#a man with an addiction is a man with an addiction it really brings awful parts of people but i guess that didn't matter in the context that

[andy-deer]

I want to belive Swanson was hiding the cryopod for Anya,and thats what they was talking about hidding in the cockpit, Swanson was ultimatly a decent man

Swansea is my favorite character!!!! And I always thought they were talking about how Jimmy assaulted her in that scene but it's an interesting take.

I do think Swansea actually wanted to save Daisuke from the start and maybe Anya agreed on it. After all they both were hopeless about their future in a way. Cause we all can agree Daisuke was someone who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, he didn't even have an escape pod... In normal circumstances...

Whatever was on his mind it wasn't for himself that much one can get from just watching his actions and with that final speech.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Oh my gosh! HELLOO!

Anywho~

I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?

Thank you!!

Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—

Alastor- Redemption Path

Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him

Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you

Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible

Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing

“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest

He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around

The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!

“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him

Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo

You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet

Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated

You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it

Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room

You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring

It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…

Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!

“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Tide

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Frankie Morales is capable of almost anything... except not cumming in his jeans when he thinks about you, the pretty clerk at the grocery store he always buys his giant jugs of laundry detergent at. Warnings: Smut thoughts, Frankie's POV and internal monologue, premature ejaculation, so much cum talk, addiction recovery, laundry detergent, this is so ridiculous but I also tried to make it super sweet. Words: 1,200

A/N: I'd probably classify this as a crack fic... but with heart. This is SOOOOO indulgent and ridiculous. I don't know what @luxurychristmaspudding unlocked in me but this is what's released. I know this is my *4th* story in a week, but I couldn't help myself. Also, shout out to the JM Discord and all of the tenants who join in the luxuriousness of this level of depravity.

Masterlist

🚁👖🤍Frankie🤍👖🚁

It keeps happening to Frankie over and over and over again. Recovery has been a challenge, abstaining from all of his previous vices means he’s no longer numbing his mind… and body. 

Nobody should ever cum during a prescription commercial and yet… he does. The swimsuit hugged the woman’s curves a little too close, plus she had the same color hair as you. His mind couldn’t help floating to thinking about you in a swimsuit.

Aye dios mio, get a hold of yourself man.

He’s too embarrassed to bring it up to his doctor. The notion of ever mentioning it to the Delta Force boys terrifies him, although he knows deep down they’d lend a sympathetic ear. They’ve killed, fought wars, and climbed out of the lowest points of their lives together… but the thought of letting his secret out? Awful. He shudders at the thought of telling his fellow Narcotics Anonymous attendees: “Hi, my name is Frankie, I’m an addict and I can’t stop cumming in my pants.”

He tries to think of the worst things, mental images that should scar even the scariest of humans, thoughts about death, rotting produce, weird looking insects, and yet, it still happens.

___

“Hi, how’d you find everything today?”

He blinks towards your tag though he’s already memorized your name, it repeats through his mind whenever he climaxes… he wonders to himself how your sweet voice would sound repeating his name. 

Uh oh, quick, think of a bee sting, everyone’s going to die, burnt pizza. 

He shakes his head, the thoughts of you wrapped around him flying out of his head with each subtle knock. 

“Sir, are you okay?”

Fuuuuuuck, you really had to call me sir, didn’t you?

“Y-yeah, sorry, long day. My name’s Frankie by the way.”

Focus, don’t look at how her hand wraps around the shampoo bottle, soldier. 

“Hi Frankie, nice to finally have a name to the face.”

Of course you say his name in the sweetest way. He presses his fingers into the flesh of his palm as hard as he can withstand, he prays you don’t see the way his nostrils flare.

Be strong.

He’s been captivated ever since he first saw you working in the mom and pop market across the street from his apartment. You’re always friendly and smiling, he swears he feels your eyes on him every time he leaves yet he’s too scared to look back and confirm for himself. He wishes he knew how to small talk and somehow step over the threshold of this case of shyness he has with you. 

Why bother? I’ll just end up disappointing you, never leaving you fulfilled. 

He’s so ashamed. 

“That’s a big bottle of detergent, you must do a lot of laundry. You have kids?” 

“I do… a four year old, but she lives with her mom,” he answers, lifting the giant jug into his cart, his cock twitches when he feels your eyes on his biceps. 

Stay cool, you can do this, you’ve literally overcome worse… and cummed over less.

He wonders if you notice just how much laundry soap he buys… he’s confident that you have no clue you're the only reason why his washing machine is constantly working overtime. 

“Oh, I love that age,” you mindlessly muse scanning a cereal box. “Is she as cute as her dad?”

His spine turns to jelly… he feels the phantom getting closer. 

Trash compactors, mom and dad’s divorce, elephant seals.

“Everyone says she has my eyes.”

“Then she must be,” you wink.

Not a wink, not a wink, not a goddamn wiiiiink. 

He quickly pulls his head down, sticking his card in the chip reader, resisting the urge to think of his now aching cock pushing into you. 

STOP. STOP. STOP THINKING FRANKIE.

Focusing on the pin pad breaks his spiral. Relief spreads through his tense body knowing this run in will be over soon, he can go home in peace, his pants surviving this moment.

Your fingers brush against his hand when you hand him the receipt, his favorite part of buying groceries. He’ll stand in your checkout lane no matter the size of the line for the split second of skin to skin contact. It’s all he can afford to let himself have, any more would surely stain his jeans. 

___

“Hey Frankie!” 

He turns at your voice, his breath hitching when you walk over to him while removing your name tag.

“Want to go next door and grab a drink?”

“I’d love to… but I, uh,” he lifts his hat nervously tussling his hair, “I’m in recovery.” 

“Oh,” your voice and face falter, “I’m sorry, um–”

Don’t let this moment pass, you can do it.

“I know a really good ice cream place, a few blocks down, I can meet you there?” 

Ice cream means licking. Frankie, you're an idiot.

“Oh, um, that sounds amazing but I don’t drive.”

“I can take you… if you’d like.” 

“Yeah?” your smile grows wider. “That sounds amazing.”

“I just need to drop these off, and then I’ll meet you outside in twenty?”

“Awesome!” You squeeze his hand wrapped around the cart handle. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Your touch scorches his skin, he blinks watching your ass sway while walking through the doors to the backroom. 

1-2-3, a gush of hot liquid releases against his jeans, his knuckles turn white as they clutch the cart handle.

Jesus Christ.

Frankie picks up his bags, holding them close to his crotch and leaves the grocery store. He better hurry. Thank god he just bought more detergent. 

___

In hindsight, he’s thankful for his little grocery store indiscretion. He’s carefree and relaxed as he falls even harder for you over chocolate sundaes. You ask for extra rainbow sprinkles and laugh at all of his jokes. 

This must be what it’s like to live normally.

___

“That’s me,” you point to a small bungalow unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ice cream Frankie."

“This was really fun,” he turns towards you, shocked at how close you’re leaning towards him. 

Kiss her. No, wait, don’t kiss her. Yeah, definitely don’t kiss her. 

“It was,” you lick your lips and lean even closer. 

He can smell you now, you smell divine. Like ice cream and floral perfume. 

You place a soft kiss against his lips and pull away.

Frankie’s body tenses, a pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, he spurts against the cotton of his briefs. Doe eyes rounded with embarrassment stare at you.

“Sorry,” whispers out of his downturned lips. 

“Oh,” your face fails at hiding a smile, “Frankie, it’s okay. Really.”

His head knocks against the headrest, face frozen in a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Frankie,” your hand clasps his chin forcing him to look at you. “Honestly, it’s okay. It’s actually… kinda hot.”

Right then and there he knows he’ll never shop at another grocery store again. 

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

[berriwritertingz]

follow me | e. landry

content: filthy smut, oral (fem receiving), kinda obsessive and dark ethan

pairing: ethan landry x afab!reader

summary: after everyone fell asleep, you and ethan ventured off to have your own fun

note: i literally wrote one paragraph of this and then dropped it but my ethan obsession is back after months

it was chad’s idea to have a big sleepover after finals. everyone’s worries and stress draining away with some drinking, music, and movies. the night started out strong with everyone in pajamas playing drinking games and having awful dance battles. but as the third movie dragged on, the talking stopped with the movie plot slowly growing uninteresting. the absence of conversation hinted at the reason, everyone had fell asleep. bodies scattered across the living room with chad's thunderous snores filling it. but as you looked over ethan's eyes met yours, wide awake and fixed upon you.

“i guess we’re the only ones awake” you smiled softly, standing up off the loveseat you two were sharing.

you two weren’t close at all. only speaking to each other when the group hung out and shared glances in shared classes. but you couldn’t lie when you said you had a small crush on ethan. his tall frame towering over you whenever he asked for a favor. soft whiny voice that made your face get warm whenever you heard it. pretty brown eyes that were always focused on yours when you talked. the same ones that were now so innocently trained on you.

“uh…yeah”

he was distracted to say the least. your nipples straining against your white tank top and tiny pink shorts riding up your squishy thighs. you stretched spreading your arms wide causing the shirt to hike up your soft belly. ethan couldn’t help but shift in his seat at the sight, a boner growing in his loose sweatpants. imagining what it was like to bury his head between them. he tried to look away but frankly he didn’t want to. he loved how squishy and smooth your thighs looked in the dim room light.

“do you want to come to my room? i have the new spider-man.” you suggest. hands placed on your hip and thumb pointing to your bedroom in the shared apartment. ethan didn’t hesitate, nodding eagerly and stood up slightly stumbling over the bodies littered around the room, following closely behind you.

-

ethan’s focus was completely on the game eyebrow’s furrowed and tongue slipping out the corner of his mouth. you stared at him in awe practically squealing at how cute he looked. both of you practically cuddling on your bed watching the tv screen as he expertly clicked buttons on the controller. you were sitting on the bed beside him leg perched over his while you watched him play the game. everyone knew you were a touchy person so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to casually have limbs wrapped around your friends. plus even if it was a problem ethan didn’t say anything about it.

“can you help me?” he asked peering over at you, noticing you staring. his cheeks a blaring red.

“yes, of course!” he had a problem with one of the missions not understanding the combos. you placed your hand on top of his showing him exactly what the controls were. ethan couldn’t focus on a word you were saying as your tits were pressed tightly on his arm. his mind wondered to how cushiony and moldable they would be in his hands. imagining leaving pretty marks on them that you would have to cover up.

you smelled a lot like sweet vanilla and it was addicting. he was obsessed. but he didn’t want to seem like a weirdo and sniff you. even though that’s all he wanted to do at this very moment. the boner in his pants grew again even though it never fully went down. but he couldn’t escape this time. as grabbing a pillow or shifting around would bring too much unwanted attention.

“you got it?” you ask softly sending shivers down his spine. he couldn’t do anything but nod as he feared he would unintentionally moan.

his hair tickled your face as he nodded causing you to notice how close you really were. they looked so enticing to touch and before you could think you reached your hand out. but decided against it, not knowing if he’d be comfortable with it or not.

“you can…touch me” he answered eyes still on the tv.

you grinned in excitement as you reached up to touch his hair. once the fluffy locks hit your hand you were in awe. they were soft and surprisingly smelt like strawberries. you reached your hand deeper into his hair massaging his scalp. ethan leaned into your touch groaning softly at the contact.

“mmh does that feel good sweetheart?”

ethan moaned in response pausing and setting down the controller. he loved the feeling of your acrylics running through his hair and scratching his scalp. he always has had a crush on you. he was quite literally obsessed with you. in ways he refused to admit. but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t stolen a few of your panties when you weren’t home. or purposely sat beside you during hangouts so he could learn your password to see private photos.

he relished in the feeling for a moment but he felt as if he was going to burst through his boxers. he turned and peered down at you, doe eyes hooded with lust. you were already looking at him feeling the tension rising. afraid that this could go too far and he wouldn’t feel the same way you did. you pulled your hand back but before you could get too far he swiftly caught it with his. eyes flickering from your rosy lips to your sultry eyes.

“ethan-“

before you could finish he had your lips in a deep kiss throwing the controller to the other side of the bed. his lips were soft and worked eagerly against yours. he then pushed you flush under him quickly moving in between your legs pressing his hard on to your core. wanting the kiss to be deeper you slipped your tongue in his mouth. he didn’t catch on right away but soon his tongue worked skillfully against yours. you whined gently as one of his hands was placed behind your head pulling you closer and the other trailing up your shirt.

your hands moved from around his neck to the hem of his shirt pulling it up eagerly. he obliged tossing it not really caring about where it went. when he looked back down at you he almost groaned at the sight. your lips pouty and swollen from kissing him, nipples now fully hard and on display to him through the thin fabric. legs wrapped across his waist practically rutting against him.

“oh fuck me…” he groaned practically ripping your shirt from your body.

you giggled softly at his eagerness but that was quickly replaced by soft moans as ethan kneaded your breast between his hand. placing small open mouth kisses on your neck sucking and biting the skin. he wanted to leave an obvious mark on you knowing a few classmates had a crush on you. he soon kissed his way down to your soft mounds suckling on your nipples harshly. your hands flew to his hair tugging it causing ethan to shudder under your touch. soft whimpers sending vibrations through your spine.

he stopped for a bit sliding his hand into your shorts. eyes mischievous and lustful with his hair wild from you playing in it.

