#and he’s always in the background for these two and their motivations

[maxdibert]

What are your headcanons on Severus and the Malfoys? Do you think he genuinely considered them friends, or was it part of his cover? Or were they ever really friends at some point?

I have so much to say about this! I actually have two different versions of the story, and I think both of them could be canon. I can never decide between them because both seem plausible, so I’ll share my opinion on each and let everyone decide which one fits best.

Despite being a poor, scruffy, half-blood kid from a working-class background, I think Lucius took Severus under his wing because, after all, Lucius was already a 15-year-old teenager who was likely quite involved in pure-blood extremist circles and had probably heard of Voldemort by then. He was probably trying to make a good impression by recruiting as many people as possible. And despite Severus’ background, treating him with respect was a pretty shrewd move to maintain unity within Slytherin and promote that “us against the world” mentality. This would ultimately foster the cult-like environment that developed during that era. I also think that, after seeing that Severus, beyond his background, had a strong interest and talent for the Dark Arts and was a good student, Lucius probably saw that Severus’ skills could be useful, which is why he kept him under his wing. Lucius Malfoy is often portrayed as a snobbish buffoon, but besides being a shrewd man, he’s part of high society, old money. And even the classist aristocrats know how to make use of the working class and recognize talent because, historically, they’ve maintained their position by exploiting such talent.

I think Lucius and Severus maintained that mentor-pupil relationship for many years, and once Lucius graduated, he intervened to help Severus be accepted and valued within his House while also using him as a sort of personal charity project. Like Cher in Clueless (who’s based on Emma Woodhouse from Jane Austen) taking on an awkward kid from the North without wealth or pedigree and turning him into someone fit for high magical society—a kind of social experiment, if you will. I think this made Severus feel indebted to him, at least before Voldemort killed Lily. I also believe that, during Severus’ school years, his gratitude stemmed not only from this “mentorship” but also from the fact that, for the first time, someone believed in him and motivated him to pursue his ambitions. Lucius was like a father/older brother figure whom he respected and appreciated for seeing him as more than just a poor kid with nothing.

That said, my interpretation of their relationship splits into two possibilities once Severus becomes a double agent.

On one hand, there’s the idea that, after Lily’s death, feeling guilty and determined to actively work for Voldemort’s downfall, Severus emotionally distanced himself from the Malfoys as much as possible. The relationship they developed over the next 18 years would then be solely a means to an end—to gain favor with someone influential within the Ministry and among the most important dark wizards. Deep down, it was all a façade because the Malfoys also represented everything he despised and regretted being a part of, so he decided to cut off any emotional attachment to them. Basically: it was all fake.

The other version, and the one I prefer because it feels more realistic, is that Severus, as the abused and abandoned child he was, would always experience cognitive dissonance toward people who treated him well during his most vulnerable years. It’s something evident in his view of Lily, even though he was joining a group that literally wanted to kill people like her, and I can see it applying to his view of the Malfoys as well. Though they were a family actively working to end people like Lily, and Severus would ultimately have to confront them if it came to it, he’d still struggle to sever his emotional ties with the Malfoys. Just as he couldn’t understand why his friendship with Lily was ending because of his choices, I don’t think he’d be able to emotionally cut off the Malfoys, even if he knew they were terrible or knew he might eventually have to face them in battle. Much like how Lily being the first person to treat him with kindness was enough to make him risk everything to atone for his indirect role in her death and his support of Voldemort, I think Lucius “taking him in” also carved out a streak of loyalty in Severus toward his family. Severus strikes me as someone fiercely loyal to anyone who’s shown him kindness or understanding, even if that loyalty is against his own interests. And despite everything, I think he genuinely cared about the Malfoys. While he no longer admired Lucius, I think he still respected him in a certain way, like a younger brother who knows his older brother is a jerk but still sees him as his older brother.

I also think Narcissa had a kind of “older sister” vibe for him—that when she and Lucius were dating and Severus was still a kid, she saw him as this scruffy little guy, like a cute but poor puppy. And that impression probably stuck with him too. I think he always felt more comfortable with her than with Lucius, since she was associated more with the maternal than with authority. While his favoritism toward Slytherins was partly to maintain appearances and partly due to resentment toward Gryffindors, I believe he genuinely liked Draco. This affection, though, was likely another form of cognitive dissonance because Draco was far more similar to James than Harry ever was (in terms of character, classism, and using his status, family name, and influence to torment others). But just as his hatred of Harry was a reflection of his resentment toward James, his affection for Draco was probably a reflection of his relationship with Lucius and Narcissa.

[wonkyradio]

It was a long drive, but I finally made it. Silent Hill. I was raised here. My father lived and died here. I died here before I had the chance to live at all.

Members of bread bank know him already, but I figured I should officially post him to Tumblr. Meet protagonist of my Silent Hill fan game concept, Last Wish! Will is resourceful but paranoid, and compassionate but cowardly. He's a guy with a lot of baggage, and his connection to Walter Sullivan leads him down a path he can't turn back from. You may see more of him here in the future!

Brief background under the cut:

Silent Hill: Last Wish

William 'Will' Dent had his dad (William Dent Sr. 'Bill') killed by the order for looking into and trying to free the children from the prison depicted in sh4, and was the man interviewed by Joseph in his article about 4S (found by Heather in sh3). He spent a short time in the wish house following his father's murder, as the Order had immediate influence over child services in Silent Hill.

He becomes the roommate of a young Walter Sullivan, a sensitive boy, who starts looking up to Will as an older brother after being rescued from bullies. The two bond during Will's short time there, and he became 'Wally's protector and mentor, despite only being a few years older. For him, it was an opportunity to respect his father's legacy, as he'd been taught from a young age that those with strength should always protect those without it.

His mother (Laura Dent) finds out and comes to retrieve him about two months later. His dad was a stay at home father who preferred to live off the grid, his mother often had to go on business trips. She was out of town when the order killed her husband and basically abducted her son. After weeks of searching for where her son was being kept, Laura finally is able to rescue him from the Wish House. Walter pleaded for the opportunity to go with them, but was punished and placed in the child prison by George Rosten for his betrayal of the holy mother. Will never got to say goodbye to him. The fact Will's mother came to retrieve him was used against Walter, motivating him even further to later perform the sacraments.

Laura and Will immediately moved out of Silent Hill and into the city where she worked - Will grows up, struggles with missing his father and the fact his murder was officially unsolved. There are times he thinks of young Wally, and wonders if the boy ever learned to stand up for himself. He kept a gift Walter made him, a small God's Eye, and carried it with him as a reminder to stand up for his ideals even when afraid.

As the years go on he becomes more and more reclusive and cowardly, fearing that one day The Order would come for him. This paranoia and unresolved trauma eventually led to a mental breakdown, landing him in an institution for a short time. Upon being released, the first thing he decided to do was to visit his father's grave in Silent Hill for the first time since his death nearly two decades prior.

He returns to Silent Hill initially only to visit his father's grave, but he gets drawn into town after seeing someone lingering just outside the cemetery. It was Walter Sullivan, shortly after killing one of his first victims. If he wanted to move on, there was one more thing he'd have to do before leaving: find out what happened to Wally, and solve his father's murder.

[ibrithir-was-here]

Ending up doodling another Corinthian Bros AU thing, had the image of the moment Cori 1 realizes he actually likes having Cori 2.0 around, after he almost loses him when they go up against an enemy or something

[hiddenbeks]

hmm. isabeau teaching brynjolf ballroom dances

[girlkisser13]

dating tim drake would include

• tim is really sweet. he’ll kiss you to welcome you home or say goodbye when he goes out on patrol and he’ll happily carry you to bed if you fall asleep on the sofa and makes sure to tell you that he loves you everyday.

• he hacks your computer sometimes (for good reasons though). like you’ll just turn on your computer/laptop and your background is changed to a picture of you and tim together. <33

• even though everyone knows that you’re dating he still gets quite flustered and is prone to blushing if you call him a pet name in front of others. (you’d definitely do this just to see him blush).

• tim has your coffee order memorized (no matter how complicated it is).

• tim is SUPER clingy when he’s sleepy, like he can be needy and just want to hug and kiss you all the time. they’re kinda sloppy because he’s tired but his lust for affection is still cute.

• he cuddles or hugs you any chance he gets to make up for the many hours he spends on his computer away from you.

• since he’s a detective, he notices every detail including anything off about yourself. if something is wrong he will notice immediately no matter how good you are at hiding it, afterward he’d do pretty much anything to make you feel better. (even leave his computer for a day or so).

• he notices everything about you. favorite flower, favorite color, he always seems to notice that you’re cold even before you do and wraps his jacket around you. that intense focus can be a lot, sometimes, a bit overwhelming even. but at the same time you’re touched that he just seems so interested in everything about you. he wants to learn every last detail about you and is willing to take the time to do so.

• tim works really hard and doesn’t keep regular sleep patterns as a result, which means it’s up to you to make sure he gets proper sleep most of the time. plus, you’re one of the few people he actually listens to since you’re basically his favourite person. <33

• you have to learn most of his sweet spots to use against him whenever you’re trying to drag him away from the computer for a break.

• he remembers important dates even if it’s last minute— he still remembers. anniversaries, birthdays, you name it and if it’s anything to do with you then he’ll remember it and usually buys the best gifts for you.

• he celebrates the most ridiculous anniversaries, and he always remembers them. like, “it’s been one year since the first time you held my hand” or “it’s been a month since we went to that fair and rode the ferris wheel”.

• he lets you play with his hair and it’s so entertaining, he doesn’t mind and finds it relaxing when you run your fingers through it, he always checks to see what he looks like after you’ve styled it whether it be a man bun, ponytail, or braids. you told him that he looked good in a loose ponytail once and you he didn’t take it out for whole day.

• the two of you get take out food at least once a week because tim cannot cook to save his life, he just gets too distracted and the food gets burnt. he will also take time just to eat with you and ask about your day rather than work or will watch tv with you.

• tim LOVES watching detective shows with you but but sometimes it can get annoying because will usually ruin the ending by telling you who the criminal is and the exact reasons for his motives so it’s difficult to ignore the fact he just destroyed the next 45 minutes for you.

• he’s a literal genius so if you need help with anything he is on it, he’s actually written your essays for you before but you know that you couldn’t pass them off as your own because it’s not your writing style and you redo them using his basic ideas. you’re very appreciative of his assistance but tell him he doesn’t need to do that for you. however, he shakes it off as if it was nothing.

• he loves you and your acceptance of his coffee loving and sleep-deprived ways. <33

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Write a Character

For creative writing to have as deep an impact as possible, you need to give the reader strong characters they can relate to on a personal level.

By borrowing from tried-and-true character archetypes and giving them your personal spin, you can create heroes, villains, and sidekicks that will affect your readers as if they were real people they knew.

Come up with a backstory

Crafting a backstory can help you flesh out an interesting character profile.

