#also your butt looks fucking ridiculous sir

[kedreeva]

Me, trying to get one nice photo of Polaris:

Polaris:

Idiot.

[wannab-urs]

You Have Me In a Chokehold | Mr. Ben (SNL) x teacher!reader | 18+

Summary: You’re a teacher at Mr. Ben’s school and you’re sitting in the “No More Fancams” assembly freaking out because he just showed your fancam on screen… Do you think he knows it was you? (AU where he’s not in love with Ms. Jenny, the assembly just ends with him being like “please don’t do this anymore, thanks”)

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: MDNI | 18+ | SMUT | no ages implied (all legal obvi), hair pulling, sir kink, very mild degrading language, fingering, unprotected PiV (don’t be silly, wrap your willy) (also y’all are teachers, you should know better), rough-ish sex but no one gets hurt, Mr. Ben is girthy (Big Ben ;) ), brief mention of the picture of dorian gray, which deserves its own warning if you’ve ever tried to teach that book to teenagers, extreme cringe in the first half. Gets weirdly fluffy at the end so if that kills your vibe just stop reading after the uhhhh climax of the story (if you catch my drift). Sorry we support aftercare in this house. I think that’s it, love y’all, enjoy! 

It’s 8 in the morning, supposed to be first period, and the principal has called for some technology assembly. You’re unlucky enough to have first period planning, you have essays to grade, and you won’t have a spare minute for the rest of the day. But sure, let’s all go sit in the gym so the boomers can lecture the zoomers about technology use. This is a great use of everyone’s time. 

You slip into the auditorium with 5 minutes to spare, hoping to go unnoticed in the back row. You’re just about to subtly put in your airpods and watch TikToks like 90% of the students, when you hear the principal introduce Mr. Ben. This assembly suddenly became worth paying attention to. 

Ben is by far the prettiest thing to look at in this school. He’s ridiculously broad chested, always wearing these just-shy-of-too-tight button ups that he pairs with definitely-a-little-too-tight pants, accentuating his cute butt. He has toned forearms, usually peeking out of rolled up sleeves, and huge hands that he waves around in the air or clasps in front of him when he speaks. And then, despite being this big, broad, powerful looking man, he has the sweetest face. 

His eyes are soft brown, hooded and turned down a little, so he’s basically making puppy dog eyes constantly. His nose is prominent and curved and sitting above the most adorably pouty lips. His facial hair is sparse and a little patchy, but honestly it just makes him even more charming. God, you have it so bad for this man. 

Your internal drooling over Ben is interrupted by the sound of a freshman at the front of the room yelling, “Come on guuurrrrl, eat it up!” Your eyes flick to the screen beside Ben. There are two very vague tech rules followed by… Shit. 

“Do not make fancams of school staff, such as this,” says Ben, gesturing at the screen. And your stomach does a somersalt. Shit! There’s a TikTok playing on the screen, and though you can’t quite make out the username, you definitely recognize the video. That’s your fancam. And Ben looks… mortified. He looks extremely uncomfortable. 

“You have made thousands of fancams of me and i’m not sure what they mean, but I know it has to stop,” he pleads. And fuck is he looking at you? He can’t know can he? There’s absolutely no way he knows. He’s just looking out toward the back of the auditorium. Yeah. You wouldn’t want to make eye contact with a bunch of 14 years olds while pictures of you flash on the screen either. That makes perfect sense. 

“We make them because you’re our beloved and you have us a in a chokehold,” screams another student toward the front. You wish he would put you in a chokehold. GOD what is wrong with you. Pull yourself together.

“Okay, don’t say that,” Ben says, wringing his hands together in front of him. You can see that he’s clearly uncomfortable. You should delete your account. Ban him from your thoughts. You’ve crossed the line big time.

“I just don’t understand. Why do you make sparkly fast romantic montages of me every single day?” he asks. Another fancam, thankfully not yours, begins playing on the screen. You have to get out of here. 

You stand up and try to sneak out as inconspicuously as possible, whispering “Bathroom,” in response to a disapproving look from another, older teacher. 

You break into a run as soon as you get into the hall and only slow down when you’re safely locked in the handicap stall of the teacher bathroom. You slide down the wall to the floor and press your face into your hands. You are so stupid. Of course making fancams of school staff is a bad idea. It’s bad when the kids do it… and really weird because they’re kids… but when another teacher does it? He could have you fired for this. 

But he doesn’t know. There’s no way he knows. 

You manage to make it through the rest of the day, somehow facing your classes and teaching them about nouns and reading a bit more of The Picture of Dorian Gray aloud. 

It’s finally the end of the day, but you still have those essays to grade, so you decide to set a timer for one hour and power through as many as you can. The school is so weirdly silent this long after final bell. The custodians won’t be in for another couple hours and pretty much every teacher and student has long gone home. 

You finish packing your tote bag and start shrugging on your coat when you hear a knock at the door. “Come in!” 

You freeze when the door opens. Shit.

“Ben! Hi! How can I help you? I was just leaving, but-” the sharp sound of the door slamming shut cuts off your nervous rambling. Ben stands with his hands behind his back, puffing his very broad chest out. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me something, sweetheart.” His voice is low, gravelly, and you feel like you’re being raked over hot coals. He knows. 

“Um. Sure?” you squeak out. Your face is on fire and you have no idea what to do with your hands. He takes a step toward you, looking for all the world like a predator stalking it’s pray. His eyes are dark, brow lowered, lips set in a hard line. He looks nothing like the shy, uncomfortable man from the assembly. 

Your bag drops to the floor and you take a stuttering step back toward your desk. 

“What’s your TikTok username?” he asks slowly, taking another step toward you. 

You gulp and fall back another step, thighs pressing against your desk now. Your shake your head and glue your eyes to the floor. 

“Don’t make me ask again.” And oh god he’s right in front of you now. He hooks a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his. His pupils are blown so wide, you can barely see his usually warm brown irises. Wait is he turned on right now? 

“It’s- uh… I don’t have one!” you stammer out. You try to look away, but his fingers hold your chin in place. He leans a bit closer, his breath ghosting over your face, and presses his other palm into the desk beside you. He tsks and presses his thumb to your bottom lip.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls out, and oh that went straight to your core. You squirm in his hold and that’s when you truly realize how close he is. His body is nearly pressed against yours. 

“It’s- it’s… fuck. It’s MrBensLittleSlut…” you stammer out. You feel like you’re on fire, ashamed of your actions, but also incredibly fucking turned on. The object of your not-so-innocent crush has you pressed against your desk like some school girl fantasy. 

“And do you really want to be my little slut, sweetheart?” Holy. Shit. Did he really just ask you that? Your heart actually stops beating in your chest for a second. You nod. 

“Aloud, please.” 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. 

He brings one hand to the back of your head and wraps your hair around his fingers, pulling your head back slightly. You whimper and he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. And you think you’ll melt into puddle on the spot. His hands slide to your hips and he lifts you up onto the edge of the desk. You instinctively part your legs and he presses himself flush against you. He keeps one hand on your waist to steady you and slides the other back up into your hair and suddenly his lips are on yours. 

It’s sloppy and open mouthed and greedy. He licks into your mouth, curling his tongue around yours. Your hands find purchase around his biceps and you hold on for dear life. His fist tightens in your hair and you moan wantonly, throwing your head back and pushing your hips up into his, chasing friction. 

His lips trail down your jaw and he nips at your earlobe before sucking a kiss to the spot where your jaw meets your throat. You dig your nails into his muscular arms and choke on a gasp. 

“Please,” you whine, shifting your hips against him again.

“Please what, sweetheart?” you can feel him smirking into the skin of your throat. He loves how riled up you are. Loves watching you try and fail to grind yourself on him. 

“Please- please touch me, sir,” he rolls his hips into yours, finally giving you something. Anything to ease the burning desire between your legs.

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” he growls in your ear. Then you feel his right hand leave your waist and pull up your skirt. He drags his fingertips up the inside of your left thigh, featherlight. Finally, he hooks two fingers into the soaked crotch of your panties and drags his knuckles across your clit. 

You suck in a gasp and a little “Oh” falls from your lips. He pulls back, keeping his left hand in your hair and watches as he slowly sinks two fingers into your cunt, down to the knuckle. Your hands ball up into fists, twisting the sleeves of his shirt and you let out a long, breathy moan. 

“You’re so wet for me already, sweetheart. Really are a little slut, aren’t you?” Your pussy clenches around his thick fingers at his words.

“Yes! Yes, I’m your little slut!” you gasp out.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, hooking them just right so that he hits the spongy spot inside you every time. You’re holding onto his shirt so tight you think you might rip the sleeves off. You can hear how wet you are, the sound echoing off the cinderblock walls. You start moving your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers inside you, chasing your orgasm. 

“I’m-- I’m gonna--” you clench hard around his fingers, so close to tipping over the edge.

And then his touch is gone. He’s pulled his fingers out of you and let go of you completely, taking a step back. You let out an actual scream of frustration. “No!” you shout, slumping back until your head hits your desk. You actually pout at him.

“Not yet, sweetheart. Want you to come on my cock.” His voice is so low, you almost can’t hear him over the sound of your heaving breaths. “Sit up, pretty girl.”

You push yourself back up and take in his appearance. Other than his rumpled shirt, he looks completely unbothered. His hair is still effortlessly tousled, his face is set into a teasing smirk. The fucker didn’t even break a sweat and you’re gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Pretty girl. He called you pretty.

“Bend over the desk, sweetheart.” 

You scramble to obey his request, standing up and bending over, pushing your ass into the air. You press your forehead into the desk and try to calm your fluttering heart rate. 

Suddenly… finally… you feel his hands on you. He grabs your skirt and bunches it up around your waist. His fingertips slide into the waistband of your panties and he pushes them down, letting them settle around your ankles. You hear the clink of a belt buckle, the tug of a zipper, and then you feel him. 

He slides his cock between your clenched thighs, through the wet folds of your pussy and oh god. You can’t see him, but you can feel that he’s thick. The head of his cock presses against your clit and you moan. 

“Such a pretty little pussy… I’m going to ruin it.” You gasp, but before you can respond, he’s moving. In one fluid motion, he pulls back, kicks your feet apart, and pushes all the way into you. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan out. You might pass out from pleasure. His cock is thick, filling you up and stretching you out more than you ever have been before. He holds still inside you while you clench and unclench around his girth, trying to get used to it. “So big.” you gasp into the desk. 

“I know, baby.” And then he moves, pulling all the way out to the tip and thrusting hard, all the way back in. The force of his hips smacking against your ass jolts you into the desk, making you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain and sprawl forward on the desk. 

Ben grabs your shoulder with one hand, tightens his grip on your hip with the other, and resumes fucking into you at an absolutely brutal pace. 

Some part of you is scared you’ll get caught, but that part is overpowered by the euphoria you feel. You’re moaning and babbling incoherently as his cock hits that sweet spot deep inside you and grinds into it with every thrust. 

“Is my. Little. Slut. Gonna. Come. on my. Cock?” Ben grits out between thrusts. 

You cry out a garbled response. Your cunt is fluttering around his thick length and your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and there’s no way you can form words right now. 

Ben wraps his arm around your chest and pulls you back against him. His cock hits something deep inside you and you come with an agonizing cry, gushing around his cock and soaking him to the base. 

Your whole body goes limp with the force of your orgasm, but he holds you up and continues fucking up into you. After a few more thrusts, he pulls out and covers your ass and thighs in his release, letting out a low groan as the thick ropes hit your skin. 

You’re lying on the desk on your stomach, naked ass still in the air. It’s a ridiculous position to lay in, but you’re still riding the high of your orgasm and too blissed out to care. You jolt as you feel silk move across your over-sensitive skin. 

“What’re you doing?” You’re so drunk on his cock, it comes out slurred.

“Cleaning you up, sweetheart,” Ben says. Is he- he’s cleaning you up with his tie. Fuck that’s hot. And sweet? 

“Thank you…” you sigh into the desk. He pulls your panties back up for you and settles your skirt back down around your legs.

“Can you sit up for me, baby?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to your feet, nestling your head into the curve of his shoulder.

It’s not fair for him to fuck you that good and go right to being the sweet, bashful man you thought you knew. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and presses a soft, almost tender, kiss to your nose. You giggle and the sound makes him break out into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his dimple peeking out behind a 5 o’clock shadow. 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ll walk you to your car.” 

He grabs your coat and your tote bag, slips his hand into yours, and leads you out to the parking lot.

a/n: I’m so sorry. This is ridiculous and I apologize for the no plot snl character porn fic. 

Tags: @beskarandblasters @meveispunk

[lefaystrent]

One Man's Boon is Another Man's Bummer

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: none despite God's best efforts

Summary: "So because I lived a boring ass life and never had a long time boyfriend or got married or whatever sentimental crap, I'm being subjected to...romance? In an alternate universe? After dying?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

In other words, Virgil gets isikaed.

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

The weirdest part of Virgil's day is not waking up in a fantasy universe where he's apparently the son of a very prominent lord.

The weirdest part is not even the fact that he remembers vividly dying in the most horrifically embarrassing way before waking up in said universe. He slipped in the shower and banged his head. Naked. People were going to find his dead body and it was naked. He thinks he could die a second time just picturing it.

The weirdest part is also not that the sky is green here and the grass is blue. Or that dragons grow no bigger than miniature ponies and aristocrats keep them as symbolic pets to stroke their elitist egos. Or that normal fucking water tastes like peppermint. Virgil hates peppermint.

No, the weirdest thing?

That would be the tiny fairy named Thomas who flies around him, unable to be seen by everyone else, and proudly declared himself as Virgil's guide to finding true love.

Virgil sits on a California sized king bed propped up by a dozen pillows. He wears pajamas made from like, fancy imported spider silk material. Except Virgil asked why the hell someone had dressed him in silk pajamas while he'd been sleeping and a maid looked at him and asked, "What's silk, sir?"

They call it tissle. Virgil isn't sure why, but just the sound of the word pisses him off. He's wearing tissle pajamas, how silly of him.

Of course, the anger came way after the panic. The kind of screeching panic that catapulted him from the ridiculous bed and had him screaming in fright at all of the servants that dared to approach him. And there were quite a few servants too. And they called him "young lord" and tried to calm him down and explained that he had not been kidnapped by rich people but lived here. This was his home. He had fainted in the garden, didn't he remember?

No the fuck he doesn't remember.

"It's to be expected," Thomas the fairy tells him sympathetically. He flits about, trailing glitter out of his butt or whatever. He's got butterfly wings and wears a sparkly tunic getup, and Virgil has tried numerous times to clap his hands at him like he's an annoying mosquito but he keeps getting away.

"What, my life becoming an isikae anime?" Virgil asks petulantly. He's allowed to be a little petulant, given the situation.

Thomas giggles, "No, of course not! That part's a once in a chance lifetime! You're very lucky."

"Look into my eyes and say that again."

"Er, what I meant was that a little memory loss is to be expected from the experience."

"I died. I woke up in a stupid fantasy universe. I've been kidnapped by rich people. What am I not remembering here?"

"Other than all the memories from this alternate reality? Nothing much, you pretty much got it!"

If looks alone could sear the flesh from bones...

Thomas waves his hands and wisely flutters back a foot. "Hey, don't give me that look. I'm just your guide. I didn't select you for soul reassignment."

Virgil honestly growls, "Then who's the bastard responsible for this so I can shove my foot up their ass?"

"Are you always this violent?"

No, not really. Virgil lived a pretty boring, mediocre life before he died. Most days, he'd rather fall down an open manhole than subject himself to confrontation.

He doesn't exactly feel like himself at the moment. The only saving grace is that his body is unchanged. He's got the same terrible pale skin, lanky limbs, and dark bangs that hang in his eyes. Had he woken up as a completely different person... That would have thrust him into madness.

"So what did I do to be so lucky?" Virgil asks, deadpanned.

They're alone in this massive bedroom that could fit his old apartment. It took awhile, but he'd managed to push the servants out the door and barricade it. Now he can talk freely with the buzzing insect and not be seen as crazy. Crazier. Crazier than before, at least

Thomas twirls in the air, and there are tiny golden bells tied around his ankles that chime with the movement. He's brimming with cheer as he explains, "Very few souls receive the honor of soul reassignment. This occurs at the time of passing, when the body can no longer contain the soul. Normally, the person would pass on into the afterlife, but the powers that be decided to give you a second chance!"

"So I need to kick God's ass is what you're saying."

"The powers that be, and no. There will be no kicking of deity booties. This is meant to be a precious boon for those who experienced purpose unfulfilled."

"So because I lived a boring ass life and never had a long time boyfriend or got married or whatever sentimental crap, I'm being subjected to...romance? In an alternate universe? After dying?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

Virgil lays down on the bed and cover his head with the blankets. "I'm going to sleep and never waking up."

"Wha– but Virgil! I haven't even told you about your five prospective love interests! They were specifically chosen for you!"

Virgil can hear and feel the fairy thrumming above him. Itty bitty hands tug at his hair to no effect.

"Young lord?" a voice calls beyond the barricadded door. "We sent for a physician and your parents are on their way as well. We're worried for you. Please let us help."

"Fat chance," Virgil seethes and stays in bed out of spite.

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

A/N: Yes the five love interests are the other sides. No I have no current plans to continue this AU. I just wanted to make Virgil suffer. But I can tell you that the story would revolve around Virgil meeting all of the sides, finding himself in cliche romantic situations, and vehemently refusing to fall in love with any of them. The powers that be watch on from above very tiredly. Thomas tries his best to be a literal wingman. Virgil's more interested in finding new things to despise about the fantasy world he now lives in.

[gothamstories1212]

HELLO. I enjoyed your lil Miah headcanon, SO would you mind if I requested a smit fic for him? With fem!reader. It can be anything, really. But I think it would be cute if we talked more about him staring at the reader’s sleeping form, and also seeing her in tight clothes.

Thank you in advance! 💖

This definitely has my brain tingling!!

Jeremiah Valeska x F!reader smut

Warning:smut with a little plot

Can’t help myself

‘Miah worked late sometimes but this was ridiculous. It was 10 at night five hours past our date. I even wore his favorite outfit. A dark purple sweater that barely covered my butt and my black leggings.

Pissed off, I flung myself onto our bed and laid down. I must’ve fell asleep because i woke up to hands on my legs

“‘Miah, what are you doing?”

“Sorry love, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just had to touch you. You know I can’t help myself when you wear this outfit.”

“I wore this outfit for our date. That you are now 12 hours late for. So you don’t get to enjoy this outfit or anything under it tonight.” He flinched a bit but immediately shut me down.

“I’ll let that attitude slide this time love, but you know you don’t say no to me.” His eyebrow raised and he looked downright pissed.

“Whatever ‘Miah” I slammed my head back into the bed without even thinking about it. But I knew I fucked up when I felt him grab my hand and forcibly pull me up.

“I said you don’t say no to me.” He kissed me harshly. I tried not to give in easily, but my mind goes blank when ‘Miah kisses me.

“Mmm baby.”

“Say my name.”

“Jeremiah” I moaned out. He shook his head signaling that I was still wrong.

“Sir” He smiled into the kiss. He loves when I submit to him. But not tonight.

I flipped us over so I am on top. I also put my hand on his throat but I knew not to put any pressure on his throat. He was letting me do this so there was no reason to push my luck.

“What are you doing love?” His eyebrow raised at me.

“Well since you did something bad, I thought I would punish you. Like when I do something you don’t like you punish me.” He smirked.

“You have 20 minutes and if you don’t stop by then, you are in trouble.” I immediately got to work on his pants.

I pulled out his dick and slowly started stroking it. Looking up at him I could see he wanted more, but he was too proud to beg for it. His head was back against the mattress and he was almost rutting into my hand. I then pulled him to the edge of the bed and got on my knees and went to work on him. About ten minutes later I could tell he was close, if the moans and mumbled words were any indication. I waited till he was at the brink of cumming and I stopped. His eyes opened and his head shot up to me.

“Why did you stop?”

“Punishment, oh and I had five minutes left. Just letting you know.” I walk over to my side of the bed and flop down with my back facing him.

I knew he was pissed off by his breathing. ‘Miah does a great job at not blowing up when he is upset. You almost can’t even tell he is upset, until you hear his slowed down, long breaths. I felt his mouth by my neck.

“Love, you know better than to do that.” I nodded with no reply. He flipped me on my back and rutted into my thigh.

I eyed him down trying to assert dominance over him but the look on his face caused me to falter, and before I knew it our clothes were off and he was pounding into me. He had me in his favorite position. Face down ass up.

“Miah!” I just about yelled out. He pushed my head into the mattress.

“What did I say about being loud?”

“If I am too loud you’ll stop.”

“Good listening baby, now shut up and take what I give you.” I nodded.

The feeling of being full of him felt so delicious that I was just about salivating. I can say a lot of bad things about Jeremiah, but none of them could be about this.

“Are you gonna take my cum?” I nodded and a few more thrusts he came in me. I was expecting him to pull out but he just repositioned us in a cuddling position while he stayed inside me.

As I fell asleep I couldn’t imagine the sweet things ‘Miah would say while admiring my sleeping form. Not a sexual desire but almost a protective desire, a desire to stay cuddled together and forget the rest of the world.

Maybe in another world he would pick only her. In another world he wouldn’t have been gassed and he could muster the courage to propose with the ring he got a month before the accident. In another world he wouldn’t have to pretend to be single to keep her safe. Maybe.

A/n

Sorry it took me so long to do. I have had a lot of personal things going on lately. I hope you like it!!

