#and then she gets MAD at you for caring about her

[rafesangelita]

♡ after a nasty break up, you and rafe find yourselves at the same valentine’s day party, both of you on a mission to distract yourselves for the night. what started as a petty competition to piss each other off, soon turned into a competition to see who would tap out first..

warnings: toxic!rafe, mentions of stalking, jealousy, oral (m. receiving), fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, orgasm denial, hair pulling, slapping, choking, biting, asphyxiation, very little blood, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘EXES AND O’S’ 🤍 this was originally a fluffy prompt with frat!rafe.. idk how we ended up here but i hope you love it nonetheless <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.5k

“what about him? he’s cute.” you followed chanel’s line of vision, your eyes landing on a guy with curly brown hair, a soft smile, and freckles that dusted across his cheeks. “he’s too cute.” you looked away, sighing to yourself as chanel snickered at your side. “oh, i’m sorry, i forgot you only like guys who look like they’re damn near unapproachable.” just then, you spotted rafe in the corner with another girl, that stupid flirtatious look adorning his face as he spared you a single glance. he knew you were looking at him, his hand trailing down the stranger’s back until he grabbed a handful of her ass through her dress.

truth be told, rafe didn’t really care about the girl in front of him. he was at this party for one reason, and one reason only; pussy. after you two ended things in a fit of rage, rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you, even going as far as stalking all of your socials and camping outside your house just to catch a glimpse of you since you enforced a strict ‘no contact’ rule. at the end of the day, he had needs, and his preferred need didn’t want shit to do with him, so now he was here; telling this girl whatever she wanted to hear in hopes he could ‘hit it and quit it’ as soon as possible.

he hated how sexy you looked sitting there. hair freshly done, your face was in what you called ‘full glam’, but your outfit? he was on the verge of dragging you out of the house and taking you home with him just for wearing it. a black see through dress, that he indeed could see through, black strappy heels that hugged your calves perfectly, and his personal favorite; a black lace choker with a ribbon in the front. to put it simply, you looked like sex on legs. “are you even listening to me?” rafe snapped out of his trance, a shit-eating grin playing on your lips while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

he was so pathetic, he had a free opportunity to get his dick wet standing right in front of him and he still couldn’t help but get distracted at the sight of you. if he wanted to make you mad, he needed to have actual competition, and just like both of you knew; there was no such thing. if rafe was going that low, you were going to go even lower. getting up from your spot on the couch, rafe’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way to the crowded living room. the lights grew dim, one of his favorite songs playing over the speakers as you started dancing.

you weren’t even by yourself for a full minute before you felt a pair of large hands snake around your waist, the person’s frontside digging into the soft flesh of your ass as your hips moved against the mystery man. rafe felt his eye twitch, his jaw clenching as you looked up just in time to hold your new dancing partner close by the back of their neck. “you fucking bitch..” he whispered to himself. as if you could read his lips, you turned around, looking up at the hottest guy in the room. besides your ex-boyfriend, of course. he had dark hair, a chiseled jawline, and was exactly the type to make rafe pissed.

pulling him down to your head level, you leaned in and kissed him, your eyes staying on rafe’s the entire time. at first, rafe was just gonna let you have your moment and let you think you got the last laugh.. but then he saw the guy’s hand slip underneath your dress and your tongue slip out of your mouth. “fuck it.” rafe nudged the girl off of his arm and stormed upstairs, your chest blooming with pride as you watched him disappear. once he was out of your sight, you pulled away from the stranger with a roll of your eyes, leaving the poor guy confused in the middle of the living room.

now that rafe was gone, you were bored once again, your phone going off inside your purse.

[10:10 PM] chanel <3: come upstairs!! hottie alert..

your eyebrows knitted in confusion at the message. ‘hottie alert’, chanel did not talk like that. adjusting the hem of your dress, you made your way upstairs where a line for the bathroom wrapped around the hallway. you could feel everyone’s gazes burning into your skin, your eyes scanning for your bestie in the crowded area. walking past some of the bedrooms, you paused once you reached the last door on the right.

“give me my phone you fucking psychopath!” the voice belonged to none other than chanel, your nails clicking against the metal knob before you swung the door open. “what the fuck are you doing?!” you shoved rafe in the chest before ripping chanel’s phone out of his hand. “i wouldn’t have to text you from your friend’s phone if you didn’t have me blocked on everything.” he spat, a teasing smile gracing his lips as you whispered something in chanel’s ear. “..are you sure?” you had just told her to give you a moment alone with him, your bestie feeling a little uneasy at the idea.

“trust me, i’ll be fine,” you scoffed, “look at him.” both of you turned around just in time to see rafe stand up with a wince.

you may or may not have pushed him straight into the chiseled edge of the hardwood dresser that sat in the corner of the room..

chanel accepted her phone as you handed it to her, making sure to shoot rafe one more glare before shutting the door behind her. rafe watched you click the lock, his figure towering over your own as he caged you between the wall. “posing as my friend to get me upstairs.. really, rafe? you look desperate as fuck.” you laughed, the degrading sound turning him on. he laughed along before wrapping a hand around your neck, the smile dropping from his face the second he leaned into you. “so what does that make you? ‘over here shoving your tongue down some random dude’s throat.”

you scoffed before rafe pressed into your windpipe, your eyes fluttering shut at the force. “you started it.” your voice barely came out above a whisper, a shiver running down your spine when you felt his breath fan against your cheek. “yeah? well, then i guess that means i should finish it too then, huh?” before you had a chance to get out some catty remark, he gripped the sides of your neck, dragging you over to the bed before pinning you down by your wrists. he took this time to examine your outfit closely, his nostrils flaring as your nipples were visible through the fabric.

“looks like you came here for the same reason i did,” he laughed, “what? you don’t got any panties on either?” you struggled against him, thrashing in his hold while your heel clad feet dangled off of the plush mattress. “why do you care? you’re not getting anything.” rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting as if you just proposed a challenge. taking one of his hands off of your wrists, you wasted no time in landing a slap across his cheek, the action only making him grow hard in his boxers. “the fuck was that supposed to do?” he laughed, “that’s just foreplay for me, baby.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes before you felt rafe’s hand slip underneath the waistband of your panties. all objections died in your throat when his fingers worked skillfully around your clit, your body jolting at the familiar stroke of his digits. you hated that you let him get to know you like the back of his hand. the man knew what it took to get you purring, your hips chasing his touch for more friction. “look at you, you’re so fucking easy.” you shoved his chest in a poor attempt to get him to back off, the action deemed useless as he took your hand and pressed kisses to your knuckles instead.

“i hate you.” you moaned. without warning, rafe slipped both his middle and ring finger inside your soaked entrance, your arousal contradicting your words. “hate me? it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it..” you cried out when he curled his digits, the tips of his fingers pressing against your sweet spot. it didn’t take long before you were trembling, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his wrist. one look up at rafe and you could see just how much he was enjoying this, the erection in his pants catching your attention. you decided right then and there you weren’t going to be the only one coming undone.

palming him through his jeans, rafe’s mouth opened as he let your other hand free, your dark gaze meeting his own before you were working him out of his pants. he gave you a little bit of leeway, allowing you to sit up just enough to be eye level with his throbbing cock before he ran his tip across your lips. “you know what to do with it, baby.” poking your tongue out, rafe groaned as you held him at the base, taking the first half of him between your lips. “see? this is what your mouth is for.. ‘it’s not for all that fucking attitude you give me.” he stroked the side of your cheek before cradling your head with both hands.

just as you rested your hands on his thighs, rafe tugged on the roots of your hair before forcing himself to hit the back of your throat. you whined, your nails digging into the denim of his jeans. asshole, you thought. rafe could see the combative look in your eyes, a knowing smirk gracing his lips before you swallowed around his length, drawing a hiss from the man above you. he continued dragging your mouth up and down his length until he was panting, his eyes rolling back the same way they did before he was going to shoot his load. pinching his side, rafe groaned as you pulled away with a gasp, slipping out from under him.

his cock was standing straight up against his stomach, your saliva running down the underside of it while his chest rose and fell with each breath. “you were just waiting to do that shit to me, weren’t you?” he stood up, kicking what was left of his jeans off of his ankles before wrapping a fist in your hair and slamming you against the wall. you yelped, a teasing grin taking over your features as he hiked your dress up, lifting you off of the floor with ease. rafe held you, his large palms squeezing the globes of your ass before slapping the flesh there harshly.

rafe leaned in to kiss you, his ego taking another hit when you moved your head to the side. “i’m about to fuck you stupid and you can’t even let me taste you?” he tsked, “is that really how you wanna be on valentine’s day?” you scoffed at his words, your eyebrows knitting together as he pulled your panties to the side. “you don’t even care about valentine’s day. you said it was corny, remember?” he ran his leaking tip between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt him nudge your sensitive bud. “yeah, i said a lot of shit, i know that, alright?” rafe grabbed your chin, forcing your head to stay in place, “but i want that to change.. ‘want things to be different between us.”

it was hard to deny him when he was sliding into you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he moaned in your ear. “you say that every single time..” you grumbled, your walls fluttering around the girth of him. rafe bit down on the sensitive part of your neck, a small gasp emitting from your mouth before he started rocking into you. “i mean it, though,” he grunted, “i want you back at home, at tanneyhill.” slowly but surely, rafe kissed up your jaw until you hesitantly gave in and let him take your lips with his. it was searing— the way your mouths melted into one was nothing short of addicting.

rafe’s hips slammed into your own with a precision that turned you into a puddle of nothing, your nails running along the back of his head as his chest pressed into yours. “you want me back home?” you bit his bottom lip, tugging on it until he cursed out loud. you ended up pulling a little too hard, a small bead of blood pooling in the indent you managed to make with your teeth. rafe was turned on out of his mind, his hips moving faster as he began thumbing at your clit. “fuck— yes, i need you back home. m’gettin tired of this stalking bullshit.” you giggled at the revelation, pulling him in for another kiss.

both of you moaned at the metallic taste on your tongues, your hand snaking down to fist his t-shirt. “prove it then.” that was all rafe needed to hear before he went all in, his thrusts growing rapid and hard— your head knocking against the wall behind you. your moans were so graphic, rafe couldn’t believe he lasted this long without hearing them. pretty soon, you were gasping for air, the band in your tummy snapping as rafe watched the way you lost yourself in his arms. you were so fucking pretty like this. swollen lips, heated skin, sparkly eyes and your now fucked up hair. you looked absolutely perfect.

having been denied an orgasm the first time, he had no idea how he hadn’t filled you with his seed yet, his climax just in arm’s reach. “please let me cum,” rafe pleaded, his abs constricting as the familiar heat began to simmer in the pit of his stomach, “i haven’t finished in fucking months.” you did a double take, your eyes widening slightly. “are you tapping out, ‘cameron?” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before burying his face in the curve of your neck. “are you really gonna make me say it?” your cunt was sucking him in like a vice, his eyes screwing shut as he started falling over the edge.

“of course i am. tell me i win before i unwrap my legs around your waist.” rafe gave in immediately, a pathetic ‘you win, you win, baby!’ was grunted into your flesh as you felt the hot ropes of his cum paint your insides. he stilled, his cock twitching until you took him for all that he had. rafe’s fingers dug into your skin, leaving crescents engraved in their wake. “shit.” he sighed, peppering your exposed chest with kisses. very gently, rafe carried you over to the bed where he adjusted your dress. “as much as i love the way this looks on you, you’re keeping this dress inside the house and that’s it.”

grabbing your phone, you opened your text thread with your best friend. rafe could hear the rapid clicking of your nails on your screen, his eyebrows knitting together as he pulled his jeans back on. “what are you doing?” he asked, craning his neck to steal a glance over your shoulder. “i’m just letting chanel know we didn’t kill each other.”

fair point.

[niwaart]

FAMILY WITHOUT LIGHT

[#part1 #part2 #part3]

Dick panicked, he gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

《This number is unreachable, please try again later.》

Dick let out a scream of anger and impatience, he had been trying to call Y/N for over 5 hours, just to get an answer. Why did she leave the house?… All this happened when he was in his Nightwing costume doing a normal nighttime mission after tying up criminals, a newspaper with Bruce’s picture caught his attention, Dick wondered what new drama the journalists were talking about this time, as soon as he grabbed the newspaper he felt like the air was being sucked out of him. It took him over a minute to process what was being said…

##Bruce Wayne and Y/N Wayne divorced after more than 15 years.##

No... that's a lie, just another rumor, it can't be true, maybe Bruce doesn't care about Y/N but Y/N wouldn't leave the house... after all he saw her love for Damian and Tim, and how she cared for them... so this is just a rumor... right?....

Dick took the newspaper with him and quickly ran to his apartment... He needed to make sure.. He had to get to his apartment to call Y/N.. She would tell him the truth, reassure him, tell him that everything was okay.... As soon as he got to his apartment window, he opened it and entered after entering the access code. His dog Haley approached him, he gave her a few pats before he reached his phone and called Y/N... But she didn't answer his calls.... He tried and tried and tried... But no answer... Could it be true?... Did Y/N leave the house?... Why?....

He was going to call Bruce but he was mad at him for not stopping Y/N from leaving and that he might be the reason Y/N left. So he decided to call Alfred who immediately answered, "Mr. Dick, how may I help you?" "Hello Alfred... Sorry to bother you now... The thing is... I..." Dick hesitated... He was afraid to hear the answer...

“I just called Y/N and she didn’t answer… so I was wondering if everything was okay…” Dick answered, praying with all his might that there was an excuse other than the divorce… “Oh… Mr. Dick… I don’t know how to tell you this… but… Y/N and Bruce have been divorced for three months now…” Alfred’s answer was like a knife slicing into his chest… well maybe deep down he knew the divorce was real… but… three months ago?… and no one told him?… “How… why?… why the divorce, and why didn’t anyone tell me?” Dick’s voice was muffled, he tried not to cry, he tried to control himself a little… “I’m sorry Mr. Dick… it was such a shock to everyone that I forgot to tell you… as for the divorce, Y/N chose that herself… unfortunately…” Alfred’s voice was filled with pain, making it even harder for Dick to hold back his tears… Y/N had left them… she had left them…

Dick hung up the phone after thanking Alfred and collapsed on the floor crying… His dog Haley was beside him trying to comfort him… But it didn’t work… It took Dick maybe half an hour to calm himself down… He tried to take deep breaths in and out… Then he hugged his dog Haley who had already settled happily in his lap. Dick was sitting on the floor leaning his head on the bed behind him while looking at the ceiling of his apartment. He couldn’t help but remember all the memories with Y/N. Dick may not have said it out loud before, but he considered Y/N as his mother… She always took care of him, he still remembers the first time he came to Wayne Manor after his parents died, he was full of anger and wanted revenge, Bruce was trying to channel his anger in a good way to fight the bad guys, but Y/N allowed him to vent his anger, by crying and getting all his feelings out and not holding them in, he remembers that he was mean to her at first, thinking that she was trying to be his mother, but after a while, it turned out that she was just trying to help him, she helped him decorate his parents' grave, buy new things, and when he fought with Bruce she took his side… and even now she still against Bruce and side with Damian, he loved the stories she told, she helped him and encouraged him to speak his mind and thoughts and not hold them in… even when he had a big fight with Bruce and decided to leave the house to be independent… She called him every night, asking him how he was, and if he tried to lie she would know and ask him to tell the truth, which he actually couldn't resistance, so he was always honest with her, Dick was used to being a leader and a good big brother, everyone depended on him… and Y/N was the one he could count on, she was the light of his life, she was family, until recently she used to call him and check on him, now he knew why she hadn't called in three months… He sighed and looked down to see that Haley was asleep, he picked her up and put her in her bed. Even if Y/N had left the house, she still loved them, he was sure, maybe if he went back to Gotham and talked to her he would understand, yeah, maybe she had left the house, but she wouldn't leave them, she still loved them. He was sure

In Gotham... specifically at Wayne Manor, Tim was suffering from a headache and back pain, he was lying in his bed... well maybe not his bed, but in Y/N's bed and room. His work and the pile of papers were almost competing with the towering mountains... when did paperwork become so stressful and tiring? He didn't remember this ever being a problem for him, he wouldn't lie to himself, he knew that Y/N's departure was the reason for the work to be doubled, the sleep to be less, and the pain to be more, Y/N used to do almost all the work for him, so he could rest, but now he couldn't balance his sleeping time, eating, doing all the work, solving cases, and becoming Red Robin, it was too much, Y/N was managing it so well, she did his work, made sure he ate and drank enough before she literally dragged him from the Batcave to the palace to sleep against his will, she always carried him like a baby, he always wondered how she could carry him so easily, okay he'd admit that when he first came to the palace he was a very skinny baby, but he grew up and became muscular, maybe not like Duck or Jason but he sure wasn't light, anyway that didn't concern him now... The problem here is that he hasn't slept in... two days? He doesn't know, maybe it's been three days... He hates that Y/N used to carry him to his room and stay by his side until he fell asleep, and he hated that she knew that sometimes he pretended to sleep, so she wouldn't leave until Tim was completely asleep... Sometimes Tim couldn't sleep easily, like when there was a mission or a case on his mind but Y/N carried him to his room before he could finish it, so he would complain and sometimes beg Y/N to finish the case, that it wouldn't take long, but Y/N always refused... And he couldn't sleep because of the case that consumed his mind, so Y/N would sometimes tell him stories... And it worked to make him sleep... He wondered if Y/N's stories were real, because they didn't seem imaginary at all, her stories were strangely realistic, to the point that all Tim's attention was only on the story until he fell asleep. And so Tim became forced to sleep because of Y/N, food and water, when he should take a break and when he should finish the case, Y/N was organizing his life, he didn't remember getting tired or exhausted from this organization, on the contrary, he was getting enough sleep and food to renew his energy, and even after he came back from his break he would come back with more energy and his solving of cases was at an amazingly higher rate than before, it was very useful, Y/N was the only one who knew how to organize him amazingly with all the work he had. But Y/N wasn't just organizing his life, she even hid his mistakes. Sometimes he would come back from missions with some wounds. Tim didn't like to say that he was injured, it made him weak, and he didn't want to be weak, but Y/N would discover every wound he had, even if it was hidden. The good thing was that she never told Bruce about the injuries, and if the injuries were serious, she would make an excuse for Tim not to go on the next mission. She would cover up all his failures and mistakes in silence... and he was grateful to her. He still remembered when Damian first came and took the Robin costume from him, she would comfort him and stay by his side and tell him that Robin wasn't the one wearing the costume, Robin was the one who protected the children of this city.