“When I’m dealing with characters,” says legal thriller author David Baldacci, “and I’m trying to explain somebody's situation and motivations, you have to look into their past, because [the] past always drives motivations.”

Ask what experiences your character had in elementary school or high school that shaped who they are today. Your character’s backstory can greatly inform your plot.

Develop a character arc

A character must evolve throughout a story.

“The character has to change,” insists crime fiction writer Walter Mosley. “The character doesn’t have to become better. The character doesn’t have to become good. It could be the opposite. He could start good and become bad. He could start off hopeful and end up a pessimist. But he has to be impacted by this world that we’re reading about.”

Plan out your storyline based on your character's goals and how achieving or not achieving them will change them as people. This sort of template can help anchor your narrative.

Do research

If you plan to set your story in a specific locale or period, do enough research to make your characters seem true to life and believable.

“What does it mean, for instance, in the Tudor era to be a male person?” asks Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale. “What does it mean to be a female person? What do those things mean when they’re at different social levels?”

Empathize with your characters

No matter what the type of character you’re developing, try to find some reason you and your reader can relate to their internal conflict.

“You’re living with these people every single day for months at a time—in some cases, years at a time,” says acclaimed children’s author Judy Blume. “You had better feel for them. So, for me, yes, I have great empathy for them.”

When people can empathize with characters, they’re more likely to find them compelling.

Experiment with different approaches

If you usually write characters from a particular point of view (or POV), change things up to challenge yourself.

“Write about someone entirely through the eyes of their friends and family,” suggests journalist Malcolm Gladwell. “So do a profile of someone where you deliberately never talk to the person that you’re profiling.”

There are plenty of ways to craft compelling character descriptions—free yourself up to try new alternatives.

Give your characters flaws

To craft believable characters, you need to give them flaws.

“One, it makes the characters human, just by default, because everybody recognizes that we all have flaws and mistakes,” David says. “But two, it gives you plot elements and plot opportunities because somebody makes a mistake. Why? Because they’re flawed.”

Learn from real people

Pay attention to real people’s mannerisms, personality traits, body language, and physical appearances.

Do research, and be respectful, when you want to write characters with backgrounds that you are not familiar with. Become familiar with different people's cultures, sexual orientations etc.

Talking to people about their experiences will help form your character’s personality.

Let your characters surprise you

Character development can proceed down a host of different avenues.

“Spend a lot of time with your characters and getting to know them,” Judy suggests. “And the way that you get to know them can be different from the way I get to know them. But my way is: They don’t come alive until I write about them, until I put them down on paper.”

As you write, your character’s motivation or perspective might change from what you originally planned.

Play characters off each other

Ask yourself how a secondary character’s personality might thwart the main character’s motivation.

“One of the best ways, as I said, to develop a character is to put that character in relationship to another person,” Walter says. “So as they talk, as they fight, as they work together, we find out more about who they are and what they are.”

The character’s close friends, adversaries, and acquaintances might all have different effects on their behavior.

Take an organic approach

Over the course of the story, be ready for your characters to surprise you as much as the people you know in real life might, too.

Your characters may take on a life of their own.

Avoid static characters by letting yours have their own lives and personalities. Let their stories take you where they lead.

Writing Notes & References

[angelsforthenight]

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated ����

[junkissed]

too hot to handle

member — junhui x gn!reader genre — sfw, fluff, comfort word count — 1k synopsis — dinner in bed is nice, but sometimes things get a little spicy. warnings — mentions of food and eating, reader doesn't eat/like spicy food (the title is a joke this is not smut it's not even a teeny bit suggestive. just pure fluff !!) notes — requested by @onlymingyus — so actually i am a big fat liar nsjdghf i randomly felt motivated to write jun fluff today bc i miss him so here's a little drabble from my inbox :-) my requests are still closed and i'm still on hiatus-ish, but i hope you enjoy!

the sound of loud slurping noises pulls your attention away from the tv as you lay in bed, tangled up in jun’s side with a bowl of ramen on your lap.

“you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?”

“doing what?” he mumbles through a mouthful of food as he looks up from his bowl, half a noodle still hanging between his lips before he swallows it up.

you stare at him for a moment. the look on his face is so cute that you can't tell if his ignorance is feigned or not, but does it really matter? you're going to let him get away with it either way. “nevermind,” you answer after a minute, and he shrugs and happily goes back to finishing up his dinner.

you stretch your back and relax into the pillows, and automatically jun lifts his arm so you can settle into his side. he always adjusts so you have a comfortable place to lean on, even if it hinders his ability to eat. your elbow rests on his hip as you lay against him, propping yourself up to balance your own bowl.

the tv plays quietly, a new drama that the two of you have been watching together the past few weeks. but it's just background noise; it might as well have been muted, because you'd stopped listening to it a while ago. it's the first night in too long that you've been able to spend time with jun uninterrupted, and you'd much rather focus on him. with both of your busy and exhausting lives, lazy evenings and dinner in bed have become few and far between lately, so you savor every moment you can get with him.

he slurps his ramen again, and now you're sure he was doing it on purpose because this time he does it much quieter than before. you can't help the smile that makes its way onto your face as you bring a spoonful to your own mouth, shaking your head in enamored fondness.

you lean your head back against his shoulder to look up at him. you don't know how he does it. how he manages to make you fold when he's not even trying.

he flashes you a grin when he sees you staring and he slurps from his spoon, this time making it clear he wants you to know he's doing it intentionally. you laugh softly move your head down towards the screen again, but he hums out a little noise and you pause to glance back up at him.

“wait a second,” he says after swallowing the broth in his mouth. he puts down his spoon and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up towards him, two gentle fingers guiding your cheek.

you follow his eyes as he stares down at your lips, and for a second you think he's going to kiss you. but instead he brushes his thumb across your lip, wiping away a stray piece of carrot from the corner of your mouth, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat.

“is that all?” you say, and he lets out a little hum in disagreement as he stares at you. you lick your lips reflexively under his gaze, your eyes never leaving his. the dim light from the tv makes him look even prettier, you think, studying the fuzzy outline of his features in the darkness.

“mmm… no, i think i missed a spot, actually.”

this time he leans down to kiss you and you crane your neck up to meet his lips, breaking into a smile as you feel him press against your mouth. your eyes flutter shut at the familiar movement of his lips moving with yours, so natural and warm and tender like it's the easiest thing in the world.

he pulls away after a second and sighs, settling back against the headboard of the bed and adjusting you in his arms. distantly you hear the drama's theme song playing in the background as the credits of the episode flash across the screen, but you don't care about following the story anymore.

at this moment you're more concerned with the biting warmth spreading across your lips, so you wipe the back of your hand against your mouth, and he lets out a little whine. “hey, why’d you do that?” he pouts. “don't wipe off my kisses. you're making me sad.”

“because you're burning my mouth! your ramen's too spicy for me,” you tease as you pout back at him, reaching across him to set your own half-empty bowl on the nightstand.

he grabs your wrist before you pull back and brings your hand up to his mouth. without having to ask you sigh, knowing what he wants, and you swipe your thumb over his lips even though there's nothing there.

“there. all gone, no more spice,” he hums with a smile and he gently releases your hand. you let your arm fall onto his lap, resting across his body and curling around his waist to pull him closer to you. “now come here and let me kiss you again, i have to replace the one you wiped off.”

you groan and pretend to roll your eyes, but you don't hesitate when he leans back in to capture your lips again. the heat is easy to put up with; you don't mind his spicy kisses, if it means you get to have moments in bed together like this.

“i'm gonna make you brush your teeth before you kiss me next time,” you grumble, but it's not hard to tell that your threats are empty.

jun just giggles and presses his lips against you once more, this time on your cheek by the corner of your mouth, because it's clear you're not serious nor upset. the days of being grossed out by each other have long since passed, and you'll gladly take a sloppy kiss from him any day. “love you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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taglist — located in replies

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

HAT-TRICK

• jude bellingham x gf!reader

• warnings: a little bit suggestive at the end, and English not being my first language.

• summary: Jude Bellingham has been a bit distracted on the field. Maybe what he needs is a little motivation to get back on track, or so his girlfriend thinks...

a/n: make a request!

Jude Bellingham has always been astute, focused, and relentless on the pitch. Since joining Real Madrid, his star had only risen further, making him one of the most talked-about young talents in football. But lately, something had been off. His last few matches were... well, soft by his standars. He hadn´t been himself—no hunger in his tackles, no fire in his eyes, and it didn´t go unnoticed. He sat in the living room, staring at the highlights of his recent match on his phone. His touches hadn´t been sharp, and his focus had wavered at crucial moments.

It wasn´t something massive, no one will call it a slump, not yet at least. However, he could do it better, he knew it, his team and coaches knew it, and of course, she knew it too.

His girlfriend was sharp. She knew him better than anyone, and while some fans and the media were baffled by his recent performances, she had a good guess. He was distracted. He wasn´t driven the way he used to be, and she had an idea why.

That evening, they were together sat in their apartment, the Madrid skyline glowing in the background. She was quiet, scrolling through social media mindlessly, occasionally glancing at him. She could see the frustration in his eyes—his confidence shaken, his usual swagger dimmed. He didn´t need a pep talk; that wasn´t his style. No, he needed something more direct, something to light a fire under him again. An idea had been dangerously lingering her mind, maybe it was a little bit cruel—for both of them, really, nevertheless, she had a good feeling and decided to test it.

She leaned into him on the couch, her hand touching his bare chest. Jude, sensing the shift in her energy, smirked and reached out to pull her closer. His hand slipped down to her ass, clearly intending for things to heat up.

But she had other plans.

She caught his hand and pushed it away gently but firmly.

Jude blinked, surprised, then chuckled softly. "What´s that about?" His fingers brushed her thigh, teasing.

She slid away, folding her arms over her chest. "If you want to touch me, you´ll have to score a hat-trick."

Said out loud, the idea sounded even more ridiculous, and for a moment, she feared it would sit poorly with him. However, she knew what her boyfriend was like when challenged: stubborn, enthusiastic, firm, and determined. There had been countless times when the two of them had competed or made bets over simple things in exchange for something silly. Neither of them backed down from a challenge, but maybe this was going too far. Anyway, her words had already reached Jude's ears, and it was clear she had caught his attention; his posture changed, and he appeared taken by surprise.

At first he laughed, but then seeing that she wasn´t, his smirk faltered. "A hat-trick? Are you joking? I´ve got more than enough goals to deserve touching you."

She smiled, and decided to continue with her idea. "No. I´m actually dead serious." she said changing turning on their TV as if nothing.

Jude leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "You know I could make you change your mind right now, don´t you?"

Her resolve didn´t waver. She pulled away just enough to lock eyes with him, a teasing smile on her round lips. "Try me. But I´m not budging."

He narrowed his eyes, frustration growing in him, still half-expecting her to crack a smile and let that ridiculous thing go. "So are you joking or not?"

She raised an eyebrow and started walking towards their bedroom. "You´ll see."

