#With time we will make something better. But for now we have what we have. And we are content with that.

[norrisainz33]

the call pt 2 || platonic grid & gr63

summary: y/n finishes out the triple header strong after being called up to race for alpine

pairing: platonic!grid x george russell x rookie!driver!reader

fc & warnings: none and minor hate comments, bad language, and bad grammar from my end

a/n: i've never had this many people request a part 2 before so i hope y'all enjoy!! I'm going to keep her racing in the remainder of the season so keep an eye out for the rest.

part 1

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by pierregasly, ynuser, yourbff, yoursibling, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 876,234

alpinef1team: a point in the bag for pierre and another good drive for y/n 💼

view all 435 comments

user2: solid result for the team!!! y/n ate in her second race ever

user99: a team of losers tbh

ynuser: yay for points! let’s go pierregasly

pierregasly: we go again in brazil! points for both of us there 😉

ynuser: everyone better make sure to bet on us 🙂‍↔️

yourbff: let’s go best friend(s)!!!!

ynuser: 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: great stuff ynuser

ynuser: thanks georgie

user1: notice how he is always supporting her…. is there something here?

user2: they’ve been friends since their karting days!! if you asked me back when they were in f2 if they were tg i would’ve said yes bc they were kinda sus but now idk

user1: gonna go research the lore on their f2 days

✿

you let out a huff as you threw your padel racket on the ground and wiped the sweat from your brow, “god dammit lance! how are you so good at this!?”

laughing lance shrugged, “maybe you and george are just really bad!”

george shook his head, “no mate that can’t be it!”

you took a long drink of your water as the pair continued to bicker. “did you both see the weather for the weekend?” you asked changing the subject so they’d stop.

“yeah, lots of rain it seems.” lance put his racket into his bag and looked up at you with concern. “have you raced in the rain before?”

you shook your head, “no not really. i mean when i was karting yes but outside of that not really.”

“blimey y/n/n,” george ran a hand through his hair. “you’ve been going over those scenarios with your team right? there’s a chance of some really heavy rain.”

“i have, i have. i’ll be ok!” you assured them both with a smile but your friends looked anything but reassured.

✿

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: jesus christ you’re so hot

user4: im obsessed with you holy f

georgerussell63: green is a good color on you. tho i think mercedes blue is better

ynuser: you mean alpine blue and pink

georgerussell63: nah i’d like to see you in my colors

ynuser: oh?

georgerussell63: you heard me

francocolapinto: 👀

ynuser: and you’re coming to play with us next time yea?

francocolapinto: si bonita

yourbff: H O T

ynuser: thanks bb

ynuser: also i think george might be flirting in my dms rn?

yourbff: WHAT?!

ynuser: he said he wants to see me in his mercedes kit

yourbff: oh that’s 🤭

landonorris: you look tall here

ynuser: thanks shortie 🩷

landonorris: uncalled for

user5: thanking your parents for doing it tbh

✿

holding in a yawn you turned to walk back to your garage after the brazilian national anthem. the 5am wake up for this ‘super sunday’ as they were calling it was catching up with you despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. you had had the qualifying session of your life, which despite the cool confidence you played it off with in your interviews after, shocked you just as much as it shocked everyone else. you qualified in 4th. yes, you read that right, p4. something about the car came alive in the rain and you prayed it came alive again during the race but the rain was starting to pick up and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. you’d already seen several red flags in quali and would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t terrified that that was about to become you in the race.... especially with the threat of the entire field behind you, including max verstappen, wanting to push forward and push forward fast regardless of the consequences.

“y/n!” a hushed voice caught your attention. george had caught up to you and had a serious look on his face. “please be careful out there,” he pleaded.

“you too george,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “i’ll see you on the podium, yeah?"

"yeah," george winked as you turned to head into the alpine garage.

your engineer, james, handed you your helmet as he went over a few more pieces of data. he was stressing over the litany of different plans the team had put together in the very short window between quali and now. the heavy rain and your heroic lap times caused just about everything your team had prepped to be turned upside down.

“right, right i’ve got it james. plan a seems the most logical if i can keep everyone behind me.” you said as you pulled your helmet onto your head and fastened the strap.

things were about to get interesting.

✿

f1 has made a post

liked by alpinef1team, yourbff, yoursibling, yourfriend, ynupdates and 435,725 others

f1: the race is stopped under the red flag for a crash….. and y/n y/l/n is our new race leader! after running a surprisingly strong p4 for the first half of the race, she took the lead when those in front pitted for new tyres. y/n is the only woman in history to lead a lap in a grand prix

view all 432 comments

user1: not them calling her performance surprising 🥴

user2: I KNOW THATS RIGHT!

user12: only gonna last a second. she can’t even compete with the likes of verstappen

alpinef1team: @ everyone behind, y/n.. can we pretty please keep it this way?

yourbff: real tears are being shed rn this is monumental

user9: god is this amazing

mercedesamgf1: we love to see this historical moment! even if we’re coming to take it back 😉

user11: literally the most amazing thing i’ve seen all day

✿

you ripped another tear off from your helmet wishing it would make it easier to see but to your dismay, you still couldn’t see a damn thing. the rain was coming down in buckets, your inters were worn, you were fighting the car even in the straight lines to keep it on the track and worst of all, you were scared shitless. you had no moment to even be happy about your current position in p1 because you were too busy trying not to send your car into the barrier.

“max is 2 seconds behind you and gaining very quickly. gasly is 1.2 seconds behind max and leclerc is 0.9 behind pierre.” james updated you on the radio which sent you into a fit of rage.

“james for fucks sake i don’t care!!! stop giving me timing updates!! i can’t see the road so i can’t do anything about it!!!” you almost screamed. "i can't even pass half throttle!"

“rain is expected to lighten in about 10 laps,” james reported ignoring your outburst.

“10 LAPS?! how am i supposed to survive 10 laps?!?!?” as you yelled you felt the rear of your car start to slide causing you to need to quickly snap it back into place. “there is so much standing water james - i can’t keep doing this. the front straight is like a swimming pool!”

“yes you can, y/n. lock in and calm down. you only have a couple of laps left in this class of rain.”

“lock in? calm down!? and what if i crash this damn car first?!” turning off your radio you tried to take a few deep breaths while focusing on the road in front of you. you couldn’t panic - that would only make matters worse. you had to stay calm. you knew your car, you knew to deviate off the racing line to avoid the slippery curbs in specific turns, and you knew that you had to make it through whether you wanted to or not. panicking was not going to help anyone but there was little way to explain just how scary it was on track at this current moment.

another snap of significant oversteer left you breathless and near tears. “james im so serious - i need wets and even then i don’t think they’re going to be enough. there's standing water on every part of this track. i can't race like this on these tyres. please talk to fia. please we need a red flag.”

“pitting doesn’t make sense right now, you’ll come out in traffic and your race will be over.”

“i care more about making it out of this race alive than coming out in traffic.”

“understood.”

✿

✿

“they couldn’t have taken any longer with that red flag could they?” you snapped as you pulled your race suit down to your hips.

“no they really couldn’t have! it was getting ridiculous out there.” pierre grabbed his water bottle, "driving couldn't have been more dangerous."

“alright you two! thats enough!" your team principal interrupted, looking very serious. "we have a real chance of keeping this double podium finish especially because george and lando pitted before this red flag and lost a lot of time," he explained. "y/n, you’re going to have to push, there’s not much chance you’ll be able to keep max behind you but we’ve got to be fast enough to keep george, charles and lando behind pierre.”

right... keep 3 of the fastest drivers on the grid behind you both.. you were going to need a real stroke of luck.

✿

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by yourbff, yoursibling, ynupdates, rubendias, jackhughes, robmcelhenney, and 843,124 others

alpinef1team: THEY DID IT!!! Y/N AND PIERRE CROSS THE LINE AS P2 AND P3! HISTORY MADE

✿

"thats p2 y/n - great job! the entire team and i are so fcking proud of you."

"AHHH YES YESSSSSSS!!!!" you screamed into the radio, banging your hands against the steering wheel, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT JAMES!!" the emotions hit you like a brick wall, and tears quickly began falling. "thank you all so much. thank you for this opportunity. thank you to the mechanics, to everyone back at the factory, to every single one of you. thank you for believing in me when no one else did."

"you're welcome, y/n. you deserve it. you deserve it all kid."

pierre rolled up next to you to drive the remainder of the cool down lap by your side. he waved excitedly and you waved back without hesitation - you both had achieved what felt like the impossible.

you were the first woman to ever stand up on the podium and you were the first woman to score points in formula 1, but you knew you certainly weren't going to be the last. if you would do anything with your remaining races, it would be to show the world just how much women belong in this sport.

you pulled into parc ferme and shut off your car as quickly as you could. you fumbled with your straps and when you finally got them off, pierre was standing above you with his hand held out. you smiled, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull you out of the car. "we did it, p -" you said just loud enough for him to hear over the cheering.

"we did it, y/n/n." pierre replied and with that, you both turned and ran hand in hand to your team who was waiting with open arms to greet their heroes.

✿

ynuser has made a post

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, pierregasly, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 943,124 others

ynuser: we did it 🩷 thank you to alpine for believing in me, thank you to pierre for being the best teammate a girl could ask for, thank you to my friends and family for supporting me through the ups and the downs and thank you to my fans -- i love you all so much

view all 999 comments

user1: i've never shed so many tears over a race before

yourbff: i feel like a proud parent rn

ynuser: thanks for never giving up on me bestie

georgerussell63: you're a force to be reckoned with y/n. congratulations on an impressive drive! today is your day 🤍

ynuser: mark your calendars! 11/3 is national y/n day

landonorris: speechless... i am so proud of you. if someone had to be up there besides me, i'm so glad it was you 😉

ynuser: thank you lanny. only thing that would have made it better is if you were with me up there 🩷

user10: tea LOL

francisca.cgomes: i dont think i've ever been happier?? my two favorite people are on that podium?

ynuser: stop dont make me cry agAIN

pierregasly: thankful for you mon ami

ynuser: 🤍🩷

lewishamilton: being a barrier breaker is never easy y/n but you are crushing it. i am proud to race with you!

ynuser: you have no idea how much this means to me lewis

user9: thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to prove everyone wrong

user95: nothing could have prepared me for 1) them running hand and hand to their team, 2) y/n crying tears of joy on the podium and 3) gr63 picking y/n up and twirling her around in parc ferme

user2: george and y/n were so cute it was actually sickening. did you see the way he fixed her hair after putting her down

user95: and how he wiped away her tears??? yeah i saw it 🥹

user2: i want them together so bad

user10: you are going down in the history books

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!!! likes, feedback and reblogs are welcome!! massively appreciate all of the support on this little series. i am really enjoying it too

tag list from part 1: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @rafeyybabyy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[xinganhao]

📅 seungcheol x fanbase!reader.

the one where seungcheol gets all most of his svt news from your no-nonsense fanbase. headcanons & bonus content under the cut.

📅 a timeline of seungcheol's gradual descent to madness following of user svtdotcom .ᐟ

it is 2015. seungcheol is on top of the world. he's survived seventeen project. he's finally debuted. the group has just released 17 carat. against all of his seniors' advice, he looks himself up on sns. the man is a leo through and through, after all. one of the first things to come up is something called svtdotcom. brows furrowed, he clicks on to the account. it's with a thrill that he realizes you're a fanbase— a fanbase! seungcheol used to only dream of times like these. he follows the account excitedly. he doesn't even check, yet, what type of posts you make. you're a fan of the group. in the beginning, that's enough for him.

it is 2017. seungcheol rides the most planes he has in his life. well, at least to his 22-year-old self. the world tour takes him to thirteen cities. there's so many timezones and a never-ending feeling of jet lag. in his down time, he finds himself checking your page. he's mildly impressed— no, that's a lie. he's very impressed. you update your steadily growing following about each stop. the dates, the anticipated weather, the set list. in his hotel rooms, seungcheol will fall asleep with his phone in his hand. anyone who dares to look might find that the last thing he'd been looking at was your account.

it is 2018. seungcheol learns japanese. nothing too drastic. just the usual pleasantries. konnichiwa. aishiteru. sayonara. he studies up enough to sing, to pull off their first japanese EP. that is, until he checks your page and realizes you're translating now. you weren't kidding when you said you would be one of the group's international fanbases. seungcheol can hardly imagine the work you're putting in for the sake of maintaining your page. for the sake of telling more people about the group. he's shamed in to studying a little harder; in a way, you make him want to be better. he wants to be able to say arigato, thank you, in every language you might know.

it is 2020. seungcheol's world screeches to a halt. he feels like he's in limbo, like no amount of digital singles or pre-recorded content can reach the people he needs it to. he's disappointed. he's frustrated. he feels robbed of the life he could have lead. dramatically, he thinks it's the end for him. except you don't seem to think so. you, with your zoom events, your discord server, your throwbacks on slow days. you work doubly, triply hard to keep the group relevant, and seungcheol can't seem to decide if he wants to cry or laugh. because someone is in his corner. how could he take that for granted?

it is 2024. when seungcheol hears people talk about the group being around for 'nearly a decade', he thinks of a lot of things. he thinks of the show champion trophy they won for pretty u. he thinks of the instinctive way his body responds to say the name! we are—... he thinks of you, oddly enough. he can bullshit himself and say that he thinks in general terms, but the plain and simple truth is this: where millions of fans, dozens of executives, and twelve boys look up at seungcheol, he finds that he's looking towards you.

