#and having all of my thoughts basically shoved out the door under “those would be structural changes and impossible to do”

[zeena-athena]

Man I love apparently talking in such a way that no one gets what I'm saying, or acts like I'm talking in a different language or conversation to them. It makes me feel so fucking loved and cared for. I am succeeding at communication and definitely do not want to throw myself into the nearest lake and become the next bog witch. Never ever. /s

[user946468]

NSFW Alphabet - Chishiya Shuntaro and Niragi Suguru

Chishiya Shuntaro x reader | Niragi Suguru x reader

I swear this is my last one.. I should be updating my fic soon, but these are a lot more fun than I thought lol + adding songs from my favorite album that remind me of them. Also feel free to request any aib characters you want me to do a NSFW alphabet for!

Warning- Un-consensual sex, gore, ect.. basically Niragi being himself.

Niragi Suguru

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare? What's that? Your lucky if he even spares the time to lay with you after. Doesn't offer to clean you up after, or asks if you're okay.. maybe he'll take a shower with you after, but only if he gets a second round during it. After all, he loves the idea of his cum still being in you hours after.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his dick, obviously. I mean, what would he do without it? He gets a kick out of his tongue piercing too, did you know they make vibrating one's? Not that he thinks he needs it to make you cum, but its a nice surprise. Niragi loves your ass and tits, basic - but not surprising. He's a perverted male after all.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Obsessed with it. Painting every inch of your body with it, fucking it deeper into you, using it as lube, making you suck him completely dry- don't even think about spitting any of it out, he will make you lick it back up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not much of a secret but he's a borderline sadist. Bondage, blood, knife play, he's into it all! He enjoys causing pain, inflicting it, making you feel completely helpless, fully at his will. He tie a chain to your neck like a dog, pulling it harder each time you tighten around him- shoving the nozzle of his rifle down your throat with the safety off, finger hovering over the trigger.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's fucking people left and right, what do you think? He chases after his own pleasure always, your own is rarely on his mind - but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to cum. In fact if you don't, he thinks its a disrespect to his performance. If you don't, that means he'll pull out ever trick in the book until you cum- different positions, different rhythms, hitting every angle of your walls until he finds the spot that makes you shiver- bonus points if your orgasm is involuntary.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he has you fully in control. Tied up, laying under his body weight, being constrained to him- it's not like you have a choice anyways. If he wasn't working in front of an audience, he will have his rifle at stand by at all time with several locks on his door.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Of course he'll laugh, he's doing one of his favorite things! He'll laugh at how pitiful you look, the sorrow on your face, your pained groans- but you laughing? Are you trying to get shot? He'll think your laughing at him, after all why would you be laughing with him? Your laughing will turn into pained wails soon enough.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed, most of the time. Although he has no problem letting it grow out if he's lazy enough, and if you don't like it? Who cares! Your opinion doesn't mean anything to him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a murder rapist. Anything romantic is off the tables. The only thing he knows is the pure bliss of getting his dick wet. Now, if somehow you are able to squeeze past those thick ass walls Niragi has built around his heart- maybe if you treated him like an actual person, anything other than a rabid dog that needs to be put down- than maybe, he'll focus on if your enjoying yourself or not. The most romantic thing he'll do if whisper fabricated praises and encouragements in your ear- or asking if your up to try something different, he won't take no for an answer and if you ask him to stop he'll ignore you- but Niragi will give you a minute or too to calm down before going back at it. That's about as sentimental as he can be.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Funny. What the hell would you be for if he could just jerk off? The closest thing to self pleasure as he would do is getting off on your underwear, and that's only if your there watching- he'll make you wear the stained pair after too. Something about watching you stroll around the beach, talking with friends and just living your life in general while wearing something so personal that were smeared with his cum always made his dick twitch.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

What isn't he into is the real question. He'll get hard at the slight glance at you drenched in someone else's blood after a game- knowing you fought so hard to stay alive just to come crawling back to him. To his dick. He likes when you cry, when your covered in bruises and scars made by him, when you stare at him, claw at his back, try to fight him off- he loves it all.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere! At anyyy time! He has a love hate relationship with fucking in public. On one hand, he gets to watch as people scowl in horror, shoving what they can't have in their faces, putting you on display like he was wearing a designer coat. On the other, why do they deserve to see you in such a state? One specifically made for him to see? They shouldn't get to hear you while you reach your climax, perverted fuckers would probably use it to jerk off!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The adrenaline rush of the games mixed with rounds of rough sex after? Fucking life changing. That's when his stamina is at its highest, high chance you wont be able to walk properly for a few days after.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you try to act dominant, he will smack the shit out of you and force you to switch positions or he'll get soft in seconds. That doesn't mean he wont let you ride him or you cant give him small praises (although it will take him awhile to fell normal about it) but calling his a good boy or asking to peg him? He'll stare at you with disgust, waiting for you to laugh and say your fucking with him. If you don't, he'll make you say it either way for his sake.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Its more like throat fucking than an actual blow job. He's obsessed with the way you don't try and move when he's ball deep in your throat, you know better. Even if your gagging and huffing heavily through your nose, light headed and tense- all you can do stare through heavy-lidded eyes, silently waiting for it too end. Niragi also refuses to let you touch yourself during times like this, the way you desperately shuffle your hips back and forth against nothing always makes him smile. As for you, Niragi is well adjusted to female anatomy. He'll twirl his tongue, lick, suck, push- try anything to see what makes you gasp. Niragi surprisingly doesn't mind eating you out, especially when your so overstimulated you not sure what part of him in rubbing your clit.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

Slow in not in Niragi's vocabulary. It's always hard, always quick, and always rapid. If he wan't to tease you, he'll pull out completely before you climax, or rub himself along your entrance letting himself play with your clit before pushing inside you. Rarely ever with prep.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he must, he will. Made militants bring you to his room only to be called to a meeting a minute later? He'll try to bring you too, making you sit on his lap. Groping you in front of everyone, licking down your neck and kneeing between your legs. If he has to suffer the wait, so do they. That is if Aguni lets it pass, if not he'll fuck your throat and finish in seconds. Niragi can hold off for hours if he really wants too, but in situations like this he'll cum early. Plus, he knows you'll still be there when he's back, cause he won't let you leave.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

As long as its nothing putting him in "a pussy situation" as he calls it, he's all for it! Want him to pour hot wax on you? Why didn't you ask so sooner? He will even let the wax get hot enough to leave marks, spelling his name across your waist. He almost cums in his pants when you ask him to fuck you with his gun, safety off and fully loaded.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

However many until he's satisfied. Five, two, eight- depends on the day. If he feels nice he'll move to your mouth instead of your pussy after a few rounds, but only if you beg hard enough. Like I said before, he can edge himself for hours on end, making you climax for the fourth time by his first.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Not toys necessarily.. but he'll use unconventional items as sex toys if there close by. Fucking you against the beaches communal dryer, making sure your clit is pressed tightly against the edge of the metal. A candle sick as a butt plug, his boxers as a homemade gag, making you fuck yourself with a knifes handle. He doesn't need any toys, your body is enough for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eighty percent of your time spent together is Niragi edging you on, asking you how bad you want him before suddenly moving a few steps away, removing what ever form of contact you had and smugly watching your body arch towards him, begging for some form of contact. "Oh you poor baby," he'd say with mock sincerity, "Missing something?"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

He's loud and proud. Most grunts and moans, maybe a small whimper here and there but usually under his breath, like he's trying to hide them. He's a man after all, not a sex machine. Surprising, I know. The whole time he's verbal, dialogue never ending- he doesn't even seem to be speaking to you directly sometimes, more like to himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Enjoys anal and somnophilia (sleeping people). Anal is rare nonetheless, he needs to make sure your properly clean first- going as far as timing how long your in the shower. Anything less than five minutes? Get you ass back in there. Although its more taxing, knowing that your full of his cum in every way possible is worth it. Somnophilia makes his job easier. Simple as that. If your always tense and trying to reject him for entering you, why wouldn't he find you when your the most relaxed, most willing - to take you completely. The ease to push himself in you just to tighten a moment later, while fully emerged, sends an nice twitch to his dick.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Niragi's cocky, and for good reason. He's eight inches while hard, not the thickest but enough girth to make you wince. A light pink going into a harsh red at the tip, raging veins and slightly tilted to the left. He's overly proud of himself.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

On his mind every day- which, are we really surprised? In the morning, at night, during games, in meetings, while shoving a gun in front of a members face, seeing you cry and covered in blood after a game- even if its not his main concern, the idea is always wafting around in his brain. For your sake I hope you match his freak...

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Are you kidding? Sex gives him an energy boost like no other. He's seconds away from jumping around the pool, shooting and fighting people just for the fun of it - hell, he might even join a game early. So, sorry, no cute sleeping together after.

Chishiya Shuntaro

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Quiet. Maybe a grunt while wiping himself up and getting dressed, other than that he's non-verbal. Glances at you here and there, and if you don't clean yourself up he'll ask if you want him too- you always say yes and he always complies. He'll leave wordlessly after, at least for the first few times. If your close enough to be comfortable after the fact- than he'll stay in bed, and after his momentary silence will start spewing whatever analytical thoughts are coming to him. He always gets philosophical after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chishiya doesn't have a 'favorite' per say, he thought it was foolish- why would he have sex with you if he didn't like every part of you physically? And sure, he might enjoy the way your bikini top pushes your breast together a little to much. Or how easily your neck bruises and the feeling of your heartbeat escalating under his lips- but that doesn't mean he enjoys anything else about you any less. Once you asked, and he stared at you like you were dumb. "Why? So you can boast about it?" He asked, "So you do have a favorite! Honest, ass or tits guys?" As for himself.. he thought he was fine. Attractive enough to cause glances his way, and nothing close to ugly. Chishiya wouldn't go as far as too praise his himself, but he was comfortable being naked in others company.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ehh.. it's a thing? No real opinion. Doesn't hate it doesn't love it- although he can appreciate it's side use as lube. As cold and restrained as he was mentally, his dick majorly missed the memo. Endless amounts of pre-cum and involuntary dick twitches whenever you so much as breathed on it. But like he said it could be useful.. especially when fucking your breasts. But he swears he doesn't care for either ass or tit any more than he says.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Loves the chase as much as actually having sex. Watching you from afar, prolonged eye contact, seeing how you react to the slight cleavage of his chest when he rolls his zipper down, to his hovering hand by your thigh. It heightens his senses, makes it harder to not want to touch you, not allowing him to see you- after all he has a habit of refusing himself what he wants.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a doctor, therefor knows his way around female anatomy. Where certain pressure points are located, where to find your clit, how to position himself in just the right way to make the heat in your stomach grow. As experienced as any normal guy, not a virgin with a body count under five- although it hardly shown as much. He could've told you he had four current fuck-buddies telling him exactly what too do and you wouldn't be surprised.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doesn't have one. Dumb question. If he's fucking you, he's in you anyways right? He lets the situation speak for itself. Your sitting on his lap? He'll guide your hips to ride him. He ends up on top of you- missionary it is. Never would he ever make you go into some obscene position to get his dick sucked a certain way, or too get a quarter inch deeper into you. Their horrible for your joints and muscles, and why would he want to tire you out so soon?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Chishiya's rarely ever humorous in general, so why would he start now? The closest thing to a laugh he'll give is an amused huff whenever you give a sarcastic quip, or if you do anything he deems is stupid. You let out a nervous high-pitched giggle while undressing? He can't help but compare you too the girls at the beach- the ones who use faulty laughs in hopes of getting laid. If it wasn't for the unpleasant contrast to the other bikini-wearing girl's, it would have almost been something close to endearing.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well-groomed, and highly hygienic- Chishiya couldn't fathom why anyone would willingly be dirty. He keeps it trimmed, never letting it grow past a certain point before shaving it down. Unlike most he doesn't care if your shaven or not- he just wants to know how often you shower.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Having romantic feelings is a big jump. You should be lucky if you can endues any feeling out of the man. He doesn't say anything with intimate underlining no matter how good your making him feel. Not because he's tempted too or he wants too.. and even if he did he wouldn't know what to say. After all the fact that he's letting you kiss him should be enough.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Chishiya knows the benefits of having an orgasm; it can relax you- physically and mentally, it's a stress reliever, causes a serration boost- yet he's just never felt the need. If he woke up with a boner he'll ignore it until it's gone most days, if it wont, he'll rub a quick one out. Simple as that. In fact its almost annoying, time consuming- having to search his brain for something that makes his dick twitch in satisfaction. At least you given him something to get off too quicker.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Humping. Feeling your hips running back and forth around his torso as the sheer feeling of the imprint of his dick, letting you get off on his leg while your giving him a blowjob, lazily pumping his dick while watching you hump a pillow because he refused to touch you, you rapidly rubbing your clit against his naked thighs- shorts be damned- you reaching your climax without him even having to touch you? Hottest thing you could do. Did wonders for his ego too.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In a room where he could lay and sit down. Why would he willingly be uncomfortable without reason? And it must be completely empty. No one else in sight. Chishiya didn't hate the idea of fucking in the shower, it made the clean up process a lot faster.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. And not because of some sentimental outlook, but because of how real it was. You laid bare in front of him - literally and metaphorically - he knew your story, fears, skills, your treasures of the world- what was stopping him for shattering your esteem while you laid so earnestly below him? Or whispering degrading thoughts in your ear while you reach your orgasm, installing pleasure too your fears? Would he? Probably not. But the weight of another person in there entirely surged him to you. You'd let him kiss you in any way, touch you how he pleased, fuck you how he felt fit- you allowed him to have the higher power. He'd be lying if he said it didn't do things to him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Role play. He simply wouldn't be able to get into character, and he wouldn't be able to see you in such a different light. Although he did play doctor once or twice.. but it made sense, if he is an actual doctor he's not playing a character, is he?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