[daincrediblegg]

2, 9, 11, 12, 22?

2. Do you read/reread your own fics? It really honestly kindof depends on the fandom on this one. Generally speaking when I put some creative thing out there of any kind I am loathe to re-watch or re-read it (with the exception of looking at my own fanart- unless it was especially bad I love looking back at some of my old stuff just for the sheer thrill of seeing how much progress I’ve made) BUtT!!!! There is the exception of when it’s like. I’m either in a fandom in which the character I like gets character assassinated in fics a lot of the time and I need enrichment from outside sources or my own. OR when I’m just in a fandom where people don’t write x reader fics that much for the character and I’m the only one writing them and I have to re-read myself bc that’s the only content out there (current predicament re; everything Jared Harris has been in and it’s a crime that I’ve spent the whole year trying to remedy lmao).

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

OK SO!!!! This was actually a couple of paragraphs I got down yesterday and it’s some of the more solid stuff I’ve put out in recent months, but I’m very proud of how it turned out:

Sinclair was never particularly fussy when it came to her appearance, which made changing for dinner a fairly brief affair. She had learned from an early age that there was certainly no room for such attentions on a ship, and in fact had great fun in witnessing first-time sea-faring ladies, passengers of course on The Demeter, who tried to keep their appearances in spite of the swell and sway of the high seas. She remembered fondly then, the laugh of Mrs. Rose Anthony. How she’d wished to hear it now and all these months gone past. She would have laughed to see Fitzjames on the deck this morning, with that ridiculous cloak flowing behind him like a peacock with his feathers at half mast. None of the men would see it as she did. Not that she was in too much want of friends among them. But fewer still would understand her sense of humor as Rose had.  Pondering this, Sinclair forewent her shirt and waistcoat- both of which were custom tailored, as it wouldn’t do for the navy to commission such a garment. But her father had, for her sake. One of his many parting gifts. The very same man whose picture Sinclair’s gaze drifted to as she buttoned the deep blue bodice that had also been part of the set he had purchased for her, this one long sleeved to match the deep blue flannel day skirt she kept on, and which had served her so well in the chilly climate. She’d missed too how well he’d been able to do her hair for an occasion like this, where Sinclair now only managed a bun tied fairly neatly to the back of her head (more than she’d dare to manage for her daily duties, she might add), but it suited her all the same for the impression Sir John, and indeed, most of the men had of her. Neat as a pin. Diligent. A fixture of a plain sort of beauty in the corner. Never the center of their attentions, but never quite ignored.

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

As I said in the other ask I have like. Just so many. None of them coherent- but THIS ONE has been my instrumental inspiration for a little while so there you have it. Someday I will consolidate all my fave lady terror vibes into a proper playlist... but that is not today...

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

I mean… sort of. Like in general I do like to have some kind of sense where something is going before I start it- if it’s anything I’ve learned from commercial failures like GOT and the Star Wars Sequels it’s that poor planning will fucking kill you because actually as it turns out narrative structure is important. But at the same time- I think this was a quote from George R.R. Martin that some writers are “builders” who have everything pre-conceived before they put anything down (in reference to Stephen King), and some are “gardeners” (like George) who let stories just grow as they go. For me personally I’ve never felt too tied to either camp, so I put forth my secret third option being: “chef”. I know what I want the end-product to be. I have a general sense of what it should taste like and how I should cook it-thematically speaking. But things still come up as I go. Sometimes it needs a bit more of one spice than another and I try to listen to those instincts when they tell me to add something to what I’m making. 

11 ANSWERED HERE

[reader-mon]

BNHAlentines ❥ Borrowing Clothes

a/n: im a fucking sucker for big chara clothes on smol s/o so have this loool decided to do headcanons for the tallest pro heros and then the tallest in class 1-a character: Fatgum, All Might, Gang Orca, Sir Nighteye, Todoroki Shouto, Bakugo Katsuki warning: aged up characters, some suggestive themes

Toyomitsu Taishiro

very very big man

his canon height is like a little over 8ft so that's wildt

his clothes are mostly comfortable clothes; hoodies, zip-up jackets, big crew neck sweaters or cotton t-shirts

he has a lot of clothes since he has to have some that fit his skinny form and then ones that fit his fat form

both forms are huge so all of his clothes are like xxxl

doesn't have a preference for whether his partner wears his clothes or not; if they want to, they can go ahead, if they don't then that's fine too

if his partner does wear his clothes, he hypes them up a lot! he'd be very handsy and fascinated

he didn't think his clothes were that big of a deal but, then his partner wore them and, suddenly, his clothes look like peak fashion to him loool

Taishiro scratched his head, his eyes darting here and there. He stood in his walk-in closet, his head almost touching the ceiling, as he scanned for his hero costume. For the life of him, though, he couldn't find it.

"Sweetcheeks?" He called out, wondering if you had somehow moved it or gone to go wash it without telling him. He scuffed that thing like nobody's business sometimes and it irked you when he'd place it among the clean clothes.

You peeked your head in, your hair still ruffled from rolling around the bed at night. He could physically feel his entire body melt and soften at the sight of you, still warm from sleep and so very obviously cuddly.

"Have ya seen ma hero suit?" He turned away from you because, knowing himself, he'd let himself get lured in by your adorable features and then, at that rate, he'd never get to work on time.

He waited a few seconds then a whole minute for your answer before he was turning back, eyebrow cocked, only to realise you'd disappeared. He frowned, wondering if you had said something and he'd just missed it.

Just as he was about to run after you, he stepped through the doorway only to be met by you running back into the bedroom, his hero suit hanging off of your body like a blanket.

He felt his heart honestly burst.

The hood was too big for your tiny little head so it hung in front of your eyes, shielding them. The sleeves were ridiculously hanging off of your fingertips and the ends of the jacket brushed against your knees. It was more of a dress for you than a jacket.

"It was in the dryer!" You announced while your covered fingertips pushed the hood up so you could peer at him with those cute eyes of yours.

He gave up the internal fight in his head and scooped you up, your cute butt seated on his arms and your covered hands pressed against his chest. He looked up at you and pressed kiss after kiss onto your face.

"Yar absolutely irrisistable, doll, I coulda' just eaten ya up!"

Yagi Toshinori

another very beeg man!

even though he's on the skinnier side, he tends to get his clothes a bit baggier so that they kind of hang off of his frame

unrelated to these headcanons, i totally see toshinori as someone who feels really insecure by his body so he doens't like tighter clothes

that and just the fact that it'd be harder on his weary bones to move in tighter clothes? but also extra big clothes are just inherently more comfy

get's super flustered!

i think in a relationship, toshinori just gets flustered all the time no matter what? but also i think really domestic stuff like sharing clothes flusters him even more

he doesn't know why it makes his heart beat a million miles a minute but it does and he lets it! loves when you just stun him for a whole ass minute loool

Toshinori walks through your front door, the heavy weariness of his bones making him slump ever so slightly as he removed one shoe and the other.

Though he knew that teaching the next generation was the best thing he could do and that, truthfully, seeing all the kids look up to him and be excited to see him was the highlight of his day, he couldn't help but be a bit disgruntled at the end of the day.

It was just that he was tired, he reasoned with himself. Now, though, he didn't have to worry about it because he'd be able to curl up under a warm blanket with you!

Though the kids were the highlight of his day, the thing he looked forward to the most was the end of it, where he could come home to you, the brightest thing in his life.

As he thought that, he turned to trudge further inside of his home only to be stopped by a heavenly sight. You were curled up on the couch, the news murmuring quietly from the TV. All the lights were off but the TV cast an almost effervescent heavenly glow on your peaceful sleeping face.

Toshinori thought he was having a heart attack and his hand even clutched at the part of his suit over his chest! You were too cute!

Hanging loosely on your frame was one of his plain white t-shirts. The neckline was so big that it was slipping down your shoulder! And, somehow, you had moved around in your sleep enough that the shirt rid up your torso, revealing your softly rising and falling stomach.

In your arms was a piece of his merch: a stuffed plushie that looked exactly like All Might except he was stretched long enough to be a body pillow. You clutched at it like a lifeline, as if it was him!

He chuckled quietly to himself before slowly, gently, prying the plushie from your arms. Carefully, he replaced it, letting you rest your head on his chest with your arms draped haphazardly around his torso.

You shuffled a little bit as if disturbed in your sleep (which made Toshinori pause as if caught red-handed). Thankfully, your eyes didn't flutter. In fact, you just snuggled closer to him, your body almost curling to press against his.

Toshinori almost grinned warmly before letting his chin rest on top of your head.

Yes, this was the one part of his day he looked forward to the most.

Sakamata Kugo

he's canonically a sucker for cute shit so jot that down jot that down

he usually wears jogging pants and tight shirts around the house and then clothes a bit more on the fancier side outside

the man's hero outfit is a suit, my guy!

definitely the type to collect ties loool and he has like enough coloured ties to wear a different one a day

idk, i just like imagining kugo as the kind of guy who everyone's like 'damn, man's serious as hell' but then he actually has a kinda dopey nerdy personality

like! he canonically wants to play with children but the sight of him scares them so he stays away! if that ain't the cutest shit ever!

neway, i feel like he'd absolutely have a field day with you wearing his shit, ngl

he'd be super into that and he like absolutely fawns over you and just think you're the cutest most adorable thing

Kugo groaned a little, his hand patting at the bed beside him. When he felt it's warmth but noticed your body wasn't there to supply it, his eyes fluttered open, a frown marring his already 'frightening' appearance.

You were already up? On his day off? He wracked his brain to try and figure out whether it was your day off or not today too. He thought it was but, perhaps, he had remembered wrong?

His eyes immediately flickered to the clock. Almost lunch but not quite. So, it was your day off. When you worked, you usually got up in the morning but, from how warm the bed still was, there was no way you had gotten up hours ago.

Then, where were you? He sat up, stretching his arms above his head and letting the blankets pool at his hips. You must've been preparing for lunch then?

As he thought that, he heard the pitter-patter of you socked feet against the hardwood of his house. He managed to turn his body towards the bedroom door just as you burst through, a triumphant expression on your face.

At least, that's what he imagined it looking like, anyway, since he couldn't see it with his hero mask in the way. You had it on, with a matching white dress shirt.

The dress shirt was just as loose on you as the mask and it was unbuttoned, revealing the vast expanse of your naked skin underneath. The mask was like an entire blanket on you, it's ends pooling around you where it ended at his knees for him.

He couldn't help it. Kugo laughed, full-bellied and rumbling, at the sight of his beloved wrapped up in his clothes. Without even thinking about it, he reached for his phone, snapping picture after picture as you posed.

"What's this?" He asked as he finished, happily flicking through his newly acquired treasure.

When you answered that you were the greatest hero of all, Gang Orca, Kugo felt his heart melt even further. He got out of bed to pull you against him, his hand trailing from your shoulder, up your neck, to finally tip the mask off of your face.

You peeked up at him, mischevious eyes sparkling at it took everything in Kugo not to laugh. Instead, he just chuckled, the vibrations deep in his chest, before he ducked down and kissed you.

Sasaki Mirai

casual clothes? nah, this mans only got the fancy shit

the most casual he'll get is like a hoodie or a jacket but like underneath is a very delicately ironed dress shirt

even fancy tall men get cold amirite

honestly, you open his closet and they're all like suit pant combos with like a whole row of dress shirts that are either white or black, none in between

all his suits are neutral colored too with his tie being the only splash of color in the entire closet!

his ties range from really silly to really plain lmao like he'll have one that's a blue one with ducks all over it but then he'll have one that's all might themed but then he'll have one that's just plain pink

same with his socks! he wears mismatched socks okay, i don't make the rules and his socks are just as silly!

you don't even have to fvckn steal this man's clothes, he'll give it to you every opportunity he gets! like at times, he's just making excuses! anything to get his clothes on you

when the two of you are on a date? takes off his coat and gives it to you. after raw dogging you into the mattress? tucks you in with his dress shirt on you

When Mirai walked back into his bedroom, his eyes immediately flickered to you. You always seemed to attract his attention, no matter what you were doing or where you were. He was hooked on you like a magnet and, in reality, though it scared him, he found that he wouldn't have it any other way

This time, though, his attention was on you because it looked like you were just waking up. Your hair was still mussed like you'd been rolling around and his dress shirt was hanging off of you, slipping off of your shoulder, pooling at your waist, its sleeves covering your hands.

"Good morning, darling." He muttered to you softly before letting a small smile crack through when you subconsciously leaned your cheek towards him.

He gave you a small kiss against your soft cheek before cupping your head and pressing a more firm one against your temple.

At times like this, he wished he could tuck himself back into bed with you and press your body, still warm from sleep, against him. Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case.

He couldn't, not when he was needed at the agency.

Mirai ran his fingers absentmindedly through your hair as he had an internal fight with himself whether to leave you or stay. As he did, he felt you shiver and, quickly, his eyes zeroed in on you.

"Are you cold, darling?" He muttered to you again but, this time, he didn't even wait for you to respond before he was removing his suit jacket and draping it over you.

At first, you just shivered again before, slowly, almost sleepily, you slipped your hands through the sleeves and pressed the jacket closer against you.

Mirai would've screamed if he could but, instead, he just pressed another longer kiss against your temple. Mayhaps he could be a few hours late to work

Todoroki Shouto

emotionally stunted man who doesn't understand why his heart does the pitter-patter when he sees you in his clothes

i feel like he's not particularly fashion savy? like you'll see him in a plain white shirt and jeans or some really really casual stuff

but then you check the tags of the clothes and they're like actually super expensive brands? that plain white shirt he was wearing was from gucci? what the hell

if you borrow his clothes, the next time you see him, he's purchased like another shirt just for you becos, in his head, he thinks 'ah they don't have enough clothes that's why they have to borrow mine'

you have to explain it to him lmaooo! sucks for you cus that's a kinda awkward convo to have

"It's a sweater. For you. Since I saw you wearing mine around the house." Shouto gestures it again towards you and you take a moment to just take the whole situation in.

The sweater he was talking about was a Ralph Lauren sweater worth hundreds of dollars! How the hell did he get another one and in such short notice?

Your eyes flicker from the sweater to his face and then back down at the sweater. Then, slowly, you apologised to him, saying you didn't realise that he didn't want you to wear his sweater.

A contemplative expression crosses Shouto's face before, slowly, he shook his head "It wasn't that I didn't like it. I loved it a lot, actually. You looked very very cute."

You couldn't help but feel a little bit flustered by the straightforward way Shouto answered you but, before you could ask, he continued "But I figured the reason you wore the sweater was because you ran out of sweaters."

You took another second to take in this new development. Before you could stop yourself, you laughed and then shook your head, explaining that you didn't want the sweater just because it was a sweater but because he had worn it the day before. It was because it was his, because it smelled like him, that you took an interest in it.

It was Shouto's turn to take a second and you almost laughed again at the fact that he looked like a short-circuiting robot. Gently, you moved to take the sweater, asking if he still wanted to give you that one.

He dropped the sweater, letting it fall to the floor like it wasn't approximately $200 before hugging you, engulfing you in thick arms and firm torso "No."

You laughed as he nuzzled his face into the top of your head "I like it when you wear my clothes now."

Bakugo Katsuki

i forreal thought that bakugo's parents being like fashion designers and stuff was a fandom joke but it's canon??

neway now that i know that, fashion was engrained in his brain since he was a baby and you can pry that out of my cold dead hands

he was always the best-dressed kid in the block! his mother would never let him get outta the house looking anything less!

so he just kinda adopted that and now he keeps up with fashion trends and dresses his best when he can

he's also the type to make fun of you for dressing in his clothes like 'what, you too broke to afford your own designer brands, ya fvcking brat'

but inside, you know he's absolutely whipped to hell and back! wouldn't let it be any other way!

Usually, when Katsuki came home, he was greeted with you throwing the front door wide open for him and for you to have a great big wide grin as if he'd been gone for years and not just measly hours.

However, this time around, there was no throwing the door open and there was no you. Katsuki stood there dumbfounded for a second before grumbling and shifting all of his things so he could pat his pockets for the dumb fucking front door keys.

Katsuki then opened the door with one hand, his other arm balancing the takeaway he brought home as well as his explosion gauntlets and a bouquet of flowers and his work bag.

When he finally managed to pry the door open, he threw everything but the bouquet and the food to the ground, grumbling all the while as if he'd had just about the worst day in the world.

After finally taking off his shoes and dropping off the takeaway in the kitchen, he ventured further into the house, armed with a bouquet of your favourite flowers, only to spot you at the sofa, your body curled into a ball and tears falling from your eyes.

Katsuki immediately panicked " 't fuck's wrong with ya?"

You looked up at him and, when you jumped, more tears dripped right out of your glossy eyes

" 'suki!" You whined out and, with the tissues in your hand, you wiped your snotty nose, your free hand gesturing to the TV blearily lighting your face.

Slowly, Katsuki realised you were crying about a show and sighed, placing the flowers down on the coffee table before he seated himself next to you. Almost immediately, you latched onto him, arms wrapping around his muscled torso.

"Whattam I gunna do with ya, huh." He muttered against the crown of your head, his hand running up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you.

As he did that though, his hand slowed before he peered behind you. Then, a bark of laughter escaped his lips "You brat!"

"Why're ya wearin' my hoodie?" He took you by the shoulders to pull you away and look at you directly.

The hoodie was extremely big on you, with its ends pooling at your waist and its sleeves bunching badly at your wrists. It was so cute that it made Katsuki's heart beat wildly like explosions in his chest, his ears and cheeks and neck immediately heating up. But, alas, he couldn't let you know that, could he?

You cried even more, your expression adorably pitiful as you whined at him in complaint about how mean he was and how he didn't care about you and how you'd find a better partner than him. Your tiny little fists beat against his chest in retaliation and all Katsuki could do was bark out another laugh.

He shook his head, pulling you against him again and trapping your arms in between your torso and his "Just make sure not'ta get snot on it, ya brat."

[forthehpfanboys]

could you do some james potter x remus lupin's brother male reader head cannons?

Yes. The. Hell. I. Can. Oh, mentions of railing, but nothing too detailed. I have no idea how to do these, can anyone tell?

§×§×§ §×§×§ §×§×§

Keeping it a secret for a good while because Remus is an over reactor. He likes to keep you safe, whether your older or younger than him.

This means: late night kisses with James, hiding in the tunnels, stealing the Map so no one can hunt you two down, being his potions partner and sitting a tad too close but it's ok because you guys are adorable.

He will take your homework answers.

Oh you best believe he's gonna ask you to do the animagus process with him. And you better believe your form compliments his somehow. Whether it's a preyxpredator kind of deal or a stag&stag kind of deal. Your choice!

But oh my god, the tension when Remus finds out. Probably found out either because Peter said something, he saw you two sneak out holding hands, or walked in on you two exchanging spit.

Either way, Remus is fuming and James is pissing himself.

Remus just looking between you and James and he's like "James, can I speak with you in the other room." and is grabbing him by the ear and tugging him away.

James didn't have an option.

Remus literally chewed his ear off for like a half an hour about taking care of you. Like he kinda acts like a dad finding out his daughter is dating some bad boy in muggle movies.

You only know because Sirius insisted on hearing his boyfriend chew out his friend, so you both sat behind the door and listened in.

"Am I clear?" "Yes, sir." "Don't call me that. Now go hold his hand and treat my brother like the king he is." "Yes, sir-Remus."

Anyway. I hope your ready for physically being dragged into pranks against your will.

James saying it was his idea, if you two get caught, and taking the punishment for you.

Steal. His. Quidditch. Jersey. Take it. And fucking OWN THAT SHIT. ROCK IT KING.

He will also make sure you can't walk the next day, so be careful when you wear it-

Oh my god, sneaking out to the Quidditch pitch after curfew and just laying in the grass all snuggled up and gazing at the stars.

And then not hearing Remus storming over to drag you back because he knows James is kinda a fuck boy and will most likely rail you right there.

Like he'd clear his throat and James would scream and turn around and be like "NO IT'S JUST A CUTE DATE I PROMISE-"

James is just flat out scared of Remus when it comes to your relationship and Sirius never let's him live it down.

But Remus knows that the seeker wouldn't hurt a pretty hair on your head.

But if he leaves like a hicky on your neck and Remus sees, Potter's dead, just being honest.

You argue with your bro about how ridiculous he's being-

"But Sirius leaves marks all you and I don't complain." "So? He isn't James." ".... Rem, he's worse."

Sirius got your back and agreeing with you.

So, your brother promises to back off a bit and tries not to intervene too often because, you're right. It isn't fair for him to butt in on your relationship when you don't do it to him.

Things go smoothly from there.

At the beginning of the promise tho, he most definitely forgot about his promise and tried to separate you and James into two different rooms when you were getting a bit too comfy *winkwink*

But eventually, he did relax.

And James basically made your relationship known from the start, if your ok with that. He wasn't ashamed of you, didn't care what others thought and just fuckin' adored you.

Like he had friends who'd stand up for him no matter what. Go ahead. Say something stupid, stupid.

REMUS AND SIRIUS GIVING YOU ADVICE

[duckymcdoorknob]

Ok this may be offensive to some but it has to be said.

CW BELOW THE CUT: Mentions if p*rn, mentions of slurs, mentions of threats of vi*lence, mentions of gr**ming, mentions of b*llying.

Dear Governor DeSantis,

Fuck you.

Do you really think your little bill will work?

Are you truly that dense?

Welcome to the age of IPad kids and Mass Media. How many elementary schoolers do you know with IPads? Plenty im presuming. And how many of those kids have TikTok or Instagram or any other social media account?