BONUS CONTENT .ᐟ

⌗ ┆a very special shoutout to the anon whose prompt recommendation helped me realize this smau (ᗒᗨᗕ) they said: "YK how seungcheol is always up to date with news regarding seventeen? what if you write a seungcheol x reader where the reader runs a fanbase having no nonsense type news and no opinions or anything but just news regarding and for seventeen and she also doesn't let people talk shit about them under her page? that's how seungcheol knows news first??"

[savanir]

A sister's love

The justice league hurriedly responds to a call for backup at a little in the middle of nowhere place by the name of Amity Park. 

The situation had seemed so simple. 

A Star Sapphire had suddenly shown up on Earth which isn’t immediately cause for concern but she was unidentified, so a lantern was definitely going to have to look into it if only just to make sure that nothing bad was going on. There are two planet side green lanterns, Simon and Jessica. So they responded to handle the potential situation. 

Things rapidly spun out of control when they realized it wasn't just a Star Sapphire. 

"I hate to say this but we're gonna need backup" Simon tells Cyborg, "the Star Sapphire has brought something with her. My first guess was a white martian but..." The other one can do some manner of density shifting, and he can go invisible, but they know ways around that. Whatever this one is doing isn’t that though.

"Why isn't this working!?!" Comes Jessica's slightly panicked voice in the distance, "he keeps just going through my creations! dammit, think think Jess" She tried to contain him with a flamethrower construct but he just ignored it, like he’s seemingly ignoring everything else she’s throwing at him.

"Our constructs have zero effect on the other one, the alien, meta? man I don’t know he’s human shaped" 

"What is the situation other than the two hostiles?"

"Uh we got some government agents who are retreating because of the Star Sapphire wrecking their stuff. And the civilian people here seem to be falling under her influence, so she must be human. She's from here, she needs emotional connection to pull that stuff off."

The people are furious, the violet glow around them clearly indicates that the girl is using her ring to amp them up but if Simon didn’t know any better he’d say this was red lantern stuff.

Well there are more ways to whip people up into a frenzy, by hurting their loved ones for example.

There is a brief moment where it can be heard that Simon and Jessica try to get into a more advantageous position. 

Simon grunts, "dammit, those agents seemed to have weapons that actually worked on the other guy but the Star Sapphire used her violet constructs to shield him and destroy their guns and we've been struggling since" this whole situation stinks, he has a weird feeling about all of it.

"Simon this is really really bad, i can't keep restraining all these civilians, we're running out of energy fast!"

Cyborg tries to get a visual on the situation from his position in the Watchtower while he’s notifying any league affiliated heroes who are nearby and available. 

But all of a sudden he realizes there is just nothing, just a big lap of void where the two lanterns are supposed to be, there is no cctv footage, no cell towers, no internet connection. Just what the hell is going on here.

Then the audio transmission starts to violently crackle.

A new voice laced with static can suddenly be heard, "There you two are"

"Shit"

"Is the justice league coming yet? Are they finally going to do something?" the staticy voice continues.

"Stay back you-"

"Or maybe they still need more of a reason to act" 

The audio cuts out. 

"Jessica! Simon! Come in!" ... "Shit!" 

Cyborg finally gets a clear picture with the satellite cameras and now sees the entirety of Amity Park has been covered with a crystalized violet dome. It’s then that he remembers the story Hal told quite some time ago now about a Star Sapphire who managed to put a whole planet into love stasis.

They are gonna need more help with this one he thinks.

Meanwhile Jazz is still shakily trying to figure out how her new pink powers work, now that all the fighting is over (for now), the GIW forcefully expelled from Amity, and the two Justice league people captured and restrained.

Everything happened so fast, one moment the GIW had knocked out her brother and were forcefully taking him away and while she saw them drive off (she was pretty sure she was screaming) a pink thing just froze her in place, She was pretty sure someone said something about “great love in her heart” and then she was… well she was flying and- and there wasn’t really any time to question things then so she may have kinda gone and ripped into the van that had Danny.

She’s pretty sure she healed him, and then things just completely spiraled out of control from that point on. and now she’s here.

She’s pretty sure this is crazy villain behavior, she’s going to get put on some sort of watchlist and then she’ll never get to be a psychologist but it’s fine.

Her little brother is safe, that’s all that matters. And she will keep it that way.

[vaiyamagic]

When I was a kid, schools taught you the "golden rule": Treat others the way you would like to be treated. They also taught us to wait our turn.

When I used to go to church, we were taught Jesus wanted us to be kind to others and to give to the poor.

My parents taught me to say please and thank you and to be nice to people even if you didn't really like them. I was taught "if you don't have something nice to say, don't say it at all."

Less than 10 years ago, my (now) boyfriend and I could afford a nice apartment in a decent area with the pretty good wages we made. Now that we both make more money than we did back then, we can't afford the same size apartment in the same area.

I used to buy name brand things because they used to be better (usually.) Either they tasted better, lasted longer, had a feature the others didn't like resealable containers, or they were better built, etc. Now, a lot of times, there is no difference, or the name brand is actually worse, usually smaller, and often even more expensive.

We didn't used to have a fire season. It used to rain every June, usually a lot. It almost never rains in June anymore.

What radicalized me? Life and my memories.

"Who radicalized you"

Actually I was taught at home that it's rude to be shitty at other people for no reason, and then some americans decided that this is a radical political ideology.

[harunayuuka2060]

'Oh, why must I be plagued by such 'ineptitude' around me? I gave you one simple task: bring me Idia Shroud. And what did you do? You captured two random students and held them hostage!'

Arcane Hunter A: But boss, one of them is a fae, and I remember you were fanboying over someone like that on TV.

Arcane Hunter B: *nudges him* *giving his partner a look to shut up*

Arcane Hunter A: What?

'...'

'A fae?'

Arcane Hunter A: Yeah. And they're good-looking too.

*The mysterious figure seems to have been reminded of something.*

'Ah, of course... They're also enrolled at Night Raven College... Haha! How could I have overlooked such an important detail?'

Arcane Hunter A: Uh... Boss?

'I suppose I can pardon your failure on this mission... for the time being.'

MC: For those who call themselves Arcane Hunters, they certainly seem to lack the ability to properly secure hostages.

MC: Anyway, how are you feeling, Ortho?

Ortho: I feel much better now, and I’ve already sent our coordinates to my brother.

Ortho: Also, thank you for the repair.

MC: *smiles* I only managed to gather the tools you needed, but you did all the work.

Ortho: *giggles* I was impressed when you managed to sneak out without anyone noticing.

MC: *chuckles then stops*

Ortho: They're back.

MC: Yes, and they've brought someone with them.

*The Arcane Hunters entered the room, accompanying the person in front of them.*

Arcane Hunter A: *noticed that Ortho is awake*

Arcane Hunter A: Huh, looks like the robot kid can fix himself.

Arcane Hunter B: S.T.Y.X technology is truly impressive.

Ortho: ...

'Now, now, don’t frighten the poor child. We wouldn’t want to appear rude in front of our esteemed guest, would we? *looking at MC and smiles*

MC: ...

MC: Pardon me, but I don't believe we've met before.

'Indeed, we haven't had the pleasure, for I am merely an admirer, utterly captivated by your performance in the Sing and Dance Competition. Ah, forgive me—I seem to have neglected a proper introduction.

*kneels in front of them, taking MC's hand*

I am Remington Ashford, 23 years old, and still searching for a partner who will truly appreciate me. *kisses the back of their hand, gazing into their eyes*

MC: ...

Ortho: Ew.

Arcane Hunters: This little—

Malleus and Ruggie: *both seething in anger*

Malleus: Shroud, are you familiar with this Ashford?

Idia: *sigh* Yes. He's the boss of the AetherTech Industries.

Ruggie: Sounds bougie, but it doesn't ring a bell.

Idia: Of course, it just opened not too long ago.

Malleus: Then, does he need something from you?

Idia: I don't know. *frowns* But whatever it is, I'll make sure he'll regret hurting Ortho.

[leth-writes]

bait

SUMMARY: Damian would like to welcome you to the family.

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Normally, Damian would hate being babied. He was a trained assassin, the blood of Ra’as Al Ghoul ran through his veins, he was the son of the feared Bat! And yet, here he was, sitting in your kitchen, watching you make him some (vegan) mac n’ cheese. 

Originally, Damian did not understand the obsession his family seemed to have with you. He spent days complaining, stomping around the manor, irritated that his family was wasting time with some… weakling. It seemed that every time he walked into a room, the only topic of discussion was you.

As one of the newer additions to the family, and a biological one at that, it seemed he had missed out on something vital to his family. So, he decided to just… ask, as his father would advise,  just why they were wasting time on someone who wouldn’t ever be able to adhere to the illustrious standards his family had set. 

The person he decided on was Grayson, someone he normally looked up to.

He sat across from his older brother, who was preoccupied with that insipid app that Drake had designed, keeping track of your vitals and ensuring your safety. Finally, fed up with being ignored, Damian cleared his throat to alert his brother of his presence.

Grayson looked up and beamed, bouncing up to flop down next to Damian. 

“What’s up, lil’ D?” Grayson asked, voice jovial even as he spared a glance at his screen.

“Tt. Grayson, I must… request your assistance.”

“Anything for you, lil’ D!” Grayson leaned over and rustled Damian’s hair. Damian, annoyed, fixed his hair and leaned away.

“I do not… I do not understand your recent… Preoccupation. It seems the family has decided, rather unanimously, that we will be gaining a new member. I do not understand why we must lower our standards!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

Grayson’s eyes softened. “Oh, lil’ D. It’s alright, you’re new, we should’ve known this would be confusing…” He looked away, staring out the window for a second, letting out a little sigh. 

“I’m not really sure how to explain it, but sometimes, sometimes people, especially people like us, get… passionate. Dinah likes to explain it away as the way we… deal with the constant loss, the uncertainty. Vigilantes don’t ever do anything in halves, afterall.”

“But why, but why them? They have nothing to add to our family, Grayson! They cannot fight, they are not trained, they have no extraordinary skills!” Damian huffed.

“Well, it doesn’t always make sense, Damian, and it doesn’t need to. Sometimes, sometimes people just… click, it doesn’t always have to make logical sense. I think if you got to know them, maybe you’d understand it a bit better.”

Grayson smiled, looking back at Damian. Damian looked away, blushing. He didn’t like not getting something; it made him feel vulnerable, weak, like he was missing out on something everyone else just seemed to get.

“And this is, this is… typical, for vigilantes such as our family?” He asked, voice quiet with mortification. Grayson smiled softly.

“Of course, Lil’ D. There’s nothing wrong with being passionate, and there’s no way we’re gonna let someone else get hurt. I mean, just think about it; do you think they could defend themselves?” 

Damian shook his head.

“And there’s no way they’ll be able to defend themselves. As vigilantes, especially in Gotham, we see the truth, we see how nasty the world can truly be. Most civilians just don’t get it. So, I think we can be forgiven for being a little intense, right?” He laughed, elbowing Damian gently.

“I mean, just think about Jon getting hurt.” 