No preference, really. He likes the suction of your mouth, the tightness of your throat, the way you tug on his hair when he's between your legs, forcing his head down- completely ignorant to you blocking both of his airways. He realized that he didn't actually mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

Its starts off as with an even pace, slow and deep thrusts- the longer you go for for quicker his hips snap, the harder the headboard hits the wall and the harder he fucks. Your both always a little out of breath by the end of it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't care for it. What's the point in having sex while feeling rushed? He likes to take his time, however how long or short he wants it to be. And the thought of where-ever he had to go to would ruin his sexual tuition, anyway. Chishiya would rather wait it out.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

Depends. Chishiya wound't say he's vanilla, or that he's a sex freak- so the thought of experimenting could go either way. If he thinks there is just a fragment of himself that would enjoy if he might say yes, more out of regard to you having the gut to ask him in the first place. If he doesn't like the idea, he'll simply shut you down.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Three max. Although he does prefer letting foreplay escalate you to finishing climax before you actually start to have sex- curling his fingers inside you, claiming he's "Just getting you started.", letting his tongue lap at you like a starved man- so a lot of the time, you end up more spent than him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Why would you need toys? Chishiya's has two hands and a tongue for a reason. However if you ever brought him a toy, asking if he could use it on you, he won't reject you- but maybe he would make you use it on yourself while he watched, instructing you what too do, purely for his own enjoyment.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chishiya likes to get to the point and he wouldn't say he teases you, he just finds amusement in watching you arch in pleasure for as long as possible. Although if you ever heard him say that you would call him a fucking liar to his face.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

As for grunts and moans, more rare than you would like- you would try little tricks to see what would make him react the most- and ever time he did, you felt like you got a little reward. He was decently vocal, talking more than actually make sounds- but you didn't miss when a sharp intake of breath would cause him to pause, or when his words would deepen to low grumbles. Chishiya was vulgar with his words, much to your surprise. Outwardly asking if you liked what he was doing, making you explain how wet the thought of his dick was making you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chishiya liked hearing how your voice would rattle when he grope you a certain way, liked hearing your airy call of his name and how you would repeat it over and over and over again in his ear. He liked forcing you to explain why you wanted him so bad while he refused to let you touch him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Six inches exactly, and two and a half inches wide. How the hell he was that wide was beyond you, and Chishiya knew what you were thinking the second your eye's widened. He just looked at you with a small smirk and raised eyebrows, daring you to say something. Pale, like the rest of his, but with an aggravated bright pink tip. Stick straight and small veins runing to his shaft.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could go without sex for the rest of his life if you made it a challenge. But you didn't, and it wasn't- so he enjoyed the company when he wanted too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he's tired he'll lay there, eyes closed and completely limp- even though his brain was still wide awake. It always took him a while to actually fall asleep, but depending on how rough you fucked the physical toll with lull him to sleep just a few minutes earlier.

[funnyexel]

Pervy husband staring at his wife's big chest and her actually noticing his expression~

She got flustered and immediately covered her chest with her arms

a thrill ride of obsession

you felt it. the weird looks. the lingering glances. but you passed them off as prolonged glares. looks of disgust and of realization that he's going to be marrying you in a few short days.

but you read it wrong. so unbelievably wrong.

Secondborn!husband who's becoming sloppy, lazy in his sneaky ways of going through your drawers to steal your intimate clothing. Secondborn!husband that notices how lazy you are getting with covering up your chest, noticing the way you walk around the room with less and less fabric covering your body as time counts down to your wedding.

Secondborn!husband that openly stares at you when he purposely accidentally enters the fitting room, where you were trying on your wedding night attire. Secondborn!husband who is shoved out the female dominated room and mentally stunned by the outfit he got a glimpse of.

Pervert!husband that can’t ignore the way all his blood rushed from his head down to his dick. All his rational thinking getting lost on the journey to his bed chambers. Pervert!husband who whimpers and pleads for you when he rips off his pants and strokes himself to his vision of you. His vision of your curvy body and big tits squished into the bra of the tightly woven bralette.

Pervert!husband who’s knees buckle under him when the image of your faintly flushed cheeks cloud his mind, causing him to slide down the wall of his room, all the while not letting his cock breath from the tight fisting he’s doing. Pervert!husband who wants to cum at the thought of you squeezing your breasts closer together in your sorry attempt to shield yourself from him, your own husband.

Pervert!husband who could care less if someone could hear him on the other side of this door. Pervert!husband who’s mind just goes blank when he fantasizes about you on your knees in front of him, bouncing up and down on your heels as you push your tits against his straining cock. Strangling the muscle in his perverted version of quality time. Feeling the warmth of your tits around him and feeling the kitten licks you would leave on his tip. He can see it all unfold in his mind, the way you would breath so heavily from embarrassment and the excessive movement.

Secondborn!husband who acts like he didn’t have a manic episode of being so horny that he basically couldn’t breath or even think about anything but those gorgeous tits.

a/n: I didn't expect for this to take such a gross turn but hey, hope you like it. p.s. its black history month and time to spam my page as much as I possibly can.

more writing

[pha55ed]

I'll Only Make You Cry || F1

type :: hurt no comfort tw/cw :: cheating, panic attacks, contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, summary :: you catch the drivers cheating on you, crushing everything you've ever known about him - "my heart just can't be faithful for long, i swear i'll only make you cry" - cry by cas

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Carlos Sainz | 55

There's no way he could ever recover from this. You could tell that his PR team was working overtime in order to sweep this all under the rug. They came up with the lie that you and Carlos broke up a while ago, but you knew the truth all too well.

You never broke up with Carlos, God you even thought you guys were going perfect! Everything seemed to be great until all of those photos got leaked online of Carlos with a random model. She was beautiful, everything that you were insecure about, she lacked. Not a single pimple, spot of cellulite, smidge of fat, nothing. She was like a doll, it only made you more upset.

Did Carlos ever actually feel attracted to you? When you vented to him about your fears of not being enough for him and he comforted you so gently, saying you were a Goddess that could make Aphrodite jealous. And yet, as you kept scrolling through the photos of Carlos and the model, you felt as if you were the Hunchback of Notre dame.

Did Carlos ever actually love you? He was taking this model out to trip in Paris, Spain, and Japan and yet the biggest trip you've done with Carlos is visit your home town. He took her out to fancy dinners, on cruises, and private jet rides and yet you were never even aware he had his own private jet.

He's been spamming you with calls and texts, but you didn't reply to a single one. You were too busy packing up all of your stuff as you got ready to leave your shared apartment. Taking everything with you would be too big of task for now, since you owned most of the kitchen appliances, bedding, hell you even owned the couch. So you focussed on just the basics that you needed to live, shoving them into as many bags as you could. Your best friend said she'd come over and help you pack once she was done with work. She should be with you in about an hour or so, but you have the worst luck ever.

Because instead of Carlos coming home at around midnight, like usual, he came home earlier. It only made you wonder if he only stayed out till midnight to see his other lover, making you feel even sicker to your stomach. You didn't bother to look up at him as he entered the room.

"Cariño, please, no no no, stop" He said as he rushed up to you, trying to stop you from packing but you shoved his hands away. You gave him a disgusted look, as if you no longer knew him. Which was true, you didn't even recognize Carlos anymore.

"(Y/N), please it's just lies. The media is lying!" He tries desperately to convince you but his excuse sounded so stupid, beyond stupid. There's photographic evidence, everywhere that you looked online it was shoved into your face. Not a chance of editing or AI, it was just the raw photo.

"No," you said, trying to sound strict but your voice was still weak despite the loud volume of it, "We're done."

"No no no no, please, please no." He looked so weak, pathetic. You could see the tears form in his eyes. Although you felt hurt to watch him cry, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any empathy since you've been crying for hours on end.

With perfect timing, your best friend knocked on the door. You hastily shoved the final pieces of clothing that you needed as you slammed your suitcase shut. Your best friend ran in and quickly helped grab anything else you could need, like toiletries and electronics. Carlos knew he couldn't do anything, so he stood awkwardly to the side as he watched you leave his life instantly.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Your breathing became shaky as you read the lengthy text message your friend sent you. It was filled to the brim with apologies for what they were saying, but you couldn't even process most of what they wrote since you were so busy staring at the photos of Charles kissing his ex girlfriend.

It was if everything around you just shattered in front of you, that the past year you spent with him was for nothing. All of those dates, kisses, meeting his family, introducing him to your grandma, all for nothing. What hurt even more was the fact that Charles was your first boyfriend after about 2 years since your last ex did the same exact thing.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear the door click as Charles entered your shared hotel room. He just finished having dinner with his team, enjoying a great night out, something he didn't deserve.

As he called your name in such a gentle and loving tone, it made you resent him. How could he possibly act so innocent when you have a literal stack of evidence of him cheating right in your hands. How could he keep acting as if everything was fine?

You turned, tears falling out of your eyes rapidly as your lips shivered, unable to stop yourself from showing how you truly felt. Instantly, he ran to you and held your hand, so gentle and soft, yet those hands were all over his ex last week. You shoved his hand away, simply tossing your phone at him. His eyes scanned the screen, his look of concern being replaced with a face that was mortified.

"Amor," He says gently, once again his hand reaches out to grab your face but you refuse to let him near you. "(Y/N), please, I... I know... I'm so sorry."

His lack of a defense made you even sicker, how could he not even explain himself??? Not even an excuse of being drunk, being stupid, of the photos being old. Not a single excuse, meaning he knew how wrong he was and yet he still did it to please himself, completely forgetting about you.

"We're done." You try to say in a firm tone, but your throat was so tight that it became a whisper. You stood up from the bed, as you hastily began to pack your bags as Charles paced the room with his hands hiding his face.

"Amor, please stop." He says as he tries to stop you. "I-I'll break it off with her."

But you could tell, from the slight stutter and the way his eyes were darting across your face to read you: he was lying yet again. So you shook your head, wiping your tears with your hands as you ran out of the room to order an Uber to somewhere else, anywhere else.

And he didn't stop you. He knew he fucked up, and he knew he didn't deserve you.

Lando Norris | 04

Doing Lando's laundry was boring, but you knew it needed to be done. It was one of the many tasks you did for him to help make his life just a bit easier, especially since he has little to no clue how to even use a washing machine. The last time he did his own laundry, the entire apartment was filled with soap suds because he overloaded it with detergent.

As you made sure to tie his hoodie strings together and empty his pockets, you grabbed something odd out of his trousers. A hotel key card. This wouldn't have been super odd, he's forced to sleep in hotels 24/7 due to his job except the fact that it wasn't a fancy hotel like usual. You knew McLaren would only put Lando in the best hotels possible, so it was suspicious to see a random hotel brand that's known for being cheap and easy to buy.

You could feel something wrong in your guts, something telling you that this wasn't just some random bad booking from McLaren but instead something deeper. It felt extremely stalker-ish but you needed to satisfy the voice in your head: so you looked through Lando's bank statements.

And that's when you saw that he booked this room three nights ago, when he told you he was staying at Oscar's place after a huge party. You could feel your heart sink, assuming the worse possible scenario. But you tried to push those thoughts aside and see the best in him.

But that attempt was cut short, as you scrolled up and saw multiple bookings at random hotels. So many random hotels that you eventually lost track. The only things that was also being charged on his card were drinks, which were always bought in extreme amounts before booking a room.

You weren't dumb, your brain connected the dots easily: he was cheating on you. But you still didn't have solid evidence beside bank statements. Besides, maybe he wasn't cheating on you? Maybe he just gets super wasted and then crashes at a hotel instead of his fancy one to sleep? Sounds stupid, but then again Lando is pretty stupid.

So you decided to dig deeper, going through his bank history to see if he has any other odd statements. That's when you saw money constantly being sent to random Zelles, Paypals, and Venmos. You thought it would just be him paying his friends back or giving them some money - but all of the names were female. Tiffany, Rebecca, Malibu, and many more. Oddly enough it was always on the nights he got a hotel. Almost as if he was paying a girl for a service. But there's no way he could be cheating? He's just your plain old stupid Lando, right?

Continuing your stalker behavior, you searched the girls names online. And you were right - all your worst fears coming true. They were all models, drop dead gorgeous models. Skinny, tall, blonde, and rich, his exact type. And as if couldn't get worse, all of those models followed him and he followed them back. And even more worse, the more you scrolled through the girls feed: you could connect the entire story. You knew you needed to leave.

As you cried whilst packing your bags, you heard the door click. He came home, much earlier than you expected him to. Normally you'd run to him, greeting him with kisses and hugs. He went searching for you, finding you on the floor as you folded your clothes into your second large suitcase.

"Love? What's going on???" He says, panicking and trying to keep his cool. He knew that you knew, there's no other reason for you to pack besides that. Instantly, he got onto his knees, being at your eye-level as his hand went on top of yours, trying to stop you from packing.

But you flinch your hand away, giving him a nasty glare as you stared at him coldly. You wanted to speak to him, curse him out, shove all of your evidence into his face, but you couldn't. Your throat was shut tight and your lungs were barely able to give you enough oxygen to breathe whilst crying.

"Just tell me, please, please just tell me what I did." He said, as he started unpacking your bag. He took out your folded clothes, unravelling them, ruining your hard work to pack neatly. "You don't need to leave, we can fix this!"

His words made it clear that he knew, he knew that he's ben caught. And he knew that there was no way to defend his actions. Sure he was drunk, but making that "mistake" 40 times is a habit. As if to make you even mad, you saw Lando begin to cry.

As if his tears switched a gear in you, you smacked his hand away from your luggage as you hastily shoved all the now-unfolded clothes into your suitcase. "I'll never forgive you." You said with venom in your words despite your grief.

Oscar Piastri | 81

You couldn't find your favorite lip liner, it always went missing for some reason. Although you had other lip liners, you NEEDED this one, you were loyal to it. It was the best shade and buttery smooth, you wanted to use only the best products for this award show you were attending with Oscar.