“can i taste you y/n” you nodded shyly. the brown haired boy causing fires to ignite from the bottom of your stomach and thighs slick with arousal.

“please”

with this ethan pulled your shorts down with ease leaving you completely naked as he still had pants on. his hands roamed across your sides to your thighs dragging them teasingly. it made you feel exposed, your head shifting away from his avoiding eye contact.

“you’re so pretty” he complimented getting situated between your legs. he held you close with his hands on your thighs pulling you eagerly towards his mouth salivating at the site. you shuffled uncomfortably at his staring getting slightly embarrassed. but that washed away as he licked a long stride up your slit. it was unexpected and caused you to let out a loud moan.

you quickly covered your mouth remembering everyone was still only a hallway away. ethan chuckled slightly followed by him attaching himself back to your core. sucking your sensitive bud harshly. whining as your back arched into his mouth.

“ethan i can’t be quiet, we should-“ he cut you off again by kitty licking your core. you bit your lip hard, eyes screwed shut and your hands flew to his hair. his eyes rolled to the back of his hand causing a soft moan to escape from him.

“let them hear you.” he ordered, eyes looking up at you through hooded eyelashes. you sat up a bit meeting his eyes. the way he looked so innocent yet filthy made the fire in your stomach grow.

you tried your best to keep your moans soft but the feeling of his finger entering your heat caused your moans to go up an octave. you unsuccessfully pleading for ethan to slow down his movements on your sensitive bud. but he didn’t, noticing your movements against his tongue. fingers gripping his curls harder than before. he was in love with the way you tasted not wanting to break away. the feeling of inside of you making his head go hazy imagining what it would feel like to be his shaft instead.

you couldn’t hold back anymore. using a pillow to stuff your face in as ethan thrusted into you with an ungodly pace. telling you how good you taste and sound. you whined and whimpered repeatedly as he refused to let you go. tongue working eagerly to make you come.

“e- i’m gonna mmh i can’t”

before you could say anything else your orgasm washed over you. thighs shaking around his head. eyes forced to the back of your head and loud moans muffled by the pillow.

ethan finally slowed down letting you ride your orgasm out on his tongue. he kissed your abused clit gently earning a soft whine from you before connecting his lips to yours. tongue moving inside your mouth so you could taste yourself. you could feel his hard on through his sweatpants as your hands scratched his back.

he began to slide them off but was interrupted by loud knocking on the door.

“can you guys shut up? it’s 3 am!” mindy yelled from behind the door.

pt.2?

[whyse7vn]

CARDBOARD BOX -

[ ot7 x reader ]

BTW ☠️😂

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: thinking about when we all lived together and jimin would make jungkook tap dance for food

jk: good times :D

namjoon: but jungkook cant tap dance?

jimin: exactly

namjoon: so you starved jungkook?

jk: no i tapped??

jin: horribly

jk: :(

tae: i liked it

jk: honestly 🥺?

tae: honestly

jk: :D

hobi: why is joon acting like he wasn’t there to witness it???

namjoon: sorry

i just tend to block out the traumatic memories i have with you guys

which is most of them

jin: jungkook was the one dancing for food not you

namjoon: being a witness to that was traumatic

yoongi: it was funny

jk: thank u

yoongi: no

namjoon: moving on

y/n: remember when jungkook would like disappear for 4 hours everyday and come back to the dorms at like 5 am

hobi: OMG YES

jimin: the era where he hated us 😪

yoongi: bring it back

jk: i didn’t hate you guys ☹️

tae: he was just getting his dick wet don’t worry about it

namjoon: he was barley 16?

tae: pussy slayer since 05 😝

namjoon: 05??

yoongi: he was 7 in 05

jin: victim since 05

jimin: jin was like 27 in 05

jin: ??unprovoked

and not fucking true

jimin: as long as you’re alive i’m provoked

y/n: 27 in 05 is crazy

jimin: i’m saying like 😭

hurry up and die maybe?

hobi: bros 31 ☠️

namjoon: ok stop guys

jin: fucking hate all of you

jk: omg it’s raining outside i’m so sad :((

tae: my fault stepped outside and mother nature just couldn’t contain herself

she freaky like that

hobi: paying for ur assassination

jk: what does that even mean

tae: the sky squirting for me bro

jk: oh

that’s nice didn’t know that was possible !!

can you make her stop tho

tae: tell namjoon to step outside and she’ll stop

namjoon: ???

tae: it will be hot and dry as shit if joon steps out ong

jk: namjoon pls step outside

namjoon: kook you need to stop taking tae’s word for things

jk: what

i take no words

i have my own

namjoon: nvm

y/n: life would be so much fun if one of you was a crack addict

jin: ????

yoongi: freak

hobi: real

jimin: namjoon is right here like….

namjoon: leave me ALONE

jk: i’ll be a crack addict for you

tae: i’ll be a better addict

jk: NO YOU WONT

tae: YES I WILL

y/n: shut up

jk: sorry ☺️💕💖

tae: i could so break jungkook’s legs

jk: ☹️

how will i tap?

hobi: you don’t need to tap anymore kook

ur free from that life

y/n: tap by taeyong

jimin: he may be free from tapping in this life but is the tapping life free from him?

yoongi: what

jimin: mentally jungkook is still my little tapping slut

jk: aw man ://

namjoon: did you need to call him a slut??

can we just be nice

jimin: yes i needed to call him a slut

he’s a slut

tae: he was sixteen tapping for you

ur calling a sixteen year old a slut

guys i think jimin is really weird for that actually

jk: me 2

jimin: so?????

you literally said he was fucking at 16 you indirectly called him a slut too

jk: right !!!!

tae: UMM NO???

i called him a pussy slayer actually

and that could mean anything

jk: like what?

tae: shut up jungkook

jk: ok

i’m sorry

it’s still raining

i’m upset

jin: anyways i think yoongi could be nicer

yoongi: ?????

y/n: yoongi’s great

jin: TO YOU

yoongi is actually really really mean and we need to talk about it

jk: i also think yoongi’s great !!

when i was sad about getting old and sick he told me i probably won’t get cancer and most likely die from getting stabbed at 30 on the 12th of december 3pm

namjoon: oh

y/n: yoongi….

yoongi: no cancer !!

jk: NO CANCER ^0^ !!!!!!

tae: yoongi being cold and mysterious will only get you so far in life

jk: yoongi don’t be cold

🔥🔥🔥

here

y/n: jungkook ur so silly

where are you

i want to bite you

jk: 😳

OMW HOME I PROMISE

WON’T BE LONG I SWEAR

jimin: take me back to the days where you had to buy bitches 46 plots of land and a horse to get pussy

i can’t do this being dumb ass hell shit

hobi: maybe ur just ugly idk??

jimin: ????

yo wtf

hobi????????????

hobi: who said that not me whatttt?

jin: that’s why taemin has jimin blocked

jimin: HE DOES NOT HAVE ME BLOCKED

yoongi: woah ok?

jimin: just saying

anyways

jin: ur ugly 😂

jk: beauty is subjective

yoongi: do you even know what that means?

jk: yes ofc ??

maybe…

no 😔

tae: subjective sex

namjoon: stop

tae: SUBJECT SEX

i class i would love to participate in

y/n: is this you telling us you don’t know how to have sex???

tae: NO

this is me telling you i love sex and partake in it often

hobi: stds

jk: i’m confused

why do you want to take a class on it then ???

y/n: right

you wanting to take a sex class implies you know little on the subject of sex actually

tae: SHUT THE HELL UP

jimin: nothing about my beauty is subjective btw

it’s fact

jin: that ur ugly

yoongi: lol

jimin: namjoon tell them i’m not ugly

namjoon: guys he’s not ugly

jin: he’s really ugly

y/n: namjoon tell tae to stop shouting

namjoon: taehyung stop shouting

tae: NO

NAMJOON TELL KOOK AND Y/N I KNOW HOW TO FUCK

namjoon: kook y/n taehyung knows how to fuck

hobi: namjoon i wont lie to you but u lowkey a bitch

jin: right

namjoon: thank you for that hobi and jin i also love you very much

jk: ohmygod joon loosing his mind again

that is NOT what they said

joon come back to us

fight this namjoon fight it

hobi: fighting by bss

yoongi: who fighting?

jimin: joon and his crippling coke addiction

coke winning

namjoon: can we not

tae: i’ll laugh when you overdose

y/n: exo core

namjoon: i just helped you what is ur issue??

jin: do you notice how yoongi appeared again when the word fighting was said????

we NEED to have this man locked up i’m telling you

yoongi: i’ll have you sectioned

jin: WHAT THE FUCK?????

NAMJOON TELL HIM TO TAKE THAT BACK

namjoon: yoongi take that back

please

yoongi: i take it back

jin: good

yoongi: not

jk: yikes jin he got you

yoongi ur really cool

yoongi: shut up

jk: sorry 😆

y/n: stop being mean

yoongi: cant help it :3

tae: who wants to see me split a watermelon with one hand

jk: ME ME

OHMYGOD ME I DO I DO

I WANT TO SEE

PLEASE SHOW ME PLEASE BEOFRE I PASSED OUT PLEASE

PICK ME TAE I WANT TO SEE ME MEMEMEMEMEMEMMEMEME

hobi: tae how is ur financial situation these days

tae: kill yourself

hobi: ok wtf???

i was just asking

tae: jungkook im sorry but no broken watermelon today blame hoseok

jk: hobi what the hell man i was really looking forward to the broken watermelon

y/n: i heard tae filed for bankruptcy

tae: NOT TRUE

jimin: i heard he lives in a cardboard box

tae: SHUT UP I DONT

jk: tae omg……… 😧

is this true

tae: NO OBVIOUSLY NOT

YOU WERE AT MY HOUSE YESTERDAY

AND I ORDERED US FOOD

jk: pls dont shout at me

i’m trying to remember if your house was a cardboard box or not

jimin: (it was)

tae: NAMJOON

namjoon: guys

jimin: ur no fun

y/n: sorry 😔

tae: yeah

you guys better be sorry

stupid idiots

jimin: shut up broke boy

namjoon: jimin please

jimin: whatEVER

tae: namjoon i don’t say this a lot because normally it wouldn’t be true but man i love you

guys i think me and namjoon were married in our past lives

cuz like were so in tune with each other

like he just gets me

i get him

i believe in every life we find each other

like we get married in every single life except this one

namjoon: no offence but in every life i would find you and divorce you if that were true

tae: oh

y/n: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yoongi: lol

jimin: no i see it the crack addict and the broke bitch love story

tae: at least someone gets it

nvm

should of read the whole message first

u guys are just closed minded

im telling you me an namjoon are like super alike someone thought i was him yesterday and he was so real and right for that

jk: i thought you said that guy that called you rm in the park yesterday was a racist not real or right

tae: jungkook

jk: yeah ^0^

tae: stop talking rn

jk: okay😵

hobi: cocaine is like really expensive how would tae and joon work out

tae wont be able to help feed into joons addiction

y/n: why do you know that cocaine is expensive

hobi: i know a lot of things that just happenes to be one of them

jimin: if you think about it when have you ever seen a crackhead be like nah im not gonna have crack today

they make that shit happen no matter what

and i think thats what attracts tae and joon together

like joon will do anything and everything to get his fix and tae would do anything and everything to have a place to sleep so their hardworking nature is what leads them to love

yeah

jin: ok !!!!!!

jimin i think you need a hobby or something

that was…. a lot

yoongi: shut up

jin: WHAT DID I DO???? AM I WRONG OR DID YOU ACTUALLY ENJOY JIMINS MINI FANFIC LIKE?????????

yoongi: i’ll punch you

jin: and i believe that!

shutting up #now

hobi: i wish i was mark lee rn

he probably doing something really canadian as we speak

jk: like what?

hobi: idk being nice

jimin: you called me ugly five minutes ago

you could never be mark lee

hobi: that literally wasn’t me i have no idea what ur talking about sorry i’m actually mark lee rn so i fr don’t know what ur talking about dude sorry dude i have to go on stage and dance with nct 127 now and then i have vocal practice with nct dream right after so i’m sorry dude i like have zero idea what ur talking about like actually like a sticker 2 baddies beatbox

me as mark lee and scene

jk: 10/10 really believable idk mark lee but i really though you were him for a second

y/n: great performance thought mark was here fr almost kissed you passionately on the mouth

yoongi: what

hobi: thank u thank u

you can still kiss me tho haha lol as mark or not idm

y/n: ok omg come here!!!

hobi: FR?????

y/n: no !!!!!!

but i did imagine us kissing like last week for like five seconds

hobi: yesssss 🙌 😝

a win is a win

yoongi: its not a win

she threw up at the thought

y/n: no i didn’t

yoongi: yes you did

you told me

y/n: i DID’NT

stop trying to gaslight me

it wont work

tae: have you imagined me naked

jimin: liked it better when you weren’t talking

tae: i liked it when YOU weren’t talking

jimin: shut the fuck up

jin: how about you both shut the fuck up

jimin: now why are YOU talking again

yoongi beat the shit out of him

yoongi: nah dont want to

the thought of his face isn’t pissing me off anymore

jin: thank you <3

yoongi: i could punch hoseok tho

hobi: no thank you ???

