#and out of nowhere she gets really mad when I make the joke

[butchsucker]

THREE'S A CROWD (dina is pretty certain her girlfriend's best friend is jealous. she has an idea on how to fix that.)

pairing: ellie/dina/abby

contents: dom!dina, sub!abby, switch!ellie, threesome, childhood friends!ellabs, established relationship!dellie, unrequited feelings that are not unrequited, getting together, pussy eating, strap-on use, finger fucking, face sitting, scissoring, they all have two hands for a reason!

word count: 8,370

Dina can't prove it, but she's reasonably sure Abby wants to fuck her girlfriend.

Not just in a fleeting, passing-thought kind of way either. No, Dina suspects it's deeper than that. Something closer to devotion. Maybe even the slow, aching kind of love people write songs about. But all she has to go on is vibes and gut instinct. Circumstantial evidence. Nothing she'd take to court, but enough to keep her attention trained.

It's in the way Abby always finds reasons to need Ellie—stuff she could obviously handle herself. Picking up furniture. Running errands. Driving out to grab mulch or soil or god-knows-what for her garden. She always phrases it like she’s doing Ellie a favor, like Ellie is the one who'd be lost without her, but Dina sees through it. Sees how easily the two of them slide back into their rhythm—private jokes passed over Dina’s head, stories with gaps filled by shared memory, the kind of shorthand that only exists between people who’ve known each other long enough to see every version of the other.

At first, Dina thought it was sweet. Cute, even. She knows they’ve been close since forever, thick as thieves since middle school or whatever. Survived heartbreaks, bad haircuts, car crashes, college parties, all of it. That kind of bond doesn’t just go away. She gets that.

But the real giveaway is how Abby looks at Ellie. Soft, unguarded, like her whole chest cracks open when Ellie laughs too hard or sings along to the radio off-key. And Dina doesn't even think Abby realizes it. Doesn’t know she wears her heart on her damn face every time Ellie walks into the room.

Still, Dina doesn’t get mad. Not really. Not when she doesn't need to be.

She and Ellie are more than solid. Solid enough to have dabbled in the occasional three-way and remained exactly the same. Abby would be a different story entirely, though. Messy and unpredictable and entirely impossible to extricate from their lives.

So Dina lets it be. Doesn't poke the sleeping dog.

Not until Ellie asks her to come along on the summer trip.

It’s a tradition, she's learned—two weeks every July up at Abby’s family farmhouse. Just the two of them. Fresh air, hiking trails, river swims. A little cabin in the woods where they go to "connect with nature"—Ellie’s words, not hers. Dina’s seen the pictures, though. Golden light. Dusty porches. Ellie with a tan that makes her freckles pop and this relaxed grin she doesn’t wear in the city. She always comes back looking kissed by sunlight and hungry in a way that only Dina gets to satisfy.

It’s Dina’s favorite time of year for entirely selfish reasons.

So when Ellie says, out of nowhere, “You wanna come along this year?” while curled up with her head on Dina’s stomach, it throws her a little.

Dina pauses, her fingers stilled in Ellie’s hair. “You sure?”

Ellie nods without hesitation. “Yeah. I think you’d like it. There’s horses.”

“Hm.” Dina arches a brow, still half-scanning her phone. “Tempting. But I don’t think Abby’s gonna be thrilled.”

Ellie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Dina drawls, dragging her fingers lightly through Ellie’s hair, “I’ll be cutting into her precious Ellie time. She already doesn’t like me.”

“What?” Ellie props herself up enough to kiss her. “Abby loves you, babe.”

Dina raises a skeptical brow.

“No, seriously,” Ellie insists. “She thinks you’re cool as hell. You’re, like, scientifically impossible to dislike. Mathematically and shit.”

"Shut the fuck up," Dina says, laughing. "I mean, fine. If it's cool with you guys, I could do with some fresh air."

A few weeks pass in the slow, steady creep of real life. Work, errands, dinner dates, laundry. But the trip starts bleeding into everything. Ellie keeps texting Abby in bursts, group chat blowing up with hiking trail suggestions and “Should we bring board games or is that lame?” polls, like she isn’t absolutely bringing board games no matter what anyone says.

Dina finds that Abby is a lot friendlier via text than she is in person. Distantly, she considers if she's just shy.

They spend a whole Sunday packing, or trying to. Ellie gets distracted every fifteen minutes, trying to wrestle Dina onto the bed or suggestively leaning against the door way in invitation. Dina eventually has to bribe her with placating kisses and the promise of road trip playlists to get any actual work done.

Their cat—Joel Jr., a fuzzy little tyrant Ellie found in a box behind a diner two years ago—watches from the windowsill with the usual amount of disdain. They find a sitter on Rover who seems nice enough, and Dina leaves an overly detailed note just in case. She’s not worried about the cat. She’s worried about Ellie worrying about the cat.

The week before they leave, Dina catches herself double-checking her own packing list way more than she usually would. Extra socks, tampons, charging cables, extra film for her camera. Sunscreen. Strap.

It’s probably overkill.

It’s definitely overkill.

Before she knows it, they’re piling everything into Abby’s Jeep. Ever the chivalrous type, Abby hoists their bags into the trunk without a word of complaint. Ellie offers to help exactly once before getting distracted by the snack bag and putting dibs on all her favorite additions.

Somehow Dina ends up in the front seat. She half-expects Ellie to argue for it, but she's content to sprawl in the back and play DJ.

The drive’s a long one, just under five hours, and for the first half Dina’s animated, chatting, laughing, stealing sips of Ellie’s gas station soda. But eventually the sun and motion lull her into quiet. She dozes off somewhere past the halfway mark, boots tucked up on the dash. When she wakes, the Jeep is bumping up a gravel driveway, and Ellie’s flannel is folded under her head like a makeshift pillow. She doesn’t remember asking for it.

They pull up to the farmhouse just as the sun starts its lazy descent behind the trees, drenching everything in soft gold. The house is bigger than Dina expected—two stories with white paneling and navy shutters, a wide wrap-around porch, and a side garage. Stables sit a short walk away, nestled at the base of a low, grassy hill. A horse neighs in the distance like it’s welcoming them. It's very hallmark postcard.

Abby parks with the practiced ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times, then hops out and opens the trunk like a damn valet. “Rooms are the same as always,” she calls out as she grabs her own duffel. Dina nods like she knows what that means and lets Ellie lead the way.

The inside of the house smells like wood polish and linen. Cool despite the heat. Dina drags her suitcase upstairs while Ellie pokes around, flipping on lights, shouting commentary over her shoulder about what Jerry's changed around since last year.

Their room is cozy, all sun-washed walls and an old ceiling fan that creaks a little when Dina gives the chain a tug. There’s a double bed pushed up against the window and a bookshelf crammed with paperbacks and dusty board games.

Ellie kicks off her sneakers and immediately sprawls out, arms flung wide like she owns the place. Dina sits beside her, peeling off her jacket and letting her eyes fall shut for a minute. They lie like that for a while, trading lazy kisses, bodies barely touching, soaking in the silence.

It’s peaceful. Disarmingly so.

Until Abby calls up the stairs, “Lake in thirty, pack whatever you need!”

Dina blinks her eyes open and groans dramatically. “We just got here.”

Ellie nudges her thigh with a socked foot. “Abby's big on doing stuff. You'll get used to it.”

“Fiiine,” Dina grumbles, but she’s already unzipping her bag.

She changes into her swimsuit and throws a sheer cover-up on over it. Ellie’s not subtle about watching her. Not even a little. By the time they’re downstairs, Ellie’s hand is hovering at the small of her back, fingertips brushing bare skin under the hem of the cover.

“You look ridiculous right now,” Ellie murmurs, eyes tracing her legs.

“Ridiculously hot?”

“Obviously.”

By the front door, Dina presses Ellie up against the wall, grinning as she steals a kiss. Ellie kisses back eagerly, hands skimming her hips like she’s got nowhere else to be.

Then someone clears their throat. Loudly.

They break apart to find Abby standing near the doorway with a folded towel under one arm and a cooler in the other. There’s a very specific kind of pink blooming across her cheekbones and the tips of her ears.

Dina smirks. “We’re coming, don’t get your swimsuit in a twist.”

Abby rolls her eyes and turns away, muttering something that sounds like unbelievable under her breath.

Dina catches Ellie’s gaze and raises a brow. “Looks like someone's jealous.”

Ellie snorts, grabs the sunscreen, and says, “You’re a menace.”

“Not denying it.”

The lake’s maybe a ten-minute walk downhill, tucked into a little clearing with a rickety wooden dock stretching out over still water. There’s a few plastic Adirondack chairs pulled up near the edge, clearly weathered from years of use, and rope tied securely to a tree for swinging.

The sun’s low now, casting everything in that buttery, pre-sunset glow. Dina feels a little like she’s wandered into a stock photo for "summer getaway."

Abby kicks open the cooler and tosses them beers, except for Ellie—who gets a tall can of something aggressively pink with cartoon fruit on it.

“What in the Lisa Frank hell is that?” Dina asks, eyebrow raised as she cracks her beer.

“Passionfruit lime vodka spritz,” Abby says, straight-faced. “Your girlfriend likes to cosplay being a beer drinker. That's actually her fave.”

Ellie snorts. “Don’t knock it ‘til you taste it.”

Dina gives her a look. “Abby, that is dangerously girlfriend material behavior.”

Abby shrugs and settles into a chair, stretching her long legs out. “It’s just being a good friend.”

“Mm-hm. Sure.”

Abby tips her beer up to hide a smirk, which only encourages Dina more.

Ellie, clearly bored of being the center of attention, starts digging through her bag for rolling papers. “They taste even better after one of these,” she says, laying everything out in her lap like she’s setting up camp.

Her fingers move with practiced ease, fast and a little showy, and Dina watches her for a minute, openly admiring the casual hotness of it all.

Once the joint’s rolled and lit, Ellie takes the first hit and leans back with a satisfied sigh. “Here,” she says, handing it off to Abby.

Dina watches with interest. “I thought you didn't smoke, Abby.” She recalls the few times Abby has turned down the offer.

Abby takes it without hesitation, puffing like it's nothing new. “Special occasion,” she replies after exhaling, voice a little rougher.

Ellie snickers. “Yeah, this is her two-week sabbatical from being a functional adult.”

Dina grins, already turning that over in her mind. “Oh? You get bad?”

Abby shrugs again, but her ears are starting to go red. “Not that bad.”

Ellie’s already halfway to giggling. “Last year, she got so drunk I found her passed out in the stables.”

“That was one time,” Abby says, flustered now, and Dina could absolutely bottle this feeling. She lives for how easy it is to get under her skin. Easier than Ellie, which is saying something.

"Don't let Ellie make fun of you," Dina says, shaking her head. "This is the same girl who got drunk and cried because I was asleep. In the same house as her."

Ellie shoves her lightly. "Don't go spilling all my embarrassing secrets like that. I have a reputation to uphold."

"You get weepy," Abby says with a shrug. "That's a well-known secret."

And for while that's the energy, a comfortable back and forth and swapping of playful jabs and reminiscing. Dina can already see why Ellie loves taking this trip.

Eventually, Dina pushes up out of her chair and stretches with a lazy groan. “I’m swimming,” she announces. “Before I drink more and forget how to use my legs.”

“I’ll come,” Abby says, already standing.

Ellie barely cracks an eye open. “Have fun.”

They don’t even look at each other before both Abby and Dina say, in perfect unison, “Put your sunscreen on.”

"That was so fucking freaky," Ellie says, shuddering dramatically. “The sun’s barely out.”

Dina pads over, pops the cap on the bottle, and smears a dollop on her fingertips. “But it is out. Yes?” She straddles Ellie’s thighs and starts rubbing it into her face, despite the way she twists and turns to get away.

Dina only backs off when she's satisfied with her job.

Ellie mutters something rude and takes another sip of her drink.

By the time they make it to the dock, Dina’s peeled off her cover-up.

She dives in, cool water rushing over her skin like a jolt. When she surfaces, Abby’s already in behind her, slicking her hair back with both hands. The two of them float for a while in peaceful silence, accompanied only by the faint chirp of insects and the occasional flow of water.

“This is really beautiful,” Dina says, softer now, just for Abby.

Abby glances over at her and offers a lazy smile. “Yeah. I like it here," she says. "I'm glad you could make it."

“Thanks for inviting me,” Dina adds, and it’s honest. “I know it was probably a little weird.”

Abby pauses, then: “Ellie said…you thought I didn’t like you.”

Dina blinks, surprised by the directness. “Fuckin' Ellie," she says with an exasperated laugh.

“I do like you. For the record,” Abby says, and it’s quiet, but not hesitant. “You’re really cool. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn't think so.”

Dina floats for a second, just letting that settle in. Letting herself absorb how sincere it is.

She’s going to ask Ellie if she wants to fuck Abby. Together. Like, tonight. Okay. Maybe tonight is a bit much.

“Thanks,” Dina says, her tone light and unreadable. “You’re alright, too. Definitely not as cool as me, but that's a high bar.”

-

Dina wakes to the gentle hush of morning, the kind that feels like the house itself is still half-asleep. Pale sunlight filters in through gauzy curtains, warm across the blanket tangled around her legs. Ellie’s still out cold beside her, sprawled face-down and mouth-open, one arm slung across the empty side of the bed like she was reaching for her in her sleep.

It makes Dina smile, fond and stupid, and she kisses the back of Ellie’s shoulder before slipping out from under the covers.

She pads quietly through the upstairs hall, trying not to step on the one floorboard that creaks, and makes her way down to the kitchen, stretching as she goes. Her body feels good—well-rested, loose from yesterday’s swim.

She’s expecting to find the kitchen dark and empty, but there’s already a faint clink of ceramic and the rich smell of coffee wafting through the space.

Abby’s perched at the kitchen island, fully dressed like she’s been up for hours. Her braid is neat and tight, not a single hair out of place, and she’s hunched slightly over her phone, scrolling with the kind of practiced thumb-swipe that says she’s not even really reading.

“Wow,” Dina says, voice low but smug as she rounds the corner. “Up, dressed, caffeinated? What time do you usually wake up, soldier?”

Abby jumps and nearly knocks her coffee over.

Dina grins. “Shit, sorry. Didn't mean to spook you.”

Abby sets her mug down with a soft thunk and gives her a withering look that fails to land. “You're up early."

“Always am,” Dina says, moving toward the counter. “Ooh is that coffee?”

Abby leans back against the counter, arms crossed, and nods toward the machine. “Want me to make you some?”

“Sweet and creamy,” Dina says, cheeky. “Like me.”

Abby actually snorts. It's a full-on, nose-wrinkling thing and Dina feels a small burst of pride about it.

“Sweet and creamy,” Abby echoes under her breath, already grabbing a second mug and pouring carefully. She slides it over once it’s been sufficiently doctored, with sugar and that hazelnut creamer Dina spotted in the fridge yesterday.

Dina sips, makes a satisfied little hum, and hops up to sit on one of the stools at the island. “Mm. You're the best, Abby.”

“I do what I can,” Abby mutters, sipping her own and finally setting her phone down. “Ellie still out?”

“Dead to the world,” Dina confirms, swinging her legs slightly. “It's almost impressive how long she can sleep.”

Abby's mouth lifts in the corners a bit. "Yeah."

There’s a comfortable quiet that settles between them, filled with nothing but birdsong and the tick of the old clock on the wall. It’s easy, surprisingly so, and Dina lets it be for a moment before asking, “You got any plans for today?”

Abby shrugs, running her thumb around the rim of her mug. “I usually hike in the mornings. There’s a trail behind the stables—nothing intense. Just gets the blood flowing.”

Dina arches a brow. “A sunrise hike and black coffee? I see why Joel like you so much."

“Oh god, not you, too.” Abby says flatly.

"Fine, I'll leave you alone, grandpa." Dina grins. “You ever get Ellie on these little hikes?”

“She’s allergic to uphill,” Abby replies dryly. “She’ll do it if I bribe her, but mostly she just sleeps in.”

Dina nods thoughtfully. “Well, I wouldn’t mind tagging along. If you don’t mind having me.”

Abby blinks once, like she wasn’t expecting that.

“I mean, unless this is a sacred alone time sort of thing,” Dina adds, tone light but probing.

“No. No, it’s not. I’d like the company,” Abby says, too quickly. She clears her throat. “If you’re sure.”

“Positive,” Dina says, finishing her coffee. “But I’m not doing cardio on an empty stomach. Feed me first, and I’ll consider it.”

Abby, ever the provider, throws together a quick breakfast for them. Dina offers to help and is immediately shooed away, so she perches on the counter and steals berries while Abby cooks.