Damian scowled. “I would not allow it. It would never happen.” He said, certainty clear in his voice.

Grayson snorted. “I know, Lil’ D. I’m just using him as an example; now take those feelings, and imagine if Jon couldn’t defend himself. “

“I-I do not know what I would do.”

“And that’s okay, you’ll get it eventually, okay? It’s hard to come to terms with, at first.”

“I still do not understand why you have chosen such an unworthy target for your affections, but I will… try. To understand.” Damian looked down, face tinged slightly red in embarrassment. 

Grayson ruffled his hair again, and peeked at his screen. “Maybe ask Cass to take you, or Jason? I have a shift in a little while. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you, Damian. It’s okay to have questions, to not get it. It’ll click eventually.”

So, Damian did.

While embarrassing, the idea of not getting something that was clearly of high importance to his family rankled in his chest. So, he approached Cain and asked for her help.

She was in her studio, as she normally was at noon on the weekends, working on a new routine. Damian paused in the door, waiting for her to finish up. No matter how many times he saw her, especially during her performances, he was always surprised by just how graceful the young woman managed to be.

It was normal for his family to move with a lithe grace, especially Grayson, who seemed to move so fluidly he lacked a skeletal structure, couldn’t compete with the natural poise Cain held herself with.

She finished up her routine with a flourish, then rose to her feet with a sigh. She floated over to her water bottle and took a sip, before turning around to face Damian. She smiled gently, eyes crinkling at the corners, her slightly damp choppy black hair framing her face perfectly.

“Little brother,” she said, delight clear in her voice. 

“Cain,” Damian greeted, nodding his head and moving into the room.

Cain sank to the floor, back against the mirrored wall, and patted the wooden floor next to her. 

“Sit,” she said.

He did. There was no refusing Cain, after all.

“You seem… confused.” She glanced over at him, taking another small sip.

“Yes. I do not… Understand the new obsession you have all taken with that Civilian.”

Cain nodded. “Yes.”

“Grayson explained the general feelings of protectiveness, but was unable to elaborate; why them?” Damian crinkled his face, nose scrunching.

Cain laughed. “Stubborn, not seeing.” She poked his forehead, startling him. He scowled further, rubbing the spot. It didn’t really hurt, but he was not about to let her get away with poking him like a child!

She snickered at his bewildered expression. 

“It is hard to explain… Instinct.” She hummed, looking away in contemplation.

“Innocence. They do not know… the violence, the heartache… they are kind.”

So it was about the contrast, Damian concluded. The difference between a trained vigilante and a weakling.

“They cannot… protect self. Need help. Like baby.” She continued, sighing and leaning a hand against her cheek, propped against her knees.

“Like… Like Titus, or Alfred the cat. Need looking after.”

Just like that, it clicked.

You were utterly defenseless. Completely alone, with no one to prevent you from being hurt, or worse, killed. You were like a young kitten, unable to open their eyes to see their savior, like the one Damian had fostered.

A warmth bloomed in his chest. You would be like the kitten, and he would protect your innocence, no matter the cost.

Cass smiled widely, scrunching her nose. 

Just like that, Damian was clamoring to get involved. He could not wait until you were home, and he would be able to ensure your safety, keeping you from losing that childlike innocence, that thin film over your eyes preventing you from seeing the true danger.

It was Drake who had the brilliant idea to place Damian in the field; Damian, for all of his sword-related faults, was still young, after all. Someone as naive as you would be sure to enjoy looking after such a cute child, not being able to see who was truly caring for who.

While both Grayson and Todd had failed to make your acquaintance, it seemed you were too aware of stranger danger to fully fall for the ruse, he knew Cain had made inroads as a member of your book club. Surely, having a young brother by her side would only make it easier to get closer to you.

And just like that, the trap was set, and Damian was ready to act.

The next week, your book club would be meeting to discuss the selected offerings. You had wisely offered up Pride and Prejudice. Damian could still hear the muffled curses Todd had let out; you had no clue the extent to which you had so thoroughly endeared yourself to him, just by picking an Austen novel. Damian could not help but be amused, Todd was easy to enthrall despite his tough exterior; it was almost comical. 

Cain had brought him with, dressed in clothes he was told were appropriate for his age (Grayson had laughed and forced him to stand for pictures. He would secure his revenge, and make sure to talk badly about him. He would be victorious in the so-called prank war, after all, and you would stand at his side, unscathed.).

You opened the door, smiling and bringing Cain in for a hug. Even from his position, he could see Cain melt into the hug, smiling and bringing an arm up to pat your back gently.

“Hello,” she sighed as you pulled back, looking her over.

“Oh, Hello!” you said, looking down at Damian. 

He sighed internally. It would take everything he had, but the thoughts of showing you Bat-Cow would get him through the evening. He smiled brightly, artificially pitching his voice up slightly.

“Hi!” He said, stepping forward and shaking your hand with vigor. “I’m Cass’s brother, Damian!”

“Oh, so you have a brother?” You said, smiling even brighter. It almost hurt Damian’s face in sympathy, how widely you were able to smile. Was it due to your innocence?

You ushered the two of them inside.

“Yes, Our father forgot Damian would be home tonight, and did not arrange for a babysitter.”

“Oh, that’s more than alright! Here, are you hungry, kiddo? I’ll make you something to snack on while the book club gets going! Cass, you can take a seat if you want.”

Damian watched as you puttered around the kitchen, enamored with the way you seemed completely oblivious to the danger present in your home. You were lucky he was there to protect you; what if Cass hadn’t been a kind person? You would’ve had no idea you were letting a threat into your house, and into your life! Luckily for you, Cass would never harm a hair on your head, let alone let you get hurt.

“Milk okay for the Mac n’ cheese, kiddo?” You asked, not bothering to turn around as you pulled down a box.

He informed you he was vegan.

You took it in stride, pulling out some soy milk. He was almost surprised you would have some, but your clear kindness would never allow you to potentially offend a guest. Damian could feel a bout of cuteness aggression overtaking him, and he clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood under the lip of the counter.

The rest of the night passed without incident, though you seemed particularly interested in Damian’s contributions to the conversation about Austen’s works. He could not help but be satisfied at the impression he had made; it was not his fault the majority of the people you surrounded with could not understand basic literary analysis, after all.

Every week for the next few months, Damian would tag along to book club; he eventually managed to become your favorite conversational partner, though Cain was a close second, as you slowly began to ignore the others in the club. It was better this way, after all; they could not protect you.

However, Damian soon became frustrated by the lack of progress. They were talking to you regularly, yes, but he wanted you safe at home! He could tell the others were building in frustration as well, and yet the consensus remained; they would need to take more time.

So, he approached Todd.

And Todd agreed.

The plan was set.

Damian waited breathlessly in the alley by your workplace. It would be easy, after all, to get you to follow him down into the dark.

The second he saw you, he took a few wide steps back, and began to scream.

“Help!” He shouted, crumpling to the floor. He let his voice take on a tinge of desperation, pitching slightly higher to exaggerate his innocence and hopefully trigger your panic so you would approach without a second thought.

It worked, and your pounding footsteps soon approached.

“Hello?!” You called, frantically dropping to your knees in front of his crumpled form.

“D-Damian?” You cried, searching desperately for the injury.

Behind you, he could see Todd approach, syringe in hand. 

He let out a groan and rolled over, head in your lap. As you ran your hands over his back, looking for something, he surreptitiously grabbed your waist, hoping to prevent you from running, just in case.

Finally, Todd was in range. He stuck the syringe into your neck without a second thought, and you were out like a light.

Damian was just glad your hand had landed in his hair.

[antimonyandthyme]

body swap, for carcar or even landoscarcar?

He wakes up, disoriented. It’s not even light out yet, why the fuck is he awake? His throat’s a little sore, his hips are a little sore. Jeez. Didn’t even bother to put some pants on last night, and did he chafe his ass on like, the sheets or something? Wow. He’s sore all over. A settled, pleasant kind though, a muscle ache too deep for him to reach. Maybe he can skip the gym today, hop on a stream, relax. Grab Carlos for a round of golf before he leaves, if he’s not too busy mapping Monaco on his bike.

He turns to his left. Claps a hand over his mouth, shrieks into it.

Like, he’s groggy. He doesn’t have the remnants of a disaster headache, so he’s not hungover. But it’s early, and he never wakes up early. Must be why he’s hallucinating.

When he can bring himself to look again, Carlos is still there. Close enough that Lando can hear the air whistling softly through his teeth.

Lando shifts uselessly, stares. That’s Carlos, alright. He’s always been a loud sleeper. Back in their McLaren days, when they’d shared hotel rooms, Lando had taken voice recordings to prove to an adamant Carlos that he snored. The memory makes his lips twitch. It’s nice Carlos looks well-rested. Better than he has in awhile. A pretty trophy will do that for you. If he wants, Lando can choose to waste precious time counting Carlos’s lashes while he figures out what to do. He’ll lose count at probably a hundred.

That’s Carlos, alright.

What were they doing last night? Surely Lando would remember. The party was loud, raucous, the Prince of Monaco victorious here at last. All podium finishers present, fourth place included. Drinking, laughing, cozying up to one another. Carlos and Oscar smiling tentatively at each other after sharing just one couch, animosity seemingly forgotten. The prickly itch crawling under Lando’s skin, until Charles finally manages to bag him a set. The music, beats pounding a tattoo into his brain. He remembers all of that.

Surely he would remember taking Carlos’s clothes off. He’s wanted to for—

Lando slaps both hands onto his cheeks, hard enough to sting. He needs to take a leak.

He squeaks out of the bed, as quietly as he can. Trips over a pair of jeans that look vaguely familiar, rams his toe into the wheel of a suitcase that definitely wasn’t there last night. Finds the bathroom, closes the door with a silent snick.

Fumbles around like a dunce for the light switch, right there where all light switches usually are.

Flicks it on. Shrieks for real this time, without his hands to cover the noise.

It’s a good thing Carlos has always slept like the dead. To be absolutely fucking certain, Lando peeks his head out.

Yep, still asleep. That’s Carlos, alright.

Deep, deep breaths. As deep as he can go without passing out. He returns to the mirror. Feels for his face like it’s a foreign object.

Which it is. Because that’s Oscar Piastri, looking right back at him.

--

He means to start off with something useful. Something like, Hey, do you remember what drugs we were on last night? E? Salvia? Because mate, these are the strangest withdrawal symptoms I’ve ever experienced. Or even something funny, like Haha, now I know what you look like naked. The fans are going to have a field day.

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “Why are you sleeping with Carlos?”

“Good morning to you too,” Oscar says, after the longest pause on planet fucking earth.

He didn’t mean for that to sound as sulky as he did. But he’s sore all over, and his lips, which are not his, but Oscar’s, feel extremely kissed, and he definitely does not expect that to make something in his chest twist tighter than a coiled spring.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“What did we drink last night?” Oscar says, unsurprisingly choosing to be the level-headed one in this conversation.

“Something bright green, something ocean blue. Dunno. Lost track during the set.”

“Lando,” Oscar says patiently, in Lando’s voice. Which is just all kinds of weird. “Something green, something blue, doesn’t sound all that normal.”

“I knew that DJ couldn’t be trusted.”

The world-weary sigh Lando receives makes his skin prickle with heat. Things have been happening. The car’s gotten faster. From his grandmother to the mechanics, everyone’s been talking about a chance he could pull like magic out of thin air. It’s not his fault he wasn’t paying attention. At the club, or to every encounter Carlos and Oscar had prior to this that has led them here.

“Look, I’m gonna—where are you?”

“In Carlos’s room,” Lando says, rudely, unhelpfully.

“Right. I’ll. I’ll be there in. We’re staying just, two blocks away, right? I’ll be there in ten. Could you. Could you please, just—”

Lando expects him to say something totally condescending. Please just don’t freak out. Please just don’t do anything until I get there, because I’m being responsible and you’re being a baby.

“Just, go back?”

“What?”

“Be next to him, when he wakes up?”

Lando swallows. The acid from yesterday must be making his stomach churn. Oscar—in Lando’s fucking voice, sounds smaller and more hopeful than Lando ever wants to hear himself sound.

“I don’t want him to think.” Oscar stops. Lando can practically see him scrubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t want him to think I left, or anything like that. Could you—”

Lando hangs up.