It really helped him… he remembered when he asked her advice about his new costume and name, and she encouraged him… she was proud of him, he saw it in her eyes, and when Batman disappeared and everyone thought he was dead and Dick was about to put him in Arkham, Y/N was the first to protest and the first to hit Dick… well that problem was solved a while ago and Y/N was so mad at Dick, it took Dick over three weeks to try to get her to forgive him… it was funny to Tim. She got mad for him. For him… he missed her… she was his whole life, now he couldn’t sleep or work, even his appetite was gone… he could barely survive on coffee now. That’s why he moved into her room a few weeks after she left, he wouldn’t say he slept well, but at least he did, now her scent, her warmth, even her voice and her look at him were gone. When he moved into her room he had a fight with Damian about it, that was the first and last fight they had since Y/N left. Damian wouldn't like it if Tim was the one taking over Y/N's room, and it was a long, tiring fight, in which Damian gave in for the first time ever, letting Tim sleep in Y/N's room. Tim knew very well why Damian was angry, that he missed Y/N too, Damian had changed dramatically after her departure, he barely spoke inside the house, and even on missions he didn't have the same enthusiasm as usual, and he didn't blame Damian for that, he missed her himself... but he had to thank his position as CEO of WE for that which helped him see Y/N a lot, he had multiple meetings with Y/N's family company under the pretext of resuming relations again, just to see Y/N, and one of the meetings was always cancelled due to circumstances, whether from his side or Y/N's, and the first meeting that finally happened was last night, and after more than three months he saw Y/N again, when she entered the meeting room she automatically patted him on the head and asked him how he was and that his appearance looked bad and he should eat and sleep well... Tim was silent, he felt a lump in his throat, if there weren't other people in the room he would have collapsed and hugged her and asked her to come back, but he remained silent looking down Trying to breathe slowly, after the meeting ended he wanted to catch up with her, and talk to her alone and tell her that he needed her back, he hadn't slept in a long time, but because of some old businessmen that Tim was planning to throw out who blocked his way with some questions, invitations and failed offers that caused Tim to be late to catch up with Y/N, but it's okay, he will have another meeting with her, and he will ask her to go home.

Tim sighed as he tried to sleep for the sixth time and was about to fall asleep this time but the knocking on the door woke him up. He grumbled and cursed under his breath at the person at the door unless that person was Alfred, Tim got up lazily and opened the door to be surprised by Damian standing at the door... "Oh? Damian? What's wrong?" Tim noticed Damian's eyes were puffy from crying, he wasn't surprised, ever since Y/N left Damian had been crying a lot, not that anyone would tell him that was obvious. "I want you to find me two people, they're from my school, and they call Y/N my aunt." Damian said calmly without any arrogance. Tim looked at him in confusion for a while, could it be that Damian was after Y/N now? "And before you say anything I know that you're trying to get Y/N back through the meetings you request from her family's company." Damian continued crossing his arms. Tim tensed for a moment, he didn't know that it was obvious, then sighed in surrender. "Okay, come in."

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[milokissa707]

Wow, you really did just say that half of the human population’s mental health does not matter. Never go around claiming yourself to be a mental health advocate please! And before somebody gets on my shit, this would so not be the thing to say if you did support men’s mental health and thought it mattered. Oh my dear Lord God, I pray that you never come near me. This is not even getting on the history of men’s mental health, why the existence of men’s mental health month is important. But know that you and this behavior are contributing reason why it is, I do honestly hope that makes you mad. 

We will give you pepes a little secret, this behavior(this being dismissing men’s mental health) only enforces the patriarchy!

Not only is this anti-sex work, and I’m pretty sure the person they’re responding to is a sex worker. I also feel like this is a rather misogynistic thing to say to another woman, obviously any male interest in her is solely about sex. Obviously she’s only saying this for male attention, not for actual care about people’s mental health

Let’s completely forgetting the existence of aesthetic attraction, let’s inherently sexualize the nude body! Wait, what do you mean that would technically count like a bunch of sculptures and a lot of pretty art, whaaaat. It’s kind of like hear me out nudity isn’t inherently sexual. Also legitimately let me tell you sex work has existed since the beginning of humanity, people of every gender and sex have done sex work. Sex work is real work!

This and porn is not inherently sexual for everybody, it isn’t for me, I like it because of aesthetic attraction, I think the nude body is beautiful and I like to appreciate it. Look at it, draw it, sing about it, and even dance with it. None of that has to do with my sexual attraction to it, because I assure you there is basically none!

But we also generalizing all men and males as sex feinds. Like Lord, forget that there are asexual men out there.

Anyways, if anybody needs to talk about mental health struggles, my DMS are always open. 

This was said and done really quickly. I might come back to this. I’m not fully satisfied with it. 

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ranking .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bf!bakugou x influencer!reader

⤿ yn asked bakugou to rank how mad or jealous he would get in different scenarios with different guys.

YN sat on the couch, phone in hand, ready to start recording. Bakugou was slouched beside her, arms crossed, already looking annoyed.

“We’re doing that TikTok trend,” she said, tilting the camera to include his face.

“Tch, what trend?” he asked, shooting her a sideways glance.

“The one where I give you scenarios, and you rank how mad or jealous you’d get if another guy did this to me. Ten means you’re fine with it, and one means you’re absolutely not okay.”

Bakugou’s eyebrow twitched. “This is stupid.”

“Come on, Kats,” she teased, nudging his arm. “Or are you scared?”

“Tch, fine. Whatever.” He glared at her. “Start already.”

A guy compliments her outfit.

“What if a guy told me I looked cute today?” YN asked, starting with something easy.

Bakugou shrugged but kept his gaze on the ceiling. “That’s a seven, I guess. I know you look cute; I don’t need some extra telling you.”

YN giggled. “Wow, okay. Confident much?”

He smirked but didn’t respond.

A guy offers her his jacket.

“Next one. What if it’s cold, and a guy offers me his jacket?”

Bakugou’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a scowl. “A three. Hell no. You’ve got me for that.” He paused, his voice dropping. “Why’s he acting like I wouldn’t take care of you?”

YN laughed quietly, already expecting his reaction.

A guy brushes her hair out of her face.

“What if a guy saw my hair in my face and brushed it back for me?”

Bakugou snapped his head toward her, eyes narrowing. “One. That’s a one. Who the hell does he think he is, touching you like that? That’s my job.”

YN burst into laughter, holding her stomach. “Oh my god, Kats, you’re so dramatic!”

“Dramatic?” he shot back, his voice rising. “You’re lucky I don’t hunt this imaginary guy down right now!”

A guy calls her ‘Princess.’

“Okay, last one,” YN said, trying to keep her composure. “What if a guy called me ‘Princess’?”

Bakugou froze, his expression darkening. He looked like he was about to explode. “That’s a zero. A negative one. No one gets to call you that but me.”

His response sent YN into another fit of laughter. “You’re so possessive, Kats!”

“And you’re annoying,” he muttered, crossing his arms and turning away, though the tips of his ears turned red.

“Aw, don’t be mad,” YN teased, resting her head on his shoulder.

Bakugou grumbled but didn’t move away. “You better not post this,” he warned.

YN smirked at the camera. “Too late.”

[theminecraftbee]

Pearl stops and stares once she gets to the front of the line at the Hermitopia Permit Office. She’s here to renew her ID, since she’s required to have a valid driver’s license for her mail carrier job she’s only recently moved here. Normal stuff, really. If it weren’t for the secret of why she’d actually moved to town, she’d have probably taken the license photo, filled out the paperwork, and left.

She is not here for a mail carrier job, and she can see things no one else in line can.

“I know, I know, I have a very beautiful face,” says the demon at the counter in the flattest affect Pearl has heard in her life. “Look, lady, there’s a line and I want to be on break, so if you’re going to sexually harass me or something can you hurry up and speedrun through doing it?“

She also doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“What?” she says.

“I mean, you’re staring at me awfully closely,” the demon says. “What am I supposed to assume? Surely you know that’s rude.”

“I’m not into men,” Pearl instantly lies for absolutely no reason.

“Okay? I don’t need to know that for your driver’s license?” the demon says.

“Right. Um,” Pearl says. She’s a little reluctant to hand the plastic sandwich bag she’d put her proof of address in over to a demon. If she’d just been a mail carrier and couldn’t See, it would be one thing, but she simply hadn’t been expected to come across the consequences of Hermitopia’s rumored hellmouth so immediately.

Or so…

The demon sighs again with an impressive amount of passive-aggression.

Pearl slides the documents to him. She watches as the demon gives everything several once-overs. He’s neither seemed to have noticed that she’s a psychic or that she’s a hunter. If anything, he seems to be trying his level best to avoid doing anything other than playing with several small desk nicknacks he has. One appears to be a magic eight ball shaped like a robot. Another appears to be a miniature game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Yet another appears to be some kind of controller for the painfully inoffensive music the permit office plays.

Frankly, they’re all almost as distracting as the eyes that cover every inch of the demon’s body that isn’t wearing the permit office uniform. The eyes glow, faint and unsettling. They move as though on a higher framerate than the universe, giving a strange, out-of-sync effect with the way the demon otherwise moves. They make Pearl’s heart pound.

Hermitopia Hellmouth. It’s real. It’s real.

The demon gives her paperwork back. “You’ll be mailed a new license at some point. Here’s the temp. Have a day or whatever.”

“Thanks, er…” She squints at his name tag. It’s in deliberately small font. “Grian?”

Grian waves her off. “If my boss gets mad I’ll tell him it’s your fault I’m not meeting KPIs. Go away.”

“Your boss must be tough,” Pearl says.

There is a long, eerie silence.

“Cub would have Stared back. I’m not paid to bother. Learn to shield better. Next.”

Pearl stands still for a beat too long before stepping out of line, clutching her temporary license in hand. The worst part is that she has to wait for the permanent one, and they’ll only mail it to the physical address she gave them. That’s the thing about government-issued IDs; they care where you physically are.

She breathes. The world’s been overwhelming since she’s learned to See, but her new organization has helped a lot. Now, she has an opportunity to help back, here in Hermitopia.

Pearl owes nothing less than her best, presuming the demons don’t come to the address they apparently have in the night, now that they know she’s here, and she knows they are. She shudders, deeply unsettled. She knows she will not sleep tonight.

(After all, for a moment—a single, horrifying, terrible moment—those hundreds of demonic eyes had seemed kind.)

[illarian-rambling]

I perceive all my ocs as good-looking, but then again I think most people are good-looking <3

Izjik probably isn't everyone's type - she's a butch woman with a strongman build and a wide sort of face. However, she is very much my type, I think she's gorgeous. Izjik is well aware of the sort of people (lesbians) she attracts.

Sepo is objectively attractive. He has a very symmetrical face and silky, wavy hair. The permanent "burn your house down" eyes don't do him any favors though... Which he's all the happier for. He didn't want to talk to you anyways.

Twenari is a cute kid but she also has resting arcane madness face, so notes of scary in there too. She's a teen with no social skills, so she's pretty insecure about how she looks.

Djek is hot in a twink way despite being straight. He doesn't take the best care of himself, so his buzzcut always looks kinda messy and he reeks of cheap cologne, but his skincare game is somehow immaculate. Djek is ok with everyone thinking he's gay, that just means he's dressing well.

Astra is damn hot. Maybe this is just me being gay, but she's got a wonderfully curvy body, her curls are bouncy and energetic, and she's got the most beautiful smile. Her vitiligo got her called ugly or diseased as a kid a fair bit, however, she thinks she's decent-looking no matter what.

Mashal is a cutie in robot or human form, idgaf. He's built with broad shoulders and a slim waist, and his fashion sense is very put-together. He does not think he's beautiful though, not even a little. Mashal would be shocked if he knew most people saw him as fairly attractive, metal body and all.

Ivander, with his illusion, looks like a cunty cartoon villain. Slicked back hair, goatee, the works. The blue skin and double pointed ears might throw some people, but I'd bet those piercings eyes would draw them right back in. Ivander paid a lot for a face as handsome as his illusion. Underneath it, he would call his true face hideous. The kinder word would simply be scarred.

Elsind, in their true form, is beautiful in a sea anemone kind of way. Their headfins wave in an invisible current, their mauve skin all but glowing with moisture. Though many would call them freakish, Elsind has long learned to love their changeling appearance. They would never want to be something other than what they are.

Avymere is a tough one, because while they've got great bone structure, they violate so many Skysheerian beauty standards. We here on Earth would think they look like if you smashed Legolas and Bayonetta into one person, but in Skysheer, there are a lot of mixed opinions on their tan, their short hair, and their wiry muscle. Avymere doesn't mind, as it serves the role they play: that of a kindhearted but ultimate dull noble too oblivious to follow a trend.

Faalgun is a dnd kobold basically. I don't think he's hot (if you do, more power to you) but I do think he's cool looking with his opalescent horns and blue scales. I also think he's adorable - he's got that cute snake puppy face. Most people in-universe also think he's adorable, which he despises. He's a grown man, he doesn't have time for that.

Nyda is a vision of a punk butch woman. She's got a face full of piercings, a green mohawk, and diy clothes. Her build is like a rock climber. I think she's hot as fuck, she thinks she's hot as fuck, most people think she's a little scary looking, but that's how she likes it.

Kaulakri is pretty in the exact opposite way of Nyda. She's got sleek hair, a practical sweater, and big dark eyes. Everything about her is soft and rounded except for her no-nonsense attitude. She honestly couldn't give a damn if she's pretty or not, she's got other stuff going on.

Pash is cute, if a little unsettling. It's mostly the red teeth and bits of fur that throw people. Other than that though, he looks like any other young bisexual man with a mullet. He likes being pretty, it let's him get away with more bullshit.

Anarac is mostly just rough looking. Dude looks tired before anything else. Even so, underneath that, he's got a kind smile, warm brown eyes, and broad shoulders. He was definitely a catch before the whole hive mind thing. If you cleaned him up a bit, he's a total dilf.

Do others perceive your OC as physically attractive? How does your OC feel about this?

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 10

Added dividers because I felt like the time skip/scene change would become confusing without any indication of it.

I really need an answer on how y'all feel about Immortal x Dupli-kate cuz depending on the popular opinion stuff will change 🤐 I'm willing to split a lot of people up for the drama and/or miscommunication nonsense

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 10 >>next(TBC)

Some place where the supernatural meets the normal, a little place called The Oblivion Bar, John Constantine simply sat shocked at the words he managed to hear and process through his mushed brain. Bobo closes his hung jaw, drinks his whiskey, and pats his friend’s shoulder as the man mumbles a sobering spell, cringing at the effects. “I should go. Good luck, John.” And so, the chimpanzee quickly makes his exit, leaving the Laughing Magician and Death of the Endless to their business.

“I need you to walk me through this again, luv- wasn’t quite paying attention.” Constantine shook his head as he fully turned to face the smiling entity. “You and who did what?!” He hissed, voice barely above a whisper as he tried not to bring attention to what they were saying. This was bad. Really bad.

“Lady Gotham and I took a liking to Batman’s youngest daughter and-“ John quickly interrupted her. “And gave her magical powers beyond my comprehension and immortality- yes, I heard that, did you?!” The man rubbed his face, the thought was making him want to get drunk until he dropped. ”Have you gone mad? Giving a mortal immortality is more of Dream’s style you should know better-“

Death only smiled at him, amusement filling her eyes as she gently laid a hand on his shoulder making him tense up. “She was lonely, she deserves every happiness those powers and eternity are bound to give her. You’ll understand once you see her.” And boy, did John laugh his gut out at that as he shook his finger. “No- no, no, no- there’s no way I insert myself into that mess- Bat’s family is already a mess and reeks of you without magic- No- There’s no way- that’s bonkers-“

Death gets up with a bright smile. “Thank you, John.” Her words make him stutter almost choking on his breath at the audacity. “Don’t thank me ya loon! I’m not going to help her, I’m not even going to see the moppet!” He can only yell and cuss as she leaves.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

 “Alright, Cecil-“ The old man immediately interrupted you, the little communication device in your ear buzzing with life as he told you to not use names. “… Dude… I’m miles in the air, first of all! Second, that was like a really common name once. it’ll take a while to find you specifically, and I doubt anyone could anyway- you seem like the type that would erase himself from the gov’s documents.”

“Anyway-“ You didn’t give him time to say anything else. “What house am I supposed to go to again? And why?”

The old man sighs at your antics, rubbing the side of his forehead as he feels the headache coming while he gives the address once more. “Your brother’s teacher, Mr. Hiles, has been the mall bomber. It took us a while, he was smart about it, kept his search into biological bomb-making off the internet but he wasn’t that thorough about his paper trail.”

“Be prepared for anything and a confrontation.” The older man cleared his throat. You always made him nervous; you were an unexpected equation in everything, something he couldn’t control without risking Earth. Donald and everyone else just took his weariness and suspicion as him being overly cautious, but Cecil could tell something was clinging to you that just gave him nightmares.

“And thank you- usually I would have sent someone from the Teen Team but…uh-“ His eyes followed the action on another screen. “They’re busy. Your brother and father are helping them.”

“You’re nervous. Yapping again. Chill, I’ll take care of it. Just because I don’t want to be your little puppet doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep people safe.” You found the man irritating, but for now, he was being sane, actually doing his job, so you couldn’t complain. “Getting closer to the target. Going dark.”  Was the only warning the man got before the com was powered off.

Finally ready to land you politely greeted the man, walking through the training both Cecil and Nolan provided at the start of your vigilantism. “I didn’t expect to get caught quite this early, and I certainly expected… more conventional authorities when the time did come.” Professor Hiles just sighs and welcomes you in by your birth name. “How did you-“

“Are you kidding me? Mark is unable to shut up about you. And you forget to wear your hood more times than you do wear it.” The man said as he took off his sweater. “Follow me, I’ll show you to the fourth missing student. I assure you, I have no intention of resisting.” Well… This was easier than expected.

As he started to confess about how he started doing this, he led you to his basement. “Mr. Hiles, while I understand the loss of a child to suicide, a divorce, and the loss of a job ruined you until you hit rock bottom, avenging your son like this-“

“I’m not avenging the death of my son. That would be far too cliché.” Your eyes landed on the teen strapped to the table once he turned on the light, breath hitching as you saw the skin of his arms merging sloppily with the metallic torso the professor modified. “It’s the destruction of my life that has me seeking revenge.”

“The domino effect of pain and sorrow that these monsters create. Children who spend too much time at the mall, attend parties, consume alcohol, and play sports when they should be studying and doing homework.”

“I understand your ire, I’m not one for parties or drunks, but not all kids who do that stuff go to extremes, that’s a flawed logic- it does not give you the right to play god and do-“ You tried to placate him, keeping your tone soft and even, to try and make him see reason. “What I did to all of them, turning them into living bombs, an instrument with which to exact my revenge… my crusade to end the pain and sorrow by these- ‘popular’ kids… I feel no guilt for.”

“I can’t think of a more appropriate end to my crusade-” Mr. Hiles ripped open the shirt he was wearing, revealing the same mechanism the unconscious teen had. “-than the death of a superhero!” You quickly acted, not letting him talk more beyond that as the timer set to 50 seconds started trickling down while you grabbed him, breaking through his ceilings and roof and flying high in the air.

“Is this really how you want to die? Suicide bomb? You still can make this right- you don’t have to die like this just tell me how to deactivate it!“ Your eyes remained on the clock. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen. The man just chuckled a dry, humorless laugh. “Do it. There is nothing for me anymore.” Five, four, three.

You couldn’t tell if what you felt was sorrow or shame, but you knew you were defeated. The man was going to get one final death, but it won’t be yours. As your flight came to a stop well above the clouds, you threw the man higher in front of you as the clock struck one second, and as it hit zero, the bomb detonated, the range and heat of the explosion destroying any remains while pushing you back a bit.

Your eyes remained on the cloud of smoke it created. If the cops found him before you did, the bomb would have wiped out the neighbors, too. That’s what hero life was, what it is. Sacrifices left and right that only made you feel more at odds with this job than before.