They eat at the island again, easy and quiet, Abby already having pulled out a plate and slid it into the microwave for Ellie, like she’s done it a hundred times. Dina pretends not to clock the domesticity of it.

Afterward, she hops into the shower upstairs, savoring the water pressure and the citrusy shampoo Abby must use (which she definitely, absolutely does not steal a handful of). She gets dressed—bike shorts, tank top, zip-up hoodie tied around her waist—and throws the essentials into a small backpack. Sunscreen. Water. Bug spray.

They set out through the stables, the trailhead just past a crumbling old fence. The path is mostly shaded, winding gently uphill with patches of sunlight peeking through the trees. The air is crisp and clean, smelling like pine and fresh dirt. Birds chirp, bugs buzz.

They fall into an easy rhythm. Dina’s not much for morning conversation, but Abby talks just enough to fill the quiet—commenting on the plants, pointing out deer tracks, telling her about the one time a raccoon tried to follow her home.

They talk about movies, music, stupid high school shit. Ellie comes up more than once, always with this unspoken fondness hovering in the background. But it’s not just Ellie. It’s them. Dina and Abby, side by side, feet kicking up dust and shoulders occasionally bumping. It feels natural. Surprisingly so.

At the peak, the trees fall away to a wide overlook, revealing miles of rolling green hills and the glitter of the lake far below. They stand there for a moment, catching their breath.

“Okay,” Dina says, pulling out her phone. “Picture time.”

Abby blinks at her. “Want me to take it for you?”

Dina rolls her eyes. "No, idiot. Get in here."

Abby hesitates—adorably, of course—before leaning in. Dina snaps a few, flicking through until she finds the one she likes.

She sends it to Ellie with the caption: proof of life. also, ur gf is a surprisingly tolerable hiking buddy.

Ellie replies in seconds: dina pls. if she's anybody's gf rn, it's urs.

also i cannot believe u let her drag u on the torture trail.

Dina: joke’s on you. i volunteered.

Ellie: psycho behavior. come back. i’m bored.

Dina laughs under her breath and tucks her phone away. “Ellie says we’re psychos.”

“She’s not wrong,” Abby says, stretching her arms overhead, shirt rising just enough to reveal toned muscle and a trail of skin that Dina absolutely does not ogle. For too long.

They start the descent, chatting about what they’ll do for lunch and how Ellie is probably still in bed. And then Dina steps weird on a loose bit of rock—her ankle rolls and pain shoots up her leg, sharp and sudden.

“Shit—fuck—” she gasps, catching herself on a nearby tree.

Abby’s on her in a heartbeat, crouched in front of her like some disaster-response. “Hey, hey—what happened?”

“My ankle has betrayed me,” Dina says through clenched teeth, trying to breathe through it. “God, I am so pissed. I was doing great.”

“Can I see?”

Dina nods, and Abby reaches out—huge hands gentle as she cups her foot and peels off her sneaker. Her palm wraps around Dina’s ankle entirely, warm and firm and careful, and Dina almost blacks out for an entirely different reason.

“Not swelling,” Abby mutters. “Not hot to the touch. Probably just strained.”

Dina makes a sound that is absolutely not a whimper. “You’re very competent.”

Abby blinks up at her. “Uh. Thanks?”

“I’m just saying,” Dina continues, trying for casual and failing. “You're like the first person I've ever met who I could describe with the word dreamy.”

Abby’s ears go pink again.

After helping her back up, Abby wordlessly takes Dina’s bag from her and slings it over one shoulder. She slows her pace on the way back, always staying just half a step beside her, offering a hand when the path gets uneven.

By the time they make it back to the house, Dina’s ankle is just sore enough to be annoying. Not bad enough to limp dramatically, but noticeable if you know what to look for—and of course, Ellie does.

She’s padding down the stairs in a sleep-rumpled t-shirt and boyshorts, hair a mess, a half-eaten protein bar in her hand. The second her eyes land on Dina’s gait, she frowns.

“Why are you walking like someone’s dad who just mowed the lawn?”

Dina smirks, easing herself onto the couch. “Wow. Thanks, babe. I twisted my ankle a little on the trail.”

Ellie’s brows shoot up. “What the fuck? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dina assures her. “Just sore.”

Ellie points a dramatic finger. “Sit. Don’t move.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dina says, dropping back against the cushions with a sigh. “I feel so cared for.”

Ellie disappears into the kitchen and calls out, “Honestly surprised Abby didn’t insist on carrying you down in her arms. She loves showing off."

Dina’s halfway through a laugh when Abby’s voice floats down the hallway, dry and just loud enough. “Bold of you to say that when you literally whined and begged until I carried you down last time. Nothing was even wrong with you.”

Ellie freezes mid-step with two water bottles and a bag of chips in hand. “That’s slander.”

“Uh-huh,” Abby replies from the stairs.

Dina bursts out laughing, especially at the scandalized look on Ellie’s face.

“I was tired,” Ellie insists, handing Dina the water. “And my feet hurt. And I was on my period.”

“You were being a big baby,” Abby says, already disappearing into the bathroom.

Ellie glares in her direction. “I hope you slip in the shower, traitor.”

Abby flips her off before the door swings shut, and Dina is thoroughly entertained.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, cracking open the water bottle.

“You knew what this was when you signed up,” Ellie grins, then crouches at the end of the couch and takes Dina’s ankle into her hands. “Seriously though, does it hurt a lot?”

“Nah. It’s already better,” Dina says, watching Ellie’s fingers rub gently at the skin just above her sock. “You’re such a good nurse. This is why I keep you around.”

“Yeah, I’m very versatile,” Ellie deadpans. “Like a Swiss Army girlfriend.”

Dina laughs again, her smile lingering—until the moment stretches just long enough to shift from soft to weighted. She eyes Ellie, thumb lazily running over her knuckles, and decides not to waste time dancing around it.

“So,” she starts casually, “how would you feel about fucking Abby?”

Ellie blinks. “Jesus, Dina.”

“What?” She asks, giggling.

Ellie sits back a little, mouth twitching like she’s fighting a grin. “What the hell happened on that hike?”

Dina shrugs, smirking. “Nothing, really. The thought came to me, and it would be a mutually beneficial series of orgasms.”

“You're so benevolent.”

“I know right?” Dina agrees. “It's like, at first I thought she just wanted you but my eyes have been opened."

Ellie raises her brows. “I mean, she isn't exactly subtle. The acts of service really give her away every time.”

“Exactly,” Dina says, pointing at her.

Ellie chews on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I mean...yeah, I’d be down. She’s hot. I’ve always said that.”

“You're so easy, El,” Dina teases.

“For you? Hell yeah." Ellie says, jerking her chin in the direction of the bathroom. "Abby on the other hand, not so much. There’s no way she goes for it.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Dina says, resting her head back against the couch. “Watch and learn.”

Ellie laughs. “You're so hot when you're hatching plans.”

“Thank you,” Dina says with a grin. “I try.”

-

Their two weeks at the farmhouse pass in a haze of sunlight and slow mornings. Lake days bleed into barefoot evenings, skin sun-warmed and speckled with freckles. They ride horses out through tall grass trails, pack picnic lunches with too much bread and not enough utensils, and get used to the constant soundtrack of cicadas and distant birdsong. Nights are for shared meals and low conversation, the occasional competitive game of cards or dominoes, and one particularly tipsy bonfire where Ellie regales them with (badly) improvised songs on her guitar.

Dina’s favorite is “Dina’s Nice Rack.”

By all accounts, it’s kind of perfect.

And now it’s their last night.

Dina knows, almost from the beginning, that she’s going to wait for this exact moment. One final evening, when the comfort is thick and earned, and whatever happens doesn’t have to be carried awkwardly into another breakfast or trail ride. If it goes bad, they’ll pack up and pretend it never happened. If it goes well…well. They’ll figure that out later.

She finds Abby in the den, curled into the worn leather couch, watching something she clearly isn’t invested in. Her chin’s propped on one fist, the other hand slowly demolishing a bowl of kettle corn.

“Hey,” Dina says, casually leaning in the doorway. She’s dressed for bed—or something like it—in just a black bralette and underwear, a thin robe tied over it all. A treat for later, maybe. For now, she plays it casual.

Abby looks up. “Hey.”

“You wanna come play a game?” Dina asks, tilting her head. “Ellie and I are doing truth or drink, but it’s not as fun with just two people.”

Abby arches a brow, skeptical. “Truth or drink?”

“It’s like truth or dare for people who are too lazy to do dares. A little baring of the soul, if you will.” Dina grins, all teeth and trouble.

Abby hesitates for a beat, then shrugs. She sets the popcorn aside and stands. “Sure. Why not?”

The farmhouse creaks underfoot as they climb the stairs. The bedroom Ellie and Dina have claimed is warm with lamplight and smells faintly of eucalyptus and sandalwood. Ellie’s already sprawled across the bed in boxers and a ribbed tank top, hair piled messily on her head, one knee hitched as she scrolls lazily through her phone. She looks up when they enter and grins like she’s been expecting this all night.

“Look who I found,” Dina announces, voice sing-song.

Ellie’s grin widens. “Knew you’d cave.”

Abby gives her a dry look as she toes off her shoes. “Didn’t realize I was being hunted.”

“Oh, Abby,” Ellie says, tossing her phone aside, “always assume you’re being hunted.”

Dina snorts and pats the mattress. “Come on, sit. You’re in the middle. Ellie gets wandering hands.”

Abby hesitates again, visibly debating whether she’s about to make a poor life choice. Then she climbs up, careful but casual, and settles between them—clearly trying not to think too hard about the fact that Dina is basically in lingerie and Ellie’s arm rests on Abby's thigh like an armrest.

Dina smiles to herself and reaches for the little tray on the nightstand, where three short glasses sit already filled with mixed drinks. Sweet with a kick, just enough to blur the edges if things get sharp.

“It’s peach tea and whiskey,” Dina says, settling cross-legged on the bed with a satisfied little wriggle. “Don’t look so scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Abby replies, taking a sip.

Ellie raises a brow. “That sounds like something a scared person would say.”

“Alright,” Dina interrupts, clapping once. “Ground rules: answer honestly or take a drink. No skipping, no whining, no pleading the fifth.”

“And no deflecting with a question,” Ellie adds, still lounging like a smug little cat.

“Got it.” Abby leans back against the headboard and crosses her arms.

“Okay,” Dina says, leaning forward. “Ellie, you start. Make it a good one.”

Ellie grins, toothy and mischievous, and turns to Abby. “Alright, Abs. When’s the last time you got off?”

Abby chokes slightly on her drink. “Wow.”

Dina throws her head back laughing. “Straight to the filth. No foreplay.”

“I don’t waste time,” Ellie says with a shrug. “So?”

Abby’s ears are definitely pink. She glances at her drink like she might use it as a shield, but then shrugs. “Couple nights ago. Shower.”

“Ohhh,” Dina coos. “Quick clean up. Efficient.”

“Don’t ask what I was thinking about,” Abby mutters, mostly to her glass.

“Oh, we’re definitely circling back to that,” Ellie says. “But go ahead. Your turn.”

Abby exhales, clearly trying to seem unaffected. “Fine. Dina. Have you ever had a threesome?”

Dina doesn’t blink. “Yes.”

Ellie grins, looking very happy with herself. “I was there!”

“Last time was a while ago,” Dina adds with a shrug. “Roommate. Bad idea. Don’t recommend.”

Abby’s face is unreadable, but her hand tightens just a little on her glass.

Ellie nudges her. “Are you really surprised? Don’t be surprised.”

Dina points her glass at Ellie. “Got one for you, babe. How many people in this room would you kiss?”

“Myself excluded, but I would if I could,” Ellie says, sipping slowly. “Two.”

Abby's brows furrow and Dina sees that she only relaxes once she sees Dina smiling. "Interesting," she says. "Your turn."

“Alright,” Ellie says. “Abby. Be honest, have you ever thought about me while touching yourself?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Abby blinks.

Dina watches her like a cat watches a mouse, not out of malice, just hunger. Abby’s mouth opens, then closes. Her gaze flicks between the two of them. She hesitates.

And then, slowly, she lifts her glass and takes a drink.

“Damn,” Ellie says, delighted. “A non-answer is so an answer.”

“You’re awful,” Abby mutters, but her mouth quirks.

“I’m a delight,” Ellie counters, leaning back on one elbow. “Dina, your turn.”

Dina looks at Abby, letting the moment sit heavy between them.

“Abby,” she says sweetly. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Ellie lets out a tiny, surprised breath.

Abby goes still.

The fizzing energy in the room spikes into something bright and sharp. For a second, no one moves. Then Abby licks her lips. Her eyes flick to Ellie, who doesn’t look surprised. A little interested, very amused.

Dina watches the way her throat bobs when she swallows.

And then Abby says, softly, “Yeah.”

Dina’s smile curves slow and warm. “Good.”

Dina shifts forward before Abby can overthink it. Her glass clinks softly on the nightstand as she sets it down, then she reaches out, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing Abby’s jaw.

“C’mere,” she murmurs.

Abby doesn’t move at first, like she’s waiting for the joke to land. But Dina’s thumb is already sliding along her cheekbone, steady and coaxing, and Ellie doesn’t say a word—just watches with parted lips and something bright in her eyes.

So Abby leans in.

The kiss starts careful. Dina’s mouth is warm, soft, tasting faintly like peach and whiskey. Abby kisses like she lifts weights: all control, focus, the barest tremble of tension in the hands that rest on her thighs, like she’s holding herself back from grabbing. Dina lets it simmer a second before she deepens it, tilting her head and letting her teeth graze Abby’s lower lip.

Abby makes a sound, low and involuntary, and Dina feels the shiver of it down her spine.

She pulls back just enough to whisper, “Still good?”

Abby nods, a little breathless. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.”

Ellie’s voice slides in behind them, low and teasing. “Jesus. That was hot.”

Abby looks over, flushed and still catching her breath—and that’s all the invitation Ellie needs.

She leans in and kisses Abby too.

Abby stutters a little in surprise, but Ellie’s hand is already on her knee, her mouth soft and coaxing. This kiss is different—less testing, more knowing. Like they’ve imagined it enough times that the rhythm comes naturally. Abby’s hand rises, hesitant, and settles lightly on Ellie’s hip.

When Ellie pulls back, her smile is wicked. “You're pretty good at that.”

Dina laughs, genuinely delighted, and pulls Ellie into a kiss over Abby's lap. Her hand rests on the column of Ellie's throat, squeezing the barest amount as she keeps her just where she wants her. When Ellie moans into it, Abby makes another noise under her breath, and Dina grins without breaking the kiss.

She pulls away, half-leaning over one of Abby's thighs now, robe slipping open just enough to tease.

“So,” Dina says. “Still think you’re not the one being hunted?”

Abby laughs once, breathy and amazed. “I might’ve been wrong.”

“Yeah,” Ellie adds, crawling in closer to bracket Abby’s other side. “You totally are.”

Abby opens her mouth to reply—but Dina grips her jaw and pulls her into a kiss that's all hunger and pent up want. No more hesitation. She tangles her fingers into Abby's hair and tugs as she takes exactly what she's been wanting for the past two weeks. And Abby lets her, one of those strong hands coming to rest on her waist, curling into the silky fabric of her robe.

Ellie kisses along Abby’s jaw, then down her throat, slow and reverent. Dina squeezes her thigh together in a bid to relieve some of the burning arousal; she kisses her until Abby is warm all over, breathing like she’s run a sprint.

And when Dina finally whispers against her lips, “Take your hoodie off,” Abby obeys like it’s gospel.

Dina finds that she likes how easily Abby listens, how she looks to her so blatantly seeking approval. Ellie usually requires more effort, a push and pull for that well-earned control. Abby, it seems, is just eager to please.

Ellie wastes no time shoving her hand under Abby's shirt and pawing wherever she can reach. Abby gasps and arches into the touch and Dina quickly undoes her robe and tosses it over the side of the bed.

Ellie grins, all teeth and delight, and hooks her fingers under the hem of Abby’s shirt. “Arms up, big girl.”

Abby rolls her eyes but does it, lifting her arms obediently, and Ellie peels the shirt up and over in one smooth motion until Abby is bare from the waist up, flushed and breathing harder than before.

“Fuck,” Ellie murmurs, immediately leaning in to mouth at Abby’s chest, tongue wet and lazy. “Look what she's been keeping from us,” she says to Dina.

"How selfish."

Abby starts to answer, probably something sarcastic but the words die the second Ellie’s teeth scrape gently over one nipple, then soothe the bite with a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

Dina’s hand strokes slowly down Abby’s torso, fingers brushing over the newly exposed skin, tracing lines from sternum to stomach. She presses a few soft kisses under Abby’s ribs as she goes, watching the way Abby’s abdomen flinches beneath the attention. It makes her grin.