The earnestness. The, the audacity.

The phone rings again, and Lando hangs up again, out of pure spite. He paces wildly, in front of the mirror. Each time he turns on his heel he imagines his body morphing back into what’s right. Each turn smacks him with the image that Oscar’s pale, freckled skin turns splotchy red when he’s angry.

What. A useful thing. To know.

It’s been half an hour since he’s woken up. Which means, oh fuck. Fuck. Carlos’s body clock has always been impeccable. Eight, on the dot, he springs out of bed like it’s a wonderful thing being alive at that hour, and then goes and makes coffee without fail. Which means in three, two minutes, Carlos will open his eyes. And, and he’ll be alone in bed.

He’ll be alone. That’ll make Lando feel better, right? Carlos will be alone, and then Oscar will no longer be a problem, and then the itch under his skin will disappear, for good.

Carlos will be alone.

He flicks off the light, slips out of the bathroom. Bangs his toe again on that damned suitcase. Slides under the covers, adjusts himself into a position he hopes might be believable. Head on one hand, face tilted toward Carlos. Body leaning, reaching. Always reaching. Eyes half-closed.

But open enough so that he can see the exact moment Carlos wakes. See that small, relieved smile. See the way Carlos clicks his jaw askew, the way he always does before making a decision. Then feel Carlos run the backs of his knuckles against a face he wishes were familiar.

[shoresoftheshadowlands]

This is misinformation please stop spreading it for fucks sake I'm sick of people spreading this goddamn proven false conspiracy theory on my dash there are NOT missing votes. They are being counted. Goddamn it. You're making us all look like Stop The Steal morons. We are better than this. This is also old news I've seen this post for almost a week now. There's also now a fucking Elon 'stole' the election conspiracy going around now too and it is just as false. I'm sick of reblogging it with the accurate info and I'm sure my followers are sick of seeing it too. You all need to STOP. You need to ACCEPT. We lost, Okay? it was NOT a landslide, recent tallies prove that. I'm so tired of repeating myself but I want people to understand they are being made fools of by hopes and denial when we need acceptance and resistance now.

The title on this one and the thumbnail are slightly misleading but Lawrence goes into the numbers on how this wasn't as much of a landslide as it is being portrayed as, current as of yesterday. It's worth the listen, about 15 minutes of your time.

I will post this ONE more time for the people in the back. I am exhausted. This is not being 'defeatist', this is being realistic and accepting. There was no fraud last election and there wasn't major fraud in this one. There were some idiots who burned some ballots, WAY LESS than many reported (None in georgia btw). Most were saved by anti fire mechanisms in the ballot boxes, only some 450 ish were lost and people were contacted to 'cure' those.

The count is STILL ongoing- That's why we don't know yet the entire house and senate.

Please people I am begging you all to use your heads. I know it is tempting to want to believe this couldn't possibly have happened but it did, and we need to move on from here. A lot of places are already vouching to resist Mr.Dump in every way they can, even refusing to mass deport even if ordered. If we're all stuck on the conspiracy theories how are we going to pay attention to what's actually happening right now and resist it?

I haven’t really seen any of the more recent U.S. election news hitting tumblr yet so here’s some updates (now edited with sources added):

There’s evidence of Trump cheating and interfering with the election.

Possible Russian interference.

Mail-in ballots are not being counted or “recognized” in multiple (notably swing) states.

30+ bomb threats were called in and shut down polling stations on Election Day.

20+ million votes are still unaccounted for, and that’s just to have the same voter turnout as 2020.

There was record voter turnout and new/first-time voter registration this year. We definitely should be well over the turnout in 2020.

U.S. citizens are using this site to demand, not only a recount, but a complete investigation into election fraud and interference for the reasons stated above:

Here is what I submitted as an example:

An investigation for election interference and fraud is required. We desperately need a recount or even a revote. The American people deserve the right to a free and fair election. There has been evidence unveiled of Trump cheating and committing election fraud which is illegal. There is some evidence of possible Russian interference. At least 30+ bomb threats were called in to polling places. Multiple, notably swing states, have ballots unaccounted for and voting machines not registering votes. Ballots and ballot boxes were tampered with and burned. Over 20 million votes that we know of are unaccounted for. With record turnout and new voter registration this year, there should be no possibility that there are less votes than even in the 2020 election.

Sources (working on finding more links but if anyone wants to add info, it’s appreciated):

FBI addressing Russian interference and bomb threats:

Emails released by Rachael Bellis (private account, can’t share original tweet) confirming Trump committing election fraud:

Pennsylvania's Centre County officials say they are working with their ballot scanner vendor to figure out why the county's mail-in ballot data is "not being recognized when uploaded to the elections software:”

Wisconsin recount:

[ID:

Multiple screenshots and images.

The first is a screenshot with a link and information for contacting the White House directly regarding election fraud. The instructions include choosing to leave a comment to President Joe Biden directly and to select election security as the reason.

The screenshot then instructs people to include any or all of the following information in a paragraph as a comment to the president:

32 fake bomb threats were called into Democratic leaning poll places, rendering polling places closed for at least an hour.

A lot of people reporting their ballots were not counted for various reasons.

This all occurred in swing states.

This is too coincidental that these things happen and swing in his favor after months of hinting at foul play.

Directly state that an investigation for tampering, interference, fraud is required, not just a recount.

The second image is from the FBI Twitter account that reads:

The FBI is aware of bomb threats to polling locations in several states, many of which appear to originate from Russian email domains. None of the threats have been determined to be credible thus far. https://t.co/j3YfajVK1m — FBI (@FBI) November 5, 2024

The next four Gmail screenshots of an email sent to Rachael Bellis from Chris T. Spackman that read together as follows:

Dear BELLIS, RACHAEL E., The Dauphin County Board of Elections received a challenge to your absentee ballot you applied for in the November 5, 2024 General Election. The challenge argues that a provision of the Pennsylvania Election Code takes precedence over the federal Uniformed and Overseas Citizens Absentee Voting Act (UOCAVA), which requires states and counties to permit U.S. citizens who move overseas to vote by absentee ballot for federal offices based on their last U.S. residential address.

The full text of the challenge that was filed appears below this email.

You may respond to the challenge in any of the following ways:

1. Call the Bureau of Registration and Election at (717) 780-6360;

2. Email a statement to the Bureau at Election election@dauphincounty.gov. Any statement you submit regarding the period during which you lived in Dauphin County, any family or connections that you still have here, and why you are now residing abroad would be read into the record.

3. Appear in person at a Board of Elections hearing scheduled for Friday, November 8 at a time to be determined in the Commissioners Public Hearing Room, 4th floor of Dauphin County Administration Building, 2 S 20d St, Harrisburg, PA 17111. The meeting is also likely to be livestreamed on Facebook on the Dauphin County channel.

Sincerely,

Christopher T Spackman

TEXT OF CHALLENGE BEGINS

Dear Dauphin County Board of Elections,

I am submitting this challenge to an absentee ballot application pursuant to 25 Pa. Stat.

3146.8(f).

25 Pa. Stat. 3146.8(f) Any person challenging an application for an absentee ballot, an absentee ballot, an application for a mail-in ballot or a mail-in ballot for any of the reasons provided in this act shall deposit the sum of ten dollars ($10.00) in cash with the county board, which sum shall only be refunded if the challenge is sustained or if the challenge is withdrawn within five (5) days after the primary or election. If the challenge is dismissed by any lawful order then the deposit shall be forfeited. The county board shall deposit all deposit money in the general fund of the…

The rest of the forwarded email is cut off.

The last image is a screenshot of the official statement from the Centre County, Pennsylvania Board of Commissioners released on November 6, 2024 that states:

Centre County Working with Ballot Scanner Vendor to Export Election Results.

(Bellefonte, PA) -Centre County Elections Office is working continuously to provide mail-in ballot data in order to post unofficial results.

To this point, all ballots have been scanned, including all mail-in ballots.

Centre County's Election team and IT team have identified that the data are successfully being exported from the mail-in ballot scanners, but that the data is not being recognized when uploaded to the elections software.

Centre County's Administrator, John Franek, Jr. stated, "We have not stopped working, and we will continue to work until unofficial results are posted and reported to the Pennsylvania Department of State."

As a next step, Centre County has begun working with the equipment vendor to adjust configurations to make the two systems-the mail-in ballot scanner and the elections software where data are uploaded -compatible with one another.

We will provide updates as we make progress.

/end ID]

[myth1cs]

Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)

Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617

As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.

"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."

When he said that I turned to Yeji.

"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"

"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"

After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.

"What was that Y/N?"

"Ryujin? What are you doing?"

"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."

"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."

"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"

"Yes but only-"

Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.

"Don't go over to her house."

"Why?"

"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."

"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"

"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."

Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.

I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.

I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.

At Yeji's House

I knocked on the door and waited for a response.

After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.

"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"

"Sure am Yeji."

Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.

After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.

"Y/N is that your phone?"

"Yeah why?"

"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."

"Don't worry about it Yeji."

I went and put me phone on silent.

"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"

"No it was just a spam message."

"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."

I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.

"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"

"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"

"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"

"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."

"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."

Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.

"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."

I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.

"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"

"Yeah sure let's do it."

I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.

"Let's go back to our work Y/N."

Next Day

As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"

Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"

Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"

I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.

When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.

"Y/N make your way to room 304."

"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.

"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."

I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.

"Glad you decided to follow me."

I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.

When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"

Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.

Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"

"Actually she's my girlfriend."

I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."

"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.

"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."

"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.

"Come on Yeji let's go back."

After School

As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin

Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."

I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."

I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.

"Hello?"

"Come in!"

When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.

"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"

I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.

"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"

"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."

Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.

"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."

Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.

"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."

"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"

Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.

"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"

"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"

Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.

"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."

Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.

"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"

"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."

Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.

"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"

I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.

Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.

"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.

Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.

"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"

"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."

Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.

I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.

"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"

"Ryujin!"

I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.

"Please Ryujin!"

"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."

"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"

Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.

"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."

"Mommy please!"

My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.

"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"

Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.

Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.

"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.

The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.

"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"

"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"

"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"

I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.

I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.

"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."

"Kiss me."

Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.

"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.

Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.

"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"

"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"

"Did you hear something Ryujin?"

"No must've been the wind."

I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.

"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"

"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."

Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.

"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.

I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.

"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."

"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."

"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."

-

The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.

"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"

"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"

"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.

I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.

"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.

"So your cock does still have some life in it."

"Yeji please no more."

"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"

I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.

"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"

"Yeji my cock is so sore!"

After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.

"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."

"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."

"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."

Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.

-

The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.

"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.

"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."

"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"

"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."

I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.

"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."

"What!?

"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."

Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.

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

If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired

Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.

[save-our-life]

Amidst the destruction, there are still small moments of peace. 🕊️ My cat 🐱 reminds me that even in the darkest times, there’s always something to hold onto. 💫

A smile 🙂 hides the struggles we face daily in Gaza, but our strength remains. 💪

We continue to hope for a better future 🌱, even when the present feels so uncertain. 🌧️

Even in times of war ⚔️, we stay resilient. The weight of the world 🌍 is heavy, but we push forward, standing tall with hope in our hearts. ❤️

Life After the Destruction of My Home 🏚️💔

My life took an unimaginable turn when my home was bombed and reduced to ruins. 🏠💥 The place I once called home, where I shared countless memories with my family, is now nothing but rubble. 🧱

Walls that used to protect us have crumbled, and every corner of the house is filled with shattered dreams and broken belongings. 🖼️🪑💔

Now, I live in a tent, trying to make sense of the pieces of my life that are left. ⛺💔 The cold nights ❄️ and the hot days 🌞 make every moment in this tent a struggle.

There is no comfort, no privacy, and no sense of safety. 🥀 Every day, I wake up hoping for peace 🕊️, for a chance to rebuild, but right now, that hope seems distant.

This experience has taught me about the fragility of life. 💔 I never imagined that in a blink of an eye, everything I had could be taken away. 🌪️ Living in this tent ⛺ is a daily reminder of what was lost, and yet, it is also a reminder to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult the path may seem.