Do you think that kids won’t learn about the LGBTQ+ community from there?

Sheltering a child does nothing but delay their exposure to the community.

Do you really think that kids don’t have an impact on each other?

I’ll say it again to get it through your brain.

Sheltering a child does nothing but delay their exposure to the community.

Peer influence is the most beneficial, but also most harmful, way for an adolescent to learn.

Studies have shown that adolescents are most influenced by the ones around them, especially in close proximity to their age.

That being said, how many children are going to listen to you?

Do you think that they’ll just magically be sheltered from the LGBTQ+ community until you think they’re old enough?

Since you assure that stopping the topic in school will ensure that kids are safe and sheltered…

I was six years old when I watched my first p*rno in the basement of my family home. Do you know who showed me it? My best friend, who was in third grade at the time.

I was seven years old when I made my first threat of vi*lence against a peer. I told him to shut his mouth before I shut it for him. Now, Mr. Governor, my parents are absolute saints and would never hurt a fly. They kept me from violent tv shows and only let me watch certain channels with safe programming. So, sir, where do you think I learned that threat from? The boys in my second grade class.

I was eight years old when I learned about the R slur and the N word. Now, my third grade history class didn’t teach me about it, my friends did. They whispered it in my ear and giggled as if it was some sort of contraband they were spreading.

I was asked to trade n*des at age twelve. Now, I didn’t know what these were, but I knew they were unsafe. I didn’t learn about them in an online safety class. No, I learned from my classmate, who had already had advantage taken of her through them.

I was gr**med on this app at age thirteen. A role play blog constantly messaged me and asked me what I looked like, so I sent them a fake photograph. They told me go pretty I looked and how they would love for me to meet them. Block and delete after that of course, but imagine if it was someone more naive…?

I was bullied relentlessly from age thirteen to fifteen. One person decided that they didn’t like me, so the rest of my classmates shouldn’t too. They made group chats for entire classes, where they would ridicule me for the smallest things. It didn’t stop until I was in high school.

I was sexually harassed by one of my peers at age fifteen. He made a comment about my butt, claiming that I “had a fat ass.” And that “it’s a shame i’m so fat though.”

I was offered a drink at age sixteen. Not by my parents, but from a peer, whom said I would be “such a fucking funny drunk.”

If you want to shelter kids from the “atrocity” of human sexuality and gender identities, shelter us from the shit that actually matters too.

I don’t care if kids learn about drag queens or gay families.

But God damn it, don’t let them be exposed to the shit I was.

If you’re going to enforce safety, give us the safety we truly deserve, not the safety you old farts think we need.

Learning about gay people is not unsafe.

Being exploited for another person’s sexual gain is unsafe.

Being offered gateway drugs is unsafe.

Being told slurs and their meanings is unsafe.

Being bullied to the point of hopelessness is unsafe

Being threatened by a classmate is unsafe.

Being exposed to the harmful world of p*rnogr*phy is unsafe.

The common thread in all of these?

None of these were exposed to us by our school systems, parents, or home lives.

They were brought upon us by our schoolmates…

Our teammates…

Our cast mates…

Our staff mates…

So, Mister Governor, sir.

What’s your next move?

[sweet-dreamins]

i’m sorry, i missed you (s+f)

○ pairing: kei tsukishima x fem! reader, soft brat tamer kei x bratty reader (who regrets being bratty)

○ word count: 2.8k

○ summary: after a day of being bratty, tsukki finally puts you in your place

○ content: 18+, d/s dynamics, spanking, use of “Sir” as title, brat taming, light angst, crying but no dacryphilia, traffic light safe word system, fingering, unprotected sex (pls wear a condom lskdjk), a bit size kink, creampie, aftercare, happy end :)

○ a/n: this turned out way softer than i originally planned lol but soft tsukki is good tsukki 😌 hope you like it, feedback is greatly appreciated!!

Huffing, you cross your arms and pout, not meeting his gaze. Tsukki looks down at you with a light smirk, amused by your antics. You had been snippy with him since this morning, and at first, he brushed it off, mistakenly assuming you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. However, as the day went on, your remarks only grew more pointed and intentionally provocative.

“I can do this by myself, leave me alone!”

“Ugh, whatever, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Be quiet, Tsukki, you’re so annoying!”

He was letting you get in as many jabs as possible, waiting to see if you would show any sign of remorse and apologize.

You did not.

He knew that you were just acting out because you wanted attention. Plain and simple. He had been pretty busy this week with volleyball practice and his job at the museum. But this was getting ridiculous. You needed to be put in your place. You also needed a little help in getting the truth out.

“It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” You taunt him, mirroring his smirk. He hadn’t said or done anything to correct your behavior all day, so you figured you were going to get away with being bad. You thought if he was going to punish you it would’ve been hours ago after the tenth or fifteenth rude comment came out of your mouth. Before disappointment could settle in, he grabs your face, thumb and index finger digging into your cheeks, tilting your face up to meet his stare.

“You want to repeat that, little girl?”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing underneath your skin and in between your thighs. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering you had already dug yourself six feet deep. His smirk grows at your quiet submission before throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp of surprise and he slaps your ass in response. You pout at the floor as he carries you to the bedroom, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

The world flips as he throws you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing. You bounce on the softness, your skirt flipping up. He can perfectly see the little wet spot on the center of your pink panties. His smile oozes self-satisfaction as he coos,

“Aww, how cute you’re already wet?”

You look down at your skirt and move to fix it, but he grabs both of your wrists with one hand. He flips your skirt all the way up and cups your clothed pussy. You try not to wiggle against his fingers, knowing that would land you in even more trouble.

“Don’t hide what is mine, understand?”

You swallow thickly and nod, your mouth going dry at the fierceness in his honey brown eyes. He slaps your inner thigh, eliciting a gasp from you. You fight the urge to glare at him, just pouting instead.

“No, you don’t get to be quiet now while you were running your mouth all day.” He looks at you expectantly for your proper reply.

“I understand, sir.” He gives you a small smile of praise, internally surprised at your wise choice.

He leans in closer and gives your cheek a few patronizing pats, “That’s more like it. Besides, I still haven’t decided if I’ll let you cum tonight.”

He lets go of your wrists and sits down next to you. You already know what you have to do. You quietly crawl over to him and lay yourself on his lap. You grab fistfuls of the sheets beneath you in anticipation. He interlocks his fingers and stretches them before rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re going to count every single spank and say thank you.”

“Yes, sir.”

One. Five. Nine. With every spank, you can feel yourself getting wetter. You want nothing more than for his hands to wander lower and sink into your pussy. As you count out loud, you run through everything you said to him today. Technically, you got his attention...but you could’ve gone about it in a much nicer way.

You know that you can be a lot to handle sometimes. On the one day this week you spent together, you were nasty to him. He was probably looking forward to spending the day with you, and all you gave him was attitude. You could’ve just told him you had missed him instead of being mean. What if you had said something that actually hurt him? Who’s saying that you hadn’t already gone too far? Maybe you should’ve just been good for him today.

“Twenty! Th-hank you si-ir.” You choke out the final number, trying to catch your breath. He gently massages reassuring circles on your stinging skin. He opens his mouth to ask you what your color is but you interrupt him with a sniffling,

“Ts-suki?”

He knows not to reprimand you for using the wrong name, the weepy tone in your voice giving away your headspace. He softly asks,

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Yellow,” your voice warbly and pitiful.

Kei easily scoops you up into a sitting position so you’re straddling his lap. Now he can see your glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until you went to wipe your face. Your bottom lip wobbles slightly as you try to hold back even more tears. Regret is swirling in your head, while your butt is burning, and your pussy is dripping. Your brain is struggling to comprehend this combination of sensations, turning your thoughts into a tangled mess.

“I’m so-orry I was so me-ean to you today,” you hiccup, rubbing at your tears with balled-up fists but they just don’t seem to stop coming.

“I’ve just been mi-issing you a lot, fuck, I missed y-you so much and I should’ve just to-old you that.” You choke these words out through gasping breaths. You want to let him know everything inside your head, but your body is not cooperating. He pulls down his sleeve, raising it to wipe away your tears.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” You stop trying to force words out of your mouth and slowly inhale, hoping it’ll calm your body. In and out, in and out, slow and soothing breaths, tears falling less and less frequently. Kei reaches for his water bottle and brings it to your mouth, controlling the pace of your drinking, knowing you might end up chugging it. He sets it down once you’ve had enough water and rubs your back. By now your breathing has evened out and new tears have finally stopped falling.

Kei presses a kiss to your forehead and mumbles against it,

“You learned your lesson, huh?”

You nod and hum a wobbly affirmation.

You feel him smile against your skin before he pulls away, looking into your eyes while holding your face with his hands.

“Okay. You gonna be good for me now?”

A beat of silence passes.

“I’m gonna try.”

He throws his head back in laughter and you giggle with him. Hooking his arms under you, he turns around and lays you down on the bed. He hovers above you and brushes the hair out of your face.

“What’s your color?”

After your punishment and crying session, you feel so much lighter, no longer weighed down by your rambling brain.

“Green.” You sniffle and give him a soft smile. He looks over your facial expression, making sure that you’re not lying to him. Once he’s satisfied, he drops to his forearms, caging you in, and kisses you.

Your heart soars as he kisses you desperately. It’s clear to you now that he missed you just as much, if not more. You happily let him take control of the kiss, relaxing into his hold. While he distracts you with his lips, he reaches down between the two of you and starts rubbing at your clit. You break the kiss with a small gasp, arching your back into him, wanting more. Kei grins at your reaction and reaches farther, spreading your lips and gathering slick with his fingers.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaking, is this all because of me?”

You look up at him, and he swears he can see tiny hearts in your eyes where pupils should be.

“Yes, sir, all for you, only for you.” He kisses the tip of your nose as he slips two fingers into your pussy. Slowly thrusting in and out while rubbing your clit with his thumb. As the pleasure builds, you beg him not to stop, worried that your orgasm will be ripped away from you tonight.

But Kei isn’t a monster.

“Shh don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He continues thrusting and scissoring his fingers, stretching you out on his lithe fingers, preparing you for his cock. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, he sucks at the skin. He pulls away to admire you underneath him, marked up and already getting dumber by the second.

His original plan was to edge you for most of the night and ruin your orgasm anyway, but that depended on your post-spanking state. You were obviously regretful of your behavior and already slipping into that cloudy headspace. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you tonight, especially after you had cried your eyes out, so he’s determined to give you at least one good orgasm.

Instead of focusing on reaching your climax, you let yourself focus on how good he’s making you feel. Goosebumps rise all over your body and your head feels even dizzier than before. You let yourself melt into him.

Kei notices just how much you’ve relaxed and feels a pull at his heart. You trust him so much, trusting him to take care of you, your body, and your pleasure. He especially knows how hard vulnerability can be, and yet here you are. Happily giving yourself to him as if it’s second nature to you.

He kisses you again, this time more desperately, trying to get as much of you as possible. He licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in. His tongue traces over yours gently before sucking on your bottom lip as you whine in response. When he breaks away, a thin string of spit connects the two of you briefly. He reaches behind his neck, swiftly pulling his shirt off and then tugging off his pants.

You keep your eyes glued to his body as you frantically pull off your shirt and bra. How was he so pretty? All you want to feel is his skin against yours. As your gaze travels up his body, the two of you lock eyes to laugh at your frenzied pace.

He settles above you again, kissing you, placing his hands at your sides while gently tracing your skin with his thumbs. He reaches over to grab a condom, but you stop him. With wide eyes you say,

“I want to feel you cum inside, please?”

He lets out a groan and kisses you as an answer. He strokes his cock, smearing pre-cum down the length. Grinding against your pussy, he coats himself in your slick, the head of his cock bumping against your clit. He smirks down at you as little moans spill from your mouth.

All for him.

He lines himself up and looks at you, making sure that you’re ready to take him. You nod desperately, wanting to be completely stuffed. He slowly pushes into you as your mouth drops open. He stills once he’s fully inside, letting both of you get used to the feeling, already panting. Your warm walls hugging him so, so tight, and his cock making you feel so, so full. You stutter out,

“So full! Ah, ‘m so full. Your cock is so big, ‘su-sir!”

He grins at your praise and near slip up.

“Mhm? But you always take me so well, pretty baby.” He lightly presses down below your belly button, feeling and faintly seeing the outline of his cock inside of you. You cry out in pleasure, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. He isn’t even moving and your pussy won’t stop clenching around him. He gives a shallow thrust, pulling a whine from you.

He keeps his pace slow, building in speed and force. Until he is repeatedly slamming into you, nearly pulling all the way out and then pushing deep inside of you, your cries getting louder and louder. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your vision blurring a bit. Kei wraps his arm around your middle as you arch off the bed, deepening the kiss.

You whine against his lips,

“I-I’m getting close, so close, so close! I’m so close!”

“I know baby, let go for me.”

He reaches down with his other hand, still holding you close, to rub frenzied circles into your clit. You shut your eyes tight and your mouth drops open, only whines coming from the back of your throat. Soothing tingles of pleasure shoot throughout your body, your orgasm finally washing over you. You feel as if you’re floating, warmth taking over your body, inside and out. You can barely string together a coherent thought, but then you remember he hasn’t cum yet.

Your pussy still riding out your orgasm, clenches over and over around his cock. Kei nearly growls out,

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

All that’s bouncing around in your fuzzy mind is how badly you want Kei’s cum inside of you. You want it so, so bad, to be filled up with it, for him to paint your insides white, to feel his liquid heat. Your jumbled thoughts fall out of your mouth as you babble,

“Sir, please! Please, please, please, cum inside of me! I want y-you to fill me up, please fill me up with your cum!”

Your broken pleading pushes him over the edge as he shoots his cum inside you, giving one last thrust to nestle himself as deep as possible. You can hear him breathing hard next to your ear, shaky with scattered moans. You can feel his cum filling your pussy, leaking out onto your thighs, nearly throwing you into a second orgasm.

Kei has a brief internal debate if he should pull out or not. If he does, clean up might take a little longer….but then he’ll get to see his cum ooze out of you. He gently pulls out of you, spreading your thighs apart so he can get a proper look. Creamy white oozing out of silky pink walls, your chest heaving and eyes glassy.

Absolutely perfect.

Bonus:

After grabbing a warm towel and boxers, Kei lays down next to you, pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You tangle your legs together and nuzzle into him, pressing a kiss over his heart. He’s glad that you can’t see the ridiculous blush on his face from your simple gesture.

You let out a sigh of contentment, knowing you’re safe in his strong arms.

“I love you, Kei.”

He kisses your temple and rests his chin on top of your head.

“I love you, too. You did wonderfully tonight. ”

A comfortable silence drapes itself around the two of you, like a warm blanket. But of course, Kei being Kei says a little too smugly for your liking,

“I missed you too, you know….I just didn’t need to act out and be a total brat over it.”

“Shut up,” you while with a bashful smile on your face, “I already said I was sorry.” You mumble into his chest with a pout, to which he proudly chuckles.

“I know, I know.”

“Hey, Tsukki?” He hums in response.

“Can we go take a shower now? I’m still kinda...sticky.”

“Fine, but you were the one who was practically begging me to cum inside you, to fill that little pussy up.”

Heat rushes to your face, the post-orgasm clarity arriving in full form, the obscenity of your pleading hitting you like a ton of bricks. You squeal in embarrassment, scolding him, and lightly slap his chest. He laughs and says,

“Yes, we can go take a shower now.”

You let out a rather pathetic cheer, but make no effort to get up.

“....Kei...can you carry me?”

He sighs with such weight, you’d think Zeus had just condemned him.

“If I must.”

He scoops his arms underneath you, picking you up bridal style. You call his name again and he looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“Can we take a bath instead?”

“Fine, I guess.” Rolling his eyes, once again acting exasperated.

He sets you down on the counter as he grabs towels and turns on the water.

“Oh, and can we do a bath bomb?”

He leans down to look at you, eyebrows quirked up as if to say ‘Really?’. You give him a big smile and the best puppy dog eyes you can muster.

“Pleeease?”

He gets even closer until your noses are touching, still giving you that smirk and golden eyes of mirth. You feel your cheeks heat at his closeness. He gives you a quick kiss, whispering against your lips,

“You’re lucky you’re cute, brat.”

[goji-pilled]

welcome to part 7, where nothing from epidsode 7 is mentioned!!! now witb added romance subplot, crushed crushes, and angy blueberry!!! welcome to part 7 of "Homura Makes a New Friend!"

also this may have been longer than usual, nd has some fluff in th start. only a tiny bit tho.

---

"I've gotta say, it's nice to see you making more friends as you grow up Lili. To think, it almost feels as though it was yesterday when you first came to Mitakihara."

Standing at the front door was a tall man with glasses and an apron wrapped around his body. In his arms was a little tyke that made grabby hands at the blonde standing next to Kyouko, babling about "Sisa" in the baby language kids have before they get smart.

She did not at all, in the slightest, shift her arms to open them up for a little bundle of life before crossing her arms. Don't be ridiculous.

"Now, I believe we should introduce ourselves. My name is Kaname Tomohisa, and this is little Tatsuya. Say hi Tat-kun!" The father turned himself to have the child face Kyouko, a spark lighting up in the kids eyes as he saw the redhead and heard his papa's words. Tat-kun waved a chubby fist and said "hi!" before turning back to Blondie; Kyouko waved back, not noticing Tomohisa's stare.

Be strong Kyouko. Be strong.

"Now, I know that Lili would go on an impassioned speech on who you are, but I'd like to hear from the girl herself." The man said that so casually, almost as if Blondie had that problem with every person she called a friend. Based on what happened earlier today and how said girl was blushing, probably happened often.

"Name's Sakura Kyouko sir. Just met your daughter one day and now I'm here, nothing special." Minus the whole I almost killed her and her friend deal, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "She said she wanted to know each other better, make it a sleepover one day. Figured why not? Don't really have anything else to do."

Papa Kaname must've been fine with that as soon Kyouko found herself in a very clean and modern house that screamed upper-middle class. It was a lot cozier than what she's every had before, when she's been on her own for so long. It'd be nice to not hafta sneak into an empty hotel room or a dingy apartment in butt-fuck nowhere.

Just as she was appreciating the nice white and off-grey minimalist living room Kyouko felt a hand grab her own. Turning her head she saw Blondie give her a cold look before sending a smile towards her old man.

"We'll be upstairs Tomohisa-san, we'll come back down whenever dinner is ready - do you need any help tonight?" Blondie had not so subtly pushed the shorter redhead towards the stairs but waited at the threshold of the kitchen. Papa Kaname looked to be cutting up some apple slices for Tat-kun while a pot simmered on a stove.

"Don't worry Lili, I have things taken care of here. Go on to your room, get to know your new friend and gossip over any handsome boys or cute girls you saw today." That teasing tone laced in the soft smile sent to his daughter, it reminded Kyouko of the good memories she had...

"Dad!"

Blushing a cute pink that went well with the bee hairdo, Blondie started to push her up the stairs and down the hall to an end room. Once at the door the presumed owner swung the door inward and tossed themselves in, shutting the door with a soft click.

The room wasn't much to look at, standard tween girl's bedroom with comfy bed and pillows that were dressed in blue sheets. The window next to the bed held little knick-knacks and photos that belonged to Blondie, smiling faces of blue, yellow, and green facing the head of the bed. On the desk looked like some wind-up musical box that was left open upside down, the miniature dancer twirling on a stage with a gaudy dress.

Wasn't that much more than her old bedroom, but Kyouko didn't have complaints.

Taking a seat at the desk, mindful of the open notebook filled with blue doodles, Kyouko turned to face the blonde who sat on the cushy bed.

"...So, first thing's first, ya got a name or are people just calling ya random shit?" It was something that bugged Kyouko when she heard three different people who were (arguably) suppossed to be the kid's friends all call her different things.

"Oh, uh, yes I do have a name. It's just that I don't like my name anymore, so I let people call me whatever they want. Sometimes I give people names to call me, but there are only two people who actually know what my name is." The kid had hunched in on herself, pulling out the blue ribbon out from her hair and letting the mess of black and yellow flow freely down her face. Some got in her mouth and she let out a sputter to spit it out.

"Hmph, alright kid, I'll humour ya. Dunno how or why somebody would just give up their name, but I ain't one to judge. Live and let live I guess..."

Kyouko had started to lean back in the chair she sat in, balancing on two legs before twirling the entire seat to lean on the desk. She scrutinized the blonde before her, a sudden memory of Mami waking up in the morning when she crashed one night coming to mind. She shoved that memory into a barrel filled with concrete and tossed into the ocean of her subconscious.

"The next thing, Lilith," the kid perked up at the name, combing golden locks away from her face, "what was up with all that nonsense with short, dark, and edge back there? Having trouble in paradise or something?" It was an honest question, one she hoped wasn't actually accurate. She caught the tail-end of their spat after having to mask her prescence and dull her sense to hide from them, and then heard the slap all the way up top.

She stabbed Super Strong Girl and then nabbed Blondie - er, Lilith - before ending up here when her kidnappe said she wanted to talk.

Lilith stopped combing her hair back, strands tangled in between her fingers as her body went rigid. The blush didn't fade from her face yet, it actually seemed to grow deeper.

"It-it wasn't like that! Akemi-san is cool and all, and yeah sometimes I have these drea-thoughts! Thoights of her sometimes, but that doesn't mean anything! It'd be nice if she saw me as a friend but, but it's fine if she's not!" Oh boy, this girl was down bad.