“I've never seen you so shaken, Abby,” Dina says softly. “It’s a good look on you.”

Abby makes another sound—part whimper, part laugh—and her hands flex against the sheets.

Ellie’s lips are shiny when she looks up. “I don’t think she knows what to do with both of us at once.”

“Not yet,” Dina agrees, and hooks her fingers into the waistband of Abby’s shorts. “But she’s gonna learn.”

She leans in to kiss lower, just above the hem, while slowly sliding the shorts and underwear down together. She does it deliberately, the backs of her knuckles brushing against the tender inside of Abby’s thighs as she peels the last layers off. Ellie helps by lifting Abby’s hips just enough so Dina can tug them down fully and toss them away.

And then Abby’s naked. Laid out in front of them. Gorgeous and already wrecked from nothing but teasing touches and two hungry mouths.

Dina sits back for a second just to take her in. “Look at you,” she murmurs. “Beautiful.”

Ellie hums her agreement, dragging her teeth along Abby’s shoulder. “All laid out for us. So fucking hot.”

Abby groans, slaps a hand over her face and then gasps when Dina kisses the inside of her knee and works her way up with slow, open-mouthed heat.

“I swear to God,” Abby breathes.

“You like the praise, don’t you?” Dina grins against her skin. “Get all squirmy when we talk about how hot you are.”

Abby tries to glare at her but it doesn’t stick, not with Ellie’s hand teasing slow circles near her hip and Dina’s mouth inching ever closer between her thighs.

Abby’s already trembling when Dina finally licks into her hot and slow. She moans, a sharp broken sound, and Ellie actually laughs, low and delighted, as she lays beside Abby. Her fingers still idly massaging her tits.

“Jesus, Dina,” Abby gasps, hips twitching. “Fuck—”

“Mm,” Ellie hums, grinning down at her. “You don’t even know. That’s her being nice.”

Dina doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look up. She’s too busy burying her face between Abby’s thighs, hands gripping firm hips to hold her in place as she licks again—this time slower, deeper, like she’s savoring the taste. Her fingers dig in as Abby writhes, and the pleased noise Dina makes in response sends another full-body shiver through her.

Ellie raises a hand, brushes hair back from Abby’s sweaty temple. “You’re so fucking lucky,” she murmurs, eyes shining. “She usually makes me beg for it. Beg and then explain myself. Like, ‘why do you deserve to come, Ellie?’ And if the answer’s not good enough, she’ll stop.”

Abby whimpers. Her hands fly to Dina’s shoulders, not to push her away, just to hold on.

Dina pulls back just barely—mouth slick, smile positively sinful. “I'm being nice. Just this once,” she says against Abby’s thigh, then kisses her clit with a wet smack. “You should be grateful.”

“I am,” Abby pants. “I fucking am.”

Dina hums in satisfaction and dives back in, tonguing her open with the kind of practiced confidence that makes Abby keen. Her tongue moves slow at first, then faster, learning what Abby likes and giving her more. One of Dina’s hands sneaks between her own legs without thinking, fingertips working as she grinds against her palm, helplessly turned on by the sounds Abby makes—those desperate, involuntary cries as she bucks under the attention.

Ellie’s voice floats above them, almost dreamy. “She gets so into it. Look at her—Dina’s gonna come just from eating you out.”

Abby squeezes her eyes shut, head tipped back, every muscle straining.

“Look at her,” Ellie whispers again, hand stroking slow and possessive down Abby’s torso. “Look at what you’re doing to her.”

Abby forces her eyes open—just for a second—and the sight almost ends her.

Dina’s eyes are closed, her face completely buried between Abby’s thighs. She’s moaning into it like it’s the best meal of her life, grinding herself down hard against her hand. Her hair's all messy, cheeks flushed, and Abby realizes she’s not holding back at all. She’s gone on it. Obsessed. Her fingers dig bruises into Abby’s hips as she fucks her with her mouth, relentless and wild.

And Abby can’t take it. The image burns behind her eyes as her thighs clamp tighter around Dina’s head and she finally, finally breaks apart with a sob.

She comes hard, gasping through it, one hand fisting in Dina’s hair and the other gripping Ellie’s forearm like she might float off the bed otherwise.

And Dina doesn’t stop—not right away. She licks her through it, working her down slow, like she’s reluctant to give it up. Like she could stay there forever.

When she finally pulls away, face slick and eyes still dark with hunger, she looks up and grins.

“Well,” she says hoarsely, catching her breath. “That was fun.”

Ellie barks a laugh and strokes a hand down Abby’s side. “She’s such a show-off.”

“I’m just efficient,” Dina says, crawling back up to slot herself against Abby’s side. She presses a kiss to her shoulder. “And maybe a little obsessed.”

Abby is still catching her breath, totally wrecked. “Fuck.”

“Eloquent,” Ellie teases, kissing her flushed cheek. “And you haven’t even gotten to the really fun part yet.”

After discarding her underwear over the side of the bed, Dina leans in close and murmurs something in Ellie's ear. Whatever it is makes Ellie’s breath stutter, her eyes flick down to Abby, still dazed, still pliant, skin flushed and glistening with sweat.

“Oh,” Ellie says, voice a little hoarse. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

She shifts off the bed long enough to peel her boxers down and toss them to the floor, leaving her in just the ribbed tank. Her thighs are already slick, muscles tensing with anticipation as she climbs back up and swings one leg over Abby’s chest, then slowly inches backwards until she's straddling her face.

She can't see Abby's face like this, but she can imagine it well enough. “This good?” Ellie asks, already lowering her hips.

Abby doesn’t answer with words, she grabs Ellie’s thighs and pulls her down like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted. Ellie moans, loud and unfiltered, grinding down gently against Abby’s mouth. “Oh fuck—fuck, okay.”

Dina just watches, greedy and delighted, before crawling between Abby's legs.

“Look at you,” Dina says, dragging her fingers lightly up Ellie's sides, making her twitch. “You're taking her so good, baby.”

Ellie whines, hips rocking forward. "God, she’s—fuck, she’s really good at this.”

“Oh, I know,” Dina purrs. “Our girl's a pleaser.”

Ellie laughs breathlessly as Abby redoubles her efforts. She braces one hand on Abby's toned stomach, the other coming up to cup Dina’s cheek as they meet in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Dina licks into her, slow and deep, and throws one of her legs over Abby's. It gives her the perfect angle to grind their pussies together; she whines into Ellie's mouth as the sensation overtakes her.

Abby groans into Ellie, and the vibration makes Ellie shiver.

“Shit,” she pants. “Shit, Dina.”

“I’ve got you,” Dina murmurs, breath hot against her lips. “Just ride her. Let her make you come.”

Ellie does, grinding slow and firm, lost in it. Her fingers tangle in Dina’s hair again as they kiss, filthy and heated and desperate. Her thighs tremble around Abby’s head.

And all the while, Dina keeps her hips working, keeps Abby’s and her own slick centers sliding together, over and over. Abby’s body is caught between them, mouth busy, hips jerking with every slow drag of friction. Her whimpers are muffled but constant—needy, overwhelmed, into it.

“You’re doing so good,” Ellie whispers, breath shaking. “Fuck—so good, Abs.”

“She loves it,” Dina says, teeth grazing Ellie’s lower lip. “You can hear how wet she is, right?”

Ellie moans in agreement, burying her face against Dina’s neck as her hips stutter. “I’m—fuck! M'gonna come.”

“Good,” Dina whispers, one hand cradling Ellie’s jaw. “Come for me, baby. Come on her mouth.”

That does it.

Ellie cries out, thighs clenching around Abby’s face as she bucks through it. Her whole body trembles with it—every muscle pulled taut, fingers gripping Dina like a lifeline. And Abby holds her there, doesn’t stop licking even when Ellie starts to squirm and gasp.

Dina kisses the side of Ellie’s face, murmuring sweet filth against her skin, and focuses on chasing her own pleasure. She grinds down fast and hard, and Abby does her best to answer each of her movements with her own. It doesn't take long before Dina is throwing her head back and digging her nails into tanned, freckled skin.

Beneath them, Abby is panting, chest heaving, eyes wild and so ready for more.

Dina sits up a little and glances across the room, fingers trailing teasingly between Ellie’s thighs, just to make her whimper.

“Hey, Abs,” Dina calls, already shifting to reach for the bedside drawer. She comes up with the harness and dildo in hand, dangling it by the strap like a promise. “Put this on?"

Abby, flushed and wide-eyed, hesitates for just a second—then swallows hard and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dina Abby’s strong hands make quick work of the buckles, and soon the strap is snug low on her hips, thick cock jutting out heavy and ready. She runs a hand along it like she’s testing the weight.

Dina bites her lip, gaze raking over her. “God, look at you.”

Then she lays back again, guiding Ellie to reposition—twisting around so she’s nearly upside-down on top of Dina, her mouth hovering just above Dina’s slick center. Dina spreads her thighs wide, one arm wrapping around Ellie’s middle, the other hand reaching down to slip two fingers into her with practiced ease. Ellie keens, arching into her.

“All good?” Dina checks, glancing down at Ellie’s flushed face between her legs.

Ellie groans. “So good. Fuck, Dina.”

“Good.” Then she lifts her chin, locks eyes with Abby, and adds, “Come here, babe.”

Abby climbs up onto the bed, kneeling between Dina’s spread thighs. Her hands settle at Dina’s hips, waiting for the final go-ahead.

Dina lets her fingers curl just right inside Ellie, making her twitch. “Slow at first. Let me feel it stretch.”

Abby nods, positioning the strap. “Yeah. Got it.”

The first push makes Dina suck in a breath and she keeps her fingers moving inside Ellie as Abby fills her, slow and steady.

“Yes,” Dina groans. “That’s it, Abs. Just like that.”

Ellie moans against her, and then—ever the overachiever—dips her head and starts licking, her tongue and nose brushing Dina’s clit. Her hips twitch at the sensation, caught in the middle of perfect stimulation, stretched full and wrecked in the best way.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, flexing her fingers inside Ellie as she rocks her hips up. “That feels so fucking good. My good girls."

Abby starts thrusting a little harder, finding her rhythm, hands firm on Dina’s waist. Her eyes are locked on where they’re joined, like she’s mesmerized.

“You’re so tight,” Abby groans. “Fuck, Dina.”

“Yeah?” Dina pants. “You like fucking me like this? Like doing a good job for me?”

"I do. I really do." Abby tightens her grip on Dina's waist and fucks into her harder, bordering on desperate.

Ellie moans helplessly against her, hips rolling. Dina curls her fingers just right again and grins when Ellie chokes out a noise.

“She’s so close already,” Dina says, breathless. “You feel that, Abs? How I squeeze around you when she moans like that?”

Abby groans, pace faltering for a moment, overwhelmed.

“Keep going,” Dina says sharply, nails digging into Abby’s hip. “You’re doing so good. Make me come.”

Abby thrusts harder, deeper now, the sound of skin on skin obscene. Ellie’s licking faster too, breath ragged and desperate. Dina is caught in the middle of it, taking and giving and thriving.

Her back arches, every nerve alive. “Just like that, don’t you dare stop—”

And then it all crashes over her. Pleasure sparking up her spine, thighs clamping around Ellie’s head, a groan ripped from her throat as she comes hard around Abby’s cock.

Ellie cries out too, stuttering on her tongue, grinding against Dina’s mouth as she comes seconds later, shaking apart.

And Abby, gasping, still fucking her through it, can’t tear her eyes away. Dina lies back, spent and smug, one hand lazily stroking Ellie’s thigh.

-

Eventually, the three of them manage to collect themselves.

There’s soft laughter as Ellie trips over her own shorts trying to get them on, and a sharp yelp when Abby yanks them up for her. Dina barely bothers tying her robe back up, content to wander half-naked between the bathroom and the bedroom, passing out water and kisses like party favors.

They wash off the sweat and slick with quick, sleepy showers. They’re all bare-faced and quiet by the time they crawl into Abby’s bed, limbs tangled, hearts loud in their chests.

Abby’s room is bigger, the mattress softer, the blankets kicked halfway off by the time they settle. Dina ends up in the middle this time, Ellie pinned half under her, Abby curled protectively along her other side. Someone’s hand finds her waist. Someone else’s fingers are laced with hers.

For a long, peaceful moment, nobody says anything.

Then Ellie sighs, muffled into Dina’s shoulder. “Guys. Don't be mad but I gotta piss again.”

[kxsagi]

“𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧”

a/n: everyone say thank you, landon! he hurt me and now i wrote angst. i’ll never forgive his bitchass for cheating on liz (yes i’m still mad about it) and i pray that she heals fast and thoroughly 🙏

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, bachira meguru, ness alexis

itoshi rin

he doesn’t say he misses you. instead, he shows it by keeping everything the same. your mug is still by the sink. your shampoo still in the shower. 

he trains harder than ever, but there’s a hesitation in his eyes, like he’s searching for something beyond the net, like scoring without your "good luck" feels hollow. 

he deletes your contact but memorizes your number. blocks you, but checks your socials with a burner. his pride won’t let him reach out, but gosh, he wants you to notice he’s suffering. 

sometimes he thinks about bumping into you “by accident.” at a café. bookstore. anywhere. but he never goes because he’s scared you’ll already be with someone else. 

he dreams of you. and in those dreams, you always leave again. 

isagi yoichi

he blames himself. rewatches every conversation in his mind like game tape. where did i go wrong? where could i have passed better? loved better? 

he still talks about you like you're part of his life. "she loves that song." "she would’ve liked this." even though the room goes quiet after. 

he keeps every gift you gave him. your first silly drawing, the bracelet you made at some street fair. it’s tucked in his drawer like sacred things. 

you told him once he overthinks everything, so now, ironically, he overthinks that, too. did you mean it as a joke? were you serious? were you already halfway out the door? 

he wishes you’d just tell him you hate him. because silence is worse. silence is hope’s cruel cousin. 

itoshi sae

he lets you go with a poker face. you’d think he didn’t care. but it’s the first time in years he misses a penalty kick. 

he deletes your pictures. not because he doesn’t care, but because he does. too much. and seeing your smile in that yellow-tinted light makes his chest cave in. 

he scrolls through your old texts when he's drunk. replies to them like you're still there. never sends them. 

he never begs. never asks you to stay. but every time someone mentions your name, there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes, like grief dressed in quiet clothes. 

he used to be bored of everything. now, he’s just tired. especially of pretending you didn’t matter. 

kaiser michael

you were the first person to tell him he didn’t have to perform all the time. that you liked him even when he wasn’t loud, golden, brilliant. 

he didn’t believe you. not really. until after you left. now the silence around him feels unbearable, like a stage with no audience. 

he flirts more now. louder, emptier. it’s all performance, a desperate echo of who he used to be when you were around to bring him down to earth. 

he keeps expecting you to walk in, roll your eyes, say "you’re so dramatic." but you never do. 

sometimes, he talks to you when he’s alone. not the real you, the memory version. and she’s always a little kinder than he deserves. 

shidou ryusei

he doesn’t cry. he doesn’t talk about it. but suddenly, the fire in him feels more like self-destruction than passion. 

on the field, he’s a menace. fouls more. gets carded more. you were the only one who calmed him down, reminded him of softness. now there’s no balance. 

people call him reckless. a lunatic. but they don’t know he’s trying to feel something. anything. 

he won’t admit it, but your absence tastes like metal in his mouth. bitter. sharp. 

sometimes, he punches the wall and pretends it’s not because he remembered your birthday and realized he has nowhere to send the gift. 

mikage reo

he’s always had money, always had power. but losing you? it’s the first time he couldn’t buy his way out of pain. 

he tells himself you’ll come back. that it’s just a break. that if he levels up, scores more, shines harder, you’ll notice. 

goes to the places you loved together, always ordering your favorite drink and leaving it untouched. “just in case.” 

he practices apologies in the mirror, over and over. never sends them. because every version feels too small for what he broke. 

his smile is still perfect, still charming, but if you look too close, it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore. 

nagi seishiro

he doesn't understand why you're gone. he replays the breakup like a confusing side quest with no clear ending. 

sleeps way more than usual. not because he’s lazy, but because dreaming of you is easier than being awake without you. 

when he plays games now, he keeps losing. rage quits more often. "it's boring," he says. but it’s really because the person who used to sit beside him is missing. 

keeps your shirt. cuddles it like a plush. doesn’t say a word when reo comments on it. 

still texts you sometimes. “this meme reminded me of you.” “you’d laugh at this.” you never reply. he still sends them. 

karasu tabito

he jokes more than ever. laughs louder. flirts harder. but his humor has a sharpness to it now, like he’s constantly daring the world to notice he’s hurting. 

people say he's “the same as always,” but they don’t see him standing outside your apartment for 30 minutes just to walk away with a heavier heart. 

started journaling again. you told him once that writing helped with healing. he writes like you’ll read it one day. 

won’t admit it, but he plays dirtier now. more aggressive, less patient. “love made me soft,” he says. like it’s a curse. 

he misses your voice. not just your words. the sound of you saying his name like it meant something. 

bachira meguru

he paints you. over and over. sometimes with wings. sometimes with broken glass in your smile. always with love. 

still talks to his "monster" about you. "you think she hates me now?" "do you think i scared her off?" 

he’s still sunshine to everyone else, but when he's alone, the silence is suffocating. 

your absence changed his art. darker colors. messier strokes. people praise his “emotional evolution,” but he just misses being happy. 

he goes to the park where you first kissed and sits on the swing for hours. waiting. just in case you remember, too. 

ness alexis

he always said you made him feel seen, not just as a shadow to kaiser, but as his own person. now that you’re gone, he forgets how to exist without comparison. 

overcorrects. becomes louder, flashier, more dramatic. like if he’s impressive enough, you’ll regret leaving. 

still wears the cologne you bought him. even though it makes him nauseous with memories. 

he swears he’s over you. but the second someone mentions your name, his hands start to shake. 

keeps your photo as his lock screen. “aesthetic,” he says. “nostalgic,” he means. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[kawaiialeisha]

⚠️ WH SPOILERS

WELCOME HOME APRIL 12TH UPDATE ANALYSIS

This is my analysis on the new WH update with the help of many wonderful people in my server!! ^^

---

These are all in reference to the hidden Julie videos.