As you went back to the house, you activated the com, putting it back into your ear. Cecil immediately informs you that the police are en route as well as his clean-up team. “Get an explosive ordnance disposal technician, too. There is a teen in the basement, the bomb doesn’t seem active yet, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I’ll send a report of what happened soon.” You stayed until Cecil’s people showed up, just to be sure the boy was still breathing and that the bomb wouldn’t activate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Helping Brit and the other heroes clean up the rubble from the alien attack helped keep your mind off things. The Brit enjoyed talking about his kid and wife, yapping until he needed to take a breath and then starting again keeping a smile on your face.

You enjoyed helping clean up, especially when there were no casualties, today wasn't that type of day. But it had become the easy, relaxing part of the job, pick big rubble up, place it into the waste trucks, pick another piece up, make sure to not hit the man in the trench coat, put it in the waste- wait…

Your head snaps back to the man, squinting as your eyes meet. You each take a second to take each other in before your eyes widen in surprise. “Hello, luv. I’m-“ You couldn’t help your excitement as recognition finally settled into your brain. “I know you-“ Your words made John cringe and tense up. When others said that it never ended well for him. “You’re Johnny Con-Job, the lead singer for Mucous Membrane, dude, your band got me into the punk culture.”

That… wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of that or fight back the mental breakdown that was creeping up his spine. “You’re a bit young for that slop, no?” You just shrug. “Your songs got me to finally put myself first, to get the courage to sneak out, see other stuff beyond the walls of my first house, help others, and leave my neglectful family before they could seriously hurt me.” Her words worried him. John never took Bruce as the “lock his kids up” type, but the man was as paranoid as they came, he wouldn’t put that above him.

“It may be slop and shitty vocals, but it’s what I needed to hear.” You teased him while putting the rubble in the waste collector. He watched as you approached him with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. He could see what Death meant. “I need to talk to you. I’m not quite sure about what luv, but I think it’s about Batman-“ He didn’t get to finish, as soon as the name left his mouth, he was grabbed by the throat and lifted well above the clouds, way too close to the ozone layer. “Did he send you?” you hissed, giving his neck a warning squeeze.

Yup. He definitely saw what Death meant as your eyes glowed a Lazarus green. “Nno-“ He choked out. “Did Bruce Wayne send you?” her question was met with the same answer. Your grip softened, grabbing him by his coat instead of his neck as you brought him closer. “Then why are you here?”

“We need to talk in private…” He whispered as he realized the situation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This was a whole mess that John Constantine knew he should have stayed out of- he knew! From Bruce to the whole family basically ignoring the kid, not even telling her about the vigilantism, to the rogues taking her in and doing a better job of raising her to her running away and getting adopted by another hero- a hero that John knew wanted to conquer the world, the whole fucking race wanted to, the fucking demons had a problem with that and wouldn’t stop complaining to him like he can fix it- he takes a deep breath in. “Why are you telling me all of this?” He whined, rubbing his face as he sat on the edge of some skyscraper with you.

“I’m not hiding my past, I’ll happily snitch and tell a reporter that Bruce Wayne is a shit father, they all just assume I’m Nolan’s actual kid that was in the hospital for a deadly something or whatever.” You shrug. “Please don’t- not because I care about the bellend- I just don’t want to deal with… Huh. Now that I’m thinking about it, that may be great blackmail.” His words only made you snicker.

He didn’t know where to begin. Did she know about the Viltrumite? Was she in cahoots with him? Should he tell her any of that? Would she even believe his ass? Maybe he should get the JL involved...

The scruffy man shook his head. “Not why I’m here. You said your hero name is Sorceress? Great, so you know you have magic powers, that makes it easy-“ John took in your shocked expression. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, it never could be. “If this was another world, I’d call you crazy.” You told him simply. “But Midnight City is cursed, and I guess that makes sense… Is that why I can hear the shadows speak?”

John nodded before doing a double take, asking you to elaborate on the shadows speaking part.  “They just speak, whisper, giggle the whole thing. They can also emit what they feel. They’ve always been present, they’re not as strong here, but I think that’s because they’re more tied to Gotham and Midnight City… or just- where there is more darkness.”

“Well, you’re not far off there, love.” The man nodded in agreement as his eyes drifted to the dark dome around the cursed city. He knew where to start. “This is going to be a long explanation, you better strap in, hen, and let me finish before you ask questions.”

“You remember the painting and murals you made of gods and other entities, demons, angels, the whole sort, in Gotham and here? Yeah, they brought the attention to you from the entities you drew. Some of the moppets took them as a higher form of offering than others, a few of them decided to stick around you.”

“Those have also decided to- ‘bless’ you with a few gifts, I’m not sure of all of them, but I know specifically that Lady Gotham offered the shadows as a companion and protector, and I know that Death of the Endless has blessed you with… well, immortality.” There was no way of walking around that fact. “I don’t remember if any of these two also gave you your powers, I was quite sloshed, but someone did.” John looked at the kit, taking in her shocked expression before he nudged you a bit. “Come on, kid, say something. You got me all worried here.”

“It’s all just- a bit much.” You mumble. “Yeah, I get it. A lot for you to shoulder, but I’m sure you’ll power through- oh, thanks love… Wha- How-“ John’s eyes moved from the beer in his hands to the energy can you were looking at. You just shrug. "I wanted to know if I could, thought…” You narrow your eyes at the can in your hands. “I’m not sure if this is made out of thin air or just- teleported or something.”

Constantine just slowly looks back at his beer mug… She was taking this better than most. He hoped it was because the shock hadn’t worn off yet. Well, he’s had worse things in his mouth, he's sure, so with a shrug, he takes a sip, humming with delight at the taste, muttering something about this being real beer. “You’re here to help me, right? Like- with my powers… I- I think I need help with this whole worshipping gods and demons- entities- thing, too.”

He knew the easy way out would be to say no, to just leave, she had done just fine without him… But that isn’t what came out of his mouth. “Sure, poppet. Just keep on giving me this fine beer.” Given his track record with people and magic, he shouldn’t feel this accomplished at your happiness, but he was always quite selfish, so he returned your hug, even if he was a bit stiff.

“Now- usually the normal thing is to go from small stuff to big, teach the basics, but I’m not one for rules. Have you ever wanted to teleport via portals?” The big mischievous smile you gave him was all the answer he needed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You came home at the same time as Nolan and Mark, everyone’s first stop after greeting Debbie was their bedrooms to refresh themselves before going back to the dining area. “I’m going to be honest, Nolan, the longer hair and full beard fit you better than the silly mustache. Right, mom?” You couldn’t help the teasing as the whole family ate. Debbie looked at Nolan with a scrutinizing eye, before sighing and giving an amused smile. “I’ll definitely miss the beard.”

Mark snorted at the teasing as Nolan pouted, brows furrowing. “It’s not silly- it’s a rite of passage into manhood by the Viltrumite culture-“ you couldn’t help but interrupt. “It’s still a silly-looking mustache. What does the Viltrumite rite of passage for women look like?”

Nolan’s momentary displeasure at the mustache comment was overlooked as the inquiry about the Viltrumite women was brought forth. “Huh… I’m not sure, I never really paid attention to that. I think some cut their hair.” A puff of air escaped you in amusement before deciding to tease him some more. “Well, you clearly weren’t planning for a daughter that’s sure.”

Debbie just took in the chatter. She enjoyed the easy atmosphere, the laughter of her kids. “So, how was everyone’s day?” She asks once the chatter stops. “Oh, I met the Teen Team and helped them with the Flaxan attack, dad got kidnapped by them while I was trying to gather up survivors, made friends with Atom Eve, and met an alien called Allen who apparently got the wrong planet.” Mark shrugged.

“I spent the last eight months enslaved by an army from an alternative dimension, although it seems much less time has passed here. About a week ago, I led a revolt against my captors and regained control of my powers. Today, a team of scientists from the rebellion found a way to get me home.” Nolan lied as easily as he breathed.

“One of Mark’s teachers was turning his classmates into organic bombs in order to take revenge on kids he felt were like the ones who led his son to commit suicide. He turned himself into a bomb also and tried to take me out with him but clearly, it didn’t work in his favor. Helped clean up after the Flaxan mess, and met the lead singer of Mucous Membrane who apparently is a mage. He was here on behalf of Death herself to help me and tell me that my powers aren’t because I’m a meta, they’re magic. Oh, and also, I’m allegedly immortal.” You took a sip of water. “Lex also wants to know if anyone would be interested in attending one of his rich folk parties.”

At the quietness of the room, you lifted your eyes from your plate to look at everyone’s shocked glance. “What?” you ask with a mouth full of food.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That night, the teens wanted to sleep with their parents, both needing reassurance. Debbie and Mark were already gone, sleeping deep and peacefully. “Dad… You awake?” your question was whispered as your head lay on Deborah's shoulder. He answered with a warm hand squeezing your shoulder and a quiet hum. “...How do you move past people you can’t save or the people we have to sacrifice?”

Nolan wasn’t sure how to answer that, he’d never felt anything for the people he couldn’t save. He knew that if he had to save earth’s people or his kids and wife… Well… Earth can be populated again. “You look at the people who you did save. We can’t always save everyone, that’s the sad reality. It’s… painful. But it’s a truth all heroes have to come to terms with. Even I can’t save everyone.” Nolan wrapped his arms around his girls and son tighter, pulling everyone closer. “If all you could save was a person, you still did everything you could. If you couldn’t save anyone, you just have to keep your head high and try again.”

You snuggled closer into your mom, feeling her arm instinctively wrap around you as you draped yours over her and Nolan’s stomach, your fingers laying on Mark’s wrist. The sad reality of being a hero...

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

I'M REALLY SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEBODY- MY DOC SOMETIMES FORGETS TO SAVE AND I HAD TO READD PPL

[scoupsakakitty]

Please Don’t Leave Me pt.2 | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The phone buzzed against the car's dashboard, but the call went straight to voicemail—just like all the others before it. Mingyu let out a sharp exhale, gripping the steering wheel tightly before pressing the phone to his ear as the familiar automated message ended.

"Y/N, you're leaving me no choice," his voice was hoarse, exhausted. "I'm on my way to your dorm. I can’t keep waiting for you to answer. We need to talk. You can be mad at me, you can yell at me, but you can’t ignore me. Not anymore."

With that, he hung up and started the engine, his heart pounding against his ribs as he sped off towards the university. The rain drizzled lightly, the city lights blurring against his windshield, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by her. By them. By everything he was about to lose if he didn’t do something.

When he arrived, he parked haphazardly, not caring if he was in a student-only parking zone. He stepped out, pulling his hood up to shield himself, but it was useless. The moment he walked through campus, he could feel the weight of eyes on him. Whispered voices, subtle gasps—some had recognized him. But he didn't care. He had one goal.

Stopping in front of her dorm room, he knocked. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. "Y/N, open the damn door." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I'm not leaving until you do."

A few seconds passed, and then—

The door swung open so fast he barely had time to react before Y/N’s hand gripped his wrist and yanked him inside. She slammed the door shut behind him, her eyes wide with disbelief and frustration. "Are you insane? Showing up here like this? Now people will definitely know you’re here! And then you knock like that? Desperate much?" Her voice was laced with panic.

Mingyu took a deep breath, stepping closer. "You left me no other choice. If you had just picked up the phone, if you had answered even one of my thousand messages, I wouldn't have had to come here."

She crossed her arms, her expression hard. "I don’t have to answer just because you call."

His jaw clenched. "Then I have to show up."

Silence settled between them, heavy and unyielding. Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temple. "What do you want, Mingyu?"

His brows furrowed, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean, what do I want? Isn't it obvious? I want you. I want us. I can’t do this without you."

She scoffed, turning away. "Mingyu, wanting something doesn’t always mean you get to have it."

He ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration evident. "I talked to my management. I told them I want to go public with our relationship. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care about the fans who won’t support it. If they love me, they need to accept that I love you. That I can’t live without you."

Her breath hitched, but she remained silent.

"You’re not happy without me, Y/N. Just like I’m not happy without you. I know it. You know it. So why are we doing this?" His voice cracked, raw and pleading.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweatshirt. "Mingyu... the stress, the sasaengs, the threats—it’s too much. Even if we go public, that won’t change overnight. And you’re always traveling. I barely got to see you before, how will it be any different?"

"I’ll take you with me." His answer was immediate. "We’ll talk to your university. My management has connections—we can figure out a way for you to do your studies online. That way, you can be with me. I can protect you."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "I can’t afford online tuition, Mingyu. I can barely afford my fees as it is."

His heart ached at the helplessness in her voice. Slowly, gently, he reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "That’s what you’re worried about? Y/N, come on. How many times have I offered to pay for your tuition? Let me take care of you. Let me give you the life you deserve."

"I don’t want to be a burden to you," she whispered.

"You're not a burden. You're my life." His voice was thick with emotion. "Stop finding reasons for this not to work. I can and will fix everything, but I need you to fight with me. For us."

For a long moment, she just stared at him. At the exhaustion in his face, the desperation in his voice. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Like he was drowning.

Finally, she exhaled shakily, placing her hand over his chest, feeling the steady, desperate thump of his heart. "Okay... you’re right." Her voice broke. "I’m sorry, Mingyu. I’m so sorry for making us suffer like this. Please forgive me."

A choked sob of relief escaped him as he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. "You won’t regret this, I promise."

She let out a watery laugh as he peppered kisses all over her face—her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. "Mingyu, stop! You're acting like a puppy."

He grinned, setting her down but not letting go. "Now that I finally have you back, I’m never letting go again."

His eyes flickered around her room, taking it in for the first time in person. "So this is your room, huh? I’ve only seen it on FaceTime. Cozy. I like it."

She rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. "It’s small, but it’s mine."

"Not for long," he mused. "Once you start online classes, you’ll be moving out. Either to my dorm or, better yet, our own place. And when I’m on tour, you’ll stay with me. We’ll share hotel rooms, wake up together, fall asleep together. Doesn’t that sound perfect?"

Her heart swelled at the thought. "I always wanted to go on tour with you, to be honest."

Mingyu’s lips curled into a soft smile. "Then it’s settled. From now on, we’re always together. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more distance."

He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything. And I’ll spend every single day proving that to you."

Her heart melted as she whispered, "I love you too."

And as he kissed her, sealing their promise, she knew—this time, they were going to make it.

[gayowlsntitans]

No its a small portion that youre mad at cause you live such a sad life you cant handle other people simply existing.YOU have undermined freedom of speech by claiming the hate you post against them is fre speech, and then whining when you get called out for it. Freedom of speech is against the goverment,not from other people disagreeing with you.Scientific truth for years now has been on our side,its shwon trans women/men exist, that trans women are women, that their brains work the same as cis women. Why else would a majority of medical establisments be in support of us? No its not because they were forced to, they "bowed down" its because they know science and you dont, but you keep trying to act smart like you do. Wheres your dignity to Imane Khelif,Caster Semenya and the teen athletes you harass and accuse of being trans because they dont look "womanly" enough to you? You`re the ones killing trans people,not us killing you, the ones causing ireeversible damage, not HRT or transitioning which has been proven to be safe and effective considering less than 1-8% regret it and its reversible.

In 2022 more people favored protecting trans people from discrimination,And 46% favor making it illegal for health care professionals to provide someone younger than 18 with medical care for a gender transition (31% oppose).

You have not been defamed or fired for questioning it, yourre defamed for spreading lies and bigotry youve been told to harassing trans people over them existing leading to you getting fired and blasted, pronouns and arguing they exist.Youre the ones, way more than trans people harassing and threatening us then the other way around.Trans women get raped to, im sorry your so briandead you cant see that but they do, no penises would be in a womens restroom if trans women were there, just women. We talk about the far right bigots like you that have repeatedly call for their deaths, get the proud boys to a drag storytime or just an area where a trans person is to beat them up and kill them for being trans. Thats what you do.Youre the ones wanting women to become tradwives that actively takes away their rights, wants them to be housewives and stay at home like its the 50s again. Thats you taking away womens rights, now us. YOU taking away abortion rights, healthcare, its you. Its us wanting to just exist like humans should and live our lives! Everthing in this is about terfs, and everyone already knows how crazy you are with your ad hominem attacks,false equivalence and circular arguments. Thats why Rowling was called out and "cancelled" as you say. Because people learn how crazy she and all of you are and pointed out in her comments daily,protested her,because we know how big a danger she is and we know to call it out. Any sane person sees through the craziness you lot bring and call it out , thats why Trumps anti trans laws have been getting blocked and ignored because you`re clowns and we all know it.

[tayswife]

— written mine on my upper thigh

☆ glinda upland x elphaba thropp

☆ summary: glinda writes elphaba love notes while bored in class. it starts out innocent, until it becomes something that has elphaba squirming in her seat.

☆ warning: a whole lotta smut

☆ a/n: first time posting smut be nice im shyyy

"glinda, pay attention," elphaba whispered with a stern yet caring tone.

glinda sighed and pouted like an impatient child. "you don't care about my letter."

elphaba turned her head to the sad blonde that was really only faking her sadness to get elphaba to fold.

"glinda-"

"i wrote something really nice."

though out the entire class, glinda had been writing letters to her girlfriend beside her, simply because she was bored and wanting her attention.

elphaba sighed. she gave in quite quickly and opened the note. there were some doodles of hearts and such and then a tiny little paragraph written in cursive about how much she's loves her elphie and how pretty she thought she was.

elphaba would be sure to reciprocate it later but glinda was well aware that during class, her girlfriend was much so locked into the lesson.

glinda knew elphaba wasn't going to open another letter that she threw her way, so this time she wrote it on a bright pink sticky note in big bold letters reading, i need you so bad elphie.

glinda was a woman that said what she wanted straight up and got it. she was a spoiled girl and wasn't shy to say what's on her mind.

elphaba looked down and almost choked on her own dry mouth. the professor looked over at the witch and questioned her, "is there a problem, miss elphaba?" he asked seriously.

"no. sorry, dr dillamond."

the goat continued on with his lesson and elphie gave her girlfriend a serious look that told her she better stop or the consequences wouldn't be very lovely. glinda tried to suppress her laugh behind her hand as everything went down.

but she didn't stop there.

glinda let some minutes go by before she picked up her glittery pink pen and started writing again.

"i was aching for you all morning. thinking about your long fingers inside of me."

elphaba's breath hitched at this particular one and glinda just smirked at her. though, to glinda's dismay, elphie still ignored it. she'd give glinda all the attention she wanted later tonight but right now she had to focus.

however, it began to become hard for elphaba to pay attention to her professors words when there was a throbbing sensation just where glinda was trying to spark it.

as if glinda could read her mind, she placed her hand on elphaba's thigh, making the witch twitch at her touch.

"glinda..."

"shh, pay attention elphie," the blonde whispered, smirking at her with a mischievous glint in her eyes. she was up to no good.

elphaba listened. she payed attention. or at least, she pretended to so no wandering eyes would suspect anything. seconds passed by, glinda's hand slid further, and further, up elphaba's thigh until her fingers, ever so lightly, brushed against her center under her dress.

elphaba jumped out of her seat. everyone, including dr dillamond, looked at her with confused faces, only making her look more like an outcast and a freak than they already made her feel. she needed to play it up, to make an excuse for her sudden burst.