But as you continued to search helplessly, you started to search Oscar's desk. Sometimes you would place stuff on his desk on accident. As you searched through his desk, you found a small little velvet box. Your heart instantly dropped, was that a ring? Possibly for you?! You have been dating for almost 2 years now, about to reach 3 years within a month. A smile crept onto your face, unable to hide the joy of possibly being Oscar's forever.

You sneakily opened the box, only to be met with a beautiful rose-gold necklace... Odd, you're not a rose-gold girl. You've always been a silver person since you were born. But the material didn't even matter, as you looked at the rose-gold plated name, "Lily", his ex's name...

Oh haha,,, you awkwardly close the box. Must have been an old gift he was supposed to give her? Except, as you examined the box, there wasn't an ounce of dust on it. And even worse, you checked the bottom of the velvet box, with a message saying, "Happy 6 Years, my Lily." The exact amount of time they would have been dating, if you never came in the picture...

"(Y/N)! We have to go now! We're about to be late-" Oscar came into the room, looking at your holding onto the small box. Instantly, his eyes widened as he quickly grabbed the box out of your hands. "Why are you snooping around my desk??"

As if you snooping was the biggest issue, and not the fact the he has a gift for his ex - or actually, not his ex, but his other girlfriend. His defensiveness and blame was shocking to you, he's never been like this before. Usually he's calm and collected, able to talk any issue out, but now it's as if he's defending his life.

"Why do you have that...?" You question him, voice weak from worry that your reassurances to yourself were all false. "Why does it say Lily?"

"It's nothing, we need to go now." He says, dismissing you completely as he shoved the necklace into his pocket. His back turned as he walked out of his office, his shoulders were tense, hands pushing his hair back as he chewed the inside of his mouth - high from nerves.

But you couldn't care less for this stupid award show, you chased him and asked again as his hand was on the door knob. "Oscar, what's the necklace for? Why does it say Happy 6 years?" You voice shivered slightly.

He was unable to answer, not sure how to get out of this. Although he's been hiding Lily for ages, now it seemed as if he was unable to do it for any longer. "We'll talk about it when we get back home." He says, trying to stall for more time to come up with an excuse and plan.

But you stood your ground, standing in the house still while he was waiting outside of the door. As you both looked in each others eyes, your eyes welling up with tears while Oscar's were colder than usual: it was as if you could both tell it was the end.

"Can you at least act fine for 3 more hours." He says apathetically, making the tears finally fall from your eyes which answer his question. No, you could not act fine for 3 hours, how would that even be possible. You guess it is possible since Oscar has been acting "fine" for 3 fucking years with you.

Your tears didn't even make him flinch, instead it made him sigh. His hand pushed on the knob as he left you in the room, alone. You understood what his silence meant: it was over. You began to pack the essential before calling your best friend to get you. Within a span of 10 minutes, the man that you saw being your future husband was gone.

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[bonbonly]

omg I need more maid!reader. Carlos purposely making a big mess in his room so you have to spend more time cleaning it. He can’t resist grabbing a handful of your ass and cupping you pussy whenever you bend over, or dropping something down the front of your shirt so you have to stand there in front of him, reach in and take it out, basically causing your tits to spill out. He doesn’t let you fix your uniform though, wants to keep your tits out for as long as you’re in his room.

bon's thoughts (18+)

anon now why would you do this? forget about just your shirt being off. no, he's having you clean his room NAKED. he wants to see every part of you. if you're trying to fix the covers of his bed, he's shoving you on the bed and forcing you to spread your legs for him as he takes a picture of you on his phone, a clear view of your wet cunt.

"i saw the way you looked at those magazines the first time," he giggles, and you feel embarrassed. was your fascination with those magazines that obvious? but it doesn't matter, because he's dragging you off to clean his shelves. oh my god, he would whip out his camera and take pictures of you cleaning, bending over to pick up his dirty laundry and the flash goes off. one leg up on a table as the other is on the ground, tippy-toeing to reach the top of the window blinds to clean the dust off there. he's groaning at the sight of your ass out like that.

he's making you his personal model at the moment, making you clean his room and when you do finish his room, he's rewarding you by burying his face in your tits, sucking and biting and his fingers scissoring in your wet cunt.

"oh, i could take a picture of you right now too," he grins, grabbing his camera and snapping yet another photo of you. if in the case he hears his mother knocking on his door, he has you hide under the bed, kicking your maid outfit under as well while he's explaining to his mama that no, he hasn't seen the maid yet but she was probably in a bathroom. she deserved a break too, no? and when she finally leaves, he sighs out loud and yanks you out by your ankles, giggling how you're his little secret as he's peppering kisses all over your body. he's the one putting the maid outfit back on you, and just as you're about to leave his room, he's smacking your ass and grinning at you.

he manages to get your phone number, and almost every night he sends you all the photos he took of you cleaning his room. he might start asking you to clean him in the shower too, that would be a multitude of pictures waiting for him.

[dwaekkicidal]

pussyplay with channie????? like taping and slapping??? oh god

this plagued me since the second i saw it earlier today so i had to write something for it or else i'd explode.

edit; i was rereading this and realized that you mightve meant taping as in (tape) and not tapping LMFAO if thats what u wanted lmk and i’ll write you something for that bc i lowkey find that hot😭♥️

~700 words | warnings: fingering (f receiving), pussy slaps/taps, generally mean dom chris icl..., exhibitionism

god Chris and pussy slaps are so MMMMMMMM👹 he's the type to do softer slaps just to tease but hard slaps as a punishment for you misbehaving and/or moving around too much. unless its a day where he's pissed off for whatever reason and you give him the ok to use you. then you're really in for it.

❥ let's say that something went wrong at the studio earlier today; maybe one of his files corrupted and he lost hours worth of progress. i lowkey think he'd be the type to be so angry that he would cry bc he admitted to having anger issues lmao but after that, he's coming home and walking in the door in pure silence. maybe slamming doors subconsciously and/or setting things down aggressively.

❥ and, being the good little toy you are, you pull him into the bedroom and give him the option to either [A] talk about it with you or [B] fuck his anger out using you <3 and who is he to deny that good of an ultimatum???

❥ so he'll get all rough and pin you down to the bed >< almost ripping your clothes as he takes them off. or- better yet, if you have nothing but his shirt on then he's simply pushing your panties to the side. he'll force a few fingers down your throat to wet them and then shove two right into your cunt

❥ he'll finger you soooo meanly and the second you start to squirm too much for his liking or the second your legs try to close, one of those pretty, veiny hands are coming down on your clit >< he might even pull his wet fingers out to slap them across your folds too before plunging them back in

THIS JUST CAME TO MIND BUT IF HE'S ANGRY HE'S DEFINITELY THE TYPE TO SAY SHIT LIKE "This greedy fucking pussy. So tight and can't fit all my fingers in it." *whack* "What am I gonna do with you."

❥ but he's not a complete sadist though, so he'll rub over the area a few times as an apology and maybe give you a kiss or two there. but that's all you're getting <3 because this is about him and for once in his life he's allowing himself to be greedy (🔫), so he's gonna sit there for as long as it takes for his anger to subside (not long but he can and will pretend to be angry just to keep going)

the first way i thought of him tapping your pussy is through your panties ><

❥ maybe you're at an event with him or you're out at dinner with him and the boys. maybe you're just a liiiittle more bratty than usual for whatever reason, maybe you were being rude/a brat the entire way there and now that everyone is sat, you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself. so when it's <15 minutes into dinner, the appetizers haven't even arrived yet, and he already feels your hands on his thigh? his patience is thrown out the window.

❥ even more so when that hand moves right over the semi-hardon in his jeans and rubs it ever so lightly. then you're stealing his hand and sliding it under the table, to everybody else it looks like you guys are holding hands but trying to do so secretly, so if somebody notices they just smile and wiggle their eyebrows at the "PDA."

❥ but in reality you're sliding that hand between your parting thighs and placing your hand over his, basically instructing him to rub over your pussy through your already thin panties. and those thin panties that seem even thinner by the way your wetness seeps through.

❥ he'll shove his tongue into the skin of his cheek, squeeze his legs together to relieve some tension, and then he's swatting your hand away. he'll spread your folds through the fabric just to tap against your clit meanly. he wont even rub it or give it any other sort of attention; just tapping it softly sometimes then roughly the other. the rough ones make you actually jump/shiver and some of the guys catch on, but he'll just say you're cold.

❥ then he's not stopping until you start to make some noise, either if whines start to come out of your throat or if your breaths turn into low moans. at that point, he'll pat you a singular time and remove his hands. he'll act like nothing happened the rest of the night... until you get home c;

[wanderingwinds333]

What You Keep Hidden. Part 2

Pairing: Eris x Reader, Azriel x Reader.

Authors Note: I was a bit undecided on who I wanted y/n to end up with but I think I’m leaning towards Eris. let me know your thoughts!

Azriel couldn’t let it go. Not this time.

He flew down to the city and sent his shadows out to find you. Only to come up short.

He trekked to your cottage that lies on the outskirts of Velaris. You moved from the House of Wind shortly after Cassian and Nestas mating ceremony.

Once he stepped through your gates he was hit by a strong surge of magic that stopped him dead in his tracks. Wards. You warded your home against him and possibly the rest of his family, but why?

Azriel was no match for your magic on a normal day but his shadows have never had a problem breaking past wards. So he sent them through. He ordered them to tell him what they see.

“Mess. Mess everywhere Master. Remnants of Drugs. Myrthroot and another drug from the autumn court.”

The shadows bring the paraphernalia to him. He couldn’t believe it even though he was looking right at it. You were using drugs? How far had you fallen?

His shadows told him the drugs were from the Autumn court but how did you get them? His shadows didn’t even know the name of them or what they do.

Eris. He must speak to Eris.

He shadow walked directly to the Autumn Palaces doors. Eris had removed the wards from the inner circle in show of good faith and trust.

Eris appeared in seconds having felt Azriels magic cross autumns boundaries.

“Shadowsinger, what brings you here unannounced?” Eris asks a bit wearily.

“What can you tell me about this?” Azriel speaks and all but shoves the drugs in the new high lords hands.

“ Ahh Widows root. A popular drug that my father moved across Prythian. I have been trying to expel it from Autumn and put those away that were caught dealing it. How did you get it?” Eris questioned.

“That’s none of your concern. What does it do?”

Azriel had made a mistake though handing over the contraband.

Eris inhaled deeply and his eyes widened.

“Widows root is a numbing drug. Pain reliever of sorts but not for physical ailments. It shuts off an average faes emotions completely. Turns their mind off basically. But pray tell why y/n’s scent is all over this?” Eris’ eyes darkened in something close to rage.

“As I said before, that’s none of your concern.”

Azriel turned around to leave but flames incircled him.

“I do apologize for the fire but everything with her concerns me Shadowsinger.” Eris spoke unnaturally calm.

Azriel turned back to Eris with furrowed brows.

“How so?”

“She just does. Now I’ll ask again. Why is her scent all over these drugs?” Eris asked.

Azriel sighed. He knew Eris could be trusted now but this was still a family matter and he simply wasn’t family. But if he was going to get out of here with ease he might as well just tell him.

“My shadows found it in her home.”

“Has she been acting differently?” Eris’ tone switched to one of concern.

“Yes but she hasn’t exactly been the same since the war.”

The war was hard for everyone but for you it was life altering. Your family always knew what you were, half high fae and half witch. But the mother didnt stop there with you. Your magic had no bounds or limits. The mother had cursed you with the power of necromancy. You had swore to yourself that you’d never use it. You thought it was unnatural and wrong. But that day you saw your family losing. You knew what the future would be or lack there of if you didn’t intervene.

So when you did step out onto that battlefield you let hundreds of years of repressed magic flow out of you.

A simple incantation had a whole legion of Hybern soldiers drop to their knees and stop breathing. A moment later they were back up but with completely white eyes and under your control.

They fought at your whim. They fought until all their limbs had been cut off and could no longer stand. Only then did you remove your control of their body, when they were no longer of use to you.

You ravaged the field. Your family having a front row seat to your horror show.

They saw how your once golden hair turned ashen. How your normally kind blue eyes turned black with red veins running down your face. You looked like hel incarnate.

Your appearance eventually went back to normal. All except your hair. They did not know what that meant for you.

You were one of the main reasons the war turned in their favor but at what cost?

“Take me to her.” Eris demands breaking Azriels train of thoughts.

Azriel is now confused for a second time with the display of concern Eris is showing for you.

“Even if I wanted to ..I can’t. I don’t know where she is right now. None of us do. She disappears like this sometimes and it’s like she never existed. She never leaves a trail or anything.” Azriel sighs.

“Then I’ll find her myself since you all are incapable of finding one of your own.”

Before Azriel could argue Eris winnowed away.

Leaving Azriel more confused and with more questions than he originally came here with.

Back at the River House.

Azriel had just finished showing Rhysand and Feyre his memories from the encounter with Eris.

“How interesting. It seems his fondness for y/n never went away.” Rhysand speaks mostly to himself.

“What do you mean?” Azriel questions.

Rhysand knew it wasn’t his place to tell because of how much you loathed your necromancy powers but he went on to explain.

“Y/n’s parents were from a high ranking family in Hewn City. My father considered her parents close friends. They were ambushed on a mission my father assigned them to and were killed. Y/n then became my father’s ward. So she grew up around high lords meetings just like I did. She and Eris are only a few years apart in age.”

“Okay so what does that have to do with anything?” Feyre asks.

“Eris and y/n grew up together basically and for the longest time ignored each others presence. But around their early teenage years Eris had done something to upset Beron during a High Lords meeting he was hosting.” Rhysand sighed at the memory.

