you returning to her: how she kept making you feel less worried. That there was nothing in the world to be stressed over. Things are bound to be a certain way within a coin flip. It's inevitable.

A strange thrill creeps up your spine as you place your last remaining chips for the final bet. Your knees were cold from being in the room for too long but, a heat in your chest bubbled up the surface, transpiring into a knowing grin. Being with Midari may have dampened your cautiousness but the inner, riskier gambler within you sought for the thrill. An unstoppable force seeking pleasure and victory with no way of convincing otherwise. You wondered if this was how Midari felt.

Your mind went back to those nights you were tangled in her arms, of how her firm kisses crawled up from your chest to your jaw. Live dangerously, Y/N, Midari would whisper, her lips pressing on yours inside her dark room. You only get a few chances so don't waste it, alright?

Your eyes scanned the poker table once again, opponents from your left to right having low-ranking cards. I win, you whispered to yourself. You stepped from that room with your money doubled, your ranking increased by a few levels. Your mind played around the possibilities: you either rose in victory or went out with a huge debt hanging by your neck. But you were snatched away from your thoughts as you saw Midari waiting outside, leaning on one arm, and grinning in your direction. It turned into a proud smile as you jumped in her arms, her hand resting on your head to pull you closer.

"You're one hell of a gambler, Y/N," she smirked, a sultry whisper right at your ear. "I watched your game. All of it."

"All of it?" you chuckled, pressing a kiss just above her piercings. "You obsessed with me or something?"

"Course I am," Midari answered, taking you by surprise when she carried you in her arms. "I'll show you how much I'm obsessed, you sweet girl"

--

"You don't have to hide those away from me, you know that right?" Midari whispered in a low voice against your ear, keeping your hands away from your chest. She gently kissed your bud, tilting your face to look at her. "They're cute and I love them. Next time you cover them up again, I'll tie you to the bed, I swear."

Her tone didn't even pass as threateningly with how gently she held you on her lap. The blush creeping on your cheeks was enough to prompt another tease from her. 

"What, you like that idea, don't you? Didn't know you would be so kinky," she chuckled, tugging at your cheeks. 

"Hey, I didn't say that, weirdo," you pouted. 

"No need to. It's obvious." Midari's hands grazed under your skirt before handling your hips to push you beneath them on the bed. Midari managed to bundle the skirt on your lower abdomen, pressing wet kisses on your chest before whispering, "I can tie you up some other time if you want to so badly."

She tugged on your underwear just the time you were kissing her neck, earning a soft gasp from you. Her fingers were quick at removing the material before wandering back between your thighs, stroking until she felt you moaning softly against her lips. 

Midari kept you relaxed on the bed before going down, her lips kissed your member before slowly taking you in her mouth. She kept a firm hold of your inner thighs to keep your legs apart. Your hands wandered around her silky black hair, fisting the strands into a bundle and clenching when her mouth moved just the right way. 

The rest of the night was filled with worship embraced around you. Her lips trailed on your sternum, causing a slight shiver from you. Midari made it known that this time her intentions surround at your pleasure. She wanted this night to be slow, romantic, and passionate in contrast to the rough, sloppy intimate sessions she had with you before. To make you feel how she cherished you, to grab every opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are, to tell you that she sees you above everyone else right at this moment.

Her lips would graze at the shell of your ear, finding a home on the crook of your neck as she called you her sweet girl. 

"Looks so pretty," she whispered as she kissed the lovely blush creeping on your face. Midari tangled her legs around yours, locking you in her arms before kissing your forehead. Your finger would trail small hearts in her exposed chest, mind absorbed by all the praises she whispered in your ears. Midari noticed the slight redness banding on your wrist from how she gripped you earlier and kissed it anyway. Her kisses crept even at your knuckles, making you wonder what part of you she hadn't kissed yet. 

"Listen, Y/N," she muttered, retrieving what appeared to be a bullet from the pocket on her chest. "I'm not big on promise rings and such stuff but I want you to keep this. Yes, it's a bullet but it's also my lucky charm even if I don't believe in shit like that."

Midari chuckled softly, a rarity from her usual rough behavior. But then again, this night is different. She tapped the bullet a few times on her forehead saying, "This bullet should be the one buried deep in my head a month ago but a certain someone decided to spare my life and have me here."

She tilted your chin so she could look at your eyes. 

"I could die some other time but not right now. I still got to spend more time with you like this, got it?" 

"Is this your way of properly asking me out?" you smiled, nose grazing hers as you spoke. 

"Oh, you can call it that," she smirked, that one she always uses when she gets cocky on you. "So you're tied to me now. No questions asked and no protests. I get to call you my pretty girlfriend from now on."

Your head rested on her chest for a few more seconds, your mind returning from how this all started. You've always known what kind of relationship with her would promise. A risky one full of bullets, and perhaps, life-threatening gambles. A life entirely different from your own. Having Midari by your side felt like shattering a safe bridge you carefully paved but it wasn't about that at all, was it? It was about rebuilding that bridge, adding a touch of her style to create a better one fit for a gambler's life. 

You gently took the bullet from her hand, rolling it around your thumb before responding, "Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea."

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[malopascal]

One shot: we found our way back to each other

"Can we please just talk..." Pedro begged, his eyes looking so tired and his composure exposing nothing but defeat and heartbreak.

A sigh left your painted lips as you avoided his begging gaze, looking through the room of his sister's home, silently missing the hours the two of you had spent in here, laughing, talking and making love.

"Talk about what? You told me two months ago that you weren't ready for a relationship, that I should find someone else who could settle down", you purposely threw Pedro's words back to him in hopes that they would also cause him the same pain it caused you eight weeks ago.

You finally focused your eyes on the Chilean actor and saw how he closed his eyes in shame and shook his head. "You're trying to kill me, mi amor" he whispered before opening his eyes.

"No, you killed me with those words. I thought that I had meant something to you, we had spend four months together, making all these beautiful memories that I can never forget", you spat as tears started to brim your eyes.