Jude sat there for a moment, stunned. He was used to her playing games like this, however, they weren´t about something that serious, but the idea... it stuck in his head. As the night wore on, he made a few more attempts to touch her, playfully teasing, expecting her to give in. But each time, she stood her ground, deflecting him with the same challenge: not until you score a hat-trick.

By the next morning, his frustration was palpable. He tried one last time before training, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pressing himself to her back, and his lips to her neck. "You sure about this, babe?"

She turned in his arms, still kind of sleepy, a knowing smile on her face. "Go score some goals, Jude."

Jude let out a slow breath, his jaw tightening. He loved her playful side, but this was a new level of torment. She was using his natural competitiveness against him. What´s more, the game was seven days from today.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low. “You want a hat-trick? I’ll give you a bloody hat-trick.”

She just smiled against the pillow.

Sadly, she wasn´t able to attend the match that day. Work had gotten in the way, so she was stuck at home watching it on their TV. She had written to him, of course, as she always did when she couldn’t go to the Bernabéu to see the match, wishing him good luck with a couple of white heart emojis and a four-leaf clover. Then, taking advantage of the moment, she had half-joked about not being able to see his "attempt" at the hat-trick in person, but part of her wondered if her challenge would actually work. Not going to lie, she was kind of nervous. He could see him vibrating through the screen with tension every time the camera focused on him.

However, she probably was the most anxious since Jude was animatedly talking to his teammates, as he always did before a game. He wasn’t nervous at all, on the contrary, the memory of her challenge, the way she had teased him all week, stirred something deep inside him. It was no longer just a game; it became something more personal the moment he saw his girlfriend's messages. He hadn’t been bothered at all; on the contrary, he had put his phone away after glancing at the screen and smiling mockingly—surely the same smile she had worn when sending the message.

When the game started, it was clear something had changed. Jude was moving with an intensity that hadn´t been there in the past few matches. His touches were sharp, his passes precise, and he was pressing harder than ever. The commentators noticed it immediately and the crowd was roaring.

Jude left his girlfriend glued to the screen, watching in awe as he ran through the field. It didn´t take long before he found the back of the net, a clean strike from just outside the box that made her jump up from the couch.

But he wasn´t done.

By halftime, he had already scored two goals.

Jude´s third goal was pure instinct—a deft finish after weaving past two defenders and slotting the ball into the bottom corner. Hat-trick. The Bernabéu erupted, but Jude´s attention went to the nearest camera, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He couldn´t hold back his smirk, his chest heaving from the effort of the match, as he pointed directly at the lens and mouthed: "It´s your time to pay, gorgeous!"

She burst out laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. He had done it. Her heart filled with pride and joy and she could not stop smiling.

Jude got home later that night, his energy still buzzing from the game, dropped his bag by the entrance and called out, "Babe?"

From the living room, he heard her voice, casual but with a teasing edge. "Hey Jude. Just finishing some work." That was an absolute lie, she had been ogling some clothes in a shopping web minutes before she heard the keys.

Jude smirked, knowing better. His footsteps echoed as he approached her, spotting her on the couch with her laptop open, her legs folded. She glanced up with a small smile, playing it cool.

"So... how was the match?" she asked innocently, her eyes flickering mischievously before she returned her gaze to her screen. “I got caught up with this and I couldn’t watch it.”

He chuckled, looking down at her. Of course she had been watching the game. She always did it. Always. “You know damn well how it went. Haven't you been teasing me enough this week?” His voice was low, his words dripping with confidence.

She shrugged, her fingers tapping the keys, but he could see the slight twitch of her lips, the subtle way her body tensed as he loomed over her. “What? Did you manage to finally score?” she asked playfully.

Jude moved around the couch, towering over her now, his hand gently closing her laptop. She looked up at him, her pulse quickening. There was a glint in his eyes that made her stomach flutter.

“I—,” she tried to say.

But tired of her never ending teases, Jude closed the distance, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was electric, igniting a fire that had been building all week. He slid his hands to her waist, letting himself finally feel her and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss as their mouths moved in perfect harmony.

She responded eagerly, god how much she had missed his hands around her body. She let her fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him nearer. As their passion escalated, he lifted her off the chair, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the nearest wall, their bodies melting together.

“I think we should celebrate properly” Jude murmured, his lips trailing along her neck, igniting every nerve ending in her body.

She moaned nodding and with a triumphant grin, Jude captured her lips once more. “You know,” he said catching his breath. “I bet I can make you cum three times.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

Steal my girl - Lewis

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Steal my girl - 1d - @literallegendicon and few couple of anons (mixed and matched the requests and added a nod to the MET)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff (Lewis being a simp)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: this one had to come today (still buzzing) and the choice of the maison for y/n was self indulgent

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

“Front row at a Schiaparelli show? You’re sure you didn’t have any hidden motives there, Mr. MET co-chair?” Y/n teased, a playful edge to her voice as she leaned into Lewis’s side, the TV casting soft light across the dimly lit hotel room.

Lewis rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her comment, swirling his fork through the pasta. “Gotta keep an eye on the industry.”

The sound of the city buzzed faintly outside the window of her Paris hotel room, muted by the heavy drapes. The nighttime skyline, with its golden-lit landmarks and softly glowing streets, seemed almost magical, but it paled in comparison to the quiet comfort of being wrapped in the warmth of Lewis’s arms, the two of them sharing a late-night dinner in bed.

Y/n curled deeper into him, resting against the pillows propped behind them, her head leaning into his chest as she twirled another forkful of pasta.

The TV was on in the background, replaying clips from the fashion show that had taken place just a few hours earlier. She watched with a contented sigh as a few of designs floated down the runway on screen.

She glanced over at Lewis, who had been silently watching her every move with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He’d shown up to the show looking like he’d stepped out of an editorial spread himself, and yet, here they were, making a mess of room service pasta in the most unglamorous way possible.

She nudged him lightly with her elbow. “You looked good on that interview earlier” she teased, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “All serious and mysterious. Though I think you almost said too much.”

Lewis chuckled, his hand coming up to trace lazy circles along her arm. “Yeah? I thought I kept it vague enough.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, turning slightly to look up at him. “If vague means grinning like an idiot whenever my name was brought up.”

“Can’t help it if I’m proud,” he shot back, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. She felt his smile against her skin, warm and unguarded. “Besides, they kept asking questions about the show, about you. Hard not to smile.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide her own smile. “What was it they asked again? ‘What brings you to Paris for fashion week?’”

“Yeah, that one,” he mused, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I said something about being interested in new designers, but honestly, I think they saw right through me.”

Y/n let out a soft laugh, giving him a side-eye as she twirled a strand of spaghetti onto her fork. “Right. Because clearly, you had to scout what Schiaparelli’s doing from the front row, huh?”

“Of course” Lewis replied with a smirk, but there was a warm fondness in his gaze as he looked at her. “And I’ve got to say, they’ve actually got some serious talent over there. Especially that one designer I kept hearing about... what was her name again?”

“Oh, really?” She arched an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “I think I’ve heard of her too. The one everyone thought would ruin her very first fashion show with Daniel?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, nudging her playfully with his shoulder.

She let out a chuckle, the sound mingling with the low hum of the TV. “You don’t have to be such a fanboy, you know. It’s just a show.”

Lewis shook his head, his expression softening as he looked down at her. “Nah, it’s not just a show. It’s you. And seeing you up there, with everyone in awe of what you created... that’s something worth being a fanboy for.”

Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, but she brushed it off with a smirk, determined not to let him see how much his words affected her.

It made her heart stutter and her breath hitched, a flutter in her chest she couldn’t quite control whenever he got like this, when he reminded her that beneath all the teasing and laughter, there was something solid and real between them.

She cleared her throat, breaking eye contact before he could read through her. “Well, thank you, I guess” she said lightly, turning her attention back to her plate “But I’m pretty sure half the people there were wondering why Lewis Hamilton was so invested in this particular couture show.”

He chuckled, leaning his head back against the headboard, his hand finding hers over the duvet “Well, let them wonder. It’s all part of the fun.”

She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she shifted to sit cross-legged beside him. “You know, they’re already speculating, right? There’s been so much buzz since those photos of us in London hit social media. They honestly believe there’s going to be some secret Schiaparelli-Dior collab.”

Lewis glanced over at her, amusement glimmering in his eyes. “Is that so? I think that’d be pretty cool.”

She gave him a look, crossing her arms over her chest. “These answers and your subtlety haven’t really helped, Lewis.”

He hummed in response, but there was a playful edge to it. “You think I’d do that? Out us to the world like that?”

Y/n shot him a sidelong glance, her lips quirking into a grin. “Oh, I know you would. You’ve got that look sometimes, like you want to just scream it from the rooftops.”

Lewis’s hand stilled on her arm, and he tilted his head slightly, considering her words. “Would it be the worst thing if I did?” he asked, his tone light but curious. “If people knew?”

She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the seriousness behind the question.

Her smile softened as she thought about it, about all the times they’d snuck around to avoid the cameras, the late nights when he’d show up at her place just to spend a few hours together before flying out again.

It wasn’t that she was ashamed, or that he was—it was just easier this way. Simpler.

“Maybe not the worst,” she admitted after a moment, running her fingers along the edge of her plate. “But you know how it is. The moment people find out, it changes everything. Suddenly, it’s not just about us anymore.”

She hesitated, tracing patterns on the edge of the blanket draped across their legs. “I like this. Us. Without all the outside stuff.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yeah, I get that. But... watching all those people admire you, hearing them talk about how talented you are, how much they love what you’re doing...”

He trailed off, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Part of me wanted them to know. That the amazing woman they were all raving about, she’s mine.”

Y/n felt her breath catch at the quiet possessiveness in his voice, the way he said it without any hint of arrogance—just a simple, unshakable certainty.

And she realized then that, for all the effort they’d put into keeping their relationship under wraps, Lewis didn’t see it as a burden. To him, it was just another way of showing how much he cared.

She set her plate aside, shifting so she could face him fully, her legs tucked beneath her. “You know” she said, her voice softer now “they’ll keep speculating no matter what. It’s not like we’ve been super subtle.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the headboard, stealing a forkful of her pasta. “True. But I like to think I’ve been pretty sneaky.”

“Sneaky?” she echoed, arching an eyebrow.

Lewis’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I meant it. Let them ask. I’ve got my answers ready.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through her at his words. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against hers, the touch brief but lingering. “Too late” he murmured against her mouth, making her shiver.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, studying the familiar lines of his face, the way his dark eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her like that. And suddenly, the thought of people knowing, of sharing this part of their lives with the world, didn’t seem so daunting after all.

“One day” she said quietly, almost to herself. “One day we won’t have to hide anymore.”

Lewis’s expression softened, and he pressed another kiss to her forehead, his breath warm against her skin. “Whenever you’re ready, babe. No rush.”

She smiled at that, the sincerity in his voice making her chest ache in the best way. “Thank you” she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothe her.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the TV playing softly in the background as they finished their pasta, the city outside still alive with the energy of Paris at night.