"dr dillamond, glinda's not feeling well. may i help her to the nurse?"

at her name being spoken, glinda stood right up, trying to force down her laugh as to not blow cover. "yes,” glinda said hoarsely and then fake coughed, "very very sick."

neither of them knew if anyone believed them, but their professor excused them for the day. frankly, he was probably just sick of dealing with their antics.

glinda skips down the hallway towards her and elphaba’s dorm with a bright smile on her face that would make anyone who saw her believe that she had just won the lottery or something of the sort. elphie speedily walked in suit behind her, trying her hardest to look mad at the blonde girl. she wasn’t great at acting like that anymore though.

“glinda,” elphaba said and the blonde finally stopped and turned towards her once they made it to their dorm. she put her back up against their door, leaning all her body weight against it, still looking as happy as a clam. “you’re ridiculous.”

“mhm kiss me,” glinda demanded, but didn’t give her a chance because she grabbed elphie by her shirt, pulling her closer and began to make out with her.

elphaba let herself get swept away, feeling drunk on the sweet flavor of glinda’s lips. she pulled away when clarity rushed back to her head. “not in the hallway for everyone to see.”

glinda rolled her eyes, “let them see,” glinda says carelessly. then she puts her mouth near elphaba’s ear and whispers, “let them see how horny you make me.”

elphaba nearly chokes as her throat suddenly feels dry. her face feels flushed and burning. she grabs glinda’s hand, moves her out of the ways and then pulls her into their dorm once she gets the door open.

there’s no time to spare. it feels like there’s some clock ticking down the time for both girls to get a release. elphaba’s the one to pull her into a kiss this time. they both move backwards as their lips combine into one.

glinda’s the one to start unzipping elphaba’s dress and then the green witch follows in suit to glinda. they pull away for a moment and let their dresses fall to the ground, leaving them both in a bra and panties.

they connect again. everything’s so hastily. and somewhere in between, they fall onto the bed. elphaba’s first and then glinda’s right on top of her, straddling her girlfriend.

“i need you to touch me. somewhere. anywhere,” glinda says needily, making direct eye contact with elphaba as she unclasp her own bra. she reveals her perky breast’s in her girlfriends face, implying that she needs to do something to her.

glinda leans back down to kiss the green lips and elphaba reached her hand up glinda’s body to squeeze her boobs, her thumb brushing over her rosy erect nipple which releases of string of moans out of glinda’s mouth.

“i can’t wait long,” glinda says, but her words seem to only come out as a mere whisper, loosing the power in her voice with each second that she isn’t getting off on elphie.

instead of elphaba assuring her that she’d get right to it, she, instead, puts her fingertips at the waistband of glinda’s baby pink colored panties and drags them down her legs. glinda lifts each leg up and shrugs them off until she’s completely bare above her girlfriend.

“can you be good for me now,” elphaba asks, now that she has glinda exactly where they both wanted her.

“you’ll have to find out,” glinda teasingly says with her typical playfulness and then grabs elphaba’s hand and guides it down to her center, making direct eye contact with her girlfriend as her hand presses against her most sensitive part.

“you’re so wet,” elphaba points out. “all for me.”

“all for you,” glinda confirms, breathlessly, “i’ve been like this all morning thinking about you.”

“then we shouldn’t make you wait much longer, should we?” right as she says it, she shoves two fingers between glinda’s wet folds and immediately gets to work by rubbing her swollen clit.

glinda nearly chokes on her on saliva at the sudden unexpected feeling of pleasure. her hand grabs onto elphaba’s toned arm, digging her fingernails into green skin, yet not hard enough to hurt her girl. if she did, elphaba didn’t even notice it because she was too focused on making her girlfriend feel good.

“i need you inside of me, elphie,” glinda says, needing even more than what she was getting.

“spoiled girl,” just then, elphaba slowly slides two slender fingers into her lover. glinda gasps and her head collapses onto elphaba’s neck. and it’s something not even elphaba nor glinda could deny; that blonde witch is completely spoiled 24/7 by everyone but not as much as she is when she’s getting fucked by elphaba.

glinda starts riding her fingers, grinding her hips back and forth. elphaba feels her entire body start to burn when she does this. someone must’ve just thrown a bucket of water on her, she thinks, because it couldn’t be possible for someone to make her burn like this.

“elphie,” glinda whimpers, feeling tears prick at her eyes after waiting so long for this sensation.

“i know,” elphaba coos. she takes her free hand and lightly scratched glinda’s back with it, making the blonde witch almost be sent over the edge.

glinda was extremely touchy with elphaba at all times and so whenever they were making love, glinda needed elphaba to be having some type of external contact with her whether that be hand holding, back scratching, or just running her fingers through her hair.

elphaba moved her thumb so she was simultaneously rubbing glinda’s clit while her two of her fingers pumped in and out of her.

“elphie, i’m so close,” she cried out, words muffled into elphaba’s neck.

“what do you need?” elphaba gently asked, despite how playful they both were just moments ago.

“my neck,” glinda said, “kiss it please.” she sounded so desperate as if elphie wouldn’t have done it. but she did. and her soft lips against her sensitive flesh was enough to finally push glinda over the edge.

“elphie!” glinda cried, louder than a boom of thunder. her body twitched and jerked harder onto elphaba’s hand.

“i’ve got you,” elphaba said in between kisses.

glinda rode her high, her eyes rolling back and she thought she saw oz for a moment. her body eventually stilled when the feeling of pleasure had washed away. her body laid lifeless on top of her girlfriend. her body burning hot and her chest rapidly moving up and down.

“are you okay, my sweet?” elphaba asked like always, even with the knowledge that her girl just needed to recover for a moment.

“mhm” glinda nodded against her neck.

they laid there for a few moments, one of elphaba’s hands scratching glinda’s back and the other still inside of her hence her being too sensitive to remove it just yet.

“you’re so pretty,” elphaba whispers to her girl, drawing a heart on glinda’s bare back with the tip of her nail. she kisses her pink-tinted cheek and it makes glinda blush and smile into her. elphaba can’t see her face, but she can feel her lips turn upwards against her neck, causing her to shiver. “can i take my fingers out, are you alright?”

“yes,” glinda says, and lets her eyes flutter shut as her girlfriend, very slowly, slides her fingers out, careful not to hurt her girl. elphaba then wipes her fingers against the sheets that they’re going to have to wash after anyways.

glinda, still not being finished with their activities, starts kissing elphaba’s neck in order to wordlessly let her know of that. elphie quickly catches on and lets out a content sigh at the feeling of buttery soft lips doing their work against her neck.

elphaba then grabs glinda by the waist and gently flips her over so glinda’s on the bottom now. glinda looks up at her with a soft smile and big lusty eyes. elphaba slithers down her body and leaves a couple of kisses on glinda’s tummy leading down to her core.

“mm your lips are so soft,” glinda says. she always says it but especially now; they feel like a soft melody against her throbbing skin. “i wanna feel them on me.”

“on where?” elphaba knows exactly where but she wants to push glinda just like she pushed elphie in class.

“elphie,” glinda whined in a displeased way.

“tell me where.” the witch raised an eyebrow at her, green eyes locked on her needy girlfriends face.

“elphaba thropp,” she sighed, but quickly realized she wasn’t going to get her way this time without using her words. “i need to feel your lips around my clit elphie, please. need it so bad.”

elphaba truly loved how, even after orgasming, glinda was still so needy for her. she never thought anyone would look at her in this light. let alone the pretty, blonde, popular girl.

finally, elphaba got to work. she started out by kissing glinda’s inner thighs that were slick with her own juices. taking her time on each one as to make glinda feel as loved as possible, and also as a way to work her up.

“i love you,” elphie says before going towards the main attraction.

glinda says it right back effortlessly and then elphaba reaches up and holds glinda’s hand.

elphie started off by sliding her tongue through glinda’s slit a couple of times to lap up her previous orgasms remnants, getting the girl to moan and twitch even more than when she used her fingers. it soon turned into elphaba’s lips wrapped around her clit and her tongue making circular movements around it.

it didn’t take much for glinda to be nearing her climax on the second round. “elphie i’m close,” she whimpered, her legs closing around elphaba’s head. elphie pried her legs back open with her hand that wasn’t holding onto glinda’s.

elphaba looked up at glinda from between her legs, seeing her eyes tightly screwed shut and her face turning a shade of red.

“you’ve got to breathe,” elphaba stops for her moment to say. something glinda always forgot to do when elphaba fucks her like this.

“i can’t,” she said, breathlessly, yearning to feels those lips between her legs again.

“yes you can. focus on breathing, in and out, or you’ll never get there.”

when glinda finally took a breath, elphaba attached her lips to glinda’s clit again, sucking harder than the last time which nearly erupted a scream in glinda. she was thanking Oz that people were hardly in the dormitory during the middle of the day.

more strings of moans and whimpers passed glinda’s lips. her release had hit her quite faster than the first time. her eyes rolled back and her toes curled. every muscle in her body contracted and then released until she was laying there panting.

elphaba came back up so she was face to face with her girlfriend. her lips were wet and puffy and glinda couldn’t help but grab her neck and pull her down into a kiss. glinda moaned, tasting herself on elphaba’s lips.

“you taste so sweet,” elphie said and then kissed her once more, “that’s all you.”

“mm, i wanna taste you now,” she whispered with a little smile, because those words were only for her elphie and she couldn’t risk wandering ears to hear it.

with elphaba still hovering on top of her, glinda’s hand slid down her toned green tummy and past the waistband of her black panties. after all the teasing she did in class, the least she could do was get right to the main course instead of making her girlfriend wait much longer.

glinda’s fingertips were suddenly on elphaba’s throbbing clit, and it happened so fast that elphie’s body jerked forward when she felt it. she let out a gasp, causing glinda to smirk at her. she loves getting her to be a complete mess under her own doing. she loves seeing elphaba finally let go.

“glinda,” she whispers with pleasure laced through her words. she’s typically much quieter than glinda who would scream if she were given the chance.

“mhm. say it louder,” glinda pushes her and presses harder and faster against her clit. she can feel a pulsing against her fingertips. a flower waiting to bloom. a volcano awaiting its eruption. “i wanna hear you scream my name.”

the faster glinda goes, the louder elphaba’s voice gets. she gulped down the knot in her throat as she neared her edge, “fuck glinda! soclose”

glinda smirked and removed her fingers, not remembering the last time she’s heard elphaba curse. the more she thinks of it, she has never heard her use that word.

“not yet,” she says and elphie wants to go and quarrel with her but glinda speaks again before her, “i want you to sit on my face.”

elphaba’s eyes widen when glinda suggests the position they have yet to try. the way she says it makes her ache for her further.

“i don’t want to suffocate you.”

“elphaba thropp, take these off,” she says, referring to the panties that’s glinda is tugging at, “and sit. on. my. face. if that’s the way i go out then i don’t want it any other way,” glinda says with a sudden sternness.

elphaba’s lower belly pools with heat. she can feel herself getting wetter by the second. her words are lost somewhere in her throat. she nods, submitting to the blonde girl in a way she never thought she would just weeks ago.

glinda smiles when she gets her way, pulling the black piece of cotton down toned green legs until they’re somewhere across the room with the rest of their clothing.

glinda lays completely flat, tapping elphaba’s thigh with her pointer finger as a signal to get on her face. elphie crawls closer until her thighs are on either side of glinda’s head.

she hovers over her face and all the blonde witch wants to do is pull her down on top of her. as much as elphaba wants to do this, glinda can sense her hesitation.

“it’s okay,” glinda says sweetly, her demeanor completely changed, “how about i tap your leg if im not okay down here?” she says to ease her anxieties, knowing she won’t ever have to even do that.

elphaba nods, feeling much better about it. glinda grabs elphaba’s hips and pulls her down until her vulva is directly on her mouth. glinda slides her warm wet tongue inside of her and elphaba’s head collapses onto the headboard at the pleasurable sensation.

elphaba lets out quiet whines of ecstasy as glinda continues her ministration’s of her tongue. the blonde witch lightly holds onto elphie’s hips as she thrusts them back in forth to imitate the way her tongue moves.

“feels really good,” elphaba mumbles.

glinda then dips her tongue inside elphie’s wet heat once again, getting her to let out a moan that comes from deep within her throat.

“i’m close.”

glinda speeds it up, impatient to feel and taste her girl’s release in her mouth. elphie’s legs start shaking and closing in on glinda’s head, yet she still doesn’t tap elphaba’s thigh to signal suffocation. she loves the feeling on being smothered by elphaba’s heat.

glinda presses her tongue against elphaba’s clit one last time and that is what unexpectedly brings her to her climax.

“oh my—” elphaba fails to finish what she was saying, being completely taking over by the feeling of complete pleasure.

when she catches her breath, she lifts one of her legs up to give glinda some air and lays down beside her.

“told you i’d be fine,” glinda says and taps her freckles green nose. elphaba giggles at her cuteness. “more than fine. did you like that?”

“yeah, actually, i did,” she answers honestly.

glinda smiles, 90% because she was happy she made her girl feel good, and the other 10% because it was another i told you so moment.

glinda yawned and cuddled closer to her girlfriend. elphaba wrapped her arms around glinda’s body and the blonde girl gently kissed elphaba’s chest before resting her head there.

“i’m so sleepy,” glinda mumbles.

“it’s 2pm, glinda.”

“mm,” she mumbles and says something that is entirely incoherent.

elphaba looks down and realizes that her girlfriend is completely asleep in her arms. so much for the rest of the classes they had that afternoon.

though maybe, just this once, her studies didn’t matter much to her.

[madebycloud]

If you want to, only if you want to

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: when your ex girlfriend thought you'd move on with another woman, she tried to ruin your "date." (request from @Snow0Knight0 on ao3) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, ex lovers, valentines, amusement park date, mordern au, jealous!jinx, isha's sister!reader, bible terms ig as a metaphors, pov switch words: 9.7k notes: kinda ooc jinx cz i think she'll go on a rampage if she's jealous 🤷‍♀️

You sit on a park bench, watching your little sister play with Jinx. Isha chases after Jinx in circles around the park while Jinx hides behind trees. You see Jinx pop her head out from behind a tree and make faces at your sister before ducking back behind the trunk. Isha giggles, then keeps running after her.

Your little sister can't wait to see Jinx again. After all, they had so much fun the last time they played together. But things aren't the same anymore because you and Jinx are no longer together. Though you can't say no to your little sister, so here you are.

Isha keeps on after Jinx, her legs running as fast as they can go. Jinx grins and sticks her tongue out as she runs backward. “You gotta keep up, kiddo!”

You pull out your phone to film your little sister. But right before you hit record, your phone starts ringing. It's your boss.

You look down at your phone screen, then back up at your little sister. She's still chasing after Jinx, giggling the whole time. You hesitate, then swipe to answer the call.

—

“Yeah, I'm free next week.”

Jinx stops running, suddenly curious about your conversation. She slows down and looks over your way, trying to hear what you're saying.

Isha looks confused, her face scrunched up in a frown. She glances up at Jinx, then back to you.

“Okay, I'll see you next Friday then.”

Next friday? As in on valentine's day? Why are you making plans with someone else on one of the biggest couples holidays there is?

Jinx narrows her eyes at you. She can see the phone up to your ear. Who are you talking to? why are you planning to do something with someone else on valentine's day? 

Isha tugs at Jinx's hand, wanting to continue playing. But Jinx is too preoccupied to pay attention to your little sister right now.

Jinx turns to Isha, her attention still partly on you. She squints her eyes. “Hey, listen, kiddo.”

Isha cocks her head to the side, curious why Jinx isn't playing with her anymore.

Jinx lowers her voice to a hush and whispers so that only Isha can hear. “Do you know if your sister already has a girlfriend or something?”

Isha just shrugs. She doesn't know. She doesn't really care about her sister's love life, at least not as much as Jinx does. Though she remembers you and Jinx dating, and she knows you've broken up. But all that matters now is that she plays with her favorite people, like you and Jinx.

Jinx frowns, not happy with the lack of answer she's getting from your little sister. 

She's not mad... at least, not right now. She's still not sure if the person you were talking to was a girl or not, or if you two really had something going on for you to make such plans. But the thought of you spending that day with anyone but her is bothering her.

To be clear, Jinx isn't like… jealous or anything. She's just curious. Yeah, just curious. To know why you're talking to someone on the phone and what they want with you, specifically on a day like that.

Still, Jinx tries to shrug it off. You do have your own life. You're not together anymore.

She doesn't care. She doesn't care if you spend a stupid holiday with someone. She doesn't even care that you two aren't together anymore. You have every right to make plans with someone else. She can't be mad... nope, definitely not mad at all.

She looks down at your sister, who's still standing there, staring up at her expectantly. She remembers that she's supposed to be playing with her. 

Jinx tries to smile at your little sister. It's forced, though. She decides to put her focus back on the kid in front of her. She can't spend her time worrying or getting upset over you and your weird phone call. Nah, it's better to focus on the little one in front of her. Playing with her is much better than worrying about you. Definitely.

“So…” Jinx starts. “Still wanna play tag?”

—

A few days later, Jinx still can't shake the thought. She knows she shouldn't care... but that doesn't stop the thought from being there. That doesn't stop it from thinking about you with someone else. 

She needs to know who you're seeing. She needs to know who you're going to spend Valentine's day with.

So, she keeps trying to get more information from your little sister, whenever and however she can.

One day, Jinx finally gets the information she's been looking for. 

And now, she's standing outside a cafe. Jinx sees you through the window, talking to someone. She watches as you laugh at something this woman says. She can't see who it is. She can't hear whatever the conversation you're having. But she can see you laughing, and that... that makes her stomach churn.

She's seen you happy before. But there's just something about the way you're laughing with this woman. It's making her feel... something.

Wait.

Is she jealous?

No, that's just stupid. She just wants to know who you're talking with. Yup. That's all. She just wants to know who you're seeing. She's not jealous.

Jinx steps inside the cafe, the bell above the door jingling. Her eyes are locked on you, not even twitching an inch. She's so focused on you that she's not even paying attention to anything else. Not even the barista trying to ask her what she wants to order.

“Um... ma'am?” the barista tries again.

Jinx finally snaps out of it, turning her attention toward the barista. She realizes that she probably looked weird, just staring at you like that.

She blinks once, twice, before she answers. “Uh…” She looks back at you, and then back at the barista. “Oh... um... yeah. Can I get a…” Jinx looks at the menu. “A caramel mocha, or something…”

The barista nods, not minding Jinx's sudden zoning out. “Sure thing. And just so you know-” they continue, as they start preparing her order. “We have a discount for couples, especially since it's Valentine's today.”

Oh?

Jinx's eyes dart back to you, and she starts to put two and two together. Couples? Discount? Does that mean you and that woman are…

—

“Hahaha… yeah.” You force out a laugh, feeling awkward. Free food. Yeah, free food is good.

You don't have work today, thanks to your boss who's sitting in front of you.

Spending Valentine's day with your boss of all people and…

Ugh.

It's not a date. It's just a meeting. Just a meeting that your boss decided to have on valentine's day. 

You're sitting across from your boss, forcing out a laugh as she talks about… about-

Wait. What was she talking about? you were too busy thinking about the fact that you were in a valentine's meeting with your boss that you didn't pay attention to the actual conversation.

“I must say,” your boss chimes in with a smile, taking a sip of her coffee. “I'm quite impressed with your recent work.”

You force a smile back. “Oh, um… thank you, ma'am.”

Your boss nods. “In fact-” your boss continues, but their voice starts to fade out. Why? Because…

Your attention suddenly drifts towards the door. The bell jingles as someone new walks in.