"I know, I know (Y/N)...".

"No, you don't. You don't know that I've been faking a smile for weeks, pretending that my life is so fucking awesome and continuing to work like you didn't rip my heart out of my chest, Pedro".

The actor took a step closer to you and quickly took your soft hand in his, his eyes were begging you to take him back. "Words can't describe how foolish I was. I thought that I had made the right decision, allow you to go and be free before my crazy and hectic life would get in between us, and we'd be forced to break up anyway...".

His words made you frown as you slowly shook your head in disbelief.

"Bullshit, Pedro. I accompanied you while you worked and traveled, still made time for my own life and friends and family and not once did I ever voice or think that your celebrity life would become too much for me...How could you make this decision for yourself and then punish me for it?", the tears were now streaming down your face, the aching pain in your chest making it hard for you to focus as you stared at your love. The betrayal still sat deep in your soul and you wondered if you could ever get past this.

"You tossed me aside for nothing, based on assumptions...And then you moved on like we never happened, like I didn't give all my love to you!" you couldn't help but increase the volume of your voice as you finally had the chance to speak about your heartbreak.

After Pedro had suddenly broken up with you through a quick phone call, he had blocked you and went on a promotional tour of his upcoming projects, making you feel lost and abandoned while he continued to live his life in front of the cameras.

Since the two of you were able to keep your relationship private, due to the fact that you were an actress as well, barely anyone noticed how you were crumbling and pretending like you hadn't lost the greatest love of all time.

"My love, I-" Pedro chocked back on a sob before clearing his throat and wrapping his strong arms around your waist, still looking at you like you were the only, most precious thing walking the earth.

"I just wanna know why. Why did you get rid of me like that?" you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, hating how your heart skipped a beat and a delicate sensation of adoration rushed through your body. You knew that touching him alone would have you weak, but in that moment, you didn't care at all.

"I'm almost fifty, it's been years since I had a serious relationship (Y/N), I have anxiety and assumed that it would take a few more weeks before you would get sick and tired of me and my job and leave me..." the actor confessed with a heavy heart.

"But I can't describe the agony I have been in ever since we parted ways. All I can do is think and yearn for you", his beautiful brown eyes gazed deeply into yours while he leaned in closer, his breath dancing along your lips as you let out a soft sigh. God, that man still had you so crazy in love and a part of you thought that he'd try to make up sappy excuses and then leave you alone.

"I am so sorry for what I did, and I know you're just as heartbroken as I am. It's my duty to earn your trust back and show you the blessing that you are to me. Please...." Pedro leaned in and pressed his soft lips against yours, frowning at the pure sensation of your soft lips against his. You pulled away, your head spinning from the passion while you stared deeply into his eyes, your breath coming out in short puffs as you were overwhelmed.

"Please what?" you exhaled as the tension in the room shifted from sad to something else.

He leaned in again, stealing another passionate kiss while his arms pulled your body closer to his. That's when you noticed something throbbing against your lower stomach. You couldn't help but let out a weak moan as your body was succumbing to this man.

"Allow me to win your trust back and show you that I am your man. Yours." Pedro whispered, his breathing increasing by the second as the two of you stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The wetness already had gathered in between your thighs as all you could now think about was feeling him move deep inside you, have him fill you up all the way and talk you through the sensual acts of love.

"I-" Pedro didn't even let you finish your sentence before he had stolen another kiss from your lips, his tongue tracing your lower lip and silently asking for permission. Which you instantly granted.

His big hands immediately started to roam your body, caressing your breasts and shoulders while he moved the two of you towards the bed.

He kissed your neck after having placed you gently onto the mattress, your silky black cocktail dress already being torn from your body. "I need to taste you", he begged.

You instantly opened your legs and quickly got rid of your thong before your love had his head position in between your thighs. "You're so wet" he praised while giving you a soft smile, leaning in closer to where you needed him the most before darting his tongue out and flicking your sensitive clit.

"Yes", you mewled while throwing your head back, your wetness sliding down your inner thighs while your love instantly got to work and devoured you right then and there. His eyes didn't dare to move away from your face as he needed to look at you. He needed the assurance that he was pleasing you, giving himself to you.

He licked and lapped at your swollen clit and drenched folds, dipping his tongue into your hot and wet cunt, loving the way you weakly moaned his name and grind your hips in sync of his movements. Behind your clenched eyelids, you saw stars as the pleasure took over your mind, body and soul.

"You taste divine" Pedro whispered, moaning your name over and over again while his eyes still didn't look elsewhere. He had always been in awe of your beauty and knowing that no other had seen you like this was making his heart swell in his chest with pride.

Before you knew it, your love was kissing his way up your body, positioning himself in between your thighs while he quickly got rid of his dress shirt and freeing his hard cock from its tight pants.

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn't help but moan at the sight of Pedro staring down at your face, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight of you. It took him a few seconds to let his hard cock slide up and down your folds, gathering the slick wetness before whispering how much he loved you.

You couldn't even answer as the sensation of his cock slowly sinking deep inside you overwhelmed you. Your inner walls welcomed the hardness as they stretched and took him deeper. A weak moan left your lips.

"I missed you so much" you chocked out before the first stroke hit you. Pedro closed his eyes and immediately started to snap his hips against yours, hitting your sweet spot over and over again while having leaned down and now gently kissing and sucking on your sensitive neck.

The pure pleasure raging over your body was too much.

The feeling of him buried deep inside you...

His weak moans of your name...

The quick motions of your body desperately wanting to reach that beautiful high together.

It was all too much.

Your toes curled as you felt the delicious knot form in the pit of your stomach, your inner walls were clenching onto your love's cock for dear life while the delicate shivers running up and down your back made it hard for you to focus on anything.

"I am right here, my love. Come on, take all of me and show me you love it. Take it all, it's all yours" Pedro groaned, his hips snapping faster against yours while his hand was now circling your sensitive clit, making the knot tighter and tighter by the second.