First video: Julie was attempting to get the entirety of Home (aka the neighbourhood) in bloom before homewarming. Julie came across a flower that hadn’t bloomed. She was trying to get it to bloom but it wasn’t talking to her nor blooming. Frank was not present while she was trying to make it bloom.

She leaves it be as Frank calls her over somewhere, promising to come back to make it bloom.

Second video: Julie seemed to have reserved that flower to show Frank and let him make it bloom with her help.

It's mentioned that rainbow monsters (like herself) have many responsibilities corresponding with nature. She references her family's motto, as if it's something to be proud of. Keep this in mind.

It's also worth noting that according to Julie, with enough positivity, the flowers will bloom by homewarming. So it seems these flowers can only bloom from happiness.

Julie stated that she can’t hear flowers that haven’t bloomed yet. Julie and Frank talk to the flower to try and get it to bloom, getting stumped. Julie attempted to solve it through her board game.

The two state:

Frank: “…No surprise chess manoeuvres! I know you’re not allowed to combine the Queen and the knight during chess, Julie! You can’t trick me again!”

Julie: “But pieces are just keeping each other company, Frank! It sounds like somebody’s just sore about losing the queen’s favourite horsey!”

I think Julie's last line means something more. A lot of these videos almost imply meanings of replacement or loss.

Third video: In the beginning of the video, Julie whispers in a serious tone “you’re still closed” twice before addressing it more clearly and happier.

She talks about how Barnaby and Howdy make fun of her a little, possibly discussing her insecurities. Julie also mentions in this video that she likes Frank the most, considering she met him first when she first came to the neighbourhood. She didn’t know anyone when she came here. She said she doesn’t exactly remember how her and Frank met, but she assumes it was when she was building her burrow. Frank fell into her tunnel. She whispers in a serious voice again to herself, “Was he mad? I don’t think he was. I think he said to me, "Are you new here? I’m new too, my name is Frank." I think he knew I was scared. He said a really corny joke to me, and I laughed.” She states she met Wally the same day, which is when she got her home. She also states she can’t say out long after dark, as they’re not supposed to be outside. The reasoning is unknown. Wally suddenly comes out of nowhere, saying in a slightly distorted tone, “Did all that really happen, Julie?” This might imply she forgot something important, which is brought up in the fifth video analysis.

Fourth Video:

Starting with the flowers POV, Julie says "it's still here" in a slightly distorted voice, referring to the flower. I used to think it was the flower talking, but it was actually Julie's inner thoughts/voices, as proven in the transcripts. It's strange that this flower's POV hears her thoughts, her negative ones too.

The POV cuts to a different one as Julie greets the flower normally: "Hello my possible petunia, it looks like you still haven't opened! Why is that?"

But then it cuts back to the flowers POV, Julie's voice getting serious again, asking, "What's wrong with you?" inside her head.

It cuts back to normal again, "I'm sorry, is it because I haven't been around as often? I promise it wasn't on purpose! I've been busy. I have a lot of responsibilities. I'm home's cheeriest neighbour!"

It's almost as if she's trying to be something of worth, to live up to her actual name. Did you catch that she didn't want to join the joyful sibling's band as a drummer? Maybe she didn't feel worthy enough, maybe she has insecurities, maybe she didn't fit in with that role, or maybe she had feelings that she shoved away to also maintain being home's cheeriest neighbour.

She begins talking about the 'Sweet Briar' play and says, "It's about a princess who falls asleep for a long time after a mean fairy puts a spell on her. Then her handsome prince comes to wake her up!" It cuts back to the flowers POV, saying inside her head, "If only it was that easy."

Again, another possible reference insecurities. Her thoughts start to be more prominent and reoccurring, getting more negative and worrisome.

Here she begins to lack self esteem, by saying she thinks she did alright and struggled a bit during the play. She also mentions how she liked letting someone else lead. She told the flower earlier in the 2nd video that she had a lot of responsibilities, so maybe it ties to that.

More signs of insecurities and spiralling from Julie. The way she fears and talks about her family's thoughts about her not being able to get a flower bloom makes me think they've possibly neglected her before? Or maybe she's avoidant so she can make a good example of herself, as she was hesitant to join her family's band.

Fifth video:

I think something happened to Julie at one point. I think it’s between her and home, maybe. (Considering I think home is trying to take control and isolate the neighbourhood from the darkness surrounding the edges of the map, as seen below)

The link to her fifth video has the words “tears”, “remembrance”, and “instability” in it. The instability part is very obvious within the video, but tears and remembrance mean something deeper I think. Tears and remembrance combined could mean a sad memory. In the video, Julie makes the excuse her family is here and she should go say hi before they leave home. She rushes over to the flower and thinks to herself, “you’re still here. After all this time. I spent so much time talking with you. I gave you everything I could.” She starts to cry in a way, then saying “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you want, I don’t understand what the problem is.” It then cuts to the flowers POV, now inside her head again, “Was that not enough? Do you want to get me into trouble? Why are you doing this to me? Was it because of the early spring? Are you mad at me for that? I don’t know why that happened, it’s not my fault! It’s not my fault! Please, please don’t do this to me! Frank is nearby, please I’m begging you, please bloom before anyone sees you. Please bloom, please, please-“

She is now treating this flower differently compared to the first video. She's almost threatening this flower in a way, believing it will somehow get her into trouble. Almost like... something is after her.

When in the first video, it seems she had stumbled upon it for the first time, keen to make it bloom. With positivity. But all this flower is consuming are her negative thoughts.

It cuts back to a different POV where Frank is looking for her. She cusses to herself since Frank has found her. She panics, trying to not let him see the flower. She turns to the flower to tell it one last message. "You won’t be around for much longer- You’ll go away by Homewarming- I’ll never see you again, no one will, no one will ever know you were here- and then I’ll be free- I’m as good as I ever was- I’m Julie Joyful!-" It seems as if she’s insecure, incapable of being worthy. Maybe it's even an identity crisis too, as some have speculated. It also seems as if there’s been a significant event that happened in the past that she can’t remember properly. Or perhaps, a consequence. She also seems to be getting a consequence in the near future if this flower gets her in trouble somehow.

---

Other thoughts with the information we know now:

Credits to @gho-zzy

Call-back to video three, remember how Wally was there? I believe he's been listening through the flower. I mean, these styles of hidden videos ALWAYS have Wally in there at least somewhere. Especially in his POV. So, he must've taken this flower's POV somehow. It might be the reason why it wasn't blooming either.

Another call-back to this image here:

You can also see footsteps leading into the forest. Perhaps this is where she goes to see the flower?

ANYWAY!! I will update this as things become available again, since the 5th video is currently down.

[prlssprfctn]

AU, where Priest!Jason Todd keeps receiving random quests from the alternative universe, who are very, very persistent on getting his advice.

At some point, Jason stops getting surprised by the absolute unexplainable events in his hometown. He died and came back — so, what are some guests from the other realities for him? Absolutely nothing. He already helped that girl once, Traci. She also appeared out of nowhere.

And Jason... well, Father Jason is all about helping people, not asking questions.

That's why, when he sees a strange flash of light outside the church and hears heavy steps, coming closer to the confessional, he makes sure not to be too curious. Curiousity leads people to wrong paths sometimes.

'Jason?' The low, rumbling voice asks.

It reminds him of Thomas Wayne's a little but softer.

Thomas is not necessarily his friend, but they smoke sometimes together since Jason once accidentally found bleeding out Batman at the stairs leading to his church. He is a nice man.

'You shall call me Father Todd,' Jason fixes the guest methodically. 'How can I help you, my child?'

The man lets out a soft, amused laughter, and Jason hears him dragging his heavy body inside the booth before plopping on the cold, wooden seat.

'I am not here to confess,' the man warns. 'But I might need an advice.'

'An ask for help is also a confession in a way; sometimes, a bolder one,' Jason replies. 'I will do my best to guide you, my child. Tell me more about the issue you are facing.'

'I... I have a son,' the man starts slowly. 'I hurt him a lot in the past. And I don't know how to fix this.'

Jason hums, encouraging him to continue. They talk for the rest of the night. The mysterious guest leaves pleased.

In a week after that, another guest drops by. This time, it is a young man who keeps tapping his feet nervously and persistently cracks jokes straight until Jason gently tells him to lay on him all his burdens. This makes him snap and break down crying. Richard — or so he calls himself — never asks for advice, but he confesses in all things he had done; and then for things he didn't. Jason hears him out, reassuring that half of those wasn't even his fault, and they pray together that night through the thin wall dividing them. Richard tells him that it was a while he felt himself this free before leaving. Jason never hears from him again.

A seemingly young boy visits next. He is amused for the most of the time, but Jason still patiently talks him through the casualties of ceremonies like this, deciding not to get mad at a teenager — he was no better at that age. Somewhere in between long pauses and questions, Timothy suddenly starts talking quietly about his parents; about how they were religious, but he never understood their faith. Not really.

He says he misses him, and he wishes he could turn time back to agree on following his mom in the church in these rare days they were not working. They sit together for a while, and Jason allows him to reminisce about his parents. Tim leaves, thanking him for being heard.

Jason accepts a few more strange quests. A kid with the vocabulary of an ancient creature that admits that he is not even Christian — Jason still offers him an ear telling him it doesn’t matter; not when a child of God needs advice — a silent girl that speaks in short sentences and asks how to get rid of regret and guilt following her around for years, and then, a total opposite one: a blabbering and giggling girl that ends up talking with him about her mom. He swears, at some point Duke, the kid from Narrows that he has over with his family on Sundays, visits him too; just, somehow, an older one. Even that doesn't cause Father Todd to ask questions.

...Not until someone enters the confessional with a strange, animal-like cautiousness.

'So, you are the one they visit all the time, huh?' The stranger comments, his voice... his voice surprisingly familiar. 'Father Todd.'

If there is a slight mocking intonation in the low voice, then Jason prefers to ignore it.

'That would be me, yes. How can I help you, my child?'

'Well, well, Father Todd... Riddle me this...'

The more the unknown boy speaks, the more nauseous Jason feels. He knows this story; he remembers finding Catherine dead, he remembers stealing tires — and even though the boy by the other side found a family, while he didn’t, the death and reborn he speaks about, is still something Jason relates to.

For the first time since he started to get strange visitors, Jason indulges himself — he allows curiosity to take over.

The visitor is in the middle of casually, almost intentionally so, retelling how he woke up in the casket, when Jason walks out of his part of booth, and unceremoniously opens the opposite side of it, facing a boy in the red armour. He hugs a big, intimidating helmet, and when their eyes meet, Jason freezes, despite knowing an answer all along.

It is him. Of course, it is him.

'Jesus fucking Christ, ruining the very little privacy this place has, in our Catholic house?' The other Jason mocks him, leaning slightly forward. 'I expected more from us. I am hurt.'

Father Todd just sighs.

Nothing could ever prepare him for needing to... accept a confession from himself. Yet, he is here, staring at the scruffy youth with a wolf-like smile who is so obviously lost behind all these fake bravado that it hurts.

'Behave,' he purses lips in a thin line before closing the door in his face again.

He doesn't need to see to know that a surprised expression touched his sharp features.

Jason makes his way back to his side of confessional, and clears up his throat again.

'I apologise. Please, you shall resume your story.'

The other Jason is silent for a while. He thinks the boy might leave — they had it in themselves, after all; leaving when being met with an unexpected touch of gentleness from others, instead of rage — but then, he doesn't.

His voice lacks all mockery and amusement when he speaks up again, the words lacing in a tale of sorrow and regrets.

And Father Todd... answers, of course. He is not here to ask questions, after all. He is all about helping people.

And who, if not Jason Todd, knows that there is no one but higher forces and themselves, who can help them through their toughest times?

[shouts-into-the-void]

Montresor caring about Will didn't come out of nowhere, Lenore was just mad: a biased completely unbiased post

The thing we need to remember as a rule is that Montresor's default personality is rude and antagonistic even when he's not actively trying to be an aggressor, which means you have to look at what he means rather than necessarily the things he says. He's a clear victim of abuse, who reacts to feelings trapped, cornered, threatened, panicked, or humiliated by lashing out. From what I have gathered, it seems like his mother may have been the type of person who was nice one minute, then became abusive at the drop of a hat, and/or acted loving while claiming she "had to do this for his own good", and he was clearly raised in a very strict religious environment where he didnt have a lot of control/was punished for things he couldnt help. As a reaction, Montresor tries to force an aggressive response out of anyone he feels threatened by, because at least then it's predictable and he feels in control. Okay, great, Montresor analysis out of the way, moving on.

Our first real look at Will and Montresor as a unit is when the clusterfucks (side note: I've seen a lot of people calling them the acoleets now? Far less funny, absolutely not) are discussing their spectres. During this conversation, Montresor is actually hyping Will up, and even when he agrees with Ada that is sounds useless, he makes sure to assure him that it "looks really cool though."

We only really see Montresor become outright violent and dangerous once it's revealed that only one person can win a new life. We see him actively panic about it, and while we don't really get a lot more context for him yelling at Will in the moment, I think its relevant that this is the moment when he starts treating Will less nicely, because now it's a competition and everyone else is potentially out to get him. Hell, he even immediately begins joking around with Will after telling him to shut up, so it's clear that he's acting out of stress and fear immediately after the revelation.

The interaction that immediately follows this is the incident with Morella and Ada, and I find it notable that Montresor goes out of his way to include Will. (when he makes sure to let you get your turn humiliating a woman to prove her loyalty to the group #romantic 🤡)

Later, during the Spectre vs. Students lesson, when Berenice bites Will and he asks for help, Montresor immediately tells her to leave him alone. While he seems mildly annoyed with Will the whole time (kind of understandably, because Will keeps screwing up the plan) he only says anything particularly horrible after Berenice slashes him across the face with her knife, which clearly pisses him off in general. We see him letting Will nap on his shoulder afterwards, which isn't super important I just think it's cute.

Montresor clearly sees them as a unit, as he still involved Will with the plan despite Will messing up the previous night with Duke and stops Will from helping Annabel with Ada despite not having a real reason to do so by saying "We'll sit this one out." Like it should have gone without saying that if he's not doing it, Will isn't either. Then the next day, the fact that Montresor comes to get Will specifically so they can walk to breakfast together? Knows what his toothbrush looks like and goes out of his way to give it back? The little flick on the forehead when he calls him a churchmouse? That he picks up on Will's distress and immediately goes to collect Ada to save him? I see you, fake-ass idgafer.

Which brings me to my next point, which is that it is Lenore on her enraged, vengeful tirade who claims that Montresor hates Will. She claims it's due to his behavior towards Will when he came to get him, but I think its pretty clear she only says it to upset Will. And Will can't think of anything nice Montresor's ever done for him because he's stressed, thinks he's about to get shot, and his self-confidence is super low. He even addresses the fact later that Montresor goes out of his way to save him all the time.