“In a display of dominance Beron had snapped the neck of Eris’ favorite smoke hound. There wasn’t many things Eris cared about and Beron knew that. So he took the one thing he raised from a pup. Eris did not cry. He did not yell. He simply picked the hound up and left the room. Y/N followed him out. I followed too but stayed in the shadows to watch them.” Rhysand continued.

“She healed the hounds neck and then brought it back to life with her powers. She explained to Eris this could only be done once because anything she brought back for a second time simply wasn’t the same after. He asked her if she could take the hound so it would be safe and y/n immediately agreed. And he hugged her. For the rest of their childhood they were inseparable but only if Beron wasn’t around. As they grew older and into the roles of their own court they grew apart. They never spoke a negative word about one another though. She cared for him and I believe that’s why she would always leave the room when one of us would talk badly about Eris.”

“What happened to the hound? I’ve never seen her with it?” Azriel questioned.

“Oh don’t remind me. That thing lives in the lower levels of the library. Y/n found out Bryaxis loves dogs and she thought he could use the company.” Rhysand speaks with distain.

His brother and mate could only stare at him with bewildered expressions. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“You forgot to mention the part of y/n and I’s history where she held a dagger to Mors throat for lying about my actions the day she claimed I left her for dead in the woods. That one’s my favorite.” Eris spoke from door frame he was leaning on. When the other three remained silent he carried on.

“I found her by the way. Passed out in the forest about a kilometer from her cottage. She had covered her scent somehow so no one could find her.”

“How did you find her then?” Azriel interrogated.

“I have my ways.” Eris smirked.

“Is she alright” Feyre asked concerned.

Eris’s facial expressions turned grim.

“No. She’s been using Widows Root heavily. I fear her withdrawal will be too much for her to handle. Her mind will need to be held. I wish to be with her when it happens if that’s okay.” Eris turns to look at Feyre and Rhysand directly.

Rhysand nods his head. “Of course but only if you can tell me why you are so concerned with her well being after all these years?”

A genuine smile breaks out on the autumn males face. A truly eerie sight for Feyre, Azriel and Rhysand after dealing with his cruel mask for so long.

“You don’t forget the first kindness that was ever shown to you Rhysand. That kind of thing sticks with you. I made a bargain with her that day you know? I told her I’d look after her always and never hurt her. In return she promised the same for me.” His smile dropped before he continued.

This confused Rhysand because he doesn’t remember there being a bargain.

“Clearly I didn’t look after her well enough. I knew when I took over my court I should have brought her with me. But she refused when I offered and I didn’t want to force her.” Eris spoke, frustration clear in his tone.

The whole display of emotions made Azriel very uncomfortable. He can’t lie and say he never thought of you as more than a friend because he did. You were beautiful and kind. But you weren’t someone that ever needed him. As bad as it sounds he was drawn to females who needed his help in some way. He wanted to feel useful. But with you, you always had it all together and never asked anyone for help. On the contrary you were normally the one besides himself that went out of your way to help others on the daily.

He knew what he felt was jealousy. Jealous over another damn Vanserra brother. The thought leaves him quickly as he checks himself. Before anything you were his friend. His feelings in this don’t matter.

“Azriel can you go fetch Madja. I’d like her to be with us incase anything happens.” Azriel nods his head and leaves. Feyre takes her exit as well to go check on Nyx.

The High Lord of Night holds a calculating stare at the High Lord of Autumn.

Eris can see the exact moment he figures it out.

“How long?” Rhysand asks.

“How long what?” Eris smirks with that arrogant way he has about him. Hoping he is wrong and Rhysand hasn’t actually figured out anything.

“How long have you and y/n been keeping your mating bond a secret?”

[vmiuchi]

can u write a vv smut please 🥺 just something really tense, like maybe reader didn’t necessarily like him but she eases up on him and it eventually turns into something?

BREAKING POINT

Ville Valo x Female Reader. One shot.

word count: 1,322

(NSFW warning)

Backstage was absolute pandemonium. Amps everywhere, cables like snakes trying to trip you, folks yelling in every accent imaginable—honestly, if sweat had a flavor, this air would taste like old cigarettes and sheer panic. You’re standing outside those flimsy plywood dressing rooms, arms clamped across your chest, jaw basically carved from stone. Ville Valo’s hidden back there somewhere and, not gonna lie, you’re a millimeter from busting in Kool-Aid Man style.

Of course, he’s done it again.

Minutes ago, during HIM’s last set, Ville had to open his mouth, drop that grin that says “I know exactly what I’m doing,” and let it rip: “Shoutout to the backstage crew who just love running their mouths—even if they couldn’t play an E chord.” He doesn’t just drop the joke and move along. No, his eyes scan over, slow as hell, right to where you’re rooted, looking painfully visible.

The whole crowd eats it up. You can literally feel the rage bubbling up behind your eyeballs. Ville’s been messing with you since the moment you joined this tour, and tonight? Oh, he hauled your misery out front for everyone to see. Real crowd-pleaser, that one. You’re not laughing.

Day one, you clocked his type. Too slick, too at-ease, charisma dial turned up to “please just stop.” He glides around like he’s blessed the earth with his presence. That sly grin? You want to rip it off—or maybe do something a whole lot messier. Haven’t decided which urge wins yet.

And the way he flirts? Downright criminal. He stares a second too long, always teetering on that thin ledge between mocking and seducing you. You keep telling yourself it’s all pointless games—that you’re immune—but, yeah, well, your body’s got other ideas.

You storm in, not bothering to knock.

He’s dripping sweat, shirtless, black jeans hanging precariously low. Tattoos stretch old-school across that pale chest. He’s dabbing himself off, unfazed, looking like he just stepped out of a forbidden Calvin Klein ad.

He turns his head, lazy as you please. “If it isn’t my favorite critic.”

You shoot daggers. “What the hell was that stunt on stage, Valo?”

He grins, slings the towel aside. “You’ll have to remind me. I’ve been busy being worshipped.”

You kick the door closed with your boot. “Cut the bullshit. Was that shit about me?”

He just shrugs, mouth twitching at the corner. “Well, if the Doc Martens fit—”

You get up in his face, sweat prickling beneath your collar. “You think you’re the only one sweating blood for this band? Just ‘cuz I’m not the one crooning under the spotlights doesn’t mean I don’t exist.”

His gaze is straight-up rude at this point—slow, obvious, crawling all over you before finally landing back at your face. “Oh, believe me. You exist.”

You’re halfway through your next bark when he cuts you off, and your frustration finally boils over. You shove him, maybe harder than you mean.

He grabs your wrist without missing a beat.

Your body goes still—heart hammering, blood roaring in your ears. That hold is wild: not rough exactly, just certain. Like he owns every single inch of this room, including you.

“Let go,” you snarl.

His eyes gleam, dark and amused. “Make me.”

Yeah, that’s it. Something in the air just snaps.

You lunge, grab his chest, crush your mouth onto his—no hesitation, no gentle second thoughts. It’s a collision, not a kiss: hot, messy, angry as hell. All those months of useless banter and something way more dangerous just finally blow up.

He’s got hands everywhere, clutching fistfuls of your shirt, his fingernails raking your skin—grabbing your ass like he’s making a statement. You yank that silver chain, dragging him down and practically devouring him, both of you sucking in air like you’re drowning.

Suddenly you’re spun like a record, body smacked up against the vanity. Shit’s knocking over—a bottle falls, something clatters, but it’s all background noise now.

“That what you wanted?” he rasps, voice pure gravel against your neck.

You barely manage, “Shut up.”

He sinks teeth into your shoulder, just on the edge of not-quite-painful. Your body’s so into it you barely recognize yourself—fingers clawing at him, nails making lines down his spine. He lets out this absolutely filthy sound, way too pleased with himself.

At some point, your jeans are halfway down and you’re just rolling with it, panties snapped off with his teeth (show-off), soft kisses trailing up your thigh, everything getting fuzzier at the edges.

“I thought you hated me,” he smirks into your skin.

You pant, “I do.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

He stands, smooth as anything, whips a condom from his pocket like he read your mind. You snatch it, rip it open, and—yep, he’s already hard—slide it onto him yourself. The weight of him in your hand twists everything inside you tighter.

“Just get on with it,” you snap.

He grins, cocky as ever, then… well, he doesn’t make you wait.

Holy hell. He fills you in one sharp, hard thrust—knocking the air right out of your lungs, almost tipping you headfirst into the chaos all over again. He’s relentless, pace wild, grunting, groaning, every thrust shoving you a half-inch more into oblivion.

“Still mad, or what?” he pants, breath salty-hot in your ear.

You bite back, “I’m gonna murder you.”

He slides a rough palm up to your throat—just enough pressure to make your skin tingle—kisses you like he’s starving, teeth clacking, tongue wild.

“Say it,” he growls.

You shake your head, stubborn.

He slams deeper, everything crashing together, and you crack—voice wrecked: “Ville.”

He bites your lip, pulls your head back by the hair, and suddenly the whole world’s disappeared, just skin and sweat and heat and the ragged sound of your breaths. The mirror’s rattling. Someone’s probably pounding on the door, but right now, you wouldn’t care if the building caught fire. Everything feels raw and dirty and maybe just a little bit perfect.

You fumbled down, nerves shot to hell, but he swatted your hand away—nah, too slow, let him handle it.

"Move. I got it," he muttered.

And, damn, did he ever. Fingers found your clit, just right, circles that made your knees want to buckle. All the while, he kept thrusting, deep and relentless, like he knew exactly how you wanted it—maybe he did. Your thighs started shaking, almost embarrassing if you had the capacity to care.

“Come for me,” he growled, voice rough enough to scrape your insides.

Did you? Well, hell yeah, you did—cried his name, your whole body tight, squeezing around him. He lost it a few heartbeats later, teeth digging into your shoulder, muffling the kind of sound that’d get you both kicked out if the whole damn hotel wasn’t already noisy.

You collapsed onto the vanity, a puddle with legs. He pulled out—gentle, surprisingly, for a guy who just ruined you—and tossed the condom in the trash, like it was just another Tuesday.

Silence dropped heavy between you, air thick with sweat and something else—maybe regret, maybe just reality biting your ass. Both of you stared at yourselves in the streaky mirror, still panting, half-dressed and ridiculously flushed.

He spun you toward him, hands big and weirdly soft on your jaw, thumb dragging lazy across your lower lip. Voice low, softer, a hint of nervous in there if you listened close: “Gonna bolt?”

You raised an eyebrow, let your mouth curl up. “What, you tired of me already?”

He snorted, like—please—and kissed you, slower this time, just lips and heat. No rush, just… whatever the hell this was.

You shoved your jeans back on, wiped your mouth ‘cause, honestly, who wants to walk out with sex lips? He watched, still half-naked, not even pretending to play it cool.

He finally broke the silence, smirking. “You good now?”

You shot him a glare that screamed bite me. “Shut up.”

But your feet wouldn’t move. Not yet.

[danikamariewrites]

Smutty Ruhn Headcanons

Ruhn x reader

A/n: day three celebrates chapter 3 of CC2 which is one of my favorite Ruhn moments. We all know Ruhn is one of the kinkiest SJM men so I thought I’d expand on a few of my other smutty hc’s for him that have been kinda short. @ruhnweek

Warnings: SMUT

Ruhn loves to live between your legs. Mans is a munch and he will never stop (and you're not complaining)

his face is your throne and eating you out is his answer for everything

stressed? he has you sitting on your face; fighting? sit on his face and chillax; happy? let him make you happier; celebrating a holiday/birthday? he has an extra gift for you

with you above him so much your hands need something to do so naturally they find home in his hair

you've started pulling at his long locks. at first it was light pulling but Ruhn likes it rough so it's built up to you basically controlling the movement of his head as he's under you

Ruhn loves pulling your hair too, especially when he's taking you from behind and when you're on your knees for him

he loves controling the pace and watching you look up at him with those doe eyes, all needy and stuff

his piercings are a huge turn on

(that lip ring will be the death of me)

he uses it to his advantage whether it be kissing you or rubbing it against your clit

the feeling of the metal ring always has you shuddering with pleasure

Ruhn is 100% a pleasure dom! when it comes to sex, making you cum gives him such an ego boost

that man lives to pleasure you in any way he can

I know I've mentioned this before but Ruhn loves cock warming. he loves how close the two of you get when you're sitting on him

sometimes when you really want each other but are exhausted Ruhn will just pull you into his lap so you can sit on his cock and have a sloppy make out session

Ruhn has a list of pet names for you and each are reserved for different moods ya know. my princess, lovely, bunny, my little slut, he gets creative in the moment sometimes too

the bedroom isn't the only place Ruhn will have sex with you. that man is insatiable and can not keep his hands to himself

to name a few places where Ruhn couldn't wait; the White Raven, the living room (even with Flynn and Dec present), the Comittium, his father's villa (becuase it would piss his father off)

The two of you have definitely done it in his office at Aux HQ before

you love showing up to tease him at work (especially if you had begged him to stay home with you). you get Ruhn so riled up he bends you over his desk, warning you to stay quiet or he'll punish you when you do get home

Ruhn has had to shove you under his desk because he forgot to lock the office door

That didn’t stop you from sucking his dick though (which he punished you for after)

sex with Ruhn isn't always rough, there are days where you both need to take it slow and just feel each other

those are some of your favorite moments with him

the intamicy you feel at being wrapped up in each other and just feeling him is euphoric

the light touches and kisses and taking care of each other after is even better

you always pamper each other, making sure you both are relaxed and comfortable

[nightlyrequiem]

How would Valeria be finding out her girlfriend has been transfem all along. (Like no surgeries done but still pretty feminine looking.) After being together for a while it comes up when Valeria asks why they'd never wanted to go further in bed.(sorry if this is bad I've never done a request before😓)

I've never written something like this before so I hope it's okay! Had to do a little research because I wasn't sure what the difference between transfem and transgender was so I hope it's accurate.

Also, obligatory But I'm a Cheerleader reference.