And for a moment, everything felt simple—just the two of them, tangled up in each other, away from the prying eyes and the constant buzz of speculation.

But as she glanced up at the TV screen and saw the flashes of cameras, the images of her work, and Lewis seated in the audience, she couldn’t help but feel a quiet thrill at the thought of sharing this part of their lives.

Of letting the world see just how much he meant to her, even if it meant breaking down the careful walls they’d built.

Maybe one day, she thought again, her fingers intertwining with his.  

Maybe they wouldn’t have to keep pretending they were just friends or business partners or anything other than what they were—two people who had found something rare and precious in each other, even if it wasn’t always perfect.

Lewis turned his head slightly, catching her eye with a small smile. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

She shook her head, her smile widening as she leaned up to kiss him again, this time longer, deeper. “Just thinking... how lucky I am.”

His laughter rumbled softly against her lips, his arms wrapping tighter around her. “Yeah? Well, if anyone’s the lucky one here, it’s me.”

______________________________________________________________

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[sapphicjackal]

Baby Dimension au

inspired by this

Baby dimension au

One of the many things that had always bothered Shen Yuan about Proud Immortal Demon Way was the way that Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky treated Luo Binghe’s children. 

By the time that Luo Binghe was into his centuries long reign and the story completed, Luo Binghe had dozens of children. Some were named, and others were only known by the fact that their mother had to go into seclusion in the background of a harem drama. The exact number of his kids were unknown, and Luo Binghe showed little to no interest in them beyond their continued survival.

To ensure his children’s survival, Luo Binghe used Xin Mo to create a pocket dimension of sorts. Only his most trusted servants would be selected with the task of living permanently in these hidden realms to raise his children. Each child had their own separate pocket realm and caretaker, with children born of the same mother being grouped together.

Some of the more filial mothers spent time with their children, and Shen Yuan quietly suspects that a number of the ditched Harem members chose to live with their children instead of in the palace full of snakes. 

The reason the fan dubbed ‘baby dimension’ came into existence was because of Luo Binghe’s first children. 

Luo Binghe’s foray into fatherhood began with his first two children, Luo Meiying and Luo Fang. 

When Luo Binghe lived on Qing Jing Peak, he had made a promise with Ning Yingying that when he married her, they would have a beautiful child together. Once the three realms had been unified, revenge had been taken, and the harem had been settled; Airplane introduced that retconned promise. Ning Yingying asked if they could finally have a baby together and Luo Binghe agreed.

Of course, this sent Sha Hualing into a jealous fit. She acted out and terrorized the other harem members until Luo Binghe agreed to give her a child as well. To prevent Sha Hualing from escalating and trying to do anything to make Ning Yingying miscarry, Luo Binghe agreed to impregnate her as well.

Naturally this led to a threesome sex maraton between Ning Yingying, Sha Hualing, and Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe gathered a fertility lotus plant for the two of them, and they locked themselves away in Luo Binghe’s chambers for 3 days. The two girls spent the whole time fighting each other and vying for Luo Binghe’s attention as well as more turne with the Heavenly Pillar. 

It ended with both of the wives undeniably pregnant.

Fast Forward some harem antics where some wives tried to sabotage the pregnancies, and a lot of kinky pregnancy related sex, the two babies were born. Ning Yingying’s daughter, Luo Meiying, and Sha Hualing’s son, Luo Fang. Luo Binghe was there for the births of his children and he seemed genuinely pleased about it. Sha Hualing and Ning Yingying were obviously the most favored wives for a time, as Luo Binghe exclusively dual cultivated with either of them and spent a lot of time with his children.

Then the readers got bored of this domestic arc.

Luo Binghe’s children were faced by constant threats, targeted by the harem and his enemies alike. The dangers were so numerous that Sha Hualing herself wanted to go into seclusion with her child, just so that her son would survive. Of course, she was more motivated by the fact she didn’t want to lose the leverage that the child gave her after all of the effort she spent bringing it into the world, but still. It was a problem.

The solution?

Creating a series of Hidden Realms using Xin Mo. 

Since the space was only accessible through Xin Mo, nobody could threaten the safety of his children any longer. He allowed his wives to choose their most loyal servant to entrust the task of raising their children. After setting them up with all they would need, and telling the mothers they could ask any time for visits, he left the children to be raised in the Hidden Realms, with the expectation they could leave once they reach adulthood.

After that, his children were promptly forgotten and only mentioned in passing.

Ning Yingying ended up having another child later on, and that one joined his older sister in the Baby Dimension after being weaned. 

From there, pregnancies and children were only mentioned in passing. There were no updates as to what goes on in the Baby Dimensions, and Luo Binghe’s children became yet another forgotten plot line. 

Any children he had were forgotten in favor of an ever expanding harem of women who were wedded, bedded, and forgotten.

The whole thing bothered Shen Yuan immensely, being a common topic that he brought up in his vicious reviews of each chapter. Yes, Luo Binghe was a blackened stallion protagonist, but it didn’t make sense for his character to simply have a bunch of children that he forgot existed in favor of getting his dick wet. Luo Binghe seemed to genuinely love his children during the time before he sent them away, and it was the closest thing to happiness that he displayed since the beginning of the story with his adoptive mother.

None of the other fans cared about it, so Luo Binghe’s unknown number of children were thoroughly forgotten. Even the end of the story didn’t address the children whatsoever! Not even a mention of Luo Binghe having an heir, let alone multiple.

Shen Yuan had never forgotten about it, but it did get tucked away in some far off corner of his mind after he transmigrated. 

Now, he lived as Shen Qingqiu, and he was happily married to his own version of Luo Binghe.

The reason all of his prior frustrations came racing back to him is because his husband asked if they could have children. The two of them had been married for 15 years now, and a lot of the problems from earlier in their relationship had been worked on. Luo Binghe was no longer as intensely jealous because of his abandonment issues to the point that having children would be upsetting to him.

They were in a good place to start discussing things. 

Shen Qingqiu had stepped down as Peak Lord with the rest of the Qing generation in favor of their successors, and instead moved full time to the Demon Realm. He had long since revealed his true identity as a transmigrator to his Husband, so Shen Yuan adopted his old name once he left the Human Realm.

Their rule was secure, they had been married for years, and their relationship was stable. It seemed like the perfect time to add to the family.

There did exist flowers and relics that could allow men to get pregnant, however, once Luo Binghe brought up the topic, Shen Yuan’s mind instantly went to the abandoned children of Luo Bingge.

Shen Yuan knew that his Binghe would be a wonderful father, one that would never abandon his children. Shen Yuan never really got over the fact that all those children had been made and discarded, out of sight and out of mind.

So, he made a deal with Binghe.

They would have one biological child together, but after that, any additional children would be ones that they obtained from Binghe’s counterpart. Binghe initially protested, wanting nothing to do with that imposter, but Shen Yuan laid out the way all of those children had been abandoned and how it had bothered him for years.

It took some arguing and tears, but eventually an agreement was made.

Luo Binghe bore pregnancy with grace and sneakily used his blood parasites to ensure that egg split, resulting in twins. Luo Binghe was ecstatic with pregnancy, having fought to be the one that carries the child. Shen Yuan thought that as the Emperor, Luo Binghe should be the one to get him pregnant, but Luo Binghe said he’d only agree to snatching the imposter’s children if he gets to give birth to Shizun’s babies.

Shen Yuan gave in to prevent having a Qi deviation over the sheer nonsense that Luo Binghe spewed.

Shen Mingyu and Shen Yongrui were fraternal twins, a girl and boy. They both took after Shen Yuan more in looks, but shared Luo Binghe’s curly hair, something that Shen Yuan was extremely pleased with. The two were doted on and spoiled endlessly, beloved by their parents and people, who were happy to have an actual heir at last.

When the children were 4, Luo Binghe started to get restless, asking for more. 

Thus began their newfound hobby of breaking into Baby Dimensions and kidnapping children.

Well, to be more exact.

Thus began a series of excursions where they traveled to various baby dimensions to meet with the children there and get to know them. When they offered the opportunity to leave and come with them to their own world, each and every child jumped at the chance to leave, even knowing ahead of time that Luo Binghe wasn’t the father that sired them.

They didn’t do it too often. Not wanting to do the same thing as the original and forget about their children and spending time with them because they valued quantity. They made sure that each and every one of their children were loved, regardless of if they were created by them specifically.

Each new addition to their family brought joy to their lives. Shen Yuan truly couldn’t understand how Luo Bingge didn’t adore each of these wonderful beings that he helped create. Shen Yuan loved all of his children, and they were each a blessing.

Maybe Shen Yuan got a little ambitious, because he started to want the two that started it all. Luo Meiying and Luo Fang, the ones that almost could have had a loving father if only the readers hadn’t gotten bored of domesticity. Shen Yuan wanted them to have better. He had avoided taking them thus far because they were the children of the main and favored wives, but they had taken close to a dozen children without notice over the years.

Just like the rest of their siblings, Luo Meiying and Luo Fang agreed to join them. 

However, this time they caught the attention of Luo Bingge. Turns out, Luo Bingge had been noticing his children dwindling, so he set extra protections around all of his remaining children so that he could catch the culprit and save his missing children, if they were still alive.

Luo Bingge came to demand his children back, but his children all claimed that they were Shen Yuan and Luo Bingmei’s children.

Bingge doesn’t actually have THAT many kids at this point in the timeline

SY was grossly overestimating how many kids LBG had in general

atm Bingge only had like 18 kids and Bingqiu stole 10 of them

Bingge does actually check on his kids when he can get away from his harem (which isn’t often)

this is yet another thing that the fake has stolen from him

even his own flesh and blood prefer an imposter over their own father

it really fucks Bingge up

plus side is that he figures out that Nice Shizun is actually named Shen Yuan

then he finds his own SY

And he makes sure that the rest of his kids won’t get stolen by abolishing the baby dimensions and bringing the kids out

SY becomes their teacher

Bingge believes in adopted parent relationships so he doesn’t try to take his kids back, but he does fall into a weird shared custody agreement with Bingqiu

Bingge makes harming his children punishable by death, and his wives are NOT exempt from this. Little Palace Mistress finds this out the hard way when she tries to eliminate one of Bingge’s daughters and gets publicly executed.

Bingge overhauls the harem in general, because now he has got his priorities in order. Which are railing his kid’s teacher, and also taking care of his kids because he doesn’t want them to get taken from him and lose out on them.

Bingge stops expanding his harem and even downsizes it, plus he works out something other than dual cultivation to control Xin Mo because having sex is cutting into his time braiding his children’s hair. And also trying to sleep with their teacher.

Bingge finds being a dad a lot more fulfilling than being a harem master and emperor of the united realms, and also fucking his children’s teacher. That also fills him better.

[gingiesworld]

Ghost

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5.3k+

AN: Hey guys, this fic is going to be a small series.