But amidst all the destruction, I remain hopeful. 🌱 Hopeful that one day, I will have a home again 🏠, where my family can live in peace 🕊️, free from fear and destruction. 🌈

Dear friends and supporters,

My life changed forever when my home was destroyed in the recent bombings. 💥🏚️

Everything I once had - my home, my belongings, and my sense of security - has been reduced to rubble. 🧱 Today, I live in a tent ⛺, trying to survive day by day in harsh conditions. 🌧️ With no permanent shelter, and limited resources, I face an uncertain future. 🌍

I am reaching out to you for help. 🤝 Any contribution, no matter how small, will bring me one step closer to rebuilding my life and finding a place where I can feel safe again. 🏠 Your generosity will provide me with the basics I need to survive and start over. 🙏

Please share my story and help me spread the word by sharing this link with your network. 📲 Together, we can turn this devastating situation into a chance to rebuild and restore hope. 🌱

Thank you for your kindness and support during these difficult times. ❤️

@paper-mario-wiki @90-ghost @wayneradiotv @sayruq @womanaction @wellwaterhysteria @writerqueenofjewels @gazavetters @routeriver @anneemay-blog @appsa @the-eldritch-it-gay @thebibi @thosemotivationalquotes @the-bastard-king @designmycatastrophe

@a-shade-of-blue @bilal-salah0 @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@nesmamomen

[demonic0angel]

Anger management idea

Jason got himself trapped in a fairy circle. It's not ideal, but it's far from the worst day of his life. And the Fae trying to free him is cute, even though she's having trouble using her magic.

Jason leaned on his hand as he sat on the ground. He sighed through his nose, wondering why he even had the stupid thought of taking a shortcut.

Tim was a descendent of a fae himself, so why on earth did he do this when he knew better?

He lifted his eyes up.

At least the faery that had appeared out of the ring was cute.

He watched her flutter around, her delicate wings flapping as she muttered to herself, a tiny book in her hands. Her wings were like a butterfly’s, black with white and turquoise spots. Her brilliant red hair contrasted against the dark colors and her clothes, made of water fabric and flower petals, sparkled within the sun.

“I’m sorry,” the faery said again. “I’ll get you out soon.” She had taken it upon herself to help him, despite how Jason had nothing to offer her. He was already grateful that she was willing to do something, so he didn’t feel angry.

“It’s okay,” responded Jason nonchalantly. “Take your time.”

At this rate, she wouldn’t figure it out for another hour and he could take that time to relax and watch her flit about like a nervous hummingbird. She was so beautiful that it wasn’t even a chore.

The faery perked up then. “Wait! I think I got it!”

Jason smiled at her. “Go ahead.”

She waved her hand and chanted a small phrase. A little raincloud appeared from her fingers and then a small thunderbolt struck, slamming into the ground. Jason jumped, eyes wide and the faery cried out in shock before waving her hands again, dispersing the cloud.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” She cried out, looking tearier by the second.

Jason lightly presented a hand and she stepped onto his palm trustingly. “Hey, it’s okay, Princess. I’m fine. We can just try again. But may I give a suggestion?”

She nodded, looking miserably down at the black spot her thunderbolt had made on the grass.

“How about we make a fey contract? You get me out of here and I’ll do a favor for you. Would that be alright?”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. Jason resisted the urge to shiver at the sudden glint of greed in her eyes as she smiled, her wings fluttering as she nodded eagerly.

Oh no.

“Okay! Let’s make a deal, human!” She closed her book shut and slid it into the bag she kept by her side. Her smile grew into something sweet and dangerous, like poisoned honey. “Shall we form a contract right here, right now? Tell me, what’s your name, human?”

Oh fuck.

Just what had he gotten himself into?

[botslayer]

I can't imagine what kinda hell my boss is experiencing right now. We all knew something was off when she came back from her little break in October. She was pleasant, sure. Downright personable and charitable to us all. And that was precisely the problem.

Andrea was the furthest thing from pleasant. She conspired to get people fired. Half of us recorded our interactions with her. The other half were already looking for other jobs anyway. Not that the rest of us weren't at least toying with that idea.

But when she came back, not denying people time off for no reason, not redoing consistent schedules without telling us, not randomly dropping overtime she didn't intend to pay in our laps, we knew something was off.

And then, Trish saw it first. Andrea, feeling helpful, loaned her a mascara wand when she couldn't find hers. But when Trish was fixing her makeup, she had to look back in the lady's room mirror of course... And Andrea's reflection was crying. Tears ran down her face in the mirror as it held that same, placid smile. Curiously, though, Andrea's face was dry outside the mirror.

Trish didn't panic, didn't fly off. Didn't mention it in the moment, but when she told the rest of us, we believed her. She didn't make things up, usually. Especially nothing that bizarre. We had to ask ourselves a few serious questions. After that and that one time her reflection began smoking on the day of the full moon. But there were two big ones. "What do we do?" And "Is it worth doing?"

Think about what a bad person you are for waffling on saving someone's immortal soul from what research tells you is demonic possession... But also think about what a bad person you would have to be for others to be waffling on it. None of us had missed a day off we asked for. None of us had to spontaneously cover a shift we didn't have to the day before. She was willing to cover. This thing in Andrea's body was a better boss than Andrea. All there was to it.

I wave at "her," from time to time. Whoever she is. Lucifer himself could be behind those eyes, doing god-only-knows-what to her spirit as it puppets her body like marionette.

And it's the damnedest thing. I just don't care.

It's been over a month since your manager was possessed by a demon. Yet, instead of fetching the nearest priest or throwing a bucket of holy water at them, you and your coworkers have just rolled with it, as the demon is WAY more bearable to work under.

[rafesapologist]

wise man ─ jj maybank

summary: jj is suddenly spiraling.

warnings: unedited, angst, plot twist, violence, blood

author's note: this plot is also not the exact same as season 4, just inspired by it so some things have been changed

This was the worst you'd seen JJ spiral in the 12 years you'd known him.

After being gone all night, he finally returned to the chateau, nothing short of maniacal and fuming. He burst through the front door, ignoring the confused looks plastered on his friends' faces. Instead of sparking up his usual conversation about whatever unusual discoveries he'd made, he made a beeline straight to his room.

"Uh, what the hell was that?" John B asked, his voice tinged with perplexity. Everyone exchanged glances, their faces mirroring the same confusion.

"No idea," Pope replied, just as uncertain as the rest of them.

You sat there in silence, a fretful look etched across your face. JJ had left early that morning without saying where he was going or why. You figured it was better not to ask, given the frantic way he’d left. You thought maybe he’d gone off to blow off some steam or handle errands, but based on his state now, you knew something far graver was at play.

You fidgeted with your fingers in your lap while your friends continued tossing around theories about what was wrong with JJ. But you couldn’t focus on their words—your own mind was too busy, running through the worst possibilities. Their voices blended into a distant echo, drowned out by the rush of your thoughts. It wasn’t like JJ to return so heated, especially without acknowledging any of his friends. Especially not you.

"Y/n?" Sarah’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, soft but urgent.

"We thought maybe you should go check on him," she suggested plainly, her eyes fixed on you, the others waiting for your reaction.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Your gaze flickered nervously across the room, desperately trying to read everyone's expressions, searching for some answer in their eyes.

"Why me?" you asked rather anxiously. Everyone exchanged glances, the answer written plainly on their faces: you know why. It was no secret that you and JJ had grown closer over the past two years, teetering on the edge of something more than just friendship. If anyone could get through to him and find out what was wrong, it was most likely going to be you.

You knew they weren't going to let you refuse—partly because they wanted answers, and partly because they were just plain nosy. They were all looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to be the one to break the ice. You sighed, feeling the weight of their pressure as you pushed yourself up off the couch.

"Alright, I'll go talk to him," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. You could feel their eyes on you as you made your way toward JJ's room, uncertainty following you with every step.

"Jayj?" You knocked softly, pressing your ear against the door. "It's just me."

The silence on the other side was deafening, so quiet you could practically hear the pounding of your own heartbeat. Seconds stretched into what felt like hours as you stood there, holding your breath, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment—a word, a movement, the creak of the door opening.

But there was nothing. Just that heavy, unbearable silence.

You knocked again, this time with a bit more urgency. The fear of what might be happening on the other side gnawed at you. "JJ, I just need to know that you're okay," you said softly, your voice tinged with a pleading desperation.

You held your breath, straining to listen for any hint of movement. The silence felt like it was swallowing you whole, the anxiety building with each passing second. Just as you were about to turn away, convinced he wasn't going to respond, you heard it—the faint creak of the door opening.

JJ stood in the doorway, his hair disheveled, his eyes clouded and unreadable. He looked like a shadow of himself, the usual spark in his gaze replaced by something darker and more distant. For a moment, neither of you said a word. The silence between you felt heavy, filled with all the things you wanted to ask but didn't know how to.

You shifted uncomfortably under his burning stare, your mind racing to find the right thing to say, but coming up empty. "Are you... okay?" you finally managed to cough out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes flicked away from his, unable to hold his intense gaze for long. You found yourself staring at the floor instead, the tension between you nearly suffocating.

JJ let out a low, sinister chuckle, the kind that made your stomach twist. It was the kind of laugh that told you everything was anything but okay. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends as if trying to ground himself. The motion was tense, almost frantic.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, the unease settling deep in your chest. Without saying another word, you took a step forward and slipped inside his room, gently shutting the door behind you. The soft click of the latch seemed to echo in the tense silence.

Turning to face him, you found JJ still staring at you, his expression blank but his eyes filled with a storm of emotions he was barely holding back. You took a slow, steady breath, trying to keep your own voice calm despite the worry gnawing at you.

"Tell me what's going on, Jay," you said, your voice gentle but firm. You met his gaze, refusing to look away this time. Whatever it was that had him spiraling, you needed to know. And you weren’t going to leave until he let you in.

"This has to stay between us, Y/n," JJ said, his voice frantic, barely above a whisper. His eyes locked onto yours, the sincerity and desperation in his gaze making your chest tighten. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else. Please."

You nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "Okay, I won't," you responded flatly, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want to push him any further, not when he was so close to the edge.

JJ’s hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair again, a shaky exhale escaping his lips. He looked at you like he was searching for something—maybe reassurance, maybe the strength to say what he needed to say.

"Luke isn't my dad," he blurted out, his voice cracking on the last word.

The room fell into a heavy silence. For a moment, you weren't sure if you had heard him correctly. You half-expected him to take it back, to say he’d worded himself wrong. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his shoulders tense, waiting for your reaction.

Your eyes widened as you absorbed the weight of his confession, struggling to process it. "How do you know?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced yourself to stay calm, fighting to keep the shock from seeping into your tone. The last thing you wanted was to set him off even more.

JJ let out a shaky breath, his eyes darting away, unable to meet yours. It was as if the truth was too heavy to hold onto, slipping from his grasp now that it was out in the open.

"He told me," JJ muttered, his voice breaking. "He told me he wasn't my real dad."

The room felt like it was spinning around you. The shock of his words hit you like a wave, and you struggled to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to add to the storm already brewing inside him. "When did he tell you?" you asked gently, taking a cautious step closer.

"Last night," JJ admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill. "I pushed him. I kept asking why he was like this, why he treated me the way he did. And he just snapped. He said I wasn’t his problem—that I never was. That I wasn’t even his kid.”

You winced at his revelation, the pain of Luke's words hitting you as if they were directed at you. Hearing them through JJ's voice, raw and broken, made it feel like a knife twisting in your chest. Your expression softened, filled with a deep, aching pity. The urge to pull him into your arms, to somehow absorb his pain and take it away, surged inside you.

"Oh, Jay..." you muttered, almost to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper. You reached out a hand but hesitated, unsure if he’d let you touch him in the moment of vulnerability. "This isn’t your fault," you continued, your tone weary. "You were just a kid. None of this is on you."

JJ’s reddened blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, one almost slipping free before he hastily wiped it away, as if even a single tear would break the fragile control he clung to. He shook his head, almost violently, as though he could shake off the truth itself. His jaw clenched tight, the muscle in his cheek ticking with every beat of his fraying composure.

"It doesn’t matter now," he spat, his voice brittle and sharp, tinged with a bitterness that made your heart twist painfully in your chest. "My whole life has been a lie, Y/n. Everything I thought I knew—it’s all bullshit. The guy I thought was my dad? He’s nothing but an abusive piece of shit who took out his rage on me because he could. And now… I can’t help but wonder if things could’ve been different. If I’d known my real dad, maybe I wouldn’t have spent my whole life thinking I was the problem. That I was the reason I was never good enough."