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Minor Angst, Happy Ending, Transfem!Reader

Night Blooming Flowers

You're going over to your girlfriend's tonight. You layer on the mascara and bat your eyes, loving the length. You give yourself one last once over, looking at yourself from all angles. One last application of lip gloss and you're ready to go. You turn away and grab your purse.

Valeria is waiting for you in her car when you step outside, bathed by the warm sun. The door to your next-door neighbor's house starts to open and you hurry up to her car. Getting in before he can come out and see you. Today is a good day and you really don't feel like being bothered by some old man who can't mind his business. He's already made himself a problem as is. You never invite Valeria over because of him.

Valeria smiles at you when you sit down, planting a warm hand firmly on your thigh. No words are spoken as she puts the car into drive. The radio hums quietly while she drives. Life goes on outside, people running errands, children playing in the streets. Your smile fades a little at the sight of an armed man giving away a balloon to a child. Barely five feet away is a sheet-covered body. You look away. Out of sight, out of mind. The cartel is doing good things for this city, you tell yourself. Valeria is doing good things. You shove those thoughts away. No need to spoil your mood by thinking too hard.

Valeria's home is lovely. Pillard architecture and symmetrical gardens. The driveway is made of fine cobblestone. She gets out first and opens your door for you.

"Thank you." You say, kissing her cheek. She has guards posted up outside. You've come to learn that Valeria has some issues with paranoia. Though with her occupation it may not be so unwarranted. You ignore the weird look one of them gives you and hope Valeria didn't see.

Valeria insists that you relax while she cooks but soon enough, you're in the kitchen with her. Helping to cut up carrots and peppers.

"That's not how you do it." You scold. Gently grabbing the paring knife from her hands.

"Not how you do it?" She scoffs. "My mother taught me how to cook. That's how you're supposed to do it."

You hold the pepper down and slice down with an arch. "My mother taught me the correct way." You say. Shooting her a playful smile.

She comes up behind you and grabs your hips. 

"Didn't realise I was dating such a meticulous chef." She murmurs into your ear. You giggle but stiffen when her hands start to dip lower down your thighs. Before she feels anything you don't want her feeling yet, you pull away with the excuse that the peppers are done being cut and can be put into their bowl.

Valeria adds all the ingredients together once the two of you finish preparing them. She grabs your hand and leads you to the living room, setting a timer on her phone.

"Let's get a movie picked out while we wait." She says. She plops down on her couch and you join her. Moving under her arm to rest halfway on her chest, your feet curled up under you comfortably. "What were you thinking?" She asks, moving through the options on screen.

"Uh... I'm not sure." You reply. "Have you ever seen But I'm a Cheerleader?"

Valeria's fingers absently run over your side.

"I haven't, what's that one about?" She murmurs.

"A cheerleader gets sent to conversion camp but it's incredibly exaggerated and all the people there are basically sleeping together." You tell her.

"Sounds incredibly sophisticated." She remarks dryly. You roll your eyes,

"It's a romcom it's not supposed to be sophisticated." You reply. Valeria smiles but doesn't reply. Adhering to your suggestion, she puts on the movie. 'Chick Habit' by April March plays out while the movie cuts from credits to shots of cheerleaders in slow motion.

All is well for fifteen minutes. Valeria is warm and soft and you're happy to be laid up against her. Once again, her hand starts to wander. You aren't sure how to get out of this without making it obvious. You grab her wrist when her hand gets too close to your groin. The atmosphere between you now becoming tense. she slowly retracts her hand and lays it in her lap. You're left feeling guilty for always turning her down.

"... I'm sorry." You murmur, craning your head to look at her.

"It's fine." She says. Not looking at you. "If you aren't ready that's okay."

You bite your lip. It's not like you aren't ready. There's nothing you'd like to do more than to be intimate with your girlfriend. You just don't know how she'll feel when she finds out you're different to what she thought.

You let the silence linger. Working up the courage to speak. You love Valeria and you don't want to lose her. 

"I'm transfem." You say quietly. "I haven't had any surgeries." Valeria goes still, making your heart thump painfully. she turns her head to look at you and you avoid her gaze. Worried over what you might see.

"What is that?" She asks carefully. "Like transgender?"

"... Similar, I guess." You murmur. There's no going back now. "I was born with male parts but I don't feel like a male."

"Oh." She says. "But you're not a guy?" 

"No, I've always felt more feminine, I'm still your girlfriend." You reply. Hoping that last part is true. Valeria has been one of the best things to come into your life.

"...Okay." She nods.

You frown. "Okay as in... you don't care or okay as in 'I acknowledge what you're telling me.'" You ask nervously, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your finger.

"That's why you never want to sleep with me?" She asks quietly. 

"... Yeah." You nod. 

Valeria sighs and pulls you closer. Resting her head on yours.

"I don't care about what's in your pants, mi vida." She says. "You're my girlfriend, my person."

You melt into her with relief. You grab one of her hands and squeeze, feeling her squeeze back. "This won't change anything though." You say. "Don't treat me differently now that you know. Please."

"Never." Valeria promises. She breathes you in. Then pauses. You look at her when she sits up. "Do you smell that?" She asks, frowning. You furrow your brows and sniff the air.

Something's burning. A few seconds after the thought registers the smoke alarm goes off.

"Shit!" Valeria curses. Jumping off the couch. You follow her into the kitchen, seeing smoke billow from the oven.

"I thought you set a timer?" You exclaim in distress. Valeria hurriedly takes out the charred remains of your supper. The both of you peer down at it.

"I did." She says. "I think I set the oven too high."

"Did your mom teach you that too?" You quip.

Valeria gently shoves your shoulder. 

You grab her arm and pull her away.

"It's okay." You say. "We'll order takeout, next time we do this I'll do the cooking."

Valeria rolls her eyes and leans into you. "Okay little Ms. Perfect. We're missing the movie." You sit back on the couch. Cuddled up under a soft blanket just in time to witness Megan and Graham's first kiss.

[starry-comet]

Y’all- I made my first tramsformers snippet on a whim and tired inspiration- it’s a Kotrine fic (knockout x elite trine) I tried lol, if you’d like to see similar content feel free to send in a request!

(First fic have mercy on me-)

(It’s nsfw so MDNI!!! 18+!!!) pls)

Story under the cut

The only thing could be heard was banging and cursing, the medic sighed as he looked up from his work scowling. Who could blame him though? Trying to work on the formula to crack synth-en took silence and unfortunately it was being interrupted, soon the cause of the noise became known as the door to the med bay opened and there stood the problem- Starscream- well he was actually being carried by his trinemates, Thundercracker and Skywarp as he kept on cursing and hissing at them. “Stop being so fragging stubborn” Thundercracker grumbled before pushing the red seeker onto a med berth with the help of Sky. Knockout couldn’t help but roll his optics, “what happened this time? Did Shockwaves pet get ahold of him and use him as a chew toy?” He said as he approached the squirming seeker who eventually got the other two seekers to let him go, “no- who do you think I am?” Starscream barks out. “An idiot duh” Skywarp says with a toothy grin. “Alright back up- shoo shoo now-“ knockout mumbles while getting his tools ready, Starscream damaged his wings of all things, making the medic once again roll his eyes, first off seeker wings are basically their legs, can’t survive without them due to their frames being built for aerial combat, damaged wings mean death if they’re grounded unless you’re Thundercracker in which case the larger seeker just shakes the ground to get a better advantage, second- their wings are sensitive and the last time this happened the red seeker did nothing but try and wiggle away while snapping and swiping at him which in turn damaged his finish, annoying. “Hold still now” he said before running his servos across Starscreams wings making him growl faintly and whimper. “Hey- watch it!-“ starscream hisses softly as knockout tapped the ends of his wings before starting to clean up the dried energon clumped around the wound. “You’re lucky the damage isn’t to extensive, you could’ve lost your wing you dumb-aft” the medic mumbles lightly, starscreams wings are so pretty so he’s going to try and repair it as best he can.

While the two red cybertronians are mumbling to eachother Skywarp couldn’t help but watch the doc’s hips as they sway side to side absently, he nudged Thundercracker in the side and motioned toward the medic and the blue seeker instantly caught on, also watching the speedsters hips sway. “I never noticed how our doc has such a small waist..” Skywarps vents out, fans now humming slightly louder than usual, he wonders how it would feel rot hold onto those hips- keep them still as he plows into their dear little medic making his face flush warm as devious and perverse thoughts flooded into his processor.

After he managed to get the red seeker to sit still long enough to clean and wrap his wounds he turns around to let Starscreams trine know. “Okay make sure he-“ they’re gone, where did they go? Before he could question it more he was shoved forward and pushed up against a berth adjacent to the red seeker, a purple servo holding him down before the other starts to gently explore making the medic squirm, faceplate a deep blue. “What are you doing?!- l-let go of me you aft-“ just as knockout finished Thundercracker pulled the purple seeker back a little giving the doc enough room to turn around face blazing blue and his vents stirring. “Skywarp- that wasn’t the plan-“ TC hissed “I know- but he’s just so- so fuckable-“ Sky whined making the blue seeker smack him in the back of the head. Knockouts head turns to face Thundercracker now. “Plan?- what plan?-“ he says trying to sit up before the blue seeker gently pushes him back down, being careful as to not scratch his paint and K.O noticed this. Skywarp only grumbled and rubbed the back of his head as Thundercracker pulled knockout up off the berth gently and carefully checked them over, apparently Thundercracker was very observant and realized K.O. Prioritized his clean finish and wanted to check for damage, how sweet. This led to the medic thinking over the pass few minutes of what just happened and what it was possibly going to lead to making him weigh the pros and cons (teehee cons-) he turned his face towards the blue seeker who still seemed to be checking him over before grabbing their servos and pulling them forward and giving the bulky seeker a soft kiss. Thundercrackers fans made a hitching sound before his wings shifted down as he carefully grabbed their medics waist bringing him closer to himself. Skywarps wings flared up as his faceplate became hot, is he seeing what he thinks he’s seeing?? No, this is not fair- the purple seeker growls before getting behind knockout and pushing himself against their back and grabbing onto their hips while applying some heavy pressure making the smaller gasp into their kiss with TC, seeing this as opportunity Thundercracker pushed his glossia into their mouth while practically pinning them against skywarp. Starscream was able to hear everything, faceplate red before he turned around on the berth only to see his trine pinning their medic against eachother and rubbing their servos all over them only to realize that knockouts modesty panel was already gone and Skywarps digits were already deep inside the moaning mess of a doctor, his wings twitched as Thundercracker noticed his stare before chuckling and pulling knockout towards star making sky’s digits leave the medic which in turn made them whine. Thundercracker stared at Star before Star realized and removed his own modesty panel letting his spike free. The blue seeker carefully lifted K.O before making the medic straddle Starscreams waist, knockout looked down as his faceplate became more hot before adjusting his position and pushing Starscream inside making his legs shake, Skywarp being the menace he is grabbed knockouts shoulders and pushed the medic down fast making Star choke up a moan and the medic cry out a pleasured yelp. Moments later it’s nothing but moan after moan coming from everyone of them, Skywarp has his spike deep in knockouts valve as the medic tries his best to clean Starscreams spike all while he uses his own spike to please the big blue seekers valve. What a day to be a seeker.

[canyouhearthelight]

Not the Chosen One, Ch. 10: ...And Sometimes, We Win.

In which something scary but awesome happens to Trey, Dex is himself, and Stef tries to advocate for Trey to take basic care of himself.

Shoutouts to all the new and returning readers who have found this series, it makes my day when I see y'all in my notes. Obviously, thanks also go to @baelpenrose and @writing-with-olive for their beta reading and feedback when this is in the rough stages.

And to a question @1978sah asked but I am sure others may have wondered: Stef and Dexter are essentially soul-bound. Meaning wherever she is, he can hear/smell/see everything she does. This, along with a few other interesting features, is already built out in the 12.5 chapters I have on deck after this one, but since there aren't a lot of opportunities for lore dumps, it may seem a bit weird to hear Stef talk about things the reader may not quite understand as though they are commonplace to her, but.... I mean, they ARE commonplace to her. So I don't get a lot of opportunity to explain things unless it makes sense that Trey or someone else would ask.

But PLEASE keep the questions coming, because I love them and sometimes they aren't things I've thought of or that Bael or Olive have poked at with a stick, so they give me opportunity to noodle on those!

The next morning, I was up first and indulged in making myself a bowl of congee with leftover greens and a soft boiled egg.  I was only halfway through, breaking periodically to make toast and eating several slices as I went, when Trey stumbled blearily to the table, still toweling his hair.

“That doesn’t look awesome,” he yawned, reaching for a slice of toast and some peanut butter.

I swallowed my mouthful quickly while shrugging. “You’d be surprised. I’m not a fan of sweets, and it’s weird to have greens with breakfast at first. But after a while, you start to crave it. Carbs, fats, protein, veggies… Ugh. I’ll be good to go for hours on this.”

Trey scowled at me for a moment, trying to figure out if I was trolling him.  After the third mouthful that I shovelled into my mouth - only by the grace of toast - he looked curious rather than suspicious. “Can I try a bite?”

I shook my head, but held up a hand until I could talk without spraying rice across the table. “There’s butter in mine, and you have a dairy allergy. But I can make some without, since I’m probably going to eat another bowl anyway and can add butter after if you don’t like it?”

That seemed to be the acceptable compromise, so I scraped my bowl into my mouth and stood to start another batch. The rice was ready to go, but once the water was at a boil to cook the eggs, I turned back to Trey, something tickling my brain. “Trey, I know you just showered this morning, but - and this isn’t judgy, it’s just a question - do you wash your face in the shower?”

“Yeah?” He looked so confused. “I do everything but brush my teeth.”

I gestured to my upper lip. “I think you missed a spot?” He hadn’t had dirt on his face after dinner, but for all I knew he gardened in his sleep.