You're not sure why... but you feel the sudden urge to look at whoever has just walked in. Is it... is it a feeling? a weird feeling?

“Promotion”

What?

Did you just hear your boss say... promotion?

The noise in the cafe suddenly dies out. You're no longer listening to the sound of coffee being brewed, or the barista taking orders, or the hum of conversation.

Your focus is on the one word you just heard.

Promotion.

“Promotion?” you repeat. As in, a pay raise. As in, even more responsibilities. As in-

“Yes.” She puts her coffee down. “You've been an excellent employee. You're diligent, focused, and always go the extra mile.”

Just before she can get another word out, something happens. Just when everything seems to be going right with those precious words “promotion,” something just HAS to happen.

Accidents happen, right?

Except this one is a really big accident.

Because some idiot accidentally spilled a hot, caramel mocha with a mountain of whipped cream all over your boss's shirt.

“What the-” your boss's eyes widen when she sees the ruined blouse that she's wearing. “Who on earth-”

“Oh god. I'm so, so sorry.” The idiot who caused this whole mess apologizes, stepping closer to your boss.

Wait-

There's something about that voice...

Why does it sound so familiar?

Your head turns slowly toward the source of the voice.

Your ex.

Jinx.

JINX?!

What is she doing here?!

“Again, I'm so sorry.” Jinx repeats herself as she tries to fix the mess, grabbing some napkins from the table and using them to soak up the mess on your boss's shirt. “I didn't mean to-” Her head suddenly turns in your direction.

Why is she... why is she here? she already spent time with your little sister last week, what could she possibly want-

“Oh-” your boss interrupts, noticing the way Jinx looks at you, or the way you're looking at Jinx. “You two... know each other?”

Shit. 

This is going to be awkward. 

“Uh…” You look over at Jinx. She's still staring at you with that look on her face. Why does she look like that? Is she trying to tell you something? “We're just old friends.”

You cringe at the words. Friends isn't the right word to use, but you know you had to say something. You couldn't just say, “Oh yeah, she's my ex and I don't know what the hell she's doing here.” There's no way you're saying that in front of your boss.

Then you notice the way Jinx clenches her jaw, just subtly. You know that look on her face. The one where she's trying to hold something back. Not that she's going to explode or anything, it's just... the expression tells you that she has something to say.

And she looks pissed.

Why is she pissed? You didn't say anything wrong. You aren't together anymore, right? So shouldn't everything be fine?

But that doesn't matter now because you have bigger problems to deal with. Like how Jinx just spilled a freshly brewed, steaming hot coffee full of sugar and cream all over your boss's blouse.

“Yep.” Jinx affirms with a nod. “We're just old, good friends.”

Your boss looks between the two of you. Then, she takes a napkin and dabs some of the excess, creamy liquid off.

You stand there, waiting for the moment when your boss will explode. That she'll get extremely mad at the woman who has just ruined her blouse (which cost probably double of your salary) and demand compensation.

But-

Your boss just sighs.

“How... unfortunate.” She murmurs, looking down at her blouse.

That's it?

Why isn't she asking for compensation? or demanding an apology? or an explanation? or whatever else one would demand in this kind of situation?

“Don't worry about it.” Your boss reassures. “It was just an unfortunate accident.” She smiles at Jinx and then places the stained, crumpled up napkin onto the table. “I'm just... out of luck, because I don't have a spare blouse to change.”

—

Jinx didn't expect that.

She thought she'd get chewed out by your ‘girlfriend’ for ruining her expensive shirt, have to pay for it, or something similar. But instead, she just walked over to the shop across the street, picked out an expensive replacement for the ruined shirt, paid for it, and then went into the changing room to try it on.

Now, you and Jinx are just sitting next to each other on a white leather couch, close enough that your thighs almost brush, but far enough that you have enough space to not actually touch.

Her foot is tapping impatiently against the tiled floor. She's staring at the side of your head, trying to catch your attention. Your eyes are glued on a random painting on the wall across from the couch.

It's quiet and uncomfortable.

She remembers how many times in the past you and her would sit on a couch like this. In her place, in your place, it didn't matter.

She'd be snuggled up next to you, sitting on your lap, and you'd have an arm around her waist, or she'd place your hand on her thigh, or her hand on the back of your neck, or she would be playing with your hair.

But now, she's keeping both hands to herself, and it feels... wrong. Like something is missing.

“So…” Jinx drawls, the tapping of her foot stops. “You and your d-” She barely gets the word out before you interrupt her. 

“What are you doing here-” you turn to face her, and the words just kind of blurt out of you, “-I mean, why are you-”

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? I was at the cafe.”

“Why were you in the cafe?”

“What?”

“Did you know that I was going to be there?”

“No,” she lies. “Why do you think I went to the cafe? Do you think I'm stalking you or something?”

“Are you?”

“What?!” Jinx throws her hands up in frustration. “Since when do I stalk people?”

You give her a look, one that says, ‘really?’

“Don't look at me like that! I've never stalked anyone in my life. Ever.” She huffs. “I was just... doing my own thing. I just happened to be there. In the same place. At the same time. That's all. A coincidence.” Jinx pauses, realizing her own words, how it sounds, and how she sounded. She then looks at you, eyes tracing over your face, before she suddenly looks away. “Anyway,” she says, “you and that woman... are you two a thing?” she asks, trying to change the topic.

“Why do you care?”

Why does she care?

She doesn't.

She shouldn't.

She can't care.

She has no right to care.

She left you. She pushed you away. She can't care anymore, because that would make her a hypocrite, to push you away but care for you at the same time.

She's supposed to be moving on. That's what she was supposed to do.

But why does she still feel like this?

Why does her heart ache? Why does it ache because she's sitting right next to you, and she can't do anything but keep her hands to herself? Why does it ache because your shoulders are only an inch away from touching? Why can't you just touch each other again? Why do just a few inches feel so... lonely?

She's supposed to be over you. It's been months.

Months!

She doesn't understand why she still feels this way. She tries to date other people, but none of them compare to you.

And that's not fair.

It's not fair because she keeps comparing everything about them to how you used to be.

She compares the color of their outfit to yours, she compares the way they walk to yours, she compares the sound of their voice to yours.

Her mind keeps finding little things in them that remind her of you.

How their hands feel too rough. How their smiles are too forced. How their eyes never lit up like yours did. How their hugs didn't feel right. How they never seemed to get her the way you did.

It's all wrong.

Because they're not you. No one could compare to you.

She tries to convince herself that she's over you, that she doesn't care, that she doesn't miss you. That the fact that you've found someone else shouldn't bother her at all, that she's totally fine with the fact that you've clearly given your attention to someone else. That she has no right to be jealous, no right to be like this.

So she repeats the same thing she's been telling herself for months.

“I don't care,” she lies to herself and lies to you. Her eyes darts to your hand, close enough for her to take if she reached out her own hand. “It doesn't bother me.”

“Of course it doesn't.” You scoff. “It has nothing to do with you.”

It has something to do with her.

Before she can say anything else, the changing room door opens, and the woman walks out wearing a new black and white blouse.

“Ah, much better.” The woman looks at herself, smoothing out the wrinkles on the fabric. She turns her attention to you. “What do you think?” She smiles. “Looks better, doesn't it?”

Jinx glares at her. That woman looks dumb in the stupid white and black blouse, which somehow manages to look cheaper than the previous blouse even though it probably cost more.

“Yeah.” You force yourself to look away from Jinx, standing up from the couch. “It looks good.”

Jinx grinds her teeth, standing up as well. The way you speak to her like that, it... annoys her. It makes her want to do something petty.

“Glad you think so,” she continues, adjusting the collar. “At least this is presentable. Unlike my previous blouse, which is now... coffee-stained.”

Jinx smirks at that. But her smirk quickly disappears when the woman turns to look at her.

“Speaking of that,” the woman says, her eyes locking onto Jinx. “I don't believe we've had a proper introduction. I'm Cassandra. Cassandra Kiramman. What's your name?”

“Uh…”

“Don't be shy,” she says, in a tone that could be perceived the wrong way, and it grates on Jinx's already thin temper. “I just thought we should greet each other properly, especially after the… earlier accident.”

“Jinx,” she replies. “Just Jinx.”

“Jinx,” the woman repeats. “Interesting name.”

“Better than your boring name,” Jinx mutters.

You elbow her side. Jinx holds back a grimace.

“What was that?” The woman's brow quirks.

“Nothing,” Jinx lies. “Just…” She looks down at the woman's designer heels. “I was just admiring your heels.”

“Oh.” The woman looks down at her heels as well, raising one foot up to show them off. “I got them at the same store I bought this outfit.”

Jinx snorts. “Cheap.”

The woman either doesn't hear what Jinx just said or she just ignores it. Instead, she holds out her hand, and Jinx stares down at it.

“It's nice to meet you, Jinx,” the woman says, still holding out her hand. “I hope we-”

You nudge Jinx. “Be nice,” you whisper.

Jinx scoffs but begrudgingly reaches out and grips the woman's hand. “Likewise.” She forces a smile onto her face.

The woman's hand feels too soft. Jinx could break her with her bare hands if she wants to. Which she is very much considering.

“I'm glad that's settled then.” She lets go of Jinx's hand, and Jinx wipes it on her pants, trying to rid that weird feeling off her skin. Everything about her just makes her sick. Even her name, Cassandra, makes her want to hurl.

The woman starts to walk towards the counter. “I'll just... go pay for this.”

“Sure.” You say, watching her walk away.

—

After your boss pays for her overpriced blouse at the register, she pulls you outside, away from Jinx, who stands several feet away. Jinx can see you talking to her, but she can't hear what you're saying. 

“About that promotion…” your boss starts. “Your name is still in the running for consideration, however, we're still going to be discussing it before making any final decisions.”

“Since my name was mentioned?” you repeat, “so there are already some possible employees they're considering?”

“Yes,” she says, looking at you with a stern and serious face. “The only problem being…”

“...being?” you prompt.

“How do I put this?” Your boss clears her throat. “Your performance has been excellent, to say the least. You've always exceeded our expectations and more, and your skills have certainly improved over the years.”

Your confidence rises a bit. “But?”

“But,” your boss continues, “the decision isn't solely based on your performance.”

“How so?” you probe. “It's always based on performance, right?”

“Not in this case,” your boss explains. “In regard to the promotion, the decision is up to the board members.”

The board members? Up until this point, you had assumed that the decision was made by the managers, but you guess it makes sense, since you're dealing with a large company.

“You mean the... big guys? The ones who are…”

“Rich, wealthy, snobby?” Your boss completes your sentence for you. Smirk forms on her lips, as if the board annoys her as well.

“Ahh... and that could be bad…?”

Your boss pauses for a moment, then, “...yes.”

“Why?”

“Because the board is a bit finicky.” She sighs. “They're not one to make decisions easily, and they've always had this... habit of arguing over even the most trivial affairs.”

“So… it’s not looking good for me then?”

“Don't say that,” your boss says. “It's not looking terrible for you.”

“I see.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “Wait, does that mean I have to impress the board members?”

“Yes, that's exactly it.” Your boss agrees. “The members are picky, so to speak.”

Figures. Of course the rich assholes are picky bastards.

Your boss gives your shoulders a reassuring pat before returning her hand to her side. “Just-” she glances over your shoulder towards Jinx, “-try not to worry about it, alright? It's out of your control.”

Jinx continues to glare at the woman. Your boss leans in to whisper, “Your friend-” she nods at Jinx “-doesn't seem to like me very much.”

You follow her gaze. 

Jinx notices the two of you staring and suddenly finds great interest in a nearby pigeon pecking at the ground.

“Yeah…” you reply, laughing nervously.

Your boss chuckles, turning to you again. “Anyway, I've got to run. But don't bother coming to work today. You have the day off so-” She gives you a smile and glances towards Jinx, “-spend the rest of your Valentine's day... with her.”

“Oh no, we're not-”

“Don't give me that.” She cuts you off. “I'm not naive, okay? I'm not stupid. I know you two are a thing. It's obvious.”

“Was.” You correct her.

Your boss doesn't seem to care much about the correction. She doesn't react at all. No surprise, no shock, no disappointment. “Was, is, who cares?” 

Huh. What is this woman talking about? “Excuse me?”

Your boss ignores your confused look. “The point is, the two of you have something. Something that still hasn't faded.” She motions at Jinx, who's still busy watching a pigeon pick at some bread crumbs on the ground. “I'd better get going. Take the day off for yourself. And…” She gives you a knowing look. “Figure things out.”

With that, your boss turns around and waves to you before walking away. You watch her go, dumbfounded and confused. Is she right? Does Jinx still have feelings for you?

—

Jinx hates the way the woman pulls you outside, she hates the way the woman lays her hand on your shoulder, she hates the way the woman leans into you to whisper something that Jinx hates because she couldn't hear what the two of you were talking about. When the two of you catch her looking, she suddenly looks away.

She hears you laugh. It's the most beautiful sound she's ever heard, but it's the fact that you're laughing with someone else that pisses her off. 

She focuses her attention on the bird pecking at the ground.

That's right. 

Focus on the bird, not the sound of your laughter. Ignore the way the woman keeps her hand on your shoulder. Don't pay any attention to the way the two of you are talking. 

Just focus on the bird. Nothing but the bird.

She could turn and leave right now if she wanted to. Nobody's forcing her to stay. She doesn't even know why she stuck around and followed you and the woman into this shop in the first place. But she wants to stay. She wants to stay because you're here. Because of you.

This is ridiculous.

It's none of her business. You two aren't together anymore. You're not her responsibility. You're not her issue to deal with. She's free to do whatever and whoever she wants.

She hears footsteps getting closer to her, and she turns her head to see you coming over. She looks around, noticing the woman is gone.

“Did you bid your farewells to your girlfriend yet?” she asks curtly.

“She's not my girlfriend,” you reply, walking to her side.

“Oh…” She turns back to the pigeon but finds it has flown away, leaving a few bread crumbs on the ground. She's left with nothing to focus her attention on aside from you. “Then what is she?”

It's a stupid question, but she asks it anyway. It's not like she's entitled to your intimate details. 

“She's just my boss.”

She lets out a sigh. Is it a sigh of relief? Maybe.

“You know… you've been glaring at me the whole time,” you continue.

She snorts. “That's just because your face is irritating to look at, nothing else."

“Oh, I'm sure that's the only reason.”

No, it's not just the only reason.

“So what is it then, huh?” she asks, irritated. “Is she flirting with you?”

“No.”

“She laid her hand on your shoulder, didn't she?”

“Is that what you're worked up about? That she laid her hand on my shoulder?”

“Why did she do that anyways?”

“It's no big deal, she's just-”

Jinx interrupts you. “Why did she do it? what compelled her to touch you like that? It's not very appropriate for your boss to be physically affectionate towards you.”

“Since when were you a stickler for rules and appropriate conduct?” 

“I'm not.” 

“Then why are you so worked up about a simple touch?”

“Because it's not just a simple touch.”

“What? So now you're the authority on what a simple touch looks like?”

“I know a lust driven touch when I see one.”

“Lust driven? What are you, insane?”

“I'm not insane,” Jinx grumbles. “I know the difference between an innocent touch and a not-so-innocent touch.”

“Not-so-innocent? Seriously, Jinx. What are you—do you think my boss has a thing for me?”

“Don't be dense. It's obvious that she has the hots for you.”

“Jinx, she's married. Didn't you see that ring on her finger?”

That makes Jinx pause.

A ring?

Huh... she didn't notice it.

Had she really been so focused on you that she hadn't noticed?

“And married people can't want anyone else? you'd be pretty blind if you think married people can't have crushes, or feelings, or affairs... oh god, is she having an affair with you?”

“What?! No, she's not-” You facepalm. “What in the world would make you think that my boss, who's happily married by the way, would be cheating on her husband with me? That's fucking insane!” You pause, suddenly realizing something. “...wait a minute?”

“What?”

“Earlier today... the spilled drink. That was on purpose, wasn't it?!”

She remains silent.

“You're jealous,” you state.

“What? Jealous? That's bullshit.” Her face heats up. She's a terrible liar, isn't she?

“Then why are you so bothered by the fact that my boss-”

“Because you're mine!”

And there it is. This is what she wanted to hide. Her jealousy, her possessiveness, her attachment to you.

The words slip out before she can even think, and they're so loud and so clear that anyone within a few meters could've heard them. There was no plan, no filter, no hesitation. Just the words that spill out from her mouth before her brain could catch up.

What is she even saying? You're not hers. Why did she say that? She didn't mean it. She has to backtrack, change the subject, anything, just don't look like a blubbering idiot.

“I'm-” She turns away from you. “You're-” She covers her face with her hands and groans.

How pathetic.

Why did she just say that?!

She'll just laugh it off, right? Just say haha, kidding, no hard feelings, we can be friends... right?!

You rub your forehead and shake your head. “Jinx... even if my boss had any feelings for me, which she doesn't, but even if she did-”

The thought of you being with anyone else is driving Jinx completely crazy.

She can't bear to even imagine the thought of you being with someone else or your boss. She's already picturing it in her mind, the both of you together, laughing, smiling, happy, while you're wrapped around your boss like a dog. Your boss is so rich and successful and could provide you with everything you could ever want. And what could Jinx offer you?

Jinx turns to you, dropping her hand from her face. “Why WOULDN'T you be interested in her? She's got it all, for fuck's sake! She's pretty, she's nice, she's independent, she's successful… she's everything any guy or girl would want. What's not to like?”

“Because she's not you!”

“Pfft! Of course she's not me!” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “She's got everything going for her. She's put together, mature, not a total mess-” her mind goes blank when she realizes what you'd said. “...wait. What did you say?”

“She's not you.”

Jinx opens her mouth to argue, then suddenly closes it. She looks away, biting her lip, refusing to look at whatever expression you have right now. 

Why?

You shouldn't have said that. You shouldn't have said something like that.

Don't you realize this is only going to make things harder... and better?

—

Jinx isn't saying anything. You both are just... standing there in silence. People are passing by, couples holding hands, friends laughing and talking.

Your boss' words are still ringing in your ear. Figure things out.

You glance to the side, at the brick wall, and at the clock on the building. The second hand is ticking away. “We still have time,” you say, and you feel Jinx look at you.

“Time for what?”

“My sister isn't out of school yet, so…” You clear your throat. “I heard there's a new amusement park that just opened up nearby. Would you…”

Would you like to be my valentine? The words hang in your head, and your mouth refuses to say them. You just want to see if it's still there. If the connection you felt before is still present. If the feelings she had for you remain.

“Would you like to go with me?”

“...huh? Like, right now?”

“Er-” you sputter, “ONLY IF YOU WANT TO-” you add hastily. “I… I mean, if you're free-” You look down, shifting awkwardly. “If you're not-”

“I am!” she blurts out.

Okay, she agreed.

Wait, what?

Your head whips back up, eyes wide as you blink at her in silence.

“No, I-I mean, yes, I'm free,” Jinx clarifies. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, “I only mean if you want-”

“Yes!” Jinx blurts out again, then clamps a hand over her mouth with a muttered ‘fuck’ when she realizes how eager she sounds.

You both just stand there awkwardly, staring at each other, before Jinx snaps herself out of her nervousness, eyes hardening as she puts on a confident smile. “Well,” she quips. “Lead the way.”

—

“Watch this.”

Jinx grips the fake pistol, a grin spread across her face. She lines up her shot, and-

BANG!

The target falls.