His words cut through the silence like shattered glass, sharp and jagged. You could see the rage roiling in his eyes—the deep-seated hurt and betrayal, tangled with a rage so fierce it almost felt like it could set the room on fire. His lip quivered, and his hands curled into tight fists at his sides, as though he could crush the pain away with sheer force.

"I hate him," JJ muttered, his voice low, trembling with a fury that seemed to burn him from the inside out. "I hate that he lied to me. That he made me believe I was his son, only to turn around and make me feel like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter. And now I’m stuck with this... this gaping hole in my chest. All I’ve got are these questions I can’t answer and a childhood I can’t get back. Nothing can change that. No words can erase what I’ve been through."

The anger in his eyes was raw, searing, but behind it, you could see the deep, aching hurt. He was trembling, his whole body taut like a bowstring about to snap. He looked like he was holding back a flood, desperately trying to keep himself from crumbling under the weight of it all.

Your heart ached at the sight of him standing there, so broken yet still holding onto the frayed edges of his pride. You took a step closer, moving slowly as if approaching a wounded animal, afraid that even the smallest movement might push him over the edge. Gently, you placed a hand on his arm, feeling the tremble of his muscles beneath your fingers.

"Jay," you whispered, your voice gentle but laced with a tinge of fear. You could feel the tension radiating off him, like he was barely holding himself together. "I know nothing can change what's been done," you continued softly, your words careful and deliberate. "And Luke... he was a horrible father. But what he did to you—that doesn’t define who you are. If anything, it only shows how fucked up he is, not you."

You watched JJ’s expression falter, the anger dissolving into something far more vulnerable—defeat. For a moment, you feared he might push you away, retreat behind that wall of bravado and anger he often used to protect himself. But instead, he looked at you, his eyes clouded with exhaustion, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his revelation was finally too much to bear.

“What’s worse,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, “is who my real dad is.”

Your breath hitched, a wave of unease creeping up your spine. You swallowed thickly, bracing yourself for whatever he was about to say, though you knew nothing could have prepared you for this moment. “Who?” you asked, the word slipping out almost involuntarily, like you had to hear it from him to believe it.

JJ’s gaze darted away, his eyes fixing on the floor as if he couldn’t bear to meet yours. He let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Chandler Groff.”

The name struck you like a lightning bolt, leaving you stunned. Chandler Groff—the man who had been nothing but a shadowy figure in your and your friends' latest troubles. You had met him just once, in that cobweb-covered mansion, where his strange demeanor and intense fixation on the cursed amulet had left you all feeling uneasy. It was hard to believe that the same man pushing so relentlessly for your friends' to complete Wes' mission, the same man who insisted on the curse’s reality, was JJ’s biological father.

Your mouth went dry as you tried to process the new connection. “Chandler Groff?” you repeated, more to yourself than to JJ. The pieces began to click together—the urgency, the obsession with the amulet, his strange behavior after Wes’s sudden death. It was as if a curtain had been lifted, revealing a truth far more twisted than you could have imagined.

“Yeah,” JJ spat bitterly, his eyes filling with a mixture of pain and fury. “The guy who’s been trying to manipulate us into handing over that stupid amulet. The same guy who’s got the cops breathing down our necks over Wes’s death. That’s who my real dad is.”

You took a step closer, feeling the gravity of JJ’s emotions pull you in, the betrayal and anguish radiating off him like a palpable force. Your chest tightened at the sight of him, broken and raw in a way you had never seen before. “I can’t believe this,” you whispered, your voice thick with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

JJ’s face twisted in frustration, his jaw clenching as he shook his head vehemently. “No,” he snapped, his tone sharp but wavering. “No more sorries. I don’t want your pity or anyone else's. I’m done thinking about it, done feeling sorry for myself.” His voice cracked, revealing the thin line between his anger and despair. He took a deep breath, his fists curling at his sides as he forced himself to look at you.

“We’ll find that bastard,” he continued, his voice low but filled with a burning resolve. “Chandler’s up to something, and whatever it is, it can’t be good. He’s been playing us from the start. All that crap about Wes’s mission and the curse—it was all just a setup. We need to figure out what he really wants before he makes his next move.”

You nodded, a determined look crossing your face. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get to the bottom of this together, Jay. Whatever Chandler’s planning, he’s not going to get away with it."

For a fragment of a moment, JJ's expression eased. He took in a deep sigh as though your words breathed life back into him, exemplified by the way his fists unclenched themselves and the veins in his neck disappeared.

"I'm sorry if I worried you earlier," he mumbled an apology, his voice full of regret, "I wasn't thinking. As soon as I heard the news I.. I just saw red." His confession was candid, as if he was slowly coming to terms with everything he had just learned in the past 24 hours.

You took a sigh of relief mentally, giving JJ a faint smile of approval. "It's okay, I don't blame you for it. I think I would've done the same," you reassured with buoyancy in your voice, "maybe worse."

JJ replied to your sentiment with a faint chuckle and a tenuous head shake, appreciating your wit in the wake of the chaos plaguing his life.

"Y/n?" JJ muttered, his voice nearly mute.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't think I could handle this if you weren't here." He admitted with of tone of gravitas that you had never heard from him before. You knew that what he was saying was vulnerable for him to confess, which made your heart flutter in your chest.

"I don't think I deserve that much credit," you joked, trying to break up the tension that filled the room between the two of you. You wanted to be raw and honest with him, to tell him you look for him in every man you meet, but it didn't feel like the right time to do so. Not when he was still processing the news about his father.

"You don't even realize how much you do for all of us, for me." This was a side of JJ you hadn't seen much before, maybe in glimpses, but never fully. He was standing in front of you, his eyes still adorned with sorrow but masked by the veneration he had for you. You felt small under his burning gaze but he held his eye contact, although you swore he secretly knew how you were crumbling beneath his stare.

"Jay—"

"Will you just stay with me tonight?" JJ softly implored, his desperate eyes making it hard for you to say 'no'.

"But what if they ask why I was in here all night? You know they're nosy."

"Let them ask," he shrugged, lying down on the bed next to you, "c'mon. Just for tonight."

He was convincing, but it didn't help that you already had a burning penchant for him. You stood there for a moment as you took in his figure, tragically beautiful and maimed by malice in an unjustly harsh life. His eyes felt haunting to look at as they painted a picture of the grief he so desperately tried to run away from, but he couldn't hide it from you.

"Okay," you silently replied.

You slid off your shoes and delicately climbed your way next to the empty spot in the bed next to JJ. A pair of cerulean eyes stayed glued to you as you nuzzled carefully under the covers. You dare not look over as he watched you in fear that you would make things awkward if you acknowledged his glance.

Once you felt situated, you closed your eyes in hopes that you would quickly fall asleep and get through the night, but before you could drift off you felt an arm drape over your waist and pull you in. JJ gently placed your head into his chest, letting you feel the beating of his heart in the dead of silence. You didn't move. You wanted to take in the moment and capture it in your mind, knowing that one day you'd look back at where you were and admire whatever happened right then.

—

"Okay, this is a lot to take in," Pope interrupted, his voice breaking the heavy silence that had enveloped the room. "But we need to stay focused. Chandler’s part in all this—his connection to JJ—it complicates everything. We can't just let it slide."

You looked over at JJ, his frustration and sarcasm evident in his posture as he leaned back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. "Tell me about it," he scoffed, his tone sharp, the sarcasm almost like a shield to deflect the rawness of what he had just shared.

Kiara leaned forward, her brow furrowed in thought as she looked between you and JJ. "So what do you suggest we do?" she asked, her voice steady, but the urgency was clear. "Because this... this whole thing is a mess."

JJ sat back against the couch, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he stared at the floor, his eyes distant. "I don't know," he muttered, frustration creeping into his tone. "I just... I need answers. We all do. Chandler Groff—he’s been playing us this whole time. And I don’t care what it takes, we’re going to find out what the hell he really wants from us."

Kiara exchanged a glance with Pope, then turned her gaze back to JJ, her expression serious. "We have to be careful. If we push too hard, we could end up walking right into his trap."

JJ nodded slowly, his jaw clenched, the tension radiating off him. "I know. But we need to find out what he's planning before he fucks us over." His voice was tight with anger and desperation, as if the weight of everything was finally hitting him.

Kiara gave a sharp nod, her expression resolute. "We can’t let him get away with whatever this is. But we need a plan. We can’t just go in blind."

Pope crossed his arms, clearly deep in thought. "Agreed. If we’re gonna do this, we need to stay one step ahead of him. Maybe we start by finding out more about Chandler’s connection to that amulet. The whole curse thing doesn't add up."

You looked between them, your mind racing. "And we need to figure out who else he’s been talking to, who’s been helping him. We might have enemies we don’t even know about yet."

JJ glanced at you, his eyes softer now, but still burning with that same fury. "Exactly. We need answers, and we need them fast." His tone dropped as he added, "I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything's normal."

"So we'll go find him," John B stated flatly, joining in on the commotion. His voice was steady, but there was an underlying edge to it that matched the intensity in the room.

JJ looked at him, eyes narrowing with determination. "Yeah. We find Chandler, get answers, and make him tell us exactly what the hell he’s after. No more games."

"Alright," Pope sighed, shaking his head but with a hint of resolve creeping in. "Then let’s do this."

He stood up, adjusting his shirt, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. Kiara let out a quiet breath, glancing at each of her friends as if to make sure they were all on the same page.

"Alright," she said, her voice firm despite the tension. "We stick to the plan—find Chandler, get answers, and stay smart about it."

JJ, now more determined than ever, stood up, the raw emotion in his eyes still burning, but his posture more focused than before. "We’ll go in, we’ll make him talk, and we’re walking out with answers. No one’s leaving empty-handed." His tone was cold, cutting through the room like a sharpened blade.

John B, always the one to lighten the mood, gave a half-grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Let’s just hope Chandler doesn’t decide to pull some crazy stunt. I’d prefer a calm confrontation over a full-out brawl."

You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at John B’s attempt to inject some humor into the moment. But as you glanced at JJ, you saw the weight of everything he was carrying on his shoulders, and it was clear that this wasn’t just another adventure to him. This was personal.

"We’ve got your back, Jay," you said, your voice soft but steady. "We’re in this together."

JJ looked over at you, a quiet acknowledgment in his eyes. "I know. Thanks."

—

The old house loomed in front of you, its once grand façade now cloaked in shadows. The mansion, still as eerie as ever, seemed to exhale a quiet menace. You stood there on the porch, a knot of anticipation tightening in your chest. Beside you, JJ's presence felt like a comfort, but the tension radiating off him was evident.

He gave the door a pointed look before knocking again, this time louder, more forceful, as if demanding an answer rather than simply waiting for one. It felt like an eternity before you heard the shuffling of footsteps from inside.

The door remained firmly shut, and just when you thought Chandler might not answer, the heavy locks rattled. The door creaked open, revealing Chandler standing in the doorway, his face unreadable. His cold blue eyes scanned you both for a moment, then his gaze flickered to the group standing a few steps behind you.

"Why are you here?" His voice was low, measured, though there was an edge to it that made it clear he wasn’t exactly thrilled by the visit.

JJ didn’t waste any time. His voice came out flat but with an undercurrent of something darker, something more urgent. "We need to talk. There's things we need to ask you about."

Chandler's eyes flickered over you both, sizing you up, his lips curling into something like a half-smile. He didn’t speak right away, his gaze lingering just a little too long, as if trying to decide whether to let you in or slam the door shut. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before he finally stepped back, motioning for you to enter.

“Alright,” Chandler said, his voice low and gravelly. “But we do this inside. The last thing I need is anyone overhearing this conversation.”

You exchanged a glance with JJ, his eyes full of fire and frustration. He wasn’t backing down, and neither were you. Together, you stepped past Chandler into the dimly lit interior of the mansion. The air inside was heavy with dust, and the smell of old wood and stale air lingered. The house was just as you remembered—huge, but strangely empty, like something had been hollowed out long ago.

“What do you two want?” Groff asked, his gaze shifting to the both of you.

JJ didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. He took a step forward, his jaw tight with suppressed fury. “Are you my real dad?” he asked, the words coming out sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife.