"And our fight was- well..." Her eyes harden, shoulders hunched up as a finger twirled some hair. "It was about her, and my friends, and the whole thing about Magical Girls..."

"Ah, trying to keep up that stupid ideal, huh? Just like Tomoe and that Sayaka chick?" A smirk played against her lips, the Crimson Lancer crossing her arms as a smug aura enveloped her.

"Actually, it's about how they - and I guess you too - are all fighting for no reason. Witches, I mean! Fighting Witches for no reason!" Huh? The fuck did she mean by that?

There must've been something funky on Kyouko's face, 'cause Lilith started going on about how they were trapped in a cycle of endless fighting. A trap where the only escape was death, stuck in an endless battle, on a meangiless battlefield. Then she went on about how she had to live with the fact that three people she cares about are - not if, will! - doomed to die and she can't do anything about.

Then she started talking about the rookie.

"I can guess what senpai, er Tomoe?" She looked at Kyouko, an unasked question in her eyes; Kyouko waved it off. "Senpai could've wished to survive or to live, but I know what Sayaka-san wished for. Her heart is always in the right place, but it was as you said earlier, she wished to help someone else.

"A childhood friend of hers, Kamijou Kyousuke-" Damn girl, what did he do to you?! "was in an accident that caused him to lose feeling in his hands. Like, he lost his arms even though they were still attached to him. Sayaka had gone to a show where she saw him play the violin when they were young, and she fell in love with the music. But over the years she ended up thinking that she fell in love with him."

Wow, this was seriously winding her up. Lilith actually stood up and started pacing around the room, following a groove indented in the floor.

"So Sayaka-san ends up visiting him nearly every day to comfort him and help him move on, but this stupid country and its stupid- Mmm. He can't see past anything but his broken arms and doesn't even realize what he has right there in front of him! His stupid self-worth issues are hurting Sayaka-chan and she doesn't deserve that!

"I know this country has stupid ideals on self-worth and work and being not-broken, but Sayaka-chan keeps throwing herself at this boy that can't even open his eyes to see his friend trying to help him! Her kindness and love are burning her and Sayaka-chan just wants someone to love her, to be with her, like everyone else. She wants something she doesn't have but she can't see that she can have that! She can-is! Loved, but she only ever looks at that stupid boy and not-"

Lilith had been pacing around, breathe growing sharper and shallower, as her eyes wore a glistening coat. She eventually fell back on her bed and slumped herself into a ball, tears falling as she tries to compose herself.

Kyouko thought back to that journal behind, the blue doodles and that little rant she witnessed. The redhead planted the chair bavk down and stood up, taking a few steps. She sat herself next to Lilith's form and placed a hand on the girl's arm, a warmth eminating out from the palm. She should've seen the koala hug coming.

They stayed like that for a moment, Kyouko rubbing circles on Lilith's back as the lovestruck kid tried to reign her tears back.

"I-i'm sor-ry. I shou-shouldn't be rambli-ing about this. B-B-But she's my b-best friend, and sh-she helped me fit in, when I-I-I firsted moved here and-"

"Shhh... It's okay kiddo. Just let it out. It's been a freaky couple of weeks, huh?"

"Mhmm!"

"... Ya know, I get where your comin' from, a bit." Kyouko briefly thought to herself, if she was really gonna go through with this, air out her dirty laundry to a randy. Then her mind said fuck it and her conscious rose from the grave to smack her mind for even thinking of sayin' "no".

"Sayaka was- is a kinda rock for you, right? Someone you looked up to and wanted to do right by?"

"Ye-ah..."

"So ya went with the flow, started out as friends and then ended up as besties? Figure that was the highest your relationship was gonna be? Then you look at 'em one day and just..."

A memory of Mama, Momo, and Mami at a kitchen table. Smiling. Laughing. Happy.

"...yeaah..."

"Yeah... but then thinga happen, and suddenly thinga are different. Too different between then and now, and the now was having a buncha shit thrown your way?"

Lilith nodded her head, buried in the crook of Kyouko's soggy neck.

"So ya latch onto anything and anyone that you can lash out at, and hope that'll help fix things. That it'll make the pain go away?"

A bridge during winter, Mami at one end and Kyouko at the other.

A sniffle and another nod.

"Yeah... I'm in the same boat too kid... found out Mami got a new recruit and... saw too much of me in yer friend. I'm sorry, if I made the gap too wide now."

"No... don't be... it's only right and fair of us to be angry, when the people we love hurt us. We just have to do better, and be better for them. For ourselves. For each other."

"Hmph... I can get behind that..."

The two girls stayed there, clutching eavh other as the world remained silent around them. The sunset colouring themselves in reds and oranges, of the colors of passion. Eventually Kyouko decided to break the silence.

"Hey, Lilith? How about I set things right?" The crybaby had finally stopped shedding tears and lifted her head off of Kyouko's shoulder; Welp, she needed to clean her hoodie anyway.

"I'll go set set things straight between me and yer friends, try and patch things up with Mami and Sayaka. Then you find your super friend and patch things up, and make sure she doesn't snap me in two fer makin' ya cry?" Lilith let out a giggle, muttering something about "Akemi-chan wouldn't do that" before a smile bloomed on her face.

"*sniff* Deal, Sakura-san."

"Please, Lilith, call me Kyouko."

...

...

That was how Sakura Kyouko, infamous drifter and street rat of Kazamino, ended up with temporary room and board at the Kaname's. She made sure to at least earn her stay by keeping up with chores and babysitting, when she wasn't out hunting at least.

Things were... actually really nice at the Kaname's pad. Sure the entire family was always a smack in the face with how close to home they all were, but Kyouko could handle it. They were also very accommodating when Tatsuya ended up screaming during a tantrum and sent the redhead into a spiral; Tat-kun, bless his heart, even promised not to scream around her anymore.

Things were nice, they were great actually. Then the night at the overpass happened.

...

...

"What are you doing here?"

Miki Sayaka was currently stanced in front of a gate that led to a manor of a mansion behind it. The Kamijou Estate, dark except for a scarce few lights in the windows.

"Was out on a stroll, been doin' some thinkin'. Came around here when I found out the name of the guy you wished on." Kyouko made sure to make herself look small and relaxed, get it in the rookie's head that she wasn't looking for a fight.

"So... that's the guy 'eh? Not my tastes, but then again I have high standards." She strolled up to stand next to Sayaka, the taller girl befuddled by the docile act. "Gotta ask though, didn't Tomoe ever tell about how selfless wishes end up goin' bad for us? Figured, with our history and all..."

Ooo she can feel those pearly whites grinding.

"You ever thought up of any better ideas to try and get him ta look at ya, or did you actually think you wanted to help him?"

"What!? Are you seriously still going on about that?! Yeah, Mami gave me the same warning, that a wish is better used on yourself. That sort of thinking isn't right to me, though, so I used it to help someone I cared about! I bet it was a lot more selfless than whatever you wished for?"

Jeeze this girl... No, stay calm Kyouko, stay calm. You promised Lilith.

"It may not be a law, but it does sorta feel like more than just some philosphy rookie. For every act of hope there will be an equal amount of despair that'll follow it; light bigets dark and that shit." Kyouko pulled a hand out from her pocket, an open box of Pokey held out. Sayaka merely scoffed at the offer before walking away.

"Ya didn't hafta keep comin' back to him. Ya coulda just left him to cool off before makin' that wish, so why didn't you?" The taller girl stopped midstep, arching her neck back to look at the redhead. "Jus' sayin'. If I were in your shoes, even if I was head over heels for someone, I wouldn't waste my time with trying to help someone who didn't want it."

Sayaka fully turned around now, a frown marring her face. That ring on her hand, was it always sparking like that?

"Just what the heck would you know about that?! How'd you even learn about-" Sayaka pointed her ringed finger at Kyouko, question dying on her lips as she muttered something under breathe. She clenched her hand into a fist, before opening it up to cup her Soul Gem between both hands. In a flash of light and water Sayaka shifted into her uniform.

"We're settling this, now! For everything you said and did that day!" God dammit, this girl... the hell does Lilith see in her?

Kyouko didn't say anything to the instigator. The Crimson Lancer merely shrugged her shoulders, she gave it a shot, and started walking down the estate path.

"Fine then rookie. Follow me, wouldn't want anyone to see you get yer ass kicked now would you?"

It wasn't long before the two combatants found themselves on an empty overpass, the freeway so far down below them that any drivers wouldn't be able to see the flashy stuff up above. Sayaka had already fell into a ready stance, cutlass held in a fierce grip as she stared at her prey with murder in her eyes. It'd be scary if Kyouko didn't already know that the rookie was still a bjt green. The redhead had pocketed away her snacks in her hoodie, hand grasping for her Soul Gem.

"Sayaka-san!" / "Sakura-san."

The hell? Glancing behind her were the owners of the two recognizable voices. Lilith was currently tugging back a very peeved Mami by the puffy sleeve, the rifle the Sharpshooter carried looking more intricate and detailed than the mock ones from their fight. Why the hell were they here? How the hell did they know where to look?

"Stay outta this Errika!" The fuck, aren't they supposed to be besties?!

Facing forwards again Kyouko saw a look of utter betrayal and hate being sent through her. She heard a cross between a gasp and a cry come from behind her; since when were Lilith and Sayaka not on speaking terms?!

"Sakura-san, I had hoped that after our prior engagment that you would leave things be. How unfortunate to know that you've sought out to harass my pupil once more." And Mami is still bitter 'bout that, this is just great.

"Believe it or not Tomoe-san, I didn't instifate this fight. Your student over there challenged me after I tried to have a diplomatic conversation!" What was the point? The damage had been done, but she at least could put the idea that she was telling a truth, if not the truth. It must've worked 'cause Mami seemed to at least stop approaching, even if there was still doubt in her eyes.

"It may be difficult to comprehend, Sakura Kyouko, however you're actions have left us little reason to believe you." Oh for fuck's sake! Sure enough standing behind Sayaka was a decked out Akemi Homura, teleporting next to the Knight when the rookie swung behind her.

There was a tense silence as the four left themselves in a standstill. Sayaka was still poised to attack, likely itching to swing at both Kyouko and Akemi. Mami had shifted her grip to be ready to fire at a moment's notice, potential targets and weak points charted out for her pea shooters and rifles. Akemi was stock still as she stood in full garb, wind blowing her hair back as she stared disinterestedly at the others; she'd probably be able to obliterate them all in the blink of an eye.

Kyouko was still in her civi clothes, and while she may still be more durable than the average human, she very much liked these clothes.

"... Fine then, I'll make the first move!"

And that's when it all happened.

Kyouko swung her hand out of her pocket, Soul Gem in hand. Sayaka launched a blade from her hilt before the Lancer finished speaking. Mami had lined up her shot and preemptively fired to disarm her ex-partner.

Kyouko's hand was cut clean off from the wrist by a blade, and her dismembered hand was shot off into the air.

Akemi gasped and the teleported as she saw the hand, the Crimson Soul Gem, fly off the bridge and into the freeway. Lilith screeched out a heartwreching "No!" before trying to fling herself off the edge to catch the gem.

Then Sakura Kyouko passed out, life fleeing out of her body, as she became nothing more than a corpse.

---

ain't i a stinkah? tune in to part eight, the part that is supposed to be this AU's version of episode 8. th epsiode known as "I'm Such a Fool". r u excited?! just three more or so after this nd th AU will be complete!

／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

if im excited for "episode" 8 they ask, as if you dont already know that its gonna fucking break me on every level imaginable-

also.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

For Good Measure

Request:  “ Oh my gosh I loved your "Appreciation" fic! Your writing style and set up was amazing. In a similar vein, can I request a Chris Motionless x Justin Morrow x Reader smut fic? I'm a *huge* masochist/sub and I've been looking for a BDSM/two Dom guys threesome fic with them FOREVER and can never find one ;-;” - @deepstarlightemo

Warnings: Horribly written, unedited pure smut (BDSM (light), choking, overstimulation, spanking, threesome, slut shaming, I honestly can’t believe I wrote this)

A/N: I hope this is something like what you were looking for! I made it an AU cause I wasn’t quite sure how to do it with them in their real roles. Also, thank you so much! 

_______________________________________

You may have had times where you’d been ashamed of your profession, tried to hide it from your family and friends by covering up and just saying you were a performer. That wasn’t entirely a lie. It just wasn’t very specific. Sure, you were a performer: a performer of sexual acts in front of a camera. A pornstar. 

When you started, you’d never imagined you’d have gotten where you are now. It started as a way to make money in college when you couldn’t find a job. It was just faceless cam-girl stuff. You covered any distinguishable marks on your skin with foundation so nobody would be able to figure out it was you. But slowly, you began to realize that this was something you actually liked and your shame faded away into power and confidence. 

And in times like now, there was no way you could be ashamed. You were just too damn excited. You were about to film a BDSM scene with two of your personal favorite performers in the industry, Chris Cerulli and Justin Morrow. This was a dream cum true (get it?). 

The cameras were rolling but you hardly noticed. You were so turned on already and nobody had even touched you. You were standing in five inch black heels, black sheer stockings with garters that attached to your black lace panties, if you could even call them that. In place of a bra, clamps connected by a chain were attached to each of your nipples. Your hands were tied above your head to a hook in the ceiling, leaving you stuck there in the center of the dimly lit room that had more than its fair share of sexy objects and furniture. 

“My, my, my. What do we have here?” A dark voice said from behind you. You couldn’t see him, but you knew it was Chris.

Equally as dark and serious, Justin answered, “Looks like a fucking whore to me.” The men walked up to you, Chris smacking you hard on the ass out of nowhere. You yelped. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” Chris got closer to your face, his eyes painted dark in contrast to the pale makeup on his face. 

You composed yourself, “Thank you, sir.” 

“That’s better.” He stood back up straighter. Although you’d scene them dozens of times in some of his films, all of his tattoos were absolutely mesmerizing. Most dom men in the BDSM community always wore all black but Chris always did his shirtless and you were pretty sure it was one of the reasons he turned you on so bad. Tattoos had always gotten you going. 

Justin was shirtless too in order to match with Chris’s signature. He didn’t have as many tattoos but he was more muscular than Chris, both men still ridiculously attractive. 

You hadn’t noticed that Justin stepped away until he returned, trading places with his counterpart to stand before you. Without saying anything, he reached his hand out to grip around your throat and held you in place while he inched his lips towards yours. You tried leaning in, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on you, but just as they were about to graze, he dropped his hand from your throat and yanked on the chain attached to your breasts, pulling your nippled hard. 

“AH! Fuck!” You whimpered out, twisting in your bindings. 

You hadn’t noticed the black wand in his hand until he flipped it in his hand and flipped the switch on it. The large vibrator began to buzz in his hand. Justin pointed the round tip towards you and began to run it down along your arms and across your sore breasts, making you shiver. Finally, he made his way down to you core where you needed it most. 

He pressed it hard against your lower lips and you squirmed to try and get it on your clit more. “Awww,” Chris cooed, “How pathetic.” He smacked your ass yet again, your body sliding up and your clit finally getting that stimulation it craved, if even for a second. 

“Please, sir…” You begged Justin, leaning forward to readjust yourself on the buzzing device in his hand. 

Justin followed your body with the device, “Please what?” 

Chris came up behind you, pressing his bare chest to your back and began massaging your breasts, pulling every now and again on the chain. He slipped your hair over one shoulder and began kissing along it gently in harsh contrast to the abuse he was laying into your overstimulated nipples. 

“Please, sir, please can you put it on my clit?” Your head lulled to the side to give Chris better access. 

Suddenly, Justin smacked the inside of your thigh, the sensitive skin stinging, “Spread your legs.” You did as he instructed and stepped out a little more, your ass pressing into Chris’s bulge behind you. 

Justin reached down and grabbed the front of your panties and pulled them up tight and hard against your slit, making you wince at the aggressive contact on your sensitive skin but loving every second of it. After a few seconds of that, he released his pulling but replaced the pressure with direct contact with your clit on the vibrator. 

You moaned loudly, finally allowing yourself to lean into the light vibrations. It wasn’t much but it was something. 

Behind you, Chris’s tongue ran up your neck and bit your ear before slapping your ass again. “Ah!” Your hips bucked against the vibrator and Justin turned it up a level, the buzzing more intense as you did. 

Your breathing began to get a little shaky and your legs were having a hard time holding your weight. “F-f-fuck. Please can I cum?” You asked, the knot in your stomach forming and getting tighter and tighter. 

“No cumming unless we say.” Chris growled, stepping away from you and coming around to the front. 

It was getting harder and harder to hold off your orgasm, “Please, sir, I’m so close.” 

Justin shook his head, “We didn’t say yes so you better not cum.” 

You were right there. You were so damn close. Tears began to spill over your eyes as it became almost painful, “I’m gonna cum!” You announced when you got too close to pull back. 

Justin pulled the toy away just milliseconds before you could fall over.

“Fuck!” You screamed, feeling your orgasm ripped away from you.  

 As he did, he reached up and removed the nipple clamps. You sighed at the relief but it was short lived as Justin’s hand came up to smack your tender breasts, red marks smattering across the skin. “Ow!” You cried with pleasure, juices dripping down your legs. 

He reached above your head and undid the knots around wrists, “Let’s get you out of this.” He muttered as he did so. 

Your arms fell, blood finally returning to your limbs as you stumbled slightly, your full weight returning to your heels. The relief wasn’t too long lived though. 

Chris grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanked your head over to face him, “Bend over that table, ass in the air.” He hissed at you, walking you over to the table and pushing your head down. With his knee, he spread your legs across and smacked your butt hard. His free hand dipped down between your folds, fingers slipping into you easily, “So fucking wet.” 

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs, leaving the garters and heels still on. 

“Here it is.” Justin said from somewhere above you and you saw his arm stretch out over you, handing Chris the vibrator they’d just used moments ago. 

Chris bit his lip with a smirk, the metal rings in it glistening between his teeth, before switching it on. He reached under your hips and hoisted your rear in the air and nuzzled the vibrator under you, tucking it between your folds until it was pressed hard against your bare clit. Chris flicked the small device on, sending shocks down your body. While you moaned and ground yourself into it your hands tried to grip onto the table you were lying on. 

“Oh shit.” You moaned out, breathy whimpers going straight to Chris and Justin’s cocks. 

When the men returned to you, both were completely stripped naked. Chris stood behind you, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds before slamming roughly into you, making you yelp loudly and reach for something to hold on to. 

Justin stood at the other end of the small table and grabbed your hair, pulling the top half of your body up. His large member waved in front of your face, “Open up, slut.” 

You readily obeyed, small moans escaping as you did from the mixture of Chris pounding into you and the vibrator still going strong on your clit. Justin used his grip on your hair to thrust you down on his cock, shallow at first but then further, almost down your throat. You gagged around him, eyes watering and makeup beginning to run down your cheeks. 

You were still close from the last time they’d edged you so it really didn’t take long at all to get close to that brink. Looking down at you, Justin could tell you were close. The way you  moaned around his cock and the way your eyes were closed tightly were dead giveaways, “You gonna cum?” He asked. 

You nodded and pulled off his cock, “Yes, oh my God. Please can I cum.” 

Justin forced his cock back down your throat. Chris gripped your hips and pressed you harder down into the vibrator, which was now on its highest setting. “Not yet.” 

You shook your head violently, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.” 

Chris’s hand came down hard on your ass which was scarlet red now, “Not without permission.”

 You were so desperate. You genuinely couldn’t hold back. “Please, I wanna be a good girl but I’m gonna-” 

“Cum.” Chris demanded and you completely fell apart around their cocks. Your pussy squeezed around him tightly, the vibrator still going crazy on your clit. 

Your body kept trying to come down but the vibrator wouldn’t allow it, the pleasure beginning to turn almost painful. You tried to squirm away from it but Chris held your hips down hard onto it. “Ahhhh fuck!” Your eyes screwed shut as you screamed. 

Chris didn’t let up though. He held onto the vibrator and pressed it harder into your clit himself, still pistoning his hips into your clenching wetness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, stop!” You begged. 

Chris, knowing that you had a safe word and would use it if you genuinely wanted things to stop, kept pressing in, “I thought you said you wanted to cum? Aren’t you cumming?” He asked innocently. 

Justin leaned down and sucked a hypersensitive nipple into his mouth with a pop before his hand came down to smack your nipple harshly. 

“Oh my fucking God!” You gripped the table harshly, your legs shaking violently as the pain began to become pleasure once again. Your body felt ice cold this time. 

Justin moved the end of the table next to Chris, leaning over to choke you once again, his free hand stroking his cock quickly, chasing his own release. Beneath the two men, your body exploded once again with a loud scream, your body shaking in a way you’d never experienced with orgasms. 

Chris pulled out of you and stroked himself harshly, both him and Justin finishing on your ass, ribbons of white dripping across your skin. They finally removed the vibrator and you were able to catch a breath. Just when you thought you could catch a second, Chris’s fingers came down to smack your clit hard and you nearly cried, “For good measure.” 

[wolfinshipclothing]

Summary: I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Excerpt:

But what about you? You never tell me what's up," said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. "How's cram school going?"

"It's going," she said flatly.

"That's good. How about Lion? I haven't seen the little rascal since forever."

"You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases."

"Right, right." Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. "Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked."

Steven's attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie's arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

"I don't know," she said, choosing simple words.

"What do you mean? Did something happen or…?"

"It's just one of these days, you know?"