I also think now is a good time to point out that Montresor only seems to physically hurt Will in any significant way when he's been having a flashback. His expression when he comes out of his death flashback to find himself attacking Will is shocked, and while he doesn't apologize, his response does come across as apologetic. He has a similar expression when he wakes up from Ada's vision choking Will, only he looks incredibly panicked that time because he'd done actual damage. The expression on his face when Lenore points out what he's done is pained. I think this runs back to Montresor telling Will not to touch him, I'm pretty sure part of his trauma revolves around physical touch and when he's having an episode of PTSD/not fully aware of his surroundings he lashes out instinctively at the person touching him, which unfortunately means Will, who is a very physically affectionate person (man has 13 siblings and it shows.) Which is unfortunate, because I think Montresor also seems to be a very tactile person, and he actually goes out of his way to be touching Will a lot.

Another interesting thing? Montresor only ever addresses Will by name, which is very significant with context. The nicknames Montresor gives people are meant to mock them, so by only using Will's name it subtlely signals that he holds him in higher respect (or at least in more genuine regard) than the others. In Will's flashback, Sally–someone who went to school with him and was in all the same classes–doesn't remember his name, only that he's one of many Wilson siblings. So for Montresor, who can't even remember his "ace in the hole" and current fling's name, to be constantly making it a point to say he knows who Will is, is a great indicator of his actual feelings. By contrast, Will calls Montresor "Monty" exclusively, the only nickname he receives that is genuinely affectionate and something he never attempts to make him stop calling him.

Which pretty much brings us back to the events of the current episodes, which I've already talked about the significance of in another post. I know this is probably insanely biased for multiple reasons and im sure theres a bunch of little tidbits I've forgotten , but do with it what you will.

[elswhore]

azzi out of nowhere showing her possesive side.

warning : cussing, suggestive.

You and azzi have been in a relationship for 3 years, Having a healthy relationship, azzi had always been your sweet girlfriend. she treats you like a whole queen granting you affection and pure love.

you have never seen her get mad at you at a high point, and if she was mad at you, she explains what made her mad hoping for a sweet understanding.

But it startled you when she started acting weird, for you it seemed weird becausw you have never seen her like this. after a party with your friends, azzi would usually have her arms around your waist asking how your feeling and if you enjoyed the party. but this time she was for more ahead not taking a glance at you while the both of you headed to her car.

it was painful because the awful silence in the car filled the both of you, initiating a conversation with her asking subtle question just leads head to short responses such as "hm" "yeah" "k" and a fucking nod.

what you didn't know is azzi's jealousy has been simmering all night and now it was boiling over, being avoidant because she dont want any fight between the two of you decided to stay quiet, but damn it was testing her patience.

the way paige was being painfully close to you while your sitting infront of azzi face to face, the way paige would playfully squeeze your ass a 'joke' azzi didn't really take that funny at all.

you have noticed the way azzi's jaw would clench glancing to her side and huffing, it was so obvious but you payed no mind to it.

the silence becoming to overwhelming for the both you, azzi finally opened her mouth and sighed. "what was that, earlier?" she spat her eye steady on the road.

"what are you talking about?" you asked honestly curios and she rolled her eyes.

"looking like a whore next to paige?" she state sarcastically voice rasp, your taken back by the comment aside it was the first time you have heard this from her.

"what?" your not sure if what you heard is right and she took a quick glance your way.

"why would you fucking let her touch you like that?" she glared at you and swerved the car near an empty side walk gritting her teeth.

"she touch you that good?" she ask again her stare completely making you shiver.

"bet your imagining her fucking you right now" she clicked her tounge smirking, you stayed silent dumbfounded.

"imaging so good that you cant talk? fucking answer me." her hand reaches your chin gripping you.

"azzi.." you called out and stunned no words able to come out your mouth.

"yeah? am i right princess?" she muttured jaw clenching "no azzi.." her current demeanor is making certain thought race, shamefully your turned on right now.

she noticed the way you clasp your thighs together and she poked her tounge to the side of her cheeks chuckling. "your turned on?" she shaked her head amused and she let go of your jaw turning on the engine.

"just wait till we get home." was the last thing was said to you.

TAGLIST @janaelalfysloml @gabbyygoo @brenwritesss @addl0vee @sharksmom69 @bellaprintz25 @leiyanzyves @belsouza21 @apbueckers @loviingsunflower @luldejamleer @simpf0rriddle08 @paige05bby @scarrr5 @shootingstarrrrr @rosemariiaa @leslienjazzy @liviyy @weluvwbb @vicsstufff @taylynbueckers44 @yourmom-25s-blog @d7dream @paigesbasketball @sevikasleftbicep @azzisbueckers @bribadoobeee @uwupaige

[mistymisfit]

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"

[hvnsinureyes]

one random bf hc you have for your fav pookies go!

warnings | mainly fluff, implied sex in anthony’s part but nothing descriptive.

author’s note | added paige bc i love her that’s my bbg!! these hcs r probably rlly random but idc <3 if i forgot someone tho sorry i’m sleepy :(

paige bueckers |

loves to leave her stuff around your place. it’s not that she’s worried that you’re bringing other ppl around and wants to scare them away, but she lovess the thought of her being around even when she’s really not. whenever she’s on away games, she knows you won’t forget about her because her toothbrush is on the counter of your sink, her fav hoodie on ur bed, uconn merch scattered around your apartment, that damn ipad charging somewhere!! and don’t get her started with those polaroids. she’ll take 50 of pictures and play hide n seek with them. you found one in your fridge once. trust and believe she’s going nowhere. you like it that way anyways.

wemby |

i saw a pic on pinterest talking abt him being an npc and lowkey, i can imagine him hitting this 🧍🏽‍♂️pose like a npc all the time. you could literally be in the bathroom, calmly doing ur makeup and he comes in, standing straight while staring down at you. no words spoken, just watching. considering he’s 7’3, it’s a bit more scary because this random french guy is basically looming over you without saying a word?? when really, he’s admiring you and thinking, “wow my gf is so pretty 🥰 i love her so much!”

luka doncic |

luka still gets shy and blushes a lot around you— you could be married to him for 10 years straight and somehow, his face still flushes bright red when you tease him, call him handsome or some random petname, hold his hand, kiss him, etc. or when ever you appear, he gets all smiley, all 32 and gums showing mind you…if you call him out on it, he’ll brush it off and act like it’s nothing. it’s not. he’s really whipped btw.

jared mccain |

lowkey a secret therapist?? he is so in tune w/ ur emotions and feelings that it confuses you sometimes. you’ll be unaware you’re acting different— maybe you place a bottle of water down harder than usual and jared’s like, “mhm, yeah, you’re having a bad day aren’t you?” how does he always know?? that’s a secret he’ll never tell *wink wink*, but anyways, he gives the best advice. he’ll sit you down, bring a bunch of blankets, snacks, hugs, and hits you with that “so what happened today? how did that make you feel? should we try some breathing exercises?” if you’re looking for comfort or want to rant instead, he’s prepared for that as well. now if you want him to be mad with you? say less cuz he’s ready to cuss somebody out too!

steph curry |

great photographer, but gives superr facebook mom vibes. if you’re on vacation and you ask him to snap a pic of you, he’s making sure he gets a good background set up, makes you do 50 different poses, and says “just like that sweetie! remember to smile! now look off into the distance! justtt like that, yep!” you can complain all you want, but steph will make sure this camera captures your all ur beauty! btw he also posts it everywhere. seriously, even in a gc with his friends, he’ll show u off all proud like, “that’s my girl y’all!! always looking good!!”

jimmy butler |

thinks he's the funniest person on earth (he is but don't tell him that bc his ego will inflate too much.) dies laughing after he says something like, "that's what she said" or a random deez nuts joke. it's never that funny but the way jimmy reacts after saying it makes it funnier than it really is. jimmy gets so proud of himself the second he makes you laugh— genuinely starts considering becoming a stand up comedian... sure, babe!

nikola jokic |

the most helpful person ever, but acts like he doesn’t want to help if that makes sense?? you’ll ask him to bring you a cup of water and he’s like, "okay... 😐" but will bring back a full cup with the right amount of ice and a slice of lemon. if you offer to do it yourself instead, he is so quick to say no!! deep down, he loves helping you in whatever way he can. so absolutely not, don’t even think about lifting a single finger. never tries to make you feel bad about it, he's just a lil sassy.

anthony edwards |

always wants a kiss!! he will literally hold you at gunpoint (not literally lmfao) until you give him one. it’s that serious. you could be late for an appointment, damn near rushing out the door, and he’ll stop you saying, “damn i can’t get no kiss goodbye? c’mere ma,” then kisses you like it’s his last day on earth. do not give in!! next thing you know, you’re making out and he’s about to carry you back to bed. go ahead and reschedule, because you’re gonna be late. even if he says, “just 5 minutes, i promise.”

austin reaves |

austin does not play about his playlists!! he has one for when he’s feeling sad, feeling good, warmup playlist, car playlist, and the one he shares with you. honestly, he’s probably more of a rock, country, and rap guy. if you have completely different taste in music than him, at first he would tolerate listening to it. now? it doesn’t matter if it’s kpop, charli xcx, or taylor swift— he’s singing along with you! can he actually sing? absolutely not, but with his country accent, it’s the cutest thing ever. as long as you ignore his voice cracks.

jj redick |

i saw a vid about how he’s a huge lego nerd and i cannot stop thinking about it!! i’m sure y’all would have lego date nights— dinner with a glass of wine while you build ridiculously intricate lego sets together. sometimes, you’ll even have competitions to see who can finish a set first (somehow he wins every time??). i feel like he’s one of those really talented people who can make anything out of random legos, so he’ll probably build a bouquet of flowers or your favorite character. a little wonky looking maybe, but it means so much because it’s from him. i know in my heart y’all have tiny lego versions of yourselves. he’ll make it into a keychain, you have jj’s and jj has yours, so that you guys are always together even when you’re apart.

[kuntprodukt]

(NANO)NITWIT

Damnation Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CONSENSUAL SEX, SMUT, female reader, suicidal thoughts, reader feels like shit and in general not well, hurt no comfort i think, age gap, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dacryphilia, light degradation, no orgasm for reader.

Summary: You don’t know what you missed in your forming years, maybe there was a book of written rules everyone has learned by heart and you missed that opportunity. Unlucky. Even worse when the person in front of you looks like he is supposed to be a porn star, while you were born under the unlucky star.

notes: this may be a little bit personal and all so yea..also thank you to Grey and Mads that they tolerated my tweaking over some parts…and two for a pic :3.I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs @writingwisterias @swordtosleeve

You are fucked.

So fucked in an irreparable way.

You wish a gun would be an option. It should be so easy, so simple - boom! And you’d be outta here. No one would care, even if you become a bug one day - no one would have noticed anyway, and there would be no thought to check your room. Samsa had it easier, even briefly, no one would spend their time to get rid of you. At the same time, you can’t bring yourself to end this all, the most ethical way is to live and wait for something. People die, you will too. Cowardly hiding yourself, afraid to appear in front of others like they will notice your cowardice, lack of capacity to do the favor. There is a certainty that life would end by being alone and miserable.

The sentiment isn’t just something that appeared in your head out of nowhere, you wished it was like that cause the glimpse of disappointment in your mother’s eyes isn’t the glow you have ever wanted to see. Silently calling you a piece of trash, maybe she is more straightforward with her friends - after all, you don’t interact much anymore. Never have you expected to be able to read someone’s thoughts from the face alone. So to stay away, locked from her sight is the right choice. There are no mirrors to face the mess you are.

And you are only in your 20s, they shouldn’t suck like that.

Your mom was right, actually. You won’t admit that because she believes moms are always right. After a certain point, aging is a burden on the shoulders. There is an invisible hand, not of the market, but of the big-big responsibility that comes with the age, it pushes you down like you are a dumb dog and you can’t hide from the shame. Feels odd, wrong, those animals are much smarter than you. And loved.

And partially, you are unlucky, at least you consider yourself one - while failing at every aspect of your life, this feeling got even deeper into your skin when your mom started bringing in her boyfriend. Attractive. Charismatic. Sexy. And god, you probably drilled holes into him.

Even worse, seeing her so happy and having something you can’t make your body fill with dread - this should be you.

You don’t like him.

Because he should be yours. In another life maybe, when being active and talking to someone isn’t an impossible task. Even though, this man is so insufferable to be around, at least you didn’t expect him to be one. Corny, dumb jokes. So unfunny, they want you to kill yourself whenever you catch the corners of your lips tug up. And he is really handsy, but the worst of them all - he doesn’t always ignore your existence too.

Leon. That was his name, he seemed a proper man, too normal, trying to be fun and charismatic - to get into your mom’s pants. Not yours. If someone asked your opinion, his jokes were lame as much as he is, but his handsome and hot face was compensating for his… whatever he is. And money. Rolex doesn’t grow on the trees, Ducati neither. You wouldn’t have minded his existence if he didn’t try to introduce himself in your life, feels like he is pitying you. You can see it in his blue eyes, that glimpse of pity every time he catches you out of your room (late at night). Too late in your life, too late that there is no place for him.

In all honesty. You don’t like him, but god, fuck, you like him too much for your own good.

He is too simple for his own sake. His smell doesn’t invade every corner of the apartment and he isn’t yours. Leon is the type of a man you’d find in most watched porn, highlight videos on the main page with cute, dumb, young girls clinging to his side, calling him daddy and worshiping his cock to the point someone may copy and paste these girls. Cliche, sexy cliche. There is a certain alluring trait in that, for you he is something unobtainable. Would he look at you disgustingly if you tried to touch him? If you tell him how your fingers find their way to your pussy every time? Inwardly you thanked god on your knees for people not being able to read your mind.

Also, it weirdly itches your brain. Like a bug bite to scratch.

And your mom isn’t the best woman out here, pissy over little things, always at the brink of bursting out, cause she knows better. Even better than a government agent. Something is not right and everyone on the street will be hearing that. Leon is not the type to involve himself deeply in arguments, his job fucks his brains enough, so it is natural to learn to ignore shit thrown at him. Like second nature and he can let off steam in other ways anyway.

Leon is in your room, you thought he left the house and was on one of the many business trips. To be honest, a man can’t have so many of them, probably cheating with a much more pleasant woman than your mom. Not with you. At the same time, a relief and not.

“Eh…?” You didn’t catch his words. Your gaze darted around his face, but never lingering on one spot - avoiding his blue eyes. Blue eyes are scary, intimidating - they drill into everyone’s souls and look lifeless.

But he is so pretty.

Focus. Why is he in your room?

Per se it is hard to speak with someone else, you don’t know what you missed in your forming years, maybe there was a book of written rules everyone has learned by heart and you missed that opportunity. Unlucky. Even worse when the person in front of you looks like he is supposed to be a porn star. A man with a big chest and these features are enough to make your knees weak. He has those shoulders you have only seen on Instagram models. Or in porn. Always legs placed on them.

“A gift” he repeats, pointing with his head to the little bag he put on your bed. Slowly stepping closer and sitting down. The bed dips slightly, making your body tense. “I brought you a gift.”

A gift. Did he buy it? If you were a dog, your ears would be perked up and your tail swishing in excitement, but maybe, unfortunately for you, there is no need for them - your expression shows whatever is on your mind. You didn’t notice how his eyes were still drilling into your frame, like a heavy weight on your shoulders. He expects something.

Your fingers reach for the bag or try to cause the attempt to be cut by the slap on your hand.

“Atta”Leon clears his throat, the low sound pulls you out of focus on the bag and the images of a possible gift. Fuck, he is still here. “What you should say?” He presses, his own voice is low, with a lilt of irritation slipping through - sounds rich and hot, like a good whiskey would taste.

Right, being thankful, AND respectful - whatever your mom has taught you. Even though you suck at talking it feels like even such a simple task is awkward and would be a pitiful attempt to appear normal.

“… Thank you” Not daring to look into his face. Hard. Your words come out of your mouth quietly, feel foreign too. Speaking always feels alien.

He cradles your face, not having another way but to meet his eyes. So close and filling your senses to the point you just freeze. There is a clear smell of alcohol, maybe whiskey. His fingers are rough contrasting with the subtle tenderness of his grip. The bed cracks a little bit louder this time and you realize he is looming over you. And you tense, instinctively your hands come up to try to push him away.

“Shhh, shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart” his thumb strokes softly your cheek, keeping you aware of how close he is. Too close, you can count every curve of his lashes, a scar on his cheek. His lips. They look kissable, a little bit dry today. Your mom said men shouldn’t use lip balm, it makes them gay. You don’t think that’s the case.