Chandler’s expression flickered for a moment, a brief flash of something unreadable crossing his face. He didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he stood there, a wall of silence between them.

“Are you?” JJ repeated, his voice growing louder, insistent. “Are you my real dad?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. JJ stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief and anger, his fists clenching at his sides as if the truth were too much to process.

JJ shook his head, almost in disbelief, his voice tight with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, stepping closer, his chest rising and falling with barely contained rage. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? Why all the games, all the lies?”

Chandler didn’t seem to flinch. He took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t the right time,” he said coldly, his tone flat. “And, quite frankly, you wouldn’t have been ready to hear it.”

JJ’s face twisted with anger, his eyes flashing with hurt. “You’re fucking unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, the weight of years of manipulation and deceit crashing down on him.

You stepped closer, watching the exchange unfold, feeling a mixture of sympathy and anger for both of them. “So this whole time, you’ve been using us?” you asked, your voice low and edged with disbelief. “This whole thing—Wes, the amulet—was all part of your plan?”

Chandler’s gaze sharpened, his expression unreadable. “Plans don’t happen overnight,” he said smoothly, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Everything has its purpose. And now you’re part of that purpose, whether you like it or not.”

JJ looked like he was about to explode, his body shaking with barely contained rage. But instead, he took a deep breath, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “We’re done being your puppets. Whatever your plan is, we’re stopping it.”

Chandler’s smile widened, but it was thin, like a wolf’s grin. “You think you can stop it?” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You don’t even know what you’re up against.”

“We’ll find out,” JJ snapped. “And when we do, you’re going to wish you never dragged us into this.”

"Not so fast," Chandler warned, stepping forward, his eyes never leaving JJ’s. "You have something I want."

JJ didn’t flinch. His blue eyes were burning with defiance, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. “I’m not handing over shit, Groff,” he growled, voice low and filled with venom. “You want something, you’re gonna have to earn it.”

Chandler’s lips curled into a cold smile, his posture never wavering. He looked almost pleased with the reaction. “Oh, I don’t think you fully understand yet, JJ. I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you—you will give it to me.”

There was a brief pause, the tension in the room so thick it could be cut with a knife. Chandler’s gaze flicked to you, then back to JJ, as if trying to gauge the next move.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," Chandler continued, his tone dangerously calm. "That amulet you’re holding onto? It’s not just some trinket. It’s mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get it back."

Before you could even process what was happening, Chandler’s hand shot out like lightning, grabbing you by the wrist with an iron grip. The surprise hit you all at once as he yanked you forward, his movements swift and precise. Your breath caught in your throat, panic flooding your senses.

You struggled instinctively, but Chandler’s hold was unyielding, his fingers digging into your skin as he jerked you closer. “Stay where you are,” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

JJ took a step forward, eyes widening in shock as he lunged to get closer. “Let her go, Chandler!” His voice cracked with a mixture of rage and fear, but Chandler didn’t release his grip.

“You think I’m going to play fair?” Chandler sneered, his hand moving to his jacket pocket with casual menace. “No. You’re going to give me what I want, or she dies.”

You barely had time to process the words before Chandler’s knife was suddenly there, pressed against your throat. The cold metal against your skin made you freeze, heart hammering in your chest. You could feel the danger now, the raw, visceral threat. Chandler’s voice was a whisper in your ear, almost playful in its cruelty.

“Hand it over, or I’ll carve her up right here.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you could barely breathe. Everything around you seemed to slow down, the tension rising with every passing second. Chandler’s grip on you tightened, the knife at your throat a constant, terrifying reminder of how quickly everything had shifted from a confrontation to something far worse.

“JJ,” you gasped, your voice trembling despite yourself, “don’t... don’t do it. Just—”

JJ’s eyes flicked to yours, the pain and conflict written plainly across his face. He looked as if every muscle in his body was screaming at him to fight, to do anything but give in, but there was no room for error now, not with the knife pressed so dangerously close to your skin. He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths.

“Okay, I’ll give it to you,” JJ finally agreed, his voice barely more than a whisper, each word sounding like it was being dragged from his throat. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out the small, worn bag that held the amulet. He held it up, fingers trembling as he slowly raised it for Chandler to see.

“No, JJ!” you protested, your voice a strangled cry, tears welling in your eyes. The thought of him handing it over to Chandler, of giving in to the man who had already caused so much pain, twisted something deep inside of you. But the sharp edge of the blade pressed harder against your throat, silencing you, forcing you into a terrifying stillness.

Chandler’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with a sinister triumph. “Good choice,” he cooed mockingly, his grip on you tightening as he stretched his other hand out towards JJ. The sight of him, so confident, so sure he had won, made your blood boil despite the fear gripping your heart.

JJ's hand trembled as he extended the bag towards Chandler. His eyes stayed locked on yours, searching your face for any sign of fear or pain. Your breath hitched when Chandler’s cold fingers grazed the bag, snatching it away. He wasted no time, pushing you forward with a force that sent you stumbling straight into JJ’s arms.

You collided into his chest, his embrace closing around you in an instant. His body curled protectively over yours, shielding you from Chandler's reach as he held you close. “It’s okay,” JJ whispered into your ear, his voice ragged with relief. “I’ve got you.” He didn’t even look back at Groff, all his focus on you, as if the danger had passed the moment you were in his grasp.

But behind him, Chandler's expression shifted as he opened the bag and peered inside. The smirk on his face vanished, replaced by a scowl of rage. The amulet wasn’t there. It was nothing but a ruse. He’d been tricked, and it didn’t take him long to realize who had played him.

With a deadly calm, Chandler called out, “JJ.”

The sound of his name, dripping with cold malice, made JJ's spine straighten. He pulled back just enough to look at you, a fleeting moment of confusion in his eyes. Then, he turned around, his gaze narrowing as he faced Chandler.

But it was already too late. In one swift motion, Chandler lunged forward. The blade gleamed in the dim light for a split second before it drove into JJ’s stomach. The impact was sickening, a hollow thud as the knife sank deep.

Your scream tore through the air, raw and filled with terror. JJ’s eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as the pain hit him like a wave. He staggered, his arms instinctively clutching his abdomen as blood started to stain his shirt, dark and spreading fast.

Chandler’s face was a mask of fury, his hand still gripping the hilt of the knife. He twisted it slightly, a cruel sneer curling his lips. “You thought you could fool me?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

JJ’s knees buckled, his body sagging as the strength drained out of him. You lunged forward, catching him before he could collapse completely, your hands desperately pressing over his wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

“JJ, stay with me,” you begged, your voice breaking as you looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. His blue eyes were clouded with pain, but he managed to meet your gaze, a weak, rueful smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought... I thought I could protect you.”

You shook your head, your hands trembling as you held him. “No, no, JJ, don’t say that. You’re going to be okay. We’ll get you help. Just stay with me, please.”

Chandler ran off into the darkness, leaving you holding onto JJ as he slumped against you. Panic surged through your veins, and you looked down at his wound, your hands trembling as you pressed down in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. The warm, sticky blood coated your fingers, and you could feel his pulse weakening beneath your touch.

"This isn’t happening," you whispered frantically, shaking your head in denial. Your wide-open eyes darted around the room, searching for anything you could use to help. "No, no, no," you muttered under your breath, your voice thick with desperation.

You glanced up at JJ’s face, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused, the pain written all over his features. “Stay with me, Jay,” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cradled his head in your hands.

"John B! Pope!" you screamed, your voice raw as it echoed through the old house. The sound reverberated off the walls, mixing with the eerie silence that followed Chandler’s exit. The urgency in your call felt like a knife in your chest, twisting deeper with each passing second.

JJ's voice was barely a whisper, strained and breathless as he looked up at you, his eyes half-lidded but still so intensely blue. “Y/N, I never got to tell you… but I love you.” His words came out fragile, like he was using his last bit of strength just to say them. The raw, unfiltered emotion behind them made your heart lurch in your chest.

Your breath hitched, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking free, streaming down your cheeks in an unrelenting flow. You shook your head vehemently, the desperation clear in your voice as you clutched his face between your trembling hands. “No, JJ, no," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "This isn’t what’s happening. You’re not going to leave me. You can’t—” You could barely get the words out, your chest heaving with sobs.

His gaze softened as he looked at you, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles despite the pain. He reached up weakly, his hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a hushed whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “I just needed you to know.”

You leaned into his touch, your tears wetting his hand as you pressed your forehead against his. “Don’t do this, Jay. Don’t say goodbye. We still have so much to do, so many plans. You promised me we'd get out of this together.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if soaking in your presence, before opening them again, his gaze full of a love and longing that broke your heart into a million pieces. “You’re my everything, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice cracking with the weight of his words. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“You’re going to tell me every day for the rest of our lives,” you insisted, your voice pleading as you squeezed his hand tightly, trying to ground him, to keep him here with you. “You hear me? You’re staying with me. I can’t do this without you, Jay. Please, don’t leave me.”

He gave a small, shaky nod, like he was trying to hold on, but you could see the light starting to fade from his eyes, the pain overtaking him. You felt his grip on your hand slacken slightly, and it sent a jolt of pure terror through you.

“No! No, stay with me, JJ. Please!” you begged, pressing your forehead against his, your sobs turning into broken, gasping cries. You could barely see through your tears, your entire world narrowing down to just the two of you, in this moment, as you clung to him with everything you had.

You shook him frantically, your hands pressing against his chest, trying to force his heart to beat beneath your trembling fingers. It felt like you were grasping at the wind, like the very essence of him was slipping through your hands. The sticky warmth of his blood covered your skin, a horrifyingly vivid reminder that time was running out, slipping away with every breathless second.

“JJ, wake up,” you begged, your voice raw and broken, cracking under the weight of your anguish. It felt like you were underwater, drowning in the reality of what was happening, each sob choked out like it was your last. His face, once so full of life, now looked pale and ghostly, his blue eyes shut as if he was already slipping away to someplace you couldn’t reach.

“You can’t die here. You can’t leave me!” The words tore from your throat in a strangled scream, filled with a desperation that felt like it could rip you apart from the inside. Your hands pumped his chest with a rhythm that faltered, each push driven by a frantic hope, a silent prayer, as if sheer willpower could bring him back. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t stop, wouldn’t let yourself believe that this was the end.

You could feel the life draining out of him, like the color bleeding from a watercolor painting washed away by rain. His skin grew colder beneath your touch, and you leaned over him, pressing your forehead to his, your tears mingling with the blood staining his shirt.

“Please, JJ, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking into a thousand tiny shards, each one sharper than the last. It was a fragile, fractured sound, more a plea to the universe than a call to him. “I need you,” you breathed, pressing your trembling lips to his forehead, the coldness of his skin like ice against your warmth. “I need you to stay, for me.”

The room felt like it was caving in, the air heavy with an unbearable weight. Your hands pressed against his wound, blood seeping through your fingers, warm and sticky, like the life was slipping away from him and into the cracks between your knuckles. The world outside seemed distant, muted, as if it no longer mattered. It was just you and him, suspended in a moment that felt like it was slipping away, stolen by time’s unforgiving hands.

Tears blurred your vision, painting the scene in watercolors of red and black, smearing his face into something unrecognizable. You choked on a sob, the sound raw and ragged, your body trembling with the force of your desperation. “JJ, don’t do this,” you pleaded, your words spilling out in a rush, your voice laced with a pain so deep it felt like it might consume you. “You can’t leave me. Not now. Not like this.”

His chest barely moved, the rise and fall so faint it was almost imperceptible, like the flicker of a candle about to be snuffed out. His eyes fluttered, half-open, clouded with pain, but still searching for you, trying to hold on to whatever sliver of light he could find in your gaze. The silence between you was deafening, filled with everything you wished you had said, every moment you’d taken for granted.

“Please,” you sobbed, your voice cracking, raw and exposed. “I love you. I love you so much, JJ.” Your words were a desperate confession, one you wished you’d said a thousand times before but had only found the courage to say now, when it felt like it was already too late. Your fingers curled into his shirt, clinging to him like he was the only thing anchoring you to this world.

You could feel him slipping away, the light in his eyes dimming like the last rays of a setting sun. His lips parted, a shallow breath escaping, but no words came out. Just a faint, ghostly smile, the kind you’d only ever seen when he was hiding something, some quiet secret he held close to his chest. It was haunting, the way he looked at you, like he was already seeing something beyond this world.