You clung onto his broad shoulders as the next deep thrust threw you into the wild, gushing and overwhelming peak. Your orgasm rippled through your body and you couldn't control it. Your inner walls clenched tightly around Pedro's cock as his warm spurts filled you all the way up. That man was almost screaming your name as he continued thrusting his hips in a sloppy manner, wanting this intense and beautiful sensation to never stop.

The weak moans leaving your lips grew softer by the second while the tremors of your high tingled through your body. Your eyes slowly opened and Pedro's adoring smile made your heart swell in your chest.

"I love you'" he confessed.

"I love you too" you responded in a soft huff, still trying to catch your breath.

[broz0neglitters]

Dating Clay ˚ ༘♡ 📗⋆｡ ˚ ❀

Warning: Smut/NSFW!

⚠️(Also I will be using words like dick,cock and Other stuff so if you're uncomfortable with those words you click away once you finish reading dating clay part I don’t know any other word for those again this blog/headcanon is for mature audience so yeah just giving you all a heads up!) ⚠️

Anyway, This is my first Smut I'll include the dating part, too as well before we get to the spicy part I hope you guys enjoy this, and please excuse any mistake I have made

-Also, I don't know the difference between Smut and NSFW. I'm assuming they are the same thing; gosh, I'm so dumb-

Dating Clay: •~•°.🐢

-Since he's a licensed CPA, He will rarely have time for you but he'll still make an effort to spend time with you -You guys first date is basically sitting around watching him do his work and talking most of the time is completely quiet b/c he's working -Your 2nd date will be more like a mini picnic, but of course, Viva interrupts you two; you tell her that you and Clay were in the middle of a date, and she apologizes and leaves and won't do it again unless it is a real emergency -He isn't a big PDA Guy. He will link arms/pinky with you, but sooner enough, he'll even let you hold his hands, even just a kiss on the cheek he rather have PDA In private cause he's a serious boy Clay -When you're sad/angry he would usally avoid making eye contact with you and he would leave you alone until you're ready to vent to him -When you vent to him he will take notes to make sure he doesn't trigger you or upset you ever again

-He will be fun boy clay when his brother aren’t around or in private -he will sing you all of his part in brozone and give you a mini concert -you even wore his romper sweater that one time b/c you want to match with him he will think you look silly but he thinks you look very cute -That dude can bake you anything you like from cake to cookie you name it -He's not a big sweet tooth kinda guy but he will definitely have some milkshake or sweet with you because it makes you happy

-He will definitely take you to his sad book club when he crys he will be hugging you super tight while you pat his hair -He's a super tall troll so do expect him to put his arm or hand on your hair and he will definitely asked you "How's the weather down there?" -He's over protective of you he will stand close to you at all cost to the point the trolls mistaken clay as your bodyguard -He's not big on nickname that's a different story *wink wink* but the only nickname he has for you is babe or short stuff

-He too shy to say "I love you." to you but the ways he shows it is hugs and kisses privately but overtime his shynesses goes e away and he says it with full confidence

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(Okay now onto the spicy Part again I've mention I'll mention some uncomfortable words but I'll try to find a different way to say it anyways again this is 18+ so DNI If you're a minor click away after you read dating clay part or just click away in general I'll do a non-Smut version!)

----------------------

Clay Smut/NSFW: 💚💐💋

-He will take it slow on your first time -During the first time he will dry hump you which makes you turn on -He likes touching your lady part when you're doing dishes etc he even attempted to rub it to see you moan or see if you can keep a straight face -he once rubs your lady part while you were cutting vegetables you almost cut yourself because you couldn't hold it in because of how good it felt when he was fingering you... -He likes it when you beg for him -He's big on nickname once it comes to sex He'll called you Sexy,Baby,Mama and Bitch (He dosen't mean it as a bad way it just his thing when you guys do the deeds) -He will go to town on you like literally he's a rough fucker -His cock is thin and long -when putting his cock into your lady parts he will say thing like "Stay still.. I'm almost done" "mm.. u Feel good ma" etc. -While he's fucking you he will make you moan out his name no matter what he isn't worry if anyone could hear you moan his name he wants everyone to know who his little bitch is when going to town on you

"What's my name mamas?" "Say it louder, say it you mean it moan out my name babygirl.","I can't hear you let me hear you beautiful."

-He loves it when you suck him off -He loves cockwarming so do expect him to ask you to cockwarm espically when he's working -He will most likey fuck you in front of john dory cuz that amazon box ass hole was telling clay that he couldn't go to town on you so clay will prove it to John dory -He's a rough finger fucker he will finger you really roughly but he goes slow on your first time -Usually clay will dominate you during sex but he'll let you dominate him sometimes -He will leaves a bunch of hickeys on your thighs and lady parts

-He will cum all over your hot body,mouth,face he will even cum inside you if you let him his cum is super thick

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Anyways I hope you enjoyed my first clay smut anyways I'll do more clay smut soon eventually anyways this was just a introduction anyways I hope I did well 🤭

Like and Follow are very much appreciated ᯓ★

[peachm1lkk]

『 A Special Donation 』

Synopsis — Marcus gets a unique requests regarding his favorite-least-favorite pain pig

Warnings — NONCON, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, you wear a Collar, Degradation, reference to past Torture, choking, Abusive Relationships, past Stalking mentioned, Mild Painplay, Face Slapping, Canon-Typical Behavior, Porn Without Plot, Facials, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, He cums in your hair, Verbal Humiliation, You're not a good person lol

Pairing — Marcus x Reader

A/N — Cross posted this on AO3, I love Marcus so much... My second favorite ball of hatred who'd I'd let break all my bones.. Can you tell this is loosely based off his Patreon Audio?? Maybe

It's uncomfortable, you note— The collar snugly tied around your neck. Another thing you note, other than the fact that you probably missed a ton of work in your classes, was that he hasn't been back in a while. You weren't really used to this… silence, that overcame the apartment when you weren't sobbing or pleading with him not to hurt you.