BANG!

Another falls.

BANG!

And another.

The park staff watch in shock at the girl's accuracy, while passersby stop to watch the impressive display of skill.

“Hell yeaaahh!” she crows, spinning the toy gun around her finger. “That's how it's done, baby!”

A group of teenagers watches her, chanting “MVP” and “QUEEN!”

Jinx shrugs, twirling the gun around. She hands the toy gun back to the staff and looks up above to choose a prize. “Hmmm... hmm... that one.” She points up to a giant stuffed pink shark, and the worker sighs. 

“That-” they start before Jinx interrupts them. 

“Yeah, I want the giant shark.”

The worker sighs heavier and takes the shark down, reluctantly handing it over to Jinx.

Giggling, she throws her prize towards you, and you awkwardly catch the gigantic stuffed animal under one arm.

“What-” you ask as she walks away. “Where are we going now?”

“Ooh! Let's go to that!” She points to the twisted rollercoaster as you struggle to keep pace with her.

The roller coaster looks like torture, and the line is so freaking long you could fall asleep while waiting.

“Can't we go on something... calmer?”

—

“I'm not so sure about this…” you hesitantly say as you're forced to sit next to Jinx in the roller coaster, her thigh touching yours since the seat is so damn small.

You try to fit the giant shark between you, and by some miracle, you manage to cram the stuffed toy in the already crowded space.

The staff comes to make sure everyone is buckled up and stops when they see the giant pink stuffed shark squished awkwardly between you two. “That uhhh... needs to be placed there.” They point over to a shelf where they take any extra luggage/belongings.

You and Jinx both turn around to look at the shelf, then back at the ride worker.

“Oh, right.” You nod and pick up the giant stuffed animal, handing it to the staff.

“Don't lose it-” Jinx warns them.

“Yeah, yeah, we won't,” the staff says, putting it on the shelf.

The bars come down and latch you in.

“Alright-” one of the staff says, “The ride is about to start!”

You look at Jinx, and she looks back at you. “Ready?” she asks, grinning.

“Uh, Ahahaha… sure.”

The staff member comes around one last time and checks to see if you're strapped in correctly. “All right-” they say. “Here we go-”

You gulp, swallowing nervously. You'd rather take on a bullet than ride this metal atrocity, but you're stuck with Jinx.

The ride starts moving, making the clicking sound as it's being lifted upwards to the very top of the coaster.

The ride climbs up to the top, and your nervousness only starts to increase as the rollercoaster continues to climb higher and higher. When it finally reaches the top, it suddenly stops moving, probably to give a few minutes for those to take pictures.

“Hey, look!” Jinx points to the view of the amusement park below the two of you. “We're so high up!”

“I just want to say…” you start, “that I ate the cake you put in the fridge last yea- AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.”

The roller coaster suddenly drops, and the two of you are sent flying down at a high speed.

“OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD-” you scream over the roar of the coaster. Your screams are mixed in with the screams of everyone else.

“WOOOOOOO!” she yells, raising both of her arms in the air. “FUCK YEAAAHH!!”

The roller coaster does a series of sharp turns, drops, twists, and loops that completely mess with your perspective and gravity.

You feel like your stomach is somewhere in your thighs as the ride twists and turns around at breakneck speeds. “HOLY SHIT I CAN FEEL THE SKIN COMING OFF OF MY FACE AAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

Jinx, on the other hand-

“IT'S SO FAST! FASTER FASTER FASTER!”

This is it. This is how you die.

��

…you somehow survived the roller coaster, but you're not so sure if your soul has left your body.

After the first roller coaster ride, you decided to take it easy on yourself and went on the carousel, but Jinx was having none of it and pulled you onto the next wild ride. And the next. And the next…

Eventually, you get your hands on the picture captured during the roller coaster.

Jinx laughs and stares at the picture before sticking it into her pocket. “You should see your face.” She giggles as you pass a few other people.

She's currently holding the giant shark stuffie in her arms as the two of you walk around, looking for something else to do.

You've done just about everything except for the log ride and there's no way you're going on that.

You're walking aimlessly through the park when you notice Jinx's pace starts to slow down, trailing behind you.

“Hey?” You turn around to look at her. “What's wrong?”

She's already looking up at the sky. “Do you want to try the ferris wheel?”

—

notes: i would 100% recommend listening to “come here” by kath bloom since this scene (and what happens afterwards) is inspired by the movie before sunrise

You sit in the ferris wheel, side by side. The ride starts moving, slowly bringing the two of you up higher and higher.

You stare out the window to your left, watching the world get farther and farther away as the cabin rises up.

The giant pink shark sits across from the two of you. You like this. Just you and her and the shark.

You feel her side pressed against yours, and you're unable to concentrate on anything besides that. She also looks unable to sit still because she's constantly shifting in her seat.

You sneak a glance at her and see her looking at the window as well. She notices you staring and turns her head to look at you. Suddenly, your eyes meet—you note the color of her irises. An artist might have trouble replicating them, but you think yours could do a pretty good job.

...and just like that, she looks away. Back to the window, finding something interesting to stare at on her side of the cabin.

It gives you a good opportunity to look your fill.

But then she looks back at you, and you look away. Your lips twitch into a faint smile before you quickly purse them together.

You feel her knee brush yours, just gently, like someone walking past you in a crowded room. Except this isn't an accident.

You turn your focus back outside the window, admiring the view. You see the top of the roller coaster you were just on, the carousel, and so many other places you've been today.

But your attention soon drifts to your right side and—oh. She's staring at you again.

Her eyes trace up the side of your head. Over your hair, around your ear…

…to your lips.

She wants to kiss you.

A fact that you notice quite easily.

You want to kiss her too.

You take a deep, trembling breath. You don't know if it's the height, or the cramped space, or the fact that you're alone with her right now—but it's starting to get hot in here.

You wait for a few more seconds, but then, unable to wait any longer, you turn to look at her-

Only to realize she already looked away before you could capture her gaze.

You look down at your lap, feeling the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile again, and... you don't bother stopping it, nor the way your tongue flicks out to wet your lower lip.

You're shaken out of your thoughts when the cabin jerks to a stop. It stopped at the very top. The highest point, where the view is the best.

You don't take time to look out the window. You can only focus on the woman sitting next to you.

Just one more look.

Just one more. That's all you want. You want to turn your head just one more time and kiss her right here in the cabin.

Just one more before you lean in and capture her lips with your own.

You don't know what pulls at your chest or your head, but suddenly you feel the urge to look back at her-

But she stares down at her lap, idly fiddling with her fingers, picking at the blue and pink nail polish. Her braids hide her face from your view. You want to reach out and tuck them behind her ear to see her face better... but you hesitate.

You wait for her to look at you, and when she does-

She looks up, and your eyes lock. She doesn't look away. Neither do you.

—

“Isha will love this.” Jinx chuckles, patting the pink shark sitting next to her.

You watch her from across the table. The diner around you is mostly empty, the staff working while waiting for the next customers to come in.

You look at the clock on the wall. Only an hour left before you have to pick up your little sister. Both of you decided to take a break from the amusement park and grab a bite to eat at the nearby diner.

Jinx sighs, drumming her fingers on the table, growing bored with the wait time. “I'm bored,” she whines, “Let's do something.” 

You've been waiting for your order for a while. “Like what?”

She hums, thinking. “Like... roleplay.”

You shrug. Why not? You don't have anything else to do. “Alright, let's try it.”

She grins and leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. “Okay, you're going to pretend to call a friend, and I-” she points her finger at her chest, “-will answer. Sounds good?”

You're a bit confused, but you nod anyway. If you can humor her, maybe it'll pass the time. You lift your hand up and imitate holding a phone, with your thumb and pinky pointed upwards. “Ring ring.”

Jinx does the same and clears her throat before replying, “Heeellloo.”

The sound of her cheerful voice makes you crack a smile. “Hey.” You put on your serious but friendly tone, looking straight at her. “Is this... er-” You pause, your brain working to come up with a random name. “...is this Rebecca?”

“Heyyy yes it is, this is Becca.” Jinx tilts her head to the side. “How are you?”

You have to suppress a laugh. She really sounds like another person. “Yeah, I'm doing good. I was just calling to catch up. How's life been?”

“Oh, the usual. Work, sleep, rinse, and repeat,” she says with a sigh. “What about you?”

“Well…” You look down at the table, pretending to think of something, then look up and meet her eyes once again. “I met my ex.”

Jinx's (or rather, Rebecca's) eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. “Your ex? Like, Jinx, your ex girlfriend? When did this happen?”

“Just today. I was having a meeting with my boss, and, well she… she kind of accidentally spilled a drink on her.”

Jinx's face scrunches up into an 'O' shape. “She spilled a drink on your boss?” she repeats. “What the hell? Why would she do that?”

“I think she's jealous.”

Jinx smirks. “So... what did you do? Did you two end up talking?”

“Yeah, we did,” you reply, watching her face. “She's still the same. Same eyes, same lips, same tattoos, same long braids of blue hair... beautiful as she always is.”

Jinx's expression softens. She listens to you intently, smiling.

You hesitate before continuing. “I still... love it.”

You stare down at the table and lay one of your hands on the surface. 

“I like it when she looks at me,” you say, your fingers tracing the wood. “I like to feel her eyes on me when I look away.” Your eyes return to hers.

Jinx lets her hand rest on the table, her fingers only a few inches away from your own. The gap between your fingers is not close enough to touch, but it still causes your heart rate to pick up.

You look at her slender digits, tracing the faint veins on the back of her hand. 

Her hand moves a bit, as if she were about to reach out and touch yours, but then she changes her mind. “Are you going to get back together?”

You contemplate her words, and then a snort of laughter escapes your lips. “We haven't really talked about it yet,” you answer.

There's a pregnant pause, the two of you looking into each other's eyes in silence.

You break the silence with a cough and return your hand back down to the table. You mimic hanging up the phone, signaling that the conversation is over. She does the same, coughing awkwardly.

“Your turn,” you say, “you call your friend.”

“Okay, okay.” She raises her hand, mimicking holding a phone once more. “Brrrring brrrringggg.”

You play along and answer in a deep voice. “Sup, dude? What's up?”

She giggles at your tone. “Hey, how ya been?”

“Doin' just fine, ya know. Livin' the dream. You?”

“I'm doing just great,” she responds. “No, scratch that. I'm rapturous. Wanna know why?”

“And why, might I ask?”

“I met someone.”

“Who?”

“My ex.”

“Oh wow.”

“And the best part is,” she adds, looking at you. “She's here with me,” she continues. “Have you heard the saying that we're all our own angels and demons?”

You nod.

She hums and grins. “Well, turns out that's true. Because I'm looking at an angel right in front of me.”

That's so cheesy... and it's working. “How did you meet?” you ask, changing the topic.

“Oh yeah, about that…” She clears her throat and sits back. “Well,” she starts, drumming her fingers on the table. “I was just curious about who your... uh, I mean her…” She wrinkles her nose. “Valentine's date was. So I got info on her little sister.”

“My sis—I mean, her little sister?”

“Yep, that little squirt was actually pretty cooperative.” Jinx chuckles. “But I just saw her with another woman in a cafe. Turned out it was just her boss.”

You laugh at that, shaking your head.

She grins, satisfied that she was able to make you laugh.

The two of you sit in silence again, waiting for the waiter to bring your orders.

“Anyway, I know we have a lot to talk about,” she continues, her eyes finding yours. “Everything that went down between us. About our relationship. But…” her voice trails off, and then she seems to have found her voice again. “But do… do you think… do you think we would ever be back together?”

Your hand moves from the table to her hand, taking it into yours. The gesture is so natural you don't even notice it until you see the way her fingers wrap around yours.

You run your thumb over her knuckles, her hand fitting in yours like it always did and always will. “I think... if you both talk things out... and if you're both willing to try again…”

She brings your hands to her mouth, placing kisses on your knuckles, on the bumps of your skin, on the veins that run beneath. She looks back up at you, her eyes searching for something in your face. Whatever she was looking for, she finds it and smiles.

“Are you willing to try again?”

You don't reply. 

What would it be like to be with her again? Despite everything, despite how things were, there were still moments you remember in a warm light.

The times you and she held hands and just walked down the street. The times you two would sit in a park and people, watch and joke about anyone that walked past.

The times you got stranded in the rain with her and had to share an umbrella, giggling as you squeezed together under it. 

The times you two went on a road trip together and laughed and sang along to the radio the whole way.

The times you two spent a night at a hotel together, and neither one of you got any sleep.

The times she would laugh at a stupid joke or just do something adorable, and all the air of the room would just leave you and your voice would get caught in your throat.

The times you saw her in a t-shirt and shorts and no makeup, and she's still the most beautiful in the world.

The times you felt your heart leap when you saw her name pop up on your phone. 

The times spent talking about the most boring things and the most boring things were suddenly the most interesting things in the world.

The times you went to the movies and she'd get bored and try to make out with you.

The times she fell asleep with her head on your shoulder, and you'd stay as still, not moving a muscle, and when she asked why you weren't moving, you said “Nothing,” but it was because you could feel her breathing against your neck, and it was so calming that you just wanted to stay like that forever.

The times the sun would hit her face and light up her features and her hair would be golden and the freckles on the bridge of her nose would stand out.

The times she would say something ridiculous like “Oh god, my back is killing me... it sure would be a shame if a beautiful and caring woman just, oh, I don't know, gave me a back massage,” and then look at you with complete innocence.

The times she went with you to meet your grandmother, who immediately took a liking to her and pulled you aside later on to tell you she's a keeper.

The times she would talk about her childhood, and you would listen, and you thought “I wish I could take your pain away.”

The times you stood in the kitchen and cooked together, and it was a mess of flour and batter and sugar and eggs everywhere because you two kept throwing things at each other and laughing and kissing and stealing sips of cookie batter.

The times you woke up next to her and she was looking at you and her eyes were still bleary and the only thought you could think of was “I love her even more than I did last night.”

The times she would get upset about the smallest thing and leave, only to come back hours later with tired eyes and a tight smile. The times you would try to comfort her and she would shrug you off and tell you she's fine, even when she's clearly not.

The times she'd play with your little sister, pretending to be a princess alongside her. The times she'd be a regal queen who let her little princess sit atop her throne. The times she'd be an evil witch who terrorized your little sister. The times she'd be an adventurer who'd save your little sister.

The times she'd look at you when she thought you didn't notice. The times she'd lie and say she wasn't staring at you.

The times she would come to your place unannounced, just to show you something that reminded her of you.

The times you would just exist. No need for words. No need for actions. Just both of you in the same space, comfortable.

There used to be so much love between you two.

The nicknames you had for each other. The inside jokes that no one else knew about. The looks you would give each other from across the room.

You knew the taste of her lips better than your own name. You knew where to kiss, to taste, to worship. Her moles, her scars, her tattoo, her hips, her waist, her neck, her shoulders, her wrist, and it would always lead back to her lips. “All roads lead to Rome,” they say, and Rome was her lips.

You'd trace every line and curve on her body with your tongue the way a blind man would read Braille. You worshipped her like the messiah. She was the promised land to your Moses, her body the Holy of Holies, parting her legs like the Red Sea as you knelt at her altar, and drown in her like an Israelite drinking from Marah.

Being with her was like sitting beside a fire on a cold night. It was cozy, and sometimes you would feel her hand on your back or her arm around your shoulders.

She had a habit of touching you, you could never keep yourself away from each other. 

Even now, the way she holds your hand and kisses your hand, it reminds you of the days when all the two of you did was touch and kiss.

But that was then, and this is now.

Instead of spending every minute with each other, you're now sitting across from each other at an empty table in a quiet diner with the ghost of your past relationship hanging over your heads.

You remember the cold moments.

The times you two would fight, scream, yell, sometimes cry.

The times she was distant and cold. The times you wished you could just understand her thoughts.

The times you both would argue and shout at each other and afterwards lay in your bed and just stare at the empty space between the both of you.

The times she'd lock herself in the bathroom and you'd stand outside, your heart breaking with every word you heard her utter.

The times you would wake up in the middle of the night and see her on the edge of the bed, facing away from you, her body trembling, and every single time you would reach for her, and every single time she would pull away.

The times she'd hold you close and you'd hug her back and you'd feel her body shake from stifled sobs, and you would tell her it was okay, even though you didn't know if you were trying to make it okay for her or yourself because nothing was okay.

The times you felt so lost and alone and you just wanted her to hold you, tell you you were going to be fine, but instead she'd give you a blank look and just stare at you, unable to understand how you were feeling because how could she when she was so disconnected from herself and the world around her?

The times you wondered if she still loved you as much as you loved her, because even when you thought she didn't, she would catch you off guard and surprise you with a joke or a smile or a laugh or just the way she'd take your breath away with the simplest things, and you'd feel her love in those little moments and you'd cherish them because those moments were fleeting.

You'd hang onto them desperately, hoping to preserve them, hoping to relive them in your mind over and over because you wanted to feel her love again.

But the feeling would fade so fast, because soon enough she'd be in those moods again, and you'd feel yourself slipping from her grasp more and more every day, and you just wanted to hold on in vain, hold on and hope it will get better, it had to get better, it would get better.

And for the first time in your life, you were tired.

Not of her, not ever of her. You never get tired of her, you never want to be without her. But at that moment, you were tired.

You were tired of trying to understand her, tired of trying to make everything okay, tired of feeling like your love for her wasn't reciprocated.

Just tired.

You never wanted to break up with her. You never wanted to leave her. You just wanted everything to stop. You just wanted a pause.

She was tired too, maybe more tired than you.

When you said, “I'm tired,” she took it personally. She thought you were tired of her, you were tired of the relationship, and you were tired of being with her.

So she left. She broke up with you.

You never expected her to do that.

You never expected her to walk away from you, just like that.

You thought that she would understand, you thought that she would know what you meant when you said you were tired. You thought she would know that you were tired of being the only one trying to make things work, tired of feeling like you're the only one who cares, tired of feeling like the only one who's making sacrifices.

She didn’t hear the words you were actually saying, the words, “I need a break, just a short break.”

She heard different words, words that said, “I'm done, I don't want to do this anymore.”

And she responded accordingly.

She ended things before you could end them on your own terms.

She broke up with you all because you said the wrong words and she heard the wrong words.

But the past is the past, and you can't stay there forever. Right now, you're here with her.

You feel her hand squeeze yours, and you look up to meet her eyes.

They're the same eyes you lost yourself in so many times before, the same eyes that used to be filled with love, affection, passion, and desire. All of a sudden, the past is so close. The feeling comes rushing back, and you can't let it go.

You realize that your boss was right. Something is still there. Something that hasn't faded away.

Was or is, it's still there.

Are you willing to try again?

You know it wouldn't be easy. You still remember every painful, difficult moment of your relationship. You still remember every stupid fight, every misunderstanding, every mistake, and every argument.

But those warm moments that bring up an ache in your chest when you remember them, they were real. You know they were real.

Maybe this time, it will work out. Maybe this time, both of you will learn from your mistakes. Maybe this time, you'll make a better effort to understand her. Maybe this time, you'll try harder to listen to her and make sure she understands that you don't mean anything differently than what you're saying.

Maybe this time, everything will be different.

It will be different. 

Maybe if things work out, you won't lose her a second time.

Just maybe… you can get things right this time.