Your breathing hitches deep in your lungs, it feels like he is going to kiss you. Or not? You can’t bring yourself to move away when his hand firmly touches your waist, gripping it so securely before moving lower, to rest on your thigh - he explores your body like a map. Is that a dream? What should you do? Everything feels like it doesn’t happen to you, like a bad movie and you are just the watcher. Embarrassingly, your clit throbs with the need to be touched.

“Will you help me, mm?” Leon asks quietly and you exhale. Without too many thoughts, you nod. Finally, fewer thoughts - less mangy sensations. “A favor for a favor.”

You are unsure. You are never sure actually. 20s and a virgin, hopeless one. Since forever your mind stopped creating unrealistic expectations of the possible scenario of losing your virginity, still… you imagined this differently.

“Sure everyone who has touched you doesn’t know shit” Leon speaks in a honey-like voice buttering you to give in. His hand squeezes your thigh, leaving a big void in your brain.

Not like you are going to deny him cause words don’t come out, they never do, your mouth is so useless cause all it can do is just show a meek half-smile and not protest. Leon seems to catch on that quickly. In chaste kisses his lips are hot and he presses them against your cheeks just to slowly lower to the angle of your jaw. But there is nothing behind that, no affection or love you’ve seen in movies or read in books. He kisses your skin disinterested, in a lazy way to feign a desire to please you. Like he needs you, maybe deep down that’s true, cause it’d be so much easier to catch a girl for a night in the bar. Or to pay for sex.

Leon doesn’t care, that’s too many thoughts to focus on, too many worries. The only thing he is after is his pleasure, whatever you get off of isn’t something he considered. Your skin is soft underneath his lips, that’s inviting. Its softness is exciting, he wants to touch you even more and squeeze you like a plush toy. Still, avoiding your lips like the plague you stay unmoved, letting him spread your legs apart while keeping a firm grip on your chin - so your gaze wouldn’t get away, he needs you to face him for now.

His blue eyes wander around your face briefly, searching for something - maybe consent, or similar to that. But all he can see is an insecure mess, trying to hide how much his attention is fluttering, while your pupils are wide - he can see his reflection there too. And this burns even more the irrevocable desire in his body, hardening painfully his cock in the jeans. The fly isn’t even zipped, still, it doesn’t remove uncomfortable straining. So pent up. He needs to let steam off, he needs to fuck someone who isn’t going to do the same with his brains after that.

To remove your shorts is easy, underwear too, his gaze abandons your face to focus on important matters - your pussy, to let off this frustration, to fuck finally. You are so easy, he can move you around or touch you without any squeak from you, feeding on his own selfish desires and delusions.

Something is not right. It is disappointing. Almost hurting his ego, men are fragile creatures after all. You are not wet, well, you are, but not wet enough to be considered ready for his cock. This isn’t a big deal, a spit of saliva and quick thrust is enough. Still, a girl like you should be grateful for even quick kisses and a touch from him. And you seem to be grateful, he can see this from your eyes and tensed expression - still not enough. The right girl would kiss the floor he walked, worship him, and treat him well. You are a little bit confused, but nothing a quick sex can fix, right?

He pins you against the mattress. In no time adjust your legs, pulling them to your chest. His hand pushes your head to the side to not see your face, not like it would be on his sight anyway, he is focused on other things - not on you, nor your pleasure. Your legs twitched as soon as he spat down on your pussy, the weird feeling of his saliva clinging to your lips - the difference between temperatures, how it is colder than your skin. Easy and free, it would be useless to waste lube and any time on you. His free hand grips your hip tightly, angling it to finally plunge his cock into your hole.

It is a quick thrust, no adjustment, no slow buildup - nothing. Not giving enough time to realize the contact of his tip with your hole - his cock fills you up intoxicatingly, to the point your head becomes dizzy, and your body tenses around him, clenching tightly in a vice-like grip.

“That’s a good girl, good puppy” He breathes out, giving a sharp thrust to see your face twists. Filling you to the hilt, the tip of his cock kisses your uterus and every possible trashing or worm out of this will lead only to his pleasure - a light shift of his hips and his cock grinds against your cervix. Your legs twitch, almost arching from the weirdest sensations - squirming pleasure mixed with pain, if someone asked you to describe it’d be similar to a billion butterflies fluttering in your womb as your body becomes not yours, too weak for sweet right buttons to press. Too bad you don’t miss his own expressions: how his eyes roll, enjoying how good your pussy spasms around him. Like it was made for him. For his cock.

He stretches your walls quickly, in a way you bite your lip so hard - the taste of iron mixes with the suffocating sensation, confusing you and almost worsening your panic, thinking it may be just a nosebleed. Or you are bleeding, it feels like you are being torn apart and you can not move. Your hole clenches tightly, searching for a little time to adjust, slow pull out of his cock and you can feel every one of his veins dragging against your walls. The little resistance would worsen this, you aren’t sure you should fight, but something tells you - you deserve this.

Tears well up easily in your eyes, not even noticing the sudden wetness on your cheeks, too focused on his dick inside you.

He drags it out slowly now until only the tip remains inside you - still uncomfortably stretching. There is something twisted in the way it pleases him to see how your hole tries to adjust around him. How it clings to every unevenness of his dick, your pussy twitches and pulses at every little touch, how it leaves wet trails and… blood?

“Ohh. Your first or not used to real man, huh?”He sighs with wider eyes, there is no surprise, just amusement. Looking down at his cock, the light traces of blood on his skin. You are a virgin, or he just tore you cause you were unprepared. Not like he cared, not his mess to clean. “Too bad I am not stopping”

Not really expecting an answer from you, but not to hear your squeaks or sobs anymore, his hand creeps to rest on your mouth. He shoves his cock back and the pain returns. Not as overwhelming as it was before, still in a weird way. You liked the thought of being degraded, to be slapped, and treated the same as those girls in porn. It scratches the feeling of unworthiness so well. So right too, like your spot is to be mistreated without any other options. But now, you don’t know how to even deal with this, it is hard to even try to make it feel good - you don’t have any idea how.

Leon fucks you as he wants, deep and selfishly, not giving too much time to breathe in. This is first, this is different, this is everything you didn’t expect it to be. And he wouldn’t let you have any other way anyway - but hey, it makes him feel good, no? The thought appears like a light bulb, pulsing in your head just to slightly ease your worries. Again, using dumb, stupid, and useless you, your body, makes him feel good.

You make him feel good.

“Yea, that’s a good fucking face, babe” Leon grunts again, addicting desire creeps up in his chest as you weakly sob into his hand. Tears are sexy, no matter the reason behind them - too rough? Women like rough anyway. Too good? Of course, he knows his ways with women. Bad? You don’t know shit, an invalid opinion.

“Pretty when you cry, keep that face on” he is so close now to you, leaning over and his fingers dip into your cheeks to force your gaze to meet his. To see better your ruined and tearful face. His warm tongue presses against your cheek and any trails of your rolling tears disappear under his mouth - his cock pulses inside you at the taste of your tears. A grain of saltiness. And nothing. This is sexy, this is addicting and he is the reason for these pretty wet eyes.

You twitch with a loud gasp, muffled under his hand. He is so close, that is impossible to ignore how rough and messy his thrusts become. Deeply burying himself into your pussy, and your body isn’t yours anymore. The way it clenches around him, enticing a groan over you, like an addict getting that sweet shot of heroin. His cock twitches, you can feel it even better now, like your bodies become one at this point. You aren’t sure if there isn’t a thin layer of tissue, but it wouldn’t be surprising to get a visible outline of his cock.

You try to reach for your clit, to be selfish for once to end up useless again. Leon doesn’t care, as his weight presses on your body to hit the deeper angle, and your attempt is thrown out of the window. This is a fuzzy feeling, humiliating in its nature, as the sudden action electrifies your body with pleasure and guilt. Pleasure cause his dick hits soo well your spongy spot, he fits sooo well in your pussy, knowing every right spot to hit to twist your expression and guilty cause you shouldn’t feel pleasure. Overwhelming, too much happens - you can’t even focus on yourself for once. He is licking away your tears. Leon is so sweet, affectionate and caring, oh my god! - one of a billion thoughts flooded in your brain, just to be hit out of your head after a rough thrust. Leon is so sweet and so thoughtful. He likes you, right?

Keeping the pace steady as the only sound fills your room is the skin-slapping one, every time his hips connect with yours - his balls slap your ass. And you arch into him, involuntarily trying to grasp a little bit of pleasure from this situation - the little friction between your clit and his happy trail every time his hips slam, even briefly sending a jolt through your body.

“Fuck… take it” Leon groans, breathing out heavily and letting it brush against your skin. He is overwhelmingly everywhere: inside your pussy, hitting your womb with every deep thrust, his weight presses on you while your eye contact with him remains forced, drilling holes in your face now. “your dumb wet face… keep it, gonna cum”

Not like you can keep your tears in, they keep coming, persisting your pathetic image in his eyes. You are so messy for him, with wet trails of his saliva mixed with your tears and with a clear intent to let him take whatever he wants from you. The sight tightens his balls as orgasm approaches like a quick tidal wave, his cock buries deep inside with the last slam. It twitches inside you, keeping you full, not only with his dick, but now his warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, his mind is blank - focused on how his cock pumped rope after rope inside you. First penetration, first creampie, he is first everything.

Leon slowly pulls out of you, a loud squelching sound accompanied by a weak whimper from you - there is a silence between you both, only heavy breathing. Light cracks as the surface of the bed becomes even - Leon isn’t next to you anymore, and neither he is going to let you get your high. Too much work. Less likely it is even possible, it felt foreign, like a knife in the old wound, rummaging in it only to leave a black scar to bleed.

His hand ruffles your hair as a last act of whatever happened, maybe it is affection or maybe he feels guilty to intrude your little world with his selfish desire. You wish it is both, to believe that someone wanted you finally even just to let off the steam, just to use you. Action so sweet and unexpected, it pulls you back, more aware of chills seeping into your bones as the remains heat of his body withdrew from you, like a wave washing off the footsteps on the sand - it may be a false memory, a dream of something that didn’t happened.

And just to leave you alone, all lonely to clean the mess he caused. Not like you are going to complain; there is no energy or right to do that. You cried it out, even anything similar to tears can’t get out anymore.

Your eyes hurt from it, and tears eat every moist spot leaving them dry. So strange, how can tears dry so easily in your eyes? Feels like sand was thrown in your face. Your trembling hands try to open the bag, it should be something nice - not every day you get a gift. A dreadful and sinking feeling fills your stomach at the sight of it being empty. The inside is empty. There is nothing. No gift.

And you feel empty too, maybe emptier than the giftless bag without him here.

[puriiinz]

POSTED | smau abby a.

I; SWEET & EASY

a/n: this was ass but trust me the remaining chapters r bomb

contains: cursing, sarcasm/mean jokes

masterlist | next

##FROM! YN

as usual, dina made me get ready in a few minutes. she, sadly, doesn't have the tendency to let me know an hour earlier if we're hanging out- or if they're dragging me along to wherever they're going that day. don't get me wrong, i love her with my whole heart but let a girl get ready without a rush please.

as i was locking my door i heard ellie's car pulling up, quickly putting my shoes on, i got out and got in the car.

"hiiii yn..."

"dina please, you're not cute."

"aww don't be mad! we're going to have so much fun today, i swear."

"ugh you know i can't be mad at you for long..."

"love you too!"

"sure..."

ellie began to drive and i started to listen to my own playlist (because ellie doesn't let anyone else touch the aux) and as i looked out the window i realized we were somewhere i've never been before. but i figured we were going to a new mall or something.

when we stopped ellie gestured me to take off my earphones,

"are you ready to make a new friend today yn?" ellie asked while giving me a very... nice smile.

"um.. sure..?"

"great! hi abby."

as she said hi, the door opened and a blonde girl sat next to me- and oh wow...

"hi, sorry if it was quite a drive.."

dina quickly shushed her, leaning back from her seat in an attempt to hug the girl and told her "no problem"

"so abby, this is our dear friend yn; and yn, this is my friend from high school. and she met ellie through her mom."

the girl- abby looked at me as dina was talking. she looked so awkward and her eyes were intense. and she was buff. like grrr, you know?

"hi abby," i smiled "you look very nice."

"oh," she looked flustered "thank you yn, you look pretty cute."

i smiled as a thank you and leaned back, as ellie started the car dina began to talk about something i didn't pay attention to and abby was... doing the same thing as me i guess? looking at her made me feel awkward.

as the car stopped for the second time ellie got out and opened my door, such a gentleman, just to hand me her camera.

i raised my brows, "really?"

she pouted a little "come on, please? you know you're good at managing the camera settings."

i just sighed and began tweaking the cameras settings. we couldn't find a way to make them stay that way permanently so it was my job every time, but it was okay. it made me feel useful.

as we started walking i looked up to see an arcade-but-like-not-really??? i figured we were here just for content.

i gave ellie the camera as she requested to be the cameraman for today, "not in the mood for talking" she said. i wandered off, looking for anything interesting to play with, when i saw my holy grail; the air hockey.

as i was running towards the hockey table abby came out of nowhere, making me stop suddenly.

"you sure you want to play that? no one's beaten me before..." she had a look of fake sadness, it was like she wanted me to beat her.

so i did.

maybe,

almost...

"oh come on! you can't just protect the goal openings, playing a game includes moving. not standing still."

my protest just made abby laugh, "oh i'm sorry- did your father invent air hockey with you beside him?"

it was when dina started laughing i realized that they had our entire match on camera. i was so into the game that i didn't even feel their presence.

"well- actually i can't think of anything witty to say..." this made abby snort. fucking snort. just as i was about to flip abby off, ellie turned the camera to me.

she cleared her throat, "and this, ladies, is the face of a fucking loser."

all i could do was stare at her as she laughed because sadly the purge isn't a real thing.

[sturnslutz]

tension, fluff, angst, kissing. 1 mention of joking suicide. arguing. a/n: should i just make this into a series or what… and lowkey yes im moving a little fast i just need to get to the good parts NOW

the night was drunk off heat and cake, air thick with the kind of energy that made your skin buzz. crickets were screaming, someone had “mr. brightside” blasting like it was still 2008, and the string lights over the porch flickered like they were in on the chaos.

you leaned back against the porch railing, sipping your drink slow. chris was back from whatever trip he’d taken with nate, eyes red, laughing at nothing as he flopped next to you again.

“yo.” he said, dragging the word out. “real talk. when you said i was tied for hottest? that wasn’t just to spare matt’s feelings, right?”

you gave him a look, feigning innocence. “who says i was sparing anyone’s feelings?”

he blinked, then grinned, all teeth. “wait, hold up, are you saying i was winning?”

you sipped your drink, leaned in just enough that he shut up real quick. “nah, just sayin’ you could’ve been. if matt didn’t have that whole tall, broody thing going for him.”

“BROODY?!” chris looked offended, nearly choking on air. “i’m tall too! and way more fun!”

“yeah,” you said, tapping his chest, “you’re fun, alright. like, dumbass fun. i gotta work for a laugh with matt. it’s a challenge.”

“oh wow,” chris said, hand on his heart like you stabbed him. “so you’re into the silent suffering type, huh? this is wild.”

before you could answer, matt reappeared out of nowhere, sipping a soda, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“you good?” he asked you, real casual, even though he definitely heard all that.

you smirked, shrugging. “chris is mad ‘cause i called him a dumbass.”

“not mad,” chris said, “just deeply hurt. there’s a difference.”

matt raised a brow. “you are kinda dumb, bro.” you tried not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway, and matt grinned, satisfied.

“you taking his side now?” chris asked, wide-eyed. “i thought we were having a moment.” you turned to him, real serious. “we did. it’s over. i’ve moved on.”

matt lost it at that, nearly spitting out his drink again, and your chest swelled with victory.

“damn.” chris muttered, then turned to nate, who was zoning out on the porch steps. “you hear that? she broke my heart in 2.5 seconds.”

“you’ll live.” nate said, eyes barely open.

matt came closer, standing just behind you now, leaning over your shoulder to grab something off the railing. you could feel him there, the way his arm brushed yours, the way your skin lit up like someone struck a match.

“you really calling me broody?” he murmured, voice right in your ear.

you tilted your head toward him, smug. “not in a bad way.” he smiled, slow. “you think about me like that?”

you blinked, heat rushing to your face. “i think about a lot of things.” his hand brushed your lower back, real light. “good to know.”

you didn’t move. neither did he. the air between you buzzed louder than the music, louder than chris fake-crying on the other side of the porch.

solina came back out, pausing in the doorway, eyes flicking to matt’s hand, then your face, then back down. she didn’t say anything, just walked over and slid next to nate, her face blank.