You glances down at the amateur attempt to wrap broken fingers, your begging never really worked. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you stand up, wobbling slightly from the bit of malnutrition you've been experiencing from eating only microwave meals and cup noodles— the brief dizziness isn't helped by the fact that you usually don't eat much anyway.

On the bright side, if you can even call it that, you've been picking up baking! Making a variety of sweets whenever he wasn't paying attention to you, those days tended to be the best because other than a few random photos he left you to your own devices.

Just as you were about to walk to the living room, the door to their shared dorm rattled, a few frustrated attempts being made before Marcus finally opened it. He was probably fumbling with the keys.

“U-uh… welcome home,” you softly said, keeping your eyes on the floor.

Marcus grunted in response, tossing his backpack onto the couch. “Your friend asked where you were today.” He informed, walking up to what used to be your camera to examine how long its been recording. A hint of a smile on his face as he hit the mute button, “It's actually kinda funny how worried she seemed… Do you think she knows that she used to be featured on your blog?”

Oh he’s in that mood it seems like, you don't even know what to say. What could you say? Usually any time you spoke— whether it be to apologize or say some shitty excuse it ended with you on the floor crying.

Thankfully, he seemed content with your silence, “You can speak y’know, they can't hear us speak right now… you're little white knight saviors I mean.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and constricted by the collar. you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, afraid to meet Marcus's eyes.

"I... I don't know," you whispered, your voice hoarse from disuse. "I never told anyone about it."

Marcus chuckled darkly, stepping closer. You instinctively flinched away, but the wall behind you left nowhere for you to retreat.

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," he said, reaching out to run a finger along your collar. "Our little secret, right?" His touch made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to remain still. Any reaction could set him off.

"You know," Marcus continued conversationally, "Someone made a donation today— A uh, what do you call it again? A commission, right.” you eyed him nervously as he walked over to the computer reading over past comments and forums regarding the live stream.

“Hey Piggy, you ever had sex before?” The question was as sudden as it was startling, “Pardon..?”

“I'm assuming you've had sex at least once since you have an ex and all that, but y'know… you're also you so I wouldn't be surprised if you've only seen two dicks in your life.” He goes on, much too casually for how personal the subject was— But maybe you didn't have a right to complain about privacy, god knows how many other people's privacy you've violated on those now privated posts.

“Hey pig, answer me.” The irritation in his voice has you tripping over your own words to get an answer out "You're right u-uhm… only done it with my ex.” you stammered, messing with the hem of your shirt with your good hand. “ No one else after that…”

Marcus's eyes gleamed with a mix of cruelty and excitement that made You's stomach churn. You could sense something terrible was coming. "You know how many times I thought about killing you when I found your little stalker forum?” He said changing subjects, grabbing the camera perched upon its stand. “I mean— It's disgusting, even now I still think about strangling you to death… Just the thought that you probably touched yourself to my photos makes me sick.” He takes a deep breath, his finger hitting a button on the camera that you couldn't remember the function for.

“How many times have you cum at the thought of my dick inside you?”

You felt sick, knowing that he wasn't entirely wrong “M-Marcus I'm sorry,” you whispered, even knowing it was futile you can never get rid of the instinct.

"Well, looks like today's your lucky day," he said with a smirk. "Our generous donor wants to see you fucked." Your eyes widened in horror. "What," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I-I can't...”

Marcus ignored your plea, grabbing your arm roughly. “And even if I can't kill you— I might as well fuck you like I'm gonna, right?”

He dragged you towards the bedroom, You stumbling behind him as you tried to resist. But months of captivity and malnourishment had left your weak and unsteady.

"Please, Marcus," you begged as he shoved you onto the bed. “I’m sorry I'm so sorry— please don't do this."Marcus laughed coldly as he loomed over your trembling form on the bed. "Sorry? You're sorry?” He mocked, “Sorry doesn't fucking pay for all the gross ass photos you’ve taken of me does it, pig?"

He set up the camera on the nightstand, angling it to capture the entire bed. Your heart raced as you heard the telltale beep of it starting to record.

“C'mon, Let's give our viewers a good show, I know how much you love their attention after all." Marcus whispered against the shell of your ear, You shuddered as Marcus's breath ghosted across your skin. Your mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare, but you were trapped - physically and psychologically. Months of captivity and abuse had worn away your defenses.

"Please," you whimpered one last time, even as Marcus began pulling at your clothes.

He ignored your feeble protests, methodically stripping your bare. The camera's unblinking eye recorded every moment of your humiliation. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to retreat into yourself, to find some quiet corner of your mind that this wasn't happening. But Marcus wouldn't allow you that small mercy. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. "Eyes open," he growled. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you."

Tears streamed down You's cheeks as Marcus positioned himself over your. Tugging his own pants down to let his thickness free, “Ha… ha— You're just meat…” He mumbles slowly stroking himself to full hardness, “Meat that was born to be taken advantage of, it was only a matter of time before someone found out… I was just the less cruel option.”

You choked back a sob as Marcus's words cut through your like knives. you wanted to argue, to insist that you weren't just "meat," that you were a person with hopes and dreams and dignity. But Maybe he was right. Maybe this was all you deserved. Marcus lined himself up, his eyes locked on You's tear-streaked face. "Remember," he whispered, "you brought this on yourself."

With that, he thrust forward brutally, burying himself inside your unprepared body. You cried out in pain, your back arching off the bed. It hurt - oh god, it hurt so much. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the crushing weight of shame and despair.

"That's it," Marcus grunted, placing a hand on your lower stomach "Cry for the camera. Show everyone what good rape bait you are.” He cooed, setting a brutal pace forcing his cock as far as your gummy walls allowed it — “ For once you being small is actually a plus,” he panted in between thrusts, watching the small bump in your stomach appear and disappear in time with each thrust.

His eyes glanced over at the camera, a part of him feeling truly disgusted at the type of people watching— But at the same time it made his dick throb so much harder, “You like that? Showing everyone that you're just a flesh light, hm?”