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Ghost was always that one assassin that would always just elude the Avengers, everytime they would think they had Ghost within their grasp, Ghost would just disappear, leaving behind a string of bloody corpses, but no traces that would help the Avengers figure who they were up against.

“This is the fourth one in two weeks.” Nat observed as she knelt over the bloody corpse of a Senator. “And they all work for the government in some way.” Steve walked around the room, his eyes searching for anything that could aid in capturing the assassin.

“They’re good.” Clint stated as he looked at Nat. “They’re better than you ever were, Romanoff.”

“I don’t care if they’re good at covering their tracks.” Steve told them firmly. “This is the fourth government official in a fortnight, and we don’t even know why they are targeting these people.”

“Do we know if they are all connected in some way?” Nat questioned as she rose to her feet.

“Tony is doing a thorough background search on each of them, delving into every aspect of their lives that they didn’t want anyone to know.” Steve told her. “There isn’t anything different in the killings, they were all murdered in the exact same way.”

“Maybe we could see if we can find some sort of calling card, you know like most serial killers leave behind.” Clint questioned as Nat shook her head no.

“They have never left a single thing behind, no fingerprints, footprints or any form of DNA that would help us even find them.” She told him, her hands resting on her hips as she looked around the room carefully. “That is why they are known as Ghost, they kill quietly but leave nothing behind but a message.”

“But what is the message?” Steve pondered as he looked at the only entrance to the room. “There is no sign of forced entry, so either they picked the lock or the people knew who they were.”

“Cameras?” Clint questioned as Nat shook her head no.

“All of them are disabled so we have no footage of them entering or leaving the building.” She told him.

“Then how are we supposed to find this person if there are no breadcrumbs to follow?” Clint questioned.

“I don’t know, but we have to head back, Fury will be waiting for a briefing on this.” Steve told them both, leading them out of the building. The journey back to the compound was silent, all three of them racking their brains for anything they may have missed, or anyone who could be behind these assassinations. “I’ll go and brief Fury, Nat can you see where Tony is on his background checks?” Nat nodded before she headed down towards the lab, finding Tony sipping coffee as ACDC blasted through the room as he looked at the screen before him.

“Have you found any connections?” She asked him as she stood behind him.

“So far?” He questioned as she nodded. “Not much, some of them have had some DUI’s, our very own Senator Green even has a restraining order up against him.”

“Who ordered the restraining order?” Nat questioned as she combed through the information laid out on the screen.

“His ex wife.” He answered her. “But she doesn’t exactly have the funds to pay for a hit out on him, let alone she has no motive against the others.”

“So we are still at nothing.” Nat groaned as Tony grinned.

“Not exactly, with the other three, they found a piece of paper with some sort of quote.” He told her, getting the picture of the calling card up. “Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.”

“What does that even mean?” She questioned as Tony shrugged.

“I don’t know exactly, but it's the same quote each time.” He told her. “It’s kind of like whoever this Ghost is, they are trying to send a message, but I haven’t quite figured that out just yet.”

“Was there any prints or anything on the card?” She asked him, sighing when he shook his head no.

“There’s nothing, the card is clean, there isn’t even a way for me to track the manufacturer either.” He told her.

“Okay, just keep looking for anything else.” She told him before she headed towards the door.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do.” He spoke sarcastically as he continued to comb through the information he had. Nat soon made her way into the kitchen, finding both Wanda and Yelena arguing over food.

“Natasha, tell her that macaroni and cheese is better than paprikash.” Yelena bombarded her as soon as she saw her older sister.

“Mac and Cheese isn’t exactly the healthiest option.” Wanda told her.

“No, but it’s the tastier option.” Yelena told her.

“How would you know, you smother it in hot sauce every time. You can’t even smell the cheese or anything else.” Wanda told her as she continued to prepare dinner for the team.

“You two are children.” Nat chuckled as she grabbed herself a bottle of water.

“Is there any news on this Ghost?” Yelena asked as she reached into the cupboard for a box of mac and cheese.

“Nothing, other than some quote they keep leaving behind.” She told them both. “Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.”

“Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.” A voice sounded beside Wanda, making her jump slightly as she watched her brother get tested.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” She questioned as they just smirked at her.

“Not everything is as it seems here.” They told her before walking away.

“Are you okay, Wanda?” Nat questioned, a look of concern in her eyes as Wanda dropped the pot, its contents spilling out onto the floor.

“Yeah.” She whispered as she moved to clean up her mess, their blue irises and voice surrounding her every thought. “It’s just I’ve heard someone say that to me before.”

“Who?” Nat questioned her, her full attention on Wanda.

“Y/N.” She told them. “They used to be an agent working for Hydra at the Sokovia facility, but this can’t be them, they died.”

“How do you know they died?” Yelena asked her, Wanda took in a shaky breath.

“They died in my arms.” Wanda told her. “I watched as they bled out, I watched as life left their eyes.”

“Who were they to you?” Nat questioned as Wanda wiped her eyes.

“They were a friend, they protected me.” She told them. “Being a female volunteer within Hydra, most of their agents being men with their own agendas and sick minds, they made sure I was never hurt by any of them.”

“Do you know their surname?” Nat questioned.

“Y/L/N.” Wanda answered her.

“Thank you Wanda.” Nat gave her a soft smile before she headed back towards Tony’s lab hastily. “Can you do a background search on Y/N Y/L/N?” She asked him.

“Of course, but why?” He questioned as he got to work, Nat had explained everything she had just learned from Wanda. “So do you think this Ghost could be this Hydra Agent?”

“I’m not sure, but something seems off about this whole thing.” Nat told him.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, they were Strucker’s right hand.” He read out, Nat’s eyes scanning their picture as she read over their details. “Deceased.”

“Does it say how they died?” She questioned as Tony continued his search.

“They were shot multiple times.” He told her. “They were an accessory, aiding the twins escape before we detained Strucker.”

“Wanda and Pietro volunteered thinking Hydra were helping Sokovia.” Nat mumbled as she paced the lab, muttering the phrase they had recently learned. “So, in a way they were even warning Wanda about Hydra in their own cryptic way. They knew exactly what Hydra’s agenda was, they knew the true intention of global domination.” She paused for a moment before turning to face Tony. “Do you think that this may be a warning?” She questioned.

“A warning for what?” He asked her.

“Hydra still exists, they’re trying to regain their power.” She stated as Tony shook his head no.

“We destroyed Hydra, we took down all of their remaining bases after Sokovia.” He told her. “It’s impossible.”

“Just think about it.” She urged him. “Hydra had their claws within SHIELD, Pierce, Rumlow and other double agents. We don’t exactly know if they have their claws deep within the American government.”

“So you think these victims are all Hydra?” He questioned with a light chuckle, soon stopping when he noticed Natasha’s serious expression. “They’re all Hydra.” He whispered, soon turning to his screen, typing away. “Those bastards.” He pulled up some old press photos of each of the victims, sighted with Pierce himself. “Every single one of the victims are there.”

“Do you think you can maybe identify any other possible targets?” She questioned. “Maybe if we can find a pattern, we may be able to narrow down the next target and intercept Ghost.”

“I’ll try.” He told her, starting a facial recognition search on the other people in the picture.

“Maybe put out a search for anyone who fits Y/N’s description.” She told him.

“But they’re dead.” He told her, rubbing his eyebrow.

“I am finding that hard to believe right now.” She told him honestly. “How many times have all of us here been on death's door, just look at the tech we also have in the medical field, it’s all high tech, making it a possibility that maybe someone who found Y/N’s body had saved them.” She soon left to find Steve, notifying him of the new information they have recently found. “Tony’s going to call us as soon as he finds out who the next target could be.”

“Then we will need to have the whole team ready for this.” Steve stated as the two walked towards the briefing room. “If we have a chance at catching this Ghost, we are going to need all of our strengths to even try and take them down.”

“Why do you always stay near me?” Wanda questioned as she sat in her cell.

“Believe it or not, I want to keep you safe.” They told her honestly. “I know what most of these agents are capable of, what they think of and I don’t want any of them to do something untoward under my watch.” They told her honestly.

“If you’re not like the others, why do you work here?” She questioned, her eyes searching theirs.

“Unfortunately, I was taken when I was younger.” They told her. “I used to have a family, back home in England, but I watched as they were all murdered before I was taken. I was trained by one of the most notorious Agencies in Europe. It’s known for training mostly young women into becoming assassins, but Hydra made a deal with the Red Room. They wanted the ultimate agent, able to do anything that was asked of them.”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered sadly as Y/N shook their head with a small smile.

“It’s okay, I made my peace that my life wasn’t my own a long time ago.” They told her softly. “But, we can try and get you and your brother your lives back.”

“How?” She questioned as they pressed their finger to their lips, silencing her.

“In time, I will help you both.” They whispered. “I just need to devise a perfect plan to get you both out of here.” With that they left the cells, leaving Wanda alone and in darkness.

“So, do we have anything more?” Steve questioned as he entered Tony’s lab with Natasha.

“We do.” He told them both. “They seem to be going in alphabetic order.”

“So who is the next victim?” Nat asked as Tony pulled up a picture on the screen.

“Mr Howard Jameson.” Tony answered the two of them.

“Okay, we’re going to need to have a 24 hour detail around him.” Steve told them both.

“But what if this whole thing about Hydra is true?” Tony questioned. “We would be going against everything we stand for.”

“I know, but we need to catch this Ghost, get them to tell us everything they know.” Steve told them.

“What makes you think they would tell us everything?” Nat questioned as Steve smiled. “Wanda, you want her to reach into their mind.”

“It’s what we need, then maybe we can finish this whole thing with Hydra ourselves.” Steve told them both. “We need to get everyone briefed and out ready, we are going to catch this bastard.”

“Language!” Tony gasped, making Nat chuckle as Steve shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“Do you think we have a chance at catching them before they kill their next victim?” Yelena questioned as everyone made their way to their assigned locations.

“I’m not sure, with everything we have learned about them so far, they seem to be just as easy as catching mist.” Natasha told her, the two watching Jameson from their seats across from him in the hotel bar he was staying at. “But all we can do is try, but we have Wanda and with her powers it is a possibility that we can actually pull this off.”

“But are we sure we want to?” Yelena asked her, receiving a firm look from her sister. “If all of these guys are Hydra, why do we want to help protect them from someone who clearly knows everything about them.”

“Either way, how they are going about it is wrong.” Nat told her. “The way they are making them suffer before killing them is inhumane.”

“And we haven’t done much worse.” Yelena spoke sarcastically.

“You know exactly what I mean Lena.” Nat told her sternly. “There are proper channels to go through, you don’t just go around killing people, innocent or not.”

“That’s all we ever do.” Lena scoffed before observing her surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Steve asked Wanda quietly, who only nodded her head. “I know of the connection you had with this Y/N.”

“Y/N died.” Wanda told him firmly. “Whoever this person is, isn’t Y/N.” Steve only nodded and dropped the subject, turning his attention to their surroundings. “What exactly are we looking for?” Wanda questioned as she swirled the liquid in her glass.