y/n: yoongi has a framed picture of all of us on his bedside table that he hides whenever you all come over in case you find it

he also has each one of our debut photocards in a small little binder in his studio in a little safe

yoongi: not true bye

yoongi left “BTW☠️😂”

y/n added yoongi to “BTW☠️😂”

y/n: very true very real seen them with my very two eyes

yoongi: you wear glasses

that you don’t actually wear

so who knows what u be seeing

that is NOT true

y/n: i wear glasses to READ and you know that

so shut up

guys yoongi would punch none of you because he loves you very much ok? 😍💖💯

tae: yoongi do you kiss our picture goodnight be honest

yoongi: fuck off actually

namjoon: thats very sweet yoongi

we love you too

jin: i DON’T

i fear my life when i’m around yoongi picture by his bed or not

i’m shaking in my boots i’m scared

yoongi: pussy

jin: i’m telling you ever since he broke that poor woozi guys nose i have not looked at him the same

y/n: ok but that was a mistake right yoongi

yoongi: ?

y/n: it was

and besides has yoongi broken your nose?

jin: no but it’s coming

i know it

yoongi: true

jk: i feel safe around yoongi

yoongi: you shouldn’t

jk: because he hasn’t broken my nose

but jimin did punch me once

jimin: dont bring up my past

hobi: if we think about it jimin should be locked up

jungkook you can press charges you know?

jimin: CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT ME AND WHAT I’VE DONE

like we were talking about how yoongi actually love us

lets get back to that

yoongi: jimin should be put behind bars

jimin: yoongi loves us

yoongi: jimin is a bully

jimin: YOONGI LOVES US

tae: i love you back yoongi

yoongi: kill yourself

jimin is a literal bully like actually

jimin: and ur a fake one cuz u love us

jk: jimin you are bully

yoongi: ur right jungkook

you are so right

jimin: jungkook yoongi loves you

that’s why he’s agreeing with you

jk: i love you too yoongi ^0^

yoongi: jungkook jimin is bullying you

has been since you were 16

jk: ohmygod……..

jimin: jungkook yoongi has a photocard of you that he’s probably decorated and everything just cuz he cares so deeply about you

jk: he does????????

namjoon: ok both of you stop

jimin you ARE a bully

and yoongi its ok that you actually like us you should stop pretending you don’t

jimin: I AM NO BULLY

yoongi: i like not one of u 😒

namjoon: yeah ok

jk: GUYS OHMUGOD

tae DOES LIVE IN A CARDBOARD BOX I REMEMBER NOW ���🤯😨

tae left “BTW☠️😂”

—

think of this as a flash back/ forward idk of the good happy times ok? ok thank u >_<

sorry for the shit ending i just really like the first part and wanted to post

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 3/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 1,484 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 (in replies because tags aren't working in the post for some reason)

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

I just want y’all to know that this chapter was written for you—I prefer the story ending at Chapter 2 😉

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog ❤️

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You catch the door before it clicks shut. You don’t want to leave him like this. You can’t leave him like this, so you inhale a deep breath and creep back inside, steeling yourself for rejection or another hateful outburst.

His weeping tapers off into sniffles and the occasional cough. You can feel his eyes following you as you pad over to his couch and grab the neatly folded throw blanket, casting a furtive glance towards his gun, which is still lying undisturbed where you left it, before returning to him. His eyes have fallen away from you—his head sagging between his slumped shoulders, chin touching his chest—and you hope he hasn’t gone away again to that terrible place in his mind. When you drape the blanket around his shoulders he flinches but gives no other protest, even pulling it more tightly around himself. He doesn’t order you to leave—doesn’t even acknowledge you’re there—so you kneel down in front of him, careful not to crowd him. He looks so defeated, so beaten down by the world; an abused child wrapped up in his security blanket for comfort after another unfair punishment. Your heart can’t help but break for him.  

You sit for a moment, listening to his soft sniffles and harsh breathing until you find the right words to say. Then you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to the floor again, his tearful eyes hidden behind a curtain of sweat-damp black hair.

For what? Passing out? Getting strangled? Knocking me to the floor then screaming at me? But you keep those questions to yourself, asking him instead: “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”

He slowly shakes his bowed head, as if it’s filled with lead, as if those awful memories of his are weighing it down.

“Then why don’t you lie down? Maybe get some rest?” you suggest. “I can bring you some Ambien…”

Your voice trails off because he shoots you a wary look. But then his face softens and he nods before muttering, “No drugs.”

“No drugs,” you echo softly, your brain jumping to conclusions again about this brooding man of few words. Perhaps he’s a recovering addict or something. You push yourself to your feet then reach out a hand to help him up. He stares at it then his eyes fall away again. He’s really not a fan of eye contact.

“I don’t even know your name,” he says.

“It’s Y/N,” you offer eagerly. “What about you?”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you, but then he answers, “Jason,” in a barely audible voice, as if he’s ashamed to utter the word aloud.

Heavy silence swells around you and you’re acutely aware of your outstretched arm hanging awkwardly in the air. He wipes his bleeding cheek against his shoulder, smearing more blood onto his hoodie. You pull back your proffered hand and use it to push a lock of hair behind your ear as you fumble for something to say to fill the uncomfortable silence that stretches on. And suddenly you're back at dinner with John Preston Anderson III trying to make conversation while he scrolls on his phone, pretending you don’t exist. You have to swallow down a bubble of anger that threatens to erupt.

“I’m… sorry for whatever happened to you, Jason. I… can stay with you, if you want.” Suddenly your face is afire and you’re mortified that you just invited yourself to sleep over at his place only seconds after learning his name. “On your couch, I mean,” you clarify, blushing furiously, but his eyes never leave the floor. Thankfully.

He coughs then shakes his head again. “I already ruined your night.”

A bitter laugh bursts out of you at that without your permission, and his head jerks up, startled, bloodshot eyes snapping to yours. You clap both hands over your mouth as if you can shove the rude sound back inside you. Guilt grips your heart as you see the pained expression on his pale face. It’s not anger or hurt or annoyance, but rather that same look of fear that you witnessed earlier when he was cowering in the corner, as if your laughter frightened him. 

You rush to explain, to put him at ease. “I’m sorry, it’s just that… if you only knew the night I’ve had. Anyway, I’m glad we finally got to meet. It’s nice to put a name to the-the face.” You stutter that last part, realizing after the fact that it’s probably not very nice to bring up his unmistakably-scarred face like that, or complain about your night to the guy who got strangled, so you blurt out before your mind can catch up with your mouth: “It isn’t every night that I get to help a handsome stranger in distress.”

Your face somehow turns an even darker shade of crimson. How many times can you put your foot in your mouth in one conversation? But to your surprise and relief you’re rewarded with a little laugh from Jason, a sound that seems awkward and unnatural, as if he doesn’t get to laugh very often. Some of the color returns to his cheeks as he blushes the prettiest shade of pink. When the corners of his mouth quirk up into a timid smile you realize that he has absolutely gorgeous lips, despite the swelling. Full and soft, finely laced with small silvery scars—little arrows pointing to where they need to be kissed. Jesus Christ. Again, you literally just learned the guy’s name and now you want to kiss him. No, that’s a lie. You’ve wanted to kiss him since his rude ass scowled at you the first time. What is it with you and Ted Bundy types?

“I’ll have to pass out more often,” he says shyly, fingers plucking at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His blue-green eyes find the floor again, as if his script is written there. “Turns out it’s a great way to meet beautiful women.”

Beautiful… beautiful… The word echoes in your mind like a heartbeat. No one has ever called you beautiful. Your chest comes alive with sudden warmth as butterflies take flight. You want to stay there with him for the rest of the night. To kiss him on his busted lips. To wrap him up in your arms. To protect him from whatever hurt him. Instead, you grab one of the discarded ice packs and hand it to him, heart still fluttering wildly in your chest. “Google says you should get some ice on that. Your throat, I mean.” Goddamnit. He just said you’re beautiful, and you reply by handing him an ice pack. How the hell are you so bad at flirting?

“Who am I to question Dr. Google?” he replies sarcastically with a smug little smirk on those beautiful lips, but still does as he’s told, accepting the ice pack then holding it against his red-ringed throat.

You gaze down at him as you grope for the perfect words to say that will turn this scene into one worthy of a romcom. You consider inviting him back to your place to share that bottle of merlot you’ve been dreaming about all night. But then remind yourself that the poor guy is traumatized, definitely in no shape for a romantic nightcap. You can’t help but find yourself wishing, as if you can will it into existence, that he’ll look up at you, that your eyes will meet, sparks will fly, and he’ll flirt with you again. Maybe even invite you to stay the night with him. But his eyes remain glued to the floor, and your heart drops in disappointment as your ridiculous delusions are dashed by his silence.

“I should… probably go, for real this time. It’s late.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you before I go?” you ask, coming back down to earth from the high of his compliment and seeing him again as the guy who’d gotten cut and strangled then passed out cold on his floor rather than an object of your lust.

He shakes his head, then he glances up at you, those stunning blue-green eyes of his finally finding yours, sending a fresh flutter to your chest. “You’ve done more than enough. It was… really nice having someone to talk to. To… distract me from… other things.”

His kind words give you a boost of confidence. “Well If you ever want to talk again, you know where I live. Or if you need a babysitter.”

You smile at the puzzled look that crosses his face and nod towards his houseplant.

He laughs that adorable little laugh again. “I may take you up on that offer sometime. Goodnight Y/N. And… thanks again. For everything.”

“Take care of yourself, Jason.”

[norman-fucking-reedus]

So it’s international women’s day and I was talking to one of my mutuals abt how Daryl would like worship you 🎀

I noticed that as the show went on Daryl’s respect and appreciation for women seemed to grow. I also feel like his mother could’ve been a victim of abuse, and so when he yells at any woman he starts thinking of his dad

I just think Daryl having his own person to unconditionally love and cherish would re-wire his brain in the best way possible

Idk what happened but I do not have a foot kink guys like feet actually scare me when I write I just make it all up as I go

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Daryl has never considered himself a religious man, but oh for you, he’d make a whole new religion.

Growing up Daryl was never allowed to have much of his own stuff, whatever little he did have he held onto and cherished with all his damaged heart. He loved these things dearly, and would fight like hell to get them back, but he’s never down right worshipped something, nor someone.

His parents claimed to be christians, yet they just made themselves look like hypocrites as they preached sins from the bible that they commit every hour of the day. Daryl believed that if there really was a God, he wouldn’t toss kids to people who didn’t deserve to have them, let alone help the people that needed help, like when his mom was burning to death in the house.

He didn’t believe in a God, no, not until he got to taste you for the first time.

You, Daryl loved you. From the tips of your very toes up to your hair, there wasn’t a single inch of your body that Dixon didn’t appreciate.

He takes his sweet, sweet time undressing you, carefully peeling your shirt off and running his blistering hands across the smooth skin of your stomach. Daryl dips his head down to kiss you, slow with lots of tongue.

Daryl’s hands move down your sides, hooking onto the waistband of your pants and pulling them down. He stared at you in muted awe as you stepped out them and stood in just your bra and panties, twirling hair around your finger.

You watched as he lowered himself down, not just onto his knees but down to the floor, his lips brushing over the skin of your feet. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight of Daryl bowing before you, peppering kisses along the skin of your ankles while slowly climbing his way up the skin of your calf, relishing in the ticklish sensation of your leg hair.

You were pure, sheer natural beauty, Daryl dared to say that Aphrodite herself could not compare.

He traced every scar with his lips, and touched every birthmark with the tip of his tongue, his hands stroking the skin of your legs as he worked his way up past your knee, to your thigh, squeezing and sucking on the plumpness. His fingers trailed over the bump dips of your stretch marks, traveling across your hips and stopping mere inches from your stomach.

Daryl knew that you were a little insecure about the markings, however, he had a deep admiration for the discolored lines etched into your skin, dragging his lips across them and feeling them underneath.

He made it his life goal to make you feel like the most gorgeous woman in the world because in his eyes you were the only woman in the world.

Daryl placed eager kisses over your clothed hip bones, running his tongue over your V-line before burying his nose in the growing wet spot of your panties, inhaling the addictive smell of your cunt. He stared at you with a needy, half-lidded gaze, licking his lips as you fisted the hair behind his ear, teasing the hem of your panties right in front of him.

His eyes never left your movements for a second as you slowly slid the thin fabric down, Daryl watching the way they slipped down your thighs and pooled down around your feet, eyes flickering back up to your pretty pussy. He watched as you spread your lips with your fingers, running your fingers down your folds and bringing your glistening digits to Daryl's lips, so casually offering him a slice of heaven.

You felt Daryl's groan vibrate through your fingers as he quickly wrapped his lips around them, swirling his tongue and sucking your slick. His cock pulsated in his pants, arousal burning hot in his belly as he taste you, wanting to taste you directly from the source.

As you pulled your soaked fingers from his lips, coating them in his own spit as you did, you adjusted your stance to stand with your legs further apart, lifting your leg slightly to step on Daryl's cock, a guttural moan coming from him as he thanked the stars above him for whatever he did in order to belong to you.