Steven's silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

Welp, i came crawling back from my hole with this fic. Mind you its a very angsty, sensible fic bout self-harming and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I wrote this because 1) its always Steven the one that is hurting and needs helps, and Connie the one who is there to put him back on his fic. Few times i have seen the opposite.

And 2) this has been a shitty year. To everyone in the world, obviously. Just have been very garbage to me. Or maybe I AM the one who was being garbage to myself. In any case, i haven’t been feeling well, and decided to write up my feelings into the characters i am currently hyper-fixating on.

Is it healthy? Who knows! But it DID made me feel better. I hope this fic, if it doesn’t trigger some catharsis in you guys, at least entertain you all for a while.

Anyway, that’s all. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year folks.

(You can also read it in Fanfiction, btw)

"You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation was provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution." —Caroline Kettlewell, "Skin Game".

Connie’s mind was beyond herself; far, far away, where she couldn’t reach it. Her body was heavy; lead weight held together by rusted tin bolts. And Connie was trapped inside it, with no company but the stinging pain on her arm and the weight of the shirt she kept against it.

How long have I been like this? She wondered. It felt like hours. Her legs were like paper; where she not sitting on her bed, she would have already plummeted to the floor.

I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Connie lifted the shirt. The bleeding had stopped. The cuts were all dry out now —probably had been for a few minutes— but they still shined with a disgusting color. The marks from last time were underneath; red rivers over dried out canals. Feral slashes over healed scars.

Connie dropped her head onto her hands, elbows on her knees, and applied pressure over her temples. That usually helped her think.

“Stupid,” she said with a sore voice. “Stupid, stupid. You always do the same.”

Connie’s harming habit have come, less like a metaphorical descent into madness and more like a —also metaphorical— walk down a descending staircase, where each step would disappear behind you, leaving you no choice but to go further down, into the dark.

It gradually became a routine. If she’d messed up a test, she would spend all night studying the subject. If she’d snapped at her mom in a moment of hormonal-fueled rage, she would skip dinner —breakfast too, if possible. If she’d been so absorbed in her own world she’d ghosted her friends, she would train with her sword until her palms were all blistered. Small pinches of pain she could administer, in measurable doses and only when it was justified.

It was astounding how quickly she lost sight of what was measurable and justified.

But the real aggravating part of it, in Connie’s opinion, was how much of her time it takes. It’d taken her a whole morning of self-loathing for the static to take over her body. Once it did, she lost control and started attacking her outer forearm with swift, brutal slashes, instead of the controlled cuts she usually administered. When she saw what she’d done, she panicked and reached for her neatly folded white shirt. What a waste. She had barely bled a few fat drops, yet it was more than enough to ruin her favorite shirt.

She’d been quiet since then, holding the soon-to-be-rag over her arm and trying to grasp her slippery psyche at the same time. She could feel her body, but she wasn’t in it. Her brain was working itself to death, but she’d no control over its thoughts. Like Schrodinger’s cat, it was like she was there and not there at the same time. Alive and Dead. Connie has come to call this dissociative state ‘the limbo’. And she was knees deep in it now. And it must be past noon already!

If I could make my butt to get up and clean up this mess, maybe I could sit down and have some work done. Otherwise, this would be a lost day.

The thought loomed over her. A lost day. She couldn’t let that happen. Now she just had to find a way to get out of the fog of her mind…

The phone ringed. Connie as much as jumped from the bed, dropping the shirt and scissors on the floor. She reached for her phone on the table.

BISCUIT

Just left the hotel and hit the road. The engine sounds like it’s about to choke to death, tho. I hope it doesn’t break before reaching New Orleans. Call me when you have a break! Love you!

Connie sighed; her heart’s palpitations echoing in her ears. How ridiculous! Jumping to grab her phone as if she’d been caught. Like some bad horror movie; someone on the other side would said ‘you have been seen’ and then hang up, leaving Connie panicking like a fool. Ridiculous!

She grabbed the scissors and the shirt with one hand, the phone with the message she ought to respond in the other. She glanced at the bed; the sheets were wet, she ought to change those. Her arm was still stinging; she ought to treat the wounds. Also, she ought to get properly dressed. And her test was still on the desk, waiting for her…

Connie groaned and gravitated naturally towards the bed and felt into it. She’d never had trouble compartmentalizing before. She also had never been in the limbo this long before, however.

She found herself thinking of Steven; living on the open road, driving that tank with radio he calls ‘car’, doing whatever he wants, going whenever he wants to go —previously checking his rigorous list of places to go. Being whoever he wants to be.

This made Connie mad. She didn’t want to be mad. She rotated her phone in her hand several times, thinking.

I could call him, she thought. You are supposed to reach out when… in situations like this, right?

Her stomach grumbled with acid reflux. She definitely didn’t want to talk to Steven —nor anyone else, really. But hearing a friendly voice could be what she needs to get back on her feet.

She pressed the name on the screen and put the phone on speaker. It rang. Please don’t pick up, please don’t…

Schick.

“Hey Connie! What’s up?”

“Hey Steven. Are you busy?” she asked.

“Not at all. The road’s pretty calm. I think there is a storm coming though; there are some mean-looking clouds above me,” said Steven, a bit uncertain. “Are you on your break?”

In a manner of speaking. “Yeah. I just thought… you know, checking out on you.”

“Making sure I didn’t pick any new hitchhiker? I’ll let you know I haven’t done that since Miami Beach,” he laughed. “Seriously though, you should have seen the motel I crashed last night. ‘Sir-sleep-a-lot’ was the name, and it was great. There’d a real-looking imitation sword and shield above the bed! That’s the stuff you won’t see in any fancy-brand hotel.”

Connie smiled briefly. Despite everything that’d happened to Steven —and he really broke the limit of shit that could happen to a person—, he was still the same kind-hearted boy that got emotional over the simpler stuff.

“But what about you? You never tell me what’s up,” said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. “How’s cram school going?”

“It’s going,” she said flatly.

“That’s good. How about Lion? I haven’t seen the little rascal since forever.”

“You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Right, right.” Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. “Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked.”

Steven’s attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie’s arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

“I don’t know,” she said, choosing simple words.

“What do you mean? Did something happen or…?”

“It’s just one of these days, you know?”

Steven’s silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

“I’m doing badly,” Connie said quickly. “I’m feeling real bad right now and I don’t even know why,” she added, only half-lying.

There was a long mmm on the other side of the line.

“Alright. I’m going home,” said Steven.

Connie’s heart started to race. “You can’t do that. You are driving... a-and your schedule-”

“I’ll just park on a side of the road. There are some nice trees I can park under. Then I’ll call Lion and be there in a flash.”

No, no, NO. “Steven, you really don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem at all! I want to be with you-“

“Steven, I don’t want to see you, OK!” Connie bolted upright, sitting on the bed. “Nobody asked you to do anything! Why do you always have to make things about yourself?”

Silence. A gust of wind came from the window, chilling Connie to the bones. She squeezed her left hand until it hurt. The scissors were still there. She glanced at her right arm; smooth and clean of any mark. Connie was right handed, but she could make an exception.

The thought alone shook her to her core, making her open her palm. The scissors felt with a clink-clank. She brought the phone closer to her face.  

“Please,” Connie muffled a choke with her free hand, “please don’t go. Can you just talk to me?”

More silence, and there was a moment in which Connie knew ‘this is it, my best friend hates me forever’. But then there was a sliding noise, and the rumble of dirt being removed. There was also a distant boom; a storm was about to drop.

“I stopped the car,” said Steven. “I’m here for you, if you want.”

Great. It’s not like that’ll deepen Connie’s guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. Dark walls were closing around her, and the only source of light was her phone and the person on the other side. Obstinate tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Please don’t say that. I know… you know that’s not true,” Steven measured each word as he spoke. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, “I’m just being a big baby, that’s all.” No answer. He’s not gonna make it easy for her, is he? “I’m mad. Really mad.”

“Mad at me?”

Connie grumbled as an answer. She heard Steven’s struggle to swallow.

“Right. Not about me.”

“Exactly,” she said, although it was a half truth.

“I’m mad at myself,” she proceeded. “I’m mad because I fail at everything I do.” Connie took several breaths. Here comes the bomb: “I flunked at my practice college entrance test.”

More silence.

“Go on,”

“Aren’t you gonna say its stupid?” she asked cautiously. She’d expected a scoff, a snicker. Maybe even some laughter.

“I’m listening,” Steven insisted.

Connie tried to put some verbal sense in the ball yarn that was her mind.

“I really flunked it, you know,” she said, waiting —hoping— for a reprimand. “Even the stuff that I’ve studied and re-studied.”

“But it was just a practice test. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything, Steven,” she cried. “If I’d taken it today, I would have gotten a garbage grade.”

Connie cleaned the tears away with the back of her hand. The gust coming from the window was making her shiver. Her wet hair and the soaked sheets were not helping either.

“It like everything I had done, all the hard work I put into it was for nothing,” she said. “Everything feels so pointless.”

“I don’t think it was,” said Steven, carefully. “Even if you failed, you still practiced for the real one. Don’t give up. Going to college was your dream.”

“Was it? I don’t really know.” Connie bit her lip. “No, that’s a lie. I do want to go to college. I just wonder if it’s worth it. I mean, what’s the point of trying so hard if I fail anyway? Do you have any idea how many nights I lost for this? O-or how many times I had to put my friends on hold because I was busy studying?”

She stopped. She felt as if her breath was stolen from her.

“Of course you do,” she sighed. “And it was all for nothing. I failed at this as I fail at everything else.”

“What is ‘everything else’?”

Her blood was freezing cold, as was her answer. “You know.”

There it was again; the roar of thunder, followed by the sound of a million drops falling down. It was starting to rain somewhere.

“Connie,” said Steven, on the verge of shattering. “Have you been thinking about Homeworld?”

Connie clenched her free hand, her teeth, and everything else that required physical exertion.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.”

“I know I have no right to feel bad about it. You are the one who suffered the most from it-”

She was cut by her own throat shutting down, and for a moment only tiny hiccups came out. There was a blinding, white rage inside her. It commanded her to grab her sword and slash, lunge and cut all her problems away. But she didn’t. She stood still and cried.

“But I was there too. I saw what White did to you and I couldn’t do anything.” Connie gasped for air. “I trained so hard for nothing. When you needed me I… I failed you.” She stopped to gasp and clean her tears. “H-how can I know I won’t be a mess in everything else I do, that I won’t flunk on my first year of college? Studying was the only thing I was good at and… and I’m not even good at it anymore and just…”

She stopped to let the tears roll freely. It was too much; too much weight, too many tears. Everything was in the air now. All her failures, all her fears, like an enveloping toxic cloud around her; it’d always been there, but now someone else could see it. In the middle of her wailing, she caught Steven’s concerned voice.

“Connie, can you hear me?”

It could be easy to hang up now, forget this ever happened, and call back when she was strong and put together. ‘Hey Steven, sorry about that, everything is better now’. But Connie couldn’t do that —not to him. She mumbled a reply.

“Alright. I want you to breathe with me, OK? Can you do that?”

Well, that’s easy for him to ask. He’s not the one hyperventilating. And to think many times she’d said the same, when Steven was going through a panic attack. How the turntables indeed.

She knew the instructions to the letter, but she coordinated them to Steven’s voice. Four seconds inspiration. Hold it for seven seconds. Eight seconds exhalation. They repeated it until every corner of Connie’s mind was occupied with this routine.

“Feeling better?” Steven asked.

Connie noticed she wasn’t crying anymore and with one last sniff she said: “A bit.”

“Good. Now I want you to listen,” said Steven. “First, just because I was the one who was attacked doesn’t mean I got the monopoly on trauma.” He stopped to see if his joke caused any effect. ”What I mean to say is, that day was… it was a literal hell for all of us. Maybe more to me than to the gems, but it was so for you too because, like you said, you were there with me.”

“Which brings me to the second point: nothing of what happened in Homeworld, or that happened to me, to us, was your fault,” Steven said, firmly and fluently, like a practiced speech. “And there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I know you are mad because you couldn’t take a swing at White’s giant nose…”

Connie laughed. She imagined Steven raising a triumphant fist into the air.

“But you did help me. You carried me to… to me! If I’m alive now, it’s because of you. And I should…” Steven stopped. Connie could see him, hand on his mouth, trying to hold the tears back and be the rock she needed. She knew that feeling too well. “I should’ve told before how much you did to me. You saved my life back then, a-and then you saved me again, months ago, when I got corrupted.”

Connie gasped. Steven never brought that topic unprompted, and he never called it for what it was. It was always ‘the incident’.

“You were there for me since day one,” Steven laughed dryly. “Actually, I should be the one apologizing. You had to go through all of that because of me.”

“I wanted to do it,” Connie retorted. “I wanted to go through all of that with you.”

“That doesn’t make it right. It wasn’t fair.”

Connie huffed. They were scratching the surface of a deeper conversation. Because Connie was mad for wanting to go to Homeworld so bad, and for all the times her life was in danger before that. And she was mad at her parents —what were they thinking? They shouldn’t have let Connie run around with a sword, fighting a war that wasn’t her own; they should have locked her up until she was eighteen. Damn, she was mad at the whole Universe for needing to be saved. They were kids! Stupid kids who didn’t knew better than to take such a task over their shoulders.

And deep down, in a corner she dared not to look, she was mad at Steven. Because from the first day they meet, he chose her. To be his friend, his partner-in-crime, his… And in an even deeper place, Connie was mad at herself. Because she had chosen Steven too, and if it came to it, she would do it all again. Back then, in the middle of the chaos, with the fear of death and the threat of the destruction of the Earth as her everyday bread and butter, life made sense.

But now the war was over, and the books Connie studied so much felt as unreal as any fantasy novel. How do you go back to being normal after having a destiny?

Connie let her head fall back and softly touch the wall. She was far too tired to shine light on those darks corners. She just wanted to rest. She was half-way napping when Steven’s voice brought her back.

“Connie? Connie, are you there? Please talk to me.”

Connie slapped herself awake. “I’m here Steven. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, as convinced as anything. “How about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do.”

“Well I… I worry about you!” Steven protested. “So I guess we are in a loop here.”

That comment wasn’t particularly funny, but Connie started to laugh; a short, weak laugh that grew up to be a roar. On the other side, Steven laughed too.

“Oh man. This sure feels familiar doesn’t it?” said Steven, and eased a bit on the laughter. “I guess you are better at making me feel better than I am doing it for you.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short. I do feel better. A little,” she confessed. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me being dumb. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steven was quiet for a while. When he spoke again, it was with the clearness of a professor giving class.

“Connie, do you remember one of the first things Dr. A. told me when I started therapy?

“Life sucks?” She heard Steven breathing raggedly, trying not to laugh.

“That is the first thing,” he said in a short breath, “but I mean the second first thing.”

Connie scratched her head. “The thing about the pond?”

“The frozen lake,” he corrected. “She said that, for people with depression —not saying you have it— or have gone through some trauma —again, not pointing fingers—, anxiety is like a frozen lake. Every day you bring new problems to the lake; little, everyday stuff that’s not too heavy. Then some days you bring heavier stuff, and the ice starts to crack, but you don’t notice because you hide the heavy stuff under the lighter stuff. Finally one day, you bring a new little problem and you put it on top of the pile. You know what happens next?”

“The ice breaks?”

“It breaks,” said Steven, like a satisfied lecturer. “It breaks and you fall in the frozen water, with all of that heavy shit you have been hiding.”

Connie’s hand grabbed the front of her bathrobe. She was still not used to hearing Steven Cutie Pie DeMayo Universe curse —even if she was the one who taught him the coolest words (besides Amethyst, of course).

“I remember the story now,” Connie scratched her head, feeling the hard knots of her hair. “I always thought it was a bit complex as a metaphor.”

“My point is-“

“Why not use a house of cards? Every anxious thought is a new card, and as you pile them up, the house loses stability. Finally, one day, it just falls under its own weight,” Connie explained with renewed vigor. “See? It paints a much clearer picture.”

“The point, Miss Wiseguy,” grunted Steven, and Connie could see him folding his arms. “Is that if you don’t want the ice to break-“

“Or the house of cards to fall.”

“Or the house of cards to fall,” he conceded, “you have to deal with that heavy stuff before you are overwhelmed. You don’t need to do that now,” he added, predicting her complain. “But at some point, you will need to talk to someone. Your parents or your friends… Or I can give you Dr. A.’s number. She knows everything we went through.”

“That ought to save me some time,” she said. “Maybe she’ll give me a discount card of ‘Friends of Steven Universe’.”

“See? Now you are being positive,” Steven laughed.

Connie smiled sadly. “What about you?”

“I’ll always be here for you. By phone, video chat, or to visit you… If you want me to,” he whispered that last part.

“Only if you promise to not turn into a Kaiju when we start exposing my inner demons.”

“Ha ha,” he said robotically. “I’ll assume by your sarcasm that you are the same old Berry now.”

Connie mulled about it for a few seconds. The cloud of anxiety was slowly banishing, and she no longer felt the claustrophobic walls closing around her.

“Yes, I’m good now. Thanks to yo-aaah” a loud, long yawn took over her. “Sorry. Guess I’m more worn out than I thought.”

“Yeah, I can tell… Have you really not been sleeping at all?”

“Unless you count passing out of tiredness as sleeping,” she joked.

“Ah,” said Steven. “Have you been, well… you know?”

Connie didn’t answer. She knew what he meant, but she’d no voice to say it.

“Connie, have you been hurting yourself?”

“This conversation is hurting me.”

“Connie.”

The phone vibrated and got hot to the touch, before cooling down real fast. Connie’s head vibrated too, like a snow globe being shaken. Steven’s control over electric devices had been growing.

She lifted her arm to look at the cuts; they still stung, although she hasn’t been paying attention to it. All the slashes were dry and had a dull color.

Fuck it, why not?

“Just a few cuts,” she said flatly, “with my mom’s scissors.”

There was silence for a while, but Steven’s was still there; his breath was ragged and odd. Has he turned pink? Did Connie throw him into a panic attack?

Finally, he spoke: “Connie, I need you to do me a favor.”

Oh boy, that doesn’t sound good at all. “What is it?”

“Throw those scissors away.”

Connie pursed her lips. “Steven, I can’t do that. My mom would be mad,” she said, although it was a poor excuse. If Connie cared about her mother’s feelings, she wouldn’t have stolen the scissors in the first place.

  “I know. I don’t pretend to tell you what to do,” he said, measuring his words like a baker measures flour, “but it’s something that helped me a lot. I mean, when I was in a bad place, I would go into these blank moments when I wasn’t thinking at all.” Connie nodded. He was talking about the limbo. “When I started therapy, I was told to try to be more conscious of myself. More present. So when I felt I was, you know, getting in the mood,” Steven groaned at his own choice of words, “I would take a step back and do something different. We can’t always control our situation or our mood or even our actions, but we can make small changes to have some power over ourselves.”

The way Steven spoke in plural said that he wasn’t doing vain motivational talk; he was talking from a place he’d been in… and maybe still was. Connie remembered sitting on Steven’s bed, trying to cheer him up to eat or step outside and get some fresh air. She also remembered coming home, locking herself in the bathroom and taking a long shower while she cried.

Connie held onto that thought and sat on the bed. She picked the scissors with her free hand and put that memory in them. She also put the memories of White Diamond, the monsters’ attack on Beach City, the arguments with her mother. All her anger, her insecurities, her fear of not knowing who she was— she grabbed all of it and put it into a ball, one she was carrying in her throwing hand. She extended her arm all the way behind her back. And when the wind blew the curtains opens, she propelled her arm forward like a whip.

The scissors —and metaphorical ball— broke free of her hand, made a straight line and finally flew out of the window; out of sight.

Connie stood still, catching her breath. The first thing she noticed was that her chest, while still swelling with anger, felt notably lighter. The second thing was Steven’s voice calling her from the phone. The final thing she noticed made her scream:

“Holy shit!”

“What? What happened?” she heard Steven calling to her.

“I threw the scissors out of the window!”

“…WHAT?”

Connie dashed towards the window, holding her bathtub with her free hand, and stuck her head outside.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah… yeah I think so,” said Connie with a relieved breath. “The street is desert at this time. Anyway, I think I can see the scissors. They felt right by the trash can, so maybe I accidentally stabbed a rat?”

Steven was hyperventilating, but he took a break from it to scoff at her. “Now is no time for jokes, missy! Oh man… you could have killed someone! Why did you do that?”

“Because you told me to, you dumb-dumb!”

“I didn’t tell you to throw a sharp object out of the window, you dumb-dumb!”

Connie shook her head. “Forget it, I don’t want to fight.” She leaned against the wall and let gravity slid her to the floor.

“Me neither,” said Steven. The sound of rain was quieter now. “At least did that helped?”

“Yes. Almost killing innocent bystanders always cheers me up.”

“That’s my girl,” Steven laughed and so did Connie, albeit weaker.

Still, she felt better. Her body was recharging energy quickly and her mind was emerging from whatever black hole it had been hiding in.

“I think I can go on with my day now,” she said and she meant it.

“Are you sure?” Steven asked. Connie reaffirmed her decision. “Well, that’s awesome. So… would it be cool if I drop by and check on you?”

Connie’s heart started to race up again as the anxiety came back. Check on you. Like she was sick and she needed to be taken care of.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she said, firmly. “But later. Definitely later. I’ll call you.”

“But I… OK. Alright, w-we’ll talk later then.”

Steven sounded really bummed out, but Connie could pay it no mind now, lest she wanted to feel down the whole again. “Thanks for everything. And I’m sorry I made you stop in the middle of a storm,” she said.