“Anything out of the ordinary.” Steve answered.

“So, that could also be classed as ourselves.” She smirked as she sipped her drink. “But I don’t think they will be stupid enough to do anything out in the open where there are a lot of eyes on them.”

“We need to figure out what room Jameson is staying in.” Steve muttered as Nat nodded, rising from her seat and heading towards the hotel lobby. A flirtatious smile adorned her face as she approached the concierge.

“Can I help you?” They asked her, returning her smile.

“I need some information.” She told them. “Do you know what room Howard Jameson is staying in? My boss, he’s the head of Jameson’s security detail, has asked for me to check his room, as you know there have already been a string of Government assassinations and we fear that Jameson may be a target and he told me what room he was staying in, but I have already forgotten. So can you help me?”

“Of course.” They smiled as they typed away on their computer, looking at the hotel listings. “But I can assure you that we have a top of the range security system ourselves.”

“I know, it’s just precautions that we like to keep in-house.” She told them.

“Room 38.” They told her.

“Thank you.” She gave them a smile before she headed towards the elevator. “I’m heading up to check the room now.” She spoke through the comms.

“We’re on our way.” Steve told her. “Clint, Yelena, you two stay here and don’t let Jameson leave your sight.” Wanda followed Steve towards the stairs, heading up towards the room as fast as they could. “Natasha, do not enter that room until we are there.”

“Of course.” Nat answered as she stood down the hall from the room, waiting for the others to arrive. As soon as the stairwell door opened, she smirked as she saw Steve enter the hall. “You sure took your time, old man.” She teased before they all made their way down the hall.

“Wanda, if we see them, you’re going to need to use your powers to restrain them.” Steve told her in a hushed tone. “Just long enough for us to slap these power dampening restraints on them.”

“How do you know if they have powers?” Nat questioned as Steve looked at her.

“I don’t, I’m just taking extra precautions.” He told them, gesturing for Wanda to open the door, once the door opened, the room was covered in darkness, the only light was the faint light cast from the moon. Wanda shuddered as she felt a presence she hadn’t felt in so many years, using her powers, surrounding the Ghost and preventing them from moving. Leaving them frozen in their spot, Steve was fast to slap the cuffs on them. “Let’s take them to the compound.” He told them, leading them all outside and heading towards the fire exit.

Wanda watched as Y/N stood at the other end of the hall, their focus remained on Strucker as he gave them their orders. Wanda was always curious as to how Y/N had managed to get their role as Strucker’s right hand, knowing that they must be his most trusted confidant. She smiled slightly as they turned to face her, soon faltering as their face remained emotionless whilst in the presence of Strucker.

“What was that about?” Wanda questioned once Y/N had approached her, they looked over their shoulder before they answered.

“We are going to get you and Pietro out of here tonight.” They told her. “We have word that the Avengers are planning an attack.”

“Stark.” Wanda seethed as Y/N tried to keep her calm.

“We need to get you both out of here, before the attack happens.” They told her quietly. “I have a plan but I am going to need both of you to follow my every instruction.” Wanda nodded as they explained everything to her, using her powers to inform Pietro of their plan.

Ghost remained in cuffs as they paced the cell, aware of the cameras that were watching them. They remained in their mask as Fury entered the cells, accompanied by the others. They stopped their pacing when they noticed they had company, their eyes met Wanda’s, holding her gaze as Fury spoke.

“What the hell are they doing in lock up?!” He questioned them, looking between the team before his gaze went back to Ghost.

“They are a national threat.” Steve answered him. “They have already killed multiple government reps and who knows how many more.”

“I don’t care! They are on strict orders to take down anyone with any power of restoring Hydra to its former glory.” He told them angrily.

“You knew about this?” Nat questioned.

“Of course I do! They are working under my orders.” He told them.

“I don’t understand.” Steve spoke unsurely as Fury asked Tony to unlock the cell, allowing him inside.

“Uncuff them.” He ordered Steve, once they were uncuffed, they removed their mask, causing Wanda’s world to fall apart in one moment.

“Come on.” Y/N urged the twins, leading them through the base, taking out any agents who had crossed their path. “The old sewer access is right here.” They opened the door for the two of them, the sound of the alarm and gunfire filling their ears. They urged the two of them to go through the tunnel first before following behind them.

“This way!” An agent’s voice could be heard, their footsteps following the three of them closely. “They’re escaping!”

“Hurry up.” Y/N urged the two of them. “There should be a manhole not too far ahead.” They told them both. Once they had seen the ladders leading up, Pietro was the first to climb followed by Wanda, just as the agents were coming up behind them. Y/N had raised their gun, firing at the agents before following the twins.

“Y/N!” Wanda yelled as she looked behind her, seeing as Y/N struggled to keep running.

“Keep moving!” They yelled, gesturing for her to keep moving, Wanda ignored them and ran back towards them, putting her arm around them to help them run with her.

“You’re hurt.” She told them as they stumbled to the ground.

“I’ll be fine.” They told her, Wanda’s eyes found multiple bullet wounds as she tried to stop the bleeding. “You both need to keep moving.” They coughed as Wanda shook her head.

“I’m staying.” She told them as Pietro approached the two of them, she looked up at her twin, sadness in her eyes. “We need to get them help.”

“Wanda.” Y/N tried as they winced, trying to get her attention. “You both need to leave.”

“No.” Wanda shook her head.

“I’m sorry.” They coughed as Wanda gave them a sad smile as she shook her head.

“It’s okay, we’re going to get you help.” Wanda tried as Pietro knelt beside her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda.” He tried as Wanda shook her head. “They're losing too much blood.”

“THEN HELP ME!” She yelled at him. “Please.” She cried as she looked at her brother. “I can’t lose anyone else, please.”

“It’s okay.” Y/N whispered, their breathing labored. “It will be okay.”

“I can’t.” Wanda shook her head as Y/N turned to Pietro.

“Keep her safe.” They told him.

“Always.” He answered before Y/N turned to Wanda.

“Thank you.” They whispered before they closed their eyes, their breathing soon coming to a halt as Wanda shook her head.

“No.” She whispered, tears streaming as she held them. “No, you can’t leave me.”

“Come on, we have to go Wanda.” Pietro told her, pulling her up to her feet and taking her in his arms.

“They’re supposed to be dead.” Steve spoke up, recognising Y/N from the picture Tony had pulled up.

“They were almost.” He told them. “How do you think you had the information and location of that Hydra base in Sokovia? Y/N here was my agent on the inside.”

“So all of that about your parents was a lie?” Wanda questioned, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

“No, that was all true.” They answered her. “I uh I deflected once I met you and your brother, I hated how they treated the both of you. I knew I needed help to protect you both.”

“Pietro died.” Wanda told them, watching as they looked at their hands as her tears started to fall. “I had lost the only two people I had ever loved, who had ever looked out for me and.” She took a deep breath before she stepped closer to them. “You died in my arms! You fucking died!” She yelled as she started to hit at their chest, her tears falling. “I WATCHED YOU BLEED OUT IN MY ARMS!! I CRIED FOR YOU!! MOURNED YOU AND YOU ARE STILL ALIVE!!”

“I never meant for this to hurt you.” They told her, regret evident in their voice.

“I can’t do this.” She whispered as she left, heading straight for her room, leaving everyone in the cells. Y/N attempted to follow her but was stopped by Steve.

“We need to know everything you know about these government officials.” He told them firmly, Y/N sighed before following the team to the briefing room. Y/N had gave them all of the names of the Hydra adversaries that remained hidden within the government.

“How do you know all of this?” Nat questioned as she leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. “I just don’t understand how we are supposed to trust you.”

“I used to be Strucker’s right hand.” They answered her honestly. “I was always present at any important meetings with those who he answered to.”

“How did you get to be Strucker’s right hand?” She questioned, her eyes burning into them, watching their every move.

“When I was taken from my family, he was the one who took me under his wing, he also made a deal with Dreykov, to train me to be the best agent for Hydra, without any other DNA enhancements.” They answered. “He wanted someone who he could overpower if they got too out of hand, unlike the Winter Soldier who was considered a flight risk after Captain America resurfaced. I made the best Agent because I had no means of humanity left, they saw to that when they murdered my parents and little brother in front of me.”

“Why did it take you so long to turn against them? You could have easily helped SHIELD sooner.” She pressed on as Y/N shook their head.

“I was scared, it wasn’t just pure loyalty to him or Hydra.” Y/N told her, not showing any emotion. “They wanted to take away what would have been known as a weakness, to them, my family was a weakness and I had no one. I was soon declared dead once the police who investigated my family’s death had no leads as to where I could be. That was until I met the twins, I understood why they volunteered, although it was blindly and Hydra manipulated the two of them into thinking they would help them protect their home. I then remembered just how messed up Strucker and the rest of Hydra was, they would stop at nothing for world domination, making the world within Hitler’s image, not sparing any innocent lives who dared to stand against them. The love and respect the twins had for each other, that they would do anything to protect each other and the innocence of their home, that made me realise just what I needed to do, so I made a deal with Fury. I was to help the twins escape, hand over the coordinates of every known Hydra base, and I was to help SHIELD with the downfall of Hydra.” They kept their eyes on her, shielding any emotion that threatened to show through their eyes as they spoke. “It was Fury who found me, along with Agent Hill and they brought me to the best SHIELD medical specialist they had. They had saved me and I was given my orders to eliminate any possible threat of Hydra rising again.”

“You killed all of those people.” Steve spoke in disdain. “You practically tortured them and we are supposed to just work with you? You were Hydra once yourself, you must have believed in what they stood for once.”

“Your friend over there, he was also Hydra, he was with them longer than I, he has more innocent blood on his hands than I. Romanoff and Belova were Widows, working for the Red Room and executing Dreykov’s orders, given Belova was more an experiment of a cognitive serum, so she also had all of her free will stripped away but Romanoff.” They turned to look at her. “You executed Dreykov’s orders without question, you were in the same shoes as I. You had no family, the only family you knew of was all a ruse for Dreykov to get his hands on some information that Alexei retrieved before Dreykov took both you and your sister. You are no better than I.”

“I am nothing like you.” Natasha spoke, clenching her jaw.

“No? Who was it that had died in that explosion for your deflection to SHIELD?” Y/N questioned. “Dreykov’s daughter, she was no older than 11 years old.”

“She didn’t die.” Natasha defended.

“But you didn’t know that until you took down the Red Room yourself, so for years you lived with that guilt, you have lived with the guilt of all of those lives that were also lost in the crossfire.” They told her. “All of you have just as much innocent blood on your hands as I.”

“Y/L/N.” Fury spoke sternly, Y/N apologised before they retreated. “Y/N here will be joining you, they will help you with any missions we send your way as they also continue to take down Hydra before it is reborn.” He looked between Steve and Natasha. “I want no objections. Mr Stark, Y/N here will need a room set up.” Tony nodded before Fury left the briefing room.