Your body shook with each brutal thrust, pain radiating through your core. Despising how despite the pain his deep fucking was enough to tickle the instinct out, to pull wetness that with each slap of his pelvis pressing against your ass a damned embarrassing wet squelch was made.

"Answer me," he snarled, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back. "Tell the camera how much you love being used like the worthless cum dump you are."

A strangled whimper escaped You's lips. "I-I..." you gasped, barely able to form words through the pain and humiliation. "I luh—love being- being u-used."

Marcus's pace grew even more frantic, his grip on your hips bruising. "That's right," he panted. "This is all you're good for. Just meat to stick my dick in…” Holding your hips up with one hand his free hand snakes down to your throat- applying pressure slowly

“Meat that doesn't need to—shit—breathe.” He mumbles, You's vision begins to blur as Marcus's hand tightens around your throat. Her lungs burned, desperately craving oxygen. Panic overwhelmed you as darkness crept in at the edges of your sight. Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, Marcus released his grip. You gasped and coughed, gulping in air. The brief respite was short-lived as Marcus resumed his relentless assault on your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, his thrusts loosing pace and becoming erratic. “You felt so tight just then, do you really get off to me raping you? Are you that cock hungry?” He teased, letting his hand fall to your puffy clit- rubbing cruel circles all over the ball of nerves “Fuck… I'm close. Where do you want it, pig? Where should I mark you as mine?"

You couldn't answer, still struggling to catch your breath. Her silence seemed to anger Marcus further. The burning sensation of his hand registering first before you realized he'd slap you, cruel fingers digging into your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "I asked you a question," he snarled. "Where. Do. You. Want. It?"

With pained moans you refused to believe came from genuine pleasure you stammered out a shaky response, “O-out— puh-please, not in- in me.” you sobbed,

Marcus's eyes glinted with cruel amusement. "Not inside, huh? Well, since you asked so nicely..." With a final brutal thrust, he pulled out of your abused body. You barely had time to feel relief before he was straddling your chest, his hand gripping your jaw tightly.

"Open wide," he commanded, stroking himself furiously. Too broken to resist, You parted your lips. Marcus groaned as he reached his climax, his release splattering across your face and into your open mouth. You gagged at the thickness and slimy texture, but Marcus held your still until he was finished.

"There," he panted, wiping himself clean on your hair. "Now everyone can see what a filthy little whore you really are."

He climbed off your, tucking himself into his pants. And walking over to the camera to stop the recording, leaving You trembling and soiled on the bed. you curled into yourself, trying your best to tune it all out and just go to bed.

“Oh, piggy—” He started grabbing your attention, “You have an essay due or something, your professor stopped me earlier today to tell you that.” He casually explained, as if he didn't just rape you.

“I should probably go work on that project... Pretty sure it's due soon,” He said to himself, lifting the camera up to eye level. You flinched at the familiar clicking sound of the camera, trying to keep your soft crying to a minimum even after hearing him mumble something about the picture probably not printing well. You lay motionless on the bed, your mind struggling to process the trauma you had just endured. Every part of you ached - your body from the brutal assault, your throat from Marcus's choking, your very soul from the depths of degradation you had been forced to.

you could hear Marcus moving around the apartment, the casual sounds of everyday life a stark contrast to the horror of what had just transpired. The urge to scrub yourself clean was overwhelming, but You couldn't bring yourself to move. you feared any motion might shatter what was left of your fragile psyche.

Time passed in a haze. You drifted in and out of consciousness, your exhausted mind seeking escape in fitful snatches of sleep. You were vaguely aware of Marcus returning to the bedroom at some point, muttering about needing his textbook.

"You should really get started on that essay," he remarked “It's due in a few days.”

[wtfsheikura]

Prologue

"WE SHOULD BREAK UP," SUKI announces on our way out of algebra class.

Her unfeeling declaration shouldn't surprise me since I knew this was inevitable, but I didn't expect her to dump me a few hours before prom.

I stop in the middle of the hallway, not caring that I'm blocking traffic. "Why now?" I ask, tightening my grip on my backpack straps.

She looks down at her pink painted nails, refusing to make eye contact with me.

"Things have been different since the accident. You're different." Translation: Now that your face is fucked up, I can barely stand to look at you. "Graduation is right around the corner, and with me leaving for Kyoto at the beginning of the summer, it only makes sense for us to part ways now." Translation: I want a clean break so I can date someone I'm not embarrassed to be seen with.

Now that I'm no longer the "ruggedly handsome Basketball player," as she so fondly used to call me, she's eager to replace me with someone who won't ruin pictures with a jagged scar marring half his face.

"Satoru, are you listening to me?" She waves her hand in front of me to grab my attention when I don't respond.

"My face may be fucked up but my ears work just fine, Su," I say through gritted teeth.

"What did I say?" she challenges, hands on her hips.

"That you're embarrassed to be seen with me, and you want to date other people. Does that sum it up?" Okay, so those weren't her exact words, but we both know that's what she's thinking.

"You're twisting what I said," she retorts, raising her voice and taking a defensive stance, arms folded tightly across her chest.

The sound of someone snickering catches my attention. That's when I notice the sizable crowd of students lingering in the hall, interested to hear how this argument unfolds.

"You're right. We have grown apart," I say, keeping my voice steady.

Suki's eyes widen in shock at hearing me agree. That's when she notices our audience, causing a sudden shift in her blasé attitude. She gets fidgety and twirls a piece of hair around her finger, shifting from foot to foot.

"What are you saying?" she demands, glancing back at her friends who have joined the group of spectators.

From her reaction, one would assume she's the one being dumped in front of an audience, not the other way around.

"We should break up," I say, echoing her earlier declaration.

"Just like that?" she demands. "You're not even going to try to convince me to change my mind? How could you humiliate me in front of—"

"Cut the theatrics, Suki," Suguru interrupts her rant, standing beside me in a silent show of support. "You said it yourself. It's over. Don't embarrass yourself more than you already have."