“Oh it’s not so bad. Kinda weird though,” said Steven. “You know, usually you hide from the rain, lock yourself inside and look at it from the window of your house. But I’m under it right now. The sky is falling around me but I’m as dry as clean clothes. And, I don’t know, it’s beautiful. It makes you appreciate everything there is, even stuff that’s supposed to be ugly. Does it make sense?”

The words struck something deep inside Connie, but whatever meaning Steven was trying to transmit was ignored. She was not in the mood for lessons right now.

“I know what you mean,” she swiftly said. “So I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright then. Please be safe. And call me.”

“I will.”

“Ok… I love you.”

Connie blushed. “Goodbye.” She cut the call. She should have said something else, something more. She didn’t know why she had been in such a rush to hang up.

She just knew saying ‘I love you’ was easier when they weren’t dating.

  With one long, invigorating breath, Connie stood up. She stretched her arms over her head until her bones cracked, then she bended and touched her finger toes until her legs were burning.

With the sudden rush of adrenaline, thinking became easier. The rage was gone and her chest didn’t feel as heavy. Connie has left the limbo, at least for now.

She looked for her phone. Her last study break was one hour ago. Most of that time had been spent talking to Steven. So much time —hers and his— wasted in vain…

Alright Connie, compartmentalize. There’s a lot to do. What comes first? She asked herself. Well, her red, stinging arm would be a good starting point. She headed for her bedroom’s bathroom and closed the door shut.

The bathroom was still mildly warm from the shower she took. The first aid kit was where she left it; resting over the sink, opened. It’s where Connie usually hid the scissors. She hung the bathrobe on a perch and checked the cuts on the mirror. They ran deeper than Connie’s usual handiwork, so she applied the process she used for her training injuries. Soap and water to wash the wounds. Dry well, apply antiseptic to prevent infection and then bandage the whole thing, from the elbow to the wrist. She’ll have to change the bandages after tomorrow at least.

Some petroleum jelly could help the wound heal faster and prevent scarring, and Connie’s mom had some in her first aid kit but she discarded that thought. Explaining to her mom how she got these wounds was out of question.

Connie was about to put the kit away when an idea hit her. She brought the bandages out and applied them over her right arm —her clean, unharmed right arm. There; now if anyone, be it her mom or her friends asked, she could appeal to a training accident. And if her mom wants to check the wound herself, Connie will show her the right arm. Her mom will comment on how well the injury had healed, or she’ll simply believe Connie was overreacting to a minor rash. In any case, she’ll be none of the wiser.

Connie looked at herself in the mirror —naked, except for the bandaged arms. Her reflection smiled sadly. You think you are so cunning, don’t you?

With that done, she left the kit over the sink and tiptoed into her cold room. She went to the wardrobe and chose a long sleeved shirt, some jogging pants, and a sweater.

Next thing were the sheets. They were soaked; perfect to catch pneumonia. Connie started to take them off. She stopped and instead she left her room —with the same feeling as Robinson Crusoe leaving his island—, and headed for the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of juice and drank it like an old man in the desert. She poured another glass and headed back upstairs.

Once in her bedroom, she took off the sheets, rolled them all into a ball and poured the orange juice over the sheets, with extra care as to not wet the mattress. The textile absorbed the juice like a sponge. Finally, she went back downstairs, threw the sheets into the dishwasher and set it on. In the unlikely event her mom questioned Connie about her dropping a glass of juice on the bed; Connie only had to point at the orange colored stains.

They’ll disappear after a few washes, anyway. Ironically, the marks on Connie’s arm might last longer. She entertained the idea of putting her shirt to wash, but she scratched it off. Being a doctor’s daughter, she knew blood stains were a pain to get rid of.

Satisfied with what she had accomplished, Connie’s heart gave a little thud as she approached the door. She didn’t feel like going for a walk, but she’d to recover the, sort of speak, crime’s weapon. She stepped outside and walked aimlessly around the sidewalk for a minute, looking for the scissors. She found them on the floor right next to the trash can. Five inches left and they would have landed on top of the trash. It really makes your mind think.

Or someone else’s mind. Not Connie’s. She didn’t have time to metaphors.

She knelt to pick the scissors. And then she saw them; or rather, they saw her. On the other side of the street, a young couple crossed sights with her. They keep their glance on her for less than five seconds before walking away, laughing. It was enough to throw Connie down a hole. Eyes seemed to materialize out of thin air, staring faces, judgmental glances; all of them pointing at Connie. All of them knew what she’d done. She’d been seen.

Connie dashed inside the house and slammed the door behind her. She felt to the ground, short of breath. That couple must be on their way now, totally oblivious of the effect they caused on Connie, and she can’t blame them; she couldn’t predicted that either. Her social anxiety had been tame for so long, Connie thought it was a thing of the past. That’s another thing to scratch out of her accomplishments list.

Nevertheless Connie had the scissors in her shaking hands, and all she wanted was to put them away.

She stood up and moved around the house exhausted. She picked a pair of clean sheets and went back to her room. She locked the door, shut down the windows and closed the curtains. She breathed out loudly. Now she was unseen and nobody could judge her.

She set the clean sheets on the bed. A strong scent of lavender hit her. Finally, she went to the bathroom; put the scissors inside the first aid kit, under everything else, and put the kit on the back of the cabinet, until next time.

Next time… now that was an upsetting thought.

With everything else done, she just had to get rid of the shirt. She had second thoughts about washing it, since throwing it away would be complicated. Feeling a headache incoming, Connie opened her closet and threw the bloody rag inside. It wasn’t like her to postpone things, but… who was she kidding? This is standard Connie’s stress dealing procedure.

Connie looked at everything she’d done, and felt at peace for the first time that day. Then her eyes felt onto her standing mirror.

Oh no, this won’t do, she thought, meaning her hair. More specifically, the crow nest that had taken over her head and that she usually called hair.

She grabbed her blue hairbrush. Her hair was so entangled the regular ministrations won’t do, so she attacked it with brutal brushing motions. In the meantime, her mind kept producing images. Steven under the heavy rain, checking the soaked engine that broke down when he stopped to talk to her. The disappointed glance of her mom when she finds out all the scheming Connie went through to hide the truth. Her own hands shaking with anxiety as she takes the real test and she realizes she doesn’t know any answers.

She set the brush down. There. Now the image in the mirror was presentable —although some days, Connie wasn’t sure if it was really hers.

“I’m alright,” she said, with a voice that felt alien even to her. “I’ll be fine. I’m a warrior,” she added, more convinced with each word.

She was a warrior. Maybe she’d lost her center, but she could find it. She could be strong again. Once she gets a grip of herself and gets into college, everything will be alright.

Right? Right.

With this new resolution, Connie walked to her worktable. Her failed test was still there. Next to it was the half-done new test she had been working on when the static became too much.

Now, she could keep working and pretend all of this never happened. That this was just a very long study break, that everything she did was normal and healthy. It’s what she was expected to do, right?

Once again she thought of Steven, taking time from his trip to sit down under a deluge to talk to her. Breathe with her, as if they were one.

Connie’s hand reached towards the test… And then went left, grabbed the nearest book and dropped it over the papers.

This can wait… she thought, uncertain.

“This can wait,” she verbalized defiantly to the World.

With that problem done for, she had a free afternoon. She tapped her chin —she hasn’t had this free time in a while.

She picked her phone and flipped through the library. There was this reboot of ‘Crying Breakfast Friends’ that Steven had been bugging her to watch, but she’d been rain checked until she could pass the test. Maybe it’s time to keep the study waiting. She shuddered at that inch of her rebellious younger self taking over.

She picked her earphones and lay comfortable on her fresh, lavender-scented sheets. Five minutes into the first episode and she was cackling and crying with a cartoon about animated fruits while her papers —her physical future— waited on the table. And they’ll keep waiting until tomorrow.

Connie didn’t know if this was a step forward or backwards. But a step’s a step nonetheless; and she was still moving. 

[chelsfic]

Wish You Weren’t Here (part 1) - Diego Jiménez x Reader - Power fanfic

Read Part Two

A/N: Whatttt am I doing? Can anyone tell me? Thanks to @1zashreena1​ and @symbiont13​ @sparrows-books​ for being so enthusiastic about this. Oh, and (not that anyone cares lol) but I make a casual reference to Cesar Millan in this fic (wtf is this?) and I am actually firmly opposed to his dog training philosophy. SO. Just to go on record.

Warnings: Smut!!, Threatening, Exhibitionism, Forced Audience to Exhibitionism, Crack!Fic

You stare at the spray of white powder smeared over the top of the glass coffee table. How…how does one clean up cocaine? You nervously twist your cleaning rag into a tightly wound rope as you ponder the options. It’s expensive, right? Would Mr. Jiménez be angry if you cleaned it up? Should you–what?–sweep it into a dustpan and set it aside for later? There’s not a huge amount but if you swept it all into a little pile there would probably be enough to…use? What the fuck do you know about cocaine? What if you use your spray bottle on the coffee table and it goes into the air and you breath it in? Would you get high? This is ridiculous.

It’s your first day working for Diego Jiménez and you’re nervous. Actually that’s an understatement. You have a pretty good idea of how powerful he is and you desperately want to make a good impression and keep this job. The pay is more than you’d make cleaning ten houses. The downside being that the facts of household cleanliness with regards to Class A drugs are now–apparently–required reading.

You’re still hovering indecisively when Diego strolls into the living room. He walks with a confident swagger that you can’t help admiring. Your new boss might be intimidating, but a tiny part of you finds that intensely attractive. Maybe a not-so-tiny part. A part that really needs to pipe down because, at this rate, you’ll be fired before the end of the day anyway.

You don’t want to seem like you’re just standing around idle so you start to carefully scoop the powder using the cloth, plowing it into a neat pile that you intend to–you guess–set aside for now and see what happens. You think he has any tupperware?

Diego’s stride stutters to a stop as he catches sight of what you’re doing. He snaps his fingers at you like Cesar frickin Millan scolding a Pomeranian. You definitely feel like a Pomeranian right now. And he’s a…he’s a Doberman currently staring at you with murder eyes. Fuck.

Your typical response to fear and stress is word vomit.

You freeze in mid-swipe and look up at Diego with eyes wide as saucers, “Uh…sorry. Is this not–okay? I wasn’t sure if I should just leave it how it was. But it looked so dirty and I want to do a good job so I thought I’d just–”

Diego cuts you off with a hand on the back of your neck. His fingers dig into your skin, firm but not enough to hurt…yet. You squeak in alarm as he drags you away from the table and toward the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows that make up one whole wall of the living room.

“Uhh…Mr. Jiménez–sir! This didn’t come up in the interview, but I actually am not the biggest fan of–”

He marches you up to the window, steering you with his hand on the back of your neck until you’re pressed up against it, cheek mashed into the cool glass. And–as if your stupid body is in cahoots with your psychotic boss–you look down. You look down at the busy street which seems like it’s about five miles beneath you. Your head spins and your breathing picks up at a rapid pace. You can’t shut your eyes. Why can’t you shut your eyes? If you shut them you can pretend that you’re someplace safe…on solid ground…and not on the top floor of a high-rise with only a few inches of glass standing between you and death.

“Um!” you squeak, ripping your eyes from the view below and trying to crane your neck enough to see Diego looming behind you. You can just see him from the corner of your eyes, grinning maniacally.

“You. Don’t. Touch. The Product. Understand?” he hisses the words into your ears in that growling, tenor voice of his that is already imprinting itself in some of your shameful fantasies. What is *wrong* with you?

Your words come out in a rushed whisper, “Yes! I understand, Mr. Jiménez. Completely. I-I-I apologize. I wasn’t–you see, I’ve never actually seen cocaine before, you know? And I didn’t know if you’d want me to clean it up or save it for–for later. Or–another worry I had was what if I touched it or, or it went into the air and I breathed it in. Would I get high? And that would be very bad because, um, I don’t like being high. And also it’s my first day of work and I just–” your stutter over your words, gaze drifting back down to focus on the murderous drop to the street below, your eyes are welling with tears now, “–I just wanted to do a good job, sir. I’m sorry.”

He finally lets go of you, his hand dropping away and leaving behind the ghost of his fiery touch on your skin. He steps back to let you turn around and he’s laughing at you, “You thought you’d get high if you touched it?”

You’re too preoccupied with getting away from the window to reply at first. You take a few giant steps away from the glass and then you’re crouching down and planting your palms on the marble floor to remind yourself you’re on solid ground. Fucking phobia.

Diego’s looking at you like you’ve grown another head and you feel the need to explain, breathlessly, “I…don’t…like…heights.”

He steps towards you and you have a great view of his shiny, leather shoes as he crouches down to your level. He catches your eyes with a look that’s warmer than anything you’ve seen from him in your short acquaintance. He smiles apologetically and reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Seems like more than a dislike,” he muses watching you as you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

“Okay…” you answer, “I’m fucking afraid of heights! Uh…sir. Sorry! Sir. Mr. Jiménez.”

How can he have such a megawatt smile after manhandling you into a plate glass window and threatening you? And those dimples? Are you kidding me?

“Call me Diego,” he says. 

You look up at him, falling into his dark, fathomless gaze and thinking to yourself, Son of a bitch.

“Diego,” you breathe. 

“If you find a mess like that again just leave it, okay? I’ll have one of my guys clean it up. There are going to be some things about this job that you’ll just have to get used to. The most important thing,” here his eyes harden, “is that you don’t tell anyone–ever–about anything you see or hear while you work for me. Do you understand?”

You are seriously over your head, aren’t you? When you just stare dumbly back at him, Diego takes your face in his hands and bores his eyes into yours, “Do. You. Understand?”

“Yes…Diego,” you finally answer. Because what else can you say? You suppose at this point you’ve already seen enough that you aren’t free to just…walk away.

“And Y/N?” Diego says, standing up to his full height, towering over you, still crouched on the floor at his feet. “You think you can manage cleaning these windows?”

The look on your face as you glance over at the intimidating wall of glass is comically horrific, but you try to sound casual in your response, “I’ll…manage.”

He laughs and starts to walk away, “Good, because you left a smudge mark with your face just over there.”

You narrow your eyes at him as he leaves. What a little…but even as you’re thinking up a proper insult your eyes lock onto his butt in those tight jeans and notice the way his shirt strains to cover his broad shoulders and…yeah, what were you saying?

***

Later that night you’re finally finished with your work for the day just as guests start to trickle into the penthouse. You wonder if Diego spends every night this way–is his life one big party? You’re sweaty and your back aches and you’re still feeling wobbly from forcing yourself to get right up to those windows and give them a thorough cleaning. You just need to check in with Diego before you leave for the night but he’s still cooped in his bedroom upstairs and you don’t really want to interrupt him. So you’re just trying to blend in with a potted plant against the wall as supermodel attractive women mill about, outnumbering the male guests by about 3 to 1, you’d judge. You feel beyond shabby in your jeans and t-shirt. But at least you’re not wearing one of those housemaid dresses you had to wear for your last employer.

Diego still hasn’t made an appearance, and a younger guy in the crowd has apparently taken notice of you. You can feel every muscle in your body tense up as he starts prowling over to you. You just want to go home and take a bath and maybe think about the way Diego’s butt sways a little when he walks. Ugh, stop that!

“Hey, girl. You not having a good time?” he purrs in a manner he surely thinks is seductive but you’re very tired and very ready to leave.

“I’m not–”

Diego interrupts you, putting a proprietary hand on your shoulder and squeezing a little, “She’s not for you, Ángel. Leave.”

The guy’s whole demeanor changes when he sets eyes on your boss and he backs away with a little bow of respect that has you really, strongly questioning your sanity in A. Taking this job and B. Insisting on being attracted to your potentially psycho-killer employer.

You turn around and Diego is giving you that megawatt smile again. For a minute you just stand there like a deer in the headlights until your brain kicks back in.

“Um…I’m leaving for the night, Mr. Jiménez. I mean–Diego. If you don’t need me for anything else?”

He arches a wicked brow at you and his lips hint at a playful grin. “Anything else?” he laughs. Is he making fun of you? Toying with you? You watch as his eyes focus on a woman strutting by who’s probably half a foot taller than you and 60 pounds lighter. She’s wearing…not much. He licks his lips like a lion about to dig into a zebra. 

“Okay, then…” you murmur, backing away a little. 

Diego turns back at your words looking a little chagrined but still playful, “See you tomorrow, little girl.”

You make a beeline for the elevator, finally letting out a shaky sigh as the doors close behind you. There’s something about Diego that is irresistibly attractive to you. Despite his threatening aura or maybe–maybe because of it? He’s dangerous and powerful and a very bad decision waiting to happen. But–you think about the woman he eyed before you left for the night–who are you kidding? The decision isn’t yours and there is no way Diego Jiménez is interested in the likes of you.

And that’s a good thing.

Probably.

Definitely.

Hmmm…

***

You begin to form an understanding of why this job is so well compensated when you arrive to work the next morning. The whole main level of the penthouse is…a mess. And there are random people passed out asleep on the floor and couches. Glasses and bottles cover every surface, the floor is stained from spills. Napkins, plates, random articles of clothing. Quelle frickin nightmare. 

You take a deep breath and drop your purse into the closet by the elevator entrance. This is…fine. This will be fine. You just need to compartmentalize your priorities. You’ll start with the trash and move your way forward. You have to step over the sleeping form of one of the many female guests from the night before and an unkind thought pops into your head in relation to starting with the trash.

Not nice, you admonish yourself. But then you wonder if the girl had her hands on Diego last night and you find that you don’t really care. Why are you getting so territorial over this man already? Some of the only contact you’ve had with him has been him slamming you against a window to punish you for “touching the product.” That shouldn’t…that should certainly not be a turn on. 

No.

The place starts looking a little better as the morning wears on. By the time Diego emerges from his bedroom, bleary-eyed and dressed only in an expensive, black robe, you’ve nearly finished cleaning up and are just starting to wonder what to do with all of the people still draped all over the place. Your thoughts are abruptly torpedoed when Diego staggers by and the robe partially opens to reveal how naked he is underneath. 

You freeze in place, eyes fixed to the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen and–possibly–straining to see if the robe will part even further to reveal a bit further south.

Diego catches you looking and offers you a seductive grin, “I knew you weren’t as innocent as you seemed.”

“I–what!? Yes, I am! I mean…no. I don’t know?” Stop. Talking.

Diego looks around at all of the passed out bodies and you jump when he suddenly lets out a vicious bark, “Out! Everybody out! This isn’t a fucking sleepover!”

You marvel at the immediate response as people start stirring and lurching upright, walking zombie-like to the elevator. Diego is walking towards you by the couch when he grabs a girl’s wrist as she skirts around him. 

“Not you,” he growls, collapsing onto the couch and letting his robe fall open entirely, revealing the large, proudly straining erection between his legs. Your mouth drops open and you feel your cheeks blush like the heat of a thousand suns. The girl goes to her knees in front of Diego and he lets his head loll over the back of the couch, just casually gesturing with a hand at his cock. “You know what to do.”

Before anything gets…started…you’re talking again, “Oh. My god. Okay, I’ll just go somewhere else while you…uh…do that–”

“No!” Diego barks, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly so you can’t move away. “I like an audience.”

You let out a little whimper of protest, but he just tightens his grip on your hands. You try to cover your eyes with your other hand but he grunts, “Look, look, look, Y/N!”

You let your hand drop away and are forced to watch as the girl takes his massive cock into her mouth. Diego’s head drops back and his shoulders heave as he groans with pleasure. He looks over at you, capturing you in his dark gaze as the girl starts bobbing up and down. He loosens his grip on your hand a little, squeezing gently and stroking your fingers almost…almost lovingly. God, this is–you don’t know what this is.

His face is open and vulnerable, completely destroyed with lust. His mouth hangs open as he emits broken grunts and moans. You can’t look away. The sounds he makes as he unravels, the way his facial expression twitches and crumples as his orgasm nears, his other hand grabbing the girl’s hair and forcing her to take him deeper as he roars with his finish. It’s all beautiful and sick and overwhelming and hot. So hot. His dick falls from the girl’s mouth with an obscene pop and he growls without ever looking away from you, “Get the fuck outta here.”

The girl scurries away and he’s still staring into your eyes, his erection rapidly softening between his spread legs. You must look like a beet, you’re blushing so red. And you’re so worked up with a mixture of embarrassment, arousal, jealousy and shame that there are tears in your eyes. This man has brought you to tears twice in your two-day acquaintance. That can’t be a good omen. 

“You’re jealous,” he whispers, reading your thoughts. “You want my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

You finally shut your eyes against his relentless stare and a single tear falls over your cheek. 

“Please, Diego. Let me…let me go,” you need to be released from the intensity of this moment before you do something stupid. For a second you fear that he won’t listen, but his fingers loosen and he lets your hand drop away from his. 

You flee. Rushing to the bathroom and shutting yourself inside. Rather than burst into tears–which is what you’d been expecting–you stagger against the wall and greedily rip at the button of your jeans, diving your hand inside your panties and stroking yourself with abandon until you come with a silent sob.

Yup, trouble. You’re in it.

A/N: There’s going to be more of this!

IDK, @flower-petal-blooming​ @glowingpena​ this is bonkers, sorry.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner One Shot: You Can’t Kid a Kiddo

Intro: It’s April Fools’ Day…and Tony is out to play. Avengers, beware!