His face screwed up in confusion before he headed to the bathroom to look in the mirror.  The water on the stove had just come to a rolling boil when Trey started shouting.

I hauled ass down the hallway, shoving open the barely-closed bathroom door.

Trey was clawing at his face, specifically his lip and under his chin. “Stef! This wasn’t there yesterday! What is happening!?? Am I dying? Is it a curse???”

Grabbing Trey’s hands so he would stop hurting himself, I leaned in to look at where he had been clawing. “Trey, I can’t see if you are jerking around. Tell me what it is, or stay still, or both, but I need to know what you’re talking about.”

He stilled, shaky breaths in and out. I spotted what he was panicking about at almost the same time he told me. “Hairs,” he rasped. “It isn’t dirt, it’s hairs. Thick ones.”

Sure enough, it matched what I was seeing.  He had short, sparse facial hair that matched what some sixteen year old boys had. Patches on his upper lip, some on the chin, really sparse across the neck.

None of it was there yesterday.

Steadying myself, I racked my brain for mundane reasons but realized I didn’t have enough information. “Trey. I’m going to ask some uncomfortable questions, but they’re important and just yes or no works, okay?”

Given how focused I was on his face, I saw the nod rather than hearing the quiet agreement.

“Has your menstrual cycle been regular?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, every four to five weeks?”

“Mm hmm.”

Kind of impressive, wasn’t going to lie. Mine hadn’t been at that age. “Have you been sexually active, even if it wasn’t consensual?”

“No! Geez, no.”

I suppressed a chuckle at how the tone of disgust matched how he suddenly stilled and breathed normally. “Are you on any long form contraception?”

“Nexa… Nextro…”

“Nexplanon? The arm implant?”

“Yeah.” He paused, but before I could ask another question, he volunteered some information. “A tee- Adult I trusted pretended to be my mom to sign off so I could get it last year.”

I made a mental note to get the teacher’s name so I could send a blessing or something their way.  “I don’t have the words to tell you how proud I am that you protected yourself,” I confessed before explaining. “So, not pregnant, contraception has been there long enough that you would see hormonal changes before this… no signs of chronic hormonal stuff that would cause this, or - again - we would have seen signs of it sooner, you wouldn’t be alarmed, et cetera.” I rubbed his shoulder with one hand while I drummed the fingers of the other hand on my chin. “I want to suggest something, but I need you to hear me out, okay?”

“I would really like to hold Dexter right now,” he said rather than responding.

Fully expectedly, I heard a thud against the bathroom door. Without looking, I opened it and watched as a large, incredibly fluffy cat stepped purposefully into the bathroom. “I have been summoned, I understand?”  How he maintained the snotty attitude in a situation he had basically ran to with a panic, I will always aspire to.

“Dex…” Trey called hoarsely, sitting on the closed toilet.

Once all twenty-ish pounds of fluff were obligingly curled up and kneading the poor crying teen’s leg, I continued. “I want to take you to see a magical healer,” I rushed out. “She won’t document anything in any medical system, but she is very good at diagnosing both mundane illnesses and magical ones. And she’s super discreet.”

Trey froze, but Dex rammed his head into Trey’s chest. “I like Taji. She’s very kind. I’ve been trying to court a property guardian for her.”

Higher praise probably didn’t exist.  Whatever Dexter was, being under his guardianship included prolonged life, robust health, some really incredible basic security… 

And Trey clearly understood that. “And she won’t record anything in the official system? So my parents won’t find me?”

I snorted before I could resist the urge. “You are Dexter’s grand-guardianee. As far as Taji is concerned, I’m your guardian, so I have signing authority for treatment. Which means you do, because I have it on standing record with her that I only consent to what my charges consent to, and Dex co-signed. Ish.” I flapped my hand vaguely. “In a way Taji is bound to. She gets it enough that what you say goes, at least.”

Trey’s eyes snapped up to me, wide. “I get to make my own choices about… what?”

Squatting so we would be eye level, I locked eyes with him. “Everything. Any tests, any treatment. Whether I’m in the room or not, she won’t even ask me. Ask all the questions, ask me to leave the room, ask me to stay… Taji will only refuse something if it interferes with a test you consented to.  Hell, if I’m in the room, I’ll suggest questions you should be asking and she won’t answer them unless you repeat them, even if you want me out of the room when you repeat it. She’s the best.”

“I like Taji,” Dex reinforced, purring away and pulling at Trey’s hands, rubbing his ears against any fingers that came close enough.

Getting the hint, Trey started scratching Dex’s ears and finally petting him.  I could feel the tension go out of my foster as he threaded his fingers through Dex’s fur.  “Is it okay if I talk to Aunt Benji, too? I want to make sure I’m making a good decision.”

Before I could respond, Dex stood on Trey’s lap and stretched, screaming mid-yawn “THE RICE IS BURNING YOU ABOMINABLE WOMAN!”  Delicately leaping to the floor, he glanced over his shoulder, smug. “She’ll be in the kitchen in the next five minutes. Tell her you want to try Stef’s breakfast. She’ll fix it, and you can have privacy.”

“DEXTER YOU SON OF A BITCH, THERE ISN’T EVEN RICE ON THE STOVE!”

“I may have underestimated her,” he admitted, scampering away from the kitchen.

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Ughhhh, it happened again! I swear this is almost every time I go out these days, it's getting ridiculous! I was out running errands, about to get some coffee, when I took a moment to hold my belly and pant a bit. You know, normal contractions every girl carrying quintuplets gets like constantly. I'm only six months along! But I guess an ambulance parked nearby saw it and, well, you know the new laws. Basically pregnant girls are public property, and at least in my line of work (school teacher), I have to maintain a pregnant physique or I can get fined, even lose my job. Same with healthcare, food service, retail, hospitality.... Most jobs, honestly. Welcome to Georgia, I guess. Still happy I got transferred here a couple years ago but these laws are a bit out of hand.....

Speaking of which! The ambulance pulls up, two men come out. I try to stop them but they insist on testing me for signs of labor. I explain that I'm only six months and they tell me to be quiet so they can do their jobs. They remove my clothes with scissors and shoot me up with some kind of opioid that makes me really loopy and high. They take me to the hospital as the men take videos of me on their phones, spreading my legs, showing off my pussy, spreading it open under the guise of looking for how dilated I am. But they were literally playing with my pussy, rubbing it, sticking their fingers in with gloves, shoving instruments into it. At one point about seven different instruments were jammed into my pussy and I came, squirted all over. They got mad and told me if I act up like that they can't perform their jobs. I apologized for cumming.

They took me in and surprise-surprise, the ER was full of pregnant girls. Some were texting on their phones, shaking their heads as they got C-sections, filming themselves having it done, as others impatiently waited to be stitched up afterwards, grumbling about just wanting to go home and get knocked up again already. Aloof male nurses and physicians would pass them by and tell them not to be so impatient, that they were very busy...... mostly just probing and abusing cute pregnant girls.

They ran their 'tests'..... again, happened to me just a few days ago. So I'm used to it. They squeeze my tits and got 'milk samples'. I have to give them urine samples, over and over, as I piss with no privacy in a busy auditorium they used as an ER, full of girls like me, with various lines for either labor, forced C-sections, or general 'testing'. They of course gave me an enema, in a crowded room, complaining about the mess I was making as other girls were subjected to the same in one corner that was all tile with some showerheads. We were sprayed off and dried off as they had salon workers there doll us up before we were subjected to 'labor sensitivity testing'.

I tried explaining that I'm six months but they had ten different men with huge cocks fuck my pussy. A few even tried my ass, too, to see if I was susceptible to being induced. Nope. My womb can handle all the punishment Georgia can throw at it. I commute on public transportation, doesn't matter how pregnant I am, men try to fuck the babies out of me, like, every day. No luck! So, after that they told me I was OK'd to go home, as my babies weren't quite big enough for them to put me in the C-section area with all those other bored influencer girls.

So, with my hospital bracelet, purse, and jewelry as my only clothing, they spanked me on my way out the door of the hospital and told me not to be a stranger. I walked home naked, got fucked about ten times on the way back. I was even paid by a few guys who thought I was turning tricks. Guess I can add whore to my resume now. I even got fucked in line, paying for my coffee. The man behind me didn't say a word. I started paying and he just rammed his cock in me and started fucking me. Big fat nerdy guy, but his cock was big. Probably hasn't showered in a week. Instead of telling him to stop having his way with me, another cashier opened a different register, and they said nothing until he came inside me, spanked me, then smacked my belly a few times while climaxing. The cashier finally told me I was holding up the line after that, and I left, not before one of my neighbors fucked me as I checked our mailbox. He apologized afterword and told me I look incredibly sexy so pregnant. I thanked him and reminded him I'm only six months.... Now it's time for a shower. After that I might go back out. Who knows.... another ambulance might spot me. ❤️"

[sparklesdogs]

Hello hello 👋😊

Thank you for answering my asks! :))

I really love your au so much it literally scratches that spider optimus itch and that tfa itch that has been bothering me when i read the scrapped season four plans and realized that hasbro are cowards and should have renewed the show for more seasons.

But I have a question what happened to the Dinobots? Are they still kicking or they all got scrapped? And is wasp or anyone else going to get turned into an Predacon?

After the events of the Archa Seven accident did both Sentinel and Elita get demoted or did they have to return back to the academy due to the higher ups realizing that they aren’t ready yet.

And I’m sorry if I’m over sending too many asks and questions your fanfic is literally in my brain rent free

(I can’t wait for the next chapter, but please take your time to write and answer) :33

★彡

Hey hey!

I'm glad to hear that it scratches your spider Optimus itch! It was an AU that I thought about a lot when I was first getting into the TFA fandom- even before Arachnus Prime was revealed to the public lol. I wrote Those Abandoned and honestly didn't think I was going to make a sequel. But I got the sudden inspiration one day and wrote like.. 4 chapters in one go and thought "hey, why not?"

I was so upset when I saw that there was a planned season 4 that was never released too! Shattered Glass?? Role swap?? A TF fan's best dreams were destroyed with that season not getting made. Although, to be fair, they stopped it from getting made so that Prime could come out. I wouldn't have minded both shows co-existing though..

For the Dinobots, yes, they're still kicking. They're over on Dinobot island. I'm not sure how much I'll go into depth about their origin 'cause it's basically the same from the show. It just happened before Orion's group arrived. I will say one thing: It was First Aid who helped them escape ;).

For Predacons, I'm probably not going to include them. In the show, they're made by Blackarachnia. Since she doesn't exist here and it's Orion instead.. I'm not. Maybe if he was more scientifically-inclined like Blackarachnia was in the show, but since he isn't and is more of a general or a commander and actually has a crew, he doesn't feel the need to make "more like him".

The incident on Archa Seven definitely went a lot different. In the show, Optimus is very much a push-over when it comes to taking responsibility (Sentinel shoves him under the bus on MULTIPLE occasions and he still doesn't say anything). In my AU, it was Sentinel and Elita who were brought forth to answer what happened. Elita is more bull-headed and stubborn than Optimus and I doubt she'd let Sentinel throw her under the bus. So, they were both punished since neither would admit to being at fault. Plus, I think, out of the 3, Ultra Magnus could recognize that Optimus and Elita were the better candidates for Magnus rather than Sentinel. So, he gave Sentinel and Elita an equal punishment to seem like he is fair, but in reality, it's so that Elita kinda still has a back door into getting back in.

But then Rodimus appeared and I think he is now the best candidate, so that's why he takes Rodimus everywhere and gives him valuable experiences. You may have noticed that Rodimus, unlike Sentinel, is actually fairly diplomatic. Ultra Magnus recognized that Rodimus would be willing to learn and has done so well. Rodimus is definitely still immature off to the side (because I love his LL and MTMTE self), but he's serious when he needs to be.

Don't worry about sending too many asks! Like I said, I love answering questions about this AU!

[sauntering-down]

Girl There’s Demons: CoB, Chapters 8-9

Thank goodness Simon’s going to show up again soon.  Spending an extended amount of time alone with Jace and Clary, uh, reminds me very strongly why I disliked both of them Back In The Day.

Having been flung through the five-dimensional door, Clary falls into a tree, followed by the ground, and Jace lands on top of her.  They snark about it, naturally.

“You didn’t have to come after me.” “Yes, I did,” he said.  “You’re far too inexperienced to protect yourself in a hostile situation without me.” “That’s sweet.  Maybe I’ll forgive you.” “Forgive me?  For what?” “For telling me to shut up.” (p.111)

Sigh.  We interrupt this flirty banter with a revelation – Clary knows exactly where they are!  They landed in front of Luke’s house-slash-bookstore!  Apparently the Portal takes you wherever you’re thinking of; she says she wasn’t thinking of anywhere, but she was thinking she wanted to see where her mother intended to go, so.  Here we are.  I wish I lived behind little independent bookstore I ran.  Luke’s got it fuckin’ made.  Clary wants to leave because Luke said he wouldn’t help her earlier.  Jace wants to break in because he’s Jace.  He hops the backyard fence and lands on something that yells, then gives chase while Clary climbs over too, tearing Isabelle’s over-long jeans in the process.

“Get the hell off me, you pretentious asshole,” the intruder snarled, shoving at Jace. (p.114)

Simon nails Jace’s entire personality in a single line, and without having ever heard Jace say more than eight words.  We love to see it.

“Of course he didn’t know I was there,” Simon said irritably.  “I’ve never asked him, but I’m sure he has a fairly stringent policy about random teenagers lurking in his shrubbery.” (p.114)

All of these characters sound exactly the same.

I don’t really have much commentary about that.  It’s simply an observation.  If it was unclear who said it, you could attribute this line to Simon or Jace or Clary and it would be perfectly IC for all these smarmy snappy witty pains in my arse.  Used a little more sparingly, or as a quirk of just one or two characters, The Endless Snark can hit really well.  But you know what I call a story when there’s a clever exchange on basically every single page and everyone has a biting wit straight out of Buffy?