He must have been in the crowd watching things play out. We've been best friends since preschool, and he's one of the few people I can count on always to have my back.

"Mind your own business, Suguru," Suki spits out. "This is a private conversation between me and my boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," I interject. "You were just telling me you wanted to break up, remember?"

"And from where I'm standing, this is as far from private as you can get," Suguru adds. "Now, why don't you and your friends get lost?" He shoos her like a dog.

Suki's cheeks turn bright red when the hallway fills with laughter. "Are you really going to just stand there and let him disrespect me?" she whines.

"Suguru's right. It's best if you leave," I say calmly.

"You'll be sorry," she fumes. "Don't come begging to win me back when you see me with my new prom date tonight. He's a freshman in college," she throws in my face before storming away.

Her entourage hurries after her, and the crowd quickly disperses now that the spectacle is over.

It shouldn't surprise me that she has another date lined up. She would never risk the humiliation of going alone.

"Good riddance," Suguru mumbles under his breath. "Remind me again why you dated her. She is such a diva."

"I don't know." I shrug. "She was nice when we first met. Plus, all the guys on the Basketball team kept saying we'd be good together, so I figured, why not?"

In truth, I can't be with the girl I've always wanted, and Suki was a welcome distraction. She is attractive and popular and made me feel important—until my accident.

"College chicks are going to fucking love your scar. It makes you look badass." Suguru pats me on the back.

"Thanks, man," I say, ready to move on from this topic. "Where's Y/n?" I scan the hall as the group disperses, but she's nowhere to be seen.

Y/n, Suguru's twin sister, tags along most of the time, making her one of my closest friends.

The smug expression on Suguru's face turns serious. "You're not the only one who was stood up for prom. Toji broke things off with Y/n right before eighth period." His voice drips with fury. "He left her crying alone in the school parking lot."

I clench my fists at my side, the urge to kick Toji's ass building inside me. Y/n is the sweetest, most beautiful girl in school, and frankly Toji never deserved her.

"What a scumbag," I spit out in disgust. "He needs to be put in his place." No one disrespects Y/n and gets away with it.

"Get in line," he snickers.

"Where is she now?"

"I'm not sure. She said she wanted to be alone and took off on her bike," Suguru says with a worried frown. "I should skip prom and go look for her. I'm sure Shoko will understand if I have to cancel our date."

I shake my head. "There's no reason for you to spend the night wallowing in misery like the rest of us. Go home and get ready to pick up Shoko. Don't worry, I'll find Y/n." There's only one place she would go if she wanted to be alone without dealing with unwanted visitors.

Except for me, that is.

"Are you sure?" Suguru asks, concern etched on his face.

"Absolutely. We'll make a night of it," I assure him.

If I could convince Y/n to attend prom with me, I'd do it, but knowing her as I do, she'll want to stay as far away from Toji and the dance as possible.

Suguru nudges me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Look, there's Toji now." I glance over to him walking toward the school entrance with his friends. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Suguru questions.

"That it's time for payback?" I smirk, cracking my knuckles as I stalk toward Toji.

Suguru cracks. "You read my mind."

As I pull up to the old Yaga's place, a smile crosses my lips when I spot Y/n's robin-blue bike parked against the house. The place has been abandoned for over twenty years, but it's become the hangout spot for my siblings and friends. N/n, in particular, has taken a liking to it and comes here when she needs peace and quiet.

I make my way through the overgrown lawn to the backyard, where I find Y/n. She's stretched out on a flannel blanket, her sanctuary under the shade of the giant oak tree, lost in a book. Her h/c hair falls in waves down her back, a sight that always takes my breath away. I smile when I see she's wearing her favorite pair of Doc Martens.

Seeing her like this takes me back to the day in our tenth-grade English class when she came in wearing a white V-neck top, light-wash jeans, and those same Docs. Even though we've known each other our whole lives, that was the first time I saw her in a new light and I swear my heart skipped a beat when she waved at me with her signature megawatt smile. I couldn't take my eyes off her during class.

When the bell rang, Suguru grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out into the hall, shoving me against the closest set of lockers. He noticed me watching Y/n and warned me she was off-limits.

I couldn't jeopardize our friendship because of a crush on his sister, so I did my best to suppress my feelings for Y/n. It wasn't easy. Something about her called to me, and it kept drawing me in like a gravitational pull, despite my best efforts.

Like she can sense that I'm thinking about her, she looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks as I approach. My chest tightens at seeing her sad. I would do anything to take away her pain and bring a smile to her face.

"Mind if I join you? I brought dinner." I hold up a bag of takeout from Maidreamin Café—Her favorite Store in Shibuya.

"Did Suguru send you?" She eyes the food warily.

"No. He told me what happened with Toji, and I figured this is where you'd be," I answer truthfully.

Without waiting for an invitation, I sit on the blanket and set the bag in front of me. Y/n watches with interest as I take out two bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and a chocolate shake topped with extra whipped cream and a cherry—all her favorites.

"Why come if you knew I wanted to be alone?" There's a hint of sass in her voice.

She's not afraid to go head-to-head with me and doesn't hesitate to set me straight when I'm out of line.

"My mom always says chocolate is the best cure for a broken heart." I hold out the shake, a smile tugging at my lips when she takes it.

"She's absolutely right." Y/n grins as she takes a sip. "Want to tell me why you're here with me instead of at prom?"

"Suki dumped me after school," I state flatly.

"Oh, Satoru, I'm sorry." Y/n places her hand on my arm. "I hate that bitch," she says with conviction.

Her touch sends a jolt of electricity down my spine, and it takes every ounce of willpower to maintain a poker face. She has no idea how I really feel about her, and it has to stay that way.

A few weeks after Suguru told me Y/n was off-limits, Suki showed interest in me, and I threw all my energy into our budding relationship. She was the perfect distraction, helping me temporarily forget about my attraction to Y/n, those feelings simmering below the surface.