Warnings: Bad language, very mild smut...no one gets naked.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

A/N:This is written for @wkemeup​ ‘s  4K Writing Challenge. My prompt was dialogue- “I take zero responsibility for this…”

This takes place in the Stark Spangled Banner timeline in April 2015 just before the events of AOU. Steve and my OFC (Katie Stark- Tony’s sister) have been together for 2 years ish and are engaged at this point as well. There’s also another Easter Egg in here for me to set up another One Shot I’m working on...

You don’t have to have read SSB to understand or enjoy this but feel free to check them out if you so wish. Stark Spangled Banner, and the prequel Stark Spangled Man can both be found here on my Masterlist.

Please re-blog and send me comments/thoughts. That’s my jam!

Steve’s hands were hot on Katie’s hips, gently gripping her bare skin just above her underwear, the top she was wearing riding up slightly. Her bare thighs were straddling his as he gripped her neck, pulling her down for a searing kiss, grinding up against her, the TV programme was long forgotten.

“You know…” he said, pulling back slightly to look at her, one of his hands tangling in the hem of the plaid button down she’d stolen from him to sleep in, as usual “Captain America doesn’t approve of theft.” “Captain America is an ass hole.” she grinned back “Stevie is my favourite.”

He gave a chuckle and leaned back against the sofa cushions, looking at her for a second “How did I get so lucky?” he asked, reaching up to tuck her long hair behind her ears. She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“What’s brought this on?” she asked, her hands sliding up his chest, resting on his shoulders, fingers gently playing with the collar of his polo shirt.

“Nothing.” he said, “Just seeing you before, today, with that reporter, just reminded me about how fierce...” he pressed a kiss to her lips “and loyal…” another kiss “and downright sexy you are when you’re angry…”

“He was a dick.” she mumbled, against his lips, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pulled back to look at him, his fingers gently tracing the outside of her thighs “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t already launched the publicity campaign already…”

“Well it’s big news.” he smiled up at her.

“Of course it will, it’s Harlan Thrombey…” she shrugged “His books are huge!”

“Did you ever get to the bottom of why he’s reached out to SIP to run the next one when he has his own publishing company?” “Oh something to do with his Son annoying him and needing to be taught not to take things for granted.” Katie shrugged “I can ask him that in October when we meet him to go over the final edit and discuss the covers and stuff… but that’s by the by. That ass-hat reporter should have been at the press launch like everyone else, not trying to accost us when we went out for lunch. And what the fuck has whether we’ve set a wedding date got to do with it anyway? Nosey bastard.”

Steve chuckled at her rant and looked at her, his eyes shining. “We haven’t set one though.”

“Yeah well, we’ve kinda had a bit going on.” she said, “Maybe once all this business with the sceptre is sorted we can think about it.” Steve sighed “I know, it’s taking a little longer than we hoped.”

“Well it’s only the end of March.” she shrugged “I’ve always wanted a summer wedding so it’s not…”

She trailed off and Steve saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped open as she looked at him. “Oh shit…”

“Kitten, what is it?” he frowned.

“It’s the 31st March…” she looked at him, swallowing. Steve felt the colour draining from his face "Crap." The reason for their horror was simple. Because, forget Christmas or Thanksgiving, April Fools’ Day was Tony Stark's favourite time of year, as his long suffering sister could testify. When she was a kid, Tony had done the usual stuff. Flour in her talc, washing up liquid in her shampoo, paper shapes of bugs (never spiders though, he wasn't that cruel) in lampshades so when she turned the lights on she'd think she had a huge cockroach in there, that type of stuff. But, as she matured so did the pranks. At one time whilst she had been at the tower for a meeting JARVIS sent her an alert that someone had slashed her tyres in the carpark. She had sprinted outside to see photos of Slash from Guns and Roses struck to the side of her tyres. Another year Tony had hacked her StarkPhone and Laptop and changed the language to Chinese. Of course she couldn't read fucking Chinese to change it back. When she found an agent in SHIELD who did and he reversed it for her, within 30 seconds it had flicked over to Russian. And when she fixed that it became Swedish and so on and so on... Steve had also been the butt of a few pranks since he had known Tony. In 2013 he had fallen for the old toothpaste Oreo trick when a box had arrived for him allegedly from the cookie company themselves after Steve had been papped eating a packet. That had nearly made him sick. And then last year there had been the none stop phone calls asking for Franklin. Every time it was someone different and Steve was getting more and more frustrated as to who exactly Franklin was and why people thought he was on his number. Then, as he and Katie had been on the sofa making out, he'd gotten one last call…

"Leave it..." she said, her hands in his face turning her back to look at him. He kissed her again, hands sliding up the side of her torso, grinding his crotch down onto hers making her purr with delight as her hands strayed to the buckle of his belt, soft fingers gently skimming his abs as she made to undo it, his tongue tangling ferociously with hers as he gave a soft moan of pleasure... But his phone was going again. Katie sighed as he dropped his head to her chest, mumbling a curse. "Unless that’s a Code Red, you can tell whoever it is to fuck off." she said with a frustrated growl, her head flopping back against the cushion as he reached over and answered it, still led over her. "Rogers..." he said sharply. It was another unknown number, but not an unknown voice. "Hi this is Frankin!" Tony greeted him Steve let out a growl of frustration as he realised he had been had. "Have there been..." pause as the inventor laughed "I'm sorry, have there been any calls for me?" "Tony I swear to god!" he spat through gritted teeth as the inventor cackled and hung up. "Your brother is a dick." he looked down at Katie, shaking his head. "Well yeah, I know that…" Katie looked up at her boyfriend "What did he just do?" "Those calls I’ve been getting all day. Asking for Franklin?" He looked at her and she nodded "it was him."

She paused and then let out a laugh “Ok, to be fair, that’s a pretty good one…” “I hate him.” he mumbled, dropping his head back to her chest.

She chuckled again, and ran her fingers through his hair. “Hey, Stevie…wanna get him back?" “How?” Steve queried, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at her.. “Call him...” she grinned, leaning up and nipping at his jaw line softly as he closed his eyes “Leave the phone on the table...” she bucked up under him, wriggling her hips, his trousers feeling uncomfortably tight  again “and let him listen to us make out”

Steve hadn’t done that, because, well frankly the thought of anyone listening to them wasn’t a great turn on in his books so Tony had gone another year of getting away with it.

Simply put, Tony was king of the pranks, and this year he had the entire team at the tower to torment. 

“We should warn the others…” Steve looked at her, and with a sigh she nodded. She untangled herself from him and straightened the legs on her denim shorts.

“JARVIS?” she asked.

“Yes Miss Stark…” “Where are the rest of the team?”

“Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the Common Room.” he spoke “Thor is in his quarters as is Mr Stark and Dr Banner is in the Lab…”

“I’ll text Nat, Clint and Banner.” she said, nodding “Can you go see Thor…he doesn’t have a phone and I’m not asking JARVIS to do it in case Tony catches on…” Steve nodded “Yeah, I’ll pop down and see him now.” Giving her a quick kiss he straightened his pants slightly and headed towards the hidden elevator, selecting the right floor. Thor and Clint shared one of the highest floors in the tower, both preferring to be higher up, closer to the roof but it was still below their’s. Exiting the elevator, he turned left and knocked on the door.

“Captain?” Thor answered and stepped back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” “It’s not strictly pleasure I’m afraid Thor…” Steve sighed “I’m hear with a warning.” “A warning?” he frowned.

“Yeah, you got five minutes? It’s gonna take some explanation.”

***** Tony was giggling to himself as he put the final touches to the last of his pranks, before closing the door to the Lab and heading back to his floor. None of the team were up yet, it was ridiculously early, but the early bird catches the worm and all that. Fuck Killian and his second mouse bullshit. He had been toying with setting it all up the previous evening but he didn’t trust Kiddo and Spangles not to do some kind of recon mission before they went to bed. 

“What have you been doing?” Pepper mumbled to him as he walked back into their dark bedroom.

“Nothing…” he said, with a grin, leaning down to give her a peck.

“Bullshit.” Pepper mumbled against his lips. “It’s April Fools Day…” “Is it?” he said, innocently and she rolled her eyes “JARVIS?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Hey buddy, I need you to set up an alert for me for today. If anyone goes into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my equipment I wanna know about it.”

“Of course Sir.”

Tony grinned as he headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Game on, Avengers...” 

Prank 1.

Steve was the first victim. He and Katie were making their way, cautiously, down to the large meeting room where they were all due to congregate to look over the plans of an abandoned British prison they suspected of being a Hydra base. They made sure to check round each corner before they walked round it, checking up high, low, everywhere.

But there was no avoiding this prank.

Steve pressed his palm to the Biometric Pad on the meeting room door and the pair of them gave a loud yell and a jump as their ears were assaulted by a sudden chorus.

“Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Steve groaned as he pulled open the door, the song echoing through the PA system.

“Who will campaign door to door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Clint and Natasha were stood, poised at the table, both wearing identical looks of astonishment on their faces. They turned to Katie and Steve as they walked into the room, the song still playing.

“We can't ignore there's a threat and a war we must win! Who'll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berlin?”

“I’m assuming this means Cap is the first of us to fall victim to Stark?” Clint asked, his lips quirking into a smile.

“Who will indeed lead the call for America? Who'll rise or fall, give his all, for America?”

“Please tell me it isn’t going to go through a full rendition…” Steve sighed, dropping into a chair.

“Who's here to prove that we can? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Silence. The 4 of them waited with bated breath, but thankfully it had stopped.

“Just the first two verses…” Katie said, sitting next to him. “Suppose we should be grateful.” “Kiddo, you’re as much of a sneak as Tony…” Clint looked at her, as Thor walked into the room. “How come you’ve never managed to get him back?”

“He’s too smart.” she sighed, “I’ve tried and tried before. It doesn’t help that he has JARVIS either, watch this…JARVIS?”

“Yes Miss Stark?”

“Has my brother got an alert going for you to warn him if we try and prank him?” “I couldn’t possibly comment Miss Stark, on whether or not your brother has an alert set up to warn him if you attempt to tamper with any of his equipment…”

Normally she would chuckle at the AIs tone but she was too frustrated with her brother and the seeming lack of loopholes in any of his instructions she could exploit. She leaned back in her chair and gave a huff “See?”

“I could just shock him with some lightning?” Thor suggested

“Think that’s a little harsh.” Steve sighed. 

“See if you still think that by the end of the day when every time you open a door that song starts.” Natasha looked at him.

“What, you think…” Steve looked at her and then gave a groan. “It’s not just gonna be the one door is it?”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Of course it isn’t just one door…” _______

Prank 2.

Bruce was sincerely hoping that whatever inevitable prank Tony was going to pull on him that the Billionaire had been sensible enough not to shock him so far that the Hulk erupted. Bruce had a pretty good hold on him, so he wasn’t too worried but still, you never know.

He made it to his lab in one piece, opened the door and stopped dead.

In front of him on the floor, for about 2 metres square were cups of water. And they were positioned hat close together that there was no space for him to step over in any direction without them spilling all over the floor. Which meant he couldn’t get into the room. Had it been anyone else, they would probably have simply kicked them over, but not Bruce. He was always paranoid about the liquid seeping through the floors and down onto the machinery which looked after the Iron Legion. 

So if he was going to get into the lab, he was going to have to move them one cup at a time. 

“Damned you Tony!” he said with a loud, exasperated sigh “JARVIS? I need a bucket…”

_______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Good luck finding one Brucey…”

_______

Prank 3.

“I don’t think there’s much else to go on…” Steve sighed as the rest of the team finished looking over the plans “We need to get out there and do a recon really.“

“We prepping for another mission then, Cap?” Clint looked at him. Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

“I don’t think we have an alternative.” 

“Ok, well, if we get everything ready we can go at first light tomorrow.” Natasha suggested “I’ll get onto the British Authorities, let them know we’re planning on coming.” “Get Hill onto it” Katie suggested “She’ll go through the UN.”

With that an alert sounded on her phone and she looked down at it. “I gotta go take a conference call but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Steve nodded to her as she stood up and left the room. She made it to her office, safely and swung the door open, pausing just to make sure nothing fell from the door frame. She darted through, took a look round and everything seemed to be in order.

Suspecting Tony of most likely sabotaging her computer or screen, she sat down on her chair and a loud horn sounded causing her to scream and involuntarily he entire body jumped, and her chair toppled backwards. She went with it, arms and legs flailing and she hit the floor with a crash.

After taking a moment to sort herself out she stood up, and looked at the bottom of her chair. There was an Airhorn strapped to the main leg which mean as soon as she had sat down, it would push the handle causing it to sound.

“I know you’re watching this you fucker!” she yelled, spinning round to the CCTV camera and flicking it off “I hate you!”

_____ Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Nice fall Kiddo…”

_______

Prank 4.

Given that there was nothing else to do, Natasha decided to head to the gym, as she did every Tuesday morning, to practice Pilates. It was a routine she tried not to break as it helped her keep supple and relax. Katie sometimes joined her, and surprisingly so did Steve. He said it helped keep his mind clear. 

She knew that the routine made her an easy target for one of Stark’s pranks, but she was damned if he was going to catch her out. She was one of the world’s best spies, no way was he going to get her with some stupid, childish trick.

She entered the room and glanced up and around, checking the corners, you name it. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out at her, and even if they did, she’d floor them- more fool you, Stark, she leaned up against the bench and stretched her legs out.

“Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?”

She spun to see Steve shaking his head as he made his way into the room in his gym gear

“You joining me or hitting the bag?” she asked as they both tried to ignore the song as it continued ringing from the speakers.

“Joining you if that’s ok?” he said, “I went for a run this morning so…” “Sure.” she nodded, and as the song finally stopped they made their way to the store cupboards, picking out their mats. Natasha picked her favoured one, and lay it down on the floor.

As soon as she stepped on it there was a loud popping noise, like a gun going off, and she jumped backwards, dropping to the floor by instinct. 

“Nat…” Steve said, a smile tugging at his lips “It’s ok, it’s not a gun.” Angrily she stood up, stalked over to the mat and pulled it up off the floor. She examined it a little before she gave a snort.

“Bastard!” she exclaimed, slipping her hand into a small, almost invisible hole on the underside. She pulled out a tiny little firecracker, the type that kids used to throw on the floor in front of someone to make a loud bag. “He’s filled my mat with these!” 

______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Even Super Spies get fooled, Romanoff…”

_______

Prank 5 and 6.

Later that day the team met in the common room for lunch. Steve already had a headache from that damned song following him every time he opened a door, Katie was sporting quite a sore elbow after falling harshly on the floor, Bruce was pissed as it had taken him a good hour to get rid of the cups of water, and Natasha was seething at the fact she’d been caught out too.

“I don’t know how you’ve put up with it for your entire life.” Clint said to Katie as he opened the fridge, pulling out a can of his favoured Dr Pepper. He grabbed a glass and a few ice cubes, the way he always like his soda and walked over to where they were all sat on the sofas with various lunch items on the coffee table. He poured the soda into the glass and set it on the table.

“Yeah well, you better be careful.” Katie said “You too Thor, there’s no way he hasn’t set one up for you both.” “I am mighty Little Stark.” Thor grinned, nursing a plate of his favoured chocolate and sugar covered strawberries he had snaffled from a tray in the fridge “it will take more than…” “SHIT!” Clint exclaimed, and with a loud yell they all jumped back as the soda in his glass was exploding over the top with such veracity it was showering them all in the sticky drink. As Steve and Natasha headed to grab some paper towels, Katie marched over to the freezer and yanked out the ice dispenser tray.

“He’s put fucking Mentos in the ice cubes!” she said with a shake of her head. “Jesus Christ…” “You gotta hand it to him.” Bruce sighed, wiping his glasses off on his shirt 

“I’d like to hand it to him.” she mumbled, “with my fist closed.” Thor gave a chuckle and popped a strawberry in his mouth, before he gave a grimace, gagged and spat it back out onto the plate.

“That’s…” he stood up, nearly pushing Steve over in his attempt to get to the sink. 

Katie watched him as he grabbed a glass of water and filled it from the tap. 

“What...” Natasha looked at Bruce who was examining a piece of the fruit, holding it in front of his nose.

“Salt…” Thor mumbled as he rinsed his mouth out “It isn’t sugar, its salt. He put salt on my Chocolate Sugar Fruit!”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Ice Ice baby... not so mighty after all Thunder God.”

_______

*******

“We have to get him back…” Natasha grumbled as they all sat in Katie and Steve’s apartment, having retreated to the relative safety as their living quarters were the one place there was no CCTV, and Katie had the authority to banish JARVIS from earwigging. (Tony had learnt that lesson one day after hearing something he really didn’t want to hear…)

“Believe me I’ve tried.” Katie sighed “And you heard J before, anyone tampers with his equipment and…” She stopped dead. That was it. That was the loophole. With a smirk she looked round the assembled faces. Steve arched an eyebrow at her, he knew that look very well.

“What you thinking?” he asked and she grinned at them all.

“Ok, listen up.” she said, leaning forward. “I have an idea...”

They listened attentively, Clint and Natasha sharing a grin as she outlined her plan whilst Thor slapped his thigh with glee. Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at Banner who was also smiling ear to ear.

“That might just work.” The Doctor said “It’s a pretty good loophole, and we have the stuff in the lab so…” “I’ll need a distraction.” Katie said, “something that’s gonna draw Tony out of his office for long enough for me to do it but…” “That’s easy.” Thor said, “I’m sure I can cause a good deal of noise in the Training Facility, break a few things with my hammer…”

“Fry something.” Steve said, looking round “If you do that then JARVIS won’t be able to fix it remotely, Tony’s gonna have to get his hands dirty.”

“You all know what you’re doing?” Katie grinned as everyone nodded. “Ok, Avengers, let’s do this…“

Operation Payback.

Tony heard the bang seconds before JARVIS spoke

“Mr Stark…”

“What the hell was that?”

“There’s been an incident in the Training Suite.”

“Course there has…” Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation at how stupid they thought he was. He wasn’t falling for a distraction like that. “Where is everyone?” “Miss Stark, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the shooting range.” Jarvis informed them. Doctor Banner was in his lab, although it appears he is now making his way down to the Training Facility to find out what’s going on. Captain Rogers is already there as is Thor.”

“What’s the incident?”

“It appears Thor has struck the speakers and the access pad with a bolt of lightning.” JARVIS replied “I’m currently assessing the damage but as a result he is locked in. And he isn’t happy.” Tony gave an exasperated groan and pushed his chair from his desk. “Suppose I best go see if I can help…remember what I said, anyone comes in here and tampers with my equipment…” “Of course, Sir…”

When Tony arrived Thor was kicking the door to the training facility, waving his hammer irately.

“Thor!” Steve was stood by the glass, attempting to calm him down. “Don’t buddy, we’ll get you out of there…” “I can get myself out…” Thor blazed, raising his hand and Tony blanched at the fact Thor was threatening to send his hammer straight through the wall. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the walls and glass to get damaged but they’d only just had it replaced after Steve and Thor had been practicing using Steve’s shield and Mjolnir to cause an outwards blasting shockwave. 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, and Steve spun to him shooting him a glare.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on…” Thor roared “That infernal song…”

His hammer crackled ominously again and Tony looked back to Steve.

“He was fed up of hearing Star Spangled Man With A Plan ringing out every goddamned time I opened a door.” Steve folded his arms “So he lost his temper. And I can’t say I blame him.” “We’ve talked about this.” Tony looked at Thor “You need to use your words buddy…” “Words, I’ll give you more than words, Stark!” Thor roared “Now get me out of here!”

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, looking at the pad on the door. “Damage report?”

“The Circuit is completely fried Sir.” JARVIS said “I cannot access or override, you will need to do it manually.”

“Great…” Tony mumbled “Let me just go get my tools from the lab.” Mumbling to himself he set off down the corridor and once he was gone, Thor grinned and tossed his hammer in the air as he gave Steve and Banner the thumbs up before he caught it expertly again in his right hand.

“Good job!” Steve nodded with a smile as he pulled his phone out and dialled Katie quickly. “You’re up.” 

****

It took Tony roughly 30 minutes to replace the wires and unlock the door. Thor stormed out, pushed him harshly in the chest before he left down the corridor.

“Guess they don’t have April Fools’ day on Asgard.” Tony mumbled, rubbing at the front of his shirt.

“To be honest Tony, it’s pretty annoying.” Bruce sighed “Can you at least turn it off now, I mean its almost 2 in the afternoon.” “Yeah I suppose…” Tony sighed, before he grinned “it was a pretty good one though, right.” “Hilarious.” Steve deadpanned, his hands falling to his belt buckle. Tony flashed him a grin and a shrug before he gathered up his tools and made his way back down the corridor.

“JAR?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Turn off Prank Spangles will you, before anyone else breaks more of my tower.”

“Right away Sir.” “And I’m assuming from the lack of contact no one’s been in my office tampering with my equipment?” “That’s correct sir.” “Today has been a good day.” Tony grinned to himself.

Once he was back in his office he sat down at his chair, and went through his emails quickly. He absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which felt a little dry to be honest. But he hadn’t oiled it since that morning. Reaching into his drawer he grabbed the small bottle, tipped a good amount onto his hand and spread it across the expertly groomed whiskers before he continued with his work. It took him a few hours but he cleared his inbox and then decided it was time to face the music. Heading down to the common room he found the rest of the team lounging in front of the TV. They were watching Kitchen Nightmares. 

“S’up Kids?” he asked and none of them looked at him. “Ok, alright, I know…sorry if I pranked you but if I buy takeout will that make you forgive me?”

No answer.

“Oh come on!” Tony said, crossing the room, sinking into a spare arm chair. “I’ll get Thai…"

The team exchanged glances before Bruce gave a sigh. He was always the one to cave first, the mild mannered Scientist found it hard to stay outwardly angry, which was ironic when anyone thought about it.