It took you both long enough to realize that neither of you really wanted it to end, right? and now here you are, with her, and she's looking at you with those same beautiful eyes, and-

Maybe this time, things can change for the better.

You squeeze her hand back, and it's an answer without saying anything.

She sees it, and she smiles. She turns your hand and brings it again to her lips, pressing a kiss on your palm.

This time, she doesn't let your hand go.

You don't let go of her hand either.

missed a deadline for this, but that’s okay because it’s worth it, JINX IS WORTH IT!! 🤞

[suzukiblu]

Day seven and the final day of February’s first weekly WIP behind the cut; “the puzzle trap sex-room”. content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he’s FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. and like, definitely internalized victim-blaming that said POV character is not actually recognizing as that. So uh, you know, just Kon’s … entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Superboy just feels so gross right now. He feels so gross and so stupid and it tasted gross and Robin wouldn't stop yanking his fucking hair no matter how fucking hard he tried to do a good job for him and then Robin called him a fucking whore while he was trying to save his fucking life and didn’t even say he did a good job and–and–

And Robin’s not some random-ass civilian or asshole supervillain, Robin’s–they've met before. They’ve worked together before, at least a couple times. They’d both literally saved each other’s stupid lives before tonight, even. Like, more than once, even! Superboy didn’t decide to get his stupid little hopeless-ass crush on him out of, like, all the fucking nonexistent publicity photos and paparazzi shots of the guy, for fuck’s sake; they actually know each other. Like–at least enough to have saved each other’s lives and like, significant chunks of both Gotham and Hawaii. 

And even after all that–even after all that, Robin still thinks he's not worth being nice to even when he actually wants to fuck him. Not worth using a condom for or listening to when he asks him not to do stuff or when he asks if they can do something different or–or–wouldn't settle for the fucking handjob, wouldn't tell him he had fucking condoms, wouldn't stop yanking his fucking hair–Robin thinks he's a mouthy bitch and a whore, but he wouldn't even let him have a stupid condom. The condoms he specifically carries to give to people, even–he'll give them to stupid drunk people and prostitutes who should've packed their fucking own, yeah, to any other kind of whore, but not to him. Robin doesn't care if he gets sick or if he just doesn't wanna get fucking come in his mouth or on his face or–or–Robin carries those for people, not–not–

Robin didn’t even kiss him first. 

But Tana’s nice to him, even though he’s so stupid that he can’t even figure out why everybody else is always so fucking mean.

Tana’d care if he got sick or felt gross or–or any of that shit. Any time he feels bad, she always makes him feel better, even when it’s over really stupid shit; even when it’s over nothing at all and she has to explain to him why he shouldn’t even be upset or–or whatever. Even when he’s made her really mad again and disappointed her again and–and–

Tana cares if he gets better or not, and nobody else even thinks he can.

And she doesn’t treat him like a fucking kid, either. Everyone else treats him like a kid, but only when they want to shut him up or ignore his opinion or what the fuck ever. Never–never for any other reason. Never for anything–else. 

At least if people wanted to treat him like a kid, they could be fuckin’ consistent about it. They could be, like–literally anything except whatever was most convenient for them at the time, whether he had any opinions about it or not. He wouldn’t even–he wouldn’t even really care about somebody doing that, he’s pretty sure, if they were just fuckin’ consistent about it. 

He doesn’t know why–like, that’s not a–he doesn’t–just, if they were consistent, then–if people treated him like a kid and were just–just–

But they don’t. Nobody does. 

So nobody fucking gets to. 

“Just–take a breath, Kid,” Superman says, because he apparently thinks he fucking gets to, the asshole. 

He doesn’t get to, though, so Superboy just grabs every light fixture he can feel in the whole stupid cave and disassembles them all. And it doesn’t even matter, obviously, because fucking Superman has fucking infrared vision anyway, but that’s not the fucking point. 

He just doesn’t want any of these assholes looking at him like that anymore.

[goldfades]

more crash out couple please, such a powerful duo I need more, like maybe her being mad Luka got traded or something 😭😭

hell yes!!! i missed this iconic duo<3 (me and the 100 ppl who read it, love yall)

You almost break your phone when you see the notification.

The screen lights up with the headline—Mavericks Trade Luka Dončić to Lakers in Blockbuster Deal—and suddenly, the entire world tilts.

The gym around you fades, the echoes of bouncing balls and sneakers squeaking on hardwood becoming white noise. You’re supposed to be getting shots up before practice, but instead, you’re gripping your phone so tight your fingers ache, reading and rereading the words like they might shift into something less catastrophic if you just glare hard enough.

They traded him.

They traded your Luka.

Your jaw clenches. Your fingers flex. You’re already mad, but then the push notification updates, and you see the trade details—Luka Dončić to the Lakers in exchange for draft picks and—nope. That’s it. That’s all it takes.

The ball in your other hand gets launched across the court.

It smacks against the padded wall with a thud, loud enough to make Sabrina stop mid-shot and stare. The assistant coach flinches. Even the rookies, who have already witnessed a fair share of your outbursts, hesitate before returning to their drills.

You don’t care.

“Yo.” Sabrina’s voice cuts through the tension, cautious but curious. “You good?”

You turn to her, expression thunderous, and shove your phone in her face. “They traded Luka.”

She blinks. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit?” you repeat, voice rising. “That’s all you have to say?”

She exhales, lowering the ball in her hands. “Look, I get it, but—”

“No, you don’t get it,” you snap, shoving your phone into your pocket and pacing like a caged animal. “They traded him. They didn’t even—Luka is Dallas! You don’t just—” You stop, shaking your head violently, hands on your hips as you try to keep from combusting. “I swear to God, if I see Mark Cuban in public, it’s over for him.”

Sabrina mutters something about fines under her breath, but you’re already spiraling.

Because this isn’t just about basketball. This isn’t just about Luka having to swap jerseys or move to another city.

This is about the fact that they ripped him away from the team he built. The city that loved him. And worse—worse than anything—they did it without so much as a warning.

You know Luka. You know how much he gave to that franchise, how much he meant to it. And now he’s supposed to act like this is just part of the business? Like it’s fine?

The thought makes your blood boil.

And then, as if the universe is personally taunting you, your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text from Luka.

“Babe.”

That’s it. That’s all he says, but you can already hear his voice, can already picture the way he’s probably sitting somewhere with his head in his hands, trying to act like this doesn’t hurt.

Oh, hell no.

You grab your bag and are halfway out the gym before anyone can stop you.

“Where are you—”

“To LA,” you call over your shoulder.

Sabrina sighs. “You don’t even have a flight booked.”

“I will by the time I get to the airport.”

You shove open the gym doors and step out into the cold New York air, pulling your phone back out and dialing before you’ve even fully caught your breath.

Luka picks up on the second ring.

“Baby, listen, I—”

“I’m furious.”

There’s a pause. Then, a tired chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

You clench your jaw. “Where are you?”

A beat. Then, softer, “Hotel.”

“Text me the address.”

Luka hesitates. “You don’t have to—”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Silence. Then a small exhale, almost like relief. “Okay.”

Your phone buzzes a second later with the location, and you’re already pulling up flights.

If the NBA thinks Luka is just going to smile and move on, they’re dead wrong.

The flight to LA was a blur. You didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, barely even blinked. Your thoughts ran too hot, looping over and over on Luka, on the Mavericks, on the absolute disrespect of it all. Every time the plane hit turbulence, you imagined it was Mark Cuban getting body-checked into the stands.

Now, at 5 AM, you stand outside Luka’s hotel room, heartbeat hammering.

You don’t knock. You don’t hesitate. You swipe the key card he sent you, shove the door open, and step inside.

The lights are dim, but Luka is awake. Of course he’s awake.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He’s still in the clothes he probably wore to whatever last-minute meeting the Lakers shoved him into yesterday—a hoodie, sweatpants, sneakers untied like he never bothered to take them off. There are unopened water bottles on the nightstand, a half-eaten protein bar beside them.

When the door clicks shut behind you, he looks up.

And the second he sees you, something in him breaks.

Before you can say anything, before you can even take a full breath, Luka is on you.

His arms wrap around you, tight, desperate. His body folds into yours like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His face buries in the crook of your neck, and you feel him exhale, long and shaky, like he’s been holding his breath for the past twenty-four hours.

You don’t hesitate. You grip him just as fiercely, fingers digging into his hoodie, grounding him, keeping him here. He smells like faint cologne and exhaustion, and under that, something more raw. Something unsteady.

Luka isn’t the type to crumble. He gets mad, gets loud, gets chaotic—but he doesn’t crumble.

Except now, in your arms, he does.

“I hate this,” he mutters against your skin. His voice is rough, thick with exhaustion and frustration and everything in between. “I hate all of it.”

You slide a hand up his back, fingers pressing into his shoulders, firm and steady. “I know.”

“I didn’t even—I didn’t get a say. They just—” His grip tightens. “Four years. Four years, I give them everything, and then—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t have to. You feel the rage simmering beneath his skin, the betrayal laced into every word.

You shift slightly, just enough to pull back and look at him. His face is tired, jaw clenched, eyes rimmed with sleepless frustration. You reach up, brushing a thumb against his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut at the touch, like he’s been waiting for something—someone—to anchor him.

“I’m here,” you say, quiet but firm.

Luka’s eyes open, and for a second, he just looks at you. Then, he exhales again, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“You flew all the way here,” he murmurs.

“Of course I did.” Your tone is sharp, like the mere suggestion that you wouldn’t is offensive. “You think I was gonna let you go through this shit alone?”

Something flickers across his face—something raw, vulnerable, something he doesn’t let just anyone see.

Then, after a pause, he tugs you toward the bed.

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you with him, and you let him. He flops back, dragging you down beside him, arms still wrapped around you, holding on like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

The room is quiet. The city outside is already waking up, but in here, time slows.

“You’re the only one I need right now,” he mutters, voice low, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud.

Your chest aches at the confession, but you don’t say anything. You just shift closer, pressing a kiss to his temple, letting your presence speak for itself.

Luka sighs, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his body fully relaxes.

You stay like that, tangled together in the quiet, until sleep finally claims him.

A couple of hours later, you’re sitting across from Luka in the dimly lit hotel dining area, watching him glare at a plate of eggs like they personally orchestrated his trade.

“You have to eat,” you say, prodding at your own food.

“I’m not hungry.” His voice is flat, mutinous. His hoodie is pulled up over his head, shadowing his tired face.

“You think I care?” You level him with a look. “Eat.”

Luka grumbles something under his breath in Slovenian, but he picks up his fork anyway, stabbing at a piece of toast like it offended him. You take that as a victory.

The only other people in the restaurant are a few early risers and some poor intern in a Lakers polo grabbing coffee-to-go. The news of Luka’s trade is still hot, and you know the media will be circling like vultures the second he steps outside, but right now, in this quiet pocket of time, it’s just you and him.

And, apparently, his rage.

“Four years,” he mutters, pushing eggs around his plate. “Four years, and they don’t even call me first. I wake up, check my phone, and boom—I’m a Laker.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Not even a fucking text from Mark. Not even a ‘thank you for carrying our franchise on your back, Luka, we really appreciate you.’”

You cross your arms, leaning back in your chair. “I told you. If I ever see Mark Cuban, it’s over for him.”

Luka huffs a laugh—short, but real. It makes your chest loosen just a little.

He takes a reluctant bite of toast, chewing like he’s being forced at gunpoint. “And now I have to do the whole welcome to LA bullshit,” he continues, words muffled. “Smile for the cameras. Shake hands. Act like I wanted this.”

Your fingers drum against the table. “You gonna be nice about it?”

He looks up at you, incredulous. “Have you met me?”

Fair point.

You exhale, shaking your head. “I swear, if they make you say some PR-scripted ‘I’m excited for this opportunity’ speech, I might actually throw up.”

“They already sent me a script.” Luka shoves his phone across the table, screen glowing with an email from Lakers PR. You skim the message, eyes narrowing at phrases like thrilled to join this legendary organization and I can’t wait to start this journey.

You push the phone back. “I hate it here.”

Luka leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, voice dropping lower. “And you know the worst part?”

“What?”

He gestures around vaguely. “It’s too fucking sunny here.”

You blink. “Luka.”

“No, seriously.” He gestures toward the windows, where the LA morning is already creeping in, golden and warm. “It’s February. There should be clouds. Wind. A little sadness in the air. But no, it’s all palm trees and sunshine like nothing happened.”

You stare at him for a long moment before snorting. “You’re mad at the weather?”

“Yes!” He throws his hands up. “It’s unnatural.”

That shouldn’t be funny. But with the way he says it—with all the intensity of someone who just lost a Game 7 at the buzzer—it is. You press your lips together, trying to keep a straight face.

Luka narrows his eyes. “You’re laughing.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.” You take a sip of orange juice to hide your grin. “I just think it’s hilarious that out of all the shit you could be mad about, this is what broke you.”

Luka leans back in his chair, crossing his arms like a sulking teenager. “You don’t get it. I had seasonal depression in Dallas. I needed that.”

You roll your eyes, kicking him lightly under the table. “Eat your damn eggs, sunshine.”

He glares, but he takes another bite.

For a few minutes, you eat in relative silence, the weight of everything still heavy in the air but not suffocating like it was before. Luka looks exhausted—his face drawn, his usual sharp smirk replaced with something duller—but at least he’s eating. At least he’s here.

And at least he has you.

After a while, he exhales, poking at his plate with his fork. “I know it’s stupid, but…” He trails off, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “It just feels like I didn’t get a choice.”

Your heart clenches.

“It’s not stupid,” you say, firm. “They did you dirty, Luka. You’re allowed to be pissed.”

Luka tilts his head, studying you. “You’re more mad than I am.”

You scoff. “Of course I am. You know I fight harder for you than you fight for yourself.”

He shakes his head, a soft chuckle escaping. “My little menace.”

“Damn right.”

There’s a beat of silence before Luka stretches out his legs, nudging your foot under the table. “You’re staying, right?”

You raise a brow. “In LA?”

He nods, something unspoken behind his eyes.

You huff. “Where else would I be?”

Luka exhales, and just like that, you see some of the tension in his shoulders finally—finally—ease.

Yeah. You’re staying.

Even if LA is too sunny, even if the trade is bullshit, even if the next few months are going to be a mess. You’re not going anywhere.

--

A few weeks later, you find yourself sitting under the blinding lights of a New York Liberty press conference, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table as some PR rep drones on about preseason expectations.

You’re seated between Sabrina and one of the rookies, both of whom look way more at ease than you feel. Sabrina leans back in her chair, arms crossed, while the rookie—bright-eyed, still a little too eager—nods along like she actually cares about whatever corporate script is being read.

You, on the other hand?

You’re fighting for your life trying to keep your expression neutral.

Because you already know what’s coming.

It took all of a week after Luka’s trade for the media to start dragging you into it. At first, they tried to be subtle, slipping his name into post-game interviews like you wouldn’t notice. Then they got bolder—ESPN doing full Crash Out Couple: Will They Survive LA? segments, reporters cornering you in tunnels, even random fans asking if you were gonna pull a Brittney Griner and demand a trade to the Sparks just to be with Luka.

As if you’d ever leave New York.

Still, you handled it all like a pro. Gave the usual non-answers—"I support Luka no matter what," "We're both focused on our seasons," "No, I will not be elaborating on what I said about Mark Cuban at baggage claim."

But now? Sitting in front of a packed press conference, cameras rolling, microphones lined up in front of you like weapons of war? You can already tell today’s gonna be the day.

You barely register the first few questions—some fluff about team chemistry, how the offseason is treating you, the usual. You answer just enough to stay professional but keep it short, letting Sabrina and the others do the heavy lifting.

Then, just as you predicted, some reporter in the back clears his throat.

“Now, I know this is a Liberty press conference,” he starts, already trying to soften the blow, “but I have to ask—what are your thoughts on Luka Dončić’s trade to LA?”

There it is.

You feel Sabrina stiffen beside you. Someone exhales quietly, like they just know you’re about to start some shit.

And honestly?

They’re not wrong.

You take a slow breath, sitting up a little straighter. “You wanna know what I think?”

The reporter nods, already looking excited.

You fold your hands on the table, voice steady. “I think it’s the dumbest trade I’ve ever seen.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, the room erupts.

Cameras flash. Journalists start whispering, fingers flying over keyboards. Sabrina visibly bites back a smirk.

But you’re not done.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked.” You lean forward slightly, giving the reporters a pointed look. “You know it was stupid. Luka was the Mavericks. He carried that team, gave them everything, and they just—what? Dump him? Act like he’s replaceable? Like he wasn’t the best thing that franchise has had since Dirk?”

You shake your head, letting out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“They didn’t even warn him,” you continue, voice measured but laced with just enough bite. “Didn’t even have the decency to let him hear it from them first. He found out like everyone else—through the media. After four years.” You glance around, making sure every single person in the room is listening. “You tell me—does that sound like a team that knows what the hell they’re doing?”

Someone near the front stifles a laugh.

The rookie next to you is staring, wide-eyed, like she just realized you’re really like this in real life.

The PR rep off to the side looks like he’s actively considering quitting.

You give the reporters a moment to scramble over each other before adding, “And don’t get it twisted—I’m not mad at the Lakers. If they wanna benefit from Dallas’ stupidity, that’s their business.” You tilt your head. “But let’s not pretend this wasn’t one of the worst front office decisions we’ve seen in a long time.”

Sabrina clears her throat, barely suppressing a smirk. “So… you feel strongly about this.”

You shoot her a look. “Oh, we’re doing sarcasm now?”

She grins, leaning back. “Just making sure.”

A different reporter cuts in, notebook in hand. “Are you saying the Mavericks made a mistake?”

You blink, deadpan. “Do you think they made a mistake?”

He hesitates. “Well—”

“No, go ahead.” You gesture. “Say with your chest.”

He doesn’t respond.

Exactly. At this point, you can practically hear the headlines being written in real time.

Crash Out Couple Strikes Again: Liberty Star Calls Luka Trade ‘Dumbest Ever’ Luka’s Girlfriend Goes Scorched Earth on Mavericks Mark Cuban, Look Away—This One’s Gonna Hurt

You sigh, shaking your head. “Look, all I’m saying is—Luka deserved better. And he’s gonna be fine in LA, don’t get me wrong. He’s already killing it. But let’s not pretend the Mavericks didn’t fumble badly.”

A few reporters nod, some murmuring in agreement.

Then, a woman in the front row speaks up. “So, do you think Luka should be happy in LA? Do you think this trade was ultimately a good thing for him?”

You pause.

Because that’s the real question, isn’t it?

After everything—after the shock, the anger, the adjustment—after all the late-night phone calls, the exhausted rants over FaceTime, the too-silent hotel rooms when he was on the road—do you think he’s happy?

You tap your fingers against the table once. Twice.

Then, finally, you nod.

“I think he’s making the best of it.”

It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either.

It’s just the truth.

Luka is still Luka—he’s still dropping triple-doubles, still making absurd off-balance threes like he was built for Hollywood. The fans love him, the Lakers are feeding him the ball, and the league is already hyping him up like he’s the second coming of Magic Johnson.

But you know him.

And you know that no matter how well he plays, no matter how many games they win—he’s still carrying that weight. That bitterness. That feeling of being discarded.

So yeah, he’s making the best of it.

But he shouldn’t have had to.

You clear your throat. “Next question.”

The room buzzes, journalists exchanging glances, already gearing up for more.