"It's for the best." I shrug, reaching across Y/n to grab a fry.

"Oh my god, Gojo," she gasps when she spots the swollen knuckles on my left hand.

"What happened?"

I grin at her use of my last name. She's called me that since ninth grade when I started playing Basketball. Gojo was stitched across the back of my jersey, and the nickname stuck. Y/n has always resented that Y/n calls me that, but I couldn't care less what she thinks now.

I like it when Y/n uses it. I love it.

"Tell me what you did," she presses when I don't answer her question right away.

"Toji Zenin said something that pissed me off, so I punched him in the face," I tell her with a grin.

She gasps, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh, Satour, please don't tell me you did it because of me."

"Do you want me to lie?"

She shakes her head. "I want the truth."

"I did it because he hurt you," I confess simply. "He deserved it." When he called Y/n a frigid bitch after Suguru and I confronted him for dumping her, I let my temper take over. I have zero regrets.

"You shouldn't have done that," she scolds me, a worried look on her face. "What if he had hit you back? You could have been hurt."

I laugh, pointing to the scar on my face. "As long as he aimed for the left side, we wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"That's not funny, Satour." Y/n scolds me. "Toji was provoking you. His dad is the president of the school board, you know this. What if you get suspended?"

God, her protective side is so adorable.

I've been sent to the office so often that I'm on a first-name basis with the principal. I have a habit of letting my fists do the talking when someone is being a bully and am late more often than not. One more offense won't make a difference.

In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter anyway. Graduation is only a month away, and I don't think I want to go to college. Not that I've had the courage to break the news to my parents yet.

"It was worth it," I promise Y/n. "Now eat before the food gets cold."

"You don't have to tell me twice." She grabs a burger and unwraps it before taking a large bite. A subtle moan escapes her lips as she chews.

"Good?"

"Mm-hmm," she acknowledges around her mouthful of food.

I'm entranced as I watch juice dribble down her chin. Without thinking, I gently wipe it away with my finger, freezing when I realize what I've done.

"Sorry," I say as I yank my hand back.

Her e/c eyes meet mine as she traces her mouth where my finger grazed.

"Don't be." She offers me a reassuring smile. "You know I'm a messy eater, so I appreciate it."

I clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm happy I could help." I brush the sauce off on a napkin before I do something out of line like lick it from my finger.

Thankfully, Y/n isn't paying attention. She's chewing methodically, lost in thought. "Why are boys so stupid?" she mumbles under her breath.

"I could ask the same question about girls," I tease.

"Hey." She playfully slugs me on the shoulder. "We're not all self-absorbed snobs like Suki. Honestly, I'm not sure what you ever saw in her."

She was a distraction.

What stings the most about what happened with Suki is the fear that other people will react the same to my scar. I used to be comfortable in my own skin, but since the accident, I'm not so sure anymore.

"Hey, Gojo," Y/n says, her sing-song voice snapping me out of my pity party.

"Yeah, N/n," I reply.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"I'm not sure," I answer honestly.

"Is it weird that I do?" She watches me, anticipating my reaction. "I like to think there's one person out there that I'll grow old with and who will love me unconditionally, no matter what." She chews on her lower lip as she considers her next words. "What if I'm destined to date losers for the rest of my life?"

Y/n is a dreamer who sees the world with a glass-half-full mentality. Which is why I don't have it in me to tell her that Toji most likely won't be the last man who breaks her heart.

Relationships are messy and tangled up with so many emotions, and I, for one, plan to avoid them in the future. They're nothing but complicated, inevitably leading to pain. Why anyone would want to subject themselves to that brutality is beyond me.

"N/n, you're only seventeen," I remind her. "You've got plenty of time to find your one."

"But what if he never comes?" She leans back, looking up at me with those innocent e/c eyes.

God, why does she have to be so pretty?

"I'll tell you what." I give in to temptation and play with a strand of her hair. "If you can't find him, and we're both still single when we're thirty, we'll get married."

Y/n bursts out laughing. "You can't be serious."

I've never been more serious in my life.

In an alternate universe, I like to think that I could be her one. The person to make her laugh every day, her Prince Charming, and the one she couldn't live without.

In this reality, I'm just the court jester she tolerates because of my sense of humor and upbeat attitude. I'm not the prince who sweeps her off her feet, or the knight in shining armor she rides off into the sunset with.

"I may not be your first choice, but I promise you I'd be an excellent substitute," I tease.

Y/n raises a brow in a silent challenge. "Oh, really?"

"Absolutely. I would make you laugh every day, make sure you had an endless supply of takeout from Maidreamin Café, and build you a dedicated room for your shoe collection."

She bats her eyelashes. "How could I ever refuse such an offer?"

"Do you have a pen in your backpack?"

An idea strikes me, and I decide to run with it, fully committed to this ludicrous, yet oddly inevitable agreement.

"Yeah, sure." She nods, grabbing her bag from the other side of the blanket. She pulls out a black ballpoint pen and hands it to me.

"Thanks." I take a napkin from the pile that came with our food order, set it on the discarded fry box, and hunch over to write.

"What are you doing?" Y/n cranes her neck to get a better view.

"You'll see." I cover the napkin with my hand so she can't see what I'm writing.

Midway through, I look up to find her gaze locked on mine. It's as if time stands still and we're the only two people in the universe sharing a connection deeper than words. A silent agreement, connecting us in the moment.

She's the first to look away, and I quickly return my attention to the note.

"There, that should do it," I announce triumphantly when I've finished.

"I don't know if a napkin would hold up in court." Y/n giggles when I hold it out for her to read.

Satour Gojo & Y/n Geto promise to marry each other if they're both single when they turn thirty. This agreement is legally binding.

"Well, we better sign it then." I scribble my name at the bottom and pass it to her along with the pen.