When you tugged Daryl's head forward by his hair, dragging your messy cunt across his chin and over his tongue, he jerked his hips up and down right whimpered when he ground into the pad of your foot. Every light sound he made, he made right into your slick folds, desperately lapping up your juices on his tongue. One hand held onto your thigh, and the other stayed wrapped around your ankle.

Daryl ran his tongue from your tight entrance, up to your sensitive clit, rubbing it with a few hard licks before darting back down your slit, this time slipping the wet muscle inside your soft walls. You moaned at the sudden intrusion, applying more pressure with your foot that had the man seeing stars underneath you. Daryl held your foot down, curling his tongue as he thrusted it in and out.

You had a tight grip on Daryl’s hair, tugging at his brown locks as he worked you open, pushing your closer and closer to the edge. He was such a monster when it came down to his mouth, knowing exactly just how and where he needed to use it.

He dragged his tongue back over to your clit, making quick work of filling you with his fingers. You groaned at the feeling of his thick digits, scissoring and stretching you further open. He stimulated a sensitive nerve near you clit as his fingers curled in your sweet spot, a high gasp coming from you as your hands tightened in Daryl’s hair.

You pulled his head back, clenching around his fingers when the cool air hit your puffy clit. Daryl panted softly underneath you, staring up at you witth hearts in his eyes as his swollen, red bottom lip got caught between his teeth. His hips rolled up into your foot, whimpering quietly.

“I love you” He choked out, hand gripping your thigh as the other continued to curl his fingers.

You brushed his cheek again, staring down with a pleased looked and smile. “I love you too, Dixon. Now come up here and stuff me”

Daryl grunted, sliding his fingers out of you and immediately bringing them up to his mouth, sucking you clean off.

He rose to his feet, wiping his fingers dry before circling around your back to unclasp your bra, throwing himself into one of your deep kisses as the garment fell down your arms to join your discarded underwear on the floor. Daryl ran his hands over the soft and squishy skin of your tits, groping them under calloused palms.

You directed him to walk backwards, taking careful steps towards the bed as his lips refused to leave yours, the lingering taste of yourself in his mouth as you explored it with your tongue.

Daryl’s knees hit the mattress and he sat down, leaning back a little to give you more space as you straddled him in all your nude glory. Your dripping cunt pressed against his bulge, and he could feel your warmth wetness behind the fabric. The groan that escaped his lips was quickly captured in another one of your dangerous kisses, Daryl’s head already starting to become full of haze.

“Your body belongs to me, right?” You slid a hand between the two of you, fingers dancing over his jeans as they unbuttoned them.

Daryl hummed, eyes fixated on you as you freed his cock. “Yes ma’am”

You smiled softly, dropping down for yet another mind fogging kiss, lining Daryl’s tip up with your entrance and sliding down slowly. He groaned into your mouth and the sensation of being wrapped up in your tight heat, cock twitching were it rested snuggly inside you.

When you started to bounce your hips, milking the length of his cock with each wet slide of your cunt around him. He wanted to snap his hips into you, fuck you hard and make you feel so, so good. But instead, he stayed right was he was, eyes rapidly flickering from watching where he was slipping in and out of you, to your pleasured face, lip caught between your teeth as your gaze met Daryl’s.

“I love you” He said once again, whispering it into the steamy space between the two of you. You curled your fingers into his scalp, tugging the brown hair as you locked onto his lips for another one of those fucking kisses. “I love you too”

And oh, how that’s all he ever needs to hear.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Daryl not being able to process the fact that someone as breathtaking as you would want to date someone like him and he’s just so sickeningly in love that obviously his only option is to just straight worship the ground you walks on, like you’re a blessing sent directly from heaven itself and Daryl Dixon will be damned to let something as enchanting as you go to waste

He is stone cold LOVER BOY 😾

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[oonajaeadira]

Okay, who wants to hear about today's moment of magic?

Long story under the cut.

So the SO and I are getting married next month. It's really not a big deal, we're literally going down to the courthouse with @feathersandfoxtails and another bestie on the anniversary of our first date, signing the papers and doing an at-the-counter ceremony. We've been together for 14 years and own a house and a dog together. When it comes to loving and pledging our lives to each other, it's something we've grown into and we choose each other every day. Our families know we're good for life, so there's really no reason to spend a bunch of money on a ceremony. We've got everything we need, we go on "honeymoons" all the time, and we're both theater people, so it's just another event to plan and stage manage and produce and honestly, we'd both just rather put on another show with that cash than have our moms get nuts about invite lists and catering choices.

ANYWAY. With 2025 looming and all the uncertainty it's bringing, I just want it to be official in the eyes of the state so that's never a question. This dude goes up to the cabinland by himself and builds cabins 7 feet off the ground and runs chainsaws and such. If he ends up in the hospital, I don't want to be turned away from holding his hand through an amputation, you know? He's the most honest, trustworthy, good-hearted man I've ever met (if not sometimes frustratingly stubborn about being right all the damn time), and we share the same taste in just about everything. He's an inch shorter than Pedro with shoulders just as broad and eyes just as brown and a good mix of Frankie and Pero and Din and he puts up with my weirdness and I'm not letting him go.

So at one point he asks me if I'd like a ring. And I said no, mostly because I have a million rings and I like to switch them out and I'm not going to be taking up a good finger with one ring forever. My ladybits may be monogamous, but I'm not forcing that on any of my fingers. (That came out wrong. Oh well.) Besides, he's in carpentry. He doesn't like jewelry, much less wear it.

"I would for you," he said.

Cue melting.

But. Also. Another unnecessary expense. (Also, in true mischief fashion, I want to keep the marriage a secret just to see the looks on people's faces when someone like my nosy aunt's like "when you getting married?" and I can say, "oh, we are. Anyway. Pass that turkey...")

And that was that. Until I saw the script they walk you through at the courthouse.

At first glance, it's pretty short, literally an exchange of "do you?/ I dos" and exchange of rings and signing of the certificate by all the parties. No changes allowed, no vows, no "you may kiss," just cut and dry, like 2 minutes tops.

*record scratch* Exchange of rings. No changes. Aw hell.

Cue my online auction addiction. Did I mention that I have an online auction addiction? Surprise! There's a lot of lakeside property in Minnesota and rich folks come and go, passing on or downsizing or whatnot, and there's always fun estate sales going on, which is where I get a lot of my instruments and fun witchy supplies.

Literally the day I read that marriage script and was wondering if I could just fish out some rings from my jewelry box to suffice, this auction came up:

What you are looking at are two antiquities, Viking-era brass rings circa 850 - 1050 CE, the gold plating is pitted and old, but they've been restored and preservation-sealed. I did a lot of research on them and the company that they came from (as well as digging up info on antiquities/museum relations and dealers that may come in handy for a Thief fic at one point), and they're the real deal.

The sizes weren't listed (they were packaged in conservation envelopes, the box is mine) and so I lowballed a bid and was surprised that nobody outbid me. That never happens.

I told the SO that I'd won them and he's like, cool, how do you know they'll fit? I said I didn't. They're not meant to be worn. We use them for the ceremony and then shadowbox and display them nicely. If they don't really fit properly, that's okay, they're only there to fulfill the script. I'm not really getting a fancy dress or anything like that, so we might as well have one little piece of magic on the day. I just thought ancient Viking rings would be cool because he loves history and I've got me some Scandinavian blood and Viking thighs.

But y'all. The magic continues. Because I picked them up today...

And they fit us. Exactly. I'm kinda freaking out about it.

Even my atheist SO looked at me and said, "Hot damn. It's like it's meant to be."

Damn straight, boyfriend. Damn straight.

[fangirl-writes]

Exes and Ohs

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader; Ex-Rafe Cameron x Reader; John B. x Sister!Reader

Warnings(s): female reader, swearing, violence, implied physical abuse (JJ’s dad), harassment

Request: Hiii<3 can I request a fanfic about yn being john bs sister dating jj and having rafe as her ex???ok so i was thinking maybe at a party rafe could be flirting with yn (because he’s obsessed with her ) and jj notices and they fight but it ends with rafe telling jj to keep you safe. Thanks<3

Notes: I put this taking place during the Midsummer’s episode of season 1. I don’t think this is exactly what you were looking for but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Your brother had roped you into a lot of stupid things in your lifetime, but this was starting to feel like the stupidest.

“John B, what the fuck are we doing?” You asked as he and JJ pulled the HMS Pogue onto shore.

“I told you, Y/N, I’ve got a plan,” he replied.

“Care to share with the class what it is?”

“You just gotta trust me on this,”

“The last time I trusted you, I ended up on the receiving end of a gun,” You said.

If he heard you, he gave you no indication, just marched through the grass with you and JJ in tow, bags slung over both their shoulders.

“I need you to get this to Sarah,” John B. said, passing JJ a note.

“Ooh, can I read it?”

“No, you can’t read it.”

“Who’s Vlad?”

“God, do you ever listen?”

“Hold up, are you macking Sarah Cameron?” JJ asked.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, leaning over JJ’s shoulder to read the note.

“Would you shut up?” John B. replied, blushing in the darkness.

“You’re making Sarah Cameron!” JJ exclaimed, incredulous.

“All right, man. Look, I’m doing it for everybody, all right?”

“You’re macking Sarah Cameron for everybody?” You said.

“No that’s not what I- look, it’s just...it’s like a business transaction, okay?”

“Classy,” you said and then silence, the judgement thick in the air.

“What?” John B. asked.

“Nothing,” JJ replied first, stopping and dropping his bag on the sand. “Thanks for being a team player, bro.”

“JJ-”

“Hey, I didn’t say I wanted to mack Sarah Cameron, that’s all him,” he replied to you, throwing his white button up over his shoulders.

The conversation trickled out as John B. swung the tie around JJ’s neck and did it for him.

You made a mental note to bring this up with your brother again later and pulled off your tank top. You were wearing your swimsuit beneath it and tossed a (f/c) sundress over the top of it, discarding your shorts after it settled.

“So, I just give this to Sarah?” JJ asked, clarifying.

“Yes, just give it to Sarah,” John B. confirmed.

“Vlad? Really?” JJ mused, adjusting the bowtie.

“Shut up. Y/N, I’m gonna need you to distract Rafe.”

“Woah, what? Hold up. No,” JJ protested, frowning deeply.  “No way I’m letting Rafe anywhere near her.”

You rolled your eyes. Rafe was your ex-boyfriend who’d been less than a stellar partner while you were going out. He was obsessive, cruel, and manipulative. Not to mention a classist and a drug addict. 

It was only after you broke up with him that you realized how awful he’d been treating you.

Pro-tip: when your close friends and family tell you how shitty your boyfriend is, chances are pretty good that they’re right.

You stuffed your clothes in JJ’s bag.

He, of course, was your knight-in-shining armor. JJ was your shoulder to cry on and you were his. You two haven’t been dating long, but it feels a hundred percent better than any of the time you were with Rafe.

JJ treats you like a person. Rafe treated you like a trophy.

“Look, JJ, it’s just until you can get the note to Sarah and get out then Y/N can walk away.”

“You really think he’s just gonna let her walk away? Fat chance.”

“JJ, really?” You said, pulling the gun out of his bag.

“Yes, really,” JJ replied. “Especially now.”

“If you get caught with that thing in a pinch you’re going to jail,” John B. said, snatching the pistol out of your hands.

“Fine,” JJ said, pulling off his cap and tossing it to you. “But if Rafe gets handsy I’m coming back for it.”

“You won’t have to worry about that if you just give the note to Sarah and do nothing else to draw attention to yourself,” you said, shoving JJ’s hat into his bag and standing up.

“Ah, come on Y/N, you know me,” he said. “Completely inconspicuous.”

“Not exactly the word I would use,” You replied, about to take his hand.

But John B. caught your arm first. “Hey, I know this is going to suck for you, but this is for us...for dad.”

Your face was stoic and you didn’t meet his eyes. The gold was the thing your father had been searching for before he disappeared, the thing he thought he’d found. If there was even the slightest chance you two could get it...

“I’ll be fine,” you replied, making eye contact with him and smiling. “I can handle him.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” your brother replied, letting go of your arm.

You turned to JJ who smiled and held out his arm, “My lady.”

You smiled again, real this time, and took his arm. You could always rely on JJ to make you feel better.

“Hey,” John B. said, causing the two of you to look back at him. “No funny business in there all right? I expect you in and out. Got it?”

“Don’t worry I won’t bang your sister in a kook bathroom or anything.”

“JJ!”

“Even though that’s a bucket list item for me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as JJ tugged you forward, quickening his pace before John B. could either tackle him or throw something.

Up ahead, the midsummers party was in full swing. It was twilight, the outer banks cloaked in a hazy blue, and the building glowed with yellow light that sparkled against the kooks’ fancy jewelry.

Both Pope and Kiara were in there somewhere, no doubt hating their lives and if nothing else, you thought, at least this would probably get them out of it.

“Ready?” JJ asked you as you approached the building.

“As I’ll ever be.” You replied, breaking off from him.

“Hey,” JJ stopped you before you could go. “Seriously, if Rafe tries anything I’ll be right there, okay?”

You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss before saying, “I’ve got this. Rafe’s not stupid enough to try anything here.”

JJ didn’t look convinced but let you go anyway.

You disappeared around another side of the building, just close enough to hear JJ before he entered the party.