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but chris beat you to it. “aight’, someone play spin the bottle before i die of rejection.”

he collapsed onto the porch like he was making a statement, arms spread. nick cackled. “bro’s down bad. pearl broke him.”

you laughed, glancing back at matt, who was still too close, still watching. “don’t worry, chris,” you said, walking past him, your hand brushing his shoulder, “maybe i’ll give you another shot.”

he perked up, immediately. “yo, for real? bet. let’s go. spin that fucking bottle.”

matt, behind you, muttered, “you’re so full of shit.”you looked over your shoulder, smirking. “prove it.”

his eyes darkened a little, mouth twitching like he wanted to smile, wanted to say something.

“oh, i will,” he said. “don’t worry.”

and that? yeah, that did something to you.

solina watched the whole thing. didn’t say a word.

but you could feel it, some tension in the air. something you’ve never really felt from her.

the bottle was some half-empty vodka that nate brought over, sticky with condensation and definitely not meant for whatever chaos nick was orchestrating, but here you were. circled up on the porch under those flickering string lights, everyone a little too hyped, a little too sweaty, and, if you were being honest—very on edge.

“okay,” nick said, like he was hosting survivor or something, “rules are simple. spin. land. kiss. no bitching out.”

“this is a bad idea.” solina muttered, half under her breath, eyes locked on the bottle like it had personally wronged her.

“that’s why it’s fun.” nate said, already halfway to gone, sitting cross-legged and giggling to himself.

“there’s only 2 girls, nate. how the fuck is that fun?” you asked, tilting your head at the gone boy.

“because it is. trust.” he says slowly, him and chris both laughing at the end of his sentence. “yeah, for sure trusting the guy who’s seeing unicorns in the sky right now.” you said, laughing.

matt hadn’t said much, just sat there, legs stretched out, eyes flicking between you and the bottle, expression unreadable. again. always unreadable.

“who’s first?” nick said, looking directly at you. “pearl, right? birthday girl goes first.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “you just wanna see me suffer.” he shrugged, grinning. “yeah, and?” you sighed, leaned forward, and spun the bottle. everyone went dead silent.

it landed on nate.

“oh thank god.” you muttered, already leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“uh, nah,” nick said, grinning like a devil, “rules are rules, that’s a lips kiss right there.”

nate just laughed, holding his hands up. “yo, i don’t make the rules, but i’ll follow ‘em.”

you groaned, kissed nate real quick, barely counted, and flopped back into place, face burning.

“lame.” chris said, “barely even a kiss. i’d treat you better, just sayin’.”

“oh my god, shut up. you’re so fucking annoying.” solina snapped, eyes sharp. chris blinked at her. “damn, alright. didn’t know i was public enemy number one.”

you shot solina a look, but she wouldn’t meet your eyes, just stared at the bottle like she was daring it to land on her next.

it did.

right on matt.

the porch went silent again, and you swear your stomach dropped straight into the earth.

solina looked like she’d seen a ghost. matt didn’t move.

“uh,” nick said, voice a little too forced, “rules are rules.” solina cleared her throat, forced a smile that didn’t even try to reach her eyes. “guess i’m not bitching out.”

matt still didn’t move for a second, then slowly sat up straighter.

you watched them kiss, and it wasn’t long. it wasn’t deep. but it was enough to twist something sharp in your chest. when solina sat back down, she didn’t look at you. at all. matt glanced over, just once, then back down at the bottle.

your turn again.

you spun, hand a little too tight on the bottle neck. it spun wild, clattering slightly—and stopped.

matt.

no fucking way.

nate choked on his drink. “yo. this game is getting dangerous.”

chris was already leaning back, way too invested.

“you have to kiss him now. rules are rules, remember?” matt looked at you, real quiet, real unreadable.

“you gonna bitch out?” he asked, voice low. you didn’t even blink. “nah. never.”

you leaned in, heart hammering like a war drum, and kissed him.

his hand slid to your waist, warm and there, and you felt him smile just a little against your lips before pulling back.

you stared at him. he stared at you.

solina stood up suddenly. “i’m done. game’s over for me.”

she walked back into the house without another word.

nick let out a low whistle. “yo… did we just start a war?” chris was watching, eyebrows raised, like he wasn’t sure if he was amused or pissed.

you sat back, heart still racing, matt’s hand brushing yours as he shifted. neither of you moved away.

“you good?” he asked, voice low, only for you.

you looked at him, met those dark eyes, and didn’t say anything for a second.

“yeah. i’m good. just weirded out by solina.” you look towards the inside of the house, which was now barely illuminated due to the parents going to sleep. you saw solina making her way up the stairs, not sparing the porch another look.

“i think she’s jealous.” chris blurted out, and nate smacked his arm. “don’t say that shit, bro.”

you don’t look at them, but stand up, heading towards the house. “yo!” matt yelled out, running towards you. “why you going back inside? it’s only midnight.” he looks down at you as you stop and look at him.

“i’m gonna go check on lina, she never leaves out of nowhere like that. just stay out here, make sure they don’t kill themselves or something.” he nods, turning back around without another word.

you made your way inside, carefully stepping up the stairs to get up to you and solina’s shared room. you walked in, and saw her on the bed on her phone.

solina didn’t look at you. not when you shut the door behind you, not when you crossed the room, not even when you said her name.

“hey, why’d you leave?” your voice was soft, barely above a whisper in the dim light, the hallway outside barely glowing now that the parents were asleep.

she was sitting on the bed, phone in hand, thumb frozen over the screen. “got tired.”

you laughed, confused. “tired? already? it’s the first night, lina. you don’t usually tap out ‘til like week two minimum.”

she shrugged, still not looking at you. “jus’ don’t feel good, alright? don’t make a big deal out of it.”

something in her voice was off. it almost didn’t seem like her.

your brows pulled together. “what the fuck is your problem?” you said, trying to keep it light, but it came out harder than you meant. “this is literally night one and you’re already acting weird and bitching out.

she scoffed, finally looking up. her eyes were cold, annoyed. “bitching out? really? you sound just like the guys. god. can’t you see they’re all obsessed with you?”

you blinked. “what?”

“even nick, and he’s fucking gay. and you’re his best friend!” her voice cracked, but she kept going. “you walk into a room and it’s like—boom, it’s the pearl show. and i’m just… here.”

“be quiet,” you said quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed, heart pounding. “you’re gonna wake the parents up.”

she laughed, bitter. “right, sorry. wouldn’t wanna ruin your big night.” you stared at her. “lina, where the hell is this coming from?”

she looked at you for a second, and something flickered behind her eyes. guilt? something worse?

“you know exactly where it’s coming from,” she muttered. “don’t play dumb.”

you shook your head, confused. “if this is about tonight, it’s not that deep. we’re all just messing around. you know that.”

she didn’t answer. didn’t have to.

and then it hit you.

oh.

your voice dropped. “you’re mad about matt.”

she flinched. barely, but you caught it.

you stood up, pacing now, hands clenched. “are you serious right now? you know I’ve liked him for years. i told you that. multiple times.”

“i know!” she snapped, standing up too. “i know, pearl! i know you’ve liked him forever, okay? i’m not stupid. i see the way you look at him.”

“then why the fuck are you acting like this?” your voice rose, frustration spilling out now. “i told you everything, and you’re sitting here acting like i’m some—attention hogging bitch for existing.”

she stepped closer, fire in her eyes. “because maybe i like him too, alright?! maybe i have for a while, and maybe i hated myself for it every time you talked about him.”

the room went dead silent.

your heart dropped, stomach flipping in the worst way possible.

“…you what?”

she ran a hand through her hair, pacing now, voice shaking. “i didn’t mean to. i didn’t want to. but every time we’re here, every summer, it’s like… he’s everywhere. and i started feeling things i wasn’t supposed to feel, and i tried to ignore it, i swear. but then tonight, seeing you two? kissing? laughing? like i’m just invisible? it fucked me up, okay?”

you were frozen, chest tight, like something had shattered between you.

“lina… why didn’t you tell me?”

she laughed, bitter. “what the hell was i supposed to say? ‘hey bestie, i know you’re in love with him, but i might be too, haha’? like that’s not completely fucked up?”

you swallowed hard, voice flat. “so instead you what? acted like a bitch all night?” her face crumbled for a second, guilt cracking through the anger.

“i didn’t mean to. i just—i didn’t know what else to do.”

you stared at her. the silence between you wasn’t quiet—it was screaming.

finally, you shook your head, stepping back.

“i need some air.”

she didn’t stop you.

just sat down, looking wrecked, and didn’t say a word as you slipped out the door.

the hallway was cold, your heart pounding in your ears, and for the first time tonight you didn’t know what to do.

a/n: YIKES….. anyways.. might make this into a series

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss

[thatnonameuser]

Hi!! Good morning, good afternoon or good night depending on when you read this.

First of all, I want to clarify that I am not very good at English 🥲. It's not my native language, so I'll use Google translator in some parts.

I wanted to ask what it would be like to have a very kind, loving and carefree darling in Yandere TW.

For example:

When the teachers talk about yanderes and darlings in class, our MC just thinks it's a joke, no matter how weird it may be.

When Ace suddenly appears in MC's bedroom, at the night, instead of welcoming him worried and trembling with fear (and with a knife), she welcomes him with open arms and even accep Ace offer to sleep next to her and Grim, even though they would be very cramped and probably uncomfortable.

Or being a sweet pea with every yandere in the Au just, because, yes? Even when the boys show very notable toxic, manipulative and sadistic tendencies that can harm, directly or indirectly, other people, or even worse, her self.

I really appreciate you reading this and just respond if you want. I don't want to bother.

I almost forgot to say it, but I love your Yandere TW stories.

It was night time when I got this, and firstly, thank you so much and don't worry I love to answer these.

I'll make this an imagine, so I hope you enjoy it.

TW: Drugging, aphrodisiacs

Imagine.....

This world is a little strange, but you're in a whole new world so, why should you judge? Sure, it's a little strange, but it has to be a joke. Right?

This is a villain school, right? This is all just to teach them to do that. New world, new rules. There's nothing wrong. Nothing to be afraid of.

Sure. Ace got into your room through the window in the middle of the night, but he was kicked out of his dorm and had nowhere to go. A little desperation is understandable.

"Hey, _____ Lemme stay with you, I'm real slim. I won't take up much space~" Oh, of course you said, yes. What were you going to do, let him sleep outside? He's your friend, friends have sleepovers sometimes. Yeah, you were forced to cuddle in real close to both fit, but it was considering how cold, it was a little body heat was nice.

Sure, you felt his hands get a little close in places, or him holding you too tight in others. But he was sleeping and the bed was already a tight fit.

There was nothing to worry about.

So when Trey offered you a variety of sweet-smelling and delicious-looking tarts....

"I accidentally made too many, ____ would you like some?" Once again, you said yes. Free food, by a baker that made such delicious desserts when cheap ol Crowley refused to give you anything fast, how could you say no? He was just being nice!

Sure, a good half hour after you ate them you started to feel very, very warm. So warm that your clothes became stifling. So warm that your skin felt like it was on fire. So warm that you needed to kick Grim out of your room so that you could relieve the burn. But maybe you were just pent up? You never did feel like that before.

There was nothing to worry about.

So when Jack frequently started offering you and then covering you with his jacket, regardless of whether or not you asked.....

"Put this on."

"Why?"

"Just keep it on." You didn't object, didn't stop it from happening. The weather was getting colder, maybe he was just covering you with it because he thought you were cold, it was autumn and soon it would be winter. He was just being nice.

Sure, it eventually progressed to him touching you more and more, keeping at it until you smelled vaguely of his cologne. And yeah, while it really annoyed Leona and Ruggie, it kept the other beastmen away from you.

There's nothing to worry about.

So when you got into a scuffle that ended with Leona leaving a large bite mark meant to be permanently planted in the back of your neck for all to see.

"Oi, Herbivore don't cover my mark." You did as he said and moved on. It was just a coincidence that after Jack and Ruggie saw it they got very mad. Or the Octavinelle trio. But again it was just a coincidence.

There's nothing to worry about.

So when Floyd squeezed you so tight that your ribs felt like snapping and he wouldn't let go no matter how much you begged him to.

So when you suddenly felt sick after eating whatever Jade prepared for you, which was conveniently when you were spending time with people that were not him.

So when Azul offers you contract after contract, that are meant to tie you to him forever.

So when Kalim gave you gift after gift. Each more expensive than the last. Jewellery, Clothes, Food, and more all exotic or ridiculously expensive. And he'd keep giving them no matter how much you refused.

So when you blanked out mid conversation with Jamil, and woke up, with a headache and no memory of why there was a snake bracelet around your bicep.

So when Epel gets into fights with the delinquents that bother you, beating the life out of them and coming to you to treat whatever injuries he gets. Fights he gets into no matter how many times Vil punishes him for them.

So when things go missing from your room, especially on the days you meet Rook, especially some of your more personal belongings.

So when after the afternoons Vil takes to 'polish' the apple he considers you to be

So when you start to find some hidden cameras in your room after

So when Malleus gave you that necklace charm that you couldn't take off no matter how hard you pulled.

So when Silver visits your dreams, saving you from your nightmares and trying to serenade you while you slept.

So when Sebek, even with his clear dislike of humans, treats you like you're so fragile that he doesn't even consider leaving you alone.

Your conclusion is always the same.

They were just being nice.

You were overeacting.

Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

[sanesaviour]

Capture of Solarion

little bit of lore:

After Solarion is chased on and off by Taskamster for several weeks, his(hers) paranoia and mental health hit rock bottom and one night, during battle, in order to protect himself, Solarion begins to use his fire powers on a grand scale and loses control, ending in massive fire in the center of city… the injured Taskmaster is captured by agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Spidey’s team is ordered to stop Solarion, but when he regains his control back, he escapes…

He is nowhere to be seen for few days, but then he returns back to saving city (bc it’s his only purpose in life at the moment) and is surprised when he finds out that Spidey’s team is still after him (they tell him that Fury just want to talk to him, which he don’t believe obvi). He avoids them or runs away few times, but in the end they still meet in battle (5 against one, damn, you can imagine the amount of offensive jokes he makes about it). He doesn’t use his fire powers during fight, but only his speed, agility and bit of martial arts he knows, as he’s still shaken up from the previous incident involving fire… he is actually trying not to defeat them (which would be impossible anyway) but waiting for the opportunity to escape again.

After while of friendly like fighting (since they used to have ok relationship with Solarion before incident, so they don’t really want to hurt each other, they just want him to cooperate) and spidey’s puns, like: “This conversation is getting blazing hot!”, “let’s not fuel the argument.”, “I’d make another pun, but I don’t wanna burn out-.”, he asks Solarion: “but seriously what is with that fire powers of yours? I knew you were bit hot-headed when you get mad, but I didn’t mean it literally.” After more questions like this from others, he is pissed and serious fight begins, which quickly escalates to him kicking White Tiger into the stomach, which others consider as really bad since they think he’s man who just hit a woman (they are very protective of Ava)…

Nova rushes to help White Tiger, while others realize that things won’t go the good way and only way to bring Solarion to Nick is to chain him up. They use combo attacks on him and while he’s dodging Powerman’s attack, Iron Fist charges at him and knocks him to the ground. They handcuff him and bring him to S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Fury then gives him foreword about how he had chance to join the Shield (no one on the team knew that except spidey) and none of it would have happened, responsibility, discipline, blah, blah, blah… when spidey asks what will happen to him next, as he is little worried about him, Fury just replies that Shield will take care of him…

The last thing Fury orders team to do is to unmask him, which Solarion immediately disagrees with… Ava volunteers for this task as her revenge on him… as she holds his mask ready to snatch it off he says with bit annoyed voice: “don’t enjoy this too much…” she answers: “this is what you get for hitting woman buddy-“ when she takes off his mask everyone is shocked by Solarion’s true identity… none of them even thought that Solarion could be womam. Solarion’s nose is still bleeding from when Iron fist hit him during fight… she stares to side for moment, then she looks at them and breaks the silence: “interesting how the tables turned”

After this, she is taken away by shield’s agents and Spidey’s team don’t see her for while.

.

Yippie I finished writing this after two hours, now I can get some sleep🎉🎉

[paragonrobits]

in adventure time stuff, Marceline is front and center as indisputably the single most popular character, widely loved within and out of the fanbase; she's kind of a distillation of the series' wacky tone because she is unironically a vampirized half-demon child of Satan Stand-In, a heavy metal rock star who's dated a mad scientist princess, her adoptive dad is arguably one of the most powerful entities in the setting and a terrifying ice wizard who survived the apocalypse through cunning BEFORE he was consumed by his curse, and the greatest hero in the land who is otherwise a mundane human won her friendship by punching her so hard she went 'FUCKING SWEET, WE ARE NOW BROS FOR LIFE'

but the thing about Marceline that is arguably the single most essential aspect of her character, and not something that is apparent from the joke or memes around her

is how nice and genuinely sweet she is.