She uses her book as a hard surface beneath the napkin, sticking the tip of her tongue out in concentration as she signs her name neatly next to mine. I'm mesmerized by the details of her heart-shaped face, the smattering of freckles across her nose, her long eyelashes still damp with tears.

What was Toji thinking, letting her go? She's so damn beautiful.

And off-limits, I remind myself. Suguru has made that crystal clear.

"There, all done," Y/n declares with her signature smile.

Someday a lucky son of a bitch will give Y/n everything she deserves—but it won't be me. The consolation prize is knowing that I did something today to ease her heartache, even if just a little, and her smile makes it well worth the effort.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

i think i found my fav arcana blog, i rlly love ur hcs and writings!!! (and i don't even usually read that much,,)

i wanna know how the m6 would react to mc, who does journaling but never had anyone read their journal, offering the m6 if they want to read their private journal

The Arcana HCs: M6 reading MC's journal

~ I kept a journal for several years until my siblings were old enough to decipher my handwriting and use it as blackmail lol. Thanks for the prompt anon, enjoy! - brainrot ~

Julian

Noticed you writing in it every day and has been dying of curiosity to know what you're writing about but respects your privacy too much to even bring it up

There have been one or two times when you left it on a table (not open) and he spent a good five minutes fixated on it from across the room, mind going crazy

You finally walk in on him one afternoon, draped across one side of the couch and twisting his gloves while staring holes into the notebook on the opposite armrest

So you sit down next to him and let him read it with you

Double checking multiple times that it's okay for him to be reading this - "are you sure that you're sure?"

Reading about himself from your perspective and how he makes your life better makes him so happy

He also notices how you've kept his love notes and flowers pressed between the pages and the sheer romance of it will make his brain melt

Blushing, stuttering mess

Now whenever he writes you something or picks a flower for you he's thinking about the best way to make it relevant years later, since he knows you'll save them

Asra

Journaling started for you as a daily exercise when you were relearning to write

It was Asra's way of giving you a piece of your life that you had total control of, and of encouraging you to chronicle your days to cope with your memory loss

Over time it also became a place to write down all the things you wanted to say to them while they were gone

So late one night, when you're stargazing together and you find you're on the second to last page of the notebook he gave you so long ago, you reread it with him

It's one of the most precious moments you'll ever share with them. No magic or adventure involved, just the sweetness of revisiting your history together

It also gives you the chance to let him read all the things you felt you couldn't tell him, which brings so much resolution

By the time you're finished reading and talking and snuggling the birds are starting to chirp and the sky is getting lighter

For them, reading about all the ways you noticed and thought about and loved them when there was so much distance between you two makes their heart so full it aches

Nadia

At first she assumed it was something like a planner, where you would write down leads and information and connections

But then she saw the different notebooks you kept for studying, and the system you had to keep track of your scheduled events

She was a little embarrassed at how long it took for her to realize that it was a journal

Once she knew, she was intrigued. She wasn't going to pressure you to show her at all, but she's certainly curious

One day you're flipping back through your entries and you begin to giggle. It's the last thing before she caves and asks

"MC, my darling, what's making you laugh?"

You're immediately scooting over to make space for her next to you and pointing to the right spot on the page

It's a small anecdote you had recorded of Natiqa pranking Nahara and Nazali when Nadia wasn't around

Once you two start reading together she doesn't stop. With your permission, you spend the next two hours reminiscing

You write about her like she's the most important, wise, and confident person in the world, and it fills her with humble gratitude

Muriel

Noticed on the trip south. Wasn't curious. Didn't ask.

Now its been months, you two live like an old married couple in the woods, and he has no idea how to bring it up this late in the getting-to-know-you game

Practices the possible words to ask you in the early mornings while he's feeding the chickens and you're still asleep

The chickens don't have much feedback

You, on the other hand, have mistaken his stoicism for disinterest, so you haven't taken any initiative to let him know that you're open to talking about it

Inanna gets fed up one day and grabs your journal in her mouth, leading you on a chase through the woods, right to where Muriel is fishing

Casually drops it as soon as he tells her to, right into his lap, and heads away for a nap

You sit down next to him and check for torn pages. As soon as you feel his interested gaze, you're offering to read it to him while he waits for the fish to bite

He's not ready for how often he features in your stories, but hearing the way you describe him as safe and gentle and precious makes him feel so fuzzy inside

Portia

The first time she sees you writing she's already asking what it's for

As soon as you tell her it's a journal, she's asking you to let her read it. If it's written by someone as mysterious and exciting as you, it has to be good!

At this point you've known her for all of two days, so you say no

Disappointed but understanding. She doesn't pester you about it, but she makes sure to let you know that she's very interested if you ever feel like sharing

You take your time, but one evening after dinner while you're snuggled up by the fire you'll pull it out and start reading to her

The best audience you've ever had. She is honed in, hanging onto every word while she covers a very happy Pepi in scritches

As someone who fell in love with novels because they whisked her away into adventures she didn't feel important enough for otherwise, hearing you recount your shared story like this tugs on all of her heartstrings

She'll laugh and cry and gasp at all the right moments. From now on, she treats your journal like a sacred thing. After all, it's the most important story in the world

Lucio

He was already sneaking peeks over your shoulder when he was stuck to you as a not-ghost. Man has 0 concept of privacy

You knew he was looking because he was commenting on your handwriting and gossiping about any tidbits he thought were juicy

Considering how you barely knew him at that point, you didn't write in front of him again for a very, very long time

It actually created a lovely habit - at some point during the day, you'll take half an hour to yourself and journal

It's been months now and you've forgotten why you had the habit in the first place, so when it's raining one evening you just stay in the inn and write next to the fire

The difference in Lucio's approach speaks volumes. He asks what you're doing, and when you tell him, he asks if he can hear some of it

He makes no move to get up from where he's polishing his sword (it got wet)

He listens while you read, interjecting with a comment or two, perfectly content

He's a bit sheepish about what you had to write about him in the beginning, but hearing how much he's changed fills him with healthy pride. Oh, he adores you