Settling in wasn’t easy for Y/N, the atmosphere was cold and bitter, making them feel unwelcome. They spent most of their time in their room, other than being in the training room during the night. As they returned to their room, they had seen Wanda for the first time in a couple of weeks. She was sitting on their bed, her chin resting on her hand, Y/N knocked on their door to gain her attention.

“You know, it feels odd to knock on my own door.” They teased with a gentle smile, they watched as Wanda fought back a smile as they entered the room, closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry, Wanda.” She shook her head before she spoke.

“I just, I want an explanation.” She told them. “I just, I don’t understand. You died in my arms and now you are standing right here, in front of me, very much alive.”

“I’ll be honest, I thought I was dead too.” They spoke honestly as they sat beside her. “I had lost a substantial amount of blood, that I even had no chance of surviving even if I went to the nearest hospital.”

“You stopped breathing.” She whispered.

“I know.” They looked at their hands as Wanda observed them. “But the human body is a magnificent thing, when it has gone through a lot of pain and trauma, the heart rate slows down, right down, almost as though it would have stopped.” They took a deep breath. “Not too long after you and Pietro had left, Fury had sent in a team to my location, taking me to one of SHIELD’s top facilities. He had the best doctors and surgeons save me, they saved my life and once I had regained consciousness, there wasn’t a moment where you weren’t on my mind. I wanted to find you and your brother, I wanted to make sure that you were safe but I had made a deal with Fury, so I had to follow orders, I was unable to come and find you.” They turned to look in her eyes. “Then I heard the news of Pietro’s death, I defied my orders and came to find you, I saw you, you were healthy and safe but I hated seeing the pain in your eyes, the grief you were drowning in and I knew that if I had come back, you would only hate me for leaving you.”

“I could never hate you.” Wanda whispered as Y/N shook their head. “I lo.. I need to go, I have a mission tomorrow with Natasha.” She told them as she stood up, heading towards their door.

“I really am sorry, Wanda.” They told her quietly. “I never wanted you to feel all of that pain, I only wanted to protect you, I still do feel this need to protect you.”

“I guess some things never change.” She whispered before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Y/N knew in that moment they would do everything they could to keep her safe, to protect her, they knew that in that moment, they were exactly where they needed to be.

[inbabylontheywept]

The Condom Bomber

The crux of the story is Brother Dean. Brother Dean was…is…a hate preacher. Red or blue, everyone agreed on that. His origins and his motivations, those were a little more mysterious. Different groups had their own legends. I had a class with a guy that was part of the campus pro-life movement, and the tale he gave me is the one that I give the most credence to. According to him, Brother Dean had started out as a “normal” pro-life preacher. He’d gone around campus, led parades, given speeches… And then he’d gotten punched in the face.

This led to a lawsuit against the school. Something about failing to provide adequate protection? The main result was that he got something like half a mil. Half a mil is an incredible amount if you’re still working, but he’d tried to use the money to fund a sort of pro-life career, and it had just… trickled down. Ten years later he was running dead low on funds, and had taken to the particularly dumb strategy of trying to get punched in the face again. You know. For economic reasons. It had become kind of a vicious cycle: He’d started off saying some objectionable shit to try and goad someone into taking the punch. The worse the shit he said was, the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, and the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, the less he had to lose by saying really objectionable shit. Throw in two years of living on ramen, and he was so desperate to get punched that he was quoting the Westboro Baptists. If you know, you know. The pro-life group, to their credit, hated him the most out of anyone. They viewed him as the ultimate sellout, someone who was actively making their positions and beliefs look worse by the day, solely for his own enrichment. The other conservative groups held him in the same regard. The rest of the campus hated him for simpler reasons. It would be difficult to find anyone more detested anywhere else on site. Brother Dean’s antithesis was the Trojan Warrior. TW was a normal student by day, but maybe once a month or so he’d don his hoplite armor and roam around, handing out free condoms. Trojan condoms. It was kind of his shtick. Between the costume, and the whole character that he had going on, most people didn’t really recognize his alter ego. I myself am pretty good with faces, so one day I noticed he was behind me in the foodcourt and decided to thank him by paying for his smoothie. Small tangent, but if you’re looking to get good stories, buying lunches for interesting people works like magic. TW decided that he was going to thank me for thanking him by giving me something like 10 feet of condom roll. I was mortified, aggressively single, and on SSRI’s. He was not sure how many of those were permanent. I wasn’t either. He wound up giving me just a handful, and said that if nothing else, they could probably be used as water balloons. I accepted. Who doesn’t like water balloons?

I finished my lunch with the warrior and left, considering targets for the "balloons". I passed by Brother Dean near the main commons and had my lightbulb moment. I spent a few minutes watching him from a distance, trying to find the optimal angle to get him without getting caught on camera (he always had someone filing in the background, it was a necessary thing for his hopeful future lawsuit). The time delay was useful for helping me realize that it really wasn't worth it. The sun had been bearing down so hard that the glue in my shoes had melted, and getting him wet would be a favor that day. 

So, mildly disappointed, I shelved my dream and left. 

A week later the monsoons hit. I left one class and ran to a campus computer commons to try and get some shelter and study between classes. Just before I got through the door, I saw Brother Dean, umbrella in hand, setting up his speaker and mic. He wasn't technically allowed this far into campus (the commons were owned by the city) but he'd gone to where his audience was and security was probably holed up somewhere cozy. I could hardly blame them. 

I made it up to the second floor and started studying when the mic picked up. All glass buildings are not very soundproof. He was loud, and he was annoying, and he was outside a library, under a balcony, and-

And I had condoms. Water balloon condoms. 

And he was under a balcony. 

I put my laptop away, pulled out my condom roll, and went to the bathroom. I wasn’t sure how big a condom could actually stretch, so I just kept filling it until it was about the size of basketball. Maybe a smaller watermelon? And thus armed, I waddled my way out into the halls. I cannot emphasize enough just how unsubtle this was. I was cradling this big, overfilled condom like some sort of phallic ghost baby, and it was so heavy that I sort of had to squat as I went. People saw me. Lots of people saw me. I passed by one room full of computer science students, all learning C++, and three of them waved at me. And I waved back in that my-arms-are-full-but-I’m-excited-to-see-you-too way, where you jut your wrist up a little bit and flap your hand around excitedly. I did, eventually, make it to the balcony. The building’s high ceilings made the second-floor thing kind of a misnomer: I was easily forty feet up. I scooched my way to the edge, and the view I had… it was perfect. Brother Dean was directly underneath, thank God. If he’d been even seven or eight feet out, I’m not sure if I could’ve shotput the condom-bomb far enough to hit him directly. Better yet his cameraman was only a few feet away from him, far too close to catch any action going up 40 feet above. I managed to wrestle the payload onto the balcony, and with a gentle push, I sent it and Dean to destiny. I realized that I’d made a mistake almost as soon as the condom began to fall. You know that sound that bombs make in cartoons, that long drawn out whistle? The condom made that sound. I had a second education in the seriousness of my mistake when the condom hit Dean’s umbrella. It did not pop. Of course it didn’t pop. I had no experience with condoms, I swear to you, I promise, I did not know how much they could stretch. You can fit your whole leg into them. You can fit them over whole park benches. A gallon and a half of water was nothing compared to that. It broke Dean’s umbrella. It hit the top, and it snapped the stem like a twig, and then-

Violence. Unspeakable violence. It clipped Dean’s shoulder and stretched down to his knees before recoiling back to its original shoulder height. It did not bounce. It floated in space, no wasted energy in the collision. One hundred percent of the kinetic energy, all 3300 Joules of it, were discharged into this sad wretch of a man. He did not collapse. There was no time for that. He rotated on his axis. It was as if the hand of God had reached down and grabbed him about his waist, only to twist. In a fraction of a second, his head filled the space where his ass had been and his ass filled the space where his head had been, and then his cheek, carried by the shuriken motion of his body, slammed into the pavement with a noise like Shaq slam dunking a porkchop. Maybe wetter.

He did not move.

I panicked.

I want to make it clear: I did not mean to assault this man. I meant to get him wet and embarrassed. But I also have to confess that this was a beating. Mike Tyson himself can only put about 1600 Joules into one of his punches, and if he hit me I would bounce off five walls before I fell. I would not wish 3300 Joules upon anyone.

I walked into the building and sat myself in the back of the C++ class. The people next to, to my immense and eternal gratitude, did not question why I was wet.

A minute later, Brother Dean stormed into the building with his microphone.

He yelled. He screamed. He hollered. He informed the entire world that he had been assaulted, with a condom, by someone on the second floor. I was ecstatic that he was alive. 

Every person in that class knew who had brought this hell upon them. Every single one of them knew it was me. And if I’d done this to someone else, some Steven Crowder, some Ben Shapiro, someone would’ve thrown me to the wolves. It would have only taken one person in that room of sixty. But Brother Dean was hated by everyone, literally everyone, and so the entire class sat in silence.

Some of that silence was gleeful, and some of it was bored, and some of it, a very small amount, was directly disapproving, but even the disapproving silence carried an understanding. A note of, “Yes, yes, that was very irresponsible, and you should not do that again, but who could blame you? Something needed to happen. Not that something, but…something.”

Security could be given grace to ignore the man when it was raining, and he was just outside the building, but they were not given such grace when he was inside with a microphone. Just a few short minutes later, a golfcart pulled up, and he was summarily marched out. There was maybe a minute of silence after that before the professor announced that his class was not open to visitors.

I left. He’d made his point.

It was a few weeks before I saw Brother Dean again, and his black eye still hadn’t healed all the way when I did. He was, however, still preaching the same old things as always. Percussive maintenance works better on vacuum tubes than human brains. I will say that he definitely made a point to stay away from balconies after that. And the next time it rained, I actually went out to watch him put his speaker and his mic into the back of a wagon and wheel it off the campus.

It appeared that he’d developed some opinions about the kind of weather he was willing to preach hate in.

[kleine-joost]

Joost Dating Headcanons

a/n: who tf am i updating daily?? idk where this motivation has come from lmao

WARNINGS: there's some general smutty headcanons at the end, i'd appreciate no minors interact thanks xxx

SFW HEADCANONS

- Ok so first off, I’m so so so convinced that this man is absolutely the clingiest person EVER. Like anything you’re doing, he’ll happily join you, he asks you to travel with him., Basically everything either of you do will become a two-man job

- The only thing he’s tentative about with your relationship would be the overall publicness of it. The real fans (😎😎😎) have spotted you a couple times in photos and videos in the background of things and kind of just speculated, but mostly you’re unknown.

- But in private and with friends and stuff? Hangs on you all the time, bringing you into conversations he’s in so you can add more details to his stories.