Fanfiction.

There.  I said it.  Clare got her start as a fanfic writer (I believe she also had a career as a journalist?  Don’t quote me on that, I’m not sure) and at this point, her first few books that were traditionally published, it is extremely obvious.

I thought I’d done something to piss you off.” “What could you possibly have done?” Clary reached for his hand, but he pulled it back without looking at her. “I don’t know,” he said.  “Something.” Jace, still occupied with the stele, chuckled low under his breath. (p.115)

…you’re just begging for that torturous pseudo-incest subplot, bucko.

“Yeah, well, you clearly also couldn’t be bothered to call me and tell me you were shacking up with some dyed-blond wanna-be goth you probably met at Pandemonium,” Simon pointed out sourly. (p.115)

I understand why Simon and Clary are such good friends, by the way.  No, it’s not shared interests or a long history or anything like that.  They’re both just great at making snap judgements about people they don’t know.  Like, on the previous page it’s stated that Jace, while present, is sitting off to the side of the porch and pretending to ignore them while they talk.  And I’m sure if he’d had anything to say during the conversation, we would have been forced to read every excruciating witty word.  So he’s probably been quiet since catching Simon (and, yes, making a snarky remark about thinking he’d gotten something important).  Simon was incapable of seeing this guy on either of the two occasions he might have met him.  He does not know Jace at all, the same way Clary knew nothing about those fake-tanned girls on the subway except that they look like the girls at her school she hates.  I was joking earlier about him getting Jace’s personality right, but he doesn’t know that!  Yet here he is, judging – Jace is blond-haired and I guess wearing black or something and… he’s a mean pretentious mall goth who dyes his hair…?

I don’t even fucking like Jace!  Why are you making me defend him?!  He hasn’t done anything yet!

Right, anyway.  Clary takes some exception to the term ‘shacking up’, but probably not as much as I do.  It comes across a little too questionable to me.  Clary disappeared for a few days and turned up in the company of a boy Simon doesn’t know?  They must have hooked up.  Even if he doesn’t really believe that and he’s just running his mouth, I don’t like it.  Watch yourself, kid.

“Do you really have a great-aunt Matilda who contracted avian flu and needed to be nursed back to health?” “Did Luke actually say that?” “No.  (p.115)

Snark on every goddamn page.  Simon spied on Luke and noticed he was packing to leave.

“Knives, a couple daggers, even a sword.  Funny thing is, some of the weapons looked like they were glowing.” (p.116)

So, since Simon’s already suspicious and Clary isn’t bound to the Covenant (i.e. don’t tell mundanes shit) like Jace, she simply tells him everything.  Thankfully, we don’t have to read it all again or I would’ve stabbed myself in the throat.  That’s not a criticism, btw – I’m rereading, so I know most of the exposition already.  It wouldn’t have been tedious otherwise.

His eyes were narrowed, as if he half-expected her to tell him that none of it was true and Jace was actually a dangerous escaped lunatic she’d decided to befriend on humanitarian grounds. (p.117)

The frustrating thing is that Clare is good at writing all the witticisms, because this is funny!  There are just way too many of them, and it gets on my nerves.

[Simon] had a stronger practical streak than almost anyone else she knew; he might hate knowing something like this, something for which there was no logical explanation. (p.117)

Simon?  Simon?!  You’re afraid this fuckin’ nerd will reject your explanation on principle?!

He immediately compares it to Dungeons & Dragons.  Fantastic.  Actually, I like this; Simon accepts what Clary’s telling him without hesitation, and not just because he thinks it’s awesome.  They’re friends.  They’ve been best friends for a long time and they’re pretty ride-or-die-or-turn-you-into-a-vampire for one another, and this sells that well.  Simon does also ask if some vampires are hot, because he has Priorities.

Clary worried for a moment that Jace might lunge across the porch and throttle Simon senseless.  Instead, he considered the question.  “Some of them, maybe.” “Awesome,” Simon repeated.  Clary decided she had preferred it when they were fighting. (p.118)

Don’t worry, they’ll get back on that soon enough.  The love triangle, you know?  And then eventually they’ll work it out through a little homoerotic blood-drinking and be reasonably civil to one another from that point on.

…there’s a bit in CoHF (which I only recall because I mentioned it in that liveblog to Anita) where Simon’s about to be memory-wiped or something and says he always liked Alec more than Jace.  Talk about damning with faint praise.  They decide to break into the bookstore, which Jace can do because Not-Magic.  Simon’s already back to hating him.

No amount of vampire babes, Clary suspected, was ever going to make him like Jace. “He’s a piece of work, isn’t he?” Simon muttered.  “How do you stand him?” (p.119)

You ain’t seen nothing yet, Simon.  Inside the bookstore’s stockroom, they find something… suspicious (not kinky, Clary insists)… a pair of manacles chained to a wall, coated with dry blood.  I know Luke is a werewolf, but I don’t recall when the characters learn this.  They enter the apartment next – it’s absolutely stuffed with books, which both Clary and I approve of – and there are signs Luke’s around, or at least has been here very recently.  She gets a bag of her things she keeps in his spare bedroom.

It was covered with buttons, most of which Simon had given her.  GAMERS DO IT BETTER.  OTAKU WENCH.  STILL NOT KING. (p.121)

Yes, Clare has stuck a sneaky little reference to one of her mindbogglingly popular fanfics in her published work.  I have no idea how to feel about this, tbh.  I never actually read the one she’s referencing.  I did read some of the Draco Trilogy – the first two and what she’d posted of the third at the time.  Do not recall a single thing about them, including how much I liked them.  I do know I never went back and finished reading the third, so maybe I wasn’t all that into it?  No idea.

Quickly she changed, stripping off Isabelle’s too-big – and now grass-stained and sweaty – clothes, and pulling on a pair of her own sandblasted cords, soft as worn paper, and a blue tank top with a design of Chinese characters across the front. (p.122)

I only quote this to ask how much you guys wanna bet her shirt says something offensive and she has no idea.

Jace is in Luke’s office, where Luke’s Bag O’ Weapons is on the desk.  Luke collects things, Clary says, so maybe he’s just been collecting chakrams (Hodge’s favorite weapon) or whatever.  Luke’s also collected a framed photo from Clary’s apartment.  Dorothea never mentioned his visit, which Jace thinks might mean something… and then they’re interrupted by Simon, who says Luke is coming and there are two people (warlocks, according to Jace) with him.  The three of them hide behind a screen near the desk.  Jace uses a rune to turn the screen into what’s basically a one-way window.  Here’s Luke, and here are his warlock visitors – one a gray-haired man and the other a big redhead with purple skin.

Jace didn’t answer.  He had gone rigid all over, stiff as a bar of iron.  He’s afraid I’ll make a run for it, try to get to Luke, Clary thought. (p.125)

Oh, honey, no.  Jace is too busy having traumatic flashbacks to give a damn what you’re doing.  I clown on Jace a lot for being awful, and of course he has the necessary Tragic Backstory to qualify him as a Brooding White Boyfriend, but he is sincerely traumatized by his father’s “murder” (there’s a detail later on about the blood soaking his shoes that’s stuck with me all this time) and I’m not a total bitch so I can scrape up a smidge of sympathy.  Fear not, he’ll squander it soon.  One of the warlocks – Pangborn – refers to Luke by his actual surname, which is Graymark.  Luke’s also looking pretty banged up, and his casual conversation with the warlocks make it pretty clear he’s, uh, supremely mixed up in whatever business of Jocelyn’s he didn’t want to get mixed up in.

“Do you remember the Uprising, Lucian?” [Pangborn] said softly.  “That was a great and terrible day.  Do you remember how we trained together for the battle?” (p.126)

Spoiler alert (and it’s stated outright on the next page), Luke is, like Jocelyn, secretly a Shadowhunter.  But not quite, because he ceased to physically be a Shadowhunter when he was turned into a werewolf.  Summarizing a bit more here, Jocelyn hid the Mortal Cup, which Valentine did not actually destroy as Hodge stated.  Valentine has Jocelyn, but she’s unconscious and not waking up, so he can’t torture her or whatever into talking.  Clary wonders if they’re talking about Her Mother Jocelyn, because, idk, maybe Luke’s claims adjuster is also called Jocelyn??  Luke insists he doesn’t care much about her and isn’t going to interfere.

“Don’t play dumb,” said Blackwell in his snarl of a voice.  “We know the bitch had a daughter.  They found photos of her in the apartment, a bedroom –” “I thought you were asking about children of mine,” Luke interrupted smoothly.  “Yes, Jocelyn had a daughter.  Clarissa.  I assume she’s run off.  Did Valentine send you to find her?” (p.127)

I’m not sure if we’re supposed to believe at any point that Luke’s serious and not just… blatantly lying all over the place to protect Clary.  Not my first read, no idea if I bought it the first time.  Luke does not give a crap about Jocelyn, no really, he’s sure Clary’s dead and doesn’t care about her either, no really, and he’s getting the hell out of dodge before Valentine goes nuclear in search of the Mortal Cup.

“We could stop you,” said Blackwell.  “Make you stay.” Luke smiled.  It transformed his face.  Suddenly he was no longer the kind, scholarly man who’d pushed Clary on the swings at the park and taught her how to ride a tricycle.  Suddenly there was something feral behind his eyes, something vicious and cold.  “You could try.” (p.129)

Luke, Pangborn, and Blackwell exit stage right.  We won’t be seeing any of them again for a while.  I don’t remember exactly what happens to Pangborn and Blackwell, so I’ve no clue when or where they’ll turn up.

“At least now we know who would send a demon after your mother.  Those men think she has the Mortal Cup.” Clary felt her lips thin into a straight line.  “That’s totally ridiculous and impossible.” (p.130)

Girl There’s Demons!  Your last few days have been ridiculous and impossible.  Jocelyn secretly having the Mortal Cup?  At this point, it’d be more shocking if she didn’t.  And yeah, technically she doesn’t, but she did hide it, so…

“Do I know them?” [Jace] echoed.  “You might say that.  Those are the men who murdered my father.” (p.130)

…this would have been way, way more impactful had Isabelle not already told us Jace’s father was killed in front of him.

Chapter nine starts off with Jace stonewalling Clary’s attempt to give him a nice comforting arm-touch.  And then OH MY GOD –

The moon hung like a locket over the city, (p.131)

THIS FUCKING SIMILE LMAO.

It’s amazing.  I understand exactly what it’s trying to say, and yet it’s so stupid I have never been able to forget it.  tbh I almost thought I had imagined it, or attributed it to the wrong book, but no.  Here it is.  Bask in its tortured glory.

Jace was scary-calm.  His face was expressionless, but something burned at the backs of his tawny eyes. (p.132)

‘Amber’ just ain’t enough for our love interest, eh?  Simon’s startled that demon hunters take the subway, and even more unimpressed by the broken-down, filthy dump that is the Institute.  It doesn’t really look like that, of course, it’s just ~glamoured~.

There it was: the true vision, glowing through the false one like light through dark glass.  She saw the soaring spires of the cathedral, the dull gleam of the leaded windows, the brass plate fixed to the stone wall beside the door, the Institute’s name etched into it. (p.133)

The property taxes must be insane.

“You’ll be the first mundane who has ever been inside the Institute.” “Probably the smell keeps the rest of them away.” “Ignore him,” Clary said to Jace, and elbowed Simon in the side.  “He always says exactly what comes into his head.  No filters.” (p.133)

Thank goodness everything that comes into his head is sharp-witted and appropriate!  Would really suck if he was one of those no-filter people who tended to say the wrong thing.  And we know it’s not entirely true, besides – if it was, he would’ve told Clary how he felt about her and the love triangle would already have commenced.

She was beginning to recognize some of [the runes] – they tantalized her sight the way half-heard words in a foreign language sometimes tantalized her hearing, as if by just concentrating harder she could force some meaning out of them. (p.134)

…I quoted this and immediately forgot why.  Maybe it’ll come back to me.

In a few seconds Church appeared, slinking low to the ground, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dusty air.  “Church,” Jace said, kneeling down to stroke the cat’s gray head.  “Where’s Alec, Church?  Where’s Hodge?” (p.134)

Oh god no.  Please don’t do this to me again.  There’s only so much bullshit I can take.

“I don’t like cats,” Simon said, his shoulder bumping Clary’s as they maneuvered the narrow hallway. “It’s unlikely,” Jace said, “knowing Church, that he likes you either.” (p.134)

Simon, you have bad opinions.  And Church seems to like Jace just fine… maybe he’s fattening him up to eat him?  I’ll assume that’s how Will eventually met his end.  Make it a family tradition.  Simon’s kind of nervous about being in this place, does not trust Jace, but he trusts Clary and when she says he doesn’t have to stay, he’s like Girl There’s Demons, I’m sticking with you.  They wind up in the kitchen, where Isabelle’s… concocting.

Steam was rising from the pot, and ingredients were strewn everywhere – tomatoes, chopped garlic and onions, strings of dark-looking herbs, grated piles of cheese, some shelled peanuts, a handful of olives, and a whole fish, its eye staring glassily upward. (p.136)

Choices were made here!  But perhaps there’s a method to her madness, right?  Right now, she’s just mad, because Simon is not supposed to be in the Institute, legally speaking.

“JACE WAYLAND,” she said.  “Explain yourself.” Jace was glaring at the cat.  “I told you to bring me to Alec!  Backstabbing Judas.” (p.136)

Two things.  One, Church, you’re my hero.  Of all these Horrible Teens, Isabelle is the only one I’ve not wanted to bludgeon with a sink.  Yet.  I’m barely a quarter of the way through this book, so there’s time still.  And two, Jace, what on earth makes you think Alec would have a more favorable reaction?  If anything, he’s probably inclined to be worse!