Sabrina leans over, voice low. “You do realize you just went viral in real-time, right?”

You sigh, grabbing your water bottle. “Good.”

Because if the Mavericks thought they were done hearing about this trade? They were dead wrong.

The press conference wraps up, and the energy in the room is palpable—reporters buzzing with excitement, scribbling down everything you just said like they’re gathering ammunition. You can already feel the headlines forming, but honestly? You don’t care.

You stay composed, answering a couple more questions before Sabrina nudges you, her lips twitching with that knowing smile. “You really went off.”

“Glad I got your approval,” you shoot back, but you’re already scanning the crowd, searching for the exit.

As soon as the conference ends, you slip out the side door, dodging any lingering press. Your phone vibrates in your pocket—likely some good job text from your manager or a PR person who’s already trying to figure out how to spin it.

But then you see the name.

Luka.

You swipe your phone open and quickly scan his message. It’s simple, but you can feel the weight behind it.

Luka 💙: You’re insane, but I love you.

Your heart flutters despite the chaos.

You lean against the wall of the hallway, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you read it again.

You remember—Luka is still Luka. He’s still your chaotic, brilliant, stubborn, sweet Luka. He’s still the guy who finds a way to smile even when everything around him feels like it’s falling apart. The guy who’s probably on the other side of the country trying to make sense of this new life in LA, but still, somehow, always makes time to text you something that makes your chest ache with warmth.

You bite your lip, your fingers hovering over the keys.

You: You knew what you signed up for when you went out with me 😒

You: I love you, too

You press send before you can second-guess it.

The reply is almost instant:

Luka 💙: I saw the press conference. Glad you’re making them feel stupid. I needed that.

You grin.

You: Good. You deserve to be pissed off. Just wish I could've done it myself.

Luka’s response is quick, but it’s the last part that makes your heart do a little flip.

Luka 💙: I’m still your man. No matter where I am.

You pause for a moment, your thumb resting over your phone screen.

Because, despite everything—the trade, the new city, the looming questions about what comes next—you know Luka’s right. He’s still yours.

You feel a sudden surge of warmth, your chest swelling with a mix of pride and possessiveness. Luka might be living in LA now, but he’s never going to truly belong to anyone else.

Not when he’s yours.

I know, you reply, your words simple but full of everything you feel in this moment. I got you. Always.

And as you hit send, you know that no matter where you are—no matter how much distance gets between you two in the future—Luka’s still going to be your home.

The trade? It might have put a dent in his world. But for you two?

You’re both still crashing out, together, no matter what.

[shaunamilfman]

Shauna Shipman NSFW Alphabet

pairing: Shauna Shipman x f!r note: minors dni

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

your ass isn’t going anywhere. she’s picked the position she wants to lie in, and you will be there until she decides you're done. she can be very sweet and caring, but she’s not great at the emotional part of it (anything to do with actually communicating her feelings), so she just grabs on for a while and hopes it suffices. holds you tight, runs her fingers through your hair, traces shapes on your back, the works. won’t talk unless pressed most of the time.

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

her thighs. she used to resent how toned they were from all of those years she was forced to play soccer–just another thing she could grumble about underneath her breath when she was mad at Jackie–but she’s grown to love them. loves the way she can use them to wrap around your hips and keep you where she wants you, whether that’s in bed or just cuddling; it doesn’t matter. Shauna also loves the way your head looks between her thighs and the way they squeeze around you.

She likes your hands, always has. Shuana enjoys how capable they are. likes to watch the way your fingers wrap around handles or tap absently against things when you’re bored. of course, she likes them the most between her legs.

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

she loves when you’re messy, especially when you’re covered in her. sometimes she grabs a fistful of your hair just so she can better rub herself over your face. she’s not even trying to get herself off. you’re just too clean. shauna loves when you pop your head up after eating her out just so she can smear herself all over your face better. dragging her thumb along your lips so all you can do is taste her. she likes to make you sit there, just dripping with her as she recovers. she worked hard to get you so messy. she’s going to enjoy it.

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

I don’t think Shauna Shipman is familiar with the concept of shame when it comes to things that get her off unless it involves Jackie. 

she has far too many thoughts about threesomes and refuses to acknowledge any of them. thinking about them means considering the implications of what having the two of you mouthing at her skin is, and Shauna Shipman is not about to do that.

if there was anything other than that, it would just be so ridiculously violent that she knew she couldn’t actually do it without serious injury, but she usually just finds a way to modify it before she springs it on you.

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

slept with Jeff so she’s not completely inexperienced, but it’s not like she knows much about women. she’s very well versed in getting herself off and figures it can’t be all that different. pretends to know a lot more than she does and would not react well if you mentioned that fact.

knows what she wants and gets it. she texts you for a hookup, and you say you’re busy? shauna shipman has sent three attachments. all of which are enticing enough to get you into the car. it’s overkill, truly. one would’ve been enough, but she’s thorough.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Shauna likes to ride. your face, your fingers. it doesn’t matter. Shauna wants to be on top.

she loves to sit on your face. there’s just something about being able to look down at your face buried between her thighs as she fucks your face that gets her going like nothing else, especially with how prone and vulnerable you look beneath her. you can’t pin her hips down as easily as you can when she’s on her back, and she enjoys knowing she’s the only one that gets to decide when you get air.

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

shauna’s not that goofy in general, but especially during sex. sometimes you may catch a smile or two and an occasional laugh during slow, early morning sex, but that’s few and far between. she has a goal in mind, and any laughter makes her feel like you’re not taking her seriously.

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

shaves her legs fairly often just to keep Jackie off her back. everywhere else just gets shaved when she remembers to. 

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

romance doesn’t always have as much of a place in sex for Shauna as other emotions do (jealousy, anger, possession). it’s not to say that she’s not romantic in the moment. in fact, it’s some of the only times she properly communicates, babbling confessions about anything and everything in the bluntest way possible as her nails scratch down your skin.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

constantly. all the time. shauna’s cunt hates to see her hand coming. doesn’t like to take her time like she might’ve if you were the one stimulating her. masturbating is only ever to soothe an itch for Shauna, quick and dirty until her thighs clamp around her hand and she can go back to her business. washes off and goes back to whatever she was doing like nothing happened.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

so possessive. she won’t admit it, but as angry and jealous as she gets when she sees someone come up to you, she also gets turned on. she already knows how the night’s going to end, your head between her thighs in the cramped quarters of her back seat as you struggle to get a hand between her legs to get your fingers inside.

wants to bring a knife into it. she thinks a lot about holding a knife to your throat as she makes you do whatever she wants. has a recurring fantasy of making you back up into the wall and plead with her not to kill you. it always ends with her pressing it against the delicate skin of your neck and slowly making you slide down to your knees.

likes to bite, which is obvious. if she’s close enough to sink her teeth in, she will. bites you hard enough that you bleed a few times, and though it was honestly an accident, she can’t deny how much it turned her on to watch.

it goes without saying, but she wants to chase you down and catch you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

any place but a bed, for the novelty but also for the risk. fantasizes about someone walking in on the two of you and seeing that you're hers. those fantasies always involve you on your knees, her thighs pressed so tightly to your ears that you don’t even notice anyone else coming into the room because you’re so focused on getting her off. she doesn’t like to acknowledge the fact that it’s usually Jackie who walks in.

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

jealousy, anger, obsession (either way), and attention. she thrives on intensity, on knowing you want her just as much as she wants you. needs you to match her freak. fighting is nothing but foreplay, angry words spit in your direction that she wants you to take out on her.

the better question is what doesn’t get her going.

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

as much as she somewhat enjoys her jealousy, you can’t ever bring up someone else while you’re hooking up. she does, often referencing whatever girl stood too close to you and pissed her off, but you can’t ever or she’s done. she also doesn’t like to be made to feel lesser than you for any reason.

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

shauna definitely has a preference to receive rather than give when it comes to oral. she likes to watch you between her thighs, brushing your hair out of the way so she can really see your mouth work. there’s something about the way you’re entirely focused on her when you’re going down on her that nothing else can match. the way you can’t really look at her, can’t talk to her, can’t do anything but make her come.

she can give. she’s good at it even. shauna would prefer to use her fingers, just because of how much she likes to watch. she needs to be able to use her mouth to leave little marks everywhere to stake her claim. what she doesn’t want is to see you try to cover them up the next day. that’s just not allowed.

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

fast and rough 90% of the time. she’s always got something to prove (mostly to herself). she’s got you on your knees in the backseat of her car before you’ve even realized that she wasn’t taking you home first.

she indulges in slow, loving sex when the mood strikes her, but that’s nothing she would really enjoy all the time.

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

shauna shipman invented quickies. wants you anywhere and everywhere she can have you. she gets turned on at the drop of a hat and isn’t shy about telling you about it. 

she does enjoy getting to take her time with you, though. likes to grind against your thigh and enjoy your wandering hands as you make out until she’s so worked up she’s desperate for it.

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

goes without saying. half of the time she barely thinks things through before she’s going for them. that’s just who she is, and she’s not planning on changing.

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

doesn’t last long. she’s so easy. she can go forever and ever, though. loves to be overstimulated. she’ll have tears running down her face and still want more.

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

shauna shipman’s vibrator is her best friend. they know each other intimately. when it finally dies on her and she has to buy a new one, she briefly considers holding it a funeral before deciding that would be dumb as shit. threatens to replace you with the vibrator whenever you’re teasing her.

she doesn’t have all that much experience with other toys, but she’s definitely not averse to using them. likely to bring up the idea first if she thinks you’ll be at all amenable.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

shauna’s not that big into teasing just because she’s too impatient to really commit to it. she’s only teasing herself when she’s teasing you. does enjoy watching you squirm a little, though.

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

she’s not that loud. more of a gasps and sighs kind of girl, but has been known to get loud if the vibes are right. if you turn her down for sex for reasons she doesn’t consider “valid” (busy or engaging in a hobby), trust that she’ll be shouting her pleasure from the rooftops when she stalks off into the room to grab her trust vibrator.

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

secret love for sleep morning sex, but she’ll never ever admit it. she’ll roll her eyes and groan, but it doesn't stop her from murmuring your name in breathy little sighs as she lazily rolls her hips up.

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

boxers wearer shauna shipman my beloved. buys bras and underwear almost solely based on practicality and what’s comfortable but has a few racier things shoved in the bottom of her drawer to bring out to manipulate you into forgiving her crimes. someone’s got to remind you why you put up with so much shit.

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

ridiculously high. if she’s not doing it, she’s probably thinking about it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if anything, Shauna feels more energized after sex, but if you keep her in bed long enough, she’ll grumble her way to sleep. she really enjoys feeling you pressed up against her afterward, even if the two of you are so hot that your combined body heat just makes her sweatier.

[00valentina-writes00]

being bratty to vi like being like demanding and stuff how would she react

♡♥︎Vi with a Bratty/Demanding Girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Vi doesn’t put up with much, but if you’re demanding or bratty in a playful way, she’ll get a smirk on her face, knowing exactly how to handle you. She doesn’t mind a little sass, but she draws the line when you start pushing her buttons too far.

♥︎ When you throw a tantrum or act out, Vi’s patience can wear thin quickly. She’ll give you a sharp, no-nonsense look, her arms crossed over her chest. “You better cut that shit out before I have to remind you who’s in charge here,” she’ll warn, voice low and commanding. She knows you’re testing her, and she’s always up for a challenge.

♥︎ If you push her too far, she won’t hesitate to call you out on your behavior, but it’s never in a cruel way. She’s blunt and to the point, saying something like, “I’m not playing this game, babe. Either you chill or I’ll make you chill.” Her tone is firm, but there’s always a glint of amusement in her eyes, like she’s enjoying the back-and-forth.

♥︎ Vi has a strict way of keeping you in line when you get bratty. She’s not afraid to use physicality to remind you of your place, whether it’s a hand on your shoulder to get your attention or her strong grip on your wrist to keep you from pushing her any further. She’s rough around the edges, but it’s always with a sense of control and care.

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re being particularly bratty, she’ll tease you right back. Vi knows exactly how to push your buttons in return, using her humor and wit to match your energy. “You’re gonna make me do this the hard way, huh?” she’ll say, and before you know it, you’ll be grinning because you know she’s not really mad—she’s just trying to keep you in check.

♥︎ If you start acting out in public, Vi’s not afraid to grab you by the arm and pull you aside, giving you a stern talking-to. “Not here, not like this,” she’ll growl under her breath. She knows you’re testing her, but she’s not going to let you embarrass her—or yourself—over something petty.

♥︎ There are moments when you push her to the edge, and Vi’s patience snaps. She’ll say something like, “I warned you, babe,” before grabbing you and pinning you to a wall or a piece of furniture. Her hand on your throat or a firm grip on your waist keeps you in place, but her eyes tell you that she’s not angry—she’s just asserting control in a way you won’t forget.

♥︎ She has a soft spot for you, though, and after the tension dies down, Vi always makes sure to check in. If you’re sulking, she’ll bring you in for a hug, brushing your hair back or giving you a soft kiss. “You know I love you, right?” she’ll ask, even if she’s still holding a bit of that tough exterior.

♥︎ Vi likes the challenge you bring. A little bratty attitude keeps things exciting for her. She likes that you’re not afraid to speak your mind, even if it means giving her a hard time. It’s something she admires about you because, deep down, she knows that you’re strong-willed and not easily swayed by anyone.

♥︎ When you pout or try to act too stubborn, Vi’s the first to tease you, gently mocking your attitude. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?” she’ll ask with a smirk. “I’ve got more patience than you think, but don’t test me too much.” The tension shifts from frustration to something more playful, and she enjoys the banter you bring to the relationship.

♥︎ She respects your independence and won’t let you get away with manipulation or childishness for long, though. If you’re being too bratty, she’s quick to remind you that she expects maturity from you, and that means stepping up when it matters. “Don’t forget, you’re my equal,” she’ll say, “and I don’t do well with anyone who thinks they can walk all over me.”

♥︎ Vi knows when you’re acting bratty just to get attention, and while she might roll her eyes at the antics, she can’t help but love it. “You think I’m gonna fall for that? I’ll let you keep going for a minute, but I’m gonna make sure you regret it later,” she’ll warn, but you both know she enjoys it in her own way.

♥︎ When you’re demanding, Vi doesn’t mind it as long as you’re being direct about it. She’ll meet you head-on with an equal level of intensity. “What do you need?” she’ll ask, voice firm, but the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She can’t help but admire your boldness, even if you know exactly how to push her buttons.

♥︎ When you’re sulking, Vi doesn’t let you get away with it for long. She’ll either pull you into a cuddle or distract you with something she knows you’ll enjoy. “You can’t pout for too long,” she’ll tease, “not when I’ve got ways to make you smile again.”

♥︎ Even though Vi is tough as nails, she’s not afraid to let you get under her skin. In fact, she likes that you challenge her—it keeps her on her toes. But don’t mistake that for weakness; when you push too far, she knows exactly how to reign you back in.

♥︎ Vi might act like she’s annoyed sometimes, but you know the truth: she’s deeply invested in you and your relationship. Her rough exterior is just that—an exterior. Beneath it, she loves the fire you bring into her life.

[iwasbored777]

I've been reading posts about GUN and I know they're going to be so bad in the fourth movie. Because not only is it possible that Rockwell, you know the openly xenophobic agent, will be the leader, but we're also going to have the Metal Sonics. When GUN sees alien threats built from the image of the alien they hate the most and can't chase, it's going to be the perfect excuse to want to capture Sonic and also Tails and Knuckles for sure. Not only that, with Amy in the movie it's going to get worse! If she really can travel through time with her chaos energy, I have no doubt that GUN will want to capture her too so they don't get this insane trump card. I dare say that a Team Heroes X GUN conflict is kind of inevitable.

Thanks for this ask cuz I feel so honoured to shame GUN for everything they've done. That previous post about Shadow wasn't enough, they did so many terrible things and I can't believe I didn't write this before your ask.

I can barely list all the worst things they did but I'll try and I'll answer to your other stuff so I hope you're ready and I hope you don't mind this whole analysis 😅 but I really wanted to talk more about GUN and since you clearly hate/dislike them just as much as I do (and many feel the same way) I really want to complain about them to someone who'll listen:

They were the ones that sent Robotnik in the first place. At least at the beginning he was just doing his job.

They knew that Gerald was Ivo's grandfather and alive all these years but they chose to not tell Ivo and let him think that he has no family his entire life. They used him because he was a genius and wanted him to make all those inventions for them and when they thought that he died they just acted as if he never existed.

They hired one of their agents to seduce Sonic's aunt, propose to her, and plan the whole wedding so that they would capture Sonic (I'm sorry I'm trying to stay serious but what the hell is wrong with GUN?! I don't know if I should cry or laugh and this is only the beginning). Poor Rachel too! They didn't care about anyone whether it was humans or aliens. I kinda wasn't happy that Rachel couldn't stay mad, what they did to her was horrible.

They captured Sonic and Tails. Tails was injured when they captured him and they didn't do anything about it, they simply put him and Sonic in cages after they tased Sonic to make sure he's unconscious too, they arrested Tom too when he tried to defend his son. This scene always breaks me, poor babies 😢

They found Shadow when he landed on Earth, kidnapped him, held him in a cryo pod and were doing experiments on him. (Gee, I wonder why Tom and Maddie didn't trust GUN with Sonic and kept Sonic hidden in their house instead after the first movie).

They were responsible for the death of a child, Maria (Walters did try to protect her and Shadow but when others killed her he mistreated Shadow. He definitely had more sympathy for Maria, she was a human child after all.) This moment right here physically hurts me cuz not only that they don't seem to care about the child they just killed but also they're surrounding Shadow and Gerald with weapons as if Shadow and Gerald were the ones who did something terrible here... They didn't care about the child they just killed, they only wanted to capture Shadow, that was their priority and Maria was just a collateral damage.

Right after they killed Maria they threw Gerald, her grandfather who loved her, in jail for 50 years and forced him to make Eclipse Cannon, that can destroy the planet. He went crazy because of all that and WHO WOULDN'T?!

They froze Shadow for 50 years (would definitely stay frozen way longer if he didn't escape) because they just didn't know what to do with him and kept him awake and fully aware of what they were doing to him during the process. I'll once again remind y'all of Walters' comment that Shadow was "too valuable to destroy", because Shadow was property to them and not a young living being with feelings and trauma that they gave him. His face here breaks my heart... Look how helpless he was here...

I added as many examples of how terrible GUN is as I can remember but if there are more you can always add them in the comments. I could easily add every scene and every screenshot with GUN cuz even at their better moments, they're still really bad, but I tried to pick the most important parts.

As for Rockwell, yeah she's gonna be a handful. She's definitely worse than Walters. At least he realized in his last moments that you can trust some aliens, but she isn't going to be easy to convince. They'll probably be even worse from now on and they probably didn't learn their lesson after Shadow. They better not hurt my baby girl Amy or the Colorful Bunch. I have some theories but I'd rather wait and see what's next.

Amy was hiding her identity here from Metal Sonic but I'm not sure if she doesn't want GUN to find her either cuz she's not hiding from Sonic, she let him see her.

Either way, it's not going to be easy for our alien kids and GUN gave me no reason to trust them so far. It says a lot that Robotnik and Stone were WAY more likeable to me than GUN. I hope GUN will leave Shadow alone and if they can't, I hope he'll kick GUN's butts again.