“To be fair, that trick with the water was pretty clever.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, and I suppose the salt strawberries were a little amusing.” Thor said, looking at Katie.

She shrugged, her feet resting in Steve’s lap as he was gently running his fingers up and down her calf.

“Oh come on Kiddo…”  Tony sighed, flopping onto an arm chair.  

“Payback’s a bitch…and so are you.”  she said simply, still not looking at him.

“You’ve never managed to get me back yet.” Tony snorted.

At that point he noticed that Natasha and Clint exchanging smirks. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clint said, shaking his head.

“I like your beard” Thor said, grinning “I have always admired how you keep it so neat and groomed. Maybe I should trim mine the same way.” Tony frowned. “Oh is this the part where you pin me down and shave it?” he rolled his eyes “You know I can call my suit to me in like 5 seconds flat.” “We know.” Steve said simply, looking at him. Tony’s frown deepened. The way the Captain’s blue eyes were shining with mirth made him uncomfortable.

He looked round as 6 pairs of eyes were all completely focussed on him now before Katie cracked up laughing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t hold…” her laughter grew more and more as she threw her head back against the arm of the sofa “You look ridiculous…” Tony frowned and without a word stood up from the chair and made his way to the bar to glance in the mirrored surface between the shelves.

Oh. Holy. Jesus.

His goatee. His beautiful goatee...was blonde.

He spun round and the rest of the guys in the room cracked up laughing. Steve had his head thrown back, right hand clutching at his chest as Katie wiped tears from her face whilst Natasha doubled over on her seat. Besides her Clint slapped his thigh, his chuckles loud.

“What…how…” Tony spluttered, looking again at his reflection, before he glared back at the group.

“Slipped a little peroxide in your beard oil…” Katie managed to stutter between laughs, Thor’s loud rumbles continued, punctuated every now and then by a snort from Banner.

“JARVIS!” Tony roared “I told you to tell me if anyone went into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my stuff…” "I take zero responsibility for this...sir” The AI responded “And I believe your instruction was to alert you if anyone entered your office or the garage or anywhere in the tower and messed with your equipment. Technically Miss Stark didn't touch your equipment, only your Male grooming product. I believe they exploited a loophole.” That made the group laugh even harder as Tony went bright red, spluttering obscenities at JARVIS. Eventually he calmed down and sighed, before he glanced at his sister.

“You know I’m almost proud…” he said, shaking his head. “Almost…”

Katie gave him a wink in response. “You know what they say…you can’t kid a kidder, or in this case Kiddo…”

Tony gave a groan which turned into a resigned chuckle. He could always dye it back...

Yes, April Fools’ day was still Tony Stark’s favourite time of year.

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[truegodofthearena]

Bridgerton! Plus one other fandom of your choice!

My answers are based on the Netflix show only, not the books. 

Top 5 favourite characters: Anthony, Siena, Daphne, Eloise, Lady Danbury Other characters you like: Marina, Benedict, Simon, Penelope, The Prince, Sir Philip  Least favourite characters: Violet, Nigel, Mr Featherington Otps: Anthony/Siena  Notps: Siena/unhappiness Favourite friendships: Eloise/Penelope Favourite family: Siena/Geneviève (yes, they count as a family). I’m very divided on the Bridgerton family so far, I liked some dynamics but not all.   Favourite episodes: An affair of honor, After the rain  Favourite season/book/movie: only 1 season so far :D Favourite quotes: Umm, every time Anthony earnestly says “Siena” - does that count? Best musical moment: Siena singing in that pale dress with tears in her eyes Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: I think its either the scene where Anthony decides to spend his last night before the duel with Siena and his pleas to her, where she’s really conflicted, but then gives in to her feelings. OR that scene between Daphne and Simon where they’re talking about his mother’s favorite painting and how it reminds her of the countryside. I found that scene very touching and tender.  When it really disappointed you: Penelope ruining Marina by exposing her.  Saddest moment: Anthony and Siena’s break up, for sure. Also when Daphne gets her period during the concert and breaks down.  Most well done character death: Uh, Simon’s dad. Simon’s last words to him were just *chef’s kiss* - its what he deserved to hear after how he treated Simon Favourite guest star: the Prince - want a decent cinnamon roll  Favourite cast member: I haven’t really seen any interviews to form an opinion. But I guess Jonathan Bailey seems fun from the gifs I have seen of him behind the scenes ?  Character you wish was still alive: Simon’s mom  One thing you hope really happens: Anthony and Siena find their way back to each other despite the rules of society forcing them apart? One can dream lol. I’m sorry they have such amazing chemistry, its the endgame we deserve :D Most shocking twist: Penelope revealing the truth about Marina to the world. Still not over that.  When did you start watching/reading? Few weeks back Best animal/creature: i don’t remember seeing any?  Favourite location: Siena’s room because that’s where Santhony get to be themselves and leave the troubles of the world behind. It’s their HAPPY place.  Trope you wish they would stop using: Forced romances. The whole idea of marriage being the only choice because you were caught in an embrace or whatever is so ridiculous. Let the people marry those they love ffs. Also introduce more options for the elite women other than marriage?  One thing this show/book/film does better than others: Representation and costumes  Funniest moments: The stove scene and Daphne’s snorting laughs at the Prince Couple you would like to see: Anthony/Siena - can’t get enough obviously  Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: Keira Knightley :D Favourite outfit: almost all of them - hard to pick  Favourite item: i loved the jewelry the women were wearing in the show  Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: Netflix subscription? lol  What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: Would follow Siena and her talented butt anywhere  Most boring plotline: The financial crisis of the Featheringtons?  Most laughably bad moment: anytime Violet decided to set Anthony up lol - she needed a new set of eyes and perspective  Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Simon’s backstory  Most layered character: Anthony, he screwed up most of all, but he tried to made amends and grew throughout the season, so I enjoyed seeing that evolution.  Most one dimensional character: Violet - she just wants her kids to marry and have babies, even at the cost of their own happiness.  Scariest moment: When i didn’t know what the hell Marina was going to do after the reveal. Oh and that moment where they made it look like she was dead Grossest moment: Violet pushing ladies in front of Anthony as he’s looking at Siena, and she’s right fucking there? Also, Simon prioritizing his hatred for his very much dead dad over his love for Daphne. Couldn’t buy that and it was disappointing.  Best looking male: Anthony Best looking female: Siena, Marina, Cressida Who you’re crushing on (if any): Santhony  Favourite cast moment: no idea, haven’t seen enough of the cast stuff Favourite transportation: horseback, what’s a period drama without that Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): Anthony and Siena’s last bedroom scene where they’re happy and laughing, dancing and so in love.  Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: well i ship santhony so you tell me lol. I feel the way this relationship was set up, its hard to top that, if you want the audience to root anthony with someone else next season? We shall have to see.  Best promo: For me, they were the santhony gifs on tumblr that made me start the show in the first place. Thanks to @sienarosso At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: I think after he broke up with Siena, all the times Anthony felt that angst? lol. I was like A++++ material, its what i’m here for. Also, the costumes and sets really sold the show to me. Even if the story is not appealing at times, the visual aspect of the show is so pretty, you just want to watch it. 

@therubbleoroursins thanks for asking ! omg this got so long, i’m afraid i’ll only do this one for now and maybe another show later. Will tag you :)

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 11

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8. pt 9. pt 10.

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her.

Jane and Catherine decide to have a talk. Things go downhill.

Thomas needed to know where Jane was. As soon as he heard Henry had been arrested, he was certain this was his chance to have his best friend’s fiancee all to himself. She didn't deserve any of the shit Henry had put her through. She was beautiful and kind. She had a once heart of gold, now turned heart of stone. He was determined to bring back her heart of gold. Unlike Henry, Thomas thought he knew exactly what she deserved: not Henry, not the situation she was put in, none of it. After a day and a half of laying low, he had done all he could to find information on Jane, but there wasn’t much of anything to work with. The young man knew what he was doing was borderline obsessive, but he had to find her- had to make sure she was safe and taken care of. Slowly, he picked up the phone.

“John, can you get the phone please? I’m in the middle of making dinner.”

“Yes dear.” He scrambled to find the phone. “This is John.”

“Hey John. It’s Thomas. How are you?”

“Better now that I know your asshole of a friend is locked away.”

“Do you know where she is? Or if she’s coming home any time soon?”

“I’m really not sure, and I’m not sure I should be giving any of this information to you.”

“I’m just trying to make sure Jane’s safe sir.”

“She is. Man, what I would’ve given for Janey to end up with someone like you instead,” John let slip. He knew he didn’t mean it. He wanted Jane and Catherine together. But at the moment, his mouth worked faster than his brain.

“Really? Huh, I never thought about it that way,” he feigned surprise.

“Yeah I-” There was a loud crash from the kitchen that interrupted John’s train of thought. “I have to go check on my klutz of a wife. Bye.” John jogged to the kitchen to see Margaret on the floor laughing.

“You’re an idiot.” He offered a hand to help her up.

Back at the house, Jane and Catherine sat down to talk without the rest of the women. What they didn’t know was that the other four had clumped themselves together just outside the bedroom to try to listen in on their private conversation.

“How much of that conversation did you really hear?” Catalina’s face was already bright red, and it was only becoming moreso.

“What conversation?” Anne whispered. The others shrugged.

“Just enough to know that whatever you’re planning, my parents know.”

“Shit. You really weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Honestly Catherine,” Jane started, missing the chill that shot down Catherine’s spine. The blonde never called her by her full first name. She knew this was serious. “I can’t look for a relationship right now, and you know that. I need to have all of my attention on the baby growing inside of me.”

“Of course I know that. I told you, I can wait. What I said last night- I meant it. I want to just be here for you and the baby. It’s not like I want to date right now and overwhelm you with a new relationship if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I know, but that’s not possible for you to ‘just be there for the baby’. If you’re here, I know I’m going to fall in love with you all over again and-”

“Again?” Catherine’s face gave away how surprised she was to find out that Jane Seymour was in love with her at one point or another.

“Lina, that’s not the point. I can’t fall in love with you again. I just can’t,” she sighed exasperatedly. “The baby, he or she, doesn’t deserve to grow up in the strange situation we’re finding ourselves in. Oh god, I can’t even believe I’m in this situation: having a baby as a single mother where the father is absent and having a mother who is a complete and utter mess. Maybe I shouldn’t bring a baby into this world. Maybe I should just-”

“What are you thinking?” Catherine cut her off in fear of what she was going to say.

“It’s not too-”

“Jane, please tell me you’re not thinking about getting rid of it.”

“It’s my decision Catherine. Not yours,” she choked out. “Do you know how hard this is already? My life has taken so many turns in the past few months, and I’m so much more fucked up than I already was. I don't want to and can't fuck up someone else’s life because I’m not capable of being a mother yet. Can we just leave it alone? I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“You can't just say something like that and then not finish the conversation! Do you understand how ridiculous that is? We have to talk about this!”

“No! We don’t have to do anything. This is my life, and I’m so sorry I dragged you into the shitshow. Leave if you want, or I can leave. I don’t really care anymore.”

“You don’t mean that. Go cool down. We’ll- you’ll,” Catherine quickly corrected herself. “figure this out, and I will be as involved or uninvolved as you want. Jane stood from the bed and flung the door open, only to have Anne Boleyn crash at her feet with all of the other women eyeing her rather sheepishly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jane yelled. “Don’t you guys know that was a personal conversation? If we had wanted you listening in, we would have talked in the living room. But no, you guys just had to butt into our personal lives as usual and-”

“Jane, please don’t be-” Kat started.

“Don’t be what Katherine? Mad?” Jane shot back icily. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not,” Anna stated defiantly as she grabbed Jane’s arm, preventing her from going any farther.

“What the hell do you mean Anna?” Jane tried to rip her arm out of Cleve’s grip.

“You’re in hiding. You’re not leaving without any of us with you.”

“You just think you have it all figured out Anna? Don’t you? I’m a meek and mild, broken woman who can’t handle herself on her own, right? Is that what you think of me? Is that what I am to you? Do you all think you just need to walk on eggshells with me because if you don’t I might break into a million pieces? I’m not. I can do what I-”

“You can do what you want, but that means we can also do what we want. And we want to protect you. If you want to go out somewhere, one of us is going with you,” Cathy tried to reason with the furious blonde.

“I’ll go with you if you really need to get out of the house,” Kat offered hesitantly. Seeing Jane angry was a scary thing.

“It’s fine. No one has to go with her. She can have the room.” Catherine marched herself out of the room. Cathy and Anna followed. Jane went back into the room and sat on the bed but left the door open.

“Jane, I’m really-”

“Anne, I’d really rather not talk about this to you right now.” Anne left the area with her head hung low.

“Do you want some company though?” Kat offered shyly, playing with the pink ends of her hair. “We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to,” she added quickly, hoping her new found friend would allow her to stay. Jane looked up at her with tears in her eyes, the piercing blue color now standing out to Katherine.

“Please.” Her voice was small, but it was easily heard.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. Just let me say this,” Cleves sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Jane wiped at the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you two.”

“You had every right to snap at us. What you said was true; we were listening in on a conversation you clearly wanted to be private.”

“But-”

“There’s no buts Seymour. I’m sorry, and I’m sure Kat is too. I’ll go now and let you two have some time.” Anna left the area.

“How did you get the money for bail Tudor?”

“I called in a few favors, not that it's any of your business.” He flipped off the security guard on his way to freedom. “I need to find her, and no one can stop me now,” he muttered to himself.

“Jane?” Catherine knocked on their bedroom door gently. She was met with no response. The hispanic pushed the door open and saw Jane watching the television quietly with Katherine curled around her. When she got no response, she made her way over and made herself as small as possible.

“Okay, I understand that you need your space away from me. Dinner’s in the oven and ready to eat. You too Kat.” She kissed the top of the blonde’s hair softly before walking away, failing to notice the tears threatening to fall in Jane’s eyes.

“I should probably get some food and take it to my room. I think you two need to talk.” Kat began to stand up.

“Wait,” Jane sighed and reached her hand out. When the younger woman stopped in her tracks and held her hand, Jane whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what it’s worth Jane, we would do anything to keep you safe. You’re part of this family now. Your baby too.” Kat offered a small smile and a light hand squeeze.

Jane waited a few minutes before walking down the stairs and into the empty kitchen aside from Catherine who was undoubtedly waiting for the blonde to make an appearance.

“Are you okay?” Jane shook her head no as she quickly made her way to the counter where the food was laid out. “Do you want to talk?”

She kept her back turned to Catherine but answered with a raspy voice, “I thought I was ready, but I think I need a few more minutes.” Catherine nodded her head but stayed put at her station at the table. The tears continued to pour as Jane prepared her dinner and brushed by the other woman as she went to get to her seat at the table.

Catherine’s heart broke as she noticed the tears, but stayed glued in her chair nonetheless. Jane sat quietly, not looking in Catalina’s direction.

“If you need me, I’ll be in our room,” Catherine sighed, feeling the sense that her presence was not wanted. She heard Jane sigh in relief once she was gone from the kitchen.

When the older woman left, Jane knew it was her fault. She didn’t want to push her away, but she couldn’t help it. Jane sighed a heavy sigh, knowing she was going to break at any moment.

“Lina?” she whispered into the empty kitchen, but she was already gone. In desperation, she pulled out her phone and called the one person she knew would listen to her no matter what.

“Daddy?” She began to cry to her father.

“Janey honey, listen. I know you’re scared an-”

“Dad, I’m terrified. I keep snapping at all the girls, and I’m pushing Lina away. I think I’m in love with her, but I told her I couldn’t fall in love with her again, but I don’t want to lose that feeling. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing,” she rambled into the phone.

“First off, language.”

“Dad, I said hell.”

“Yes, but it still doesn’t feel right hearing your child curse. You’ll know the feeling someday. You’re still my baby. Do you want my advice?” She nodded as if her father was able to see her. When he didn’t hear an audible response, he assumed, “I’m going to take a guess and say you were nodding your head?” Jane laughed despite the tears.

“Alrighty dear. You never change, you know that? You always did that, even when you were little. It took me so long to figure out your silence, and I only figured it out because you did it to your mother one day,” he laughed as he remembered the days of a young Jane nodding into the phone enthusiastically. “You were such a cute kid.”

“Dad, advice, remember?”

“Right. I had no clue what I was doing when I met Mom. God, I really had no idea. Mom had a boyfriend, and I fell absolutely in love with her before I even knew what was happening. I couldn’t do anything about it though, and that was the worst feeling ever. I felt so helpless. Eventually, I think she knew she was in love with me too, but she was still dating the other man at the time. I took a leap of faith though. I found out the day I told her I loved her that she had broken up with the guy three weeks before. God, I hated that man so much. Your mother put up with so much shit because of that man. She never deserved to be treated that way. Anyway, I had no clue what I was doing when we first started dating. I had never had a girlfriend before, but I knew she was the one. Then, your sister came along when Mom was twenty, and we really had no idea what she was doing. Liz turned out alright though I guess. And then, after fifteen years, you came along. You were a blessing. After so many years though, we forgot how we did it with Lizzy. Don’t tell your sister, but you were and are the second best blessing in my life. Of course, your mother is the first. I’m still so in love with that woman. Lizzy is a blessing, but we never connected the way the two of us do. So uhm, the moral of the story is that I know you don’t know what the hell is going on, and it’s scary. I know it is. But sometimes you need to take a leap of faith. Sometimes, it turns out to be the best thing that could ever happen to you.”

“Thank you Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too honey. Be careful, and trust your gut.” John was met with silence. “Do you really think you’re falling in love with her?”

“Keep this between us? Not even Mom can know.”

“Of course princess.”

“She makes me feel things I never did with Henry. I only stayed with him because I thought I had to. I didn’t want to let you, Mom, or his family down.” John was shocked.

“Do you really think we could ever be disappointed in you because you realized what you’re worth and what you deserve?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. You put it that way, and it sounds so stupid.”

“I can't speak for Henry’s parents, but Mom and I would never be disappointed in you for wanting true love instead of something that feels forced.”

“Okay Dad. I should go. I’m getting kind of sleepy. I’ll keep in mind what you said. Have a nice night with Mom. Love you both.”

“We love you too.” John hung up the phone and ran to the kitchen knowing that’s where he would find his wife.

“Hey, so I just got off the phone with our daughter.”

“Lizzy called, and I didn’t get to talk to her? John, she calls once every three months!” She threw her hands up in frustration.

“No no. The other one. She’s terrified. She’s in the ‘I’m pregnant and in love with someone who isn’t my baby daddy’ mindset. I gave her some fatherly advice though.” He smiled smugly.

“What could you have possibly said to make her feel better?”

John slowly moved Margaret’s arms around his neck and placed his hands on her hips before smirking. “I just told her how terrified we were. I told her how I took a chance, and that chance gave me the three greatest things in my life.”

“God John. You still know just what to say.” She stood on her toes to kiss the tip of his nose.

“After all these years, I still fall in love with you more and more. I just want our Janey to have a love like ours.”

“Me too.”

“Jane,” Catherine sighed in front of the mirror, practicing her speech. “I don’t want to upset you, but we need to talk. I know you’re scared and- god. That’s so dorky. You’re so stupid. Just-”

“Having trouble?” Cathy appeared in the doorway.

“I just want things to be right between me and Janey.”

“Just give it time Cath. Good things take time.”

“Twelve years isn’t enough time?” The older cousin shot back.

“Good things take time,” she repeated. “I have to get back to writing, but remember that.” Cathy disappeared.

Jane had settled on the living room couch to watch television late into the night but almost immediately fell asleep. When Anne wandered downstairs for her late night snacking, she was shocked to see the television’s bright lights and a blonde figure sound asleep.

“Jane?” She shook the woman gently. “Do you think you might want to go to bed? It might be more comfortable?”

“Anne?” She sat up in her hazy state and patted the spot next to her.

“Give me a minute to find a snack. You want anything?”

“Yogurt?” The woman in green disappeared into the kitchen before returning with a yogurt and bag of chips.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping earlier.”

“It’s alright. I know you guys are just curious, and I’ve dragged you all into the craziest situation.”

“It was still wrong of us, and it was my idea. I’m really sorry Jane.”

“Of course it was your idea,” Jane sighed good heartedly. “I should’ve known.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad anymore. It’s okay.” The two sat in silence for a while, watching whatever silly game show was being broadcast. After a while, Jane heaved herself up from the sofa.

“I think I’m going to head to bed. Do you want the tv on still or?”

“I should probably head to bed too.” The blonde clicked off the television.

“I don’t want to intrude on the conversation earlier, but between you and me, I think you should keep it. I also think you should give you and Cath a try. You’re practically dating as it is.” Anne retired to her room for the night. Jane sighed, knowing the truth in Boleyn’s statement, and continued on to the bedroom.

Sinking into their bed, she sighed, “Hey,” fulling knowing Catherine wasn’t asleep.

“Hey.” She rolled over and pulled Jane close.

“I’m sorry. I was crazy, and I’ll try to stay more in check. I want you to be in this baby’s life,” Jane paused. “As it’s mother. I just don’t think we can be a couple- not right now at least. I know we act like it, but I’m not ready to put a label on it and add all of that pressure. I’m sorry.”

“That’s really not the issue. It’s perfectly fine honey. Just know I am always going to be here for you. As a friend or more, or whatever you want me to be or do, I’ll be or do it.”

“I love you Lina.” Jane curled into the other woman and drifted to sleep.