“I keep finding glasses halfway down the beach. Do me a favor, try to keep ‘em corralled, will ya? I thought you were security.”

You bit back a laugh and snuck through a side door, headed for a bathroom to touch up your hair and hopefully find some perfume to cover up the smell of marsh.

You slid into the bathroom, which was probably the nicest one you’d ever been in. It had vanity lights over each sink, a lounge area with full length mirrors, and soap that smelled like roses.

You dropped your clutch on the counter, pulling out your travel brush and raking it through your hair. You did your best impression of a kook’s basic makeup routine with some added glitter and called it a day, only having so much time.

You slid everything half-hazardly back into your bag and headed for the door only to be knocked in the face with it.

“Oh my god I’m so sorr- Y/N?”

“Kie!” You said, sighing with relief. “Have you got any perfume with you?”

“What? Why? What’re you doing here?”

“John B.’s got a plan. We’re back in the gold game.”

Kiara looked like you’d just told her pigs were flying. “You’re as crazy as John B. I’m not dealing with this right now-”

“Kie, wait, wait, wait!” You pleaded, moving in front of her before she could escape. “I don’t know what the plan is, but I have faith in John B. He has to do this...we have to do this. For our dad.”

Kiara looked like she was about to tell you off, but instead she sighed. “Fine. What do you need to do?”

“Well, JJ’s delivering a note to Sarah so I’m supposed to distract Rafe while he does so. Which, knowing JJ, he’s probably already in position so I need to get out there.”

“Wait, you’re distracting Rafe?” 

“Hopefully not for long, if everything goes right.” You replied, trying to leave again.

“Wait, here,” she pulled out a little vial of perfume and spritzed it on you. "You did kind of smell like marsh water.”

“Thanks. How do I look?”

“Like a kook,” Kiara confirmed. “Let’s hit it.”

JJ spotted you and Kie as you approached the crowd. He motioned with his head and you followed it to where Rafe was standing with Kelce and some other kook guys.

You nodded back at him.

He gave you one last worried look before turning his back and heading towards Sarah.

“Wish me luck,” you said to Kiara before heading that direction.

“Rafe!” You said, sweetly, causing the boys to turn.

Rafe was like a deer in headlights, mouth dropping open at the sight of you. “Y/N? What’re you doing here?”

You chuckled. “Kiara invited me as her plus one. I wanted to see some of my old kook friends again.”

“Did you now?” Rafe replied, falling back into his asshole role as he stuck one hand in his suit pocket and gestured with the other. “Cause I’m pretty sure the last time we spoke you told me you never wanted to see me or any of my upper class bitches again.”

You clenched your jaw under your smile. “I was in a bad mood. Usually happens when you catch your boyfriend snorting coke through wads of cash. Got any of the white stuff in your system tonight?”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

“Good. Your dad would probably castrate you, not that there’s much to take.”

Rafe’s smirk dropped momentarily as a chorus of ‘ooh’s went around the group of boys.

“Funny. I don’t remember you complaining when I took your virginity.”

You blushed. More oohs.

“Funny. I don’t remember it at all.”

“Oh, yeah? How about I remind you?”

You pulled a face, façade dropping. “Fuck you, Cameron.”

“Well, if you insist,” he replied, taking a step forward and a flash of fear jolted through you before-

“Oh! Sorry about that guys.”

You let out a breath of relief as JJ stepped between you, effectively dumping a cocktail down the front of Rafe’s suit.

“I was just trying to deliver that mai tai you ordered. But, really, I’d say this is an improvement. I mean the wetness really shows off that nonexistent dick you’ve got.”

“Nice of you to join us, JJ,” Rafe said, recovering and grabbing him by the shirt. 

“Well, no time to talk now, I’m on the clock,” JJ said, always a better liar than you. “Maybe we can catch up later, huh? Until then, how about you guys help yourself to some hors d’oeuvres?”

“Funny, you’d show up right now. Just when your girlfriend was about to dump your ass and get back together with me.”

“Was she now?” JJ asked, looking at you.

You grimaced and shook your head.

“Ah, well, the lady refutes your story. Always believe the victim.”

“Victim? Oh no, she’s anything but that. She came waltzing over here in that little dress ready to stir up trouble,” Rafe said. “She wanted to cheat on you, pogue. What’ve you got to offer?”

"Well, you know that’s the funny thing-”

BAM. JJ’s fist connected with Rafe’s nose and he broke free of the hold, grabbing your hand and racing through the crowd of kooks.

“Thank god for you, JJ Maybank,” you said.

“Never should’ve let you near those dicks anyway. Should’ve just taken my chances on my own. I could take them.”

“Well, you might get your chance because they’re following us.”

“Fucking swell.”

You and JJ zipped through the lobby, stirring all of the fancy kooks to stand and watch the commotion. 

“Sorry! Sorry! Lovely dress!” You shouted as you passed people.

“Hey, JJ, come on!” Rafe yelled from behind you. “We just wanna talk, alright?”

JJ ducked into the nearest bathroom, taking you along with him.

“JJ, I can’t be in here!” You protested as he drug you through the men’s restroom. 

Where there were men.

“Ah, excuse me, guys,” JJ said, rattling the door handles on the stalls.

Shit, it probably did look like JJ was trying to bang you in a kook bathroom.

“Just really gotta go,” he said, cursing to himself when they were all occupied.

He squeezed your hand and tried to duck through the locker room, only to be cut off by Rafe. 

“Hey, man, what’re you doing in the locker room, huh?”

He immediately turned around and tried to head the way he came, but you were surrounded.

“JJ!” You shouted as a kook knocked him backwards, his hand slipping from yours as you stumbled into two boys behind you.

“Wow, that’s a cute outfit,” JJ said, stumbling into Rafe.

“Shut up,” Rafe replied.

The two kooks gripped your arms, causing you to cry out.

“Hey!” JJ said, trying to come to your aid, only to be grabbed and put into a headlock by Kelce.

“I know your not classy, JJ, but trying to fuck your girlfriend in a men’s bathroom?” Rafe clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just uncivilized. Y/N should be treated better.”

He caressed your cheek with one hand and touched parts you couldn’t defend with the other. You tried to bite him. “Fuck you!”

“God, you hear this guys? She really wants to get in my pants. Just obsessed with me,” Rafe adjusted his jacket and smirked as he turned back to JJ, who was still struggling against Kelce and fuming. “Now, as for you.”

JJ flailed and fought, but Kelce was stronger.

“Hold him still. What do you think? A four iron, right?” Rafe said, adjusting his hands like he was holding a golf club. “Keep his head still, I’m gonna line this up.”

“Very Rafe of you, Rafe,” JJ spat, struggling to breath. “Five on one?”

“JJ, stop talking,” you pleaded.

“Listen to the lady, JJ,” Rafe replied, smirking. “It’s very disrespectful when I’m trying to hit a ball. Learn your etiquette my friend.”

You struggled against the kook boys, but you were terrified. This was your worst nightmare, being helpless like this. And if they somehow hurt JJ and got you by yourself...

“Rafe, please, leave him alone!” You begged.

“Oh, the time for pleading is over, sweetheart,” He replied, not even looking at you. “You made your choice.

Fuck. John B. was going to get an earful from you for this. All because he had a hard on for Sarah Cameron. 

Rafe leaned down to get a better look at JJ. “And what a choice it was. Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”

JJ spit in his face.

Rafe laughed, wiping it away with ease, looking almost impressed. “Oh, shit! You see how dirty this pogue, is, Y/N?”

The lights started flickering and you let out a sigh of relief as security entered the room.

“Gentlemen,” he said.

Kelce dropped JJ and pushed him away. You ran to him immediately, checking him over, but he assured you he was fine and focused on the security guard.

“Is there a problem here, guys?”

“Oh! Pardon me, officer. No there’s not an issue, I just-” JJ said before starting over. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue.”

JJ Maybank. Always quick on his feet.

“Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right? Blatant disrespect for private property,” JJ said.

The kooks looked like they wanted to react, but they wouldn’t so they wouldn’t get in trouble with their daddies.

“And! And I tried to screw this fine young lady-” JJ grabbed your arms gently, pulling you forward. You smiled awkwardly. “In this here bathroom. As you can see, I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir. But these young gentleman...”

JJ straightened Kelce’s collar, who immediately pushed him off.

“...uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do, escort me outta here. All right.”

The officer, not caring enough to refute JJ’s bullshit (but brilliant) of a story, did as requested and led JJ out of the room. You quickly followed.

“Fix that tie, son,” JJ said, one last quip. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun.”

“Better keep that girl of yours safe, JJ,” Rafe yelled back. “Or I’ll remind her how a real man feels.”

“JJ, don’t!” You said but he’d already ripped himself away and went back to fight.

Thankfully, the security guard was there to separate them all again.

JJ was spiraling, fast. You could see it in the way he stumbled as the security guy led him back outside. He was practically slurring as he assured the guard he could walk on his own.

“Let me just walk out by myself. Oh, Mr. Dunleavy, I see that you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually gonna down that,”

He did as he said he would and downed the drink (whiskey, presumably).

“Y/N, you want one? Here’s Mrs. Dunleavy’s. Little wine for you,” he handed you the glass and, desperately needing a drink, you swallowed it as fast as you could.

“Sorry, sir,” the guard said, ushering JJ away. 

“I really appreciate the discretion, Daryl,” JJ said. “It’s okay everybody! Do not panic!”

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched JJ (in his own way) ruin the party.

“Leave it to the men and women in uniform. Let’s hear it for them!” He started clapping and you started laughing. “Rose! You look like Lady Liberty. It’s good to see you again.”

“Let go of him.” Kiara demanded.

You cringed. Damn it. Kiara’s scene would be much more righteous and way less funny.

“You can’t just boot him! I invited him,” Kiara said. “I’m a member of this club.”

“And what about her?” Daryl (the security) asked.

“Oh, she can plus one with me, if she’s good,” Rafe said, smiling wickedly.

You wanted to vomit.

JJ, having enough, shoved Daryl back into a table.

“Sorry about that! And Y/N,” He said before dipping you into a kiss, which you happily returned.

When he put you back upright you were a little dazed and surprised by the action, but not upset.

Rafe looked upset.

That made you smile.

“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie,” JJ said. “Pope, you as well, all right?”

“Rixon’s cove. Let’s roll,” You said, sliding your hand into JJ’s.

You and JJ were high on trauma. And you didn’t give a fuck. 

You backed out of there like you owned the place.

John B., who had somehow slipped in unnoticed here at the end, greeted the two of you with a celebratory whoo-hoo.

“Colonel,” JJ said, saluting.

“Captain,” John B. replied. “M’lady.”

You mock curtsied.

“Mission accomplished, sir,” JJ said.

“Good, let’s get the hell out of here,” John B. replied.

You jumped on JJ’s back as Pope and Kiara joined you, all of your spirits rising as you disappeared into the darkness of OBX. 

“Later losers!”

And that was that.

You went to Rixon’s Cove, John B. finally spilled the beans about the gold and Sarah Cameron (well, not all the beans with that one, you were sure of that).

Now you were waiting in the van with Kie, Pope, and JJ while your brother hiked up to the Kildare Hawk’s Nest to get a map from Sarah. Which was even stupider than the plan beforehand.

Mostly because Kie was pissed, JJ was smoking weed to cope, Pope was stressed about getting caught, and it was about to start thunderstorming any second.

“Kiara, holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and thinking Sarah will die,” Pope said.

“Exactly.” JJ agreed. “Unless its Rafe Cameron who threatened to rape your girlfriend. Then the grudge is justified.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Kiara said, momentarily forgetting about John B. and Sarah to be concerned about you.

You shrugged. “It’s not that big of deal. He’s an asshole. And he didn’t explicitly mention rape-”

“I can’t believe John B. made you face him yourself,” she said, a look of disgust crossing her face.

Ope, she’s circling back.

“I said I would, okay?”

“That doesn’t excuse it, it was his idea-”

“Kie, can we not right now, okay? You’re just pissed at him anyway,” you said.

She frowned but dropped it.

You laid your head on your boyfriend’s shoudler. “JJ saved me, as usual.”

“Ah, it was nothing, just a little alcohol to break up the party,” JJ replied.

“Wait, what exactly happened?” Pope asked.

“Well,” JJ said, ready to spin into a story of the night’s events. “Good ol’ Rafe was going to make a move on Y/N, but luckily I was right there to swoop in with a glass of...what was it a mai tai? I don’t know, but I dumped it all down the front of Rafe’s suit and started apologizing and shit, you know the good lies. Then he said some more shit about Y/N so I popped him in the nose - pop - and took Y/N’s hand and ran off. Rafe and Kelce followed us-”

“Wait, do you guys hear that?” Kie interrupted, sitting up and looking out into the darkness.

Thunder crashing was all you heard before-

“Please, somebody help!”

“Oh, wait no, I hear that,” JJ said.

“Shit.”

The four of you bailed out of the van immediately and started heading toward the voice.

When you got to the hawk’s nest, John B. was on the ground and Sarah was crouched over him.

“Oh my god!” You cried out, running over there with the others in tow.

“Sarah, what happened?” Pope asked.

You slid on your knees next to your brother.

“I don’t know what to do. He needs help, Topper shoved him,” she said.

A fire ignited in JJ. “Where the hell is he?”