Yes, she's a badass. Yes, she is probably the single most powerful character in a conventional sense among Finn's friend group, to the point that she is less present in serious situations because her picking a side would trivialize just about anything short of the Lich or the apocalyptic arrival of Golb.

But as we see more of her character, we see that she goes out of her way to actually avoid seriously upsetting people. The most recurring motif of her songs is that while they sound threatening or spooky, she says them in a very sweet and loving way that makes them too silly and harmless to take seriously. At her core, that's kind of who she is; she's honestly a genuinely nice person who deliberately distances herself from people because she outlives everyone she cares about, one way or another, and she pushes people away so she doesn't have to see it happen, but she can't help but get close to someone.

In a lot of ways, Finn helps her grow out of this mindset, and the relationships she establishes through him, or rekindles because of him, help her grow out of this. But even then, she has no real mean-ness in her

ironic, given the "MARCELINE WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN" song, but she gives her own answer right there:

"I'm not mean/I'm just a thousand years old and I lost track of my moral code"

Tellingly, when we see her as a young girl (and before meeting Simon, likely almost right before she met him), she has internalized the idea that she's a horrible, awful monster who scares people away. That she loses everyone around her, because SHE'S a scary monster. We see the source of her tendency to push people away, because that way she has some kind of control over it, and otherwise she thinks its inevitable.

But she can't help but get close to people anyway, and in many ways, her relationship with Ash is a very clear example that she is NOWHERE near as violent or ferocious as she looks. Their relationship openly has her abused, meek and quiet, and she is a nigh-unstoppable soul-eating monster that NO ONE could reasonably fight. Even so the closest she gets to actually lashing out against a guy who sold her most cherished possession (and the last remaining reminder of a father figure who can't ever come back) is to just end their relationship instead of lashing out against him.

Much like the reveal of her relationship to Ice King (which interestingly also maps to his slow recovery from being a villain at all, to the point that around the time this becomes a big aspect of his character he is functionally not really a villain, though still a danger to himself and others), its a slow burn. Showing that she's by far one of the least malicious beings in the entire setting, and she could be a hero.

And the answer to that one is: because she used to be. And that part of herself isn't as long-gone as she would like to think.

[giuseppe-yuki]

I feel like half the drivers accidentally found out their partners were shapeshifters when they were told and the other half found out on accident. Pierre found out on accident and almost ended up passing out seeing the snake on the couch watching TV

George was just very confused about having a deer in his apartment with its head in the fridge

Alex is convinced he’s either sleep deprived or he’s been drugged when he sees a cockatiel folding shirts

Yuki sees you in bunny form when he comes back to the hotel after a night race and you’re just napping on your pillow, he shoots you a text to tell you there’s a rabbit in your spot

Charles thinks you’re joking for the first few weeks after you tell him and lightly teases you until you get tired of it and turn into a hedgehog to bite his fingers mid breakfast

Oscar assumes you’re just tired and delirious when you tell him and he won’t take it seriously until you’ve slept and turn into a duck to hop in the bath with him

Logan just kind of shrugs and thinks “this might as well happen” and gives you a kiss before going off to work

Fernando and Lewis, being old, have both met a single shapeshifter before so when their partners tell them they are completely on board and excited to take you to races in animal form

hey anon, i actually posted a little blurb about this awhile ago for kimi, charles, lewis, alex, max, n lando here!

i really like your takes though :)

i feel it's totally canon for pierre to actually be deathly scared of snakes (like his bestie charles) pre-reveal. his gf knows this, obviously, so she held back on letting him know until she totally forgot one day and decided to chill in her snake form on the couch. cue pierre shuffling into the living room, looking for cuddles and seeing an actual snake on the couch watching, like, the office. he starts screaming and almost faints, almost hitting his head on the glass coffee table. his girlfriend realizes last minute and shifts back to her human to try and diffuse the situation, but only effectively almost causes poor pierre to pass out from shock again 😭 afterwards, though, he gets over his fear and reads up on snakes, therefore becoming- dare i say, a snake expert.

in my shapeshifting!series, george's gf is a successful conservation biologist working at a national park. i feel like george would probably think that the deer is somehow part of his gf's job somehow. he'd be confused but still accepting that the deer was currently going through the bag of apples in the fridge that his girlfriend bought awhile ago at an abnormal rate. later, at dinner or something, he'd prob bring it up out of nowhere, and make sure his gf knows that if she finds the bag of apples empty it was not him- it was the deer that she like, "brought from her work or something." his gf would prob be jokingly mad, like, " oh georgie, you didn't you stop the deer from stealing my apples then >:(" but ultimately reveal her ability.

if alex found a cockatiel in his living quarters i always feel like he'd resort to violence first, as seen in the blurb i wrote before. he'd like freeze up, seeing the bird fluttering around, flying a clothing hanger with his gf's favorite dior top towards the open closet. the cockatiel neatly hangs it on the clothing rod and dives back towards the laundry basket for burberry button up before alex starts swatting at it to "leave his gf's clothes alone." he likely starts shouting for his gf to get in the room, quick, or else "the stupid ass bird that probably flew in from the window is going to ruin your nice clothes". although his gf appreciates the sentiment, she also gets pissed at him for swatting at her and calling her a stupid ass bird after revealing her shapeshifting!abilities ;-;

ha! after, like, las vegas or something, yuki will stumble into the hotel room to find a bunny in loaf form on his gf's pillow. he def takes a pic of the bunny and sends it to his gf, thinking she's out on the strip with the other wags, like, "hi baby i'm back at the hotel :) btw there's a bunny on your pillow it's kinda cute lol [image]" he scoots the bunny over very lightly as to not wake it up but leaves enough space so his gf would be able to sleep when she comes back. it's not until he eats dinner, showers, and watches half of his fav jason statham movie before he realizes it's a little suspicious his gf is nowhere to be seen. he sends her another text, "baby wya it's like 3am 😥" before his *still* sleepy gf walks into the tv area, rubbing her eyes, calling him to come to bed w her. she ignores his confused stuttering and cuts him off w, "wdym yuki i was literally sleeping on the bed the whole time ?" he only connects the dots the next morning in the middle of breakfast in bed, much to the amusement of his gf.

charles is literally so unserious about the whole thing when his gf mentions it at first. a hedgehog? ha right, ur literally so funny ma chérie. he sees a random person wearing sonic merch and immediately asks his gf if that's her. arthur is bothering him? he asks his gf if he's allowed to throw her in her hedgehog form at him so his brother gets impaled by her spikes. she's usually super chill and swears not to cause any harm to anyone but she def makes an exception when it gets too much. charles, with his half buttered croissant halfway to his mouth and teasing grin pasted on his face, is thoroughly unprepared when she launches at him and bites him real hard. he shrieks and jumps out of his chair, but is only met with an eye roll and a snort as his gf makes her way back to her side of the table.

i can't get it out of my head that oscar treats his gf like that meme where the woman is helping her grandma who is in a walker and is like sure, grandma, let's get you to bed. when his gf grasps him by the shoulders, look at him v seriously in the eyes, and says, "i can turn into a duck" at approx 2am, he doesn't believe her at all, and tucks her into bed. throughout the week, he sees clues that hints that she might be telling the truth that he's never noticed before... feathers everywhere, like, 20 bags of frozen peas in the freezer, the constant unfinished ice waters left on the counter. exactly a week later, he had just drawn himself up a bath and dunked his body into the warm water when he hears the door open and his gf siddle in with a smile on her face, already sliding her robe off. he automatically assumes "ooh freaky time perhaps 😈" but then she turns into a duck. his only response is a "wot ? 🤔 🤨"

hooray for nonchalant immediately supportive logan! he completely ignores the fact that his gf just shifted into an entire hawk in the middle of his living room and was standing quite patriotically with her ruffled feathers. instead of freaking out like his gf thought he would, he shrugs and pecks a kiss on her feathery head before saluting her a "goodbye babe, i'm off to work :D ! call me if you need anything :) " (logan's gf texts alex's gf about it and they end up having a good laugh at the unexpected reactions of their bf's - one was so unbothered and the other went to defensive mode)

ofc, ofc! nando and lew are v wise already regarding shapeshifters. they don't hesitate in giving their gfs any accommodations at all for their respective forms (nando with a cocker spaniel and lewis with a samyoed) within seconds, nando will have specialty arrangements ordered for his gf in the am garage while lewis is banging out an email to toto regarding adjustment made to the merc hospitalities for easier "access" (immediately approved due to the fact toto his own wolf shapeshifter!gf)

[krems-chair]

I would give all my critiques (this is a lie) back if at the end of Veilguard we had found out in an extra extra post-Marvel credits scene that it's just been Sandal playing with figurines on the Skyhold war table's map of Thedas all Civil War Buff Dad style.

I wasn't going to do this because everyone deserves to rationalize Veilguard however works best for them, but in the wake of that hilariously dismal end-of-times IGN interview and AMA, I thought I'd share how my best friend and I decided to view Veilguard. Everything below is taken from probably a fifteen minute text conversation we had working through our disappointment together, but by the end we both felt way better about the game.

Picture this. You reach the climax of the game, Solas has freed himself from the fade and is getting ready to cast a really powerful spell and suddenly, out of nowhere, he just gets squished flat and then it immediately cuts to Bodahn in a little fire-lit room saying "Oh Sandal, you crushed another one of the pieces?"

Varric is sitting there alive, well, and BLONDE, and has been playing the whole game with Sandal and says "the kid's got a great imagination." They're all in the home of the Inquisitor.

So how do we get here, you might ask?

*drumroll*

Actually wait no I fear this is going to be long so I'll put a divider thingy in.

So hear me out.

We'll go a year or so after Trespasser. The inquisitor is going through it. Skyhold is still theirs to command because sure everyone and their mother's mother was mad at the Inquisition for taking care of business, but what are you going to do, take their home away? Not if any of the Inquisitor's fiercely loyal friends have anything to say about it (I'm sure Josephine had something worked out to get a title locked down after there being so much uncertainty at Haven, anyway).

So it's become a home base once more, regardless of how intact the inquisition is or isn't under Divine Victoria. Agents are always going in and out, the murals in the rotunda serve as an ever-present reminder of the mission at hand, and Varric visits regularly from Kirkwall to touch base. On one such visit, Bodahn and Sandal accompany him, because they heard there might be a need for enchantments (BOOM).

One night everyone ends up around the map because it's been a rougher week than usual and a game of wicked grace at the tavern just isn't enough, they've gotta treat this like an overdue group project and pull an all-nighter to get SOMEWHERE on tracking down Solas.

Enter Sandal. He's bored, no one is asking him to enchant anything, and Dagna isn't around for them to talk shop (engage in probably illegal/definitely unsafe experiments). And there, amidst the pile of clutter the team has been using when they need to add a new piece to the war table, is a Rook chess piece.

He's seen one before, of course. Varric used to try and teach it to him back in Kirkwall, and Sandal was good in the way that new chess players who go full chaos mode are stellar at driving experienced chess players crazy. His win streak is no joke. So he grabs it, tries to lighten the mood around the war table because no one in a bad mood is going to be requesting enchantments any time soon, and suddenly the tension that's been building up for months starts to ease just a little.

Eventually, everyone gets involved. Much like any great D&D campaign, they fit time in for the adventures of Rook & co in between skrimishes, secret missions, and stressful planning sessions, but that just enables more people to have input.

The Chargers keep making suggestions of all the missions Rook should go on when they pass through, but these all end up becoming Neve's cases.

Bellara was made up by Cassandra who stopped by for a visit from rebuilding the Seekers/wearing her big hat and she was too busy to give anything substantial, but she went with what she knows: a character who loves romance and has a dead brother.

Sera doesn't have the attention span to get too in-depth with it, but she does doodle all over the map of Thedas and add some much needed commentary as the Rook piece moves across it. She also INSISTS that the villains of the story be old and elfy, because they don't get enough representation as villains.

Lucanis loving coffee/it being 75% of his lines comes exclusively from the fact that on the nights they get too invested to stop it's the only thing that keeps them going and he became the character that embodies that particular struggle.

There are so many enchantments Rook can take advantage of because Sandal keeps thinking of new ones he can test with Dagna when she's next around.

Speaking of Sandal again, he tried to kill Varric off in the beginning because he was putting on his author hat and over-narrating. Varric was of course like "wait no why did you kill me I wanted to be part of this" so he keeps interjecting as himself and everyone else is like "shhh you're dead." They only indulge him when they conclude what feels like a major plot point and need someone with an understanding of narrative and pacing to tie all the threads together or give them an idea of where to go next.

The Inquisitor struggles to get into it sometimes because they feel like the weight of the world is on their shoulders yet again. Occasionally, they'll sighs heavily and insert their game piece onto the board (Blackwall carved it, so it's as close s a completely different style can be to their true likeness) to be like "so anyways, THESE are the problems happening in Southern Thedas, in case anyone forgot" only for their message crystal to light up and Dorian's voice to filter through.

"I hear you're working on an astounding number of hypotheticals. Do you think it would be feasible to form an undercover group that works to liberate slaves?"

And then suddenly they spend the rest of the night working through how effective such an organization might be (through Rook's eyes, of course), but because Dorian isn't there to stop them they give him an insane new hairstyle and mention it every time they're giving a description of the Shadow Dragon leader. He is horrified.

Harding gets to be a self-insert because everyone unilaterally agrees that a fictional scout wouldn't hold a candle to her skill level. All the not fleshed out dwarven plot points come from their scrambled theorizing, but it does inspire her to look deeper into the mysterious Kal-Sharok during her real travels.

The reason Morrigan acts so out of character is because they're all like "we have no fucking idea what she gets up to when she isn't saving the world, but we know she'd be there in some capacity."

Leliana is busy busy busy but when she hears about what they're doing and that Morrigan is involved, she finds the time to send a letter saying "let's give her different hair :)"

When Morrigan finds out she brings Kieran for a visit (he missed all of his friends at Skyhold anyway) and is like "seems a most inconvenient waste of time..." and then finds out Leliana is the reason her game piece looks crazy and is like...make a character who is nosy and up in everyone's business all the time but still super reserved and afraid to trust others. (Boom, hi Neve).

Kieran gets really into the story and is critical to designing Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. "She has sooOOoO many arms!" he explains, miming it out over the sound of a muffled voice crystal shaking as Dorian yells "you could've killed me! You could have made me evil! But you made me UGLY?!"

Even the Inquisitor, exhausted as they are, still finds the time to check in and ask if brown-haired Varric is still dead. The answer is always yes.

They all have a good laugh about the idea of Treviso and Minrathous being full of zip lines, but how else are they going to get to the parts they actually care about?

Minrathous gets destroyed instead of Treviso because while they're deciding the stakes for Rook to be faced with, Fenris stops by to check in with Varric because he heard they might need to go to Tevinter. He takes one look at the board and goes "hanging bodies. Everywhere."

"Fenris, that means the venatori will take over."

"...this game is stupid anyway."

Iron Bull definitely said "this story needs a DRAGON HUNTER" so boom. Enter Taash. A Dorian that romanced him sighs heavily and decides to play along if only to get to spend more time with his amatus another way. He models a character after one of his favorite professors from when he was a child.

Solas looks so yassified because the Inquisitor's love interest (or Sera, if they're pining after the Dread Wolf himself) came by and threw his actual war table piece into the fire during a particularly rough evening after his agents thwarted them yet again. To replace him, they let Kieran draw on a spoon and add a new cursed detail every time he pulls some bullshit to try and cheer each other up.

Fenris goes back to Kirkwall and complains about the stupid game Varric is running instead of spending all of his time on saving the world. Merrill overhears and is like "oh! They're incorporating eluvians? That's nice!" until she hears about how many there are and her eye starts twitching.

Harding only dies because everyone over-celebrates when Rook finally gets a win over on the stuffed squid animal being used to represent Ghilan'ain and her game piece topples over. Varric insisted that it be canon because he's tired of being the only dead one.

Blackwall gets Sera to be a little more invested by promising they can make a character together, maybe an elven Grey Warden! She washes her hands of anything too dalish, even though Blackwall makes it clear that there's more to him than that, but insists he should have a loyal griffon friend in honor of his rocking toys.

It's one of the Inquisitor's fondest memories as they prepare to actually find Solas for real, and one of the only unifying threads keeping everyone sane.