“No,” you whispered fiercely, shaking your head as if you could defy reality itself. “You’re not dying here. Not now. Not like this.” Your hands cupped his face, willing him to stay, to hold on just a little longer. But his eyes slipped shut, the last vestiges of life draining from his features, leaving behind a stillness that was more terrifying than anything you’d ever faced.

Before you could utter another word, the door burst open, and your friends rushed in, their faces twisted into expressions of pure horror. They stopped short, frozen by the scene before them—JJ’s lifeless body cradled in your arms, blood pooling beneath him, and your own face streaked with tears. The room fell into an eerie silence, filled only with the echo of your sobs, the kind that tore from deep within your chest like a howl into the void. It was a silence laced with a devastating realization, a shared understanding that this was Groff's doing—that he had orchestrated this final, cruel act.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look up, couldn’t face the shock and grief in their eyes. Instead, you pressed your forehead against JJ’s, as if in some desperate, final attempt to connect with whatever piece of him might still linger. Your body shook violently, your cries filling the space, haunting and raw. It was the sound of a heart breaking, of a love being ripped away far too soon.

"JJ," you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, a prayer to whatever force could undo this nightmare. You ran your fingers through his hair, your touch gentle, like you were afraid to break whatever fragile illusion still held him close. His skin was already turning cold, the warmth you had known and loved fading away, replaced by a chilling emptiness.

You kissed his cheek, your lips trembling against his skin, tasting the salt of your own tears. The bitter taste of grief washed over you as you whispered, "I love you," words you had said so many times before but had never felt this heavy, this final. The love of your life lay still in your arms, his spirit gone, leaving behind only a hollow shell.

The others stood by helplessly, tears streaming down their own faces as they bore witness to your agony, each of them shattered in their own way. But none of them dared to interrupt. This moment, this unbearable pain, belonged to you. It was a sorrow too deep for words, a loss that hung heavy in the air, sinking into the very bones of the room.

You held onto him tighter, refusing to let go, as if by sheer will alone you could pull him back from the abyss. But deep down, you knew it was too late. JJ was gone, and you were left with the echoes of what could have been, the cruel, jagged edges of a future that would never come to pass.

[http-shield]

Bucky is high-key appalled by the lack of chivalry and politeness exhibited by the men of the twenty first century. Can't fathom that men ignore women on the train or bus who need seats, that doors aren't being opened for women, seats aren't being pulled out, space isn't made for women as they pass packs of men on the sidewalk. There are many things in this new age world that Bucky can't wrap his head around, but the disregard for women is something he'll never understand, so he opens doors for ladies if they are both going in the same building, vacates seats when there is a woman around in need of space. He can't help it, having grown up in a world entirely different to the one he is now. It is second nature and comes as quickly as breathing, but it stuns you a little the first time you get treated like that. You swoon at the fact Bucky holds the door for you, lets you pass before him, makes sure you walk on the safer side of the pavement, holds your hand when you cross the road, makes sure you get the food and drinks first, offers to drive and pay for date nights, the list is endless. Still, for once in your adult dating life, you don't question the sincerity of his words as they are backed up by actions.

"Did something happen to men while I was gone?" Bucky's confused voice floats down the hall of your apartment as he strides in, kicking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the rack by the bathroom door.

"What do you mean?" You look up from your spot on the couch, laptop sitting on your raised legs. "Like, did they go extinct and come back?"

Bucky reaches the living room and shucks off his jacket and gloves to hang over the chair before coming to the couch and plopping beside you. A soft kiss is pressed to your cheek, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles a greeting before settling into the plush sofa.

"I mean, did they lose all manners?" he shakes his head in disbelief, hands splaying out in frustrated emphasis. "Do men not open doors for women? Or move out of the way for them on the side walk?"

You close the laptop and stow it away on the small shelf of the coffee table, no longer focusing on the information packets Tony had sent you early this morning.

"What happened?" You ask, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, enjoying how he melts into your touch.

"I just watched a bucnh'a men in suits practically push a woman out of the way to get through the door." he sighs, clearly exasperated at the lack of respect for other humans. "And then they didn't even hold the door for her! They just let it swing closed. How do they act on dates? I doubt they pay."

You hum, letting his rant continue.

"And I was on the line."

"Online." you correct gently, spiking his hair up with your fingers, the shorter strands finally obeying you.

"I was online," he rectifies. "and I saw this video of a woman talking about a man getting angry that she wasn't gonna go home with him after the first date."

"Please tell me that never happened to you." His attention shifts to you now, genuine distress simmering in his blue eyes, and when you don't answer, he becomes distraught.

"Doll, no," Bucky shakes his head as if you confessed to the murder of his beloved stuffed animal. "Come on, you gotta be joking."

"It was years ago! I was young and stupid and didn't know my worth." You shrug, obviously not as upset as your counterpart. “I've learnt my lesson. I know I am worth at least two dinners now." The joke falls flat as Bucky stares, not amused.

"It's a joke, Buck."

"I know, but I don't like it." He grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child. "Don't like that you were treated like that."

"Well, good thing I've got you now, huh?" you abandon his hair, stroking the back of your fingers over his stubbly cheek.

Bucky pouts. "Still don't like it. You deserved better."

You kiss his cheek, feeling his cheeks round as he smiles. "You're too good to me, Mr. Barnes." another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Even if we did sleep together on the first date."

"Hey! That wasn't the same. We knew each other before that." Bucky protests as you stand from the couch, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner. "At least I paid!"

[henneseyhoe]

Right Where I Want You.

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Rough sex (Nothing too serious, she just chokes him a lil), Dirty talk, DOM!reader, SUB!Terry, Mommy kink (yeah you heard me, we get real nasty over here..), PWP, Short!, Not completely proof read.

SUMMARY: nah. lol

✮✮✮✮

the sound of clapping could be heard from the next room over even with the door closed. They both made no moves to quiet down either, the squeaky springs of the bed only applauded her on her bouncing, giving her the praises she needed for taking a dick this size. The stretch was delicious, the girth making her feel stuffed, and the length reaching places so deep that she could barely sit down all the way.

But how she rode was already enough for Terry, she didn’t have to sit all the way. He was already so gone. The way Terry was moaning her name with curses following, you’d think that was the only english he knew.

Her heels dug into the bed beneath them, the sensation of the soft silks against his bare skin heightening his pleasure. He had begged her just minutes before to use him, fuck him into his own bed and leave him wondering why you hadn’t come along sooner, why he didn’t come find you instead. He didn’t care if it was pathetic, there was some things he could live with happily without embarrassment. There was just something about you that could make a man kneel at your feet, cry, even.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She asks before moaning, her head lulling back for a second as she felt the tip of him brush over exactly where she wanted him the most. Her voice was so tantalizing, laced with a sweetheart tone and dominance as she knew she could take away what he needed the most in this moment; a tight pussy gripping his dick and a nut that would send him to another dimension. She knew damn well he was doing more than enjoying himself.

His abs tightened under his brown skin and he cried out, opting to hold onto the headboard instead of her hips to avoid her stopping like she did last time he touched her without permission.

“Fuck, baby!”

His hips bucked wildly as the sensitivity of him became almost unbearable. He hadn’t even came yet, multiple orgasms purposely ruined being the reason for the constant tightness in his balls and stomach. She, on the other hand, had already came three times. On his fingers, on his face, on that dick. Her cream stuck to his shaft and balls, making wet, sticky sounds every time her fat ass bounced back down on him, making him release another spurt of precum into her walls.

Her cream was still warm, used as lube to help her ride that thick dick efficiently enough to have him seeing stars.

And stars he did indeed see, the glasses perched on his nose providing no help with vision as he clenched his eyes closed.

“You boutta cum for me, baby? You know better to ask mommy first”

She runs her pierced tongue over her lips and begins rubbing her poor little clit with her dominant hand, ignoring the indescribable pain from sensitivity that also somehow brought her pleasure. She used her other hand to slowly wrap itself around Terry’s throat, squeezing slightly to bring him out his euphoric daze.

Once he had opened his eyes, he got to admire her again, eyes flickering from her pretty face to the urging hand between her thighs.

She went even harder on him, staring into his piercing eyes with a clear desire to break him just in case any other bitch thought she could do what she does to him. No one else could have him, a grown man, begging to be fucked, on his knees with his face in her lap.

“You like when I fuck you like this. You like when I use you” She guides him into a nod, a satisfied smile on her face as he agrees.

“Yes- fuck!”

“Mhmm. You love this pussy don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I love this pussy, mommy”

His words sent her into overdrive. That was the first time he had ever compiled and called her the self given pet name. She knew he was right where she wanted him now. There was nothing he wouldn’t say or do for her.

“Cum inside me, baby. Fill mommy up”

✮✮✮✮

💌- ngl this was just sumn sweet for the fuckin kids till december 🥴 did NOT mean for it to be like dis!

[wifes-xxx]

There have been moments, especially when we open our hearts to a husband , where you have felt a distance between you. I know It's as if the door to your heart opens just halfway, holding back parts of you out of fear, caution, or maybe something you now can't quite understand. It struck you deeply like a slap, and you couldn't help but fee this realisation, it sounds like you are being self centred "I can't believe you would be someone so selfish. That you cant give yourself over completely to your relationship. What a dried up and broken woman you have become"

The beauty of exploring love languages and embracing our vulnerabilities lies in their reflection of real-life relationships. These concepts encourage us to examine our own connections, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complexities of love. It's an invitation to reflect on how we communicate affection and how we can better align with our loved ones, paving the way for more fulfilling relationships

Have you noticed sometimes when you do want it from a your guy , it almost feels like you’re invisible to him?

Are you nodding along?

Has this happened to you?

You already know you’re smitten. With your husband, only…you’re not bold and slutty, so you don’t feel comfortable just walking over and dropping to your knees and unzipping his pants and pulling it out, or telling him that you’re horny and need fucking… now!

So what can you do because you know it’s insulting to him for you to be a boring prude?

It’s fairly easy to get attention, but that doesn’t in any way guarantee that he will want to fuck you. Just something to be aware of. Once you have his attention, you’ll want to really notice what his reaction to you is. Does he smile while listening to every word, or is he busier checking his phone than talking to you? The sharper your observation skills, the less time you waste on knowing how to please him.

Grow up…you’re acting like you’re in middle school. You’re not. There are better, high-value ways to get his attention. Be his wife, his woman and his lover. Show him what you have and let him enjoy you.

Never be boring or distant.

Instead make yourself interesting and be interested in him and his desires. Learn what makes him hard.

Think of each moment like the dating game, you may be insecure about flirting or expressing your interest. It will take practice, but you’ve got this! Show some sexual aggression and really let him know what you have in mind. Use your brain. Or play open docile and ditzy. If it makes him hard and your feeling horny and wet, know in your heart its working for you. Remember that.

Be his good girl a figure out what turns him on and makes him hard, and interested. Usually, within a few minutes of conversation and , you can deduce this. Obviously, look for a bulge, but also keep an eye out for signs of breast gaze and lip gazing what part of your body is he focused upon! Display yourself with abandon like the women these men look at on Tumblr. They are interested atvtmhem for a reason. Forgot you self and think about why men masturbate to these kind of women pictures.

Let it change you prudish self.

Keep the conversation going once you have his attention, and make it clear that you’re not just being normal friendly (you’re being flirty friendly!). Use your language in and out of the bedroom to keep him engaged.

“You make me so wet”

“Never Stop”

“That feels amazing”

“Does that feel good?”

“I can feel your dick throbbing”

“I want you here right now”

“I want You so bad”

“I was thinking about you today”

“ oh fuck me, Just Like That”

“You make me want to scream”

“Fill me up”

” I'm curious honey what porn makes you. Hard“

“Fuck me like you mean it”

“Harder”

“I feel tiny in your arms”

“I love you”

“I love your dick”

“I want your cum”

“Kiss Me”

“Make me cum baby”

“Seeing you right after a workout”

“Taste Me”

“Your cock is stretching me out”

“I'm not wearing my panties today“

Feel free to share you favourites with me.

Oh God, this felt amazingly good to write. I am sooo ready for him.

S_XXX