- Also I have this picture in my head, like say you had to work late or you went out with some friends and he didn’t go, when you get home, you find him in bed, duvet up to his chin and just waiting for you to get home so you can tell him everything and you can go to sleep together

- He’s not a huge movie buff, but he’ll watch whatever you want because he just loves seeing you enjoy things, seeing you happy. Even if he’s not the direct cause of it, he likes to just be there for you

- And another thing, I think he’s probably really forgetful. So if you aren’t, I like the idea of leaving little sticky notes around to remind him of things like meetings, or even just to drink water

- So supportive too. He is your biggest cheerleader in everything you do, and always knows how to comfort you if you’re down

- I imagine you also being super supportive of him, like you’re always the first person he shows a new song to, and he genuinely favours your opinion on things and will fight Tantu to change things you think could be changed

- Big flower vibes. He loves buying you flowers, even when there’s no special occasion. Just because he thought they were pretty.

- I also think he would LOVE to do like coordinating outfits and stuff

- Just a stylish couple in general

- And if like your collar isn’t sitting right or something, he’d fixed it straight away

- On a similar note, he loves when your shoelaces become untied because it's his favourite thing to just do whatever he can for you

- He’s tried to cook you dinner a total of about 3 times, all of them resulting in an inedible meal. But it’s the thought that counts

- And when you’re out eating dinner somewhere, he’ll always beg for a bite of your food in exchange for a bite of his, because “your’s just looks so good, liefde”

- I also think he’s one of those boyfriends that’ll just walk up to you and start shadow boxing at you for funsies, complete with fake huffs of effort, until it eventually just evolves into who can hold each others’ arms down for the longest time (spoiler, he wins most of the time cause he just wraps his arms around your shoulders so you can’t move)

- Going back to the travelling thing, I like the idea that if you’re not able to go with him, he always buys you some kind of souvenir like a fridge magnet or like socks or something so you feel like you were there

- And so he feels like you’re with him, he always carries a picture of you with him in his wallet bc cute

NSFW HEADCANONS

- Guess what kind of picture it is teeheehee

- I can’t decide between just a picture of your tits or one that he took while yall were fucking and you didn’t even notice that he had his phone out and was taking a photo of your face all scrunched together in pleasure

- Boy would that have been an interesting day at wherever he got it printed

- ALSO travelling means….you guessed it! Phone and FaceTime sex!!

- Most of the time it doesn’t even start out sexy, you’re just telling each other about your days

- But Joost misses you so much, he can’t help get turned on even by just the sound of your voice

- He tries to be quiet but let’s get real, that man WHINES and WHIMPERS so even when he’s trying to hold it in as he’s palming himself through his jeans, you know what’s up

- “Baby?” He hums in response. “Are you touching yourself?” “...Maybe”

- And it just devolves from there

- Omg and REUNION SEX? Don’t even get me started

- ok do get me started, the SECOND he’s home it is shoes off, clothes off, carrying you to the bedroom

- It would be a perfect mix of tender and filthy

- He missed you and wants to tell you that, but he’s also just so pent up. He needs to get all his energy out

- When he gets horny, there’s nothing he won’t do get at you

- Like when he can’t sleep at night and he’s just really bored, wakes you up and eats you out

- Walks in on you in the shower, he’s getting in

- You guys go shopping and he’s watching you try on clothes, you have to tear him off of you

- You get my point.

- I think he’s an everywhere kind of guy

- Everything, Everywhere, All At Once lol

- Definitely pulled you into a club bathroom stall on more than one occasion

- Oh and one more thing, underwear goblin. After any time you guys fuck, there’s at least a 60% chance he’ll steal your panties as a memento.

[herlondonboy]

so this is love, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this request.

warnings: a tiny bit of angst, happy ending.

wc: 1.7k

a/n: it’s been a long time coming… this was supposed to come out on valentine’s day!!!

you and clarisse la rue couldn't be more different. you're the embodiment of affection, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, while clarisse is as closed off as a fortress, her emotions locked away behind thick stone walls. it's a paradoxical pairing, one that has left your friends and acquaintances scratching their heads in confusion, unable to comprehend why someone as warm and open as you would be drawn to someone as cold and distant as clarisse.

but for you, it's not about logic or reason—it's about the inexplicable pull of attraction, the magnetic force that drew you to clarisse from the moment you met. maybe it was her piercing gaze, her wit, or the way she carried herself with an air of unapproachable confidence. whatever it was, you found yourself falling for her, despite the warnings from those around you.

your relationship with clarisse is a constant push and pull, a delicate dance between your affectionate nature and her guarded demeanor. you shower her with love and attention, hoping to chip away at the walls she's built around herself, while she remains stoic and aloof, seemingly unaffected by your displays of affection.

it's a source of frustration for you, constantly trying to break through to clarisse, to show her that your love is genuine and unwavering. you write her love letters, leave little surprises for her, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, hoping that one day she'll let you in and share her innermost thoughts and feelings with you.

but clarisse remains elusive, her walls seemingly impenetrable. she deflects your advances with a sharp wit and a sly smile, keeping you at arm's length even as you long to hold her close. it's a cycle of longing and rejection, of hope and disappointment, that threatens to tear you apart.

your friends don't understand why you continue to pursue clarisse, unable to see past the surface to the complex, multi-faceted person she truly is. they question her motives, doubt the sincerity of her feelings, and wonder aloud why you bother with someone who seems so indifferent to your affections.

but you know the truth. you see glimpses of vulnerability in clarisse, moments of tenderness that she tries so hard to conceal. you sense the turmoil beneath her cool exterior, the inner struggle between the walls she's built and the desire to let someone in.

and so you persevere, refusing to give up on clarisse despite the obstacles that stand in your way. you believe in the power of love to conquer all, to bridge the divide between two seemingly incompatible souls. and as you continue to walk this tumultuous path with clarisse by your side, you hold onto hope that one day, she'll let down her guard and open her heart to you completely, allowing you to finally understand the enigma that is clarisse la rue.

the atmosphere in the mess hall of camp half-blood was unusually quiet as you and jamie, your best friend, sat alone at one of the tables, the sounds of clattering dishes and distant chatter fading into the background. you stirred your food absently, lost in thought, while jamie fidgeted nervously across from you, his brow furrowed with concern.

"y/n, can i ask you something?" jamie finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

you looked up, meeting his gaze with a wary expression. "sure, jamie. what's on your mind?"

he hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before speaking. "i've been meaning to ask you about clarisse," he began, his tone cautious. "i don't mean to pry, but i can't help but wonder... why are you two even dating?"

the question hit you like a ton of bricks, catching you off guard and leaving you momentarily speechless. you felt a surge of insecurity rising within you, the familiar doubts and fears bubbling to the surface.

"i mean, no offense," jamie continued, his voice gentle but probing. "but you're so affectionate and open, and clarisse... well, she's not exactly the warmest person around. it just doesn't seem like a good, healthy match, you know?"

his words struck a nerve, dredging up all the doubts and insecurities you'd been trying to push aside. you knew jamie meant well, but hearing him of all people voice your innermost fears only made them feel more real, more insurmountable.

you opened your mouth to respond, to defend your relationship and explain why you and clarisse were meant to be together, but the words caught in your throat. how could you explain something you barely understood yourself? how could you justify your love for someone who seemed so fundamentally different from you in every way?

instead, you fell silent, staring off into the distance as if searching for answers in the swirling depths of your own mind. you felt exposed, vulnerable, as if jamie had peeled back the layers of your carefully constructed facade and laid bare the truth for all to see.

"i... i don't know," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper as you struggled to find the words. "i guess i just... care about her, you know? despite everything."

“does she care about you?” he asked, making you flinch at his tone. jamie's expression softened, his earlier intensity replaced by a pang of remorse as he realized the impact of his words. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone sincere. "i didn't mean to upset you. i just... worry about you, that's all."

you managed a weak smile, grateful for jamie's concern even as the doubts continued to gnaw at your insides. "it's okay, jamie," you reassured him, though the words felt hollow on your lips. "i appreciate you looking out for me."

and with that, the moment passed, the tension dissipating like a wisp of smoke in the air. but as you sat there in the quiet of the mess hall, the questions lingered, echoing in the recesses of your mind like a haunting refrain. and though you tried to push them away, to bury them beneath the facade of contentment, you knew that jamie's words had struck a chord, igniting a spark of doubt that refused to be extinguished.

-

the next day dawned with a clarity that mirrored the turmoil swirling within you. as you sat across from clarisse in the mess hall, the events of the previous evening weighed heavily on your mind, casting a shadow over the once familiar surroundings.

you watched clarisse, her expression unreadable as she picked at her breakfast, lost in her own thoughts. the silence between you stretched on, thick and suffocating, until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"i love you, clarisse," you finally blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

the whole hall went silent.

clarisse looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a guarded intensity. for a moment, you held your breath, waiting for her response, but all she did was nod, her expression betraying nothing.

you felt a surge of frustration welling up within you, a desperate need for validation, for reassurance that your love was reciprocated. but as clarisse remained silent, her stoic facade unyielding, you realized with a sinking heart that your words had fallen on deaf ears.

with a heavy sigh, you pushed back your chair and stood up, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall like a thunderclap. clarisse watched you, her brow furrowed in confusion, as you made your way towards the exit.

"where are you going?" she called after you, her voice tinged with concern.

you stopped in your tracks, the weight of her question hanging in the air between you. you turned to face her, your heart heavy with resignation.

"away," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "i don't want to be with someone who won't tell me they love me back."

and with that, you turned on your heel and left, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the empty hall as you disappeared into the morning light. behind you, you could feel clarisse's eyes on your retreating figure, a frown marring her usually impassive features, but you didn't look back.

and though your heart ached with the pain of loss, you knew that sometimes, the hardest decisions were the ones that set you free.

the sun had began to dip low in the sky by the time you found yourself by the archery range, the familiar twang of bowstrings and the thud of arrows hitting their targets providing a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. you were lost in contemplation, the events of the morning replaying in your mind like a broken record, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

turning around, you saw clarisse striding towards you, her expression a mixture of determination and apprehension. you braced yourself for what was to come, unsure of what to expect as she drew nearer.

"did you break up with me?" clarisse blurted out, her voice tinged with disbelief.

you shrugged, unable to meet her gaze as you wrestled with your own conflicting emotions. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "maybe."

clarisse's eyes widened in shock, her features contorted with a mixture of confusion and hurt. without a word, she reached out and grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the archery range and towards a secluded spot by the edge of the woods.

once you were alone, she turned to face you, her eyes searching yours for answers. "y/n, i'm sorry," she began, her voice tinged with regret. "i know i haven't been the most... open person, and i understand if that's been hard for you. but please, don't leave me. i may not say it often, but i do love you. more than anything."

her words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions. you felt a surge of warmth spreading through you, a sense of relief and longing that you couldn't ignore.

with a grin, you closed the distance between you and clarisse, cupping her face in your hands as you leaned in to kiss her. it was a tender, passionate kiss, fueled by the unspoken words and unspoken emotions that had hung between you for so long.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you were exactly where you were meant to be—with the person you loved, by your side.