You leaned down and put your ear to his chest, his heart beat and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Someone call somebody!” You shouted, looking at your three friends. “911 or something, go!”

Pope took off first and JJ knelt next to you. “He’s gonna be okay, okay?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Come on, John B. You’re all I’ve got left. I can’t lose my brother to.”

“Pope come on!” 

JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you cried. Not him. Not John B. Not after everything.

“JJ,” you whispered later when John B. was in a hospital bed with a concussion and broken wrist. “Don’t leave me...”

“Never,” He whispered back. “I’ll never leave you.”

This was up there for probably the worst night of your life. Maybe worse than the night your dad disappeared and Rafe was snorting coke on a coffee table while you were crying your eyes out.

But JJ was here now, just like he was then. Holding you like his life depended on it.

And Pope and Kiara were there, too, for a while, until Ward Cameron made the adult decision to call their parents.

He didn’t have JJ’s dad’s number, not that he’d have answered if he did. 

So JJ stayed with you all night.

He was there when Sheriff Peterkin made you tell her the truth. The whole truth.

And you did.

Well, most of the truth.

The gold was still your little secret.

“I’d like to offer you something, Y/N,” Ward said that morning. “I’ll tell your brother, too, when he wakes up.”

You eyed the man warily and exchanged a look with JJ, who squeezed your hand.

“Okay...”

“I’d like to be your legal guardian, if you’ll have me.”

Your eyes widened slightly.

“I heard what you told the sheriff, and Sarah filled me in a bit, but I know how hard you kids have had it. I’d like to give you a roof over your head and meals on the table,” He continued. “And this way, you and John B. wouldn’t have to be seperated.”

The tears were starting to come back to your eyes. “I-I don’t know what John B.’ll say, but if he’s in, I’m in.”

Ward smiled. “Sounds good, kid. We’ll let you know when he’s awake.”

He stood up and went to go talk to the doctors about something or other (probably the bill you couldn’t afford without him) and you sat a little stunned.

“Your gonna go live with the Camerons?” JJ asked, quietly.

“Yeah, I...I guess I am.”

JJ squeezed your hand again. “But what about Rafe?”

You felt like a bucket of water had been dumped over you. Fuck. Rafe.

“He...he won’t be dumb enough to try anything while John B.’s there. And- And his dad is the one taking us in. He worships his dad...we’ll be fine.”

JJ’s jaw tightened and he kissed your temple. “Sneak me in your window?”

You nodded. “Every night. And you can bang me in a kook bathroom now.”

He laughed quietly, but you felt his chest rumble. It made you smile.

JJ would keep you safe. He promises it with every touch.

[peaches-creek]

Jason was looking for something. Not just someone, Homer, author of The Odyssey. He had been on a mythology kick, and wanted to read something more sophisticated. For a 9 year old this kid knows how to read, it was the only thing he could do during the day, waiting for nighttime to act up. So he taught himself to read at a very young age, and kept at it. He’s at a high school reading level. He would immediately come to the library after school, and would stay until closing hour. He had seen a reference somewhere that said, “Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earths, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.”

His thought’s were then interrupted.

“Excuse me, I just have to get something by your feet really quick.” It’s a girl, about his age, one who doesn’t wait for his answer, just crouches by his feet and rips out a book. Not just any book, Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology.

That has him in awe, what kid his age knows how to read anything like that?

“Hey, you know how to read that?” He asks. You scoff at the implication.

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t have grabbed it, now would I?” You sarcastically reply.

That was the start of a very important relationship to Jason. Every day after school you would meet there, and argue about various topics, whichever ones interested you for the week. You guys would stay til close, and he would walk you home. You became important to him very quickly, he liked your gentle hands and kind way about yourself. When talking about characters you would always stick up for the underdog, just like in real life.

He remembers walking home with you one day, through the park when you both stumble upon a scene. Three boys a few years older, and a younger boy. He saw you stop, tears filling your eyes. He turned, about to say something.

“You know he’s a person? What makes you do something like that?” She yelled, crying at the same time.

“Why the fuck are you crying?” One of the boys sneers. Jason’s fist clenches, wanting to bruise this fucking kid’s liver, but decides against it, he is terribly outnumbered.

You say nothing, but walk up to the boy and grab his hand, walking away with him. You hear protests and sneers behind you. You bring him to the swings, asking him where his parents are. He points to two people arguing in the distance. You and Jason say nothing. He looks at you, the tears have stopped but the sniffles haven’t.

“Well then, let’s just play until they are done talking.” You say.

The three of you did exactly that.

You had taught Jason something about humanity that day. He knew he loved you in that moment. For someone so little to know exactly how to show someone else that they are loved.

The walk home had felt bittersweet that day.

“Can you hold my hand?” You say suddenly.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because I’m sad, and I want to hold someone’s hand.” He always forgets that you are a year younger than him, you don’t act it.

“Okay.’ He says, grabbing your hand.

“Why did you do that today?” He asks you.

He didn’t understand kindness like that, no one had shown him kindness before you, but he didn’t understand how you did it so effortlessly. When he first met you, he thought you were acting, lying to him about who you were. But then he realized that you’re just a girl, a girl who loves people.

“Why did I do what?”

“You know.”

“Oh, well, he didn’t deserve that, I don’t have to know him to know that he didn’t deserve that.”

“I see.” Is all he says.

“Kinda like you,” you start, “I don’t know how your life is hard, or why, but you don’t deserve it. I know that.”

“My life isn’t hard.” Is his answer

“Alright, sorry.” You apologize.

“Don’t apologize.”

He didn’t like to think about his life. Drug addict mom, alcoholic father, bills not being payed, going to bed hungry. You were the one good thing to him. Always offering him your spare mittens, sharing your snacks, helping him with his math homework. He didn’t like his life, but he liked you, that was enough.

“Y’know tomorrow is a half day, my mom said she would give me some money to get sandwiches on the way to the library. Which shop should we go to?” You ask.

“Daveny’s, they give you a pickle with your sandwich.”

“I hate pickles, so you can have mine, deal?” You say.

“I’ll share my chips if we have enough to get them.”

“We will, I saved the five dollars my Papa gave me last week.”

“Gotta love him.”

You continue on your way home, only stopping when you reach your steps.

“See you tomorrow Jay.”

“Since when did you call me that?”

“Since now, I think I have earned nickname basis.”

“Sure,” He smiles, “see you tomorrow, don’t forget the five dollars.”

“I wont, I wont.”

You walk up your stairs and into your house. He waits until he sees the lights go on in your room, and begins his trek to go and mess something up, maybe steal some hubcaps.

[kurtmustdie]

okay heres the fucking thing about this script controversy that some people don't seem to get.

just gonna say it blatently:

strap in babes this is gonna be a long one!

The way Miguel O'Hara is written in the leaked transcripts is blatantly racist, here's why from a Latino himself!

all wrapped up in a sweet little bow for everyone who doesn't know how to comprehend what they're reading, cheers!

er. i mean.

¡Salud!

Miguel fans are not mad that they depicted him in a bad light and that they made it clear that he is in the wrong

WE FUCKING KNOW. WE'RE NOT STUPID.

Miguel has been depicted as a morally grey asshole since the early 1990s, which is when Spider-Man 2099 was initially debuted. And while yes, the movies are.... inaccurate, to say the least, it still stands.

The issue here is how he is depicted. They directly call Miguel O'Hara, a Latino man, an ANIMAL (he is directly called an animal TWICE. FUCKING TWICE.)

[1st image id: Miguel leaps onto Vulture, Clawing his way in past the renaissance armor. he is an ANIMAL. (keep in mind ANIMAL is literally in all caps.) /end id]

[2nd image id: Miguel SLASHES at the walls of light that surround Miles. Clawing the energy field apart, an animal in the throes of bloodlust -- /end id]

I need you to really soak in the fact that he is called "AN ANIMAL" twice. I'm awful at alts and ids but I feel I must so you can read it in plain text. sorry if they suck.

Our issue is not that the writers seem to have a bias against the character. a lot of writers write characters they dont particularly like and in turn tend to write them from a foggy lense of their own perception. An example would be Kate Cary and how she didn't like Crowfeather, a character she had to write about. I'm sure some of her bias seeped through. but this is different.

writing a Latino man as a bloodthirsty animal, implied to be called a predator because they call one of the people he fights (im not sure if its miles or the vulture, im leaning towards believing the former.) his "prey", THOSE ARE ALL RACIAL STEREOTYPES. ALL OF THEM.

[3rd image id: But Miguel can only see his prey: /end id]

There is no context to be needed here, the context is that this is miguel we're talking about and that they call him an animal. it does not matter if he is a villain or not (which he isnt, factually he fucking isnt im tired of having this conversation, fuck you). it matters that he's depicted in a racially insensitive way.

and this person brought this up pretty well actually, I didn't even think of it:

[4th image id: Tumblr user @/404-505 saying:

i want to be so mean to them

they couldn't write miguel crossing the border and stealing a job so they wrote him crossing into another universe and stealing his own identity

they couldnt write miguel as a drug addict so they gave him spider steroids instead /end id.]

They bring up a really good point about these clear stereotypes being seemingly. . . disguised behind points that are narratively relevant? This could literally just be pure coincidence, but noting how the writers wrote him before... it isn't looking too good for them. Sorry. Not sorry.

It is clear that there is some kind of bias against miguel that led to really disgusting, racist retoric. Whether or not it was intentional or if it was a first draft or whatever, the writers, which may i remind you were white, still wrote this at some point.

it makes me question whether or not they hated him because of his "bullshit utopia", their words not mine, or because of their own racial biases.

We cannot know because miguel is the only mexican character on the cast. I know Miles is Puerto Rican, but there are differences between how they were portrayed. also Puerto Ricans and Mexicans come from competely different cultural backgrounds that share simularities but are still different dont even try i will destroy you.

Using another users words again, but:

[5th image id: Tumblr user @/transmiguelohara says:

Don't talk to me about the Miguel parts in the script. I'm so disappointed in how the writers view him.

The difference between the way Miguel is written (antagonist, not the villain) vs Spot (the villain, whats to kill Miles' dad and everyone he knows) is soooo.....I don't know man it just screams racism in sorry. Describing Miguel as a bloodthirsty animal? Repeatedly? Treating him like he's mindless and has no motivation beyond having a hair trigger temper? It sucks man. /end id]

It also strikes me that now that we finally have a brown-skinned miguel, they write him like, well. this.

I don't really know if this is petty or not, but I want to wrap this back to the way the fandom also sees Movie Miguel.

Because TRUST ME it is not good either.

Miguel O'Hara Vs. FANDOM: Spoilers, it's been troubling since the beginning.

From the beginning (and by beginning in this case I mean since he was announced to be a character in this movie) Miguel has been continuously sexualized, beyond belief. He is repeatedly called "papi cholo" which NEED I REMIND YOU "Cholo" is a derogatory term used to call someone, usually a mexican person, a criminal or a delinquent.

FUCK YOU if you are not Latino OR hispanic and use this to describe people. from the bottom of my heart.

I'm pretty sure the majority of the people who called/ still currently call him "papi cholo" are mixing it up with "papi chulo" (white people moment.) which means something completely different but is still troubling as hell.

"papi chulo", which is slightly different in the way, just directly translates to "big daddy". Which again, Latino men being overly sexual "Latin Lovers" is ALSO A RACIAL STEREOTYPE. also its just blatant fetishization. Point blank fucking period.

Not only that but I notice a lot of art and fanfiction depicts him doing a lot of violence, or being very overbearing and demeaning, or in short terms.

a lot of people write him as physically and sexually aggressive.

fuck do you mean he growls during sex i can and will send you to space with no return.

which

for the millionth time

racial stereotype

halleluiah or however you spell it.

Having him say random spanish phrases you don't know the meaning or connotations of in your fanfiction is icing on the cake at this point.

fucking end me.

it isn't even only sexual depictions, since he's been shown in the movie, a lot of people seem to just see him as this guy who goes off and tries to kill children at a hairs trigger. which uh. fun fact no he fucking doesnt.

you clearly didn't watch the movie as well as you thought you did. hes just sarcastic and generally pretty level headed through the majority of his runtime, whether its implied by how characters around him act, or its just what we see on screen.

He doesn't necessarily have anger issues, the moment we see at the climax of the film is quite literally a mental break. he is not acting in a way that he usually would because he was cracking under the stress of holding the multiverse together with some scotch tape and orange glitter glue.

Also side tangent but he also has a mental break in the comics that's a little more... droopy and sad as compared to the movie, but it still happens. he has shitty mental health is what im saying. he only really lashes out angrily when hes at his wits end because that's how he grew up. he was taught to suppress his feelings and seem smaller when he was upset.

he is the result of abuse and neglect. of course he wouldn't be amazing at emotional regulation.

Which before anyone says it no, this is not an excuse for his actions. just an explaination that isn't "hes an angry animal that has it out for miles UwU" that everyone seems to have in their brain. I'm tired of you all. truly.

the sentiment that hes agressive and angry and his only emotion is anger and upsetness unless he's horny which is when he experiences all these emotions tenfold is. racist. idk how clear i have to be for people to get it through their damn skulls that the way the fandom depicts him is harmful. do i need to slap you in the face with a fish until you understand. do i need to burn your fanfiction. will you get it now that a 15 year old latino boy has to scream it in your face.

and dont even get me STARED on how inaccurately he is written

this is a more light hearted section because idk. feels like i should have it because this part is just comical, pun intended. How can you fuck up this hard guys.