[Simon] was too busy staring at Isabelle, rapt and openmouthed.  Of course, Clary realized with a sharp stab of annoyance.  Isabelle was exactly Simon’s type – tall, glamourous, and beautiful.  Come to think of it, maybe that was everyone’s type.  Clary stopped wondering about the peanut-fish-olive-tomato soup and started wondering what would happen if she dumped the contents of the pot on Isabelle’s head. (p.137)

(throws a chair) Isabelle hasn’t done a thing except exist while pretty!  Her being tall and beautiful and drawing Simon’s attention is not some kind of personal attack on you!  Why don’t you tell him to put his tongue back in his mouth?!

I went on a tear in chapter five - remember, I was bitching because we’re told Clary is shy and clumsy and there’s no evidence either of these is true?  We’re also told she’s insecure about her appearance, and that is conveyed repeatedly, making it much more believable.  And her negative self-image is subtly undermined by both Jace and Simon (and Sebastian but we are Not Going There) being attracted to her, suggesting Raggedy Ann actually is appealing.  She’s just not seeing it because she’s fifteen and comparing herself to someone who better fits her concept of what a beautiful woman looks like.  It makes perfect sense.

It is also so annoying.  There’s no evidence Clary has a single physical feature that could seriously be considered unattractive.  You’re slender and fair-skinned with long red hair and (I think) green eyes and a perfectly acceptable face but oh gross, you have freckles?  I’ll trade you.  Puberty hit me like a truck, then backed over me and ran me down a few more times for good measure.  There’s a reason I don’t post pictures of myself taken after the turn of the millennium.  I just cannot with this sort of thing.  Lest you think I’m struggling to tap into the endless well of self-loathing a teenage girl can have for her appearance, I hated this in 2008, too, when I was a lot closer to her age.

This is a Me Problem, I know.  Fortunately (or unfortunately), this is also a Me Production, written and hosted by Me, so I can do what I want.  You know where the back button is if it’s not your thing.

“If you knew how to cook, maybe I would eat,” Jace muttered. Isabelle froze, her spoon poised dangerously.  “What did you say?” Jace edged toward the fridge.  “I said I’m going to look for a snack to eat.” “That’s what I thought you said.” (p.137)

Isabelle can’t cook, but bless her, she tries.  I respect that.  Maybe someone else should give it a shot for a change if they don’t like what she’s making, hmmmm?

The inside of the fridge was filled with milk cartons whose expiration dates reached back several weeks, and plastic Tupperware containers labeled with masking tape lettered in red ink: HODGE’S.  DO NOT EAT. (p.138)

Hodge: Look, I’m just the librarian-slash-tutor, I ain’t fucking feeding these kids.  If they die of starvation and/or foodborne illness, that’s on them.

He seemed awfully calm, she thought, not scary-calm as he had been before, but more contained than he ought to be.  She wondered how often he let glimpses of his real self peek through the façade that was as hard and shiny as the coat of lacquer on one of her mother’s Japanese boxes. (p.138-139)

Yes, yes, he has a tough childhood and traumatic experiences and stoic manpain and distracting snark and tawny eyes.  We’ve noticed.

Jagged bits of dark hair fell into [Simon’s] eyes; he looked stupidly dazed, Clary thought unkindly, as if someone had hit him across the back of the head with a two-by-four. (p.139)

That was me, sorry.  Jace and Clary are going to find Hodge, and Simon’s the only person willing to risk his life on Isabelle’s soup.

“No, you don’t,” said Jace.  “You just want to sleep with Isabelle.” (p.139)

Jace, I say this with all the love in the world – go fuck yourself.

“Go ahead and ask her – then she can turn you down and the rest of us can get on with our lives while you fester in miserable humiliation.”  He snapped his fingers.  “Hurry up, mundie boy, we’ve got work to do.” Simon looked away, flushed with embarrassment.  Clary, who a moment ago would have been meanly pleased, felt a rush of anger toward Jace.  “Leave him alone,” she snapped.  “There’s no need to be sadistic just because he isn’t one of you.” (p.139)

Bite him, Clary.  Good god.  Here’s that sibling resemblance you were looking for earlier… they may not be blood-related, but both Jace and Alec are mean.  Jace sharpens to a point and nails the spot that’ll hurt the worst and twists the knife as deep as he can, though, whereas Alec’s just a blunt instrument.  Simon decides to stay behind while Clary follows Jace, and I do not blame him.  He’s tougher than I am – I would have said ‘screw this’ and left, probably while crying because I am a huge baby.

“I was trying to save him some pain.  Isabelle will cut out his heart and walk all over it in high-heeled boots.  That’s what she does to boys like that.” “Is that what she did to you?” Clary said, but Jace only shook his head before turning to Church. (p.140)

I hope she turned him down as cruelly as possible, but I’m not holding my breath.  Honestly, I’m still reeling a bit over the previous quote.  No matter how weird and isolated his upbringing was, Jace is not remotely socially-inept or unaware what effect his words might be having on other people, so I can’t find a way to brush it off.  He’s just a douche, and he might be targeting Simon because he knows Simon likes Clary too, and that doesn’t make it any less horrible.  Christ.

Clary, trailing a little behind Jace, could see the stress and tiredness in the line of Jace’s shoulders.  She wondered if the tension ever really left him. (p.141)

WOW SOMEHOW I DON’T FEEL SORRY FOR HIM AT ALL.  But Clary does; she apologizes for snapping at him so much, and he allows that he snaps at her too.  Because something about her is ~unsettling~.  Sigh.  He mentions that normally Isabelle doesn’t make dinner because her mother does it when she’s home, and Maryse can actually cook.  She did not teach her daughter because Shadowhunter society is sexist as hell, which probably also explains why she doesn’t seem to have taught her son or Jace either.

I mean, there have always been women in the Clave – mastering the runes, creating weaponry, teaching the Killing Arts – but only a few were warriors, ones with exceptional abilities.  They had to fight to be trained.  Maryse was a part of the first generation of Clave women who were trained as a matter of course – and I think she never taught Isabelle how to cook because she was afraid that if she did, Isabelle would be relegated to the kitchen permanently.” (p.141-142)

I’ll assume Maryse is… early forties?  That guess may actually be on the high side; Shadowhunters tend to marry and have children pretty young.  Since Alec is eighteen, she’s gotta be at least thirty-seven.  It isn’t important, I’m just thinking out loud.  What is important: this is not a progressive society.  They have some pretty strict gender roles, which sorta ties into what I said a couple chapters ago about cultural expectations.  That said, Maryse ain’t doing her kids, biological or otherwise, any favors by not teaching them how to cook.  Hodge should start booby-trapping his meals.

Next up is a bit we’ve already discussed, that of Isabelle being one of the best Shadowhunters Jace has ever met.  Hodge is in the rooftop greenhouse and Jace and Clary go up.  I won’t copy the description, so you’ll have to take my word for it when I say it sounds lovely, and I’m pretty jealous right now.  Jace mentions it smells like home to him.  It’s subtle – he’s all stoic manpain, naturally – but he reads as very homesick at times and it’s one of the few endearing aspects of his personality… which is currently tempered by the fact I still want to push him off the roof.  Jace and Clary explain to Hodge what happened to them, leaving out the fact that the warlocks at Luke’s were the same two who killed Jace’s father.  Hodge is Big Disturbed by their names.

“It is as I feared,” he said, half to himself.  “The Circle is rising again.” (p.144)

It’s More Exposition Time!  Back in the library, Hodge digs up a book.

He cleared his throat before he read aloud: “I hereby render unconditional obedience to the Circle and its principles… I will be ready to risk my life at any time for the Circle, in order to preserve the purity of the bloodlines of Idris, and for the mortal world with whose safety we are charged.” (p.145)

Clary says what we’re all thinking, especially after that bit about bloodlines, and calls it a fascist organization.

“They were a group,” he said slowly, “of Shadowhunters, led by Valentine, dedicated to wiping out all Downworlders and returning the world to a ‘purer’ state.  Their plan was to wait for the Downworlders to arrive in Idris to sign the Accords.  They must be signed again each fifteen years, to keep their magic potent,” he added, for Clary’s benefit.  “Then, they planned to slaughter them all, unarmed and defenseless.  This terrible act, they thought, would spark off a war between humans and Downworlders – one they intended to win.” (p.145-146)

Cool.  Love me some discount Manson Family.  Jace realizes Hodge is talking about the Uprising, but is surprised he knows so much about the Circle, which isn’t really discussed.  Hodge just happens to have the oath… which he helped write… because, duh, he was in it, as was Clary’s mother.

“I know what you said!  My mother would never have belonged to something like that.  Some kind of – some kind of hate group.” “It wasn’t –” Jace began, but Hodge cut him off. (p.146)

No, she’s right, it was.  And then Hodge drops the bomb that Jocelyn was Valentine’s wife. 

GASP.

[mha-cuties-pls]

One Last Look.

Pairing: reader x Dabi | words: 1k | rating: T |genre: emotional/romance

Bonus Chapter for: ‘Stolen Hearts.” Read Here

Each day seemed to pass by slower than the next as your stomach swelled to the size of a large balloon; it looked like you were a cartoon character who had eaten a watermelon in one bite.

It was becoming a bit more uncomfortable than you had originally imagined.

“Dabiii,” you whined, not moving from the position you had been occupying on the couch for the past day or so. Stretching your arms and feet out a bit, you sighed contently under the warmth of the plush blanket he had gotten you; it was cheetah print, your favorite.

“Yes, my love?” His voice carried from the other room over the TV show you were watching. Walking in to face you, you watched as he put on his jacket and grabbed a hat;

was he leaving you again already?

“We’re out of popcorn.” You said with a deflated look on your face, “I was going to ask you to get me some, but it looks like you already have plans.” The last of your words came out with a ‘huff’ as you turned your nose away from him and crossed your arms over your chest.

An exasperated sigh left his mouth while he made his way over to where you sat, “baby,” he said, voice smooth as he took your hands in his, and he convinced you to finally look into those ocean blue eyes that mesmerized you so much. “Baby, listen, please; you know I have to go out and do my job with the guys sometimes,” then, you watched him crouch down on his knees, and cup your swollen stomach tenderly in his hands as he laid his face against it and said, “but I will always make it back to you guys. Do you understand me?” The feeling of his voice vibrating on your stomach felt good, like you were more at ease.

He was using his serious voice; it made you smile.

“Of course we understand you, daddy.” You joked, smirking at him while you said it. You knew he loved it when you call him that. “You don’t always have to be so serious about everything.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly come by you by honest means,” Dabi grumbled as he shoved his feet into his heavy boots by the door, “so, forgive me for being a bit overprotective.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked up and threw your arms over his shoulders, capturing him in an embrace before he was able to go.

“You think it’d be okay if I went down to the store and got it myself?” You asked, looking up through your lashes, hoping it would win you a few extra points. He hasn’t been so generous letting you out lately, which you suspect is because of your current gestational state but; The time you spent here could get so boring sometimes, and you missed going to the supermarket.

Though, Dabi stood silent for a moment as he stared back at you in contemplation. “Okay,” he finally muttered, “but Ashahi is driving you.” Which meant basically you’ll have one of his right hand guys breathing down your neck the whole time, but the excitement of getting to go to a supermarket overshadowed any other feelings.

“Thank you!” You quipped happily, “I’m going to freshen up quickly then I’ll be ready to go!”

And as you carted off to your room to do whatever it was, Dabi watched you with a warm smile.

…

Walking down the aisles of fresh produce, you were suddenly so glad you decided to stop at a farmers market you had seen a sign for around the way. Being able to see all the fresh fruits and vegetables and other commodities sold right to you is something, you didn’t know you missed. And it feels good to be back.

It’s funny, you thought to yourself, the last time you were at one of these things was with-

“_____?”

You froze. That voice, it couldn’t be-

“_____.” He said, his voice barely a whisper, and more somber this time.

But you couldn’t ignore him; you had to look.

Your eyes were wide as your mouth hung open; there, when you turned, was Shouto.

Standing there.

Staring.

And then you two just kept standing there, staring. Not saying anything; not until you grabbed your stomach instinctively, and watched as his face paled.

Oh no.

“Is…” he started, his face starting to twist up, “is that…” trailing off, his dual colored eyes left yours, becoming fixated on your pregnant belly. “Is that his?” He finally whispered, disgust dripping from every word; and it made you freeze up.

You just stood there, like a deer in headlights, looking like an absolute chump while you sat across from him.

Fuck, you screamed internally, you couldn’t believe this was happening. That he was seeing you like this; it was weird, it was like looking back at another life. You almost remembered what it used to feel like when-

Thankfully though, you felt a strong, but friendly, presence grab your arm and pull you away from the area quickly; it was the guy Dabi sent to watch you.

Turning back once more to look at him, you watched Todorokis face as he slowly disappeared into the sea of the crowd as you were guided into your car.

You never thought you would see him again. It sent a pang through your heart; you even felt a bit wistful. Maybe times weren’t as bad as you thought;

The door was shut behind you quickly, taking you out of your trance and you gazed out the window as Asahi drove you away in the quiet luxury of his private car.

Releasing a sigh, you realized how glad you were that Dabi had forced him to come with you in the first place. And you just couldn’t wait until this little excursion to the store was over and he finally came home so you could see him again.

He was right of course, you didn’t need anything else in the world, but him.

Besides, as the pregnancy progressed you realized that perhaps you could use a few of his little henchmen, who run around trying to hard to impress him, rubbing your swollen pregnant feet. It’s the least they could do for the woman carrying his precious little creation.

“Do you think he’ll follow us, miss ____?” His henchman asked, a worried look in his eyes as he checked the mirrors frantically as we drove away.

“No,” you said without another thought; though it didn’t matter what you said, Asahi was already making a move to alert Dabi.

But as you drove away, you knew he wouldn’t try to follow you. You saw the look on his face.

He was broken;

And it was all your fault.