I was gonna give them the benefit of the doubt because "Miguel has fresh trauma!" "He only shows up for like 10 minutes!" "insert 3rd reason!" for his drastic change in demeanor and personality, which, without context, are valid reasons for him to be a little different. trauma fucks you up man. we only see 10 minutes of him. but at this point im chalking it up to complete incompetence

it doesnt take that long to read a comic book guys. you could have done a little research, I know you can do it.

first off:

[6th image id: Miguel's SPIDER-SENSE goes off! He races to the edge if the building and peers into an empty alley -- /end id]

LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN "SPIDER-SENSE"

Unless you didn't get the total of TWO jokes that they made in ONE scene (the vulture fight scene), Miguel doesn't have a spider sense. at all. He has elevated senses, but he doesnt have a spider sense.

guys

guys.

you made TWO jokes IN A ROW about it. YOU WHACKED HIM IN THE HEAD TWICE WITH IT. HOW DID YOU FORGET

I cant help but laugh! this is a rookie mistake! these are seasoned writers! They could have done at least a little research, or at least remembered that he doesnt have one, no? is it that hard? or does his lack of a spider sense only matter when you're making fun of your least favorite character? thats what I thought.

this one is less funny. not to sound like a stereotypical comic nerd but this infuriated me a little bit I'm not gonna lie.

[8th image id: tumblr user @/darksidecorner reblogged tumblr user @/spiderxpawz with:

They definitely didn't

a screenshot of the script reads:

AN INDUSTRIAL TANGLE OF HUGE PISTONS -- the literal DARK UNDERBELLY that undergrids Miguel's bullshit Utopia.

Miles doesn't know where to go... but he doesn't need to: SOMEONE YANKS him up into the safety of an alcove.

the user then continues:

This in particular made me PISSED because they quietly canonized that Miguel is CEO of Alchemax while conveniently ignoring that he did everything in his fucking power to BETTER Neuva York. Downtown wasn't built by him. It was built by people WAY before him.

I can excuse and defend some comic deviation, but THIS? Holy FUCK /end id]

I honestly cant tell if I find this part funny or pathetic because seriously. he did not do this. why are you blaming him for something he had nothing to do with. i dont think he decided "hey i should build a city for rich people over poor people because reasons" when he was like... not even alive. Alchemax did this before he was even sentient. it had always been this way since he was born. he also actively hated this decision. because he actively hates alchemax.

but right MIGUELS bullshit Utopia yeah HE did this that EVIL LITTLE BABY i cant believe him

kill me.

In conclusion:

I. . . Don't really know, to be honest. I'm still processing all this. I am genuinely disappointed and upset because this isn't okay. It never will be, and if it takes yet another blunt essay with absolutely no filter for people to understand it then so be it. I don't care if this comes off as mean. This is something I feel qualified to talk about and I will express my disappointment and anger if I want to.

All of the posts I reference I have reblogged within the last 24 hours of making this post, they shouldn't be that hard to find, but if you want the links to them here they are:

https://www.tumblr.com/spiderxpawz/735344322114977792/live-mexican-reaction?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/404-505/735289664739606528/they-couldnt-write-miguel-as-a-drug-addict-so?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/transmiguelohara/735289238625648640/cant-believe-the-writers-have-the-same-reading?source=share

if you want your image to be removed or for your link to be removed just ask and I'll do it. but currently im kinda bummed out and tired.

goodbye.

[sonsofslytherin]

LEAD GUITAR

Theodore Nott

Stage Presence:

Theodore Nott is laid back and quiet, much like the bassist.

Well they both have the rep of the quietest members, Theo's calm is more in the sense that he's not trying to draw attention to himself.

He's the one that had been the most reluctant to start the band

Fans joke that no one hates this band more than Theodore Nott

In the end he agreed to make his boys happy and because he truly loves the music

Now I'm a firm believer that they all have some form of anxiety with their own unique triggers. But Theo is the most anxious and he definitely also weathers that shit silently

He distracts himself as much as possible, which is one of the reasons he learned guitar

But he also has a MAJOR oral fixation. Which is where everyone gets the cigarette addiction comes from.

He truly tries to stop though, so for the most part he doesn't smoke at the shows unless he's feeling really anxious

If he doesn't smoke bros chewing gum or is biting down on a pic he almost died because he almost swallowed it

If he doesn't have anything (rare) he is doing the tongue in the corner of the mouth thing

Or absolutely destroying his lips/cheek bro is devouring himself for real

He for sure side eyes the crowd the whole time like he scared too

The most he'll do on stage is vibing in his own circle. If he's really vibing with the song he'll go to jam with the other guys.

Mattheo and Enzo bring out the most energy in him

Draco and Blaise vibe with him in a more lowkey way

He helps write most of the songs

He writes all of the guitar parts too

He is basically a God on guitar, bros fingers are flying and he does it all with a straight face

I'm also convinced he's a freak and is definitely left-handed and he totally has a left-handed guitar

Mattheo basically had a stroke when he tried to use the guitar

When he solos it's either absolute chaos in the crowd is just losing their shit over his talent or it's just pure silence because they're in awe of him

When he does sing people wonder why he isn't vocals, but then he finishes and takes one look at the crowd and then high tails it back to his side of the stage

The band are basically his biggest fans too like they lose it like they're groupies Enzo is not allowed to kiss him anymore

Music is extremely fulfilling for him now and he's learning to be proud of himself :')

Wardrobe:

Theo is really casual in the way he plays and in the way he dresses

He's still casual but just looks a little more put together compared to Matt

Standing next to the whole band he looks slightly out of place, he definitely looks like he's in an indie band

He doesn't really lean into the Rockstar aesthetic

True to his Italian Roots (I will fight) he'll wear like a linen button up and some jeans or any button up really

Or like a long sleeve or a cute sweater and these will usually be loose fitting

He's a pretty lanky guy

I don't stand by throwing muscles and muscles on him, his body is fine the way it is and he happens to be a very lean guy that doesn't mean he's not strong

He'll throw the occasional Blazer or jacket on but that's as crazy as it gets

Same as Mattheo he's wearing some basic sneakers like vans or Converse

I can't see him having any piercings

Fans have speculated for YEARS on whether or not this man has tats

(He does but just a few sentimental ones but no one has ever really seen anything)

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS | BILLY LOOMIS X READER 𖤐₊˚.

summary: you know he’s in a relationship. you know that this is wrong. but somehow, you just can’t seem to stay away from billy loomis.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, cheating, billy isn’t a great guy lol, reader is insecure, suggestive content, swearing, fem!reader

a/n: yes this is (admittedly a little loosely) based off of the taylor song… I never claimed I was 100% original!! idk what this is tbh but I haven’t posted in a while so <3

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

He’s barely opened the door before his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the rain and into his warm embrace. He doesn’t even complain about your sodden state, lips crashing into yours as he clumsily backs you against the wall.

“I’m glad you made it, baby.” Billy murmurs in between kisses, voice low with lust. “Fuck, I couldn’t wait any longer. See what you do to me?”

God, it makes it so much easier when he talks to you like that. When he talks like he breathes just for you, like you’d hung the stars and moon. It’s easier to pretend that way. 

It doesn’t take long. One moment, your legs are wrapped around Billy’s strong frame and the next, you’re laying beneath him on his bed, sighing as he works on your neck. The marks he leaves are purposeful, and they’ll no doubt be a pain to cover up tomorrow. You tell Billy exactly that, making sure to inject just the right amount of that teasing tone you know drives him crazy into your voice. 

“Good,” he says lowly, “Lets people know you’re spoken for. Can’t have anyone touching what’s mine.” He grinds down as if to emphasise his point, hips meeting yours in a way that sends a jolt of electric thrill through your bones. 

At least, you think that’s what it’s from; maybe it’s all simply down to his choice of words - mine. He knew what that did to you - what visceral effect it must have on you. Knew how much it meant to you to be wanted and desired and cherished by somebody like Billy Loomis. It was all you’d ever wanted. 

Except…

“Except I’m not.” Your voice barely comes out above a whisper. Billy comes to a halt, his lips moving from your collarbone as his brown eyes meet yours. He looks confused and vulnerable in a way that makes you sorry for even bringing it up, but you can’t ignore it. Not now. Not today. 

“You are. You know that you are. You mean everything to me, just-"

“Just not as much as Sidney, right?” Her name tastes like ash in your mouth. It always came back to Sidney Prescott - sweet, smart, stunning, Sidney. The girl who barely knew you yet always made an effort to smile at you in the hallway and compliment your outfits. The girl whose boyfriend you were sleeping with behind her back. 

From the moment he’d flashed you that charming smirk of his, you knew you were a goner for Billy Loomis. And you’d tried to fight it, you really had. He was bad news, all of your friends thought so, and most importantly, he had a girlfriend. Everybody knew him and Sidney were serious. And you were better than that, sleeping with a taken man. 

Except, as it turns out, you weren’t. Not really, anyway. He didn’t even have to try to get you in bed with him, but after the first time, you’d felt so goddamn guilty that you swore it would never happen again. 

Your resolve lasted an entire week. Billy was like a drug, alluring in every possible way and so entirely addictive. You couldn’t stay away from him even if you tried. And although the guilt never entirely disappeared, it sure as hell became easier to ignore when Billy whispered sweet nothings into your ear and made you feel like you’d had everything you’d been missing your entire life. 

“Sidney?” Billy laughs, a sound almost as beautiful as he is. “Sidney means nothing to me. I’m going to blow her off, and then we can really be together, do it right.”

As awful as it is, the thought of that seems completely compelling. You want to be Billy’s, utterly and solely, more than anything on this earth. Besides, anything would be better than passing him in the hallway and pretending you don’t know every fraction of him so completely intimately.  Pretending like he’s not the first and last thing you think of each day. Pretending that you don’t solely wear the single perfume that he complimented once.

So intimately that you know that, at this moment in time, you can’t believe a single word that flows from his mouth - no matter how desperately you want them to be true. 

“Billy,” you sigh, turning your head away from his pleading gaze. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he replies rather impatiently. “You know it’s-"

“Complicated,” you finish miserably. “I just don’t get why it has to be!”

“Look, I can’t talk about this right now. Can’t we just…” 

He trails off, and his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. It’s too easy to sink into it, to sit back and just let Billy take the lead and give you just what you want. It’s damn near impossible to pull back, but by some miracle, you manage to do so. 

“I’m just saying,” you protest. “If you can’t stand Sidney, if she’s truly as bad as you say she is, why can’t you just end things with her?” The sheer frustration that laces your tone is evident even to you. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this Billy, it’s driving me insane, I-"

“What, so you’re mad at me now?” Billy scoffs, tone completely accusatory. “Because you knew what you were getting into - you’re hardly innocent here, alright! I didn’t trick you into sleeping with me - last I checked, you're perfectly fine with our arrangement when it means you get to be the one under me! So why d’you even care, huh - in fact, why don’t you do us both a favour and keep the fuck out of my business?”

You reel back as if you’ve been slapped. Not because of what was said - you both know the words to be true, however deep down that is - but because of how much they hurt. You knew you were a horrible person, but you hoped that Billy saw you as more than that - you needed him to see you as more than that. And by the way he usually acted in your company when it was just the two of you, you thought that he did. When you were alone, he worshipped you. Fuck, the boy looked at you as if he was completely and utterly in awe of your mere presence. And he’d definitely never snapped at you like this. 

It’s one thing hating yourself for what you’re doing, but it’s another having the one person you love so deeply confirm all the ugly parts of your personality that you work so hard to keep hidden from the world. 

He can evidently read the hurt written all over your face, and Billy’s once irritated gaze softens. “Shit,” he breathes, and you can’t tell if he genuinely sounds remorseful or if you’re naively hearing what you want to believe. 

It’s easier to go with the latter option. 

You make a move to stand, but you feel a strong arm pulling you back down onto the bed below. “I’m so sorry,” Billy apologises, pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m being an ass, I know that. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, baby.” With your arm still in his tight grasp, it would be difficult to stand up without outright pushing him away from you. But with each hushed word Billy speaks, you find yourself wanting to stay more and more. After all, he was right. You were already guilty, and your dignity was clearly long gone. What would be the use in leaving? It’s not like you could fall any further from grace. 

Your eyes flutter closed as Billy kisses all along your jaw, mumbling apologies under his breath as he does so. “I’ll fix everything, I swear. You’ve just gotta trust me,” he vows before his lips suddenly move beside your ear. His breath is hot as he murmurs, “you do trust me, right doll?” A small, pathetic whimper escapes from the back of your throat, and you find yourself nodding before you even decide to move. 

“That’s my girl.” The honey-sweet tone of his voice is enough to make you crumble, and your fingers desperately start to make work of undoing his belt. It doesn’t take long, what with your hands working practically on autopilot. Billy takes the hint, and he eagerly pulls your shirt over your head with ease, strong fingers unclasping your bra once he’s finished. 

You’re making a complete fool of yourself, a bitter voice whispers at the edge of your mind. He’s spelled it out for you, and yet you’re still here, letting him undress you like this. How pitiful. 

It’s not incorrect. Billy Loomis had undoubtedly made a mess of you. Ruined you. Before all of this - and God, how long ago that seemed now - you were good. You were headstrong and assertive, and you’d never been one to let people walk all over you. That girl was a far cry from the person you were now, and she’d undeniably despise the idiotic fool you’d become.  

You wouldn’t exactly blame her, either. You know that when you get home, you won’t even be able to face your own reflection. You never can. 

But you also know damn well that when Billy undoubtedly comes running back to you, because he does, every single time without fail, you’ll blindly follow him right back into his arms - and right back into his bed. 

It’s awful. You know that, no matter how much parts of you try to pretend otherwise. There’s no sugarcoating it, no justification for your actions that aren’t completely shallow and selfish. You just have to hope that one day, you’ll snap out of it. If Billy doesn’t choose you - accept you fully like the way you accepted him long ago - you like to think that one day, you’ll have the self-respect to leave and tell Sidney the truth. Hope she’d accept your shitty excuse of an apology. But as you lay here in this room right now, back arched and Billy in between your legs, you know that day won’t be any time soon.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

delicate - m. murdock

        

a/n: hi everyone :) it's been a while since i posted here but i am back with a fic on my latest hyperfixation! hopefully you all enjoy it and i appreciate any feedback you have on this little passion piece :) warnings: slight nsfw (no real smut but making out, teasing, etc) below the cutt, slight power dynamic because matt is readers boss, afab reader with no specific characterstics, shy!reader, matt being a tease, suggestive fluff ! lmk if i missed any! word count: 1228           now playing: delicate by taylor swift “is it cool that I said all that? / is it chill that you’re in my head?’

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   Every time you look up, it’s like he’s already looking at you—Every time.

 ��          It’s honestly beginning to creep you out, and you’ve been meaning to bring it up with him privately, really, you swear every time you find yourself alone with him, you want to discuss it. Except every time you want to, he’s kissing you before you can find the words.

            Matt Murdock cannot get enough of your lips, and he’s starting to worry he might have to check himself into rehab, pray, something, anything, to stop his growing addiction to you.

            Like right now— Foggy was on lunch with Marci, eating peacefully in his office. Karen had run out to investigate a possible lead on a case the firm had just picked up. When Matt had called you into his office, you, half distracted with the papers that were in your hands, didn’t think of the possibility of ulterior motives on the man’s part.

            He closed the door behind you as you kept reading the papers, muttering something about how you knew that a break in the case was quickly approaching, before turning to him.             And he’s just looking at you.

            “Everything okay there?” You ask, the papers landing on his desk, as he hums, a playful smirk on his lips.

            “Just thinking about how beautiful you are, sweetheart.” He charms, and you just scoff, your throat drying, heart racing, face flushing.

            “You don’t even know what I look like.” You defend, leaning against his desk. He hums, slowly approaching you, maybe even stalking you, wanting to make sure you won’t run off if he gets too close. He gets close enough to you where you almost want to run away, just as he fears you will. It’s not that you don’t adore the proximity, it’s just that Matt has a way of making you nervous, even shy. Which was not like you at all—Sure, you were never particularly popular in school, but everyone knew you and you were liked. When you got the job at Nelson, Murdock & Page, Karen and Foggy became friends of yours instantly, your wit drawing them in like a moth to a flame.

            But the man with the red glasses had made you nervous.

            It was as if he knew it too, despite his lack of vision, because he was cocky about it. And holy shit, if that didn’t make you want him more. So, when he finally kissed you last month, in the back of Josie’s dingy dive bar, it was almost impossible to come up for air. And he only chuckled when he heard your shaky breath, telling you to relax as he began to press kisses along your jaw, cheek and neck.

            You haven’t come up for air since.

            He finally stopped moving when he was just in front of you, before wrapping his arms around your waist, hoisting you into his desk. Then, his hands traveled down to your thighs, humming at the soft feeling of your skin, radiating this nervous heat about you. He stepped between your legs, hands never leaving your thighs, and brought his forehead to yours.

            You quietly, a little in awe of him, reached up, removing his glasses from his face, to admire his pretty brown eyes.

            The papers on his desk have been long since forgotten.

            “You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t. But maybe you could tell me.” He said, taking your hands in his.

            You let out a nervous giggle, and it made him grin.

            “This is funny to you? I’m trying to romance my girl, and you’re laughing?” That has you laughing again, and he lets out a chuckle to accompany it.

            My girl, he had said.

            “I’m sorry,” You started, “You just make me so damn nervous. I’m not used to this.” You explain, and he lets out a sympathetic hum.  

            “Mm, I know, baby. But you’ve still got to tell me what you look like.” He says softly.

            You exhale, taking his hands and bringing them up to your face. First, you bring his left hand to your hair, letting him play with the ends of it. You tell him the color and let him feel the texture and length of it for himself. Then both hands come back to your face and cup your cheeks.

            “Your cheeks are very warm... Am I making you shy?” He asks, that teasing tone lingering in the question.

            You scoff softly at him, before you bring his right pointer finger to your nose, running it along the shape of it, so he can imagine it well. “This is my nose.” Then you close your eyes, and bring his fingertips up to your eyes, describing the color of them for him before adding, “I use these for looking at my very hot boss, who has every idea of the effect he has on me.” You grin.

            “Sounds like a dick.” He quips, his fingers landing on your cheeks again.

            “Mm, sometimes.” You joke back. Then, you guide his fingertips towards your lips, “And these are my lips... You know all too well what they can do.” At your teasing, it’s his turn to exhale shakily.

            “Do you know how badly I want you when you say things like that, sweetheart?” He asks, and you make a noise of faux confusion. It makes him chuckle—not in the same lighthearted way as before, though, there’s something darker about it now.

            Not that you have much time to process that, because suddenly he’s kissing you, his hands back on your thighs, and you react quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him close. When he breaks the kiss for air, just for a moment, it’s torture, enough to have you grab his tie and pull him in for another, and another.

            It’s been a while since you’ve come up for air, remember?

            After a few more minutes of kissing, you with all his passion he might save for other facets of his life, Matt’s hands travel up your thighs, pushing your skirt up, and he pulls away, a whine coming from your lips.

            “Sh, sh, sh... Easy, sweetheart. Gotta breath remember?” He says soft, and you hum in acknowledgement. “Good. Good girl for me... Isn’t that right?” And you just hum again, but he tuts in disapproval. “Gotta hear you say it for me, sweet girl.”

            “Yeah...” You finally say, “Always wanna be your best girl.” You manage out. It makes him smile, and he steps away, taking your hand and leading you off the desk. He pulls your skirt back down, and you fix your hair, before grabbing his hand. He looks at you quizzically, before you start to fix his tie.

            He grins when he realizes and presses a kiss to your forehead, before telling you gently, in the quiet solitude of his office, where no one can hear you and no one is any wiser to what you were just doing, “Be a good girl for me for the rest of the day, and I’ll take such good care of you when we get home. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

            It’s almost too much for you, but you manage out a small, “Of course, honey.”

            He’s still smiling when he says, “That’s my girl.” Before kissing your head again, and opening the door, beginning your countdown to when you finally get back to his apartment.

[astrangetorpedo]

Julien Baker Track by Track - An Interview with Apple Music

“Everybody is scared of death or ultimate oblivion, whether you want to admit it or not,” Julien Baker tells Apple Music. “That’s motivated by a fear of uncertainty, of what’s beyond our realm of understanding—whatever it feels like to be dead or before we're born, that liminal space. It's the root of so much escapism.”

On her third full-length, Baker embraces fuller arrangements and a full-band approach, without sacrificing any of the intimacy that galvanised her earlier work. The result is at once a cathartic and unabashedly bleak look at how we distract ourselves from the darkness of voids both large and small, universal and personal.

“It was easier to just write for the means of sifting through personal difficulties,” she says. “There were a lot of paradigm shifts in my understanding of the world in 2019 that were really painful. I think one of the easiest ways to overcome your pain is to assign significance to it. But sometimes, things are awful with no explanation, and to intellectualise them kind of invalidates the realness of the suffering. I just let things be sad.”

Here, the Tennessee singer-songwriter walks us through the album track by track.

Hardline

“It’s more of a confession booth song, which a lot of these are. I feel like whenever I imagine myself in a pulpit, I don't have a lot to say that's honest or useful. And when I imagine myself in a position of disclosing, in order to bring me closer to a person, that's when I have a lot to say.”

Heatwave

“I wrote it about being stuck in traffic and having a full-on panic attack. But what was causing the delay was just this car that had a factory defect and bomb-style exploded. I was like, ‘Man, someone got incinerated. A family maybe.’ The song feels like a fall, but it's born from the second verse where I feel like I'm just walking around with my knees in gravel or whatever the verse in Isaiah happens to be: the willing submission to suffering and then looking around at all these people's suffering, thinking that is a huge obstacle to my faith and my understanding, this insanity and unexplainable hurt that we're trying to heal with ideology instead of action.”

Faith Healer

“I have an addictive personality and I understand it's easy for me to be an escapist with substances because I literally missed being high. That was a real feeling that I felt and a feeling that felt taboo to say outside of conversations with other people in recovery. The more that I looked at the space that was left by substance or compulsion that I've then just filled with something else, the more I realised that this is a recurring problem in my personality. And so many of the things that I thought about myself that were noble or ultimately just my pursuit of knowing God and the nature of God—that craving and obsession is trying to assuage the same pain that alcohol or any prescription medication is.”

Relative Fiction

“The identity that I have worked so hard to cultivate as a good person or a kind person is all basically just my own homespun mythology about myself that I'm trying to use to inspire other people to be kinder to each other. Maybe what's true about me is true about other people, but this song specifically is a ruthless evaluation of myself and what I thought made me principled. It's kind of a fool's errand.”

Crying Wolf

“It's documenting what it feels like to be in a cyclical relationship, particularly with substances. There was a time in my life, for almost a whole year, where it felt like that. I think that is a very real place that a lot of people who struggle with substance use find themselves in, where the resolution of every day is the same and you just can’t seem to make it stick.”

Bloodshot

“The very first line of the song is talking about two intoxicated people—myself being one of them—looking at each other and me having this out-of-body experience, knowing that we are both bringing to our perception of the other what we need the other person to be. That's a really lonely and sad place to be in, the realisation that we're each just kind of sculpting our own mythologies about the world, crafting our narratives.”

Ringside

“I have a few tics that manifest themselves with my anxiety and OCD, and for a long time, I would just straight-up punch myself in the head—and I would do it onstage. It's this extension of physicality from something that's fundamentally compulsive that you can't control. I can't stop myself from doing that, and I feel really embarrassed about it. And for some reason I also can't stop myself from doing other kinds of more complicated self-punishment, like getting into co-dependent relationships and treating each one of those like a lottery ticket. Like, 'Maybe this one will work out.'”

Favor

“I have a friend whose parents live in Jackson, where my parents live. They’re one of my closest friends and they were around for the super dark part of 2019. I'll try to talk to the person who I hurt or I'll try to admit the wrongdoing that I've done. I'll feel so much guilt about it that I'll cry. And then I'll hate that I've cried because now it seems manipulative. I'm self-conscious about looking like I hate myself too much for the wrong things I've done because then I kind of steal the person's right to be angry. I don't want to cry my way out of shit.”

Song in E

“I would rather you shout at me like an equal and allow me to inhabit this imagined persona I have where I'm evil. Because then, if I can confirm that you hate me and that I'm evil and I've failed, then I don't any longer have to deal with the responsibility of trying to be good. I don't any longer have to be saddled with accountability for hurting you as a friend. It’s something not balancing in the arithmetic of my brain, for sin and retribution, for crime and punishment. And it indebts you to a person and ties you to them to be forgiven.”

Repeat

“I tried so hard for so long not to write a tour song, because that's an experience that musicians always write about that's kind of inaccessible to people who don't tour. We were in Germany and I was thinking: Why did I choose this? Why did I choose to rehash the most emotionally loaded parts of my life on a stage in front of people? But that's what rumination is. These are the pains I will continue to experience, on some level, because they're familiar.”

Highlight Reel

“I was in the back of a cab in New York City and I started having a panic attack and I had to get out and walk. The highlight reel that I'm talking about is all of my biggest mistakes, and that part—‘when I die, you can tell me how much is a lie’—is when I retrace things that I have screwed up in my life. I can watch it on an endless loop and I can torture myself that way. Or I can try to extract the lessons, however painful, and just assimilate those into my trying to be better. That sounds kind of corny, but it's really just, what other options do you have except to sit there and stare down all your mistakes every night and every day?”

Ziptie

“I was watching people be restrained with zip ties on the news. It's just such a visceral image of violence to see people put restraints on another human being—on a demonstrator, on a person who is mentally ill, on a person who is just minding their own business, on a person who is being racially profiled. I had a dark, funny thought that's like, what if God could go back and be like, ‘Y'all aren't going to listen.’ Jesus sacrificed himself and everybody in the United States seems to take that as a true fact, and then shoot people in cold blood in the street. I was just like, ‘Why?’ When will you call off the quest to change people that are so horrid to each other?”

(x)